Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 8x12: Lady with the Butcher Knife - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: April 25, 2022

Stories in this episode:  - Jamie, by Kelly  (0:48) - Lady with the Butcher Knife, by Whitney (8:37) - The Fake Accident, by Chloe (15:29) - Summer Camp Backpacking Trip, by Theodora (24:05) - Creepy Neighbor, by Anon (28:57) - Camper Man, by Shutterlover (35:54) - The Couple, by Audra (50:01) Extended Patreon Content: - Stories from my Dad and Myspace, by Nick - I Think Someone Tried To Lure Me Outside, by Lee - The Stuffed Animal Bomb Threat, by Kari Don't forget to check out this week's episode of my other podcast Odd Trails for your true paranormal fix at OddTrails.com or wherever you find 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 at a higher bitrate 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!  Upstart is the fast and easy way to pay off your debt with a personal loan–all online. Find out how Upstart can lower your monthly payments today when you go to upstart.com/meet.  Go to dailyharvest.com and enter promo code meet to get up to $40 off your first box! Delicious food that's good for you AND the planet! Stop wasting time going to the Post office and go to Stamps.com instead. There’s NO risk. And with my promo code, MEET, you get a special offer that includes a 4-week trial PLUS free postage and a digital scale. No long-term commitments or contracts. Just go to Stamps.com, click on the Microphone at the TOP of the homepage and type in MEET today! Right now, save up to 60% off your subscription when you go to. Just go to BABBEL.com and use promo code MEET.  All time stamps are approximate and may not be 100% accurate after 90 days due to changes in ad placement.   - 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  

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All designed to last a lifetime. Start customizing now at bullbibikew.com. That's bullbibq.com and turn a bull loose in your backyard. This podcast contains adult language and content. If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. This happened when I was in college in my early 20s, over 20 years ago now, I lived in a small Midwestern college town where I attended a state university. My last year there, I lived in a large, old Victorian house with a big wrap around porch that had been converted into three separate apartments.

These apartments were very run down, but the rent was incredibly cheap, so we all overlooked how shoddy the apartments were. We considered ourselves lucky. In my youth, I didn't realize that the two bedroom apartment my roommate and I shared wasn't actually legal to rent as it only had one entrance and exit, and had no back door. This was the summer, after what was supposed to be my last semester of college, but unfortunately after the breakup. I had a bit of a breakdown. I went off the rails, started partying too hard, and consequently failed two of my final classes. I was in a drunken limbo, and I wasn't sure what I was going to do with myself or how I was going to tell

my parents I hadn't actually graduated. My roommate had gone home for the summer, but had left her dog with me. He was a good boy, a medium-sized mutt that I was glad to have the company of while she was gone. Friends lived in the adjoining apartments, and we had also become good friends with the girl who lived a few doors down in another house. We'll say her name is Beth. Beth had also gone home for the summer, but there were still quite a few students in town and still plenty of partying to be had.

One person who was still in town was Beth's new boyfriend. Jamie. Beth had been dating him for a few months and said that he was really sweet and she liked him a lot. He had been in the military and wasn't a student but worked in the maintenance department at the university with plans to start classes in the fall. As I said, I was drinking quite a bit, and one night I was at a house party with my ex-boyfriend who I still had a complicated relationship with. We were in the basement at this party,

sitting around a bar with Beth's boyfriend, who was there with a girl that he was good friends with. I still don't have any idea how it started, because it was very drunk, but for some reason, something Jamie said really revved me the wrong way, and I started yelling at him saying that he should stay the fuck away from Beth. I do remember his friend saying, he'll do it, he's crazy. As if he were saying something about smashing someone's head, probably mine, or something like that. My ex pulled me out of the party and we walked a couple of blocks back to my apartment. The next morning I was mortified, filled with shame, as I usually was after a drinking bench where my memory is very fuzzy.

