As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 198 - Crazy Friend Stories & Other Creepy Encounter Stories

Episode Date: October 27, 2025

Today, on the 198th 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 some Crazy Friend Stories & Other Let's Not Meet Style Encounters. Today's episode was partially written by Tom K, Find his other works here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DBVX81W7 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... Hidden Fox, Muddly, Carola, Clare Harraday, Jay, Gabriella, DaysWithJess&Ollie, Tom K As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. TimeStamps… Ad breaks after Story 1 & 3 1 ➤ 1:50 2 ➤ 24:07 3 ➤ 34:06 4 ➤ 51:28 5 ➤ 54:28 6 ➤ 56:52 7 ➤ 1:08:34 8 ➤ 1:22:36 ----- 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. Note: The podcast nor the host endorses any advertisements played during the podcast, ads are not chosen by ATRD or Raven Adams, they are chosen automatically by the advertisement systems by the platforms that host the podcast. I do not endorse, support, or promote any opinions or statements made in any adverts played during the show. #ScaryStories #UnexplainedMysteries #GlitchInTheMatrix Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Good evening, my friends. I hope you are doing fantastically so far this week. It's the beginning of the week, so if not, I apologize and hope the rest of the week goes well for you. It is the week of Halloween. So, what does that mean for you? I don't know. Do you have any plans? I think I asked that already in another episode, so let me ask a different question. Do you have any favorite Halloween memories you'd like to share? Please do consider doing so in the comments below if you so choose. No expectations.

Just something fun. If you're not on Spotify, you can't leave a comment, but just know that your Halloween experiences are also valid, and I appreciate them, even if you can't tell me about them. Anyway, today we have some creepy encounters, so like, let's not meet style stories, and some evil friends stories. We have another podcast episode coming up this week of new stories,

which is not common on this podcast. Usually it goes podcast, Dark Dreams, which is remastered older episodes, put into longer form, then Glitch Podcast, and then from there, it's either another podcast or other Dark Dreams episodes.

There's usually something in between, but this week I wanted to do something different, and this week later in the week on the 30th, I intend, will be Halloween and Trick-or-Treat stories, and they will be current stories. That would be like one of the few times is that the podcast and the YouTube channel are neck-in-neck with content, like the exact same time. So pretty cool.

Hopefully y'all are ready for that. Hopefully you'll have a great rest of your week, and I see you soon. Until then, much love and enjoy the scary stories. Just a heads up. This is going to be a long story. I wanted to tell you about an ex-friend of mine named Lexi. Lexi and I had been best friends since I moved to the school district that she was in. We met in sixth grade and became close friends ever since. We did everything together,

and stayed at each other's home all the time. Our parents even held a joint graduation party for the both of us, and we loved it. After high school, it just made sense that we should find a place together, too. Word of advice, do not get a place together with your friend. Living with someone is completely different, but I learned that the hard way. We found the perfect little two-bedroom apartment with reasonable rent, and I was genuinely excited to start this new chapter of our lives together. We sorted everything out, who got which room, Lexi wanted the smaller room because it had a large bay window in it,

and she wanted to turn it into a reading nook. This worked for me because the other room was slightly bigger, with its own attached half-bathroom. We had a similar taste for decorations and did everything in pastels, even found a vintage couch and dishes that matched our theme. The first few months were amazing. We made our own girls' night out together, where we would get ice cream and watch a movie or show together.

We had friends over for small get-togethers or parties, and we just generally lived that young adult life that I'd always imagined. Lexi was so much fun, just as she was in high school. She was spontaneous and easy to be around, and I felt so lucky to be living with my best friend, sharing the bills, expenses, and chores. It honestly made it all worth it. But as we settled into our routine and got more comfortable, I started noticing some of Lexi's habits that I hadn't been aware of before.

Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't perfect either. I know. I had my quirks, like leaving my craft stuff scattered on the coffee table, or sometimes I would forget to take the trash out on pickup day. I left about an hour before her, so I usually took it out, but Lexi had some behaviors that struck me as genuinely unusual. The first thing that I noticed was how she handled the dishes, or typically the lack thereof.

When she finished eating, she would just place the plate in the sink as is. The thing is, she rarely finished eating everything on her plate. But instead of putting what was left in a container or scraping it into the trash can, she would just put it all in the sink. We didn't even have a garbage disposal in the sink, so she would just toss the plate with whatever was on it, bones on the plate, crust from her pizza, the cereal and milk in her bowl, straight into the sink.

At first, I thought maybe she had just forgotten or was in a hurry, but it happened consistently. Every single meal. You would think you know how much you can eat and not get too much, but she always did and never finished it. So there was also that bit of wasting food that I didn't like either. I finally asked her about it, honestly just curious about it, and she just shrugged and said that's what she's always done. So I explained to her that since we didn't have a disposal, she has to scrape the food off into the trash first.

The first time she seemed to understand and agreed to stop doing that, which made me think, okay, problem solved, moving on. But that didn't happen. She didn't stop. She continued to do the same thing, unless I caught her walking in there, which I would tell her. to scrape it and she would.

Otherwise, to the sink it went, and it became a constant pain point of me saying scrape it, and she would say that she forgot and would get to it. But if I didn't, she never would. I know it's not good either, but I didn't do the dishes for two days

to see if she would, and she never did. The food sat there until I cleaned it up. Another strange habit was her approach to laundry. We had our own hookups in the apartments, and I would try to do laundry on several occasions, and she would have her clothes in there. No big deal. I just waited.

But then I would go and check it for a few days and see the same clothing items sitting on top of the washer bin and would have to remind her to change it out. She did this so often that the clothes would get that musty smell and would have to be rewashed taking even longer. I would eventually move her clothes to the dry. for her, but she got mad at me because something shrank and said that she hung it to dry. That was one of those talks we had to have, and I said that she then needed to set reminders

for herself to change it out or something, because I can't do my own laundry of hers is sitting in the washer. But again, she didn't change, and I didn't want her to get mad at me for moving her stuff, so I just started using the community one. I didn't want to do that, because I didn't want her to Because it meant that I would have to pay for it, but at least I knew I could get it done and have clean clothes. The third thing was her treatment of shared spaces. She would leave her stuff everywhere in the living room. Shoes were all over even though we had a decent sized shoe bench.

I would trip over them all the time. She would leave food wrappers on the couch or tables, and in the bathroom we shared with the shower. She would leave messes on the counter. If she spilled creams, makeup, or even toothpaste, she just left it. And I cleaned it up to not deal with it. I'm starting to think that telling her about it would do nothing anyways. We had a few arguments about these issues over the months, but we always made up afterward.

