As The Raven Dreams Podcast - ATRD Ep. 199 - NEW Scary Halloween & Trick Or Treat Stories

Episode Date: October 31, 2025

Today, on the 199th episode of the As The Raven Dreams podcast, we have 7 True Chilling stories. These stories come from the shadowy corners of reality, where everyday life takes an eerie twist & ordinary people experience the extraordinary. Today we will be diving into Horror Stories from the Halloween season! 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 on 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... Chris, Kris F., HauntedHouseEmployee, Shannon P., OnlyTreatsPlease, Tom K, Jeremy J. As Well As Any Author That Has Requested Anonymity. TimeStamps… Ad breaks after Story 2 1 ➤ 1:23 2 ➤ 15:38 3 ➤ 24:15 4 ➤ 41:39 5 ➤ 45:15 6 ➤ 57:32 7 ➤ 1:11:30 ----- 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 #Halloween2025 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Hello, good afternoon and happy Halloween, my friends. Today is the day of Halloween. I don't know

I was going to say there. It is the end of October, which is crazy. I don't know how that's possible, but it is. And, yeah, just, it's Halloween, so there's that. Hopefully, you all have had a fantastic year so far, or at least the best year you possibly can have. Today's episode is a mix of this year's Halloween and trick-or-treat stories. These are not previously used.

These are all new stories, and yeah, unlike the previous episode, which was a compilation, I was informed apparently story 5 and 7 in the compilation were the same story, and for that I do apologize. Mistakes do happen. I thought I had them all lined up properly, and apparently I accidentally copied one. I don't know how I did that, but, you know, it happens. I make mistakes. Anyways, hopefully you guys enjoy today's scary stories, Halloween and Trick-Treat stories.

They're good stuff, so. Anyways, friends, happy Halloween. Happy, I guess, November. It's coming very quickly. And I'll see you again here soon. But until then, enjoy. Back in 2017, my friend Matt was throwing a Halloween party at his childhood home. His parents decided they wanted to retire somewhere warmer,

and instead of selling it to a stranger, he convinced them to let him buy it. I thought it was pretty dope because his dad had renovated the entire basement a few years back to make it into a pretty chill spot. I wouldn't call it a man cave because they both enjoyed time down there. He put in a projector, had a small bar and fridge down there,

and a fully redone basement. There were some places around the entire home that could use some fixing up, but most of it was cosmetics. It was a pretty solid house. So to celebrate his first holiday in his place, he threw this party. We were both in university,

still, but he had also been working full-time at the same place he interned at. This guy had it made, and I was proud of him for that, but I also knew that it was a lot of work, and he lost a lot of sleep, but he was doing better overall. So, with any good Halloween party, he suggested costumes, because he wanted to have a contest. I believe he had a couple different categories. creepyest, most clever, and one for best duo costume. My girlfriend and I went as Shaggy and Scooby-Doo. Nothing too crazy, but we thought we would have some fun with it.

She was Shaggy, by the way. Her voice impressions pretty spot on. I helped Matt set up some of the decorations and supplies, so we got there a little earlier. He had a whole row of card tables lining the wall in the kitchen. Everyone was told to bring something, so it would be filled out pretty quickly. He had a cool setup out front with some simple decorations. He even had a candy bowl at the edge of the driveway with the skeletons sitting in a chair next to it for trick-or-treaters.

That way he didn't have to worry about kids coming into the yard and possibly getting trampled by a drunk person. It was a pretty good-looking party that he had set up, and it was about to be a good time. The house filled up pretty quickly, with people from our school, some from his work, a few longtime friends and so forth. People were having a good time, some were making up some yard games as they went along, and it was all entertaining. Then I spotted a couple that entered through the back door and were simply looking over all the food and drinks. They were dressed as Joker and Harlequin, and not even the good. kind. They were dressed like the ones from that one suicide

squad movie. She even had a bat on her that I thought was a prop or something at first, like maybe one of those foam ones or something. But then I noticed the way she tapped it against her shoe and when she put it on her shoulder. It clearly had some heft to it. Like, it was

real. Odd choice, but hey, I thought they were just really getting into the character. I didn't recognize Joker, but Harley I did recognize. I'd seen her in the halls at our university. I was able to recognize her by her gauged ears. We didn't have any classes together, so I assumed that she was just in a different field than me.

No big deal. My girlfriend didn't recognize her either, but she also didn't go to the same school as us. I met her through a mutual friend at work. I don't remember her name, though, so I'm just going to continue referring. to her as Harley. When I did see her around campus, she seemed pretty quiet. She kept her hair pulled back, glasses that I only saw her wearing when she was in class. She did her work and then left.

Sometimes I would see her chatting in between, around the halls or something to other people, but really that was about it. She just seemed like a normal person. Other than seeing the stark difference in the way she would normally dress, I paid no attention to her and went about my time. Clearly, she knew Matt or maybe someone else there. So when I ran into Matt, I asked him about Joker and where he knew him from, and he shrugged. He did say that he knew Harley, however, and that she was his old roommate's girlfriend.

Apparently, they had broken up amicably. Now, while I don't know them personally, Matt's, or his old roommate at least, knew Harley, so I did assume what he was saying was the truth. But Matt also explained that the party was pretty open for anyone, so long as no one started anything. That went for Harley, Joker, the roommate Sean, or really anyone for that matter. Then they were all welcome.

Again, I had no reason to be concerned with any of it, so that was the end of the conversation. But that's obviously not where the story ends with them. I spotted his old roommate, Sean, once in the same room, and when he spotted her, he smiled and waved. It was neutral, not like he was happy to see her or nervous that she was there either, so I felt it wasn't going to be a problem. For the first hour or so after that, everything seemed fine. People were drinking, dancing, talking. I passed Joker and Harley when I went to get my girl.

girlfriend and I another drink, and I realized that from that angle, they would look at Sean and then laugh really loud. It wasn't a normal laugh, either. Both of them would be laughing in character. Joker kept doing this high-pitched cackling that would just cut through all the sound in the room. I get doing it once in a while, if maybe you're showing off. My girlfriend and I did the same with our characters, but damn. At least it wasn't a screeching laugh like that. They had made their way to the back of the room where we were, and I could tell because they were very loud,

so I spotted them pretty quickly. Sean was also back there and had been playing some kind of beer pong. I was watching and laughing with other people when I couldn't help but notice that Harley and Joker were now being a little extra. They would dance a little, knock something down, and then laugh and start making out. Not once did Sean pay them any attention. He never even turned around.

I know that once drinks start pouring, people can get pretty crazy and unpredictable. But Matt did his best to put away most things that he didn't want broken or possibly moved or stolen. He just had some pictures hanging up still, or like his shelf in the living room that had all of his movies and games on it. But sure enough,

The Joker started getting everyone's attention as he attempted to juggle beer bottles. He didn't know how to juggle in the slightest. He threw them up in the air, caught one of them barely, while the other two smashed to the ground. This caused people to look over at what the sound was, and those two started laughing like it was the funniest thing they'd seen. I stared at them, waiting to see if they were going to pick it up, and they both leaned over as if they were picking things up. so I just went back to what I was doing. But things like that continued to happen.

