Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Work As A Truck Driver. This Was The SCARIEST Night Of My Life | Scary Stories

Episode Date: June 3, 2024

You won't believe what happened. Story from Horror_writer_1717 Make sure to check out more of their work at Horror_writer_1717  Cover Art from Nicholas Maxson-Francombe Original Post: I'm a truck driver and roadkill can be much more dangerous than you think. : r/nosleep       Original YouTube link: I Work As A Truck Driver. This Was The SCARIEST Night Of My Life     Merch: lighthousehorror.com  For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

Your truck breaks down at night in the middle of nowhere, and your phone is dead. Do you A, walk to the nearest house and ask to use their phone. B, lock your door and stay in the truck until the sun comes back up? Or C, take a dark path through the woods. It might be a shortcut. Here's the story. I lay on a table next to a roaring fire. My hands were bound, and I was surrounded by figures and black robes.

The beautiful young woman approached me. holding a nasty-looking knife encrusted with jewels. Please don't do this, I said. She flashed a wicked grin and raised the knife over me, holding her breath for a moment, before she plunged it toward my chest. Twelve hours earlier, I'd never been a big fan of trucks. Why I drove one for a living was beyond me. I think it started out like so many other things. You just think you'll do it for a while, and the next thing you know, ten years have passed and you're still doing the same thing.

If this story was just about letting time slip away, because I was too scared or too complacent to make a change, this would be a very boring story indeed. But it is not. There are many people who see things they shouldn't, or more to the point, who see things they wish they hadn't. Most of these people make a choice to bury the forbidden memory deep in their subconscious, and never think of it again. They cope through any number of methods, including drugs, alcohol, or other means. If they can't cope with it, they leave a note, a grieving family. And a lot of questions. One of the reasons they choose not to tell anyone about their experience is being labeled Crackpot, conspiracy theorist, lunatic. Those are some of the nicer things these unfortunate souls get called.

Then there's the censoring and blacklisting. Oh, it's all very subtle, so as not to be discovered. But that doesn't make it any less real. My story started on a bright, sunny day when it seemed like nothing could possibly go wrong. That should have been my first clue. But how could I have expected any less? Driving down the country road with a window down, the sun shining, a balmy 80 degrees outside, the music blaring from the radio as I sing along.

desperately trying to stay in key. The fields were full of vegetables in their prime growing cycle. It was like everything was perfect for that one moment. I just wish that moment could have lasted. When my front passenger's side tire blew, my good feelings were shattered. I went ten rounds with the steering wheel, trying to keep the truck on the road, but it was futile. Finally, having no other option. I yank the wheel hard toward the left.

teetered on the edge of balance for a moment before the wheel bit into the asphalt. Going 55 when the wheel dug in was catastrophic. The truck suddenly turned into a gymnast doing a routine on the mat. Fortunately, I'd already delivered my parts for the day. If not, I would have worried about a drive shaft or a transmission flying through the plywood wall that separates the cab from the back of the box truck and turning me into a bloody pancake. I think I had enough to worry about as the truck flew through the air, taking me with it. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the truck's momentum turned it sideways and started it rolling. I had no idea how many times it flipped. I just knew how hard I was praying and how tightly I gripped the steering wheel.

When it finally stopped and settled, the truck was sitting back on its wheels. I thanked God for small favors and for keeping me safe. I won't say I went unhurt. When you're flipping through the air, everything in the cab becomes a missile. I got hit by my water bottle, my bag of potato chips, my phone, even my lunchbox tagged me a couple times. I was sure I would have bruises when I got home. After the truck settled, I turned off the engine, unbuckled my seatbelt, and slowly climbed out of the cab. My first few steps were tentative, making sure everything worked and nothing was broken. After I stretched and felt around for injuries, I took a slow lap around the truck. Three of the four tires were flat, with the rear driver's side being the only holdout.

