Snook - Reddit Horror Stories

Episode Date: February 15, 2026

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Hey, what's up guys and welcome to Reddit Horror Stories. This video will include tons of spooky and scary true Reddit stories of scary encounters or experiences people have had. And I'll keep the intro short because I'm really excited to dive into these interesting stories. So make sure you stick around and listen to all of them because they are definitely worth the listen. And also, before we get into it, please consider subscribing to the channel and liking the video. It helps a lot and I appreciate it a ton, but all right, without further ado, welcome to write a horror stories. How My Friend and I were stalked for years and nearly kidnapped. First part of the story got deleted, so I'm going to shorten it.

Basically, a summer camp, me and my friend started to attend in 2019, does surveys every summer based on the topic we'll be discussing, so we get better public speaking and a more generalized opinion from others in the area. Me and my friend teamed up with two counselors and hit the town. Our last stop was at Walmart and we talked to a bunch of different people. The most memorable was the second to last, an older man that asked for our names and all about us after he finished answering our questions. At the time, we were both 13 with hardly any concept of stranger danger, so we gladly answered about ourselves. Anyway, a few days later, an account popped up on our friend request called Ed underscore Petise. The account linked was a bunch of old posts, commented a becino of fire and rose emojis and called us.

hot and sexy on our post. It got to the point where they started to send blank picks. So me and my friend ended up blocking the account. Only a few days later, the account was permanently deleted. It didn't show up in our searches for it. That's why we thought it was the end of it. It was not. When we finally got back to school in August, we basically forgot the event altogether. Yet, again, this time on both of our Facebook accounts, we got a notice from someone named Ed Pitez, wanting to be our friend. Immediately blocked that account. again, but not before they had already commented lewd things on my baby pictures, commented on how pretty my baby blonde hair was, how I looked good in short dresses, etc. After that, we both talked to our

parents about the situation, and other than keeping our accounts private, there wasn't much else we could really do. The cop shrugged and said, just to take the app down completely, but hey, we're teens. Of course we didn't do that. Over the years, till around the end of 2021, this man kept sending friend requests from different accounts with similar variations of their names, which was a bit stupid, but whatever. Though, at the beginning of 2022, this is where it starts to get really creepy. Accounts with the names and pictures of our friends started showing up under a notification, so obviously we added them thinking it was our friends. We were wrong.

Almost immediately, most of our posts had likes or comments on them from this account, and there were multiple DMs of blank picks from both of us. We blocked the account again. This became a reoccurring cycle. An account with friends info, pictures, and mutual friends would get hacked, stolen, duplicated, etc.,

just so they could friend us again and again without us worrying too much about it. Finally, it got to the point we stopped adding people from our school at all, even friends. The final time this happened was the summer of 2022. The swarm of fake accounts had stopped roughly two months prior and seeing as this friend request looked legit by a school friend, I decided to try it out.

My friend didn't. She was still very wary, but I decided to give it a shot. The compromise was to fully delete our socials and get new ones if this account turned out the same. I was definitely a stupid 17-year-old, but try not to judge me too harshly. But this account didn't spam our pictures, didn't DM us blank picks, just interacted with us like any normal school kid would. A like here and there on a new post, a like on a story posted, never commented on posts. So finally we thought it was over. Ha ha, wrong.

Strange things started to happen and became more of an intentional thing than a coincidence. I would post a picture of me and a friend of the park. A couple minutes later, a white truck pulled up in the lot. Earily close to my car, driver-side door. But we try not to think too much of it. There were still a few spaces over. Me and my friend were in the swings, basically straight line of sight of the parking lot. The truck lights remained on pointed out us for a long time.

It got to the point that me and my friend finally started getting worried and anxious, so we hopped up from the swings and decided to take laps around the park instead. The car was far too close to mine for us to be comfortable chancing getting into it in time. Mind you, it was 10 p.m. at night, so we were the only ones there. We waited and roamed the park for nearly an hour before the truck finally drove away. That's when we raced to my car and I drove home, looking behind me frequently, just in case. This happened in early June, and it kept happening. I didn't really notice it, thought it was a one-off occurrence. It never dawned to my head that it happened after I posted pictures of said where I was with friends.

But I started to see a white truck just about anywhere I posted about. Even one that would wait outside my high school when I posted a story about my walk to my mom's store only a mile from our school. Again, young and dumb, I didn't think the worst of it. I thought it was a parent waiting for a kid, plus there was a bunch of people that own all kinds of variations of white trucks in my town, so I never put much worrying into seeing them all the time. My friend never mentioned any white truck, and if we were together, we rarely saw any of them. But I started to get nervous of them after one time I was walking to my mom's store, I decided to take a glance at the driver of the truck that sat near the car line every day after school. It was the same, if not a bit older, man from our Walmart survey trip of 2019. It was bizarre. Definitely. We were never expecting to see him again, especially since we met him in a few towns over from our town. Yet, to lo and behold, he was right there. That's when I walked, probably ran actually to my mom's store. This kept happening, and I finally knew I was being stalked, after seeing him that first time, because I saw him everywhere on foot. Anyway, this post is getting long, so it'll fast forward to the last bit that happened on the last day of our shared summer camp in late July, 2023.

At this point, I was still 17, and since I was older than most of my new campers, I might as well had been considered a staff member. I drove kids to camp and home every night, and they paid me for the gas money, so I was cool with doing it. Didn't bother me since they were in the same town as me, and there was others farther away from the counselors typically drove me home. This day, I posted all the last day campfire pictures right before I left so I could try and save my phone that was suffering from glitches, lack of data, and didn't let me communicate or call. call others because my storage was too full. So I photo dumped a bunch of stuff, but it didn't fix the problem. My phone was essentially broken. It hardly worked, and I bought my current phone after this

occurrence. On top of this, one of the older campers that visited us on the last day, who was 19 in a mail, didn't have a phone either, but he also was in the car with me, in the back seat. I had three campers. One didn't have a phone either, and the other two were dead. One was charging theirs with my carport, but we didn't think much of it. Just turn on the radio full blast, and gunned it back home. As I pulled off the back road of our camp up to the intersection, the light turned green and we went forwards. And the lane next to us was a white truck that kept turning his brights on and off. It was a bit weird, so I sped up, but I didn't think much of it. Side note, my best friend, let's call her Anne for this, has a baby.

Anne had her kid at 16, so at this point her kid was nearly a year old, still very fussy in car rides and such. This becomes important later because Anne was there for the last day of camp too. She left right before we did when her baby became cranky. Eventually, I didn't see the white truck behind me and more, so I slowed down a bit. It was nearly 9.30 at this point, late enough for the highway between our towns to be essentially empty. I have this back road that is a bit curvy that leads close to my house and directly to a rich neighborhood. It's the streets I typically take to get back to my house from camp if I had no one to take home. And everyone that was regular in my car called it a detour. It was quite pretty, with a bunch of full evergreen trees and wildlife.

