As The Raven Dreams Podcast - Scary Stories For Dark Dreams - Volume 01 | ATRD Podcast

Episode Date: June 30, 2024

Today we have more than 2.5 hours of True Horror Stories with a lovely late night ambience. This is part of the "Scary Stories for Dark Dreams" series, which is a collection of stories put together for the sake of sleep or simple background noise. This collection includes The following true scary stories; Retail, Camping, Creepy Kids, Home Alone and Vacation. So, turn down the lights, tune in, and let the haunting tales of everyday people take you down that dark and creepy road. Remember, these aren't just stories... these are true experiences that remind us that our world can truly be scarier than fiction. Support the channel for Early Access AND more! Patreon ➤ https://patreon.com/AsTheRavenDreams Join ➤ https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkW0ihdMHfBUjQrMKjRto6g/join Or Check out the Merch Store! ➤ https://teechip.com/stores/astheravendreams Much Love, and Sleep Well... ----- #TrueScaryStories #AsTheRavenDreams #RedditStories ➤ Stories include a content warning for language and sensitive/disturbing content. Viewer discretion is always advised. ➤ ALL Audio of this Podcast are copyright of AS THE RAVEN DREAMS / RAVEN ADAMS and may not be duplicated, in any format, without explicit permission ➤ If you like any of the following stories, consider subscribing! - Dark Web horror stories, creepy lets not meet stories, stalker stories, Glitch In The Matrix Stories, Unexplained Horror stories, Paranormal stories, cryptid encounter stories, Crazy ex lover stories, creepy neighbor stories, quantum immortality, true scary stories from reddit, or any other True horror Stories! ➤ And Remember; You are loved, you are important, and you are valid. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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Admirate. And profite. Viarai, the voice we love that we love. Hey there, friends. It is your friendly neighborhood, Raven, here. That's right. I wanted to make a special intro for this episode of this podcast. As this collection is going to,

be a little bit different from my normal stuff. This collection will not take the place of anything else that I do. It's going to be in addition to my normal glitch videos in my every week collections, which is like two videos on YouTube worth of content. For those of you who have ever seen my stuff on YouTube, you know that every few weeks I do what I call a sleep or scary stories for sleep collection, which is the scary stories with ambixtap. sounds typically rain in the background on YouTube. I was recently thinking about how I would do that over here for you guys on the podcast side of things so that you all are getting the same content that the YouTube side is getting.

And I kind of thought about it and figured, why not just basically do the same thing? So with this collection, what these stories are going to be. It is going to be compilation-level stories. So stories, you've possibly already heard on the channel in other videos. Videos is the wrong word. Other episodes. And what I'm going to do is collect them in bunches of different stories, different genres, different topics, and put them together in a long-form episode of the podcast with some nice,

night ambient sound in the background. And that's it. There won't be any other sounds. Well, there will be like the in-between, but I'm going to turn it down a lot, so it's a lot quieter, it's very background. And it's just going to be that. Some people may enjoy this as longer form compilation content. Some people may not enjoy this, and that's totally fine. If it's for you, great.

If not, I totally understand. Every Friday will still be an episode or Saturday if I mess up my schedule, which does happen. And every other Tuesday or Wednesday will be the glitch episodes. That's not going to change either. Other compilations, as I do them on YouTube, will get. posted over here to the podcast as well, but I'm just kind of wanting to, I don't know, I guess add value to the podcast, add more for you guys to enjoy. And again, you may have already heard these stories. And if that's a problem for you, then like I said, this probably won't be for you,

but if not, then, well, maybe you'll enjoy this. So, I would tell you to let me know, but there's really no way to do so. If you have suggestions about this, feel free to email me as the Raven and Dreams at gmail.com. You can just send me a message over there. I typically respond. And yeah. As far as advertising, I guess I should mention that too. There will be one mid-roll after the first story.

And that's it. I will not be doing mid-rolls throughout the rest of the video. If this changes, I will notify you guys in an intro. Otherwise, it's going to be the episode starting, the first story, and then one mid roll, one midrull spot right there, and then the rest of the episode. So you're free to use this collection to take a nap, just sit in the darkness and listen to my voice, I suppose, or just as background noise for whatever you're doing.

Again, if you all don't enjoy this, that's totally fine. It's just something I want to try, and if you guys like it, great, if not, well, that's, like I said, totally fine. So all that said, friends, I hope you do enjoy. And I hope I do see you again here very soon. But until then, much love and sleep well. Hey, Raven, all of your recent nature and outdoor videos made me want to share something that I experienced with my boyfriend at the time. He's now my ex.

This happened back in the early 2000s, so forgive me if I'm missing some pieces. So my ex, we'll call him Keith, and I were planning a small road trip. At night we planned to stop at places that we could either sleep in my car, because I had a Jeep, or in a tent. That way we saved money on hotels. To be honest, the trip itself started out fine. We were far from professional when it came to camping, which we proved every time that, we'd struggled to put up the tent.

We got better towards the end, as it just became a routine for us, and I may have kept certain rods together, but it all worked out in the end. There was a campsite that he specifically wanted to check out. It had a really big lake, and you could bring your own boat, or even rent a small fishing or paddle boat. I thought that the idea sounded fun at the time.

As we arrived at the campground, it became evident that this place was not the same place that we saw in the pictures and reviews. The booth where you buy a parking ticket was replaced by a rundown automated machine. As Keith fidgeted to get the machine to work, I looked around and noticed just how neglected this place had become. The road was cracked in many places, there were overgrown vines hugging the signs, and there was no. no sign of others in the entrance. And even though I was seeing a whole lot of nothing, something was definitely feeling off. Once Keith finally got the machine to work, we went through the gate, driving through to find a good spot to stay. Good news, as we drove up the path, we finally came across some people.

Bad news, they did not make me feel better about the situation. We were driving very slowly as we discussed where we wanted to set up camp and drove past a woman. We both looked over at her, but I watched her as her head moved, following us all the way up the road and around the curve. She looked like she was trying to intimidate us, like we would have probably been in trouble if we stopped there by her. As Keith kept driving, I explained how creeped out that she made me. He laughed at my statement,

teasing me for being scared of some old woman. I really didn't think she was that old, and it wasn't that I was afraid of her. It was her stance. The way she watched us as we drove by, like she was threatening us with her eyes. I don't know how to explain it. Basically, he reassured me that it was probably just someone being nosy or mad,

thinking they would have to share the area with some strangers. I let it go as he said he wanted to go further in anyways, and possibly get closer to the boat docks. We followed some signs to the lake, and that's when we learned that the building where you would get a rental was all locked up. We couldn't tell if it was permanent, or if there just wasn't anyone available at the time, so we instead tried to find a place for us to stay. Thankfully, there was a plot nearby with no one else in the area, that we quickly claimed to stay, steak on. We set up our tent and even cooked some brats on a nearby grill. While we were cooking, we saw a van slowly drive by us, and when they got to our plot, they slowed down to a crawl.

They had their windows down and we could easily see two bald guys up front. The one in the passenger side was nearly hanging out the window looking at us and smiling. Keith, being the genius he was, just greeted them and, without responding, they kept on going up the path, until we could no longer see them. It put me on edge, making me feel like we were being watched like zoo animals. I remembered asking Keith why he reacted that way, and he said that he was just trying to show them that he wasn't afraid or intimidated by them. Maybe it's just me, but I would have rather stayed in the background instead of drawing attention to us. Again, I was a little uncomfortable, but I did my best to let it go and try to have fun still. After eating, we walked over to the docks to check out the water, even though we didn't have a boat.

We took our shoes off and went in the water up to our knees. We reached in and pulled out a few rocks and shells that looked pretty cool, so we took them back to our tent. Despite the eerie atmosphere in the beginning, it was actually turning out to the air. to be a pretty good time. That was until we went to bed. We were already in the tent and asleep at this point, when we were jolted awake by a loud, horrifying sound that echoed through the campground. It sounded like something metal being scraped along concrete.

This time, I wasn't the only one startled by the sound. Keith was sitting up, bug-eyed, looking just as scared. I whispered to him, what the hell is that? I don't know if he was trying to fake it, or if he really didn't care, but he rubbed his face, as he quietly said, I don't know, it's probably just a deer. I don't know of any deer that sounds like that,

or what part of the deer that sound could even be coming from. I pointed this out to him, obviously irritated, and so he changed his assumption, saying it was probably just some reason. rowdy and inconsiderate campers. As I continued to listen, I could at least agree with him that it was probably a person,

and maybe they were purposely doing it to scare us. We stayed sitting upright, listening until the sound finally stopped, and we didn't hear it again. Keith sighed, thankfully saying that it was over, so that we should go back to sleep

and then he quickly laid back down. I tried to lay back down myself and fall asleep, but at that point, I was fully awake. I don't know how long it took, but I finally did start drifting off, focusing on all the sounds around me. That was until I started hearing more noises. This time, it sounded like whispering. I laid still trying to listen, hoping that I could make out what was being said. I never could, but it still freaked me out, so I... I woke up Keith.

I told him that someone was by our tent, and he said something half-awake about it being the wind. I argued with him that I knew the difference, and that I needed him to go with me, as I was too afraid to check alone. He told me to take his knife in his bag, and he refused to get up. Helpful.

I grabbed the knife and a flashlight, and slowly unzipped the tent, sticking my head out. I didn't immediately see anyone around, so I stepped out and walked over to our once smoldering fire. My stomach dropped. There were beer bottles all around. Neither of us brought beer because we didn't drink. And then I saw the two headless carcasses.

I think that they were rabbits, but it was hard to tell. Obviously I was mentally screaming and freaking out. Someone had obviously been there so close to our tent while we were vulnerable and sleeping. I was thankful that we were okay and that we kept everything either in our tent or car, so nothing was taken, at least by my initial scan. Our car was still there. I calmly, but quickly, went back to the tent and I shook Heath awake. I told him what I saw and he still took.

didn't seem worried about it, saying people were obviously trying to scare us. So, I lied. I told him that I saw someone run into the trees. This made him finally get up, but he still didn't look nearly as terrified as I was. Maybe he actually was, and was just good at hiding it. But I doubted it. We'd been together for three years, and I could easily read him. He walked out, and when he saw the animals, he started gagging.

I finally got him to see my side of things, and we agreed to leave. We quickly packed up, and threw the barely collapsed tent in the back, carefully driving away. We did a quick once over of the Jeep to make sure that there wasn't anything suspicious or dangerous. I kept getting that feeling like we were being watched, so I kept looking out all of the windows and mirrors as he drove. But of course, the creepiness couldn't end there. As we approached the entrance, waiting to turn out, I saw a figure standing by the campground maps.

He was holding something. Something that looked like a bat or a baton. Once we were finally out of there, I breathed a sigh of relief, and told Keith what I saw and how absolutely backwood's scary movie everything we witnessed was. I could tell that he was concerned too, but he said that it wasn't as bad as I was making it out to be, instantly putting me in a worse mood. We found a hotel a few miles away and slept in my car in their parking lot right under a light. I was finally able to sleep behind a locked door and felt much better. The rest of the trip was nothing like that, thankfully.

Keith and I are no longer together, but we are okay friends. I've brought it up a few times around him and he still plays it off like I was overreacting. No wonder we didn't work out. I haven't gone camping since, and yes, that experience is definitely part of the reason. It causes a bit of a panic attack for me to think about it, but I know that I need to move on and possibly try again. I still don't even know if those people were really just messing with us, wanting to scare us, or just being jerks. But there's still the possibility that they were planning something more sinister. I'm sure if I go with someone who trusts me more, it'll be a much better time, but...

