Snook - Chilling TRUE Scary Stories

Episode Date: July 4, 2025

All of these stories are submitted from subscribers! From a scary small town in Serbia to some other spooky experiences! These are also all true, so that makes it even more chilling! Let me know what you thought of them, if you would like to see your story in a future video, please email - [e-mail]! I hope you enjoyed this video, and thank you for watching! Would you guys like to see some more videos like this in the future? What was your favorite story in the video? My favorite was the first one, although they were all great! You guys are great writers! And please comment down below any more series ideas you all have in mind!And another huge shoutout to everyone who submitted there stories for todays video! You guys are great! And sorry if you sent in your story and it wasn't covered, I get 100's of stories, so I try and pick the best ones for each video, but feel free to send in your stories!Sub goal is 1 million! So subscribe please! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to another scary stories video. And today we're getting into some chilling, true scary stories. And all of these scary stories are sent in by you guys, viewers of the channel. And you guys have some scary experiences to say to the least. And thank you so much for sending in your scary stories. They're scary. They're entertaining. And for everyone watching right now, you'll want to stick around and listen to all of them. Every single story in this video is great, scary.

And yeah, you'll just want to hear them. And thank you so much for stopping by. It means the world. and please like and subscribe to the channel. It helps more than you know. So yeah, please like and subscribe. And all right, without further ado, let's get into some chilling, true scary stories.

Hey, Snook, I've been meaning to share this story for a long time. I've always loved your channel and listening to your scary outdoor stories reminded me of something that happened to me years ago. It's not paranormal, or at least, I don't think it was. But it still gives me chills whenever I think about it. I didn't exactly have a happy child, I grew up in a small rural town in Serbia, and my home life was rough, to say the least.

Abusive parents, a lot of loneliness, the kind of stuff that forces you to grow up too fast. So I spent most of my time outside with my two closest friends, S&B. They were my escape. The three of us were always exploring, always looking for something exciting to distract us from real life. One summer afternoon when I was 13, we decided to explore the outskirts of 10, town. Somewhere none of us had really ever been before. We ended up stumbling across this little overgrown creek, tucked behind an old, unkempt orchard. The place looked abandoned and forgotten. Trees grew wild, their branches forming almost a canopy overhead, and the air smelled like

damp earth and rot. To most people, it probably would have looked just like a dump. There were beer bottles, old cigarette packs, torn up plastic bags, even syringes scattered around. But to us, it was perfect, it was hidden, it was quiet, and it was ours. We figured we could clean it up and turn it into our secret hangout spot, a place where no one would bother us. But there was something odd right from the start. Near the creek bed, half buried in the dirt, were a pair of scuffed up shoes and a muddy jacket. They looked, recently dug up. I pointed it out to S&B, but we kind of all laughed it off, joking that maybe some drunk guy had passed out there or ditched his stuff. We didn't think too much of it, or maybe we just didn't want to.

That night, we made a plan. I'd bring a shovel to clean up the mess, as would bring some cardboard to sit on, and B found this old broken bench in his shed. We were actually excited. It felt like we were building something of our own, far from the crap we were dealing with at home. But when we came back the next day. Everything had changed. The creek was trashed worse than before. The shoes and jacket were gone, but now there were torn clothes scattered everywhere, different ones like someone had ransacked a donation bin. A few meters down the path, we saw something that looked like a bone, not small like a chicken wing or anything, a big one. At first I thought it was maybe a deer or a stray dog, but something about it just looked off. It was true. It was true.

stripped clean, no fur, no rot, just pale and dry. Still, we were stupid kids. We laughed nervously and tried to ignore the unease building in our stomachs. That's when I've noticed a note. It was tacked to a tree, fluttering slightly in the breeze. The paper was yellowed and torn at the edges, but the message was clear, written in jagged, shaky handwriting. Either you leave this place alive, or you suffer like the rest of them, or something along those lines. I didn't even finish reading it before I got the goosebumps. My mouth went dry.

I showed it to S&B. They laughed, but not convincingly. It was that forced laugh you do when you don't want your friends to know you're scared out of your mind. We sat down anyway, try to play cool, but we didn't even last half an hour. Out of nowhere, I noticed something between the trees. Just a shape, tall, dark, motionless, a black silhouette, barely visible through the branch, At first I thought I was just imagining it, so I blinked hard, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. It was still there. And then it moved. It stepped forward.