The kids, not really kids, but they acted like it, who was 13F, 15m, and 15M in the back were begging me to go on the detour since it was the last day of camp. So I caved in and hit on my blinker, turning right onto the back road. Now listen, I'm not the safest person out there. Don't judge me. I'm still basically a kid too. But all the ones in the back loved to hang out the windows on the back road, so I let them stick their heads out of the sunroof, sit on the window sill while holding the bars on top of my car. I went slow under 10 miles an hour just so they could do it and not worry about them getting hurt. I mean, there was no one on the back roads. Cops never camped out on these streets, and I was going under the speed limit by like 20,

so there wasn't any harm in letting them stick out the windows. Eventually, I let them bully me into taking them around the ridge neighborhoods that had cool water fountains and covered bridges on the streets. Apparently, one of the covered bridges caved in, so we had to go around on this super narrow street right next to the large drainage ditch at least 15 to 20 feet deep. As we were going around it, a car comes up behind us. I assumed it was one of the people who lived in the neighborhood, so I was going to speed up to let them get to their house. Finally, we came to the foreway of the rich people street. Straightforward was a dead end, which is what I originally was going to do. To the left was a broken covered bridge, and to the right was a back.

roundabout that would take us back to the beginning of the street. But I had no houses or lights back back there because the neighborhood is still being built. But let's call him Jake. 19M told me to go right. Mind you, one of the campers were sticking their body out of my skylight from the back seat so I couldn't see out of my rearview mirror. I didn't really want to, but I trusted his instincts and turned right. As soon as I did, I started to hear honking behind me. I was a bit startled and so were the kids in the back seat. I glanced out in my side view mirrors, but I can't see anything past bright LED lights. I thought it was because I took too long, so I sped up a bit after I turned right. There was a honk at the end of the hill on this back street, and it makes you tug the steering

wheel pretty hard to stay on the road, especially in the dark. The car behind me turned right too. They started flashing their LED brights, honking loudly, and I rolled down windows screaming at us. They kept trying to get in the lane next to us and bump into my car to run us off the road. That is when I knew this was serious. Instantly, I started screaming at the kids in the backseat to sit down, buckle up, and roll up their windows.

They barely managed to do that by the time I hit the bend at the end of the hill, really hard, and gunned it off the street. Driving around the drainage ditch with little problem. I've done it multiple times. There was no phone in the car to call anyone, least of all the police, so I just ended up speeding down the back streets as the car chased me, trying to run me off the road multiple times. When we came upon sharp corners, they slowed down. That told me he didn't know the area well, which I used to my advantage. As I was approaching a stop sign for me to go left or right, my house was to the right, so, let's be. left it was. I yelled at Jake to check my right because I'm not stopping for the sign. I sped past it.

The car, this is about the time I noticed it was a fucking white truck, tried to hit my bumper again, and I swirved into someone's yard. Grass was damaged the next day when I drove past it. I booked it down the street, hidden every turn as fast as possible, and eventually I thought I lost a truck. I sped past my high school and onto the highway again, where we got off in the first place. I didn't see the truck behind us and we were all still freaked out. I took a ride to go on to another main way and passed by a closed gas station on the way, very important in the moment. I stopped at a gas station and handed the kids in my back some cash for them to go inside to get a drink and snack to help them calm down. None of them were crying, thank God, the adrenaline junkies they are. They thought it

was more exciting than anything. I told Jake to go watch them in the store and make sure they didn't do anything stupid while I filled up my gas tank. We waited at the gas station for about 20 minutes before I went back onto the main road to take them home just in case. I asked them if they had saw the car at all while they were hanging out the windows, and only one of them said they thought they did, but the truck's lights were off. It was the same truck from town or so over, from the intersection front of the back road of our camp. They followed us for nearly 25 minutes. After I dropped all of them off, I was a bit still shaky and decided to try and see if my phone would call someone that I could talk about what happened. The only contact that would load was Anne, since she was the last

person I talked to on our phones. With a stroke of luck, my phone actually let me call. She picked up, but all I could hear from her side of the line was her crying. Obviously panicked, I asked her what was wrong. In low and behold, she shares a story eerily similar to what just happened to me. Apparently, Anne's baby started crying so loud she could barely focus on the road, so she pulled into the closed gas station I mentioned earlier, right outside her high school I sped past. She was giving her kid their bottle when a white truck pulled into the lot.

Immediately she was wary because it was closed, and she was right. Less than 30 seconds later, this truck parked horizontally in front of Anne's car to block her in, She immediately started the car again, locked her doors, and pulled off over the grass curb, blocking her from the street. She was not chancing her baby at all. And told me the only thing she remembered was a man that we had saw years ago in the Walmart. His eyes staring at her like she was just a piece of meat for him to have. As she raced home, the truck got up to her. She turned on her back road, running out of gas, and the truck started to flash its lights, honk, run her off the road the entire time. But a couple streets before hers, a little red car pulled out in front of her

and started to break-check her as the white truck tried to hit her from behind. It was a mess. She took a chance, sped up, and swung onto her street to at least lose the right car. The truck booked it after her. Apparently, both of her older brothers were waiting outside for her with some of her friends to help her bring in the stuff for the baby. Upon seeing this, as she pulled into her driveway, the white truck sped off. If her brothers were not outside, that would have been a different story. But anyway, long story short, that truck that follows me all the way back, an accomplice in a red car that followed my friend Anne. When they couldn't catch me, they went for her. Both me and Jake suspected that because I didn't go on to the dead end where the man could have cut me off. That's probably why it suddenly got violence so quickly. If you want more of my story times,

that sound a bit crazy but sadly true. Comment below. Edit. I never mentioned what happened after this, but the man in the white truck and the other in the little red car were found a town over when there was footage taken of them attempting to kidnap a 70-year-old off a porch and being attacked by their dog. Along with this, we found out there had been several sightings of a white truck around our town following others doing similar things days after it first happened to us, following cars at a similar description to my friends and I's car. Our reports were officially filed after we saw the information the car on Facebook, along with the identity of the man that had stalked us for years. It took years to get rid of them, but we now don't have to worry about the men anymore. I think I met a serial killer. I dated a guy whose father was a short-tempered, an isolated man, also truck driver, and skilled

hunter. He would come into the room with all of his laughing and say how much he wanted to strangle us and carve our eyeballs out. And everyone would laugh and say, oh, dad. Once for Thanksgiving, I was in the basement and he came down. He didn't know I was down there, talking to himself about how to perfect the glaze, lay on thick, how nobody would suspect it. That day he wouldn't let anyone else cook, didn't eat any of the food himself,

And everyone in the house had diarrhea, stomach pains, and vomiting. Before I had left for good, his dad took a truck driving job to be trained in Ohio. We were in Illinois. Nobody heard from him for two weeks, but he called crying from Washington State, saying he lost his wallet and ID and needed help home and miss his family so much. Nobody asked any questions at all. They got him back. It stuck in the back of my mind how he had started Uber driving that new year's in the city,

and there were a few stories of women that had gone missing around that time who were never seen again after getting into an Uber. Maintenance Man tries to get into my hotel at 11 o'clock at night. Last night, my wife, one-year-old daughter and I were staying at the element in Orlando on I drive, and around 11 p.m. we hear someone open our door and try to come in. For the layout to understand a little better, at the end of the hallway leading to our room, there's another door that is before a set of five rooms, so we are staying in one of those rooms. You need a key to get into that door as well.

