Horror Stories - 3 Creepy TRUE Summer Vacation Horror Stories | Disturbing Travel Tales

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Starting point is 00:00:56 Please gamble responsibly. Monopoly is a trademark of Hasbro. Hasbro is not a sponsor of this promotion. Hello everyone and welcome back to horror stories. I know many of you use these episodes to fall asleep so before you drift off, I'd love it if you could leave a comment letting me know where you're listening from around the world. Also, don't forget to like and subscribe if you're enjoying the episodes. Story 1. My name is Alex and I'm 12 years old.

Starting point is 00:01:28 This happened last summer when my family decided to spend our vacation in the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania. We stayed at the Kalahari Resort, a real real. place with huge indoor water parks and beautiful scenery. My parents, Sarah and Mike thought it would be a great idea for my younger brother, Ben, who's eight, and me to have some fun. The hotel was enormous with rooms overlooking green hills and a stream running through the property. At night, you could hear the water flowing, and during the day the sun lit everything up with a peaceful glow. We were excited because it was our first big trip after Dad got a new job. We drove up from New Jersey for about three hours and arrived on a Friday afternoon.

Starting point is 00:02:10 The lobby was packed with families carrying luggage and kids running everywhere. Our room was on the third floor with a balcony facing the hills. Mom said it was perfect for relaxing. Ben and I shared a bed, we even had a small kitchen area with a fridge. The first thing we did was run to the outdoor pool because the weather was hot around 85 degrees. The pool area had lounge chairs, umbrellas, and a beautiful view of the stream. at the base of the hill. Pines were everywhere and birdsong filled the air. It was like a postcard. Ben and I love swimming. He doesn't swim as well as I do, but he knows the doggy paddle.

Starting point is 00:02:50 We played Marco Polo splashing back and forth, and that's when I saw him for the first time. The man. He was sitting in a chair by the pool, wearing dark sunglasses, a plain white t-shirt, and cargo shorts. He looked about 40 with three. short brown hair and a mustache. He wasn't swimming, and he wasn't with anyone. He just sat there watching. At first, I thought he might be a lifeguard, but he had no uniform. Ben whispered to me, that guy's staring at us. I tried to brush it off, but honestly, it did feel strange. Every time we got out of the water to jump back in, his head turned toward us. The next day, Saturday we went back to the pool after breakfast. We'd eaten pancakes from the hotel buffet, which

Starting point is 00:03:38 were okay, a little soggy. And there he was again, the same man in the same spot. This time he had a newspaper in his hands, but he barely flipped through it. Ben pointed him out again, and I told him to ignore it. Maybe he was just a lonely guy or a tourist traveling alone. Meanwhile, my parents sat reading calmly in their chairs, noticing nothing unusual. We played for hours and the man barely moved. When we left for lunch at the hotel pizzeria, I looked back and he was gone. Sunday was the same. In the morning we explored the indoor water park, slides, lazy river, all that. But in the afternoon, we returned to the outdoor pool. And who do you think was there? Exactly. The man. Now it was scary. Ben told me, Alex, he's following us.

Starting point is 00:04:30 I laughed to calm him down, but inside I felt uneasy. The man never spoke to anyone, just sat there watching kids, especially us. Once when Ben dropped his towel near him, the man picked it up and handed it back with a smile. Later, Ben told me he smelled like cigarettes. That night, while we were eating burgers in the room, I told Mom what was happening. She said, he's probably just another guest. Don't worry, but stay close, Dad. agreed, saying people are just weird sometimes. Monday afternoon was when everything spiraled out of

Starting point is 00:05:03 control. We had spent the day hiking a short trail near the hotel. The views were amazing, rolling hills, sparkling streams, deer and squirrels along the path. When we got back to the hotel after dinner, Ben and I were bored. Mom and Dad were watching a Netflix show in the room, so we asked if we could play hide-and-seek in the hallways. The corridors were long, carpeted with vending machines at the corners. Mom said, Okay, but only on our floor. Don't go far and come back in 30 minutes.

Starting point is 00:05:36 I started as the seeker. Ben ran off laughing while I counted to 50 with my eyes closed by the elevator. The hallway was quiet. I checked behind the ice machine by the stairwell. Nothing. I whispered his name so I wouldn't disturb other guests. After a few minutes, I walked to the end of the hall near the emergency exit. Ben, come out, I called a little louder.

Starting point is 00:06:00 My heart started racing. It wasn't normal for him to hide this well. At eight years old, he always picked obvious spots. Ten minutes passed, and I went back to the room to ask. I knocked and Mom opened the door. Where's Ben? I asked. She said he hadn't come back. Dad got up and the three of us started searching.