Joker accidentally seemed to knock over someone's drink. Harley ran her hand across the wall and knocked off some of the photos Matt had hanging up. Again, they would both just laugh about it. It wasn't a drunk laugh either. It was the same characteristic laugh for both of them, and the laughs and their little antics were, well, starting to bother me. If it was the alcohol, then you should know your limits. If it wasn't, then you were just purposely being disrespectful to other people's stuff,

and I had a problem with that. When something else was knocked down, Matt also had enough, and finally went to confront them. We'd been in a different room talking at that time, but I could hear him and all he said was to pay more attention because they were breaking his stuff. He didn't even accuse them of doing it on purpose, which is how I was feeling about it,

but instead of responding like a normal person and apologizing or something, they doubled down on staying in character. Joker started in on his slow giggle while Harley tried defending him. Matt warned them that if they didn't watch it, he would kick them out at the party. When I heard another crash and Matt yell out,

I went to back him up. On the ground was a lamp that Matt had in the corner of the room that one of them must have knocked down. I started picking it up when Matt yelled at them to leave, saying they were being obnoxious. It wasn't funny, and no one could stand their stupid laughter. I could feel the tension in the room at this moment, and something told me that this was not going to end well.

Matt was already in Joker's face, so I got between them to break it up when, from the side, Harley had swung her bat at the wall, smashing a hole in it. This caused multiple people in the room to get up and leave. I know they could sense it all too. Then Sean walked in the room. I was hoping that maybe he could talk some sense into his ex, but I quickly realized he just made the situation worse.

He called her out by name. I think it was Liz or something like that. And he asked her, what the hell? she was thinking. That is when everything seemed to happen all at once. Joker began laughing maniacly. Sean asked her to leave and she turned slightly and then swung back around

with the bat, hitting Sean right in the skull. The crack as it made connection was sickening. The room fell silent as he dropped to the floor. Matt began yelling at them, tackled heart. Harley and ripped the bat away from her. Joker tried piling on top of Matt, so I had to pull him off and restrain him. Another guy jumped in to help me, and it just became this whole brawl, trying to get them out of the house.

Matt had managed to grab both of Harley's arms and practically dragged her out the front door. Me and the two other guys had to do the same with the Joker. There was screaming and talking back inside, but we hadn't paid attention. into it until we got those two out. When we went back in, there was a girl on her knees next to Sean holding his head as he was seizing. She'd hit him hard enough to cause him to have a seizure. The girl was on the phone, and based on what she was saying, I'm pretty sure it was with

911. I didn't know what to do. Guess what field I didn't go into. Thank God there were a few nurses to be there, and they were helping keep him stationary and controlled as best they could. I was freaked out that she may have done some permanent damage to him, and we could have stopped it. We should have taken the bat away from her the first thing,

but I honestly thought that if they were confronted, that they would just knock it off. I'm sure they didn't take as long as it felt, but waiting for the paramedics was grueling. I felt worthless in that moment, not being able to help him. The seizing didn't last much long, after that, but he wasn't responding much other than a few groans.

They got him secured and rushed him to the hospital, and the rest of us were left there standing around in the silence, the living room now a wreck. The police took statements from a lot of us, and then everyone slowly began to disperse and go home. Two of the cops actually offered rides home with several of us being under the influence. My girlfriend took some friends home, and I stayed behind as well as two others to help clean the place up from Matt. He was not in a good headspace, I could tell. He was trying to throw this huge party to just kick back and relax, and in a matter of minutes, it was ruined by two people.

We learned the next day that Sean would be okay. He had a severe concussion and part of his skull was actually fractured. She hit him with enough force to fracture his skull, So tell me that wasn't personal. From what I heard from Matt, the police did end up catching Harley, but she would not give away who Joker was. She wouldn't give up his identity. She tried to claim for a while that he didn't even exist,

but the dozen people that gave statements that they were both there told the police that she was lying. Ultimately, she was charged with aggravated assault, and a few other things, and I never saw her unconscious. campus again. Sean did end up okay, and I saw him around a few times after that. Him and Matt stayed close friends, so I got updates on him. It just made me realize that this was the very reason why weapons are never allowed at Halloween parties, and if I ever decide to host my

own, I will always make sure they are left behind. I'm still honestly not completely sure how to process this story, even all these years later. I swear every October I'm reminded of what happened, and it always ruins the mood of the Halloween season for me. It's not anything supernatural, thankfully, but it is one of the scariest things that's ever happened to me. This was back when I was 13, so I was old enough that we thought we were too cool to go with our parents, and too cool to go on the little kid routes.

but we were still young enough that candy was life. My parents told me that they wanted me to just go around the block, but I wasn't about to listen to them. Oh no. I was going to go wherever I wanted. It was me and my friend Alex, and we were planning our route pretty meticulously. We would go down the road, and instead of going to the left, we would head right to the north,

which we knew was the more affluent area of our neighborhood. We knew they would have full-sized candy bars, or at least something worth the while. The only problem was that we would have to cross a small, dark creek path to get there, and the houses were spaced further apart. It was starting to get late, maybe around 9.30 when we started up the way, and we were determined to hit the jackpot. We were hitting the last few houses up one of the streets, and our bags were definitely getting heavy. My costume was starting to annoy me.

My mask was making me sweaty and the shirt was making me itchy. I was dressed as ghost face. We also started to notice that some of the houses up the way were turning their lights off, so it was hitting a point where we needed to finish what we were doing and head back. There was one more house on the road that had the light on, and I asked Alex if he wanted to head there and go back home. He thought on it for a moment, but then decided that it was just one more, so why not? The house looked a bit more run down, a little less maintained, but the light was on, and they had a jack-o-lantern, so we assumed they were definitely open to trick-or-treaters.

The walkway was overgrown, but the driveway was at least cleared, so even though the grass was taller by the house, it was accessible. The heavy front door was slightly ajar, but the lights inside were on, so we went ahead and hit the doorbell. Nothing happened. We hesitated for a moment, but the candy was a powerful motivator. Then a voice drifted out from the room, telling us to come inside. That wasn't quite what we expected, nor what we planned, but I pushed the door open a little bit to look into the house. and the man called out again that he couldn't come to the door

because he had a quote, bad leg. So we could come in to get the candy. He then said that the other kids had been doing the same and it was completely safe, which should have been a red flag, but hey, I was 13.

It felt strange, but at the same time, I don't know, I guess it sounded legit. The interior was unsettlingly quiet, almost two, room-like. There was that retro-wood dark paneling that was lining the walls and some old furniture in the living room. The only thing I didn't see was the candy. We took a step or two

into the house and then heard a sickeningly loud thunk, which was the sound of the door shutting behind Alex and then the deadbolt latching. We both jumped and turned to look, only to see a man now standing in front of the door. He looked, let's just say, disheveled and absolutely crazy. He wasn't an old man with a bad knee. He was a thin, lanky dude with wiry hair and an intense stare behind thick glasses. He wasn't dressed up. This wasn't some prank that he was pulling on us for the holiday.

