Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 14x11: Plans For Murder

Episode Date: March 10, 2025

Stories in this episode:  His Plans Escalated to Murder | Anonymous (0:40) Followed on the Sketchy Side of Town | No_Career_2880 (12:19)  Don't Go to the Gas Station at Night | Important-Self-6311 (20:05)  A Stranger Entered My Apt When I Was 10 | Spoon (23:28)  The Fireman's Widow | zeburom (30:26)  The Man in the Tent | trampolini69 (34:26)  The Vacuum Salesmen | oopsiedoopsie00 (41:29)  Extended Patreon Content:  "Dear Aidan..." | Aidan I Almost Witnessed My Mother's Murder | Danieli Creepy Old Stalker | Natasha B. My College Tryst | Tim Chambers  Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. Join the Discord: https://discord.gg/84WXQud4gE Follow: - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - TikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@crypticcounty Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails, Cryptic Encounters, and the Old Time Radiocast at CrypticCountyPodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts!    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! FÜM has already helped over 400,000 people take steps toward better habits, and now it’s your turn! To kick off the New Year, use our code MEET to get a free gift with your Journey Pack tryfum.com. Start your hair growth journey with Nutrafol. For a limited time, Nutrafol is offering our listeners $10 off your first month’s subscription and free shipping when you go to Nutrafol.com and enter the promo code MEET. 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].   

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This podcast contains adult language and content. Listener discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. At the age of 12, I started babysitting for family friends who had three daughters aged from 4 to 7. They lived in a cul-de-sac, where nearly every home housed a couple with children in elementary school. The neighborhood was extremely close-knit and reminiscent of 1950s American block party communities. They had a communal policy on using one another's toys. Any kid could use a play structure in someone else's yard at any time without asking. Shortly after I started working in the neighborhood,

the rule was revised to anytime except for when a family is using a babysitter to watch their kids. This was to ensure that they wouldn't get overwhelmed supervising a swarm of kids they weren't being paid to watch. It was more or less known among everyone that when parents were going out and leaving someone else in charge of their children, this was how things were to go. Even with the rule revision in place, I was still welcome to take the girls to play in any other yard as they wanted.

The other parents in the neighborhood even permitted me to let the kids play in their yards or sandboxes independently if I needed a short break, but, being an avid Babysitter's Club reader, I never left the girls outside unsupervised. Ever. I would take them outside and wait until someone wanted water or a bathroom break and then corral everyone inside together. Similarly, when the girls wanted to play in the tree house at an older couple's house a few doors up the street,

I would climb up and crouch inside that little house with them. I did this despite my slight fear of heights and despite feeling claustrophobic. It was always important for me to follow my own rules and never leave them unattended. I can't recall whether my everyone-inside-everyone-outside-together rule preceded the first odd interaction that I had with the immediate next-door neighbor or not. But when the police questioned the girls that I babysat years later, they said that nothing bad ever happened when I watched them,

largely due to that weird and sometimes annoying rule that I had in place. One day while playing basketball with the girls in the driveway, the next-door neighbor came outside in a baseball cap and sunglasses and sat down on his second-story deck to read a paperback. I later noticed that he had turned his chair around 180 degrees to face us and the basketball hoop, but I couldn't tell if he was looking at us. He had no reaction to me staring at him, he just continued flipping the pages in the book like someone would do when reading.

This behavior repeated every time that we played basketball, for every one of the five years that I watched the girls. Eventually, once I noticed him in the chair, I would suggest a game where we could go play inside and elsewhere in the front yard I would suggest a game where we could go play inside, and elsewhere in the front yard, to stay out of his view. This strange neighbor was familiar to me as he went to my church. I have never seen someone kneel in a pew, head bowed, and hands folded, with the same level of intensity before or since.

One time, when my family was seated behind him, the priest came over to ask me to lead the children's mass, as the usual person was out sick. This guy turned around and glared at me like I had personally set out to disrupt his prayer time. When I worked in the church nursery during various masses, I would often make eye contact with him as he waited in line outside the nursery door to use the bathroom.

From what I gleaned from our family friends and other people in the neighborhood, the odd basketball observer was a nice guy who gave up his apartment and job in the city to move in with and care for his sick elderly mother. Since everyone thought that he was great, and since he went to church, I figured I was in the wrong for finding him creepy. This was before the big Catholic Church sex scandal broke out. Even at the age of 12, I was used to men in their 40s or 50s asking me to go somewhere with them, or driving slowly by me to make lewd comments as I walked, biked, or jogged. I figured I was projecting these experiences onto this awkward, quiet guy, who wasn't doing anything wrong.

