Snook - Disturbing Reddit Horror Stories

Episode Date: September 10, 2025

These are some Disturbing Reddit Horror Stories! I thought all of these stories were great! Thank you guys for watching, let me know if you would like to see more content like this in the future! The 1st story in this video was by far my favorite, so make sure you watch to at least that part! Thanks for watching, like and subscribe. CREDITS - u/abalonetea - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1ih75t9/i_caught_something_on_my_trail_cam_its_trying_to/ u/Hunan4Ever - https://www.reddit.com/r/shortscarystories/comments/1jz5zs1/room_for_rent/ MayofTay - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1mq53n1/my_girlfriend_of_one_year_broke_up_with_me_after/ u/blue_skeleton666 - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1mqihr4/ill_never_forget_what_i_saw_at_my_friends_house/ u/Hunan4Ever - https://www.reddit.com/r/GrimReaderRealm/comments/1jhznf0/emergency_alert_do_not_open_your_door_3_parts/ u/abalonetea - https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/1hzuhlv/if_you_find_a_crying_child_on_the_trail_dont/ I was granted permission to use all of these stories. Make sure to check out all of the original authors.Yes, my voice is human. The channels subscriber goal is 1 million, so subscribe! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to another Reddit stories video. And today we're getting into some disturbing Reddit horror stories. Today's stories are great. They're amazing. They're disturbing. And they are horror stories. So you'll want to stick around. They're just super good.

And please sit back, relax, and grab a drink, grab a snack, and just find a comfy spot to listen to these stories or whatever you're doing. And please like the video and subscribe to the channel. It helps more than you know. And yeah, enough yapping. Without further ado, let's get into. some disturbing Reddit horror stories. I caught something on my trail cam.

It's trying to pretend it's a cat. By Ablon T. I set up the trail cams after something got into my chicken coop. It wasn't a fox or a coyote. They leave messes. Bloody ones. Let me tell you, I've cleaned up more than a few of those over the years. This one, it was precise.

The wire was clipped. The latch was open. And four of my best layers were gone without a tree. trace. I live out here alone, so I had no one to back me up when I told the story, but I know what I saw, or rather what I didn't see, and I didn't see no damn coyote. You sure about that? Hayes asked, down at the general store. I know what a mess they make. Someone stole them. Who's out here stealing your hands, Carrie? I don't know. I slot my money down on the counter. That's the point of the cameras. I'm going to see who took them. Hayes looked amused. You think that chicken thing,

thieves are going to come back around a second time? Yes. And if they don't, just give me the damn cameras. And up they went. The first few nights, I caught the usual critters, raccoons scuttling through the underbrush, a few deer passing through, even a bobcat slinking them along the tree line. But they didn't clip the wire and cleanly steal my hands, so I left them be. It was five nights before something else came onto the screen. At first, I thought it was a mountain lion. Big, sleek, moving low to the ground of purpose. It padded right through the frame of my western-facing camera at 2.47 a.m. But something about it was off. The legs were too long. The way the skin bunched around the joints looked unnatural. Like it had extra folds. It didn't

know what to do with. And when it turned its head slightly, the eye was all wrong. Too round, too bright. Like a human eye catching the light. I convinced myself I was seeing things. Low resolution, bad angle, maybe even a trick of the light, but I kept the cameras up. The next night, it came back. This time, I got a full body shot. The skin around its shoulders were peeling, like an old leather jacket stretched over something too big for it. I could see the wet sinew beneath, the way it glistened under the moon.

The face was the worst part. It had the shape of a mountain line, but the edges didn't sit right. as if it had been pulled too tight in the mouth. The mouth turned to the camera, and it smiled. Then it was gone, vanished into the darkness. I had no proof for it, but I knew in my heart whatever I just caught on film was the culprit. That creature, it was the one that took my hands. Just my luck that it wasn't the local kids bored and looking for something to do.

Just my luck, it had to be whatever that was. I didn't sleep that night. I kept the shotgun by my bed. Every light in the house on. My closest neighbor is six miles out, and I wasn't about to call the sheriff over a mountain line with a weird face, but I didn't shut my eyes once. It was just wrong feelings to do that.

You're letting it get to you, Carrie, I exhaled, acting just as bad as when you were drinking, got yourself jumping at shadows. Nope, there was no chance I was tricking myself into relaxing. My eyes were still open when the dawn came. came. The night after that, the camera by my coop caught it standing on two legs. It was blurry, sure, but the shape was unmistakable. It had the hind legs of a big cat, but its torso was wrong, too long, too thin. The skin had slagged off in places, leaving exposed ribs and raw muscle.

