Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 6x12: The 100 Year Old Basement - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: June 21, 2021

Stories in this episode: -The 100 Year Old Basement - Susan (0:56). -Untitled - Angie123 (5:20). -Untitled - Amrutha (9:22). -Creepy Stranger In The Darkness -  Jane from Colorado (17:15). -Tex - Susan (23:49). -Untitled - Alba (34:10). -Dating Site and a Police Officer -  Michelle  (44:47). Extended Patreon Content: -Almost Break-In - Ella. -Creepy Neighbor - Phoebe. -Almost Abducted - Emily.  -My Boyfriend's Side Chick - JustCallMeMaria. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To submit your story to the show, send it to [e-mail]. Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week 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! Bombas is a comfort focused sock and apparel brand with a mission to help those in need. One purchased = one donated, always and forever. I love these guys! Go to Bombas.com/meet today, and get 20% off your first order.  If you’re ready for a streaming service that offers new stories, new characters, and breathtaking scenerios every week, do what I did and get Acorn TV! Try Acorn TV free for 30 days, by going to Acorn.tv and use my promo code meet (all lowercase). Try EveryPlate for just $1.99 per meal plus an additional 20% off your next 2 boxes by going to EveryPlate.com and entering code meet199. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/retroxpizza/

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The stories in this show can be frightening and disturbing for some. Listener discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. My name is Andrew Tate and this is season six episode 12 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. This took place in an extremely old college town. The college is considered a world heritage site. And because of that, students live in some very old houses around campus. My boyfriend

at the time was living in a shared house with three other students. The house had been built in 1908 and had definitely seen better days. It was a creaky, dusty, three-story home with bedrooms upstairs, a living room and kitchen on the first floor, and finally, a concrete basement that acted as the laundry room. The basement was not a place that I liked to go. It had very horror movie vibes. It was dirty, dark. There was random junk strewn about, and worst of all, these huge cockroaches or cricket things that were quite aggressive. We explored the basement when we first moved in and found a door leading

to the outside. It had been nailed shut from the inside so that it would stay shut, which I found disconcerting. The weather and time had caused a shitty repair to the aging wooden door to expand and warp, so it was no longer really just shut, kind of nailed in place, which explained the bugs and dirt. We really didn't think too much of it. Just felt that it was gross, and we should probably complain to the landlord. A month or so later, my boyfriend and I were home alone one evening. We had finished cooking dinner, and we were heading upstairs in the dark. But that night, I had a creepy feeling while leaving the kitchen.

The door to the basement was in the kitchen, and I thought I had heard something coming from downstairs, but I just assumed maybe it was one of the roommates doing laundry. I ignored it. Late that night after we had gone to bed, I heard some faint sounds in the kitchen. Now this was an old house, so creeks were pretty normal, and it wasn't unusual for one of the roommates to be downstairs, but these sounds were strange. Like it was someone who just didn't know what they were doing. We decided not to check it out. It was probably the stoner roommate trying to sneak a late-night snack. Later I heard someone walk quietly past

our door, without the hall light on, and then nothing else. In the morning, though, we realized that none of the roommates were home and had not been all night. We got downstairs to the kitchen, and we saw the door to the basement was wide open, which is not something that ever happens. My boyfriend crept down the basement stairs and discovered that the previously nailed shut door had been forced open. There was a sleeping bag on the floor in the corner, and more trash than we had previously seen. Apparently, someone had broken in and spent the night and had

been walking around the house in the dark while we slept. Who knows how long they had been down there. They could have been down there the entire afternoon and evening listening to my boyfriend and I as we chatted and cooked. So the basement door got nailed shut again, and luckily nothing bad happened. But I never slept very well in that house ever again, and I never went into that basement. I still have issues with basements. I still think that if I go down into one someone, might already be down there, watching me from the shadows. To the vagrant who stalked around our house that night, thank you for not doing worse, but let's not meet. I was walking home after hanging out in the afternoon with some friends.

They had left for home and I was on my own. It's half an hour walk back home with a trail shortcut. I was walking through the trail when I felt like somebody was watching me. I was a 15 year old female and I was always paranoid due to stories that my mom told me about kidnappings and such. So at first, I didn't really think too much of it, telling myself that it was just a figment of my imagination. This happened often, but this time it was real, I was actually being watched, every rustle of a bush, every crack of dirt, set me on edge. But I had yet to see anything but bunnies and squirrels. It wasn't

until I was halfway home that my stalker finally came out. It was two men dressed exactly the same, with the same long raven black hair, poorly hidden under gray caps. I don't remember the color of their jeans or pants that they wore, but they wore gray hoodies, the same color as their caps. Their faces were starkly different, though, despite having the same height and body build. At first, I thought they were part of some mafia or gang because those were present in the area.

