Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 1x07: Kessington - Let's Not meet

Episode Date: March 3, 2019

Stories in this episode: I almost got car jacked or worse - user_327 The Shack on Kessington - Tyler Brown Naked Man at my Bedroom Door - Lauren Courtney Dark House in the Woods - HereForLNM Follow Let's Not Meet: Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/  Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast  Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com  Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast  Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/crypticcounty   

AT&T Fiber presents a straightforward moment. Your wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward.

Me too. Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber, limited availability and select areas, visit ATT.com slash Hypergate for details. My name is Andrew Tate and this is season 1 episode 7 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. This week's episode starts off with four listener-submitted stories, followed by a bonus

story of my choice from the first run of Let's Not Meet. It's one of my favorites, so stick around towards the end. And if you'd like to hear your story on the podcast, email Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. I've been dating my girlfriend for about two and a half years. She's a small blonde with a positive attitude about everything. We go to college, so we only get to see each other so much. Her school is in New Hampshire and mine is in Massachusetts. Since she doesn't have a car, I'll usually drive up in my little red car that I got from

my grandmother. I'm not a huge fan of the car, but I got it basically from free so I can't complain. I never had an issue making this hour and a half drive, but a few weeks ago, I got more than my fill. I was visiting my girlfriend and it was already becoming sort of a rough day. We wanted the dorm room to ourselves, but her bitchy room mate wouldn't leave, so we hung out in the common room. After spending most of the day together, we finally decided that it was time for me to head back to my own school.

I said goodbye and that I would text her when I got back. It was 6 o'clock anyways, so it was getting pretty dark outside given that it was winter. I normally take the new hamster backroads for a more scenic route and also to avoid traffic. This doesn't affect the time of traveling at all, so that's also a plus. Most people who live in or visit New Hampshire know that most of the backroads are not well lit with street lights. Some don't even have any lighting at all. This isn't much of a problem because we can just put on the high beams.

About 30 minutes of driving went by. When I turned down, a road that looked as if it were just a wide path, the GPS said it would be going straight for about seven miles, and due to knowing about the way New Hampshire roads could be, I didn't think anything of it. The street was just how I had mentioned before, and was narrow enough for my car, and maybe one half of a car to fit on. It was surrounded by woods and wasn't well lit by any kind of street lights. I got about three or four miles in and I saw a man in my high beams standing in the middle of the road. He was waving my car

down asking for help. The road wasn't big enough for me to pass around him, so I had to stop. The man then came around to my driver's side window and gestured for me to roll it down. I wasn't fully thinking straight, so I rolled my window about halfway down. He looked to be an average 40 to 45 year old male, but he gave off a disturbing presence. He told me he was having car trouble and asked for me to get out of the car and help him. Now I'm a 19 year old guy that has an average build with brown surface styled hair. None of the physical qualities hint to me knowing anything about cars. I told him that I knew nothing about cars and that if he really needed help, that I could call him a mechanic or a tow truck. He kept gesturing to his black rusted pickup truck

and insisted that I get out to help him. This started to give me chills, and I didn't know what to do. That's when I noticed there was someone crouching behind his truck. The man couldn't tell that I began to internally panic. My fighter flight senses, kicked into gear, and I chose to try something risky. I then told the guy that I would pull over on the side of the road up ahead and get out to see what I could do to help him.

This seemed to work, but the guy began to smile. He backed off of my car and I stepped as hard as I could on my gas pedal. I sped off looking into my rear view mirror to see both men run out into the middle of the road and just stand there. I kept driving as fast as I could until I got off of the road to a nearby gas station where I stopped to call the police. I told the dispatch my experience and then asked if I needed to stick around for questioning. They told me that they would send some officers to check out the street, and that I was fine to continue

on driving. They then called my girlfriend and told her what had happened, and she was just happy that I was safe. I have no idea what those guys intentions were. They don't know if they were actually having car troubles, or if I was going to get car jacked, or worse. were actually having car troubles or if I was going to get car jacked or worse. Needless to say that after that night I will not be driving the back roads alone at night anymore. Also to the men that were having car troubles, let's not meet again. This story takes place about five years ago. I was 18 at the time and I had just gotten my license, and at the desire to explore. My friends and I would spend our weekend nights exploring abandoned buildings, or supposedly haunted buildings in the area. We were thrill seekers, and it was an exciting

thing to do in a very rural location. I told my uncle about some of the adventures that my friends and I would go on, and he told me that when he was my age, he did similar things with his friends. He described to me a small shack on Kessington Road in Michigan, about 40 minutes from my house. He stated that when he was younger, he and his friends had heard rumors about a cult that would inhabit the grounds and do rituals with blood and goat carcasses. This obviously sounds like the typical fake cult story, but it peaked their interest. One night, they drove to Kessington in hopes for something exciting to happen.