I tried to keep in mind that it could also be a difference in upbringings. We both lived at home prior, but maybe her parents cleaned up after her more than I realized. But then, Lexi's behavior started shifting in more concerning ways. She became increasingly disrespectful and inconsiderate, going beyond just annoying habits, and it was starting to feel deliberate. She started borrowing my things without asking, and never returning them or giving them back dirty or damaged. She took a sweater from my closet, and I later found it crumpled up on the

floor in the living room with a huge stain on it. My straightener actually went missing, and when I asked her about it, she said that she didn't recall ever using it. Then I went into her room, while she was home, so she was aware, looking for our glasses because we were almost out, and there were none in the sink or dishwasher. She hid glasses in her room all the time. That is when I found my straightener on her dresser, caked in what I think was candle wax. I ended up just buying a new one, not wanting to take the time to clean it all up.

But when I confronted her about it, she always acted like I was being unreasonable for caring about material things. It was less the items specifically and more her lack of care for someone else's stuff. But the final straw for me struck when I came home late one night, after pulling a double at work. We needed the extra hands. I wanted to save up some more money, and I wanted to save up some more money. it got me out of the apartment, so I figured, why not? So I came home around midnight, exhausted and ready for bed. As I entered the apartment, I heard the shower running, so I knew Lexi was already home.

I made my way to my room to just pass out for the night, but froze in place as I opened my door. There was a naked man in my bed, looking at his phone. I remember being so terrified. not having a clue who the hell he was. So I ran into the bathroom where I hoped it was Lexi taking a shower and locked the door. She poked her head out from behind the curtain confused, and I told her there was some guy in my bed. Of all the reactions that she could have had, she laughed,

and said that it was just some guy she brought home. So I asked why the hell he was in my room, and she said it was because my bed was bigger, and better for two people. I did have a queen bed, once again brought from my parents' house, and she had a full-sized bed, but that did not give her any reason nor permission

to use my bed to do God knows what. And that's what I told her. I was furious. I told her that she wasn't allowed to just go in my room and take or use my stuff without asking. But the thing was, she didn't even seem to understand what the big deal was. And she was confused and offended that I was so mad about it.

So, as she finished her shower, we had a bit of an argument about boundaries and how she was crossing them all. And I genuinely asked her what the hell was going on. If there was a reason she was acting this way, and she again seemed confused. I remember telling her that she had to be deliberate. being disrespectful to me, or she was seriously not understanding what exactly she was doing wrong, and I didn't know which one was easier to believe. After this guy left my room, I tore all my sheets and blankets off my bed and trying to clean my

mattress, until I ultimately just flipped it over. The next morning, after the guy was long gone, I tried to have a conversation with Lexi, a heart-to-heart to try and figure out what the hell was going on with her. But that did not go over well. She exploded, screaming that I was being a controlling bitch. And, well, she was practically throwing a tantrum. She started throwing things. She kicked over the floor lamp in the living room.

She even broke this vase my mom had given us as a housewarming gift. I just watched in horror as my friend transformed into someone I did not recognize, someone genuinely frightening. Even when she got into fights with her older brother, she was not like that. No, this was new. Not knowing what to do and to avoid getting something thrown at me, I just locked myself in my room until she calmed down. I called my older sister to talk to her about what had happened as I sat in my closet.

Yes, I turned the music on and literally sat in my closet and talked to her. I'd been telling her everything that was going on. my sister and I have always been really close. She offered to let me stay at her place until I got a new one if I wasn't planning on renewing the lease. All of this had taken place over several months, and we had about five months left on our lease. With how she was acting and treating me, I definitely did not want to renew with her, so I took the offer. I would tell the office that I was moving out, and Lexi that I wasn't renewing with her and get the hell out of there as soon as I could.

I did my best to keep the peace between us, while figuring out the best approach for the living situation. Lexi continued on with her inconsiderate behaviors, but she completely stopped helping with basic household chores at that point. If I didn't clean it, it didn't get done. And I didn't want to live like that, so I did it. Even if I did look like her personal maid, I just didn't touch her room. Finally, we were four months out, and we would have to tell the office what we were doing within 60 days of our lease being up.

So, I brought it up when I came home one night to the dishes in the sink. She was off that day, and she managed to use two plates, a bowl, and three cups. I remember this because I was so surprised by it. So I sat on the couch next to her and told her that I wasn't going to be renewing the lease with her. her. She once again acted like she had no idea why I wouldn't, like this was completely out of nowhere. I began to remind her of the way she was acting and what she was doing and, well, not doing. And she snapped again. She was screaming, calling me names, kicking and throwing stuff again, and I told her this was exactly why, and then locked myself in my bedroom again.

I waited for it to get quiet and late enough before I left my room again. It was late and I hadn't made dinner and I was hungry. After saying that she had broken several plates and left them in the sink, I just made myself a protein shake and went back to my room. But as I started drinking it, I noticed that it tasted funny. It had this strange bitter aftertaste that didn't make sense to me. It was a strawberry powder and I used. soy milk, so I couldn't understand why it tasted that way. The only thing I could think was

maybe I didn't clean my cup well enough, and there was a soap residue, so I dumped it and just went without. The next day I made another protein shake to take with me for lunch, at work, and used a different cup. When I went to drink it for lunch, I once again noticed that it tasted funny. I had just bought the soy milk, so I doubted it was bad. Not that it spoiled the same way as regular milk either, so I just couldn't explain it. And so I once again just dumped it and got something else for lunch. When I went home that night, I admittedly was not in the best mood, but it was worsened when I saw that it was still trashed after her tantrum the night before.

I didn't clean it up, and I refused to do so, so I left it. I started by picking up some of the things that were knocked over in the living room, and Lexi just complained that I was blocking the TV. so I told her that she needed to grow up and start helping out around here, saying that I refused to be her mother. I went to the kitchen to start cleaning out the broken ceramic in the sink when she followed me in there. She stopped in the entryway smiling and asking me in this weird way how my shake was, following it up with a giggle, like a kid who thinks they're being clever. I asked her what she meant by that and just gave me this unsettling smile and shrugged,

claiming there was no reason and that she was just curious. That's when I got suspicious. I remembered both of the shakes that I tried tasting funny, so I went to grab my soy milk from the fridge. I opened it up and was shocked to see not only did it have a slight green hue to it, but it also looked lumpy, like it was curdled. How was that even possible with soy milk? Not to mention I had just bought it that week so it wasn't expired.

So I got defensive and asked her what the hell she had done to my milk. She again had that stupid grin on her face and claimed that she had no idea what I was talking about. I remember her looking so pleased with herself too and it pissed me off. She was being childish at this point. Clearly she had done something to the milk and what? Was it supposed to be some harmless prank? A way to get back at me for being mean to her? or was whatever she put in there possibly dangerous?

At this point, I was concerned. I didn't know what she was capable of or just how far she was willing to go. I poured it all down the sink, and from that day forward, I didn't even eat at home unless it was either takeout or something I bought at the store that day and didn't take my eyes off of it. I even changed my doorknob to one with the lock to make sure that she didn't go in my room, whether I was home or not,

clearly not being able to trust her anymore. I started avoiding her at times that I could, going straight to my room when she was home. I would wash the dishes that I used and would keep them in my room so that she couldn't break them, and all the while her stuff piled up, and the place looked worse and worse. I didn't even bother trying to do laundry in our place.

