Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 10x18: Evil Lived Down the Road - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: June 12, 2023

Stories in this episode: - Customers Can Be Creepy, Anonymous - The Man in the Bookstore, Megan - The Guy in the Hallway, Taylor Clements - He Concealed a Pen Camera, Paris - I Can Hear You In There!, Just the Sarah Next Door - The Couple in the Tent, Taako - Evil Lived Down the Road, TamChi416 Extended Patreon Content: - A Series of Events, by Sol Perez-Pelayo All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To submit your story to the show, send it to [e-mail].   Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week at a higher bitrate along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails, Welcome to Paradise (It Sucks), and the Old Time Radiocast at CrypticCountyPodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts! Join me at twitch.tv/crypticcounty if you dare! Go to prettylitter.com/meet to save twenty percent on your FIRST order. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ 

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Me too. Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber, limited availability and select areas, visit ATT.com slash Hypergate for details. This podcast contains adult language and content. If you have a story to share, send it to My name is Andrew Tade and this is season 10 episode 18 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror I worked in an overrated gas station for four years.

Management and the company made it clear that they did not care about their employees. I was around 25 years old and worked as a stalker for them. I hated this job. I wanted to escape, but I had to suffer until my opportunity came along. Anybody who has worked or currently works in customer service understands how horrible the general public can be. Some people will treat their store employees as if they're unworthy or less than. Luckily, there are some friendly customers that come in when I encounter them I smile and give

my best customer service voice. Most friendly regulars chat a little, then go about their business, but as every woman knows, it can be risky to be nice to strangers at times. Sometimes friendliness or helpfulness can be misconstrued as flirting. I have experienced a lot of customers forming attachments to me, but this one really takes the crown. He was an older man and he came infrequently. If I saw him, I tried my best to avoid him. Due to the childhood abuse that I went through, men have always scared me, and men that I

don't know especially scare me, so when it is possible, I dodge men like him. I wouldn't let him get close to me. One day, this older regular was on the candy aisle. I was stalking the bottom row, and unfortunately I didn't notice him until he was right next to me. My side was to my cart, and he was on the other side of me, meaning that I really couldn't move. I felt uncomfortable, and he kept talking about some candy bar.

I just politely smiled, and said a few words, to seem like I cared. My coworker saw what was going on, and knew that I wasn't okay with this old guy being so close to me. My coworker asked me if I could help her. She started telling me about this fictitious situation she needed help with so he left quickly. We talked about how creepy he was and hoped that he wouldn't return. After that, every time that he came back, he thought that it was okay to invade my space when he saw me.

He started looking for me specifically to chat me up. I always forced a smile and pretended that I was interested in whatever he had to say, and by interested I mean, I would reply to him with, oh, uh-huh, wow, always one word responses. And yet he never got the hint. I knew that something wasn't right about this old guy, Oh, uh-huh, wow. Always one word responses. And yet he never got the hint. I knew that something wasn't right about this old guy, and I started feeling major panic

at work. I was always worried about when he would show up. After a while I realized I hadn't seen him in a long time, so I was happy. He was older, so I thought that maybe he passed away. He didn't. But after what happened next, I honestly wish he had. One day I was stalking Candy again, I was daydreaming about being somewhere else, somewhere better than work. Somebody approached me very quickly and wrapped their arms around me. Due to the abuse that I went through as a child, my PTSD kicked in and I froze.

Due to the abuse that I went through as a child, my PTSD kicked in and I froze. It was the old man. He was holding me tightly, telling me how much he missed me. When he finally let go of me, I thought that I was going to pass out. Without saying a word, I rushed away and I went into the bathroom. I hid in the stall and had a panic attack. I had had enough. I finally told the manager and team lead. They weren't surprised, and they knew exactly which older man I was talking about. This man was known

for harassing, touching, and taking pictures of many female employees for many years. I was so sick when I heard this, and asked how he hasn't been banned yet. The manager told me that the man promised not to take pictures anymore. I was so disgusted and shocked. The way that the manager told me was in a way that defended the company. He was speaking as if the company was some hero or something. Instead of protecting their employees from this pervert, management ignored his behaviors since he agreed to stop taking pictures.

I asked, what if he assaults someone? My manager said, if he does, we'll tell him that he has to stop or he'll be banned. This company was awful. They did not care about their employees. They'll tell their employees that their feelings don't matter. I knew the company and management wasn't going to protect me, just like the other female employees, so I hid in the bathroom whenever he came in. Right before I stopped working there, he started coming in less and less, so I was happy.

