Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 3x08: Creepy Cousin - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: December 30, 2019

Stories in this episode: Creepy cousin - Desereelou13 Random Tuesday in October - Reverserer NYE 1999 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  Merch - https://www.teepublic.com/user/letsnotmeet 

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of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. True Horror Podcast. Hey everyone, long time lurker and first time poster to this sub, feel free to leave me your opinions of this event. So back in junior high, I was on the volleyball team. I live in a very rural community. Every year, the school would do a little fundraiser for all the sports teams at this tiny park. It had a couple of makeshift booths, kitchen areas, and a stage. Each team would come up with a game and the players would take turns running that booth.

In those days, I was attached at the hip to one friend in particular who I'm still close with. I'll call her Chris. Both of us played sports and attended this event together. Her mom dropped us off at the park and was going to pick us up after the event was over so that we could help clean up. Both our working shifts were early so we had a lot of downtime. We danced the night away, and right before the event was over, we decided to play football with some of our friends. This park is basically a bunch of fields and trees, separating the different field segments. There is a parking lot when you first enter the park where everyone was parking for the night.

Directly in front of the parking lot is the location for all the booths. The whole setup is at the top of this big hill, then at the bottom of this hill, is where we played football because we had just enough lights from the booth area to see. On with the story. I was picked as a sitter for the first game. I get bored easily and noticed my dad's first cousin is walking around the parking lot. He's on the rescue squad and was basically patrolling. Now this man isn't someone I have seen often in my life, but enough that I know who he is and he knows me. Right before this event,

my parents went through a divorce. This man and his wife picked up some furniture with my mom for her new home. They were literally with us the entire day, about two weeks before this event. The following conversation gets creepier the older I get. I walked up to the cousin and said, Hey, how are you? He responds with, Hey, girl, which is a very usual response for him and he wraps his arm around my shoulders. Again, very normal behavior for him, no red flags.

We make small talk and he asks polite questions about my family, that I politely answer. The whole time we're talking, he asks normal adult questions and I bring up the furniture that he moved into my house. This is where things got weird. The whole time he's walking me around these cars with his arm around my shoulders. It's a decent sized lot, and I realize that we're heading to the far corner, about two car lengths until we reach darkness, and a grove of woods that circles around the park. I stop, but he keeps gently guiding me towards the grove of trees. It's weird, and I'm starting to sense some red flags. His grip has also tightened up a bit,

but at the time, I'm just confused about what's happening. I put my arm around his lower back and sort of spin around so that we get a few feet back towards the center of the lot. I've surprised him a little bit, but when we regain our footing, he just stops moving and stands there. The arm's still around me. At this point, I keep saying my friends are waiting and I need to go. But he just keeps talking. I'm no longer letting him guide

me around, and just when I'm about to kick him in the sunshine place, I hear Chris. She yells very loudly and comes running into the lot. She also makes a big show of getting her basketball coaches attention saying, we would be right over to do something. Finally, the death grip loosens and I walk away. My mind was reeling, and I was so confused, but I wanted this guy to realize that I was on to him. I turned once I was a safe distance, and said that I would tell

my dad, he said hello. This goofy clown of a man, straight blank, asks, who's your father? Completely flabbergasted, I tell him my dad's name, and even though we were under bad lighting, I swear the color drained from his face. He just said, oh, and walked away. To this day I have no idea who this man thought I was or why he was guiding me into the dark. We talked about both my parents and their divorce during our stroll around, so it beats me. I did tell my mom about the situation. She just said that he's a goofball and to stay away from him. I know this isn't the creepiest let's not meet story.

Yet I hope some younger person can learn something. I was too terrified of making a scene and I really think looking back on it that I was in danger. My friend Chris later told me that she had watched part of what happened and got creeped out because she realized where he was leading me, and that I was very clearly trying to walk away. That's why she ran over screaming and got an adult's attention. It's so weird because as a young person you're so afraid of causing a scene over nothing, but your safety is more important than that. If a situation ever makes you uncomfortable, do everything you can to get out of it.