I couldn't remember the details of why Jamie and I had argued and was embarrassed that I had yelled at him like that, but being who I was at the time, I continued to live the party college life. I can't remember if it was the afternoon, or if it was a few days after, but I was laying on the couch in our living room, hung over again, hazy and hating myself when my roommate's dog started barking at the front door. I hadn't heard a knock, but the couch was about one foot from the door, so I got up and opened it to see what he was barking at. There was Jamie standing on the porch, right in front of our door. He said, is Beth here? I was confused and said, no, Beth went home for the summer, you know that. He didn't

really say anything to that, and as I was holding back the dog from running out, I layly said something to the effect of, listen, I'm really sorry about the other night, I don't really remember what happened, but I know that I was yelling at you, so I'm sorry. He just kind of shrugged a little bit and said, okay, and then being the daughter of a policeman who taught me how to be alert. I realized I didn't want him to think that I was alone there, so I pretended that my ex was there and yelled, oh, it's just Beth's boyfriend, Jamie, toward the backbedrooms. After that he left and I closed the door, but I was a little freaked out. The house was very old with really high ceilings and windows that were probably

original to the house. Most of them were heavy double-pained glass that couldn't be opened and the ones that could were on this weird old rope pulley system, and we can never figure out how to even get them open. And as I mentioned, there was no back door. In hindsight, it was a total fire trap. But I was freaked out, and I thought I could hear Windows rattling. But this being my summer of drinking and denial, after I didn't see Jamie again, I quickly put it out of my mind. About a month later, another college student who lived a few blocks away was found murdered

in her apartment. She lived in a basement apartment, and the killer had cut the screen to the window to get in, hid in her bedroom, then attacked her with a knife. It was rumored to be very gruesome, as she fought very hard, but had been choked, gagged, and assaulted, basically disemboweled and left there, to be found by her roommates. A credit card was left at the scene, and it turned out to be the killers. It was Jamie. He wasn't friends with the victim, but he knew her from working at the University gym. He was standing watching across the street as the police were processing the scene.

He was then also suspected of setting a fire a few months earlier that had completely destroyed a large apartment complex being built next to where the girl lived. Beth, who is a kindhearted person, was understandably traumatized about being duped in having been intimate with the psychopath. He wrote her a letter from jail and drew hearts and rainbows on it. A short while after, I moved away from that town, but followed the trial. Fellow soldiers, neighbors, and several women, including his good friend from the night we argued, testified about his violent behavior. He was sentenced to death, but the death penalty was overturned in our state, so hopefully he'll spend the rest of his life rotting in prison. I'm thankful that the dog was barking

and that I didn't remember the details of our fight, so maybe disarmed him with an apology. And I'm thankful it was nearly impossible to get those big windows open. I also thank God that that lunatic didn't kill me and that I went on to graduate and get my life together. But I will always feel terrible for that poor girl and her family.

I pray I never meet anyone like him ever again, and I hope he rots in hell. This story took place in the early 2000s when I was about 12 years old. It was my birthday weekend, and my childhood best friend and I were building a case as to why her mom should take us to the local mall to do some shopping? The only problem was we lived in a rural Ohio town, where the local mall was about half an hour away. This meant taking many back roads just to get to the nearest on ramp for the highway. Once she agreed to take us, we were happily in the backseat of our mother's car, headed to the mall.

It was a gloomy fall day. I still remember that. The overcast set the scene for what was about to be. A day I still have not forgotten. Almost 15 years later. We had been on the backroads for about 15 minutes, with hardly any cars passing us by, as we made our way. We were busy playing games and talking nonsense in the back, when we suddenly realized

there was a woman in a very old car following us, close behind. As my friend and I appeared out the back window, we realized she was muttering something. The woman driving the car looked to be in her 50s, and she had long, scraggly, dirty blonde hair. Her car was filled with various clothing items and baskets of things from what we could see. Anyways, she continued to get closer and closer to our car, and it looked as though she would rear end us at any moment. As we continued to drive, the woman became visibly more upset, waving her hands and yelling

something at us as we faced her in the back window. My friend's mother was becoming angered by this woman's behavior, and she pulled over to the side of the road to let the woman pass. The mad woman did pass us, so we got back on the road and continued on our way. Not ten yards up the road the woman now in front of us slowed down almost to a rolling stop. At which point, my friend's mom swerved around her car, and we just kept driving. My friend and I were becoming very frightened at this point, as there were no other cars around, nor was there good cell reception where we were. Now behind us, the woman picked up speed in her car again and continued waving at us.