There was dripping coming from underneath that seemed like different liquids mixed together. I decided it would be a good idea to get whatever I was going to salvage out of the cab quickly, just in case one of those liquids happened to be gasoline. I grabbed everything I could and went down the road 50 yards or so before setting the arm full of stuff down on the berm. I sat down in the grass along the road, and looked at the road, and looked at the truck. I could see the top had been bent. It looked comical, as if it was leaning over and needed help to stand up straight. Thinking of that reminded me I needed help. The road wasn't very well traveled. It was a two-lane country road I'd been driving on for nearly

an hour, and I hadn't passed more than a handful of cars. I dug through my pile of rescued items and found my phone. I really wish I hadn't. The screen was splintered. I tried to turn it on, but it was no use. I wouldn't be calling anyone with it ever again. I looked up the road and down, but all I could see were endless miles of corn growing in the field. I hadn't seen a house for a while, so I decided I would walk in the direction I'd been going. I gathered what was useful and stowed it in my pockets. The rest went in my lunchbox, and off I went, looking every bit like a kid walking home from school. The walk worked the stiffness out of my limbs and revealed whatever injuries I had were minor. It'd been twenty minutes, and I was beginning to wonder if anyone lived on

this road when out of nowhere a house appeared. It looked old and run down, but it was better than nothing. I turned up the long driveway, hoping the residents were friendly, and I wasn't about to have my torso redecorated with buckshot. Just then I passed a no trespassing sign nailed to a tree beside the driveway. I hesitated and considered turning back to look for the next house. When I saw a man coming towards me on a tractor, it was already too late. He pulled up beside me and killed the engine. He was big, wearing overalls, which he filled with a belly, but I could see bulging arms from a lifetime of hard work. His silent stare made me feel the most uncomfortable I had in a long time. Afternoon, I said, waiting for some response. He continued

staring as if I were some alien being that had wandered onto his property. I had a little accident back up the road a couple miles. I was wondering if I could use your phone to call a tow truck. He leaned over and split off the side of the tractor. That's so, he said. Yeah, yeah, unfortunately, I replied. A tire blew out on me and I lost control. Huh.

He said. He eyed me up and down, making me feel more than a little uncomfortable, then started the tractor and turned it back towards the house without a word. Since I was still alive and hadn't heard any banjos playing, I decided this was his idea of a yes. I followed along behind the tractor as we headed towards the house. Not once did he look back to see if I was following. When he got to the front of the house, he yelled inside.

Darling! Immediately, an overweight, middle-aged woman appeared in the doorway, wearing a ragged dress with an apron over it. This fella says he was in an accident down the road, he needs to call a tow truck, the man said. But the phone, she started, but was instantly silenced by a glare from the man. She hung her head. She'll show you where the phone is, the man told me.

Then he drove away on the tractor. I'm sorry for any inconvenience, ma'am. I said, It's no trouble, she said, looking up but not meeting my eyes. The phone's in here. She stepped inside and held the door open for me to follow. The inside of the house was a stark contrast to the outside. It was clean and very well kept. I was surprised to see the portraits hanging on the wall had no dust on them at all.

She led me down a hallway that ended in an amazing. Immaculate Kitchen. It was like someone had dropped it here straight out of a 50s TV show. I was so busy taking in the pristine condition of the room that I completely missed the phone hanging on the wall. She turned and pointed it out to me. I reached for it, but wiped off my hands before picking it up so I wouldn't leave any marks. When I put it up to my ear, I heard a strange sound I couldn't identify, but no dial tone. I clicked the receiver a few times, but still none. It's not working, I said. She took the phone from me and tried to use it, but was unsuccessful as well.

I apologize, she said, gently hanging the phone back on its cradle. Storm must have knocked it out. What storm? I said. She hesitated. We had a storm last night and lost power. She said, avoiding my eyes, must have taken out the phones as well. Well, you didn't know about this before?"

Well, we don't use the phone much," she said. If you hadn't come, I might not have known about it until tomorrow or the next day. Huh, I said. I can't imagine going days without using my phone. I mean, we don't really have that many people to call, she replied, twisting her apron into a knot. You know what, maybe I should try another house. I said.

Their phone might be working. I doubt it, she said. But you're welcome to try. Our nearest neighbor is three miles down the road. The thought of walking another three miles held no appeal to me. But if their phone was working and I could get a ride out of here, it'd be worth it. There was something odd going on here, and I didn't want to be part of it. In the back of my mind, the banjo players were tuning up.