Starting point is 00:06:22 We retraced the hallway. Dad checked the stairs. Mom, the vending machine. Nothing. We went down to the lobby thinking maybe Ben had taken the elevator by mistake. The receptionist with a name tag that read Karen said she hadn't seen any child alone. My stomach turned. Ben would never wander off.

Starting point is 00:06:42 He's too afraid of getting lost. We went to the pool area, though it was already closed. Everything was dark, the water still. No one there. Then we checked the arcade. Kids were playing, but Ben wasn't among them. Mom was crying now, repeating, this can't be happening. Dad called Hotel Security.

Starting point is 00:07:04 Two uniformed guards arrived and asked for Ben's description. Short brown hair, blue t-shirt, shorts, sneakers. They searched with flashlights along the trails by the stream. The hills now looked eerie, not beautiful. Crickets chirped too loudly. An hour later, still nothing. Dad called the police. Two officers from the Pocono Township Department

Starting point is 00:07:26 arrived, a man and a woman. They took statements. I told them about the strange man at the pool. He always watched us, I said. The officers nodded and asked for a description. Mustache, white t-shirt, about five feet ten inches. They checked the hotel registry and found a guest who matched Robert Hayes, room 215 second floor. He had checked in alone from another state. The officers went to his room with hotel security. Mom, dad and I waited in the lobby. I hugged mom, my hands shaking. It felt like forever before we heard shouts upstairs and hurried footsteps. The female officer came down with her radio on and said, We found the boy. Later they told us what happened. When they knocked on the door of room 215, Hayes opened calmly, but when asked to let them in,

Starting point is 00:08:21 he grew nervous. They entered immediately, as they should in a missing child. child case. In the closet was Ben, duct tape over his mouth, his hands bound with plastic zip ties. He was terrified but unharmed. Hays had grabbed him in the hallway during the game, covering his mouth and dragging him down the stairs to his room. Ben said Hayes whispered, Stay quiet or I'll hurt you. But it didn't end there. When the police found him, Hayes snapped. He pulled a kitchen knife from his bag, one of those cheap ones from Walmart, and lunged at the officer. Get out, he yelled. The officer dodged and together they tackled him. Hayes fought hard, kicking and flailing, but they restrained him, cuffed him, and called for backup. When they brought

Starting point is 00:09:08 Ben down, he was sobbing uncontrollably. I hugged him as tightly as I could. I hid behind a plant, but he clung to me. The police took Hayes away in a squat car. He turned out to have a record. prior arrest for stalking children in states like Ohio and Virginia. He was banned from being near minors, but had managed to slip through. The hotel apologized over and over and gave us the stay for free. We left the next day, silent the whole drive. Ben had nightmares for weeks, and I couldn't sleep without checking the locks. That beautiful view of the hills and the stream doesn't feel pretty anymore.

Starting point is 00:09:47 It reminds me how fast everything can turn terrible. If I hadn't spoken up about that man, who knows what would have happened. Parents watch your kids. Strangers don't always look dangerous. That trip that was supposed to be fun taught me there are real monsters in the world. Story 2. The summer of 2005 was supposed to be one of the most memorable moments for my family. A trip from Seattle to Victoria, British Columbia, aboard the M.V. Tacoma.

Starting point is 00:10:22 one of those Washington State ferries built more for function than for luxury. I was 12 years old, traveling with my parents and my 8-year-old sister Emma on what was planned as a small overnight adventure across the Strait of Wanda Fuka. The plan was simple, take the ferry at night, sleep in a cramped cabin, and wake up ready to explore the gardens of Victoria, and if we were lucky, see a whale or two. The ship wasn't a luxury cruise, no grand lounges or fancy. buffet, just a utilitarian vessel carrying about 2,500 people and a load of cars on the lower deck. Our cabin felt like a box, two bunk beds, a tiny table, and a porthole that showed nothing but black

Starting point is 00:11:06 water at night. The air smelled of salt and engine grease, and the constant hum of the engines was like background static. I fell asleep early, collapsed on the top bunk, while Emma mumbled in her sleep below, next to my parents' bunk. Around 2 a.m. I woke up suddenly needing to use the bathroom. The cabin was dark, with only a faint green glow from the emergency exit sign filtering under the door. The shared bathrooms were at the end of the hall, just a few doors down, in a corridor lined with identical cabins. These common facilities were typical of older ferries, like college dorms, but colder and creakier. Not wanting to wake anyone, I slid down the ladder from the bunk, barefoot, wearing my cartoon t-shirt and