So, creepy relative, let's not ever meet again. 3.30 AM. A random Tuesday in October. Sleeping soundly on my couch, I am awakened by allowed banging and screaming. Not just drunk people at 3 AM screaming, but that horrified, panic field, someone is fucking dying screaming. You know it, if you've ever heard it. My eyes pop open, and I immediately see a half-naked woman covered in blood banging on my door. Ripped button-down shirt, barely holding on.

Bressed, flapping everywhere, and panties. That's it. It's freaking October, and the middle of New England and it's cold as shit here. Anyway, she's banging on my door with both fists screaming. Help me. Help me. They're chasing me. They're going to get me. They're going to kill me. Help me. For the most part, I'm dumb, but not completely. I'm not going to just open the door to some screaming, bloodied up psycho. I hit my alarm and let it go off for a bit. Perhaps, scare off whoever might be chasing her.

Then I do the only humane thing that I can do in this situation, and I let her in. I pull her into my home, and close the door very quickly. I answer the call from the alarm company. Yes, I said, send the police and send an ambulance. Now I have this lady bleeding all over my living room, crying hysterically, repeating over and over. They were animals. They were chasing me like animals. I can clearly hear that she has an accent. I'm figuring maybe Russian or Romanian. She's speaking in broken English, but she's scared as hell. I take her into the kitchen and enter CSI mode. I'm thinking, yeah, I've got this shit. I'm going to not contaminate evidence and make sure I keep all the bloodied rags I use to clean her up for the cops.

All the while, she's still saying she was being chased by animals and all of that. She is fucked up. The sight of her face is scratched. Her arms are scraped. Her legs are all bloody with scrapes. Like she took a really good fall. Just fucked up and bloody everywhere. It's okay, I said.

Calm down, the police are on their way with an ambulance. They were chasing me and then they turned into werewolves. Oh, fuck me, I think to myself. They were chasing me and turned into werewolves in my eyes. Now I'm scared. I say calm down, you're safe here. I bring her back into the living room and I'm fucking scared. Many thoughts are running through my head. Am I going to die tonight? Is she going to attack me? Why aren't the fucking police here yet? I need a weapon in fast.

But mostly, I'm just thinking, what the fuck? Oh my god, she's a fucking psycho. She's bandaged, but still rambling on about animals chasing her. I decide it's probably a good idea to give 911 another call, just to be sure that they know my address. It also allows me to get my couch in between me and her, affording me a bit of safety, not much but I was confident in my run around the couch she'll never catch me skills. She's pacing the living room, rambling when she goes over to the

window and starts staring. A good 10 second stare with the creepy silence attached to it. Then babies. There are babies in the road. Oh my god, look at all of the babies in the road. She screamed this at the top of her lungs. And I'm not coming out from behind the couch. Let the babies in the road die. This goes on for at least 30 seconds. Not an imaginary 30 seconds where you think it's been five minutes, but it's really only been like 10 seconds. This was a full on 30 seconds of screaming and me standing behind the couch thinking, fuck you, I'm not falling for that trick. Finally, the police do come. An officer knocks on the door. I now have to leave the safety of the back side of my couch to unlock

the door. I dash. Jesus fucking Christ. I dash, my ass to that door. And I ran out and told the cop, she's fucking nuts. Be careful. They take her to the ambulance and do whatever they need to do for her. I'm chilling on my couch. Shell shocked. I mean, what the fuck just happened? The cop comes back and asks me if I know her. She looks familiar, but I don't know her. Then he asks me if I was babysitting for her.

I say what? No, no, I'm not babysitting for her. The cop proceeds to say, oh, because she said that you were babysitting her kids, and when she showed up to collect them, you wouldn't give them back to her. At this point, I'm exhausted and frog-eyed, and I throw my rights out the window and tell the cop to search the house and that there's no kids here. The cop knows it's a bullshit story that she gave them but had to ask anyhow. Then I understand that. He doesn't search the house though.