Only now, she wasn't waving her hands. She was waving a large butcher knife at us. My friend and I began to cry. My friend's mother somehow kept her cool and continued down the road. The woman was only becoming more hostile and aggressive at this point. Her car was swerving all over the road behind us, and then, next to our car, as she kept waving her knife at my friend and I in the back seat. She even proceeded to roll down her window and wave it out the window. Something that freaks me out to this day is that this whole time she was mumbling

and yelling words, but we could never really make anything out. After about 30 seconds more of this, my friend's mother pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. Luckily, she got through and gave them our rough location. The police told her to drive to the nearest highway on ramp and that they would meet us there. We continued what seemed like an endless drive to the nearest ramp. The cops met us there and the woman turned down a side road before we came into their view. And we stayed with my friend's mom so she could file the report. And we stayed with my friend's mom so she could file the report. We never did hear anything about it.

We don't know if she was caught or not, but I still wonder what happened to her. But more importantly, what would have happened if she were able to get to us? So creepy lady with the butcher knife. Let's never meet. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualize coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development, online in-person, individually,

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They're all ready to bake veggie packed dishes sizzling with gourmet level flavors that are big enough to share you just won't want to. Avoid the takeout temptation and get daily harvest today. Just go to dailyharvest.com slashmeater. Follow the link in the show notes to get up to $40 off your first box. That's dailyharvest.com slashmeat for up to $40 off your first box. Don't miss this deal. Dailyharvest.com slash slash meat, now back to the show. I've been meaning to write this ever since I introduced my mom to your podcast, and she reminded me of this story. Now that I've benged just about all of Let's Not Meet, I'm running out of content to

listen to, so I decided it was finally time to share. For context at the time of this story, I lived in a pretty large city and florida that is known for its beaches and proximity to major attractions like Disney and Universal Studios. I was around ten years old and even at that young age I was naturally distrusting of others and always assumed the worst. My mom on the other hand is a saint and always believes that people have the best intentions. I take more after my dad, I suppose.

This is all relevant. The day that this story happened, it was just a normal hot summer day in Florida. My mom and I had just finished eating lunch and we were headed back home. We turned out of the restaurant parking lot and onto a pretty busy street. And as soon as the car was all the way onto the street and picking up speed, the van directly in front of my mom slammed on its brakes. My mom immediately slammed on hers as well

and we ended up coming to a complete stop. After ensuring that I was okay, my mom looked out to see what possibly could have made the man slam on his brakes and then come to a complete stop on a major road. As we looked up, we saw a man in his 40s or 50s get out of the van and start walking towards our car. The man was quite large, standing at least six feet and probably close to 200 pounds. Upon seeing him approach, my mom made sure that our doors were locked and the windows were cracked

just enough to be able to hear the man speak as he came to a stop right next to the driver's side window. The man exclaimed, you hit my van. Confusion washed over my mom's face, and she looked to see if I had felt the impact of the collision. I hadn't, and I told her as much. She turned back to the man and informed him that neither her nor I felt the crash happen, and that he must be mistaken. The man was not satisfied with her answer, though, he gestured to a long, thin white scratch along the back of his bumper.

You did that, your car did that, he exclaimed again. Now, men shouting has always and probably always sent me into a state of panic. So upon hearing this voice continue to get louder, I reached for a knife that my dad kept in the passenger door storage pocket and opened up the blade. My dad is ex-special forces and is permanently suspicious, which is why he kept the knife in the car, like I said I take after him more than I do my mom. I'm not exactly sure what my ten-year-old mind planned to do with that knife, but I clutched the handle like my life depended on it, for all I knew, it very well might. My mom, however, was still not sensing any danger

in the situation, and instead, calmly explained to the man that the front of her car came to a V-shape. There was no way that long stripe could have been from her car. The man persisted that my mom re-rendered him. He then said that if she gave him $600 cash, he would forget about the whole thing and not involve insurance. Upon hearing this, my mom took out her phone and dialed 911 to get the police involved immediately, not because she was scared, but because that's what you do when you've been in a car accident and it didn't seem like the man was going to let it go. As soon as the man saw my mom, put the phone to her ear.

