As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 166 - Scary At Work Other Strange & Scary stories

Episode Date: March 7, 2025

Today, on the 166th episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 8 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 Scary Work Stories and Other True Strange and Scary. If you enjoyed this episode, be sure to like or rate the podcast, and leave me a comment with your thoughts if the platform your own supports it! Scary story episodes 2 to 3 times a week (New stories On Wed/Fri, Comps/remasters on Sundays) If you have a story to submit, would like to find where to listen to the podcast, or want to find me on social media platforms, all of that info can be found at https://www.astheravendreams.com You can also send stories into my subreddit (r/theravensdream) or email them to me at [e-mail] Want to check out some ATRD Podcast Merch? ➤ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Or for signed merch ➤ https://ko-fi.com/AsTheRavenDreams I wrote a novel, "The Insomniac's Experiment" by Raven Adams! Check it out on amazon (Or you can email me for a signed copy!) Join Patreon to get early access and support the Podcast! ➤ https://www.patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Check out my gaming channel with my pal Ghost_Ink ➤ @superNefariousBros On YouTube Disclaimer ➤ Episodes include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Listener discretion is always advised. ALL Audio and visuals on this podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format. Bless This Mess. #AsTheRavenDreams #TrueScaryStories #GlitchInTheMatrix Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in todays episode... Thin_Hour39, James Weeks, Christina O , Edythe, Gunter, LesleyAnn, Nicole Bernstein, John Richards As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. TimeStamps… 1 ➤ 00:24 2 ➤ 14:57 3 ➤ 23:31 4 ➤ 28:49 5 ➤ 35:24 6 ➤ 53:08 7 ➤ 56:57 8 ➤ 58:03 Midroll after the first story and at around 57 minutes ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #GlitchInTheMatrix #RedditStories 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 started working as a receptionist in my 20s while I was going to school to become a social worker. I've always loved doing clerical work and the likes. I remember my mom working as the assistant to the principal of the local elementary school, and I loved seeing her dress up, and that always stuck with me. So I fit in quite well with these jobs, and I loved it.

I had finally found a place that offered me the job and got me out of retail, so I was pretty excited to get in there, and since it was a law firm, maybe I could even grow with them due to the field I was wanting to get into. I'd been working there for about six months at the time of this event. By now, I was pretty comfortable with the job. I had the basics down. I was well organized and prepared for any request that someone made. The attorneys and staff were all nice and patient with me too, which, if I may say, was a pleasant surprise.

From what you see in movies and shows, I would have expected them all to be impatient and not very friendly, but it was the exact opposite with that place, and I loved them for it. But there was still that underlying pressure when you're new. You want to prove that you can handle things without bothering anyone. That's where our package delivery system and this event comes into play. Due to our building having some pretty confidential information, everyone had to check in at the front, through me. When we had packages delivered we would get the recipient's name, call them to confirm they were expecting something, and, once confirmed, sign for it, and either take it to their office or they would pick it up at my desk. Sometimes there were special circumstances where attorneys would ask me to just accept things on their behalf,

but that was only after they gave me advanced notice. One evening, a lot of attorneys and a few paralegals were staying late due to some kind of emergency meeting about a high. high-profile case. I remember two attorneys specifically seemed pretty stressed about the past week about it, so something like this was to be expected. My shift was typically over at 5 p.m., but I offered to stay late, knowing they may need some things and they were having dinner catered, so I was getting a free meal out of it too.

Working that late, there's not much for me to do anyways, so I was typically either reading or maybe working on schoolwork. However, around 7 p.m., a delivery man showed up. According to his hat, he worked for, I'll just say, a very common delivery service. But something about his uniform seemed off. It looked right, the colors were what I was used to seeing, but the shirt just seemed kind of weird. It also looked pretty worn out.

And I remember thinking, do they make things? them pay to get new uniforms because, geez, his was looking rough. I also noticed he didn't have a name tag, like I was used to seeing as well, but with it being as late as it was, I chalked it up to this possibly being his last delivery, and he was already checked out. No big deal, however, we had most of our deliveries through this company because we used them for shipping stuff, and they were quite aware of our procedures as well. But it was still odd that we were getting a delivery this late,

especially since our normal guy had already come by earlier that day with a few packages. It was possible to have more delivered, but just a few of these oddities were standing out to me. The guy greeted me, asked how I was doing, and he sat a small box down on the counter between us. He held out a small tablet-like device and said that I just had to confirm the address was correct and signed. Then he mentioned that there were two packages. He explained how there was a larger box still in his truck and asked for help with it. He started making a joke about carrying it in when I asked who the recipient was. He stopped, still smiling, and looked at the box like he was trying to find a name,

and then he said he just needed to confirm the address. I remember looking at him with a raised eyebrow at first, but he gave a slight chuckle, and mentioned that this was how he usually did it. The other lady here just confirmed the address on the screen and signed for it, and then again pointed to the screen with the address. I stayed polite and apologized, saying that this was how I was trained to handle packages, and again asked if he could just confirm the recipient.