Until then, I'll just be staying in a hotel. So, I wanted to tell you about my niece, so... She's your average four-year-old girl, all sunshine and giggles, loves unicorns and anything pink. She has a healthy obsession with her dolls, really nothing too terribly out of the ordinary. She loves spending time with Aunt Marie. That's me. And I adore her, so we've had a really good relationship from day one. Well, one weekend my sister and her husband wanted to take a little road to.

trip, a sort of mini vacation, if you will. They asked me if I was willing to let Sophie stay at my place for the weekend, since they were going to be going to an event that they couldn't bring her to, and I was more than happy to do it, having a soft spot for the kiddo. So, Friday night came around, and my brother brought her over with her stuff, told me that she was excited about the whole thing, and after a bit of chatting, they thanked me and headed off. That first night was a blast. We had ice cream, played with her dolls, watched a bunch of cartoons, and played Mario on the Wii for way too long, the whole nine yards.

It wasn't until that next morning that things took a bit of a turn for the weird. We were having breakfast, when Sophie suddenly looked up from her waffle and said, there's a man outside I almost choked in my food and asked her what she meant from where she was she couldn't even see outside she turned and pointed to the sliding glass door in my backyard and said outside keep in mind I live in a small apartment complex

and the only thing outside was my small patio area and then a street with some businesses on it I walked over to the door and looked out into the back area, but there was literally no one there. I reassured her that there wasn't anyone out there, and that she may have just thought that there was a man outside. But she was insistent. He's out there. He's standing by that tree. Her voice was dead serious.

I looked again, straining my eyes to make out anything. There were trees out there. about a hundred yards away or so, but I saw no sign of any person. I told her that there was no one out there, and told her to go back to eat her waffles. As the day went on, she would not let it go. When she would get up to go to the bathroom, she would pause and look out the slider. She would giggle as she looked out and then go about her business. One time she told me that,

he's still out there, and he's not going away, almost in a sing-song way. The cheerfulness had faded from her eyes, replaced by this strange seriousness. I tried to distract her, putting on her favorite show, offering to play Mario Party with her, asking to play with her dolls, but she would not shake off this uneasy mood that she seemed to have plastered on her face. I ended up just letting her go through the motions, thinking that she would get past it as time went on. I'm not a parent, and I don't know if this is a thing that kids do, so I really didn't know.

She ended up asking me if we could just go to bed early, and I was all for it. I put her to bed, and then I went to bed myself, but I couldn't sleep. Every little sound made me jump. I kept looking out the window damn near expecting to see a man lurking in the shadows. I never saw anyone, but that almost made it worse. In the morning, I walked into the living room to see if Sophie was awake,

and I was surprised to see her sitting on the living room floor. All of her dolls spread out in front of her. She wasn't playing with them. She was just sitting there with them and staring out the back door towards where she claimed the man was. He's gone now, she said. She almost sounded relieved. He said that he'll come back later.

While I was glad that she seemed relieved and had gotten through whatever that stoic mood was, that last statement about him coming back later was unsettling to say the least. I had to worry about him watching the house, and now I had to worry about him coming back. The rest of that day I had a bit of an uneasy feeling, but Sophie seemed like she had gotten back to her normal, cheerful, and bubbly self. Almost as if nothing had ever happened.

She went back to playing with her dolls and was all smiles and sunshine, just like normal. The rest of the day was great, and my brother came around that evening to pick her up. I asked him if she had ever mentioned a man watching the house. over at their place, and she hadn't. Apparently this was a new thing that she had done, and she had only ever mentioned it at my place, which did not help me feel any better. But, in the end, Sophie never mentioned the man again.

Not for the rest of that weekend, and not in the six months since this has happened. She hasn't mentioned him, that night, how she felt, or literally anything about it since. The look that she had, though, and the way that she was so very certain that there was a man outside, that he was watching the house, I don't know if it was her imagination,

or if she really saw something outside. What do you think? Was this something more than a little girl's imagination? Either way, I will say that I have never been. never been so creeped out in my life. In 2018, my girlfriend and I planned a fun and romantic camping slash road trip. We actually met on a group hiking trip that we both ended up on, so hiking and camping had always had a special meaning to us. This trip would be just as important. I was planning on proposing to her. I talked to my dad about it because I wanted to go to the

same park slash campsite that he had taken me to as a kid, and he gave me directions and reminded me of the name of the place. I remembered how fun and peaceful it was, and I knew that I wanted to propose to Haley there. So, we laid out our plans with that campground being our first stop. I told Haley it was a good memory from my childhood and that I wanted to visit it. She understood and agreed, being none the wiser. The day of our trip came, and we set out early to beat the traffic. We lived out of state, and the trip was going to end back up in our home state, hopefully being able to share the good news with both of our families,

and then we would just have the drive back home. We only had one thing planned for our return drive, so it was going to be a more relaxed and unscheduled drive. Anyways, the trip started our drive. off great. We visited a national park, climbed some rock walls, and rode horses. We tried a few local diners and met some pretty cool people along the way. Then it was the day for us to drive to the park where my plans were really going to take place. What I didn't account for was the thunderstorm that would be happening on our way there. Camping would not be an issue for us.

We prepared by bringing some waterproofing stuff, knowing that's the nature of our home state, but you can never really account for how others will react in stormy weather. Everyone was driving either way too slow or way too fast, and they would splash water at us, almost making us hydroplane at times. There were multiple accidents on the shoulders, and traffic was being redirected so much that it was just becoming a mess. We ended up getting off the highway, and, for the most part, having better luck on backroads.

It was getting pretty late, but we finally arrived at the park, and it had stopped raining. We'd stopped somewhere close by for food, neither of us wanting to make anything that night, so we got there on a full stomach, ready to set up our tent. We ended up just chilling in our tent that night,

talking and reading until we both fell asleep. When the morning came, I woke up before Haley and started making us breakfast. After she woke up and we ate, we took some time to relax and prepare for our hike that day. When we set off, she was expecting to see new trails and hear stories from my childhood, I'm sure. I, on the other hand, was on a mission to find the perfect spot to propose.

As the day was reaching its end, we made our way back to our camp to have dinner, and again relax for the night. night. I made sure to find a spot for us that was a bit more secluded so that no one else was around. But nothing was sacrificed for our privacy, as the site was still beautiful. Being surrounded by the tall trees, that night was honestly perfect. We had a fire going. It was actually a bit chilly as the storm had dropped the temperatures drastically. Haley stayed close by, as we took to talked and listened to the crickets chirping and the occasional owl hooting, and the rustling of

the leaves in that same cool breeze. We relished in each other's company, and I knew that this would be perfect. I went to grab the small box from my bag in our tent, claiming that I needed something, but as I came out, I noticed a few things. The first thing was the confused look on Haley's face. I cocked my head to the side about to ask her what was wrong when she made a motion with her hands to listen. I didn't hear anything. She said that was the problem. The park had fallen eerily silent. There wasn't a single chirp, hoots, or even the sound of leaves and wind. It was as if nature itself had paused. At first we tried to play it off as things being weird, but animals and insects can sense things,

and maybe they could sense a threat. It could have easily been something bigger than them in the area, I didn't personally feel unsafe at this point, as we had ways to protect ourselves, such as bear mace. But the feeling I couldn't shake was the feeling of being watched by some unknown presence. I asked Haley about it, and she agreed, saying that something definitely didn't feel right. We both started looking around to see if we could spot someone or something,

and it finally caught my eye. Across from our little setup, across from the trail, I could see the shadow of a figure in the trees. I didn't want to startle them and cause them to come running out towards me, so I calmly asked Haley if she saw it too, and she nodded. I continued to stare at it, trying to figure out the best course of action. I still had the mace on me, so I pulled it off my clip and I held it,

as I kind of greeted the shadow. I know it sounds dumb, but I didn't know what else to do. When they didn't budge, I walked a little closer to it, hoping to make out what it was that I was seeing. I still couldn't make out any details, but I could tell. tell that the shadow was very short. It looked like something that was on all fours, so it had to be some kind of animal, I thought.

With this in mind, I thought that I could just scare it off, simple enough. My first attempt was to be as big and loud as possible, so I shouted and waved my arms. Now, all I saw up to this point was the dark figure. What I saw after, I started shouting. was the glowing eyes that were now looking in our direction. There was no light reaching that thing from our side, so how were the eyes glowing? Now getting a little unnerved, I wanted to try harder to get them to leave,

so I picked up a large nearby rock and chucked it at the thing. I started screaming again, walking a little more towards it, but keeping my car as separating us. You could tell the thing's eyes shifted downward, but then right back up towards me. This thing was not scared, but I was certainly getting there. I was just about to direct Haley into the car, unsure of what this thing was and how dangerous it could be. I just knew that I would feel safer with us behind a metal barrier. As I turned to direct her to get in, I started getting this overwhelming feeling of dread, and I became horribly nauseous. Haley noticed, and she came to my side asking me what

was wrong. I told her that whatever that thing is, it was not safe, and told her to get into the car. She quickly got in, and without turning my back to that thing, I got in the driver's side and locked the doors. Knowing we were safe, I wanted to try to shine some light on this thing and figure out what it was. It was late enough that I didn't expect anyone to be coming up the path, so I thought I would try to do a sort of K-turn to face my headlights at this thing. However, as soon as I started my car, the thing started moving. We both froze as we watched to see where it would go,

but watching this thing only gave us more unanswered questions and creeped us out even more. We watched as it walked between the trees, heading down towards the way that my car was pointing. We caught glimpses of it as the moonlight hit it, and I was shocked by what we saw. It looked like a kid. It was walking on two legs, but was very short and small in stature. It had on either a hospital gown or maybe some old-looking dress, and it had long, unkempt dark hair. The part that took this back from shocking to unsettling was the way that they were walking. It looked wholly unnatural.

The movements were jagged and hard, almost like they didn't understand how knees worked or how to walk. It looked absolutely terrifying. I could tell that it scared Haley, too, as I noticed her hand tightly gripping my arm. We continued to watch as it walked through the trees and down to the other side of the hill until it was completely out of view. Once we couldn't see it anymore, the overwhelming presence and sickness feeling led up, and I felt like myself again, as well as relieved. We both agreed to sleep in the car instead, but we still needed to put out the fire.

I agreed to do it alone, but she demanded to go with me. When we got out of the car, the sound we once heard had come back. The breeze was there, and the crickets were right back at it, too. I really feel like they knew something wasn't right either. The next morning, everything was back to normal. There was nothing weird going on, and we both felt fine. We briefly recounted what we saw that night, and definitely agreed that in case it was an actual child.

We should at least report it. We weren't planning on staying another night, so we packed up and drove to the front to tell a ranger what we saw that night. He seemed skeptical, but after showing him the area, he said he would look into it. Maybe I could have done more that night, but at the same time, that feeling was telling me not to approach it. I don't know what we witnessed that night, but I had never seen anything like. it and I hope that I never do again. Oh, and in case anyone is interested, we stopped at a cute little man-made waterfall that a lot of people took photos at. It was part of that particular city's charm, and since my plans were a little skewed, that's where I proposed.

And she said yes, so, overall, still worth it. Back when I was around 16, my parents wanted to get out of the house and take a vacation for their 20th anniversary. They toyed with the idea of taking me with them, but I mentioned that, being 16, I could handle myself for a couple of days, and that they should just go take their vacation and enjoy their time together. They were a bit hesitant at first, but I pushed them into it. I didn't have any plans on doing anything crazy. I just wanted some time to myself more than anything. So, I was happy when they said that they would let me stay home.

The house was in a good neighborhood, one that had pretty much zero crime or issues. So, there wasn't anything that I was worried about at all. It was a rarity to have some time alone, so I was taking this opportunity to, work on my culinary skills. I decided that I wanted spaghetti, and yes, it was a challenge for 16-year-old me. I was straining the pasta and stirring the sauce and was happy that I had somehow managed to not burn everything

when there was a very loud knock on the door. I was a bit confused. I wasn't expecting anybody. My parents hadn't told me anyone was coming over, I thought that it might have been a friend of mine from school, but the knocking was very heavy and loud. So it wasn't likely. I thought that it might have been maybe a delivery person or something like that, so I figured I could just ignore it and get back to my culinary masterpiece. I had just added the pasta back to the pot and poured the sauce over it.

when I heard the loud banging on the door again. When I glanced over at the door, I saw what looked like someone walking past the front window, and saw what looked like police lights out on the street. This completely changed my thought process. The loud banging was probably an officer at my door, and I probably shouldn't ignore them. My mind went to why they were there,

and for some reason I immediately thought about the possibility of my parents having gotten into an accident I turned off the stove and quickly stepped over to the door what happened next happened very

quickly and I want to say that it was probably only a couple of seconds but it felt like it was moving in slow motion I unlocked the door and went to open it half expecting the officer to tell me that my parents were dead.