But then one day, I went into the local Walmart down the road to get a few things. I was outside looking for flowers, when I noticed somebody in the distance rushing towards me. I'm a very paranoid person, so I'm always darting my eyes around. I looked around and there he was. The old creepy man, he was grinning and heading straight for me. My heart started to race and I felt panic. I hurried inside Walmart and he almost broke his neck trying to keep up. I hid in a clothing section and I watched him as he was looking for me. I waited until I thought that he might be gone before going to get what I needed. At one point he spotted

me down another aisle and rushed to me, but I ran away and hid again. When he couldn't find me for a second time, he seemed angry. I dropped the hand-basket that I had with all of the stuff I wanted to buy and slipped past him. I hurried to an exit and ran to my car. I didn't even buy anything. I was too frightened. I had to get out of there. I never saw him again after that. I'm 31 now and I'm still creeped out over this. I wonder what would he have done if he had caught up with me? It makes my stomach churn. I left that horrible company four years ago.

I work in the medical field now in a completely different city. I only hope that he's stopped going to that gas station or he's passed away since he was a huge pervert. To the creepy old man that was obsessed with women who worked at the gas station, don't ever try to meet me again. Next time, I won't freeze, and this happened a long time ago. I was somewhere between the ages of 10 and 12. My family and I live in the northern part of the US.

We take a vacation every summer with our extended family and drive all the way to Florida. My family is full of bookworms. All of us love to read, so when my dad found out that there was an enormous bookstore in a strip mall down there, we all decided to go. This particular bookstore was huge. If I recall correctly, it even had a second floor inside. We went into the bookstore, and I wanted to head over to the young adult section to look for books. My parents let me go with the usual warnings to not wander far or leave the store. I was in an aisle by myself looking at books when a man came down the aisle and said,

excuse me. I backed up giving him plenty of room to walk down the aisle, and I didn't really look at him. A couple of minutes later, he did the same thing. He came back down the aisle and said, excuse me. So I moved out of his way. Shortly after doing this a second time, he passed by a third time. Now I thought that this was odd. He needed to go up and down this specific aisle so many times. When I saw him come by again, I preemptively backed up to give him space. This time he stopped and said, excuse me, miss. Realizing that he was trying to

get my attention, I looked up from my book, he smiled and said, I'm sorry to bother you, I was just wondering what size clothing you were. I considered this to be an incredibly odd question, on top of that, every hair on my body started to stand on end. That survival instinct that we all have told me this was a very, very bad situation. Although this was a strange question for him to be asking, as a young girl, I had always been taught to be respectful to adults. I didn't want to be rude, so I answered. I don't know. A size five?" He smiled and said, I'm asking because you look a lot like my sister. And you're the same size as her.

She has a birthday coming up, and I wanted to get her a present. Do you think you could come with me to the store next door? You could help me pick out a sweater for her. Everything in my body was screaming at me to run, but again, in our society, girls and women are taught not to be rude. In addition to the bad feeling I had, I also wondered who in the world would be shopping for a sweater in the middle of summer in Florida. What store would even be selling a sweater in the middle of summer in Florida?

Trying to find a way to get out of it, I said, oh, I'm not allowed to leave the store. I'm sorry. The man moved closer to me and said, that's okay, it'll just take a couple of minutes. We'll be right back." As he continued to move closer to me, I set the book that I was reading down on the shelf and backed away from him. Then he grabbed my upper arm and started pulling me down the aisle.

I protested and said that I really needed to check with my dad first, but he kept saying that we didn't need to check with anyone. As we exited the aisles, my eyes frantically darted around the store, searching for anyone from my family. Unfortunately, as I said, the store was massive, so none of them were anywhere to be seen. This man still had a hold of my arm and was pulling me toward the door. I was in full on panic mode, realizing that this was very, very bad. And wrong. I absolutely should not go with this person. I don't know what made me do it, but something inside of me told me to stop dead in my tracks, so I did. I looked at the closest man to us, and I screamed.

Dad! The man, a stranger, looked at me. And the man who had been trying to drag me out of the store immediately let go of my arm and ran out without me. Then I ran around the store to locate my family. I then let them know what happened. They were visibly frightened, and my parents looked around for him, but he was long gone. I then got a lecture about not talking to strangers. I still think of this story often. Every time I enter a store with my children, or every time I hear about a child gone missing, I remember that moment and that feeling.

