Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 11x18: The Rake Man

Episode Date: October 23, 2023

Stories in this episode:  - Boundaries Matter | Maya (0:38)  - Squatter Neighbor Who Had a Machete | Alyx (9:19)  - Psycho Taxi Driver | Anna K. (18:00)  - Co-Worker Turned Stalker Turned Catfish | Craig (24:08)  - A Small Town Oklahoma Story | Callie (30:39)  - Help Me | Donna (35:20)   - The Rake Man | Jeremy (39:30)  Extended Patreon Content:  - How I Learned About Magic | Brooke  - The Midnight Chaser | Jamie  - Close Encounter in Paris | Stefani  - A Road Rage Encounter | Vanessa  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! Go to grammarly.com/PODCAST to download for FREE today.  - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ 

This podcast contains adult language and content. Listen to discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. This happened fairly recently. I've changed everybody's names as I'm still friends with most of the people involved with this story. Before I jump in, I need to give you some back story. I recently moved into my first apartment. My parents decided to move back into our home state, but I want to just stay where we were since I didn't want to

leave my friends. Because of this, I started to get back into musical theater as a way to meet more people and make more friends. I felt that having a community of people would be nice since my family wasn't going to be close to me. One of my friends, who I'll call Emma, had been involved in the theater for a long time. I've known Emma since high school. We're now 22 and 23. We kind of grew apart after graduation because of our schedules. There was no bad blood at all, just life getting in the way. My new apartment is directly across the street from Emma's house, so we recently reconnected. Emma actually helped me get a part in an

ensemble for our local theaters upcoming production. This is how I met my new friend Ryan. Ryan was so sweet from the get go. So, Emma, Ryan, and I all started hanging out pretty much constantly. Now under the story, it was a Sunday. My then boyfriend and I had gotten into a fight. I was ready to break up with him, but I sent him home from my apartment so that I could have some time to cool off and really think about where our relationship was headed. After I sent him home, I realized that he still had a key to my apartment. He wasn't a bad guy. He was very nice and wouldn't hurt anyone, but I did not want him to be able to walk back in whenever he wanted to. So I headed over to Emma's to distract myself and avoid the potential of

my boyfriend showing back up. Emma wasn't home, but her mom was. Emma's back porch is our friend group's usual hangout spot, so I was just sitting back there talking with Emma's mom. Emma and Ryan came back to Emma's house pretty quickly after finding out that I was over there. They had been at the Rind Fair. I was supposed to go with them, but I was over there. They had been at the Rennfair. I was supposed to go with them, but I was too tired and going through a lot with my boyfriend and going out wasn't enticing for me. When they got back, they brought a few other people over with them who had also gone to the Rennfair. This is where I met Gabby and Mark. They were engaged. We were sitting out back talking and drinking. After a while, Emma's mom headed to bed.

We decided to walk over to my apartment so we wouldn't disturb Emma's mom. We brought over a full, gallon-sized bottle of Sutterhouse wine and a normal-sized bottle of glitter wine. This is about when I stopped drinking because, like I said, it was a Sunday. I had a meeting the next morning at work, and while it was a Zoom meeting, I still didn't want to be fighting a hangover. We were all sitting on the kitchen floor, talking, when our conversation got very deep. Now, here's something that I didn't know at the time. Gabby doesn't

handle alcohol well. She doesn't get sick, but she just gets very touchy. I think it was around 1130 when Emma and Ryan decided to go home. We all walked out onto my porch and Mark said that he was going to get the car because Gabby was extremely drunk. When Mark said that he was going to go get the car, I assumed this meant that they were also planning on leaving. I brought Gabby back inside thinking that it would be better for her to sit in the warm house instead of outside. This was a mistake.

When we went back inside, Gabby asked about my cat. I said that I would try to find her, but she hates meeting new people, and was probably hiding in a spot that only she knows about. I told her I would go look for her while she sat on the couch, but she followed me around, room to room, which made me feel a bit uneasy. I don't like to have people in my bedroom unless I specifically invite them in. It's just my safe space. Anyway, we went into the bathroom and I went to look behind the toilets and that's where my cat sometimes hides. I bent over the toilet to look and when I stood back up, Gabby wrapped her entire arm around

my waist. I don't like physical touch unless I initiate it, so I pulled back and said, what are you doing? She giggle and said, oh sorry, I was trying to look for the cat. I went ahead and brushed it off since she was so intoxicated. I told her that we were never going to find the cat because she's a master hider, so I suggested that we just go wait for Mark in the living room. I sat down on my shorter couch and she sat down on the long one.

