Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Chilling True Stories of Stalkers, Break-Ins, and Creepy Encounters That Haunt Forever PART1 #17

Episode Date: October 20, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #stalkerencounters #breakinhorror #creepytrueevents #hauntingstories #truefear  Part 1 of Chilling True Stories of Stalkers, Break-Ins, and Creepy Encounters That Haunt Forever shares real-life experiences of fear and vulnerability. From persistent stalkers to terrifying home break-ins and unnerving encounters, these stories highlight the lingering effects of danger and trauma. Readers are taken through suspenseful and haunting experiences that blur the line between ordinary life and horror.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, stalkerencounters, breakinhorror, creepytrueevents, hauntingstories, truefear, unsettlingencounters, chillingmoments, realfearstories, darkencounters, nightmarefuel, homeintruders, urbanhorror, fearinthehome, terrifyingtrueevents

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 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. Collini, did you know if your age between 25 and 65?

Well, you can get a free HPV cervical check. It's one of the best ways to protect yourself from cervical cancer. And you know what? I actually checked only recently when mine was due and no exaggeration. It took me less than five minutes. You go online to hse.com. But in your PPS number, check in the date of birth. And then they tell you when your next appointment is due.

Oh my God. I know. I know. And you can check you on the register on the website so you can phone [phone]. If your test is due today, you can book today or hscccccc. i.e. 4. slash cervical check. Horror. The stranger at the pool and the knock at midnight.

All right, so let me roll it back a little bit and give you some background before diving into the creepy stuff. Picture this. My brother and I were both about 10 years old. At that age, our world pretty much revolved around school, cartoons, and the occasional Friday night swimming lesson at this public pool not too far from where we lived. It was maybe a 10-minute drive from our house, tops. My dad would load us into the car every Friday evening, drop us at the pool, and wait around while we splash like idiots in the water, trying to learn proper strokes, but really just goofing off most of the time. Swimming lessons themselves weren't that bad.

I mean, for 10-year-olds, it was basically half learning and half just screwing around, dunking each other, seeing who could hold their breath the longest, that sort of thing. But the best part came after the actual lesson. Once we were dismissed, my brother and I had this little ritual. We'd head over to the spa pool, the warm, bubbly one, and just chill there until our dad was ready to gather us up and head home. Now, on this one particular Friday night, everything felt normal at first. My brother and I were sitting in the spa pool, splashing, laughing, talking about whatever

dumb thing 10-year-olds talk about. Maybe we were arguing about Pokemon cars. or planning which snacks we wanted when we got home, but in the middle of all that, something kind of shifted. Across from the spa, sitting in one of those cheap white pool chairs, there was this guy. At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It's a public pool.

People sit around all the time. But after a couple of seconds, I realized he wasn't just sitting. He was staring, staring directly at me. Now, let me paint you a picture of this dude, because the image is still burned into my brain even after all these years. He was tall, like really tall, the kind of tall that makes you notice even when someone is sitting down. His body was thin, almost lanky, like his clothes were just draped over bones. His face, sharp. He had this pointed nose that made his profile look kind of bird-like. His eyes were small,

button-like, but intense in this weird way, like he was trying to drill whole. He was trying to drill holes into me with them. His hair was short and thin, all gray, like wisps of smoke. And his skin? This is the part that really stuck out. It was this unnatural shade of red, almost like he'd just been sunburned really badly, but it didn't look like a normal sunburn either. Now, I'd seen this man before. He wasn't some random stranger appearing out of nowhere. I remembered spotting him around the pool a couple of times in the past. Once, I even thought I saw my dad chatting with him, which, at 10 years old, made me assume, oh, he must be fine.

Dad wouldn't just talk to some creepy person. But even with that rationalization, something about the way he was looking at me that night felt wrong. It wasn't the kind of casual glance you give someone at the pool. It was focused, deliberate, and it made my skin crawl in a way I didn't fully understand back then. I tried to ignore it at first. I mean, I was 10.

What was I supposed to do? But the longer I sat in that spa, the more uncomfortable I got. My chest started feeling tight, my stomach twisted up. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. I climbed out of the spa pool and went to sit outside near the entrance, waiting for my dad to wrap things up. My brother stayed behind, probably confused about why I'd suddenly bailed. That should have been the end of it, just a weird night with a weird guy who looked at me too long. But it wasn't. That was just the start. Not long after that night, I started noticing him everywhere, and I mean everywhere. At first, it was just at swimming lessons.

Every Friday night, without fail, there he'd be, hanging around, lingering, sometimes pretending to read a magazine, sometimes just pacing, but always with those eyes, watching. Then it escalated. I'd be at the grocery store with my mom, and there he was, standing near the produce section, not shopping, just there. I'd go to the mall with friends, and I'd catch him leaning against a railing or pretending to look at a storefront. Once, outside of school, I saw him standing across the street like he was waiting for someone, and every single time his eyes would find mine.

It got to the point where I'd feel that uncomfortable prickle on the back of my neck before I even saw him, and sure enough, I'd turn and spot him. I never told my dad. Looking back, I can't explain why. Maybe I thought I was overreacting. Maybe I thought he wouldn't believe me. Or maybe, being 10, I just didn't have the words to explain how unsettling it all felt. But then there was this one incident that really flipped the switch.