For instance, I was certain that if the guy next door was a creep, he wouldn't miss the opportunity to watch, book in hand, while the kids and I went swimming each summer after their parents uncovered their above-ground pool. But he never set foot out on his deck when the kids and I donned swimsuits to play in the pool or the backyard. That only convinced me that I was being conceited and mean. However, when I was about 15 or 16, I caught him looking inside the window as I cleaned up after a movie night.

The girls and I put on a film after bath time, and instead of watching in total darkness, theater style, we kept some lights on so that I could braid the girl's hair. The big screen TV we used for movies was located in a room that was an addition to the house with floor-to-ceiling windows. Though my parents were OCD about shutting blinds and curtains when the sun went down to prevent people from seeing in, our family friends had no window treatments on these big, modern windows. When I turned off the last light in the room, a floor lamp right next to a window facing

the neighbor's house, I was able to see into the darkness outside, where the weird man sat on his deck in a chair in line with the window, looking right through it. I looked over my shoulder and realized his line of sight was where the girls and I sat on the floor during the movie. As I looked back at the girls, I caught a glimpse of him hustling back inside his house. I would have doubted seeing him at all if he hadn't left the chair in an unusual spot. After watching him turn his chair around and read during many basketball matches, I knew

where the chair typically sat, so that night, as his chair faced the window of the room from the house expansion, I knew it wasn't in its usual position on the deck. After that incident, I started suggesting that we play board games in another room and insisted on watching movies theater style in the dark to ensure that he couldn't watch us. Once the girls were asleep, I avoided that room entirely because I was paranoid about being watched. If I wasn't in the kitchen, away from all the windows, doing homework or reading, I'd walk around the original first floor of the house, where all the windows had curtains. When the girls' parents noticed the change in routine, they reminded me that we could

watch TV or movies in the additional room. I didn't mention anything to them because I was too worried that my concerns were silly. When I was 17, my family heard a story on an evening cable news show about a man in our town who was caught by the police during a sting operation. The police planted a woman who was pretending to prostitute her two-year-old. When the man's house was raided, the police found a ton of child pornography on the computer. Our family friends called my family a couple of weeks later, as the man on the news story was the awkward, quiet man who lived next door.

My family then learned about the situation in greater detail. As our family friends described it, the police found the man's blog, where he wrote about his obsession with one of the girls who lived next door to him. It detailed his fantasies involving her and his plans to act on them. He wrote about things like lying in the elderly couple's treehouse for hours, hoping to corner her if she actually climbed up there to play alone. Many of his entries focused on taking advantage of or kidnapping the girl while the babysitter was in charge.

In his head, babysitters were like the ones that you'd see in old movies. He assumed I'd be talking to friends on the phone and making out with a boy who I invited over instead of caring for the kids. As it became clear that I was not going to do either one of those things, his plans evolved into killing the babysitter, taking the girl, and then getting out of dodge. After taking the girls to ensure that they were not victims, the police suggested I might have known something since their parents picked up on my apprehension towards him. So I gave the police all of the pieces.

I told them about the frequent run-ins that I had with him at the church, when I had children in my care, or the weird things he did when he knew I was watching the kids next door. Everything I shared fit together cohesively. I was relieved to find out that what I was feeling was not mean-spirited or anything I imagined. I recognize I was not the person most at risk in this situation, and yet, to the creeper next door, and would-be murderer, it's always the little habits that give people away? Well, maybe it's time to ditch one of your own.

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Shopify.com slash audio boom. For context, I'm still in school and work for a family member on certain weekends at a stadium at a local college selling concessions. It's a gig that happens about once or twice a month, and the stadium is off towards the edge of town. It was a Friday night. I had just gotten out of school, and I had to go straight to work. I got to work and only worked a half shift, four hours, when my boss, who was also my

aunt, told me that we needed more spoons for an event the next day. We sell ice cream at concessions, and the event was expected to have over 5,000 people. I told her that I'd go grab some spoons on my way home. We specifically needed heavy-duty spoons, and the only store that I could think of that had these spoons was on the other side of town. I wanted to meet up with some of my friends to hang out and mess around, so I decided to take the faster way to the store, which was sketchy, as it was around the outskirts of town.