I even placed my hand on the box to try and turn it to see the name, carrying on my same polite but firm demeanor, but he grabbed the box and put it back under his arm. His friendly demeanor was now slipping and he sighed, saying that this wasn't his first day, that he knew how to do his job, and that he's delivered packages here plenty of times prior, and that I was delaying him being able to go home

as we were his last delivery. I again apologized but said that I didn't even know who the package was for, so I couldn't just confirm the address. I even explained that I have to call the person the package was for to confirm it. Finally, he gave another dramatic sigh and started tapping on his tablet pretty hard. Then he gave a name and read off our address. I smiled and again apologized and told him it would be just a moment. I went to my computer because I didn't immediately recognize the name.

I had most of the attorneys and some of the paralegals down, but This name wasn't familiar, so I went to the directory list. That person didn't exist. There wasn't a list of previous employees or anything either, so I couldn't verify if maybe it was for someone that had left. I didn't know what to do next. Everyone that was in the office was in that meeting, and they asked to not be disturbed.

The whole time I was looking for this guy, checking my emails, notes, and DMs, to see if there was anything about this delivery. This guy was huffing and saying it's not that complicated, that it shouldn't take this long and so forth. Finally, I told the guy that I thought that he had the wrong address, because that person did not work here. He rolled his eyes and said that because the address matched,

that's all he needed, and we had to figure out the rest. Then, he said that he would just mark that I refused to sign, but then demanded that I help him with the other box in his truck. I was getting more nervous about this whole thing. If I refused to sign, I would think they would just leave with the package, and then I would deal with the consequences of someone possibly not getting their package. Why was this guy instead insistent on me going out to his truck? Not to mention, what was he expecting a 140-pound woman in heels to do that he couldn't?

I didn't know what I should do. I was told that the attorneys were not to be disturbed, but this guy was refusing to leave. Should I just continue being firm and tell him he'll have to come back? What if he causes a scene? He was already clearly irritated by my requests in the time I was taking. But then, my direct managers, the people that employ me, told me to not disturb them unless it was urgent.

This clearly was not an urgent situation, but I didn't know what else to do. I even thought maybe I should just get the damn package, and if it turns out to be wrong, then it would just sit at my desk until they came back to pick it up. Wouldn't be our fault, I wouldn't think. But something was still digging at me about this whole situation. Why was this guy so adamant that I help him with this package?

why didn't he have a dolly or something similar if it truly was that large? So, I finally came to my senses and called one of the paralegals that worked there. He went by Skip, and he had helped me out a lot when I first started. He also wasn't much older than me. He was in his 30s, I believe, and I think his down-to-earth personality made him a lot more approachable than others. Unfortunately, he didn't pick up when I called, so I was still back to where I started. I started telling the guy that I was going to have to refuse the package, but he immediately told me no, and that I was being very difficult about the whole thing.

Next thing I hear is a door closing and in comes Skip. The amount of relief that I felt at that moment was monumental. Skip smiled at me and asked what was going on. and I explained the situation. I noticed the guy was now looking down at the tablet, partially facing away from Skip. He just said in an annoyed tone, I just need someone to sign for the package and she's refusing.

So I explained that there was more to it. I told Skip how he had a large box in his truck that he wanted my help with, and the recipient didn't match anyone that worked here. Skip got closer and backed me up. He told the guy that all packages had to be approved by the recipient, and seeing as no one worked here by that name, we couldn't accept the package. He also told him that I was not to leave my desk since I was the only receptionist,

and if he needed help, then he would need to take that up with his employer to properly prepare him for that, as it was not the customer's responsibility. Then he tried to ask his store location, because he said the normal guy knew their procedures quite well. The guy didn't seem to like this, judging by the way he turned and started walking back out the door, saying something about us refusing the delivery and flinging the door open. After he left, Skip walked to the door and watched as he drove away. I also noticed that he left the box sitting on my counter.

That confirmed my suspicion right there that this was not legit. Skip came back to my desk and told me not to touch the box and used my desk phone to call. someone. A lot happened, long after that guy left. Skip had called the police due to the box being left there, and they had a saw legs at the building. They had to treat it like a bomb, of course. This was a law firm, so having some unhappy people wasn't uncommon. However, the box just had a bunch of old newspapers and a brick to make it heavier, nothing else. Skip had also contacted the local delivery service we used, and they were able to confirm that they only had the earlier shipment that day, with our usual guy. But as for this suspicious guy, they had no record of him

even working there. Skip even explained his uniform, and they confirmed our suspicions too. The shirt was definitely not theirs, as the color on it was not correct. This guy had made a fake shirt and hat and brought in a decoy box. Everyone assumed that he was just after someone specific there, but if so, why would he lie about the name? Why not give the name of the actual person? Because that would have possibly netted them better results. But then the police circled back to him wanting help with a package outside and insisting that I help. They mentioned how they had similar reports of someone going to offices, schools, and even homes.