The face, it wasn't a cat's anymore. Does that make sense? It still had the skull of a cat, the ears, the fur, but the fur was sort of slipping back like a hood, and the muzzle had been twisted up somehow, or bent down, or just car hit broken in a way that let the smile get wider. The mouth gaping open in a way no animal should. In the eyes, no doubt about it. Human. It looked at the camera again, and then I watched as it took its hands and snapped the chicken wire with its bare hands.

I ran out at dawn, yanked down every camera, and dumped it. them in the shed. I figured if I ignored it, it would go away. Childish, sure, but what else could I do? Go out there and face it? Just the thought had me shaking in my boots. So I told myself I was seeing things, that I had been awake for too long, looking for something that wasn't there. This morning, I found the last remaining trail cam sitting on my front porch. I know I didn't put it there. I hadn't even looked at the footage yet. My hand shook as I clicked through the fly. The final image was taken at 3.12 a.m. The creature was no longer walking through the woods. It was standing right in front of the camera. Too close. Its torn skin hanging in strips.

Its mouth was open wide. Its lips peeled back, revealing rows of jagged, uneven teeth. In its eyes, they were staring right into the lens. Into me. Then, in the last frame, it screamed. I don't remember throwing the camera. I don't remember running back inside. But I remember the sound. It wasn't caught on video. But I heard it. A high canine whale, like metal tearing,

like something forcing its way through flesh that was never meant to hold it. I haven't left the house since. I don't know what it wants. But I know one thing. It's watching me now. And hands that can snap wire can easily figure out how to open a flimsy wooden door. Room for Rent by Hunan Forever I found the listing online

Furnished basement room for rent Private entrance $400 a month No pets, no questions It was sketchy but I was desperate I just lost my job And my savings were circling the drain The landlord was a tall, thin man

Who didn't smile He handed me a key Told me the rules Stay in my room after 9 p.m. Don't go to upstairs. Never look through the keyhole. I laughed. He didn't. People think they want to know. They don't. I should have walked away. Instead, I moved in. The first night was uneventful, except for the sound of footsteps above me, constant pacing all night. Fast, then slow,

then faster again, like someone running in circles. On the third night, I woke up to scraping, not footsteps, nails dragging across the ceiling. I went upstairs despite the rules. The hallway was pitch black. Every door shut, except one at the far end. Open a crack. Soft, wet breathing echoed from it. I turned back.

The next morning the landlord stood at my door. You went up, he said. Not angry. Sad. I didn't go in, I told him. Doesn't matter. It saw you. That night, the pacing turned into thumping, something slamming against the floor above.

I stuffed towels under my door, turned the TV up, and prayed for daylight. At 3.12 a.m., the power died. Silence. Then knocking. Not on the front door. On my bedroom door. Three slow knocks. I didn't move.

I didn't breathe. Then a voice, soft and gurgling. Let me in. I want to see who you are. I stayed frozen until morning. When the sun rose, the door was wide open. The landlord was gone. His car, his things, all of it.

I called the police. They searched the house. Only one thing was strange, they said. There's no upstairs. The blueprint showed a one-story home, no second floor, no staircase. They thought I was crazy. But last night, I found the keyhole he warned me about, in the hallway, hidden behind a false panel.

My hands were shaking. I looked. All I saw was an eye. Looking back. Not a human. Too wide. All pupil. Then it whispered.

Found you. Now I hear footsteps again. Only this time. They're below me. My girlfriend of one year broke up with me after my head injury. Seven months later, I found out why. By May of Tay. Earlier this year, my ex-girlfriend, Alexandra, broke up with me for reasons that she still hasn't

told me herself. The weeks before the breakup are a blur to me. I'd sustained a head injury with no memory of how, and I suspect that's the reason I can't recall anything I'd supposedly done slash said to her. Alex and I had both known each other since secondary school, but only became a couple during our first year of university. We're now on our second year, and our accommodations are about 20 minutes apart. Three days ago, Alex's diary came to me in the mail. Presumably, she's the one who sent it to me, but I have no way of knowing. Upon reading the entries from the dates, I have no memory of, I had an unshakable feeling of terror, one that hasn't left me since. Some additional context needed for the story. Bunny Bunny was an infamous Facebook group back in 2022 in which members

would post oversaturated pictures of school kids, predominantly male, along. along with a rating out of five carrots. This was often accompanied by an unsettling caption like, Unique Taste or Beautiful Mouth. The group began to circulate around most schools in my area, and it was all anyone could talk about. The leading theory among students was that local predators were using the group to rate potential victims.