The weather in my state changes frequently, so it snowed the previous night, but I figured that the roads would be decent enough to drive, even if they weren't plowed. So I headed to the store, and the first five minutes of the drive went by just fine, and nothing was wrong. I hadn't seen a single car out there on the outskirts, and it was approaching 9 p.m. Suddenly, I caught something in the corner of my eye, and it looked like a man. I'd say he was roughly 5'8".

He was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and a backwards hat. He was in the ditch, walking in the snow, even though it was only 10 degrees out. My first thought was to pull over, but I was on the phone with my mom at the time, and she warned me not to, because sketchy things had happened in our town before. My first thought was to pull over, but I was on the phone with my mom at the time, and she warned me not to because sketchy things had happened in our town before. For example, there was the time that a college girl went missing and was later found dead,

rolled up in a rug in 2014. Even after my mom's warning, I still considered stopping, but for some reason I had a strong gut reaction that was telling me not to. I didn't feel directly threatened though, so I wasn't really worried about anything. I looked at it as I was just this young guy driving a pickup truck, and I felt like I was the last type of person this guy would want to go after or harm. So I passed the guy going about 40 miles per hour. Then, not even a tenth of a mile past him, I immediately saw a car I hadn't noticed

before. This car then started up, pulled out of the field entrance just off of the road and started to follow me. I still wasn't that worried, since I've watched my fair share of true crime documentaries and I've read tons of true horror stories online, so I didn't feel like anything was really happening. I started to approach the town again and had to make some turns to get where I was going.

When I made a left turn, the car from the field also turned left, then right, and the car turned right as well. I went around a roundabout and intentionally missed my turn to loop around twice since no one else was driving ahead of me. And the car followed. This was when I started to worry a bit, but I thought that maybe whoever was driving the car also just needed to go to the store.

After I pulled up to the next stop sign, I made my next turn without using my signal, and the car continued to follow. Honestly, after this, I should have just drove straight to the police station, but I didn't think much of it. Plus, I was only two miles from the store, where I knew plenty of people would be. I took a few more turns, and the car continued to follow me. I even completely blew through a stop sign at a non-busy intersection, and the car behind me did a quick stop and go so that they could keep up.

After I turned into the store, the car did the same. This particular store also had a gas station, so I pulled up to a pump first and acted like I was going to get gas. The car stayed off to the side in between the station and the store. I just sat there. I waited about ten minutes, and the car didn't move. At this point I was getting worried. I was a young kid alone at night near the bad side of town. So I called my friends, whom I was supposed to meet up with, and recited the license plate

of the vehicle to them. Then I left the store and crossed the street. The car that had been following me came right after me. It was then that I started to freak out. I didn't know if I should call the cops or not, so I circled back to the store and parked as close as I possibly could to it. The car found a space three rows behind me and parked as well. It was getting late and the store was closing soon, so there were only a couple of other

cars in the lot. I impulsively started my truck up again and parked in the opposite side of the lot. Then I got out and bolted into the store. I'm not super overweight, but I'm not skinny either. I'm about 6'1 and 200 pounds, so I found it puzzling that he would want anything to do with me. I found the spoons that we needed and took my time in the store. When I went to call my friends as I walked back outside, my phone died.

I looked through the store's sliding glass doors and suddenly there was a white van next to my driver's side. It didn't look like there was anyone in it, but the back windows were obscured and I could hear that it was running. This was a huge red flag for me, so I ran to the customer service desk and explained everything. I'm not sure if they were annoyed since this was so close to closing time, or maybe they thought that I was just some kind of kid messing around, but they didn't take me seriously. So I peeked back outside and I didn't see the

original car that was following me, but there was no way in hell I was going back outside with that van running right next to my truck. After waiting for what seemed like hours, the van pulled forward, and the original car appeared from the side of the building. This store had an in-store Starbucks, and through the Starbucks window, I saw the drivers of both vehicles as they had a quick exchange before driving away. I waited for another 10 minutes before dashing back outside. Then I sped over to my friend's house and I parked in his garage when I got there. That's when my buddy asked me why there was a big orange mark on my tire. When I was in the store, the car that was following me had marked my tire.

After inspecting the rest of the truck, we found a small pipe that had been dropped into the bed of the truck. It was about two inches wide and eighteen inches long, wrapped in duct tape, and surrounded by snow. This was not mine. I tried to laugh it off, but I couldn't help but think of what would have happened if I had walked outside that store when those two cars were around.

