Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - How a Family Cruise Turned Into a Chilling Encounter with Suspected Child Traffickers #56

Episode Date: July 26, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales  #childtrafficking #familyhorror #cruiseescape #darkencounter #survivorstories  “How a Family Cruise Turned Into a Chilling Encounter with Suspected Child Traffickers”What began as a joyful family vacation quickly spiraled into a terrifying ordeal when they crossed paths with suspected child traffickers aboard the cruise ship. Faced with danger in an unfamiliar environment, the family’s instincts and courage were tested to the limit. This harrowing true story sheds light on the hidden dangers of trafficking and the strength of a family fighting to protect their own. A gripping tale of survival, vigilance, and hope amidst horror.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales,  childtraffickinghorror, familyescape, cruisehorrorstory, survivorstrength, darktruth,  fightforsurvival, vigilanceandhope, horrortruecrime, protectionandcourage, nightmarevacation,  harrowingexperience, traffickingsurvivor, familybondhorror, realhorrorstories,  dangeratsea

There's so much rugby on Sports Extra 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. Jampact 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 hsec.i. Forward slash cervical check. But in your PPS number, shake 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 are hsccccc. i.e. 4 slash cervical check.

I am nothing like a medical professional. I'm not a first responder. But twice in the last 36 hours, I've either been in the right place at the right time or the wrong place at the wrong time. Today's is the first shooting I've ever witnessed firsthand. First time I've provided that type of aid. I know it's a privilege to have gotten this far in life

without that experience, but I have. But T.L. I kind of puked up the story later this evening, thinking if I didn't get it out of my head at least a little, it would just start flying out when I didn't want it to. Below is what I wrote, I don't really feel like talking about this right now. I've got some Velvita Mac and cheese waiting for me back at the hotel, but I decided to treat myself.

I'm in a British pub awaiting a comforting meal. And a filthy martini. But I want to do this right now because I think I will forget and because I don't really want it floating around in my head trying to get out. It feels like rather brutal irony that this incident began immediately following a phone call with my mom in which I shared with her an incident that happened Wednesday night. Today is Thursday. Wednesday I was in the same parking lot in the same parking spot in my van when a domestic violence incident started spilling out of a hotel room across the courtyard. Many details later, the child and woman were sheltered in my van until police could come.

I made sure they had water and food. made a statement to police. More than a half-dozen people were watching and taking video. I was the only one who stayed after the abuser left, very nearly running me down with his car. With zero context in this story, much too much to tell, I have quite involuntarily been stripped of virtually everything I had or knew for the last three decades, including any sense of self-identity. So I was telling my mom today what I thought was pretty happy news, that stripped of everything,

by myself, in a completely foreign environment, I walked into a situation I knew was patently dangerous, and I was the only person among many who did. So I told her, I can now look in hindsight and see clearly that I am a person who will help a stranger, even when there is danger to myself. And I feel pretty good about that. I think that's a characteristic to be proud of. We chatted for quite a while. Within two minutes of hanging up the phone, as I was reaching to open my door, the shooting began. I didn't recognize the first shot as a gunshot. It's been a long time since I've been that close to one, and it was a courtyard, surrounded on four sides. The acoustics were crazy and it sounded to me like somebody had dropped an entire dumpster. I looked around, I didn't see anything.

Then the second shot came, and I understood they were gunshots and I ducked. I put my head down as flat as I could in my van. Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, really fast. Then I thought quiet, but not really. I could hear the victim. Still not sure, I can't come up with the right vocabulary, but he was not whimpering. He was not yelling. He was quietly doing what he could in between. He had no breath. I grabbed my phone and started toward him. I looked to my right and could see the shooter running away. I brought up my camera and took a shot, unable to actually see what I was capturing. I did this while running backwards toward the man on the ground. The shooter looked briefly back over his shoulder, he was another young man I would have put near

20. Little taller than average maybe a dark-skinned black man. No way on earth that could have made out his face from that distance, just as clothing. He didn't flash any gang signs or call out anything to or about the guy who'd been shot. As he ran away, he looked back that once, and we looked each other in the eyes. He honestly looked scared shitless. He turned back forward and kept running. I turned back toward Leo and dialed 911. That began my time on hold. The man is a young Latino. Everyone seems young to me at my age, but I think he might have been close to 20. He had a little 5 o'clock shadow in patchwork around his jaw. Dark black hair.

