Snook - Unsettling Stories From Reddit

Episode Date: June 13, 2026

Thank you guys for listening! These were some of the most terrifying and weirdest stories I have ever read! Let me know if you would like to see more content like this in the future! But they are all amazing, so make sure to watch the whole vid! Thanks for watching, like and subscribe! CREDITS - ExceptThatI - https://www.reddit.com/r/BackwoodsCreepy/comments/1fe511k/mimicskinwalker_my_strange_encounter_in_northern/ notghettoenough - https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/1fjm1d6/the_tinder_stalker/ Creative-Nectarine82 - https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/1fdlmsi/convenience_store_creep/ Only-Composer-8026 - https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/1fb8xjt/airbnb_owner_acted_weird_i_left_when_i_saw_a/ Adam-51 - https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/1f97ljz/country_road/ Icy-Quail2938 - https://www.reddit.com/r/BackwoodsCreepy/comments/1ffh2o1/goat_canyon_trestle/ BrilliantBex1992 - https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/1f7hqu5/the_reason_i_always_keep_all_the_doors_locked/ Catlatadipdat - https://www.reddit.com/r/TrueScaryStories/comments/1fh3bsw/im_not_going_to_hurt_you/ arcticinhabitor - https://www.reddit.com/r/BackwoodsCreepy/comments/1f2opse/the_hollers/ Independent-War5592 - https://www.reddit.com/r/BackwoodsCreepy/comments/1fbkikb/late_night_visitor/ arcticinhabitor - https://www.reddit.com/r/BackwoodsCreepy/comments/1co3xap/im_from_a_remote_village_in_northern_alaska_and/ [deleted] - https://www.reddit.com/r/BackwoodsCreepy/comments/17kt298/deleted_by_user/ camomydear - https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/1ekh6gk/man_tried_to_grab_my_baby_from_me_on_flight/ froodydude - https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/1d1vqd4/semitruck_driver_toying_with_me_late_at_night_no/ Simple0nes - https://www.reddit.com/r/LetsNotMeet/comments/17jk7z2/clown_in_the_woods/ IF ANY OF THESE STORIES BELONG TO YOU, PLEASE EMAIL ME AT - [e-mail] before filing a copyright takedown or anything. Please, we can get it sorted out through email or some other form of communication, thank you. NEXT SUB GOAL - 100,000 followers I love you. 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 will be covering some unsettling stories from Reddit. And we'll just be reading a bunch of scary stories and they are all great. Trust me. So you'll want to stick around to the end. And this will be a longer video. So please like and subscribe just to support the channel. And it helps out the channel a ton.

And it's the channel's goal to be at 500,000 subscribers before the end of the year. So please subscribe. And like I said, sit back, relax. and just let's get into some unsettling stories from Reddit. Mimic slash Skinwalker, My Strange Encounter in Northern New Mexico. So a little backstory, my friends and I have been hiking and backpacking over the area multiple times, at least once a year on a good long multi-day backpacking trip.

A few times in the same location and other than car problems and sometimes friends not bringing the right gear, we've never had any issues. This specific trip was a six-mile-in, six mile out, six thousand total elevation shift both ways tripped to a lake. We did it in October so we were preparing for extreme colds potentially below freezing at night. There were only three of us and we were all geared up for this. I was probably the least geared out of the trio and I knew I'd be perfectly comfortable. So we began the trek in, took us until end of the day and we'd get to the lake no problem. Set up camp and just enjoyed ourselves to the sounds of nature

some MREs and a couple pints of whiskey. At the end of the night, we all settle into our sleeping quarters, myself in a small tent, my friend in a hammock right next to me, around the fire pit, and our other friend some distance away from us in a tent. Now it's important to note that my friend in the hammock was camped right next to me, maybe 10 feet away, while our other friend was probably 100 feet away or so. I had trouble sleeping was restless, and even though I was warm, I kept getting shivers frequently and tossing and turning in my sleeping bed,

which I just attributed to the cold. I didn't think anything of this at the time, and eventually I began to drift to sleep. The forest around was quiet, with the occasional sound of insects buzzing or a bird taking flight from a tree. That's when I was awoken by the sound of my friend's voice. Clear as day, I was groggy and a little confused

as to why he was waking me up, but I clearly heard him say, quote, my name, help, help me. I immediately froze as he sounded really desperate and said, my name, help me again. Then before I got the chance to speak, I heard the voice again. My name. Help. I have to pee. And then he laughed in a way that sincerely only my friend does. It was a giggle that I'd known him to have since we had met many years ago. And so I responded with

ha ha, fuck off his name. I'm trying to sleep. And I thought that he was just trying to be funny. Thinking back on it, it would be very out of character for him to wake me up to pull some kind of stupid joke like that, but I was half asleep and I wrote it off. Although I knew something didn't feel quite right about it, I decided to just ignore him and let him do his business. He persisted. Help. I need you. Come out here. I just mumbled about going back to sleep and to just go if he needed to. My memory is a little foggy as to how he conversed back and forth in what exactly was said, but afterwards I had noticed that he hadn't made any noise to leave to go pee or get back in his hammock as I was trying to fall back asleep, which I found odd, but again, brushed off as nothing.

Once the voice had been gone for a while and I assumed he had quietly gone and gotten back to his hammock, I realized I had to pee badly. It wasn't going to get any sleep until I did, so I got out of my tent and immediately walked over to his hammock to pull the same stunt he had on me, calling his name in a joking manner and waking him up to let him know I was there. But when he woke up, he was immediately thrown off by this. That's when I told him, I was just going to pee like you, had told me you were a bit ago, maybe 15 minutes of past, not enough time for someone to get back into their multi-layer, cold weather, hammocks set up and fall deeply asleep again.

Not to mention, he hadn't made a sound since our conversation stopped. He asked me what the hell I was talking about, and I asked him over and over if he was just outside my tent. He swore up and down he had been asleep since he laid down in the hammock and never once got out of his hammock. That's when I felt the real chills go down my spine. Whatever had been outside my tent asking help in this high-pitched mocking voice that my friend would sometimes joke with was not him.

I told him, oh, okay, it was nothing. And then I proceeded to go pee, keeping eyes on my surroundings the whole time. Eventually, I was able to get back to my tent, warm up, and get drowsy enough to sleep. Even though the events that had just transpired terrified me to the core, I am well aware of the lore of the areas around northern New Mexico, and I wouldn't be the first of my friends to go missing without a trace had I opened my tent and followed the voice that night. Somehow I shook it off and was tired enough to start drifting to sleep after I got cozied up. That's when it actually tried to get me.

That half-awake stay between sleeping and awake, you know the place where you suddenly feel like you're falling but get jolted awake, except this time I wasn't falling. Something had grabbed onto my tent. and was dragging at what felt like 50 miles an hour across the forest floor. I felt every bump when the tent was hitting tree stumps and rocks, destroying my tent and thrashing me around viciously as I was being pulled at an insane speed through the trees, seemingly in a straight line,

though which didn't make any sense in hindsight with how dense the trees are here. I yelled out and could feel my vocal cords moving, but very little sound came out. I must have traveled a good several hundred feet like this. That's when I opened my eyes. The only thing that I felt different was the tent was no longer moving. During this weird trance state of being dragged in my tent, everything looked identical. I was perfectly aware of my surroundings.