I remember how I knew deep down inside, if I had gone with that man, I would have never been seen again. So to the man in the bookstore who tried to take me and left me with a lifetime of fear of strangers. Let's not meet again. Are you tired of scrubbing, dusting, washing, shampooing, disinfecting, and vacuuming your entire house? Only to still catch a whiff of your cat's litter box? Well, fear not, because we have a solution that's going to change the game for you. It's called pretty litter. Nothing beats pretty litter's incredible ability to trap odor instantly. With its ultra-absorbent crystals, you can say goodbye to unpleasant smells that linger in your home. It's lightweight, low dust, and here's the best part.

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Its ability to eliminate odor is unmatched, ensuring that your house feels and smells clean. Plus there's that added piece of mine from the health monitoring feature, which is invaluable. With pretty litter, you can catch potential illnesses early and take action before it's too late. Pretty litter can help eliminate cat box stink in your house. Make the switch today. Go to pretty litter.com forward slash meat and use code meat to save 20% off your first order. That's pretty litter.com slash meat code meat to save 20% on your first order pretty litter.com slash meat code meat terms and conditions apply seaside for details now back to the show. I'm a 30 year old female.

Like any female in your life, I've had some strange encounters. Furthermore, I have worked graveyard shifts in 7-11, plaid pantries, and several hotels. I've had many dangerous and odd encounters, including being robbed at gunpoint, having to dodge the punch of a madman who believed that he was the next avatar, and having to decline many unwelcome sexual advances. This story is one that is really stuck with me though. I've lived in Oregon for the last 15 years, despite being here for over half my lifetime. I've only seen a small part of the state. To see more of the state, I've started to visit some

of the smaller towns. I'm not sure how it started, but I've been working on going to every town in Oregon that starts with the letter S. I've been to quite a few. One weekend I had a little free time so I planned on meeting my grandmother in Dallas, Oregon on Sunday, so I figured I'd drive down in that direction on Saturday and knock out a couple more S towns. In the morning I headed out to Sublimity which was right next to SIO. I was stoked to cross off two more Sounds from my list. Upon entering the town, I did what I usually do in my estound trips, I found a breakfast joint for a bloody Mary and a chicken-fried steak. While I waited for my food, I started researching hotels in the area to stay the night at. SIO was the size of my neighborhood, and it consisted of one restaurant, a general store, no hotel.

the size of my neighborhood, and it consisted of one restaurant, a general store, no hotel. Sublimity had one hotel right off the highway, so I figured that that was my best bet. When I finished my breakfast, I wandered around the general store. Then I stopped at some drift stores before checking out the hotel. I pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, and was already a little weary. I didn't even have to go inside. The parking lot made me uneasy. There was one vehicle in the front part of the parking lot. I thought that that seemed normal. The back part of the parking lot, on the other hand, was full of rundown RVs and trailers. Some of the RVs had tires missing in broken windows. Many

people know that Portland, Oregon, is getting rough. Homeless camps, abandoned RVs, and stolen cars are common, but this town was pretty far from Portland. Additionally, I could see that at least a few of these RVs had people in or around them. I figured, it shouldn't be a problem if I just park in the front. At least I had allowed alarm on my car. I went to the front office to check in and encountered a new set of problems there. The front doors were automatic doors, two sliding doors that slid away from each other, but only one worked. The door that was out of order just sat there while the tracks were grinding, trying to pull it open. There was a big

rug with several dark stains in the entryway that said, best Western. This was not a best Western hotel. The pool was visible from the front office. It was drained and being utilized as storage for tools and equipment. The hallway that led around to the rooms had a plastic sheet covering it. Should I have left? Maybe. I checked in after having a little disagreement with the front desk attendant. There was a

pull charge on my bill, and I failed to understand why I had to pay extra—$26—or something that was clearly out of service. Then I asked how I was supposed to get to my room since the hallway was blocked off and was informed that I needed to use the back entrance. This foiled my plan of staying parked in the front since I decided I would rather my car be broken into than walk by all of the RVs with my stuff. After moving my car I went inside through the back entrance and walked down the hallway to my room. All of the room doors had a holiday in logo on them. In addition to not being a pest western, this hotel was also not a holiday in. The hallway reaked of cigarette smoke, and the carpet was about as clean as the best western

rug in the front office. There was somebody in the hallway about 12 doors down from me. I gave him a polite half smile and nod before entering my room. I then sat down and started researching what else was in the area. I found out about a small strip mall that had a few shops and a pub that boasted about having the best crab dip in Oregon. So I put my shoes on and I exited the room to go get some crab dip. As I was leaving, the same guy was still in the hallway. Only now he was standing in a doorway about eight doors down from me.

