Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 9x06: The Woman on the Road - Let's Not Meet

Episode Date: September 12, 2022

Stories in this episode: - The Insurance Man, by Hillary Denman (0:50) - Just Go, by Elizabeth (10:59) - The Woman on the Road, by Caleb Ragan (23:46) - The Sawed-off Shotgun, by abbysomnia (34:08) - The Barking Man, by Monique Sawyer (41:14) - I'm Not Allowed to Date Yet, by Diana (45:09) Extended Patreon Content: - He Took me to the Rat Room, by Lila - Tony, by Park - The Refrigeration Technician, by Abbey - Crazy Old Lady, by Caleb 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! Don't forget to check out this week's episode of my other podcast Odd Trails for your true paranormal fix as well as the first episode of my new podcast the Old Time Radiocast all at crypticcountypodcasts.com. Sign up today and get your first 6 bottles of wine for $39.95 plus free shipping at tryfirstleaf.com/meet. Right now, save up to 55% 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/crypticcounty 

Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals. From courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualized coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development. Online in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. This podcast contains adult language and content.

If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. My name is Andrew Tate, and this is season nine episode six of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. I was a kid that was born in the 80s and raised in the 90s. If you know anything about this time period, you will know the term Latch-key-Kid. The summer that I was 9 or 10 years old, both of my parents were working full time, so I was at home by myself. The rules for staying

home by yourself and our house were, don't answer the door, don't answer the phone, don't use the stove or oven. My summer routine was typical for any young kid stuck at home, sleep late, do chores, watch TV. On this particular day I had already completed the first two so I was lounging on the couch watching TV and snacking. It was probably around one or two in the afternoon when the doorbell rang. I did as I always do. I muted the TV and sat and waited.

Several seconds passed and it rang again. Again, I just sat and waited, though. At this point, I'm expecting the person on the other side of the door to leave. Instead I heard the sound that made my stomach drop. The door knob jiggled. Next, to make the situation worse, I heard the mail slot open. I was frozen to the couch until I heard the slot close. I then ran into the living room, which faced the front of the house, and then did a bear crawl to the very bottom of one of the windows blinds. When I peeked through, I saw a man with a red shirt and khaki pants with dark hair.

The shirt looked like it had a logo on it, but I couldn't make out what it said. The man was parked right in front of the house in a goldish sedan. He didn't immediately start walking back to his car, but instead started walking around the side of the house. I still wasn't that scared because we lived on a corner, and he could be seen easier from the street on that side. I resumed my place on the couch and continued to watch TV on mute until my dog started barking like crazy in the backyard. This wasn't his normal, ooh, I see a squirrel bark. This was his stranger danger bark. I knew this bark well because he did this every time, the yard or trashman came. The back door to the house

was only accessible through the back yard, so in my nine-year-old brain, this meant that the man must be trying to get into the house. At this point, I grabbed the phone. Thank God I had a cordless phone at this time. I ran into my parents' room and locked the door. I immediately called my mom at work. I explained the situation this far, and she asked where he was now. I realized I had no idea. The dog was still going nuts, so I peaked my head out of their room and the man was standing

in the backyard. I silently closed the door and panicked to my mom that he was in the backyard. She told me to go into her bathroom, which also faced the front of the house and see if I could see any details about the car. Our house sat a good 20 yards from the road, so it was really hard for me to make out any details, except for the fact that the trunk was open. This is when the dog stopped barking, and I started hearing creeks in the ceiling. If you have ever lived in an old house,

you'll understand certain places in the house when you step on the floor, make the ceiling creak. It was doing this a lot, though. So I crawled into my mom's bathroom cabinet to hide. I'm now crying, telling her, I think he's in the house. She tells me she has to put me on hold so that she can call my dad. She's at her office. No three-way calling, only separate lines.

I freak out and beg her not to put me on hold, but she says that she has to in order to call him. She promises me that she will only be a minute. That minute felt like an hour. In that minute, all I heard was the creaking intensify and the silence of a line on hold. I was so relieved when my mom finally came back. She told me to get out of the cabinet and watch out of her bathroom window for my dad's car. I sat on the bathroom counter and looked out while my mom stayed on the phone with me trying to keep me calm. It usually took my dad around 10 to 15 minutes to get home, but this time it took him 5.