Just once, and I felt something cold gripped my chest. I screamed, high-pitched, no shame, pure fear. S&B whipped around and sought two. We all jumped up and ran. The path out was steep, a hill covered in loose dirt and roots. It was hard to climb even on a good day, and we were panicking. I looked back just once. I wish I hadn't.

That figure was chasing us, and it wasn't alone. I swear I saw at least three or four more cloak shapes in the tree line watching, standing completely still like they were waiting. I don't know who or what they were, but I've never ran so fast in my life. S was crying, sobbing uncontrollably. B. didn't make a sound. We scrambled up that hill like our lives. depended on it, and maybe they did. The figures never followed us past the top. They just stayed there,

staring, as we disappeared into the orchard and out of sight. Not even a few days ago, I started researching the area. At a creek, it was supposed to be turned into a park years ago, but the project was canceled just two months into planning, no explanation given. Dig a little deeper, and you'll find something even weirder. That entire patch of land used to be an Islamic graveyard from World War I, but there were no signs left now, no stones, no fences, just trees, dirt, and silence. I don't believe in ghosts, I never have. But after that day, I started wondering if we hadn't just walked into some abandoned grave site, maybe even the territory of a cult. Whoever those people were, they didn't want us there, and they made that very close.

clear. I've since moved far away from that town, but I still talk to S&B regularly. We never go near that area. Not anymore. For anyone curious, I included a little map. The blue line I drew shows the creek. The steep hill we ran up is just a few feet from it. Not that visible on satellite view, but in person it was a tough climb. And above it is the orchard, just like I remember it. This story isn't very long, but it's one I've never forgotten. I actually thought of it while listening to one of your recent outdoor horror videos. It just brought everything flooding back. Anyway, thanks for reading this.

Sorry if my English was a little rough. It's not my first language. I just wanted to finally share this with someone. I've actually retouched this story a bit, so it sounds a bit more professional. So technically, I resent it. Keep up the amazing work, Snook. I respect how consistent you are with your uploads. You've built something awesome.

Hey, Snook, big fan, and I hope you find this story interesting. It definitely leaves me a little unsettled every time I remember it. To start, my childhood house was a one and a half story, meaning the second story was in the shape of a you, with the middle being a sort of balcony with a railing along each wall. Each corner was a bedroom, and the sides were hallways, with the stairs on the right hall. My room was in the bottom right corner if you imagine it from a top view.

Sounds complicated, but all you really need to know is that in order to get downstairs, you'd need to pass by my bedroom. I have two sisters who bedrooms were on the opposite side of the house from mine. For good while, starting when I was around 14 to 15 years old, each night around the same time, 12 to 2 a.m., I would hear footsteps going from my sister's side of the house, past my room, and down the stairs. Occasionally, the hallway light would turn on and then turn off as they pass, but naturally, I always assumed it was one of my sisters.

After about a week of this happening, I decided to just bring it up to them. They both denied it. In my head, I thought they were just lying, so I made a plan to catch them in the act. The next night, as soon as these steps would be outside my door, I planned on swinging it open and catching whichever sister it was. So that's what I did. Around 12.30-ish, they were there, right on time. Immediately I hopped out of bed and rushed to my door, hand on the knob, waiting patiently for them to step right outside. Once they did, I swung it open, and they immediately stopped. I found myself. staring at a pitch black and empty hallway. It freaked me out, so I closed the door and laid in bed, going to fall asleep so the night would be over. After that, I never heard the footsteps again. About a year later, both sisters had moved out, and I took one of their bedrooms. For some reason,

this re-triggered the occurrences. At this point, I'd be left alone in the house quite often. Every time I was alone, it was as if someone was downstairs walking around, and if I walked out of the room, they'd stopped for that day. Because of this, I would just stay in my room until my parents got back from wherever. This night, it's around 8 p.m., I was out with my aunt, and she dropped me off at home after our outing. I entered the house through the back door, which was right next to the kitchen, so I just sat down at the dinner table on my phone, preparing myself to trek through the dark house to the safety that's my bedroom. For about five minutes, I sat there. When I heard from upstairs, the door to my old bedroom upstairs slammed shut. Of course, my brain went to intruder. From the table,

