Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - A Terrified Passenger Warned Us About a Dark Cloud—and Then I Saw It Too From the Cockpit #52

Episode Date: July 16, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #aviationhorror #darkcloudentity #hauntedflight #pilotstory #supernaturalwarning  Mid-flight, a panicked passenger starts screaming about a dark cloud no one else can see. Brushed off as a delusion, the warning turns terrifyingly real when the pilot catches a glimpse of it through the cockpit window—a massive, looming presence, not of this world, tailing the plane. “A Terrified Passenger Warned Us About a Dark Cloud” is a spine-tingling tale of fear at 30,000 feet, where the sky hides more than storms.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, flightterror, ghostcloud, unseenentity, pilotencounter, hauntedskies, airplanehorror, supernaturalflight, inescapablefear, cursedaltitude, midairnightmare, ominouswarnings, skydemons, aerialhaunting, invisiblethreat

Hello everyone, good morning or good evening, depending on where you are. I'm not sure where or how to begin. The event I'm about to describe happened not too long ago, perhaps a few months back, but every detail is still etched in my mind. I work as a pilot and this job has exposed me to many things, situation stranger than fiction, but what happened on this flight, that was something else entirely. Something that has made me think a thousand times every time I take to the skies. I won't mention the airline's name, the flight number, or any details that could identify

anyone involved with me, not myself, not the captain I was with, not even the flight attendants. Privacy is important, and I don't want any trouble for anyone. Anyway, it was a routine night flight, from an airport in one Arab country to Cairo International. The weather was good, visibility excellent, no weather warnings, everything was proceeding by the book. I was the co-pilot at the time, flying with an experienced captain, a respectable and calm man, let's call him Captain Arthur. The first hour and a half of the flight passed with utmost calm. We completed our procedures, reached our cruising altitude, the autopilot was engaged, and we were monitoring the instruments, chatting about mundane topics.

The engine sound was steady, like a gentle music one gets used to. The passengers were almost all asleep or watching. movies. A classic atmosphere for any long-haul night flight. Suddenly, the cockpit intercom buzzed. It was one of the flight attendants. Her voice had a slight note of concern. Captain, we have a passenger causing a bit of a disturbance and refusing to stay in his seat. He's saying strange, incoherent things. Captain Arthur responded calmly, as was his nature. Strange things like what? Does he seem intoxicated, or what's the situation. The flight attendant replied, no, Captain, he looks perfectly normal but

terrified, literally terrified. He keeps saying he must talk to you, that he needs to warn you about something very important. We've tried to calm him down and explain that we don't allow passengers into the cockpit, but he's insistent in shouting loudly, and the other passengers are starting to wake up and get annoyed. I looked at Captain Arthur, and he looked at me. This wasn't the first time a passenger had caused a problem, but usually, it was for trivial reasons, or someone was just afraid of flying. But the flight attendant's description of this man, terrified and saying strange things, that was a bit unsettling. Captain Arthur told the flight attendant, All right, try to calm him down again, and tell him the captain is

busy and can't speak to anyone right now. If he continues to cause a disturbance, let me know, and we'll see how to proceed. The flight attendant hung up, and we returned to our duties. But honestly, I wasn't comfortable. The word terrified, stuck in my mind. About ten minutes later, the intercom buzzed again. The same flight attendant, but this time her voice was louder and had a noticeable tremor, Captain Arthur, the situation is worsening.

The man is practically having a breakdown. He's banging on the cockpit door and scream. screaming, saying things no one understands. He's saying, it's coming, you have to listen to me, you'll kill us all. All the passengers are awake and scared of him now. That's when Captain Arthur started to genuinely worry. He looked at me and said, checked the surveillance cameras by the cockpit door. I opened the small screen that displayed what was happening outside the door. The sight was odd. A man in his late 30s or early 40s, dressed. in ordinary clothes, his hair disheveled, his eyes wide with a frightening intensity, and filled

with tears. He was gesturing wildly with his hands and yelling, his whole body trembling. The flight attendants were around him, trying to pull him away from the door, and he was resisting them with all his might. Captain Arthur sighed and said, this man doesn't look normal at all. Okay, listen, flight attendant's name, does he have anything in his hands? Any bag? Any sharp object? The flight attendant replied with difficulty, trying to speak amidst the commotion, No, Captain, his hands are completely empty. He just wants to talk to you.

Silence filled the cockpit for a few seconds. Captain Arthur was thinking, Safety regulations are very strict about opening the cockpit door during flight, especially for someone in this state. But at the same time, this man was causing panic throughout the aircraft. After some thought, Captain Arthur said, All right, listen to me carefully. I'll let him speak to us through the external intercom speaker next to the door.