I hear that door open, and immediately that's when someone tried to come into our home. Fortunately, I had this secondary lock on that would stop the door unless you unlocked it from the inside. I have my gun and look through the people and ask, can I help you? He responds with, maintenance. I then say, no thank you, and he rushes away quickly and leaves, testing no other doors. I know this because a minute later, I opened my door and the secondary door, and he was completely gone. He was wearing the company uniform except he had on black, gloves and had nothing in his hands or nearby to perform this quote-unquote maintenance. At this point,

my wife has freaked out and calls the front desk who seemed very caught off guard and say that they test all the doors to make sure the key battery is not low, which I understand, but what I can't understand is I'm testing at 11 at night and only testing my door and no one else's. That seems like something you would do before someone checks in or after they check out. We then call the cops and the manager is at the door with the one cop who comes out and she states that they have to test the doors before maintenance leaves out of 10. So now I'm wondering why this guy didn't clock out an hour ago. At this point, the cop steps in the room and shuts the door to talk to us privately and sends the manager back down and says he will speak to her if he needs her. When he's in the room, he asks what

happened and let him know the situation, and he agrees with us that is very strange and something that doesn't sound right about this. But at this time, there's nothing we can do except give us his advice. His advice was to make sure to not let this go and to call corporate. He did also say that the front desk woman was giving him different times every time you'd ask about her when the maintenance men clocked out and did this lock check. He did ask us how much longer we added our stay. We were leaving here in the morning, which he said was good. Is there a possibility there's something going on here in the hotel that the night shift is all in on? Is this just an over exaggeration and I'm just being a Karen? Also, as a side note in the morning, my wife did go down and have breakfast

with herself and my daughter, and I wasn't there with them until they were about to finish up. Could someone have thought she was staying here alone? When you go into the room, if you don't look into the closet, or I have my one backpack, all you could see is just my wife and daughter's stuff all out in the room, if you came in to make the bed, which they did. I'd love to know what anyone else thinks about this, and what I should do, if anything. Truck stops are either haunted or portals to hell. I worked in the truck stop industry for about 15 years.

All of the following stories took place at the same location. I worked there less than 18 months. If people are interested, I have other stories at other locations, but this one had the most frequent occurrence of weird stuff that happened. I was given the opportunity to help open this brand new location. And since it came with a fat raise and a promotion, I definitely accepted. It now has been about five years since the location opened. I don't believe there's a single employee left that was there when we opened

of the over 60 employees we hired prior to opening day. On opening day, not long after the ribbon-cutting ceremony, a woman delivering flowers dropped the flowers on her sandal foot and sliced her foot open, bleeding all over the entrance. Within a week of being open, we had water and sewage coming up through all the drains, including sewage ones outside all over the property. It had not been raining. It wasn't like a flood situation, whether or otherwise we had no idea what caused it to happen so suddenly. And just as quickly as it happened, it went away. Plumbers were baffled. A couple of months after we opened, we faced a severe storm that destroyed the high-rise instant state sign and caused a seven-hour power outage.

I had sent several people home, but I had kept a couple employees in case the power came back. As we sat in the restaurant dining room chatting under electric lantern light, an employee who was a local resident and had lived in the town all her life mentioned that people were a little worried when this place was announced to be built because this property had been rumored to been a Native American burial ground for years. I've zero way to prove or disprove if this is accurate, but given the events getting more serious as time went on, it makes you wonder. When the power did come back, despite several steps, I took lick unplugging all the equipment to make sure the surge wouldn't fry stuff. We lost several pieces of expensive equipment. Some of this equipment is critical

and cause major operational problems for weeks until it could be replaced. The first winter after we opened was the coldest in years, so cold that we had to buy space heaters for the servers in the electrical room so the servers wouldn't freeze. We had issues with frozen pipes, especially in the truck care center and the restaurant. Six months after opening was the first death. A truck driver came in to take a shower in one of the shower rooms, and we had sensors on the doors that let us know how long someone has been in there. If the timer had been going for a couple hours, we would knock on the doors to see if

maybe they had actually left so we could clean it for the next driver. The employee knocked in the door of the shower that had been in use for a couple hours, and there was an answer. She used the key to open the door, and the driver was on the floor. He had died of a stroke. He'd been driving a semi-truck 30 minutes before he'd entered that room. The employee who had opened the door was significantly traumatized. The company did a great job of offering support for her, but she didn't last much longer after that. A few weeks later was one of the weirdest things I've ever seen. I was working on the restaurant side of the truck stop as the restaurant manager had quit after a series of bad things that happened to her. And they asked me to move into that role temporarily.

The assistant manager on the store side came over because the freakyest thing had just happened. She pulls me into the store or side office and pulls up the cameras to show me what happened. A small, four-door sedan pulls into the lot but doesn't pull into the gas station side, pulls into the truck stop side where the semi-trucks pull in. He parks next to the maintenance shed, located adjacent to the main building and very close to the large trash compactor. He gets out of the vehicle, opens one of the doors and pull out a large trash bag. He throws a trash bag on top of the compactor. He then gets in his car and leaves the property.

I don't remember exactly how long, as she had fast-forward the footage, but I think it was an hour or two later he returned. He pulls back next to the compactor, climbs on top of the compactor, and trucks the bag onto the roof of the maintenance shed. He then climbs down off the compactor, gets in his car, and leaves him. leaves never to return. This is when we noticed by an employee who had been outside gathering trash to take onto the combactor.

The maintenance shed is more of a small building slash garage. It's about 20 by 20 feet. If the employee had not seen him throw it up there, it probably wouldn't have been noticed maybe ever as the building was as high as a one-story building. Once the employee saw the individual leave, he goes up onto the shed, gets a ladder, and goes to get the bag on the top of the roof of the shed. He brought the bag inside the store to show the assistant manager. the bag is a ton of paper. These documents list hundreds or thousands of addresses across the United

States. Under each address is specific hidden location on each property where a body could be found. No information on who the individuals were, just sex and location of the individual or individuals on these properties. The location spanned from coast to coast, but I didn't get a chance to look deeply into them. I was really freaked out and thought that touching them would contaminate something. So we just put what we had and pulled it back into the bag. The obvious answer here was to call the police, so that is what happened next. Now, the thing about truck stops is that they are more often than not in remote locations along interstates for obvious reasons. The town this truck stop is located in has three police officers total.

It is a town with less than 1,000 people, so when I say the chief of police showed up, it's because he was the highest ranking officer of three in the town. He hated us as truck stops bring crime. and suddenly he had a lot more work to do. He comes in, watches the footage, and looks in the bag. And the most frustrating thing here is that was not concerned in the slightest. He asked what we wanted him to do about it. It was probably a prank, etc.

He took the items with him, filled out a form of requests for the footage and left. My hope here is that he at least forwarded this to the FBI. A couple of weeks after this, there was a body found of a bound, nude, and recently deceased man across the street at a dump. Because it was a dump, they had no idea. where the individuals had originated from. Sometime in following weeks it was the second death on the property. It was a driver that had died in his truck.

Somewhere in the middle of this, we had another severe storm, and the interstate high rise was destroyed again. We had another weird incident involving abandoned things, but this one had a resolution. A driver came in to show us that someone had left, ratchet straps and small children clothing folded up neatly next to a diesel pump. The combination of the items was alarming to me, so it got on the camera system and called the police. I was able to find the truck that left the items, and luckily, I got the one amazing police officer in the town.

This time she actually did her job and followed up with me to let me know what she had found, the driver, and called him. He had his kid in the truck for a while for summer break, but it had ended so he had brought her home with her mom and wasn't going to see his kid for a while, so when he was cleaning up his truck, he had his clothing and some straps he didn't need and thought someone else could use the items. He didn't think about the combination of the two raising eyebrows, and he honestly was very grateful that somebody would be worried and follow-up in case. A couple months after the first year mark, the state DOT had to shut down the off and on-ramp to the interstate exit because it started to collapse.

They were worried that the overpass would collapse as well. We had nearly zero business for weeks as a construction cruise rebuilt the ramps and repaired the overpass. It was during this time that I earned a promotion to a general manager role and was moved to a different location. I kept in touch for a while, especially with my former boss and the assistant manager. The incidences continued. A couple of months after I left, there was two major incidents, but I cannot remember which came first. One was involving an individual that entered the building with a machete. He was aggressive. The employees were terrified. I wish I hadn't deleted it, but there is a footage of estate troopers coming in with AKs and drop-kicking the guy, unsure where this person came from as he walked.