But as soon as I had opened the door, I was met with the business end of an automatic rifle, and numerous men screaming at me to put my hands up, to get down on the ground, and to not move. My mind was rushing, incredibly confused on how I was supposed to put my hands up and get on the ground without moving. But I ended up just putting my hands up and getting on my knees

as quickly as I could, thinking I was about to be shot. I had no idea what was going on, why they were pointing guns at me, why they were even there, and I'm pretty sure that I started bawling immediately. One of the officers grabbed my hands and pulled them behind my back, and then pulled me away from the door, while the other officers, the ones with the bigger guns, pushed into the house and started shouting. I was so confused. But the officer pulled me over to his car and put me in his back seat, and then started to explain things to me. He asked me for my name, how old I was, what was going on, etc. I told him all I could, that I was 16, that I was making dinner and

that I didn't know why they were there. He then asked me who else was in the house, and I told him no one. I told him that my parents were out of town for the weekend and that I was just home making spaghetti. And at this point, I know for a fact that I was bawling. He tried to call me down, and after the SWAT team had cleared the house, they came out and one of them decided to talk to me some more. He told me that they had gotten a call, saying that there were two men that had broken into the house, and that they were holding the family in the house hostage, and that these men had already killed the children. He was very thorough with the details about what they were told. I told him that none of that had happened, that it was just me, and that I was making dinner for myself. This was

such a terrifying and confusing situation, and they had me call my parents so that they could talk to them. They confirmed the information that I had given them, and then they explained what had happened. Come to find out, for some reason, completely unknown to myself and my parents, I was swatted. Someone had called in a swat on my house, telling them about these murderous guys that never existed, and what their overall goal was is anyone's guess. The whole situation is one that I will never forget. I will never get rid of the visuals of having multiple guns pointed at me,

get the sound of their screaming at me out of my head. If any of those officers had had an itchy trigger finger, gotten the wrong idea about me or my actions, I honestly could have died. I am grateful that nothing went wrong, that they handled it correctly, but it doesn't make it any less terrifying. I have a story that happened to me back in the mid-90s.

I was a pimple-faced 19-year-old college kid, trying to figure out what I was doing with my life, and at the time I was working at a medium-sized department store, one that doesn't really exist anymore, that rhymed with the word cheers. The store was outdated. even back in the 90s, and those of us that worked registers and customer service

were severely limited on what we could do for customers. And honestly, I hated that job, so I wasn't very willing to go above and beyond for people. The day that it happened, it was a pretty normal day. I clocked in at 8, and was assigned to the customer service desk, and was then immediately told that we were short that day, and that I was going to be working the desk the entire eight hours, and that there was only the one manager,

so to not even bother calling for a CSM. That's customer service manager for those that don't know. I don't remember what I was doing at that exact moment, but a customer walked over to the desk, a burly and rugged-looking dude with hair that looked like an absolute mess, and an incredibly sourd, look on his face.

I asked him how I could help him, and he pulled a pair of sneakers from a plastic bag and slammed them down on the counter, saying, I want to return these. These shoes were gross, and I'm not even sure that we sold them at my store. I started the shoes for a moment and then looked back at the man, and asked if he'd had a receipt for them.

That's where things started to take a turn for the worse. He aggressively said, Hell no, I don't have the receipt. I explained as politely as I could that I couldn't process the return unless he had the receipt for them. I wasn't lying. There was literally nothing that I could do without the information on the transaction. Nowadays, stores can track your purchases in other ways,

but back then, it was receipt, or you were S-O-L. The man started shouting at me, causing another customer that was in line to flinch and look a bit panicked. You're going to take him back, one way or another. I told him again that there was literally nothing that I could do at all to process their return unless he had a receipt. I tried to keep myself calm and tried to not match his hostility or volume, but he was starting to throw a tantrum. It was unnerving. He was screaming at the top of his lungs about how he needed the money, and that he had just bought the shoes there the day before.

Which, no, he did not, unless he had bought them and then ran several miles through mud and wet concrete. He finally wrapped up his fit by pointing a finger right in my face and yelling, You're going to regret this! He then turned and stormed out of the store, leaving the gross shoes on the counter. I wrapped them in a plastic bag and placed them behind the counter just in case he came back for them. I was a bit shaken by the end of that, but I was relieved that he decided to just threaten me and leave,

instead of taking action. The rest of the day passed pretty quickly and without incident. I moved on from the crazy shoe man and just continued helping others with their returns and whatnot. It was reaching towards the end of my shift, and I was tiredly doing what I needed to do, just looking forward to being able to going home. When I heard a loud smashing sound, followed by the screams of shocked customers. This was followed by the visual of smoke starting to billow through the aisles, and the air starting to slowly get warmer. I rushed toward the sound with my heart pounding, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Near the front of the store, there was a blazing fire starting to spread, and it was very quickly burning its path into some of the merchandise.

The fire alarm was going off, and people were running out the front door to get away from the blaze. I ran back to the counter and grabbed the fire extinguisher, and I tried my best to douse the fire with the foam, but it didn't do jack. Every bit that I put out was replaced with fire catching on more and more of the shelves and clothing until the extinguisher eventually sputtered out. I stood there for a second and watched as this fire just covered more and more of the floor. And for some reason I felt like I needed to do something to stop it, but was quickly brought back to reality when I heard my manager shouting my name and yelling at me to get out of the building.

I did what she said, and I ran over to the front door and started ushering customers out of the building, telling them to get as far away as they could and to stay calm. Thankfully, the fire department arrived quickly, and they were on it. They moved in as fast as they could, blasted the whole thing with water, and, after a little while, they were able to get the fire put out, and get the whole thing contained and secured. After they had finished their job, my manager and I went back in, and the store was an absolute disaster. Everything in the store was either charred or completely saturated. The police had arrived and started asking my manager some questions, mostly because the fire looked incredibly suspicious, having started in the clothing section. We all went to the back where the camera system was, probably the only thing in the store,

that wasn't antiquated. All of us watched the entryway camera for when this all started, and much to my surprise, I watched as the man from earlier that wanted to return his shoes, walked in the door, lit a cloth that was in a glass bottle, and heaved it as hard as he could into the store, and then bolted back out into the parking lot. This guy had come back with a damn Molotov, and threw it in an occupied. hide store, because I wouldn't accept his dirty shoes. I told the officers about the encounter, I told them that he was going off on me and that he had threatened me a few hours before.

They took my statement, took the camera footage from earlier, and the footage that showed him throwing the Molotov, and left to further their search. Thankfully, they didn't have to go very far. This guy was hiding out at the eye-house. hop next door to the store. Before they left, they were flagged down by one of the waiters that was outside of the restaurant. He told them that just after the fire had started, a guy came into the restaurant reeking of gasoline and said that he wanted a table in the corner. Apparently the guy was just sitting in the eye hop, watching the chaos unfold through the window,

and giggling to himself. Worse yet, he was still there when the cops went in. They approached him. He started yelling that he had been there for the last two hours, and that he had nothing to do with it. Of course, he was wearing the same clothes, and still smelled of gasoline, so they knew that it was him. In the end, he was hauled off and charged with some pretty serious stuff.

He caused thousands of dollars in damage, and our store was shut down for quite a while. I took that time to find a job at a warehouse, because that was the last day that I wanted to work with people, and, to be honest, I haven't worked retail ever since. I used to work the late shift for a drug store that was open until one in the morning, and I hated every second of it.

It was not a fun job, but, It paid my bills and kept me fed, so despite disliking it, I did it for several years. My duties were super simple. Run the register, help the customers, stock the shelves. Nothing too crazy. Well, minus the photo desk. We all hated the photo desk. One night, I was sitting behind my register helping people check out and yawning every three or four minutes.

because I was tired as all get out. I remember my manager Phil came over to me and told me that he needed me for a second, which was never a good thing. Phil was a gruff guy, super monotone and emotionless, but he was an okay manager. Usually when he said he needed to talk to someone, it was to reprimand them, and I assumed he was going to get on to me for yawning or something, but he didn't. He pointed toward the wall mirrors

where we could see a young woman standing. She was small, probably not even five foot, and thinner than what I would say is healthy. I watched her in the mirrors and noticed that something definitely seemed off. She was a bit too twitchy, if that makes sense. He made a comment about keeping an eye on her because he had a bad feeling.

I tried to act casual as I watched her, glancing over at her, sneaking quick looks to see if I could catch her doing something. She seemed incredibly nervous, and was darting around to different aisles, seemingly at random, doing her best to keep her back to us. Phil was definitely right. Something was up. A few minutes later, the woman made her way over to my register, holding nothing more than a two-liter of Pepsi. I stared at the soda and then looked at her. Her hair was wiry and her eyes looked nothing short of empty. She had very dark circles around them. She looked more tired than I did.

Before I finished ringing up her one item, Phil walked out of one of the aisles and approached the woman with his arms crossed. He said, Hey, I saw you put that makeup in your pocket. You need to either pay for it. for it or leave it on the counter. I remember that his voice was loud, and it echoed, which is probably the most emotive I had literally ever seen Phil.

Instantly, things turned from mundane to absolute chaos. The woman shook her head and no at him aggressively. Phil reached his arm out to grab her bag. Admittedly, this is something that we were told not to do, but Phil was my manager, and I wasn't going to tell him to stop. As soon as he reached his arm out, this woman lunged at him

and sank her teeth straight into his forearm. Phil screamed in pain and surprise, trying to pull his arm back, but she kept her grip on him for several more seconds. She then released him, let out what I can only call the bone-chilling screech, and bolted out the door into the darkness. Phil staggered back, clutching his now bleeding arm and staring at me like,

What the hell was that? It was a gruesome sight. He was bleeding really bad, and you could clearly see the imprint of her teeth. I remember that I started feeling nauseous while staring at him. I called 911 immediately. My hands were shaking so much that I almost dropped the phone. The paramedics arrived in only a few minutes, and they rushed over to Phil, to wrap his arm to stop the bleeding, and they said that they needed to get him checked out and tested

because there was a chance that she could have given him a disease. The police also arrived, asking me what happened. I almost wanted to tell them that Phil was bitten by Patient Zero and that we were about to witness the damn zombie apocalypse. That's how surreal it all felt. Honestly, who expects a woman to bite someone over some stolen drugstore makeup? They took a look around, made some notes, asked about camera footage, and all that, but I think they were as baffled as I was about this whole thing. Phil ended up needing stitches to patch his arm up,

and I'm sure they had to give him a rabies shot, too, just in case. Poor guy was incredibly shaken up about the whole thing. incident, but can you blame him? After that night, he was a lot nicer to people, which I guess is the silver lining to having your arm ripped into by some crazy woman. And me, I was left with a creepy story and a new disdain for the night shift. Oh, and I avoided the cosmetic aisle at all costs just in case. And though I've moved on from that job, the memory of that night, the visual of her latching onto him, and that horrifying screech that she let out before running away, it all still sends major shivers down my spine.

There was a point in time where I was what you would consider homeless, and I was forced to move in with my cousin for a while just so I had a roof over my head. It wasn't ideal. I didn't want to do it, but... They were willing to offer me their spare bedroom downstairs, and as long as I helped out around the house, and occasionally watched their son Jonah, I could stay with them until I got back on my feet. I was super appreciative that they were willing to help me, and I was willing to do anything they needed me to do for them, which, for the most part, was just me watching Jonah while they worked or went out. But I didn't mind. I liked Jonah.