That's fine, I said. Would you mind if I use your bathroom before I go?" Oh, no, not at all," she said, brightening. It's the second door on your left. Her sudden mood swing gave me the distinct impression she didn't want me here. I had no desire to be any place I'm not wanted, so no problem to me. I stepped into the bathroom and was once again impressed by the pristine nature of everything in the room.

I felt almost sacrilegious being in there. When I was done, I washed my hands. And as I glanced in the mirror, I saw a shadow move from the window behind me. I'd swear someone had just been looking in. I dried my hands and tried to put the towel back exactly where it was before exiting the room. I stepped out and nearly ran into the man. Did you make your call? He said.

I couldn't. Phone's not working. Huh. He said. He said, I was going to walk down to your neighbor's house and see if maybe their phone's working. It won't, he said. How do you know that? Well, phones are all in the same line. If one goes down, they all go down.

Why not stay here for a while and try again later? There was something wrong with his face. And suddenly I realized he was trying to smile. The problem was it came across as super creepy. The other problem was I had no reason not to wait here. No reason I could put my finger on. No reason, except the creeping suspicion in the back of my mind that something wasn't right here.

But how do I tell that to a farmer that looks like he could bend me into a pretzel? Yeah, yeah, sure. I'll stick around for a bit. I said wearing my friendliest smile. We went back into the kitchen. His wife seemed startled to see me return. She seemed even more startled to see her husband smiling. I sat in a chair at the table.

Okay, I thought, just sit here and take a break. Don't make eye contact and whatever you do, don't accept any... Would you like a drink? He said, Sure, I replied before I could think of a way out of it. The woman brought over a glass of water, and I tried just to sip it, but it was so nice and cold, you know. I hadn't drank anything in a while and didn't realize how thirsty I was.

I downed it in one go. At least I kept enough self-control that I didn't give it big. Ah, at the end. I sat the glass down on the table. Would you like another? No, no, thank you. I was just thirsty from walking. What do you deliver with your truck?"

The man said. Oh, uh, car parts, I replied. I delivered to local repair shops. They both wore the polite, isn't that interesting luck. They told me it wasn't interesting to them at all. Darlene rose from her seat. Well, I should be starting supper, she said. Would you like to stay and have supper with us?

Oh, no, no, no, I don't want to trouble you. I said. It's no. trouble, the man replied. I really should be going. Where? He said. Look, why don't you have supper with us and you can try the phone again after, huh?

That sounds great, but... But we're not good enough for you to spend time with, huh? No, no, no, that's not at all what I was going to say. I stood there. His glare burning through me. Of course. Of course I'll stay for supper," I said. His hardened facial expression melted into a smile.

Great, he said, I'll go wash up in the upstairs bathroom and you can use the one down here. I smiled, but my mind was screaming. What did I get myself into? I followed him out of the kitchen and went into the bathroom while he went upstairs. I could hear the steps creaking under his weight as he ascended. I stood there holding the bathroom door, looking at my escape, the front door a handful of steps away. But where would I go?

Back out on the road where he could easily find me? Maybe I could flag down a passing car before he knew I was gone. But then again, who knew when a car would go by? This wasn't exactly the interstate. In the end, I gave up and went into the bathroom to wash up, not knowing exactly what that meant other than washing my hands, I decided to wash my face too just in case. As I dried my face, I saw the shadow in the window again. I tried to play it cool and put the towel back on the rack, then slid over towards

the window and darted toward it. The shadow was too quick and disappeared before I could get a look. I came back over to the mirror and stared into the tired eyes of a man in his late 30s who had traded his dreams for a secure job. You must be crazy, my reflection said. Why don't you crawl out that window and get away from here? I turned and looked at the tantalizing window. When I turned back to the mirror, my reflection was still there.