It felt nothing like a dream. However, when I finally opened my eyes, I was laying in my tent, seemingly undisturbed and unharmed. I called out to my friend feeling bad for waking him up, but needed to know that this was reality, as last place felt so real. He groggily woke up and said something back to me before going back to sleep. his response sounded legitimate to me, I thought. That actually sounded like him, realizing that whatever I had heard earlier was so far from anything he would actually do or say. That thing that called out to me in a high-pitched whiny voice mimicking my friends saying,

Help, help me, I need help, I have to pee, come out here. It still weirds me out to this day. After asking him about it the next morning, he just laughed and swore to me that he absolutely did not get up in the middle of the night. night and say anything to me, much less try to joke with me about getting out of my tent to help him. Whatever that was specifically targeted me. My friends have been back there since, but I opted out of that trip. The Tinder Stocker. I matched with a man on Tinder one day. The conversation got spicy and I gave him my numbers so we can continue chatting. We texted that night. We never

exchanged photos or nudes or anything like that. Never made plans. to meet up. The conversation died and I forgot about them. Weeks go by and I deleted the conversation. Then late one night I got a lewd photo of a man I don't recognize. I think of insulting them but decides to just delete it and not respond. A few weeks later I get another one. I have the ID to check my deleted messages to make sure I don't know them. Sure enough, I found out that it's the Tinder guy. It's really weird of them to text me a month later just lewd images after no contact or anything for over a month. Ewe. So I blocked them. A couple weeks later, I get a lewd video on my Apple Watch. It's the same guy. I'm not sure how I got the message on my watch, if I already

blocked his number. I block him again on my watch. What a weirdo, I think. A week later, I leave my apartment to go on a walk. I see him. He is right there in front of my apartment walking towards me. He has the same outfit on as his profile photos and the same tattoos and a hat, so I am certain it is them. I never mentioned where I lived. I'm freaked out. But I'm dressed in baggy clothes and recently changed up my hair color, so I keep my head down in hopes he doesn't recognize me.

I walk right past him. I was too scared to look at him to see his reaction if he recognized me. I was too scared to look back in his direction to see where he went, so I just kept walking forward. I was severely freaked out, but nothing else happened after that, and I never saw them again. I never mentioned where I live, so my only thought is he must have used my phone number to look me up. It was the least likely person I would have expected.

Just some random person I messaged for only one day on Tinder. Even with the lewd content they sent, I still just thought they were a regular purve. I never expected them to somehow show up at my apartment. They didn't even text a word to me or attempt to meet up. They just sent ludes over two months and they appeared. It's just so random and weird, I think they motive was definitely something, S. perverted, it gives me creeps to think about what they wanted, but I'm glad they left me alone. I never give out my real phone number to dates anymore. Convenience store creep.

This was 11 years ago. I was 19 working at a gas station that's part of a chain in my area. There were these two guys who were Marines that would come in regularly. The one guy was of Asian descent and would always try to flirt with me. I acted oblivious to it and went on with my day. After they had been coming in for a while, he asked me out. This guy was 35. I carded him when he bought cigarettes because our store was super strict about carding everyone, so I knew his age. I said no and kept it professional and asked if he needed anything else. He would ask me out every time he came in and would get more and more frustrated when I said no. Just his body language and whole mood changed when I said no. I told my manager he was making me uncomfortable and she didn't seem to care and said to

treat all customers with respect. A couple months later, my friend was looking for a used car on credits list, and she decided to look at the misconnection section to laugh at all the posts on there. It's not a thing anymore, but it used to be kind of like a dating section where you could post about seeing someone you were interested in, but didn't get to exchange numbers or talk or whatever. Lo and behold, this guy posted one with my name and the name of the store I worked in in the town. I don't have the most common first name, and I'm the only person there with that name.

We had to wear name tags, and I knew 100% it was me. It was about how we saw me at work, thought I was pretty and wanted to go on dates with me. I was just so creeped out. I showed my dad, and he emailed the guy from the listing, telling him to fuck right off. I printed it and showed my boss, and this bitch told me to just go on a date with him and say you're not interested. I was livid. About a week later, this guy's friend came in alone. Mind you, these men are Marines and not small guys.

I ring him up and he asked me, What's your fucking problem? You don't want to go out with my friend because he's Asian? He really likes you. Racist? I stood my ground and said, I won't go out with your friend because he's 35 and he's harassing me. Luckily, that was the last I saw, either of them.

I got fired about a week later and got another job waiting tables, never saw that guy again and hope I never do. Manager fired me for no reason. I found out years later she got fired for unlawful termination. She fired anyone she didn't like for personal reasons. I hope she never has a daughter. To the Marine that harassed me, I hope we never meet again. Airbnb owner acted weird.

I left when I saw a chair with ropes in my bedroom. I was watching a YouTube video where the YouTuber tells let's not meet stories of weird encounters with landlords or in hostels reminded me of this one that happened to me a few months ago. Disclaimer, that might not be as scary as other stories in this subreddit, but watching those videos made me paranoid, which is why I decided to leave that air and be rather than risk being the victim in a true crime story. As I said, this happened a few months ago.

If I remember correctly in January or February of 2024, I was visiting family in southern France and did not want to stay at their place, even if they offered for personal reasons, which I won't share here. Note that I visit them quite often and usually last minute, so I would never book the same place and I would sometimes book a hotel room

which was more expensive, but better for me, as I don't necessarily want to socialize with the hosts. Even when I would book Airbnbs, I would always search flats or studio flats and not a room in a flat slash house where other people live, as I want to be on my own,

so this is an important criteria for me. So I booked this Airbnb within walking distance, since where my family members stay. And it looks very nice on paper. I think it was marketed as a house or ground floor flat with access to a yard and a garden. It was probably one of the cheaper options. I don't remember for sure, but I wasn't going there for leisure or planning to have a very nice place for myself to have an enjoyable holidays,

if that makes sense. So I really wanted something for convenience and wouldn't pay extra for any kind of luxury. There were not a lot of reviews, but the one was pretty positive. So I go to that place with my suitcase, waiting in front of the house, I contacted the landlord, who should give me the keys, but he's late. I spent at least one hour waiting outside, and I'm trying to be patient, realizing at least the neighborhood is pretty nice and seems safe, even if I need to walk through areas that are slightly dodgy to get there from where my relative stay. The landlord finally arrives.