I'm honestly not sure why I thought it was curly because he was wearing a baseball cap throughout. I think I was in the moment conflating that incident with last nights, where the abuser had thick black curly hair on top and short on the sides. He was wearing a thick jacket I associate with construction workers, kind of dark tan slash gold, looking like it had been worked in for some time, and with a wide brass zipper whose teeth had come apart making a gap over his belly. His hands were dirty like he had been working. They were rough and calloused.

He had lightweight nylon, black sport-type pants. I don't think I remember his shoes without looking at a picture. I have one. I have two shots actually, him on the gurney, just after they placed him on it. He's pretty handsome or will be when he gets a little bit older, I think. There's so much rugby on Sports Extra 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 hsse.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. 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 it today are hsccccc. i.e. 4 slash cervical check. Think, and then I think I really want him to get older. Como Sih Lama? I ask. Leo, I think I hear. I feel lucky to even know his name, and could honestly be wrong about it,

but when I asked him, that's what I thought I understood. It was the last moment he retained any consciousness. He was unresponsive after that, rolling his eyes into the back of his head, struggling to breathe. At first, it just looked difficult for him to breathe, then not very much later he was gulping at air like a fish out of water, still unconscious. I looked around and couldn't see a single other human being. I started screaming at the top of my lungs, help. Help. Is there a doctor? Doctora. Doctora. Iota me. Nothing. A black oversized pickup truck started down the alleyie toward us.

two people in it. I kept my right hand on Leo and waved my left arm as broadly as I could at them, yelling for help. They pulled into the other side of the parking lot and I don't recall seeing them again. I didn't have enough Spanish to say much, so all I could really say was, I'm Christie stay with me. Soy Christi. Conmigo, Leo, conmigo. Acqui, Acqui conmigo. I held his left hand in my right. He had no ability to grasp. So I just squeezed his hand as I talked to him, shouted at him, and lifted his forearm gently up and down as I called to him, with my fingers interlocked with his, padded his face-checked that he was breathing.

An even younger couple walked by, both of whom seemed monolingual in Spanish, they were speaking to each other in Spanish and did not reply to me when I spoke in English. The young woman expressed concern and dismay, and stopped for a moment, leaning over Leo, while her partner kept going. She got up to follow him, and I pleaded with her to stay. No hablo Espanol. Poor favor, Iota me. Dice poor Migo.

Dice a Leo. Poor favor. And bless her she did. I have no idea what she said to him, but heard more con Migo's so felt a little relief that I was at least saying something he might recognize. She was Latina, long black hair in a pony tail. flowered pull over top with a V-neck and a look of grave concern on a clear, narrow oval face. I'm not very good at this anymore, but I'd say she was about 18. I couldn't tell you what her partner looked like.

He was gone too fast. And my eyes were riveted to Leo. It felt like at least 15 minutes, but I've checked my phone just now, and it was only six minutes I was on hold. I gave the dispatcher my location right away said there's been a shooting, that I have a victim on the ground bleeding, please send EMS to XXXXX right now. I just wrote that I said that, but I was pretty much yelling it

because I was already yelling to get through to Leo. Every time his eyes started to close versus staying at half-mast, I squeezed harder, yelled louder, and it did seem to help him try to stay with me. His eyes would flutter half open again for a few seconds, he would moan, then we'd start it over again. I was honestly worried to do anything but be with him because I thought he was shot in the back and I was worried about a spinal injury, but dispatch reminded me that you have to stop the bleeding first in any case. I felt my heart sink.

I knew that. Somewhere in the back of my mind. I heard it on NPR. I was mortified that I had continued to let him bleed for six minutes. I rolled him over toward me as quickly as I could, onto my coat on the ground. I pulled up his shirt to see if there was damage to his back, I could only see the lower half of his back and didn't see any injuries. I could see blood on his pants leg in two different places.

