As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 189 - Unexplained Horror Stories & Creepy Encounter Stories

Episode Date: August 17, 2025

Today, on the 189th episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 10 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 some terrifying Unexplained Horror Stories & True Creepy Encounters. 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! I upload episodes every 3 days, so there are 2 days between new uploads. The podcast consists of new scary story collections, Glitch in the matrix collections, and also what I call the "Dark Dreams" collections (which are older stories, remastered and layered with rain sounds). 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 Thank you to all of the authors that have stories in todays episode... Stevie, Carsten, TiredAndConfused, Kenna Clark, Tom K., Marie, Abby As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. TimeStamps… Ad breaks after Story 1 & Story 5 1 ➤ 1:55 2 ➤ 11:03 3 ➤ 17:36 4 ➤ 20:00 5 ➤ 27:00 6 ➤ 38:21 7 ➤ 41:35 8 ➤ 52:05 9 ➤ 1:02:45 10 ➤ 1:04:09 ----- 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. None of my audio is AI Generated, I am a real person reading real stories into a real microphone. #ScaryStories #UnexplainedMysteries #LetsNotMeet Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hello, you beautiful, beautiful people. I hope you are having an amazing day so far. And I hope that you do enjoy these scary stories that are coming up here very soon. I don't normally do this. In fact, I never do this, typically. Which means the same thing. But I wanted to come in here and just mention that over the weekend, I saw the movie Weapons.

This is not sponsored. I am not paid. I have no connection to anyone involved. I just went and saw the movie, and in my opinion, it was really good. So if you've been on the fence about seeing it but are considering it, just I guess take this as a slight nudge to check it out. Again, it's really good. It's a bit of a slower burn, so if you like the psychological slow burn style movies,

that's definitely one for you. It doesn't rely on a lot of the old tropes, like the jump scare kind of stuff, but it was a good horror movie in my opinion. So I'm not huge in horror movies that may surprise some people. But because I don't like the tropey jump scare. Rha on your face kind of stuff. I like the more slow burn psychological thrillers. As those of you who've read my book, know I'm into psychological stuff.

Anyways, yeah, just a nudge to say, hey, check it out if you haven't. It's a really good movie. I love Julie Garner. I love Josh Brolin. And I love Zach. Zach Craigor, I think. He's from White's Kid You Know, the old comedy. sketch show. I don't know if you guys know that, but he actually wrote and directed the movie,

and I know more for his comedy, so it was cool to see something serious out of him. Anyways, check it out if you're interested, obviously. Don't, if you're not. Just wanted to throw my hat in the ring. It's not a review, not paid, not sponsored. Just thought it was a really good movie. So, anyway, let's go to the stories. Enjoy friends. I wanted to share a story with you about something that happened to me back in the winter of 2021. I was having a rough time between a rough breakup, stress of work, and family, not to mention the state of the world at that time. I wanted to get away but not spend too much money, so I resorted to staying at this old cabin that my uncle owned. I'd gone there plenty of times as a kid with my

family, and I loved it. It was secluded, no one else around for miles, surrounded by nothing but trees. All of us kids got older and visited less, so he opened it up to anyone in the family if they wanted to use it. I asked him if anyone was there, and since it was free, I told him I was going to use it for the weekend, and he told me where to find the key. But it's what I experienced there that changed the way I felt about that once, quiet getaway. The first few days were uneventable, which was perfect. I went hiking around the property one day and tried to, identify some animal tracks that I found in the snow. I gathered some of my own firewood, chopping

it up like I remember doing as a kid. Then I made myself food, and I ate by the fire with a book. The only electronic I had was my phone, and service was non-existent out there anyways, so it was like I was completely unplugged, and I loved it. I was enjoying the silence, and already feeling better and more centered. On the third night, I was on the back patio smoking before I got ready for bed. It was no longer snowing, but there was a good couple of inches on the ground at that point. The air was completely still, no wind. It was one of those silent winter nights, and I loved it.

As I stood on the patio, I started hearing what sounded like whistling coming from the tree line about 50 yards away. At first, when I wasn't giving it my full attention, I thought it was random whistles, but then I could make out a distinct melody. This was some kind of tune, but I couldn't quite place it. My first thought was that it may have been a hunter, maybe someone else who lived in one of the other cabins,

and maybe they got lost or were just passing through the property lines. It was still in the dead of winter and at night, so I called out to them asking if they were okay. The whistling stopped immediately. I waited, thinking maybe they were about to respond, maybe they were trying to find where the talking was coming from, maybe they were just going to walk up to the cabin instead. But then there was nothing.

After a few minutes of nothing, I figured maybe I had spooked them or they had moved on. I stayed where I was to finish my smoke before going back in, but then the whistling started up again. This time it was coming from a different spot in the tree line, a little further to the left of where I first heard it. This time I didn't call out. Since it moved, I figured they probably didn't know where I was.

Maybe I did, spoke them. Or maybe they didn't even hear me and continued to walk by. I didn't call out again, but instead just listened. The same melody was being whistled. It would stop in the same spot and then repeat. It did this three times. It was almost eerie not seeing where it was coming from and having it repeat, so I put out my cigarette and went back in early. I got ready for bed and made my place on the couch by the fire.

There were three bedrooms, but it was warmer by the fire, so I just decided to sleep there. As I started to drift off, I started hearing that whistling again. I opened my eyes and listened again to the tune. It sounded really close at that point, which was quite frank. a bit alarming. To be as loud and clear as it was, it had to be close to the cabin, which meant that it was too close. This was still private property.

I could understand hunters getting lost or just wanting to walk through, but to be that close to the cabin was not okay. I got up and turned on the outside light and opened the front door. The whistling was just as loud, but I couldn't see a single thing out there. no signs of anyone. I tried the back door, same result. The whistling also sounded just as close from the front and the back. Then I heard the sounds of a branch or something snapping like someone walked over it.

At that point, I was getting a bit freaked out. There was no way the person couldn't see me standing in the porch lights, yet I couldn't see them. And out there, it was highly likely that they had some kind of weapon on them. I shouted that this was private property and that they shouldn't be here, and again the whistling stopped. I listened again and I could hear the crunch of snow under someone's shoes. Then the whistling started again, but this time it sounded like it was coming from behind me, inside the cabin. I swung around and there was nothing there. No one.

