Lighthouse Horror Podcast - My Town Has ONE RULE: Never Go In The Fog | Scary Stories

Episode Date: October 3, 2023

I didn't listen.     Story from NormalAlfalfa8523 Make sure to check out more of their work at u/NormalAlfalfa8523   Original Post: I Drove Home In The Fog One Night. I'll Regret It For The Rest of My Life : r/nosleep                                     Original YouTube link: My Town Has ONE RULE: Never Go In The Fog              For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Merch: lighthousehorror.com  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 day, 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!

Three years after graduating college, I decided I needed a break from the corporate grind. The 45-minute commute, early mornings of the office, and long nights on the computer took their toll on my physical and mental health. This amount of stress culminated in me waking up one night with chest pains and feeling short of breath. Convinced I was having a heart attack, I called 911 and I was transported to the ER. A few hundred in medical bills later, I was diagnosed with panic disorder. Although my mental health has never been perfect, I'd never experienced anything this intense

and was shocked stress could have this much of a physical effect. Against the advice of my parents, former academic advisor and colleagues, I quit my first grown-up job less than two years and, luckily, I'd always been somewhat of a saver, and had worked my way through college, so I had some time to figure things out before the bills would start piling up. I found a much closer job at a small bar and grilled called owls. It was in a pretty remote location, but it was often pretty busy since it was the only restaurant and bar in the village. The atmosphere at the restaurant was like night and day compared to my office job. I could wear a t-shirt and jeans.

Start time was never earlier than 10 a.m., and my coworkers felt like friends, rather than competition. I loved working there, and I still look back on the two years I spent there fondly, despite what happened. It was a Friday night, and we were preparing to close at midnight. Sometimes we stayed open later, but the last few bar guests cleared out early that night. Jean, a server in her early 20s, sat at the counter counting her tips, while Ben and I restocked the bar and washed the last few beer glasses. Better hurry up before that fog spreads, Jean said in a joking voice. You know I'm staying across the street tonight, Ben responded, sounding annoyed.

Ben's parents lived just down the street from the restaurant, and he would sometimes stay there if he was too tired or too intoxicated to drive home from the late shifts. I glanced outside. It didn't look too bad in the village. but out towards the main road leading back to where I lived. The fog was so thick, the road disappeared. Driving through that's going to be a bitch, I said shaking my head. Suddenly, Ben and Gene looked up from what they were doing.

They exchanged tense-looking glances. Where do you live? asked Gene. Worlington, I answered. Gene looked pale. You realize you can't drive. drive all the way back tonight, right?" She asked. They should have let you go earlier before it got bad.

I mean, I have to. I said confused. Where else would I stay? You don't know anyone in town? Jean asked. I shook my head. All right, then you can stay with me if you need do, she said. You can crash on the couch, just don't go out in that fog at night, especially on 23.

It's dangerous. There's so many accidents already with normal visibility. Imagine how dangerous it is when you can't see ten feet in front of you. She wasn't wrong. 23 was notorious for deadly accidents, being a rural yet busy two-lane highway, with a ton of sharp turns. I'd had a few close calls driving to and from Al's already. I was still shocked. She offered to let me stay at her place. We were friendly, but she'd never given any indication she was interested in anything more. But her offering to let me stay over to avoid some minor driving conditions seemed extreme.

Wasn't like it was a snowstorm. I agreed to stay the night, both for reasons of safety, and being curious to see if she did see me as more than a friend. I had to help Ben put away a few things in the walk-in, so Jean said I could meet her outside and follow her to the apartment when I was done. Hey, you think Jeans into me or something? I asked Ben once we were alone. Surprise, she actually invited me to stay over. Ben shrugged.

Maybe, he said. Ben wasn't his usual self tonight. He was usually outgoing and boisterous. On the slower weekend nights, he was known to sneak some drinks back to the break room. But tonight he'd been fairly quiet. quiet and remained completely sober. We got our closing jobs completed for the night, and I was getting ready to walk out

the door when Ben stopped me. Hey man. Seriously, don't drive in that fog tonight. I don't care what happens at Jeans. Just wait until morning to head back, he said. This was out of character for Ben. He didn't have a reputation of being a safe driver. He regularly drove under the influence.

wasn't opposed to street racing. I wanted to know why this was such a big deal to him, but I was exhausted, and I knew Gene was outside waiting for me. I nodded. All right, no worries. See tomorrow, man. I said, waving to Ben. It was less than a five-minute drive to Gene's apartment. She lived in an older duplex. She grabbed some blankets and a pillow from the closet and put them on the couch for me. I thanked her. I felt pretty awkward at this point. It felt strange spending the night at her apartment when we only ever saw each other at work or the occasional bonfire or party. Luckily, Jean broke the ice by putting on a Marvel movie.