They would then ask for help with a larger package. Every time, it was a woman that he asked for help from. All but one of them refused. They told him to either do it himself or offered to get someone else that was around to help. If so, he would leave. But the one woman that agreed to help, when they got outside, he tried to push her into the back of the van, but she fought like hell and ran back into the building where they locked it down.

all those that saw this guy pull up and the woman that went out all said that his van was plain white. It had no indication that it was the delivery company he mentioned. I assume that's probably why they refused to help too. In the end, Skipp and the police all assured me that I did the right thing by refusing, and even one of the partners told me that if any delivery person ever gave them a hard time about our procedure, to call him, and he would take care of it. And that alone was a relief.

I was so worried about doing my job right, and without any help, that I almost considered going out there and just handling it myself. But with my size, I don't know how well I would have been able to fight him off. Luckily, we had cameras facing the parking lot, and we were able to provide the footage to the police since it captured the plate number,

hoping they could finally catch this guy. We never heard any updates, or at least I didn't within my time there. I worked there the entire time that I was in school, which was a good few years. And I even left on good terms. And I still talk to some of them frequently, and none of them have mentioned that guy.

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Hi, Raven. First time poster here, but I drive 600 miles a week for my job, and I find your podcast to be an incredible way to pass the time and miles. That said, let me get right to it. It was late July 1998, and my family and I were getting ready to go on a trip out west. We were slated to fly from New York to Las Vegas,

spend a few days out there and then road trip from Vegas to visit various sites in Utah and Arizona, before finally arriving in Los Angeles to spend some time with some old family friends, who had moved there several years prior. I was 13 years old at the time, and at about 10 p.m., I lay in bed unable to sleep due to the anticipation and excitement of my first trip out west. I could hear my parents moving about the house, cleaning, and packing their last remaining items. I shared a room with my little brother at the time, and he couldn't sleep either, so we spent our time talking about what we might do and see on the trip.

My family lived in an older home. It was built in the 1940s by my grandfather. He passed suddenly in 1976, leaving the house to my dad. The window in the upstairs bedrooms were original at this time. It wood framed with no insulation or tinting. They often rattled during winter windstorms and did not do the greatest job of keeping out cold drafts in the winter, nor heat in the summer.

They also did not do a great job of insulating our bedroom from noise outside. And as we talked, we could faintly hear the slam of our minivan door outside on the night. driveway below, as our parents finished packing it for our 5 a.m. departure to the airport. Our bedroom was situated on the second floor, in the southwest corner of the house. There were two windows, one facing west and one facing south. At the time, we had no air conditioning in the house, so we relied on open windows to let the cool night-time breezes flow through the rooms to cool them down.

However, there was one problem with that, the window facing west. The one which overlooked the driveway some 20 feet below had been stuck shut for as long as I could remember. I figured it was because this particular window which faced west endured the brutal lashing of the snow and cold winds in the winter, followed by long stretches of direct sunlight during the hot summer days. Over time, this warped the window frames such that the window was stuck in place. On the hottest nights, I remember it being so hot in our bedroom

that even fans did little to cool my brother and I off. He and I would often try our hardest to open this window to get a cross breeze going. He and I standing on his bed, counting to three, and heaving with all of our might to open it to no avail. It never so much as budged. On many occasions, after much complaining to our dad,

we watched in disappointment as he, a six-foot-tall, 200-pound man, tried as he might to open it with no success. This particular night was no different. At 10 p.m., it was still in the 70s outside and very humid. And my brother and I knew that sleep would be even more difficult with the stale, hot air in the room, combined with our excitement. We also knew, however, that Dad was far too busy getting ready to be bothered with trying in vain to open that window, so we let it be. Eventually, our exhaustion got the best of us, and we both drifted off to sleep.

Several hours later, I was lashed awake by a terrible sound. It was a loud, bang, and it jolted me awake in such a way that I never, thought possible. To me, it sounded like an explosion. I not only heard it, but seemingly felt its impact. When it happened, I was instantly sitting up in my bed, my eyes darting frantically around the room to ascertain the cause. It was dark in there,

the only light coming from the blue lava lamp that my brother and I kept on as a nightlight. As my brain awakened and my eyes adjusted, I could see a small human figure darting across the room. By its gait, and the way that it moved, I knew instantly that it was my brother. He was whimpering in fear, a sound I'll never forget for the rest of my life. Pure, primal, fear. I could hear his frantic footfalls across the hardwood floors as he scrambled for the door, and that's when I realized what had made the sound.

It was the bedroom door. A nocturnal thunderstorm had come up in the middle of the night and stirred up brief but violent wind gusts. I felt a cold, damp breeze washed throughout the room. It was both refreshing but somewhat unsettling, for I had never felt a breeze that strong in this bedroom, having only one functional window. Then lightning flashed,

and I was able to finally see what had slammed the door with such great, force. Though only briefly illuminated by the blinding lightning outside, I saw clearly that the window, the one which had been seized shut for years and years, was standing open. Not just a little bit open, but all the way, wide open. This allowed the wind from the storm to come in from both directions, creating positive pressure in the room and slamming our bedroom door with explosive force. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, and as the roll of thunder began to follow the lightning strikes, my mom and dad frantically entered the room, having both also been awakened by the noise.

