Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 2x17: Cigarette Man - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: October 7, 2019

Stories in this episode: The bloodcurdling scream that woke me up at 3 AM... - greatbuildings I was kidnapped as a child. - throwaway-exrac We were best friends.. - buttercupfukup My 6th grade science project partner - SmirkyShrugs 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 in the Seseason 2 episode 17 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. It was Christmas time.

My wife and I were staying at her childhood home, where her mother now lived all alone. Well, not if you include the cats. The house was on a quiet, cold as sack, and the suburbs. If you picture freshly mowed lawns, American flags, and empty sidewalks, you're picturing it right. It was a single story home with an attached garage out front. The garage has two doorways, apart from the electric garage door. One leads to the garden and backyard. This had an old doggy door, from their days with dear old Macs, that they covered with a piece of nailed-in wood.

That had always made me slightly uncomfortable before, but I figured it had always been that way for years, so what's the worst that could happen? The second door leads to the kitchen, hollow core. It could stop a mouse, but not much else. Definitely not something that wanted in, or someone. We were asleep in my wife's childhood bedroom at the front of the house. Three a.m. I was in that deep, dark recess of sleep, you know. You're in the diving bell, and you're submerged hundreds of meters below the surface in black water protected from the real world by miles of nothingness. Then I heard it, a scream.

What are you doing? It was in my mother-in-law's voice that I heard this echoing down the hallway. To me, lost in a sea of sleep, it sounded like a jet engine roaring past my eardrum. I bolted up. What happened next happened in a matter of seconds. But about that scream, even though I was dead asleep, I heard it enough to sense an urgency behind it. It wasn't in, oh, you scared me, type of scream, it was different, and I knew it. Not consciously, but my lizard brain, that piece we retained from our primitive ancestors, it knew something was wrong. I watch and read a fair amount of Drew crime, and this scream awakened that horrible fear. The one that says, this can't really be

happening to me, can it? Honestly, in that second of the night, it sounded like someone was going to be murdered. Ever wonder if you're a fighter flight type of individual? I always have, and I came to know something about myself this night. I'm a fighter, I leaped out of bed, and growled. Yeah, I growled in the manliest voice that I could muster. I'm gonna kill you, mother fucker, and took off running. I tore open the bedroom door and ran down the hallway. There, at the end, I saw my mother-in-law, nightgown on,

look of utter shock on her face, standing still. We make eye contact as I continue to ward her. Then she turns her head and looks directly into the kitchen. A hurry passed her, and around the corner into the kitchen. The hollow cord door is obliterated, shards everywhere. I look through the open frame to see the electric garage doors open. I push ahead. As I run into the garage, I hear it. The sound of someone hopping into a running car just out of view. Just as I make it into

the driveway, I see the car peeling out from the sidewalk adjacent to the house. But the adrenaline is still pumping. And who am I to say no to adrenaline? So like an idiot, I run barefoot after the car. I give it a good go, but I'm no Michael Jackson, and even he couldn't catch a speeding car. It soon vanishes down the street and I'm left all alone. The police showed up within 3 minutes, which I have to say makes me feel a lot more at ease with my mother-in-law living there.

It took our statements. My mother-in-law said that she heard a noise, the hollow core door being kicked in, and walked into the kitchen where she encountered the burglar, a small framed woman. The police theorized she was working as part of a team, her job was to squeeze through the doggy door, kicking the hollow core and open the electric garage door for her accomplice. According to the police, the burglar's most likely thought nobody was home. Fortunately, my mother-in-law must have caught her off guard and scared her. But it feels good to know that everyone was safe, and to learn that I guess I've got

a little fight in me. And for the record, we bought the heaviest goddamn wooden door that you'd ever seen to replace that hollow core. I'd like to see a mouse try and get through that. I'm a girl. My mom was a horrible addict. She barely took care of me as a kid. At the time of this incident, I was around six or seven, so my awareness and understanding of things happening may not totally make sense.

This happened to me in the 90s. One night my mother and I were on a car ride. I wasn't sure why we were driving, but it was late at night. I'm not sure what time, but I assume it was really late because there weren't many cars on the street and I was sleeping in the back seat. I don't even remember getting into the car.