He was a smart kid, and he was pretty self-sufficient for a five-year-old. One thing to know about Jonah is that he had a bit of a weird fascination with clocks. He would sit and watch a clock ticking for hours on end. Something that I thought was kind of funny, but eventually started to seem a bit unsettling. I didn't know if there was something up with him, but he had this really strange obsession with analog clocks. To the point that he had his own grandfather clock, ironically, a gift from his grandfather.

Maybe that's where the obsession stemmed from. I know that he was super close with my uncle before he passed away, and that clock was his, so maybe the attachment led to the obsession. I don't know. It was one of those big grandfather clocks that had the pen. pendulum, and you could hear it tick slightly every swing. It was neat, but not worth staring at for long periods of time. One evening, while I was watching Jonah, after my cousin and his wife went out,

Jonah abruptly stood up from our game and ran to his bedroom. I was a bit confused and concerned, so I got up and followed him, and I found him staring intently at the clock. He was reaching out towards the hands but was too short to grab them, and the hands on the clock were at exactly 8.20 p.m. Just something to note. I asked him what was wrong, if everything was okay, and he responded with,

Time is sad. It's always running away. It wants to stay, but it can't. I got that weird chill down my spine when, someone says something incredibly creepy yet profound, and you honestly have no idea as to why. It was a weird thing for a five-year-old to say, right? I laughed it off awkwardly and said something like,

Time can't feel, buddy, it's not a person. And he stared at me with his eyes filled with tears like I'd kicked his puppy or something. He just shook his head and said, You'll understand someday. The next night, he ran upstairs again to stare at the clock. Remember when I mentioned the time, 8.20 p.m.? Yep, it was exactly 8.20 p.m. again. I followed him up, looked at the clock, looked at him, and asked if it was the same thing.

He just scoffed again and said, You still don't understand? I told him that I didn't, and he seemed so disappointed in me. There's nothing more disheartening than a five-year-old being disappointed in you for something that you can't understand at all. This became a frequent ritual for him. On nights when his parents weren't home, he would run upstairs to stare at the clock for a few moments,

and it was always at 8.20 p.m. He would always have the same room. reason. Time was sad that it couldn't stay. When I finally realized that he was only doing it on nights that his parents weren't home, I decided to see if I could get some information from them about it. I mentioned how he would always run up to the clock and how he would make the comments about time being sad, and they were as perplexed as I was. They knew that he loved the clock, and they'd known that he'd seemed a bit weirdly obsessed with it. But, but... neither of them had witnessed this behavior.

I asked them if 8.20 was of some significance, as that was the time that he would always do it. My cousin's wife turned pale, like something had clicked. She told me that Jonah was born at 8.20 p.m. on the dot. Not a minute earlier, not a minute later. She even pulled out his birth certificate to show me, and sure enough, it said 8.20 p.m. on the dot. 8.20 p.m. This was a really weird coincidence to have to deal with, and I kind of hit a wall with it, thinking it was just a quirky thing that he did, and that there was no way it had any connection

to his time of birth. As time went on, Jonah's obsession with the clock kind of faded. He kept it, but his whole ritual with running up and being sad with time ended whenever he turned six. It was as if it never happened, and he never did it again. He doesn't remember any of this anymore, unfortunately. He's now 16, and he has zero recollection of his obsession with 8.20 p.m. and the clock. Now, it's just something that I tease him about.

But back then, there was something about the whole thing that just sent shivers down my spine. I used to work in one of those big department stores back in the mid-2010s. I stocked shelves and sometimes had to work in the front, but I was mostly assigned with processing returns and doing the overnight stocking. While it was mostly uneventful, there is one event that I have never been able to forget, mostly because I have no idea how it turned out, and it was seriously kind of creepy. This happened when I was part of the crew that was doing inventory.

I don't know if you've ever worked an inventory for a retail location, but it is hell. You have to spend way too much time literally counting items on shelves. Every little item on every single shelf has to be counted and tallied, so that the store knows how much of what they have, and they can further decide if certain departments have issues with them. theft. I had to do the inventory of the toy section of the store, which, again, is full of small items. So my brain was feeling a bit burned out. Every Lego, every little blind box, every single hot wheel. As I reached up to grab one of the items from one of the top shelves,

my hand accidentally knocked down a plush bear. I instinctually went to catch it, but fumbled it, and it fell straight to the floor, but instead of that soft, flump sound that you would expect, it made a bit of a hard thud. Weird, right? It was a basic stuffed bear. There was nothing inside of it but fluff, and yet it made a hard sound as if it was heavy. I picked it up, and it was heavier than I anticipated. Something about it was definitely off.

I looked closer at the bear trying to figure out what exactly was off about him when I noticed something unusual about his eyes. One of them was pretty standard, but the other one was different. It looked like it had a hole in it that was shiny and reflective. After a moment of looking at it closely, it clicked. That weird eye? It wasn't just an eye. The hole was for a lens.

the lens of a small, hidden camera, recording everything. I dropped the bear like it was going to burst into flames. My heart was pounding as I thought about the possibilities. Who puts a camera in a toy bear? Why was it recording? How did they get it into the store like that? And most importantly, what had it seen? I grabbed it and immediately took it to my manager's office.

trying to keep my composure. I explained to him that there was a camera in the bear, and at first he didn't believe me, but when I handed it to him and he looked it over, his face turned from confusion to shock. He found it hard to believe, but the more that he examined it, it really did click. He grabbed a letter opener from his desk

and pulled the threads off of the head of the bear, and, sure enough, there was a camera that was attached to the inside, side of the bear's head. He contacted the authorities, and an officer showed up to ask what was going on. We explained that it looked like someone had snuck a hidden camera into the store, and that it was in an item that was on the shelf to be sold. I think that's the part that bothered me the most. This camera was in a product that someone could have taken home and given to their child. I don't know if the camera had any sort of remote connection or something.

I know literally nothing about technology like that, but just the possibility put a knot in my stomach. They took the bear, and we had to pause inventory on the toy section so that we could check all of the other stuffed animals and see if any of them had a camera. But that was the only one, thankfully. There was obviously the concern that we could have sold one that had a camera, and I'm sure the store went through the proper channels for that, contacting customers and whatnot, but I don't know whatever came of it.

Maybe it was just a sick prank, but there's a possibility that this was some creep trying to get a camera into someone's home. Obviously there was a bit of tension at work when I had to continue doing my inventory on the toy section. I kept looking at the stuffed animals and thinking about it because it really bothered me. Even now, all these years later, I actually cannot stand the sight of teddy bears, as they always remind me of that night.

I have a creepy encounter that I had when I was home alone one evening, back when I was in my early twenties. This was a while back, back when Halo 2 had just come out, if that tells you anything. And I was playing through the campaign for my second time, taking it. out the covenant forces like a true Spartan. I lived in a duplex by myself, one that was situated in a cul-de-sac, so we didn't get much in ways of foot traffic. I liked it. I kind of miss living there because of how quiet it was.

Things ended up going sour with the rental company, so I don't live there anymore, but it's not really relevant to the story. Anyways, I was just playing my game when I heard a knock on the front door. I'm slightly annoyed by the interruption. I hit pause and went to open the door, assuming it was my connected neighbor coming over to ask me something, or maybe a salesperson. I opened the door and come face to face with this gruffy, older-looking guy.

His unkempt beard and worn-out clothing gave me a bit of an uneasy feeling. I'd never seen this guy before, and he had no reason to be on my front porch. This guy looked at me with a slight smirk and said, Hey, are you Dan? Now, I am, Dan, but I couldn't fathom how this stranger could know my name. I confirmed that I am indeed, Dan, and he hit me with a strange request. Awesome. Hey, I need a ride to work.

I was taken aback because I didn't recognize him from literally anywhere and I've never had some kind of arrangement with anyone to take them to work confused I asked him how he knew me and why he thought I was going to drive him to work the guy then says I was talking to Shannon earlier she said you would give me a lift

strike two I don't know anyone named Shannon. Thinking about it, I don't think I've literally ever met anybody named Shannon in all my years. I knew it wasn't my neighbor. They were an older couple named Keith and Mary. So, who Shannon was, was a complete mystery to me. I politely tried to explain that there must be some kind of misunderstanding, and that I was sorry,

but I wasn't going to be able to help him. Instead of understanding my position, he got all riled up and stared at me with this intense and angry gaze. He wouldn't back down. He kept repeating that I needed to drive him to work, that I had no choice. Feeling a bit creeped out and not wanting to engage further, I apologized again and retreated back inside, locking the door as soon as I shut it. From the safety of my home, I watched as he stood there, and threw his arms up flustered,

and then threw himself down on my patio chair, lighting a cigarette, and just staring off at the street. It was like he was fixated on this idea that I would give in, open the door and say, Oh, you got me. Come on, let's get you to work, buddy. Time crawled by, and he was still out there, just stubbornly sitting in. my patio chair and watching the front sidewalk. Every once in a while he would look back at the door and shake his head angrily, like he was in disbelief that I wouldn't help him. Three hours went by and he was not budging.

It got to the point that I was half wondering if I should call the police, but he wasn't doing anything illegal, I guess other than trespassing. He was just being incredibly strange. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he gets up and just walks away without saying a word. I watched him walk down the sidewalk and eventually just disappear into the sunset. I was still bewildered about who he was, why he thought I knew him, and who this mysterious Shannon might be. To this day, I have no idea what the encounter was all about.

Maybe it was just some bizarre misunderstanding. Or perhaps it was something else. Something more sinister. Maybe this was some kind of trap, and when I didn't fall for it, he didn't know what to do. Whatever the case, it was one of those eerie moments that makes you question what the hell is going on. And let me tell you, I had no idea what was going on. I have been an elementary teacher for a decade, and I have a story that I have never shared before with anyone. It's absolutely etched in my mind, and as I think about it, I honestly start to feel sick.

I think this story should have a content warning, so content warning, as it is pretty messed up, and it may not be as bad as some, but it does involve a young child, and, blood. So, I guess just include that as the warning. I teach second grade at a local elementary school, so I have absolutely seen my fair share of scraped knees and playground injuries. I've even seen some pretty bad ones, though those are rare. Kids can be incredibly resilient, I tell you, but nothing I have seen or dealt with could have prepared me for what I had to deal with on that specific afternoon. It started out like normal, like every other day. Kids were screying around, giggling, enjoying their youth.

While my class was out on recess with the other classes, I told one of the teachers that were outside that I had to go run to the restroom real quick and then stepped away for my quick bathroom break. As I entered the ladies' room, I heard the muffled sobs of a child. causing me to immediately feel uneasy. There was only one stall that was closed,

and I approached it while gingerly asking, Hey, sweetie, you okay in there? Yeah, I'm okay. The small voice whimpered between sobs, but she kept crying, and I could tell that she was in distress. I wanted to give her privacy, as she was in the restroom,

and I didn't know what was going on. but I was still very concerned for her. My concern grew when her crying morphed into a yelp of sheer pain, making my heart drop into my stomach. I asked her again if she was okay, and then asked what was going on, and she responded with a sharp, I'm okay, go away.

Well, obviously I was not going to be going away. I could tell that something was wrong. something was going on and I was not leaving this young girl alone in the bathroom while this was happening. I stood off to the side for a moment, but in the end I decided that I needed to be more direct. I approached the stall, and I tried to peer into the crack on the side of the door, and it was then that I knew that I needed to intervene. Her face was covered in blood. She was holding a pair of kid scissors,

and a tight clenched fist, and was pushing them against her forehead. I gasped, and I immediately said, Hey, stop that. I wasn't trying to sound scared or angry, but I couldn't help it, and I knew that my voice was lined with my shock. Thankfully, she obeyed my request. I watched as her arms fell to her side, and she just sat there sobbing uncontrollably.

