Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - A Cabin Trip Turns Into a Night of Terror When a Stranger Knocks After Sunset PART3 #5

Episode Date: September 18, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales  #cabintriphorror #strangernight #terrorinthedark #isolatedfear #woodscreep  Part 3 escalates the terror as the stranger��s presence becomes more menacing. The narrator and friends are pushed to their limits, facing moments of intense fear and desperation deep in the woods. Isolation and suspense combine in a deadly mix, revealing how quickly a peaceful cabin trip can spiral into a fight for survival.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, part3finale, cabintripterror, strangerthreat, isolatednight, darkwoods, survivalfight, terrifyingencounter, realhorrorstories, fearandpanic, nightmareunfolds, hauntedwoods, suspensehorror, chillingevents, dangerinthedark

There's so much rugby on Sports Extra from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter Sports Extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. Thus the URC and all the best European rugby all in the same place.

Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. Jampack with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard Pressing applies after 12 months for the terms apply. You didn't deserve what happened.

And it doesn't have to define you. You don't have to carry it alone. I know a safe place where you can tell your story, and you'll be believed. Call the Dublin Rape Crisis Center National Helpline on 1-800-77-8888. Whenever you're ready to talk, they'll be ready to listen.

When I look back at my childhood, there's one name that still makes my skin crawl. That woman left a mark on our lives that none of us could ever really erase, no matter how much time has passed. And honestly, I hope she rots wherever she ended up. It all started when my parents hired Julie as our babysitter. At first, she seemed okay. You know, polite, smiley, acting all sweet like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

But behind closed doors. different person. Julie turned into an absolute nightmare. She'd yell at us, scream over the tiniest things, and sometimes she'd straight up hit us. Not spankings or timeouts, actual hits. Like, full-on slaps. And if we cried, she'd say something like, go ahead, tell your parents. They won't believe you. She was smart about it, too. My parents never saw a damn thing. truly always made sure to be a complete angel around them. There was this one time my dad asked her about a situation, something about me acting out. You know what she said?

Well, what did he do to set me off? Can you believe that? My dad actually entertained the idea that I provoked her. Instead of owning up to anything, she called me a disrespectful little, bleep, and made it all about how terrible I was. Eventually, thankfully, she left. moved on. Gone for good. No warning, no goodbye, just vanished. And honestly, it was the best thing that ever happened to us. That's when me and my sisters finally opened up. We sat our

parents down and told them everything, every slap, every scream, every threat. At first, they were stunned. And maybe their memories were a little fuzzy, or maybe they just couldn't process it. But I know they felt horrible. They had to. I mean, how could they not? They never reached out to Julie again. She was completely cut off from our lives, like she never existed. And no, they didn't call the police or anything.

There wasn't really any proof. Everything was just our word against hers. None of it was caught on camera. She never left bruises. My parents never actually witnessed her doing anything. Still, I wish they had caught her in the act. Maybe they would have believed us sooner. Maybe we would have spoken up earlier if we weren't so damn scared. I think she threatened us. I mean, I think so. It's all kind of blurry now, but that would explain why we kept our mouths shut. Years later, though, we heard something wild.

Julie had been arrested. Served time in jail. Don't know exactly what for, never got the full details, but it kind of felt like karma finally punched her in the face. Me and my sisters still bring it up sometimes, like when we're together on holidays. It's one of those things we'll never fully forget. I don't think I'll ever really forgive her. So yeah, that's my babysitter from hell story. Julie, burn in hell. Now let me switch gears and tell you about something completely different,

equally terrifying, but in a whole other way. This happened during my junior year of college. I was 22 and driving back from my hometown in the suburbs of Chicago to my school, the University of Missouri. It's about a six-hour drive, give or take, depending on weather and traffic. I'd make the trip every month or so, family visits, boyfriend meetups, the usual long-distance life stuff. There are two main routes I could take, one that sticks to the interstate all the way through central Illinois and down into St. Louis, or a second option that cuts through backroads after Springfield until it connects again to the highway closer to campus. Normally, I'd take the backroads. The constant stops and speed changes helped keep me awake,

especially on those solo drives. But this time, there was a snowstorm brewing. Roads were icy. I figured the interstate would be safer, with more traffic and better plowing. So there I was, cruising down I, 55, zoning out to my usual playlist of true crime podcasts. Because nothing says safe travels, like listening to stories about serial killers while driving alone through pitch black highways. Anyway, I was maybe an hour for my exit when traffic suddenly screeched to a stop. I groaned and sat there, headlights stretching out into the night, just hoping it wasn't a serious accident. Emergency vehicles zipped past on the shoulder, lights flashing like disco balls, and I just knew... There's so much rugby on Sports Exter from Sky.

They've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter sports extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time we've put every day. Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. That's the URC and all the best European rugby

all in the same place. Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. Jam packed with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra.

New Sports Extra customers only. Stand-upersing applies after 12 months for the terms apply. I know what you're feeling and I was there too. I know you might think that there is nobody to talk to but I promise that you're not alone. It was never your fault and you deserve support and healing in your own time.