We were both fans of Marvel. We watched a few movies and ate some snacks. It was starting to be clear to me that she didn't have any interest in me romantically, but I was okay with that. She was still a good friend, and I did enjoy her company. After a while, my mind drifted back to Ben's strange demeanor tonight. You notice how Ben was tonight? He's quiet as hell, and he didn't have a single beer.

I said. Yeah, don't worry about it. He always gets like that when it's foggy out. He doesn't like to talk about it, but he saw a bad accident out there a few years ago, when there was a fog and it was hard to see. He wouldn't tell me much about it, but it must have been pretty gory. I nodded. That made sense.

Jean decided to head to bed after the movie was over, and I got settled in on the couch. I was just starting to doze off when my phone rang. I jumped up and quickly silenced it. It was my roommate David. I figured whatever he was calling about could wait until morning and tried to go back to sleep. Then I saw a text. Call me now. It read in all caps.

Annoyed. I got up and stepped out onto the porch to avoid waking Jean up. I called David back. All right. What's so important you need to call me at 2 a.m., I asked. Our house just got broken into. Responded David. Are you kidding me? No. I just called the police and they're on their way. I just got home from Jennings and it looks like the back door was kicked in. The locks broke. The place is totally ransacked and our TV's gone.

Whoa, whoa, what about my Xbox? I asked. I'm sorry, man. I don't see it. All right, I'm on my way, I said, and quickly hung up. I quietly gathered up my things and folded up the blanket. I decided to leave quietly and text Jean in the morning to let her know what happened. I didn't see the point in waking her up, and I wasn't in the mood to be talked out of going.

talked out of going to see what had been stolen. I was getting angrier by the second. I hated how rampant theft was in Warlington and was even angrier remembering how many hours I spent at a job that almost killed me to earn everything I owned. I texted David to let him know I may take longer than usual to get home, since I'd have to go slow to get through the fog on 23. Once I got out of the highway and realized how thick the fog was. My rage subsided a bit. I knew I'd have to stay fully focused on driving. I was pretty tired, so I turned on the radio to help me stay alert. I drove 25, despite the 55 mile per hour speed limit. I couldn't see anything. This fog was the worst I'd ever seen, even worse than snow blindness. Almost every station on the radio was breaking up.

The only station I could get a signal on was some fokey-sounding country station. I eventually gave up and turned it off, annoyed. I started to see some light through the fog, so I slowed down a bit. I quickly realized there was a pickup truck on the side of the road with the hazard lights on. I slowed to a stop behind it and got out. There was a man who looked like he was in his 50s, sitting in the driver's seat with a door open. He was mumbling and crying, head in his hands. Sir, are you okay?

I asked. He continued to mumble and sob at the same time. You need help? I can call someone, I said. He looked up, appearing very distressed, and his face was very red. The phones don't work out here. We're screwed. We're screwed.

We're dead. He said. What's going on? I can help you. I tried. They messed with my truck. I looked away for one minute and my truck won't start. He stammered.

All right. Look, man, it's okay. I'll call a tow truck for you and the police if you need me to. It's going to be fine. He continued to sob while I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. I tried three times and the call wouldn't go through. because of bad service. I knew this area didn't have the best reception, so I told him I was going to walk up the road

of ways to try to get service. It's no use. It's no use. He kept repeating. I started to feel like I was a little out of my element. I didn't know how to calm down someone who was hysterical, and I had no idea how his truck was damaged since it looked fine from the outside. If someone really did mess with his tree.

truck? Were they still out here? I walked about 50 feet away from where we were parked and again tried to call 911. Still no service. I cursed Verizon's coverage and walked back to the man in the truck. Hey, not having any luck right here, but if you want to come with me up the road to the gas station, we can call for help from there. No, he said, you're one of them. He began mummer. He began mum fumbling things under his breath that didn't make sense. I've been out here for six hours. Nothing's real. The road should have ended miles ago.

I started to think this might be a mental health issue rather than a car issue. All right, it's okay, I said. You're safe now. I can take you up the road and everything will be fine. The man didn't take this well and began fumbling around for something in the glove compartment. To my horror, he pulled out a shotgun. I stepped back. Whoa, whoa, whoa, I'm sorry.

I wasn't going to try to hurt you, okay? It's fine. I'll go. He continued to point it at me until I was out of sight. I ran to my car, slammed the door, and I peeled out of there. My heart was beating into my chest while I sped over the foggy road. When I couldn't see the truck headlights anymore, I saw the truck headlights anymore. I slowed down, knowing I couldn't keep going this fast.

I had trouble regulating my breathing, so I dug into my bag, trying to retrieve my anti-anxiety meds. I decided I was probably far enough away to pull over, so I did, and was luckily able to take my meds. I was sitting there, trying to get my bearings. When my phone rang, I quickly picked it up, happy to finally have service. It was Jean. Where are you?