I asked her to open the door and after a couple of seconds she reached up and unlatched the lock I could see some of it through the crack in the door but seeing her completely as the door opened was it was heartbreaking her face was a bloody tear-streaked mess her shirt was stained with spots of red

and she would not look at me she just kept staring at the floor as she stood there in front of me, I shakily reached out and she handed me the scissors. And then I asked her, What were you doing, honey? Why were you doing that to yourself? My voice was barely above a whisper as I was trying to hold back my emotions. I was trying to remove my third eye, she whimpered out, sobbing uncontrollably.

That sentence hit me like a freight train. This sweet little girl was mutilating herself, and for a reason that I couldn't comprehend. I scooped her up, rushing her down to the school nurse with this horrified pit in my stomach growing the whole way. The confusion that followed was immense. The nurse was understandably horrified, as were the school administrators when they were informed. When her parents arrived, their faces reflected the same shock and fear that I had. had felt, and their confusion was genuine. She was taken to the hospital, the parents thanking me for intervening when I did, but

their gratitude honestly did not make me feel any better. This poor girl was dealing with something that none of us could possibly understand, and the visual of her standing there stained in her blood like that, it echoed in my nightmares. I know that she ended up going into counseling sessions, and the school tried to support the family as much as they could, but she never returned to class. The teacher that mentioned her said that she was one of the brightest kids in her class, and that she had never had any issues with her at all.

For all intents and purposes, this little girl was gifted. She was a straight-A student, and was ahead. of the rest of her class, but obviously there was something that bothered her inside. This was years ago, but I can still see it as vivid as that day. I have no idea what she was referring to with her third eye. I know the whole theory of third eyes and all that, but why would a second grader be aware of all that new age stuff like that? I hope that she's okay out there in the world, and I hope that she found health. for whatever it was that ailed her young mind.

In the incredibly minimal chance that she ever hears this, I hope that she reaches out, because I would love to see her again, just to know that she's doing better than how she was, the last time that I saw her. I have a strange but scary situation that happened to me back whenever I was 13. My parents both work,

and I didn't have an older sibling or any nearby family, so I was left home alone, a lot. I know that's not the best parenting, but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and say that they did the best with what they had. If they could have afforded someone to watch me, I know that they would have done so. I wasn't a bad kid. I would just stay home and watch TV or play my PlayStation. and normally there weren't any issues.

On this day, the sun was setting, lighting up the living room through the side window, and making me feel like I was about to doze off while I ate my pizza rolls and watched some late afternoon cartoons. In the middle of me starting to close my eyes, I was jolted awake by a loud, pop. I shot up from the couch throwing my plate of pizza rolls on the floor. The sound was like a balloon bursting or a firecracker, but a hundred times louder. Looking around the room, I couldn't see anything amiss. The window was intact, the outlet hadn't burst into flames, nothing like that.

I glanced out the window to see if someone was out there, but I didn't see anybody. I started picking up my pizza rolls and blowing them off to get the carpet bits off of them. I was 13, so I was still going to eat them. As I was picking them up, listening to the sound of the TV and waiting to see if anything else happened, I jumped again at the sound of the doorbell ringing. I froze, but then it rang again, and I figured that I should do something. I shouted, Who is it?

As I walked over to the door and reached for the knob. I heard a voice say something on the other side, but I couldn't tell what he said. All I could tell was that he was out of breath. I pulled the door open slightly, thinking that if I didn't open it all the way, whoever it was couldn't get to me. I asked him who he was and what it was that he wanted. The man on the other side of the door was a large and quite burly guy, sweating heavily, and his face was a bright red.

His voice was weak, almost like he was trying to not let anybody hear him. He asked, Are your parents home, kid? I should have lied, but in my nervousness I blurted out. Oh, no, they're not home. They will be soon, though. I still don't know why I told this guy that, but I did. But then the man spoke again after taking a deep breath.

Uh, all right, could you call 911 for me, son? I've been shot. Wait, what? My eyes widened in shock. He moved his hands slightly, and sure enough, I saw the red stain on his shirt. He wasn't kidding. This wasn't some kind of joke or anything. He had been shot. Without another word, I doubt. I doubt. I doubt. flashed back into the house, fumbled with the phone, and dialed 911. The operator picked up and asked me where the emergency was, and... I never knew how stressful calling 911 actually was. As I explained the situation, I could hear the disbelief in the operator's voice, but she assured me that help was on the way.

The man staggered over to our porch and dropped down sitting heavily against the side of of the house. I think those sirens were the most comforting sound that I have ever heard. Paramedics rushed to the man, applying pressure to his wound and loading him onto a stretcher, and they were gone as quickly as they showed up. Obviously, the cops showed up too, and my parents came home in the middle of the chaos, returning home with a sense of terror, I'm sure. The cops were kind, but their questions were a bit pointed.

I repeated my story again and again. The pop, the man, the blood. Eventually my parents took over, and I was left to sit on the couch, the adrenaline wearing off, leaving me feeling hollow and a bit shaky. A few days later, we got the news that the man had survived, thanks in part to my call. I felt pretty good about myself when the officer told me that I had probably saved that man's life. That pride was a bit short-lived, though.

I was actually somewhat terrified to stay home alone, and my parents weren't willing to leave me there. I'm pretty sure that we all had a bit of PTSD, me from the whole situation, and them from coming home to a bunch of cops stationed outside their house. I was honestly okay with them not being willing to let me stay home anymore. To be completely honest, I feel like this event made me grow up a bit quicker than I should have. I didn't really feel like a hero, though they told me I had done a good thing. I felt scared and vulnerable, and like my home wasn't the safe haven I'd once thought it was. It's one thing to see someone get shot in a movie

It's another thing to see a gunshot wound Within a couple feet of your face I had some nightmares about the whole thing for a while And I had this weird fear that I was going to wake up to one of my parents being shot Something that obviously never happened But still weighed heavy on my mind I know that all sounds a bit dramatic

But it's true I was a bit too young to be thinking about my mortality, but if someone could shoot someone like that in my neighborhood, what was to stop them from doing it again? Would I get shot while walking to my friend's house? Being confronted with those kinds of things that early in your teens, it kind of changes you. And while I'm now an adult,

and have never been faced with anything like that since, and seeing that man hold his stomach like that is a visual that I will never forget Let me take you back to a time when I was in college And I was broke AF I was in between part-time jobs and was needing some cash to pay my phone bill And I was told by my mom that she had a co-worker That was looking for a babysitter for the following Friday

Well, what luck I needed money, they needed someone to watch their kids, win-win. They had two little kids, a boy and a girl, and they were just the cutest kids that I'd ever seen. Well, at first. Carmen was the older of the two, he was five and was a very giggly kid. Carrie was four, and she was the definition of an adorable little girl. They seemed pretty normal on the surface, like I said. They were playful and cute, and pretty much right away I had this feeling that this was going to be a super easy night for me.

They were watching TV for a while, and I was making dinner for them, just getting some pasta boiled and chicken cooked for spaghetti. Carrie didn't like beef, so they used chicken. After the show ended, Carmen asked if they could go upstairs to play while I finished dinner, and I told them that was fine since it would still be a little bit. The two of them run upstairs and I'm just left to finish up the food. No big deal. I finished up the spaghetti, and I got it plated for them and then headed up the stairs to let them know that dinner was ready. I get to the outside of their door, and I can hear the two of them giggling and laughing quietly,

peppered with some hushed whispers. I knocked softly on the door and asked what they were doing, not wanting to scare them or anything. When I asked this, I heard a bit of shuffling and then heard Carmen say, Oh, nothing. With his voice coated with that sugary innocence that told me they were doing something that they weren't supposed to be doing. It kind of put me on edge, and it just felt off. I pushed the door open to see. what it was they were hiding, and my heart skipped a beat. There they were, both sitting on the

floor, huddled around a Ouija board. Where they got it from, I didn't know, but I was a bit speechless for a moment before I gathered myself. Guys, you should not be playing with that. Where did you get that from? I was firm, but calm when I asked my question, trying to mask my nervousness. Harmon responded with, I found it in the closet. It's cool. It spells words. I nodded like,

Yep, that's what it's for. And I ushered them out of the room and down into the kitchen. I went in to pick up the board, and I swear that that room felt ice cold. I can't prove it, but I swear it. We all went downstairs, ate our dinner, and after we cleaned up the table and dishes, Carrie asked if they could color down at the kitchen table.

I figured that was fine. They would get into less trouble doing that than playing with a Ouija board at least. I got them some paper, got their tackle box full of coloring items out onto the table. At this point, I had mostly brushed off the whole Ouija board situation, thinking it was probably nothing. They didn't know what they were doing and that they had to have intent to even do anything with it. right? After some time, Carrie skipped back into the living room, a proud smile paced on her face, as she held a piece of paper against her chest and just stared at me with her big eyes.

I asked what was up, and she said that she had made something for me. I asked what it was, and she flipped the paper over, and my blood ran cold. It was a drawing of a tall, menacing, and cold. incredibly demonic figure. All black with horns and a large mouth, red eyes. It was crude, as children's drawings often are, but there was something horribly unsettling about it. I asked her trying to keep my voice steady.

Sweetie, what is this? Without skipping a beat, she replied in that cute little carefree voice. It's who we were talking to upstairs. he doesn't like you. He said that he wants to cut you up. She then giggled and skipped back into the kitchen to continue coloring. I was honestly paralyzed.

Her words just echoing in my head. He doesn't like me? He wants to cut me? I just kind of laughed and folded the picture up and put it in my pocket. When their parents got home, I tried to talk about it. it, but they didn't really see anything concerning about what had happened. They laughed it off and just said, Oh, yeah, she's really imaginative, and dismissed it.

Helpful, I guess. Obviously, nothing else happened that night, and I was never attacked by some demonic being or anything, but the overall feeling I was left with that evening was nothing short of skin-crawling. Those kids were adorable. Minus that business, but I was happy to know that I wasn't going to have to babysit for them again after that night. Call it intuition or paranoia, but I was seriously worried that something was going to latch on to me after that. But thankfully I got away, a bit mentally scarred, but physically unharmed.

Hi, Raven. You're my favorite horror narrator, and I hope that you're... use my story in one of your videos. I work in retail. It wasn't my first choice, but the pay is okay, and my boss is surprisingly decent. I work in one of those antique stores in a small town. Most people know each other in my town, enough to know who everyone is and their names. We even have some regular out-of-town people who drop by to see what we have in store, and they go to the local cafes. Most of our industry is now based around tourism and a super busy tourist season. I was doing some dusting of some of the shelves when I heard the bell. I'll be right over, I called out, and I saw an older-looking woman with bleach blonde hair and that stereotypical Karen

haircut. She had that irritated look, even though nothing had even happened yet. I'm not going to to judge someone based on looks, but I smiled at her and asked if there was anything I could help her with. She looked me up and down like I wasn't worth her time, rolled her eyes, and asked where we kept the expensive items that were actually worth looking at. I asked her if she had anything specific in mind, maybe jewelry, furniture, or something that could help me. She then asked me if I was stupid and if I had mental deficiencies. I told her no and that I wanted to help her. She asked to speak to my boss and told me that she knew the owner.

And if I didn't end up giving her a discount, she was going to get me fired from my job. This was an incredible overreaction. I nearly didn't bother calling him over, but I picked up the phone from behind the desk, and Bob, the owner, came out. He was a nice person, but he got really cranky when he was disturbed for no reason. She smiled at him. It was so fake.

And she told him that I had been rude to her, and therefore she felt a discount was an order. He raised his eyebrows and looked at me. I was about to answer when he put his hand up. He told her that he had heard every single word and asked if she wished to proceed with her complaint. She looked like a fish gulping for air at that point. I had to resist the urge to burst out laughing. I wish I remembered exactly what he'd said and the way that he said it, but basically it was along the lines of,

I don't know you, and I've never met you, ma'am. However, I'd like to think that my friends would never treat a 17-year-old employee with that disrespect. Please, find somewhere else to take your money. She ranted and raped like a child. He told her that if she broke anything, she would have to pay for the items. Now, I've never actually seen a Karen before, so this was quite the experience. We had a laugh about it, and by the end of the day, all of our regulars knew, and therefore the whole town learned of the Karen adventures. No secrets in a small town and all that.