In this location was 10 to 15 miles from the nearest town. The second was a customer. Attacked a teenage cashier because he didn't get the customer's lotto ticket correct and got in to a brawl with the maintenance guy who came to the kid's defense. Slowly over time I lost touch with them and they both left the location so I stopped getting the stories. I don't know if they're continuing. Haunted? Portal to Hell? I don't know. What I do know is now I avoid truck stops like the plague. Alone at the Campsite. In the summer of 2022, I was desperate and frustrated. I'd quit my job a few months prior to the pursuit of my own startup and my business wasn't exactly thriving. After six years of IVF treatment, my wife had blessed me with a daughter early that year.

And while I was elated to be a father, the stress of being a dad, the financial pressures from the clinic, and the weight of being the sole provider for my family had taken a significant toll in the months. As summer approached, I decided I needed a weekend away to clear my head and get back into the grind. I decided to take a two-night trip, just me and our dogs to a lake off an old logging road about three hours from home. It was one of my favorite spots and I knew the woods there quite well. I packed my things, leased the dogs, two blue hearlers, and set out early one Tuesday morning. When I got to the trailhead, the parking lot was empty. Middle of the week, I was stoked to be alone. There was a single deer path up to a canyon about 1,200 feet, over 5 miles to get to the lake.

And neither myself nor the dogs met anyone else on the trail that entire way up the mountain. I got to the lake around midday, spent the afternoon fishing and collecting wood and water for the county night. The lake was pristine and quiet, not a soul in sight. I was truly alone aside from the dogs. I found a flat spot on the east side of the lake with the vegetation cleared, and I could set up a tent and I made a small camp about 30 yards from the trail. I would have preferred to go further up the mountain, but it was still early in the season, and when I got to my campsite, the rest of the trail was too snowpacked to continue farther. As it was, I had to navigate over several hard-packed embankments before I got to a suitable area. The icy slush was difficult to

navigate, even for the dogs, and when we had finally crushed our way over and threw a few hundred yards, I made the decision we would be going no further. I set up my tent, hung my pack on a limb, and took my fishing pole back the direction I'd come. I spent the evening catching and cooking fish at the edge of the spillway, and as the sun began to set the dogs and I made our way back to the tent, slipping over wet stumps and clumsily pushing through the snow, I stumbled into camp exhausted and ready for fire. As I approached the site, though, I realized some things were out of place. My pack, which had been hung on a limb, was sitting neatly on the other side of the clearing about 20 feet from where I'd left it. Sitting on top of it was a large eagle feather.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. The dogs began at a low growl, but as they circled the site there was no one there. As I approached my tent, a stick had been used to carve an inscription, of the dirt outside the entrance. It was two U's, one upside down, connected to the other by a thin line, and then further connected by another line to a larger U-shape. I would describe it as a Native American petroglyph in the shape of a bird or an eagle, uniform, symmetrical, and above all things fresh. Someone had been there. Someone neither I nor two very distrusting dogs had seen, heard or smelled. Someone who had left no footprints through the snow and mud. Someone who had not

past us on the trail, or whose cars had been parked at the trailhead. My stomach dropped. I felt a presence of being watched, but I couldn't tell from where. I quickly built a huge campfire, and with dread watched as the last of the sunlight sank beneath the ridge. That night was a fever dream. Pulling the dogs into the tent with me, I clung to my knife and flashlight, praying that whatever was watching me would leave. It didn't. Throughout the night, I would periodically awaken to a variety of sounds. Yells, shrieks, the snapping of brand-and-y, The dogs would sit up, growl and bark until I'd open the screen of the tent and shine my light into the forest.

At one point I had just drifted off to sleep when the dog's low growl woke me up. Thinking I might have to drop on whatever this was, I slowly unzip the tent and leaned out with my flashlight. Taking a breath, I clicked it on. Standing just three feet from me was her dough and a calf. I scanned across her, an entire herd was in the sight. As my dogs lost it, the deer spooked and sprinted back into the forest. A crushing and trampling noise as several dozen deer evacuated the area.

As I faded, I heard laughter. The deep laughter of a man turned to crying as it escalated, then sobbing, and then to deep growling. Much more boisterous than anything my dogs could make, or even a bear would produce. I held the dogs tightly. Sleep alluded me for the rest of the night, and as soon as the sun peaked into the valley, I packed my things and left. I've never been so terrified in my life. Has anyone ever experienced something similar?

It's been two years and I can't make sense of it. I need answers. I was hiding from your mom. My mom is dead. One of the creepiest stories I know personally is from my best friend when he came home at his house babysitting a friend's kid. The kid whose name was junior was roughly 4 to 5, I want to say. His dad was a courier, so it would often be doing deliveries late at night.

David, my best friend, was a teen by this point, so being home without an adult was no great task. It's important to mention that his father was a pretty paranoid individual who bought it into a lot of fearmongering in the world. So we had a camera set up all over the place. I want to say this happened in 2014. Anyways, David was busy in his bedroom and his whining in his own business. But then we decided to head into his den, where all the cameras happened to be set up. But the den was locked.

David knocked on the door to the den. And Jr. opened it up. Why do you lock the door, David said? Because the lady, Junior said. What lady, David asked. your mom, I saw her in the kitchen. The house says living room was directly connected to the kitchen. And if you were standing in the kitchen and entryway, you can see the door leading outside. It was one of those screened-in sitting areas. Junior claimed that David's mother was right there in the doorway.

Really strange, especially considering David's mother, had passed away just about eight months prior. David was chilled by the remark, but the skeptic in him knew it was likely just Junior's overly active imagination, so he agreed to go and check with him. He brought a kitchen knife. If I remember in the story correctly, he walked with Junior down the hallway into the kitchen, where the door was open. The door being open was pretty normal. It was a hot summer day, and the house trapped a lot of heat.

David stepped out onto the screen sitting area and looked left down the ramp as mother used to get to use outside. Nothing. He looked to the right, seeing the length of the yard. Nothing. Junior was incessant that there was someone there, which is strange considering usually in situations like these, Kids tend to feel better after you poke around for them.

David couldn't calm him down. Junior was certain. He kept saying, I saw your mom. She was there. So David bargained with him. Everything's recorded on the camera, so we'll just look on them. And we'll know for certain whether someone is there or not. So they shifted through the cameras,

and David looked for another timestamp around when Junior claimed that his deceased mother had shown up. He stared down all the cameras as the timer ticked on and nothing showed up. But suddenly, he watched as the camera showed a figure enter his backyard from the front. by pulling the latch. An old woman, at least in her mid-60s, confidently walked into her backyard. She had a cloth grocery bag in her hand. She headed up the ramp and stood in their screened scenario for a few moments. She then reached for the door to the kitchen, cracking it open, then brazenly stepped inside.

After some time, Junior saw her in the kitchen headed to David to tell him. Based on the camera's timestamps, she stood in the kitchen for at least 10 minutes. The absolutely insane part is she left as David went to investigate with Junior. The camera footage showed him walking around and her leaving as he looked around. When he looked left on the ramp where she'd come up, she'd already wrapped around and actually took the long way around through the length of the yard. When he looked right, he quite literally just missed her. It was generally a matter of maybe half a second.