Starting point is 00:11:52 baggy shorts and carefully opened the door. The latch made a click that sounded too loud, but nobody stirred. The hallway was dimly lit, fluorescent bulbs buzzed overhead, casting long shadows over the railings. The carpet was thin, barely softening the cold metal floor, and the air carried that salty bite. I walked the 20 steps to the men's bathroom, passing three closed doors. Inside everything was stainless steel. Sinks, a urinal and three stalls with those cheap doors that never shut right. I did my business, washed my hands and looked in the mirror, just a tired kid, hair sticking up from the pillow. As I stepped back into the hallway, I froze. A man had just turned the corner from the stairwell

Starting point is 00:12:39 leading to the main deck. He was tall, maybe five feet 11 inches, lean almost gaunt, wearing a worn denim jacket over a hoodie and faded jeans. His boots scraped the carpet, with each step. His face was sharp, unshaven, and his wide, unblinking eyes locked onto me in a way that made my stomach twist. I was only 12, but I knew that feeling my mom called, Trust Your Gut. Something about him didn't fit. Too awake, too focused for that hour of the night on a half-empty ferry. I started walking back toward my cabin at a steady pace, but my heartbeat was already racing. I glanced over my shoulder. He was still there walking. He was still there walking. in the same direction. His steps were measured, not rushed, but deliberate. The hallway was narrow

Starting point is 00:13:28 with no real place to hide or slip away, just a straight line of doors on either side. I didn't want him to know which cabin was mine. Every instinct screamed that it would be a mistake to show him where my family was sleeping. Instead of going straight back, I turned right at the next intersection into another corridor that looped around to the cabins from the other side. His footsteps didn't stop. Steady, quiet, following me. My pace quickened, the rough carpet scraping my bare feet. The corridor seemed endless, the lights buzzing louder, mocking me.

Starting point is 00:14:04 I risked another glance back. He was still there, maybe 30 feet away. His head tilted slightly, studying me. My chest tightened, and I broke into a fast walk, fists clenched. The corridor split again, and I turned down another hallway, hoping to lose him in the maze of identical passages. The ferry was large with multiple decks and criss-crossing hallways, but at 2 a.m., it felt like a ghost town. No crew, no passengers, just me and him. I could still hear his boots, that steady, unsettling rhythm.

Starting point is 00:14:40 I started to jog, breath short, lung stung by the cold air. The walls blurred past as I turned another corner. searching for something familiar. I was trying to circle back to my cabin without giving away the exact road. Thoughts raced. My family asleep, unaware. What if he followed me there? What if he figured out I was trying to throw him off? Finally I spotted the hallway with our cabin door. Number 312 third from the end. I risked another glance back. He wasn't in sight, but his footsteps echoed faintly, maybe from another corridor. I sprinted the last few steps, heart pounding, shoved the card into the lock.

Starting point is 00:15:21 The little green light took forever to blink. I slipped inside, slammed the door, latched it, and pressed my back against the cold metal. The cabin was silent except for Dad's snores in the distant thrum of the engines. I sank to the floor, knees to my chest, listening. My heartbeat thundered in my ears until I picked out something else. Footsteps. Heavier now, faster. pounding down the hallway, no longer walking, running.

Starting point is 00:15:52 I held my breath, staring at the thin strip of light under the door, shadows passed rushing by, and the sound faded as if he didn't know which door I'd gone into. I stayed frozen there, waiting for a knock, a rattle of the handle, anything. Nothing came. I didn't move for what felt like hours just leaned against the door, listening to the Ferry Creek. My mind wouldn't stop. Who was he? Why was he following me?

Starting point is 00:16:20 Was he still out there waiting? I thought about waking my parents, but what would I say? A guy gave me a bad feeling. They'd probably tell me I imagined it, that it was just another passenger heading somewhere. But I knew what I felt. Those eyes, that stare, it wasn't random. Eventually, I climbed back into the bunk,

Starting point is 00:16:41 but sleep was impossible. Every noise, the engine hum, a pipe groaning, the faint slap of a wave against the hall made me jolt. I pictured him standing right outside our door, waiting for me to come out again. When morning came, gray light filtering through the porthole, I was still on edge, my eyes gritty from lack of sleep. At breakfast in the fairy cafeteria, my parents noticed my silence, but I didn't tell them. I scanned the crowd, half expecting to see him again, but he was gone. or maybe just blended into the travelers. When we docked in Victoria a few hours later, the rest of the trip went as planned,

Starting point is 00:17:21 gardens tea at the Empress, and a whale-watching tour where we didn't spot a single whale. Still that night stuck with me. I never forgot it. Story three, I never thought a simple camping trip could turn into the nightmare that still haunts me. My name is Luke, and I'm a regular guy in my late 20s who works an office job in the city. Last summer in July 2022, three friends, Jake, Sarah, and Mike and I decided to escape the routine. We picked a secluded spot in the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York. It's a real place not far from Lake Placid, but deep enough into the woods to feel completely cut off from the world.

