Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 6x15: Midnight Man - Let's Not Meet (Feat. Heather Ashley)

Episode Date: July 12, 2021

Stories in this episode:  -Untitled - Catie (1:16).  -Untitled - Katie  Cominsky (9:11).  -I Was Almost Kidnapped - Lawless Haaoli (19:06).  -Kidnapped and Carjacked - E (32:08).  -Brush With Death - Jess Jorgenson (40:07).  -Midnight Man - Adam Beacker (50:24).  Extended Patreon Content:  -Almost Murdered On My Wedding Night - Alive and Well.  -I Figured Out Where You Live - Din.  -An Unmasked Man Almost Took My Life - bforbriauna.  -Robbed While Sleeping - FalGal.  -Untitled - That Bitch From St. Raymond.  Check out Heather Ashley's podcast Big Mad True Crime on Apple, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts! 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!  Go to dailyharvest.com and enter promo code meet to get $40 off your first box! Raycon is offering 15% off all their products for my listeners at BuyRaycon.com/meet. Make the switch to PrettyLitter TODAY! Get 20% off your first order by visiting Prettylitter.com and use promo code meet. - 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/andrewtatelive  

You know it, your wife knows it, your friends know it. Yep, there's no getting away from the fact that there's an outdoor kitchen shaped hole in your life. And it's time to put things right. Thankfully, bull outdoor products are ready with everything you need to create a world-class outdoor cooking space. Bull outdoor kitchens and accessories add value to your property and extra fun to your world. If you're gonna do it, do it right. Turn a bull loosen your backyard. BullBBQ.com to 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 is returning friend of the show, Heather Ashley of the podcast Big

Mad True Crime. Check it out wherever you get your podcasts. Enjoy the show. This is something that happened to my mother that I only learned of a couple of years ago. For reference, I'm 20 years old now, the same age she was when this happened. And after hearing what happened to her, I'm shocked and amazed by how, quote unquote, normal for lack of a better term and level headed she is today, over 40 years later. It was August, sometime during the 70s. My mom was attending college in Manhattan, and had just started dating this guy who I'll call Ryan. He was one of her older brother's friends. They were hanging out at his apartment one day, sitting on the couch when there was a knock at the door. Now, due to the way that the couch was oriented, it was against the wall, and how the door swung open clockwise and inward,

my mom's view of the doorway and the visitor was obstructed by the open door. view of the doorway and the visitor was obstructed by the open door. So she was only able to see Ryan standing, facing the doorway. Something felt off to her about this happening. She saw Ryan stepping backwards, and the end of a gun emerging past the door, followed by a man and a hat. He yelled, give me the money. Like it was some kind of cliché crime TV show. Except, it very much wasn't. The man seemed to be so focused on Ryan, he didn't even notice my mother sitting off to the side. Perhaps this was why he wasn't wearing any sort of mask or something to conceal his identity. Before Ryan even had a chance to say anything and reply, the man fired a shot right into his chest. It was only then that he turned and realized there was someone

else in the room. My mom froze, shaking, and put her hands up in submission. He pointed the gun towards her, aimed square at her face, and instructed her to go over to Ryan, who was now on the floor bleeding. He said to go with him into the bathroom. She was a young, small-ish, twenty-year-old woman while he was a pretty buff-in-tall guy, so she had to use all her might to drape him over her arm and neck and drag his weakened body across the apartment and into the bathroom. The man held his gun pointed at her as she moved through the room. As soon as she made it into the bathroom, the man closed and locked

the door, or barricaded it. Ryan slumped onto the floor of the tiny bathroom, causing his body to press against the door tightly. This door also had hinges that opened inward, so even if they were able to unlock the door, it was now blocked by Ryan's own weight. On the other side of the door, the man fled the scene, leaving my mother alone with Ryan. I should mention that this was a basement apartment. There were metal bars on all the windows, so my mom couldn't even find a way out through one, nor could anyone, from the outside outside use one to come inside and help. And because Ryan was shot in the chest and was bleeding profusely, he was unconscious.

She tried to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, but it was with little luck. Of course this was before cell phones, so the only way she was able to call for help was with her own voice. She was crying and yelling for help while ferociously yanking and rattling on the door knob. She started pounding on the door and tearing at the edges and hinges. She was beating the door so hard that her hands were bloodied and cut. After some time, someone must have heard the cries for help and called the police. But when they arrived at the front door, which had a police door bar that locks automatically

from the inside when the door shut, well, it was barred from when the man had fled the apartment. Hours later, with help from a battering ram and emergency services, they were finally able to get my mom and Ryan out by breaking the doors down. Sadly because of the location of his wound and how long it took for help to arrive, Ryan had died before they even made it out of the bathroom. They brought my mom to the station, shaken up, and covered in blood. To her surprise, they initially suspected that she had killed Ryan. Since the door was locked from the inside, they didn't believe that anyone else could have done it. Apparently,

they also found that he had large amounts of weed and the apartment that he sold, which they believed was a business that she was a part of, and was after the money and weed. She was baffled and stunned before this questioning could escalate. Her brother, who knew Ryan and her brother's wife, my aunt Martha, came to the station after my mother called them from there. Martha has always been a spunky, no bullshit kind of lady. She gave the cops hell for accusing my mom, a distraught, young college student looking to go to law school, right off the bat.