I shut the door, locking it, and then I went and checked all the windows, grabbed the fire poker, and then locked myself in one of the bedrooms. This had gone from a therapeutic getaway to a creepy horror movie and I was not having it. I stayed in that room the entire night. Every little sound causing me to look around. I didn't sleep until I saw the sun come up. After just a couple hours of sleep,

I got dressed and went to check the outside of the cabin. I don't know what I was expecting to find, but I was hoping for something to prove that I wasn't crazy. In the end, I found nothing. It hadn't snowed that night either, and there was no new accumulation anywhere. It was clear on the path that I made. My footprints were still visible on the back patio, and those were the only footprints. There were no footprints anywhere near the cabin.

That was impossible. The whistling sounded close enough to sound like they were standing on the porch with me. There had to be footprints somewhere visible. so how was it possible that I couldn't see any? That was the final straw for me. It was too freaky, so I left. I packed up, and once I got back home, I texted my uncle telling him that I left early,

and he asked me if everything was all right. I explained the cabin was fine, and considered not mentioning it to him, but he'd always been open-minded, so I decided to tell him. I started explaining how there was some weird, stuff happening, and then his text stopped for about half an hour. I thought maybe he was thinking I was being dramatic and started feeling pretty silly myself.

Then, he finally responded asking, was it the whistling? I was shook. I didn't mention it, so he must have experienced the same thing. Did that mean that he knew who was doing it? Or that he experienced it too? After another 10 to 15 minutes, my uncle sent me a link to a video that I watched. To my shock, it was the same tune that I heard at the cabin. It was Stardust by Hogi Carmichael. The whistling part in the song was the exact tune that I heard out there. Listening to that in those dark woods, secluded and alone, it was terrifying.

My uncle then called me and explained how he had heard the same whistling for years. He even said that my dad, his brother, witnessed it, but no one knows why it's happening, or even where it's coming from. The closest thought they'd ever come to was that based on the area, there was an old logger business in the nearby vicinity back in the 20s. The building has since been torn down and the land sold, but my uncle thinks that maybe it was someone who worked there that may have died in an accident, or maybe got stuck in a blizzard and is now wandering those woods.

I could believe that theory, because the fact that it sounded like it was coming from everywhere and there were no footprints, I don't know what else fits. I'm just relieved that the whistling wasn't in my head, that I wasn't going insane. But at the same time, I don't know which would be worse. But at least I know now if I go back out there, I'll at least have some tunes to look forward to. Lazzang sur-gillet, Puisance-Moyerned 15 minutes. We're like

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on $1Mach $1mmmina DePos $10 $0. May you're this happened in 2004, but I remember it as if it was yesterday. I was 20 at the time. My roommate Stephanie had a cat named Spider that had gotten out, and we were both devastated.

I felt particularly responsible since I was the one who had opened the door when he made his escape, but she didn't hold it against me. Anyway, I was having trouble sleeping and decided I was going to go out to search for Spider, as well as hang up some of the lost cat posters we had made that day. I grabbed a flashlight, a bag of cat treats, and was off. This would have been just after midnight, but we lived in what I thought of as a safe suburban area, so I didn't feel scared.

I had walked at night many times without issues. Things started off nice enough. It was a warm, clear night with no moon. This made it particularly dark in areas that weren't illuminated by streetlights, but I didn't mind. I walked along shining my flashlight around shaking the cat treats as I went. We had already put up posters everywhere around our homes, so I was headed off a few streets over near a park that we hadn't gone to yet.

Once I was in the area, I started to stop at every light pole to pin up a poster. As I was working my way toward the park, I heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle coming my way. something loud with the rumbling engine. I didn't think much of it at the time, though. It wasn't until I saw a big red pickup truck slowing as it came towards me that I stopped what I was doing. I suddenly had a bad feeling in the glare of the headlights.

I was unable to see who was inside, but I just had a bad feeling. That feeling only got worse as the truck slowed to a stop right next to where I was standing. The window rolled down and a middle-aged guy with the receding hairline and a scruffy face leered out at me. He asked me what I was doing. I told him I was looking for a lost cat. He nodded and asked if I would like to ride around with him and he could help me look. I declined and told him I was fine with walking. He then asked if he could walk with me and I once again politely declined.

This is when his attitude soured. His face twisted into a dark expression. His eyes were pits of pure hate. He then called me a word that rhymes with witch. I backed up, looking around and realizing how completely alone I was. There weren't many houses near that particular stretch of road, just a wooded area in the park that I was headed toward. I decided to get out of there and took off running.

Luckily for me, I was pretty decent at track in high school, and those days weren't too far behind me yet. Of course, I couldn't run faster than his truck, but I could run places that he couldn't go. I made my way home by going through backyards, and even had to hop a few fences, but that was fine. I just wanted to be away from him. He tried his best to follow me from the street, but eventually lost me.

The sound of that big diesel engine was nightmare fuel for quite a while after this. When I got to my house, he was nowhere. to be seen. Much to my relief, he had been unable to track me. I locked the door behind me, plopped down on the floor and sat a while just trying to catch my breath. My heart rate had just about gone back to normal when the phone rang. We had a landline. It was still a pretty common thing to find in a house back then. Cell phones were expensive and service was still kind of spotty out where we lived. So the number we had put on the posters was our home phone number. That Crete must have helped himself to one.

Somehow I just knew it was him before I even picked up the phone. I answered with a sharp, What? And sure enough, the tirade of insults began. This time mixed with threats that he was going to find me. I yelled that I was calling the cops and slammed the phone down. He immediately called back, so I disconnected the line and threw the whole handset across the room. All this noise woke up Stephanie.

I was crying as I explained to her what happened. She comforted me and grabbed her cell to call her dad Mike, who lived on the other side of town. Despite it being nearly 2 a.m., he answered right away and was over within 30 minutes. We plugged the phone back in, tossed a frozen pizza in the oven, and waited. And it didn't take long before it rang. Mike picked it up without saying a word and let the creep rant for a good 30 seconds. Then he calmly said that he was an officer with our local PD

and that the call was being traced and recorded. While I don't condone impersonating law enforcement, this seemed to do the trick. The creep immediately hung up and did not call again. Mike spent the night on our couch just in case he did. Later that morning, we all went down to the station and informed the real police what had happened. We were especially concerned that he would match our landline number

with the address listed next to it, in the phone book. The cops were kind enough to have our street regularly patrolled for the next month or so. We never did get another call from the creep or see any signs of him. The cops also never found anyone matching his description out driving around. Spider, the wayward kitty, returned home safe and sound during this time. He came back all on his own, yelling for food outside the door one night. I guess he got hungry after nine days on the street.