When I finally saw my dad's car approach, instead of passing the front of the house and pulling into the garage on the side of the house, he took a turn onto our street and pulled right up to the rear end of that man's car. I shouted, Dad's here, into the phone, then hung up. I bolted out of my parents' room and out the front door straight into my dad's arms, all while screaming, daddy. As I ran to him, I noticed the man had started making his way back to his car. My dad picked me up and hugged me then set me down. He looked at me with the look that I don't think I'll ever forget. He put his hand on my shoulder, looked me right in the eye, and said, in a stern voice, go inside." My dad was a quiet man with the big presence, not powerful or intimidating. He just had a

very commanding presence when he entered a room. At this point in my life I don't think I had ever heard him yell, maybe fuss a few times, but he always handled that with conversation, not yelling. I knew exactly what that looked meant. It meant that he was serious, no questions. I turned and started walking back towards the house, and then I heard my dad yell, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I didn't turn around until I reached the door, and when I did I saw that my dad had the man by the collar. He had lifted him up off of the ground. He was now berating him.

I had never seen my dad get physical with anyone before, especially in a business suit. I closed my door, and I could still hear him yelling at the man. He was out there between five and ten minutes, and when he came in, he was calm and the man was gone. My dad explained to me that the man was from our insurance company. Apparently, the creeks that I heard in the ceiling were actually caused by him walking on the roof. A couple of months previous, we had a bad hailstorm that did cause damage to some of the houses in our neighborhood. The man told my dad that he was sent by the insurance agency to check for damage on our roof. He said that he felt bad and he would have never

inspected the house if he knew that I was home alone. My dad asked why the agent would come and inspect if he never called to make a claim. The man said that there had been several claims in the neighborhood and he figured he would just stop by since our address was on a list. My dad asked him about the jiggling of the doorknob and opening of the mail slot. He said he was checking them for damage. The door is under an awning, and when dad mentioned this, he responded that depending on the way that the wind blew,

how could do damage? My dad thought that this was strange, but let it go. Then let the man leave. Later that evening, my dad called our agent, who had two young daughters of his own. He was upset, asking him why on earth, he would send an agent without contacting him first. He explained to him that I was home alone, and that it had traumatized me, thinking that someone was breaking in. The next thing he told my dad will forever stick with me.

The insurance agent said, I don't know what you're talking about. I would never send someone over unless you called me first." My dad was stunned, he asked. And who was at our house today? The agent said that he didn't know. It's been 30 years and I still don't like being at home by myself. I have four dogs, one being a German shepherd, that lives inside the house with my husband and I. It doesn't matter what time of day, especially since this incident happened

in the middle of the day, I just don't like being alone. And I have so many questions, what was he doing? What did he want? Was he trying to break in and rob the place? Did he know that I was there alone, trying to abduct me? I don't know, but I promise to this day I will not answer the door if I'm home alone. My husband and I have a strict, you better call or text before you come, policy. Or we are not answering the door. I guess I'll never know what that man's intentions were, much less where he got the insurance

company shirt from, but fake insurance agent that tried to break into our house while I was home alone. Let's not meet. What's it like to partner with Spectrum Enterprise? It's as if achieving your technology goals where as simple as listening to this podcast. So whether you need to protect your network and data, ensure secure connectivity at all your locations, or implement a managed solution to simplify your security strategy, we'll be there with the resources and support to deliver like no other provider. Because helping you secure your organization is part of what we do best. Visit enterprise.specdrum.com slash iHeart to learn more.

It was the beginning of summer in the northwest, and I was driving in the countryside to take in the colorful shades of new life. Ocean blue sky, laced with feathery clouds stretched out wide, and vibrant trees reached towards the sky. The landscape laid out a blanket of multicolored flowers only the imagination could create. The colors were complemented by farmland grass that grew out in every direction. Behind them was an unending backdrop of hills and forest. It was this drive that I'll never forget.