Their first order of business was to calm my little brother down, who was now in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. They sat him on his bed as my dad quickly shut both windows, my parents seemingly unfazed by the window. They ignored everything as they tended to my brother. After a few moments, I spoke up. Mom, Dad? I asked. Who opened the window? They both went silent.

And I knew from their silence that they were as surprised as I was that this window which had been frozen shut for, as long as anyone could remember, had been found wide open to the driveway 20 feet below. It must have been found wide open to the driveway 20 feet below. in the storm, just go back to sleep. My mom replied, in a tone of voice that lacked any confidence or certainty. They left the room shortly after, and my brother quickly fell back into a deep sleep.

Not me. I lay awake, heart pounding, knowing full well anything of this world was not opening that window. I mentally recalled all the times my dad, who was a good-sized man and who worked out, in our home gym regularly, tried and failed to open that window. I turned to face the wall so as not to look at it and put my head under my pillow, and eventually returned to sleep.

From then on, every time I brought up the topic of the thunderstorm and the window, my mom and dad dismissed it as the work of the storm, and quickly changed the subject. But to this very day, all I can do is wonder. Hello, Raven, I have a few stories for you. The first one is from my mother when she was a child. The last two were from me. When my mother was a little girl, sometime in 1960s, in rural Texas,

her and her sisters all saw some small, large-eyed creature in their house. They described it like a small child with a large head, large eyes, pointed teeth, and ears. They watched it for a few seconds before it saw them and ran through a wall. Just passing through it, like it wasn't there. They saw it running out of a window as it left. They never saw it again, and my initial thought was, huh, early chupacabra. But walking through walls kind of kills that thought. plus they didn't have an issue with drained animals.

As for my story, I have a long history of sleep paralysis. When I was small, I had more episodes than I have as an adult. Almost all of them took the form of hearing someone break into my house. I would hear someone opening my window or my bedroom door and feel someone there, someone with bad intentions. My brain played fun with me since I didn't know what was happening at the time, and I thought the suffocating feeling was just from me trying to be as still and quiet as possible. This went on for some eight years, from around six years old to around 14.

After that, the episodes became increasingly rare, and I started learning about sleep paralysis. Unfortunately, this didn't help with how bad the episodes would become. When my wife got pregnant with our first daughter, I had a resurgence of episodes. The most memorable being a dream of being chased by some shadow monsters through alleyways. My dream followed me into paralysis. The shadow I was running from appeared at our bedroom door. The being looked similar to how the Dementors and Harry Potter were portrayed in the movies, except with no detail, just a shadow with eyes darker than the rest of the shadow.

as it entered the room it approached me, putting its face over me, and then my wife. It then reached out to grab my wife and my paralysis broke, and I was awake. I woke my wife scared something might have happened, but nothing. Tough night to sleep again. The second most recent was a significant escalation. I had just fallen asleep for a nap in the middle of the day, when a scaled reptilian had reached out from behind the bed and grabbed me. I felt each scale, the talon-like claws on each finger, and the coolness of a snake looking for warmth.

I woke almost immediately, but feeling a sleep paralysis manifestation scared me to no end. That leads me to my most recent experience. I struggle with depression. I had just been petitioned and was on. my second day of mental incarceration when it happened. If you've ever been inpatient for mental health, you'll know they make rounds and shine a light on you every 15 minutes or so at night. As one of the staff shined their light into my room,

the paralysis must have kicked in, as a shadow was next to the door. Easily eight feet tall, black red eyes, sharp-ended fingers, but otherwise indistinct. It seemed to know that I could see it, as it moved in, slowly extending its left hand towards my head. As it reached me, I could feel the hate in the shadow. I knew it wanted to cause me pain.

It reached one finger setting it above my right eye. I was screaming internally. My ears were filled with a deafening white noise and I couldn't move out of the way as it first touched my eye with its cold finger. and then pushed downward. I could feel the pain, kind of like being punched in the face, but continuous with a cold bite included. It felt like a frozen bar being pushed into my eye slowly.

Luckily, it only lasted a few seconds before it dissipated. Unfortunately, the pain didn't dissipate with the shadow, and I was awake with a cluster headache, joy. I have more little ones, like smelling the pipe tobacco of a dead man, hearing a computer keyboard being used with no one there, seeing small white blurs after one of my dogs died. My wife, dreaming of a dead man in her closet the night her uncle died, and a few other similar things, but nothing like the above. I was 21 back in 2019, and I worked during the day at a place called Coconut's Carwell. in Flagler County, Florida. I didn't go to college because I couldn't afford it.