We went around the next morning, taking down any remaining posters. While doing this, it occurred to me that if that man had got me into his truck, that I would be the one with my face plastered all over missing posters. In the years since, I've gotten married and have a family of my own now, and I've never again walked outside alone at night. Anyway, Raven, I love your show and I wanted to share the story in hopes that it maybe could save someone from doing as I did. So, thank you.

So, the story took place in 1998, when I was 13 and an eighth grade at Clever High School, in the town of Clever, Missouri. It was a crappy little town with one stoplight, one grocery store, and a feed mill. From what I hear, it's still a crappy town, but only a bit bigger these days. The school was so small that they had elementary,

that's K through 5, and then high school, 6 through 12. I guess I'll go ahead and preamble this by saying that the story took place on Halloween, and by this point I had a bit of a reputation at this school, because I was the big city boy, the goth kid with long hair and dark clothes, and with this being a country school, I kind of had to stand up for myself a lot. So this particular day, as I said, was Halloween. and the school had given people permission to wear their costumes, sans full-face masks, to school.

Well, I went dressed like the crow. And as I was walking up to the school, this older kid, a junior or senior, I don't remember, walks up and just starts laying into me with a very charged language. Things I would not dignify by repeating them here. And being who I am, I wasn't having it. I went right back at him and things got really heated,

and a fight nearly broke out right there in front of the school before the doors had even been unlocked to let people in. It didn't get to that point, so I went on about my day. Then, around lunchtime, out of nowhere, every cop in town, well, three of them, plus some county sheriffs were crawling all over the school. Turns out, that kid, had a gun in his locker, alongside some drugs. And the rumor had been that he was going to be waiting for me after school.

That was my last day going to a public school. I was homeschooled until I was 16 when I got my GED, so that was my near miss at school. Funny world, isn't it? Hi, Raven. I love your channel. I'm not a native English speaker or writer, so please bear with me if there are any typos in my text. I apologize in advance for misspelling, but I really want to share my story with you. Or more so, it's not my story.

It's a story about my wife. Me and my wife are both sort of spiritual, not religious much, but spiritual. I'm okay with your typos as long as you're okay with me butchering the German in this story. I try to do pronounce on Google, but it wasn't working, so I have to do my best. My wife had a situation that she cannot explain all her life. and it's mind-boggling what she has experienced over the years. As a teenager, she performed Glazerokin, which is shoving jars, as it is very popular among young people in Germany.

Glazerucan is quite similar to the use of a Ouija board that you most likely know in the U.S. It's pretty much the same. You place small notes with each letter in the alphabet on a table, as well as each number from zero to nine, and the words ja for yes, nine for no, and not vizain for goodbye, on the table. The major difference between the American and English version and the German one

is that she put a small jar upside down on the table, with everyone just putting their index finger on top of it, so that the spirits, or whatever, can move the jar to each letter and number. Anyway, now that I've explained the thing, I hope you get the idea. Here is what she experienced performing it. As I told you, she performed it as a number. as a teenager, so the questions that they asked moved more towards the issues that young adults are dealing with. On one occasion, they were performing it in one of her friend's bedroom.

Now, just picture the usual teenager bedroom, like they are in the U.S., with a lot of mess lying around, a lot of posters hanging on the wall and a small pack of girls kneeling on the floor, performing Glazerokin. As it progressed, the usual questions arose, like, who's in love with me. Who will I be in love with? Who's holding a grudge against me and so on. Then, one of her female friends asked one question that differed from all the other questions, because it was addressed to the ghost directly. She asked, where are you? It's a simple question, so you might suspect a simple answer, right? Well, the glass moved and it spelled the words B-E-H-I-N-D behind, T-H-E-The, E-M-I-N-E-M-M-M-M-M-P-O-S-T-E-R poster.

Now you've got to understand that Eminem is a popular artist in Germany as well, so he's well known here too, but what left them speechless is what happened right afterwards. Right after the ghost finished talking, the girls turned their heads to the only Eminem poster in the room, And right as they did, one of the needles holding the poster on the wall fell off of the wall. A corner of the poster now leaned toward the girls exposing the blank wall behind it. The girls obviously were in awe. Astronomical coincidence, you might say. Well, then let me tell you another one.

On another occasion, they were performing it on a warm summer night outside their town hall that is a bit outside of the town that she lives in. Now, you've got to keep in mind they didn't do this in complete darkness, which will be important later. There were streetlights and lights coming from the town hall all around them. She and her girlfriends were sitting there performing Glazerokin, again, and it was the usual teenager stuff asked by the teenagers, until one of them met the ominous mistake of addressing the ghost directly again. She asked, what is your name?

And the jar responded. It just spelled S-A-T-A-N, Satan. And as soon as it reached the letter N, there was a sudden bang, and all the lights around them just went off. Not just the streetlights above them, but also the lights coming from the town hall, and it was pitch black in the entire town, a full blackout that affected the area. The girls were terrified and left the place screaming in fear. they ran towards the center of the town when they saw that there was just one house not affected by the blackout. It was the house of my wife's parents.

Her spiritual mother always warned them about performing Glazerokin, as she saw it as a tool of raising demons. The girls all went into the house and told my future mother-in-law what had happened, to which she replied with something like, I told you so. On the third occasion they were performing it, in one of the girls' bedrooms, where they were trying to get to the bottom of things, they were trying to find out what actually moved the jar.

So, they started Glazerucan again, but this time one of the girls had to lift their index finger every few seconds, so that it was clear that none of the girls had moved the jar intentionally. As every time it was the usual questions about school or boys or something like that, with the exception that none of the girls were holding their index finger on the jar permanent. And what was striking is what then happened. From one second to another, the jar just rushed to the wall, striking it to a thousand bits, as if it was thrown by force.