I took drives like these to enjoy the scenery and take pictures. The sun was almost beginning to set, which meant it was almost golden hour, a time that granted me some of the most amazing shots. I rolled the windows down and let the cool air blow through both directions as I curved through the winding roads. The wind went whipping past me, carrying my worries along with it. I exhaled and breathed in the beauty of the land, admiring the animals' trees and old painted barns that dotted the pastures. Eventually I came upon a spot on a quiet

road where a group of majestic trees waited to frame the falling sun. I eased my car into the gravel off the side of the two lane road. With my windows still down, I took a couple of clicks of the captivating view. Satisfied, I stepped fully into my relaxation and reclined my seat, removing my sandals, and placing my feet on the dash. Next, I took out a joint, sparked it up, and hailed the smoke and the scenery, then exhaled a sigh of relief out the window allowing my stress to drift away. I sat in peace occasionally different vehicles would slow down and look over to ensure that I didn't

need help, and I would wave or nod them on to let them know I was okay. It was so quiet out there that I closed my eyes just to rest. I had just settled into complete peace when I heard another engine approaching. Opening my eyes, I saw a shiny new truck pulling up on the approaching lane of the road. The driver was a clean cut young man in a baseball hat and a white t-shirt with his arm hanging over and resting on the window. Something about him though made me uneasy. I smiled quickly and nodded to let him know that I was fine. He called out anyway. Are you good? I waved a peace sign at him, and again nodded a yes.

I felt relief when he finally said okay and his truck continued. Except that it didn't move on. He pulled in behind me, nearly hitting my bumper, revved the gas, and then shifted his truck into reverse. An eruption of gravel, and dust ensued, pelting and pinging off the back of my window. I froze, eyes glued to my rear view, then just as quickly as he had started. He whipped his truck back onto the pavement and roared away, honking and yelling, laughing nonsense out the window at me as he rounded the corner, followed by the gigantic American flag whipping out

in the wind as he sped off into the distance. I sat there for a moment stunned that someone could do such dirty thing to a random stranger with no explanation for why. Anger snapped me back into reality. Fear told me, I needed to leave now. But before I could finish my thoughts and turn the key, the truck was back. The guy must have known the area because he had somehow circled back to me in what felt like seconds.

I wouldn't he just leave me alone. He slammed to his stop in the middle of the road and then jumped out. While I scrambled to get my sandals back on, and my hands were shaking to cooperate, I watched, with pure panic, as he reached into the back of his truck and pulled something out. From his posture, it looked like it was something big. Maybe a shotgun. I don't know. What do you want?" I screamed. I said that I was fine, leave me alone. His lip curled into a smirk. No, you didn't. You told me to fuck off," he said. He grasped the thing that he was hauling out of his truck, so large in cumbersome, it took all of his strength to balance it.

I slammed my car in to drive, my tires desperately trying to grab the pavement, but it was too late. He then hurled this thing into my windshield, directly in front of me. I raised my arms bracing for the glass to shatter with the weight of whatever it was. Through covered eyes I saw it coming. First, the eyeballs, then the huge horns piercing the glass. A decapitated rotting bull's head smashed into my windshield. Spiderman webs of broken lines spread from the holes that the horn had left in the glass, as the rotting head rolled off and smacked onto the pavement with the thud as I sped away.

I flipped from fearful to furious. I looked back and began screaming my attacker's license plate number at him repeatedly. I wanted him to know that I was going to try to get retribution, somehow. Simultaneously, he jumped back into his truck, laughing maniacally and shouting back that he didn't care. I pulled away as fast as I could in one direction. He was screeching away in the opposite, hollering and still laughing, rocks and dust left flying behind.

Once my car was stable with both tires on the road, I flew across the scenery, slowing only slightly around curves. I was filled with rage and completely disoriented. Boiling, angry tears began to stream down my face. I imagined turning around and driving as fast as I could so that I could follow that truck, learning where he lived so that I could report that too. I knew this wasn't safe and ultimately a bad idea, but the anger in me wanted to know where he lived.

Then I thought, my dad, I knew my dad would take care of this, I pictured going back to that location, and I would wait as bait while my dad watched from a distance. We would handle this shit ourselves, when the guy returned once more to show him how it felt to be afraid. Unsure sure of what to do next. I thought about calling the non-emergency police to report it, or should I call 911? That guy seemed to be so out of control that I was now truly afraid of what he would do to the next person he encountered. Who the fuck throws a rotting bull's head at someone anyway?

How does a person even think of that? As I processed a little further, I realized that the plate number I had memorized was from a different state. My heart sank as I realized that the local police would not be swift to act on a license plate that wasn't easily searchable in their database. A cold my dad, he listened as I explained what had just occurred, and he was surprisingly quiet. This wasn't what I expected.

I expected that he would be filled with the same rage boiling inside of me. Instead, he responded, I'm so glad that you're okay, honey. This could have been so much worse. Hearing my dad talk to me as his child put into perspective how human I am and the danger I had been in. What if he had pulled a shotgun out of the back of his truck instead?