They got just that. As they arrived, a man came out to the street with a shotgun and scared them away. As they sped down the dirt road, a deer ran out in front of them a little ways down the street and they flipped their car into a ditch. The police came and investigated. The man with the shotgun was just a squatter. Well, a few months had passed, and my uncle noticed something on Crime Stoppers. The man that came out of the edge of the road had been murdered, and his killer was unknown. The whole incident

was enough to make my uncle and his friends not want to go anywhere near that place again. Well, this story was really interesting to me, and I mean really interesting. The following weekend, I told my friends about this story and we decided that we wanted to see the shack being that it wasn't that far away. I typed Kessington Road into my Apple Maps along with a few other key things my uncle said that it was close to. I found a location and on a Saturday night my friends and I set out for an adventure. The directions were fairly difficult to follow. The closer we got to the destination, the fewer cars we saw, until there was absolutely no other traffic.

There were deserted cornfields on both sides of us. The paved road that we were driving on approach to T intersection with the paved road going left and right. This is as far as the GPS would take us. Kessington Road was ahead, not left or right, but straight ahead. The road was dirt and not even shown as a road on the map's app. We drove on this dirt road for about three minutes before we located the shack. It was a small building, incredibly small. It was slightly larger than a shed. There were no male boxes for this place, and it didn't even have an address on the house. The windows were all

boarded up with wood, and it looked almost uninhabited. We didn't know what we'd find, being that my uncle had visited this place probably ten years prior. But the place still gave us the creeps. Perhaps it was because of the boarded up windows, and the absolute lack of life and its surroundings. We pulled over to the side of the road, in front of the shack. All of us afraid to get out and explore. We rolled down the windows, and turned the car completely off in order to see if we could hear anything. I swear to you. we heard chanting, a repetition of words being said. However, we could not understand what was being said, or even if it was in English.

This gave us chills, but we continued to see what else we could hear. Beneath the chanting was an extremely old broadcast being played. It sounded like a World War II era radio program. This was enough to scare us off, so we left. We returned again a week later, and we heard the same broadcast playing. Nothing else happened other than that. It was such a mysterious location. A few weeks had passed and we decided we wanted to check the place out again, this time in the daylight. We headed there feeling more confident now that we weren't surrounded in darkness. We parked the car on the side of the dirt road again and actually got out and approached

the shack. A friend of mine went around the back while I held my ear against one of the boarded up windows trying to see if I could hear anyone inside. As we are investigating, a car drives by. This was strange mind you that this shack is in the middle of nowhere on a dirt road away from any other houses. We sort of brushed it off and continued investigating. My friend comes around and tells me what the back looks like as the same vehicle drives by again from the opposite direction, not even a minute later.

We paid closer attention this time, but we couldn't see the driver being that the windows were tinted. We started to grow more cautious. Again, the car circled back around and drive past us. This was it. We ran back to the car and drove out of there. We made a turn on the next available street.

But to our surprise, that same car was following behind us. We were terrified. We made random turns anywhere that we could to try and lose them, but we couldn't shake them. They followed close behind us for what felt like an hour, but it was probably only 10 minutes eventually they backed off. It had been a while before we would return back to the shack on Kessington. Well, another boring night in rural Michigan approached us about a month or two later and we decided it was time to head back. I know it may not seem like a fun time, but the mystery behind the place was exhilarating.