Her fiance came back in and sat down next to Gabby on the couch. I thought maybe he wanted to make sure that she was able to walk before they left. And as soon as Mark sat down, Gabby got up and sat directly next to me. Nearly on top of me. I kind of scooted away, but she moved even closer. Now before I continue, I want to say this, I know what I should have done. I do think I'm a smart person. I always thought that I would do better in a situation like this and hold my own, but

it's impossible to know how you'll react in unique situations until one happens to you plus. Everything happens so fast that I was just stunned. I didn't know what to do. I mentioned that I had a meeting in the morning and told Gabby and Mark that I would really like to get to bed. But they looked at me. Gabby asked what time the meeting was, and I just said, first thing in the morning. The meeting was nine, but I didn't want her to know this, just in case she thought that nine wasn't early. They both said, okay, but they continued to sit on my couch.

At this time, Mark stood up and started to wander around my apartment. This made me very uncomfortable because, as I said before, I don't like people in my bedroom, especially people that I just met that night. While Mark was walking around, Gabby started asking me personal questions. She asked, do you have any kids? I laughed and said, no, I have a little sister. Then she rattled off a bunch of other invasive questions, have you ever been married or you engaged?

Are you still a virgin? I didn't know what to say, I just briefly mentioned my boyfriend and kind of moved on. Then she turned on Netflix and started to play a comedy special. This was when Mark came back in. He sat on the other couch and just started staring at me while Gabby watched this Netflix special. This was when Gabby started touching me. When I would ask her to stop, she would laugh, apologize, and then make another attempt to touch me a few seconds later. She kept moving her hand further and further at my thigh.

I texted my boyfriend to come over to my place immediately. I just didn't know what to do or how to get out of that situation. I was too stunned. Apparently, I don't have fight or flight, I freeze. The awkwardness of her touching me continued until my boyfriend knocked on the door. Gabby and Mark made eye contact with each other, and looked very annoyed and confused. I immediately jumped up and went to open the door. My boyfriend, not so gracefully, asked them to leave because they were making me uncomfortable. Gabby looked at me, and then mark apologized as they gathered their things and left. I immediately started to cry. My boyfriend blamed me for the whole situation and said that I was being too inviting since I had been drinking. I actually

ended up breaking up with him. Emma felt bad about what happened and promised that I would never have to see Gabby or Mark again. I just want to say to anyone listening, if something like this happens to you, it's not your fault. It doesn't matter if you've been drinking, you're not responsible for other people's actions. Stand up for yourself and be rude. Your boundaries matter. In summation, I want to thank this podcast for bringing us scary stories and safety tips every week. But to that engaged couple who were blatantly ignoring

my boundaries, let's not meet ever again because if we do, I'm no longer afraid to be rude. I've been listening to the podcast for a while, and I thought that it was time to share a story that I never thought I would share publicly. I'm 22 years old at the present, but when this story happened I was 15 and my younger brother was 13. We lived in a kind of rough neighborhood, but our direct neighbors always seemed friendly enough, so I felt safe. My brother and I are very close and we spent a lot of time together. We used to walk to a nearby gas station at night to hang out, or we would sometimes go smoke pot

in the alley until it was super late. It was around early fall and our neighbors had a fire. It was pretty crazy. It pretty much burned their whole house and part of my other neighbor's yard. The family that had been there had to move out, and after they did, everything seemingly went back to normal, that is until the man who was living there decided to keep hanging around. I guess he never left after the fire and continued to live in a tent outside in the yard of the property. The yard was unkempt, so it was pretty easy for him to live

there without anyone realizing it. As far as being a neighbor goes, my dad has a tendency to be really nice and talkative with everybody. He's the type who will bring food over to as many neighbors as possible whenever we have cookouts and things like that. Since my dad was so nice, everyone always asked my dad for favors, and he would do them even if the rest of the family was telling him not to. One day, the guy who was living in the yard of the house that had a fire, asked my dad for help, finding a job. My dad does many side jobs like yard work and house cleaning, so he was a great person

to ask for help with this. But my dad felt weird about this guy, so he uncharacteristically said no to helping him. I didn't see the guy when he came by to talk to my dad but my brother did. My brother told me that the guy was very jumpy and seemed like he was on something. The guy kept coming by and he kept asking my dad about getting a job. He came by just about every day for a week, but my dad stood firm and let him know that he couldn't help him.