But there was never any evidence to support this. The group was promptly banned from Facebook after the parents of each child featured had discovered the posts. After the incident, and a few dozen complaints to my school, we were forbidden from talking about it again, out of respect for the students involved. Below are extracts from the diary that I've shortened to include only the parts about me, during the days leading up to our breakup. Tuesday, 7th of January.

Daniel was ignoring me all day. He usually sends me a cute message every morning to start the day on a good note, but today he didn't message me until about 5 p.m. When he finally responded, he asked if I wanted to come up. over, and I enthusiastically said yes. But when I arrived, his behavior was unusual. He gave me an odd smile and appeared to be acting shy around me, glaring at me like he was starstruck. I thought it was cute and assumed he just thought I looked really pretty that day. There was also a noticeable bruise on the left side of his forehead, which was worrying me, but he was dismissive whenever I

mentioned it. It's nothing. Stop worrying. I decided to drop it because he was visibly annoyed by my comments, and I was afraid I'd embarrassed him. Friday, 10th of January. Daniel's behavior is becoming concerning. He isn't attending his lectures like he normally does, and he keeps forgetting basic things like where he's left his keys, dates, we have planned, passwords for his emails, etc. And there's this awful smell coming from his bed. He's also picked up weird habits, ones that he's never showed signs of having before, habits such as licking his lips whenever he sees me, smelling my hair, squeezing me tighter than he usually would whenever we embrace, and barely blinking. I think the worst of it, though, is the obvious decline in his hygiene.

He isn't showering or brushing his teeth unless I bring it up, and I have to practically force him to. We share the same skin care products, and it's blatantly obvious that he's neglecting them. Monday, 13th of January. Last night, I went to Daniel's accommodation after my lecture, and he was even more disheveled than he has been for the past few days. His eyes were bloodshot, and his breathing was very apparent. It almost sounded as though he was running out of air. I asked him if he was feeling okay, and he practically lunged at me and started it aggressively making out with me. This caught me by surprise, so I pushed him away as hard as I could, but still, he kept trying to climb on top of me.

I yelled, what the fuck is wrong with you? Ned seemed to snap him out of it, but periodically throughout the rest of the day, he kept trying to convince me to sleep with him. As the night grew darker, Daniel became more frustrated. Whenever I dared to shut down his creepy advances, he'd just stare at me like a wild animal. Honestly, it was beginning to creep me out. He had this expressionless look on his face. He wasn't blinking, and his eyes were even starting to well up with tears. I went to go brush my teeth to get away from the situation, but when I came back a few minutes later, he was completely knocked out, like he'd already been asleep for hours. I realized his eyes were probably so bloodshot due to exhaustion, and fortunately for me, the sleep had

finally caught up to him. Relieved, I grabbed my phone and immediately called an Uber, so I didn't have to walk back to my accommodation alone. But right after making the payment, I saw something moving in the lower corner of my eye. I quickly shifted my gaze downwards and saw a person's hand, slowly creeping its way out from underneath Daniel's bed. There's no words to describe the fear I felt in this moment. I was stood, paralyzed, whilst this middle-aged man started emerging from below my boyfriend's unconscious body. The man was slightly overweight, balding, and he looked like a weak old corpse.

After he stood upright, we locked eyes for a moment, and his mouth twisted into the most horrific smile I've ever seen before, uttering the words, thank you. At that moment, I snapped out of whatever petrified trance I was in, screamed as loud as I could, and ran straight out of the building without wasting any time to grab any of my possessions. Tuesday, 16th of January. I've been staying at my parents' house for the past three days, just trying to wrap my head around the whole Daniels situation. He's gone back to sending me good morning texts like nothing's happened, and he claims to

have no idea who the man under his bed was. What I would want to know is why he said, Thank you. Was he recording us? Was Daniel aware of this and getting paid to fulfill that man's perverted fantasy of spying in a 19-year-old girl? Maybe that's why he was so determined to have S-word with me all day, and why he got mad when I kept refusing. I think I'm just going to cut him out of my life because this whole situation has tainted the way that I see him. Friday 17th of January. This morning, I received an email from a former classmates at my old school with a link attached. The link was for a Facebook group called Rabbit Rabbit.