He seems like a good man and apologizes profusely, saying he was in another town, visiting his cousin or friends, and time flew by. First, Red Flag, he says they were drinking and didn't have time to sober up so he had to speed on the highway on his motorbike while being tipsy-slash-drunk. He stops and ask me half-jokingly not to say that in my review. I get a bit serious and tell him that he shouldn't drink and drive, but he says he really didn't want to make me wait further. I tell him I won't flag that in my review. Spoiler alert, I will, but didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. guy is nice otherwise and seems trustworthy, very chatty and open to socializing, and frankly, I was just happy I could finally get in and drop my stuff. Second, Red Flag is when he tells me I will

be living in a small flat adjacent to the bigger house he lives in, but I shouldn't worry because I would have my own place, own bathroom, own kitchen, etc. I don't like that too much, but I actually think it might be good because I'm not super comfortable being on my own in a ground floor accommodation, knowing anyone can get into the yard and access the front door. Again, I'm paranoid. So knowing that someone I know is close by in case something happens gives me a sense of safety. God, was I wrong? He shows me around. All seems okay. It's pretty old, but as I said, I wasn't looking for a luxury stay. The part where I would stay is on the lower level than a street view level. Not exactly like a basement because there is access to a garden, but I need to walk down a set of stairs outside and get into flat through the backyard. shows mostly when I'm in the bedroom, as I see through the windows that it's clearly at a lower level. Next red flag, or rather yellow flag, is when he shows me a door close the bedroom, which is connecting door between my part and his house. I was kind of expecting that, but thought he might

need to at least cross the yard or access through the front door to get into my part of the house. He says this door stays closed and it's locked anyway. Not as a warning for me, not to try and open it, but more like you'll notice there's this door, it's useless for you, and what's beyond it is not part of what you're renting. We chat a little bit, too long for my taste because I was tired and also still annoyed at his lateness, and not in the mood to socialize. He gives me his phone number because Airbnb chat feature is not good. It's easier to use WhatsApp, and then he leaves. I start to settle down, open my suitcase and get changed before leaving to visit my family. I then go back to the place in the evening and decide to have

shower. If I remember correctly, what I'm saying next happened before I took a shower because I remember locking the bathroom door, which I never do when I know I'm on my own, and I recall being quite anxious when getting the shower. So, biggest red flag before the last drop, I'm sitting on the bed and hear a knock in someone saying my name. Two seconds later, before I get the chance to answer or even understand what the noise comes from, I hear keys turning in a lock and a door opening. As you might have guessed, it's the connecting door next to the bedroom. The guy enters and says he can't find his phone, and if he might have left it downstairs. I'm a bit shocked probably because if he had come down 10 minutes later, I would have probably

been naked, ready to take a shower or maybe walking around in a towel since I'm supposedly alone. I know it might sound like I'm a pussy, but keep in mind I'm a relatively young woman, alone in a house with a man in his 40s or 50s who has control over when he can get into my place at any time. I stay polite and try to tell him that no, I haven't seen his phone. I would have noticed there's literally nothing except my open suitcase on a couch in the bedroom. He still gets in, speaking a lot and very fast while I'm sitting there, not fully realizing what's happening and not having a chance to tell him to leave. He looks around the flat and obviously doesn't find

the phone. Then he says sorry and probably asks if everything's fine. If I had dinner or something like that and then leaves again. At that point, I'm really wondering if I should stay or not, since I know you get refunded only if you cancel two nights in advance. I just thought I would lose the money for the night that it started. It was already around 11 p.m. in the following one, knowing I had booked at least four nights. I really needed to take a shower, but questioning if I should. I tried to see if there are any available hotel rooms, but it's already too late to book or already fully booked. I decided to take my shower real quick, wondering if he could hear the shower and decide that you forgot something else to get in again. But nothing bad happens.

I then go back to the bedroom, get dress as fast as I can just in case, sit down and think. I decide that I will just stay for the night and I'll probably be less paranoid in the morning if I'm still alive. That's when I noticed the chairs in the bedroom. There are two and one of them has ropes tied around the armrest. The chairs are in good shape and the rope is definitely not there to keep the armrest fixed the chair. as they are just loose. To this day, I have no idea why they were there. I still think I should sleep there just for the night and try to use a chair to block the door handle in the bedroom, like in the movies. But guys, this only works in the movies. I try with both chairs trying to pile them up, even trying to use the ropes one way or another. The handle can still go down

enough to open the door easily. I think that at least if I leave them in front of the door, I'll hear if someone tries to open it, but the door opens them. the other way, and in any case, I don't know what I do even if the noise woke me up. Again, I'm paranoid and anxious and living alone. Abroad. My motto is to never, ever take risk for my own safety, as I'm usually the only one who can save myself, so better avoid any tricky situation. Doesn't mean I never go out, but I wouldn't get drunk around people I don't trust, and I would take a cab if I feel unsafe going home on my own after midnight. I now live in a city that's rather safe but too many bad encounters. Unfortunately, nothing unusual for most women. Not to be careful.

So from an external point of view, this is a story about someone booking an Airbnb with good reviews with a nice and friendly landlord who is just overly open because he likes to meet new people. And the ropes are just a detail. But for my anxious and paranoid self, it's the premise for a horror story or thriller where you shout at the stupid and trusting victim to get away ASAP before the guy comes back. So I decided to call my brother, who came to pick me up around midnight, for me to spend the rest of my stay at his place. Country Road. A few weeks ago, I was driving in the middle nowhere, heading to one of my friends. My wife was sleeping next to me while my teenage daughters were watching a movie in the back. Next to them, my toddler was playing with his toys. It was around

1 a.m. and I was nervous as the drive there seemed to last forever. The dirt roads with no lights gave me chills, as all I could see around were only fields. The road had many holes, and I was trying to avoid them as much as I could. I was very focused on that when I saw in front of my car a luggage. It was in the middle of the road, on my side. On the other side, a car was parked facing us. The car was completely in the dark, as there were no lights inside or outside of it. I did not want to drive over the luggage, so my first instinct was to go out and move it. I was lucky to have my wife with me. She grabbed my hand in, indicated me something on the right. One person was in the field, looking at something on his phone,

reason for which my wife saw him in the first place. I turned my car around and was ready to leave this road where two people jumped out in front of us from the field. There was no space on the road, so I couldn't go without harming them. Two people were in front of my car, one luggage, a car, and the person checking their phone in the field were behind us. I'd not know what to do, so I did the only thing that I thought of. I just turned around again, facing the luggage and just drove over it. Fortunately, there was nothing inside it to damage my car. So we got out of the situation completely unharmed. We arrived at my friend's house and everything was perfect and we had a great time there. However, I still have chills when I think when thinking about this incident. So people from the field,

let's not meet again. Goat Canyon Tressel. In the late fall of 2010, my dad, mom, sister, uncle and I decided to try and hike to the goat canyon trestle located deep in the desert of San Diego County in southern California near the Mexico border. The trestle is basically a very tall bridge-like structure made entirely of wooden beams and columns that was built with the railroad in the early 1900s. The railroad is now decommissioned and the tracks, bridges, and tunnels are all abandoned. There is a lot of good and interesting information about the trestle online if you are interested. It is allegedly one of the tallest freestanding wooden structures in the world. I believe now there's a lot more information

on how to hike out to the trestle online, but back in 2010 there was very limited information about it, and you really had to search deep to get information on where to start and the route to take. My uncle was super into these remote abandoned locations at the time, and it was his hobby to research and plan out how to get to them. There was no dedicated trail at the time to the trestle. I'm not sure if there was even one today, and you had to do, more or less make your own path across the rocky desert hills. I was a sophomore in college at the time, and we were all decided it would be best to do the hiking over Thanksgiving weekend when me and my sister would be in town for the holidays, and it would be cool enough temperatures to attempt.