I could see the stairway. So all I could think of was that soon I'd be seeing some crazy person running down. Immediately, I grabbed my phone and ran outside. I went behind a corner of the house so I could keep an eye on the door. I called my aunt, and she sped back to my place. She had a gun and searched the house to find no one. That night, I stayed at her house. And soon after, my family moved out of that house. Hey Snook, I've been watching your videos for about two months now, and I became hooked on your personal scary stories and felt I should send one in. Just call me a poster for the story. So for some context, my grandmother passed away around three years ago due to pneumonia. She was a joyous and kind person who cared for everyone. So when she passed away, it caused a huge

dent in our family. Right after she passed, I began to wake up between 3 to 4 a.m. for no reason. I'm not a superstitious person and always have a reason for the unexplained, but every time I woke up I felt she was right next to me. I chalked it up to me just missing her and wanting to feel her presence again. But one day, I had a dream. She was calling my name over and over again which caused me to wake up. I woke up in a cold sweat and chills ran down my spine. The weeks went on and me waking up in the middle of the night kept happening.

But soon I had one of the strange dreams. again. I dreamed that I woke up and it was a normal day. I climbed out of bed and did the normal morning routines. That's when I walked out to my kitchen and saw my grandmother cooking breakfast. At the time of the dream, I had thought nothing of it. So I went on with my day and soon returned to bed as the daylight faded from the sky. As soon as I shut my eyes in the dream, I felt a hand on my head stroking my hair. This felt so real as I could feel her wrinkles touching my forehead every so often. I could feel her nails combing my hair as she pet. I shot awake in my real bed and she was no longer there. I was back in my house and not my childhood home as I was in the dream.

This dream soon became reoccurring and I would still wake up during the hours of 3 to 4 a.m. It's been three years since my grandmother passed and I still have no explanation for this. I believe she's checking in on me and it's her spirit saying hi. Thank you for sharing my story and I hope you enjoyed it. Hey Snook, first off, I just want to say I love your content. I listen to all I'm at work during my overnight shifts from 7 p.m. to 4 a.m. Your stories seriously helped get me through the long drag of the night, so thank you. Now, this story is one I've been meaning to share for a while.

So before my husband and I got married, we were just two teenagers trying to figure out life on our own. I was 18, he was 19, and we were pretty naive. Since we didn't have any rental history, we thought the best move would be room sharing. It seemed simple enough. Share space. Save money. We had been in our first room share for a little under five months when I found out I was pregnant with our daughter. The place we were living in at the time was a literal nightmare. We were crammed into a basement bedroom that had mold, bugs, mice, and the washer would flood into our room anytime it ran. It was disgusting and unsafe, especially with a baby on the way. We tried reaching out to family, hoping someone could take us in temporarily, but nobody had the space. Desperate and scared for the the future of our unborn child I posted on the next door app, explaining our situation. However, young, expecting a baby, and stuck in a living situation that felt like it could collapse at any moment. That's when a woman reached out to me. Let's call her Mary. Mary told us that she

and her husband had a full-sized basement they were remodeling into a mini apartment. She said it wasn't quite finished yet, but they were hoping to rent it out to help with the cost of living. She explained that she worked as a caregiver for the elderly, and her husband was a licensed mechanic who ran a shop out of their garage. She said we could have the whole basement to ourselves, share the rent and utilities 50-50, and still access to the rest of the house freely. They even planned to install a bathroom and makeshift kitchen downstairs, so we wouldn't need to go upstairs unless we wanted to.

She sent photos of the basement, and the offer sounded well, honestly, it sounded like a blessing. We didn't have furniture, and she said the basement would be fully furnished by the time we moved in. We spoke for a few days, and then we packed up everything we had and called my sister to help move us in. When we arrived, Mary told us their electricity was out due to a neighborhood outage caused by the rain. We didn't think too much of it and moved our stuff in. We met Mary and her husband for the first time that day, and they informed us that the basement wasn't livable yet. But we could stay in the upstairs spare bedroom until it was. That fully furnished space we were promised?