I gave him another nod and I went to my car. As far as the crab dip goes, I'm not sure it was the best I ever had, but it was good. After eating some crab dip and wandering around town, I returned to the hotel to watch some food network and rest. I entered through the back door like I did before. This guy was still in the hallway. I didn't offer him a nod this time, I just rushed to my room. I was starting to wind down when I heard what sounded like a loud whisper outside of my

door. It was almost like somebody was intentionally trying to be overheard while whispering. I looked out my people and I didn't see anything, so I opened the door. The guy was one foot away from my door with his back against the wall, talking to himself. As my door swung open, he twisted on his feet and walked away. I loudly said, with the fuck, man, he didn't turn or look. He just kept on walking. I slammed my door shut and locked it. I stood by the door for a good while before I started hearing what sounded like something sliding against my door. Like when you hold your hand against the

wall when you're walking down the hall. I swung the door open and he was standing there, swiping his hand through the air since the door wasn't there anymore. He stepped away as I screamed, get the fuck away from me in my room!" I went back in, packed up the few things I had unpacked from my bag and took off. I found an actual best western, closer to where my grandmother lived. Once I was there I had a few cocktails, and I finally fell asleep after repeatedly peeking outside of my door. So to the guy in the hallway at the fake best western slash holiday in, let's not ever

meet again. It was the summer of 2015. I was a sheltered 20-year-old, living with my mother while commuting to college. I had the same boyfriend since I was 17. We met in high school and went to the same university. As you can imagine, we were close and spent the majority of our time together. That summer, a friend of his who will call Cammy invited the two of us to visit her in her long-term boyfriend, Tyler,

at a cottage that they had rented in Martha's Vineyard. Cammy came from a wealthy family, while myself and my boyfriend were middle class. We jumped at the chance to go. Cammy said that we would have our own separate bedroom and bathroom, and we wouldn't have to pay for lodging. We would just have to pay for our own meals and the travel to get there. This was a great deal. Although I had only met Cammy a handful of times and had never met Tyler before, I trusted my boyfriend's judgment, so we went.

The trip itself was actually pretty great. Kami and her boyfriend Tyler rented the place for a few weeks. They had already been up there for a week when we joined them. We arrived via Therry, and Kami and Tyler picked us up and Tyler's Jeep. We spent the weekend walking along the river, getting ice cream and exploring the island, and Tyler's open air jeep. In the evenings, we would watch movies and play board games back at the cottage.

Cammy and Tyler were a bit of an odd couple. I couldn't help but privately think that Cammy could do better. I didn't notice any serious red flags though. Tyler seemed nice and normal. We parted ways on good terms at the end of the weekend with plans to do it again sometime. Cut to the fall. Cammy and Tyler had mutually split. Cammy decided to move further down the coast for a job opportunity. I assumed I'd never see Tyler again after that.

The following summer, I was setting the table for dinner one night while my mom was cooking. The early evening news was on in the background, but I wasn't paying close attention until I heard Tyler's name read aloud by the news anchor. I whipped around to see Tyler on the TV being led across a courtroom in handcuffs. Stunned, I scrambled for the remote to turn up the volume. It turns out Tyler, who worked as a park ranger in Massachusetts, had been arrested and charged for placing a camera in the unisex bathroom of the ranger station where he worked.

He had been secretly videotaping women in vulnerable positions for who knows how long. He was only caught when a female ranger noticed the green blinking light on a concealed pen camera. She immediately turned it over to the police. They found images and videos of employees and visitors of the park in various stages of undress as well as a video of Tyler himself adjusting the camera. What an idiot.

I was obviously disgusted by his behavior. As a survivor, and a huge proponent of women's rights and safety, I couldn't believe that I had vacationed with such a scumbag. It wasn't until much later that it occurred to me that the incident at his workplace might not have been the first time he had done something like this. After all, my boyfriend and I arrived at the cottage in Martha's Vineyard well after Cammy and Tyler, and we had left before them as well. While I firmly believe Cammy to be innocent and in the dark about Tyler's inclinations,

Tyler absolutely had the opportunity to conceal cameras before we arrived. Cameras could have been anywhere in that cottage, including the bedroom and bathroom I had used. Nowadays, I always check hotel rooms for anything strange the moment that I arrive. But 20-year-old me was not as savvy. I really hope that there aren't any compromising videos of me out there that I don't know about. Tyler ended up pleading guilty but only received a suspended sentence. As far as I know, he didn't even serve any jail time.

