Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - 100% REAL SCARY STORIES THAT HAPPENED PART2 #26

Episode Date: October 1, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #truehorrorstories #creepyencounters #nightmarefuel #realhorrorstories #scaryexperiences  Part 2 of 100% REAL SCARY STORIES THAT HAPPENED continues to explore terrifying true events. From close calls with unknown threats to chilling encounters that defy explanation, these stories immerse readers in fear and suspense. Each tale reinforces that real life can sometimes be far more frightening than fiction.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truehorrorstories, creepyencounters, nightmarefuel, realhorrorstories, scaryexperiences, chillingtales, unsettlingmoments, realnightmares, disturbingstories, mysteriousoccurrences, survivalstories, stalkerstories, truestoryhorror, urbanhorrorstories

So here's where things got seriously weird. There were no headlights anywhere in sight, not even that faint glow you sometimes see way down the road when a car is coming from far off. But the sound? The sound was close. Really close. Which could only mean one thing,

whoever had just started up that engine was on the exact same road I was standing on. And then, it happened. The engine revved again, sharp, deliberate, like the driver was announcing their presence, letting me know, hey, I see you. Now, I've been around cars enough to know the difference between someone just testing out their ride and someone trying to get in your head. The rev when someone's showing off is deep and smooth, almost lazy. This was different. Sharper. Aggressive. There was this almost animalistic quality to it, like a growl that says, I'm about to pounce. I had reached this section of the

road where the little comfort I'd been getting from those distant floodlights was completely cut off by a huge stone wall. That wall marked the edge of my neighborhood, the entrance was just past it. The road curved right there, and beyond that bend was nothing but a black void. And I was certain, not, I think, not, maybe, but certain that the rattling, snarling sound was coming from somewhere inside that darkness. The thought of walking toward it made my stomach twist. But unless I wanted to spend the night in the middle of the street, eventually I'd have to go that way. My brain was torn between fight, flight, and just wait and see. In the end, I picked the last one. The rational part of me, that little voice that likes to pretend everything can be explained away,

kept trying to sell me on the idea that this was just some kind of prank. Maybe some kid with a souped-up engine hiding around the corner, waiting to jump scare whoever walked by. But the other part of me, the instinctive, gut-level, something-is-wrong part, was screaming that whatever was waiting in that black stretch ahead of me was not harmless. I took a few careful steps toward the opposite side of the road, aiming for the faint glow of a lamppost that was still working. The second my foot hit the curb on the far side, the engine went dead. Just, click, silence.

I froze. Staring into the dark curve ahead, my pulse started hammering in my ears. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel it, that thick, electric weight in the air you get right before something bad happens. My whole body was tensed up like I just heard the starting gun at a race. And then, boom, a pair of headlights exploded to life, blinding me. Before I could even think that a phantom car came shooting out of the darkness. No slow roll, no warning crawl, it was coming right at me, like it had locked onto me and wasn't about to miss. The roar of the engine was deafening. The light was so bright it punched through my eyelids when I instinctively squinted, which only made it harder to react. I had maybe three seconds, tops, before this thing plowed

into me like I was a deer caught in the middle of the road. I leapt backward, away from the sidewalk and back toward the open section of road behind me. I swear I felt the heat from the engine as the metal frame whipped past me, missing me by inches. My knees hit the concrete hard, pain shooting up my legs, but adrenaline kept me moving. Tires screamed somewhere close, the kind of long, high-pitched squeal you hear in car chases, and I scrambled to my feet, fully expecting to see those lights swing around for another charge. Only, there was nothing. The street was was empty. The lamps that had been out a few minutes ago were now on again, at least, some of them were, and the rest of the world was dead quiet. I just stood there, breathing hard,

trying to process what the hell had just happened. There was no way, no way, a car could miss me by inches, peel off like that, and be completely gone in the two seconds it took me to stand up. Even if it had turned off its lights, I should have seen or heard something, fading tail lights, the diminishing growl of the engine, anything. But there was nothing. What the hell? I muttered, my voice sounding way too loud in the empty street. I'm not easily shaken, but I was stunned. My mind kept looping over the last minute, trying to slot in some kind of logical explanation.

