Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 11x10: Murder Down The Street

Episode Date: August 28, 2023

- The Murder Down the Street, by Anonymous (1:10)  - The Red Van, by Claire (7:55)  - The Lady on the Bus, by Lilly Mya (15:58)  - The Axe-Weilding Alcoholic, by Kelsey (22:21)  - The Break-In, by Carol (29:43)  - Post Night-Shift Nonsense, by Becca (35:23)  - To My Sister, by Anonymous (41:43)  Extended Patreon Content:  - Grateful for Mufasa and the Hunting Knife, by MJain in the Rain - The Black Truck, by Sarah - PCP Man, by PussyVision - Freaked Out at In-N-Out, by Darla - The "Free" Desk That Came at a Cost, by FreckleFaceKatieCakes  Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. 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! You’ll be amazed at what you can do with Grammarly. Go to grammarly.com/GO to download for FREE. Download the DraftKings Casino app NOW, sign up with promo code MEET. Listen to A Ghost Ruined My Life with Eli Roth wherever you get your podcasts! Check it out at here!  - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/andytatelive/

Friday September 1st, we will be presenting a full episode of Let's Not Meet Live with a Pact House of returning guest narrators all on video for free at twitch.tv slash and deta-live. That's a new account. Write it down. Tell your friends and follow us now so you don't miss it. We'll be live at 7 p.m. Pacific. I'll be joined by Soren Narnie of Knife Point Horror, fair and more of more to the story. Amanda and Cassidy from Drinking the Cool Age shall be Scott of Scary to Sleep and finally M in Christine from And That's Why we Drink. Again, that's Friday, September 1st at 7pm Pacific at twitch.tv slash Andie Tate Live. No, this will not be on the old account.

Make sure you follow the new one. We'll see you there. Enjoy the show. When I was seven years old, my family packed up and moved from Georgia to Washington. I was excited at first because I thought that we were moving to Washington, DC. Turns out we were leaving our hometown, which was Atlanta, for some small town I had never heard of in the state of Washington. My family and I would often bounce between Georgia and Florida to visit family, and I often saw stories on the news about local crime, murders, etc.

So I knew to be careful when I was playing outside. This led to me becoming pretty paranoid even at age 7. The state of Washington is a hell of a lot safer than Georgia, but moving there was a bit of a culture shock. Due to relocating to a much safer area, a lot of the rules that I had once followed no longer seemed applicable. I was able to play outside with my friends without my older brothers or parents needing to shaperone. I was even allowed to go biking around the neighborhood on the new bike I got from my eighth birthday.

I didn't feel as nervous in my new environment, which eventually led to me developing a false sense of security. The elementary school wasn't too far away from my home, so every morning my mom would walk me to school. On our walk, we would walk over the little bridge and look at the frogs and the pond while chatting. These walks with my mom were nice, but I had this brand new sparkling hot pink bike ready to take me to school.

I begged my mom to let me ride to school by myself, and I could not have been more excited when she finally agreed. The one condition was that she would follow behind in her car so that if something happened, she would be there. I was perfectly okay with this condition, as I was still a paranoid kid. So, after making this agreement, I'd bike to school by myself for the first time with my mom following behind, and it went without incident. The school day passed, just like any other, and when the school day ended, I snapped my helmet back on, ready to make the journey home.

As I peddled up the hill branching off from my elementary school, I was constantly checking over my shoulder to make sure that my mom was still there. She always was. Feeling reassurance that nothing could happen with my mom there, I peddled faster and faster, and manned it it felt good. My little eight-year-old brain was sure that this was the definition of independence and freedom. Feeling the wind in my face and the eight-kin-my-cabs as I sped up the hill, it was incredible. Until I saw the police cars. I had noticed the flashing lights from further away, but it wasn't until I reached the top

of the hill that I saw four police cars surrounding a house at the edge of the upcoming neighborhood. The house looked like just any other house in the neighborhood, except that there was caution tape around the front yard, and the flashing lights of the police cars painted the house red and blue. I slowed my pedaling as my mom came up behind me. We both stared for a second, but in that moment my mom's parental instincts kicked in. Put your bike in the trunk. I need to drive you the rest of the way, my mom said.