It still makes me queasy and very angry when I think about vacationing with and staying under the same roof as a sex offender. So Tyler, let's never meet again. This situation happened in my current home. I can truly say it was one of the scariest nights of my life. I'll start by saying, I don't live in the best area. It's filled with either brand new freshly built homes or homes with corrugated metal covering holes on the roofs. Think gentrification at its finest. That being said, the area isn't particularly dangerous or anything, or at least that's

what I thought at the time. One day my boyfriend was in the yard with his mother smoking a cigarette and chatting when a man walking by decided to cut through our property. My boyfriend hates this. He told the man who appeared to be in his late fifties to walk around the property line instead of through it. Let's just say that my boyfriend most likely used some colorful language

while making this request. The man yelled back some unintelligible grumblings, then walked away, after distinctly saying, I'm gonna get you out of this neighborhood. Later that day, a red car rolled by the house multiple times. My boyfriend noticed it, but he wasn't too concerned about it until the car rolled by slowly enough for him to see that there were five men in the car.

They were all staring at him as they passed. Weird, but whatever. This is where I enter the car. They were all staring at him as they passed. Weird, but whatever. This is where I enter the story. I came out to our front yard with our six-month-old daughter to say hello to my boyfriend's mother. The red car came around again, but this time it stopped in front of our house. The driver shouted, what a pretty little bitch you got there. You can't imagine the things we're going to do to her by the end of the night. Then the driver punched the gas and flew into our gravel yard, peppering the cars with loose rocks before speeding off. I was left wondering what the heck was going on when

my boyfriend filled me in about the events that happened earlier. I immediately called the cops because, with the little one at home, my mama bear instincts are always in full force. The police came back, took a statement, got a brief description of the car, and let us know that they'd keep an eye out. Now, I'm not anti-police or anything, but I am aware of their limits, so I didn't expect much. We assumed that this was probably just an idle threat, but remained cautious as we went about our day. As the sun was setting, I was in the kitchen feeding our daughter when I heard more yelling outside. The yelling was coming from our front yard. My boyfriend was also

on high alert, so he was waiting on the porch with a gun in hand. More yelling was coming from a car, and I heard more gravel being thrown around. But the most alarming thing had yet to occur. As the commotion out front was making me nervous, I grabbed my phone and prepared to call the police again. I froze as I heard a soft voice coming from my open kitchen window that sits at the back of the house. I can hear you in there. I can hear that little kid of yours.

Your man's really gonna regret what he did. The voice threatened. I immediately grabbed my daughter and got into our bedroom closet and called the police. By the time that the operator answered, I heard screeching tires outside, and my boyfriend's screaming at the car as it sped down the street again. The police came back and we gave them as much information as we could, but again, our expectations for action or a follow-up or a low. My boyfriend told the police that the car was out front, and they were yelling threats,

specifically about the things they were going to do to my daughter and me, in graphic detail. The men created a distraction so another man could make his way to the back of our home to deliver threats directly to me. The intended target. I constantly wonder if the man's buddies out front warned him that my boyfriend was armed. I also wonder if it was all just some really messed up scare tactic. Either way, my heart almost beat out of my chest every time I heard a noise for the rest of the night.

We haven't heard a single thing since that night, not from the police, or from the group of men that terrorized my family. However, while driving through the neighborhood the following week I did see that red car. It turns out we can see the owner's back fence from our front porch. We had very little reason to ever go down that street, so we weren't familiar with that car until that day. I called the police and gave them the license plate of the red car and told them I was positive that this was the same person, but nothing ever came of that either. We put cameras up after this, just in case they were planning on returning after luring

us into a false sense of security, but luckily nothing else ever happened. It's been about a year and I still see that red car parked in the driveway. I don't know what possessed those men to take actions like they did after one of them was scolded for walking through our yard. It still scares the hell out of me that the owner of the red car is actually my neighbor. And even though he is my neighbor, let's not meet. I'm a Canadian living in Calgary, Alberta. I'm a Canadian living in Calgary, Alberta. Officials have been completing renovations to the rain drain system in my area.

This is resulted in temporary closures for several of my favorite dog parks. I need to define a different dog park for my old, ball-obsessed border collie and my young way-to too friendly German Shepherd. The park that I found ran along a ridge overlooking the highway. There were mountains and a beautiful view of the city from there. It became one of my favorite places to destress after work. For visual purposes I should mention that there is a small spot off of the road for cars to pull into a semi-narrow path. From the narrow path, there are thick bushes that open up to a wide open field. There are a couple of encampments that have popped