I really had no reason to be there anymore, so after talking with my sister, I started moving all my stuff out at three months. I went down to the office and told them that I wasn't going to be renewing, but I didn't know what Lexi was going to do. They asked me about rent and the deposit, and I told them I would continue to pay rent until our lease for that year was up, and that I didn't care about the deposit. I just wanted to be done with the place. My sister didn't work. She stayed at home with my four-year-old niece and her husband worked, so I took a few days off of work myself to move some of my bigger items with her help while my mom watched my niece. I planned this specifically so that we could do this while Lexi was at work, so she wouldn't be in our way either. Most of the furniture was staying.

I was taking my bed in the swinging chair because my grandma had gotten that for me as well as the living room TV. because my mom specifically bought that for me. However, I didn't need a TV in my room, so we used it in the living room. Lexi had one in her room, so I figured that was fair that we both had one at the end of the day. Other than my personal belongings, that's all I was taking. Even the couch I went half in on I was leaving with her. Then we ran into problems. Lexi came home, and I still have no idea how she ended up home that way.

other than she took just half a day or something. At first it was awkward, as she didn't acknowledge my sister at all and just kept making these remarks under her breath every time she walked by me. But then as we started unplugging the TV and wrapping the cables up, Lexi snapped. She started screaming at us about how we couldn't take the TV because it was hers. I wasn't in the mood to deal with it, so I quickly corrected her and offered to show her the receipt. She stomped off into the kitchen. We got the TV into her van, then went back up to finish the smaller things in my room.

I was in my bedroom with my sister standing in the doorway when out of nowhere, I heard Lexi scream out, That's my TV! I looked behind my sister to see Lexi running toward us with a knife in her hand. I tried to get my sister out of the way, but I wasn't fast enough, and she drove that knife right into my sister's back. Everything slowed. My sister was screaming,

and Lexi was beating her on the back of the head. I managed to get in between them, bit Lexi on the hand to get her to let go of my sister's hair, and then pushed her out of the doorway. It got her back enough that I was able to close my door and lock it, while also trying to keep my sister calm. I didn't know that she had actually stabbed her until she turned around and saw that she was stabbed in her right shoulder blade. I had to grab a towel from my bathroom to wrap around her back for the moment.

Both of us were too afraid to pull the knife out. I sat against the door, being very thankful for the lock now as Lexi continued to bang against the door. My sister was on her phone calling for help. Those next few moments felt like an eternity waiting for them to show up. The rest of that day went by in a flash. We heard the sirens. We heard the police come in. Alexi was yelling at them that she would kill them too.

And then we heard the popping of the taser. Once we could no longer hear her screaming, they came to my door. My sister turned out okay. The knife went deep into the muscle, but managed to miss any main nerves and arteries. My sister, of course, pressed charges and rightfully so. And I just filed for a restraining order. I wanted nothing to do with her, and I never wanted to see her again. I told the police everything and how that wasn't who she used to be,

and I still have no idea what happened to her. I don't know if she was going through something and just refused to talk to me about it, or if maybe she was using something. Or maybe I just refused to believe that was just who she was as a person, to live with. And that was how she handled confrontation. I never did see Lexi again, which is good, I suppose, but I still don't know what led up to all of that. And I suppose I never will. But since then, I've lived by myself and I refuse to let anyone move in with me. No matter how well I claim to know someone,

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Hey, Raven. I hope you and patients are doing well, and I'm glad that the move is finally over. Same. I know I still have quite a few stories I promised to share, but this one actually happened recently and ended up being an entire situation that I couldn't help but share.

Because I was sure that someone was about to kill me. Trigger warning for anyone listening who doesn't like guns or threats of violence. As we all know, here and there, my wife and I will drive for delivery services, DoorDash for me, Spark for her, to make extra money to pay for the things we need. We recently had to do this when an unprecedented issue with my wife's transmission occurred, and we had to dip into our funding to take care of it. And fortunately, we were able to get it fixed.

We started taking turns driving delivery for our respective apps, And it's been going smoothly for about a week or two, and then this situation happened. I got a DoorDash order for a pizza delivery. Yeah, I always get a bunch of pizza deliveries and headed out around midday on a Monday. I did the usual stuff, showed up, verified, picked the food up and started on my way to the location. When I arrived, I noticed that it was a trailer park tucked away in a slightly wooded area, and the initial pin took me to the wrong house. So I called the customer who gave me a vague direction

and ended his statement in a country soaked, Now you better be careful out here, brother, and hung up. Yeah, his instructions didn't help at all. I ended up starting the GPS again on the DoorDash app, and it took me to a small one-lane road at the back of the trailer park, which apparently led to the RV side of the property deep inside. inside a wooded area. The road paving ended

and turned into a mess of roots, dips, and divots, and the surrounding vegetation was thick and dense, not to mention lined with trees. So there wasn't anywhere to turn around and go back. I had to press forward. I felt a little uneasy, as I always did whenever I had to travel somewhere off-road,

even though I spent a lot of my teen and young adult years learning to track, scout, and hike. Training, or not, the sensation that something feels off doesn't go away. And in fact, it gets stronger with experience. Anyways, back to the story. The road went about a mile into the trees, winding slowly to the right and left, and then I passed by what I could only describe as the remains of an old pickup truck that looked as if someone had set it on fire at one point, and the passenger's side door had several holes in it, which I immediately identified as bullet holes. As if that wasn't enough, up ahead of me was an old Ford-Crown Vic parked in the middle of the one-lane road. I rolled to a stop and called my wife, something that we

both do whenever we feel odd or uneasy about a situation, and she picked up just as a middle-aged man with the red bandana on his head walked from behind the car ahead of me, and stared at me intensely. He had brown hair with silver in it, and a full beard and mustache. He was wearing a dusty, torn black t-shirt, camouflage cargo pants, and a gun on his right hip.

He looked at me, and I looked at him, and began giving my wife descriptions of what I saw and telling her to call it in. The man started smiling, got into the Crown Vic, and I immediately began backing up the road in the most nope way that I could without seeming suspicious. But the man didn't waste any time pulling forward with his car and bringing it all the way up to the front bumper of mine. Now, driving backwards is a challenge in and of itself, and doing it on uneven terrain is even much more challenging. but I also had a long winding road to back travel, plus having this crazy man in front of me driving up against my car. He had his phone to his ear for a bit and then flipped it to landscape,

which I knew meant that he was filming me, and then he placed it on a holder in his car and began revving his engine as he jerked forward, insinuating he would hit me. I did my best backing up until I rounded one of the many turns, and the man rolled his car to my right and motioned for me to roll down my window firmly. I tried to use the DoorDash support to call 911 and report an issue with the delivery, only to find that the app had frozen and remained stuck on the GPS. My wife told me to call the police, and I began swiping my phone to do just that,

when the man yelled out that he was a police officer and to roll the window down before things got ugly. So, I did roll down my passenger side window, about halfway, and he leaned over to talk. You don't belong out here. The hell you doing out here? He demanded. I have a door-dash delivery, and this is where the GPS took me, I told him, trying to remain as calm as I could and hopefully diffuse the situation. The man just laughed at me and shook his head and said something about how dumb I was. and then his face became very serious. Boy, you don't belong out here.