When we got to the location where we parked our car, it was pretty barren and out in the middle of nowhere, with desert all around. My uncle told us we would have to hike up into the hills ahead of us and then down the other side through a canyon that led to the trestle. It's this canyon that the trestle traverses. The hike started off without incident, but the lack of a dedicated trail soon made it difficult. The terrain was very rocky with loose, late rocks that were lined with sand and made you slip and fall easily. Within the first few hours, I had fallen and scraped my knees and hands several times. It was a lot of scrambling over rock to get up into the hills, and it took us much longer and a lot more effort than we expected. We probably started the hike around 9 or 10 a.m.,

but by the time we reached the top of the hills, it was already mid-afternoon, and we still had to traverse down the canyon on the other side of the trestle, and then walk all the way back to the car. Recall that it was around Thanksgiving time and the sun would set around 5 p.m. My mom and dad were naturally worried that we didn't have enough daylight to make it back to the trestle and back, and thought that we should start heading back to my car. But my mom and My uncle really wanted to at least see the trestle from the top of the canyon and said he would go on ahead alone while we went back. Being the young, invincible-minded male I was at the time, I convinced my parents to let

me go with my uncle. My uncle and I were much faster hikers than my parents and sister, and we are sure we could make it through the trestle and back with enough light. We parted ways and my uncle and I continued into the hills towards the canyon. And this is where things started getting very strange. I want to take a moment to explain a little about the area for those who might not be familiar. As I said above, the trestle is located relatively close to the Mexico border, along with the abandoned tracks, running between Yuma, Arizona, and San Diego, California, more or less paralleling the Mexican border.

This area at the time was well known to be a very active route for illegal immigrants crossing into the United States from Mexico. There were stories online that my uncle found that said people would have. hide in their abandoned train tunnels to escape the border patrol officers during the day and would then walk the abandoned tracks at night. Border Patrol was also very active in the area at the time. It was also a hot spot for coyotes and mules, not the animals, but individuals who help escort immigrants into the country and individuals who are transporting illegal drugs. Getting back to the story, my uncle and I continued through the hills in search of the canyon that led down to the trestle. After we had been walking for a while, we came across a small grove of fan palms. If you're not familiar with fan palms, they are basically a

shorter and stockier version of a typical palm tree with a lot of palm fronds arranged down the trunk of the tree, such that the actual trunk can't be seen behind all the fronds. The palms in this grove were all relatively short, ranging maybe from 8 to 10 feet tall, and the fronds dropped all the way to the base of the tree. I remember it was a little creepy coming across the grove in the middle of hills, It felt like something was beyond the thick layer of palm fronds watching us, and I would be lying if I wasn't a bit relieved when we continued past them. Eventually, my uncle and I found the canyon that we thought led down from the hills of the trestle. The canyon was very rugged with tons of loose rock.

You can only imagine how difficult it was trying to go down it, slipping and sliding over the rocks the whole way. Once we were about halfway down, the sun was just starting to set, and that eerie quietness that comes with sunsets in the desert washed over the canyon. It was also starting to get cold, with the sun dipping below the hills, covering the canyon in shadows. It was around this time that both my uncle and I started seeing things. We both swear we saw my mom at the top of the canyon looking down at us.

My uncle joked with me that my mom would never let me go on alone and she must have followed us. We continued down the canyon some more, and when we looked back up, there was no one there. We thought maybe she had just walked behind some rocks or something and began calling out to her from below. there was no response. I admit I was a little freaked out then and told my uncle we should start heading back, but my uncle wanted to keep going and insisted that we must be close. He was right. Around the next few bends, we saw the trestle ahead of us. It was very cool to see, but we still had a good way

down the canyon to actually get to the base of it, let alone climb to the top of it, which was our original plan. My uncle, being the crazy adventurous guy he is, insisted we keep going. But as we were heading down further, I stumbled and sprained my ankle very badly. And I decided that I couldn't go any further down. My uncle finally agreed and said he would just go alone a little way further to get some pictures and then we would turn around and head back together. So there I was sitting alone in this canyon that was getting darker and darker by the minute trying to mend my twisted ankle when I looked back up the canyons to see if my mom was visible again. I didn't see anything initially, but something large, moved out of the corner of my eye up the canyon sun, like it was darting

between a rock. This freaked me out, and I felt a sense of dread wash over me like I was being watched from every shadow. I remember it was so quiet. It felt unnatural. A little while longer my uncle returned, and we began to make our way back up the canyon. It was very dark at this point, and just a glimmer of sunset was left on the horizon. I was really starting to freak out because I knew we would be walking back in pitch black. When we were almost at the top of the canyon, my uncle, who was walking ahead of me, stopped in his tracks and pointed ahead. It was my mom again.

Standing at the top of the canyon looking down at us, we both yelled at her, but she didn't respond or even move. She just stared at us. We continued forward thinking maybe she couldn't hear us, and when we came around the next bend, she was gone again. I was losing at this point. I'm not sure what I would have done if my uncle hadn't been there with me. We eventually made it back to the top of the canyon.

and was indeed pitch black. There was no sign of my mom or anyone else. We were utterly alone in the dark desert hills. Luckily, my uncle had a small headlamp that he brought with them, and we used that to start our slow trek back through the hills to the car, and hopefully to my waiting family. I can't explain to you how dark it felt out there. It felt like I couldn't see my hand from my face. The only thing keeping us on a somewhat path was this small beam of light from my uncle's headlamp. We had no camping or emergency gear, stupid, I know, but we were able to find the small path we had come by on the way into the canyon and began following it back. After some time, we made it back to the grove of fan palms. I would be lying if I told you I wasn't

terrified seeing those trees in the dark, just standing watch over the path like ancient centennials. I remember how I felt the first time we encountered the palms and how it felt like something was watching us through the fronds. I hesitantly followed my uncle through the trees. As we walked by, there was a loud rustle from one of the trees, much too loud to be just a rodent or a reptile. My uncle swung the headlamp around on the trees, but there was nothing there. A few seconds later, there was more rustling from the tree behind us. Again, my uncle shined the headlamp at the tree, but it was completely still.

It was at this moment that I felt something pushed me hard away from the palm I was standing in front of, and I crashed down into the dirt. I remember it felt like something had reached through the fronds and pushed me from behind, but I don't remember hearing any rustling, even though I was so close to the tree. I was utterly freaked now and started yelling at my uncle that something had pushed me from inside the tree. My uncle went up to the tree with the headlamp and peered deep inside to see if you could see anything, but there was nothing. After that, we quickly made our way out of the grove and continued through the hills back towards the car.

I remember it felt like forever. walking through those hills in the complete darkness and every once in a while I would hear rustling behind or to the side of us but there was no way to know what it was with no light the whole way I felt like something was following us through trailing just behind us outside the light where we couldn't see it but I could feel its presence finally we made it through the hills and we're about to traverse back down to the car in the distance we see a faint light coming towards us As we get closer, it was apparent that the light was coming from someone with a flashlight, and me and my uncle were nervous whether this individual was there to help or harm us.