My mom drove up to some sketchy house and left me in the car for what felt like forever. Suddenly, the car door swung open, and someone violently grabbed me by the arm and yanked me out of the car. I started screaming and crying until the man that grabbed me looked me in the eyes and said, be quiet and don't try to run or I'll kill you. He had a scruffy beard and looked like a madman. I was scared to death, so I listened. He held me tight by my arm, shut the car door,

and walked me down the street. I looked back at the house that my mom was in, hoping that she would come out, but last second, and save me. I looked at the house as long as I could, as the man dragged me further and further away. As we walked down the street, I wanted to cry, but I was in shock, and in fear. I didn't know what to do. If I sniffled or cried, the man would tighten his grip, and yell at me. I can't even explain how scared and confused that I was. We walked for a little while and ended up in the projects. The projects were a bunch of buildings crammed together in a shitty neighborhood. We walked into one of the buildings and walked up a flight of stairs. My legs and feet hurt like hell, but I was too scared

to stop moving or complain. We walked up another flat of stairs when I saw some random guy smoking a cigarette in the stairway. Then, without a warning, the guy that kidnapped me failed to the ground. It happened so fast. I didn't know how the kidnapper fell to the ground so fast, but the next thing I remember is the cigarette guy was punching and kicking the kidnapper in the head and face. The kidnapper was out cold.

The cigarette guy picked up the kidnapper by the back of his jacket and threw him down the stairs. You have no idea how scary and violent it is to see an unconscious man fall down the stairs. You have no idea how scary and violent it is to see an unconscious man fall down the stairs. To this day, I still have a fear of falling downstairs. He bled everywhere. I still have no idea how the cigarette guy knew to help me, but I'm glad he did. Maybe he could see the tears in my eyes. Maybe he just picked up on something and had a bad vibe, but he acted instantly. The first second he could, he attacked my would-be kidnapper. The cigarette guy starts pacing back and forth, swearing to himself, gritting his teeth and

clenching his fists. I thought he was mad at me, so I started to cry. He looked at me and said, okay, okay, okay, shut up, just shut up. He had an attitude, so I listened to him out of fear. I wasn't scared of cigarette guy as much as the bearded guy, but I was still in fear of him. He started to ask me questions with an attitude. Why are you out this late? Where are your parents? Why would you talk to strangers?

I was in so much shock and confusion that I couldn't answer the man's questions correctly. He asked if I knew my way home and I told him that I didn't. I told him a broken story about what happened and somehow with the information that I gave him he knew where my mom's car was. The only thing I remember about the road is passing a house with Christmas lights on it, despite Christmas already being over. I think he knew the area well enough and figured out where I needed to go from that information, but I honestly don't even remember telling him about the Christmas lights.

Anyways, he told me he would take me back if I promised over and over that I wouldn't tell the police that I saw him or anyone that looked like him and made me promise that I wouldn't even tell the police anything. He had an attitude. I didn't care what he asked me. I just wanted to go back to my mom, so I agreed. I followed him down the stairs, and the bearded guy was still lying on the ground, bleeding at the bottom of the stairs, that cigarette guy threw him down.

It wasn't moving at all, for all I know he was dead, and I hope now that he was. Sigarette guy stepped over the bearded guy, and I followed. We walked outside, and cigarette guy looked over the bearded guy and I followed. We walked outside and cigarette guy looked around panicky. I remember him telling me, the police don't like me. We walked out of the projects and my feet still hurt. The cigarette guy was walking fast in a panic and I had to basically jog to keep up with him. I started crying and he asked me what was wrong. I told him that my feet hurt and I remember him sucking his teeth and picking me up with that attitude. He awkwardly cradled me in both arms. We walked down the road for a moment. Then I remember him

swearing and running behind a house or a building. That cop car was driving down the road. He put me down and told me to run to the police car. I tried to run, but my legs could barely move, and I was scared. The cop car kept driving down the road, away, without seeing me before I could even get remotely close to it. He kept swearing to himself as he picked me up again and ran down the street. He took me behind a lot of houses and hid from every car the drove by. I assume now that the police were looking for me. He carried me in both arms running fast down the road when I saw my mom at her car in the distance. She was surrounded by the police. Sigerat guy put me down and told me to run. I got so excited the pain in my legs disappeared. When he put me down, he ran away. I ran towards the police and my mom. My mom picked me up and hugged me tight. The police

started to ask me and my mom questions. I don't remember too much about their questions, but I remember my mom telling the police some convoluted story that just didn't make sense. She basically told me not to say anything and I didn't say much, but I cried a lot. We went home. Days later, my dad picked me up and knew something was wrong. I told him everything.

I never lived with my mom again. When I grew up and had time to think about that day, I never forgave her. Not too long ago I asked my dad what he remembers about the situation. He told me what he thinks happened from what I explained to him from years ago. He said my mom was on a drug bench. I got kidnapped. Someone saved me, but the person that saved me had warrants and wasn't mad at me. He was just frustrated with the situation that he had to deal with.