But that wasn't the end of the whole affair. No, no. She left negative reviews, and made new accounts and left even more. She drove back to the store and handed out pamphlets to any customers about how terrible we were. It was bizarre. My boss was more amused by the whole thing than angry. None of the customers had time for her, and all she did was scream at them and throw more tantrums. At this point, I almost felt sorry for her. why would you waste your time doing all of this and not just move on with your life?

When my boss went out to ask her to move on, she came at him, screaming and punching him. I went out and I pulled her off of him. She was screeching and flailing her arms, telling us that she was going to destroy us. It was freaking unhinged. I could barely stop her. One of the townies managed to get her down on the ground. She was screaming to be let go and that she has rights. It was kind of hard to follow what all was said by her.

The sheriff was called and she was arrested. And yes, it was the talk of my town for months afterwards. And we never found out what happened to her. The town laughs about her every now and then. Hey, remember that crazy lady who came into Bob's place? Bob was okay, thankfully. He had a bruise and would joke sometimes about his war wound for the store. He even got some sales out of it, so he was more than happy.

Every once in a while, we will get another bad review that sounds like it was written by her, but honestly, there's a lot of crazy in this world. I've heard a few people on here talk about some really crazy stuff that happened to them while they were working retail, so I thought I would throw my hat in the ring. I used to work at a small grocery store chain for a few years. Typical nine to five work in the produce department carved out in a little corner at the front of the store. At this job, and I assume most others, you get two 15-minute breaks and a lunch in between,

which was 30 minutes at this place. I know, criminal. We could take our breaks outside, but you couldn't leave the property because you were still clocked in, unless you were on lunch. So, typically, on the nice summer days, most of us wanted to take our breaks outside. There wasn't a designated sitting area or a set of tables and chairs. We were just a storefront at the end of a bigger string of stores, so there really wasn't anywhere to put them anyways. So normally we would just sit out on the little concrete lip coming off the wall, off the building on the sidewalk. After working for a few hours, I decided to take my first 15,

so I told my manager, took off my apron, bought a snack at the checkout, and went outside to get some air. When I got outside, I leaned up against the wall and ate my snack, just listening to the cars and the people, trying to clear my head before going back in. This large woman walks up next to me and just kind of stares at me for a minute. I look over at her, she's just standing there mumbling and staring right at me. I look away, trying to act like I wasn't bothered by it,

which I totally was. After about another minute of this, she just turns around and walks away. Feeling relieved, I didn't want to wait for her to come back as I had five minutes left on my break, so I decided to cut it short and head in early. Later on in the day, I'm stalking the fruits and veggies, and I noticed the same woman walking around in the store,

looking around in a daze, no shopping cart or bags, not looking at any products or even people. She was just wandering around like she wasn't in the middle of a busy grocery store on a Saturday afternoon. I told my man, about her and how she kind of just stared at me outside, but he said we couldn't do anything

unless she was making people uncomfortable or decided to steal something. So I went about the next few hours like normal, until my lunch break hit. I'd forgotten about the woman and my brief encounter in the morning. I ordered a slice of pizza over the phone and went next door to pick it up, and as I'm walking to my usual outside sitting spot, I noticed the same woman standing there. staring at the wall where I was earlier. I decided the AC was nicer than the outside heat anyways, and I took my lunch inside. Inside of our store, there are a set of tables and booths in a medium-sized section of wine and beer.

Just kind of in the middle of the store. It's pretty cozy. It's not good to get away from people, and, in hindsight, I should have just went to the break room in the back. As I'm sitting there eating my pizza and sipping on my Coke, I was in the middle of a YouTube video with both headphones in, and I see at the very top of my vision a big figure slide into the booth across from me. I quickly look up and then back down at my phone. It was the same woman from earlier, and she was just staring daggers into my soul. I decided enough was enough. This was getting ridiculous.

We're in the middle of a store, so what was she going to do? I took out my earbuds. Can I help you? She replies with just mumbles. Listen, you following me around is making me feel really uncomfortable, so can you tell me what you want? Just like that, I watched her eyes finally focus on me and actually see me for the first time. She must have been totally out of it. I just need a ride home.

I've been stuck here all day. She said this in such a deadpan, monotone way, that it was like she was reading it off of a script. Sorry, I don't have a car. My uncle comes to pick me up after work. She then starts acting erratic, rocking back and forth. Uh, I could, I could give you, no, him, gas money. Please?

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, I decided to get up and take my lunch to the break room, apologizing to the lady and just quickly walking away. As I get to the double doors leading to the dairy backroom and the break room, I push one of them open and my manager is just coming out. I was just about to tell him what happened when his face turns into one of confusion, and he says something to someone behind me. Ma'am, you can't be back here, employees only. I turned around and to my horror, there she was again, standing there in a daze and staring straight at me,

not even acknowledging my manager and trying to follow me into the back room. He gets her away from the double doors, and I usher him over, and I tell him what's going on. He told me that he'll get her out of there and not to worry. Relieved, I went to the break room and finished my lunch. then my second break and then the second half of my shift without so much as a hiccup aside from the regular 9 to 5 BS

So as I mentioned before I told the lady that my uncle would be coming to pick me up Which was true What I didn't tell her is that he would be late today By about half an hour so So I was just going to go to the game stop next door Browse for a bit

And hop in the car and high tail it out of there hoping that she wouldn't see me. As I exit the store, I turned to where my usual spot in the sidewalk is, and there she is, again. Same spot, eight hours later. But this time she's looking right at me, like she knew that I was coming. I quickly turned around and speedwalked to GameStop, hoping that I could get there in time before she got to me.

I knew the people in there very well. We were basically friends at this point. so I knew that they would help me. I rush into the store, and the lady at the counter saw the look on my face, and asked me what was wrong. I told her that a woman had been stalking me since I got into work that day. She immediately ushered me to sit behind some boxes in the counter. A few seconds later, the door chime went off, and someone came in the store.

The lady behind the counter asked me what she looked like, and I told her. She then turned and asked the person who came in. in if they needed any help. Nah, I'm just waiting for my boyfriend. Her what? So this lady follows me around all day, stalks me, makes me uncomfortable, and then calls me her boyfriend? I sat there for what felt like hours, and then finally the door chime went off again,

and she left. I stayed there for a few more minutes just to make sure she was gone. When the lady was sure that I was safe, she told her. me the coast was clear. Just then my uncle pulled up outside and I hopped in as fast as I could. I looked around as we were driving away and I saw the lady in that same spot from earlier just staring at the wall. A few weeks later, I actually saw an arrest warrant on Facebook from my local police department. My heart dropped as I saw the picture of the same lady with that same blank stare. She was apparently wanted for robbery and attempted assault. I'm so thankful for that

lady at GameStop and my manager because I have no idea what would have happened to me if they weren't there. This happened to me and some friends back when we took a girl's camping trip in 2013. It was a much needed escape from our hectic lives at the time, filled with failed relationships, demanding jobs and college stress. There were six of us total, and we were determined to have a blast together in the great outdoors. We had plans for a fire, some light drinking, swimming, and whatever else piqued our interest that weekend. We found a great campground a few hours out of state. It seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, which kind of put some of us off to it, but, after a great campgrounds, we

After looking at the reviews more, it seemed like a pretty popular place, so we went to it. We all met up and squeezed into Dawn's SUV, preparing for a nice drive to our destination. When we arrived, there were already a few cars in the parking lot, so, again, it reassured us that at least other people were there. We wanted to hike through the grounds to find our spot, so we left the car in the parking lot. We only had three tents, and it didn't take much, so it was an easy hike around. Not to mention, this was in late spring, and it wasn't a very steep climb, so it was actually quite a pleasant walk. We got to one campground that would have been fine, but as we started plotting it out and talking about it, the people in the nearby tents came back.

The area was big enough for multiple tents, but the other occupants were too old. older couples, and they didn't look too happy with the idea of sharing the area with us. They were staring at us and looking pretty annoyed, so we decided to just keep walking. We didn't want people complaining and ruining our fun, so it was best to find a place just for us, or with people closer to our age. Thankfully, it didn't take long to find one. We weren't entirely sure at the time if it was an actual place. plot for camping, but it was open and flat, and off the trails, so we figured that it would

be okay. We set up our tents, started a fire, and we were ready to start our much-anticipated camping party. The first night we stayed near our tents, talking, drinking, the days and nights after were filled with even more laughter, bonding, and some pretty wild activities. We all started drinking pretty heavily, and... As it normally goes, we started doing some pretty stupid things. Val tried to climb one of the trees, and Jenna was really wanting to swim.

The lake was pretty close by, so we all went for a late-night swim, hoping that it would distract Val from trying to climb to. Once we got to the water, Jenna stripped down and jumped in, which caused a chain of reaction of everyone else following suit. It was pretty dark, and from what we could tell, we were alone. None of us felt scared, or like we were being watched, so we just enjoyed being carefree in the moment.

Things got a little more intense, though, when one of my friends got out first, put our clothes back on, and then grabbed the rest of our clothes, making us all have to get out and run back, wearing just about nothing. It was all in fun, though. Nobody was mad, and we were all still having a good. great time, not thinking about any of our responsibilities. At that moment, everything seemed perfect, and we thought that our worries were left far behind us at home.

It wasn't until later that night, when we were all asleep, that things started to take a creepy turn. I woke up in the middle of the night for some reason. Maybe I was just adjusting, or something of the sort, but I started to hear a weird sound. It was a click, followed by a grinding or winding sound. I heard this pattern three or four times before I finally sat up in my tent. It didn't sound natural, and I was afraid to go there by myself, so I woke up Summer, who was sleeping in the tent with me.

I told her to listen for the sound, but of course it didn't happen again. She was still pretty groggy, so she fell back asleep, but I was too invested at this point. I got out of the tents to look around, but instead of the clicking sound, I heard footsteps. I was startled at first, trying to find the source of the sound, when I saw Dawn running from out of the trees. The look on her face told me everything.

She looked just as frightened. She said that she had needed to use the restroom, but she started feeling like she was being watched, so she quickly finished up, But then she started hearing footsteps, footsteps that sounded like they were fast, like the person was running. This scared her enough to run back to our tents. We both sat awake for some time discussing what we had heard, and I brought up the clicking sound that I'd heard. She said that she heard it too when she was back in the trees.

When we ran out of ideas and the area was void of any weird sounds, we told each other that we told each other that we were. we should try to get some more sleep since we would be driving back the next morning. The next morning, the strange incident was pretty much forgotten about, and we continued to enjoy our adventure. We made a quick breakfast and some instant coffee and agreed to pack up so that we could take our stuff with us through the rest of the trail, expecting to just leave afterwards. As we started packing up, Summer pointed out a disposable camera that was on the ground. The only thing that struck us as odd at the time was that it was on the ground. Nikki was a photographer, she was going to school for it,

and had already set her foot in the photography field. However, Nikki preferred disposable cameras. She said that she liked the older look of the pictures, and she also developed them herself at her school. We all just assumed it was one of hers, handing it to her, and she agreed that it probably was hers as it was the same. same brand. She didn't know how it got outside, because she had several of them with her, but they were all in her bag, in her tent. We just joked about us being pretty messed up that night

and left it at that. We packed up and finished our trip out of there and home, with nothing else significant happening. A few weeks later, we were all back home continuing with our normal crazy lives. We started a group chat for the six of us, when we planned our trip, and decided to keep it going. It was a great way for all of us to stay connected. Then Nikki came into the chat and started asking who was taking photos of us sleeping. No one confessed to it. That's when she started becoming a bit more hysterical. She was talking about how she was developing the film, looking at the photos,

when she noticed certain things weren't adding up. She would be absent in a lot of the photos, as she was the one taking them, but there were times where she would hold it out to be in the photo too, or one of us would take it instead. But there was never a situation while we were camping that all of us could have been in the picture fully. I think some of us were still in denial, me included, and trying to come up with some kind of explanation.