My boss wasn't exactly the friendliest person, but he paid me a respectable amount of money, and I got along with almost everyone at work, except one guy who made me quit my job that year because of his creepy advancements toward me. This guy's name was Nicholas Sess, and he was 25 years old. He started working at the car wash at the beginning of that year. At first he seemed like he was a safe person to talk to. He acted polite and he made eye contact with me when we had conversations. We exchanged each other's social media and it was normal at first.

In March, he started acting more creepy toward me. He would keep touching me every chance that he could get. He would say he was doing it accidentally. but I wasn't dense, and I knew a liar when I would see one. He would also keep messaging me on Instagram for me to go out with him. I kept telling him that I wasn't interested, but he didn't take the hint. I was now feeling unsafe at work. I couldn't stand being in the same area as that creeper.

I tried to talk with my manager about this, but he was so rude and he said to me that I would have to deal with my own problems. I had no one to talk to. My parents weren't that loving to me, and I didn't have enough money to go and talk about this with a therapist. My other co-workers claimed that they were too busy to talk to, so I was alone. Nick's behavior started to get even worse. He went on social media harassing me with disgusting love notes.

One night, this finally reached a boiling point. I was just coming out of the shableness, with my bathrobe on, and the shades to my window were left open. I caught a quick glance outside for a brief second, turned away for half a second, and then turned my head in that same direction again. What I saw was pure terror. The outside streetlights provided a clear view only to see my creepy co-worker, Nick, outside of my house, sitting on what I assumed to be his bike. Right as he saw me,

and he peddled off away from my house until I couldn't see him anymore. How did he even know where I lived? I never told him my address, and I never hung out with him at work. That was it. I went to my phone and I blocked him on everything. After that, I emailed my boss and told him

that I was quitting because of Nick's advancements. I complained to my boss on many different, occasions, but he did nothing, and the only way to end this was if I left. After I finished that, I went to bed and hoped that that would be the end of it. But the truth is, it wasn't, and it kept getting worse from here. The next morning I woke up, and I saw a bunch of Instagram DM messages from an account that I did not recognize. I opened the app, and it was obviously Nick. He actually made another account because I had blocked him. The messages looked really odd and did not make any sense. This made me very uncomfortable. He also did the

same for Snapchat. I had blocked him on both apps again. Now this was before you could block someone on Instagram and new accounts that they created or have. The whole next two days, he would keep making more accounts and I was still blocking him. them. In all honesty, I was not surprised. Nick had become such a nuisance that I decided that I would disable my social media accounts because he was borderline stalking me. That night, I heard a knock at my front door. It had to have been Nick. I walked over to the door and looked through the people, and this confirmed that it was in fact him. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to make him aware that I was home, despite all the lights being on and my car.

being parked in the driveway. He kept knocking, and he finally said something. He said that he would not leave, and if I didn't open the door and give him an explanation, that we would have problems. Right there and then, I gathered the courage to say to him through the closed door that my father owned a gun.

I then got my phone out and dialed 911. I connected to an operator, and I told them every detail over the phone. I stayed on the line until the police got there. A police car pulled up right in front of my house, and I saw three officers step out of the car. They came in, and I told them everything that had transpired. After this, they left, and they were able to locate where Nick lived. They didn't arrest him, but they did warn him to leave me alone.

I thought this would do something, but of course Nick didn't listen. In fact, the next morning, the police caught him biking on his way to my house. This time they arrested him, and he was taken to the police station. He was put in an interrogation room where he admitted some very disturbing things. He confessed that he had been outside of my house multiple times for the past two months, and collected photos that I had posted online. This made me feel like my world was crumbling into pieces. Why would he still think that I would date him after I told him no many times?

He was very messed up in the head. Nick is currently facing a felony charge of burglary of a dwelling and a misdemeanor stalking charge. He's looking to face up to 15 years in prison and $11,000 in fines. When he gets released from prison, I highly doubt that he will still be obsessed with me, and he'll be able to put it past him. I just hope that I'm right about that.

Hi, Raven. I'm not sure how this fits into your stories, but I feel like it's a story that should be shared and not kept to myself. I was a creative and happy child, always drawing and writing little stories. My imagination felt limitless, and life seemed simple and carefree, but one day something happened that changed everything.

It was lunchtime and I was by myself eating crab, a treat that I didn't get often. I didn't know that I was allergic, so when my throat started to close, I thought it was just an asthma attack. I grabbed my ventiline inhaler and took a few puffs, waiting for the relief that usually came, but this time, nothing happened. My chest grew tighter and panic began to set in. I moved quickly to the nebulizer thinking it would surely work. I sat there desperate for air, but it didn't help. My breathing became more labored, and the fear inside of me grew. I called out for my mom, and she came running.

My mother, a nurse, immediately recognized how serious the situation was. She stayed calm, but determined, trying everything she could to help me. but then I lost consciousness. My mom began CPR, her training kicking in as she fought to bring me back. It was in this moment while my physical body lay there that something extraordinary happened. Suddenly, I was somewhere else entirely. All the panic, the tightness in my chest, and the weight of my body were gone. In their place was an overwhelming sense of peace.