Maybe they were. I might never know. One stood behind me and the other stood in front of me. I thought I was hallucinating at first because they stood so still. So I continued to walk hoping that they would just go away, but they never did. When I came up to the first one, I expected him to disappear or move out of the way or something, but not just stand there. Then he touched my shoulder, but he never looked at me.

He looked right over my shoulder at his partner. I panicked, and so I kicked his shin, but I was weak, and I had never done any kind of martial arts training of any kind. My kick had zero effect on him. I went to bring up my phone in call 911 or my mom, but he squeezed my shoulder and said, don't try. I then realized he probably had a gun or something hidden somewhere, and I couldn't stand a fight against two well-built men.

So I just stood there. I started to cry. I don't remember much of the next events, but I remember the guy who was touching me inappropriately, said something along the lines of, she'll do good to his partner. Then he walked away with his partner and they left me. I turned back to watch them leave and what scared me the most was their walk. It gave me chills. Exactly the same gate for gate, step by step, stride by stride, perfectly side by side. I don't remember saying anything or doing anything besides sobbing.

I was shocked and afraid. Tears were straining down my face. Five years later, I have yet to see them again. But now I always ride home and I avoid that trail with my life. I still get chills thinking about it and my mom has yet to believe me. And to be honest, she kind of has a reason not to because I'm so paranoid that I might have made it up, but I didn't.

So to the guys and the Grey Hoodies and caps, let's not meat. My name is Amritha. I have a story to share with you all. It was summer, the year before I moved on to seventh grade. This was a big deal, because in our small town, we had an intermediate school where the fifth or sixth graders went to. The middle school is for seventh and eighth graders, so I was officially going to middle school that year.

My mom was very into fitness at the time, so we went on walks outside of our neighborhood around 7am. We always listened to music, which got very annoying with my mom because she couldn't hear anything else. For context, I'm Indian, and I have medium dark skin and long black hair. I was 5'4", something like that at the time. I had broken my hand so I was wearing a gangly black cast. These are some of the main details you'll need to know for the story to make sense. My mom and I were walking a block away from our house, listening to music just like always. We were walking past this one house that had a huge trailer van when a man came out of the home.

He started yelling, excuse me, excuse me. I quickly took off my headphones while my mom was still walking unaware. I noticed the man, and he came up a little closer to me and said, does your hand hurt, sweetie? Me being the polite young girl, I replied. Nope, not anymore, sir. I have to catch up to my mom now. I said this while, trying to politely leave.

God bless you, sweetie. Wow, you have such gorgeous hair, he said while stroking my hair and running his fingers along my back. I shivered and pulled away. This itself could be a creepy story alone, but it was just the beginning. I ran to my mom and walked alongside her. After we walked for a couple of minutes and out of view from the house, I explained what happened to my mother. She took it lightly and said to ignore those weird creepos. I was still nervous about all of this, so for the next couple of days I had convinced my mom that we should take another route or quit the walk completely.

After a week I forgot about this, and it was the last thing I would think about every day. We started walking on the path that I had first seen that man. Now walking past that man's house, I heard a loud tapping on a window. I looked at the house and saw a shadowy figure staring back at me. He opened the window and yelled some racist slurs at me. I was so confused by the sudden change of behavior from the man who had been creepily kind to me. Now he's yelling racist slurs at me. What the fuck? Fortunately, my mom heard this commotion and ran towards me, and then wrapped her arm around

my shoulder. I was so scared and suffered my first of many anxiety attacks. We stopped walking that route, and my mom informed my dad and brother about this and told them to avoid that whole street completely. Eventually, things went back to normal and our family considered this story as one to laugh back on. We were so wrong. Now my bedroom window faced the backyard, which was relatively huge. I started noticing footprints in the dirt. Heavy footprints. The grass had been stepped on and bent, if that makes any sense. I was constantly scared

and nervous. Waiting for the day that the person standing in my backyard would break in. I told my parents and they took it very seriously. They bought cameras and set them up all around the house. The next day, we watched the footage to see a grown man jumping the fence into our backyard and, pleasuring himself, right beneath my window. One important detail I failed to mention before was that, and this is very embarrassing. I used to never close my blinds in my room. And since we had no neighbors right next to us or behind us, I used to leave the blinds open in my room while I did anything, even changing my clothes.