He panicked and told her to just forget the whole thing. He then scrambled back into his van and drove off, leaving my mom and I dumbfounded. She hung up the phone without talking to the dispatcher, so 911 called her right back. My mom told the dispatcher what had happened, but that everything was fine now and the man left. The dispatcher told her that she did the right thing and not to hesitate to call back if something like this happened again. After hanging up the phone, my mom looked at me with confusion on her face, which then turned to a mix of humor and pride when I showed her the knife that I had been holding

since this encounter began. We agreed that this was probably just some scam that the man tried to pull, hoping that people without insurance would just give him money to make it go away. However, since my mom did have insurance and did not have $600 cash on her the scam, didn't work. Something still felt weird about the entire situation though. So we agreed to go to the mall across the street from where we were, just in case the man was nearby and tried to follow us home. We drove across the street, and after parking,

my mom inspected the front of her car, sure enough, no damage or anything else to suggest that we had re-rendered the van. We went into the first major department store at the mall. We were just browsing through clothes, when my blood ran cold. In between the racks of blouses, there was that same man, watching us. I tugged on my mom to get her attention. I saw genuine fear on her face for the first time. We quickly and quietly exited the store through the backway, constantly looking behind us to see if we were being followed. We made it back to the car and got out of the parking lot as fast as we could.

We took the long way home, going several miles out of the way to make sure that no one was following us. We never saw the man again and nothing more ever came out of the scenario, but it was still very deeply unsettling. To this day, I don't understand why the man followed us inside the mall. If all he was after was just some cash, his scam failed after all I hope we never meet again. Don't let the summer heat bake in road grime any longer, hand to your nearby Zips Carwash to clean up and cool off. And listen to this, now when you buy your next car wash online at zipscarwash.com, you

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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 Gigaillionaire with AT&T Fiber. Limited availability in select areas. Visit ATT.com slash Hypergate for details. I had been attending this summer camp in Southern Colorado for basically my whole life. It's a backpacking month-long camp. however you spend about half of the month there at the actual camp and not backpacking. It's important to note that that specific year at the camp was very understaffed.

There are different age groups, and I was in the second one for middle school girls. Side note, it's usually mixed genders except for that specific age group, the boys and girls are separated, but do some activities together. A cabin usually consists of a counselor, assistant counselor, or AC, and six to seven girls. The age group that I was in had an upper camp and lower camp, upper for the older, lower for the younger. The younger girls were about 11-12 and didn't have any prior hiking or backpacking experience, and not to sound rude, but they were not the best at it and were pretty weak. The first trips, you're able to choose the ones you want to go on.

So you might not be with anyone in your cabin. The specific trip that I went on was one I'd never been on before. It was pretty easy though. I was on all of the other trips already so I couldn't go on them. Most of the younger girls were also on this trip, about 9 campers and 2 counselors. Our campsite was 12,000 feet up and on a near cliff so it was a pretty hard hike up and there was no fresh water near our campsite so we had to go down to the valley to get drinking water.

On the second day we ran out of water and we had already peaked and nearby mountain that day, so a lot of the younger campers were pretty tired. The plan was for the counselors to go back down into the valley, get water, and go back up. I volunteered to go with them, but they needed someone with experience to watch the other campers in case something went south. It did. Everything was pretty chill for the first 30 minutes until we saw a man coming down the mountain towards our campsite. I had a gut

feeling that something was wrong, so I get the girls together. Luckily, I remembered what to do, if approached. You have to get out of sight or run into the woods, arm yourself with the rock or stick and stay very quiet. I lead them all to a sort of rock structure in the mountain. Imagine a small cave with no roof. I told them all to be very quiet, and if you hear me say, Marmit, start screaming as loud as you can, so hopefully the counselors will hear us. In case the man was lost or in need, and also so that I could see if he was coming closer, I sat a bit outside of it, but not completely in view. The man slowly but surely walked towards me. He was tall, very big, which made me nervous. I was about five-four, very skinny. I was also fourteen at the time. He approaches

