Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Chilling Encounters With Predators, Stalkers, and the Darkness of Human Obsession PART1 #57

Episode Date: October 25, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #predatorencounters #stalkerstories #humanobsession #truestoryfear #chillingrealstories  Chilling Encounters With Predators, Stalkers, and the Darkness of Human Obsession – Part 1 explores terrifying true stories of individuals who faced predators and stalkers. This first installment examines the fear, manipulation, and danger that victims experienced, highlighting the darkness that human obsession can bring into everyday life.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, predatorencounters, stalkerstories, humanobsession, truestoryfear, chillingrealstories, dangerandfear, unsettlingencounters, suspensefultruestory, realfearhorrorstories, darkhumanbehavior, crimeandobsession, terrifyingexperiences, victimhorrorstories, nightmareencounters

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All it takes is one little nudge, one tiny push, and suddenly you're falling, and there's no stopping that fall until you hit the bottom. That's how my childhood felt, like the universe kept pushing me down little by little until I didn't know what normal was supposed to be anymore. I grew up in a raggedy little city in Connecticut, the kind of place where broken sidewalks, boarded up windows, and liquor store neon lights became part of your personality whether you liked it or not. Some people like to call those kinds of towns small but proud, but to me, it was just survival of the cheapest. Poverty wasn't special, it was standard. Pretty much everyone around me was broke in some way. By the time I was 13 or 14, my mom's health had already gone downhill.

She'd had this terrifying combo of a stroke while also suffering from an aneurysm. Doctors said one more bad blow to the head could be fatal for her. Imagine growing up with that hanging in the air every single day, one wrong move, one fall, one unlucky bump, and your mom could just, vanish. She didn't work. She couldn't. We lived off my dad's disability checks. My dad wasn't around much, so my mom made me her little sidekick. Wherever she went, I went too. She was a heavy smoker, actually, let me correct that, she was a desperate smoker. Cigarettes weren't a habit for her, they were oxygen. And since we didn't have the cash to keep buying them all the time, she came up with this little

nightly ritual, cigarette but hunting. Yeah, it was exactly what it sounds like. After dark, we'd head downtown into the business district where the office workers and bar hoppers had already gone home. She'd dragged me through the sidewalks and parking lots, scanning the ground for half-smoked cigarettes still clinging to a bit of tobacco. To a kid, it felt surreal, like some weird scavenger hunt nobody else knew about. But to her, it was survival. We'd scoop them up, break them apart, and she'd roll the leftover bits into new smokes. She used to call it, poor man's recycling. I should say this up front, my mom was addicted, and I was her helper.

I didn't even think about how strange it was back then because it was just life. Kids don't question survival, they adapt. During the day, we did what I used to call the Soup Kitchen Tour. Different churches, different charities, whoever was serving food, we were there. That was how I first learned that hunger doesn't discriminate. You'd see old veterans, single moms, strung out addicts, and even some families who looked just like mine. There was something comforting about sitting in those lines, like we were all in on the same secret, the world wasn't built for people like us.

It was in one of those soup kitchens that we met Rie. Now, let me paint a picture here. My mom's friend, who was with us at the time, leaned in and whispered, Don't worry, he's gay. He's not going to try anything. That was her grand introduction. Rie was tall, probably 6-2, 6-3. But he wasn't healthy looking tall.

His body seemed stretched thin, like he'd once been a bigger man and the weight had melted off him, leaving only loose skin that hung from his frame. He had those thick glasses that made his eyes look a little bugged out, but when he spoke, his voice carried this southern softness, like sweet tea on a hot day. Something about him felt strangely calming, almost fatherly, which was exactly the thing I'd been starving for without even realizing it. Rie and my mom, her name was Linda, hit it off instantly. Soon he was showing up more and more, and suddenly our nightly cigarette scavenger hunts slowed down. Rie would slip my mom some cash, a pack of smokes, maybe even a little food.

For me, it was heaven. Instead of another can of cheap corn or generic beans for dinner, I'd get chips or fast food from Rhee. Imagine being 14 and biting into greasy fries instead of cold canned vegetables. You'd think you were living like royalty. After a couple of months, we trusted him. Or at least, my mom did, and by default, so did I. He always seemed happy to see us, and he showered us with kindness. That's the kind of thing that makes it so easy to fall into someone's orbit without asking too many questions.