up down by the river, I've seen a few of them throughout the years. One encampment consists of solid people who just want to be left alone so they don't bother you. They're respectful of the area, and they keep to themselves. However one day, I noticed that there were a few tents newly set up on the campsite closer to the pathway. I had my headphones on, but not at full volume so that I could be aware of my surroundings. I may be a large man, but I know I wouldn't be any good in a confrontation. The weird encounter I had was after I parked my car and I let my dogs off leash. I was throwing the ball, and I realized someone was watching me from a campsite when I turned

my head. This man pulled his shirt up over his face and continued staring at me. It takes less than a minute to walk past the campsites, ordinarily, the people at these campsites had never given me any reason to be weirded out. But I was creeped out by this man, he was watching me, but I kept walking with my dogs. I walked the dogs along the path until I could tell that they had just enough energy to make the walk back. The walk back to the car was pretty uneventful, until we reached the corridor, past the bushes. It was at this point that my gut was giving me a danger signal.

I paused my music and removed my headphones, just in case. I wanted to be aware of what was going on around me. Someone had set up a little tent beside a bush. This tent was completely visible, not hiding like the rest of them. I could hear two voices from the tent. They were quietly chatting as I passed. And, as I was passing, I heard the tent open. My German shepherd is a very friendly dog who loves to meet people, so when she looked back, that signal that somebody was behind me. I stepped

to the side and I listened for a bike bell or somebody trying to pass. I hadn't looked behind us yet, but I noticed she kept looking back and wagging her tail. I knew someone was right behind us even though we had been alone on this path for 30 minutes. I started walking at my normal pace until I got to my car. Now, as I was walking up to the car, I could see somebody behind me and my dogs in the reflection of my window. They were lurking on the edge of the little lot with their eyes on me.

I quickly loaded my dogs into the back seat by tempting them with the treat from my pocket. I then closed the door. Hello, I asked as I turned around. The person following me was a woman who quickly crossed the small parking lot to stand within talking distance. I greeted her as I reached for my door handle. I'm sorry, but do you have the time? The woman asked. I took my crappy work phone out of my pocket since my gut was telling me not to take my personal phone out.

I told her the time, and it was 4.07. She thanked me, and then looked back at my door, as she shuffled by. I drive a four-door car. I was standing with my back to the driver's side handle. She kept eyeing my dogs in the back seat. I realized she was glancing between my hand and the back door handle. Then I noticed him. There was a man lurking on the edge of the lot with a hoodie pulled up trying to be casual. I could see him inching closer and looking around. The woman noticed my attention,

shifting, so she started asking me about my dogs. I answered quickly and vaguely while making sure to keep them both in my sight as best as I could. I could hear my gut urging me to get in the car and go, but here's the thing. My gut was telling me to keep my back to the car and keep my eyes in front of me. I listened to my gut often, and it's very rarely wrong. The woman started to seem stumped about what to ask about the dog's next, as she realized I wasn't interested in the conversation. She then stepped forward and immediately shifted into asking me for money, gift cards,

a lighter, and a ride to get money or food nearby. I tried to answer no during her outburst of requests, but I was very uncomfortable. The guy who was lurking broke into a quick stride toward me with his hand in his hoodie pocket. Panic was setting in and all I could do was reach for my pocket. The perk of working in a warehouse is I generally forget about box cutters in my pocket at the end of the day, so there's almost always a box cutter in there. I tried to slowly reach for it as the guy was closing in, then I heard the sound of a car horn and gravel crunching.

The dude took off as a silver SUV whipped into the parking lot, laying on its horn. The driver watched the woman and the man run and gave me a nod as I jumped into my car. I ripped out of that lot as fast as I could. The next day on my drive to work, I noticed the tent that they were in was gone, and it looked like their belongings were strewn across the field. After work, I went back and I walked my dogs as usual, and only saw a guy who I had seen many times before. He gave me a small wave before going back into seclusion.

To the man in the Silver SUV who blared his horn to give me a chance to run, thanks, and to the creepy tent couple. I don't know what your end goal was, but let's never meet. The final story this week contains references and descriptions of animal harm, listener discretion is advised. When I was in 2nd grade, my family and I moved to Alabama. We lived in a house out in the country. There were no kids in our previous neighborhood, so I was very excited when I met a girl around

my age who lived about a quarter of a mile down the road from our new home. Her name was Cheryl. She and I became fast friends and played together often. Cheryl had an older brother who was around 16 or 17. I can't remember his name, so I'll just call him Chester. Chester was a big guy, not really overweight, but not muscular either. He was just big. He had dark greasy hair, pale skin, and a raging case of teenage acne. There was also a strange unpleasant odor about him. He smelled like cabbage, boiled, and hot dog water. I could tell that Cheryl was afraid of Chester, but she never told me why. He was always lurking around and we often caught him watching us.