me and asks, where are all the adults? I say there about three minutes down the hill, looking at flowers. He asks, what are you doing here? And then asked, if anyone else was around, even though he probably could have seen the nine other girls' stuff and sleeping bags there. I say, yes, they're all with the adults. I then tell him, they are expecting me back at the flowers. He says, I know you're lying. It's wrong to lie. I knew that this man was probably going to do something dangerous, so I say, have you seen

all the marmits on the rocks? Thank the Lord the girls heard me. They started screaming, bloody murder. It scared the man so bad he ran. It brought the counselors back as well. We told them what had happened, and we moved camp spots about a mile and a half away in a well hidden area. But to that creepy man at my summer camps campsite, let's never meet again. For reference, I live in a small Midwestern town. Sorry for the length of this story.

In 2020, I purchased my first home by myself as a 26 year old female. Buying a home in the middle of the pandemic is no easy task, let alone in the middle of the Midwest winter. There's a lot of snow and negative temperatures. As a young millennial, you have a sense of excitement becoming a homeowner and to try and be the perfect neighbor. Keep this in mind for later. I purchased a very popular video doorbell for safety. Actually, I thought it would just be nice to see when packages are delivered or to catch someone being a porch pirate. I never thought it would be used as a true safety

device. I got to know the majority of my neighborhood through baking treats and delivering them to the surrounding neighbors. There was this one neighborhood couple that is adjacent to my backyard, where I do spend many of my spring and summer evenings. I only saw the couple in passing. They were not overly friendly, never waving, smiling, or having a conversation in passing. I was meeting a few friends for dinner one evening and left around 6 p.m. Moments later I arrived at the restaurant, parked, and sat in the parking lot until my

friends arrived. Suddenly I received a notification that someone rang the doorbell. I thought maybe my friend thought that she needed to pick me up for dinner instead of meeting me there. I opened the live view on my app, but I didn't speak. I set there staring at this older gentleman in his mid-40s or 50s. He was smoking a cigarette and holding a bottle, along with a piece of paper. He stands there for a few moments, not knowing that I was watching him. He leans forward and shows me the note. He then places the note into my mailbox. My blood ran cold and I froze. I knew somehow, call it instinct, that I needed to run home.

I drove the two minutes back to my house, careful to see if the man was still there, and he wasn't. I quickly dashed out of my car and ran to the mailbox and back to my car. I locked the door and scanned the letter frantically. Panic said in as I read the note. The frantic writing, going all directions, things crossed out, arrows drawn, repetitive words, all on both sides of white paper, all in black pen. This was like something straight out of criminal minds. I threw the note into the seat next to me and sped to the restaurant

to park and read the note in more detail. My heart began racing and tears were welling up in my eyes. I read a few of the following statements, thoughts and ramblings. I don't know what's going on with you two ladies, but I'm 100% taken. She doesn't want me talking to you. I told her about the pink dress. I wore a pink t-shirt and went out, and I continued to go out when you showed up. Curtains were down for about two months. What more do I need to go out when you showed up. Curtains were downed for about two months. What more do I need to do?

I can't keep the electricity on all day. I need natural light to do my art. I'm not looking. You got the wrong idea. I'm not looking. I'm 100% taken. I can't control what other people in the household say. I barely talk to them. I'm not messing with anyone I keep to myself.

At first, I looked out of curiosity. You were cleaning out the basement wearing a yellow shirt. The madness of this note continued with more ramblings of how he isn't interested, how we are pursuing him, how he can't do his art, and that his girlfriend is jealous. I met my friends and showed them the note. We immediately went to the police. They didn't take me seriously, and this is a small town, and nothing bad happens here.

All they said to me was, I'm sure you you're scared But it isn't that big of a deal So I went home Months later every time my doorbell rings or motion cameras go off I Jump I can't use my backyard anymore without feeling afraid because He's my backyard neighbor He just feet away from my house. Also, he doesn't have a girlfriend, it's all in his mind. Mental health is a serious issue and I hope he can get the help he needs, but creepy neighbor.