He was now blocking our way out of the house. The blood drained out of my face. Alex froze instantly. The man directed us toward another room, motioning toward the kitchen, saying that we needed to, quote, just listen to him and he wouldn't hurt us. He didn't yell or really threaten us,

and that unnerving calmness almost made the situation that much worse. It was like he was detached from the situation, like he was trying to keep what was essentially a kidnapping, of two young teenage boys out of his mind so he could do what he wanted to do. I looked at Alex, and the pure, raw fear in his eyes was the catalyst that pushed me past my own paralyzing panic.

The living room was small and moving into the kitchen meant moving deeper into the house. We couldn't do that. We had to figure out how the heck to get out of the house immediately. Alex was closest to the man, And the man was getting frustrated that we weren't moving like he asked us to. As the man reached out to grab Alex, Alex screeched and flinched, stumbling into a rickety table near the wall.

The table, which held a ceramic lamp in a couple of thick books, went down with a deafening crash. The noise, especially in that silent and dust-filled house, was immense. The man freaked out, yelling about how we broke his lamp. his composure shattering instantly. His head whipped around to the sound, and with that moment of him being distracted, I threw the entire weight of my body into him, knocking him off his feet. He went down, bashing his head against the wall and falling to the floor.

This was our only chance, and I had to not give a damn about whether or not I caused that man's serious injury. He hit his head against the wall pretty hard. I immediately turned toward the door, told Alex to come on and unlocked it. The two of us ran out of the house and down the driveway, turning down the road and booked it as fast as we could away from that man. We took the creek path and we got back to the main road that would lead to our neighborhood before we took a couple of moments to catch her breath. After those couple moments of trying to get the adrenaline out of our systems,

we started walking back up the hill toward our house. Thankfully, we weren't being chased. The man wasn't behind us, and we somehow managed to keep our bags of candy. So we got out of the situation relatively unscathed. I know that nothing happened to us beyond the man locking us in the house and telling us to go into the dark, empty room,

and I'm assuming that he had very nefarious intent. I don't know what he was really, planning to do with us, or why he wanted to kidnap us there, but it certainly scared the hell out of me, because it was not a situation to be in. If anyone is curious, no, we didn't tell our parents about it, and yes, I regret that. I hate to think that the man could have gotten another kid in the house and done what he wanted, but we were dumb kids and we were more worried about getting into trouble than telling our parents about it.

Hopefully he took a lesson from my tackle and didn't try it again, because I know that I did some damage. This happened a long time ago, so there's really no reason in dwelling on it anymore, but it did teach me that, when I had my own kid, I didn't let him go anywhere on his own until he was old enough by my personal standards, and he had a cell phone with him. Yes, that is a bit clingy, I know, but this event was seared into my mind enough to influence how I parented. Anyways, thanks for reading Raven, and I hope you have a very happy Halloween. Hi there, I thought you might be interested in a few experiences that I had as a haunted house actress.

For the most part, it was a great time. I made friends. It really solidified my dream of becoming an actress and how much I loved the horror genre. But there were a few nights that scared me. I have some smaller ones that I might share later, but I wanted to share some of the more intense experiences. I worked at a pretty well-known haunted house for four years in a row,

from 2007 to 2010. I won't say which one or which state, because I know they've had some issues before, legally, so I'm going to keep this as anonymous as possible. They made you sign a waiver before entering about risk, and also because this was a full-contact place, within reason, of course. The actors could touch you, they could pull you around or gently push you. Because of what we were allowed to do as actors,

and the intensity of the experience, we also had age requirements. You had to be 18 or older to enter. We had a few people that tried to get in at the age of 16 or 17, but ID was required, so they didn't get very far. I remember seeing some people that looked younger, but I wasn't the ticket or ID checkers, so I assumed that they were doing what they were supposed to. During this season, I was working in a zombie graveyard near the middle of the attraction. It was the weekend, which was when we were the busiest, and groups were coming through steadily. Around 11 p.m., I heard my Waki come to life, and someone said they needed everyone to check their areas immediately, because there was a child missing. Again, this was an 18-plus haunted house. How could we have a missing child?

Well, apparently a woman had pleaded to let her nine-year-old in with her, and the doorman decided that an extra $20 was worth the price of admission. About halfway through, one of the actors had grabbed the mom, not realizing there was a kid following her, because why would they? When people are separated from their group, eventually they meet back up in another room, floor, or maybe back outside. So the mom didn't feel that it was too big of a deal until she was back outside and waiting for her kid to exit. She waited in person after person exited, but her kid never came out. She apparently waited an entire hour before finally alerting the doorman to what happened. We had to usher people out, and then all the lights were turned on. Every single one of us started searching our sections, calling out one by one that we were clear.

We were calling out for him, looking behind props, checking crevices, but the kid was nowhere to be found. We actually had to call the police in at that point. They came in with flashlights and started a more thorough sweep. The guests were being grouped into one area and not allowed to leave. All of us actors were told to remain at our stations as they walked through. I remember personally feeling awful. This happened the first year that I worked there, and I felt like I should have spotted this kid and stopped them to make sure they got out safely.

The fact that we couldn't find him worried me even more. Did someone else spot the kid and snatch him? Was he taken by one of the people that left right after we shut down? The owner didn't think to keep everyone where they were, so, before the police arrived, multiple groups had already left. And I was fearing for this child's safety. As the police searched, I heard someone talking through a walkie on my floor, and the officer there quickly walked off. Then a rush of relief went through me as I heard them say, they found him.

He had been nearly trampled over by people. He crawled along a wall until he found a false wall that we had put up. The area behind it was used for storage. He managed to pull it out enough to crawl behind it. He found a tub and crawled inside of that, staying in the fetal position. The poor kid had wet himself, understandably, and nearly cried himself to sleep. with his hands clamped over his ears, which is why he didn't respond to us calling out his name.

I learned later he was okay, but he was severely traumatized. This kid didn't understand what was going on. He saw horrifying scenes. His mom was pulled away from him, and he was walked over. For all he knew, he was in danger and he had to hide to save himself. And his mom actually brought him here,

instead of just leaving him at home. I was relieved he was found, but it could have been so much worse. He could have been kidnapped or severely injured. I told myself that if I continued to work there, I needed to try to pay more attention to my surroundings and look out for people breaking the rules like that. The next event happened in 2009. It was the week of Halloween and we were packed,

running at full capacity. They were having to force breaks in groups to give us time to reset and to rest as well, which happened less and less as the season went on. I was in the butcher shop section this time, which was always popular. We had fake meat, mannequins wrapped in plastic hanging from hooks and rope, fake blood everywhere along the path as you walked, making it harder for you to run away and easier for us to pull you along. A group came along and I did my thing.