I groaned. I won't get anywhere near the police cars. I'll pedal right past." My mom replied. This isn't up for discussion. Put your bike in the trunk. We're going home. She then threw my bike into the back of her car and we sped off. My mom seemed on edge as we drove by the house, which prompted my mind to conjure up a variety of stories to explain possible scenarios that could be occurring. I continually pestered my mom. I asked what was going on. I wouldn't stop asking until we got home. After we pulled into the garage and I got into the house safely, my mom slumped onto the couch and checked the local news. She looked troubled, but when I asked her what was going

on, she said it was nothing. She said that an older gentleman had passed away after incurring a head injury from falling off of a ladder. Disappointed that the story wasn't as interesting as my eight-year-old brain was hoping, I went up to my room satisfied that the mystery was solved, and forgot about the whole ordeal. After all, we lived in a safe little bubble where nothing bad ever happens. Fast forward six years later, I was 14. My family and I were just about to move into a new house. In the beginning, as we were searching for houses, we were looking at the house where the incident occurred. It was on the market and relatively cheap. As my mom and I were discussing houses on the market, I asked her about that old house in particular.

Mom, do you remember the old house down the street where the old guy died? The one who fell off the ladder? I asked. Oh, yeah! He didn't die from falling off of a ladder, though. She confessed. I froze. Then my mom went on to explain that she had made that story up on the spot all those years ago. She didn't want to scare me since I was too young to be worrying about what actually happened. The real story was that there was a young man who attended a nearby church. The church took this guy in.

He stayed in that home with an older man who was living there by himself before taking the younger man in. One night, the younger man suddenly snapped and bludgeoned the older man he was staying with to death. Hearing this story effectively shattered my bubble of safety that I thought we were living in. After doing a bit of research years later, in 2023, I learned that the guy murdered the older gentleman with a shovel than fled to Canada.

It was the first murder ever recorded in our small town. Since then, more incidents similar to this one have occurred around our town. Through researching them, I've become more obsessed with true crime. Now my family and I live in a new house with a security system, and my dad has a lot of weapons in the house just in case. We still live in a pretty safe area, but that hasn't prevented me from continuing to be paranoid. I even make sure to sleep with a knife by my bed. So to the guy who rocked my quiet neighborhood with a brutal murder and then fled the country, This happened when my best friend and I were about 10 years old.

It's been almost 11 years since this happened, but it has been burned into my memory. Now that I'm older, I truly understand how much danger we were in that day. I live in the Rocky Mountain region of the United States, and if you've ever lived in that area or even passed through, you're aware of the abundance of nothing that is out there. There are miles and miles of pastures and farmlands which are broken up by slabs of granite and the occasional big city. I grew up in a small town in this region. My best friend at the time, we'll call her Sarah, lived about 15 minutes out in the heart of the boonies. Sarah and I were each other's entire worlds. We resembled each other greatly since we both had blonde hair and blue eyes and our birthdays were only six days apart.

We even acted like sisters. In the summer we spent days sleeping over at each other's houses. We went back and forth each night and did all of the fun stuff that kids do that age. We both preferred being at Sarah's house even though it was quiet, and far away with nothing but cornfields for miles. I can't express how, in the middle of nowhere, her house was. It was several miles away from any other house or town. Her house was old and the backyard was completely overgrown with old rotting willow trees.

Sarah's mom, a warrior, always warned us not to go back there as it was infested with bugs and snakes and a lot of other things that could injure us. So we always played in the front yard or side yards, where there was a stream and a patch of wildflowers that bloomed every year in the summer. where there was a stream and a patch of wildflowers that bloomed every year in the summer. On this particular day, we had been playing a game, pretending to be fairies. We had been walking and playing around growing plants and the creek.

We wandered over to the side of the house where the untamed line of backyard met the front with wildflower growth exploding everywhere. Sarah and I were just being kids, picking flowers, putting them in each other's hair, and even setting a bunch aside and a huge pile to take inside for later. That's when the red van showed up. The old thing clunked up the road and sputtered to a stop right next to Sarah's mailbox. We immediately knew that something was off.

I distinctly remember feeling the color drain from my face upon seeing it. There wasn't anything that said, hey, danger ahead. But the atmosphere shifted enough for my fighter flight to kick in. Even being that young, some unsaid mutual terror passed between us. We both hit the ground and warmed our way through the tall grass to hide. From the van, two middle aged men dressed in dingy, rady-looking clothes got out. Their hands were in their hoodie pockets, which were awkwardly bulging since something was concealed in them.