This is our land and you can either get the hell out or we'll take you out. You got no business here and I ain't going to tell you again. The man demanded. I told him that I was trying to get out of the area and that him driving up on the car and filming me wasn't helping. And he just shook his head and basically dismissed me. Until I mentioned that I had a dash cam and the body cam I wear when I drive for DoorDash. and he told me that he was a police officer himself with the local department and that he got my picture,

got video of me trespassing, and that I tripped some alarm on his property border when I drove down the one-lane road. He also added that if he wanted to, he could arrest me or take me out for being on his property without permission. I told him there wasn't any point in threatening me in that I was already trying to leave, because I wasn't doing anything illegal in the first place. I mentioned there were no signs or markings for private property anywhere, and he referred to the battered truck I saw earlier and said that it should have been warning enough. Tell you what, turn around right here, get the hell on, and I better not ever see your stupid ass out this way again,

or I'm not going to give you the chance, he told me. He backed his car up a bit so that I could slowly turn around, and then he proceeded to follow me out of the one-lane road, and all the way back to the main area of the trailer park. There were a few people outside, and they all watched me as I drove through, and the, quote, officer behind me kept his car all the way up on my rear bumper, no doubt filming me.

As soon as I got near the front of the trailer park, he pulled around and stopped his car in front of me and got out. He motioned for me to roll down my window and asked me, again where I was supposed to be. I told him for the third time now that I was delivering a door-dash order, and the pin took me to the back of the property, which I now know is the wrong area. He asked me for the lot number, and then got on his phone and stepped away to call someone, and then came back.

All right, take this road, turn left by the pool. Customers going to meet you there to get their stuff, and then you've got about five minutes to get out of here after that. don't come back here and don't make a scene, he told me, and then he got in his car and drove off. I did as he said. I delivered the food, and then I left as fast as I could. On the way out of the trailer park, I did see something that I hadn't seen before, several pickup trucks were parked near the front gate with certain flags on them and pulled over to the left shoulder side of the entrance, was the officer in the Crown Vic.

I had to reset my phone to unfreeze the DoorDash app, and I did report the issue to DoorDash because everything that happened was due to an issue with their app. They transferred me to about four different people, and one of them mentioned that they heard I had some app issues. I told them in no uncertain terms that I almost died over a $4 order because the stupid app took me into hostile territory due to an incorrect pin. And the app froze when I tried to use the emergency features they bragged about having for drivers. Next time, please use the dash or support security option to ensure your safety.

The operator told me, and I literally yelled back. Next time, make sure it actually works in the first place. I got transferred to another operator, and they did create a case. They marked that location as unsafe for dashing, and sent me a bunch of materials for a formal report. So that's my story of how I almost died over a $4.4. DoorDash delivery. I want to begin this story with a warning.

This does mention depression and suicidal thoughts, so if that's not something you can listen to, I understand. But I want to warn others first. I wanted to share my story as a way to hopefully help others out of that dark mindset and also help them identify some warning signs that you might see in yourself or a friend. I wanted to share my story as a way to hopefully help others out of that dark mindset and also help them identify some warning signs that you might see in yourself or a friend. I will say that this was several years ago, and I'm doing a lot better,

and I don't have those same thoughts either. I have a therapist that I see regularly too, and she helps me on my worst days, but before then, I was not in a good place. I'd been struggling with depression for some time, but didn't know what to really do about it. I didn't have the best insurance, and it's not something we really talked about in my family.

It's not to say they didn't care. My mom meant a lot to me, and I knew that she did care, but it's just hard to explain unless you've been in that darkness. Anyway, I did my best, carrying on in life.

At the time of this event, I was in a relationship too, but it was already rocky. He was emotionally abusive and had cheated on me before, but I wasn't strong enough and didn't have enough self-worth to kick him to the curb.

So some days were really good, and others just made me want to hide in a corner alone. But my work was the one stable thing in my life, and I was good at it. I could go in, put in my earbuds, block out the rest of the world, and just dive into my assignments. And kept my mind busy, and I loved it.

But then we had a new hire named Chloe. She was hired as a junior associate, and since I had seniority in the department, I was asked to train her. From day one, she was incredibly charming. She was funny, bubbly, engaging, and seemed genuinely interested in getting to know everyone. I helped introduce her to the rest of the team, and she quickly seemed to click with everybody. She even asked thoughtful questions about our projects and seemed eager to learn.

Maybe she really liked this field, or maybe it was just the eagerness of starting a new job, but Either way, her positivity was a breath of fresh air for me and it reeled me in. We clicked immediately. She was fun to talk to and had this way of making me feel like the most important person in the room. We started getting lunch together, went out for drinks together, something I never did. We even went to the movies a few times. For the first time in years, I felt like I had a real friend. someone who actually wanted to spend time with me and helped me get out of my head.

What I didn't realize at the time was how vulnerable I was. She would ask probing questions about me in my life, about my relationship, my family, my past. I thought she was being a good friend and showing interest in my life. Instead, it was like she was gathering ammunition. The manipulation started subtly, and with my mindset, I didn't recognize it for what it was. She would make comments about my appearance,

like telling me I should wear more muted colors, claiming that they would make me look more mature and professional. She would take me shopping and help me pick out these long skirts and dresses that were plain cream, brown, or white. Before I knew it, I was wearing the clothes that she picked out for me, styled my hair the way she suggested. and even tried wearing subtle makeup. I wasn't a makeup person before,

but she had me wearing a nude lipstick and mascara, and to be honest, it did make me feel a little better. She even started inserting herself and her suggestions into my work. She had this way of building me up and tearing me down in the same conversation. She'd say things like, You have great ideas, but your presentation and lack of selling yourself hold you back. Then she'd convinced me to be more assertive at work, but it always seemed to benefit her projects. She would encourage me to challenge our boss on certain decisions and processes,

and then position herself as the reasonable alternative to make it work. I would get a reaction from my boss, typically one of surprise, maybe even impressed, so I thought that it was a good thing. But the worst part of her manipulation came when she exploited my husband. depression. She was one of the few people I felt like I could talk to about it. When I'd have bad days, she would listen sympathetically, but she would also subtly reinforce those negative thoughts. If I said I felt worthless, instead of challenging that and giving me reasons for the contrary, she would ask me what was making me feel that way, and just listen to me name off all the reasons,

not once stopping to disagree or give me a genuine comfort or perspective. She'd basically just validate my darkest thoughts about myself. She started isolating me from other coworkers too, but I didn't realize it at the time. She would make comments about how certain coworkers felt uncomfortable around me and mention how this person didn't acknowledge your contribution in the team meeting. It started to get me thinking that maybe I wasn't. as good as I thought I was at work. But while I was pulling back, Chloe would be getting more recognition for projects we worked on together,

and even provide feedback and ideas that I once told her about, telling me that she was speaking up for me. She was so supportive to my face that I had just convinced myself that she truly had my best interests at heart. Then there was the relationship with my boyfriend. I learned that he had been cheating again, or maybe still, and was just caught again. And we, of course, had a huge argument about it. He told me that it was my faults, and for once in my life, I took initiative and told him that I couldn't do this anymore. He packed up a few things he had at my place and left, saying some pretty hurtful last words to me. After he was gone, I called Chloe, so I wouldn't be alone.