Eventually, we started visiting his apartment. My mom would sink in... Hi, I'm Darren Marler, host of the Weird Darkness podcast. I want to talk about the most important tool in my podcast belt. Spreaker is the all-in-one platform that makes it easy to record, host, and distribute your show everywhere from Apple Podcasts to Spotify. But the real game changer for me was Spreeker's monetization. Spreaker offers dynamic ad insert insert ads into your episodes. No editing required.

And with Spreker's programmatic ads, they'll bring the ads to you, and you get paid for every download. This turned my podcasting hobby into a full-time career. Spreaker also has a premium subscription model where your most dedicated listeners, pay for bonus content or early access, adding another revenue stream to what you're already doing. And the best part, Spreaker grows with you. Whether you're just starting out or running a full-blown podcast network, Spreeker's powerful tools scale effortlessly as your show grows. So if you're ready to podcast like a pro and get paid while doing it, check out Spreaker.com. That's S-P-R-E-A-K-E-R.com. ...to this old love seat he had, cigarette in hand, while Reese sat next to me.

He'd put his arm around me, pulling me close. At the time, I didn't think anything of it. In fact, I loved it. I didn't have friends at school, my family was fractured, and my dad wasn't around. So when someone treated me like I mattered, I clung to it. That kind of attention felt like sunlight to a starving plant. Looking back now, it makes me cringe. that genuine love I thought he was showing wasn't love, it was manipulation.

But try telling that to a lonely kid who just wanted someone to care. There was one moment that still sticks in my brain like gum on a shoe. We were walking down the narrow hallway of his apartment building, and his hand brushed against my backside. I froze. At that age, I had already grown taller than most of the girls in my grade. I was nearly my mom's height and just a little shorter than him. For a split second, my brain screamed, wait, what was that? But then I rationalized it away. The hallway was tight, maybe it was an accident.

I told myself I swung my arms weird, like an ape, and probably caused the contact. Kids are pros at gaslighting themselves into feeling safe. Other people started noticing how much time we spent with That's when the whispers began. Grace and Matt, two people my mom sort of knew, pulled her aside and straight up said, that guy is insane. They told her about this time when they all wanted the same trailer, and when they wouldn't sell it to him, the thing mysteriously burned down days later. Creepy, right? Then there was another story that hit harder. A friend told my mom that Rie had a son, something he never once mentioned to us.

Supposedly, this son was a dentist now, doing pretty well in life, but the dark part was that he had been molested as a kid. By Rhee When my mom told me that, I broke. I cried. I couldn't handle the idea that the one person who made me feel wanted might have been lying, might have been dangerous all along. My trust shattered, but my mom wanted it kept quiet. Now, to really understand this, you need to be to be. know something about my mom. She wasn't innocent. She wasn't some saint who fell on hard times.

My brother used to say she was always kind of rotten, even before the health problems. After her stroke and aneurysm, she didn't soften, she hardened into someone crueller. So even after hearing all these warnings, she still kept seeing Rhee. And because she kept seeing him, she kept dragging me along. It all caught up to me one day at school. I was sitting in class, trying to focus, when my teacher, a woman who genuinely cared about me and had been there through so many rough patches, noticed my eyes watering. She leaned down and asked softly, Are you okay? And I just broke.

Completely. I burst into uncontrollable sobs right there in the middle of class. I couldn't stop. The thoughts of retouching me, the things I'd heard about him, the betrayal of my trust, it all came crashing down at once. To other people, it might have seemed dramatic, but for me, it was like my whole body couldn't hold the secret any more. For privacy.

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dedicated listeners can pay for bonus content or early access, adding another revenue stream to what you're already doing. And the best part, Spreaker grows with you. Whether you're just starting out or running a full-blown podcast network, Spreker's powerful tools scale effortlessly as your show grows. So if you're ready to podcast like a pro and get paid while doing it, check out Spreker.com.

That's S-P-R-E-A-K-E-R.com. I won't give out the real name of the school, but we'll call it L-M-M. Word got to the principal, then the guidance counselor. They pulled me into a room, sat me down and started asking questions about Rhee. I answered them, though I was terrified. They kept me there for what felt like forever, refusing to tell me why. Later I found out they had called my brother's school and my mom at the same time, interviewing them over the phone.

At that point, the truth was out, whether my mom liked it or not. To be continued.