They hadn't done anything, but seeing these two guys looking around just felt so wrong. We were scared, and we knew that we couldn't hide in the tall grass forever. We both had enough, and we wanted back inside, but we were trapped. If we emerged from the tall grass and had gone around to the front, the men would have seen us. If we went around the back, we could get hurt, the men would have seen us. If we went around the back, we could get hurt, and we would have gotten in trouble for being back there. We have to go around the back, Sarah determined, and a whisper to me, tugging me towards the backyard. I was terrified of her backyard and had always said that there was no way I would

even go back there, with tears running down my face, I insisted, no, let's go around front. She wrapped her hands around me and sternly responded, no, something is wrong, we need to go around back. Our fear of the two men outweighed our fear of the backyard, so Sarah and I carefully made our way through the backyard and entered the house from the back porch. We told Sarah's mom about the men in the red van who parked near the mailbox. We let her know we saw them walking up the road. We quickly forgot about the whole thing after we ventured off into another part of her house

to play with some dolls. Sarah's mom didn't think that there was too much of a concern either as she just resumed reading her book. Then, an hour or so later, police showed up. Sarah's mom didn't provide us with all of the details of their visit at the time, so we didn't know exactly what happened at first. I remember Sarah's mom spoke to the police, and she was insanely overprotective of us, while remaining tight-lipped about it.

Then Sarah's mom revealed that the police came to the house and inquired about the red van. They asked if anybody in the household had seen anyone get out of the van in which direction we thought they might have gone. Turns out, the two men had stolen the van from the local grocery store, and they were on the run with it. It had broken down right in front of Sarah's house so they fled away on foot. But not only had they stolen this red van, but they were armed with guns and considered incredibly dangerous. As a kid, it was terrifying to be hit with such

a raw and guttural feeling of danger from people who otherwise would have seemed harmless. It's terrifying to think of what could have happened if Sarah and I had chosen to go around the front. What really gets me is, what would have happened if I hadn't listened to Sarah and gone around the front by myself? If the odds, shapes, and their pockets were guns, would they have really pulled them on two ten-year-old girls? So to anyone listening, please remember, it really is best to trust your gut, even in situations that might not seem inherently dangerous. To Sarah, who I don't talk to anymore, thanks for stopping me from walking around the front, and to the two men who stole the red fan

and then fled out into the boonies after scaring the crap out of two little girls. Let's not meet. We've all been there. Staring at a blank screen trying to muster up some words for that important email, job application, or social media post, writing can be a challenge, especially when you're juggling the million of the things. But that's when Grammarly comes in. Grammarly has been a game changer for me. You know that feeling when you're stuck on the first sentence of an important email? Well, that's where Grammarly swoops in, like a writing superhero. Just recently I was working on a pitch. My ideas were all over the place and I was struggling to create a cohesive outline, but

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writing game, Grammarly has your back. You'll be amazed at what you can do with Grammarly. Go to Grammarly.com slash go to download for free today. That's g-r-a-m-m-a-r-l-y.com slash go. Now back to the show. I'm a 17 year old female and I've lived in the UK my whole life. My anxiety is quite bad but I'm usually okay in social situations. I live in a small town, around a 30 minute drive away from the city center. I don't usually travel alone on public transport unless I'm going to work.

The crime rate in my small town is low. However, the city center's crime rate is higher. Now onto the story. I had a day off of work recently and I decided to go and visit my NAN or grandma because I hadn't seen her in a few months. I left my house just before 10.30 a.m. to catch the bus from my town into the city center. All was well and I made my way into the city center. All was well, and I made my way into the city center where I caught another bus to get to my nance house. I spent around two or three hours with

my nann and my aunt, and we had such a great time. At around two in the afternoon, I decided that it was time to leave, as I planned to meet some friends at around 7 that evening. I walked to the bus stop, carrying a large bag of things that my man had given me. Once I arrived at the bus, I scanned my ticket and sat down in the back. Just for some context, it was a one-decker bus. For Americans listening, this just means it's a bus that has one floor. Everything was fine, and I placed my bags down on the seat next to me. I put my air pods in, and I started to listen to music.

However, a lady sat in the row of seats in front of me. She immediately caught my eye. She was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, a pale yellow vest, and some white shoes. Her shoes and sweatpants appeared to have patches of fresh wet mud on them. She also had two paper wristbands on each of her arms. These paper wristbands looked like what somebody would wear in a hospital. There was also mud on her cheeks and forehead, and her hair was untamed. This was confusing because during the summer in the UK, it gets very hot.

And it was a very hot day. It was 28 degrees Celsius. Most people were wearing shorts or dresses, not sweatpants. I made a note of her, but continued listening to my music and zoning out on the bus. Five minutes later, I caught her staring at me out of the corner of my eye and it looked like she was talking to me.

People talking to each other on the bus was quite normal in this area, since the village that my nan lived in was very tight-knit, and everyone knew everyone's business. So I assumed that she was just a local trying to make conversation or maybe she recognized me as I lived with my nan for a period of time when I was younger. I took one of my AirPods out and I found that she was aggressively speaking in another language. I couldn't understand her, but it sounded like German or Hungarian. I couldn't quite tell. After she talked for about 30 seconds, she turned away from me and stopped talking. I put my air pod back in to listen to music once again, but I turned the volume all the

way down so that I could hear what was going on. A few stops later, another lady with a long dress boarded the bus and sat in the back next to me. The lady continued to shout aggressively in her language, this time towards the lady in the red dress. The lady in the long red dress didn't stick around long and she moved towards the front of the bus just seconds later. The lady that was shouting then turned to me and shouted even louder.