There's a chance that this man had seen me change and was staring into my window. It was so scared for my life that I broke down crying as we watched the footage. My parents consoled me and we called the cops right away. They came and discussed with my parents and me about how we were going to catch him. They decided to have an unmarked vehicle with two officers inside in front of our home. Later that night, the man showed up yet again. But he got ambushed by the police officers. It turns out this man was the same one who had talked to me on my walk. The man went to prison, and my family soon moved away. Thankfully, nothing

physically damaging happened to me, but this affected me mentally, making me suffer with depression and severe anxiety. A creepy old man who made me feel unsafe and scared in my own home. Let's never meet again. Don't let the summer heat bake in road grime any longer, hand to your nearby Zips Car Wash to clean up and cool off. And listen to this, now when you buy your next car wash online at zipscarwash.com, you pay even less. That's right, we save you money off our amazing washes plus you also get to skip the line and use our Express Lane service.

When you're ready to shine, skip the line and save time and money with your online wash code. Find your nearest location at zipscarwash.com. Then drive and shine today. Don't let the summer heat bake in, road-grime any longer, hand to your nearby Zips Car Wash to clean up and cool off.

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skip the line and save time and money with your online wash code. Find your nearest location at zipscarwash.com then drive and shine today. This was a few years back and it's something that I think of every single day. At the time, we had two dogs, an older grumpy mini-awsy bow, and a friendly wild and young black lab, Willow. I take my kids out for a walk every single day, before work early. The time that I walk them is usually between 4 and 5 am, so during late fall and Colorado, it's pitch black. I'm well equipped with lights on my dog's harnesses, and I always wear my headlamp. Now I walk my dog's off leash,

I know, I know, but we do go very early to avoid others. It's impossible to get a young lab fully exercised when my older Aussie can't keep up. This allows for running, playing, exploring, all under my voice command, at their preferred speed. My husband has left town to go hunting, but I walk my dogs daily, without him. We leave our house and walk down towards the neighborhood that, in the 2008 recession, was partially built before the builder lost all funds, and it was abandoned. There are about 6-12 completed homes.

The rest is open land, but then infrastructure is still there ready for the neighborhood to be built, the walking path, the street lights, etc. I'm cautious on my walks, no noise so I can make sure I hear anyone coming, and I make sure that I have my dogs close. As we round a corner on the path and one dog is doing his duty. Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. To my right, a man in all black with his head and face covered. He's running, but he's not jogging. He's running full speed in my direction.

Thinking quick, I look down to ensure that my dogs are close. As I look back up, he's gone. I'm staring into the trees when I see him looking out from where he's hiding behind a group of pine trees. I said, no, not fully convinced he can be trusted. This path is always empty, very little homes, and it's so early. It's rare we see anyone. I've stepped to the side with both dogs so that he can pass, but he stays hiding in the trees. At this point, Bo is barking his head off. He doesn't care for strangers close to his mom. Good or bad intentions.

But more concerning, my young lab willow, who loves everyone, has a full mohawk in teeth bare growling. My stomach sinks. All I can think of is, I need to keep him in front of us. And I need to hang onto these dogs tight. We stand there, no words exchanged, for what felt like minutes. Finally, he comes out of the trees, runs across the street to the other side of the road. I'll remind you, this isn't an early morning jogger. He has dark pants, a full hoodie with the hood up, and his face is masked. As he walks away on the other side of the street, one lone street

light illuminates his shape. He's carrying a baseball bat. I honestly just stand there and disbelief. I watch him fully walk away so that I know my retreat is somewhat safe. I call our non-emergency police number to let them know the story. She says that someone will be sent out. My day continues. I don't tell my out of town husband, knowing that he'll make an early trip home. But for what? I'm okay. I feel safe. A couple of days pass. My daily walks continue after my mom strictly warns me about people noticing or habited walks. So I let her know when I'm walking and when I'm home. We're out on another early walk before work. Obviously, I'm still un still on high alert. When I see a shadow

walking in the distance. Fuck, I pull my dogs close, and I kneel next to them. The lights are off. He's across the street from where I am. I'm sure he has seen us, but he doesn't stop. The one streetlight illuminates his shadow yet again, and this time he is carrying a very long and shiny sword. He stops, turns and looks in my direction, and turns back and continues to walk. I haven't been able to rationalize his movements and behavior. Every rational thing that comes to mind is quickly dismissed by the other weird behavior.