I clicked the link out of curiosity and wasn't at all prepared for what I was about to see. The group was Bunny Bunny, in everything but name. Hundreds of posts of children and teens being raided with carrots. These creeps have been active in posting this whole time, at least two posts a day for the last year. My anger was short-lived, though, and quickly turned into horror when I scrolled down and was greeted by a familiar face on a post from two days. Tuesday the 14th, the profile picture of the user who posted it was the same twisted smile I saw back in Daniel's room. It was the man under his bed. His username was Elmer Fudd. And to my

utter shock, he'd posted an oversaturated selfie of Daniel with five karat emojis across his forehead. The caption read, comfortable skin. End of diary extracts. I checked the selfie used in the Rabbit Rabbit Post, which is surprisingly still up. and I don't remember taking it. I thought Alex was lying when she asked me about a so-called man who crawled out from under the bed. I hope somebody here can make sense of all of this, but I think it's best I try not to contact her anymore. I'll never forget what I saw my friend's house by Blue underscore Skeleton 666. What we saw that night at my friend's house, I'll never forget it.

It wasn't something unexplainable, not paranormal. That would have almost been comforting. In a way, knowing it came from outside our world, even if it was terrifying, but this, this was much more real. It was a brutal winter during school break. We were 16 and already hanging out almost every weekend at my friend's place drinking and playing video games. Our favorite, and really stupid pastime, was penalty shootouts in FIFA.

And every time someone got scored on, they had to take a shot of the cheapest vodka we could find. Yeah, it was dumb, really stupid, but we laughed our asses off. My best memories are in that room, far away at the end of my friend's house right next to the laundry room and before the back porch. His mom couldn't complain about the noise, and she had no clue how insanely much alcohol we were down in just for fun, or so we thought. That night didn't seem any different. I left my house and told my mom I was going over to Luke's. She knew exactly what that meant, but she was, let's say, selectively permissive. She couldn't stand to see me drink or smoke, but if I did it behind her back, suddenly it wasn't a problem. On the way, I stopped by Mrs. Rosita's Corner Store, the old lady that

used to sell me cigarettes and booze, even though she knew that I was still in high school. Same as always, a pack of smokes and the cheapest vodka they had. I was the first to get to Luke's. His mom gave me this quick side glance in a knowing smile when she heard the clink of the bottle against my keys in my backpack. but like my mom, she wasn't going to get involved. I went straight to the back room. Luke was already drinking a beer. God knows where he'd gotten it from.

And playing a game that I thought was a shooter at first, but it turned out to be horror. He had a hoodie on and a blanket that covered him completely. I could only see his head and his hands, which struck me as a bit weird. Then again, that room, as much as we loved it, was freezing as hell. No heat. The window closed, but somehow the wind still found a way in. Inside there was just an old mattress on the floor. an even older TV, and our holy grail, the PlayStation 2.

Five minutes after I got there, we were already playing the stupid penalty shot game. Meanwhile, we talked about the usual, girls, half-baked rumors, and other pointless crap 16-year-olds love to obsess over. Now, I loved Luke. He was my best friend, and I always was very supportive of him, no matter what. But his relationship with his girlfriend was odd. She was insanely jealous to the point where even as a dumb teenager, I knew it was way over the line. She usually didn't come to her hangouts, thank God.

But every once in a while, she just show up out of nowhere, like she was hoping to catch Luke cheating. We talked about it that night. He was fed up. I didn't get why he didn't just break up with her. He said if he didn't answer a text within a minute, she'd call him. If he didn't wake up before her texts good morning, she'd block him. Any interaction with a girl was enough to set her off. The S is good, really good.

Though she's into some weird stuff, he said. I pushed him to explain. He was always the kind of guy to overshare and laugh about it, but this time he was dead serious. Anyway, the night went on like usual. The rest of the guy showed up, and the four of us played our penalty shot game until the drinks ran out.

It was late, but Rositas was still open. The neighborhood was pretty quiet, but at that hour, you still have to keep your eyes open. We all left our phones in the room. Luke said it was too cold to go out. So the rest of us went and we stayed behind plane. As soon as we stepped outside, we saw Luke's girlfriend at the gate, phone in hand, a small hello kitty backpack over her shoulder.

I unlocked the gate and let her in. She didn't say a word to us. She hated all of us for reasons we never understood. Once we turned the corner, we started cracking up. She couldn't have been any weirder. And whatever was about to go down inside, it wasn't going to be pretty. We took our time getting back just to avoid the awkwardness. but after half an hour, the cold was just unbearable, so we headed back anyway.

No yelling, no voices. That was a relief. Maybe we dodged the drama. When we got closer, though, we heard these wet sounds. That's the only way I can describe it. We thought we were about to walk in on some very awkward BJ. So being the assholes we were, we crept up to the door sneaking. I flung the door open and we all froze.