I took out my AirPods once again to properly hear her. When the bus stopped at the next stop, she continued shouting, but she incorporated some English words, so I kind of understood. The sun, the sun, she shouted. Look, the trees and the sun! I quickly glanced at my phone for a time then she shouted again. No, not the phone, the sun. She then started to get more aggressive towards me. I'm not sure if she was just in a bad mental state or maybe she was trying to talk to me. Either way, at this point, I was getting nervous and scared.

As I said before, my anxiety is bad, but usually okay in social situations, but I just had a bad gut feeling about this person. My stomach started to have a weird pain. My hands and knees were shaking, and I felt a lump start to form in my throat. She continued to shout, but I didn't know what to do at this point, and the bus driver didn't seem bothered by this at all. My hands were sweating so profusely that I dropped my airpod. It landed perfectly right next to her seat. As she continued to shout, I walked over attempting not to fall due to the bus shaking as it

was in motion again. I picked my airpod up and walked to the front of the bus to sit in a seat closer to the exit. After I moved, there was a young woman and her child sitting next to me. The lady continued shouting at me, and I could feel her eyes burning into me from the front of the bus. The woman I sat next to could tell that I was about to break down. Take deep breaths, it'll be alright, the kind woman whispered. She and I talked as I calmed down during the whole 30-minute bus ride back to the city center. The lady from before never stopped shouting at me or staring at me. It made me feel so unsafe, but I'm grateful for the woman and her daughter for talking to me and

calming me down. As we arrived in the city center, the lady was still shouting and I was nervous to get off of the bus because I wasn't sure if she would follow me. Thankfully the lady and her daughter said that they would walk me to my next bus stop and wait with me. I got on the next bus to go back to my small town and all was okay. But to the lady that shouted at me, non-stop on the bus, I'm sorry you were going through some problems.

But please, let's not meet again. This summer, after my sophomore year of college, I was home with my family and enrolled in summer school taking organic chemistry. The little free time that I had was spent with my hometown friends whom I didn't see often while at college. My close friend, we'll call her Bella, was house sitting one weekend for her aunt and uncle that lived around 15 minutes away from my parents. Bella and I spent the long summers having sleepovers at least once a week, so it was an obvious yes for me when she asked if I could come and stay with her while she cared for her aunt and uncle's house and three dogs.

uncles' house and three dogs. Our families were hanging out together at my house the first night that she was supposed to stay there. We left to spend the night at her aunt and uncles at around 11 pm while our families continued hanging out at my house. Her aunt and uncles' large house was in an affluent neighborhood. It sat on a hill not far from the neighboring homes. Immediately upon pulling into the driveway, she was quiet and hesitant to enter the house. I, having been to this home, was unaware of anything being out of the ordinary. We walked into the kitchen and

noticed that several drawers were pulled open and papers were scattered all over the counters and the floor. She noted that it was very odd as her were scattered all over the counters and the floor. She noted that it was very odd as her odd and uncle left the house in pristine condition whenever they left town. The dogs greeted us as well, and while I didn't know it at the time, Bella later stated that she could tell that they were acting nervous and jumpy. We carried our bags into the primary bedroom and started getting ready for bed. A few minutes later, we heard low growls coming from the living room

followed by loud barking. Bella looked anxious, which was very uncommon for my typically fearless friend. She asked if I would go with her to look outside and see if the dogs were possibly reacting to someone taking a late night stroll. Still, unperturbed, I followed her into the living room as she nervously peaked around the wall that led to the foyer in the front. Suddenly, she shoved me back into the primary bedroom, locking the door, and then she pulled me into the large bathroom and locked that door. There are NIN outside, she said, eyes wide. And then we locked ourselves in the water closet.

She called 911 while I opened a cabinet above the toilet to look for anything that we could potentially use, maybe as a weapon in case these people broke in to where we were. I was oddly calm, but she was tearing up as the operator said that there were no cruisers in the area. We gave up on the police and called our parents, who we heard, running to her family's vehicle. We could hear them screeching out of my family's driveway over the phone.

The entire time we were locked in the water closet, I heard footsteps on the second floor above us. I began to get nervous, being that the only weapon we could find was a bottle of nail polish remover. I uncapped it to have it ready to splash in the assailant's face. Our parents reached the house in just eight minutes, having gone way over the speed limit to get to us. Bella's dad crept into the house, seeing nobody, and escorted us out of the bathroom.