It almost exploded on the wall. Needless to say, the girls were shocked and devastated. How can you ever explain or forget something like that? Now, my wife hasn't performed Glazerokin afterwards, as it was too intense for her. I know that this sounds like a made-up story, but I've honestly no doubt to believe her. She would swear on her life that this is all true. She wouldn't want to perform it nowadays because she believed that her naive, childish-like approach protected her somehow. We in Germany have a popular saying of Wilpenchutz, which is puppy protection. That relates

to someone's experience. It's basically saying that if you're young, clumsy and unexperienced, You are going to have to be guided and protected by an organization or other people or the universe itself until you can stand on your own two feet. So she's basically saying the universe somehow guided or protected her so that these experiences didn't cause any actual harm to her. I want to start this entire write-up is me going rogue. That's Tom going rogue. And doing this on my own. Raven isn't going to even know that this write-up is a thing until he looks in his email and then's going to ask what it is. It's true.

Okay, so now that the humor is out of the way, I do want to say that the story is important to me specifically, because it really highlights the mental health crisis that is ravaging society. I wrote this not as an indictment, but just to raise awareness because, at this point, how many completely pointless and preventable tragedies have to happen before we begin to take mental health seriously. That is one of the most important issues in the world for me, because, and this may shock some of you, I struggle with my own mental health issues every single day, and most of the time it feels like it's an issue that only I take seriously, especially when I'm desperately

seeking help for what's going on in my head. That's Tom stating that, not me, so that's clear. So with all this in mind, let's look at the life and tragic events that led to the death of one of Hollywood's brightest. Up-and-comers. Johnny, Kendrick Lewis, was born October 29th of 1983, in Los Angeles, California to Michael and Devona Lewis. He was their middle child and always seemed like a bright and happy kid.

His parents were Scientologists, and Johnny was a practicing Scientologist for the majority of his life. After he turned 18, was when Johnny left home to pursue a career in acting. One could say that he definitely found some success early on when he landed smaller roles on TV shows, such as Boston Public, The Guardian, and even appeared in a few episodes the Nickelodeon series Drake and Josh. He also co-starred in the 2004 movie, Raise Your Voice, alongside Hillary Duff. It was very clear early on that Johnny had a lot of talent, and a lot to offer show business. And eventually this led him to getting a call from Kurt's son.

Sutter, who was casting for the silly little show he was wanting to create, called Sons of Anarchy. Johnny was cast as the club's prospect Kip Half Sack Epps. The show, as most of us know, went on to be wildly successful with Johnny's character being one of the more popular ones. Some of the crew have said that Johnny was definitely not like the other members of the cast on the show. While the main cast all kind of stuck together and were very much in character on set, Johnny would be off by himself reading poetry. It seems he was never really close with his other cast members, and when he did hang out with people, they were usually his hair and makeup ladies, who just thought the absolute

world of the young man. It's from these sources that we learn that Johnny was never really happy while he was working on Sons of Anarchy, and that he really despised the show's themes of violence. It was under these circumstances that in season two of, of the show he requested that they write his character off. He and Kurt Sutter decided that it would be best to give Halfsack a noble death, than to just have him leave abruptly and die off camera. So, at the end of the second season, his character was killed while trying to protect an infant.

There are really no indicators that during his time on the show, Johnny exhibited any of the signs of having mental health or substance issues. with his former hair and makeup ladies saying that, while people on the set did use substances, he never did. And that substances just were never really his thing. Although from here, a lot of the roles he ended up in were even darker and more violent than what he was doing and portraying on Sons. He got a role as a serial killer on criminal minds,

as well as some other really dark roles. It was after he left Sons of Anarchy that Johnny started to show some signs of depressive, and struggling a bit with his mental health. But in October of 2011, the day after his birthday, Johnny Lewis would crash his motorcycle while not wearing a helmet. Afterwards, he refused MRIs twice and tried to just go back to his life. But he had changed. He began to exhibit very erratic behavior and bizarre outbursts of violence.

One example of this was on January 3, 2012, when two men came home to find Johnny Lewis in their hands. house, wearing pajamas, and when they told him to leave, he refused. An altercation ensued in which Johnny assaulted both men with a bottle. This would be the first of three arrests for the young actor and would mark the moment when his behavior really went into a dramatic decline. And while this was the first instance of the violence he'd had inside him, it would not be the last.

On February 10th of 2012, Johnny was arrested again when he'd been. struck a man in a parking lot of a Santa Monica yogurt shop. He was arrested again, eight days later, February 18th, when Johnny was attempting to break into a woman's house where she caught him trying to open one of her windows. When she confronted him, he said that he was looking for his friend Bob. She said, no, you're trying to break into my house. At which point, he just walked away. By this point, people were becoming concerned. not just for the safety of the community as a whole, but for Johnny himself. At this point, it was clear just what a spiral of self-destruction he was in,

and everyone began to fear that the worst was bound to happen. Sooner, rather than later. In September of 2012, Johnny was released from prison. His father arranged for him to get a room at the famous Riders Villa, an upscale mansion owned and operated by Catherine Davis. The Riders Villa was kind of a little bed and breakfast, which Kathy had run for a long time. Many famous people had found lodging with her over the years, including Brad Pitt.

Johnny himself had resided there in 2009. This would be a most unfortunate turn of events for a lot of people. As just five days after his release from prison, due to overcrowding, police would be called after Johnny had assaulted two of the neighbors. The people who ended up fighting him that day said that it was like he was impervious to pain and had superhuman strength. The victims managed to escape by fleeing inside their house, but Johnny was relentless,

and he managed to get his arms in the door before it could be shut all the way. The victims slammed the door on his arm multiple times before Johnny gave up and jumped the fence and vanished inside the villa. When police arrived on the scene, what they found was tragic beyond comparison. Johnny Lewis was found lying dead,

in the driveway, with obvious head trauma. Once the police made entry into the villa and began searching for any signs of Mr. Davis, the police found the true horror. On the second floor of the villa in the master bedroom, they found Mrs. Davis's body. She'd been brutally assaulted with a hammer and strangled to death. In the bathroom, they'd found that her cat had also been killed. These events truly rocked the neighborhood and the greater community as a whole, and in the days to follow, not many of the questions everyone had would truly get satisfactory answers.

Now, I know what everyone listening is probably thinking. Sounds like drug-induced psychosis. I'm paraphrasing at best here. However, based on the toxicology reports, Johnny had absolutely no traces of any substance in him at the time of his death, legal or otherwise. The reaction to the news was actually very, very mixed. with some being completely taken off guard by the entire situation, while others, such as Kurt Sutter, would say that while it was tragic,

he wasn't shocked that something like this had happened. Now, this particular statement raises some questions with me, because it makes me wonder if, while working on Sons of Anarchy, maybe Kurt had seen some blossoming warning signs, or if the way Johnny's path ultimately went as a result of the brain trauma from his motorist, cycle accident. Most of the main cast of Sons, that's Ron Perlman, Katie Seagall, and Charlie Hunnam, made no comment in the aftermath of the tragedy.