Let him stand in front of it and talk, but you all stay around him, and don't leave him unattended. If he tries to make any suspicious move, or if he says anything that threatens the safety of the flight, you will act immediately according to your training. The flight attendant said, understood, Captain. A few minutes passed, and we could hear you. hear muffled sounds of commotion and argument from outside. Then, the flight attendants' voice

came through again, Captain, he's ready to speak on the intercom. Captain Arthur opened the line and said in a firm voice, yes, sir, this is the captain of the aircraft. Go ahead, tell me what you have to say, quickly and calmly. The voice that came from the speaker was choked, breathless, as if he'd been running a marathon. He spoke in broken sentences, in Arabic but with a strange accent, perhaps Levantine or Gulf, I couldn't quite place it at the time due to his agitation. Captain, please, you have to believe me, there's something, something behind us. Following us. Captain Arthur and I exchanged a look of bewilderment. What's behind us, sir? The weather is clear, and there are no other aircraft near us on the radar, Captain Arthur replied.

The man screamed into the speaker, no. No. Not an aircraft. It's, it's a cloud. A strange cloud. It's chasing us. I've been seeing it from the window since we took off. It's getting closer every minute. A cloud? We were at an altitude of over 35,000 feet. Most clouds are far below us, except for certain types of massive cumulonymus clouds, and those show up on the weather radar from a distance, and we avoid that. them. Our radar was clean as a whistle. Captain Arthur tried to calm him, sir, there are no clouds behind us or around us. We can see the instruments clearly, and the weather is perfectly clear. Perhaps you're just a bit anxious about flying. The man's voice became filled with a terrible despair, no. I swear to God I see it. It's black, black and huge, and shapeless. It's like, like it's watching us. Please look carefully. Look with your own eyes. You'll kill us all if you keep disbelieving me. I started to feel a genuine sense of unease. The tone of his voice wasn't an

act. This was raw terror. Captain Arthur, despite his skepticism, told the flight attendant, have him describe its exact location relative to the aircraft. The man began to describe, still shouting, behind the tail. Slightly to the left of the tail. It's huge. It's swallowing the stars behind it. It's getting bigger every moment. Captain Arthur looked at me and said quietly,

take a look out the cockpit window, towards the left rear, but be discreet, don't make it obvious. The cockpit has small side windows. I got up slowly, trying to crane my neck and look as far back to the left as possible. The sky was so. clear, the stars shining brightly. There was no trace of any clouds. I sat back down. Nothing there, Captain. The sky is perfectly clear, I said, trying to reassure myself before reassuring him.

Captain Arthur spoke to the man again, Sir, we've looked ourselves. There's nothing there. You need to calm down and have a glass of water. The flight attendant will help you. But the man burst into tears and screams, no. You can't see it. It's hiding from you. It knows you're looking. You have to do something. You have to get away from it. Captain Arthur had clearly lost his patience. He told the flight attendant, that's enough. Try to get him back in his seat, any way you can. If he refuses, use restraints if you have to. Notify airport security as soon as we arrive. We closed the intercom, and a heavy silence descended upon the cockpit. I still felt uneasy.

Captain Arthur noticed this and said, don't worry. It's just a panic attack. It happens sometimes. The safety of the other passengers is what matters. I tried to focus on the instruments, but the man's words about the cloud that's chasing us, kept ringing in my ears. About 15 minutes later, I was routinely scanning the navigation. displays when I noticed something strange on the weather radar screen. A very small blip on the edge of the radar's range in roughly the same direction the man had

described. It was appearing and disappearing. I said to Captain Arthur, Captain, take a look at the weather radar. There's like, a very faint signal towards our seven or eight o'clock, meaning the rear left of the aircraft. Captain Arthur leaned closer to the screen and focused on it. The blip appeared again for a moment and vanished. He said, probably interference or clutter. These radars are very sensitive. If it were a real cloud, it would be much clearer than this, and it would remain stable. His words were logical.

But my heart was heavy. I kept my eye on the radar every few minutes. The blip was still appearing and disappearing, but I started to feel like it was, getting closer. Very slowly, but closer. About ten more minutes later, the blip became a bit clearer on the radar. Still intermittent, but clearer. Captain Arthur noticed it too. We didn't speak, but we looked at each other. A look of unspoken questions and suppressed anxiety. Could it be another aircraft not visible on the T-CAS, traffic collision avoidance system, for some reason? I asked, trying to find a logical explanation. Unlikely. But let's contact air traffic control and ask, Captain Arthur said.