We sat outside on the driveway and shocked with our parents. Bella told me that when we initially pulled up to the house, a U-Haul sat in the street in front of a neighboring home. The engine was still running and there were people clearly inside. As we sat waiting for the police, we heard an engine revving on the parallel street, and we saw the U-Haul driving at breakneck speed out of the neighborhood. Bella's dad jumped in his SUV and chased them, leaving the rest of us stunned in the driveway. Finally, the police arrived 20 minutes later. Long story short, Bella's dad tailed the U-Haul until it passed the county line and got

the license plate number. Once that license plate number was checked, it was found to be stolen. Bella's uncle owned a lawn care company that he operated out of his home. His upstairs office, the door to the outside stairway was found a jar, and papers were scattered around the room, and small items were taken. It wasn't until we were outside safe and with our parents that Bella told me that she was too scared to admit before. When she peeked around the wall to look outside the windows by the front door, there were two men. They had guns and they were peering directly into the house. They were jiggling the door knob when she made eye contact

with them. We later found out that these men were former employees of her uncles who had been to the house before. Her uncle had hired them while they were on parole. To the two men who broke into a house late at night where two young women were staying all alone, let's not meet. meat. Experience endless excitement at DraftKings, Casino, where non-stop action awaits. Engage in timeless favorites, such as Blackjack, Roulette, and Slots, additionally indulge in exclusive games unavailable anywhere else.

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which require one time playthrough within seven days. See terms at casino.draftking.com slash players choice, restrictions apply. Now back to the show. When I was around six years old, my dad had this friend. He was a typical alcoholic, wife abuser who ruined his life with his drinking problem. He would frequently call my dad whenever he drank beyond recovery. My dad has always been the most noble person. He was the kind of friend that everybody respects and that they call for advice about their problems.

This isn't something that bothers my dad. He's always naturally been this type of friend to the people in his life. And this story is about an instance of him once again answering a call for a friend in need. And this is a time that it actually saved a life. We'll call my dad's friend Paul for the sake of this story. One day, Paul called my dad in the dead of night. He was unsurprisingly drunk out of his mind, saying the most horrendous slurs that you could

imagine. Paul wasn't hurling slurs at my dad, but to his own wife. With them dripping off of every word, he continued to take it several steps further, until he started saying that he was going to kill her. He was going to kill his wife. My dad, my mom, and I were all struck by shock for just a moment before hurrying over to Paul's place. Paul and his wife had two houses at that time. They were across from each other on the same street. We pulled up to their street, and my dad got out of the car. Since my younger brother and I were far too young to be left at home alone, We had no choice but to accompany our parents

on this eventful outing. Thankfully, my little brother had fallen fast to sleep and wasn't waking up anytime soon to witness any of the distress. My dad got out of the car and told us to stay put. So that's what we did. It wasn't long before my mom and I began hearing muffled, shouting, and screaming coming from the house. Waiting in the car felt like an eternity, and when we couldn't stand it anymore, we got out of the car, leaving my brother fast asleep in the back seat. My mom was too worried as we heard all of this commotion. We didn't want to hang back and wait at the car, so we went towards the house that Paul wasn't in.

As we approached the house, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There were ax marks sliced through the door, reminding me of that infamous scene in the shining. The door was locked from the inside, so we rushed over to the other house to make sure that my dad was okay. He was fine, thankfully, and he managed to get the axe away from Paul while successfully calming him down for a bit. Feeling confident that our dad had Paul under control, my mom and I headed back over to the other house, where we were certain we would find Paul's wife hiding. We cautiously asked her to unlock the door

and let us in. She did, and when I saw her face, she had wept enough tears to drown a person. Through the flood of tears, I saw terror. She was in a state that I had never seen before. Nor was I able to comprehend. Her hair was messed up, and her eyes had bags that created ditches in her face. My mom was trying to calm her down, but the sight of it all became too much for me. So I left to go join my little brother in the back of the car, where he was, fortunately, still asleep. I waited with him while my parents were still at the house. Eventually, I became too restless waiting,

so I got out of the car once again. I headed over and I saw my dad trying to take Paul back over to his wife to attempt to sort things out between them. While my dad's intentions were good, it was clear that Paul was having none of it. Pure hatred and aggression accompanied his every move. My dad quickly restrained him to stop things from escalating any further. After chewing everyone out, Paul calmed down again, but I was sure this wasn't going to be the end of his outlandish behavior.