and she was quick to come over. However, I was hoping to be comforted and to be helped to forget about my now-ex, but that's not what happened. She practically agreed with him, once again in a subtle way. She pointed out that I had been pretty stressed lately and probably distant, not to mention depressed and that that probably pushed him away. So, that night's already feeling pretty damn low. I confessed something to her that I hadn't told anyone. I told her that I considered ending my own life.

Nothing seemed worth fighting anymore. I expected what any friend would do, be shocked, tell me to seek help, and that there were plenty of reasons to live. Instead, she got quiet and asked me to tell her more about that feeling. What followed next was the most chilling conversation. of my life. But the scariest part was that I didn't recognize it at the time.

Chloe never tried to talk me out of these thoughts. Instead, she helped me to explore them. She asked me some probing questions, but I'll not put them here. I don't want anyone who has similar thoughts to even consider them, but just know that they were not questions you ask someone who's in a dark place like I was. So she asked those questions. She even made me make a list of pros and cons of continuing to live. She would nod sympathetically as I listed all the reasons people would be better off without me.

But when I struggled to find items for the reasons to live, she would just sit quietly, never once giving me any reason. Not a single one. Over the next few weeks, these conversations became regular occurrences. Chloe would check in on me daily, always steering our talks back to my darkest thoughts. But what I wasn't expecting was her to start helping me plan it. She would send me links about different methods and discuss them with me. She even made a comment about making sure it works the first time.

You can see where this is all going, and what she meant by that. So that's what happened. She tried to help me plan everything. She even offered to take care of some of my affairs after I was gone. The night that I planned to go through with it, I texted her one final time, letting her know what I was doing. I texted a few other people like my mom and my sister that I loved them, and while they all responded with the same thing, asking if I was okay,

Chloe responded with the hug emoji and said that I was so brave. I won't tell you what I had planned, but I was sitting on the bathroom floor with the door closed, crying, when out of nowhere I saw a paw under the door. My cat, Ollie, was pawing at the gap under the door, making this very specific little mew he does when something is wrong. It's the same sound he makes when he finds a bug or when I'm crying or yelling because of a fight with my ex. Something told me to let him in, and I did. When I did, he immediately jumped onto my lap, purring intensely and refused to leave.

I tried to let him stay and keep the door open, but... He would not leave my lap and was constantly nuzzling my chin and hands. And, in that moment, sitting on my bathroom floor, something shifted in me. I've had Ollie since I was young. He was my first and only pet that I got on my own, and he'd always been with me. I couldn't imagine leaving him with anyone else. No one knows your pets and their personalities like you do, so. I broke down again in a completely different way, telling myself that I had to get better for both of us.

I took a shower after that, and I texted my mom asking her to take care of Ali for me. I didn't have the heart to tell her what was going on, so I left a note telling her where I was going, and I went to the hospital. For the next few weeks, I had no contact with the outside world. My mom had to come pick up my car and belongings, like my phone, and I just went through the motions of therapy, medication adjustments, and testing to see what worked best for me. And slowly we went through the process of rebuilding my will to live. When I finally was released, my mom picked me up and she hugged me tighter than she had in a while. She took me home, and Ollie and I smothered each other in love for a few moments, both of us happy to be together. again. That is when my mom and I had a long and very serious conversation. She apologized and explained how

she had no idea how bad it was for me and wished that I had told her sooner. She explained that I was never a burden to them, and that she and my sister both felt just as guilty that they weren't there for me. But she also admitted to going through my phone trying to get the information for my work to let them know. That's when she saw my conversations with Chloe and asked about her. That's when my eyes really opened to what she was doing. My mom said that the things that she said to me were very manipulative and dangerous.

And she made me promise that I would not associate with her anymore. And with how much clearer I was thinking and seeing, I understood and she was absolutely right. What kind of person calls you a friend but then tries to help you end your own life. When it came time for me to return to work, I spoke with my therapist on ways to stay in a healthy mindset since I would be working with Chloe,

and I held on to that. I went into work and was once again surprised with how incredibly supportive and relieved my boss and co-workers were with me being there and being okay. I had a long talk with my boss, and he explained how he thought something was wrong because of all the great ideas I would come up with at work, but would then push them off or suggest Chloe to do them.

He fully expected me to take charge of these projects, but was concerned when she was always involved. And, at the time, I once again didn't see this as someone stealing my work in recognition. I spoke to a co-worker that I was close to, and she explained how Chloe had come in the next day and told everyone that I was dead. which confused my boss because my mom had also contacted him that same morning about me being in the hospital and didn't know what happened.

I don't know if he told my mom or not, but maybe that's what prompted her to look through my conversations with her. I was feeling the love from every direction, and it really helped lift me up that much more. I was feeling good. I was feeling confident, but I was still the person I was and part of me said that I should. should at least let Chloe know that I was alive and that I was better. I think that was the part of me that craved that loyalty and that connection. I went to her little office and saw her busy staring at her computer. I knocked on the door and she just looked up at me and said, Oh, hi.

I stood by the door and told her that I just wanted to let her know that I was doing better and was about to thank her for being there for me, even though I know she really wasn't and she just gave a thin smile, and said, Okay. It was the only weird interaction I had gotten since I got back, and I was confused. I thought that maybe she might be happy to see me again,

so I pride. I asked her if there was something wrong, and she quite bluntly said, I thought you promised you were going to do it. I spent all that time helping you plan it, listen to you bitch and complain, and then you just didn't. I was in complete.

shock. She was upset because I didn't follow through with my plans that night. Who says that to someone? Someone you claim to be your friend. But that's when I truly realized that my mom and my therapist were right. She was toxic. She was dangerous and dare I even say she was evil. She didn't care about me at all.

I don't know what her end results were. Like, did she just want my parents? position, or just the power of knowing that she helps someone do something like that. So, I avoided her completely after that. I continued to shine at work, not speaking to her or sharing any of my ideas with her. My relationship with my mom grew so much stronger, and my toxic outings with Chloe turned into loving, thoughtful lunches with people that really mattered to me, and vice versa. I got out of that dark place, and I do think that my cat Olly had a lot to do with that.