The ambulance takes her away and the cop's leave. Now it's 4 a.m. and I'm sitting on my couch, knowing I'm never going to get back to sleep, and the work day is going to suck. The best part of the story is what the police said in the next day's paper. Resident lets woman claiming to be chased by werewolves into her home. Awesome. Just awesome, I think. Turns out I did know her.

She was my neighbor. Yeah, a great fucking neighbor. I arrive home from my suck ass day to find the DCF waiting outside my door. I now have to let her into my house because I, being the nosy fuck that I am, want to know what the deal is with this psycho woman. Contrary to what the police blotter said, I usually don't let people, sorry, people claiming to be werewolves into my home. I was willing to make the exception for the police the prior night because I was scared as hell. Fear can quickly remove quite a few boundaries. Anyhow the DCF woman informs me that psycho woman was my neighbor. I knew she looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place her face. Perhaps the blood and scrapes and psychotic behavior

threw me off. There seems to be a missing child, or so the psycho woman told them at the hospital. I'm starting to get a little freaked out as a psycho woman already accused me of not giving back her what we thought imaginary kids. The story I got from DCF was limited. She wouldn't divulge very much information, but in a nutshell, what I did manage to get is this. The psycho woman lives next door to me. The house to my right. We share a driveway. The house is a duplex, so people are always coming and going. Now I never paid too much attention to anyone living there. The psycho woman claims she has a child, a little girl, age unknown, and she said that that child is missing. Psycho woman was under the influence of mind-altering drugs. She was Romanian, and that's it.

The messed up thing was, I do remember seeing a child over there. A little girl probably about four. I've only ever seen her one time, maybe twice in the last three years, that the psycho woman has lived there. Again, I never paid much attention to what was going on over there. DCF questions me about everything from, have I seen this lady before to, why would psycho lady choose my door to bang on? I'm not especially paranoid, but I can recognize the potential for a situation to turn ugly very quickly. I tell the DCF lady that I have no clue who this woman is. Why she would bang on my door or where this psycho woman's alleged kid is. Pretty much exactly like that.

DCF lady ensures me that they don't think I'm involved, that it's routine for them to follow up with me though. The DCF lady leaves. I'm pretending like I don't want anything to do with this situation, but honestly, my life is boring. This is the most excitement I've had in months. Next day, for police cars, canine squad, 5-6 uniform cops, 2 plane clothes, all show up at my neighbor's house. My nosey ass goes outside. Psycho woman's door is wide open, and the fuzz is walking in and out, and the canine unit

is bringing the dogs. The cop tells me the following story, and I swear on all that is sacred I am not making this shit up. It seems that upon entering the house, they found it a mess. It was dirty, dinghy, and all around a health hazard. The basement was wall-to-wall mattresses. The bathroom attached to the basement room was fucking rank, according to what the cop said. That was their exact words. It was a two bedroom condo with the non-master

bedroom wall-to-wall mattresses. However, the master bedroom looked like a king's room. Again, I'm using the words that the cop used. That's pretty much all that I got out of the cops. I hung around and watched them drag all the mattresses out. It was pretty fucking gross. Dirty piss stains and whatever else nastyness was all over them. They took about three dressers, cheap Walmart types, and miscellaneous other crap like tables, chairs, a couch, etc. The turns out, this house is a Romanian immigrant sex trafficking operation. The owner of the house is bringing these Romanian girls over, providing housing, if you can call it that, then selling them out for sex.

The cycle woman did have a kid, but was taken away by the DCF about six months prior. The cycle woman herself, as far as I could tell, on the job was using what they think was crack or meth. She freaked out and was all fucked up. And was running home when she must have fell several times. And God all fucked up that way. She, again, what they think,

hit the height of her paranoia upon reaching my door. And then the rest is history. Moral of the story, if you don't let crazy, bloody, half-naked woman into your home at 3.30 a.m. you will never find out that your neighbors are running a Romanian immigrant sex trafficking operation. You're already there, hero. But if you want to take it to the next level, turn up Bull Loose in your backyard. Bull Outdoor can help you design, build, then deliver the outdoor kitchen of your dreams. Think of all the fun you'll have.