We were almost drawn to the place. We needed more. This time it was late, maybe 1 a.m. or so. We approached the shack by car and noticed something different this time. There was a big white van on the side of the road in front of the shack. Now the van wasn't parked along the road, but instead it was perpendicular. The front half of the van was on the dirt road while the back half was in the field. To make things even stranger, the van doors were wide open and wires were hanging out from

the bottom of the van. No one was inside or around. It was just abandoned. It looked like an abduction scene. Needless to say, we didn't stop our car to listen for noises this time. We saw the setup, and we left. I haven't returned to the shack since. There was such a mystery to this location from the murdered squatter to boarded up windows

and being chased all the way to the abandoned van with the door's wide open. This place was strange. It's a mystery that I guess I'm not meant to discover. So to the squatter's murderer, those whom we heard chanting over an old radio broadcast and those that chased us out of the area. Let's not meet again. I live in a three-story townhouse in a fairly safe but busy neighborhood in Australia. My partner and I lived in our home for a little over two years, and we had always felt very safe due to the fact that we share walls with other properties.

A little over five months ago, my partner and I were asleep in bed on a Friday morning, early enough that it was still dark. It should be noted that our bedroom is in the top story of our house, accessible only through two sets of wooden internal stairs. I was awoken by the sound of my bedroom door opening, and I sleepily stirred, assuming that it was probably my partner getting up to use the bathroom. As I rolled back over to settle to sleep, I noticed that I could feel my partner's body and bed next to me. Realizing this didn't make sense, I turned back to face the door. A tall man stood

in the open door. Completely stunned, I watched the man slowly back out of the doorway and closed the door. I hit my partner awake and urgently informed him that there was someone in our house. I hit my partner awake and urgently informed him that there was someone in our house. It was at this point that we heard loud, creaking footsteps descend the wooden stairs. My partner sprung to life and followed downstairs, whilst I called the police. I'm still unsure of exactly what I said to them, but they must have gotten the message they're my sleepy and confused explanation. I joined my partner downstairs on the second level. The first thing I noticed was the smell.

I'm a teacher, and I spend most of my days in human classrooms with pretty smelly teenage boys, but this was like nothing I'd ever experienced. The odor was so strong in the air that my partner and I stood gagging as we waited for the police to arrive. On our way to our front door to let the police and we noticed clothing that didn't belong to us on the stairs. A shirt and a bandana that had definitely seen better days. Letting the police in, they checked the property for other evidence.

They located fingerprints on the second story window that had been opened and a handprint of feces on the stair-reling. Nothing appeared to be stolen, despite money and car keys sitting on our kitchen table. The police wanted to make sure that our vehicles were secure, and we went outside to check that they were okay. As the intruder had left on foot, the police organized for police dogs to follow his scent. And to be honest, the smell was so bad that I think I could have done it myself.

As we stood outside checking the car, my partner quietly noted, a rather unusual sight in our street. To our shock, a completely naked man was being chased by an angry German shepherd running down the street. After a moment of disbelief, the man was apprehended by the police, whilst protesting that he had never done anything wrong. He was promptly wrapped up and shocked while I'll put in the back of a police van. The smell filled the air of our streets. It was inescapable. We were later told that he was charged and we are now waiting to hear if we need to go to court for trial. Needless to say, our day involved hiring a cleaner to remove the actual feces

from our house as well as cleaning every surface in case his bare genitalia touched any of it. Given that the police concluded that he climbed into our house barefoot and panceless, it's highly likely that his naked body was in my kitchen. So weird naked smelly man in the house, but let's not meet. I've had a few scary encounters in my life. Not sure if that means that I'm old or just a creep magnet, but this one still creeps me out. In the early 80s when I was eight, my family was visiting my uncle who lived in Backwoods, Missouri. He lived on a lot of land and the only other people who really even lived on the street were relatives, so no one else ever just happened to be out there. This meant that no one ever locked

their doors because random family members were always coming by for this and that. One night we were there, my parents and aunt and uncle decided to go to a nearby town to go bowling. My brothers who were 11 and 12 and my female cousins who were 6 and 14, as well as myself, stayed at home. It was still daylight when the adults left, but it started raining pretty hard and got dark quickly. We used to play this game that was essentially hide and seek in the dark house,

but we cleverly called it vampire. There was a thin little mattress on the living room floor that some of the kids would sleep on at night, so the person who was it would lie on the mattress and fold it over themselves like a coffin and count down a midnight. When they got to midnight, they went looking for you. Again, all the lights are off. So you tried to make it back to the coffin before you got caught, and that's how it all works. Because the house was in the country, it was pitch black at night. You couldn't see your hand in front of your face. What this meant for the game was that one, you couldn't tell where the vampire