The last thing I remember from that night was Paul turning to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot, pure red. Although he was seething with rage and alcohol, he managed to slur, and how are you doing little guy to me? The rest of the night was a blur after that. I'm grateful that my little brother somehow continued to sleep through it, not witnessing a single moment. That was one of the saving graces that emerged out of this whole nightmare. The other saving grace came a few years later when I saw Paul's wife at a mutual friend's birthday party. She was no longer with Paul and she seemed to be doing so much better.

But while she may have looked healthier and happier, the image of her face and the wake of Paul's terror refuses to leave my mind. It's been 11 years, but the amount of sorrow that stood before me that night has left me scarred ever since. So Paul, my family and I have made it many years without seeing you, but in case you don't get the message, I'll make it clear, let's not meet ever again. This is a story of how my desire to save a few bucks nearly cost me my ass, my car, or possibly both. I'm an ER nurse and I've worked the night shift for six years.

After a particularly heinous shift of epic proportions, I was heading to the parking garage. I knew that my gas-guzling monster of a car would need some juice to make it back to my fortress of solitude for a much needed glass of wine and sleep. Being the value hunter that I am, I knew that the cheapest gas was right down the street from the hospital, which was in the middle of a large city, but it was not located in the best area. It was especially risky to go there in the middle of a large city, but it was not located in the best area. It was especially risky to go there in the late hours of the night or early mornings. My shift ended at 5 in the morning. Normally I would be driving along with hustling and bustling business folks on route to some

office somewhere. However, this particular day was a Sunday, so the roads were pretty lightly trafficked. It was also the middle of winter, so it was also pretty dark at this early morning hour. I rolled up to the gas station, and given my true crime obsession, I locked my car the second I got out while scanning the seemingly empty area. As I was putting the gas pump in, I saw this woman appear out of the corner of my eye. She was heading in my direction. I wasn't initially on high alert because she seemed to be around my age. She was also dressed in business clothes and wearing Sephora style makeup. This was in the winter of 2020 when the pandemic was really gaining traction.

When she was within three feet of me, the first thing I did was ask her to put a mask on. My delirious and sleep deprived state did not set my priorities in the right order, nor consider that my physical safety and car were at risk more than my health. Without putting a mask on, she told me that she needed help with some car trouble. I told her that I didn't see her car anywhere. Remaining persistent, she said that it was around the corner, and it just wouldn't start. This is a huge red flag. I remember thinking, how dumb do I look?

Does it seem like I have the competency to fix a car? I was wearing scrubs and had eye bags larger than Texas as the stench of sweat from a long shift clung to me. She continued inching closer so I requested again. Put a mask on already. You know we're in a pandemic. Her eyes widened as she backed up to be at a further distance from me. I should have been terrified, but I was drained from work so I mainly felt annoyed toward her for standing in the way of my nap time. I took the pump out of my car before jumping back into it. I locked the door immediately as she stood there yelling, are you going to help me out or not, bitch?

With the little brain power that I had left, I cracked my window and I told her to call AAA. Then I told her to go to her car and hang tight. She grew visibly annoyed and asked, are you just going to leave me here? I stared at her and said, yes, absolutely. As I got out of there, she disappeared behind the little store in the middle of the gas station. The next thing I saw was a white car peeling out of the gas station.

She was in the backseat. There were two extremely sketchy people in the front, revealing that I was almost part of some sinister plot. I'll always advocate for people in need, but I that I was almost part of some sinister plot. I'll always advocate for people in need, but I'm grateful for being able to correctly identify this as a sinister scene, being on the offense, and insisting on keeping my distance from this woman actually saved me. As I drove home, I thanked my blessings, and I broke down over a goblet of wine once

I was safe. I was still pretty shaken up by the whole thing the next day at work. I spoke to the local cops and told them about what happened in hopes that they would be able to find this sketchy trio. When I described the lady in the vehicle that I saw her leaving, the cops' eyes got huge. He told me I was lucky to get away from that situation. These three people are well known by law enforcement, and there are many cases built up against them.

They're able to dodge law enforcement because they'll show up for a few months using the same sketchy strategy that they were using on me to steal cars, assault women, and rob people blind. After they're active for a few months, they just disappear. The situation served as a reminder to wait until daylight to fill up my gas tank. To the lady who was learning women, to do God knows what, with her sketchy friends, let's Not Meet.

You're listening to Let's Not Meet. It's a podcast about real-life stories. You know that already. And I'm guessing you also understand just how powerful these kinds of stories can be. That's why I'm excited to tell you about a ghost ruined by life, with Eli Roth from the Travel Channel. Here are the real life stories of people who have been through terrifying confrontations with the unknown and come out alive. For this podcast, Roth has gone through hundreds of submissions from real people whose lives have been ravaged by a ghost demon demon, or sinister entity.