After a few months, Chloe actually quit. More so, she raided and stole a bunch of supplies from all of our cabinets. No call no-showed for about a week, so we just assumed that she was gone, and I couldn't have been happier for that. I'm incredibly thankful that I got a second chance, and because I have a clearer head, I can better recognize these toxic and manipulative traits. It was hard at first, but it is something you can get through. So, if anyone ever tells you that it's not worth it, or tries to help you end it,

please, don't listen to them. It'll always be worth it. I promise, and Ollie promises. This happened to me at work one night. The lobby closed. closes at 10 p.m. and I was cleaning and getting ready for closing duties. You know, cleaning the prep table, cleaning the counterline, dishes, that kind of stuff. I look over at the front counter and see this man with the blanket around him, still in his hospital gown. The thing with

hospital gowns is you can't leave with them, meaning he walked out. I very cautiously walked up to the front counter, how can I help you? I asked, doing my best to not seem weirded out. He whispered and stuttered, and I couldn't hear him well, but I know that he asked if we had any food that we could give him. Me being confused asked another manager to take care of him. The other manager gave him a nacho fry for free and he sat in the lobby eating and writing. He gave her a note with his name saying that, She was, and, I quote, the best faux show, faux shizzle. Seems kind of cute, right?

Well, a few hours later, as we were closing, he was outside just sitting by our front door smoking a cigarette. Thirty minutes before we closed, he was apparently walking around the building and talking to the customers that were pulling in. Once we closed, we locked the window and he came up to the door. and he came up to the window and then asked for a drink. So we gave him a Baja blast. Then he went back to the front door. He then came back around to the window and started to bang on said window, and we asked what he wanted,

and he replied saying that he wanted a job. You don't ask for a job at 1.30 in the morning, after the business is closed. He then started laughing. I looked around at my other car, co-workers, the guy's on shift, gone, hiding, not doing Jack squat. Me and my two other girl co-workers were the only ones talking to this dude. I went back to the office and called the non-emergency line because, what the actual hell.

The police got there and talked to him. They asked us if we just wanted him to leave, to which I said yes. The officer said that he was just looking for a job, laughed, and, walked away. The next day, one of my co-workers saw him wandering around a gas station talking to a police officer, and he got escorted away. I do wonder if he's doing okay, but yeah, to the man that was laughing at us at the drive-thru, let's not meet again.

So, in September of 2014, my best friend Lorry was given tickets to see the Black Keys at Barclay Center in Brooklyn. She invited me to come with her, which, of course, I jumped on. Free Black Keys show, count me in. But on the way to the venue, we experienced an incident that kind of set the tone for the rest of the night. Lori and I were on the subway in a two-seat booth facing the back, minding our own business, and cracking each other up over nothing, as usual. Suddenly, a very tall, seemingly very drugged-out man,

pops out in front of us from nowhere and gets in our faces. Why are you laughing at me? You lesbians? I'll laugh and kill you. He was so close and yelling so loud that his spit hit my face. We just stared at him, stunned, and stood up from our seats to be in a less vulnerable position. The next stop, which was not ours, was approaching and we silently made an agreement to run off then. We both remember specifically looking down the rest of the train and just being stared at, mouths wide open by the other train passengers.

Many able-bodied men who didn't even pretend to come to our aid. We got off the train and had to wait for another one, which ended up making us late for the show. We were pretty shaken up. Then when we got to Barclay Center, we quickly learned why she had been gifted these tickets. We were in the actual last possible row of the nosebleeds. We were talking rafter views. Dan and Patrick looked like ants. Standing up, it was so steep that you'd best to keep your balance or fall faced first

into the sea of everyone else in attendance below. Getting a drink or bathroom break was like risking your life. So, yeah, that whole evening went downhill pretty fast. But we reminisce and shared the story all the things. time, which is pretty hilarious now, years later. What are friends? People that we trust. People we let our guard down around and try to just enjoy being ourselves with.

People we have so much in common with that we often feel like kindred spirits or even sometimes like long-loss siblings or relatives. It's a powerful connection to be sure. even intimate in its own way. For most people, when we are with our friends, our trusted inner circle, if you will, we feel completely safe. Knowing that, should the worst happen, they would have our back, and you theirs. At least that's how it should be, and even is, for most of us.

It's not always the case, though. Sometimes within our closest and most trusted friends, There lurks something dark, something festering just beneath the surface that we don't see until it's far too late. Such as, tragically, in the case of Peyton, Isabel Lutner. This was back in the summer of 2014. For Peyton, the events of one May Day would change absolutely everything. Having gone to her best friend Morgan Geyser's birthday slash slumber party, the 12-year-old was enjoying quality time with their longtime friend,

and another mutual friend, Anissa Weir. Things would take an incredibly sinister turn that day after the sleepover, when under the guise of playing hide-and-seek, Morgan and Anissa lured Peyton first to a nearby park, and from there into the woods. Peyton could not have had any idea what was about to transpire, or that her best friends were about to commit a betrayal so foul that it would make anyone hearing the story begin to doubt possible motives of their own friends.

You see, Morgan and Anissa had been planning something terrible. And this, the day after Morgan's 12th birthday, was the day they were going to enact it. After convincing Peyton to lie down and covering her with leaves and sticks, Anissa handed Morgan a knife and told her, Do it now. Go ballistic. Go crazy. Make sure she's down. Words Peyton still remembers hearing. And then her friend Morgan said,

Don't be afraid, I'm only a little kitty cat. Then she pounced on Peyton and began stabbing her repeatedly. As Peyton lay there on the ground bleeding out, she managed to say, I trusted you. Anissa and Morgan then told Peyton that if she just laid there, then she would lose blood slower, so she should just lay there while they went to fetch some help for her, at which point the two conspirators fled,

leaving Peyton to die alone in the forest. Eventually, Peyton was able to pull herself to her feet with the aid of some nearby trees, she then began to painfully make her way back towards the park that they had come from, which is incredibly brave, and it tells you just how much strength there was in that 12-year-old girl that had just been betrayed in the most profound way possible by at least one person whom she genuinely trusted and cared for. I phrase it that way because while Peyton did consider Morgan as her best friend, She didn't really like Anissa, and she didn't really feel like she was ever her friend,

saying that Anissa was always cruel to her. She also said that she felt very much like Anissa was jealous of her relationship with Morgan, maybe because they had already been friends for years by the time Anissa met them and joined their group. As Peyton trudged her way through the woods, desperately trying to find someone to help her, a cyclist found her and called EMTs. All told, Peyton had been stabbed 19 times. One of the wounds missed a major artery of her heart by a millimeter. Another went through her diaphragm and punctured her liver and stomach.

It took six hours of operations to save her, with the surgeon saying, if the knife had gone the width of a human hair further, she would not have lived. During a 2019 interview, Peyton has said that she suffers lingering trauma, understandably so, from the attack, and that she sleeps with a pair of broken scissors and fear of ever being attacked again. But it gets darker.