So, a few of us got together to look at them. I couldn't deny it anymore. As we went through the photos, there were far too many of us in candid moments. There were a few from us around the fire, but it got creepier when we saw the photos of us at the lake, swimming. There was one of me running out of the water with nothing on. It was from a distance at the side, which was terrifying, because that would mean they were close to me. to the trees and trail going the opposite way of our campsite, which means the likelihood of it being one of my friends was slim.

There would be no reason for us to go that way, especially when most of us didn't even have clothes on. And the worst ones we saw were the dark pictures of our tent. Then it looked like the person holding the camera stuck their hand in the tent and snapped the photo of us. The camera was above us, angled down into the tent. And there were pictures of all of us sleeping. That's when it finally made sense to me as to what I was hearing that night.

The clicking was the camera shutter buttoned, and the winding was the winding from the camera. I woke up at some point while there was someone out there taking photos of us. And then Dawn said she also heard someone in the tree. We started piecing things together. Someone must have gone through our stuff at some point while we were walking around, and stole one of Nikki's cameras. It had to be at that point because it had pictures of us around the fire, at the lake, and sleeping.

But I'm guessing me waking up and talking to summer must have spooked them off, and they bolted. I'm assuming they meant to keep the camera, but dropped it. We were all thoroughly freaked out at this point. Knowing someone was close enough to take these pictures, we were all in vulnerable positions, and anything could have happened.

But I'm thankful that they at least didn't have the courage to do anything else. Nikki said that she was still glad we found the camera, so that we knew someone didn't keep naked and sleeping pictures of us. But just knowing that it happened, it was still plenty enough to freak us all out. Everyone wanted her to get rid of the pictures, not wanting to remember that, but she did confide in me that she kept the ones of herself.

The whole situation still creeps me out, but I do my best not to dwell on it. There wasn't really anything we could do about it anyways, so we just agreed that we wouldn't ever return to those campgrounds, and I hope that I never find creepy pictures like that of me again. I have a story from a while back, one time when I was home alone. I live in a somewhat old house with my girlfriend, and she was at her mom's house helping take care of her dad.

Not really relevant, but he'd been in an accident, and she wanted to get out there to see them. The house that we lived in was an older house, a single house. story house with a basement that was built a long time ago. It had its old house quirks, creaking floorboards, drafts that played tricks with the doors, so forth and so on. It was a chilly November evening,

a real teeth chatterer, the kind where you could see your breath fog up in the air, even when you were inside. Since it was just me in the house, the house was mostly silent, save for the occasional groan of the timber and the pattering of freezing rain smacking against the window. Most times, that kind of night would have been perfect for curling up under a blanket with my Kindle and a cup of cocoa. And that's actually what I planned.

I figured it would be a nice evening of some self-care until all this went down. I had just finished my chapter in my book, when the power just completely, I don't mean like flicker. I mean a full-on plunging into an inky and disorienting darkness. None of the lights were on, the TV shut off, and even the glow of the streetlights had disappeared. The only thing I could see was the faint shimmering of the ice and the snow in the moonlight. I sat there, frozen for a moment,

just trying to really figure out what I should do. I remember fumbling around for my phone, but when I hit the button, I saw that I was at 3%. And it wouldn't turn the flashlight on because the battery was too low. This was a pretty bad situation to be in. No power, no heat, and a phone that would last for probably five minutes if I had to use it. I wasn't really sure what I should do. I figured that I should go ahead and check the circuit breaker in the base. basement, just to be sure that it wasn't a power surge or something.

I went over to the kitchen, and I rifled around to find a flashlight. When I finally found one, I opened the door and went downstairs into the cold concrete pit that we called a basement. I trotted around the boxes and things that we had down there to get over to the circuit breaker. I opened it, and before I flipped the main breaker, I paused. I heard what sounded like the floorboards creaking, like they were being walked on. I listened intently, thinking that it was just the house shifting,

but being unwilling to just let it go. But after a couple of seconds, I heard a very specific click that happens when you walk from the living room into the kitchen. There's a specific floorboard that makes a popping, sound if you step on it, and only when you step on it. That sound doesn't happen as the house shifts.

It only happens when the board actually has weight on it. So, at this point, I knew for certain that there was someone walking on the floor. But this made no sense. It was about 10 o'clock at night. It was snowing out, and why would someone be out in this storm? and why or how would they have broken into my house? I slowly made my way back to the staircase to go upstairs, half expecting to see someone standing up there. I just stood there and listened for a moment, as I heard a very distinct sound of someone stepping slowly,

opening the drawers and cabinets, and shutting them and then moving on. I was even more confused on what to do. Now, I'm not the biggest guy, and I was in my boxers and a bathrobe, with nothing more than a dollar store flashlight to defend myself. Should I go up and confront this intruder? Should I stay down here and hide and just let them do what they want to do? I decided to do the latter, figuring that if I went up there and they had a weapon, they would be able to take me down like I was. nothing. I stood there, staring up into the dark stairwell, watching a beam of light shift around the room through the slightly cracked door. The entire time, I could feel my heart pounding,

hoping that whoever this was would not open the basement door and see me standing there. After a few very long seconds of waiting, the lights popped back on. The motor of the fridge started up and the heater system kicked back on, the silence being completely broken by the hum of various electronics. I heard those soft steps change very quickly to fast and heavy ones, stepping across the kitchen into the living room and back toward the front door. I took this opportunity to run up the stairs, and if they weren't in the kitchen anymore, I could grab a knife to defend myself. When I got to the top, I grabbed the knife from the block and turned to the living room, half expecting to have to fight off some random person.

But there was no one there. I looked down, and I saw the trail of wet, snowy footprints. They headed towards the door that was now sitting wide open, the snow blowing into the entryway. So, at least then I knew that this was a person, and I wasn't losing my mind. From what I could tell, this person had entered and only gone into the kitchen. I don't think they had enough time to really go anywhere else,

and the lights clicking back on probably spooked them. I looked out into the front yard and down the street, and I didn't see anyone, so I assumed that whoever it was ran off to the side through the yards. In the end, I have no idea who this was or what they wanted, nor do I know how they got in. I swear that I locked the door, but I guess it's possible that I had forgotten to do so. The other thought that rocked my brain was that, if I had taken literally another minute or two to go downstairs or just stayed on the couch, we would have come face to face, and I would have been a sitting duck if he had a gun or a knife.

I'm actually kind of glad that I decided to go downstairs, as that decision may have actually saved my life. I have a bit of a strange and potentially creepy story that I've toyed with sending into you, and after I worked out some of the details with my wife, I decided why not. The story is about a vacation that my wife and I took a few years back, one that I could probably never forget if I tried. We don't get the chance to really take vacations anymore, because we have a little one, but most of our vacations were fairly normal and uneventful.

This one, however, was anything but. After talking about what we wanted to do for some time away, we said, settled on a quaint little beach town for our vacation. It was a little picture-perfect kind of place, the kind where the houses have all those neat little flower boxes hooked to the windows, and everyone knows each other. We'd rented out this adorable little old cottage off the beaten path, surrounded by woods,

and only a couple moments away from the ocean. It was our first night there, and the place was dead quiet. Not the kind of quiet where you can hear the sirens or cars on the highway off in the distance. No, this was that deep and almost unnatural silence. I was sitting on the porch, the cool evening breeze carrying the scent of the ocean to me, with the moon illuminating the woods around us in this pale and eerie glow. It was probably the most soothing and peaceful thing I have ever experienced in my life. We were sitting on the swinging bench on the front porch, just taking in the beautiful night.

When somewhere in the distance we heard a soft rustling. Initially, I passed it off as the wind, but then I thought that I saw something, or rather, saw some one, out of the corner of my eye. I turned to the left to look at the edge of the woods, and sure enough, there was a figure that was definitely human-shaped. Just kind of standing there still as a statue. It kind of creaked me out. But after a few moments, my logical side kicked in,

and I figured that it must just be a neighbor out for a late-night stroll. After a few seconds of them just kind of standing there, they turned to walk back into the woods slowly. And this kind of put me in a weird place mentally. So I mentioned to my wife that I wanted to go ahead and head to bed. She agreed and that was that. But that wasn't the end of it. The figure became a bit of a recurring sight, seemingly just there late in the evening,

just standing on the edge of the woods. The strangest part was that every night we saw it, it would just stand there on the edge of the woods. It never got closer to the cottage or really further in. into the woods at all. It would just stand there in the same spot until it decided it was done. Then it would turn around and disappear.

Honestly, it felt like it was watching us. And as much as I wanted to believe that this was just some person being a creep or whatever, I couldn't really convince myself of it. I remember one night lying awake in bed. The room was feeling unsettlingly quiet. it. Then, there it was again. That rustling. But this time it was louder, closer.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. My heart pounded as I slowly walked toward the window and slowly parted the curtain. The moonlight lit up some parts of the outside area, but not enough to highlight what I was looking for. As my eyes adjusted, I was able to see that the figure was once again outside, only this time it was closer. It wasn't on the edge of the woods anymore. It was just on the edge of the yard. I couldn't make out its features, but I could tell that it was staring right at me, watching me in the window.

I felt that cold dread settle in my stomach. I woke my wife up and we called the local police. I didn't tell them there was some weird creature in the yard. I just told them that some person was creeping around the house. By the time they got there, the thing was gone. They did a quick sweep, and by the end of it, told us that it was probably just a local, mostly harmless, but definitely odd. He told me that, if it happened again, to just yell at them to leave.

And if they didn't, then I should call them again. For the last three nights there, We were incredibly jumpy, and every single noise would cause me to get those same chills. But the thing wasn't around anymore. I thought that it was seriously gone. Like, they may have been right, and the police presence ended up scaring this person away. On the last night of our stay, I remember waking up suddenly, like some alarm had gone off in my head. I sat up and listened, but it was pretty much just the normal silence.

I heard what sounded like a slight creaking sound. I knew that creaking. It was the sound that the front step on the porch made when you approached the front door. I jumped up, grabbed my phone, and turned on the flashlight, and I ran down the stairs. When I got down to the living room, there was nobody there. I hit every switch on the way, lighting up all the rooms, but there was nothing in the house. However, when I got to the entryway, my heart stopped. The door was cracked open, like it had been unlocked, opened, and left slightly ajar.

I yelled for my wife to call the cops, and I jumped out onto the front porch. But there was nothing there. I stayed outside and waited for the cops to show up again, and I told them about the whole thing, that I'd heard the boards creaking and that the front door was open, and that I thought that it was whoever or whatever had been watching the house over the last week or so. They took the information and told us that they would patrol the area, which was great, except that we were leaving in less than eight hours. I did not sleep the rest of that night.

I just sat on the couch in the living room and watched the window, thinking that the stupid thing had ruined my relaxation. I have no idea what or who that thing was. It didn't really look like it was a human, just human-like. But the police said it was likely someone from the area just being a creep, and I'm certain that, whatever it was, was capable of unlocking and opening the front door. I'm glad that nothing else occurred,

that it didn't come upstairs and we weren't hurt or anything. but it was still the most terrifying thing that has ever happened to me. In the end, I'm never going to know what it was, and I am never going to vacation in that town ever again. Hi, okay. I wanted to send this story in for ages, and I finally got around to it. I hope you and your subscribers like it, Raven. Right after COVID happened and things began to open back up,

My family and I were going stir-crazy being in the house all day, every day, for near enough years. We didn't and couldn't really do any international travel, so instead we decided to go down to one of the more secluded beaches in a friend's renovated van. It would give us privacy, and we could leave whenever we wanted to. We ended up getting into some minor debts afterward, and that meant we had to do some things on the cheap. I napped nearly the whole way down to the beach, ignoring everyone. I woke up to the windows open and the smell of the ocean coming through.