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, Spreaker's monetization. Spreaker offers dynamic ad insertion.

That means you can automatically 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. Sprinker also has a premium subscription model where your most 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. 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 spreeker.com. That's S-P-R-E-A-K-E-R. For me. My mom had taken me to a department store. We were wandering through aisles, looking at clothes, or maybe toys, I don't really remember. What I do remember is that every single aisle we turned down, there he was, standing at the end, not even, pretending to shop this time, just watching. And he wasn't empty-handed anymore. He had a camera,

always in black clothes, with this camera bag strapped around him like it was glued to him. That was when my gut went from, this is weird, to this is bad. The first time my friends noticed him was at the mall. I hadn't even seen him yet when one of my friends elbowed me and said, Hey, that guy keeps looking at you. I turned, and sure enough, there he was. I finally told my friends the whole story, that he'd been showing up everywhere, staring, following. My friend's older sister didn't hesitate. She said, tell Mall security right now. So I did. And the second security started walking toward him, he bolted, just got up and left without a word. That was the first real validation I got, that other people could see it too, that it wasn't all in my head. Fast forward about two years.

By then, the memory of him had started fading. Life goes on, you know, middle school stuff, sports, video games. He became this distant, blurry figure in my past, like a bad dream I'd mostly forgotten, until the day the school office called me in. They said my uncle was there to pick me early. Confused, I walked toward the office. And who do I see? Standing there with his arms wide open like we were family? Him. My stomach dropped. I froze. All those feelings I'd buried came flooding back like a punch to the gut. I didn't even hesitate. I walked right past him straight to the receptionist and said clearly, that man is not my uncle. Then I turned around and marched back to class. After that, things escalated again. My school sometimes let us eat lunch outside,

and every time we did, there he was, somewhere nearby. He'd wave at me, smile, even try to lure me over with a chocolate bar, like I was some stray dog he was trying to coax closer. It got bad enough that the school finally called my parents. My dad was furious, beyond furious. He demanded the police be involved. And that's when the truth came out. Turns out this man was a convicted sex offender. When the police searched his stuff, they found his camera filled with hundreds of pictures of me. Some of them were zoomed in through my bedroom window. I can't even describe how sick that made me feel. Violated, exposed. He was arrested and we got a restraining order. Thankfully, I never saw him again after that. That whole thing happened more than a decade ago, but sometimes it still creeps into my

thoughts. It's wild how something like that, something you didn't even fully understand at the time, can shape the way you look at strangers forever. And as if that story wasn't enough nightmare fuel, life decided to throw another creepy experience my way years later. This one was different though. Less about someone obsessing over me and more about one terrifying night in my own house. By then, I was in my late 20s, living in a nice neighborhood in Arizona. I was a former football player, a pretty big guy, so I never really worried much about safety. Plus, I had two roommates, which meant there was almost always someone around. One night, I got back from a business trip. It was late, midnight, and I was dead tired. I dropped my bags, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed

straight into bed. Normally, nothing wakes me up once I'm out. I'm a heavy sleeper. But around 3 a.m., I got jolted awake by this loud pounding at my front door. It wasn't just a knock. It sounded like someone was trying to break the door down. My first thought, my roommates. It was a Saturday night, maybe they'd gone drinking and forgotten their keys. So I stumble out of bed, half asleep, trudging through the hallway in the dark. That's when I notice, all the bedroom doors are wide open. No roommates home. Okay, weird, but maybe they just hadn't come back yet. I get to the front door, peek through the peephole, and see a young woman standing there. She looked off, kind of cute, sure, but she had this frantic scattered energy. She was wearing baggy jeans, a sweatshirt, and a beanie,

which made no sense because, hello, this was Arizona in the middle of summer. It was easily 95 degrees even at night. She looked nervous, almost panicked, like someone was chasing her. I was about to unlock the door to check on her when she suddenly started laughing, and not a normal laugh, a twisted, disturbing, manic laugh. That froze me in place. Then she said, I have to pee, please let me in. I just stood there, silent, watching her through the peephole. Something about her tone, that laugh, the way she shifted, it set off alarm bells in my head. Instead of opening the door, I waited. After a few seconds, She suddenly turned around and skipped down my driveway like a little kid.

I shook my head, muttered something about drugs, and went back to bed. But, 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 insertion.

That means you can automatically insert ads. into your episodes, no editing required. And with Spreaker'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 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,

Spreaker'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 spreeker.com. That's S-P-R-E-A-K-E-R.com. 30 minutes later, just as I was drifting off, the pounding started again. This time, when I looked, it wasn't the girl. It was a man. He was dressed almost identically to her, same baggy clothes, same weird vibe.

He was scrawny, not threatening in size, but his eyes were wild. And behind him, the girl, jumping up and down. laughing again. The man leaned right into the pee-pole and said, yo, you better let us in. My girl has to pee. At that moment, all the horror movie scenes I'd ever watched started flashing through my brain. I...