Yeah, apparently the furniture hadn't arrived yet. So we slept on a piece of foam padding on the floor. For a week. Eventually, we moved downstairs, but again, no furniture. Still just a foam pad. Then the leak started. Water kept coming into the basement, and they had to fix it repeatedly. We paid $600 up front that first week.

For a while, things seemed okay. Then Mary told us she saw a mattress by a dumpster, down the street and offered to help us carry it home. On foot, two blocks, and yeah, we said yes. Anything was better than the floor. A couple of months in, around mid-October, things started to shift. I'd open up to Mary and her husband about my little brother. He was 16, living with my emotionally abusive mom, and had recently been sent to juvenile detention after being accused of attacking her. My mom planned to waive her parental rights, and if nobody took him in, he would have been sent into the system. I couldn't let that happen.

I asked Mary if he could come stay with us. She said yes. So I went to court, got full guardianship, and brought my brother home with me. At the time, it felt like we were building a future together. Me, my husband, our soon-to-be daughter, and my little brother. I was proud, but something didn't feel right. Not long after my brother moved in, I found out Mary had gone behind my back. She had been secretly talking to my mom, even though we had just gotten guardianship through the courts.

Mary and my mom went to a FedEx office and had a power of attorney document signed, making Mary my brother's legal guardian. I had no idea this even happened until after it was done. I was shocked, hurt, confused, and I asked Mary how this was even legal. And she just smiled and told me she had spoken to the courts and they proved it. I had no reason not to believe her, so I let it go. We enrolled my brother into a new school closer to us and he seemed to be adjusting. But when Christmas came around, things got chaotic. My baby was due in January, and we were trying to get everything ready.

We had a baby shower and left a bunch of stuff with Mary, so she could surprise us by putting together nursery. But when we asked about it later, half of it had mysteriously disappeared. Mary blamed my little brother, said he was jealous and probably misplaced everything. That lit a fuse. The tension in the house skyrocketed. At one point, my brother came home from a quarter. to point to therapy session, and Mary asked to speak with him privately.

Moments later, she pulled me aside, and said he had told her that my mother had S assaulted him. I was stunned, not just by the claim, but by how it was presented. Even my brother looked confused when she repeated it in front of us, like he'd never said it at all. It didn't feel right. None of it did. That night, her husband ended up raising his voice at me, and when my husband and stood up, just stood up, he snapped. He attacked my husband, punched him in the face until he's bleeding. Mary eventually pushed him off and made him go outside. Then she came downstairs apologizing, saying it would never happen again.

We were shaken, but we stayed. It kept getting worse. Mary withdrew my brother from high school, saying he got kicked out for behavioral issues, which was news to everyone. She said she'd homeschool him, but never showed me any paperwork. Then one day, I was in the hospital giving me. being birthed my daughter, the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. But Mary told me my brother wasn't allowed at the hospital. She claimed he was being punished for stealing baby shower gifts.

Again, I don't know what to believe anymore. When we came home from the hospital, everything was different. Furniture moved, rooms were arranged, our stuff had been moved upstairs, my brother's stuff moved into the basement. Mary said it was for comfort, so I wouldn't have to use the stairs post-birth. And I believed her, until the final straw. One day, my husband and I were napping while our baby slept in the living room, which, by the way, had become Mary in her husband's bedroom after they turned theirs into a storage closet. My husband got up to use the bathroom, and Mary called him to the living room to show him their new stereo system. He came and got me, and we both sat down.

Suddenly, her husband burst out from the other room, started screaming at us, knocked over to the stereo, and lunged at my husband, and that was it. We ran downstairs, started looking at apartments, and told Mary we were leaving. She begged us not to go, said my brother was the real problem, that he was what set her husband off. We agreed to give it one more chance, but that chance didn't last long. What happened next, well, that's a whole other story. A few weeks after the conversation with Mary, things were okay, at least on the surface. My husband and I were working long overnight shifts to get extra money.

Beans Mary had been telling us the utilities were especially high, and since Mary offered to watch our daughter and my little brother while we were gone or sleeping, we accepted. It seemed like she genuinely wanted to help. But one morning, after one of those long shifts, Mary came into her room and woke us up. She asked if we had seen my little brother. Confused we told her no. She was supposed to be the one watching him while we rested.