She asked. I could hear the concern in her voice and began to feel guilty. I had to drive home. I'm sorry. It was an emergency, I explained. Where are you now? She asked. I'm still on 23.

About halfway to Worlington. I'm pulled over. I just had some weird shit happened and it scared the hell out of me. You can't be out there alone like that, Owen. It gets really dangerous. in ways you don't understand. I'm coming out to get you." No, Jean, there's no reason for you to risk driving all the way out here. I just saw some paranoid dude. It freaked me out. It's not a big deal, okay?

I realized she hung up and tried to call her back. The phone wouldn't go through no matter where I moved it. Damn it, I said, slamming my hands on the steering wheel. I didn't feel like I could leave because she knew where I was and was coming out here, but I also didn't want to sit parked on the side of a dangerous highway in the middle of a fog. After about ten minutes, I walked out into the woods to pee and try to get better cell reception. As I was heading back to the car, I saw a faint light in the woods. I squinted, and I was able to see the silhouette of a person holding a lantern. The person

looked heavy and somewhat tall, kind of like the man in the truck. I didn't want to stick around to see if it was him, so I booked it back to my car. The fog was thick in the woods as well, and it made it hard to see around the many trees. All of a sudden, I ran into something. It knocked the wind out of me and bloodied my nose. I jumped back and then I looked up. Owen? Said Jean.

Jean. You okay? Yeah, but not by much. She joked. You know, you shouldn't have come out here. It's impossible to see and there's some crazy dude out here with a gun. I said, I didn't want to leave you out here alone. We need to go before the fog gets worse, she said, following me back to my car.

I didn't see how it was possible for the fog to get any worse. I'd driven in fog many times over the years and I'd never seen anything like this. It was like trying to see through milk. Do you want me to drive? Asked Jean. I've seen this before, and I think I can do it. I nodded. It felt weird having her drive my car, but I was pretty shook up and she sounded confident.

We continued on, albeit at a faster speed than I was comfortable with. I did suggest she slowed down a few times and she would initially agree, but would quickly come back up the speed. I had no idea how she was able to see the road, let alone any other cars. Not that there were any on the road. I tried to make conversation, but she was quieter than usual. She seemed tense. I decided it was probably best not to distract her.

I eventually felt so uncomfortable with her speed that I asked her if she could stop at the quick stop gas station that was a few miles before the exit to Worlington. It had to be coming up. She agreed to. By the time we reached quick stop, I was shaking with fear. Jean said she was going to stay in the car, so I went in alone. I locked myself in the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face.

My phone rang. It was Jean. Hey, I answered. Where are you? I've been on 23 for like 10 minutes, and I haven't seen you. I felt a shiver run down my spine. You, you're outside quick stop waiting for me. I stammered.

Stop messing with me, Jean. It's been a weird night, all right? Owen. Listen to me. Whatever's at quick stop with you, it's not me. I should have told you how serious this was before you left. Something paranormal that no one understands happens when the fog covers 23. It happened to my grandpa years ago.

He was always so paranoid about fog, but he never told anyone why. When he was in his twilight years, he told me more about what he saw out there. They can manipulate you and distort your perception. You don't have much time. They know you're out there. I struggled to compose myself, breaking into a cold sweat. Jean's odd demeanor in the car began to make sense. Listen to me.

Find something to use as a weapon and don't let them know you're onto them until you're ready. She continued. I was frantically trying to ask what they were when the call cut out. There was a knock on the door. Owen, are you okay? I heard Jean's voice. I knew I needed to buy some time. I tried to sound as normal as possible.

Yeah, yeah, I'll be out in a second. Hey, can you go look in the car and see if I have a lighter? Yeah, yeah, just try to hurry up so we can get out of here, she answered. I heard her walk away. And when I heard the ding of the front door close, I quietly slipped out of the bathroom. I walked around the store looking for something, anything to use as a weapon. There was no one else at the store, besides, it being open 24-7. Not even a cashier. Unfortunately for me, this wasn't one of those shady

gas stations that sold brass knuckles and pocket knives. I glanced outside and noticed whatever was posing as Jean was standing off to the side of my car. If I could get in the car before her, I could take off. Seeing few other options, I made a break for it. The being posing as Gene must have picked up on my determination as she frantically tried to get back in the car. She was halfway in when I shoved her out as she screamed. Next thing I knew, she was in front of the car and before I could hit my brakes, I felt the thrust of my car hitting something. I quickly threw my car in reverse and I took off.

I knew I had to get out of here. I sped up despite having no visibility. I called Jean back and on the third try, the call finally went through. Are you okay? Yeah, yeah, but what's happening? I said. It's too much to explain right now.