I was in the middle of nowhere with no witnesses. Who knows what could have happened. His voice of concern transformed my anger all over again. I burst into tears, and they wouldn't stop, all the while, driving like a maniac. I was afraid to pull over anywhere for fear that he might follow me. The shattered glass funneled the wind in all over, shrieking at me as I sped on, the high-pitched echoing of my nerves as they screeched for help. Now back on the main road, every large truck or loud engine that drove by instantly made

me panic, afraid that it was him again. He made his way back to me before. What would stop him from doing it again? Once back in the city, I pulled over on a residential street, and I safely called the non-emergency police. I reported what had happened and gave them all the information that I had. The officer was very confused when I explained what the man had thrown at me. He had never heard of such a thing in all his years. Just as I had expected, the officer told me the out-of-state license plate would make it pretty difficult to track this person down and therefore to question him. He said he was likely a hired

farmhand, here for the summer, only, and therefore did not need to register his plates in our state. I pressed that there couldn't be too many trucks matching that description in the area, especially out in the sparse country, but that didn't seem to help. He said that while they were on patrol, they would keep their eyes out for a vehicle matching the description. He again told me he had never heard of someone doing such a thing. So to the cruel and creepy dude in the truck, let's not meet because if we do, you'll be the one with the nightmares when it's over. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualized coaching services, to programs that hone your leadership skills and business acumen.

Management concepts optimizes your professional development, online in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com. So I've been wanting to tell this story for a long time. My brother and I have always been quite intrigued with horror as well as the paranormal.

I had just gotten a new camera and wanted to go night exploring at haunted areas and graveyards to see if we could capture anything unexplainable. I'm a believer in ghosts, and both my brother and I have had some pretty crazy experiences, so we thought that it would be a lot of fun to go out and make a night of it. On this particular night, we realized it wasn't ghosts, but rather people that are the most horrifying. Luke and I were driving in his car, somewhere around 9pm through the dark back roads of our smaller town in upstate South Carolina. We were on our way when we passed a car that was pulled over on the side of the road.

I didn't even notice what was going on until Luke said, did you see that? I had not, since I was more focused on my camera and the ideas of where we were going and what we were going to find. I replied, no, what are you talking about? By that time, Luke had pulled a U-turn and then pulled over on the side of the road. Even with the windows up, we could hear the shouting. A man, probably in his 50s, was screaming and throwing his hands all around a woman, also in their 50s, cussing her out. He kicked her out of his car, sped off, and she was left there, crying. Luke and I pulled up to the woman, let the windows down and simply asked if she was okay or needed us to call anyone, seeing as her husband and

ride just took off. She's in the dark, miles away from the nearest gas station or store. Before we even knew it, the woman had gotten into the back seat of our car. She didn't even ask, she just jumped in. She was now hyperventilating and begging us to drive her somewhere safe so that she could call her son. Luke and I absolutely did not like this idea. We've heard stories about Hitchhiker's gone wrong, and quite frankly, trusting anyone that you don't know nowadays, is almost always a risk. But we decided that we would take her down the road at least two or three miles to a local gas station. Luke knew that we were sketched out, so he cut the interior

lights on and adjusted his mirror so that he would have eyes on her constantly, just in case she tried to pull a stunt. I personally had this bad feeling that she was someone with a weapon on her. I was going to get stabbed in the neck or a gun drawn on me. Thank God she didn't. About five minutes later, we made it to the gas station. The woman was already on the phone with her son at this point, explaining that her husband had become irate over something and was beating her, then dropped her off in the middle of nowhere. That's when she got a ride from us, but needed to know where he could pick her up at. Luke told me to stay in the car with

her, and that he was going inside to grab a pack of cigarettes. Now I'm in the front seat, texting my wife the situation, telling her that if she doesn't get updates from me every 10 minutes, to get my location on, find my phone, and call the police. The next thing I hear is the woman in the back seat. She dropped her phone and was panicking while covering herself up with my brother's clothes that were in the back seat. I had no idea what the actual fuck was happening, but before I could even ask, she said,

he's here. I looked to my left to see an old white beat up jeep, the same one we had seen earlier, parked directly next to us at the gas station. She was using the clothes to cover herself up so that he couldn't hear her. That's when I knew that this shit was real, and everything that she had said about that night really happened. You can't fake that kind of fear that she had, that shaky voice, the hyperventilating, and the begging me to hide her and cut the lights off. I was shaking but I told her everything's going to be okay.