Each episode focuses on one person's story, handpicked and introduced by Roth, and retold by the victims themselves. They talk about some of the most terrifying, unexplainable events that they've experienced, and now so can you. Listen to a ghost ruined my life with Eli Roth wherever you get your podcasts. This story took place over 30 years ago in one of the largest cities in the US. I will not name which one, as I still live in fear of what happened to me and I still fear the man who caused this pain and terror in my life and the lives of my family members. It was a normal day in July.

I was a college student at the time, and I was taking summer classes and working a part-time job as a cashier in a grocery store. On this particular day, I had classes, but I had the afternoon off from work. After school was out, I happily returned home. At the time I lived with my mom, older sister, and younger sister, who was attending school in Spain for two months of the summer. For quite a while, it had been four females living alone as my older brother was in the air force. I arrived home to an empty house, with the exception of our wonderfully sweet little Welsh corgi. I was particularly tired that day, and was considering taking a nap since I didn't

have to go to work. I was also hungry, so I walked into the kitchen to get a snack first. I heard the front door open, but I didn't think anything of it, assuming that it was my older sister returning home from work. Our funny little Welsh Corgi loved to eat, so normally, on any other day, she would have been right at my feet, waiting for any crumbs that might come her way. Instead, she was standing in the doorway to the hall, looking straight ahead, and growling. This immediately struck me as odd because it was very unusual behavior for her. She was a happy, friendly dog, who loved everybody that she met, and she certainly would not have been growling at my sister.

The way that the house was laid out, the front door led down to a long hallway where all of the bedrooms were. At the end of that hallway, there was another open doorway that led to a den dining room and finally the kitchen, where I was standing, staring at our dog. Under normal circumstances, I would have called her name and asked her what was going on, but something was telling me not to do this. I stood still, wondering what was going on, feeling perplexed. She continued to grow, and I continued to feel like something was very wrong. I didn't go to investigate, I didn't move, I just quietly stared.

From her viewpoint, she could see the front door, and if she were to turn to the left, she would see me. I stood motionless, not knowing what to do. Then he appeared, a man with a mask covering his face. I was terrified. I doubted myself. I doubted what I was actually seeing. As a female at that time, I had definitely been conditioned to never be too dramatic. How could a masked stranger possibly be standing in my home? I thought surely that it was my sister who had walked into my house. Didn't I just hear her?

Didn't I hear all the usual noises that I was totally accustomed to my family members making? Was I saying things? Was I making this up? Everything seemed to be going in slow motion. During this, our beloved Corgi never stopped growling, so reality finally hit. There was a man. He was wearing a mask. I dropped

whatever it was that I had in my hands. I no longer remember what it even was. Maybe a sandwich, some crackers or a granola bar, I don't know. I just dropped it and I ran. I ran to the kitchen door, which led to the garage. The garage door has a path both to the backyard and to the front. I ran towards the front of the house. I didn't look behind me. But when I got outside, in the driveway, there was my sister's car. But where was my sister? Was someone playing a joke on me?

This just didn't make sense. Again, I doubted myself and I froze. I don't know how long I stood there, staring at my sister's car, it seemed like forever. Should I go back inside, find her, and ask her what's going on? I was afraid. And I was confused. I felt silly and completely filled with doubt, but then, all of a sudden, there he was, standing at the open gate in the backyard.

He didn't see me at first, and he was removing his mask. Then he noticed me and began to run towards me. He had the most evil eyes I've ever seen. I turned and took off down the street. As I ran, all of these thoughts were going through my head. Where was my sister? Why was her car on the driveway? Did he steal it? Did he steal her purse or driver's license or keys? Was that how he was able to unlock the door to our home and walk in? And again, where was my sister?

I remember seeing my bare feet on the hot pavement, just my feet and concrete. It's like everything else disappeared. I kept running. I ran not knowing where I was going. I knew that he was chasing me, but I didn't know how close he was. I didn't know what he was going to do if he caught me. I was too afraid to look back.

Then he struck me with a closed fist straight to my upper spine right between my shoulder blades. He hit me hard. The force of the punch caused me to stumble to the ground, but I picked myself up and kept running. He kept following, striking me again and again as I stumbled. Our street was a long straight one, but there was a cutoff road, and as he threw another punch I continued to run and took off towards the cutoff. I kept going not looking back.