I can't make sense of it. It's hard as I try. Unthankful to know in that I had my dogs with me and that I walk them off leash, regardless of people's feelings on that issue. Since this story, my boy Bo is earned his angel wings, and my world just isn't the same. He was truly my protector, but Willow, my black lab, and our new mini-awcy juniper, continue to enjoy daily walks on the same loop, but lunatic free so far. And Willow has filled the protector role for her brother when needed, but mostly from

delivery people. Oh, and I did tell my husband when he got home. He wasn't happy that I didn't tell him sooner, but I am now fully equipped to carry a handgun and coyote horn on all of my future adventures. So baseball bat, sword wielding psychopath, please don't start making appearances again and for the love of God. Let's not meet. Hi, my name is Susan, and I'm an artist living in the Midwest. But back in the early 2000s, I was in my early 20s and working as a waitress at a fun restaurant

known for its crabs, unique decor, tie dye, and dancing servers. I loved my crew, we were all similar in age, some were students, some aspiring musicians, and we all got along really well. We were like brothers and sisters. After work, it was common for the closing crew to head over to the local Irish pub to unwind after work. Most of the local servers from the restaurants around town would end up there after their shifts, so it was definite that you would come across at least a friend or two every time

you went. One particular night, we were all sitting at a few tables that we had pushed together, having some drinks and some laughs and talking about our day. I noticed a quiet guy and a cowboy hat sitting near me. He wasn't really talking so I said hi and made some small talk. It wasn't uncommon for friends of friends to join us on our nights out, and I've always been social, and I didn't want anyone to ever feel left out. He said he went by the name of Tex. It was a fun night, as usual with everyone, but it had been

a long night, so after some light chit-chat and joking with friends, I headed home. The next day when I came in for my opening shift, those of us that had been out were reminiscing about the night, and I had mentioned text and asked whose friend he was. It turns out nobody knew him. Everyone thought he was a friend of someone else in our group, and since we were all being polite and talking to him, it made sense, but not a single one of us actually knew him. He had wandered up and joined our table. The next time we went out, he was there. And I said a polite hello.

And when he said hi, I tried to keep a healthy distance. I was just there to visit some friends. He tried to come up and chat a couple of times. Again, I was polite, but quite clear that I wasn't interested. I stuck around my buddies, and we made it a short night and headed home. Now I had the next few days off, and I was looking forward to some much-needed arondar. A few days later, when I arrived from my shift, I was checking in with the hostess, and she told me that some guy named Tex came in looking for me. He asked about my schedule, but the girls know they aren't allowed to give out that information.

The following day, he came back in and just sat for an entire shift, waiting for me to come in. It hit me. Of course, he knows where I work. We all keep our work shirts on when we head over to the bar after our shift. I let the crew know and everyone was on high alert to keep an eye out for the creepy cowboy. A few days passed and my friend and I had had a rough shift. Some of us pulling doubles. We decided that we needed some music and debauchery at our local watering

hall. I felt safe going there because I knew everyone there, and I'm going with my friends from work, and many of our guys can definitely hold their own, and we're all protective of each other. Well, after a couple of beers low and behold, guess who strolls in? It's Mr. Tex himself. My friends create that buddy barrier wall around me, and wherever he approaches, he is informed. Look pal, she's not interested, just keep moving. There are two sides to the bar, and for the most part,

he stays on one side with us on the other. So out of sight, out of mind, we all had a nice time, but it had been snowing, and it was getting late, so we all wanted to get home before the roads got too bad since winter had been rough this year. Everyone heads out to warm up their cars. We noticed that Tex was nowhere to be seen. He must have already left. The boys make sure to escort me to my car safely and make sure that I was okay. I thanked them and let them know that I was fine. I would lock the doors, but I was just going to let the car warm up a bit before I started to drive back. But that they could go ahead and head home. Okay, keep in mind this is the early 2000s, so I didn't have a cell phone or anything, and at this point, I'm just listening to the radio and waiting for the car to get cozy.