It was really nice to go out into the warmth and to run around on the beach. There were barely any people there, but that also meant that there were no lifeguards either, and no red or yellow flags to say that it was being monitored. There were some families and some older couples. I'm guessing retirees who were walking around with their dog. It was a beautiful day, one that I'm going to remember forever. When dusk started to settle in, my dad broke out the barbecue and started to cook for the family, while Mom and I prepared the salad.

We ate together watching the waves come in and made sure that we weren't too close due to the rising tide. We got some videos for Facebook to send to our rellos overseas and for our social medias. I was going to send some beach pictures for you to show on the screen, but I don't want anyone to find us. We packed up and settled in for the night. Since I had already slept earlier, I was wide awake, and I couldn't sleep. I sat using my iPad mindlessly trying to find something to do when I heard a noise outside the viz. van. It sounded like a group of people walking past. They were being loud, and I figured maybe they were drinking. I frowned, turned up my music, and tried to drown it out, and jumped when I heard a loud smack on the side.

My dad had already woken up, and he went outside with the torch. A flashlight, but that's what Aussies call them. My family are Aboriginal, and let's just say there were racist slurs written on the side of the van. I'm not going to repeat them, but they were pretty disgusting. The next morning we cleaned it off and went to one of the local fish and chips shops. We got our food, and my mom loves to have a yarn or chat with people. She brought up what happened last night. The lady was pretty apologetic. and said that the area had had an increase in racist groups in the town.

When we decided to come here, we had no idea about this, and she asked how long we were going to stay. My dad said a couple more days. I think if he was by himself, he would have stayed in the same area, but because he had us with him, he wanted to keep us safe. We drove to another area. This time it was close to a street. of stores, and we got permission from the owners to stay there, especially after we told them

what had happened. That night was uneventful. We didn't want to let the racist win, so we went back to the beach to spend some time there again. We had a good day, and we didn't let things get to us as hard as it was. There were a few groups of people walking around, and we were people watching and trying to work out whether they were the racists who wrote the slurs on the vans. That said, so many people were welcoming and friendly to us. When the sun started to go down again, we started to pack up, and it kind of sucked.

We had permission to be there, and being so close to the ocean was beautiful. But it changed the trip. My dad was tense, and my mom was worried the whole time. I wasn't too worried. I figured they would only try something again at night, because that's what cowards tend to do. Other than some suspicions and some dirty looks from some of the locals, I'm not sure who it was.

When we came back home, we told our family about what had happened, and they were honestly surprised about the area. Since I was curious, I decided to do some digging into it, and there was a supposed increase in hate groups in that section of town. The area was otherwise beautiful, and most people were all right, and I guess that things could have gone worse. Back in the summer of 2016, I went on a solo backpacking trip across Europe, a trip that I'd wanted to do since I was a 13-year-old kid,

learning about Europe and history class. I say that it was across Europe, but it was mostly focused on one section, and most of that was Italy. There was one particular city that I wanted to spend time in, which was Venice, the city on the water. With its maze of canals and historical architecture, it gives me the chills. I'm a nerd, I know.

Anyways, Venice was my main destination, and let me tell you it did not disappoint. But my story isn't about the beauty of the city. Oh, no. It's about one unforgettable and honestly bone-chilling encounter that I had while I was enjoying my once-in-a-lifetime vacation. After a few days of sight-seeing, I decided to spend the day on the Lido, which is the island known for a time. beach. I arrived early with the intention of lazing around and just taking it easy. Now, I do what I can to not look too much like a tourist. But I am an American, and I hate to say it, I know that I stood out. I'm sure that it was obvious that I wasn't a local. I speak enough

Italian to order food and keep myself out of trouble, but beyond that, if the person's speaking to me didn't know at least basic English, then we weren't chatting. While I was walking around, taking in the sights of the city, I accidentally bumped into this guy with a green jacket. I know that's a strange descriptor for him, but it was a pale lime green, and it made him kind of obvious in the sea of people. When I bumped into him, I instinctively said, Oh, I'm sorry. I should have said it in Italian, but it was reactive to say it in English. The man looked at me with a bit of a grin and said,

Not a problem. In English with a really heavy Italian accent. I nodded and turned to walk away, thinking that that would be the end of it, but it wasn't. As the day went on, I started to notice that he was everywhere that I was. If it weren't for the green jacket, I probably wouldn't have noticed him, but I saw him numerous times throughout the morning. I thought maybe I was just crazy. Maybe he had a thing for me. Maybe he was an undercover police officer watching the tourist.

I don't know. But I didn't want to assume the worst. A little voice in my head said to keep an eye on him, but I wasn't going to assume that he was going to do anything beyond just watch me. and I would keep my guard up. But as the day went on, I kept noticing him. The cafe, the ice cream stand, even when I was at the beach. When I saw him at the beach, I'd had enough. I didn't want to cause a scene in the middle of another country,

but I also didn't want to just lay down and accept some weirdo being, well, weird. I decided that I would confront him, show them that I knew that he was. there and that he wasn't sneaky. But as I approached him, he looked me dead in the eyes, stood up from his seat, and walked away. That was strange, but I thought maybe he'd gotten the point. I stayed on the beach for the rest of the afternoon, just sitting there and absorbing the sunset, the sky being painted with this gorgeous orange and pink, and I was in heaven. After a bit longer I decided that it was time for me to leave, but when I turned to grab my backpack, I froze.

My backpack was missing. I jumped up trying to think about how it could have been taken. I hadn't been in this spot for that long, but yet it was nowhere to be found. I started to scan the area with my panic rising. I needed that backpack. It had all my documents, my money, and my medication. in it. And without all that, I was a foreigner with no papers in a country thousands of miles from home. But that's when I saw him. The man with the green jacket at a bit of a distance, holding what

looked like my backpack. He was walking away from the beach at a leisurely pace, not making it obvious that he was trying to escape. I took off after him at a full sprint. He kept on a weaving his way through the narrow lanes of Ledo, and I followed him. It felt like a nightmare, watching this man get away with basically my life, running but not seeming to make any progress on him. Finally, he disappeared into a small run-down building. Gathering every ounce of courage, I followed him in, figuring I was going to have to be aggressive to get my stuff back.

The building was eerily quiet, my breathing being the only thing filling the silence. I turned the corner and there he was. He was on the ground. He had dumped the contents of my bag and was sifting through my belongings. I confronted him yelling, Hey, a-hole, anger overruling my fear by this point. He looked at me a bit surprised that I had found him, but he didn't really look too concerned. Then he started shouting at me in Italian, and I'm not even going to bother typing what he said,

because I have no idea what it was. I just know that it sounded aggressive. He stood up, reached in his back pocket, and he pulled out a switchblade. My heart skipped a beat, as I thought about the fact that I was now in a situation where I could very likely be killed or severely injured, and probably not be fattened. for a little while. He started walking towards me, waving his knife around, and continuing to say things that I honestly couldn't understand. As he approached me with clear intent to do me harm, I had to think quickly on my feet to get out of this situation, and I did something that I was

insanely proud of. He got within striking distance, and I lifted my leg, kicking him with all of my strength in the family jewels. I have strong legs. I was walking across a large portion of a country, so I'd been doing a lot of working out in physical training, and I know that I have a pretty damn strong kick. He tried to swing at me when I made a move, but I was definitely quicker, and my kick hit its target. Part of me thinks that he was expecting me to square up, and we would just to be.

go man to man, or for me to just put my hands up in fear, he really did not expect a swift kick in his manhood. He fell to his knees and he dropped the knife screaming in agony and continuing to curse me in Italian. I knew some of those words, so I knew that he was not in a good way. I ran over and shoved all my stuff back into my bag, and I booked it out of the building. I didn't even bother looking back, but I heard this guy yelling at me and groaning in pain. I got back out onto the streets, and honestly the cool evening air was rather welcoming. I ran back to the hotel, and I did file a report with the police, but I don't think they ever found the guy. Thankfully, that was the only bad thing that happened to me on this trip, and I didn't let it get to me,

though I did keep my backpack around my arms at all times after that. Overall, I would rate the vacation a good four stars out of five. Italy is beautiful. Venice is amazing. And the Lido was an amazing relaxation spot. Minus one star for the crazy guy in the green jacket that decided to swipe my back, though. Hi, Raven. How are you? I hope you're good. Oh, thank you, subscriber. I hope you're doing well. as well. My family used to travel around the country a lot. We're from the U.S.

This was during the late 90s and early 2000s. My parents had a stay in an RV, in tents, in motels and hotels, anything and everything because they wanted us to be well-grounded and get a chance to see the country. My parents were the easy-going hippie types that had a more lack method of parenting. So it wasn't weird for my siblings and I to curse, run around, not pay attention, and it was kind of a mixed result with the three of us. I'm not going to name the town

because a majority of the people who lived and worked there were great people, and it's not fair for them to be associated with any of this. We arrived at a hotel room, somewhere in the desert beside an old highway, that had certainly seen better days. Fortunately for this spot, people were drawn here for tourism reasons. I didn't know what was so exciting about this old town.

We got to stay in a hotel that was supposed to be haunted by the ghost of a lady who owned it back in the 1800s or something. I think she'd been killed by someone who was staying the night, but I don't remember. I wish I had paid attention, but as a kid, I didn't care, and I just wanted to run around. It was one of those old ghost towns that draws in tourists, if that helps. We unpacked our things, and we settled in for the night. I shared a room with my little brother, who only shuts up when he goes to sleep. He was chatting away, and I was ignoring him,

when I heard whispering coming from the room. There was an old built-in closet, possibly in addition from the 70s, I thought it was my dad playing a trick on us, and I opened the door. But no one was there. I kept hearing it and looked around for the sound. My little brother had already fallen asleep. When I woke up the next morning, I told my parents about it, and I asked them if it was them.

They said no, and they teased me saying that the ghost must have visited me. I told them that it sounded like a male voice, though. We asked the lady at the front desk about it, and I hated how everyone took this as a joke. She said that this town has its fair share of violence, and there were a lot of people who died. Their bodies went unclaimed by the city morgue, and were buried in the local graveyard.

Maybe one of these ghosts were the ones who visited me. I hated her stupid condescending face, And as a kid, I wanted to hit her so hard. I didn't say anything, and my family left to go about our day. We saw the sights, had lunch and dinner at the local places, and then came back for our final night. I was exhausted, and I wanted to sleep so badly. I didn't care if there was a ghost in my room. I walked up to my room and saw that housekeeping had given us clean sheets.

I started to change my clothing for bed when I noticed what looked like a red light on the wall that I hadn't noticed before. I got up off the bed, walked over, and stared at it. Now, around the room were random antiques to add realism, I guess, to the history of the place. I moved the wooden dolls out of the way

and discovered that a camera had been placed there. The camera was much larger than the place. ones today, obviously. My brother and I hadn't damaged anything in the room, and we only had a little bit of conversation. We were mostly quiet. Nothing to warrant a camera, and especially not somewhere where two minors were changing. I ran into my parents' room, told them what happened, and I practically dragged them into my room to show them what I was talking about. My parents are normally incredibly easy-going people. Live and let live is their motto. But this, this made them incredibly angry. They asked us to call the police, and they took the camera. A report was made, but ultimately no one

knew who had placed the camera in there, nor why. We stayed in our parents' room, because we didn't have any other options, and we left as soon as we could. I think my parents just wanted to get us home to where we would feel safe. My parents actually changed after that. They became a lot less trusting of strangers, and they wanted to know what we were doing way more often. We also didn't go on as many family trips like we used to. I changed, too.

I actually check rooms for cameras now whenever I go anywhere. That was my experience, Raven. I'm sorry that this wasn't that long, but I hope that you and your listeners can all enjoy it.