Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Creepy Encounters on Farms and Ranches Terrifying Stories of Dangerous Strangers PART2 #47

Episode Date: October 13, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #farmhorrorstories #ranchhorrorstories #dangerousstrangers #creepyencounters #realhorrorstories  Part 2 dives deeper into eerie and threatening encounters in isolated areas. From strangers lurking around barns and fields to tense confrontations, these real-life stories showcase how vulnerable people can be in rural environments. Each tale emphasizes the unpredictability and fear that comes with being alone in seemingly safe countryside locations.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, farmhorrorstories, ranchhorrorstories, dangerousstrangers, creepyencounters, realhorrorstories, unsettlingstories, frighteningexperiences, nightmarefuel, survivalstories, fearstories, darktales, shockingencounters, realcreepystories, ruralhorror

Horror. Number two, the ranch from hell. Okay, so let me back up and set the scene a little bit. I was 19 when I got married, which is already kind of wild when I think back on it now. 19. Like, who actually knows what they're doing at 19? You're barely out of high school, you can't even legally drink everywhere in the States, and suddenly I had a husband, bills, and this whole grown-up life staring me in the face. My husband and I, bless our hearts had no real plan. We'd both dropped out of college thinking we'd figure it out later. We were living in this tiny studio apartment that cost way too much for what it was. One of those places where you can stand in the kitchen, touch the bathroom door with one hand, and the bed with

the other. It was cramped, overpriced, and honestly depressing. We used to joke that if we didn't leave, we'd end up suffocating each other in there. So, one night, while eating cheap takeout on the floor, because we didn't even own a proper dining table, we started talking about our lives. And you know how when you're young, every problem somehow turns into a reason to go on an adventure? That's exactly what happened. Instead of being responsible, getting jobs, and saving up, we were like, hey, what if we just took off? We figured this was the perfect time to travel, to see the world, whatever that meant, and to have some kind of adventure before we got too tied down. And then came the ad.

We were scrolling through random sites online, half looking for jobs, half looking for inspiration, when we stumbled across this post that looked almost too good to be true. Some guy was looking for workers to help on his horse ranch. In exchange, he'd give you food and a place to stay. No rent, no bills, just work for your keep. Honestly, it sounded perfect, exactly what we needed. The ad wasn't just some shady two-sentence Craigslist. thing either. It was detailed. He talked about how he had built the place himself, how he was

skilled in all kinds of trades, woodworking, welding, even building machinery, and that he'd be willing to teach us. And let me tell you, for broke 19-year-olds who had no real-life skills beyond flipping burgers and writing half-assed essays, that sounded like the opportunity of a lifetime. The photos he posted made it even more convincing. The ranch looked straight out of a postcard, a big log cabin he claimed to have built himself, wide open fields, horses grazing in the distance. Inside the cabin was a huge living room, a cozy looking kitchen, and this spacious bedroom that apparently be ours. Plus, in every photo, there were people. Groups of smiling workers, families eating meals together, even what looked like parties or bonfires at night. He made it

sound like this big communal experience, like a chance to work hard, learn new stuff. skills and make lifelong friends. And if that wasn't enough, the way he wrote his email sealed the deal. He always referred to himself as we, like there was a whole group running the ranch. We look forward to meeting you. We are excited to teach you. It never felt like one old man. It felt like a community. That gave us this extra level of comfort, because in our minds we thought, okay, we're not just going to live with some random guy in the middle of nowhere, we're joining a group of So yeah, we were sold. We booked our flight. And that's where the story goes downhill. Because when we showed up, ready to meet this whole crew of ranchers, there was no crew. There were no other workers,

no groups of smiling people, no one at all. Just him. He was in his 60s, though to be fair, he was surprisingly fit and sharp for his age. Mentally and physically, he was quick. But it was just him. No we, no community, just one man in a big cabin in the middle of nowhere. From the very start, things felt off. The first thing he said to us, literally within minutes of meeting, was, I never judge people based on their past. Do you believe people can change? Because I do. Now, maybe that sounds harmless written down, but the way he said it, it was unnerving. Imagine meeting someone for the first time, and instead of small talk or