So to the creepy men who followed me all night and lingered around my truck long enough to mark it, let's not meet. The Last of Us The Last of Us The Last of Us The Last of Us The Last of Us

The Last of Us The Last of Us One night, I naively decided to go get gas at 11pm since I didn't have enough time to do so before work. So as I pulled up to the gas station, I noticed there were a couple of cars parked at some of the pumps, which made me feel relieved and safer about going there. I only had cash on me, so I had to go inside to pay for the gas prior to pumping. After I paid, most of the other cars there were leaving, except for this one truck that

was parked just two pumps away from me. I proceeded to put the gas pump in my car, and then I got back into my car so that I could sit and wait for the gas tank to be filled. I was just sitting there, messing around on my phone, when I suddenly saw this guy walking around the front of my car very suspiciously. I sort of half glanced up at him to see what he was doing and inadvertently made eye contact with him. Once he realized he had my attention, he asked me if I had any extra change so that he could get some gas. I shook my head and quickly and politely said, No, sorry. He then replied,

Hey, that's okay. It looks like your gas is done dispensing. Do you want me to remove the pump for you? Oh, no, I'm good, thanks," I replied. After hesitating, he then walked toward the back of my car. I glanced back at him as subtly as I could since I did not want him to know how terrified I was. But I lost sight of him.

All the while, I was trying to think of how I could get out of my car, knowing that he was still somewhere nearby. I didn't see him anywhere, and everyone else had left the gas station by this point, so I figured I'd just wait until someone else pulled in. Five minutes went by, and there was no one. I didn't see the guy anywhere either. At this point, my fight-or-flight response was kicking in. I didn't know what to do next, especially since it was really cold outside and I hadn't

turned my car back on since the pump was still in my car. Then, finally, I saw the man walking back towards his truck. But he didn't get into it. He was just a few pumps away, and he had his back to me. I went for it. I hopped out of the car and I removed the pump. He quickly spun around and started walking towards me. He said, you're really beautiful.

As he was approaching me, I nodded and fumbled with the gas cap. I noticed this crazy look in his eyes. He continued, I don't look like a serial killer, do I? I didn't say anything in response. I just bolted back to my car. But I remember thinking, yeah, you actually do. I then drove out of there as fast as I could. Ladies, please avoid going to gas stations at night

if you need to at least carry some sort of protection, because I sure as hell will from now on. I learned my lesson. Before I begin this story, you need to understand that my dad was never a good father. He lacked all of the qualities a normal, mentally healthy father would have, and we lived in very low-income housing. When he was in high school, he was told that he would be unable to have children due to a car accident that left him mangled. Unfortunately, the medical professionals were incorrect about this, and he was still, in

fact, able to have kids. So in his 20s and 30s, he managed to father a total of 15 children. I was number 13. Even though I've lived with week-on, week-off custody with my father, I feel like I never really got to know him, nor was I ever introduced to more than one of my father's other kids that had come before me. My older half-sister was the only other sibling I'd ever met, and I didn't even know who her mom was.

A lot of this particular memory has been repressed into the deep corners of my mind, so some of the details might seem foggy. I'm 21 now, and I only recently fully acknowledged that this happened. I even further confirmed it with my mom. When I was 10, somebody entered our apartment. I can't remember his name, but he claimed to be one of my father's long-lost children. He seemed to be in his late teens to early twenties and was rough around the edges. He had mid-length hair, and he was fairly tall and skinny. We were in Oregon, and he asked if he could stay with us for a while as he attempted to

get back on his feet after moving up from California. He didn't seem to have many belongings with him. Honestly, I vaguely remember that he had nothing except for an old laptop. My dad was weird about him, but he confirmed that this guy was one of my brothers. Then my dad explained that this brother would be taking my room for a bit while I slept in the living room. Once this happened, the weird thing was that my dad never let me go back into my old room. It made me think that my new brother was kind of odd, but on the other hand, I also thought that he was a super cool guy myself. We played Minecraft together on LAN, he was a programmer trying to make some Skyrim-type

game, and he showed me everything he had made so far. He stayed with us for around a month until he was chased out of our apartment. On the day that he was chased out, he and I were having a Minecraft redstone competition to see who could make the cooler redstone build. We were going to work on our builds that day, and then present what we had the next day, and decide whose build was better. Unfortunately, it never came to be.

That night, sometime past midnight, I heard my father screaming and banging on the wall. After about 30 seconds of banging, while I was on the couch in the living room, I witnessed my father fully enraged, chasing my quote unquote brother out of the apartment. After my brother ran out, my dad ran after him, holding a knife. My dad screamed and yelled as he chased him outside. But after my brother ran away, my dad came back to make sure I was okay.