Just focus on getting out. If you're past quick stop, it shouldn't be much longer. Just don't trust any interaction you have on 23 tonight. They're out. Who is they? I demanded. No one knows what they're called. They can shape-shift and distort things.

Just get off the road as soon as you can. I continued driving at a slow but steady pace and was hopeful I'd start to see the lights of Warlington ahead. However, to my horror, I noticed two blinking lights just feet away from me. I swerved to avoid hitting the car. A man ran up beside me and started to pound on my window. It was the guy from earlier in the truck. I wasn't sure if he was a regular guy or one of them, but I didn't want to take any chances.

I tried to speed up to get around him, but the loose gravel slowed me down. Please, man, I'm sorry about earlier. He started. I have a wife and two kids at home. I need to get out of here. Just please help me. Against my better judgment, I unlocked the door and he got in. I wasn't sure why I took this.

risk besides the fact that he did try to warn me earlier. That and he has a gun that may be needed at some point. Where's the gun? I asked. He sat in on the middle seat. It'll stay right there. I won't touch it, he promised. I took off, unsure if I made the right decision. I learned that the guy's name was Josh, and he lived on the other side of Worlington. He seemed like a very normal guy, and I began to feel more at ease as the drive continued. What brought you out to 23 tonight? I asked casually. He chuckled and looked out the window. This seemed strange, and I suddenly had a bad feeling. I kept a close eye on him. He glanced over, and I caught a look into his eyes. They were gray with no visible pupil. I remembered him having

brown eyes when I saw him by his truck. This wasn't him. I slammed on the bricks and at the same time we both reached for the gun. He lunged at me in an attempt to grab it out of my hands. We struggled for a moment. I was able to grab it and I pulled the trigger as he lunged at me. The shot made my ears ring. I pulled him out of the car and then I tossed the gun into the woods. Luckily my car wasn't hit by the bullet since his window was open. I was shaking, speeding off into the night. It felt like I'd been on this road for hours. I tried to call Gene several more times. The call dropped a few times and then rang. Are you okay? I asked frantically. Yeah, yeah, I had to turn around. It was getting too dangerous. I'm sorry. I couldn't help.

Jean said. It's okay. Another one tried to get me, but I'm almost out. I told her. We stayed on the phone until Jean arrived home safely. Our connection was beginning to cut out again, so I let her know I'd let her know when I got home. It felt like a miracle when I began to see the lights of Worlington. The fog rapidly finned out as I turned off of 23, breathing a sigh of relief. I sped home, still shaking and sweating. When I arrived home, David greeted me.

What did the police say? I asked, trying to sound as normal as possible. At this point, a break-in was the least of my worries. An expression of genuine confusion crossed David's face. Huh? What police? He asked. I glanced around the living room.

Nothing looked out of place, and nothing was missing. That said, I knew it wasn't in my best interest to sound crazy. Um, do you hear about any break-ins around here? Someone at work said there was one in Worlington tonight. I improvised. David looked confused. No, no, I haven't heard anything. He replied.

I went to bed and I tried to get some sleep. I had no idea what happened, but I assumed I'd gotten through the worst of it. One thing I was certain of is that I would never drive on 23 in the fog again. I woke up early the next morning and quickly got ready for work. When I realized this would involve going on 23, I hesitated. I stepped outside and the sky was crystal clear. I looked on Google Maps to see if there was another way to Al's. There were some back roads I could take, but it'd be almost twice as long.

I decided to bite the bullet and go. Everything looked normal. The radio also worked better this time, and the music helped me stay calm. Eventually I began to relax. I remembered I was almost out of gas, so I went to turn into quick stop, but had to slam on the brakes. When I noticed the yellow tape and multiple police cars, I cautiously pulled around to drive away. When I noticed Ben and several other people from the village standing at the edge of the tape, I parked my car across the street, and I walked over.

Ben, what's going on? I asked. Ben turned around, and I was shocked to see he was crying. He shook his head. Gene was hit. Whoever did it, they took off. They didn't even call for help. Some guy from Worlington got shot further up the road to, I think he worked at the hardware store in the village.

I started shaking. Where's Jean now? I asked. Even though I already knew. She's gone, Ben said. I'm sorry. I began hyperventilating. I stepped away and ran back to my truck.

I shut myself in, slamming my fist into the steering wheel and wailing. Ben walked over and was trying to calm me down, but I was inconsolable. I'd never get over this. I was never convicted or even questioned, because the security footage at Quickstop wasn't working the night of the fog. I later checked my call records, and there was only one call from her that night. The first one she'd made to tell me she was coming to find me. There was no record of the call from David.

I quit Al's, broke my lease, and was moved out of state by the end of the week. I can't shake the guilt I feel daily. And I'll never forget how Jean tried so hard to keep me out of the fog. I'll never drive in fog again.