One of my friends ran to the back porch and threw up before. or he even made it outside. Luke was lying shirtless on the old mattress. His torso and arms were covered in poorly healed wounds. Patches of skin was missing. Dry, leathery flesh and fresh raw muscle where a new chunk had just been taken him from his forearm. Next to him was his girlfriend.

Chewing a strip of skin and muscle, her teeth sinking into it with a sick, gummy sound. She didn't even stop when she saw us. She swallowed the piece, wiped her mouth, and with a cloth napkin from her hello kitty backpack, stood up and left. Luke begged us not to tell his mom, said he was handling it, that she was dangerous, that he couldn't just leave her. Somehow, we believed him. I think we were too shocked to think straight. I didn't see Luke much that winter. He stopped answering my Facebook messages. When school started again, we found out he'd moved to another city. months later he texted me and said he had no choice he had to get as far from her as possible we met up again eventually

we still hang out every now and then we never talk about it he wants to leave it in the past pretend it didn't happen and honestly i want that too but i can't erase that image from my mind or the sound that sick gummy chewing sound of her eating that piece of flesh eating that piece of flesh Emergency Alert. Do Not Open Your Door by Hunan Forever. Have you ever been alone at night and heard something outside your door? A knock, a voice, the creek of footsteps on your porch? Maybe you told yourself it was the wind, or an animal, or just your mind playing tricks on you. I used to believe that too. Until the night I got the emergency alert, until I learned the truth, There are things outside your door that aren't supposed to be let in, and they know how to make you open it.

I had just finished a long day. Work had been exhausting. My brain was fried. I wanted nothing more than to collapse onto my bed and let sleep take me. The apartment was quiet, too quiet, the way it always got at night, the kind of quiet where every little sound feels too loud, where the air itself feels heavier. I just pulled my blankets over me when my phone vibrated. Buzz. A sharp jolt of noise in the silence. I sighed, rolling over and searching for it, expecting some random notification. But when I saw the words on my screen, my stomach twisted.

Emergency alert. Do not open your door. No matter who knocks, no matter what they say. I blinked. Read it again. Who was they? I wanted it again. What kind of alert was that? A joke? Some kind of weird test? My mind raced for an explanation, but before I could process it, knock, knock, I froze. The sound was soft, rhythmic, right outside my apartment door. I swallowed. My throat suddenly dry. My body locked up, every nerve screaming. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Maybe it was just a neighbor. Then, knock knock, louder this time. I hesitated, then slid out of my bed, my bare feet pressing against the cold, floor. My heart pounded against my ribs. The room felt smaller now, the air thick and still. I grabbed my phone with trembling fingers. Another message had come through. Do not answer. Do not respond. Do not acknowledge it. A chill ran through me. Then a voice. Soft. Familiar. Hey, I know you're in there. My stomach lurched. I knew that voice. It was my mom's. that was impossible. She lived three states away. I took a step back, gripping my phone so

tightly, my knuckles turned white. Knock knock. Honey, open the door. It's me. No. No, it wasn't. I knew it wasn't. My breathing turned shallow. The room felt colder. The shadow stretching unnaturally crossed the walls. The thing outside my door shifted. I could hear it moving. slow and deliberate. Please, something's wrong. I need your help. My chest tightened. It sounded so real, so desperate, so much like her.

I squeezed my eyes shut. My hands were trembling. Another message. It knows you heard it. Do not speak. Do not let it in. I bit my lip. Hard enough to taste blood.

Knock knock. The voice wavered now. Softer. I don't understand. Why won't you help me? A trick. It had to be a trick, didn't it? I turned, back and away from the door,

trying to ignore the way my body screamed at me to move closer, to check, to help. Then, my phone buzzed violently. Do not look through the peephole. Do not check the windows. It wants you to see it. A fresh wave of terror crashed over me. It knew.

It knew I had almost done it. I forced myself to turn away. My hand shaking so badly, I nearly dropped my phone. Then, scraping. Slow. Deliberate. Something dragging across the wood of my door.

Then a whisper. Right against the crack. You want it open it, don't you? My entire body locked up. No, I didn't. I wouldn't, but I could feel it. The urge. A wrong, unnatural pull, like an itch inside my skull.

Like my hands needed to unlock the door. Like my body wasn't my mind. anymore. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, grounding myself in the pain. Then, another buzz. It will sound like someone you know. It will know things only they would know. Ignore it, no matter what. My blood ran cold. And then the thing outside started crying, not just crying, sobbing, heavy, gasping, broken sobs. I just, I just want to see you. I gritted my teeth, shaking my head. No, no, no.

