Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Halloween Nightmares Witchcraft, Stalkers, Haunted Houses, and Paranormal Encounters PART4 #68

Episode Date: September 26, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #witchcrafthorrors #stalkingstories #hauntedhouses #paranormalencounters #halloweenterrors  "Halloween Nightmares: Witchcraft, Stalkers, Haunted Houses, and Paranormal Encounters – PART 4" intensifies the terror with new true stories from survivors who faced dark witchcraft, relentless stalkers, haunted homes, and spine-chilling paranormal events. These Halloween tales expose the sinister side of the holiday, revealing horrors that haunt long after the night ends.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, witchcrafttales, stalkingencounters, hauntedhousehorrors, paranormalstories, halloweenhorrors, darkrituals, eerieencounters, spookytrueevents, nightterrors, chillingstories, ghostlytales, sinisterevents, hauntingmemories, supernaturalterror

My beer had gone warm on the side table, my hands still curled around a can like it was part of me. I winced as I unwrapped my fingers, it felt like they'd fused together. Something had yanked me out of sleep, but I couldn't say what. The TV was still droning in the background, some late-night infomercial nonsense blaring with overly excited voices and flickering lights. The kind of white noise that's more annoying than comforting. Maybe it was just some high schoolers messing around after a Halloween. party, making too much noise out on the street. I glanced at the clock, past midnight. Great. I sighed, half-pissed at being awake. At least I'd had the foresight to install a few basic

security measures. Nothing fancy, just a motion-detecting light and a decent camera pointed at the front lawn. I figured it was better than nothing, you know. I was debating whether to clean up the spilled beer or just let future me deal with it when a loud knock at the door cut through the silence like a blade. The ken slipped from my fingers, hit the floor, and splattered warm beer across my sweatpants. I stared at the mess for a second, stunned, barely able to think, let alone curse. Then the knocking came again. Louder. More urgent. Not polite knocking either, impatient, uneven, like someone tapping out a warning more than a request. I shuffled toward the door, trying not to slip on the beer now soaking into the carpet. I peaked out the

side window, expecting maybe some drunk neighbor needing a ride or a lost trick or treater. But there was nothing, just the reflection of my own dumb face in the glass. It was pitch black outside. The porch light hadn't come on. Weird. The sensor usually worked fine. Maybe it was just a branch hitting the siding, or a raccoon, or something equally mundane. But the knocking had sounded too deliberate for that. I didn't want to open the door, but the longer I stood there, the more it felt like the house itself was holding its breath. The people stared back at me like an eye, round, unblinking, and full of something I couldn't name. I swallowed hard, my throat like sandpaper. The beer on the floor suddenly looked tempting. I said out loud,

to no one, it's nothing. Hoping that saying it would make it true. Hoping that my own voice could ground me. Spoiler alert, it didn't. I opened the door. The porch light flared to life, almost blinding me. I squinted through the sudden brightness, blinking away the afterimages, and saw them. Two kids. Or, what looked like kids. Must have been nine or ten, tops. Both draped in classic white-cheek ghost costumes, holes cut out for the eyes. It was almost too perfect. Like a scene from some black and white Halloween special. They stood absolutely still. Silent. Baskets in hand, the kind you get at a dollar store. A boy and a girl, I guessed, based on height. Trick or treat, they said in unison. At least, I think they said it.

The words didn't match their mouths. The sound came from somewhere far off, echoy and wrong, like a recording played through a busted speaker in a tunnel. It didn't sound like two voices, it sounded like many, layered together. A chorus of children saying the same thing from a great distance. I didn't like it. Not one bit. But I kept it together. Uh, yeah, sure, a treat, I guess. I just wanted them gone. The whole thing was off. The way they stood, the sound of their voices, the weird timing of everything. It felt like I'd bitten into fruit that looked fine but turned to mush in my mouth. My brain tried to tell me it was just Halloween, just kids with clever costumes. But my gut knew better. My gut was screaming. I turned and grabbed the candy bowl off the counter

where I'd left it earlier. I half hoped they'd be gone when I came back. Maybe they'd disappear like a weird dream. But nope. Still there. Still silent. Still wrong. They raised their baskets. I leaned forward, about to drop the candy in, when I noticed something. Their hands were weren't, right. The baskets weren't held by little kid hands. They looked like mannequin hands. Smooth. Plastic. Shiny. Like something off a department store dummy. I froze. Maybe it was part of the costume. Maybe it was gloves. Maybe it was all a prank. A really, really elaborate prank. I convinced myself, tried to, anyway, that they were just two tech-savvy kids with creepy costumes and some voice modulator trick. Maybe their parents were filming from the bushes, waiting to

upload the reaction to YouTube for a few likes. I laughed nervously, said, stay safe out there, and dumped the rest of the candy into their baskets. They didn't say thanks. Didn't move. Didn't blink. They just stood there on the creaky old boards of my porch like they were nailed in place. I shut the door. As soon as the door closed, the porch light clicked off, plunging everything into darkness. My heart was thumping so loud I could hear it in my ears. I stood there, hand on the knob, trying to listen for footsteps. Anything.

Then I heard them. Footsteps. Soft. Barely there. Leaving the porch. Except the motion light didn't come back on. That didn't sit right. The light had turned on when I opened the door.

So it worked. It was working. But it didn't turn back on when they left. I tried to brush it off, but my brain was running wild. The lights work by detecting heat. Motion too, yeah, but mostly heat. So, did those things not give off body? heat. I shivered. My spine turned to ice. I felt like I just stepped into a freezer. My hand was

trembling as I reached for the curtain. I had to look. I had to see where they went. But part of me didn't want to. Part of me begged me to go back to the couch, crack open another beer, and forget the whole thing. Just forget. Pretend. Lie to myself. I peaked. They were standing at the end of the driveway. Still. Facing my house. Just standing there. I closed the curtain.

I turned off every light in the house. Locked the doors again. Sat in the dark, gripping a kitchen knife in one hand and the TV remote in the other. I tried watching some dumb sitcom rerun to calm my nerves, but nothing helped. My mouth was dry. My palms were sweating. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was still being watched. Eventually, I dozed off or passed out.

I don't know which. When I woke up, sunlight was pouring in through the blinds, and everything looked normal. Peaceful. Too peaceful. I went outside. The porch was empty. No sign of the kids. No footprints.

Not even a candy wrapper. Just my beer can on the floor, half-crushed, and the sticky stain of spilled beer on the carpet. I checked the security footage. The motion detector had triggered when I opened the door. You could see the kids on the porch. Their costumes, their stillness. Then, when I shut the door, the footage glitched. Just for a second.

And when it came back, the porch was empty. No sign of them walking away. No fade out. No footsteps. One frame they were there. The next. Gone. I've watched that footage a dozen times. Showed it to a buddy who works in IT. He says it looks like tampering. Like someone deliberately edited the feed. But I didn't. And no one else had access. I don't know what those things were. Ghosts? Aliens? Some kids playing the world's creepiest prank. I don't know. But I do know this. They weren't human.

And I don't hand out candy anymore. Every Halloween now, I leave town. I pack a bag and drive three hours to a hotel with too much light and too many people. I get a room on the third floor. No porch. No Knox. No kids. It's probably nothing. Probably just one really weird night. But I'm not taking any chances. Not ever again. To be continued.