I grabbed my fake cleaver, chased them around the room until they were out of reach, a.k.a. we're in the next area. And we had dimmed the flashing lights, so I saw a couple that came through with their arms locked together. My partner scared the girl, which made her throw her hands up and cover her chest. Then he chased off the girl while I tried to pull the guy along.

We would basically act like we were prepping to cut them up. then turn away to grab something, giving them the time to get up and run away as one of us chases them. The problem with that is, when I grabbed the guy, he stood completely still. I wasn't a tiny girl, and I knew that I really had to put some muscle into those, when it's someone bigger than me, but this guy wasn't budging. So I yelled at him and began to push him. He took a few steps forward and then paused again. I could hear another group coming up, so something had to give.

So I decided to move away, staying in character, hoping that he would just move along. But when I turned back around, he was still standing there with his hands to his chest. At first, I thought it was like the girl that was with him who clutched her chest after being startled. But something felt off. I turned on my headlamp and saw that this guy didn't look scared. In fact, his face was almost emotionless, but he was sweaty and his eyes were dilated. He said something that I couldn't make out with all the noise around me,

so I got closer, and that's when I heard him say, I can't breathe. I immediately pulled off my mask, hit the emergency switch that basically turns on all the lights in the room, and then ran back toward him to ask what was wrong. I didn't get to finish my sentence before the man fell forward on to me. Thankfully, I was able to break his fall because,

Otherwise, he would have bashed his head into the counter that we used as the butcher table. But as he lied on the floor, I could tell that he was having trouble breathing, and still he was clutching his chest. The first thing that came to mind was that this man was having a heart attack in the middle of a haunted house. What the hell were we supposed to do? I called out to my partner telling them that we had an emergency and he called for help. The girl with him came back running to our room and screaming. Everything happened so fast after that. Our manager was there quickly and was already on the phone calling for help.

She at least had medical training and started asking the couple questions and checking him over. We were clearing the area, telling people to turn back around or directing them through the emergency exits so they weren't walking past the guy, and the doorman stopped allowing people in. The paramedics got there in record time, or maybe I was just so busy. doing everything else that I didn't notice the time. They got him on a stretcher, and we led them through the emergency route, taking them straight back to the front. I heard the paramedics confirmed that he was likely having a heart attack. The bad thing was, after he left and things were cleared,

we were told to get right back at it. We didn't have time to process it. There was no small break for us to catch our breath. It was lights off in one minute. get back in character. And that was it. It was a very busy time of the season, and they didn't dare to lose out on the money.

Our mental health be damned. I did hear that the guy survived, thankfully, but it just felt awful that he signed a waiver saying that we aren't responsible, yet our jump scare may have caused it. The last story that I'll share with you happened the last year that I worked there. It was the night of Halloween,

so once again, one of our busiest night. We had a ton of people in costume, which was allowed, but they couldn't wear masks, and all weapons, real and fake, of course, were prohibited. We would have a few people try to fight the mask thing, saying that their costume didn't make sense without it, but you were going through a dark haunted house. No one was going to see your costume anyway. We limited any face coverings to us actors only. At this point, I was working in the asylum station, dressed as a deranged. patient. My job was pretty standard. I would grab guests, get in their faces, sometimes I would plead with them to save me or something, or I would drag them back with me, shouting nonsense just to

separate them from the others until another actor grabbed me and ushered them back to the group. About two hours into my shift, a group came through and I did my usual routine. I grabbed one guy's arm, pushed him toward the left corridor while his friends went right. He jerked away from me harder than most people did, but I didn't think much of it. People react differently to being touched. Maybe five minutes later, another group came through. In the beginning of the room, I heard someone say, Ow, hell, that hurt!

Which caught my attention. You didn't really hear people say, ow, in here. It was just screams and laughter, so it's still. stood out. Nothing followed, though, so I figured maybe someone bumped into someone else and hit their head in something. Some of our tallest guests would bump into the door frames. When nothing was said afterwards, I just kept going through with the routine. But then there was a woman at the back of the group that I waited to grab. I try to cycle through, so I don't always jump out at the beginning of the group to keep it fresh, you know. but when I reached for her, I noticed that her arm was wet. We didn't have any kind of scene that involved getting the guest wet, so I was thrown off by the sensation,

especially since it was her upper arm. When the lights flashed, I looked at her and saw the wetness was dark and in a full streak down her arm, up to where I touched her. It was clearly blood. I broke character and mentioned that she was bleeding, and then asked if she was okay. She said that when she went past the railing in the previous room, she felt something sharp going down her arm,

but didn't realize that she had started bleeding. I told her that I was required to escort her out to take care of her injury, and she accepted. She didn't seem scared or worried, but just in the moment. I assume that maybe something on the wall broke and something sharp was jutting out. The person that said out earlier didn't say any, to the staff, so they didn't take it too seriously at the time.

The manager on duty said they would check it out if we slowed down or when we closed. I went back to my area and got back into character, continuing as normal. It was maybe half an hour after I returned that there was this weird, oof, sound from a guest. Then there was screaming. Not the fun, haunted house screams. terrified, screams. The kind that make your hair stand straight up. People were running straight by us,

not stopping to experience the moment. They were running in fight or flight mode. I was frozen in place trying to figure out what was going on. And then someone finally shouted, He's got a knife, do something. I don't know why my first instinct was to hide instead of run, but that's what my body chose. I dropped down and crawled under one of our prop tables in the corner,

pressing myself against the wall. My heart was pounding so hard that I could feel it in my face. I watched feet running past until someone fell near my hiding spot. It was one of my co-workers. She was working in the room right before mine and I could hear her crying. I grabbed her arm and she screamed and I tried to calm her down. She finally realized who I was, and then she crawled under the table and huddled under it with me. We sat there silently both shaking.

I don't know what she witnessed, but with how terrified she was, it only made me panic more. What the hell had happened out there? We stayed there for the longest time until we didn't see anyone coming through for several minutes. We got up and cautiously walked toward the emergency exit. As we walked out, she explained what she had seen. She said the person shouting about the knife was in her station, so she hit the lights. She saw a guy standing in the room holding a large knife. How the hell did he get that inside?

She said he looked at her when she hit the lights and just looked so angry. He started walking toward her, but someone had come running up the ramp and grabbed the guy's arm holding the knife. As they started fighting each other, she took off, our room being the closest emergency exit, which is when I saw her. I can't imagine experiencing that. Once we were out, we found some other co-workers and they confirmed that they had actually stopped the guy.

There were cop cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck all over the lot. And shortly after, we saw the cops walk out at the building with a guy in handcuffs. After statements and checking everyone that was injured, we went back in and saw the blood. There was fake blood and sort of, certain spots in the walls, but between my station and the one before it, and after, there were

streaks and drops along the floor. That was Erie. We were closed for the rest of the night, and there was still no answer as to why the hell he did this. The owner didn't want to pay to have someone clean the blood, and told the manager that we needed to help clean it, but we all refused. We even threatened legal action because this was clearly a safety hazard for many reasons. They finally agreed to have it cleaned, but the next day it was clearly half-assed.