But other cast and crew did express remorse over the whole incident. This is certainly one of the more tragic stories out of Hollywood and show business, because Johnny had always been such an intelligent and sweet guy, introspective and artistic. He loved acting and was definitely going places in the first. profession. If not for the demons he battled in his own mind getting the better of him on multiple occasions, he could easily have been one of the biggest and most successful actors alive. He had already achieved such a level of success that he had been supporting his family instead of the other

way around. We will most likely never know just what was going on inside of Johnny Lewis's head, or what led him to become so violent, especially after leaving a wildly successful show citing his dislike of violence as the reason. I will say there are conflicting reports prior to his death about him having a substance abuse issue in articles regarding him in his struggles, but people closer to him have said that he was never into that kind of thing. The lack of any substance in his system at the time of his death

tells me that, at the time of the murder, and his death, substance abuse was not his primary issue by any means. I think his demons were the intrusive and self-destructive thoughts that often plague many people, especially those who were on the creative end of the spectrum. I definitely feel that most of the violence that occurred in his life after the accident in 2011 could have been prevented if the people who were witnessing his decline and the professionals that he was dealing with during his jail sentences had taken his mental health more serious and gotten him the proper treatment.

then maybe Ms. Davis and Johnny Lewis would still be alive today. And yes, that is heavy speculation on our part, and a healthy dose of opinion that is based on my perspective and comes from the context of someone that battles with a lot of these kind of issues. So, I help you forgive my little deviation from my usual unbiased perspective and indulge me in this. Whether you agree or disagree with that is entirely up to you. As usual, we're not trying to sway or convince anyone,

of anything, just sharing a really tragic story and offering some of our own thoughts and viewpoints on just what exactly happened that terrible day when two certified gems to the entertainment industry were lost forever. October 9th, 2024 was the worst moment of my life. It was around 1 a.m. in Bridgeport, Connecticut, and I along with some other officers, responded to a call about a man being unstable and acting, erratically. We arrived at the house and another officer knocked on the door. We saw two men come to the door.

One was with a round hat and the other one just had a bald head. They just stood there without a response. The same officer along with me, both knocked on the door a second time. After the knock, I told the man with the hat who was standing in front of the other man to unlock the door. He then turned his back to us, as he was blocking the other guy from unlocking the door. I then decided that I was going to unlock the door with a small pocket knife that I would always carry while on duty. I kept attempting, but I failed.

Meanwhile, the bold guy was able to get past the man in the hat, and he unlocked the door for us. After he unlocked the door, things started to get more intensely crazy. Me and the other officer were still by the door, and at that time, I didn't know what was in his pockets, nor did I look. But as the door was not even fully opened yet, the man in the hat just started walking out to his right, which is where I was and said straight to my face, I'm going to effing kill you.

He then took something from his right pocket of his coat. Then he lunged at me with the object, and I felt a knife stab into my shoulder, and then it being taken out. I couldn't react fast enough, as he then stabbed me in the neck and took it out, which I couldn't speak or breathe. He then stabbed me in the head and took the knife out again,

which made me start to lose consciousness. I pushed the guy off me with all the force I had left, and then I started to go blurry. I stepped off the front porch and onto the side grass. I couldn't maintain focus anymore, and my eyes were looking down at the grass below me. As I was looking down, I heard two gunshots,

and then heard all of the officers say to drop the knife and to put the knife down for a good 30 seconds. Medics also arrived at about the same time the commotion ended. I was then rushed to the hospital, where I stayed for four days and then went home afterwards. As I'm writing this, I've now made a full recovery. The guy who stabbed me got shot twice in the spine and is never going to walk again. He's still awaiting.

trial as he's currently being held in a county jail. Have you ever had that feeling of being moments away from death? Well, that's what I felt. Thank God the doctors were kind enough to save my life. I'm still working as a police officer, and I don't plan to quit any time soon. I don't know where to start from here, so I guess I'll just start off by saying what happened at the end of 2017.

I was a new student at a small school in November of 2017. The size was around 50 kids in total. Yeah, I know, small, right? The reason I went there was because the things that I was learning in the old school were way too advanced for me. I had to transition into a school where the work was way easier and where I could focus better. It's called the Smith School, and it's based in New York City. It used to be a school for kids who had a criminal history. Now it's changed into a school with kids who have special needs.

I was only there for almost a full year, and when I transferred into a bigger school, I was pretty much friends with everyone at that school, because the school was so small. I even ended up dating a guy. His name was Kyle Fernandez. I believe that I started dating him in February or March of 2018. The reason why he went to the Smith school is because he got kicked out from his previous school,

due to selling weed to the other students at that school. And one person ended up telling on him. The first two to three months of dating him, he was nice to me and to the people that went to our school. But at the same time, he was also high on drugs for most of the time. I never smoked weed and I never will. Kyle would also sometimes take me to hang out with his outside school, friends. They were also a lot like him, smoking and selling, and they have their pants sag which

would reveal their underwear. It was so eye-burning to see that crap, but Kyle loved me and I loved him. While Kyle and his friends would do stuff that would get them in trouble, I would stay out of it. And to my miracle, Kyle never pressured me to join along with them. A few more months went on and our relationship would stay the same, until one day in July where everything changed. On that day, Kyle came over to my place at nighttime. For an hour, we were just chatting in my bedroom until my phone kept going off. It was a bunch of text messages from my friend Liam. I opened eye message and saw that he sent me a bunch of edgy but funny memes.

I started laughing hard, and Kyle then asked, Who's texting you? I told him that it was my friend Liam. He then asked me if he could see the texts. I then responded saying, Please, it's really nothing. He's a long-time friend who makes me laugh all the time. Kyle then got really upset with me

and demanded to look at my phone. My smile faded away. I now felt a little skittish, and I then muttered the word, No. Take a guess on what happens next. I think you know. What Kyle did after I told him no

was that he grabbed my phone and threw it into the wall. Glass went everywhere, on the floor, the lamp, the top of my drawer, and on my bed. I was in disbelief with what had just happened. As a reaction to what Kyle just did, I put my arms up to my face because I didn't know what he would do next. I then felt his hand grabbed my left arm and then he did something that made me change how I saw him as a person.