I didn't get to sleep much until later that night. But eventually I fell asleep with my dad sitting in the living room until dawn guarding the apartment. It wasn't until months later that I found out exactly what happened that night. This is mostly my father's account. Turns out this guy was someone who was pretending to be my brother. That night, after my father was asleep, he went into my father's room

and stabbed him in the chest while he was sleeping. My father woke up and quickly sprang into action. My dad tackled the man and then wrestled him for a bit before beating him senseless. After much struggle, the guy managed to free himself and ran out of the apartment. That's about all I can remember. I recently asked my mom about it and she confirmed the whole story.

She even saw my dad stab wound herself. She said he never went to the hospital but luckily she was able to patch him up as she was a nurse. Also, I'm not sure how or when the police became involved, but they did stop by the apartment at some point to have a look around. That's how we found out the impersonator was wanted in California, Oregon, and Washington for a multitude of crimes. I don't remember his name, so I never found out if he was ever really caught. This year, there's nothing holding you back from loving your hair again.

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that boosts conversions up to 50%, meaning way less carts going abandoned, and way more sales going... So if you're into growing your business, your commerce platform better be ready to sell wherever your customers are scrolling or strolling on the web, in your store, in their feed, and everywhere in between. Businesses that sell more, sell on Shopify.

Upgrade your business and get the same checkout Skims uses. Sign up for your $1 per month trial period at Shopify.com slash Audioboom. All lowercase. Go to Shopify.com slash Audioboom to upgrade your selling today. Shopify.com slash Audioboom. I'm 32 now, but I was 18 years old and working as an assistant at a fire department when this happened. One night, this woman called saying that she was the widow of a deceased fireman. She said she was looking for someone to fix her grandson's computer, and

he lived with her. By then, I had already completed some IT courses and was used to receiving calls from family and friends to do tasks like that. So I took her number and told her that I would give her a call back. I asked a sergeant about her and mentioned the name of her deceased husband. He confirmed that she was who she said she was and that they were familiar with getting calls from her for help like this. So I called her back and let her know that I could help, and I gave her a quote for what I would charge for the job.

She agreed and we scheduled a day to get it done. On the scheduled day, I gathered the necessary equipment and went to the address that she gave me. It was in the city center, which in my city means it's the area of the old residential buildings that have nearly all become commercial offices. When I arrived, I noticed that it was a very old building, and I found out that the bell wasn't working

as a man who was exiting the building told me this. I waited around for about 40 minutes for her to answer the phone and let me in. When she finally did, she let me know that she lived on the fifth floor, but there was no elevator. So I took the stairs, and when I finally reached her floor,

she quickly opened the door and let me inside. As soon as I looked around, I couldn't have been more disgusted. Her apartment was filthy, and the smell was unbearable. There were cockroaches everywhere and I had to hold myself back from gagging. She guided me to the computer and as we passed the bathroom door,

I noticed the bathtub looked like it had never even been cleaned. Once I started working on the computer, she kept talking about how lonely she was and how handsome I was. She offered me food and drinks several times, which I was quick to decline. Then her grandson came into the room. He looked to be about seven or eight years old, but he spoke like a baby. He kept telling me how nice I was and that I was going to fix the computer.

The boy then asked her for a cup of milk, so she went to get it. While she was gone, the boy just stared at me. I tried engaging with him a few times, but he never responded. I felt like I was in some kind of horror movie, and I was going to be the victim of a murder at any moment. I'm not sure why, but I just didn't feel safe there. When she came back with the milk for the boy, I noticed that she was holding a knife in her other hand.

She said that she was preparing lunch, and went back to the kitchen. At that point I was sure something was going to happen, so I quickly finished that job and called her into the room. She came in, still holding the knife, and I told her that I was done and ready to leave. She insisted that her grandson test it out first, and I agreed since she was still clutching the knife. The boy then tested the computer and confirmed that it was working just fine. At that moment, she turned to me and said that she didn't have money to pay me. I just told her it didn't matter. She finally let me leave and I essentially ran out of the building.

I'm a 23-year-old female. I was recently on vacation with my family in Africa. We stayed at a campsite in the Sahara Desert for two nights. The first night, my sister and I were talking and hanging out with the guys who worked there. They ranged in age from 20 to about 35. Initially, they seemed like they were harmless and very friendly. But as we stayed around the campfire that night, I noticed that one of the guys started paying extra attention to me.