I look over and I see him sitting there in his car. A tall man, skinny build, white beard growing from his chin, and an old American flag rag on his head illuminated by the cigarette that he was smoking, and the light of his illuminated cell phone. He was talking to someone but I couldn't make it out. He never looked at me directly, but he was looking all around, trying to find her obviously. Luke gets back in the car, sees me staring forward, saying,

don't look. Put the car in reverse and let's go. Her husband just pulled in right next to us. He plays it cool, puts it in reverse and we start off in the opposite direction of our house. The man doesn't follow, that we see, and the woman is now setting up a place for her son's best friend to pick her up. We drive for about 15 minutes to the dollar general in a place called Pumpkin Town. For those 15 minutes, she's telling us what happened, why she was so scared of him, and just repeatedly thanking us.

We finally got to the store, which had just closed, and we parked in the otherwise empty parking lot. Lights were on, so it felt pretty safe. We got out of the car so that Luke could smoke. She gets out with us and stands by us waiting for her ride. A truck pulls behind us and parks next to us, which we thought was a bit odd, seeing as the store was closed and the lot was empty.

The man driving it was on his phone with someone, and we heard it play through his Bluetooth speakers to this day I swear that he said, yeah man I see her she's here. Not even five minutes go by before she dives back into the car panicking. We look over at the four-way stop by that dollar general. And who do we see? But her husband. How the fuck did he follow us?

He didn't leave when we left. We had a solid 15 minutes on him. Luke and I looked at each other and asked, did he see us? Before he could respond, the white Jeep made a right turn and pulled into the parking lot. In the one space that is directly next to the exit, almost boxing us in, seeing as we were parked in front of the store. The guy in the truck left, leaving only us and the husband.

Luke gets out and then stands at his door facing me. I'm looking at him while watching that man, making sure that he's not pulling up on us. We tell the woman to stay in the car and call her son's friend now to see where he is. Luke hands me one of his bigger pocket knives and then grabs one for himself. He looks at me. We share this look. That unspoken look that says, I love you no matter what happens, we are in this together. I'll never forget that look or the heart-seeking moment that we both had. We were about to be attacked or even shot or killed over trying to do the right thing. about to be attacked or even shot or killed over trying to do the right thing. And then as if we were in a goddamn cliche horror movie, the lights in the parking lot

cut off. Pitch black. Now the only lights are our headlights, the inside lights, and that man's cigarette flicking ash outside of his car. In that moment, I saw my brother's face go white, same as mine. We were sure this was it. Luke being the smart one said, if you see anything, you get in the fucking car and we're leaving and calling the police.

Then, in the middle of the slowest minute of my life, while I'm clinging my knife, thinking that I'm about to go down fighting alongside my brother, the lights come back on. I have no idea why. They were on a timer and clearly went off, so why did they come back on? It feels like somebody was looking out for us. That same minute, her ride shows up and the husband takes off. The relief on that woman's face is something that I'll never forget. She had been on flight mode for almost an hour, and finally, she could let her guard down

knowing that she was safe. Her son's friend gets out, hugs her, and then looks at both of us, and shakes our hands, thanking us over and over, explaining how bad it's been. She hugs us, and tells us something that I'll never forget. She said that we were her guardian angels. She didn't know what could have happened to her if not for us and then thanked us. To this day, even writing this now three years later, that moment gives me peace. The

only thing that I wish I knew is how she is now. Did she make it away from that man? I can only hope that she did and that she's living a happier life, a safer life. To our passenger that night, for some reason, if you're hearing this, I hope you're okay and I hope you're alive, safe and happier. To my brother Luke, I love you and I'm so thankful that we made it out of there okay. And to you, the wife beating piece of shit, let's not meet again. I have a younger brother, who was in a travel baseball league, and one of the main events happened in Florida in March. My birthday is Marchth, and when I was turning 16, my parents decided that I was old enough to take care of myself for a few days while they went to Florida.

The whole house to myself for my birthday? I was ecstatic. Now for context, we lived in an incredibly tight-knit neighborhood. This was back in the day where you knew all your neighbors' names, and they were almost always invited to our family's parties in vice versa. So my parents warned me that every single one of our neighbors was going to be keeping an eye on the house, and would check in on me from time to time to make sure that I wasn't having any wild parties.