I was curious and wanted to get a look at this guy so when he came by to talk to my dad, I took a peek at him. He was 5'11 and had a stocky build. He was covered in sores and was very erratic in his movements. But what really scared me about him were his eyes. His eyes were brown, but when he got angry and yelled at my dad, they seemed to turn some kind of golden yellow color. They just seemed evil.

That's truly the only way that I can describe them. After my dad and this guy had a heated conversation, my dad stood his ground. But the guy didn't leave us alone at all. A few days later, I started hearing some strange rustling sounds outside of my window. Initially, I assumed it was just the wind rustling around some leaves. Initially, I assumed it was just the wind rustling around some leaves. But my dogs began to growl when the noise was happening, which I thought was strange. I told my brother about it, and he said that he had been hearing the rustling noises as well. He said that maybe it was the guy that kept coming by to talk to my dad, but we thought

that there was no way that could be him, but we were very wrong. About five days after I first heard the rustling, I started hearing noises really late at night. One night, I was lying in bed on my phone at one thirty in the morning when I heard a snap. It sounded like a branch being broken. Then, a distinct grunt. It was like somebody stumbled. My dog immediately started going crazy. I jumped out of bed, tearing my blinds open to look outside. There was no one. I stood there, though, staring into the dark, but nobody was there. I was so sure of what I had heard. After peering through the darkness for a bit, I tried to go back to bed, even though I felt uneasy. The next morning I talked to my brother about

it, and he said he didn't hear anything, so I second-guessed myself, and assumed maybe I didn't hear anything at all. But then, the next night, the same thing happened. This time, I left my blinds open and had a flashlight with me. My plan was to catch this person who was creating this noise since I felt like I needed to see who it was in order to feel safe again. Not around two in the morning, I started nodding off when my dog looked at the window and started growling. I froze. Nearly every hair on my body stood up. I listened intently, and I clearly heard somebody pacing up and down the brush behind my window. I was terrified as the steps came closer and then stopped, right outside my window. I could feel somebody's eyes on me, but I felt like I couldn't move.

My dog stood up and started growling loudly at the window. I don't know how, but I snapped out of my frozen state, and I flashed my light at the window. There he was. I saw half of his face in those evil golden yellow eyes staring at me. I froze again when I looked at his eyes. I was too scared to move. He didn't move. He didn't even blink. He just stood there and stared back at me.

I was shaking. I had never felt so helpless. I always thought that in this kind of situation I'd be a badass. I was capable of being a badass because at the time I was a boxer, but that had melted away in this situation. I was just frozen and vulnerable. Finally the man turned around and slowly walked away. As he walked away I heard the same noise that I had been hearing, which was the shuffling of the leaves and the branches breaking. I couldn't believe it. I ran straight out of my room and practically banged on my father's bedroom

door. My dad anxiously ran out with his handgun and went to go look for the guy. He didn't find him, but we called the police and told them everything. We didn't know that the man was living in that backyard of the burned-down house. The police went and looked around and they found him there, with drug paraphernalia, some canned food, and a very large machete-type knife. We decided not to press charges and they arrested him for squatting. I never saw him again after that night, but from that night on, anytime I see a dark window, or I hear a bump in the night, I see a dark window, or a hear a bump in the night. His evil yellow eyes pop up in my head. To the squatting neighbor who had a machete, I don't know what you had planned or what you were going to do.

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That's g-r-a-m-m-a-r-l-y.com slash podcast. Now back to the show. The story I am about to tell you happened in Athens, Greece back in 2007. I was 17 years old. My friend Maria and I were getting all dolled up to go to this inauguration party at a well-known hair salon chain. The place was far from the district where our houses were, so we opted to take the train and then transfer to a bus or call a taxi to get to our destination sooner and easier than our other transportation options. Once we got off the train, we decided to start walking in search of a taxi. Back in 2007, this was relatively easy to do as taxis back then were numerous going up and down the streets 24-7.