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

Me too. Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a better one. Straight forward is better. No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months. Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber, limited availability and select areas, visit ATT.com slash Hypergate for details. In 92-93 I was in my 7th grade year, and it was a tumultuous one.

I had many scary instances, sparing in just a few, short, 9 months. My first romantic relationship ended with him stalking me, and trying to set my best friend's hair on fire. I saw a girl get hit by a car while walking to school. A boy brought his 22 to a home room, threatening his classmates, and the teacher was able to relinquish the boy of his weapon. We were put on lockdown one day because a dad was roaming through the halls, screaming for his son, no longer having any custodial rights over him.

It was crazy to say the least. All of that though has never left me with the question of what happened next. This story however has continued to to scare me even almost 30 years later, and I still harbor a lot of guilt over it. I lived in a small, northeast organ farming town, where everybody knows everybody's business. If you breathe wrong, 10 people know about it before the breath is even fully expelled. If you were just passing through others took notice, and you weren't likely to leave town without someone acknowledging your presence and remembering it. My grandparents owned the local hallmark store, and were in the process of relocating to a new building in our small shopping center.

It was a big move, and had to be done in a few days, so they recruited the help of anyone who was willing. This included my best friend Ceci and her parents, and my family and myself of course. This day, Ceci and I were walking to the store, a distance of maybe two miles, when we decided to make a quick stop at the nearby Dairy Queen. I didn't have much money so I ordered a nice cream cone but she went all out and got herself a cone and a milkshake. Treats in hand we began making our way to our destination. I'm sure we were discussing boys, our annoying teachers, girls who ticked us off. We were probably whining because we had to do work after school, you know, typical teenage girl musings.

We were about a quarter of a mile down the road, when we noticed a truck with a camper attached to the bed. It was parked alongside the road. We both thought that this was an odd place to pull over, as there wasn't a business or any houses nearby. But what did we know? We were kids. We took a few more steps, and that's when we realized that the truck was rocking side to side. We stopped walking and watched for a couple of seconds, thinking at first that someone was just

walking around swiftly in the small camper. The rocking intensified. Being the immature teens that we were, we had that same thought run through our heads at the same time. We looked at each other and giggled softly. That's so gross, CC exclaimed. I know they're in public, can't they go to the river or something? I asked, turning up my nose and discussed. C.C. shook her head whatever, let's keep going. We took a couple more steps, and then we heard the unmistakable sound of a slap which was followed by a female scream, and then terrifying cuss words being flung around from a very angry man. A few more slaps and subsequent thuds afterwards.

By now we knew that we were witnessing something neither of us were prepared for, and we were frozen to the spot. I could feel my heartbeat and my throat and C.C.'s eyes were so wide, I thought that they would pop out of her head. Given her hands were full of the now-forgotten ice cream, I don't know how she did it, but she managed to grip my arm and squeeze it. Thoughts began racing through my head. How is this happening? What is happening? Do I know either of these people? Where did this truck come from?

Do we go get help? Do we scream at them to stop and make our presence known? Or do we stay silent and safe? Also, why is no one driving by right now? Basically, what the hell do we do? I glanced at my horrified friend again and I could see that she was having the same thoughts. That same fear, the same, oh my God, moment. We were just tiny teenage girls.

We had no recourse on how to stop this or how to even intervene. We may have been in the middle of town at this moment, but it felt like a ghost town. She and I were the only two left, and we were now a part of something awful, something that we couldn't help. Cece was the first to move, still grasping my arm. She nudged me forward with a couple of steps, and we silently moved to the back of the truck. This was where the door of the camper was. Each step, my need to vomit increased, and each step felt like a year. That was the longest 10-foot walk I've ever done in my life. We could hear the very quiet sobs from inside the camper, but then silence. Now my eyes widened because the silence was so deafening.