I don't care at all. I was just happy to be trusted alone. The day after they left, I began getting the house ready for my sneaky party when I had this weird feeling that I was being watched. It was the middle of the day, so I wasn't too concerned, but I decided to look out the living room window anyways. I noticed my friend's dad will call him John. He was walking on the sidewalk, but he was walking erratically. I saw that he was shouting, and that he was holding something. For more context, I was very close with John's daughter, and my brother was very close with his son. We frequently had sleepovers. Our families would go camping together, etc. I couldn't,

and still can't put my finger on it. But John has always made me uncomfortable. Years later, my brother and I would discuss this, and I found that John made him uncomfortable as well. He was always nice, and never made any threats or anything, but it was his overall vibe, something was always off. My eyes focused on John and I realized that he was holding a shotgun, a sawdoth shotgun. I was frozen. I could not move until I saw him round the corner. I immediately grabbed my phone and called my parents to tell them what was going on. My mom answered and told me

that I had to be seeing things because John would never do that. We both waited for him to come back, but he didn't. So I told her, you're probably right." I then hung up. Seconds later, he came running back up the sidewalk, screaming wildly, and pointing his shock on in every house that he ran by. I should have called the cops, I should have hidden, but I stood there at the front window stunned. He suddenly stopped and then slowly turned around, like he was a villain in a horror movie. He saw me. He just stared at me.

I saw the smile crawl across his face as he aimed the shotgun directly at me. I gasped, and I tried to move or run away, but I was still frozen in fear. I heard a loud noise and assumed that he had fired at me. I closed my eyes, preparing for death, when I heard more noises. I opened my eyes, and I saw that a SWAT team had flunk into the neighborhood and was now driving over curbs and surrounding him. He looked around at them, and then back at me before he took off running. For the rest of the day, I was trapped in my house, no clue what was going on. Before the night was over, there was a knock at my door.

I peeked through the window and I saw that it was a SWAT member with a bunch of police officers. I instantly ran to the door and they told me what had happened. John had missed a couple of mortgage payments and had mixed booze and heroin, then flew off the rails. He was holding his family hostage in the garage and was looking to take the blame out on someone else, anyone who crossed his path. They had him locked up, his family was somewhere safe. They said that they were going to be letting the neighbors know what had happened, but they wanted to let me know in particular that they were going to have police guarding my house

for the rest of the night. When I asked why, they simply said, he knew that your parents were out of town. So John, my old neighbor, I really, really hope that we never meet again. What-ings are a celebration of finding the perfect fit, and with Indochino, you can design a custom suit made to your measurements. Go to INDOCHINO.com and use code podcast for 10% off any order of 399 or more. Back when I was 19 years old in 2012, I was trying to support myself by working two jobs. Since I didn't have a car, I had to take shifts that were sometimes less than desirable so that I could have enough time to walk to and from each job daily.

One of these jobs had me working until 2 a.m. at which I would walk the 30 minutes home. It sounds like a terrible idea looking back on it, but at the time I was just desperate to make my rent and college tuition. One night, after getting off of work at around 2.15, I noticed that my ankle was pretty sore and decided to take it slow getting back home. I took this time to enjoy the quiet of the town at this hour since I knew that my walk would be a bit longer.

But because of this quiet, I heard what sounded like an animal running behind me. I looked around but figured that it was just a raccoon since I didn't see anything. A few minutes later, after turning down one of those long streets that I walk. I heard that sound again, but a little louder. I turned on the phone flashlight and looked around but I didn't see anyone. Everything was quiet again so I kind of laughed to myself that I was letting Raccoons scare me. So I kept walking. But then I heard something that still gives me goose bumps when I think about it 10 years later. I hear barking, but not a dog barking.

It was very much the sound of a human being barking like a dog. This person was barking and it sounded like it was getting closer. It was coming from the direction of the train tracks. I immediately started walking as fast as I could, thinking that if I ran, I might hurt my ankle and then I might not really be able to get out of the area. As I tried to calm down, just thinking that it was someone playing a prank on me, As I tried to calm down, just thinking that it was someone playing a prank on me, I then saw what looked like a person on all fours, clumsily running at me in the dark. I stood in complete horror for a moment, and then they started barking loudly and running