Someone wandered right into this backyard and right into his kitchen, then stood there for 10 minutes in his kitchen doing God knows what. nothing was stolen, nobody was harmed or anything. Well, anyway, the night went on and nothing came of it. Me personally, I would have phoned the police, but David wouldn't. I think there's a chance that his dad may have had some guns that were acquired through perhaps some non-reputable methods. They were locked away from everyone. Whatever small comfort that is, ha-ha. So David's instinct was that his dad would likely be furious about the police being called. Well, anyway, some time passed, days, weeks, who knows. I'm not even sure how this information came about, but somehow David was told by either a family

member or a staff member had the old woman that wandered into the house had dementia and added an episode and just sort of found herself there by a string of coincidences. People are scarier than anything paranormal. This is a true story of something I experienced. It must have been over a decade by now. I was a kid at the time. My dad had bought this quaint house on the outskirts of a little town. It was a decently sized home with a big backyard overlooking the marshes and unused farmer's fields, and the only entrance to it was either through the house or across the large fields. To put into context how this fits into the story was because my bedroom at the time of living with my dad was situated on the back of the house, facing the big backyard.

I remember one night very vividly, some 10 to 12 years later, I was sitting in my room doing digital artwork on my computer. It was something I loved to do as a teenager, and I'd usually, I'd usually, I'd, I'd listen to music with headphones on. The way I was sitting had me facing semi away from the big window in my room, the largest in the house. I had my blackout blinds drawn, and it was the only room in the entire house I had the light on. And I'd assume from outside you'd see slivers of light through the edges of the folding blinds. I think it was between 2.30 to 3 a.m.

I was peacefully minding my own business when I hear a massive slam on my window. It was dull, but a loud thud. And what I thought was a shout. My dad was sleeping peacefully in the room next to me, how we didn't hear anything at the time so amazed me to this day. I remember just sitting there, shook, no clue what I just heard, until it happened again. I heard it clear. Somebody was outside my window, in the backyard.

Whoever this was had no reason to be there. I remember being too scared to open my blinds. Instead, I got up, just staring at the window, not taking my eyes off it. Something I'm thankful for this day was I went with my gut feeling. My gut feeling was telling me to grab a flashlight and check the front door. This was an old house, so I would have to leave the comfort of the house to enter the barn to get to the main entrance of the house. I remember shining my light through the glass and the window.

The window had been frosted film for privacy, but sure enough, I barely got the flashlight lifted three to four inches of the glass before seeing the coat of whoever was out there. The real kicker? Absolute terror set in when I realized the door hadn't been locked the entire time. I managed to lock it and run inside, and then the real kicker. The first thing I grabbed was a bread knife. Not practical, but when your adrenaline and fear is coursing through your brain, it's the last thing you think of.

I remember trying to wake up my dad who passed out like a drunk sailor to see whoever was outside. We never found the man, and he never came back. Had I not locked that door, prank or not, I dread to think what could have happened to me. I've seen some shit in my life, but people will forever scare me. Deep Sea Expedition Encounter. This story is not mine but my uncles. Please excuse any formatting issues on my mobile. I've been wanting to post this story for some time, but haven't found the best R-slash.

If another place is better applicable for the story, please let me know. I'll clarify that what I believe the story to be true, there's a lot of room for speculation. I'll start out with some background information. My uncle has been a marine biologist over the past 50 years. He is now in his sixth season and spent the last 25 years teaching marine biology at a university. His area of expertise has been the North and Mid-Atlantic Ocean. Growing up every time he would visit him in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. He would tell his countless stories of the numerous deep sea expeditions he participated in.

Prior to his teaching years, he was primarily a researcher. Every single story was interesting and filled with wonder. The story I'm about to tell is the only one that has me questioning what is really out there in the deep ocean. For the sake of this story, I'll refer to my uncle as Uncle Jay, or just Jay, to keep some semblance of unanimity. This story begins when Uncle Jay was getting ready to embark on an upcoming expedition to the mid-Atlantic Ridge. The research vessel they would be traveling on was a medium-sized vessel about 80 meters long. One of those ships that has a crane and it was crewed by maybe 20 men and there was about 15 marine biologists of various specialties attending. It was early summertime in the 90s.

I'm unsure on the exact date in Uncle Jay was about 30 at the time. He said they could have had a better day for loading the vessel. The ocean was calm and the weather was beautiful. They would be out at sea for the next month and a half. All weather forecasts looking promising. Once the ship was loaded, they embarked on their journey. It took them approximately a week to reach the ridge. The primary goal of this expedition was examined and possibly identify new species of sea life in that region. Additionally, they wanted to examine how known species lived. They didn't have any submarines, so in order to find any new species, they had an intriguing plan.

Using the crane on board the ship, they attached cow carcasses to the hook and lowered them into the water near the ocean floor. A few feet away from the hook was multiple cameras and lights to observe any sea life that might devour the carcass. Uncle Jay said they had about 10 carcasses. They would begin their journey in the northern portion, lower the carcasses into the water for a few days, and move south along the ridge, repeat in this process. When the carcasses were lowered in the ship, would power down all engines and simply. drift. If they drifted away from the ridge, they would power up and very slowly move back into position. Because this was a rather low-budget mission, the cameras on the hook didn't

provide a live feed, and all footage was thoroughly examined after. That was about 48 hours of footage they had to sift through after each time they pulled up the hook. They had been at this for about a week, and had not made any new discoveries, but did gain valuable footage of rarely seen sea life consuming the cows. At this point, the story, Uncle Jay said everything was going according to plan. The seas were calm and everyone on board was enjoying their time. They were onto their fifth cow carcass. It was about 5 p.m. and they hooked it up and lowered it into the water. This portion of the ridge they were about, was about 3,500 meters deep and was pushing the limit of how much cable they had on the crane. Now for this mission, two of the marine

biologists were required to monitor the crane and their location in relation to the ridge at all times. My uncle and another biologist drew the short straw and had to watch overnight. They would swap out around 9 a.m. Uncle Jay said it was an uneventful night. Him and the other biologists chatted all night and bounced different theories off each other. Around 7 a.m. just as the sun was rising, all was calm. Almost too calm, Jay remarked. They hadn't drifted off course throughout the night.

The ocean was just like glass. Much of the crew was beginning to rise as well, but what happens next is a complete shock to everyone on board. It's important to note that the crane had been angled off the right side of the ship. All of a sudden, and very rapidly, the 80-meter-long vessel began listening to the right side. It was almost as if something grabbed the hook and began pulling it deeper. My uncle said the immediate panic he felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He said it felt like the ship was going to capsize. They immediately sounded the ship's onboard alarm system to notify the crew of an emergency.

Once they had their facilities in order, after the initial shock, my uncle ordered the other biologists to begin reeling in the crane. Since the cabling was so long, it would take about 20 minutes to completely reel in the line. The other biologists began to reel in the crane, but the winch was struggling and the ship was leaning more and more into the water. My uncle said that just as the water began to pour over the right side of the ship, it smacked back down to an upright position. He was sent flying into some containers. Many of the crew had begun to come out now as well. There was several injured on board, but nothing was life-threatening. Over the next 20 minutes as the crane was still retracting the line, the crew assessor injured, and any damage to the ship.

My uncle was ultimately uninjured despite being thrown around. He said waiting for the line to come up was the longest 20 minutes of his life. Everyone was in complete shock as to what just happened. Two minutes of complete chaos and now all was calm again. When the crane returned to the surface, the cow carcass was completely gone and the large metal hook was slightly bent. A few of the cameras was missing, but thankfully not all. The calcarchus being completely gone was the most of the carcass was the most of the carcass was

most interesting part as in every other case it was never gone completely. The vessel's captain made the decision to head back shortly after this incident much of the disappointment of the biologists included my uncle who wanted to find out what could have caused this. However, several onboard generators were damaged in the impact and they were essential to the ship's operation. So they had to return. My uncle believed it was because the CPT and ships crew were terrified and rightfully so.