Why would she lock herself in the bathroom with Ryan if she killed him? And where was the gun then? And all this just for weed? Let me also add, she is one of those people who still uses the term marijuana unironically and in casual contexts. Upon Martha's wrath and hearing more from my mom about how she actually didn't know Ryan very well, the officers quickly realized their error. They tried to have her identify some of the man's features, but she wasn't able to provide much, especially after they showed her hundreds of mug shots already in the system, and all the faces started to blur together to her.

faces started to blur together to her. Being as busy as Manhattan is, and before most technology and surveillance came about, it is unfortunately no surprise that the man was never caught. My mom was, of course, traumatized for a long time after this. She took a leave of absence from college and went to live with one of her sisters in Wisconsin. Every noise made her jump, and she was constantly paranoid, someone was out to get her, as that man was still roaming free. After some time away from Manhattan to recoup, my mother ended up finishing college and went on to graduate law school. She is now in her 26th year as a sitting criminal court justice, trying to prevent

what happened to her or Ryan from happening to others. She is known by her colleagues as one of the softer judges, but really she is just compassionate and is able to see the person as a whole, both defendants and plaintiffs alike. After what she went through, I find it incredible that she was able to use her experience as a catalyst for her career and goals to actually make change while also maintaining her empathy and authority. My mom is in her 60s now and still says that this was the most scared she had ever been in her life. So from my mother to the man responsible for showing her the greatest kind of fears she'll ever know, let's never meet again. As a teenager, I had a job at a fast food company that put a clear emphasis on remaining

positive and going the extra mile for customers. I'm known for having a big smile on my face most of the time. This has unfortunately gotten me into trouble a few times. Sometimes I smile in sad situations as a way to convey sympathy that comes off completely wrong. Or I smile at men as a courtesy who then believes some type of spark has occurred between us. This story took place about 10 years ago. I was working at the register and my place of employment and an older man came up to order.

For visual reference, think of the main character in the lovely bones. If that means nothing to you, he had wide-rimmed circular glasses, a cackeyeed smile, thinning hair, and a bit of a pot belly. He also seemed to saunter a little when he walked, but not one that stemmed from a disability, rather a creepy gate that came off as out of place. I greeted him as I do every customer and welcomed him with a big smile. He ordered his soul-sauce-biscuit and took a seat. I don't really remember the interaction with him at the register because it was just another customer at that point. At first, I continued my work tending to other customers and stocking as the hours passed by. I glanced over at the

booth that the sausage biscuit man had chosen to sit in and was surprised to see him still sitting there three hours after he originally ordered. He did not have anything in front of him, no phone, no book, nothing to occupy his time, but his eyes were glued to me. It was the first time I even noticed him watching me. I found it odd, but I continued to work. For the next three hours, so now a total of six hours, he stared. His eyes did nothing else but shadow my every move. He watched me with a glaze that bore through me.

I began to become uncomfortable to say the least, realizing now that he was only watching me. This was different than the occasional customer who said flirtatious things to me, as most women and girls can attest to experiencing. His eyes did not leave me. And then he blew me a kiss. I went to the back and told my manager who agreed I could work back there for the rest of my shift. The man grew tired of waiting for me and went to the bathroom. He stayed in there for an hour, and I didn't want to think about what he was doing for that long. He stayed in there for an hour, and I didn't wanna think about what he was doing for that long. He then finally left about eight hours

after his initial entry that morning. He sat in his car for an additional hour. Even though my shift was over, I found more work to do and fear of him following me home. When he did finally leave, I made a male coworker escort me to my car. Shaken up, I called my mom to tell her of my encounter. She furiously asked why I hadn't called sooner so she could have come up there. I told her not to worry and at least it was finally over,

besides what would she have done? The next day, I got ready and headed to work. The sausage biscuit man came back. He repeated his routine from the prior day, staring, blowing kisses, etc. I again had to work in the back because I couldn't handle it. I tried working through it, but his booth was directly across the side entrance of the registers where you can see my entire body. I had to think about how to pick things up without bending over, and it made me uncomfortable to even serve people. Again, my manager allowed me to work in the back, but stated there wasn't much we could do because he was a paying customer and wasn't doing anything in particular. From that shift on, for about the next month or two, Sausage

Biscuit Man came in every shift for me. He would stay for hours in the same booth watching. He blew kisses, escalated to licking his lips. His face never leaving me. This oftentimes was reported to me by co-workers who asked if I'd noticed the creepy man. I tried not to ever look in his direction unless I was stealing a peek to see if he had left. I asked my co-workers if he ever showed up when I wasn't there and nobody could think of a time when he was there and I wasn't. I became paranoid. That means he knew which car was mine and he was able to determine my schedule based on when my car was there.

