Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Creepy Encounters at the Library Teenagers Stalked and Harassed by Strange Men PART2 #34

Episode Date: October 12, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #libraryterror #creepystalker #truehorrorstories #unsettlingencounters #scarylibrarytale  In Part 2 of this disturbing story, the teenagers face even more intense harassment at the library. The strange men become bolder, turning a quiet place of study into a scene of fear and paranoia. Their creepy encounters escalate, leaving them questioning if they’ll ever be safe.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, libraryterror, creepystalker, unsettlingencounters, truehorrorstories, teensinstalkerhorror, paranormalencounters, creepyexperiences, disturbinglibrary, survivalhorrorstories, hauntedencounters, strangehorrorstories, terrifyingmoments, scarystalkerencounters, part2horrorstories

Horror. Number two, the creepy library guy. It was February of 2010, and I was just shy of turning 14, about a month away, actually. At that age, the world felt both small and overwhelming. I lived in a regional Australian city with a population hovering around 47,000 people, give or take. It wasn't a huge place, but it wasn't so small that everyone knew each other's business either. It was the kind of town where the library, the shopping center, and the high school felt like the center of the universe. Back then, my friends and I had a habit of heading down to the town library after school. We weren't exactly the type to hang out at the skate park or roam around aimlessly in the streets. The library gave us something better, a quiet, calm, safe-fe-feeling

place where we could flop down in chairs, chat, snack on whatever junk food we smuggled in, and sometimes even actually read or do homework. The librarians weren't strict about food or noise as long as we weren't disruptive, which made it the perfect after-school hideout. Usually there were three or four of us, but one day it was just me and my friend Annie. We were both 13 at the time, awkward in that early teen kind of way, caught between childhood and something else. We sat down at one of the public computers, which were set up in pairs facing each other. That meant there was another computer directly across from us, so anyone sitting there would be facing us the entire time. At that other computer sat a man. He looked to be in his late 30s, maybe early 40s.

He wasn't dressed fancy or memorable, just an average adult man in a town full of them. He leaned over, cleared his throat, and asked us politely if he could borrow a pen. Now let me pause here and admit something about myself at that age. I was painfully shy. like painfully. I was short for my age, quiet, cautious, and absolutely terrible at talking to strangers. Every interaction with an unfamiliar adult felt like walking through a minefield. So when he asked, I stayed quiet, silently praying Annie would handle it. Thankfully, she did. She handed him her pen without hesitation while I sat there pretending to be invisible. But instead of writing something down, he just scribbled nonsense on a piece of paper while whispering to us in this low, conspiratorial voice.

Hey, he said, do you see that strange man over there? Annie and I both glanced around. Sure enough, there was a tall, middle-aged man loitering by the bookshelves in our section of the library. I had noticed him earlier out of the corner of my eye, but hadn't thought anything of it. He looked like any other random patron browsing the shelves. The guy with our pen leaned closer, his voice dropping even lower. Be careful. I think that man's been watching you. My stomach gave a tiny lurch.

Annie and I exchanged nervous glances, nodded, and muttered that we'd be careful. After that, he gave the pen back and returned to his computer like nothing had happened. At the time, we thought it was odd, but not alarming. We were kids. We didn't have the instinct to sense danger the way adults sometimes do. So we just shrugged it off. The next day. The following afternoon, I came back to the library with my best friend Jessica.

This time, we sat at the far end of the library, in a cozy little area with a small table, a couple of couches, and a few chairs. We kicked off our shoes, plopped our snacks on the table, and sprawled out like the library was our living room. It didn't take long before the creepy man appeared again. The same tall, middle-aged little-aged. guy from the day before. He drifted into the area we were sitting, pretending to browse books. I remembered the warning from yesterday, but again, I didn't let it sink in. He wandered around and

eventually left. Not long after, my older brother Thomas showed up. He was 16 at the time, lanky and restless, not exactly thrilled about hanging around with his little sister and her best friend. Still, he dropped into a chair with us. Secretly, I kind of wished he'd go do his own, own thing, so Jessica and I could chat without him hanging around. But within five minutes, I changed my mind completely, because the man came back. This time, he didn't bother hiding it. He looked at us openly, his eyes landing on me like I was the only person in the room. I could feel the weight of his gaze pressing on me, even when I tried to ignore it. Through my peripheral vision, I caught him peeking at us through the gaps in the bookshadow.