The sobs turned into a whimper. And then a whisper, right against the door. Come on, sweetheart, you always open the door for me. My stomach dropped because it was right I always had. But not tonight. Not this time. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my back against the wall, my breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.

My entire body felt stiff, locked in place by something older than fear. Then, silence. A thick, unnatural silence. The kind that makes your ears ring. The kind that tells you something is still there. Waiting. Watching. Then, a final buzz.

Do not open the door until sunrise. Do not check if it is gone. I sat there, frozen. My pulse hammering against my ribs. I didn't sleep. I barely even breathed. But I didn't move. Not until the first light of dawn seeped through the blinds.

Not until I heard the birds outside. Not until the clock on my phone switched to 6.45 a.m. Then, and only then, did I crawl toward the door. I pressed my palm against the wood. It was ice cold. I looked through the peep hole. It was then I saw a long, dark shadow quickly running into a wall. I fell backwards, but I got the courage to come back up and check again.

Nothing. Just the empty hallway. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was. holding. Maybe it was over. Maybe I had imagined it. Maybe then a final notification. It will try again tonight. I stared at the screen, my throat closing up, and from somewhere in the walls a faint, distant knock. Knock, knock, in a whisper. I know you'll open it next time. Part two. The first night, I didn't open the door, but I knew it wasn't over. I barely slept. Every sound felt like a whisper, every shadow a trick of the light, but nothing came. No knocks, no voices, no sobbing.

Until 11.58 p.m. the next night, two minutes before midnight, knock, knock. I sat up so fast my vision blurred. My phone was already in my hand. My breath hitched as they checked the screen. Nothing. No emergency alert this time. Knock, knock. I clenched my jaw, my entire body tensed. The air felt thick again and wrong. It even smelled like rotten meat, but I jolted at the sound that came shooting through the air. The voice, I know you're awake. My stomach twisted. I knew that voice. I knew it too well because this time it wasn't my mother's. It was mine. I felt the blood drained from my face. My limbs locked up. No, no, no, no. The voice behind the door led out a soft, breathy laugh. You didn't open the door last time. It was me. Every word.

every breath sounded exactly like me. I get it, the voice continued. You were scared. A pause. I covered my mouth of my hand, swallowing back the nausea creeping up my throat. Then the voice whispered, but you want to see, don't you?

The thing outside shifted. I heard it press against the door, the wood creaking under its weight. You need to see. My fingers twitched. No, I didn't. I wouldn't. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to breathe through my nose, forcing my body to stay still.

Then, a vibration. My phone lit up in my hand. A notification. New message from unknown. Do not react. Do not listen. Do not let it in. My grip tightened.

Outside, the thing that sounded like me sighed. Come on, it murmured. Why are I making this so difficult? I crawled backwards, but still I didn't feel better. Suddenly, I heard more noises. Scraping, slow, deliberate, like nails dragging across the door, then a tap, right against the peephole. I bit down on my lip, fighting the urge to scream. My phone buzzed again.

New message from unknown. It will try to break you. It will use your own voice against you. My body was trembling. The thing outside let out another soft laughed. You really think this little warning is going to save you? I sucked in a breath. Then I heard something that made my blood freeze, the door handle.

It was turning, slowly, deliberately, testing. A sharp, unnatural fear shot through me, wrapping itself around my ribs, squeezing tight. No, no, no, no, no. My phone vibrated violently in my hand. New message from unknown. Do not move. Do not make a sound. I pressed myself against the wall, forcing my breath to slow.

The handle stopped turning. For a moment there was silence. but a sound broke it. A whisper. Lower this time. Right against the door frame. You think locking the door will keep me out? A pause.

Then something different. A second voice. Weaker. Fainter. One I did not recognize. Please. Help me. My breath hitched.

No. No, that wasn't real. It wasn't real. The thing outside laughed. And then in footsteps. Slow, steady, fading. After that, there was no noise, just silence. A silence that stretched for minutes, then hours.

I stayed frozen until the first light of morning slipped through the blinds. Only then did I finally check my phone. One last message sat on the screen. Do not leave your home after midnight. It knows where you are now. I let the phone slip from my fingers. And from the hallway, a soft, distant knock. Final part.

The knocking started again. Soft. Rhythmic. I wasn't sleeping. I didn't slept in days. My body was weak, trembling from exhaustion, but my mind was sharper than ever. The warnings had been clear. Do not open the door.