I pulled his pants down in a portion of his underwear, which was like a kaleidoscope of animation, so bright and colorful, but now covered in blood. I reported to the dispatcher that I could see two bullet holes, one below his left buttocks, one in his left calf. I don't know if there were any more, but that's what I saw. I've never actually seen a gunshot wound before. Plenty of times on television in my half a century on the planet, but not in my own experience. They were a lot bigger than I expected, which I'm sure has to do with caliber, but my goodness.

Big deep holes with no exit wounds. Ousing blood. That actually felt positive to me, TV taught me that a shot to the femoral artery would have blood squirting. I pressed my left hand down on his buttock injury and looked to my left to reach for the other injury, and a lanky white guy with a beard appeared there, out of nowhere as far as I was concerned, because I was so wholly focused on Leo, and he applied pressure to the calf while I did to his other wound and continued to talk with dispatch until EMS was fully engaged, as instructed. As I was waiting for EMS and pressing the wound, a young blonde woman across the street,

at the end of the alley, shouted that she had already called 911 and that they were on their way, which was brilliant news. Again, it seemed longer, but it was probably only five minutes that I had to apply pressure before the EMTs showed up. When I first showed up beside Leo, I got on my knees like anyone would. I've had Osgood Schlatter's disease and so was balanced precariously and painfully on two small bony protrusions on my knees. I was at risk of falling over. They are hard to balance on. Stood that pain for a while and then realized I didn't think I could do chest compressions if I had to while kneeling that way. I had taken off my coat preparing to add pressure, so I shoved it under my knees and kept going.

When I rolled Leo over, he was 100% on my coat and when the EMTs got there, I had to pull it out from under him. My left hand up my wrist and onto my Michigan Women's Music Festival 25th Anniversary sweatshirt were full of Leo's blood. I had much less on my right hand because I had been trying to use that for the phone. But my phone also had a significant amount of blood, as I had to pass it hand to hand to keep doing what I was doing. By now there are at least three or four police SUVs in the parking lot, someone points me out as a witness and they want to talk to me and I tell them yes but I must sit down. My pot starts flaring in an episode. Got a little brain fog. Pain in my legs and arms.

and my legs are so weak from both the pots and the trauma, the stress, I don't think I can stand much longer. I wobbled to the driver's side door. Takes me almost a minute to drag myself into my van chair because I'm so weak. A uniformed officer comes and asks me what I saw, what happened. I tell him all of this. I let him know I have a picture of the shooter running away and have him text it to himself. I don't know how long I sat there, shaking, trying to control my breathing. I was in the driver's seat, but turned 45 degrees with my feet on the outside step. The police cordoned off virtually all of the space near me, including tape that was literally touching the back of my van. They strung crime scene do not cross tape across the door that

I was coming and going from on the second floor so as to avoid both the climb and the potentially toxic elevator. Next, I saw a woman in street clothes coming out that very door. I threw my hands out like the Supremes and loudly said, stop. No, that's a crime scene. Please don't walk there. She laughed at me kindly, flashed me the badge that was hanging around her neck with a smile and came over. Her name was Tanna. None of the officers, by the way, introduced themselves. I just put out my hand to shake and say, said, hi. Early Shelter. That that's how I got to know their names. Tanna had me recount the whole story, asked if I had given a written statement, no, and I handed her my phone to text

the photo to herself. She said next step would be to have a formal interview on camera, so I should stick around. I held my hand out to her. None of my skin was visible under the blood. I was thoroughly coated, and it was drying sticky. I asked her, and I asked her, if I could go wash it off. She immediately offered me some wipes, but I shook my head. I told her I'm allergic to the world, that's why I'm here to see an immunologist. Can't use your wipes I need water. Do you have a bottle of water I asked? No, she didn't. Had to walk the entire circumference around the hotel, up a short flight of stairs, up a longer flight to a landing and then another flight. I thought I was going to keel right over.

I'm trying to drag myself up the banister with my arms, but they didn't have much more blood than my legs did once I started pulling. I got to my room and started washing my hands into the basin and thought quite clearly, I've never seen this in person before. You only see shit like this on TV. But there I am watching blood swirl down the drain, scrubbing with my other hand as hard as I could to get it off, entirely understanding, out damn spot, for the first time.