As soon as I saw one passing that seemed to be unoccupied, I stuck my arm out and let the driver know that we wanted to get a ride. Once we hopped in, Maria gave the taxi driver the address of the place that we were going. Everything seemed normal as the ride began, Maria and I sat in the back seat, quiet, having a casual conversation. One thing I need to note is that my family and Maria's family were quite overprotective of us, so we weren't used to being out and about by ourselves, especially not in Athens, which is a really big capital city.

We didn't know the distinction between the different districts and the streets, so just the two of us going alone was a pretty big deal. At some point I realized the taxi driver was listening to our conversation. He was laughing at the things that we were talking about and checking us out in the rear-view mirror. We wound down our conversation, assuming that he wanted to start a conversation, and he did. So, girls, where are you going? Are you going to a party or something? Are there going to be boys there? Maybe I can come too."

He said as he observed. "'Nah,' I responded. Our friend is having a birthday party at her house. It's going to be a bunch of young people, so it'll be pretty boring for anyone older.' Then Maria and I giggled at each other. We thought that it was funny that this man who appeared to be in his fifties was asking two seventeen-year-old girls if he could go to a party with them. He continued asking us questions, and he was being kind of pushy, but we tried to remain nice and polite to him.

Then we noticed that he was driving away from the main streets. The roads that we were now driving around were becoming less and less crowded. Then we noticed that he was approaching a big field behind an old building. Maria and I were immediately alarmed, so we thought that maybe I could pretend to be calling my dad letting him know that we were in a taxi and getting closer to our destination. The problem was that I had a prepaid phone plan back then, and I didn't have any credits on my phone, so I couldn't actually call someone. I knew this was going to be a challenge, but I had to be convincing.

After pretending to wait for my dad to pick up, I greeted, hey dad, yeah, still in the taxi, but I think we're getting close or don't worry. I'll let you know as soon as we get there. Love you. Bye." Shortly after I ended my call, the taxi driver stopped the car and turned off the engine. As Maria and I froze, my heart began beating so fast and so strong. Maria grabbed my hand, squeezing it hard. He then turned and looked at us with this creepy smile. Even thinking about it now still gives me chills. I cursed myself.

What do we do now? Then the tone shifted and things were starting to get more intense. He pulled out a little pocket knife and then insisted. We can have a lot of fun here. Just the three of us. I angrily hissed. Where did you bring us? Take us back to the main road.

Now, Maria then tried to open the door, but the safety locks were on. This guy had us locked inside the car. We started screaming loud, completely ignoring the fact that he was still pointing a knife at us. I screamed, open the door! The man was clearly enjoying this scene because he had that idiotic smile plastered on his face the entire time. We continued screaming so loud and urgently

jiggling the door handles in an attempt to open them. Our panicked behavior must have had this guy thinking twice about doing something crazy or sketchy because suddenly Maria was able to open the door on her side. Without a second thought, I jumped out from her side after she got out. The cab driver then cursed at us and called us all sorts of names while remaining inside his car. And then, without hesitation, we took off running. We didn't even look behind us until we were far enough to make sure that we were finally

safe. Our adrenaline was so high, but I was so glad to see that we had made it out of that situation. We reported him at the police station, but there was very little that they could do as we didn't memorize his plate or licensing information. Even if we did, I think that back then, the regulations for tracking down a taxi were a bit different than they are now. for tracking down a taxi, were a bit different than they are now. So, allow me to give you this advice. Before getting inside of a taxi,

please write down or take note of the license plate. If you can take a discrete photo of it and send it to someone, that's even better. To the Psycho Taxi Driver, let's not meet again. The story started when I was in high school. I'm nearly 40 years old now, but whenever I think about this person that I once knew, who will call Tommy, it still sends chills down my spine. When I was a senior in high school, my friends and I worked with a man who was in his late 20s to early 30s named Tommy. He seemed totally harmless, if not just a little too eager to hang out with the group

of high school kids. Over that year, we somehow started roping him into buying a alcohol for parties on the weekends every now and then. At first, it seemed like a great arrangement, until Tommy started exerting more control over the alcohol when it would be in his possession. What I mean by that is, he would tell us that we could come pick up the alcohol from him at his house, which was in a very remote location. He lived alone. When we were there, he would try to pressure us or guilt us into staying around and hanging