Imagine being a criminal on the run and now you have a kidnapped girl with you and you just beat a guy half to death. If he would have gotten caught with me, he could be in jail for my kidnapping. With my mom lying and me being in shock and confused, I wouldn't be able to tell them that the man helped me because while I was all happening, I didn't even notice that he was helping me. So to the man that saved me, thank you. To the man that tried to kidnap me, let's not meet. 18T fiber presents 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 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 Gigailionaire with AT&T Fiber, limited availability and select areas. Visit ATT.com slash Hypergate for details. When I was a little girl in primary school, I was very close to a group of boys.

We would play fight and breaks, or pretend to be dragons, and the group was quite solid. I was friends with a lot of my class and primary, but I wasn't a fan of sitting around and talking like all the girls did. My best friend, or one of the best friends at the time, Tommy, I don't remember too much about him, but we had been friends since year two. We would play fight, and he would add ideas for my dragon club. I went to his house once or twice, and he went to mine. He called me thick ones, because I said in my woke six-year-old mind that there were no boy colors, or or girl colors and that I could like green if I wanted and he could pick pink. It was a pretty normal friendship.

Then when I was in my last year, your six, my parents decided to move countries. On one of my last days, Tommy confessed his feelings for me very awkwardly like a little boy would, and I played it off, just as awkwardly. I think in my memory I pretended to him that I thought he was talking about another girl. While I moved, and as expected from anyone older than me, I didn't remain in contact with a lot of my class, including Tommy. Life went on as it does.

I went through high school and made new friends. Tommy requested me once on Facebook when I was 15. He was using a fake account which was a little weird, but I didn't think much of it. He sent me photos of himself telling me he was trying to get into modeling, not something I expected from him, but I was supportive nonetheless. In fact, I remember thinking he was kind of attractive and showed my friends for opinions. Besides that, there was no more conversation with Tommy, and we continued to live separate lives.

That is until I moved back to my home country. I followed my parents back home after staying behind for two years. I was 19, turning 20 and was excited to build my life back at home. It had been so difficult by myself I had no other family in the country and had just split up with my ex of four years. I was doing well. I had gotten a new job, entered a new relationship, moved into my own place, I was starting to feel established in my new life. I had met up with a few friends from primary school, nothing too exciting, just more of a, where are they now type of thing. I just loved getting to see who all these kids had grown up to be.

type of thing. I just loved getting to see who all these kids had grown up to be. That is, until I got a message request from Tommy. It was the same nonsense as before. No profile pick, no friends, nothing on their account. So I messaged back asking how they knew me. Sure enough, he said, we went to primary school together. Conversations started normal, asking each other how they were and what was new. He asked me, whereabouts are you? Do you want to meet up? There was nothing unusual about those messages, but the vibe that I got. I guess it wasn't uncomfortable.

I just said that I was busy and would happily organize when things had calmed down. He began to talk about how he wanted to go into working with cybercrime and terrorism, telling me to watch Mr. Robot and how realistic to his job that would be. robot and how realistic to his job that would be. I got busy and I stopped responding to what he said, are you going to respond or what? That bristled me a bit, so I replied saying, I didn't appreciate his tone. He apologized, and in the same message asked where I work, and that he would like to see me.

My bad vibes perked up again. Usually I don't care about telling people where I work, but this time I made sure to be as broad as possible, saying, just a shop in town. It would be cool to catch up when I'm not busy. We'll just have to check with my boyfriend and see that he's cool with me meeting up. Instantly, he got defensive asking me if my boyfriend was in the country telling me, I'm not property, so I should do just what I want. He sent multiple messages, how it's beyond him why I would have to check since I'm not married.

I didn't respond to any of it. The next day he apologized and said he was just jealous and depressed. I pointed out that it had been ten years since I've seen him so his jealousy made no sense. He said it was my loss if I didn't see him. I just didn't respond. Then it was, I'm free any time. I didn't respond to that either. Suddenly, he messaged me saying he was going to hack my details and sell them to the dark web if I didn't respond to him. So I blocked him. I was rather amused at the entire situation if I'm

being honest, but then I got a message from a random girl. Obviously a fake account with no friends or photos. Bar the one selfie that looked like it was straight off of Tumblr. The message read, you blocked me, you dumb cow. You know who this is, and I'll find you. My laughter often didn't respond. And then he started commenting on my profile pictures, calling me a slag, a slut, a whore, all of it.

Then came the multiple accounts, requests after requests popping up, all called, I will find you. At that point, I was pretty freaked out, for the sake of port timing a silver beat-up car started patrolling my street at night. I live in a complex on the third floor, so it's a shared driveway. This car would drive into my parking, stay for two minutes, then drive off.