This is where we really start getting into the truly terrifying part of this case. The attack, while horrific, is less terrifying than the actual motive behind it. I think it goes without saying that, All of us here have a love of horror and the creepy, both real and fictional. But when you take young people, be they male or female, let's just be clear, that feel outcast and marginalized, coupled with a hidden and untreated mental illness, it's a recipe for disaster. Morgan Geyser is, unfortunately, an embodiment of what can happen

and what a person can become when these elements combine. Young Morgan was always an outsider, from her earliest days in school. Peyton initially became friends with her because she felt bad, seeing that Morgan had no other friends at all. That's how their bond was formed, and the two became best friends. But Morgan was a girl with secrets. And once Anissa came along, another troubled young girl with social and mental health issues, the pair fell into what can only be called a shared, delusion.

Morgan suffered from early onset schizophrenia and had fallen into a delusion that fictional characters were in fact her friends. In her state she was convinced that she knew these characters and had a personal relationship with them. One of these characters

included the creepypasta character known as Slender Man, or Slender, as the girls referred to him. Anissa was just as caught up in this fantasy as Morgan was, and the pair kind of fueled each other's delusional state and continually escalated each other's unstable mental state. The entire fantasy they built became an oroboros,

with each girl's instability feeding the other. It was bound to become a calamity for someone, and unfortunately that person ended up being Peyton. Along the way, they became convinced that Slenderman had told them that the only way to keep themselves and their family safe was to kill someone for him, to prove they were worthy. Their plan, thus, became to kill Peyton, and prove that Slenderman was real. Five hours after the attack on Peyton, the pair were apprehended by police on I-94.

The pair claimed they were on their way to meet Slenderman in his home called Slender Mansion, International Forest over 200 miles from where they were captured. During the first interviews, which were conducted with no counsel or guardian present, Morgan seemed to have absolutely no empathy, while Anissa did seem to show some guilt for what had been done. However, they were both resolutely convinced that the killing had to take place in order to appease Slenderman. During psychiatric evaluations, Morgan, admitted to having hallucinations beginning in early childhood and was later diagnosed with early

onset schizophrenia. Her mother even corroborated much of what Morgan told them, saying that Morgan often would be conversing with unseen people, behaved like a cat, claimed to see unicorns, among other things. She believed that she had relationships with Voldemort and Severus Snape, and even claims to have conversed with one of the teenage mutant ninja turrets. She believed, she into turtles. Morgan was admitted to a mental health facility initially to determine if she was competent to stand trial. During that time, she was medicated and eventually returned to the county jail to

await her trial. However, her mental health continued to deteriorate, and during her trial, she was committed to the facility that had previously treated her. Morgan was charged with attempted first-degree murder, and Anissa attempted second-degree homicide, a Class A and Class B felony respectively. In 2017, Anissa pleaded guilty but was later found not guilty by reasons of insanity or mental defect by the jury. Morgan followed suit, pleading guilty and then being found not guilty by the jury after they

learned for schizophrenia diagnosis. That's not to say that they did not receive punishment. Anissa was sentenced to 25 years to life. Three of which were to be served in confinement and involuntary treatment at a state forensic psychiatric institute, followed by communal supervisions until she's 37 years old. In an update, she was released in 2021 under 24-7 monitoring via ankle bracelet, and has to ask permission to leave Waukesha County. Morgan has also been seeking an early release, citing tremendous improvements in her mental health.

As of this writing, there do seem to be things in place for her to be released into a communal home, where she's supposed to be until 2056, likely under similar conditions of a monitoring by an ankle bracelet. However, I can't say that for certain. There are other things around Morgan and some of her recent moves to try and secure an early release, but I feel those are her business and don't really have much bearing on what happened in 2014. The information's out there for those who are curious or want to look into this case for themselves. As for Peyton,

she still bears the scars of that day, both physical and non-physical. She said that she's tried not to think about the physical scars too much, and when asked what she would say to Morgan if she ever saw her again, Peyton's answer was, I'd thank her. The reason being that, in the wake of that terrible attack, Patent herself has been inspired to go into a career in medicine. All told, this entire case is just very, very terrifying.

To think someone that your best friend one day is luring you into the woods the next day, attacking you and then leaving you for dead, what a truly horrifying world we live in sometimes. But, also, sometimes in the deepest, darkness burns the brightest little lights. This happened over 20 years ago, and I'm happy to say that I've become smarter and more sensible with age, but back then in my early 20s, I have to admit that I was rather naive. Also, trigger warnings for S.H.

So not sure you'll even want to read this one on the air, but I'll submit it for me. I've never written this down before, so I think it can be a healing experience for myself. I'm a female, and I went to uni for electronics engineering, a heavily male-dominated field, as you can imagine, especially back then. I was the only woman among about 100 first-year students. This happened when I was working on my thesis dissertation, and I also worked part-time as a support engineer for a computer brand. Communication back then happened a lot via email. One day I received an email from an unknown address, something like Person 1 at AOL.com.

Obviously not that address, but just to give you an idea, a generic email address. In the email, they said, and I'm paraphrasing as I didn't keep it, I'm writing because I saw your ad that you offer your services as an escort and wanted to know what your rate would be to go on a weekend trip with me. To say that I was livid is an understatement. I was scared and for some reason ashamed. I couldn't even figure out if this was someone pretending to have seen an ad just to mess with me,

or maybe someone had actually created an ad pretending to be me. As I write this, I can feel myself about to disassociate, so I'm having to take breaks. I hope it doesn't take me ages to finish. To be honest, I don't remember if I replied or not, but the next day I got another message from the same account, saying something like, I saw you walking down X Street. I like how you looked in that blue shirt, or something to that effect. Now, that was super scary. To know that unbeknownst to me, I was being watched.

I felt so vulnerable. At the time I lived with the male roommate, but we barely ever saw each other. We used to joke that it was the best of both worlds since the cost was cheaper than living alone, but the experience was like having your own place. But in the back of my mind, it made me feel a little safer knowing that my friend was in the next room. I kept receiving a couple more emails, and I must have replied. But I don't remember if I did. What I do remember is that I know that this had to be someone that I knew.

Not a complete stranger. It felt personal. I don't know why, but I had the thoughts to try to hack the account to see who this was. To see if I could find more information about the owner of this email address. Now, I'm not a hacker, but I started trying to log into the email account the old-fashioned way. And for the password? again, I don't know why, I started using variations of my own name. Hence, it actually worked.

I must have tried more than ten different versions, as I imagine at some point it should have blocked it for safety, right? But I got in. It was surreal that it worked, to the point that I questioned if I had multiple personalities and was doing this to myself, but why? And I had no history of mental illness, or anything like that.

But on the other hand, how could I have guessed the password? And it was a variation of my name. Anyway, there was no relevant information that gave me any clues about who this stalker could have been. The account was very new. And besides sending me those emails, it had only been used to sign up for porn sites. And so I changed the password so the person couldn't use it again to harass me and tried to move on. But I was still worried that there was potentially an ad out there where, quote, I was offering escort services, or something like that.