At least this woman was sobbing. We knew she was still breathing. The silence, however, was telling. Somehow I knew she was either unconscious or worse. The timing of what happened next was something out of a horror movie, and I remember it so clearly. The second we reached the back of the camper, the door suddenly flew open and there he was. In the few seconds that he stood there, I took in his appearance. Not a tall man, but very hulking, regardless, heavy set, with large arms, he was balding and wore a dirty,

what used to be white tank top with filthy jeans and worn sneakers. As the sun glinted across the afternoon sky, it also reflected the sweat that poured off of him. If one didn't know better, you'd think he just completed a full body workout, but CC and I did know better. I don't remember his face, though. It's always been blank to me. I don't even know if I looked at it as a good chance that I couldn't. He caught sight of us standing there on the sidewalk, ice cream melting around our fingers, eyes wide with fear, slack jawed and frozen. He sneered and hissed as he began to step down out of the camper. I tried to get even the smallest glimpse of the woman in the camper, but it was pitch black. She was nowhere to be seen.

As he reached the pavement, he yelled, with the fuckery looking at, he little bitches, do you want to be next? ZC and I slowly moved away and turned around. We heard the camper door slam shut, his heavy footsteps walking towards the cab of the truck. We heard the driver's side door open and then shut so hard that it made us both jump as we walked in silence. He turned on the engine, then sped off. As quick as this encounter began, it was over, for us anyway. We were both visibly shaken. It was then that we realized we had to get help somehow. We were now safe, but that woman was not. That much was clear.

The shopping center was in sight. C.C. and I looked at each other once again, and began sprinting as fast as we could towards the hallmark store. Both of our families would be there, surely, they would help us. I was slower than my friend, so from behind her, I saw her chuck the ice cream into a nearby bush so that she could pick up her pace.

I've all had sued and we took off, as fast as our legs could carry us. I knew each second that we lost, but more time and distance for that woman's assailant to get away. When we finally reached the crosswalk to get to the shopping center, both of us doubled over and began crying, talking over one another as we tried to catch our breath. We made that distance in record time, and I know it was only because of our adrenaline, coursing through our shocked systems. My brain reeled from what we had just seen and my body was reacting in flight mode.

Finally, we reached the hallmark, both of us stammering out the horror scene we had just witnessed. As we retold the story, our family's faces went from confusion to shock to disbelief before finally settling on what we did not expect. Doubt. Stop making up stories," my grandmother said. That's not funny. I'm sure you girls were just mistaken, my mom said, and apparent agreement.

Then Cece's mom chimed in. You didn't see what you think you saw. The other adults nodded in agreement and told us to forget about it. That we were wrong and we needed to stay out of other people's business. They carried on with their tasks while Cece and I just stood there hurt, scared and shocked. How could they dismiss us so easily? We were clearly shaken up out of breath and terrified. Did they really think so little of us that we would lie about something so big?

Who does that? We were both furious. There was nothing that we could do, or at least there was nothing that we thought we could do. If our own parents didn't believe us, what would the police think? They would likely side with the adults, call us liars, and they wouldn't investigate anything. For days, weeks and months after the incident, I would constantly check the paper, looking for anything that might point to a missing woman or remains that had been found. for anything that might point to a missing woman or remains that had been found. I never let my parents know that's what I was doing, though. I just said I was reading articles for schoolwork or something. Now, nothing ever came of it. No reports of domestic violence situations or arrests were

made. No mug shot or driver's license pictures released of either person. It was as if it was exactly how our parents said. It never happened. CC and I never spoke of it again to our families, but she and I talked about it for years afterwards. The details for both of us never changed, our story never wavered, and neither did our fear or questions. Three decades later I no longer talk with my friend, we parted ways years ago, but we shared something that I know will stick with us for the rest of our lives. I've tried letting go of the guilt of not doing enough. But it remains, I often wonder what happened to that poor woman, is she safe, did she escape, and if not, if the worst outcome happened to her, where her remains recovered, and was she put to rest, where her loved ones will

no longer question what happened to her, and was this horrible man stopped or did he do this to someone else? If we had forced the issue, could we have changed the outcome? That will forever be my biggest question. So to the terrifying, abusive, piece of shit of a man in that crappy camper that was likely just passing through my small town. I pray you got your come up, Ensign. I hope that we never meet again. 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 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 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. This happened in the summer of 2001. My was 18 years old and my best friend Cara had also turned 18. We lived in a city in Michigan, approximately one hour from the Canadian border. We decided that we were going to cross the border into Canada to see if we could get away with some drinking since the drinking age was 19 there. We tried a few different bars and we were unsuccessful since our IDs didn't say 19 years old.