My manager and I called the cops to report this man. Unfortunately, they couldn't do anything. They actually came in and talked to him which was mortifying because he probably knew it was me. They told us to call in case anything else progressed. At this point, I was working a lot of shifts either in the back or at the drive-through because it was hidden enough to make me feel safe. One day, I was working the drive-through and my co-worker mentioned to me. She looked past my face

out of the window beyond the current car in the line with her mouth a gap. I followed her gaze and saw sausage biscuit man standing on the grassy median right across from the window waving with the creepiest smile I've ever seen. His face seemed to twist into a mangled grimace, contorting between joy and terror, trying to choose which mask he wished to display. He waved and smiled in the same spot for an hour, until I could get someone to take my spot so I could go to the back. I called and told my mom this and she flipped out. She said, I'm on my way right now. I'm thinking, what is this little blonde lady gonna be able to do? My mom got to the restaurant and asked me which car was his.

I told her and she waited outside in her car, just like he did every day for me as I walked out to my car. She watched him eventually go to his car and begin driving away. My mom pulled out behind him. She followed him until he ended up pulling into a nearby library. She pulled up right alongside him and got out of the car and walked up to his window. She mentioned for him to roll down his window and then she laid

into him. She threatened him and said that if he ever looked at me again, she would find him and she would throw him in jail forever. Obviously, this didn't make much sense, but she was intimidating, I'm sure. Moms have this crazy way of going from gentle and sweet to absolutely terrifying. He at first denied it. He said he didn't know what she was talking about. She said the name of the restaurant I worked at and explained how she knew that he'd been harassing her daughter for months now. He smiled ever so slightly. The kind of smile that flickers across

a face to divulge a person's true intentions before choosing a response to emulate. She flipped out and started screaming in his face. She said she would find out his name where he lived, what he did for a living, and would never stop. Whatever she said caused him to immediately shake. He was unable to respond, finally comprehending what she was saying. She returned to her car and called me. She stated, he'll never bother you again. I was confused on how she could possibly be so confident. Let me tell you, I never bother you again. I was confused on how she could possibly be so confident. Let me tell you, I never saw him again. So to the man who stalked me at my job and lived in my nightmares for years to come, who

was eventually run off by my superhero mom, go find your sausage biscuits somewhere else and let's not meet again. Fresh produce is the best produce. That's why at Crogr, we invest in local farmers to bring you the freshest seasonal picks. So no matter how you shop, your local produce always tastes 100% fresh, or you get a 100% refund guaranteed. Kruger, fresh for everyone! Save big on your favorites with the Buy 5 or more Save a Dollar each sale, simply buy

5 or more participating items and save a dollar each with your card. Kruger, fresh for everyone. You're already there, hero. But if you want to take it to the next level, turn up Bull Lose 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. All designed to last a lifetime.

Start customizing now at bullbibikew.com. That's bullbibikew.com and turn a bull loose in your backyard. I live in Colorado. I have my entire life. My childhood friend, however, was an army brat. For the sake of privacy, I'll call her Lexi, and change a few other names in this as well. Lexi had lived all over the country,

and even across the world, her dad is a retired military police officer that was gone a lot. He made sure to teach her how to protect herself if she ever needed to. I remember them visiting one Thanksgiving, and my own dad asking to see the chokehold mentioned by her parents. Not long after, eight-year-old Lexi had nearly knocked my dad out.

She was no joke. We often reconnected once or twice a year. Her parents would let her stay for a week with my family during the summer while her parents visited friends and there are yearly trips to see grandparents. The summer after my eighth grade year, Lexi came to stay with us. It was a week full of boy talk and teenage girl nonsense. Being 13, we thought we were big enough to do things even though it wouldn't typically be approved by my parents. Sure, they let me walk to blocks to the gas station by myself many times. The problem with this specific situation was that both of my parents were at work and

to add to it, my six-year-old brother JD was home as well. Lexi and I wanted to go get some drinks at the gas station. JD had recently gotten his very own PlayStation 2 and wanted to stay in play Mortal Kombat. As the good big sister that I am, I made sure he knew not to leave his room unless he needed to go to the bathroom. No fire, no answering the door, no leaving the house. We dug through my coin jar to find a sufficient amount of money, and left him home alone, with promises to get him something as well. It took five to ten minutes to walk to the gas station. I knew a lot of the people in our neighborhood, and everyone was pretty friendly. To get there quickly, we took a

path that went over a bridge and followed a creek that ran between the backyards of houses on both sides. The gas station was across a busy road and backed by a separate neighborhood. As we approached, I saw a few boys that I knew from school and they waved. Lexi wasn't from around here, so she just went with it and we made our way to the entrance. As we passed to the park cars, there was a 40-something man in his truck that suddenly said, hey, it was friendly. As if he knew me, he looked like someone I might know, but I wasn't sure. Being the two nice girl that I am, I said hi, and we went inside, not thinking anything of it.