Given the position we were in, however, we decided to make our way to the light, and thankfully, it was a Border Patrol agent who was actually out looking for us. The agent had come across my family who were waiting for me, and my uncle in our car and my parents told them that we were still out there. The agent then went looking for us. the agent led my uncle and I back to our car where my terrified mom rushed to hug me and scold my uncle. We then told my mom that we had seen her at the top of the canyon and asked her why she didn't respond to us or wait for us to get to her. I will never forget that singing

feeling I felt my stomach when my mom told us she had never gone any further after her. My dad and my sister turned back and left me and my uncle to go on alone. She said they had been waiting in the car for hours for us to return. I don't know who. Or what, me and my uncle saw in that canyon, or what was inside those fan palms. But I know for certain we were not alone out there that night. Maybe it was all just our minds playing tricks on us, but it's been 14 years now, and I still think about it to this very day. The reason I always keep all the doors locked. Back with another one, as I will likely post as I remember them, I've done so much healing this

year that buried memories keep resurfing. Like this little gem. This was some years ago when I was living in a different city. I hadn't really been on my own all that long and my housing situation fell apart at the last minute so I had to scramble to figure it out, meaning you guessed it, random roommates. Now, the year before I had a random roommate that was the most amazing person and ended up becoming a great friend, so I figured this would be the same. It was not. But that's actually not the focus of the story. Enter the roommates. Ben, who I did actually know a bit from the previous year and was becoming friends with. Tom and Mike. Now, this was the very first couple days after move in, and we'd all hung out to get to know each other a bit better. But Tom and Mike hadn't

fully moved in yet. It was a big old house separated by floor and the top level locked at the stairs. This is important to note. Ben and I lived upstairs with Tom and Mike downstairs. I've always been paranoid and definitely have good reason to. So when I'm home, all doors are locked. When I leave all doors are locked, I sleep with my bedroom locked. I was home alone with Ben at work and Tom and Mike sort of in and out of moving stuff in. I'll note here that both had a lot of expensive stuff like in the five-figure range. Well, I was watching something on my laptop in my room.

Bedroom locked in both entrances to my part of the house locked. I started hearing a lot of noise coming from downstairs, sounding like doors. and cupboards, opening, furniture moving, etc., and I figured it was just tom or make, until I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. I was technically supposed to be somewhere at the time, which they knew, but it had been canceled last minute, so no one would have known I was home, and they had no reason to come upstairs when they knew both of us were supposed to be gone. That was when I got panicky, hearing them come closer and closer to the top of the stairs.

I've never sat so still. Then the knob began to jiggle. I could hear it clearly as my room was closest to the entryway. At this point, I'm on with 911 whispering that someone is in my house without giving away that I'm there to whoever it was. The house was super close to downtown and cops arrived in mere minutes, but they were the longest of my life at that moment. The downstairs were completely ransacked, like something out of a movie. It was so surreal to see. They'd taken over $20,000 in electronics. I honestly, remember the exact amount, just about that, I think. Broken furniture and plates and stuff, even ripped through the mattresses. Turned out Tom and Mike had left a door unlocked when moving.

This would be the last time before I fled this house. They were gone before the cop showed, so I'd spent the next several months afraid they'd come back, though it would turn out to be the least of my future worry. So glad that I always locked doors. Considering the way downstairs looked, I don't know what they would have done to me. To whoever was on the other side of that, locked door. Let's not meet. I'm not going to hurt you. Remembering these words still sends a chill up my spine. This was a few years ago. My 33M husband and 43m and I were getting gas late one night. This was a bit of a weird gas station where two roads intersected at an angle with the gas station being on the acute angle. If you can picture that. At the pump we chose, there was no working lights

and it was difficult to see directly from either road. We were driving a soft top Jeep Wrangler with all of the rear windows taken off. My husband got out to pump, and I was sitting in the passenger seat looking at my phone. That's when I heard it. I'm not going to hurt you. A wavery voice said some distance behind me. I froze, suddenly terrified. I turned around to look at the empty space where our back window used to be

and saw what appeared to be a homeless man a little ways off. He had slightly wild gray hair, a white, washed out beanie in an oversized jacket with lots of pockets that hid his hands. I suddenly realized how dark it was and how hard it was for anyone to see us, and I couldn't see his hands. At a distinct feeling from deep down, so prominent I could almost hear it. Run. But we're just pumping gas.

He's just a weird homeless dude. My husband and I were from Key West. We had seen plenty of them before, and they were almost all harmless, so I slowly turned back around and went back to my phone, yet I still heard him. the distinct sound of shuffling feet, the rustle of his jacket. I'm not going to hurt you, he said again. I just need some help. Do you have any money?

I'm not going to hurt you. At this point, I could tell he was almost at the Jeep. We had only been there for a couple of minutes, and we'd been on almost empty. There was no way the tank was full. Without warning, my husband rushed into the car and hurried to start the engine. I could tell his hands were shaking. He managed to throw the car in the drive, and we peeled out of there. I looked behind us and saw the man standing there, not reacting.

Next to the dangling nozzle, my husband hadn't bothered hanging back up. As we turned out of the gas station, my husband said, I just had the most horrible feeling. Something in me just told me to run. I looked at him in horror and told him I'd felt the same thing. I felt tears come to my eyes as I thanked him for listening to his instincts. We went home feeling quite shaken, just going over the events we had just seen and felt the way we felt.

It was a day or two later that we watched a YouTube video by a security analyst Scott Stewart on the Kenyan mall shooting. And he said that in every event like this, there are people who said, Right before it happened, I had a terrible feeling that something bad was about to happen. He adds that some people listen to that feeling and leave the area, while others mentioned how much they regret not listening to it. I burst in his tears hearing this, knowing the feeling he had described all too well. I had had that feeling and was one of those who ignored it.

I remember scream crying, thank you at my husband for listening to his sense danger. Now, it is fully possible that it was just a harmless person asking for money in a slightly creepy way and that nothing bad would have happened. But I can't stop remembering how the weird angles kept anyone from seeing us. I can't stop thinking about how dark it was. And I can't stop thinking about how his hidden hands. And I still get full body chills remembering him say, I'm not going to hurt you. Moral of the story, I guess, if you ever get that distinct feeling that something bad is imminent, leave the area.

It may be a false alarm, and it happens a lot. You may want to hyperactive anxiety response and might want to try Lexapro, but it's better than going through the rest of your life wishing you had listened to that feeling. The Hollers Growing up in rural Alaska, I experienced a lot. A lot of weird things, amazing herds of caribou, etc. But the weirdest things to me are the times I wasn't able to see the source of yelling or hollering. A lot of times I traveled alone through the Brooks Range and up onto the north slope to hunt and trap.