with him in his dimly lit living room. Sometimes he would pressure us as a group, and sometimes he would pick someone to individually pressure. At the time, I wrote it off as Tommy just being lonely, and that our friendly favor asking was being mistaken as us seeking a deeper friendship. So we stopped asking him for favors and tried to keep things cool and cordial with him moving forward. But Tommy's attention on us didn't really seem to wane. As I was still in high school, I was living at home with my family in our small

town. While our town was indeed very small, it was still unnerving when Tommy, one day, revealed that he knew where I lived. I had never told him where I lived, so I thought that it was odd, but I let it go. Around this time I started getting phone calls from blocked numbers on our house phone. The person, whoever it was, would hang up once anyone answered the call. To this day, I still don't know if it was Tommy on the other end of those calls. But I do know that after he let me know that he knew where I lived, is when I started hearing and seeing his car driving past my house unexpectedly at random hours of the day and night. He drove a loud sports car that was modified to make even more noise than it ordinarily

would. His vehicle was altered with racing-type things. Sometimes I'd be in my room and I would just hear the muffler, blaring down the street as if Tommy was checking if I was home. It's important to mention that I never told anyone about Tommy's drive-byes for a few reasons. One, I wasn't sure if I was confusing coincidences for creepy behavior. sure if I was confusing coincidences for creepy behavior. Up until this point, Tommy was well-versed in pushing the envelope just so much. I didn't have any hard proof of any stalking behavior with the exception of his texts and calls. His texts and calls were pushy and mildly

aggressive, but not all-out threatening. My second reason for not telling anybody what was going on is bigger. I'm currently an out-and-proud gay man, but back then I was still very much in the closet. I wasn't ready to be out to anyone. For a long while, I wondered if Tommy might also be in the closet and maybe he recognized that I was too. At that time, I worried that reporting Tommy might expose what I had come to suspect, which was that maybe he thought our interactions were more than what they were. Thankfully, I got really busy with my senior year stuff and time passed quickly.

I graduated and went to college in a nearby major city. I didn't hear from Tommy for several years and I felt relief that he had just lost interest and he moved on to somebody else. By this time I was out to my family and was of legal age to be on dating apps. You probably know where this is going. I started talking to a guy that I had matched with while in the city. The photo was obviously not Tommy, and the guy I was talking to never said anything that indicated he was Tommy. This guy and I talked for a few weeks before he finally revealed himself to me, and when he did, he did so without any shame that he had been catfishing me. Turns out, my earlier suspicions were correct, and when he did, he did so without any shame that he had been catfishing me. Turns

out my earlier suspicions were correct, and this was Tommy's way of trying to initiate something more with me. I immediately blocked him. I hoped that this would end it, and that I'd never hear from him again, but that wasn't the case. Even more years went by, and at this point, it had been ten years since I was in high school, making it a full decade since Tommy and I had even been in the same vicinity. One day he texted me from a new number. He couldn't text me from his old one because I had blocked it. He apologized for his previous behavior and said that he just wanted to talk. He asked if I would give him another chance. I immediately blocked that number two. As I said, I'm almost 40. I'm happily married and I live out of

state far away from where Tommy lives. For many years, I often worried that specifying where I lived or where I was online would result in Tommy showing up. I worried that maybe he'd snap and do something to me or anybody that I was dating. I'm grateful to have had better LGBT role models and friends come into my life and luckily I have not heard from Tommy in any way for a long time. To any underage listeners, think again before convincing someone to buy you alcohol. You don't know what's going on in their mind, especially someone who's open to doing that. And finally, Tommy, let's not meet again. When I was 17, I lived with my parents out in the country near a small town in Oklahoma. All my siblings had moved out with the exception of my older sister who wasn't home on this

particular night. To set the scene, I'll explain how the house is set up real quick. The house is in the shape of an L. My bedroom is at one end with an entry door right beside my room. My parents' room was at the other end of the L, with a side entry door near their room. My parents' bathroom connects to their bedroom, and from the outside of the house, if you look inside through a small octagon window, you can see the foot of their bed, and be able to tell if they are in bed or not. My boyfriend,

at the time, hung out at my house often. On that night, he came over and we watched some scary movies, but he left at around 11. About 30 minutes after he left, I was lying in bed watching TV. I kept hearing noises outside of my window. I called my boyfriend and I told him what was going on. He blew it off and told me to go to bed. He told me that we had just watched a bunch of scary movies and it was probably my mind playing tricks on me. So I stayed there in bed watching TV occasionally muting since I was hearing something.