Lexi wanted a slushy, so we each got one. For some reason I got my brother a blue-colored lemonade drink instead, one that came in a glass bottle. We counted our change and paid for our drinks before going outside and starting to head back to my house. The man from before was rummaging for something in his truck, but at the time, I didn't really notice it. We were already across the busy street and nearing the path that we took earlier when we heard whistling, coming from behind us. I turned back and I saw the boys from before were still at the gas station

so I waved and kept going, thinking that it was them. Lexi and I giggled, thinking that they were so crazy and probably thought that we were hot, I roll. The sound of that vehicle speeding up behind us pulled us out of that, though. The truck pulled up on the curb beside us. I realized it was the man from the gas station, and was confused when he said something, but I didn't hear what he had said. What, I asked. Lexi grabbed my hand and tugged me slightly towards the path.

She was aware of the alarm bells that I was oblivious to. You dropped something, the man said louder, holding something out to me. He reached across his passenger's seat, but not quite close enough to the window. I stepped forward to see what it was. Lexi holding tighter to my arm. What is it, I asked him, still thinking he looked familiar enough to possibly be someone I knew? He seemed friendly enough, even if I was really confused.

He had a piece of paper in his hand, which I was immediately not interested in. If I had dropped my receipt, I wouldn't be sad about it. It's my phone number, he said smiling. You should text me. That was weird. I was 13. I knew that it was wrong for an adult to be giving me his number. No thanks, I said, starting to turn back to Lexi. Was she seeing the same thing that I was?

As I looked back, he tried to grab me through the open window. Lexi pulled me back hard, and I dropped the lemonade. The glass shattered, but Lexi was shouting at him, trying to take out her phone to take a picture. I was terrified and essentially useless. The man's smile had been replaced with a snarl. Lexi began to pull me down the path. The man floored it, and his truck tires squealed on the pavement as he whipped around the corner. We were running down the path in the direction of my house when I heard the sound going through the neighborhood.

Stop! He knows where the path comes out, I told her, panicking that as soon as we reached the bridge he'd be there waiting for us. I got out my phone, and rather than calling 911 or even my dad, I called my neighbor Mark, a retired police officer. I was very close to him and his wife. He answered right away, and I hysterically told him what was happening. He wasn't home. There wasn't anything he

could do. But he did his best to calm me down. Did you see the license plate or the type of truck he asked? All I knew was that it was gray. I wasn't looking at the truck. I was looking at the man. He told me to listen carefully to the road. If I heard the vehicle up ahead, then we were to turn around and go back through one of the yards that did not have a fence to get to the other side again, where the main road was. If not, he said to go home cautiously and call my dad. Lexi, always the bold one, walked around the bend until the bridge was in view. There wasn't anyone there, and she couldn't hear anything. Let's hurry. We can run down the block to your house, she said. Lots of people were outside doing yard work or sunbathing, so we felt safe enough to go.

I told Mark that we were fine, and he said that he would check on us when we got home. We made it inside and locked the door behind us. JD came to see us, and we told him that someone tried to grab us. He looked so nervous. For some reason I decided that we would tell my dad that JD had gone with us, but he had already been on the path when it happened. I thought it would get me in less trouble, even though in the end we weren't in any trouble. JD agreed to tell my dad that he had gone with us.

I gave him my slushy because I broke his drink and I felt bad about it. My dad got home ten minutes earlier than I had expected. We told him immediately what happened, and he was furious, not us, but at the man who had tried to take his kids. He was determined to find the person that did it, and we loaded into his own truck. All the while, he was asking us what the man's truck looked like.

I couldn't tell him much other than it looked like the one that he drove for work. Lexi, however, said, I got a picture. The picture showed only the back end and revealed that the truck was green, not grey, and half of the license plate, part of which she had memorized. I am so grateful for her awareness of the situation. We all went to the gas station and my dad went inside to tell the manager what had happened, and asked if we could see the camera footage of the previous half hour. The manager agreed, and it showed the initial encounter, and the man digging in his car. That's when he wrote his phone number down, or found the piece of paper that he used to lure me closer.

You can see us leave and him pulling out immediately after. The problem was that he has a baseball cap, and the image was too grainy to make out any of our faces as well. The manager called the police with my dad, and an officer came out to collect the footage and our story. When they asked if I knew him, I said maybe. The best way I could explain it was that he looked very similar to a man that spent a lot of time at our family friend Miguel's welding shop. I knew the guy to be nice, kind of vulgar, always drinking something from a brown paper bag. My dad couldn't exactly remember

who I was talking about, unfortunately. After we left, my dad drove us all around town. We drove through neighborhoods, mall parking lots, and more. All looking for this truck. My dad made the chilling comment that the man had likely hidden his truck and his garage when it didn't work. We went home after nearly an hour. My neighbor Mark was home by then, and had gotten me a twilight new moon movie poster to make me feel better. He and my dad stepped away to have a talk. It was a hot topic for the rest of the week, and my parents were more reluctant to let me

and JD go to the gas station for a long time after. Well fast forward to my sophomore year of high school. We were over at the family friend's shop when he mentioned that one of the guys he hired a few years back was arrested for trying to rape an underage girl. My dad asked if he had a picture of the man, and Miguel pulled his phone out. After searching for a while, he found a fishing photo of the man and showed it to me and my parents. There he was. It was the man from the truck.