No matter what. But tonight, it wasn't just knocking. Tonight, it was pleading. Jason. A voice I knew. A voice I had loved once. Mom. I stopped breathing.

My throat locked up as I clenched my hands into fists. No, it wasn't her. It couldn't be her. She was dead. Dead. But the voice, it sounded wet. Like something thick, bubbled behind her words. Like something trying too hard to sound human.

I'm still here, sweetheart, she whispered. I never left. Something shifted on the other side of the door. Something heavy. Something breathing. I gritted my teeth, staring at the screen of my phone. Another warning flashed. Do not open the door.

It is lying. My vision blurred with unshed tears. I knew that, and yet there was something else now. A new sound. Scraping. Not on the door. Under it. A soft, deliberate dragging sound like something long and wet was being pulled across the floor.

Then fingernails. A row of nails scraped against the wood, slow and method. As if whoever, whatever, whatever was on the other side was testing it. I swallowed bile. My body screamed at me to move, to run, but I couldn't. And then I saw it. The gap beneath the door. Something pushed through.

Not fingers. Not a hand. It was a mouth. A wide, gaping mouth with too many teeth, stretching from cheek to cheek. It pressed against the floor, grinning, tongue slithering out like a leech, tasting the air. I choked on my own breath. The mouth twitched, stretching too far.

The lips splitting like paper soaked in water. The gums were raw and oozing. The teeth jagged, some too long, some shattered down to the root, and then it spoke. But the voice didn't come from the mouth on the floor. It came from everywhere. Please, Jason. Just let me in. The thing under the door quivered, and then it pushed.

The door bulged. The air in the room. growing thick, suffocating. My phone vibrated violently in my hands. Final warning, if you open it, you will see. I stumbled backward, eyes locked on the grotesque thing squirming beneath the door, but then it started laughing, not one voice. Hundreds. Weasing, shrieking, choking giggles, pouring from the mouth, from the door, from the walls. The air turned rancid like rotting meat left to fester in the heat. I gagged, and then the knocking stopped. The mouth, froze. Silence. Then a whisper. Soft. So soft. So soft. You want to see. Don't you? And before I could stop myself,

I reached for the lock. Click. The door burst open. A hand, not a hand, lunged for me. fingers stretching too long, skin, pale, and slimy. Nails splitting open as if they curled around my wrist. I screamed, the room folded, the walls ripped like liquid, and suddenly I was falling, falling through something wet, something pulsing, something that breathed around me. I hit the ground hard. The floor beneath me wasn't wood anymore. It was flesh. I sucked in a breath and gagged. The air was thick, warm, putrid. I tried to push myself up, but my My hands sank into the floor, a floor that was soft, wet, bleeding where my fingers pressed. I wasn't in my house anymore.

I was inside it. A voice echoed all around me. Now you understand. I turned, and I saw. They were all here. The ones who had opened their doors. Twisted. Changed.

Their bodies fused into the walls. Their faces stretched into horrific grins. Their eyes rolled back, mouths gaping open and silent screams. And they were still alive. twitching, whispering. They had let it in, and now they were part of it. I staggered back, bile rising in my throat, the flesh beneath me shuddered, something huge stirred in the darkness, something waiting, something hungry.

Then a new door appeared in front of me, wooden, identical to mine, except this time I was on the other side, and behind it I heard knocking. soft, rhythmic, a voice, trembling, desperate. Hello? A boy's voice. Small, scared, just like I had been. My stomach dropped. I knew what was happening. I knew what I had become. And when the voice whispered, please let me in, I smiled. If you find a crying child on the trail, don't follow them by Ablon T. My girlfriend and I are seasoned hikers. We've tackled everything from rugged mountain trails to swampy mosquito-infested paths, and we've always made it out unscathed.

But this time was different. This time, the trail almost didn't let us go. It started with a warning. I know, that sounds over the top, but it's true. The guy at the ranger station, a wiry, middle-aged man with a leathery face, looked up from his clipboard as we signed in. You two stick into the main trail? He sounded like he must have smoked four packs a day for the last decade.

Planning on taking the loop trail up to the summit, I replied. We've been looking into it for a while and we think the weather's right for it this weekend. We've never been through Bar Q Park before, but we've heard that it's beautiful. My girlfriend curled her arm through mine and rested her cheek on my shoulder. It's going to be great. I think he might have something special plan for us. I didn't. My smile turned nervous.

The Ranger hesitated. His pen hovering over the paper. Could he tell I didn't have a ring? Was he about to out me? No. He braced a hand on the counter and leaned forward. Eyes serious beneath bushy eyebrows. Stick to the marked paths.