I felt a little uncomfortable but figured it was just a misunderstanding or something. Out in the desert, you can see the stars very well. Even the Milky Way is visible on very clear nights. But you have to wait for the moon to go down around 2 a.m. to see it. The guys were saying it was customary for them to go around to the tents and knock to see who was awake and interested in going outside to look at the stars. These were luxury tents, furnished with beds, lights, a toilet, and a shower. There was a functioning lock on all of the doors, so this wasn't exactly normal camping.

My sister and I were sharing a tent and my parents were in a separate one across the walkway. On the first night, at around midnight, I told my sister that I was too tired to go outside since I was falling asleep, so she went to look at the stars without me. I didn't lock the door because I didn't want her to be locked out if I fell asleep. About one hour later, as I was sleeping on my side, I suddenly woke up to a head peeking into our tent from the door. I thought that it was my sister, so I groggily asked,

What are you doing? I did this because I thought it was weird that she was just standing there. As I gained more consciousness, I realized it was one of the guys from the campfire. He was peeking into my room while I was sleeping. I felt totally violated, especially since we were on their territory in the middle of the desert. I'm not kidding, we had to take a very lengthy truck ride in the dunes to get there. I was in fight or flight at that moment. I was having a panic attack, so I approached him at the door and told him I was tired.

But he had a blanket and kept trying to get me to go out to the dunes with him. A classic move. I kept saying no and explaining that I didn't feel good and I was tired, which was true. I stayed calm at that moment, even though I was disoriented. I remember thinking that I didn't know where my sister or the rest of my family were. All I knew was that the man standing in front of me was just watching me sleep, and he was trying to get me to go out in the desert with him.

I don't know how long I was there. It could have been literally a second, or it could have been two minutes. Either way, I was horrified. I told him no again and said that I'd go look at the stars the next night. He told me he wasn't going to be there the next night, and that's why he was so insistent that I go out with him that night, but I wouldn't budge. Once he realized I wasn't going outside, he asked me if he could have my number, but I told him no, and I said I had a boyfriend. I don't, but it seemed to be the only way this man would respect my disinterest.

After I said that, he asked for my first name, so I gave it to him since I assumed it wouldn't do any harm. Then I said goodnight and locked the door. I went to the bathroom to decompress and while I was in there, I heard him come back to the tent. He started calling out my name from outside of the tent, but I just stayed quiet and didn't say anything. When I finished up in the bathroom, he seemed to be gone, so I went back to lie down in

bed. I tried to calm down from what had just happened since my heart was racing, and then I heard him come back again, calling out my name. I stayed there in bed as still as I could and didn't say anything. I tried texting my dad, but he wasn't answering, and I didn't feel comfortable leaving the tent. Finally, my sister came back and my dad was with her so I told them what happened. They were confused and thought that it was weird, but that was it.

The next morning, I brought it up during breakfast. My sister and dad told me I was being dramatic and that I should stop talking about it since it wasn't that big of a deal. My mom was the only one who also thought that it wasn't okay at all. That night, on our second night, my sister and I were both under the stars talking to the guys and relaxing. Keep in mind, it was very dark and we couldn't see each other's faces. So, I was talking to one of the guys having a normal conversation and all was well. After a while, he asked me if I remembered him. I told him, I can't see you. So, he had me shine

the light on him. When I did, I saw that it was the same person who was watching me sleep in my tent the night before. I wasn't expecting it to be him since he had told me that he wasn't going to be there that night. That led me to believe that he picked up a shift just to see me. As we looked at the stars that night, he was fine and respected my boundaries so I never said anything to the guys who ran the camp.

I was planning to do so, if he did anything that made me uncomfortable like he did that first night. Thankfully, he didn't. The next morning we left, and a few days later, I began receiving message requests on Instagram. It was him. This guy found me. I guess he found my profile after I tagged the desert as a location. He must have browsed the location tag until he found my post because I know that he didn't

find me by my name since it is not unique whatsoever. I was thoroughly creeped out when he messaged me but figured he would be harmless enough to chat with. But then he said, You know, I'm so happy to have found your account. I've been looking for you ever since I saw you. I didn't answer, but he messaged again a few days later. I didn't answer that one either. He seemed to be a harmless guy, but his tenacity was telling me that I shouldn't be so sure about that. I've been thinking about this story a lot. I had a nightmare about it recently, and after telling my boyfriend about it for the first

time, he said that writing it out could possibly help me. This was a fair suggestion, as I often write to cope with things. This story took place ten years ago when I was fourteen. I grew up in an old farmhouse far out on a rural road. Cornfield surrounded my family's home and our closest neighbor was easily two to three miles away. The closest town was about a fifteen minute drive away, so we lived pretty remotely. One thing that was really nice about living so far out

was that we didn't get a lot of strangers knocking on our door. We hardly had to worry about solicitors coming to try and sell us Tupperware or talk religion with us, but we did have a few. One night, it was just me and my mother at home by ourselves. We were making baked goods for a fundraiser for my little brother's Boy Scout troop. My dad and brother were out helping my uncle with some cows, if I remember correctly. My mom and I were bustling around the kitchen, baking, talking, and laughing. My mom and I have always been close, and we were having a blast. But then we heard a knock at the door.