I had, in fact, recognized my almost kidnapper. I am so grateful for Lexi, she saved my life that day. If you're young or have young kids, tell them to always be aware of the surroundings. I thought I knew better and could handle myself, but I was wrong. Be safe out there. 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 Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a betteriber. 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 in select areas. Visit AT&T.com slash HyperGig for details. 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 at ATT.com slash Hypergate for details. I used to work the evening shift at an Italian restaurant in my medium sized Midwest city. Some nights, I'd get out as late as midnight.

In the summertime, I love to walk the three or so miles back to my house as the summer nights here are balmy and beautiful, filled with fireflies and foliage. But understandably, my friends hated this habit of mine. Our city is not nearly the largest in the US, but it is one of the most dangerous, however, I was lucky that up until this story, I always made it home without any major incidents. that up until this story, I always made it home without any major incidents. So the night in question, a friend of mine insisted I take her car to work as to avoid walking home at night.

I was reluctant. She was persuasive, and so I drove her car. Around midnight, I left my job alone through the back door, and I was sitting in the car stretching my feet and decompressing from my shift when a young man came up and opened my passenger door. The locks on this car unfortunately were manual and I had forgotten to lock all of them, being out of the habit of driving. Before I had a chance to think, he was sitting in the passenger's seat next to me, asking for a ride to a nearby convenience store.

And against my better judgment, I agreed. The problem was, I was fairly new to town, and didn't know where too many things were just yet, so I wasn't sure where I was going, and seemingly neither was he. At first, he just seemed like your average 19 or 21-year-old dude. Pretty normal, except for the getting into a stranger's car at midnight thing. So I went ahead and tried to find a convenience store that he was talking about. However, as I'm sure surprise is no one, things quickly got weird. He couldn't figure out exactly where it was he needed to go and then began changing

his mind repeatedly as to which direction I should drive and even what his destination was. So, I was basically driving in circles with this perfect stranger. His weirdness kept ramping up, and soon he was talking quickly and erratically while I tried to stay calm and figure out how to get him out of this car, but before I had a chance to simply kick him out, he pulled out a gun, seemingly out of nowhere, and began waving around in my face, and at my body. His movements had also become erratic. Of course, I was terrified but I told myself to stay calm. I tried telling him to stop waving the gun around because it might

go off accidentally, while repeatedly assuring him he was in charge. I'd take him wherever he needed to go. Trying to keep him as calm as possible. He then starts telling me all kinds of odd and inappropriate things, like being assaulted when he was a child. His parents were drug addicts. He tells me, don't worry, I'm not going to rape you. This is not comforting to hear. I'm almost numb now. Clearly, I've made a big mistake. This guy has to be on drugs or having some kind of mental health crisis. He can't decide where he wants me to drive him to, and he keeps waving this pistol around. He's also demanding that I hand over my cell phone, but neither of us can find it anywhere

in the car. So I assume I left it at work. I'm white-nuckling, the steering will, and I'm thinking, just stay calm, as we pass by numerous unfamiliar streets. Eventually, he directs me onto the highway. At this point, I'm sure people are wondering why I didn't do any number of things to end this situation, why I didn't drive to a police station or crash the car or something. Well, as I said, I was in a new town. I didn't know where the police stations were. But also was just driving to do whatever was necessary to keep from getting shot, either accidentally or intentionally by my unhinged passenger. The situation goes on for hours, changing little as my nerves sizzle inward. I'm driving in circles now, getting on and off the same freeway exits, driving through

parts of the city that I don't know yet. All the while he continues to tell me bizarre, unrelated, rapid fire snippets of his life story. I'm starting to think this is never going to end. He has me get off on an exit that we've already been to a few times and demands that I pull over to a nearby dark alley, while screaming for my phone and demanding all of my money. This is it, I think. This is where I die. I hand over everything that I had,

a whopping 50 bucks. We then searched for myself on one last time to know a veil, looking under seats and all over the car. And then, as suddenly as it began, it ended. He tells me to get the fuck out of the car. I did so as fast as I could and he sped off. At this point, it's somewhere around 2 or 3 a.m. I'm in a part of the city far away from my house in a dark deserted alley with no money and no idea of how to get back home. I don't even know which direction I should start to walk in. There's no one around. Everything is closed, dark,

and silent. I realize I'm shaking. I take a few deep breaths and sit down on a curb. That's when I feel my phone poking me from the back pocket of my shorts, where it had been all along. I cannot believe how amazingly lucky I was that he hadn't thought to search my back pockets. So I have no other choice. I call the police. A lot of them show up. At least four squad cars. They all arrive quickly. Some of the officers are rude and blame me for the whole thing as they take my statement on that previously dark corner, as it is now filled with flashing red and blue lights.