That's when she said he was gone. Missing. Before we could even wrap our heads around what was happening, Mary got a call from police. My little brother had been found. He had run away and told the officers that he was too scared to come back home. He was also in serious abdominal pain and was taken to the ER. We rushed to the hospital immediately. When I saw him, I was shocked. He looked like he'd been brutally beaten. Mary stepped out to take a call, and I tried to get him to tell me what had happened. But he was scared, silent, refused to say anything. Eventually, child protective services got involved. They took him

and we were left in the dark. Mary kept saying the courts were making assumptions and accusing her of things she didn't do, but she wouldn't tell us what those accusations even were. Then one day, she let me go to the court with her. That's when I finally read the court documents, and that's when it all came out. She and her husband were being accused of child abuse, medical and educational neglect, a long list. My little brother had gone through a two-hour interview where he revealed horrifying details about what they did to him when we weren't around. Things I won't even repeat here because they're that disturbing. What broke me the most was learning that he wanted to come back,

not just for himself but for us, for me, my husband, and our daughter. He blamed himself for not knowing, for not being able to stop it sooner. Mary tried to convince us that he was lying, that none of it was true. She said that my brother had been jumped at a gas station the night before he ran while we were at work. and that he was fabricating the story. But our trust in her was starting to crack. Then one day, I was really sick and stayed at home from work. My husband had just gotten back.

Mary and I were talking in our bedroom when suddenly her husband burst in. He kicked my husband in the chest so hard it knocked him down. Then he just started wailing on him, kicking him in the face over and over again, until he was bleeding and bruised. His face swollen and unrecognizable. Mary rushed her husband out of the room with our daughter in her arms. I immediately screamed for her to give us our baby back, and thankfully, she did.

But then she went to consult him, the man who just assaulted my husband. 30 minutes later, she texted me from the other room. She said we need to pack our things because we're going to a hotel, that we need to be quiet so her husband wouldn't hear. She asked us for money, and we sent her everything we had left. We waited, packed her bags, packed her daughter's things, but there was no follow-up message, nothing. Eventually, I asked her what was going on.

She replied with something totally out of left field. Do you guys want anything from Taco Bell? I was stunned. My husband was bleeding, and she was asking about fast food. I told her no and reminded her that we needed medical help for him. She just said, well, we can't get an Uber like that. No offense. I was furious.

I started asking her more questions. She dodged every single one. Then she flipped the story, said we didn't even have to leave anymore, that her husband was going to leave. instead. It didn't sit right with me. None of this did. She said she was going to Walmart for baby formula and took our daughter with her. I asked her why she had to take her. She didn't answer. Later, she offered to take me with her to the next door, but wanted my husband to stay behind, with her husband. I said absolutely not. He didn't want to be left alone with that man again.

She brushed it off like it was nothing, saying he's not going to touch him, as if we hadn't all just witnessed a violent assault. I told her, my husband needs to go to the hospital. I told her, my husband needs to go to the I don't understand why we're still here. She got defensive. Then she just left with her husband and our baby. That was it. I snapped. We called my husband's family and told them everything that had been happening. His dad jumped in the car with a loaded gun and drove straight to us. We were panicking. They had our daughter, and that's when I remembered Mary had set up a Life 360 group so she could track when we came home. It was meant to help with unlocking the door since we didn't have a key. But now it was our lifeline. We tracked her to a crew.

Proger. She and her husband were outside with a bunch of bags waiting on an Uber, but the ride wasn't set to take them home. That's when it all clicked. They were trying to flee with our daughter. We rushed there and snatched our baby back from her arms. Her husband escalated the matter, going after my husband again, and that's when my father-in-law stepped in, pointing this gun at him. Security intervened before things could get deadly, separating them and sending Mary and her husband on their way. Then we left. Went to stay with my family. That's when we finally alone. the whole truth. Mary and her husband had been abusing my little brother from almost the moment he started staying there, vile, inhuman things, and the obsession they had with my daughter. It went back