Grills, pizza ovens, sinks, ice chests, refrigerators and more. When I was 13, the dawning of a new millennium took place on New Year's Eve. While people were fearing the worst with the Y2K bug or out partying and drinking, I was home alone. In 1996, my parents had split up, and from there they divorced. My mother and I moved across the country from Oregon to Tennessee with her best friend. On the eve of New Year's 2000, I was home alone, and my mother was currently out of state. Now this didn't worry me, as this was not the first time. I often came home to find a note on the kitchen counter, saying that she had gone to Florida for a few days, and that there were groceries in the refrigerator.

Since the divorce, she was regularly leaving me alone for long periods of time to go to Florida. We lived on a relatively quiet road, surrounded by trees, and set a few miles out of town. And I knew most of the people have not by name, then by face, enough to wave and have a small chat with. And had never before been given a reason to be afraid of being alone. On the night in question, I was staying up late watching television. I remember I was watching this movie

called His Body Guard on the USA Channel. I had most of the lights on in the house, not because I was afraid, but because at 13, I wasn't concerned with electricity bills or saving the environment. I felt completely safe and protected within my little bubble of a home. As I was watching the movie, I kept hearing these weird sounds outside, but I remember

thinking it was probably the neighbors, though they weren't extremely close. A couple of them were having a party or people over for the holiday. About halfway through the movie, however, the power in the house suddenly went dead. I sat on the couch for a minute, just sort of in a panicked days, because it was near midnight, in pitch black. I remember thinking that the power must have gone out, and that it would come back on, so I just decided to sit on the couch with my blanket and wait. A few minutes passed by when I heard a noise in the kitchen where the back door is. My heart started racing in my chest because I thought it sounded like the back door being

shut. The back door sits just off of the dining room, which is connected to the kitchen which leads directly into the living room where I was currently sitting on the couch. A few seconds passed after I heard the sound, and I was straining my ears to pick up anything that wasn't supposed to be there. Every noise suddenly felt magnified. When footsteps sound on the floor, I immediately slithered off of the couch onto all fours, crawled around the ottoman, and started to slowly, and quietly as I could, make my way toward the space between the love-seat and the couch. I knew I could fit under the table, and be

completely hidden by the dark and the ottoman, from playing hide and go seek out in the dark many times, with my friends during sleepovers. I was nearly there when the footsteps became more apparent. I knew from the sound of them that whoever it was was making their way through the kitchen now, toward the living room. They weren't hurried or anything. It was like they were just moving around the kitchen. I glanced up from where I was crouched on the floor, and to my horror there was a dark silhouette standing in the archway between the two rooms. To my credit, I didn't scream. However, I did panic. I stood immediately to my feet from my hiding spot and ran down the hallway, and I believe the only reason I wasn't overcome was because the person chasing me had to get around the

ottoman in the dark to follow me. I did what children do when they were afraid, and I bypassed the front door, and the guest bedroom, the bathroom, and ran to the farthest door down the hallway. My bedroom. In all honesty, I probably wouldn't have been able to get the front door unlocked and open in time, as it was right off to the side of the couch. When I was ten, I got a bird from my birthday. He was a blue-fronted Amazon, and I named him Boo, because it was October and close to Halloween.

Boo had a large iron cage. I think it was metal, very large, sturdy, and about six feet tall. I kept this in my room, despite the fact that Boo, like me, pretty much had the run of the house whenever he wanted. The information will become relevant later in the story. As I ran into the room, I slammed the door shut and locked it. However, the lock was simply one of those little turn knobs that you can easily pop with the butter knife. I had barely gotten the door shut and locked it when the person on the other side knocked. I have no idea why they knocked. If they did it to mock me or scare me, but I knew in my heart