Some of the officers however are incredibly kind and a few of them end up driving me home. I can't believe I made it through. Of course I have to tell my friend about her car. She is incredulous, angry, worried, and we stay up all night talking, fueled by adrenaline. For weeks after the event, I felt like I was floating above my body. I was so grateful for surviving, grateful that I got out with not even a single scratch. I felt so lucky, I felt proud, that I was able to be calm in the face of that insanity. Those feelings, of course, faded.

Now, I'm a lot more cautious and wary, and probably have some extra anxiety as well, as I no longer can take my once beloved night walks. Eventually, they found this guy and my friend's car. He was caught for drug possession and other charges. And I think what you will, but I actually feel a bit bad for the kid, so young and already his life is close to ruined. If even half of what he told me about his life is true, he didn't have much of a chance. Still though, to the guy who jumped into my car and held me for hours

at gunpoint. If you ever get out of jail, I'm strapped now too, so let's not meet. It was early 2016 and I was a college freshman excited to finish my first year at Syracuse University in New York. I'm originally from Minnesota, so moving out to the East Coast, I was desperate to latch on to any friendship I could manage as I was alone in an unfamiliar place. Luckily, I was able to make friends with the girl from my dorm named Heather, and being so strikingly out of my element, I was pretty much willing to do whatever it would take to maintain this friendship. So when Heather asked if I would go with her to the Lil Wayne concert on Saturday, a couple

of hours away, I of course obliged. The drive to the show was long, but we had our trusty phones to guide our way and had a blast just cruising across the state and jamming to Lil Wayne music to get ourselves hyped up. At last, we made it to the show. The concert was sweaty, loud, and long. By the end, I could feel my body limp with exhaustion, so needless to say, I was pretty relieved to be walking back to the car at midnight and was just looking forward to getting back to the university. As we got into the car, it occurred to me that I had no idea how to get back. So I began searching for my Galaxy S5 to consult Google Maps, Heather next to me, still dancing

and singing lyrics from the show. I'm having trouble finding my phone, so I ask her if we can use hers for directions. She agrees and pulls it out, still singing to herself. Her singing stops abruptly. Oh no, I think I used up the battery. She says, I dig around for my phone and finally I find it. No problem, we can just use mine, I say, as I click the power button. The screen lights up, the screen shows one slim red bar in the battery icon.

My stomach sinks. I frantically search for a piece of paper in a pen to write down as many details of the directions as I can before the battery runs out. Just as I scribble my last few notes off of Google Maps, the phone dies. I admit at this point, I am overflowing with anxiety as neither of us know the area, but I don't want to let on how afraid I am so I begin the drive. I turn on the radio for a bit of background sound to comfort me and help me maintain focus. I follow main highways for a while, everything seems to be going alright, so I relax a bit and we begin chatting.

We're driving for about an hour or so, chatting and laughing when suddenly, I see the highway is closed ahead. I begin to panic again. I take the next exit and to my relief, there's what appears to be a fronted road that runs parallel to the highway. I turn on to it however, after driving for only 20 minutes or so, the road begins twisting and turning

and I can no longer tell what direction we're driving. All signs of civilization disappear. The pavement on the road ends and we begin on a dirt road, thickly and indated with brush and tall dense trees. There is no light except for the moon, veiled by the heavy tree line. The music on the radio station slowly fades to static. We are truly lost. Both inside and outside of the car, it is eerily quiet as I nervously continue along the dirt road. We drive for what feels like hours when, off in the distance, about a mile or

so up the road, we see what appears to be a bright light. The closer we get to the light, the slower I drive. Maybe it's a gas station, I think, to myself, hopefully. As we approach, we see that it's not a light at all, but a reflective jacket. In fact, there are two reflective jackets, and in them are two men who are frantically waving their arms over their heads and yelling, no, screaming for us to stop to help. As we near them, my stomach is in knots and I am suddenly filled with an overwhelming

sense of dread for reasons I can't explain. As I come up to them on the road, I unintentionally and rather subconsciously step on the gas. Heather next to me is yelling at me, what are you doing? They need help. We have to stop. But I continue down the road. Something just feels off. She continues to plead with me to help them,

so I stop the car on the road side about a mile away. I tell her about this bad feeling I have and that I don't feel good about the situation, especially because we are just two young college girls alone and no one knows where we are. If anything were to happen, I knew we couldn't call for help. I told her, I'm sorry, I just can't do it,