I found a neighbor outside doing work on his house. He could see that I was really scared. I briefly told him what was occurring. He looked confused and doubtful, but as I kept looking around, frightened that the attacker may return, he invited me to come inside and call the police. They arrived a good hour later and escorted me back to my home, where I found my sister waiting for other police officers. There were several police cars outside of our house. It seemed like something out of a horror movie. My sister had also called the police, fearing that I had been kidnapped. And yet, it took them that long to come to our assistance. My sister, when she finally saw me walking back towards the house,

ran over to me and hugged me. She told me how much she loved me and how afraid she had been. In her embrace, I could feel all the fear from what had just happened. I also felt all of the relief that she felt upon knowing that I was okay. We both had to give statements to a police officer with the Special Victims Division. That was when the police officer told us what they knew about this perpetrator. In all of the confusion, it ended up that I had indeed originally heard my sister come home and opened the front door. This vile man had followed her into the house. He knew that we were both home. He had planned the whole attack. He wanted to attack both of us.

The police had surmised that he had been watching us for a long time. He knew there were four females living alone in this house. He had been attacking households where only females resided. He knew we came and went at different times due to work and school schedules. The police explained to us that he had already attacked five other women in our neighborhood before us. They told us that he had stabbed the last victim. No one in our neighborhood had been informed of these attacks.

He was a serial rapist and his attacks were only becoming more violent. We came to understand that when our precious and brave little Corgi was growling, as I was watching quietly, the masked monster didn't see me. We believe that his mask was blocking some of his vision. After I escaped through the kitchen door, while I was stopped in the driveway, staring at my sister's car and completely doubting myself, he went after my sister. Sadly, I found out that he had grabbed her and held a knife to her throat. He dragged her through the house yelling, where is your sister bitch? I'll kill you. Where is your sister?"

He just kept calling her a bitch, and he just kept dragging her around, sticking that damned knife to her throat. She told him that she didn't know. After threatening her some more, he let her go, and he came for me. He found the open door of the garage and followed me outside where he found me standing and looking confused in the driveway. That's when the chasing and the punching ensued. He was never caught. One of the other details that we found out that was so disturbing was not only did he wear a mask to hide his evil and cowardly face, but he also doused himself in cologne prior to his attacks. Who does that?

Who strategizes about their scent before attacking and assaulting innocent women? After this occurrence, sometimes, when we left the house for work, school, grocery shopping, etc., we would come home, and we would smell that disgusting Cologne all along the perimeter of the house. He was still watching us. He was attempting to finish what he had started. We were always afraid. We all started sleeping in the din together in an attempt to not be so concerned or so worried, but we were always in a state of panic. My parents who were divorced, but completely cycled towards each other, decided to sell our home. We had lived there a good 20 years, but we were simply too afraid to stay there

any longer. The violent man had stolen our peace of mind and our sense of safety. Our home was just another thing that he took away from us. I'll never understand the vile behavior, some human beings choose to put forth into the world. I'll never understand humans intentionally harming other humans. I know that it's customary after recounting the tales of horror to tell all the creep of the story, let's not meet. But I want to end this one a little bit differently. During the pandemic, my kind, generous, funny, empathetic, artistic, creative, and completely magical big sister caught this awful virus. Sadly, she rapidly became gravely ill.

Due to all of the COVID restrictions, we weren't allowed to be with her while she was in the hospital fighting for her life. We weren't allowed to sit and hold each other's hands. We weren't allowed to comfort her, to tell her how incredibly important she was to each one of us and how she was loved. In the end, my younger sister and I were given permission to sit outside of a glass partition and watch as they removed her from life support. Instead of saying, let's not meet and giving any type of spotlight to the vile piece of garbage who attacked two innocent girls,

I'd like to say let's meet again to my beautiful sister because I know that we will. We'll meet in a place where only goodness, love, and peace surround us and we'll be whole again. To my sister, I love you and thank you for being such an enormously wonderful part of my life and the lives of the people that you touched with your kind and giving soul. Don't forget to stick around after the music for your extended version of this week's

episode if you're a patron, and if you'd like to get access to that, all add free head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today you'll get access to all kinds of ad free bonus content immediately. Check it out. This week you have heard The Murder Down the Street by Anonymous, The Red Van by Claire, The Lady on the Bus by Lily Maya, The Axe-Wielding Alcoholic by Kelsey, The Break-In by Carol, Post Night Shift nonsense by Becca and finally to my sister by Anonymous. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission

of their respective authors. If you have a story to share, make sure you send it over to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com and we'll take a look. Let's not meet a true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any of the message boards online. Also make sure you check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, my true paranormal podcast, welcome to Paradise It Sucks, and the old time radiocast all at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts. And I'll see you all on Friday, 7pm Pacific at twitch.tv

slash Anditate Live for the live stream episode of Let's Not Meet with a bunch of great guests. You're gonna love it. Everyone, stay safe. This is a story about one of the scariest nights of my life.