We contacted the nearest air traffic control center and asked if there was any unidentified air traffic in our vicinity, especially behind us to the left. The response was a firm negative. The airspace around us was completely clear in the sector we were inquiring about. At that moment, the anxiety began to transform into another feeling, a sense of strangeness. As if something wasn't right. Captain Arthur, with his experience, tried changing the radar frequency, zooming in and out, hoping for a clearer picture. But to no avail. It remained a mysterious blip, slowly but steadily approaching.

I told him, Captain, I'm going to look out the window again. This time, I'll focus very carefully. Easy does it, he said, his eyes on the instruments. I got up again, trying to look further and more intently. The sky was still black and full of stars. But this time, this time I saw something. Something at the very edge of my vision. A blackness within the black.

As if a piece of the sky was erased. A patch devoid of stars. A patch that was moving. I quickly returned to my seat, my heart pounding hard. Captain, there's something. Something huge and black. There are no stars in that area at all. Just like the man said. Captain Arthur raised an eyebrow and looked at me intently. Are you sure? Not an optical illusion. I'm sure, Captain. See for yourself. Captain Arthur cautiously got up and looked out the window. He looked for a while, then returned to his seat in complete

silence. His face, had changed. His expression indicated he'd seen something he hadn't wanted to believe. Did you see it? I asked in a low voice. He nodded slowly. I saw it. The silence that fell upon the cockpit this time was different. It wasn't the silence of contemplation, it was the silence of, dread. We were both professional pilots, believers in science and logic. But what we were seeing had no logical explanation. Suddenly, the intercom buzzed again. This time, the flight attendant's voice was very shaky, as if she was crying. Captain, the man, the man suddenly calmed down completely.

He's sitting in his seat, looking out the window, and smiling a very strange smile. And he's saying, he's saying, they've seen it now. Now it's their turn to act correctly, Captain Arthur and I looked at each other. Those words hit us like a thunderbolt. Did this man know we would see it? And did he know what we were supposed to do? Captain Arthur, despite everything happening, maintained his composure. He picked up the intercom handset and told the flight attendant, listen to me carefully.

I want that man to speak to us again. Immediately. A few seconds later, the man's choked voice came through again, but this time it was unervingly calm. Yes, Captain. Captain Arthur said, in a voice he tried to keep as normal as possible, you, what exactly are you seeing? And what are we supposed to do? The man replied with perfect calm, as if explaining a lesson in school, you see it now, don't you? The black cloud that swallows the stars. It's behind us, and it's watching us. It's been doing this with other planes for a long time. Other planes? I asked quickly. What planes? It doesn't matter, the man replied.

What matters now is you? It knows you've seen it. But it's not yet sure you understand its nature. If it senses you're afraid of it, or that you're trying to escape it overtly, it will get closer. And that will be a big problem. Captain Arthur said, A big problem how? This is just a just, just a strange atmospheric phenomenon, right? He was trying to convince himself more than the man. The man let out a faint laugh that made the hair on my body stand on end. Atmospheric phenomenon? No, Captain. This isn't an atmospheric phenomenon. This is, something else entirely. Something older than the sky itself. He paused for a moment, then continued, listen to me very carefully.

This is the most important part. You must act as if you see nothing. As if everything is normal. Continue your flight as usual. Same speed, same altitude, same course. Don't make any sudden maneuvers. Don't talk about it on the radio with anyone. Don't let anyone among the passengers or crew, other than myself, of course,

and I've understood my role, sense that anything is wrong. How? I asked, not understanding. How can we act as if we don't see a black monster the size of a small city chasing us? You must, he said decisively. It's waiting for your reaction. If you ignore it completely, as if it doesn't exist, as if it's just part of the night, it will gradually lose interest in you.

It will feel that you're, not a worthy target. or that you're too foolish to understand the danger. His words were insane. But at the same time, the terror that had been in his voice earlier, and the confident calm with which he spoke now, made us, believe him. Or at least, it made us willing to try anything. Captain Arthur asked him, and you, how did you know all this? The man fell silent again for long seconds,

so long that we thought the line had disconnected. Then he said in a low voice, as if she said, sharing a secret, this sky isn't ours alone, Captain. It never has been. Go and ask what really happened to Malaysia Flight 370. Ask seriously, and look beyond the official statements. After that sentence, the line disconnected. We tried to call him again, but the flight attendant said he had gone back to looking out the window, wasn't responding to anyone, and still had that strange smile on his face. Captain Arthur and I sat looking at each other for minutes, trying to process what we had heard. A cloud chasing us, a mysterious passenger telling us to ignore it, and hinting at

the fate of the missing Malaysian airliner. It was a nightmare. But we didn't have the luxury of time. This thing, the cloud or entity or whatever it was, was still behind us. It was now showing more clearly on the radar, and visible to the naked eye from the windows if we looked carefully. It was a huge, black mass, with no distinct features, moving with us at our exact speed, maintaining a constant distance. Stranger still, it made no sound and didn't affect the aircraft's performance or its instruments. It was like, a giant phantom. Captain Arthur broke the silence, we'll do as he said. I looked at him, disbelieving. Seriously, Captain, we're going to ignore that.