It was hardly touched. The manager tried to shrug it off saying that it added to the creepiness. It did not. People were terrified, hurt, and traumatized, and they were trying to just blow it off. I worked that night, but then I didn't return. People could have been killed. We were lucky that no one was. or that no one tried to sue, but they just didn't take it seriously,

so several of us actually ended up walking off. So, that's my experience of working at a haunted house. I'm sure they all aren't that bad, at least I hope. But my experience was at least. I had a lot of fun working there, but the bad times were really bad, and it just wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth my safety or mental health. So take that as you will, and just remember that the job isn't worth it if you have to sacrifice your well-being.

Many girls who grew up in the late 50s or early 60s knew that to summon a witch, all you had to do was peer into a mirror in a darkened room, chant her name three times, and wait for her to appear in the reflection. In my neighborhood, her name was Mary Weatherby, though elsewhere it was some variations such as Mary Worth. Regardless, Mary, the story goes, was a woman who had been burned as a witch and now spent her afterlife giving young girls advice

on romance and future husbands. Everyone knew that Mary was basically a kind being, with one exception. She absolutely hated it when anyone tried to look at her directly. If you turned around to look at her, would fly into a rage and claw your eyes out. The only way to stop her was to turn on the lights. Otherwise, she would attack you for having the audacity to see her, as she was, after the witch burning.

So, there we were, four girls. Myself, my two younger sisters and Joanne, a neighbor from down the street. We got up our courage and talked ourselves into giving it a try one evening in autumn, not long before Halloween. We knew the drill, lights off, all crowd before a full-length mirror on the door, and begin the chant. Merry weather be once, merry weather be twice, Mary Weatherby three times. It wasn't long before Joanne, who was by far the most excitable, cried out. Look, I can see her. Sure enough, there in the mirror we saw a cloudy, pale mist gathering over the group's right shoulders.

There she is. Ask the questions. Ask the questions. Someone bravely choked out. Who will I marry? But instead of an answer, a heavy bookend on a shelf across the room fell with a thud. What was that? We hurried to flip on the light switch, and the lights wouldn't come on. Mary was about to attack us. We screamed in panic. Joanne cried, run, but we were no further than a few steps into the next room when suddenly every light in the house went out. Shrieking, we spilled into the kitchen where my mom stood at the sink. Mary Weatherby, Mary Weatherby, our babbling stopped as soon as we realized that she was laughing, and like magic the lights came back on. My dad was a working-class man in his 30s who wasn't above pranking a bunch of terrified pre-teen girls. The back door

opened and he came in from the yard, laughing his head off. He'd quietly slipped out and flipped the switches on the circuit breaker, plunging the whole house into blackness. Once we realized that Mary Weatherby wasn't about to rip our eyes out, we calmed down and ruefully watched our parents laugh for what must have been five minutes. To this day, my sister and I have only to mention the name Mary Weatherby, and we dissolve into giggles. My parents and Joanne are long gone, but the family legend lives on.

Yeah, Dad, you caught us good that time. Somewhere beyond the veil, they are all still laughing, along with Mary Weatherby. As a kid, I was never too big on trick-or-treating. The first few times I went, when I could comprehend the whole concept, it was fun. I enjoyed showing off my costume and getting candy. But as the years went on, it really started to lose its appeal for me. I still had two younger siblings and absolutely enjoyed it, so until we were all done with it, we all went. I don't know, maybe it was the middle school angst, or maybe I was just at that awkward age where you're too old to be excited about it,

but too young to do anything actually fun on Halloween night. The year that I turned 11 pretty much solidified my thoughts for me. We were out trick-or-treating, going about it as we normally would. I was still in costume, a makeshift vampire, because I didn't want my parents to spend too much on my costume. I had a long black cloak and vampire fangs with fake blood running down my mouth, black clothes underneath. That was about it. We hadn't even finished our block.

We approached a door, and when the lady answered, she gave my siblings candy first, and then held her hand up for me saying that good line, aren't you getting a little too old to be doing this? This gave just enough fodder for me to say that I was done with it, and for my mom to explode on this woman. There was a solid five to ten minutes where my mom tore this lady apart, and the woman just looked absolutely shocked to be called out on her comment. I was embarrassed, as other families walked by and stared,

but I also agreed with my mom and still do to this day. Just let them trick or treat. If I was still into it at that age, I would have continued doing so. It just wasn't for me. After that night, however, I decided that I was too old to trick or treat and didn't want to do it anymore. The following year, when they asked me about getting a costume, I told them my thoughts, and that I didn't want to go. They were disappointed.

I think they wanted us all to go, both of them being big on family tradition and whatnot, but ultimately they respected my choice. They even said that I could stay home then and pass out the candy for those that came by. That was something I was excited for. I would get to be home alone with the bowl of candy that I would occasionally have to pass out to others.

I could handle that. Halloween night, my parents left with my two siblings, went over the rules again, and then left me to my own devices. The first few hours were uneventful. I was watching something on adult swim and would have to answer the door here and there and share the goods. They were all polite kids, and I noticed some of them were even my age, which at least made me feel a little better about myself. Around 9 p.m., the flow of trick-or-treaters slowed tremendously, which was good, because I was actually running low on candy. I knew my family typically finished around 9 or 10 as well, depending on how much family and friends we stopped to see. I was looking like a blob as I lied on the couch, waiting for my family to get back home.

I was just starting to drift off when I heard the doorbell again. I looked at the clock and noticed it was a little after 10. First, why weren't my parents back yet? And second, were people still really out trick-or-treating? Not thinking about it, I just got up and opened the door with the bowl of candy, without even thinking twice. What I did not expect to see was a group of about six adults, probably in their 20s or 30s, and not a single kid in sight. They were all in costumes, if you could call it that. They were half-assed at best.

One guy wore a hockey mask, but was otherwise in jeans and a t-shirt. There was a girl who had what looked like poorly applied clown makeup that was smeared and fading like she'd been sweating. Two of them literally just had small kids' blankets wrapped around their necks like a cape, not even over them like a ghost. I assume they were for kids because one had rug rats on it, and the other one was, I think, care bears. The fifth guy just had on a white t-shirt with the word Halloween costume written on it.

And the last guy stood behind them all not dressed as anything. No makeup, nothing at all. They all stared at me with this weird blank expression. Nobody said anything, myself included. And I didn't know how to react. Finally, the guy with the hockey mask said, Uh, trick-or-treat? and the rest of them laughed.