You want me to take the risk of escaping while you sit nice and comfy in your frame? I said, Why don't you escape? My reflection glanced at the window but didn't make a move towards it. That's what I thought, I said to my reflection. I stepped out of the bathroom and was greeted by the most delicious smell. I glided into the kitchen and drank in the smell of glorious food. That smells amazing, I said. Darlene jumped and turned around, brandishing a large spoon in self-defense.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I said. It's okay, she said, her cheeks turning red. I'm not used to anyone coming to the kitchen until I call for them." Well, you need any help?" "'Help?' she replied, looking at me like she didn't understand the word. "'Yeah, yeah, help. Like, was setting the table,' I said. Oh, no, no, I always take care of that. But thank you." I went to the table and sat down, watching her glide through the kitchen with practiced ease.

In no time, plates, glasses, and silverware appeared on the table. I noticed five place settings, including the one where I sat. I was about to ask about the others when she yelled, "'Supper!' The man came through the door first, followed by a boy maybe 11 years old. Next was a beautiful young girl who looked to be in her late teens. The man's eyes bored into mine, and I suddenly found the pattern on the dishes to be the most interesting thing I'd ever seen.

Darlene brought over a large bowl and a plate full of biscuits. Three hands each grabbed a biscuit. The man took two and began to disassemble them on their plates, then poured the gravy over the remnants of the biscuit. Well, what are you waiting for? The man said to me. Help yourself. I took a biscuit and split it in half, then poured gravy over it that had chunks of meat

in it. What kind of meat is this? I said, inhaling the tantalizing aroma. Chicken, Darlene said, darting her eyes toward the man. It smells amazing, I said, picking up my fork and diving into the gravy-soaked biscuit. Aren't you forgetting something? The man said. I looked around and found all eyes on me as my fork froze halfway to my mouth.

I paused and set it down, then folded my hand. as the others had already done. Dear Lord, the man said, thank you for the hands that prepared this meal and for blessing us with another day of life. Please help this fella to find his final destination and bless us to do your bidding. Amen.

I opened my eyes and everyone else was already devouring their meal. I picked up my fork, checking to be sure I wasn't going to be admonished for eating this time, and began devouring as well. To call the simple, fair, delicious, would be an understatement. It was hands down the most incredibly tasty meal I'd ever eaten. This is really delicious, I said. The man glared at me. The children shot curious looks at me. Darlene blushed and looked away. What? I said, Oh, we're not big on compliments around here, the man said. We do what needs to be done, and we don't expect a fuss to be made about it.

Oh, uh, sorry? I said, unsure if I was really being made to apologize for complimenting someone. The man grunted, and everyone went back to eating. I kept my eyes on my plate to avoid any further mistakes. When my plate was empty, I looked at the two remaining biscuits. You can have another if you want, the man said. Only if no one else wants it, I replied. The man looked around the table.

It's still on the plate, isn't it? Yes. Then nobody else wants it. I slowly reached for the delectable lump of dough, waiting to see if anyone would change their mind. When no one did, I pulled it apart. and doused it in the golden gravy. Within two minutes it was gone.

I sat back, feeling satisfied as Darlene cleared the table and did the dishes. I considered offering to help, but after the compliment speech, I was pretty sure that wouldn't go over very well. Do you mind if I try to use the phone again? I said. The man gave me a dismissive wave, which I took for yes, and I left the table, only to be disappointed by the continued lack of a dial tone. Still no luck, the man said.

Nope. Why don't you just stay here for the night? Oh, no, no, I said. I couldn't impose on you like that. It's not imposing. We have a spare room. No, no, I couldn't, really. All right, how about this?

You stay the night. If the phone doesn't work in the morning, I'll drive you home. You do that? He smiled. Absolutely. Well, how can I refuse that? Great. I'll show you to your room.

I followed him up the stairs to the end of a long hallway. There were three doors on the left-hand side and two doors on the right. We went to the last door on the left and into a beautiful bedroom. Wow, this is amazing, I said. He looked around. It's just a room. He said, If you need to use the bathroom, it's across the hall. Thank you, I said, holding out my hand.

He grabbed it and shook it with a wide smile. Oh, it's my pleasure. I waited until he left to collapse to the floor in agony at my hand that had been crushed by his handshake. Funny thing was, I didn't think he was even trying to hurt me. It was just his natural strength. I made a mental note to never anger this man. I set my lunchbox of belongings I brought from the truck on the bed and started going through

them. I pulled out the small flashlight and set it on the nightstand. Next was the key chain size can of pepper spray. I looked at it for a moment, then stuck it in my pants pocket. I stuck the multi-tool in my pocket as well, then set the rest, mainly consisting of snacks in the drawer. I wandered over to the window and looked out. It must have faced the back of the house because all I could see was a barn and a lot of field.