From a young age, I learned how to hunt and field dress animals, set up survival shelters, and even how to travel at night with the usage of the constellations like my ancestors before me. These long and very arduous journeys sometimes brought me more than I was willing to endure. In the winter of like 2017, I had a trap line along the left side of the valley, headed northbound. A trap was set every few miles and I was traveling along my trail when I saw a figure and a bunch of diamond willows ahead of me. The bunch of brush was about a mile or so away, but I could see the dark figure walking like a person. I wondered who would be out in January when it's the coldest time of the year just walking. When they suddenly vanished, I took out my binoculars and scanned the area and just put it off as much.

my imagination or someone with a snow machine, snowmobile for you lower 48ers. And they had taken off along my trail, so I continued on. At the next trap, I stopped and shut off my machine. It was calm and surprisingly warm like negative 30 degrees Fahrenheit for that time of the year, so I was able to shed my parka to reset the spring trap that I had come across. As I set the trap, I started to hear a low, bellowing noise from up in a small valley. It came off like a person just yelling, Ah, at first, but then it grew deeper like a bear warning off another. But it was January. Nothing like that would be out and about.

The most you'd ever find would be wolves, wolverines, and caribou. Even moose tend to travel south for that time of year. As I started to pack up, the noise began again. It grew louder and louder. I remembered the figure I saw and wondered if they had anything to do with it. But I did my best to ignore the noise like my elders had taught me and go about my business. Then I could feel eyes on me. I looked towards the valley where I felt a weird sensation and there was nothing.

I even pulled out my binoes and looked. Nothing. I listened for the noise again and when the bellowing began again, I responded. I did the same noise back at it and it stopped quickly like it recognized this noise I made. Then it all went silent. I was uneasy so I packed up and left as quickly as possible. I haven't been back there since. I pulled the trap line that winter. I don't plan on going back.

Late Night Visitor I stumbled upon this sub a few nights ago, reading all the backwoods encounters reminded me of one me and my family had when I was a child. I grew up in a military brat. My dad was stationed at Hill, Air Force Base in Utah, and we took advantage of all the outdoors had to offer. Most often, we frequented Farmington Canyon, which was gorgeous during the fall. I think it was about a lot of hour or so drive and I still remember the dirt road we took was quite dangerous at times due to its position against rock walls on one side and the edge of a cliff or steep drop. So dangerous that vehicles

often had to slow down and carefully go around oncoming traffic. There were moments where I could peer out of my window and see nothing but tiny colorful trees far, far below. I remember this trip in particular because it was a real treat to go camping in the tent with my family and our two dogs. It was the 90s, but we were still using an old 70s-style metal-frame tent we picked up at a garage sale. Since my father had so many back issues, we were often restricted to day trips, cabins, or hotels, so this is something I was super excited about. We arrived to a campsite in the late afternoon and chose a spot next to the creek. We set up our tent and settled in for the evening.

The evening was relatively enjoyable and uneventful. The fire we built was now simmering ashes, and we decided to call it a night. doused the fire and crawled into our sleeping bags. Later that night, I woke to one of our dogs growling. Earlier, we did see rabbits, and I figured that's why he was growling, just some critter moving around. I soon realized he was growling at the sound of what was clearly crunching footsteps on gravel. My heart stopped.

My breathing froze, and every muscle in my body went rigid. Unsure of what I should do, I just laid there terrified. He seemed to move around inspecting different areas of the camp, including our tent, and trying to get into our vehicle. The increased volume of my dog growling must have alerted him, and he soon left the camp. Soon after, my father, who had been awake the entire time as well, I'm guessing unsure of what to do,

decided that when the moment of potential danger had passed to wake my mom and siblings, who surprisingly slept through all of it, pack up our gear and get out as fast as possible. We were, of course, talking all about it on a trip back. It was around 1 a.m., I still remember the time, and I don't think anyone slept much at all that night, even safely back at our own beds. Not much of a climax, I suppose, but it sure scared me to death at the time, and it is burned

into my memory. Aldly enough, I remember seeing carloads of college kids. I'm assuming based on the comments of my dad at the time, but I could be totally wrong, hauling up this dangerous canyon road in the middle of the night. Still no idea who that person was, if they were lost from one, if the other campsites, a passer-buyer, looking for an opportunity, or someone who lives out the woods praying on campers. I'm from a remote village in northern Alaska, and I've seen some things. As the title says, I'm from a remote Alaska.

I grew up with stories of old creatures and legends, but I've also seen some things. I'm typing this on my phone, so I apologize if I misspell anything, but hear what I have to say. My village is roughly 250 miles northwest of Fairbanks, Alaska. It is situated in the mountains and surrounded by the National Park. So there's already suspicion of supernatural entities there. Growing up, I was always told about the Inuitigarak, or the little people. These smaller humanoids are of smaller proportions, and they are strong, fast, very smart, and they even speak an old dialect of the language of the area they live in.

At a distant point in time, we lived alongside them and hunted for them, with them out in the Nua or tundra. But as one family was visiting another, a human's dog ate the little one's child, and so became a grudge that sums to hold today towards humans. There are stories of people being lured away from their homes just be tricked and left out in the middle of nowhere. There are also stories of them helping us humans in times of need. Like from my village, Caribou were hurted by a small, blurry thing towards a group of people. according to the story from the 60s or 70s,

and there was a good harvest of animals that fall. There are also stories of the Inukabak, or Big Person, sometimes called Bigfoot by people, even though they don't always look like an ape-like human. The old stories talk of giants that roamed the land in silence or in anger. One story even tells of a cannibalistic one out west near Hnom or Kotebu. Back home, they come out and around when they're not. the Caribou do, like the Inukarat, and will either be mischievous or just watchful of humans.

In my personal experiences, I've seen the little ones and the big ones. They both can resemble humans or just a blur on the land. I believe they're part of another world or dimension, and that's why they cannot always be seen, but hey, we may never know. Father's son camping trip didn't go as planned. This story happened just this summer. I'm only now getting around to writing it down. I would consider myself an outdoorsman.

I grew up in the sticks. I've spent a lot of my time wandering in and enjoying the backcountry. I'm older now and I have settled down in the suburbs. Wife, two boys, a house, a dog, a desk job, a desk job, the whole suburban stick. I want opportunities for my kids that come from suburban life, but I also want them to grow up with the appreciation of the outdoors. So when my oldest son was big enough for his first solo father's son, cammy trip, I was excited. I was excited. My wife and younger son stayed home for this midsummer trip.

It was going to be a great bonding experience for me and my son because my son is just five. I don't want to do anything too extreme on our first big solo camping trip. We needed a place that wasn't too deep into the Colorado front range, but still allowed for dispersed camping. I don't consider camping in RV parks or established campgrounds to be actual camping. You might as well be a motel watching TV camping at most as a show. tent, sleeping bag, and a fire. A dispersed camping area called Gordon Gulch west of Boulder caught my attention. I'd never been to this area before. There were no facilities and it was dispersed enough you could see or hear any other campers nearby. My son and I had a blast that day. We set up camp,

collected firewood, went for a hike, saw a moose and a bobcat, tried a little fishing, and finally as the sunlight faded, we returned to a campsite to light of fire. We had a traditional and nutritious camping meal fire-burned hot dogs and marshmallows. It was a good day. Definitely a core memory for both my son and me, the perfect first camping experience for a preschooler, or so I thought. After all that fun, my son and I were exhausted. It was time for bed. The sound of an evening summer breeze through the pines is better than any commercial sleep aid. I don't even remember drifting off. It was a hard, dreamless sleep that only physical exertion can bring. One thing about my son, he inherited many things from me.