On the week-long journey back, the biologists examined over the footage to try to try to identified what caused this. The footage by all accounts was normal. There was the carcass about 10 meters off the sea floor illuminated by the floodlights. Some small shrimp like sea life was feces on the cow when all of a sudden the cameras went black. Not as in they stopped recording, but something was covering them. The timestamp showed it was the correct time of the incident. After two minutes, the lights came back on and they could see again. It wasn't much, though, as an enormous amount of sediment was kicked up from the ocean floor and now enveloped the view of the camera. While they were able to rule out the hook getting snacked on the bottom, they were never

able to see what caused this. And that's how the story ends. No answer or explanation. That was it. They returned to Port and reported their findings, but to my knowledge, nothing ever came of it. My uncle has his theories for what I've caused this, ranging from a hungry sperm whale to giant squid, to some unknown massive sea creature. Whatever it was must have been huge in order to devour a complete cow carcass in under two minutes and nearly capsized an 80-meter research vessel. While this story is outlandish and hard to believe, I have no reason to disagree with it. My uncle has never told any story that was similar to this. This is the only one that comes close to sea monsters in the unknown.

But it makes you think what could really be out there, lurking in the deep ocean. Edit. To clarify any confusion about the cow carcasses, I asked my uncle to elaborate. On board the ship was a refrigerated container that they stored the carcasses in. He couldn't remember exactly where they got them from, but thinks it was from a local dairy farm. Once the cows reached the end of their lifespan, they would sell them off to local butchers, etc. In this case, a group of marine biologists bought them. Retired Paramedic Storytime

I should write a book about my paramedic days. I posted this in a different R-slash and had quite the response. Thought I'd share it here. Retired Paramedic here had a call on a very desolate stretch of road for a car sitting in the middle of the road, covered in blood. Of course, it has to happen at 2 a.m. just like every horror story. We arrive on scene and find a new Camaro sitting in the middle of the road that had obviously been hit in an accident. Problem is, there's absolutely nothing else around the car.

No persons, no other vehicles, nothing. Part of my job then was a tactical paramedic for our sheriff's department. Sounds all exciting and high speed slash low drag. Nope, not as a medic. I got paid to wait for stuff to happen and sit in the rear with the gear. This being said, my paramedic partner and I both had pistols in the ambulance. As we started approaching the Camaro, my partner is shining the light around when he says, really low, hushed and rushed, back, back, back, now, now.

He says, I shine my light in the car and there's intestines wrapped around the gear shifter and a lung in the back seat. So we kind of freaked out. Call dispatch, let them know what's happening, and we are in the process of getting out of there till the cops show up when we see a figure up here walking down the road towards us. As he gets closer, we see he is covered in blood and gore. We both throw on our tactical vests, helmets, snatch our pistols as I sound like a frightened home-alone nine-year-old on the radio to dispatch.

We approach and start screaming at him to get on the ground, which he does. After everyone's heart rate is below 200 beats per minute, we start talking and figure out what happened. This guy had purchased a brand-new Camero and drove it to this desolate stretch of road to open it up. He said one minute, he is shifting gears, and the next thing he knows his car is all over the road and his mouth was full of blood and it seemed like an explosion that went off. I started looking for injuries all over and can't really see anything major and ask him about the

passenger in his car. He says, what passenger? My partner says, there's a lung in your back seat. Dude goes straight into mental overload and can't come up with anything so I'm thinking he's hurt. Get him in the ambulance. Police are five minutes away, we potentially have another victim out here. I have to go look, by myself. I walk through the crash scene, look into the car and sure enough, intestines wrapped around the gear shifter, long in the back seat, looks like part of a liver, looks like a hand grenade went off inside the car. I walk around the other side of the car and see a faint blood smear slash staying on the road, walk to it, see something else further down the road so I keep walking towards it.

I finally see something on the side of the road and running up to it. Honestly, completely freaked out and scared to death about the body I was about to see. And the dude had hit a deer. What happened is when he was winding the car out, state police estimated him well over 100 miles an hour, a deer jumped into his car's pathway and hit the top corner of the windshield with its stomach. When the windshield crashed, it created a negative vacuum in the car, sucking almost all the deer's organs out and into the car and all over him. I had the fire department decontaminate him, wrapped him in some blankets and took him to the hospital.

For many, many years after my wonderful 911 dispatchers happily played the recording for anyone who wished to hear it. The creep in the woods that underestimated me. I had a summer job when I was a 15-year-old girl that was a few miles from my house. I lived in a rural wooded area, and my parents never let me go into the woods by myself, but they worked days and my job started at noon every day, so I had to walk to work. I chose to disobey them and walk through the woods, instead of on the road, to work because it cut about a mile off my walk. So every day, at the same time, I'd walk through the very much abandoned state forest

down a deer path for a mile or so until intercepted a railroad track, then I'd walk a couple more miles down the railroad track into town to my job. Stupid, I know, but I was 15. Taking this path always freaked me out and I always felt like I was being watched, but it was shorter and less sunny and less hot, and so I ignored my instincts thinking my parents' influence was just making me paranoid. My parents would pick me up after my shift unaware of my daily routine. This continued for weeks. One day, I'm walking about a mile from many houses, deep in the woods, and there are two corn magazine pages that had been ripped out and placed on the trail facing me. They hadn't been there the day before.

I was completely creeped out as they were clearly intentionally placed and probably for me since very few people utilize this area. But I kept walking because if I turned around at this point, I'd have to go further to get out of the woods. And then there was a huge hill to climb to get back to my house and no one would be around there to help me anyways. There was a densely wooded area with brambles and dogwood and rolling hills so I couldn't see very far in any direction.

Suddenly, I could hear someone else walking close by. I stopped and I would hear them for a split second and then they would stop. They sounded like they would change in their pocket so I knew it was an animal but because of the echo, I couldn't tell where I was coming from. Just to check that I wasn't crazy, I stopped once more and heard the same noise which quickly stopped when I stopped. That's when I knew I was being stalked. My heart was racing with fear and my vision went blurry, but my instincts told me not to speak and not to run, but just keep walking down the dense deer path further into the woods. My gut told me not to look behind me.

I could sense there was someone right behind me on the deer path now, but I did not look back. Now I'm a rather short, slightly chubby person, always have been. And looking at me, you'd probably assume that I couldn't run very fast. So if you wanted to catch me deep in the woods, you might assume you would have plenty of time to do so. And looking back, I think that is exactly what this creep was thinking. But back then, I ran cross-country and track and could probably run a seven-minute mile and hills were my specialty. I always placed really well in the hilly terrain by no means was I a great runner, but certainly I was likely faster than whatever petto creep was hanging out in the woods, talking a little girl.

It's not that I was processing this thought of the time I just instinctually knew not to run. Yet. I kept walking seemingly deeper into the woods because I knew the train track was up ahead where there would be more space to run without tripping or getting caught in the tree branches. It was terrifying to not look back, but something told me not to. While I walked, I felt like my entire body was shutting down. It's a feeling I've never felt before or after that day. It was the feeling of being prey. Everything went blurry, and I could feel blood pulsing on my ears and my heart was pounding.