was looking, so you just had to make a break for it. And two, if you were extremely lazy, and I'm sure by now you can guess which one of us met those standards, you could hide in the living room with the coffin and get to the base quickly. Then, my 11-year-old brother was it and was doing the normal countdown. I was hiding maybe six feet from him. As he's counting, there's a flash of lightning. I don't know if I was already looking at the living room window or if the lightning made me look, but with the backlight of the lightning, I see a man with his face against the window.

He had his hands on each side of his face as if he were trying to peer in. He looks exactly like the stereotypical creeper, heavy-set, scraggly beard, etc. I could feel every hair on my body standing on end. Immediately I began trying to convince myself that I didn't see what I saw, but then Ben sternly whispered. If anyone is still hiding in here, stay still. I sort of croaked out. I'm here. Bright as the other flash of lightning happened. The creeper was still there. But he was no longer trying to look into the window. Instead, he was now looking toward the front door. Ben and I immediately knew what was coming next. From where he was standing, the creeper was probably only five feet from the door. Ben was the same distance, but there was a couch between him and the door. Ben leapt over the couch and locked the door right as the creeper started trying the handle.

At this point, I guess Ben decided it was best to let the creeper know that people were home and that we knew he was out there because he flipped on the porch light and then started turning on all of the lights in the house. This is going to sound weird, but I was too terrified to panic. Having said that, I was relying completely on Ben to know and tell me what to do. He told me to go lock the other doors and was yelling for everyone else to come out and lock all of the windows. Honestly, the next few minutes were hazy in my mind. I remember everything up until this point extremely clearly. Then I remember the end very clearly, but I'm less clear about the middle. I know that I locked the side door and then the sliding door and the back of the house.

When we've talked about it over the years, some people remember us seeing him out the back door as well. I don't think I remember that. What I clearly recall is locking the sliding glass door and standing there frozen and hearing bin in a very calm but firm voice say, listen to me, okay? Close the curtain. So I did. Bin can't remember that part, and I just remember my fear in Bin's voice, so I'm not sure

if we saw that man in the backyard or not. We tried to call the police, but my aunt and uncle had a stupid party line, and it wouldn't work. Whether from the storm or from a neighbor leaving it off the hook or whatever, for the record, they are the only people I've ever known with a party line, so this wasn't normal for me either. But to those of you who don't know what that is, and really rural areas, multiple people on the street would actually share a phone line.

It would have different rings for different households, but you could pick up the phone and listen to your neighbor's conversations. We also tried to summon help on my uncle's CB radio, but nobody could be reached. My uncle was a hunter, so we had a gun rack full of rifles in his room. However, my older cousin was on and out of town hunting trip and took them with him. All we could find was a BB gun that looked like a real rifle. I vividly remember then putting me on phone duty and Scott, my older brother, on CB duty, while he stood watch at the little square window by the front door with the BB gun.

Maybe 30 minutes later Ben said, he's back. He's coming up the driveway. The rest of us frozen fear, but Ben opened the front door and stepped down on the porch, pointing the gun. And he said, get out of here right now. Then we hear my cousin Kyle, who lived down the road a bit, say, you know that's a BB gun, right? Now, even though Kyle was only 15 hour remember that we felt like we had been saved when he showed up. Kyle seemed really skeptical of our story, like we were playing a trick on him. Even though we had no idea that he

was coming, but he stayed with us until our parents came home. Honestly, I don't remember if we told our parents what happened when they got home. There was definitely no police involvement, though. We just went on our trip, but we never played vampire again, without some mention of that night. When I was about 12, my great-uncle John came from Ukraine to visit us in Canada. He had a lot of stories, but this one was one that stood out. In the late 1960s, John was traveling by train from his village to another to visit family. He had to change trains at one point and was dropped off at what amounted to a platform and a hut in the middle of nowhere. There was no one else at the station, and other than a dirt road that led off into the