I saw the glass from my phone on his hand, and before I could see him, he did something. say anything, Kyle plunged the glass into my arms so fast, and then took it out about two seconds later. I then screamed. I screamed so loud that probably Africa could even hear me. As I was still screaming, Kyle then screamed at me. Are you happy now? And then he ran out of my room and out of my apartment. I really wish my mother was home at the time, but of course she wasn't. I then ran right to my bathroom, and I washed the stab wound with soap and water. It was hurting like hell when I did that. Then I got this humongous bandage and put it on my left arm. After doing that, I went back to my phone, took the shattered screen protector off, and then proceeded to block Kyle on everything.

If he tried to come and see me again, I would make it clear that I never wanted to see him again. To my shock, he never came to my house again, and I never saw him on the streets. but I did look around my surroundings to be safe, and I indeed was. I kept what Kyle did to me a secret, and when everyone else asked what happened between me and Kyle, I just said, our relationship was just not going in the right direction. Everyone actually seemed to believe me.

I didn't let anybody know what the real reason was, because I was just too scared. But me being scared all changed because of something else that happened in the summer of 2023. It was early August of 2023. I was at work that day, and while working, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket.

I took my phone out of my pocket to see who was calling me, and it was a 212 number. For the people that don't know, 212 is an area code number that is the home code in New York City. It wasn't my home phone because I knew my home phone number.

I was curious to see what company was calling me, so I picked up the phone and said hello. I heard a woman on the line asking if this was me. I replied back saying, yeah, it's me, who's this? I then heard the woman say, this is 42nd Street, New York Presbyterian Hospital,

Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center calling, and I'm here to inform me that your mother, along with 10 other people, have been hit by a car and she's in critical condition. As I heard this, I felt my hand shaking while holding the phone. I tried staying, composed and said, I'll be there right away.

I ran out of my workplace so fast without telling anyone where I was going and what had happened. I got to the hospital in about 10 to 15 minutes. I asked where my mom was, and a woman at the front desk said that she was in a room right down the hall. I ran over to that room, and when I got to it, I saw that she was in a coma. I sat down next to her crying like I've never cried before in my life. A nurse came in and I asked her for the details of that incident. The nurse said that a man had stolen a car while intoxicated, and he drove onto a wrong way street and then onto a sidewalk striking a cyclist at first,

and then he hit a woman, which was my mom, and about five others, and they all flew into each other. I was so taken back hearing this that I asked if they found out the guy's name yet. The nurse said, We don't know yet, but we might get answers tomorrow. The next day then came, and there was amazing news and life-shattering news. I'll start off with the good news. The good news was that my mom had woken up.

The bad news is that the person who drove that vehicle that hit my mother and six other people was someone who I knew very well. It was actually Kyle. I was in such incredulity. I was going to make sure that he was not going to get away with this. Thank God he'd been tackled by Good Samaritans on the street, and that the police had him in custody. I wanted to scream so badly, but I would just be humiliating myself by doing that. Another part about the bad news is that a couple of days later, I would find out that my mother will never be able to walk again.

I felt as if my life was over. When this news story broke out all around the country, everyone thought this was a terrorist attack. they thought that because of seven bodies all flying into each other. I also felt very self-assured that I would tell my experience of dating Kyle to the court and to the public, but keeping who I was private. I wrote a letter to the court where Kyle was at, and I wrote about the time that he assaulted me with the shattered glass of my phone that he had thrown. After this was right out in court, another woman who Kyle dated in 2022,

who came forward about how she was a victim of domestic violence from Kyle. This warmed my heart because she felt inspired to tell her story as well, and that we would stick together. In the end, Kyle was actually found guilty of his domestic violence on me and the other woman that he dated, and for his drunk driving case. After he was found guilty, he was sentenced to two and a half years behind bars. That sentence is way too short. It should be 20 years because of the seven victims he unintentionally hit with the car

and leaving most of them with lifetime injuries. He must have hired an amazing lawyer because of such a short sentence. I have nothing but hatred for Kyle now after he changed my mother's life for the worse. People like him never change. I know I might be taking things out of proportion, but I'm never going to get over this, and this is how I really feel. While Kyle is serving his time in prison, I hope that he reflects on his actions that he did to hurt people and goes to rehab where he can change as a person. My advice to him is that he needs to move out of New York City, which is a very toxic environment, and start a new life where he helps people instead of hurting people.

If anyone's interested, there is a video of Kyle getting tackled online everywhere and it went viral. The video shows Kyle getting tackled by three men and being confronted about what he did. He would deny that he did it, which showed that he is a liar and has no remorse by running away, and not even checking up on the people that he hit. For the people living in New York City, when Kyle gets out of the prison and you see him on the streets, avoid him at all costs because you don't want to be his next victim. When we talk about the history of the United States, particularly the era of westward expansion into what was then called Indian territory,

Fort Leavenworth is one of the most prominent spots on the map. Known for being the oldest active military post west of the Mississippi River in the 1800s, it was one of the most important stops for any enterprising pioneer that had crossed the Mississippi and was on their way to make their fortune out west. The fort itself was established in 1827 by Henry Leavenworth, and was originally known as Contonement Leavenworth. During the fort's early days, its primary function was to secure the Santa Fe Trail, to help protect the fur trade that passed through the area and later on the Oregon Trail

and the other various routes west that began to spring up. The soldiers at the fort were often the security detail for traders and wagon caravans that moved ever further into the uncharted wilderness of the west. And as such, there are no shortages. of bloody conflict in the area. The lives of natives, soldiers, bandits, and pioneers ended on that soil.