I just kept walking like nothing was happening and did not turn around, but I felt someone maybe five or ten feet behind me at this point following me for a good eighth of a mile. I didn't turn around. I didn't scream because I knew no one would hear me. As soon as I got near the train tracks, which are elevated along a man-made gravel mound, I ran. And then I ran on all fours up. the hill, gripping onto two weeds to pull myself up faster, and then I sprinted along the tracks

as fast as my lungs and legs carried me. I heard and saw branches snapping below me in the woods, but now I was out in the sun, and the woods were dark, so I couldn't see what was behind the branches. I just kept sprinting. I never even saw the person, but I knew their intentions were awful. I never cut through the woods again, and I didn't mention what happened to my parents until I was 18, and I moved out of the house. I was too afraid of being grounded. A Man in the Dark Hi all, this happened to me about 11 years ago. When walking home from a friend's house at night, I'll just get straight into it. I used to live in a rural part of the UK, and I've lived in rural

areas most of my life, so I was used to long walks occasionally at night, especially before I could drive. They never bothered me too much. I get creeped out occasionally, but this one night was the most terrifying experience I ever had. There was this one friend who lived roughly three miles away from my house. He had cool parents and my other friends and I would often go over to his house and play video games and just hang out. Occasionally, this meant walking home at night if I stayed late. There were two ways back from my house. The roadway, which was about five miles long and took about 30 to 45 minutes. The roads were very quiet and eerie sometimes, but they were lit by street lamps, so it never bothered me walking this way. The other way was a shortcut through some woods,

which took off about two miles. And the wooded bit was about a mile or so long. I often favored the wooded shortcut and have probably walked it over 100 times. The woods were dark, however, combined with the lack of ambient light due to living in rural areas and yet an absolute abysmal darkness. Luckily, most of the time I had my phone light to walk with, but sometimes my phone would die or the battery would be so low that the flash wouldn't work and I have to use my screen light. As you've probably guessed by now, this was one of those occasions. I remember my friends and I had just finished watching a film.

It was nearing 10 p.m., so we all left my friend's house and headed our 7. separate ways home. I contemplated briefly which way I should go and decided to take the shortcut through the woods. I started walking away from his house and towards the path that headed into the woods. The street lights dimmed as I entered the fields before the woods. I glanced at my phone and saw my battery was really, really low. Only enough power left for a couple minutes of flash, and then I'd have to use my screen for light. That wouldn't last the whole way either. As I saw the tree line approaching, I switched on the flash and followed the well-trodden path into the darkness. To my dismay, my light died within seconds of entering, and I flipped my phone over to try and shine the way using the screen.

As I walked, I looked out for all the familiar landmarks I was used to seeing to ensure I was heading in the right direction. Funky tree stump, check, half-fallen fir tree, check, enormous puddle I had to jump over, check, all was going well. I was halfway through the woods when my phone completely died. I remember the moment it happened. I was engulfed in darkness. I'm not sure if you've experienced this level of darkness before, but it was so dark I couldn't even see the outline of my hand centimeters in front of my face. Naturally, my pace slowed considerably, and I started holding my hand out in front of me to make sure I wasn't going to walk into a tree or something. I continued walking for another minute or so, until all of a sudden a pungent smell hit me. Cigrette smoke.

I glanced around but couldn't see anything. Then I heard it. A cough. I wasn't alone. Thoughts raced through my head. Who would be out in the woods in the dark? Are they following me? Am I lost? I quickened my pace again, throwing a little caution to the wind. I carried on walking and tripped slightly on a branch. As I regained my balance, I heard another sound.

Branches breaking underfoot. What sounded like right behind me? The snapping turned into fast footsteps that grew louder and louder. I started sprinting. I felt the well-trodden path turned to brush. I felt branches, logs and plants hitting my legs. It wasn't long before I fell. Hard. I was lying on the floor, holding my knee. I could still hear branches snapping around me in a voice muttering something. I didn't dare move. Then all of a sudden, they turned on a torch. I couldn't see anything except for the beam of light which seemed to be eaten quickly by the darkness of the forest. I lay motionless on the ground as the beam swept through the trees.

I could still hear the person mumbling a deep growl. The crunching of footfalls grew and grew. There were only several feet away from me at this point. I couldn't breathe. The light went out. The snapping of branches grew. And then... Nothing. Quiet. My eyes were wide open, but I couldn't see anything. Then I could hear wheezing. Right

Above me. I wanted to cry. I wasn't sure if the person could see me or not. They could have been staring right at me and I wouldn't know. This carried on for about five minutes until the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs started up again and I got fainter and fainter as they moved away from me. I remained lying down for another five or ten minutes, contemplating my escape. Like an idiot, I'd ran off the path and wasn't sure which way back to it or was home. I didn't really care, I thought. I was going to walk in one direction until I left the woods and got home from there. I knew as soon as I started moving again, if the person was still in the woods, they would hear me. Should I run or try and sneak out? I opted for the ladder. I slowly rose to my feet, listening constantly to my surroundings,

picked a direction and started walking. I wasn't perfectly quiet, but quiet enough to be sure I would have been heard from too far away. I kept hearing snapping sounds and rustling in the distance and every time I froze, I'd hold my breath until I was happy no one was there and then start walking again. I repeated this pattern for what felt like an eternity until eventually I found the path. I screamed for joy in my mind and sped up my pace. After another 10 minutes, I saw it. Light. Street lights filtering in through the trees. I'd never been so happy to see a meager street lamp, but as I progressed to the end of the woods, my heart sank. At the end of the path was a black silhouette, unmoving. Contrasted against the light background was the dark figure of a man,

What should I do? Maybe it's a different person. Perhaps it's someone walking their dog. I froze and watched them silently, but they didn't move at all. They just stood there like they were guarding the entrance to the woods. I didn't know what to do. By this point, I'd have enough. I was so close to getting out. I decided to just run straight towards the exit, straight towards them. I was a six-foot young man. If they wanted to stop me, they'd have a hard job of it, I thought. So that's what I did. I started sprinting. The figure grew and grew and as I reached them I stepped to the side, I heard someone growl, fuck, loudly, and felt something clipped the back of my head and tugged the back of my jacket. I cleared the sheep gate in one leap and sprinted into the light. I eventually stopped running when I could see the first house

and looked back. The entrance of the woods was quite far away now and I couldn't see anyone standing by the entrance. Relaxing a bit more now, I finished my walk home. That's pretty much it. I know I could have overreacted. It could have been someone out for a walk in the woods, a dog walker or camper, But what I thought was strange was that they didn't use their torch except briefly on one occasion. Once they heard me, they also actively seeked me out. Who knows what they would have done if they caught me? In any case, I never walked that way home alone again. Not at night anyways.

If you see someone waving you down on a desolate highway, don't stop. I was on an assignment for the army, making my way up from San Antonio, Texas at Tacoma, Washington. It was a long drive, so they gave me six days to run. report to my new unit. But I didn't mind. I love road trips. There's nothing like the freedom of exploring the world by yourself. The first day of my journey, I planned to get as much driving in as possible so I could spend a few days in Utah, a sort of mini vacation you could say. This was January and the days were short, so maximizing the amount of delay I had was crucial. I got up early in the mornings, carried the last of my bags out to my corolla, signed out of my old unit,

and hit the road at roughly 5 a.m. It was an amazing day. I saw the landscape transform around, me as I headed farther west than I had ever been in my life. From the San Antonio metropolitan area to the savannahs of Edwards Plateau to the pancake flat farmland of the Great Plains region, America's breadbasket. Finally, the farms opened up into prairie and I saw the welcome to New Mexico, the land of enrichment sign. Now I was really in the middle of nowhere, continuing on the U.S. Route 380. I eventually found myself in Roswell. I could have gotten a few more hours of driving in and made it to Albuquerque, but I figured since I was in no rush, I might as well see what Roswell had to offer. Who knows if I could get a chance to visit again? As a fan of the strange,

dark, and mysterious, as Mr. Ballin would say, I took a self-guided tour of the shops and attractions. The next day I continued to Albuquerque, then westward on Understate 40. By the time I reached Gullup and started northbound on U.S. Route 499, I saw had two hours of driving left before crossing the border into Colorado. And another 45 minutes. minutes before I could get to the Cortez. My planned stop for the night. However, my daylight was already running out as sunset was at 6 p.m. I got Starbucks and refreshed myself for the final stretch. It was supposed to be easy, just a straight shot. But looking back on it now, I figured that, had I decided to stop an Albuquerque instead of Roswell the night previous, I would have already