Hair, color, eye shape, disposition, and my unnaturally wide feet. But one peculiar thing he got from his mother was sleep talking. It's not unusual to hear him having full conversations in his sleep. It gets more pronounced when he's overly tired. I was captured out of the void of sleep. Not sure what aroused me. I sat up collecting myself. The world seemed to be at peace.

It was quiet. just me and the breeze through the treetops. I couldn't figure out what woke me so suddenly. The sound of my son laughing and his sleep cut through my groggy confusion. It was a deep belly laugh. Must be a fun dream, I thought hazily, gently rocking him, was enough to quiet him down. It must have been a good enough startled me, I determined. As I re-positioned to fall back asleep, my son burst out laughing.

I sighed and closed my eyes. He'll quiet down soon enough, I thought. He laughed again. This time his laugh was echoed by something outside our tent. I held my breath and listened, unsure of what I just heard. It wasn't an echo. There was something out there and it was laughing in unison with my son. My groginess vanished as the adrenaline began to pump.

It couldn't be real. It had to be imagination. I sat up in my sleeping bag listening to the night, hearing nothing after a minute. My muscles relaxed. I started to settle back down, must have been hearing things. I was tired after all. Checking the time I saw it was four in the morning, the sun would be up in a couple hours. My son laughed again and again, it was answered with laughter outside.

I was now absolutely certain. It was not an echo. As I tried to make sense of what was happening, the voice outside called out my son's name. My blood ran cold. That voice. It was so familiar. Then it clicked in my brain. It was the voice of my younger son.

That wasn't at all possible. He was safe at home with my wife, miles and miles away. I could hear twigs crunching beyond our thin nylon tent walls. It was impossible to tell the distance from us, but there was something out there. Circling us. Unprompted this time, it called out my son's name in the little toddler voice. My five-year-old, still fast asleep, called out to his brother, asking him to play. The thing outside the tent laughed in reply and urged my son to come outside.

That thing with my little son's voice sounded cold. hollow. Dead. The floodgates of my adrenaline burst open. Cold sweat formed on my face. I was frightened out of my mind. But my primal caveman brain roared to life. I was in Papa Bear mode. Nothing was going to take or hurt my son. I was putting a stop to this. Whatever it was out there, I didn't care. You don't mess with my kids. Say what you will, but when you're camping miles from anything, it's not worth the risk of being unarmed. Wild animals. Wild animals. wild people, you have to be prepared. I almost always take a firearm with me when I'm camping. Pepper spray and bear bells are great, but nothing gets attention from a conscious threat faster

than the sound of a chambering around. I spoke loudly into the night that I had a gun and was coming out. I hope the fear in my voice was masked by my aggressiveness. The only reply was the breeze through the treetops. My son was still asleep. Kids are hard sleeper. Another trait from his mom. My wife and I have joked that he could sleep through a tornado. Stepping out into the cool summer night, a gun in one hand, and a flashlight into another, I surveyed the campsite. The fire was down to embers, our fishing gear was leaning against the pickup, the firewood was still neatly stacked, nothing seemed out of place.

Not wanting to stray far from the tent or my sleeping sun, I sat down outside the entrance. I waited in the dark with the flashlight off. Not far into the trees I heard a branch break. Then another snap. this time closer. I stood up and flashed my light in the direction of the sound. Nothing was there. The voice called out, this time from behind, and this time focused towards me.

Daddy, Daddy, it was my youngest son's voice again, crying out for me from the dark forest. I threw the light beam in that direction. A pair of shimmering green eyes were illuminated by my flashlight. There are only two or so feet above the ground, the same height as a toddler. I took a small step forwarded. I wanted to see more. I needed to see more. The eyes, unblinking, remained in place.

Getting closer didn't help reveal this thing. It seemed to absorb the light from my flashlight, almost devouring it. I couldn't make out its size or shape or color. It seemed to swallow up all the light around it, save for its two shimmering green eyes. I think laughed at its hollow toddler's voice, this time with malice and cruelty in it. The eyes never looked away from me, never blinking, focused only on me, like a predator before the pounce. Not wanting to give up on any ground to the predator, I stepped forward again. It didn't move. Not knowing what to do, I screamed as loud as I could. I waved my arms, trying futilely to shoot away.

The eye shimmered, and as it stared back, the eyes shifted from green to amber. I watched it as it began to rise up into the air. It was now apparent to me this thing had been crouching and was now standing up. I could only watch in silent terror as the eyes finally stopped rising, nearly ten feet off the ground. The night air erupted with a deep growl. I could feel the vibrations in my gut. I couldn't see a mouth, but I could see or hear teeth snapping and gnashing. My son in the tent, behind me, began to scream. That was the only time the eyes lost focus on me and shifted towards the screams of my child. My only reaction was to fire my gun into the air, the eyes of me. The eyes had immediately vanished. My ears were ringing, but I could hear the growls turn to shrieks,

followed by a cacophony of crashing branches and undergrowth. I stood there until I couldn't hear the shrieking anymore. It trailed off deep into the trees. I was left with only the sound of the breeze and the treetops and the quiet sobbing of my child. Twilight was beginning to illuminate the forest, shaking and exhausted eye, sat down in the dirt in front of the tent. I tried to collect myself. Daddy, daddy, where are you? My five-year-old shouted. That got me out of my days, I picked myself up and went into the tent to retrieve him. Putting him in the truck, I locked the doors and wasted a little time breaking down camp. You're out of that camp and back on the road by the time the sun broke over the horizon. I have no idea what is in those woods. I do plan to camp

in that area again. I'll bleat without my family and definitely with some friends. I want to find out more about this thing. Thankfully, my son didn't seem phased by anything that happened that night. He thinks I was chasing a bear away from camp and maybe he's just a man. He's just a man. He's right. I hope he is anyways. My son can't wait to go on another camping trip, but truthfully, I'm thinking the next family camping trip might be in an RV park or even a motel. That's family camping, right? Man tried to grab my baby from me on flight. I've flown with my one-year-old solo nearly a dozen times. Usually people are understanding slash kind about me having a baby on my lap. And overall, he's a happy, easy baby.

He's also very cute, so it's not uncommon for strangers to talk to him. Usually, I don't mind. The last trip I took, I sat alone in my aisle when a man sitting by himself directly behind me. My baby was tired and fussing. I knew he was tired, but there's not a lot I could do until after we took off. Right out of the gate, the man behind was talking to my baby saying, Oh, hi, baby. Why sad baby?

Cute, cute baby. I smiled and replied that he was tired. Sorry for the fuss, thank you. After takeoff, I started to get him settled for a nap. The man behind us continued to talk to my baby, putting his hand through the seats trying to grab his feet. Multiple times I asked him nicely to please stop. My baby was tired. You're distracting him. He just needs a nap.