I don't think it's a good idea. Heather continues pleading with me, getting increasingly more upset. Finally, against my better judgment, I tell her, fine, okay, okay, we can go back, but I'm not stopping the car. I'm only gonna roll down the window enough to ask if they're okay. She lets out a huge sigh of relief, but the not that began in my stomach

when we pass them begins to tighten. Something is off. Something is off. My brain keeps repeating. I turn the car around. Slowly, very slowly, I make my way back to their area on the roadside. I can see as we approach the two men of split up. They're about 5 car links away from each other, waiting for us on the side of the road. I slowly roll up alongside the first man. I see

now that the reflective jacket I noticed before is a snowmobiling jacket and behind him in the ditch is a snowmobile. This wouldn't make sense except it was now 2 a.m. and no one should be out this late snowmobiling. Then my mind registers that there is in fact no snow on the ground. The not-and-my-stomach titans again. Still, I rolled down the window. To my surprise, the man does not approach the car. He seems almost nervous. I shout, is everything okay? He stutters back. Yeah, we're fine. We just need gas. It's okay. Just keep driving. Even though he's standing away from the car, I can see he's shaking. His eyes are wide as if he knows something I don't, or maybe that he was trying to communicate

something with me that I'm just not picking up. Something is off. My brain shoots me the message again. I roll the window up, relieve that everything is okay and that we can move on from this weird situation. As I do this, the second man begins walking towards the car. Having just confirmed with the other man that they're okay, I rolled down the window a few inches and called to the man nearing the car. Hey, your friend just

told us you guys are out of gas. We hope you guys can find some. To my shock, the man yells back, let us in. You can drive us to the gas station. I was not about to do this, so I called back, sorry, we have to go, but there should be a gas station up the road. I begin to roll the window up so we can move along, but in that moment I hear the man's scream, let me in you fucking bitch, as he breaks into a full on sprint. All I can see is the man pull something shiny from his jacket and begin to lunge at full force at the driver's side wheel. In an act of pure adrenaline, I floor the gas as hard as I can just as he lunges,

causing him to miss the wheel by only inches. I'm hardly breathing and I can feel hot tears streaming down my cheeks. Heather is screaming and whaling. We barely escaped. Just as I think the horror is over, I realize the car is now turned around the wrong way, and the only way back to our destination is to drive back in their direction.

I am terrified and shaking, but I know I have to get us back in that direction. I had noticed what looked like the light pollution of a town just up the road, and I know that is our only hope to get help and get home. I idle for a moment, collecting my courage. I can see the men still up the road, but I know if I can just make it by, we will be okay. I know what I have to do. I sink my foot all the way into the gas pedal, picking up more and more speed.

My heart is pounding in my chest. We are flying down the road. I can hardly process how fast we're going as we finally speed past the two men on the dirt road. I watch them disappear into my rear view mirror, still screaming and running after the car. I stifle a sob. I think to myself, thank God, we're alive. 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 Gagillionaire? 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 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 in select areas, visit AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details. 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 in select areas. Visit ATT.com slash Hypergate for details. This story begins in my small hometown located in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania. My hometown consists of about 1100 people, one traffic light, and an equal number of churches to bars. It truly is a beautiful town, but the average age of the residents is around 60, and town growth has slowed significantly over the years. We have only one school that's pre-K through 12 for the entire area, with close to 350 students. The school is small and built on an old logging pond from the 1800s.

For this reason, the school dealt with flooding issues for years until they built a dike on the backside of the school, which has helped prevent flooding over the last few decades. To the left of the dike is the baseball field with a huge metal fence that wraps around the entire outer edge of the field. My graduating class only consisted of 18 students, so the dating pool was relatively small. Often people would date individuals from different schools or grade levels. At the time, I was 16 and dating dating a girl, a grade level below me. Our relationship officially ended, or at least her parents thought it did, after there was significant drama between myself and her mother.

However, we would still hang out and would often meet up late at night or early in the morning as it was the only time that we could see each other. We both lived in town at the time, and she could get to my house by crossing the dike behind the school. She had her cell phone taken away at the time because of all of the issues that had come up with our relationship. So I had to rely on calling her home phone or landline. We had made a plan to meet up at the entrance of the school at 2am,

but when I called her home, she didn't pick up. My bedroom at the time was on the bottom floor of a two-story house, and I would often leave the house through my bedroom window. It was close enough to the ground that I could easily sneak in or out without making a noise. I assumed she was still going to meet up with me so I set off from my house at 150 AM and started to make my way to the entrance of the school. It was very dark outside, but I had brought a flashlight with me just in case I needed it. As I made my way to the very bottom of the dike, a gradual incline to the top,

there was a man standing about 20 feet from me. There was one little street lamp shining down on him, and I couldn't see his face. His workboots were noticeably worn and splattered with dirt. workboots were noticeably worn and splattered with dirt. He also wore jeans and a hoodie with the hood up over his head. His arms were at his sides, but they were in a pose that made him seem like he was ready for some kind of attack. I couldn't see his eyes, but his mouth showed no expression whatsoever. He just stood there, staring at the ground and his body didn't move at all. I was scared. I didn't expect to run into someone that late at night. I stopped dead in my tracks, and I knew I wasn't getting any closer to this guy.