The boy and the man were out there busying themselves with chopping firewood and throwing it on a pile. I didn't think much of it since it was July and winter would be here soon enough. The sun was almost down, and with it my last thoughts of going back to the truck were trying to walk to another house. I'd heard stories about things that roamed the country-sum. in the dark, I'd seen my share of them, and I knew they were nothing to be trifled with. This place was nice, and the people were friendly, in their own quirky way. I decided to go to

the bathroom and get ready for bed. I opened my door, and almost ran into the girl as she was reaching for the bathroom door herself. Sorry, I said. Would you like to go first? She said, looking down. No, no, no, you go ahead. I replied. She looked at me for a moment, and then grinned. I backed into my room and closed the door. The last thing I needed was the man catching me making eyes at his teenage daughter. I looked around the room. There was no TV, no radio, nothing to distract me.

In desperation, I opened a drawer and a Bible stared back at me. I shrugged. I flipped it open, stopped on a random page and read, James, Chapter 1, verse 14. But each person is tempted when they're dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Verse 15. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin. And sin, when it is full grown, gives birth to death.

Great, I thought, slamming the book closed and tossing it back in the drawer. Just then, there was a light tapping at the door. I went to it and opened it, only to find the girl standing there just inches from me. I'm done if you'd like to use the bathroom now, she said. Okay, thank you, I said. She nodded and walked down the hall. I darted across the hall and shut the door. A couple minutes later, I opened it to go back to my room, and I found the way blocked by the man.

He stared down at me. Enjoying yourself?" I'm sorry, I said, starting to sweat. Is the room okay, I mean? You enjoying yourself? Oh, yes, yes, very much, thank you. He smiled and nodded, then stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. I glanced down the hallway and there stood Darlene.

She saw me and stopped, then went into her bedroom. I turned and went into my room. the door and tried to shake off this eerie feeling that no one wanted me here, but they were all pretending they did. I laid down in the comfortable bed, leaving my clothes on. I'm not really sure why. I just didn't feel right taking them off. It didn't take long for me to drift off to sleep, hoping the morning would come soon and

I would be out of here. I don't know what woke me, but the room was dark when I opened my eyes. There was moonlight beaming in from the windows, bathing the room in a pale glow. I sat up and looked outside to see a roaring fire in the backyard. I tried to get up and look, but someone was standing in my way. It was Darlene. She was standing beside the bed, staring at me. Is everything okay?

I said hesitantly. She didn't answer. Just stared at me blankly as if she were sleepwalking. I went to the other side of the bed, but someone was there too. It was the girl. She also was staring at me with a blank look. I tried to slide to the end of the bed, but the man and the boy were standing there staring as well.

They were all dressed in black robes. I backed up until my back was against the headboard. What is this? I said. My eyes darting back and forth from one person to the neck. Nobody answered. It was eerily silent. I was hard pressed to hear if they were even breathing.

My heart was beating so loud. I had a sudden flashback to a zombie movie where the same thing happened right before they ate the person. My mind was reeling. I was in full panic mode. I had no idea what they wanted, but I was sure it wasn't good. I thought about making a break for it, but they had me surrounded. I started thinking in terms of the world.

weakest link. The girl was standing beside the bed. Surely I could push past her before one of the others could get a hold of me. It would have been a good plan if the door was on the wall beside the bed, but it wasn't. It was on the wall at the foot of the bed, which meant pushing past her, then trying to get past the man and the boy before reaching the door. I was past regretting ever seeing this house. I was only concerned with getting out alive. While I was I was thinking about escape. They made their move. They all grabbed me at the same time. It happened so fast I had no way of avoiding it. I tried to pull away, but their grip was like iron. It was even impossible to yank out of the girl's grip. They held me down and tied my hands with rope.