They just stood there with their hands out, no bags or buckets, just their hands waiting. The whole thing felt off, and if I wasn't so weirded out, I probably would have laughed. But instead I reached into the bowl and put one piece of candy

into each of their hands, except the guy in the back. They all looked down at it and then back up me continuing with that same blank expression, and then they started complaining, complaining. The hockey mask said,

Just one? Come on, don't be stingy. The girl with the carebear blanket said that she wanted more and demanded a certain candy, one that I didn't even have. I didn't know what to say or do in this situation, but the fact that I was facing six full-grown adults barely in a costume was really throwing me off, not to mention the red flags. So I told them that I did.

didn't have what she was asking for and threw in, besides, you guys are way too old to be trick-or-treating anyways. I know, very hypocritical of me, but the least you can do if you try to trick-or-treat at that age is a real costume. But their reaction was not one that I expected. They all looked at each other and the guy with the Halloween shirts said, why would you think that? The way he said it made me feel weird, is all I know how to describe it. it. It sounded sincere, like he truly didn't understand what I meant, but at the same time it had a slight twinge to it, almost like a sense of mockery. They kept insisting that I give them more, and finally, with a little more sternness in my voice, I told them that I wasn't going to give them

anymore and that they needed to leave. The guy with the Halloween shirt leaned forward without losing his creepy grin, and he said in a slow, sinister voice, Or, how about I smash your effing face in and just take the whole damn bowl? I tried my best to not look scared, but let me tell you, my heart was pounding, and I thought I was going to cry. Who the hell says that to a 12-year-old? I tried to keep my voice steady and just said, If you don't leave, then I'm going to call the cops. I was really expecting that to deter them, for one of them to say,

let's go and just finally leave. But instead, the same guy just said, Oh, so you're alone. And they all chuckled. I didn't say another word. I didn't try to do anything other than shutting the door and locking it. I then went back to the living room and looked out the window. They were all still standing there,

but they were now facing the window I was looking through. The living room windows had blind, but two of them were busted, so they remained open at all times. The other one I closed, but they then moved over looking into the living room, and to make it even worse, the windows weren't at eye level. They had to be standing on their toes, maybe even pulling themselves up a bit just to look in. Creeped out by this, I yelled at them to go away,

and they started banging on the windows, yelling something that I couldn't quite make out. Someone started banging on the door, but I was starting to feel overwhelmed by all the noise, growing more and more scared that they were going to break the window or burst through the door. And then what? I was a small 12-year-old boy. I couldn't defend myself against six adults. So, I ran to grab the cordless phone from the wall and then locked myself in the bathroom that had no windows. I called my dad, and when he answered, I was confused to hear loud,

music and talking in the background. I ignored it and immediately told my dad what was happening. His casual and relaxed tone changed immediately to one of concern and directness. He told me to stay in the bathroom and if I heard anything more to call the cops. He shouted to my mom that they needed to go and hung up. I didn't dare leave that bathroom. I kept redialing 911 ready to hit the call button. I'd never had to do that before, and in that moment I kept feeling like I was doing it wrong, or that I was missing a step.

As if calling for help, calling for someone to come save me, shouldn't be that easy. The banging continued, but it wasn't as frequent, and then finally I could hear a car pull into the driveway. I hoped that it was my family. The banging stopped, and I heard my dad's voice as he yelled at someone. Then finally there was a knock on the bathroom door and I heard my mom calling out for me. I opened the door and hugged her tighter than I had in a while. My siblings were now lying on the couch in a confused and tired state. My dad came inside, slammed the door and began complaining to my mom.

He had chased those people off, but not before they had smashed our pumpkins, knocked down some of our decorations out front, and smeared candy bars across our house. My parents were furious. Furious of those people. Furious, they left me alone, and very apologetic to me for it. It's not like I blame them for it, though. We didn't live in a dangerous area. There were kids everywhere, so this was definitely out of nowhere.

Those that didn't have any makeup or masks also didn't look familiar. I don't think they were from the area and our house was just chosen since it was on the corner. I was slightly mad at them at the moment because they had apparently stopped at a friend's house that was having a Halloween party. That's why it was loud when I called and why they hadn't come home yet. But I moved on from it. Thankfully, they reacted quickly and believed me. I don't know if my parents reported it or anything because after everything calmed down, they helped the three of us get to bed.

My dad was cleaning up the candy the next morning and we never heard another thing about it. No one in the neighborhood even mentioned witnessing or experiencing a group of adults trying to trick-or-treat. I didn't trick-or-treat after that, but I also refused to stay home alone after that. So from then on, I just rode in the car with them. Now being an adult, I let my kid decide if he wants to go and for how long. And every year we do go, I can't help but keep an eye out on all the people in costumes around me. anticipating some creepy adults ready to bully a kid, but thankfully, that never happens. It was 11 p.m. on Halloween night in 1957.

Successful hairstylist Peter Fabiano and his wife Betty were closing up their trick-or-treat for the night at their home in Studio City, Los Angeles, when the doorbell rang. Peter thought it was just one more late trick-or-treater, so he grabbed. the candy bowl and headed to the door. When Peter opened the door, he saw someone in an ordinary Halloween costume and a browned paper bag. Inside that bag, Goldine Pyser wasn't carrying a hall of Halloween goodies. She was carrying a 38 caliber revolver. As soon as the door opened, Pyser fired a single round into Peter's chest. He collapsed immediately.

Pyser ran to a waiting car and fled the scene. Betty found her husband on the porch moments later and called for paramedics. It was too late, however, for Peter, and he was pronounced dead shortly after midnight on November 1st, 1957. Police were on the scene in minutes. The initial thinking was that it was a robbery gone wrong, or perhaps a random act of Halloween violence. When they realized that nothing had been stolen, investigators moved on to looking at the people closest to Peter and his wife. wife Betty. The disguises definitely complicated things, and with no witnesses that were able to identify the shooter, detectives knew they were going to have to rely on the single 38 caliber bullets

that was recovered from Peter's body to build their case. The witnesses did, however, provide their first solid picture of what was happening outside the Fabiano home that night. They told detectives that they had noticed a car idling outside the house. No license plate could be identified, but one neighbor in particular recalled hearing the sound of a single gunshot, and the sounds of a car speeding away. This told investigators a very important bit of information. This wasn't a random attack. It was a planned assassination. Of course, the police sat down with Betty Fabiano, and it is said that she appeared distraught, but was cooperative. While she said that her life together with Peter was happy, they did find out that in 1956, the couple had briefly separated.

During this time, Betty lived with a photographer friend named Joan Rabel. Their relationship was described as unconventional by 1950's standards. When Betty reconciled with Peter and moved back in with him, Rabel wasn't happy with the control he exerted over Betty. After the reconciliation, Betty had remained close friends with Rabel, so allegedly she had seen first-hand some things that didn't sit right with her. She was also incredibly jealous of Paul, because she felt like Betty had chosen him over her.

This led to Rabel vilifying Peter to others. The more the detectives looked at Rabel's relationship to the Fabianos, it became clear that, in the weeks leading up to the crime, she was seen near the house. A witness reports that, that she told them that he was a vile, evil man, and he deserved what was coming to him. Needless to say, this really made investigators arch their brows

and proceed to dissect Rable's recent activities and who she may have been spending, let's say, an inordinate amount of time with prior to the crime. It wasn't terribly long when they came across a 40-year-old medical laboratory technician by the name of Golden Pizer. She lived alone and had no prior criminal history. Everything they could find out about the woman suggested that she wasn't terribly confident and was often described as timid.