It sounded like somebody was fidgeting at my window. I also heard what sounded like somebody trying to open the front door. Finally, I decided to check it out, fully expecting to see nothing. The door near my room had nine small windows in it, where I could have a clear view of the outside of my house. I walked outside of my room and I peered around the corner, only to see a tall man standing there trying to open the door. I screamed. He then told me, I better run.

So I did just that. I ran as fast as I could through the house and into my parents' room to wake them up. I let them know that there was a man trying to get in the front door. My dad jumped up and ran out the side door with a gun. Then around to the front of the house where the man was still attempting to get in the door. My dad pointed the gun at the man and somehow got between the man and our front door. My mom then joined my dad with her own gun while I called 911. While on the phone with the dispatcher, the man kept telling us that God would come for us and forgive us while he was now taking steps toward my parents.

Finally, after a brutal 14 minutes, the cops showed up and threw the man on the ground. While pulling stuff out of his pockets, they found our house keys. I had left them in my truck, but the man didn't realize they were the house keys. He also had a bag of weed, some pills, a knife, and condoms. After the cops got our statements, they walked around the exterior of our house. They found footprints from him, indicating that he had looked through the octagon window at my parents to be sure that they were in bed. The footsteps then led to my window, where there were signs of an attempted entry, but luckily it was locked.

There were also footprints leading down to our in-ground pool where the police assumed he had hidden until my boyfriend left. Hidden on the other side of the pool was a blanket and a lunchbox with more condoms, more pills, and a mirror. We had no clue for how long he had been watching us and lurking, but it was long enough for him to figure out where my bedroom was. Turns out, he only lived a quarter of a mile up the road. He was arrested, and after spending time in prison, he moved to Florida where he was released.

I'm thirty years old now with two daughters of my own. I live half a mile away from my parents. It's been thirteen years since this happened, but I'm still scared of him. I guess the relocation to Florida didn't work out for this man since I saw him three weeks ago. I was driving my daughters to school. He was walking down the side of the road about two miles away from our house. To the man who was arrested outside of my parents' home, please let's never meet again.

I am a mother to four biological kids and two adopted kids. I have been married to my husband for almost 18 years. We have two sons, 16 and 14, and four daughters, 13, 11, 10 and 9. We also happen to be the safe hangout space for a lot of my children's friends. We live in a two-story home that has an attached garage. From the garage, you can enter the house through the laundry area. My 16-year-old son, Kai, my 13-year-old daughter, Serena, and my 9-year-old daughter, Fiona, all have rooms on the main floor. My 14-year-old son, Paxton, 11-year-old

daughter, Emily, and my 10-year-old daughter, Bella, have bedrooms upstairs, where the main bedroom is also located. It was Labor Day weekend so we had our six children and three of their friends sleeping over. The kids were staying up late and were still awake when my husband and I went to bed at around midnight. Right as we settled into bed, we heard a lot of thumps and banging, and then my son Kai burst into our room. There's someone in the house, Kai said. He's asking for help. My husband and I quickly

jumped up from our bed and ran out of our bedroom to the upstairs landing. We saw a skinny man with wide, crazy eyes. He was saying, they're coming, they're outside. My husband yelled, you need to leave. A man was fidgeting with his pants and acting very panicky. My husband continued to yell at him to leave. He mentioned calling the police which sent the man into even more of a panic. I snuck back into the bedroom while my husband, our son Kai and our dog, were facing the man on our stairs.