been in Colorado by now, and possibly by making them my way into Utah. I would have saved myself from what was waiting for me on the Desla Highway. Route 491 stretched far and to the Navajo Nation. On either side were endless expanses of prairie bookended by dark indigo mountains on the horizon. To my left, the sky glowed a faint orange-purple, the light slowly dying down like smoldering emperts in a fire, until finally plunging the land into darkness. Every now and then, I would see a forlorn headlights of another car passing by, which gave me a bit of relief that I wasn't alone. I also had my road trip playlist on to keep me company, and call me ironic, but Hotel California was playing. After passing the small, lonely time

of Newcomb, the next pace of civilization would be shiprock. However, between the two was a 36-mile stretch of absolute nothingness, an abyss I had to cross. I was not ready for what I was about a witness. After several miles and having not seen another car on the road, I saw something strange emerged from the horizon. Barely lit by the moonlight, I thought it was a road sign at first. Then as I came closer, I realized there was a person, walking on the shoulder of the road, heading in my direction. I squinted, trying my hardest to focus on the figure. In the darkness, I could tell they were wearing a poncho of some sort, with long black hair flowing down their chest. Who could be walking out here, all alone at night? I thought. Whoever it was, they had no lights,

no reflectors, no shrubs of any kind to signal to passing cars that they were there. They walked on the pavement dangerously close to oncoming traffic. I pulled to the left a bit, given the wide berth. Suddenly my stereo cut out, as if I had turned it off. The screen went completely dark and my phone disconnected from Bluetooth, which was unusual. It certainly did happen from time to time, so I thought nothing of it. As I approached, I saw the person raise their right arm, as if to flag me down and hitched a ride. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, I thought. There's no way that's happening, buddy. As my headlights swept by, I realized it was a man, dressed in a button-up shirt, a wool poncho, jeans and cowboy boots. His large belt buckle glinted as the lights passed him,

but in that split second, I realized with object shock that not only were its eyes painfully wide open, but they seemed to be tracking me. Somehow, he was able to see me through the glare of my headlights and looked me dead in the eyes, not breaking contact until I passed. I was shaken for a bit, but my nerves gradually subsided. My stereo abruptly turned back on and my music continued playing. I brushed everything off as simply my imagination. The darkness and the shadows playing tricks on my mind. Besides, the man was behind me. I figured he must have been drunk. Indian reservations sadly had high rates of alcoholism. I looked at my rearview mirror. He was going to gone. I couldn't see him. Maybe he's too far behind me? No, that couldn't be. It must be too dark.

Maybe. I drove on, trying to figure out what just happened, but at the same time forcing myself not to think about it. Just when I thought I had moved on, I saw another shape in the distance. Getting closer, I realized it was another figure. Another person walking alone at night? There's no way. They walked along the shoulder of the road, swaying back and forth. Slowly, I could make out this person was also wearing a poncho. Then I saw what looked like long, Black hair, reaching down past the chest. No, there's no way. It was the man.

The same man. But how? The man raised his arm again, trying to flag me down. What did this guy want? I kept up my pace with no intention of stopping for any reason. Just like last time, my stereo turned off again. Suddenly, the man leapt out onto the road, arms waving frantically. I swerved into the left lane, narrowly avoiding him.

In my headlights, I noticed he had the same wide-eyed look, his gaze locked onto mine. I also thought his clothes did not look as they did the first encounter. Once they were clean, if not well worn, but now they were soiled and tattered, rags barely hanging on to his withered frame. His hair was wild and unkempt, with clods of dried dirt stuck in his locks, but his eyes remained the same. My heart nearly burst through my chest at the sudden shock. Hyperventilating, I slowed down and glanced into the rearview mirror to make sure he was all right. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. The man was running. He was sprung. He was sprung. He was sprung. He was printing towards me. I centered the wheel and accelerated, hoping to get as much distance from

it as possible, but as it continued to speed up, so did he. Faster and faster I drove, but every time I looked into the mirror, I would see him right behind me, perfectly keeping my pace. His body tinted red by my tail lights. I could feel my temples throbbing and my hands getting slick with sweat on the steering wheel. I was sick to my stomach. There's no way I looked forward, hoping to see a faint glimmer of light from the town ahead, but I was still too far away. I looked back at the rear view mirror. The man was gone. I should have been relieved, but I knew better. Where did it go? I looked around hoping to regain a visual on him. I couldn't see anything. Taking a deep breath, I refocused on the road, but kept my guard up. Just keep driving, I told myself, only a few more miles to go. Out of the corner of

my right eye I saw something, another shape. It wasn't the man, at least I didn't think so. I glanced over, bracing myself for whatever was going to meet my sight. It looked like an animal, some kind of animal, though I couldn't make out exactly what it was. Under the moonlight, I could see it running alongside my car, its four limbs reaching out in long strides. Its back utilizing like a dog. Closer and closure came, the closer it was, the more of it I could see. Little by little. Then I noticed its limbs were far too long for its body. Its body was too short. It had no tail. The head was oddly round, and from it came a long trail of black hair. I slammed my foot on the gas, pushed my car's engine harder than it has ever been pushed before. By now, it was clocking well over 110 miles an hour,

but this creature, it kept up. It wasn't phased. It simply ran faster and faster to match my speed. Just what was I thinking? How could anyone or anything run this fast? The entity seemed to have endless stamina. Just how long could it keep up? Just how much faster could it go? Soon my car would hit its top speed and then what? How long could it maintain that before breaking down? It wouldn't be long until my engine overheats, but regardless, I would eventually run out of gas, And when I do, what would happen if that thing got me? At 120 miles an hour, my car had reached his limit. This was the fastest I could go, but the creature continued its pursuit. My temperature gauge was approaching the red, and so was my technometer. I couldn't keep this up any longer.

Suddenly, like the beacon of a lighthouse on the tumultuous sea, the first light of shiprock came into view. It was close, so close, if I could just go a little bit longer, I could make it into town safely. I pressed on. I fixed my eyes on the lights, growing brighter, on the horizon. They bloomed outwards, glimmering in the night air. Though it was a small town, it was a sight for sore eyes in my situation. Looking into my periphery, I saw the utilization of this creature's spine as it kept pace with my car. But now it was slipping away, steering farther and farther from the road. It suddenly hit me just how hard my heart was beating. Beats of sweat dripped down my face. I looked over. The creature was gone. But this time the feeling of dread had also gone with

my stereo once again turned back on, and as my music resumed, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I lit off the accelerator. The man, the creature, whatever it was, it was finally gone for good. Having white-knuckled the steering wheel the whole time without realizing it, my hands were extremely sore, but I was glad to have made it through it. A week later, I told another soldier my unit about what I experienced. Being originally from Albuquerque, she was familiar with the Native American legends of the Southwest. The conversation steered toward a certain creature, that she would not dare speak the name of. She also told me that the highway I took was well known for all sorts of paranormal phenomena.

Google what Route 491 used to be called, and everything will make sense. Be careful out there. And all right, anyways, that wraps up Reddit Horror Stories. I really hope you all enjoyed this video. I enjoyed recording it and all of it. Let me know if you'd like to see more like this in the future. And anyways, thank you so much for watching to the end. Make sure you like and subscribe to the channel.

It helps a ton. And yeah, just want to see you like to see you like and subscribe to the channel. And yeah, just once again, thank you so much for watching. Until next time, see ya.