It wasn't just calm, it was a deep, soul-filling peace that seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket. I wasn't scared, I wasn't confused, I just was. And then I saw him. A male spirit stood before me, though stood doesn't feel like the right word. He wasn't solid or human in any way. He was light and energy. radiating warmth and calm. He didn't speak, but I understood him perfectly.

It wasn't words or language, it was a feeling, a pull. He wanted me to follow him, and I didn't hesitate. Together, we moved into what I can only describe as a tunnel. But this wasn't a dark or ominous place. It was filled with light, a light that was alive, humming with energy and emotion. Every part of the tunnel radiated pure love, the kind of love that has no conditions or limits.

It wasn't just around me, it was in me, filling every part of my being. Along with that love came happiness and joy, but not the kind tied to moments or memories. This was deeper, pure and complete, as if joy itself was a living thing. It washed over me, surrounding and carrying me forward. I felt weightless and free, as though nothing in the world could ever harm me again.

As I moved deeper into the tunnel, I started to notice something extraordinary. I wasn't in my physical body anymore. The arms, legs, and skin I had always known were gone. But I wasn't nothing. I still existed. I was simply different. I had a spirit body. This body wasn't physical, yet it felt real.

I could sense myself as light and energy, glowing, softly radiating warmth. There was no heaviness, no pain, no boundaries. I felt fluid, free, and limitless. It wasn't like anything I'd ever experienced before, yet it felt natural, as though this had always been my true form. I wasn't tied to gravity or confined by space. I can move effortlessly not by walking or running, but by simply thinking myself forward. Every movement felt smooth and right.

I didn't miss my physical body. I didn't even think about it. This was me. The purest version of myself stripped of everything that didn't matter. The male spirit beside me was the same, light and energy, glowing with calm and warmth. There were no physical features to recognize, but I felt his presence deeply. It was comforting and steady, like he'd been there all along, waiting for this moment to guide me. This wasn't a dream or trick of the mind. This was real, more real than anything I'd ever known.

For the first time, I understood who I truly was, beyond flesh and bone. I was energy. I was light, and I was whole. At the end of the tunnel, I entered a vast dome-like structure. It was enormous, stretching farther than I could see, yet it felt intimate and comforting, as though it were holding me in its embrace. The walls and ceiling shimmered with colors that moved like a, in aurora, soft greens, radiant golds, and deep blues flowing and bending into one another, in a way that felt alive.

The light wasn't just beautiful, it was purposeful, carrying emotions that washed over me. Peace, love, and joy, each one more profound than anything I'd ever felt before. The air itself seemed to sing. There was a frequency, a hum that vibrated softly all around me. It wasn't a sound that you could hear with your ears, it was something you felt deep within, resonating in perfect harmony with the soul. It made me feel connected to everything around me as though I was part of this incredible place, woven into its very fabric.

As I stood there, surrounded by this living light and sound, I realized something remarkable. This wasn't even heaven itself. This was just the waiting room. a place to pause before stepping into something even greater. If this space so radiant and alive was only the beginning, I couldn't even imagine the beauty and wonder that lay beyond. I felt no rush to leave, no urgency to move forward.

It was as though time didn't exist here. I could have stayed forever, basking in the colors, the sound, the peace. The dome structure felt timeless. eternal and yet perfectly designed for this moment, a place to simply be, to rest in the presence of something far greater than myself. I was then guided into another dome-like structure. This one was different, smaller, more focused, but no less magnificent. The ceiling of the dome wasn't solid like the first, instead it was opened into a vast, breathtaking view of the universe.

stars, galaxies, and swirling nebulae stretched endlessly above me, shimmering with the brilliance that made my spirits sore. It wasn't just a view. It felt alive, as though the universe itself was watching and aware of my presence. On the floor of the dome was something extraordinary, a pool, but not one made of water. This pool was alive. a shimmering surface of light and energy swirling and glowing like liquid magic. As I moved closer, I realized its purpose.

It wasn't just a pool. It was a reflection of life itself. I looked into it and I saw my entire life unfold. Every moment, every experience, replayed before me with a clarity that was almost overwhelming. But it wasn't just my perspective. I saw. I could feel every emotion that I'd ever had, but also the emotions of everyone I'd ever been with.

I understood how my actions had rippled outward, touching others in ways I had never realized. The pool did not judge me. It wasn't about guilt or praise. It was about understanding. It showed me the purpose behind every moment, the lessons hidden in both the good and the bad. I saw clearly that,

life wasn't random or meaningless, everything that happens, every joy, every pain, every triumph and mistake has a purpose. It's all about learning and growing through experience. As I stood there, awestruck by the truths the pool revealed, I felt the presence of three beings in the room with me. They weren't like the male spirit who had guided me earlier. These were ancient, wise spirits, almost like high angels. They radiated wisdom and protection, their energy wrapping around me like a shield. They didn't speak, but I could feel their purpose. They were there to guide and protect me as I explored the pool,

ensuring that I could take in all of its truths without fear or confusion. In that moment, everything made sense. the struggles, the joys, and the losses. After the revelation from the pool, the three ancient spirits guided me to a table. It wasn't a physical table, but a shared space of energy and understanding. We sat together,

and they conveyed something to me, something profoundly important. It was as if they were sharing an answer to life, the universe, and everything beyond. But then, as if by design, the memory of what they told me was taken from me. All I know is that it was vital, something I was meant to carry with me, and all I can remember is the last thing they said.