Starting point is 00:18:05 No luxury resorts, just us, our tents, a campfire, and the sounds of nature. We drove up in Jake's old Jeep Wrangler, loaded with coolers, sleeping bags, and fishing gear. It was supposed to be a relaxing weekend. Hikes, swims in a nearby creek, and roasted marshmallows. We never imagined it would turn into a desperate fight to save a stranger's life while fearing for our own. We arrived Friday afternoon. The drive took about five hours from the city, and the last stretch was a bumpy dirt road winding through thick pines. The cell signal disappeared about 20 minutes before we arrived, which we thought was funny at first. Finally, real disconnection, Sarah said, snapping a photo with her phone before the signal died completely. We set up camp near a clearing by the creek. Jake and Mike pitched the tents while Sarah and I gathered firewood.

Starting point is 00:18:59 That night we cooked burgers over the fire and chattered about silly things. Work drama, bad dates. The sun went down around 8 p.m. and the sky filled with bright stars. No light pollution to dim them. We crashed early, exhausted from the drop. planning to hike to a waterfall the next day. It must have been 2 a.m. when I woke up. At first I thought it was an animal moving near my tent, but then I heard it. Screams. Desperate human screams filtering through the trees.

Starting point is 00:19:30 Help. Please someone. It was a man's voice hoarse and anguished. I sat up with my heart pounding. From the tent next to mine, Sarah whispered. Luke, did you hear that? We unzipped the flaps and met around the dying embers. Jake grabbed a flashlight and Mike picked up a heavy branch like a club. The cries sounded again, closer now, from the trail that led into the woods.

Starting point is 00:19:56 We didn't hesitate. It could be someone heard, I said, pulling on my boots. We headed toward the sound, our flashlights cutting tunnels of light in the blackness. The undergrowth was thick, branches scratched our arms, and the ground was riddled with roots and rocks. After about five minutes we found him slumped against a tree about 200 meters from our campsite. He was a man around 40, wearing a flannel shirt soaked with blood and jeans torn at the knees. His face was pale and sweaty, and he was clutching his side.

Starting point is 00:20:30 Blood seeped between his fingers, dark and sticky under the beam. Oh my God, Sarah said. We rushed to him. What happened? I asked kneeling. He managed to say his name, Tom. Between gasps, he explained that he'd been camping alone a little over a kilometer away. The wound was serious, a deep gash along his ribs, about 15 centimeters long, bleeding heavily. It didn't look like a clean knife cut, more ragged like from a tool.

Starting point is 00:21:01 Tom stammered that he'd been chopping wood with his axe when someone followed him. We looked at each other, alarmed. Followed. Out here, he continued weakly. He'd heard footsteps behind him on the trail back to his campsite. He thought it was an animal until a man suddenly appeared, tall wearing a sweatshirt with his face covered. He carried a steel bar like rebar and struck him in the side. He felt his skin split. He dropped the axe and ran. The man chased him, but he managed to lose him in the dark.

Starting point is 00:21:34 He kept running until he heard our voices. My stomach clenched, an attacker in the middle of that fore. forest. We were miles from the nearest road, no rangers at that hour. Tom trembled, probably in shock, and blood was pulling beneath him. We had to act fast. Sarah, who had some experience as a nursing assistant, took charge. We need to stop the bleeding, she said. We helped him back to our camp, slow and painful, supported by Jake and me, groaning with every step. The wound kept oozing, and the air smelled sharply metallic from the blood mixed with sweat. We laid him on a blanket by the fire, which Mike stoked immediately.

Starting point is 00:22:17 We checked our phones, no signal. The nearest hospital was in Saranac Lake about 50 kilometers away, and the road out was dangerous, full of ruts and drop-offs. Driving at night was risky, but waiting until morning could be deadly. Sarah examined the wound. It was deep, exposing muscle, though at least it didn't seem to have reached vital organs. This isn't a simple cut, she explained.

Starting point is 00:22:44 The bar must have had a sharp edge that tore the flesh. With what we had, we improvised a dressing. Gauze bandages and antiseptic wipes from the first aid kit. Sarah cleaned it as best she could. Tom screamed when the alcohol touched the wound. Hold him, she said. Jake and I pinned his arms and Mike held his legs. The gauze soaked through in seconds, so we layered more on pressing hard.