I dialed 911 and gave the dispatcher our address and told her that there was a man inside our house who was refusing to leave. I told the dispatcher that he said that he needed help and thought somebody was after him. During the call, my husband ended up grabbing him by the back of his neck and pushing him down the stairs straight into the wall, where the stairs turned. Kai then opened the front door and my husband threw the man out onto our screened porch. My son Paxton and his friends were awoken by the chaos. Paxton opened his bedroom door,

as I walked out of my bedroom door while on the phone with 9-1-1. I told Paxton to stay in his room and lock the door. He turned and quickly handed me a baseball bat that he had kept in his room. My daughters and their friends were hiding in the kitchen, which is thankfully the furthest room from the front door. My daughter Emily took charge and made sure that everybody was safe under the kitchen table. After my husband and Kai got the man out of the house, he dove his head into the plexiglass window of the front door, busting the bottom seal. I handed the baseball bat to my husband, and he swung it at the man when he tried to

dive his head in through the window. The man was dazed and bloodied from all the slams to the face. He also had cuts from the plexiglass on his arms. After what felt like hours of fighting him off, we finally saw blue and red lights. Flash lights were now shining on him from out front. The police apprehended him and took him to jail. Turns out, the man had walked into our garage after the dog had come in, and Kai was about to lock the door. According to the police, he was on meth. He was only 19, and already had one previous charge of domestic violence. After being arrested and released, I saw him walking up and down our street, so apparently he lives in the area.

In reality, my husband wasn't even supposed to be home on Labor Day weekend when this happened, but I couldn't be more grateful that he was. Let me begin by providing a bit of context. I grew up in a really tiny desert town in California. The kind that's hard to find on a map. It's an extremely small and under the radar town. It's the kind of place that draws in all sorts of undesirables, such as drug addicts and registered offenders. Of course, I grew up completely aware of this and found it completely normal. However, there were some run-ins that I had as a child that really opened my eyes to the danger that came with living in such a place. This is one of them.

I used to go around town offering to rake yards for a cheap price. Granted, business was hard to come by, living in the desert, where almost everyone has dirt yards. But I tried anyway, so that I could afford to keep peating myself, I was about 11 years old when I went out raking yards for the first time. Normally, I would go out alone with my dad's rusty old rake-in-toe, but I was incredibly lucky that on this one occasion, my friend's little brother who will call Zach decided to tag along to keep me company.

I don't recall what we talked about, or if there was any particular reason that he wanted to come, but regardless, I have no doubt that something bad would have happened had he not been there. That day, we deviated from my usual routine and went down a street that I had never been down before. The street was behind an abandoned community center. The duplexes on this street were lined opposite the community center, and they were spaced pretty far apart. At the end of the street, there was a duplex that had a cedar tree out front, so I decided

that it would be the perfect place to try and rake. Keep in mind that at the time I was severely underweight, I was much smaller than I should have been at that age. As Zach and I approached this duplex, no warning bells were going off just yet. The yard was completely barren, save for the built up pines from the tree. I noticed that the windows were blocked off, but that wasn't particularly odd. Zach parked his bike and waited out by the curb as I went to the door, just as he had done at the previous houses we stopped at. This was when things started to get strange. As I was standing on the porch, I caught a faint unpleasant smell.

I knocked on the door and took a big step back. I heard dogs barking somewhere out back, and after a moment, the front door swung open to reveal a very large, middle-aged man. The man was shirtless, greasy, balding. I remember immediately thinking that he looked kind of creepy, and the smell, oh God. With the door opened, I had a front row seat to one of the most ungodly sense I've ever had the pleasure of smelling. It was this heavy, musty stench, a melting pot of mold, cigarette smoke, a melting pot of mold, cigarette smoke, and urine. I'll never forget that smell. The man's house was pitch black behind him, and I immediately felt uneasy. I made the mistake of ignoring my gut. In retrospect, I should have just left right then without a word, but I was a polite kid, and frankly, I'd always been terrified of pissing people off.

So I halfheartedly smiled and rattled my unusual greeting of, Hello, sir. Would you like your yard, Rake? He was silent for a second. Then he spoke. His voice was grating and low. That Rake, it looks just like the one I have. I chuckled a bit, trying to seem nonchalant. I had no idea what I was supposed to say to that. I also couldn't help but notice that the man was watching Zach. Every now and then, his eyes would dart over to him.