welcoming you, they drop something heavy like that. It felt rehearsed, like a line he always used. And I remember standing there with my suitcase thinking, uh, why are you bringing up the past right now? Still, we tried to brush it off. We wanted this to work. We were young, naive, desperate for something new. He drove us into town to get groceries and told us to pick out whatever we wanted. On the surface, it seemed generous, but there was something forced about it. it. Like he wanted to prove how kind and generous he was, but it came off fake, overly nice in a way that put my guard up. And then the weird stuff started stacking up. For one, the house was strange. He had built it himself, and while it looked nice, there were some creepy details. His bedroom

had the only upstairs bathroom attached to it, and it didn't lock from the inside. That meant if you had to pee in the middle of the night, you had to creep through his bedroom while he was sleeping. He acted like it was no big deal, but it was the opposite of normal. Then there was his room itself. Sometimes he'd invite us in. Again, weird, and on the table was this old school video camera with like 30 little tapes just lying around. He never explained what they were, but he'd casually bring up how much he loved the Japanese and how he had marketed his ranch to them He'd mentioned Japanese women staying there before, almost bragging about it, but in a way that made me feel uncomfortable.

He also kept dropping weird hints about how people who had stayed with him before had left suddenly, always unexpectedly, like he couldn't understand why they would leave. The creepiest thing happened about a week in. He told us to get in his truck because we were going to the city. Now, we were deep in the countryside, so the drive was long. He was excited, almost giddy, which made me nervous before we even knew what was going on. Then he dropped it on us. He wanted us to walk around the city and approach young people, especially young women,

and invite them back to the ranch to work. Like, what? He expected two socially awkward introverts to wander around, tapping random strangers on the shoulder, and say, Hey, want to come live with us on a horse ranch run by some 60-year-old man you've never met? It was insane. We refused, of course. It made us super uncomfortable. That's when his whole personality shifted. At first, he'd been this overly kind, welcoming guy, but when we pushed back,

the mask slipped. He got angry, defensive, his friendliness turned into sharp remarks and this temperamental, aggressive vibe. It didn't take long before I couldn't stand him. He wasn't just weird anymore. He was unbearable. Socially inept, always saying inappropriate things, and worst of all, he made it very clear he didn't see women as equals. And this was a strong

man, military-trained, muscular, always scheming in his head. He wasn't someone you'd want to get on the wrong side of. Now, our parents had already been skeptical before we even left. They warned us. They thought the whole idea of flying across

the country to live with some strange, danger in the woods was dangerous. But we thought we'd done our homework. We thought everything looked legitimate. What we didn't do, which still makes me cringe to this day, is we didn't Google his name. Not once. Until my mom did. One morning I checked my email and saw a message from her with like 10 exclamation marks in the subject line. She had Googled him and found his arrest record. He had strangled and sexually assaulted a young woman. Not only that, but there were actual warnings online. Headlines saying, do not go to this ranch. This man is dangerous. My stomach dropped. Suddenly, all the weird stuff, the bathroom, the tapes, the comments about Japanese women,

the sudden departures of past guests, it all clicked. This guy wasn't just socially awkward. He was dangerous. We knew we had to leave. But That brought up the scariest part. How do you tell a man like that you're leaving? By then, he had started fantasizing out loud about us staying permanently. He'd talk about us raising kids there, celebrating Christmases together, building a whole life on the ranch. Meanwhile, in our minds, this was always supposed to be temporary. We had families back home, lives waiting for us.

But he seemed to be living in some fantasy world where we belong to him. So, I lied. I made up some emergency back home, told him we had to leave immediately. But the way he looked at me when I said it, I'll never forget it. It was like he already knew, like he had been waiting for me to lie. His face went blank, his voice flat, monotone. He asked, when do you need to go to the airport? I said, right now.

And just like that, he switched back to his friendly persona, drove us there, and told us if we ever wanted to come back, he'd buy our tickets some stuff. We left and we never looked back. But here's the thing. Years later, I googled him again. Not only was he still running the ranch, but there were forums, whole threads of people sharing their experiences. And every single one of them was eerily similar. They all mentioned how he said, don't judge people on their past. They all talked about the grocery trip, the bathroom door, the tapes. Some of them even admitted to watching the tapes and finding disturbing. footage, Japanese girls flexing their arms, searches full of Japanese porn. Others described weird

rituals in the woods, full moon ceremonies and chalk circles, couples just like us being driven into the city and asked to recruit thin young women. And the worst part, he's still out there, still operational. Police never had enough evidence to put him away. We got away lucky, less weirdness than others, probably because I wasn't his type, and maybe because he was wary of my husband. But every so often, when I think about that ranch, I wonder, what if we had stayed? To be continued.