that my little lock was not going to keep whoever it was on the other side of that door out of my room. It didn't keep my mother out when we were arguing, and it wouldn't stand to a brute force. I was panicking, and on the verge of tears when the person started laughing. It was low and quiet, and because of that, it was even more frightening. It wasn't like a manic laughter, but as if they were genuinely amused. It was the laughter that really frightened me. And I started heavily and hysterically crying and looking around my room trying to figure out what I could do. That's when I realized Boo's cage would almost fit perfectly between the door and the wall

of the closet. The cage moved quietly on the carpet floor, but as I pushed it into place, it scraped against the door and alerted whoever was on the other side that I was trying to barricade myself in. Because suddenly they threw themselves at the door, and you could hear the sound of the woods splintering, and the door handled being twisted violently. Boo, who had been stirred by the movement awake, began literally screaming and flapping his wings. I might have screamed with him, but honestly, I don't remember screaming. I just remember being extremely scared.

Honestly, I don't remember screaming. I just remember being extremely scared. Terrified, I crawled under my bed, a bunk bed with a futon on the bottom, which was metal. I waited there. Several minutes passed by, and the person eventually stopped attacking my door. Boo continued screaming even after he had stopped. Though being under my bed gave me no feeling of being secure, I didn't come out from under it because I simply had nowhere else to go.

I thought about trying to go out the window, but I was afraid that he might expect it, and therefore be waiting for me on the other side. And it was several feet off the ground, as the house was built on a raised foundation. I remember laying under that bed terrified for what felt like hours. I must have fallen asleep because I awoke the next morning to daylight. The fear of what happened came back to me as soon as I registered where I was, and scared that whoever had been in my house might still be there. I decided to crawl out the window and run to a neighbor since it was daylight outside,

and therefore I felt less afraid. Crawling out of the window was a lot harder than it may seem, and I did it less than gracefully as I was not, and still am not the most coordinated human being. Once I was back on my feet, however, I carefully made my way around the house. And that's when I noticed that the back door was wide open.

Scared, but feeling braver now that I was outside and that it was morning instead of pitch black, I walked up to the back steps and peered inside. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, like no terrifying, leering man, I had decided to go back inside. Looking back now, I cringed on how stupid this could have turned out, and that I wish I could have told my younger self to make the smarter move and just go get help, but thankfully, no one was in the house. I did a terrifying heart-pounding room to room check,

looking in closets under beds behind the couch, anywhere I thought even a small child might be able to fit. I even popped the lock off of my mom's bedroom so that I could check it and then reluctant afterwards. When I was positive that there was no one there, I went back to lock the back door. I had left it open in case I needed to escape.

That's when I noticed that the breaker box on the opposite wall was open. The main switch had been pulled. I flipped it back on, locked both doors and the back door, checked all of the windows and front door and then called my mom, where I once again broke down crying hysterically. She called a coworker who came and stayed

the entire day with me as they drove back. My mom still took random trips to Florida after that, but I always went with her from then on. So terrifying, laughing crazy person that broke into my house on New Year's Eve, please let's never meet again. I sincerely hope no other young girl had to meet you either. I don't know if you were just some drunk visitor, maybe a neighbor, but you terrorized me that

night. I was afraid of being alone when my mom was working. And to this day, I still get scared when I'm home alone. I overthink what I would do if someone came inside and where I would hide. When my cats make noises out of nowhere, I immediately investigate for fear. It's someone trying to get in. Oh, by the way, my mom had to help lift me back into my bedroom window so that I could move booze cage out of the corner between my bedroom door and the closet.

We never had another incident at that house, and we moved in town to an apartment a year later. Thanks for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. This week you have heard? Creepy Cousin by Reddit user Desiree Lou 13. Random Tuesday in October by Reddit user Reverser. And finally, New Year's Eve 1999 by a Redditor that asked to remain anonymous. If you have stories you'd like to hear on the podcast, you can always email them to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com and for any questions or enquiries, email me at Let's

Not Meet Podcast at gmail.com. And as always, if you'd like to gain access to all the bonus content, check out patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet Podcast. I'll see you guys next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. 1 tbc 1 tbc 1 tbc 1 tbc 1 tbc 1 tbc 1 tbc

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