At one point, in May of 1829, the entire fort was evacuated by the military and the Kickapoo tribe occupied it over the summer and into the fall of that year, when the army managed to recapture the fort. In 1839, Colonel Stephen Kearney would march against the Cherokee with the largest cavalry force ever assembled,

in U.S. history, 10 companies of dragoons, which would be between 1,000 and 2,000 mounted troops. By 1859, with the passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act, the primary role of Fort Leavenworth shifted, when it began doing its level best to keep the lid on the brewing troubles between pro-slavery and anti-slavery groups in the area during the time, known as the Bleeding Kansas era. It's also of note that in 1857 to 58, it was from Fort Leavenworth that General Albert Sidney Johnston rode out to bring the Mormons in Utah back under federal jurisdiction. During the Civil War, when the Western outposts were undermanned,

the local native tribes began regularly raiding the railroad encampments and attacking the crews sent to build the expanding artery to the west. Confederate prisoners of war were often conscripted to go into the wilds and combat these natives and bring an end to their raiding. The primary reason for the natives raiding the railroad so vigorously was the violation of multiple treaties by the U.S. government, who constantly failed to uphold their end of the bargain, and this increasingly ramped up tensions and hostilities among the tribes. During a period of less than 30 years, that's 1865 to 1891, the U.S. military at Fort Leavenworth

engaged in no fewer than 100 battles with the Apache, the Cheyenne, the Modoc, the Kickapoo, and other tribes. It would be very remiss of me to not mention that the first two of all black cavalry regiments were formed at Leavenworth in the days after the Civil War. The 9th and 10th cavalry regiments were often sent to engage the native tribes in battle, and the natives held the men in high regards. They began referring to them as the Buffalo soldiers, and, to this day, a monument honoring them stands at Leavenworth.

It was in 1875 that the United States disciplinary barracks was established. This is one of the things that the fort is most known for, as it is the only maximum security prison within the Department of Defense, and services all branches of the military. Notably, it operates the same buildings from 1875, until 2002, when new barracks were established. The older barracks housed over a thousand federal prisoners, while the newer barracks holds around 500. During the days after World War II, Leavenworth became the temporary home for Nazi POWs before their ultimate execution at the fort.

Now that we've gone over some history, let's get into the good stuff, the hauntings. All of this has been to establish the context in the bloody history of the fort, with such a history, and, more that I didn't touch upon for the sake of time and generally not droning on like this is a thesis paper, I think it comes as a surprise to no one that Fort Leavenworth is regarded as the most haunted, active military post on U.S. soil. While many of the old historic buildings still stand, the base itself has been quite thoroughly modernized, but the older parts are definitely seen as haunted.

A good number of spirits and other ghostly happenings are said to take, take place on the old fort's grounds, with most of the spirits theorized to be those of executed prisoners, or those that died while being housed in the barracks. Some are also thought to be from the National Cemetery that lies just beyond the walls. So, just for you, my dear audience, we've gone down the rabbit hole of the internet and found some examples of known hauntings on the old grounds. One, the ghostly tea party. At 624 Scott Avenue, the chief of staff's quarters are said to still host ghostly tea parties within the parlor. While there have yet to be any sightings of apparitions,

there are steady streams of reports that say the noises of a tea party, general chatter and clinking of dishes, can be heard from a completely empty parlor. To the Phantom Priest of St. Ignatius. In 1871, the first Catholic Church, St. Ignatius, was built on the grounds. In 1875, the church an attached rectory burned, claiming the life of the young priest who was assigned to said church. Many materials of the original church were salvaged and reused in the reconstruction of the building,

and as such the site of many scorched bricks can be seen in the facade of the church. But another unprecedented carryover from the original building lingers in the form of young Father Fred, who is often spotted walking the building in his ethereal priest rose. In the 1970s, Father Fred's apparition even appeared in a photograph taken at a dinner party. Three, the disgraced general. Perhaps one of the most nefarious figures in U.S. history is said to roam the old general's quarters located at one Scott Avenue. A general Armstrong Custer is said to roam the halls of the old residence. They say the attachment to Leavenworth is due to it being the location where he was court-martialed in 1867,

for leaving his command and mistreating his troops. The hearing is said to have taken place in the general's quarters, where he was handed a one-year suspension without pay. He was later reinstated and rejoined the 7th Calvary in 1868, where he served until the disastrous battle at Little Bighorn in 1876. For the Haunted Towers. The area around the disciplinary barracks is ringed by a dozen watchtowers, and even before the barracks was closed,

not all of these towers were manned. Over time, Tower 8, which has not been renovated in years, and was not manned at all during the later years of the barracks being open, has gained a reputation as being quite haunted. At a time when other towers were manned, Tower 8 was completely blocked from entry, and the only way to reach it was via the walkway connecting to another tower, and yet often the guards would report seeing movement in the tower. The control tower would even receive phone calls from Tower 8, despite it not having a phone installed.

At one time, a patrol car reported a soldier manning the tower and pointing his rifle at them. The story goes that long ago a soldier ended his own life in the tower via a self-inflicted gunshot, and it sounds like even in the afterlife he still carries on his duties. 5. The rookery. The rookery is the oldest house on post, and has been continuously inhabited since its construction. in 1832. It's said to have many ghostly occupants and has earned the reputation as the most haunted house in Kansas.

The most common apparition is that of a woman with flowing black hair that will rush people with her claws bared for an attack. Another of the ghostly inhabitants is a young girl that has often seen or heard having herself a right, proper tantrum. There's also a chatty old woman often seen in the corner carrying on a conversation with another unseen person. Some people have also told stories of being roused from their sleep by an old man with

bushy hair clad in a night shirt. And six, Sumner Place. This is less a specific house, and more the entire neighborhood that is haunted by the benevolent spirit of an older woman in a woolen black dress, with a shawl draped around her shoulders. The reports regarding her say that she was at one point a live-in nanny for a family that resided here, and she often tries to help the families in the neighborhood out by handling the domestic chores, such as washing the dishes or making the beds. The stories also say that she has a fondness for children,

and will often try to comfort ones that are in distress. A young boy once told his mother that the nice old lady would sit and read him bedtime stories when he couldn't sleep at night. These are just a few short examples of some of the ghostly going-ons at Fort Leavenworth. Visitors are more than welcome to come and explore the historic military post. The caveat being that any visitor over the ages 16 must have some kind of valid government ID, such as driver's license or state ID, and all vehicles are subject to a search before being granted entry onto the base.

So, if you're ever in Kansas, like I once was, and feel like exploring a very historically interesting and supernaturally charged place. Maybe stop by Fort Leavenworth and give all General Kuster the finger for Tom and his ancestors. Hi, Raven. I was in my late 20s a hairdresser and lived in the east of the Netherlands. I regularly cut the hair of a woman from my neighborhood at her home. Her husband was often at home, so I knew him a little bit at this point. When I was cutting her hair again, I told her that I was going to Amsterdam for a night that coming weekend.