Whenever you're ready to talk, Dublin Rape Crisis Center will be ready to listen. Call the 24-hour National Helpline on 1-800-77-8888. I'd be stuck there a while. Eventually, traffic picked back up. We slowly crawled past the scene, twisted metal, flashing red and blue, the whole grim mess. Once I passed it, I sped up again. I'll admit it, I drive fast. Always have.

It's kind of a college student thing, right? I stayed in the right lane, a decent distance behind the car in front of me, when suddenly, bam, this car came out of nowhere and rode my bumper. Like, right on me. No exaggeration. I muttered something under my breath. There was plenty of room in the left lane, So what was their deal?

Then they started flashing their brights. Over and over again. I turned off my podcast and checked my mirrors. They kept hunking and blinking their high beams, practically blinding me. I freaked and switched lanes, trying to put distance between us. Nope. They followed. Every move I made, they copied.

Left lane. They were there. Speed up. They sped up. Slow down. Right there with me. My stomach dropped. I've watched enough true crime documentaries to know this wasn't normal.

All those stories I'd read online about girls being stalked on highways, traffickers tailing cars, they all came rushing to mind. Especially since my school's town had a recent uptick in that kind of thing. Even the local paper had done a series on sex trafficking near the interstate. Apparently, it's a hot route for stuff like that. Perfect for someone looking to snatch someone up. I tried to shake the thought but couldn't. I kept thinking, is something wrong with my car? Maybe a flat.

A broken light? Still, it didn't make sense. Why not just pass me? It was raining, pitch dark, and freezing cold. I was alone, scared, and flustered. I didn't know what to do. The smart move would have been to drive straight to a police station, but in the moment, I panicked. I didn't think straight. I kept going toward my apartment. The car kept tailing me.

Still flashing lights. Still creeping close. They weren't hunking anymore, just following. I felt my chest tighten. What if they followed me home? What if they knew where I lived? Was this some elaborate trap? I needed to lose them. Fast. Just before I reached my apartment complex, there was a smaller exit off a local road that ran behind campus. I had an idea.

I didn't get into the right lane like I normally would to make the turn. I kept going straight until the very last second, then I jerked the wheel and flew across the gravel shoulder, barely missing the ditch. I careened down the exit ramp like my life depended on it. I looked up at the overpass, shaking. The car had stopped. Completely. Right there. And then they just started honking. Loud, manic, angry. I couldn't breathe. Tears streamed down my face as I called my boyfriend, sobbing, barely able to get the words out. I didn't get a license plate. I didn't get a good look. look at the car. I couldn't tell you the make, model, or even the color for sure. It was dark. It was

raining. I was terrified. So no, I never reported it. But I know this much, I was targeted. That person had no reason to follow me for over an hour, no reason to try and scare me unless they were up to something awful. They probably saw my stickers, my university, my dog mom, bumper sticker, and figured I was just another vulnerable girl driving alone. Easy pickings. But I got away. Barely. Let's fast forward a little.

This next story happened when I was 16. I grew up in this tiny town in Ohio, not too far from Pittsburgh. The kind of town that used to be known for something cool, like pottery, but now just kind of exists. Not much happening. One fall, me and some friends from a night. nearby art school decided to hang out one weekend. There were five of us total, me, Amanda, Beth, Sarah, and Abby. We were bored and looking for something creepy and fun to do. Abby had a new car, a Dodge Durango, and we all piled in and headed to this nearby state park.

It's kind of infamous locally, mostly because of this haunted place called Gretchen's Lock. Legend has it, the daughter of the guy who built the lock system in the 1800s. died of an illness, and they buried her right there. People say her ghosts still lingers, calling out for her mom. You know, classic spooky stuff. So it's late October, chilly, and pitch black out. Perfect vibes. But we weren't there just for ghosts. Amanda brought some weed, and our plan was to get high, listen to me. On the many days of Christmas the ginnas storehouse brings to thee, a visit filled with festivity. Experience a story. story of Ireland's most iconic beer in a stunning Christmas setting at the Guinness Storehouse.

Enjoy seven floors of interactive exhibitions and finish your visit with breathtaking views of Dublin City from the home of Guinness. Live entertainment, great memories and the gravity bar. My goodness, it's Christmas at the Guinness Storehouse. Book now at ginnestorehouse.com. Get the facts. Be drinkaware. Visit drinkaware.awe.e. Music and just vibe out. We parked near the dam, rolled up and hotboxed the hell out of Abbey's car. fogged up every window. We were coughing, laughing, passing joints, and blasting Metro Station's latest CD like it was the greatest music ever made. This was 2010-ish, so don't judge. At some point, Abby opened the door to let in some fresh air. I was sitting in the middle, sandwiched

between Amanda and Sarah. Beth and Abby were in the front. It was one of those moments where we felt invincible, teenagers in the woods, nothing but music, smoke, and our own little world. To be continued.