faster. I screamed, and I ran down the street as fast as I could. A sharp pain came from my ankle so I stopped, and I took a breath while looking back to see this person. Still on all fours standing in the middle of the street in the dark, just their outline showing. They then slowly crawled away, back into the dark of the side of the street. I took this opportunity to run home as fast as I could. I finally got to my porch and took a breath as I sat there crying. I got up to my room and texted a friend, then tried to get some rest. Over the years, while telling this story, I often

get asked why I didn't call someone, call the police, or bang on the door for help. The truth is that I was so scared in that moment those thoughts didn't even cross my mind. Before that incident, I was one of those people who always thought that I had a plan in case anything happened. But when I was in the moment, all I could think about was getting home. So barking stranger, let's not meet again. There was a typical day in Central Wisconsin. I had finally been given the privilege of staying home alone a year or so before. We had pretty strict rules when staying home alone at my house. My mom believed in stranger danger, having been a childhood survivor of abuse herself.

She made sure that I wasn't clueless as to the real-life threats adults could pose against children. Before going to elementary school, my mother made sure that my brother and I knew how to break out of an adult's grasp. It was more important to her than making sure that the lunches were packed. At 13, I was a responsible nerd, shy, and curious by nature, though not always suspicious. The following event became my first real lesson in learning to trust my gut. I had returned from school shortly before a knock at the door startled me out of whatever book I had returned from school shortly before a knock at the door startled me out of whatever book I had been reading. I wasn't expecting anyone, and my mother and older brother were not home.

I went to the front door and promptly decided not to follow any of my mother's rules. I don't even know why I answered the door at all. Looking back some 20 years since, I can only assume I must have thought that nothing bad could happen to me at that time. Nyeeve, I know. I opened the door and saw a man around 28 years old wearing a baseball cap and a sweatshirt. I didn't recognize him. He was a scruffy face to guy with tired looking red-lined eyes that looked down at me with a silent, angry possessiveness that I still haven't forgotten. I immediately regretted opening that door. He hadn't even spoken a word and

my stomach turned to stone. I suddenly felt like I was in danger. I knew it. I can't explain why I felt like this. Only that my intuition was telling me something my experience couldn't possibly have known. Hey, he said, are your parents home? Every single lie fell out of my head like rain from the clouds. As I stupidly said, Not right now, no. I remember thinking my mom's car wasn't in the driveway, so this stranger had to have known or suspected that she wasn't home.

I wondered what else he knew. I waited for him to speak. I wondered what else he knew. I waited for him to speak. He looked me up and down, full of this tense hunger. It was perhaps the first time a man had ever looked at me like that, let alone a boy, my own age." He said, wow, do you have a boyfriend? You're beautiful. Now, I have to tell you, at the time, I didn't think I was beautiful. So I took this as even more proof that this guy wasn't to be trusted. I was 13 years old full of hormones and low self-esteem. I hadn't figured out that whole cute girl in middle school aesthetic. Most of my peers had already mastered. I was more interested in playing video games than doing my hair and putting on makeup. That isn't

to say that attention from boys my age made me feel uncomfortable. One of my best friends at the time was a boy, and my older brothers' friends were always nice and appropriate with me. But romantic attention or sexual attention wasn't on my radar yet. Attention from grown men was all together a different kind of mystery. I didn't understand it, what it felt like, or sounded like, because it just wasn't something that happened to me yet. So, this man telling me that I was beautiful or inquiring about my relationship status

was brand new territory for me. I didn't like it. I knew that something wasn't right. My immediate purpose became to find a way to get him out of my doorway. My gut told me to be nice, and by now my hand said started shaking. I couldn't get those shivers to stop. And I'm sure that he noticed. Finally finding my voice, I said something along the lines of, I'm not allowed to date

yet. I smiled at him as an attempt to get him to see how young I was, I still could not believe a full-grown man would actually want anything to do with me. Maybe he thought I was in high school or something. I kept wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, which just goes to show how young I really was. Now, at 33, I know just what people are capable of, and precisely what this man could have done. He looked me up and down again, and I hated the feeling of him tracing me with his eyes, like I was some kind of elegant painting on a wall. Being admired by him felt wrong.