It did this routinely for a few days. I don't buy any mains, think it was Tommy, but the timing was way too close and creeped me out even more. For fear of how unstable he could be, he held a crush for ten years. How about a grudge? I don't know. Tommy, let's not meet. This final story contains some of content concerning amphibians. If this is something that you may be sensitive to, but I believe this happened in sixth grade. It's hard for me to believe that this took place 20 years ago. One thing I don't remember is what our science project was, exactly.

All I know is that I got partnered up with this Mexican kid in my class named Brian. He seemed like a chill kid at school. He was chubby, quiet, and kind of shy. When I went to his house to work on our project for the first time, he was apparently much more comfortable and seemed to be very outgoing. He made jokes and laughed a lot, a lot more than usual. He kept saying stuff to his mom in Spanish, and then they would both laugh at me. But I never thought that it was really mean I would laugh along, even

though I didn't know what they were saying. Usually afterwards he would tell me what they had supposedly said. At one point we were in his room and he asked me to go to his mom for lined paper. I told him I didn't speak Spanish and he should go ask her. But he said he would just tell me how to say it. I don't remember exactly when he told me to say but I went to her and asked. I knew something was off right away, just because of the way that she looked at me when I said something. It was, I knew something was off right away, just because of the way that she looked at me when I said something. It was like I said something crazy.

She grabbed my hand and walked me to the bathroom, like I was a special little boy. Once we were in the bathroom, she pointed at the toilet paper with that confused look on her face, as if to say, where the hell else would it be? I was confused and could only speak to her in English while she spoke to me in Spanish, and we didn't understand each other. Soon we heard Brian having a hilarious laughing fit in the other room, laughing so hard like he thought it was the funniest thing ever. But I was pretty sure it was only kind of funny.

I wasn't worried though, I just laughed it off. Ha ha, yeah you got me. Eventually he became really excited to show me something. He told me he'd be right back, and then he ran out of his room. He was gone for a minute or so, and then returned, telling me to follow him. He was so sure that I was going to love whatever it was that he was going to show me. So I was excited. I couldn't wait. We get outside, and he goes to this little shed and pulls out a lawnmower. He tells me to follow him. He started the mower, began walking, and then gestured with his hand again for me to follow him.

As we walked, we rounded a corner, and there on the ground was a net full of frogs. There were maybe twenty or more frogs in there. I didn't have time to stop him. Right before it happened, we looked at each other. Him looking at me to make sure I was looking, and me looking at him in pure confusion. He pulled back the mower, raising the blades, and then let the weight of the spinning blades fall down on the pilot frogs The mower bogged down for just a split second and there was a sickening wet crunching sound Followed by chunks being spit everywhere as he raised the blades back up

He raised the blades and let them fall on the pile of frogs four or five times, all while staring at my face and laughing maniacally at my horrified reaction. He released the bar and the mower went silent as he crumpled to the ground and began rolling around on the grass, laughing. A couple of frogs escaped without getting blended, a few more frantically scattered away from the mower, missing limbs. I awkwardly laughed with him and played along like nothing bad had just happened. I never got disgusted to the point of throwing up and it's hard to disgust me at all, but from that point on I definitely knew there was something wrong with Brian. Until now, I never told anyone.

I wouldn't say that I was afraid, it was just that I didn't think it was a good idea to tell anybody what had happened. Not as mom, not my friends, not my parents, not my brother, not my sister, and not my best friend. I didn't tell anybody anything about it, and Brian never did anything like that or mentioned it again. It was the weirdest thing. They say that the quiet ones, you gotta watch out for them.

I haven't seen them since the sixth grade ended, but sometimes I wonder just what kind of person he turned out to be. I haven't seen him since his sixth grade ended, but sometimes I wonder just what kind of person he turned out to be. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast this week you have heard. The Blood Curling Screen that woke me up at 3am by Reddit user Great Buildings. I was kidnapped as a child by Reddit user ThrillawayXRac. We were best friends by Reddit user ButtercupFuckUp. And my sixth grade science project partner by Smirkey Shrugs. If you enjoyed these stories and you want water, please check out my Patreon at patreon.com forward slashlets.notmeatpodcast. I do bi-weekly bonus episodes as well as single story episodes in between each week.

This week I told one of the most terrifying and disturbing stories I've told in quite a while, so I do encourage you to go check it out. If you'd like to send in your stories to be heard on the podcast, email Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com and if you have any questions, email me at Let's Not Meet Podcast at gmail.com. I'll see you guys next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet and a new guest. You you