I was so nervous that I blurred ited out great night for a walk. He just stood there lifeless and didn't acknowledge that I had said anything to him. So then I said, okay, I have a great night and I quickly turned around to go back home. As I was walking briskly back to my house, I heard a thud coming from behind me. It started to repeat, thud, thud, again, another thud. At first I wasn't sure what this noise was, but I quickly found out the man was running after me. He was running as fast as anyone could in work boots. When I saw this man running after me. He was running as fast as anyone could in work boots. When I saw this man running after me, I took off and started running as fast as I possibly could. I ran through my neighbor's backyards and did my best to lose the man

that was running after me. I knew that if I let him catch up with me, that he would likely beat me to within an inch of my life. I finally made my way back to my house, threw open my bedroom window and jumped through onto my bed. My heart was racing and I laid on my bed for a few minutes to slow my breathing and gather my thoughts. As I laid on my bed, I thought of the fact that I had never made it to the entrance of the school and that my girlfriend could still be waiting for me there or possibly be on her way to my house. I couldn't risk her running into this man.

I knew I had to go see if she was waiting for me. So I gathered up my courage, jumped out of my window and made my way back to the entrance of the school. I took the same path as before, but this time, there wasn't a man standing in my way. So I was able to make it to the school. I took the same path as before, but this time there wasn't a man standing in my way, so I was able to make it to the entrance. I stood there for about 15 minutes and realized my girlfriend wasn't going to make it. I started to make my journey back to my house, and made it to the end of the dike. I looked down, and I could see the man

standing below the light again. It was like he hadn't moved at all. I couldn't believe that he was standing there, again, waiting for me. It was like he knew I was going to come back. At that moment I decided that I wasn't going to be a victim. I wasn't going to be someone that you read about online and some article with a headline that said, local teen beaten to death. I took off running to the left hand side of the dike and jumped to the baseball fence. Behind the fence is a largely undeveloped piece

of land with weeds, small trees, and many obstacles. I stumbled a bit, but made my way back to the main road. I knew I had to run as fast as I possibly could in order to get away from this man. I admittedly was in much better shape at the time and ran for hours at soccer practice. If there was a good time to get chased by someone who may cause me bodily harm, this was certainly the best time in my life for it to happen. I took off down the street and again I could hear that thud of his boots running after me. I made it to the end of the street and took a left through someone's yard. As I took that turn, I heard the man yell, kind of a whispering yell. I see you're taking shortcuts.

I see you're taking shortcuts. I knew he was right behind me, as I could feel his presence within grabbing distance. I dodged clotheslines, holes in yards, fences, and made a large horseshoe pattern running through neighbor's yards. I eventually tripped into a pricker bush, which cut up my neck, arms, and legs. But I laid in that bush for a few minutes because I wanted to give up. I was tired, but I knew the only safe place was home. I gathered up what strength and energy I had left and made my way to my house. I threw open the window and jumped through onto my bed. My knees hit the window sill on the way in, and it ripped off the wall.

I slammed my window shut, locked it, and laid on my bed feeling paralyzed for a few minutes. I made my way to the bathroom, threw up, turned on the shower, and began to wash the blood off of my clothes and my body. I sat on the shower-stall floor for a good 15 minutes and let the water wash away the events of that night. I eventually calmed down enough to go to sleep. I never did find out who that man was or why he wanted to hurt me. To be honest, I didn't care. I was just glad that he didn't catch me that night. Oh, and if you're wondering, that was the last of the late

night rendezvous's I ever had with this girlfriend. Don't forget if you're a Patreon subscriber to stick around after the outro music for your extended version of this episode, and if you'd like to get access and support the show, head over to patreon.com-forward-slash-let's-not-meat-podcast to subscribe today you're going to get ad-free extended versions of these episodes, as well as other bonus content and exclusive merchandise sent directly to you from me. This podcast is not possible without all of the wonderful patrons over at the Patreon. That link will be in the show notes.

Thanks again to Heather Ashley from Big Mad True Crime, one of my favorite shows, and one of my favorite guests to have on my show. Don't forget to check out Big Mad True Crime wherever you get your podcast. You're not going to regret it. It's extremely informative and very entertaining. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. This week you have heard an untitled story by Katie. A story by Katie Kaminsky. I was almost kidnapped by Lawless A. O. Lee. Kidnapped and Car Jacked by E. Rush With Death by Jess Jorgensen.

And finally, Midnight Man by Adam Baker. 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 have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. Stay safe. cast, Stacy. Coming up, we have an unmasked man who almost took my life, almost murdered on my wedding night. A story about an online stalker and more.

18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward 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 in select areas. Visit AT&T.com slash hypergate for details. AT&T Fiber presents a straightforward 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 Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T

Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, 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 AT&T.com slash HyperGig for details. you