He placed his hand on the doorframe, and I thought, oh no. I wanted nothing more than to close the door in his face, but now, with his hand there, I wouldn't be able to. I thought about closing the door on his hand anyway, that maybe it could hurt him. But there was no way I was strong strong enough and maybe I was just too nice to hurt him In a situation like this when your whole body is telling you that your end-anger being nice isn't always going to be helpful But most girls are taught to be nice to adults, especially adult men I feared that if I needed to be mean or fight, I wouldn't have the guts to do it. So while I worked up the courage to fight this man, I decided

to try and keep the conversation going. Can I help you with anything? Why are you here? I asked as sweetly as I could. My brother-in-law died suddenly, and now my sister and her kids have to sell their home. That's why I told my husband we could not put off getting life insurance any longer. An agent offered us a 10-year, $500,000 policy for nearly $50 a month. Then we called Select Quote. Select Quote found us identical coverage for only $19 a month, a savings of $369 a year. Whether you need a $500,000 policy or a $5 million policy, select Quote could save you

more than 50% on term life insurance. For your free quote, go to selectquote.com. Select Quote.com. That's selectquote.com. Select Quote. We shop. You save. select quote dot com that select quote dot com select quote we shop you save full details on example policies at select quote dot com slash commercials. He gave me some bullshit response about being there to do the lawn.

I'm not sure what was said. I'm sure that whatever he said was a lie. My gut told me not to believe a word that he said, by now my whole body was shaking. He never mentioned it, even though I knew that he could see it, and he knew that I was afraid. And I was, but I was also angry at him. That's when I decided that I was not going down without a fight. I was resolved to defend myself. And this, my friends, is why my cat decided to intervene on my behalf. My cat Katie and I had grown up together.

She was always trying to get out of the house. So whenever the door was opened, she was never far behind. I had totally forgotten about her proclivity for outdoor exploration during my sheer panic at having some stranger at my door. I was trying so hard to see me at ease and cool. All of my energy was going to acting nice and clueless. In these short minutes, since this stranger had come to my door, my gut had become my new best friend. Be nice and wait for now.

It told me. Suddenly Katie approaching the scene gave me a fantastic idea. If I let her slip out, I'd have a great excuse to either leave or make him leave. It wasn't as clear a plan as X marks the spot, but I knew that it was an opportunity. Ah, man, I said. My cat is trying to sneak past you. Would you be able to help me grab her? If I could make him an accomplice, maybe a kinship would be formed, and this stranger wouldn't want to hurt me. Or at the very least, he'd move his hand from the door, and I could close it. The ladder seemed more likely to me. He mumbled something, and reached down to grab her. Katie wasn't

friendly to strangers and hissed at his touch. Me too, girl, I thought. He said, fuck, I'm so allergic to cats. He passed Katie into my welcoming hands. I tried very hard not to let his skin touch me. He was suddenly red faced and his eyes were tearing up. I couldn't believe my luck. Oh, well thanks for your help. Sorry about the cat, I said. I didn't give him a chance to say another word. I closed the door and locked it. I put Katie down, then ran into the kitchen to get the biggest knife out of the block holder. I ran into the bedroom that overlooked

the front yard holding the knife, and visible from the window, I watched him get into an old truck and drive away. He had no a lot of equipment with him. I didn't stop shaking for a long time. I kept thinking that he had no a lot of equipment, but he said that he was there to do the lawn. Over and over, the thought raced through my mind. I held the knife, clutched in my hand until my older brother got home from school. Ready to fight in case that strange man came back? I never told my mom I didn't want to get in trouble. Some 20 years later, she still doesn't know.

Anyway, my cat definitely saved my life, even though she's been dead for 10 years I miss her, and I am forever grateful that she chose that exact moment to try and escape from the house. I'm not sure what would have happened if she had it, but I know it had nothing to do with the lawn. So to the man who wasn't a landscaper, let's not meet. Thanks everyone for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. Don't forget to stick around after the music if you're a patron, if you're ad-free,

extended version of this week's episode, as we can you have heard. The Insurance Man by Hillary Denman. Just Go by Elizabeth. The Woman on the Road by Caleb Reagan. The Barking Man by Monique Sawyer, and finally, I'm not allowed to date yet by Diana. 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 of the message boards online. As always, if you have a story to share, make sure you send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Don't forget to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts, odd trails, my true paranormal podcast, and the old time radio cast. We missed an episode last week

because I was in the middle of moving, but I'll make sure I get that old time radio cast out to you today to make up for it. I'm really excited about this one. Been waiting a while to share this show with you. It's a good one. Anyways, we'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. Stay safe. I'm a graduate student at a research university studying cancer biologist.

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Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualized coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business acumen. Management concepts optimizes your professional development. Online in-person, individually, or groups. It's training that's measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com.

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