When I noticed, a car on the opposite side of the parking lot sitting with its lights on. We were the only cars left. I try not to panic. It could be anyone, but I had a bad feeling in my stomach. I noticed the car start to move and move across the parking lot towards me. There is no reason to drive towards me. The exit is the other way. This car picks up a bit of speed and turns directly towards my car, T-boning me in the driver's side.

What the fuck? I'm stunned! I look up at the driver and it's text. What the fuck man? He didn't hit me hard enough for it to be considered an accident, but hard enough to get my attention. I roll down the window and say, what the fuck man? He's straight-faced and as calm as can be. He says flatly, just to get out of the car so we can talk about it. I say, what the hell you hit me? He says in that monotone voice, just get out of the car so we can talk. I'm not an idiot. My mom raised me on unsolved mysteries in Dateline, I know where this could go. I

am alone with this man in an empty parking lot after hours nothing good could come of me getting out of my car. So I hit the gas and I get out of there. My car is fast and zippy and I know all the side roads around the area, so luckily I was able to get away from him. The next day, I called my work and let them know what happened and to make sure that he doesn't come near the restaurant. When I showed up from my shift, I went to the kitchen to talk to my guy friends that I had been out with that night to tell them what happened. I was still really shook up, but everyone was floored, needless to say, I had zero desire

to go out after work for a while or go anywhere for that matter. A few days later, one of my male co-workers came up to inform me that texts won't be bothering me anymore. When I tried to press him for more info, all he would tell me was that he wouldn't be bothering me anymore. I don't condone violence, and for all I know, they just put the fear of God in him. One of the boys that I work with is a wall of a man, and I'm sure he can be insanely intimidating

when he wants to be, but he's always been a teddy bear to me, regardless. Whatever they did worked. And I never saw the creepy cowboy again. I still shudder to think what would have happened if I had stepped out of that car that cold winter night. So to the guy simply known as Tex. Let's not meet again. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment

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Live like a gigillionaire with AT&T fiber. Limited availability in select areas. Visit AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details. This happened six years ago when I was a freshman student in college. To give you a little bit of background of the place where I come from, we attend college pretty early. Most of us attend at 16 years old, and I know some who attended when they were barely 15. Aside from the fact that I was young, naive, and female, I decided to move into a new city, even if my parents warned me that that was not exactly

the safest place to be. But I stuck to my choice because the university there has one of the best pharmacy programs in the country. My regular class schedule was from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. and I always make sure to write public transportation and going home because it was safer than riding taxis. However, on that particular night, we stayed in school a little bit later than seven because of a project we had to finish. By the time we ended, my classmate and I were so tired that we refused to walk two more blocks to where the public transportation station was. And we thought to ourselves that it was more convenient to just hail a taxi in front of the

school gate. Besides, there were two of us, so we felt safe. Starting that year, the local government required every taxi to have a working light inside the vehicle that will illuminate the taxi from the outside, even if the taxi is running. The light must be bright enough for people outside to see and be alerted if something bad is happening. This was implemented because of the increasing crime rate involving taxi passengers and drivers. After a few minutes, we finally managed to get a taxi, and the driver was a man in his mid-20s.

The first thing I noticed when I opened the door was that the inside was dark, and the light was yanked from its proper place, so that the lights, small cords, were hanging from the ceiling. When the driver saw me look at him, and the light, he hurriedly said, the light is broken, so if you want to get another taxi, just shut the door. My classmate and I looked at each other for a second, and then he spoke again, annoyed this time. Let me know if you're coming or not besides it's late, and I can

tell you there are no more taxis coming this way. Tired as we were, we agreed with him that it was getting too late and that it was harder to hail a taxi. We told him our address and we went off. The place where we used to stay was a five minute drive from school. It was located in a well-known area where about 70% of the students from the university have their apartments or dormitories. It was so popular that taxis all over the city knew it right away and they used the same route every single time. My classmate and I, we were so tired that we just took our seats and went silent. I leaned on my window, wishing to get home and rest. A few minutes had passed, and all of a sudden, I realized we just passed the turn to get

to the usual route. I looked at my classmate. She wasn't alarmed by this fact, and I just decided to take a nap and thought to myself maybe the guy knew a shortcut. A few more minutes had gone by and I felt my classmate touch my hand. She whispered to me, where are we? I looked outside my window and we were on a dark road. I had never seen or been to this road before.