And to make it worse, I couldn't completely discount the scenario where this was me doing it in some sort of disassociative episode. Now, to understand what had really happened and how I was able to figure this out, we need to go back a few months. About six months before I'd been looking for a topic to make my dissertation on, one day I ran into a guy that had studied the same as me, but he was two years ahead. He was already working at one of the major telecommunication companies here in my country and was also a professor teaching electronics in another university. So he proposed a topic that I could develop for my dissertation, and that I would be paid for, and he also offered that I come give a talk to his students,

also a paid gig. It was a great opportunity, and I trust him because we both had been active participants in the student branch of our professional association. Keep in mind, this happened back in the mid-90s, so meetings and lectures were in person back then. We set a date for my lecture to the students, and we were going to be going to. to have a meeting to discuss the dissertation project after that. This was going to happen in the town where I lived. I was going to take the bus to get there. He was going to pick me up.

And because by the time we would finish it, it would have been too late to take the bus back to my town. I was, or so I thought, going to spend the night in his guest room in his house, where he lived with his wife and Labrador Puppy. The day of, he picked me up at the bus station and we drove to the university where I gave my lecture. Then I assumed that we would drive to his house, where I would meet his wife and we would have our meeting, and then spend the night.

Right? Well, he had other plans. We got in his truck and he told me that he had booked a cabin for me so I would be more comfortable. I don't know if I was too naive or if I trusted him too much, but I didn't see it as a red flag as I should have. We got there and he ordered something to eat so we could have our meeting while we ate. He was not very eager to jump into the technical aspects of the meeting, and I was tired and wanted to get it done so that I could go to bed. He half asked the answers to all my technical questions and kept dragging it.

I still hadn't put two and two together, so I jokingly said, it's getting late. Your wife's not going to be happy that you're out so late. going to make you sleep with the pup. That's when I realized he never had the intention to leave. It was a lodge in the countryside, and there was no phone signal. I tried not to freak out and was constantly telling myself that this was normal, and to not make it a big deal.

This is what trauma does to you. You learn not to trust your own gut. The cabin had two twin beds, so at least we were not going to have to show. share a bed. But as much as I knew this guy and up until that day had trusted him, as much as you can trust who you think is a normal person, I was not comfortable having to share a room. The cabins in this lodge were very far apart. It was already close to midnight, and I didn't have a working phone. So I went into survival mode, and I guess what people call fawning now, which is when you try to befriend and appease the person perceived as a threat.

So I went to the bathroom, put my PJs on, and got in bed. He went after, and I heard him take a shower. I wasn't liking it, but I tried to reassure myself that some people like to do that, even if the context, it definitely felt inappropriate. I pulled the blankets up as far as I could, and he came out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist. I feel so bad for that version of me now typing this up. If this happened today, I would be so much more assertive,

and this would not have gone this far. He sat next to where my feet were, and put his hand underneath the blankets and started rubbing my feet. I froze. He did it while he was talking normally. I don't remember what about, but it was weird to have to have. have like two completely different interactions going on at the same time. I don't know how to explain it.

I was able to snap out of that frozen state, and I told him to stop, that I wasn't comfortable, and he tried to insist that I needed to relax. But I stayed firm, and said that I just wanted to sleep and get up early so he could drive me to the bus station first thing in the morning. He turned off the lights, and then got into the other bed. bed. I didn't look. I didn't want to sleep, and I set the intention to stay awake throughout the night. But I was taking some medications that made me sleepy and had taken it before I realized his intentions, during dinner. I fought it as long as I could, but at some point I must have fallen

asleep. All I know is that in the middle of the night, I must have felt something weird on my back while laying on my side. It woke me up, and as I rolled back, I saw a figure crawling away. I faked that I was still asleep, but waited until the first rays of the sun came out. I got up, got dressed in the bathroom, and waited outside by his truck. I barely spoke to him until he dropped me off at the station, where I got in the bus and never spoke to him again, or so I thought. I didn't tell anyone about it. about it. I guess I was traumatized. You can make the point that nothing really happened and that it could have been so much worse, but still, I felt so stupid and ashamed. But back to the emails.

I shared about them with my boyfriend and a friend. I couldn't think of who would do such a thing to me until I remembered, you know, the cabin guy. But as messed up as the whole ordeal was, I couldn't imagine him a normal guy with a job, a wife, and a dog wasting time harassing me. And for what? But it was the only lead I had. So I went into detective mode. Because if the alternative was that I had somehow a split personality that was tormenting me, I would just rather him be the creep.

Remember I mentioned that he worked for a telecommunications company? I compared the IP addresses that the email he had sent me from his work email and went through the ones that the harassing emails went through. And they matched. I knew that those emails had been sent from the employee network of that company. He was the only person I knew that worked there. With this, I went to the police with very little expectations of what would come of it. I told them everything, and that I didn't have proof, but that I highly suspect that.

this person to be the one harassing me. About a week later, I found a card had been slipped under my door by the police, saying that they wanted to talk to me. They'd come while I was at work, so I was planning to go as soon as I could within a few days. But, a couple of days later, I came home to find a letter from the creepo himself had been slipped under my door. I was livid, because I didn't remember him knowing where I lived. I didn't want to think what would have happened had I been there and opened the door.

Turns out, the police had actually given him my address. I was beyond angry, and in the letter, he admitted to everything, saying that it was all a prank, that I'd blown things out of proportion. And get this, that I was ruining his marriage. I guess he had some explaining to. to do when the police came to his house looking for him. At this point, a friend of mine who was a lawyer helped me get a restraining order. He got the creep to pay the fees, as I didn't have the means to pay him at the time.

A part of me wanted revenge and for everyone to know what kind of creep this guy was, but I also had too much shame to make it more public. It's taken time and therapy to heal from it. I'm glad I wasn't crazy, but I wish this never was. happened. Things have changed a lot for women in the past couple decades, but this type of things still happens, especially in male-dominated fields. I hope we get better at supporting girls and women, and give them a space to speak up and be believed. And to this guy, I hope our paths never cross again. So, in this story, a few weeks ago, I was being. I was being a bit of a lot of

biking around downtown in the city that I live in and decided to explore, because it seemed like I'd found a park that was new to me. When I arrived, I saw that I was alone, when this strange guy called me over, and I walked over to see what he wanted, and he said, I know, you know what I want you to do. I instantly got this, like, weird feeling in my gut and instantly left on my bike feeling creeped out and anxious as hell now i'm not going to lie i instantly started having weird thoughts what would have happened had i stayed behind because i don't know if he was alone because he was just standing there there were concrete steps and i couldn't see on the other side behind him so one of the thoughts i was having was that i could have been jumped the other thought that i had was that i had was that

I could have been assaulted. I'm just glad that I listened to my gut and left, though. 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. 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.