surrounding woods, there was nothing there. He waited for some time, but no train came. It was winter and getting colder and darker, and just about the time that he started to worry about a place to stay and some food to eat, an old woman appeared out of the twilight. She asked if he was waiting for such and such train, and when he said that he was, she said that it wouldn't be a long until the following day. She asked if he needed a bed for the night and offered him a meal and a room at her house, which she said was about an hour's walk from the station. Lodging with locals was more or less the standard when traveling in this part of the USSR. And great uncle John wasn't looking forward to a hungry night on a cold platform, so he

was glad to accept her offer. He took his suitcase and they set off together down the dark road into the forest. It was more than an hour away, more like two hours. And by the time that they arrived at the woman's small, two-story house, John was tired and hungry. They went inside and the woman lit some oil lamps and warmed some borscht for them to eat. It was the first time John was able to see the woman clearly. And he was a bit startled to realize that the old woman was actually a man. Not wanting to pry, and

too tired to care, John finished the soup, and asked where he would be sleeping. He then led him upstairs to a tiny room with a window that contained a single bed and nothing else. My uncle thanked him, and they said good night, and he closed the door. Then the stranger locked it, leaving him in the dark. Somewhat creeped out by this. John called to him, but he didn't answer, and he heard nothing else. Figuring that he would deal with it in the morning, and that the stranger had probably done it by mistake, John set

his suitcase down and laid on the bed, deciding to make the best of it, and get some sleep. Before he could fall asleep, though, he felt the urge to go to the bathroom, and got out of bed, hoping to find a chamber pot or something that he could go in. He got on to his hands and knees and began to feel under the bed in the darkness, thinking that that's where the pot would be, if there was one. Instead, he found a body. Uncle John went straight to the window to see if he could exit the room that way, but it was nailed shut. He knew that if he remained in the room, he was probably a dead man. But if he broke the window and tried to get in the room, he was probably a dead man.

But if he broke the window and tried to get out that way, there was a good chance that the old man would hear him and come up to the room before he could get away. So he did the only thing he could do. He pulled the body from under the bed, he'd did under the mattress, and covered it with the blanket. He then got under the bed and waited. Sure enough, about an hour later, he heard footsteps slowly coming up the stairs and then toward the room.

The lock clicked and the knob turned slowly. In the gloom, John saw someone move toward the bed. Then he heard several terrific and sickening thuds. The person had bashed the body on the bed with a large crowbar, which they then dropped to the floor right in front of John. There was silence. Then the person went out of the room, and the door was shut again. The footsteps went down the stairs, and then there was silence. John moved out from under the bed, took the crowbar, and was able to slowly pry the window open.

He didn't say, but I imagine he was shitting bricks the entire time. When the window was up, he threw the suitcase out, then dove out himself, not caring what was below him only worried about what was behind. He landed without too much injury and began to run into a field behind the house towards some lights in the far distance. It turned out to be a highway with some military and transport trucks on it. And John was able to get a ride to another village where he could catch train.

He didn't bother reporting what had happened to the authorities. Since at that time in the USSR, there was a distinct chance that he would have been the one who would have gotten in trouble. He just thanked God, he escaped, and decided that the next time he travels to visit relatives, he would take another way. Thank you for listening to Season 1 Episode 7 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast.

This week you have heard I almost got Car Jacked or Worse by user 327. The Shack on Kessington by Tyler Brown, Naked Man at my bedroom door by Lauren Courtney, Dark House in the Woods by here for Let's Not Meet, and finally the bonus story A Bed for the Night by Tucked Wisdom. Thanks to all the Patreon subscribers out there that are supporting this show, Alicia Loma's Gross, Carissa Snyder, Sherry Nixon, Holiday Special, Jennifer Bourne, Jennifer Inn, Jessica Camero, John Lee Claire, Lauren Paul, Nancy, Olivia Walker, True Crime Fan Club, Zach Bove, and Melissa Hadamiyo.

If you'd like to support this show and hear your name once a month on the podcast, head over to patreon.com-bored-let's not meet podcast. I'll see you guys next week for a special episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. Thanks for listening. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment You're wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good. And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending.

Are you a gigillionaire? Yeah, I have 18T F fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. This one, I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months.

Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T fiber. Limited availability in select areas. Visit atct.com slash hypergig for details. I'll slash Hypergate for details.