And if you hear anything strange like a kid crying, you keep walking. Don't stop. Don't look. Just keep going. What? My girlfriend gave a nervous laugh. Don't want you to get lost. The ranger's eyes didn't waver.

People go looking for what they shouldn't and not all of them come back. We decided it was just some backwood superstition to spook tourists. What else could it be? So after we brushed off the nerves, we shouldered our packs and started up the trail. The first few hours were uneventful. Just the two of us surrounded by towering pines, the crunch of dirt and leaves underfoot, in the occasional bird call. If you've ever been on a hike before, well, there you go.

Standard day. My girlfriend kept looking over me. Eyes gone to honey. I didn't know why she thought this was a special proposal trip. It wasn't until we parked. I even realized that's what her expectations were set. And my attention? Yeah, I was trying to figure out what I was going to do to cushion the blow when we hit the summit.

Then we heard it. A child's voice. Crying. We stopped dead in her tracks. Amber froze. Her eyes wide. Do you hear that? I nodded.

My stomach twisting into knots. It sounded like a little girl, maybe six or seven years old. Help me. She was calling out. her voice breaking with sobs please help me mommy daddy her voice grew quiet with fear anyone hello are you okay i called

my voice bouncing off the trees the crying stopped for a moment the force was silent too silent no wind no birds nothing then the crying started again louder this time closer we need to check it out amber said

already stepping off the trail she waved her arms to the side to keep her balance as she made her way down the incline. Every instinct I had screamed at me to stop her. The ranger said, screw what the ranger said, she snapped. If it was your kid out there, wouldn't she want someone to help? She had a point. Against my better judgment, I followed her down the incline and into the trees. The crying led us deeper into the woods. Help me, someone, please. She sounded frantic. But the further we went, the more I noticed something was off. The voice wasn't changing direction.

Normally, if someone's lost, their voice shifts as they move or turn their head, but this sound, it was static, like it was coming from a fixed point. The ranger's warning came back to mind. My steps started to slow down. Amber, I think we should go back. Something's not right. I can't find you, please. I'm scared.

The kid was sobbing now. Stop acting like a jerk, Amber snapped. She's got to be right ahead of us. Amber was right. 20 more feet and we saw her. She was sitting on a fallen log, her back to us, wearing a dirty pink jacket and clutching her knees to her chest. Hey, sweetie, Amber called gently, stepping closer.

Are you lost? Where are your parents? The girl didn't answer. She just kept crying. Her shoulders shaking with each sob. Please. Help me. Amber crouched down, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Wait, I said. My voice barely above whisper. Something about this felt. Wrong. Why was she just sitting there? When Amber had called for her, why hadn't she tried to find us? Amber, we should, uh, we should go get the Ranger. Come on.

The girl's crying stopped. In one smooth, jerky motion, she turned to face us. Her eyes weren't right. They were too large, too dark, reflecting the light like an animal's. You found me. Her mouth stretched wide into a grin that split her face unnaturally, revealing rows of sharp, needle-like teeth. I knew you would. I knew if I called you, you'd find me.

Then her skin, her entire skin, began to split down the middle like a zipper. I don't know what I was expecting to see underneath, but it wasn't this. It wasn't the sinewy, raw-looking creature that crawled out of its human shell like a spider shedding its exoskeleton. Amber screamed, stumbling backward. I grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet, shouting, run. So loudly, it made my throat sting. Be bolted, crashing through the underbrush, branches whipping at our faces behind us, I heard the creature give a low guttural growl, followed by the unmistakable sound of something running.

Fast. It was chasing us. We hit the incline, then the trail and didn't stop running until we burst back into the ranger station, gasping for air. The ranger looked up from his desk. His face grim. You heard it. Didn't you? We nodded, two shagging to speak.

He sighed, getting it up and locking the door. You're lucky you ran. Most people don't. We didn't ask what he meant. We didn't want to know. We've hiked dozens of trails since that day, but we've never gone back to that forest. And if we ever hear crying in the woods again,

we'll keep walking. And all right, guys, that wraps up some disturbing Reddit horror stories. I hope you enjoyed today's video. I enjoyed these stories. I really liked them. I think the apartment one or the house one where there was monsters outside was my favorite. What was your favorite? Please comment down below.

and would you like to see videos like this in the future? I read every single comment, so please comment, and I'll probably reply. Thank you so much for watching. It means the world. Check out some other videos on this channel. If you enjoyed this one and like the video and subscribe to the channel, it helps more than you know.

And yeah, this is Snook, and I'll see you next time. Bye.