No lamp posts, no houses, and no buildings. Also, no cars. It was pitch black. The only lights we could see were coming from the taxi's headlights. At this point I squinted my eyes to try and make out anything in my surroundings. I was able to make out some lines and lines of trees. Trees, I said to myself. There aren't trees like this anywhere near our place, not this many. I felt my heart drop and I suddenly got goosebumps. I looked at my classmate and

I knew she was feeling the same way. As nervous as I was, I asked the driver, excuse me, can you tell us what road this is? He didn't reply. I asked him again, loudly, excuse me, what road is this? I caught his eye in the rearview mirror, but he stayed quiet. I heard the car drive faster. We started to panic. Then my classmate raised her voice and said, can you stop the taxi we would like to go

now? Then I repeated, please pull aside, let us out. The driver kept looking forward, pretending not to hear us. The car is now at full speed. We're both shaking at this point. My classmate leaned over to me. We got so desperate that we made up our minds to open the car door and jump. In my mind, I keep thinking, we can't die.

We can't die. I swear my hands were ready on that handle, and I had my classmates hand in the other. Then I hear a phone ringing and vibrating. We followed the sound with our eyes and stopped at her purse. It was her dad. I forgot we even had phones. She picked it up instantly. Give me your phone now, she said.

She turned on the flashlight and started to point it at different directions as if she were looking for something. Then she had her finger at the door, reciting a bunch of numbers and a license plate number. After that, she was describing the entire scene, the color of the driver's hair, what he was wearing, how the taxi looked from the inside and everything that stood out. The taxi slowed down. I looked at the driver and I saw him listening. Then I felt that he was starting to panic, as he was getting fidgety and uneasy.

He began to try and start conversation. He was making a bunch of excuses why we took a different route. He said someone told him that there was an accident on the usual route, that he knew a shortcut, and that he thought we were from a different address. He went on and on until I realized he took a turn and we entered the usual route. In less than five minutes, we were in front of our building. We got out and the moment that we shut the door he drove off. He didn't say he was sorry and he didn't even take our money for the ride.

We ran as fast as we could. We checked the time and figured it took us more than 30 minutes to get to our place. The moment we got inside we we sat on the floor, and both cried. I told her that we could have died if their dad didn't call, and she began telling me why her dad called. According to her, her dad calls her every night at the same time to check up on her. Her dad told her that the moment she picked up, he could tell something wasn't right. When he found out that we moment she picked up, he could tell something wasn't right. When he found out that we were in a taxi, he immediately instructed her to look for the

taxi's plate number and the taxi's operator number. Her dad told her that it was usually painted on every taxi's door in the city. In the morning, my dad came as well, and we all went to the police and gave them the plate number and the number that we found inside the taxi. We called the operator of the taxi, and he came. The operator called the taxi driver, but it wasn't the same person. The original driver of that taxi then told us that he was out of town, and he let his nephew drive the taxi for him.

What's even creepier was the fact that he told us that as our driver went home to their house, he told him that he was going out of town that same night. It took me a while before I could set foot in a taxi again. It got so bad that I had nightmares about it and so did my classmate. Ever since I always make sure to text my dad the plate number and operator number of any taxi I use. So creepy taxi driver, let's never meet again. Lots of things can make your workouts hard. Extra resistance, double speed, just one more mile, just getting to the gym for me is a

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Now back to the show. I just discovered this podcast and realized I have a story in which all my loved ones have always said could be a lifetime movie. About one and a half years ago, my friend thought it would be a bright idea to create a profile on a dating site for me, as I am a homebody, and I am not great at speaking to other humans. The catch is, I never agreed for her to enroll me in a dating site, nor did I even know. She linked my social media to it so potential suitors may reach out to me. I started receiving, and I'm not even joking, 30 messages a day, and I realized what was

happening when they would write something along the lines of, hey, I saw your dating profile. Immediately I was enraged. I would never, ever saw your dating profile. Immediately I was enraged. I would never, ever create a dating profile. Not that there's anything wrong with it. It's just not my cup of coffee. I told her to please remove it. However, the damage was done. And neither her nor I knew what that little gesture had created. At the time, I lived alone in an apartment with my dogs. Now days passed, and the waters seemed calm. One night, at around 8 p.m., I received a knock at my

door. I was stunned and didn't answer, as I was not expecting anyone, and I knew family and friends would have called prior to showing up at my doorstep. My kitchen window was left open, so I had to be careful not to be seen while checking the people. I crawled, I know, it's hilarious, on the floor to check the people, and a man stood proud and tall with flowers. For some reason, I thought he was at the wrong apartment door, so I calmly said through the door. Can I help you? He then replied. Michelle, is that you? My heart dropped. I didn't know what to do.