Whenever that happened, Cheryl would grab my hand and say something like, let's go hang out in my room or let's go play outside. She would always say anything that she could think of to get us away from him. So one day when we were playing in Cheryl's backyard, Chester came home carrying a small, crumpled, brown paper bag. He was red faced and sweaty, and he had a weird smile on his face. I remember thinking that it was the first time I had ever seen him smile. Chester put the bag on the ground by the clothesline, then he went to the shed and pulled out

a ladder. He took the ladder over to a tree and began to climb up. I looked at Cheryl, and I noticed that she started to cry. She began pleading to him, Chester, please don't do it. I had no idea what it was, but from Cheryl's reaction I could tell that Chester had done whatever he was about to do before, and it was not good. I knew there was a bird's nest in that tree that Chester was climbing because Cheryl and I had heard baby birds chirping somewhere up in the branches. We had watched the mother bird flying into the tree with insects and worms hanging out of her beak. At first, I thought that Chester was going to look at the nest, but then Cheryl continued to cry and beg, a sense of dread filled the pit of my stomach. We watched Chester reach into the leaves of

the tree and then pull his hand back out, shoving something into his pocket. He made this motion twice more as Cheryl continued to beg him to stop, but he continued to ignore her. Chester climbed down the ladder and walked over to the clothesline. He took a clothespin off of the line with one hand and reached into his pocket with the other. In between Cheryl's sobbing, I could hear frantic chirping sounds. Chester took the clothespin, and he used it to fasten a tiny baby bird to the clothesline,

hanging it by its little feet. Then he picked up the bag and took out a small red package. He opened up the package and began fiddling with something. I took a couple of steps to the right to get a better look, and I saw that Chester had firecrackers. I don't remember what these firecrackers were called specifically, but they were the kind of firecrackers made up of a bunch of short red sticks with fuses woven together so all of the sticks could be lit at once. Chester unraveled the fuses to separate the firecrackers. He put a few in his shirt

pocket and put the rest in the bag. Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a box of matches. That's when Cheryl grabbed my hand and practically dragged me up the steps and into the house. As we ran, I glanced over my shoulder at Chester and I was absolutely horrified at what I saw. I won't go into any further detail here. I'll just say that it was sick, twisted, vile, and brutal. Cheryl continued to pull me until we were in the kitchen.

Her mom was standing at the stove with her back to us. She was holding a spatula and staring at a sizzling skillet. As Cheryl pleaded furiously with her mother to make Chester stop, we heard the first bang followed by another bang and quick succession. Cheryl dropped to her knees and screamed as she covered her ears. She stayed on her knees and continued begging for her mom to do something. when Cheryl's mom finally turned around and faced us. I almost didn't recognize her. She looked awful. Her eyes were red and swollen with dark circles under them. It was obvious that she had been crying. Cheryl's mom sternly said,

there's nothing I can do, I'm trying to make dinner." Then she ordered us to go play in Cheryl's room. Looking back on it now, I believe that her mom was also afraid of Chester. As we walked down the hall to Cheryl's bedroom, we heard a third and fourth bang. Cheryl didn't scream this time, but she still covered her ears. We got to Cheryl's room, and her sobbing had subsided into muffled cries and sniffles. She reached under the bed, pulled out monopoly, and began to set up the board. By the time we heard the last two bangs, Cheryl barely flinched.

While Cheryl was setting up the game, I went to the bathroom, stood on the toilet, and peaked out the window, overlooking the backyard. Chester was standing next to the clothesline with a mist of smoke swirling around him. He must have caught a glimpse of the movement from the window when I pulled the curtain aside because he turned and glared at me. Then he slowly waved at me, still wearing a creepy smile.

His freaky smile paired with his dead eyes, chilled me to the bone. I dashed out of the bathroom, stopped quickly at Cheryl's door to tell her that I had to go, then ran all the way home. When I barreled through the door, my mom stopped me to ask what was wrong. I didn't have the words to explain what I had just witnessed, so I just mumbled. Cheryl had to help her mom with something. Then I went to my room and closed the door. I didn't go back to Cheryl's house for a long time after that, although we still sat together on the bus. Neither of us ever mentioned what Chester had done that day again. Cheryl invited me to come over many times after that, but

I always made up excuses why I couldn't go. Finally on the bus ride home, on the last day of school before summer break, she invited me over again and I agreed. I planned to go to her house the next morning, around 10.30, so we could watch Land of the Lost and play a new board game that she had got for her birthday. I arrived at Sheryl's house a few minutes early the next morning. As I knocked on the front door, I was startled when it suddenly flung open. I looked up and I saw Chester standing there with that same scary smile on his face. My gut immediately told me, run.