Then they lifted me out of bed and walked me down the stairs. We walked through the kitchen And out the back door, where the blazing fire awaited, surrounded by a dozen people dressed in similar black robes. We stepped inside the circle of people and stopped just before the fire. It was burning so hot I began to sweat. The man stood behind me and held me in an iron grip. Darlene stepped up to the fire, then turned and addressed the group. Once again, our Lord has provided a sacrifice, she said. The man gripped me tighter. He easily picked me up and laid me on a picnic table.

All I could think of was a barbecue, and I was the prize pig. Darline began murmuring in some language I didn't know. It was repeated by the rest of the group. Even the young boy was murmuring and looking at me with malice. The sounds reached a fever pitch as they raised their hands and looked to the sky. I tried to take advantage of the moment and roll off the table, but the man's grip on my shoulders was like a vice. They reached a crescendo and the sound died down as they lowered their hands and locked their

eyes on me. I knew my time had come. Darlene turned towards me and pulled out a wicked-looking dagger that was covered in gemstones. She took a step toward me, then turned and handed it to her daughter. She took it in two hands with reverence, then held it by the hilt, and started towards me. The once angelic face had taken on a menacing grin. She approached the table, receiving approving looks from all those around as they closed the circle in tight. Please don't do this, I sent. She flashed a wicked grin and raised the knife over me, holding her breath for a moment before she plunged it toward my chest.

I was out of options. I did the one thing I swore I'd never do again. My hands darted up with inhuman speed and caught hers, holding the knife at bay. She struggled, putting all her weight into the downward thrust, but my hands had already grown larger and hairier. Her eyes grew wide as she drank in my transformation, watching as my arms, legs and chest, grew insanely strong muscles and became covered in fur. Her shock was magnified.

When I flexed my arms and shattered her wrist, bending them backward and plunging the knife into her chest, her mouth fell open to scream, and I filled it with my claws, ripping straight through the back of her head. I grabbed her throat and ripped it out. She fell, blood pouring from her neck, her eyes frozen in a state of shock. The man tried to wrestle me back down, but I towered over him now, grabbing him by the torso and throwing him down on the table, shattering it and his back. I grabbed his arms and legs, and I twisted them together, hearing the bone snap, as

I made him into a human pretzel. Darlene was next. She, like the others, had come to the realization that their little ceremony had gone wrong. I leapt in front of her, grabbed her arms, and I ripped them out of their sockets. I then stabbed her in the heart with the broken bones. Next I grabbed the boy, opened my mouth, shoved his head in his head in the heart. inside and crushed it with a snap of my jaws. I used my instincts to track down every one of the escaping cultist and I slaughtered them one

by one. When the last one was dead, I slowly walked back to the house. My adrenaline bled off as the danger level dropped. I slowly transformed back into my human form. And I stood by the fire, looking from body to body, as puddles of blood formed around them. As I walked past the man, he yelled, You've taken everything from me! I stopped and slowly turned, looking at his broken limbs twisted at unnatural angles.

I stepped over and stood beside him. You were perfectly willing to take everything from me. How many others have there been just like me? How many innocent souls cry out from the unmarked graves you buried them in? You say I've taken everything from you, and yet you still draw breath. What happens when one predator meets another? He tried to look away, but he couldn't move his head. One of two things happens, I continued.

Either they stare each other down and they go their separate ways, or they fight to the death. You had a chance to let me go my way. You thought I was weak, and in the end, I showed you your folly. I stepped over and ripped the sacrificial knife from the dead girl's chest, stepped back over to him, placed it to his throat, and slashed across, watching the dead girl's chest, stepped back over to him, placed it to his throat, and slashed across, watching me. the spray of blood drain what was left of his useless life. Now I've taken everything from you. I went to the fire and picked up a piece of burning wood, then threw it through the kitchen window. I walked down the driveway and onto the road.

The moonlight lit my way as the sound of crackling wood grew less the further I walked down the street. the place I called home. You may wonder why I wrote this. You might say I was telling on myself, and the police might have a few questions for me. That's the benefit of people who don't want to believe those who say that they've seen extraordinary things. The truth remains shrouded behind the mask of doubt and unbelievability.

The real reason I wrote this is as a word. warning, never take strangers for granted. You never know who or what they are.