You have to return. I didn't want to go. I pleaded silently to stay in this place where I felt so free, so weightless and at peace, but there was no choice. The male spirit appeared again, gently pulling me away from the table, away from the dome, away from the light and the love that felt like home. The beauty faded as I was drawn back to the physical world.

When I woke up, it wasn't into the life I had left behind. I woke into a coma. I wasn't aware, but I couldn't move. I could hear everything around me, my mother's voice, the doctors speaking in hushed tones, but I was trapped. I couldn't respond. I couldn't make a sound.

Couldn't even open my eyes. And when I finally emerged from the coma, things were no better. My body felt dense, impossibly heavy, like I was carrying the weight of the entire world on my chest. The freedom I had known

in the spirit world was gone. My legs wouldn't move. My arms wouldn't lift. My vision was gone, though my eyes. were open. I tried to will my body to respond, but it was like screaming into a void. Nothing happened. The crushing weight of my body was overwhelming. I was suffocating in my own skin, and I couldn't understand why I had been sent back like this. Anger and frustration boiled up inside

of me. Why would they send me back to a body that didn't work? Why couldn't I stay in the place where I had It felt whole and free. It felt cruel, incomprehensible, and I didn't know what to do. I was trapped, and all I could feel was rage at the unfairness of it all. The next few years were a blur of hospitalizations. My life became a cycle of doctors, nurses, therapists, and rehabilitation. The hospital felt more like home than my own house.

I spent hours in therapy pools, Trying to strengthen my legs, trying to make them move again, I worked through speech therapy struggling to form even a single sentence. Everything was a challenge. Even the simplest things felt impossibly hard. While the world outside moved on, I felt like I was stuck, frozen in time. I watched people running, dancing, laughing, things I had taken before for granted. There I was, sitting in my wheelchair unable to join in.

The isolation was crushing. I missed so much life, so many friendships. My friends stopped visiting me after a while. They all had their own lives to live, and I couldn't keep up with them anymore. The worst part was the longing. The two worlds, the one I had been sent back to and the one I left behind were so different. I missed the freedom, the love, the peace of the spirit world. I would close my eyes at night and try to return,

trying to find that tunnel again, but it never came. It felt so far away, and the ache of that loss was unbearable. I became deeply depressed. The weight of everything I had lost felt overwhelming. I didn't know if I would ever feel happy again, ever feel like myself. But even in the darkest moments, I tried to remind myself of what I had seen in the pool. I remembered how it showed me that everything in life is a lesson, even the bad moments, the struggles have purpose.

So I began to ask myself, what am I supposed to be learning here? The answer didn't come easily, but over time things began to change slowly. I started to regain the abilities I thought I had lost forever. I can walk again, though it took years of hard work. I can talk now, forming full sentences with ease, something that felt impossible at the beginning. And I can see again, though my vision is far from perfect. I have so many blind spots that I'll never be able to drive. I missed that freedom.

The ability to hop in a car and go wherever I wanted, whenever I wanted, whenever I'd. wanted. Instead, I rely on public transport, other people, and strict timetables which can feel limiting. Still, I'm grateful for how far I've come. Though my vision will never fully recover, I've regained so much of my life that I thought was lost forever. It's not the same as it was, and there are still challenges, but I'm here. And I'm learning to navigate with this new version of my life, step by step. Through all of this, one lesson has stood out to me, and I see it reflecting in the world around me.

So many people spend their whole lives working jobs they hate, struggling through endless hours just for a reward at the end, maybe a few years of retirement if you're lucky. They sacrifice their time and happiness, all to buy things they don't really need, to impress people they don't even like. It's a cycle that feeds on ego and false priorities. But life isn't about any of that. What I've learned and what I hope others can see is that you have to be your true self. Stop trying to be someone you're not.

Stop listening to people who wants to mold you into what they think you should be. This life is yours to live. Be yourself unapologetically. buy the things that you actually need or the things that genuinely bring you joy not to show off, not to feed your ego, but because they add real value to your life. Let go of the pressure to perform for others.

The greatest lesson I've learned is that life is meant to be lived authentically, not as a constant battle to prove yourself to people who don't matter. If you can embrace that truth, if you can let go of the distractions and focus on what truly matters, then maybe you'll find the peace and purpose that so many of us are searching for. I've been working in a gun shop for about 15 years now. It wasn't how I wanted my life to be as an adult, but I'm happy with it.