to when they found out I was pregnant. They wanted her. And once our baby was born, they decided my brother was no longer useful. That's when the abuse escalated, so badly that he ran away. They never thought he'd tell anyone. Today, me and my husband and our daughter live in our own apartment. No roommates, just us. My little brother is staying with my older sister, and although he's dealing with trauma-related behavior, he's doing all right. He's safe. Mary and her husband are both facing criminal charges. Her husband was hit with a long list of abuse and neglect charges. Mary initially escaped punishment by claiming she was on drugs and scared of him. She entered a rehab program and walked away without charges. But with new evidence, the courts are finally reopening her case. There's a real

chance she'll face the same charges as her husband did. Fingers crossed, she finally gets what she deserves. We're all still dealing with the trauma. I carry guilt every day. Guilt for not seeing the signs, for not partaking my little brother sooner, or surviving, healing, taking it one day at a time. My little brother and I are still extremely close and him and my daughter have the most beautiful relationship. My husband and I got married a little under a year ago, and we're doing great. In this, this is the first time I've told it all out loud from beginning to end other than amongst ourselves in court proceedings. Thank you for listening. The woman who watched asleep. Hello, Snook, I love your videos from the confession to Reddit stories. I don't know if

someone would think this story is scary, but I still thought I'd write it up and send it to you. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, or even if some parts don't make sense. I have dyslexia and have always had trouble putting thoughts into words. This event took place when I was a child on Christmas Eve. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I was old enough to know Santa wasn't real, but still young enough to pretend that Santa would send us gifts. One Christmas tradition that my older sister and I had was that we would always have a sleepover on Christmas Eve, and we would stay up being giddy about the presents,

we would get to open in the morning. The one present that I got to open on Christmas Eve was a starlight projector, and I used it well into my teens since I was scared, still am of the dark. But this projector showed bright green stars for a cycle of five hours on the ceiling, which is important for the story. The sleepover was normal. We snuggled in bed together, talking about the present we were going to get, also telling each other about the gifts we knew about,

and we probably went to bed around 10 p.m. with those bright green stars dancing on the ceiling. For some reason, I woke up. The hum of the projector was the only sound in the room that I noticed, and I remember rolling onto my side to face my sister, who, to my horror, was awake, staring at me. I could make out her face because these stars were on, so it could be no later than 3 a.m.

Before I could react, my sister quickly hushed me before her eyes started to the door. I thought my sister was trying to fuck with me, trying to scare me like an older sister does. But then I heard my name. I heard a woman saying my name in a low, hushed voice that I did not recognize. My sister shook her head, but I slightly turned to look at the door, thinking that it was our mom who was waking up to open the presents downstairs.

But it wasn't my mom. Her room was in this green hue from the stars, and it was light enough to be able to see everything. And at the door was this woman. Not my mom because this woman had long black hair while my mom had short black hair. She was just standing in front of the door, which was closed. She had this white nightgown on, but she was just staring at us, not moving, not breathing, just watching us. I moved to look back at my sister who was still watching me while that woman called out her name.

I didn't know what to do, scream maybe, but I didn't. I just laid there looking at my sister, waiting for her to do something, but she didn't. I don't know how long we stayed like that, staring at each other. That woman calling her name, but I fell asleep again. When I woke up again, it was still dark out since it was winter, but my sister's bedside lamp was on. So the room wasn't dark. My sister was still sleep, and that woman was gone. The door was open, which was strange since we kept our bedroom door closed to keep our dog from coming into our rooms. Being a child, I left my sister and went downstairs, sitting on the couch was my mom with a cup of coffee and our dog beside her.

She greeted me and asked if my sister was awake yet. I didn't answer her, but I just sat beside her. I then asked her if she was in the room last night, watching us. She was confused and said no. And I told her what happened. She told me it was probably just a dream, and I agreed with her. I went back upstairs to wake my sister. The first thing she said to me was if I had seen that woman last night.