Eventually, once the initial shock loosened its grip, my survival instincts finally yelled, move. So I did. I took off toward my house, every muscle in my body on high alert. While I walked, my brain kept tossing out theories like a bad detective novel. Maybe I'd had more to drink than I thought. Maybe this was just a regular car and my adrenaline had exaggerated the whole thing. But no, that didn't add up. I've been blackout drunk before, not something I'm proud of, and I know the difference between being tipsy and

being stone-cold sober from fear. That revving engine had burned the buzz right out of me that the second I heard it. And besides, I saw it. I know I did. Those headlights weren't some hazy, drunken blur. They were vivid, burning holes into my vision. And behind them, for the split second I caught a glimpse, I could swear I saw the outline of an old school muscle car, maybe a Pontiac GTO, maybe a first-gen Camaro. Hard to say for sure in the chaos, but it wasn't some generic sedan. It had presence, like whoever built it wanted it to feel like a predator on wheels. And yet, the moment I dodged it, it was, gone. Not fading into the distance. Not parked somewhere nearby. Just, gone. I hit the ground, I heard the tires screech, I stood up, and there was nothing

there. I didn't tell anyone at first. What was I supposed to say? Hey, you know that road by my neighborhood. Yeah, I was almost flattened by a ghost car last night. Even I wouldn't have believed me if someone else had said it. To this day, I'm still not sure what to make of it. Sometimes I wonder if it could have been some kind of bizarre nightmare that got tangled up with my memory, but deep down, I know that's not it. I felt the air shift when it passed. I felt the vibration in the ground under my hands. That doesn't happen in a dream. And here, Here's the kicker, the police never found the car that hit Stephanie. The case stayed open, but nothing ever came of it.

Now, before I get into the next part, let me fast forward you to a totally different time and place. This isn't connected to the ghost car thing, at least, I don't think it is. But it happened not too long after, and it's just as burned into my brain. Summer of 2014. I'm a woman, 22 at the time, about to turn 20. that fall. I'm not going to drop my exact location because privacy and all that, but I live in a small college town. I've been here my whole life, born here, raised here, graduated here. The kind of place where everybody knows everybody, and gossip travels faster than the internet. We've got a decent

bit of history here, but also a bit of a drug problem, nothing shocking for a small town, unfortunately. Other than that, we don't really get much, crazy happening. I was working at a gas station that belonged to a family member. My husband and I had opposite work schedules, he worked late, I worked early. And when I say, early, I mean I was dragging myself out of bed at 3.30 or 4 o'clock in the morning so I could open the store at 5 o'clock. I've never really been scared of the dark. I grew up in the countryside just outside of town, surrounded by open fields and big skies. As a kid, I used to lay in the grass at night and just stare up at the stars until my neck hurt. When friends came over, we'd play ghost in the graveyard in the dark, running around until

someone tripped or got spooked. We had about four acres of land, and no one ever bothered us. Darkness wasn't something to be afraid of, it was just, normal. Even now, I'm not much of a city person. I still prefer space to skyscrapers. But that comfort with open, dark places. Yeah, that comes into play here. This next bit is part one of a two-part thing, and the two events happened really close together. So, summer 2014. I'm getting ready for work, same as always. I head out to my car, start it up, and begin pulling out of the driveway of my apartment complex. That's when I see him. A man, walking down the road, dragging a suitcase behind him. It's 4.40 in the morning. The sun's not even thinking about coming up yet. And here's this guy, just, walking. As I got closer, my brain started throwing up red flags. Who walks down the street with a suitcase before dawn unless they're catching some kind of ride? And this wasn't the kind of street you stroll down with luggage unless you're lost or,

something worse. For a second, I actually thought about pulling up next to him, rolling down my window, and asking if he was okay, maybe even offering to call someone for him. But I stopped myself. Because here's the thing, I'm a decent person. I like to help people. But I was also raised with that golden rule drilled into me, don't talk to strangers on the road, and never pick up hitchhikers. It's not about being cold-hearted, it's about staying alive. So no, I wasn't about to invite him into my car. Still, my curiosity was piqued. To be continued.