The man overheard the conversation and said that he was also going to Amsterdam that weekend to meet a friend from college. When I was done and about to leave, I said to the man with the wink, Well, I'll see you this weekend then. He chuckled and that was that. That weekend, I went to Amsterdam with my boyfriend at the time, and when we arrived we wanted something to eat first. We didn't know Amsterdam that well, so we went into the first cafe we came across.

You know, Amsterdam is a big city, with many cafes, right? We walked to a table, and when we wanted to sit down there, I looked up toward the bar. And who was sitting there with his friend from college? Exactly, the husband of the woman whose hair I had cut that week. This was a very awkward moment, I can tell you that. Okay, this is something that happened to me just last week, and I'm still freaking out. I need to know if anyone else has experienced something similar.

I work for a local tech company in Colorado. Nothing exciting for you or me. I work at the corporate level of stuff, so it's actually pretty boring. My day-to-day work is pretty normal, and I rarely stray from my normal schedule. I even take the same route home because it's typically a straight shot on the highway. So, last Friday, I left the office around 6 p.m., same as always. I got on the entrance ramp for the highway and started my 40-minute drive home. I do tend to run into some slowdown on the highway, typically near other entry ramps, but nothing too crazy.

But on this day, there seemed to be more of a backup than normal. We were now at a crawl. I remember being annoyed and confused, as there were no signs for construction, so either people were having trouble understanding how to merge and speed up when entering a highway, or there was an accident. I couldn't do anything about it, so I just turned up my music a bit and tried to relax, knowing that I was heading into a weekend. But then I started smelling something awful, like burning rubber mixed with something chemical.

My first thought was that it just confirmed that there was probably an accident. As we inched forward slowly, barely moving 10 miles per hour, I finally saw the cause of the holdup. There was definitely an accident, but it was what I saw that was bizarre to me. The car was a dark gray, 2018-ish Honda Civic, which was the same make and model and color of my own car. There was even a small dent in the rear bumper and a Colorado avalanche sticker on the back window just like mine. But the front end was completely destroyed, like it had plowed directly into something at high speeds.

The hood was crumpled up, windshield shattered, and airbags deployed. This was a pretty bad accident, but there were no other cars on the side. The car looking identical to mine was crazy enough, but what really made me do a double-take, was the guy leaning against it. He looked just like me. Maybe not identical, but close enough that it was deeply unsettling. Same build, same haircut, short on sides, longer on top,

wearing what looked like the exact outfit that I had on, a navy blue buttoned down with black slacks, a company uniform, or at least, business casual. I was clearly doing what people normally do when they see an accident and slowed down even more to gawk at it, but my reason was completely different. It was like I was looking at myself in another dimension. And as I got closer, the guy made eye contact with me. He waved kind of casually at first, but then more urgently like he needed to get my attention.

I don't know why I did this, but I pulled over. This is not something I would normally do. I'm not the type to stop for strangers on the highway or side of the road. I always think about those horror stories of people who get carjacked that way or even worse, but something told me that I needed to be there at that moment. He jogged up to my car, and I rolled down the window. I asked him if he was okay, and he nodded saying that he was. His voice even sounded familiar.

It didn't sound like mine, but like someone I've known forever. It's hard to explain. Then I asked if he needed a roll. ride out of there. Again, I don't know why the hell I would have offered that. I don't ever offer rides to people. It was strange knowing that I just asked that, feeling compelled to, but also knowing that I shouldn't have. But the man's response was just as strange to me. He had this weird, subtle laugh and said, from you? No, man, I'm good. What did he mean by, from you? I didn't know this guy.

but maybe that's also why he didn't want to ride. So I asked him if he needed to call someone else, or if there was something I could do to help him out. I'll never forget his face when he looked at me with a pitiful smile and said, I just need you to stay awake, Kevin. That hit me like a bucket of ice water. My name is Kevin. I hadn't told him that.

It's not like I was wearing a name tag or something, so how did he know? I thought about this conversation and drove away, and as I thought about it more, I noticed just how tired I was feeling. Like, I was struggling to keep my eyes open, kind of tired. I started to not feel safe being on the highway that was now clear and told myself I needed to pull over, and then I woke up in my driveway.

It was dark. I looked at my phone, and it was 10 p.m. I have absolutely zero memory of driving home. None. I don't remember exiting the highway, stopping at the red light or swerving to get around the giant pothole at the intersection. It's all just a complete blank. I sat there trying to process what had happened.

Did I fall asleep at the wheel? If so, how did I get home safely? I've been on autopilot before, you know, when you take the same path and have to stop to think if you stopped at that stop sign, or not remember just part of your drive. I have experienced that, but I typically remember getting to my destination, or some part of the drive. But I can't remember anything other than that accident. Then my heart dropped, thinking maybe I did fall asleep.

Maybe that was my accident. And I was experiencing some kind of out-of-body thing. I jumped out of my car and looked around for damage, but the car was fine. It's still a little bump in the back, but otherwise it was in perfect shape. I immediately grabbed my phone to check for accidents and found nothing. After seeing my car and myself were physically fine, I went inside still feeling exhausted and decided to go to bed. The next day I checked the police reports and news again for accidents

and found nothing along the highway that I took. Did the accidents not happen either? And how? I remember stopping, talking to the guy, the smelling the fluids from the accident. Then there was what the guy told me, to stay awake. Was that a dream? A hallucination of some sort?

Or the universe's way of telling me to stay awake? I still have no idea. I've told a few friends and my sister about what I experienced, and they all think it's just as bizarre. Some have joked about me being lucky and driving home half asleep, while others, like my sister, think I should go to the doctor to make sure there's nothing wrong with me. I'm still debating on that one, but nothing else like that has happened since.

I've driven home all week, and there were no issues. I didn't wake up in my driveway. There were no other accidents, and I never felt that tired again. So what did I experience that day? Was this just a dream? Was that guy from some other timeline stopping me from being in the same fate or worse? I still have no answers, but I hope that it never happens again because not knowing what happened, having half an hour completely missing is one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced.

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 as the ravendreams.com, where you can check out pretty much everything about me, my social media platforms, fiction stories I've written if you want to read those, as well as submitting your own stories, which there's a big button on the front page, you click to do so. And those stories basically keep the podcast alive, to be honest with you. So, yeah.

All that said, friends, I do hope that I see you again here very soon. Until then, remember that you are loved, that you are valid, that you are important. You're the best you that you can be. Don't forget it. And until next time, much love and sleep well.