night. I told her yes and said it wasn't mom. We just sat there for a while and she told me that she woke up to that woman calling her name. My sister and I talk about it from time to time, wondering what the fuck happened and who that woman was. We have two ideas. One is that it was the ghost of our dead grandma who committed S word when our mom was a teen or that it was our mom. The idea was that our mom came from the fact that not long after that Christmas, our mom's mental health started to decline to the point of multiple expert attempts and her leaving the family on my 17th birthday. We think that maybe it was the beginning of her decline, that the woman's long hair was either a robe of some kind or just a shadow. She has even said recently that it might have been her since she liked

watching us sleep, but she doesn't know. But part of me thinks it might have been my grandma, not that I ever knew that woman, and my sister and I have a very healthy hate for her. her because of the thing she did. She is our number one op. But maybe, just maybe, it was her ghost who wanted to see her granddaughters. After that Christmas, my sister and I never had another sleepover. The face at the window. Hey, Snuck, I've been loving your videos, so here's one for you. This is based on a true experience, though I have fleshed this into more of a story. I hope you enjoy it. It's weird, the things that stay with you. I must have been about six, or seven. My mom, my older brother, and I were curled up on the sofa watching TV. I couldn't tell

you what we were watching, something late, probably a bit too grown up for me, but I remember how warm and safe it felt. The lights were off, just the blue glow of the television flickering across the walls. I was tucked in close to my mom, under a blanket. Her arm draped lazily over me. My brother was at the far end of the sofa, completely absorbed in the screen. Outside, it was. It was pitch black. Our front room window looked straight out onto the front lawn, just a few feet of grass between us and the street. No fence.

No gate. Just open space and glass. And then there was a face at the window. It wasn't pressed to the glass. Just there. Pale. Still. Just standing in the dark.

Staring into our living room. I remember. how wrong it felt, how out of place. The light from the TV lit it up just enough that I could see it clearly. Two eyes, wide and lifeless. No fog on the glass, no movement, just watching. I froze. My body locked up completely. I didn't scream. I didn't even say anything at first. I just stared at it, and it stared back. Eventually, I whispered to my mom. There's someone at the window. She didn't look. She didn't even flinch.

Just gave this little sigh like I was being silly. Ignore it, she said. Just watch the television. I remember looking at her like, what do you mean ignore it? But she wouldn't look. She just kept watching the TV like nothing was wrong. My brother didn't react either. I don't think he even heard me.

But the face stayed. I kept glancing at it, expecting it to move, to knock, to scream, something. But it never did. It didn't shift or blink or. or even breathe. It just stood in the dark, watching us. Eventually, I must have fallen asleep or blacked out. I don't remember how the night ended, just that it did. For years, I wondered if it was a dream. Maybe I imagined it, but it didn't feel like a dream. I didn't wake up scared in bed.

I remember being on that sofa. I remember how heavy my mom's arm felt. I remember how my heart thumped when I whispered to her. In my 20s, I brought it up to her. We were just talking about old memories and I said, do you remember that night when I saw a face at the window? She stared at me like I was making it up. What face? He told me to ignore it, I said. We were watching TV and there was someone staring in from the front lawn. She frowned. I don't remember that at all. He must have dreamt it. She wasn't joking. She genuinely didn't remember. My brother didn't either, but I do. And the thing that still creeps me out about this, who stands outside? Who stands outside? someone's house in the middle of the night. Unmoving, just watching. No knock, no prank, no explanation.

And why didn't she look? Why did she tell me to ignore it? About two years ago, I landed the job as a roofer. It was a hard job, but the money was decent enough for Toronto rent prices. Three months into the job, I started going to work sites with one other employee named Tim, changed. name for anonymity. Tim has been on the job for over 30 years, meaning he has seniority over me, and I essentially just followed his orders. One early morning, Tim and I pack up the truck and drove three hours to the middle of nowhere to do some work at a warehouse being built. When I say the middle of nowhere, I'm seriously talking about the closest signs of civilization being a farmhouse 45 minutes back where we came from, with some abandoned homes sprinkled throughout the countryside.

Our boss called us on the way to let us know there was heavy rain in the forecast and to wear our harnesses up on the roof. We finally arrived to the warehouse, which was in a huge clearing surrounded by dense forest. It was a massive building with a sketchy dirt trail that led up to it. Heavy dark skies were above, but no rain. We drove the truck up, unloaded it, and entered the only accessible part of the building, quickly getting to work. The hours started moving by, but it was hard not to be a little unsettled by the uncanny feeling of being the only two people in such a massive warehouse. Tim stayed by the entrance the entire time, cutting metal sheets for me, as I carried them up the only side staircase to the roof.