Finally, we ended up in a hotel bar where we had multiple drinks and were not carted. We hung out there for a few hours and as we were sitting and drinking, this couple sits next to us and begins talking to us. The woman appeared to be approximately mid-30s and her husband or boyfriend was probably early 40s. We talked to them for about an hour or two as we continued to drink. The conversation was just about normal everyday things never anything inappropriate. We've stopped drinking at 11pm in order to sober up for what we thought would be the 2am last call.

Unfortunately, this bar closed its doors at midnight, and by that time we were still drunk and unsafe to drive. The couple sitting next to us said that they lived just down the road and asked if we wanted to come over their house and Play some pool until we sobered up Being young drunk and naive We accepted and headed over to their house with them This was obviously a very bad idea to get into a car with people. We didn't even know in another country

But neither of us thought twice about it. We got into their house and began playing pool and things seemed okay for about the first 10 minutes or so. At one point, I look over at my friend Cara, sitting in a chair near the pool table. The wife sits on her lap and starts trying to kiss her. At that same moment her husband came up behind me and put his hand down my back and started running his hand up and down. It suddenly dawned on me why they had invited us over and that things were about to get very uncomfortable. Kara refused to the woman's advances and pushed her away, resulting in the woman blowing

up immediately and crying. She ran upstairs screaming that we hated her, and we're not attracted to her, and she felt stupid. I told the husband we were not interested and had obviously misread the situation. The husband went upstairs to comfort his wife, who continued to rant and rave and scream. Cara and I went outside to discuss the situation and figure out what we were going to do, as things were becoming very tense. We realized the drive over had been more like 10 miles away, and we had no idea where we

were. It was the middle of the night. We had no cell phones at the time, and we were in a foreign country. The husband opens the front door and starts screaming at us, calling us all kinds of names and telling us that we had led them on. He then said, I should teach you a lesson for upsetting my wife so badly. Your little horrors. We could still hear the wife crying as we were outside, both panicking about this situation now.

We sat outside for approximately 30 minutes as we debated on what we could possibly do. Just as we were deciding to start trying to walk the 10 miles to where we thought the car might be, the husband came out and told us he would give us a ride. We both got in the car and buckled the seat belts. We ran the back, the drive began. He drove approximately 70 miles per hour and a 40 mile per hour zone the entire way. Weaving and rage driving while yelling at us about how horrible we are. He was obviously very drunk as he had continued to drink after we got back to the house,

so we knew we were unsafe with him behind the wheel, but we felt like we had no choice. We sat in the back seat, huddled together holding hands, now crying. When we pulled up to our car, it was the best moment of our lives, and we immediately jumped out, and hugged each other. The man rolled down his window and yelled at us that we were both bitches, then sped off. We sat in the car for about an hour just processing what had happened and calming down. This was a lesson that we learned of the hard way, but it could have been much, much worse. So to the angry drunk Swinger couple, I hope we never meet again. Thanks for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast,

and don't forget if you're looking for the true, paranormal, check out the new episode of my other podcast, OddTrails at OddTrails.com, or wherever you get your podcasts. This week you've referred, Jamie by Kelly, Lady with the Butcher Knife by Whitney, The Fake Accident by Chloe. My Summer Camp Backpacking Trip by Theodora. Creepy Neighbor by a listener that asked to remain anonymous. Camper Man by Shutter Lover. And finally, The Couple by Audra.

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. Don't forget if you're a patron, stick around after the music for your extended version of this week's episode, and if you want to get access to that, as well as ad-free episodes and a bunch of other bonus content and exclusive merchandise head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast or follow the link in the show notes. I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast.

Stay safe! This story involves my dad. When my parents were first married and living in a duplex with newborns, 18T 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?

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Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. Ugh, this wine. I 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 Giga-Gillionaire with AT&T Fiber.

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