like a hunter watching prey. He'd stand there, phone in hand, murmuring quietly into it, or pretending to. It was so obvious that he wasn't really talking to anyone. He was too busy staring. Every so often, when he looked away, I'd glare at him with my best, what the actual hell expression, hoping Jessica would notice and we'd silently acknowledge the weirdness. But she never reacted. She just kept chatting with me like nothing was happening. Meanwhile, my skin was crawling. The longer it went on, the more restless and irritated I felt. After about 30 minutes of this, the man drifted toward the far end of the library. Jessica and I breathed easier, but we still didn't say anything to each other. It was like we were both avoiding the subject,

as if naming the weirdness out loud would make it worse. The librarian's intervention. Then, completely out of nowhere, a librarian approached us. She was usually friendly, but this time her tone was serious. Girls, could I see you in my office for a moment? My first thought was, great, we're in trouble. I was sure she was going to lecture us about being too loud, eating food, or walking around without shoes, something trivial like that. We followed her into a small office, feeling awkward and anxious. But instead of scolding us, she closed the door and asked, do you know the man in the blue shirt

outside? Jessica and I glanced out the window. Less than 20 feet away, the creepy man was standing there, staring straight at us. When he realized we were looking, he spun around and quickly left the library. My stomach dropped.

Oh, God, no, I stammered. We don't know him. The librarian nodded gravely. Well, someone has filed a complaint that he's been looking at teenage girls. We've noticed him watching you. That word, watching, sent shivers down my spine. There's a big difference between someone looking and someone watching. One is casual, the other is deliberate, obsessive. I told the librarian about the day before how the man at the computer had warned us. She listened carefully, then reassured us.

We're keeping an eye on him, but in the meantime, it would be better if you had a parent. or another adult nearby. We nodded, still stunned, and left her office. As we walked back to our seats, I asked Jessica, are you okay? She gave a half shrug. Yeah, are you? I chuckled nervously. Yeah, I guess. But inside, I was anything but fine. Later, Jessica admitted she'd been very aware of him watching us, more than I had realized. Apparently, he'd been hanging around the library for over a year, and she'd seen him before. That revelation unsettled me more than anything else. This wasn't just a random encounter. He was a regular. The manga section incident. I wish I could say that was the end of it, but there was one more encounter that seared into my memory. It might have been the same week,

I can't quite remember. I was at the library again with Jessica and Annie. We were in the manga section, sitting on the floor in front of the shelves. Annie sat cross-legged facing the books. Jessica was kneeling beside her, also facing the shelves. I was at the end of the row in a spot that gave me a perfect line of sight to the small space behind us. And that's when it happened. I looked up and there he was. The man, standing right behind the shelf, his eyes locked on Annie, but not just on her, on her crotch. He was staring through the narrow gap between the books, his gaze laser-focused, predatory. And here's the detail that made my blood run cold.

His eyes were red. Not just bloodshot, the whites of his eyes were completely red, like something out of a nightmare. I swear on everything, I am not exaggerating this. Instant panic surged through me. My stomach twisted into knots. beside me, Jessica noticed too, and without a word, we both urged Annie to stand up and move. We casually guided her over to the computer area, trying not to make it obvious. The man lingered for a minute or two longer, then left.

When we told Annie what we'd seen, she went pale. Thomas happened to be sitting at that computer, and when my mom came to pick us up later, we insisted Annie stake glued to Thomas's side until her own mom arrived. We didn't trust that man not to circle back. Sure enough, as we walked out onto the main street, there he was, heading back toward the library. Jessica and I freaked out silently, texting Annie warnings until we knew she was safely home. That was the last time we ever saw him. Reflection. At the time, I didn't tell my mom.

I was afraid she'd ban me from going to the library after school, and the library was my safe place, hangout spot. Now, years later, I see how ridiculous that was. I didn't recognize the seriousness of the situation. This wasn't just some harmless weirdo. It was a man deliberately stalking and praying on young girls. I never told my parents or my brother Thomas. Maybe out of embarrassment, maybe out of fear they'd overreact, maybe because part of me wanted to bury the memory. But as I write this now, I know I should tell them. they deserve to know. Because there's always a reason to be cautious.

There's always a reason to trust that gut feeling when...