It was somewhere around 2016, where I was working one day in the phone rang. I picked up and said the gun shop's name. along with my name. The person then said back, I understand you sell hunting supplies, and it seemed like he was interested in buying some. Nothing out of the ordinary so far, as most people would call about similar things.

He then told me over the phone that he needed what are called thermal clips. I didn't even know what they were. It was weird that he had said this, but then I asked him, who is this? He then told me his. His name was Commander Shepard. He then repeated,

I need Thermal Clips. Now, I know for a fact that we didn't even sell Thermal Clips. I thought about it more, and I figured that this dude was just wasting my time and harassing me, with what I could only imagine that Thermal Clips is just made up. I then hung up the phone, only hoping he wouldn't call me again. I then phoned a friend of mine, who was actually a police officer at that time. I told him about my recent phone call with this guy named Commander Shepard. The next thing he told me left me in disbelief.

He told me that this guy had actually called multiple gun shops in San Francisco, which is where I'm at, and that he asked the same thing about Thermal Clips. I could tell that this loser just had too much time on his hands and wasn't actually a real commanding officer. I thanked my friend and hung up. Not even five minutes later, I heard the phone ring again. I picked up and yet again said the store's name along with my name.

I was hoping it would be anybody but the guy before, but in fact it was. He sternly then said, what the hell was that for? I told him that I had a trace on this call and had actually phoned a friend who was a police officer, and then he said that harassment could send you to jail. He then said, I don't give an ass about your damn security. I, again, hung up the phone because I wouldn't acknowledge this idiot anymore. I thought that that would be the end of it.

The phone then rang five minutes later, and before I could even say anything, the familiar voice from the last call said, Maybe we could figure this out. At this point, I'd already traced this number and reported it. I told him, go ahead, keep talking. what he said next would leave me intimidated for a long time. He threatened me and shouted over the phone that he would, uh, remove my family jewels and sell them. Now I was about to lose it.

I told him that this call was being traced while the phone was beeping as those were the sounds of it being traced. He then screamed at the top of his lungs. I'm getting a lot of BS on this line. I then warned him that if, if he was being seen, he said, if he called back one more time, that I would press charges. And then I hung up the phone. Well, I got my wish granted as he didn't call me back again. What was this dude's deal?

Was he just messed up in the head? It really didn't make any sense. This call still plays back in my head once in a while, and I just hope that he will never call the store that I work at again. 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. Bien-a-bore, embarked and profite. Embarked and celebrate. Rigolet. Publié. Savourer. Admir and profite. Via-Rai, the voice that we love.

Hey, Raven. I'm a huge fan of your pod. and wanted to share my story with you. When I was about 18, I moved in to my deceased grandparents' house. This house had an old lineage and connected to Indian culture and a lot of burials. Now, I'm not a superstitious person, but this was different. I was in the living room and I heard the squeaky back screen door open. I thought it was my dog, but she was right beside me.

I walked over to the back screen door and saw something very confusing. I saw a trail of footprints leading to my back door, but no one was there. I searched the house and found nothing except for a half-eaten can of Pringles and an expired jar of peanut butter. To this day, I still swear that someone or something was trying to rob my house. I have to start this story with a pretty severe, content warning, for essay. So, if that's not something that you're willing to listen to, I highly recommend skipping this story.

A few months ago, I was working in my chakra system. I re-remembered a bizarre memory. I thought, oh, I remember that. 1964 or so. A lady who looked like my mother, but was not, sat on the cement floor of our base, near the big boiler furnace. She was naked.

I woke as someone handed me to my dad and fell right to sleep, never to remember until recently. I have several lapses in my memory that are odd, too much to tell here. Many examples. I showed up for Thanksgiving, and no one was around and then no memory. Where is everyone?

This happened twice on Thanksgiving. When I was pregnant, I traveled to visit my parents. I recall the nights that I got there. The next morning I was supposed to go swimming, but not yet. They would let me know. Then there was a knock on the door. I get into the pool. My last memory was me thinking that I want to stop being in the pool and then blank, two days missing.

I never sat in the living room. I was made to feel that I wasn't allowed to leave. the pool until late. Then there was the time I went to visit my parents who stayed at a condo. I was so happy they wanted to see me, because they're very indifferent. Instead, I walk in, dad, my mom and my sister all look at me funny, and left. There's no one around, I think. Where are they?

And then big memory lapse. This is another memory that is absolutely a real. memory. I was on a date with my boyfriend, later husband, at his friend's apartment. There was a knock on the door. I go out onto an enclosed patio, only to be called in, where I see about six 1978-type men. I saw my boyfriend faint, someone came behind me, and then big time lapse. We woke on the bed, naked, and I was... bleeding. I feel that my parents were more common than we think.

People are allowing perverted people to come in and take pictures of their children for money, but to also keep their jobs. My dad was in radio, but I feel like this may be much more rampant in all upward mobile occupations. We may need an anonymous poll to find out, and society cannot continue with this going on. 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 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, And 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. When you were little, you've been braced some of assays of the course of recre, always in trying to negotiate and make these exchanges.

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