After a couple hours, I felt some raindrops and headed down the stairs for the hundredth time to inform Tim. When I reached the main floor, I saw Tim finishing up the next bundle of metal sheets for me to take back up. Hey, it's starting to rain. Tim looked up and replied, well, it's lunch now anyways, take a seat. He opened his cooler, took out a thermos, and sat down to eat. I said, I'll just take this up real quick first,

and gestured to the small stack of metal sheets on the floor. Tim nodded in approval, and I picked up the stack and took off to the staircase. I walked up past the second and third floor and made it to the roof. It was really starting to rain hard now. On my way back down, going past the second floor, I nearly had a fucking heart attack, seeing someone at the end of the hallway by the window.

I stopped to get a good look and saw another construction worker who definitely wasn't Tim standing there, looking out at the rain, smoking a cigarette about 15 feet from me. I've only been on the job three months now and knew how much shit I'd get in if my boss found out that someone was smoking inside the building. So I called out to him, hey man, we can't smoke in here. No response. He just kept staring at the window facing the opposite direction, smoking a cigarette. I called that again, Yo, no response.

Annoyed, but not surprised, I headed down the last flight of stairs to the ground floor and told Tim how a worker was upstairs smoking. What? he said. Eyes widened. Nobody should be here. I've been here the whole time. This confused me, but I'm a pretty rational thinker

and just assumed that another crew must have came without our knowledge and someone walked by Tim maybe while he was cutting metal and didn't notice. Show me where he is, Tim said. and I took him to the stairs. I knew confrontation was imminent as we started climbing towards the second floor. The smell of smoke filled the entire stairwell. We arrived at the second floor and it was empty. He must have went up, I assured Tim.

We checked the third floor and the roof and it was completely vacant. The entire warehouse was empty. We were and are still the only people here. The only thing that lingered was the smell of a freshly smoked cigarette. Tim freaked out, and instead of explaining to me why, he showed me a news article from four weeks prior, stating that a worker fell off the roof of this same building, without a harness, and died. Tim knew this happened, but didn't know it was this exact location until searching up the article. This spooked us pretty bad, and it's been the only experience I've had which was I can only describe as paranormal.

Tell me what you think, Snook. I have no explanation. There was only one way into the building and one and staircase. Somehow this person appeared and disappeared out of thin air. And wow, dude, that's crazy. That's scary shit too. I mean, you're out in the middle of nowhere. So most likely it wasn't just, you know, some stranger walking by. 45 minutes since the last warehouse, he said. So definitely not someone. I mean, is there any chance the owner or anything was, you know, around smoking? But it's also weird he didn't respond to you. And, yeah, the final. nail in the coffin, somebody died there four weeks prior. That's crazy.

I mean, I don't necessarily believe in ghosts, but I also don't necessarily not believe in ghosts, if that makes sense, guys. That's scary as shit. That's definitely spooky, and I, that sounds paranormal to me. I mean, unless it's the owner of the warehouse or if there's any chance in other buildings around, but you could still smell the cigarette smoke, he could still smell it, So it's not like you were just imagining it or hallucinating it or anything like that. Because that's another alternative that's possible.

You were hallucinating. But I don't believe you were. That's creepy. And that's super scary. I'm really interested if you ever went back or if you had more work there. Did you ever, you know, experience anything else weird? And also, is there a picture of the guy who passed away? And did you recognize kind of the ghost or the figure?

did you have the same hair, same outfit, that sort of stuff, because that would be crazy. But a super great story, to be honest, and super scary. And that also wraps up today's video. Thank you so much for watching today's video. And this was a bit of a shorter one, but it was shorter because I honestly didn't have enough scary stories to include to make this video longer. So the amount of stories you guys send in means you'll have longer videos and vice versa. So this one's a bit shorter.

I mean, 40 minutes. That's a healthy video in my video. opinion but that's a little bit short for my channel please comment down below what you thought about today's video if enjoyed it didn't enjoy it anything else like that but thank you so much for watching to the end it really means the world you guys are the best this community is awesome and if you're not a part of the community already please subscribe you won't regret clicking that button and yeah please like the video as well help so much and thank you so much for watching and this is snook and I'll see

you next time bye