Fear came over me. I Didn't respond and for some reason called my mother instantly. He continued to knock and my mother suggested I called the police. So like Mama said, I did. Unfortunately by the time they arrived, about a half hour later, he was gone. We contacted my apartment building and they stated oddly, the camera facing my door hadn't been working for a few days now. All that was left to do was file a report and purchase a ring door camera. My friend who was a pretty aggressive looking man would accompany me in my evenings to walk my dog as I told him my story and he lived close by. We were gym buddies.

I was getting ready for bed when I hear a loud banging on my door. I check my ring app and someone is covering the camera. I instantly call the police and they arrive surprisingly fast, so fast that they caught him. The operator over the phone instructed me not to open the door and to allow the police to handle it. Now this is where it gets worse. I hear from outside my door.

Danny, oh my God, my brother, it's been a long time no see. The cop knew this man. I remember even telling the operator and she remained quiet. This so-called Danny told the police that we knew each other and we were in a fight, so I was being dramatic. I opened the door, ignoring the operator, and showed my face and stated that I had no clue who he was, and if this continued I would file a restraining order. The cop chuckled and stated, Danny's gonna leave you alone, don't worry. He then walked this guy down to his car while they chatted and shared a few laughs. My instantly called my mom, as I felt as if I were losing my mind, 9-1-1 was on this creep's side.

I locked my door and grabbed my rifle, then loaded it near my bed. At this point I thought, okay, it's time to be my own police. A week passed, which was nice, thinking that this odd occurrence had just disappeared. But no, it only got worse. I received a picture on my doorstep when I was walking my dogs. It was a picture of me that I had on social media with my dog, and I didn't even notice that my dogs collar had my address, and you could clearly read it. It's like he was trying to say, this is how I found you. I asked my friend, which picture she shared on the profile and one of them was this one. My heart sank.

I ran back in. I don't know who to call. The police know this guy, so I called my gym friend, and he told me to possibly stay at my parents for a bit and lay low, so I did, which I thought was healing the stalker's crave to contact me. I remember I was laying on my mom's couch, going through messages on Instagram that I have not accepted yet, and I see a Danny.

I quickly click it open, and I saw that there were at least 10 messages per day saying, we were meant to meet. I was meant to find you. I click on his profile and, shit, Danny is a fucking cop. I was meant to find you. I click on his profile and shit. Danny is a fucking cop. He's a fucking cop. I screamed and told my parents.

They stated he probably won't try anything since he hasn't approached my apartment for my ring app. Two weeks later, I went back home as I was also preparing to move out, luckily. I can't get this image out of my head. I get a ring notification, and when I look at it, it's Danny. He's placed his face extremely close to the camera. It was possibly the scariest thing that I have ever seen. I called the police instantly, blanking out on the fact that he was part of the force. I then explained to the operator that the man at my door had been stalking me.

Luckily, three police officers that were dispatched didn't know who this so-called Danny was. They were firm in saying that if he didn't leave, they would take him in. It's officially a year since this incident, and I've moved. I've not heard from him. However, last week, at 12.50 pm, someone was pounding on my door. And God, I hope I don't have to continue this story. If you are a Patreon subscriber, don't forget to stick around after the music and the outro for your extended episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast. Thank you for listening.

This week you have heard the 100-year-old basement by Susan, a story by listener Angie 1, 2, 3. A story by listener Amruthha. Creepy Stranger in the Darkness by Jane from Colorado. Text by Susan. A story by a listener named Alba. And finally, a story by a listener Michelle. 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. As always, if you want to send me a story, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. And if you want to get access to that extended Patreon only section of this episode, head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet Podcast to support the show today. This show is not possible without all of the wonderful patrons. Thank you so much for your support. I'll see you all next week for some more terrifying stories on Let's Not Meet, A True One creepy neighbor, a boyfriend's obsessive side check.

And a near-abduction all coming up on this extended episode of Let's Know. AT&T 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 AT&T Fiber.

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