Finally, I sat my baby down next to him. He stood on the floor facing the seat next to me so that I could make him a bottle. The man behind me stood up and reached over my seat to pick him up. I immediately leaned forward to pick up my body. baby saying, no, thank you. I don't need help, please. No, no, thank you. The man pushed me back into my seat while mumbling. Sweet baby, why baby cry? I replied very loudly, no, and quickly picked up my baby. I thought that was the end of that. I was wrong. I tried to rock my baby to sleep while desperately trying not to lose my cool. As I'm rocking my baby, the man behind me reached through our seats to grab

my arm, saying, no rocking. No rocking. You make him cry. I pulled free from him, and yelled, do not touch me. Again, I thought that'd be the end. I started rocking the baby for a second time. This time, the man behind me reached both hands around either side of my seat to hold me in place, saying, no, no rocking, stop rocking. I'm somewhat embarrassed that I completely lost it, clutching my baby to my chest while struggling to get free of them. It hurt. I hit the call light while screaming, let me go, let me go, let me go, do not touch me. Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me go. He was still holding me by my arms when the flight attendants came running. I could barely get anything out to the flight attendants.

Everyone around us was staring. I was sobbing and all I could do was get out, that I could not sit there anymore and for the love of God, please move me. The man behind me tried to move with me, but I told the flight attendants that I did not know him and he could not come with me. I had a good cry in my new seat, but my baby immediately went to sleep. I was moved to be next to the flight attendant's seat. After calming down, I explained to the flight attendants what had happened. multiple times the man that had been behind me got up to try and come back to my new seat, only to be turned around by one of the flight attendants.

Towards the end of the flight, one of the flight attendants told me that they'd explained everything to the pilot, and the pilot had called the FBI and local police to escort the man off the flight. I would also be escorted off, as well as everyone around us that had watched everything happen. He cheered as he was escorted off. I had to interview with the FBI and nearly missed my next flight. Around my trip was done, I had to fly back going through the same airport. It was stressful and emotional, to say the least, even knowing that he was banned from the airline in the airport I haven't flown since.

To the man that tried to grab my baby from me and then wouldn't let go on me, let's never fucking meet again. Semi-truck driver toying with me late at night. No explanation for it. In December of 2015, I was making a north-south cross-country drive through the Midwestern United States. I was a university student at the time, a woman in my young 20s, driving home from the semester break. I was driving through South Kentucky on I-65, around 11.30 p.m., still about an hour away from the city where I was going to stop for the night.

There were no other cars on the road at all, and I had not seen any for a while. That part of I-65 was a six-lane divided highway, three lanes for each direction, in the area south of Mammoth Cave National Park and just northeast of Bowling Green, Kentucky. I was changing the music on my phone when I noticed an 18-wheeler coming up behind me in my rear-view mirror. I stopped what I was doing, clicked off the phone, and waited for the truck to pass. The truck got right even with my car, and instead of completing the pass, matched my speed, and stayed beside me. Then the driver turned on a spotlight on the side of my truck, which shone directly into the cabin of my car and on my face. I was really confused as I'd never seen a truck do anything like this before. The driver kept the light on my car for what seemed like a very long minute, and I was getting creeped out.

I kept my gaze straight ahead. I slowed my speed so that the truck would finish passing me. The driver turned off the light and completed the pass, moving from the middle lane to the right lane in front of my car. I was very creeped out by this, slowed down some more and changed to the leftmost lane to put some space between me and this big rig. As soon as I moved into the leftmost lane, the truck matched my speed again and moved into the middle lane to come parallel. to my car. The driver turned on the light again, shining it directly into the passenger side of my car cabin. I am now confirmed that this truck driver was definitely following me and definitely being super creepy. I kept my gaze straight ahead because I felt like looking over would somehow make it

worse. The truck turned off the spotlight and pulled in front of my car in the leftmost lane. I decided to move away again, changing lanes behind the truck back over to the right most lane and speeding up. I was probably going right around the speed limit again, 70 to 70. By the time I completed the merge, I saw the truck beginning to shift lanes towards me again and speeding up to match me. Before they could pull up next to me again, I decided it was time to get out of there, and I floored it. I sped up to maybe 90 miles an hour, the fastest I had ever driven in my life and put it maybe a mile of distance between me and the truck before slowing down some. I looked up to the rear view mirror and I will never forget the image.

This big orange tractor trailer, illuminated by the street lamps of the highway interchange, absolutely devouring the distance I had put between us. The truck was charging up behind me at an unbelievable speed. I sped up again, but it did not matter. The truck caught up to me, pulled beside me, and turned on the spotlight again. I stared straight ahead, keeping my speed, not daring to look over. It was at this time that I decided my only advantage was the maneuverability of my small car. I hit my brakes and dropped back behind the 18-wheeler, moving into the middle lane behind the

truck. They moved over into the right lane and I moved over behind them. I decided to stay right behind this truck and its blind spot so that they could not see me. I saw a sign for an exit and decided this is how I would escape. I waited behind the truck in its blind spot until we came up on the exit. I waited until the last possible moment. Once the truck body was beyond the point where the exits put ways, I darted out from behind the truck into the exit. Thoroughly shaken and I wondered how far away from the interstate I should go and if the truck would come looking for me. I ended up just pulling into a Wendy's right by the interstate. I parked and got out. I inspected my vehicle looking to see if there was any damage thinking maybe the driver was trying to warn me of

something. That was wrong with my car. There was nothing wrong with it. I waited at the Wendy's for a little while to make sure that truck was long gone before getting back on the interstate and continuing to my hotel. After the break when I drove back to school, I did not use I six. I six. I Clown in the woods. I'm from the UK, if that's any context. So way back in 2016, when the whole killer clown epidemic was huge, I was walking through the woods at around 10 p.m. alone in order to get to a party or gathering that was happening in a secluded part of the forest.

It was almost pitch black, and I could barely see in front of my, instead besides the flashlight on my phone, and everything seemed normal as I was walking to the party. I got to a long stretch of woods with no defined path, but it was the quickest way to the party, so I took it. As I got around midway through, I heard something to my left. I turned and saw a shadowy figure sat on a fallen log. I was understandably unearthed, but I couldn't make out if it was just shadows from the moonlight or if it was an actual person. I made the mistake of shining my phone light directly at it, and I was instantly terrified. sat there. Alone in the middle of the woods was a large-ish man dressed as a clown with full face

paint and supporting the creepiest smile imaginable. I tried to call five different people as I was passing him, and then I heard him get up behind me. I instantly started sprinting towards the end of the long stretch of path, which had a barbed wire fence down the side of it. During the sprint, I was pretending to be on my phone with one of my friends and I could hear him running after me, but there was no chance in hell that I would be turning around to see if I was right. When I got to the path, I jumped over the fence as fast as I could and sliced my hands open as I did so. I then turned around and kept running backwards as I saw the clown, stood behind the fence just staring at me and smiling. I didn't stop running until I got to the party, and I was scared for a very long time after this.

You have to bear in mind that there were so many rumors of people being killed by people dressed as clowns at the time, and while I will never know if the man had evil intentions or was just trying to scare me, it was extremely strange and scary to live through. So, in conclusion, killer clown man from the woods, let's not meet. And all right, guys, that wraps up unsettling stories from Reddit. I really hope you enjoyed this video. And if you did, please like and subscribe to the channel. It helps a ton.

And just thank you so much for watching to the end of this video. It means the world. And comment down below what you'd like to see in the future or what you'd like to see to change or just what you'd like to see in general. And anyways, all right. Until next time. See ya.