Other terms to describe her personality were that she was quiet, reserved, and deeply impressionable. It also became clear very quickly that, in the months leading up to the shooting, Rabel and Pyser had been spending a lot of time together. The first truly monumental break in the case came when a 38-caliber revolver was able to be traced back to a gun locker rented under an alias at a Los Angeles storage facility. The handwriting on the documents ultimately led them right back to Pyser. Initially, Pyser denied any involvement in the crime, but the handwriting analysis came back as a match to Pyser. Once the police took her into custody, Pyser actually. confessed. She admitted that she had fired the single gunshot that had taken Peter Fabiano's

life, and she also said that she had done so under Rabel's instructions. Pizer went on to explain that Rabel had convinced her that Peter was an abuser and that she'd be doing the world a favor. It was also said that Rabel had provided the gun, the costume, and the getaway plan. Once the police got into the interview slash interrogation of Pyser, two things quickly became clear. Firstly, every account they had about Pyser being impressionable and even a little naive was accurate. Secondly, Rabel had taken full advantage of that and had spent months laying out a horrific story of Peter being overbearing and even abusive toward his wife, Betty.

It was as calculated an act of grooming and manipulation. as you could ever find in a situation like this. Rabel had easily exploited Pizer's mental state, and she had successfully turned this lab technician into and weaponized her as a scalpel. Pizer explained in depth how Rappel had taken her time, and slowly fed her the idea that Peter was an evil man, corrupt, and that he deserved to die. after hearing allegedly true stories about Peter's reign of terror over Betty

and being told that if they killed Peter they would be quote saving Betty despite the fact that she had never actually met Peter given that she literally only knew what she had been told by Rabel she perhaps understandably so had been swayed to Rabel's way of thinking and again we have the multiple testimonies of people she knew or worked with that corroborated that Pyser was of a disposition to be easily manipulated due to her desire to be accepted and being eager to please people she admired. In fact, this kind of became Pyser's ultimate defense,

that she was under the control of another more dominating personality in Rabel. Within a week of Pyser's confession, Rable was arrested and sat down for interrogation. Rabel was quick to deny any involvement with Peter's murder. She threw around the claims that she was framed or misunderstood. The police were quick to note Rabel's calm, emotionless demeanor, which was a stark contrast to Pyser's obvious distress. Rabel stubbornly pushed back on Pyser's claims.

Despite the physical evidence, the gunlocker, etc., that contradicted nearly everything she said to detectives. Both Pyser and Rabel were arrested on first-degree murder charges and were held in the Sybilbrain Institute for Women until the trial was set to begin. Very early in those proceedings, the press were also quick to emphasize the difference in personalities of the two women, with Rabel being noted as the Cold Planner and Pyser as the nervous accomplice.

With both women now in custody, authorities quickly moved to prosecute them. With the crime having occurred in late 1957, by early 1958, both women were formally charged and brought before the Los Angeles Superior Court. Initially, prosecutors were leveling first-degree murder charges against them, citing the conspiracy and premeditation. The case had become so scandalous at this point that everyone was curious about what had been dubbed by the press as the, Halloween Love Triangle murder, at least contemporarily. All eyes were on the papers in the courthouse eager to see just what the verdict may be. The fact that two women were on trial for felony murder in the late 1950s,

this would have been absolutely huge, given the standards at the time. As I already mentioned, the very nature of this case drew a lot of attention from both the press, and by extension the public. The courtroom was consistently packed with spectators and the press, all crammed in under the buzzing fluorescent lights that illuminated the proceedings. Every nuance of the defendants, under close scrutiny by the gathered onlookers, everyone, especially the press from places such as the Los Angeles Times and the Los Angeles Mirror, quickly noted the vastly contrasted demeanor of the two women.

Rabel was cold and detached, while Pyser was tearful and clearly shaken. Indeed, all observations by the public and press only seemed to give weight to what Pyser was saying in her own defense. Rabel was clearly in control, and by accounts written in the aforementioned papers, it almost seemed like, even in the courtroom, Rabel tried to maintain dominance over Pyser and tried to subtly establish control over her even in front of witnesses. Given the incredibly unconventional dynamic that appeared to exist between the two women, plus the fact that it was two women on trial for the same murder, it was absolutely unfathomable to 1950s society.

The sheer shock factor sent ripples nationwide as coverage of the case only seeped out into other press outlets across the United States. When it came down to it, prosecutors knew they could prove the premeditation beyond a shadow of a doubt. What they were having trouble disentangling was the manipulation aspect. They knew it would be next to impossible to prove Pizer was actually that under Rabel's thumb, or just posturing trying to avoid a harsher sentence. Ultimately, the way the courtroom drama played out ended with both women pleading guilty to a second-degree murder.

in order to avoid a potential death sentence. In April of 1958, Judge Leonard E. Lehman accepted both pleas and sentenced both women to life in prison at the California Institute for Women in Corona. He also publicly made note of the cold calculation of the act, but also cited extraordinary psychological factors. When it was all over, both women left the courtroom in relative silence. Rabel as stoic as ever, and Pizer, softly crying as they were led away. And while the trial may have been over, the public's fascination with the case was far from it.

The press fed into this pseudo-obsession by keeping it in the public's mind. The media easily spun the Halloween Love Triangle murder into a spectacle. They had the perfect foil in Rabel to cast her as the cold-hearted manipulative mastermind, and the jealous, scorned lover. Pizer was perfect for the role of diminutive pawn in Rabel's game, to get revenge on the man who, in her view, had stolen Betty from her. The debate that quickly followed the trial was asking the question, was justice truly served or was one woman carrying the other's sentence?

And that's kind of a question each person has to answer for themselves. And the media was sure to keep that question in everyone's mind. but in a way it was kind of answered when after seven years of incarceration both women were granted parole in 1965 after which both women faded into the mist of quiet obscurity in this section

I just wanted to take a moment to state that despite all the rumors about him spread by Rabel and stated about him in court and since Peter is not here to defend himself I wanted it to be known. No evidence, witness statements, or even statements by Betty, have ever suggested that the accusations of abuse had any weight whatsoever. I'm quite certain the social norms of the 1950s marriage dynamic applied, but I'm not going to talk about that here, just making sure I acknowledged it. That said, I want to close this as I always do, by remembering the ones that perished.

Peter Fabiano was a well-respected man, a successful man by standards of his time, and he was a human being. Not a headline, not a spectacle. So, may Peter Fabiano rest in peace. I was wanting to write this down because it was something that was super bizarre that happened to me, and I was hoping someone could tell me that I'm not losing my mind, that there was someone else out there that has gone through something like this before, This happened in October of 2023, in a corn maze in a rural part in a northeastern state. I don't feel comfortable giving more than that for privacy reasons.