What really scared me about this man was that he was completely stone-faced and unreadable. I looked at him, and I couldn't see a thing. I think that was the first time I had ever been face-to-face with someone so vacant. In the few seconds that I had interacted with this man, my intuition was telling me that there was something wrong about him. He didn't even bother to acknowledge what I had asked him. He just continued on about the rake. Where did you get it from?" he asked. I simply told him that it was my dad's, and he just repeated that the rake looked like his. I was confused and honestly a bit irritated, since it sure sounded like he was implying

that I stole his rake. Suddenly he stepped back into his house and motioned for me to come inside. Come inside, let's check out my rake. We'll see if it's still there. He snickered. There was no way I was dumb enough to set foot inside that guy's disgusting house. Looking back, I think he was trying to leverage some kind of authority to get me in there. He wanted to intentionally make me feel like I was in trouble, or something like that, so that I would listen to him. Thankfully, that approach doesn't land when you have the commanding presence of

a basement dwelling hermit. I told him, no thanks, and said that I didn't take his rake. I explained that I was just trying to earn a little money, but he insisted that I go inside and look for his rake. I had a feeling he just wanted to get me out of Zack's sight, but I wasn't going to do that. When I refused again and took another step back, he stepped forward, keeping his eyes on Zach the entire time. Suddenly, he did a complete 180 and stopped trying to get me to come inside. He said something about not wanting his yard raked and muttered unintelligiblely before abruptly closing the door.

I had no complaints about leaving, and I went back to Zach where he was waiting. He commented on how I was talking to the man for quite a while, so I told him what happened. I downplayed it a lot because I didn't want him to tell anyone or get my dad involved. After that, I wasn't really in the mood to talk to anymore strangers. Zach and I went our separate ways and I went home. I didn't think much about that incident for a long time after it happened, but unfortunately, this isn't where the story ends. Fast forward to 2019. I was 17 years old, fresh out of high school, and the California earthquakes had taken out the foundation in my home.

My family and I were homeless, and none of the adults in my life were doing a single thing about it, so I took it upon myself to find a place for us to rent. I heard through word of mouth about a two-bedroom duplex being rented for about $450 a month and I immediately jumped on it. I wish I never did because, in a cruel, twist of fate, I had moved my family into the same place that the creep I encountered as a child had previously lived. At the same time, I felt like I had no choice, we couldn't stay homeless, and I had pets that could not be held in the shelter for much longer.

Let me tell you, that place was a nightmare. I had no idea how bad it really was. Although unoccupied, that smell hits you as soon as you walk in. The scent I vividly remember from the man was baked into every inch of the space. The carpet in the living room must have been decades old, and it was matted down with god knows what. As you walked across the carpet, you could physically feel it's stick to your shoes. There was still a clothesline strung up from wall to wall with nothing but a rock hard rag pinned to it. The entire place was infested with cockroaches,

which is a detail that the landlord conveniently omitted. The list of things wrong with this place just went on and on, but the worst part was, and what I decided would be my room, there was a large, darkened splatter in the middle of the splintered wooden floor. I know what old blood looks like. That's definitely what this was. Someone was hurt very bad in that room, and I could only speculate on the details. The cherry on top was in the room in the very back. The inside of the door was covered in scribbles, written in what looked like crayons.

A lot of it just looked like gibberish, but I could clearly make out one segment of it. It read, God please help me. Please help. The reasonable part of me thinks that some kid broke into the duplex at some point and wrote all of that just to scare people. But it also seems possible that this man scribbled all of that on the door himself. I honestly think something sinister was going on here.

I can't help but wonder what would have happened to me if I had gone in that day. I never felt safe or comfortable in that place. The entire two years that we lived there. I often had nightmares about being stuck in that dump. I'd be surprised if that creepy man was still alive, but if he is, creepy rake guy. I truly hope we never meet again. Thanks for listening, and if you're a patron, don't forget to stick around after the music for your extended ad-free version of this week's episode. If you'd like to get access to that

and a whole heap of bonus content, 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 Boundaries Matter by Maya, Squatter Neighbor, who had a machete by Alex, Psychotaxi driver by Anna K, Co-worker turned stalker turned catfish by Craig, A small town Oklahoma story by Callie helped me by Donna, and finally, the rake man by Jeremy. 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. Make sure you send your stories in to let's not meet stories at gmail.com if you'd like to hear them on the show. Finally, don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts. Odd Trails, my true paranormal podcast. Welcome to Paradise at 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. This happened a couple of years ago when I met someone off of Tinder.