Do you have another solution? He asked, looking me straight in the eye. If we try to escape, his words might turn out to be true, and things could get worse. If we report it, they'll call us crazy. Let's try it. Act calmly, as if nothing's wrong. And focus on our jobs. And indeed, that's what we did.

We re-engaged the autopilot and went back to monitoring the instruments as if everything was normal. But of course, it wasn't normal. Every few seconds, I would involuntarily glance at the radar screen, or try to catch a glimpse of the edge of this thing from the window. My heart was beating so violently I could hear it in my ears. Sweat drenched me, even though the cockpit air conditioning was working fine. An hour passed. An hour of silent terror An hour of us pretending not to see the monster stalking us in the darkness of the sky.

Every minute felt like a year. I felt the eyes of that thing on us, studying us, waiting for any wrong move. Captain Arthur was incredibly composed. He spoke to me in a normal voice about routine flight matters, as if he genuinely hadn't noticed anything. I tried to play along, but my voice came out shaky despite myself. Suddenly, I noticed something on the radar. The black spot was starting to move away. Very slowly at first, then its speed increased slightly. I looked out the window cautiously.

The black mass was still there, but it was indeed starting to shrink, as if it were retreating. I said in a hushed voice, Captain, it's moving away. Captain Arthur looked at the radar, then out the window. He didn't try to hide the flicker of hope that appeared in his eyes. Let's keep an eye on it. And do nothing different. We maintained our course. Another half hour, and the thing was receding further and further. Until it disappeared completely from the radar screen. We looked out the windows, there was no trace of it. The sky was perfectly clear again, the stars shining as if nothing had happened. A feeling of relief, mixed with disbelief, flooded the cockpit. We sighed in unison. It was as if a mountain had been lifted

from our chests. Captain Arthur said, his voice still bearing a trace of tension, thank God. We made it through. Thank God, I replied, still not quite comprehending. The rest of the flight passed uneventfully, at least outwardly. But of course, it wasn't uneventful for us. Every so often, we'd check the radar, peer out the windows, as if afraid this thing might return. As we approached Cairo and began our descent procedures, Captain Arthur asked the flight attendant to check on that strange man. The flight attendant replied that he was asleep. Sleeping soundly and very peacefully, as if nothing had happened. When we landed safely at the airport, and I was shutting down the engines, Captain Arthur said, we have to see this man and talk to him.

We need to understand more from him. As soon as the passengers began to disembark, we also quickly left the aircraft and stood by the exit door, waiting for him. The flight attendants were with us, also wanting to see him. All the passengers disembarked, one after another. Young people, old people, families, children, but there was no sign of that man. We were very surprised. We asked the lead flight attendant, did he get off? Are you sure you saw him disembark? She said, as puzzled as we were, I was standing at the door the whole time, Captain.

I didn't see him get off. But I also didn't see him get up from his seat after he woke up shortly before landing. He was sitting in seat number X, by the window. We hurried to look at the seat she mentioned. The seat was empty. There was no trace of him. No bag, no jacket, nothing to indicate anyone had been sitting there at all. We looked at each other in shock.

How? How could a passenger just disappear from an airplane? Did he deplane with the other passengers, and we just missed him? Impossible. We were paying very close attention. Did he, was he never even there? No, we spoke. to him, saw him on the surveillance cameras. And the flight attendants interacted with him.

We checked the passenger manifest. The name corresponding to that seat was a very ordinary name, nothing remarkable about it. Airport security thoroughly searched the aircraft after we told them the story, of course, we didn't tell them about the cloud, just that a passenger had been causing a disturbance and had disappeared. They found no trace of him. It was as if he had, simply dissolved into thin air. To this day, Captain Arthur, who became more like a brother to me after what happened, and I can find no logical explanation for that night. Who was that man? And what was the cloud or the thing that was following us? And how did he know all that? And why did he disappear in that manner? Whenever I look at the night sky, especially on long flights over

remote areas, I feel like eyes are watching us from the darkness. And I remember that man, words, this sky isn't ours alone. That sentence keeps ringing in my ears. And I always ask myself, what really happened to Flight 370? And how many other flights have gone through the same experience with no one ever knowing? If any of you have any explanation, or have experienced something similar, please share it. I need to understand. I need to know I'm not crazy. Sorry for the length, but I needed to get this off my chest. Thank you for listening. The end.