Sorry. Not that I think anyone would do anything with it, that's just how I am. My girlfriend at the time, Nikki, loved all the fall stuff. She was obsessed with pumpkin patches, apple picking, hay rides, corn mazes, all of. it. I was more of a stay inside and watch the entire 13 movie collection of the Halloween franchise kind of gal, but she wanted to go to this corn maze that she had seen advertised on Instagram. It was about an hour away, some farm that did a big Halloween attraction every year. The photos looked cool enough, so I agreed and we made some plans.

We went on a Saturday night in late October, which I believe it was the 28th. 8th. The place was packed when we arrived around 6.30 p.m. They had this really big barn that they had converted into the concession area with free apple cider tasting and homemade pumpkin pies. They had one of those knee-high mini mazes for the little ones, the pumpkin patch, of course, and then the main attraction, the massive, quote, haunted corn maze. It was basically a mini haunted house like attraction built into a corn maze. So people would just jump out at you, that kind of silly thing. Considering we were in the middle of nowhere and about to walk through some dead corn stalks, it looked really professional and fairly well maintained. The line for the maze was about half an hour long.

They wanted to keep it decently controlled and not have too many people running into each other at the dead ends and whatnot. It made sense. It wouldn't be much fun if it would be much fun if, if you were just constantly being told, hey, not that way, and having to squeeze past people the entire time. While we were waiting, we could hear people screaming inside, and then the mixture of terrified laughter you get at these things.

The staff at the front were dressed as these really creepy scarecrows, and really the vibe was just spot on. When we got to the front, they let us in, and immediately jump-scared us as soon as we turned around the first corner. The guy just inside, the one that just made me almost need new pants, gave me instructions for the maze. Stay on the path, please do not damage the corn, and if there is an emergency, they had emergency exits marked with green glow sticks every few sections. He also mentioned that it should take around 45 minutes to complete on average, and that it closed at midnight. He also mentioned that if we hit that 45-minute mark and we're struggling,

then we could tell one of the employees in the maze and they would point us in the right direction. Basically, if we wanted to give up, we could, but it wouldn't be any fun. The maze started out exactly as you would expect. Narrow-pathing, really dim lighting from lanterns, creepy music coming from the hidden speakers, and actors that walk through the corn near you or jump out with face. knives to scare the hell out of you. I admit, they got me several times, even though I was honestly expecting it. After about 15 minutes of getting lost and going every which way, we had a fork that went left

and right. There was a couple ahead of us that went to the right, and I wanted to follow them, but Nikki said that we should go to the left since the others went that way. I stared in both directions, trying to really think about it. about whether or not we should follow them or go on our own way and get completely lost for another half hour. After a couple seconds, I agreed with Nikki, and we took the path to the left. This path felt way more straight than normal. Like, there were fewer turns, and we didn't see any of the green glow sticks as we walked on.

The corn started to feel like it was less maintained, and the path kind of felt like it was getting more and more narrow. It wasn't until several minutes later, then I noticed that the music had stopped as well. It was completely silent on this part of the trail. Then I noticed that the lighting was much more dim on this section, and we were pretty much just navigating by moonlight. We kept going for a few moments,

but the whole thing just felt awe, like we were taking a path that we shouldn't have been taking, which we didn't really want to do because we weren't trying to be disrespectful to whoever owned the field. We went on for a few more minutes, until I mentioned that it was really weird that this was such a straight path. Nikki agreed and pulled out her phone to check the time.

We'd been in the maze for about half an hour, so it was 7.40-ish or somewhere in there when she checked. She also mentioned that she didn't have a signal out here, which didn't really surprise me considering where we were, but it did make me feel slightly uncomfortable not being able to look up where we were, or call anyone if we needed to.

After about five more minutes of walking straight, I stopped and told Nikki that we needed to go ahead and just turn back. That this path was clearly not a part of the maze, and we were just walking through some poor farmer's property, at this point. She agreed, and we turned around to walk back. This is where it got freaky. When we went back, about 200 feet, there was a wall of corn.

By that, I mean that there was now corn blocking the path. It was a dead end. This made no sense. We'd been walking straight for something like 15 minutes, just walking down a straight line path with no bends and no turns. And then when we decided to go back, there was no path? We stopped and stared at the now blocked off section for way too long, like we were trying to will the corn to split like the Red Sea.

With no other options, we decided to turn around and keep going back down that straight path we were, just hoping that we would somehow end up back on the main path. It was another couple of minutes until we reached a turn, a straight 90-degree pivot from the straight path to the left. I figured that was a good sign, that we were back on the path to finishing the maze. Then there was a right turn, and that was when I started to unclench my teeth and freak out a little less. When we made that right turn, I saw a lantern, which meant that we were back in part of the maze that was actually structured, part of it that could lead us to the exit. We kept on that path for a bit, seeing another lantern,

and then starting to hear some of the music that we had heard before. It honestly felt like a huge weight had been lifted when we started to get back into normalcy. After a couple moments of walking, we saw one of the signs with the green glow sticks, and I told Nikki that we needed to just go ahead and take that to the emergency exit. She agreed emphatically, and we went ahead and took the straight path and got to the part of the maze that led to the exit doors. By the time we got out, Nikki was crying, probably out of relief when we actually got to the end,

because I know that I was kind of feeling the same way. When we got out and away from the exit, Nikki pulled out her phone again and I could tell immediately that something was wrong. I asked what was up, and she looked at me and went pale. She then said, It's 1130. We were in that maze for four hours. I was shook. There was no way.

I pulled my phone out to make sure she wasn't messing with me, and sure enough, it was 1132. We walked around the maze's side and toward the entrance, and it was pretty well empty. Most of the people that were there had already headed home, minus a few groups here and there. We went to our car, not even picking up a pie like I had originally wanted, and just sat there in the mostly empty parking lot for a solid ten minutes.

Neither Nikki nor I said anything for a while. We both were just absorbing the whole thing and trying to think it through, I guess. I spoke up first and asked, That was all weird, right? Like none of that makes any sense? She sort of nodded and that was pretty much it. Somehow we ended up on a path of the maze that went straight for, well, a long time, and when we went to turn back, it was a dead end.

And within what felt like nothing more than 30 minutes, we'd somehow lost the entire night. Four full hours were gone. There was no way we were on that straight trail for four hours. There was no way we spent four full hours walking around that maze. And when we checked the time the first time, it had only been around 30 minutes, so... Honestly, none of this makes sense. We never talked about it much after that night.

I think we were both just freaked out to the point that talking about it kind of felt pointless. We broke up a few months later for unrelated reasons, but up to the end, it was just a conversation that we never... ever had. I can honestly say that since that night, I have never as much as looked at a corn maze again. If anyone has experienced anything similar at a corn maze, I would love to know because this whole thing really ruined them for me. And, to be honest, it kind of ruined the entire Halloween season for me overall. Hey there, friends. I hope that you enjoyed this collection of scary stories. on this episode of the As the Raven Dreams podcast.

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