It was just an average knock, not too loud, not too quiet. I heard my mom say, hmm, allowed to herself as she took off her dish gloves to open the door. I stayed in the kitchen at the island, rolling out some dough for a couple of pies while watching my mother approach the door. I had a slight twinge of anxiety in my stomach, but I chalked it up to being just one of my normal flurries. As my mom walked towards the door, the person on the other side decided to give it another

tap. This time it was a distinct rhythm. So my mom stopped. She then turned and started walking back to the kitchen with a look on her face. Then she went to our kitchen window that faced out towards the porch. She went to the side where there was a clear view of the porch and then pulled the curtain back just enough to have a peek without being noticed by whoever was there.

The look on her face deepened, and she went to the other side of the window to look out at the driveway. I had stopped what I was doing altogether at this point. I decided that the pie crusts probably weren't important at this moment, as the feeling in my stomach was now a full-blown flurry. My mom's eyes widened as she looked out. She then closed the curtain and looked at the floor.

I could tell by the look on her face that she was angry, but also scared. She walked over to me and grabbed my wrist. She then guided me to the closet and quietly asked me if I had my cell phone. I let her know that I did, as she pulled my dad's prized Louisville slugger out of the closet. Meanwhile, the person at the door began banging so hard that I gasped. My mom sharply looked at me and whispered to keep quiet. She then took me by the arm and walked me towards their room while locking all of the

doors and windows along the way. At one point she stopped at a window in our living room and peeked outside. She let out a frustrated noise and closed it quickly before continuing to the bedroom. When we got to the bedroom she pulled me in and locked the door. She took my phone and began dialing as she handed me the baseball bat. Then she sat me down on the floor on the side of their room where I would be hidden from the door and opened the closet to get the gun case. I was terrified and I couldn't seem to hear what she was saying as she spoke quietly into

the phone. I was so frozen that I knew I wouldn't be able to focus on what she was saying anyway. She then pulled out my dad's shotgun and loaded it quickly. After she had hung up the phone, she pulled me up to my feet and walked me back out of the bedroom. We crept back over to the other side of the house where the bathroom was. My mom gave me my phone back and ushered me inside. She then set the gun down, put her hands on my shoulders, and looked at me as she said,

Sis, I need you to listen to me. There are some men outside, and they're walking around the sides of the house. I could feel myself shaking as I looked at her with wide eyes. Why? I replied. What do they want? I don't know, she responded. But you need to stay in here.

Lock the door and don't come out until I tell you. Do you understand? I nodded and she gave my shoulders a reassuring squeeze. I'm going to barricade the door from the other side, she continued. I will not move that barricade until I let you know that it's me. Basically, she was letting me know that I should crawl out of the bathroom window and run if I heard the barricade outside being moved otherwise. After my mom exited the bathroom and shut the door, I quickly locked it behind her.

I listened as she dragged the quilt chest that was in the hall directly in front of the door. It was essentially a very heavy box filled with a lot of quilts from over the years. Then I sat on the floor in front of the window, clutching the baseball bat. I sat there for what seemed like hours, but it was probably only five minutes. As I was sitting there, I heard footsteps outside the window followed by two deep voices talking quietly. Are you sure they're in there?

Maybe nobody's home, one of the voices said. No, there are at least two women in there, and I heard them talking at the door. I also saw a guy and a kid leave when we passed the house earlier, the other voice explained. I shuddered and began to hyperventilate, but quickly covered my face with a towel to mute myself. Who were these guys? What did they want? Why were they here?

Soon I heard another voice. Guys, let's go. Charlie spotted a cop down the road. I then heard three sets of feet running towards the front of the house. I was full on crying at this point. Tears were streaming down my face as I wondered, was it over? Were they leaving?