I felt fear shoot through every fiber of my body, and it was screaming at me to bolt out of there. But I was young, and I had not learned to trust my instincts yet. So I swallowed my fear and I told Chester that I was there to watch TV with Cheryl. He did an exaggerated, welcoming gesture with his arm and said, Come on in, Cheryl's watching TV in my room. I found this odd because Cheryl usually did everything she could possibly do to avoid Chester.

But again, I dismissed these feelings. I walked through the living room and I turned to go towards Chester's room, which was the last room at the end of the hall. The lights were off in the hallway and it seemed unusually dark and contrast to the brightness of the living room. It was like walking into a tunnel. I hesitated a bit, not wanting to enter the dimly lit corridor, but Chester was following uncomfortably close behind me.

He was so close that I could hear him breathing, but I kept walking. I reached the doorway of his room, and I looked inside, but there was no one to be seen. I turned around to ask him where Cheryl was, and I was alarmed to see that he was just inches behind me, looming over me. He smelled so bad. I took a few steps backward to get away from him, but that only put me further inside of his room. He slowly advanced towards me, and I continued to back up until we were both far enough inside of the room, that he was able to close the door. He reached behind his back, and I heard the click of a lock. He was smiling,

but his gaze was icy and menacing. His eyes were fixated on me. I repeatedly asked him, where is Cheryl? But he didn't react. He didn't answer or even speak. He just flashed his signature chilling smile. Chester backed me all the way into the far corner of his bedroom until I felt my back hit the wall. I knew that there was no way for me to escape. I felt hot tears streaming down my face. Chester reached both of his arms out towards me, and the motion that people make when they want to give somebody a hug. I squeezed my eyes shut while suppressing the scream that was fighting to get out of my throat. I was wishing that I could just melt into the wall behind me and disappear.

Chester roughly shoved his hands underneath my arms, and I felt myself being lifted off at the floor. He was moving my body toward his bed when I heard the faint sound of tires crackling onto the gravel driveway outside, the crackling grew louder, and then stopped. I heard the sound of two car doors opening and closing. Someone was there. Chester heard it too, because he immediately dropped me to the floor, growled a few curse words, then stepped away from me so that I could leave.

I scrambled to my feet and sprinted to the bedroom door. I fumbled with the lock until I finally got it open and I took off down the hall. I reached the front door as Cheryl and her mom were coming in, carrying bags of groceries. I pushed past them without saying a word and I high-tailed it all the way home. I went straight to my room, glapped on the bed, and sobbed for what seemed like hours. My family moved before school started again that fall, so that was the last time I ever saw Cheryl. I hope she's doing well. I still feel guilty about not telling anyone about what happened with Chester that day, although I doubt if it would have made

any difference in Cheryl's life. I made an effort to forget about that incident, and I put it behind me, but I still had nightmares about it for a few years. There's no way of knowing exactly what Chester had in mind for me that day. I think that it was most likely assault. At the time, my eight-year-old brain thought that he wanted to kill me, the same way that he did the baby birds, and that's what happened in most of my nightmares. Over 40 years have passed since this incident, and I rarely think about it now.

Since then, I've been through so many experiences that were scarier and more traumatic, but I feel like that day had a particularly profound effect on me. Even though Chester didn't get the chance to physically hurt me, he still took part of my innocence away. He showed me that there is true evil in the world, and sometimes evil lives just down the road from you. Or, as it was for Cheryl, sometimes evil is part of your own family. So to Cheryl, if you hear this, I'd like to say that I'm sorry that I couldn't do anything

to help you. I hope that you're okay, and I hope that you've found happiness in your life. To Chester, you psycho freak, I'm glad that we'll never meet again. Let's keep it that way. Don't forget to stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended, ad-free version of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. If you'd like to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet podcast to sign up and support the show today. This week you have heard, customers can be creepy by anonymous,

the man in the bookstore by Megan, the guy in the hallway by Taylor Clements. He concealed a pen camera by Paris. I can hear you in there by just the Sarah next door, a couple in the tent by Taco, and finally Evil lived down the road by Tam Chi 416. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's not meet a true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. As always, if you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com

and we'll take a look. And don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts, Odd Trails, my true paranormal podcast, as well as welcome to Paradise, It sucks, and the old time radiocast all at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts. We'll see you all next week. Everyone, stay safe. In 2008, I was in Paris visiting some friends that I had made.