Not the guilt, of course, but the frustration of trying to get it off, get it all off. It was sticky in places, entirely dry in others. It's harder to get off than you might think, certainly harder than I would have thought. I called my mom while I was washing. I told her what was going on. I said how shaken I was. That I just wanted to talk out loud to somebody about what was going. on. She was sympathetic, worried about my safety. I thank her, then had to hang up and go back to

talk with the detectives. I walked the long way back again. Asked an officer if I was still needed, and he said yes. He came back a moment later to say they'd like to take you downtown for a formal statement. My voice was instantly pleading. I'm here for a medical appointment, that's the only reason I am in town. I have allergy testing. patches on my back right now and if they are not red today, it will invalidate the entire test. I've spent hundreds of dollars to be here and I'm indigent. I am going to try and reschedule that but I really need to get to an appointment today. Plus, I'm here because I'm allergic to the world. If I walk into your precinct and even one person is wearing perfume or cologne, I'm going to

choke, gag, cry, and cough, and I won't be able to give you any information. I won't be gone more than 90 and promise to come back. I'm staying here. He told me the detectives would make that decision, that they outrank him. No, I don't think they will, I thought. I reminded him my contribution is voluntary. He said, yep, and left.

I was on hold for 20-odd minutes with National Jewish, I had a complicated request, but ultimately was able to reschedule my appointment for a couple hours later. I left my van again to use the restroom, again walking the full route and got a call just before I was walking back from the detective from the evening prior. He needed to take a formal statement. Couldn't help it. I laughed out loud for some time. I told him sure, I'm waiting to give a statement to another detective downstairs

right now. Come on by. It's a party. I went back to the van, texted with my mom a little bit, texted my sister friend A and my newer friend T, trying to do some kind of brain dump in the moment to help me calm down. Finally, a detective named Steve, I know because I introduced myself, came and asked me if I had made a statement to anyone. Yes, several times but not on camera. He said okay and asked me to describe what I had seen. I gave him a few details and I think he saw me looking at him a little crooked because he pointed to his belt and said, I do have my camera activated so this is all being recorded right now. I said, cool. I was thinking, perhaps you had an idetic memory.

So, this was my formal interview on camera. I was not going downtown and it looked like I was going to make my rescheduled appointment at National Jewish. Excellent. Not that I was really feeling up for that appointment. My hands were shaking. My knees were literally knocking if I held my legs together. I kept making deep sighs to loosen up my chest. Physically, I was okay.

Mentally, it was a lot harder than dealing with the domestic violence situation the night before. I've had DV experience too many times. First myself, then later as a person who counseled women and children in a DV shelter. I know it's one of the most dangerous situations a law enforcement officer might walk into. I know that like I know that gravity exists, and I walked right into it anyway. I was rather strangely calm throughout that entire episode. Was it upsetting?

Yes. Did it leave me shaking for hours? No, it didn't. It made me introspective rather than feeling PTSD. But today, there is a reason I am talking this all out all by myself right now. I am still shaking. I've never seen or felt or heard or smelled or touched anything like that in my life. When I was screaming at the top of my lungs all alone, it was terrifying.

And you bet it felt traumatic. I'm going to see that boy's face in my head for a long time. I'm going to watch that blood rush down the white sink. I'm going to randomly get a whiff of what happened. But I hope to work through it enough that none of those things become an illness for me. I am hoping that if I call tomorrow, they would at least tell me if he was alive or not. There's Absolutely no way he would ever remember I was even there. That's good. But yeah, I'll be remembering this for a very long time. Hours later, it's on the news tonight. Leo died. Fox News ran a video piece on it, which was tape recorded somewhere else entirely. Among other things, it showed members of the military in full garb, faces masked, eyes behind

sunglasses, holding automatic rifles. None of that happened. Their video was not of this place. Not at this time. An honest to God bit of unverifiable propaganda to scare the shit out of people. Yes, we need the militarization of our police in order to combat the violence here in X-XXX. Bullshit, my friends. I am fairly sure I am preaching to the choir, but I would like to tell you firsthand their reporting is bullshit. The end.