A few more minutes went by and I suddenly heard a man's voice in the house. I began to panic, so I huddled in the corner of the bathroom. I then heard my mom's voice on the other side of the bathroom door. Sis, it's me, she said. The sheriff is here. The two men are gone. I'm moving the quilt chest. I then got up and unlocked the bathroom door. When I opened it, I found the sheriff and my mom on the other side,

pushing the trunk out of the way. I quickly ran to my mom's arms, and we just stood there, holding each other. The sheriff said that he had a few more officers chasing down the van, and that he needed to ask me and my mom some questions. My mom nodded and we walked into the kitchen where the smell of burnt cookies was wafting in the air. The sheriff asked us some questions and that was when I found out the entirety of what

my mom really saw. When she initially looked out, she saw the man who was knocking on the door and knew something was off immediately. He was casually dressed in gym shorts and a tank top, so not something a salesman or people from a church would wear when coming around. My mom then thought that maybe his car had broken down or something and assumed that he was just here for help. So she looked out at the driveway and that's when she saw something that made her stomach drop.

There was a van in the driveway parked at an angle that wouldn't allow my mother to leave. There was a man in the passenger seat and another leaning towards the front from the back seat as he talked to the guy in the passenger side. My mom noticed that even though they were both still sitting, the van was slightly rocking. It was like there were more people inside. As my mom and I were finishing up with the sheriff, the deputy walked in looking pale.

He looked at my mom, the sheriff, and me and said, Sir, we were able to catch up with the van. They actually lost control of their vehicle and swerved into a ditch. The sheriff replied, Are any of them hurt? No, sir, said the deputy. They're all fine, but we did place them in custody. After the sheriff quirked an eyebrow, the deputy continued,

There were five men in the van. We asked them what they were doing and why they were walking around the house. And the sheriff replied, what did they say? They said they were vacuum salesmen, the deputy explained. They said that they were a team working together to try and sell the product that they made. The sheriff scoffed, and the deputy continued. The other deputy ended up checking out the van as well. The deputy then audibly gulped as he looked over at me and my mom. That's not what they found, though, the deputy said.

Then the officers took my mom outside and told her what they really found. She was horrified and wrapped me in a hug when she came back inside sobbing. After that, they phoned my dad and he came rushing home. My other uncle, who was a mountain of a man, stayed with us that night, just in case. My dad and mom spared no expense on a home security system after that, and taught both of us kids how to properly load and shoot a gun. My aunt and uncle gave us one of their German Shepherd puppies as well. My mom ended up having him trained to be an attack dog,

though you wouldn't be able to tell. When he's not in defense mode, he's dopey and lovable. All of this still wasn't enough to put my mom at ease though. So my brother and I ended up taking self-defense lessons and our cousins were sent with us. It wasn't until a few years later that I found out what was really in the van. Coincidentally, my mom and I were baking again

when I finally asked her about it. She was shocked that I asked but proceeded to tell me, as she figured I'd find out eventually. It turns out in the back of the van, the deputies found rope, tape, burlap sacks, and even sedatives. They also found guns and burner phones. After all of the guys were taken in, they were separated for questioning,

and one guy broke after several hours and admitted that they were having no luck and nabbing anyone in town, so they started going out to rural areas. This really terrified me. I would have never guessed. To this day, I'm very careful about whom I open the door to, and I just can't sleep unless I have some sort of weapon beside my table.

This experience really shattered my trust in other people. Whenever I go out, I automatically assume most people intend to hurt me. While I'm in therapy and my therapist is trying to help me with that. I sincerely hope that I never have to go through a situation like this again. Thanks for listening and stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended version of this week's episode. If you'd like to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today. You'll get access to ad free versions of all of our episodes at a higher bit rate for

the best listening experience. Plus bonus content every single week with stories you won't hear anywhere else. Again that's patreon.com forward slash let's not me podcast. This week you have heard His Plans Escalated to Murder by Anonymous, followed on the sketchy side of town by NoCareer2880, Don't Go to the Gas Station at Night by Important Self6311, A Stranger Entered My Apartment When I Was 10 by Spoon, The Fireman's Widow by Zebarum. Woke up to a man sticking his head into my tent while sleeping by Trampolini69 and finally The Vacuum Salesman by oopsie doopsie zero zero.

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. Send your stories in to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com to hear them on the show. And don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, Cryptic Encounters, and the Old Time Radio Cast at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts. And finally, be sure to follow my Twitch account at twitch.tv slash cryptic county for all

of my streaming content. We'll see you all next week. Everybody stay safe. My name is Aiden and I'm 24 years old.