Starting point is 00:23:10 Tom was weakening, his skin cold and clammy. We elevated his legs with a backpack and covered him with sleeping bags. We gave him small sips of water, though he vomited once, which worried us even more. Meanwhile, I couldn't stop thinking about his story. Why would someone attack you, I asked, trying to keep him awake. He barely shook his head. I don't know. maybe a drifter who wanted my stuff.

Starting point is 00:23:36 He didn't say anything, just hit me. We stared into the darkness of the woods. What if the attacker was still out there watching? Every crackle made us jump. Mike gripped his branch again and circled the perimeter. Jake was blunt. We can't stay. If that guy's around, he could come for us.

Starting point is 00:23:56 We decided to head for the hospital. It was 3.30 a.m. We packed up fast, stuffing the tent. into the jeep without folding them, douse the fire, and the three of us lifted Tom into the back seat. He screamed in pain as we moved him. Sarah stayed with him, pressing the wound. I drove because Jake was too shaken. Mike sat up front with the flashlight ready like a weapon. The dirt road was agony, narrow full of curves and rain ruts. I drove slowly between 10 and 15 kilometers per hour, the headlights bouncing off the trees. Every bump

Starting point is 00:24:33 rattled Tom, who groaned while Sarah pleaded. Slow Luke. The blood kept coming. She swapped soaked gauze for fresh paths. Ten minutes in, Tom started rambling. He's there. I saw his eyes, crazed eyes. Panic hit us. Was it just paranoia or was he actually nearby? Mike shone the flashlight into the brush, nothing just a deer. But the tension ate at us. Sarah checked his pulse, weak and rapid. He's losing too much blood. We have to hurry. I pushed up to 20 kilometers per hour. The Jeep fish tailed on a muddy stretch and almost skidded. My hands were slick on the wheel. We were halfway out when Tom went quiet. Too quiet. Tom stay with us. Sarah shook him, but his head lulled to the side. He was unconscious, full-on shock. She maintained his airway and monitored his breathing.

Starting point is 00:25:31 If it stops, I'll do CPR, she said, voice steady, though her eyes gave her away. Blood had soaked his shirt completely. We descended a gravel grade, the brakes squealed. And then the worst, headlights behind us. Distant at first, then closing in. What the hell? Jake muttered. Mike turned to look. Another camper or the attacker. No one knew. I sped up to 40 kilometers per hour, dangerous on that terrain. The Jeep shuttered, the suspension groaned. The truck drew closer and laid on the horn, a long low blast. My knuckles were white on the wheel.

Starting point is 00:26:14 Hang on, I shouted as I took a tight curve. The vehicle followed us, then passed on a wider stretch. I caught a glimpse of an older man in a ranger hat. He was shouting something we couldn't make out and sped ahead until he disappeared. False alarm? We never found out. Meanwhile, Tom was getting worse. His lips were turning bluish. Sarah said he was in hypovolemic shock from blood loss and needed IV fluids, which we didn't have. She moistened his mouth with the water when he opened his eyes for a moment, delirious, murmuring about the steel bar. It felt like fire tearing me open. His words hit me hard,

Starting point is 00:26:55 after what felt like hours, but was actually less than one, we reached pavement. A closed gas station appeared, and with it a bar of cell signal. Jake dialed 911, medical emergency, injured man, severe bleeding. The dispatcher sent an ambulance and instructed us to continue to the hospital in Saranac Lake, keep pressure on the wound, and keep him warm. We drove 80 kilometers per hour now on the highway. Tom barely reacted. Sarah hummed a lullabies to him, maybe more to calm herself.

Starting point is 00:27:29 We all still felt like the attacker could have followed us. The doors were locked, windows up. We reached the hospital around 5 a.m. pulling into the ambulance bay at full speed. Staff rushed out with a gurney. Sarah reported between gasps. Deep laceration, possible internal bleeding shock. They whisked him away. We collapsed in the waiting room covered in blood and dirt.

Starting point is 00:27:53 The police arrived later and took our statements. We learned that Tom survived. He needed stitches and a transfusion, but no major damage. They confirmed his story. They found his campsite ransacked, the axe missing, and footprints leading away. They never caught the attacker, maybe a drifter preying on solo campers. There had been reports of similar incidents in those woods, never formally documented. Our trip was ruined.

Starting point is 00:28:23 We drove back the same day in silence, each lost in thought. Since then, any nighttime noise makes me jump. And I know I won't go camping again. Isolation can feel like peace until it isn't.

Horror Stories - 3 Creepy TRUE Summer Vacation Horror Stories | Disturbing Travel Tales

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