Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Shadows of the Past A Chilling Tale of Fear, Mystery, and Paranormal Encounters PART1 #57

Episode Date: October 15, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #paranormalencounters #hauntedstories #supernaturalfear #mysteryhorror #realhorrorstories  Part 1 explores unsettling experiences where the past seems to reach into the present. From eerie noises and shadowy figures to unexplained activity in familiar locations, these true accounts highlight the psychological and supernatural terror that leaves lasting impressions on those who lived through them.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, paranormalencounters, hauntedstories, supernaturalfear, mysteryhorror, realhorrorstories, unsettlingstories, frighteningexperiences, nightmarefuel, darktales, terrifyingencounters, fearstories, survivalstories, shockingencounters, realcreepystories

Horror, the Night Walk and Other Close Calls. The story I'm about to tell takes me right back to the strangest year of my life, 2020. Yeah, that year. The year when everyone's routines broke apart, when the streets felt like ghost towns, when you'd see neighbors with masks and wonder if you'd ever shake hands with strangers again. At the time, I wasn't exactly in the best shape of my life. I've always carried a little extra weight, and honestly, I leaned more toward laziness than fitness. But with the pandemic hitting hard, and everything shutting down, I figured, hey, nobody's on the roads,

maybe I should finally start walking. Now, my neighborhood has this nice little loop. If you start at one end and walk all the way around, by the time you get back to where you started, you've knocked out a solid mile. Not too shabby for someone who got winded going up a flight of stairs. So I made it a routine. Every evening, I'd lace up my old sneakers, toss on some headphones, and walk that loop. Sometimes I'd bring a bottle of water, sometimes not. At first, I thought I'd be the only soul wandering around,

but pretty soon I noticed I wasn't alone. There was this sweet, older couple who seemed to time their walks around the same schedule as mine. They weren't flashy or loud, just your typical down-to-earth pair who enjoyed each other's company. the kind of people you wave to without even realizing you're smiling. We'd stop and chat here and there, nothing deep, just the kind of small talk that feels comforting

when the rest of the world feels upside down. Nice weather tonight, or looks like the leaves are starting to change, or, boy, the air feels fresher without all those cars out, stuff like that. Eventually, I started looking forward to seeing them. Walking alone is fine, but when you know you'll bump into a couple of friendly faces, halfway through, it makes you want to get out the door faster. That's how it was for me, half exercise, half social time. But one day, they were just gone. No explanation, no wave across the

street, no cheerful hello. At first, I figured maybe they changed their walking schedule, maybe morning suited them better now, or maybe they didn't feel like going out that day. But as the weeks went by, their absence became impossible to ignore. And their house, it started to look wrong. Grass that had always been neatly trimmed was suddenly tall and scraggly. The hedges grew wild like nobody had touched them in months. Parts of the siding on their house peeled away, and one of the shutters hung loose. It wasn't just a missed weekend of yard work, it was straight up neglect. My curiosity got the better of me. Every time I walked by, I found myself slowing down, staring at that house, wondering what had happened. Eventually, I started knocking on the door

whenever I passed. Not hard, just a polite knock, the kind you do when you're not sure if you want an answer. But there was never any reply. Weeks went by like this, until one particular night when my whole routine changed. I had been busy earlier in the day. I had been busy earlier in the day. so I missed my usual evening walk. No big deal, I thought, I'll just go later. Around 10 o'clock, I grabbed a flashlight, pulled on a hoodie, and set out into the quiet streets. It was peaceful in that eerie way only nighttime during lockdown could be. Not a single car in sight, not even the hum of distant traffic.

Just me, the sound of my footsteps, and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. As I rounded the loop and approached the couple's house, something caught. my eye. Their front door. Wide open. Now, I know what you're thinking. Smart move would have been to keep walking, mind my business. But I've always been nosy. Curiosity doesn't just kill cats. It almost got me killed too. I walked up their driveway, shining my flashlight ahead and called out. Uh, hello? Anyone home? Nothing. Just silence. I stood there for a moment debating what to do, when suddenly I heard it, the sound of a floorboard creaking, coming from inside. My chest tightened, my hand shook as I raised the flashlight, its beam cutting through the

darkness of the entryway. That's when I saw him. A man, tall, rough-looking, unshaven, with this wide, unsettling grin stretched across his face, just standing there, watching me. I froze. My heart dropped. into my stomach. Before I could even process what I was seeing, he lunged at me. Now, remember how I said I was overweight? Yeah, this was not the time to test my speed. I bolted as best I could, my flashlight bouncing wildly, lungs burning, legs screaming at me to stop. I could hear his footsteps pounding behind me, getting closer. And I swear if it hadn't been for the sudden headlights of a passing car, I would have been caught. The man stopped, spun around, and sprinted back inside. I didn't dare look back

until I was far enough away to catch my breath. Then I pulled out my phone and called the police with shaking hands. When they arrived, they stormed the house. And guess what? The man was still there, standing in the exact same spot I had first seen him, like some nightmare frozen in time. Later, the truth came out. He confessed, not just to chasing me, but to murdering the couple who lived there, murdering them, burying their bodies in the backyard, even torturing them before it was over. That night, when I stumbled in, he had been checking the graves to make sure the heavy rain hadn't unearthed them. The police dug up the yard, found the bodies, and bulldozed the house not long after. The man tried to play the insanity card in court, but the judge didn't buy it. Two life

sentences without parole. To this day, whenever I pass by the empty lot where that house once stood, I think about the couple, how sweet they were, how senseless their deaths were, and how I had come within seconds of being his next victim. And that wasn't the only close call in my life, Not by a long shot. About a month ago, my friends and I got tickets to a professional hockey game in Minneapolis. It was a big deal. We lived five hours away, so we figured, why not make a whole weekend out of it? Kevin, my buddy with the car, picked me up Friday afternoon, then we swung by to grab our friend Dan.

Our plan was to stay at our old friend Jack's place. Jack had moved to North Minneapolis and offered to let us crash at his house for the weekend. By the time we got there, it was early morning. Kevin parked out front and texted Jack to let him know we'd arrived. We got out, stretched our legs, and headed to the trunk to grab our bags. That's when the screeching started. The sound of tires. We whipped our heads toward the intersection just behind us. A green compact car had cut off a dark SUV and both drivers slammed their brakes. Windows rolled down, voices raised, and all-out screaming match. Now, I didn't want to get caught up in some random road rage drama, so I grabbed my bag and headed toward Jack's house with Dan following close behind. Kevin stayed back, still fiddling with the car, trying to fix a loose panel. Jack's house was kind of unique, half-duplex, half retrofitted rental. He lived on the ground floor, someone else upstairs. Dan and I stood in the porch area, unsure which door was his. I pulled out my phone to call him, and that's when it happened.

Pop. A single, loud crack split the air. Dan and I froze. Kevin shot up from behind the car, eyes wide, scanning the street. My gut clenched. I knew what that sound was. A gunshot. Dan's face said the same thing. Oh, shit. We called Jack in a panic. Open the door. Open the door. The two cars peeled away, tires screeching, disappearing into the distance. Kevin hustled. up to the porch and we all stumbled inside as Jack let us in. We tried to brush it off, convince ourselves it was nothing. But Jack had heard it too. Never had anything like that happen, he swore. The rest of the weekend, honestly, it was awesome. We ate like kings, explored the city, cheered like maniacs at a nail-biter hockey game, and got way too drunk. Jack drove us everywhere,

and for a while, the scare at the intersection faded into the background. Until Sunday. We packed up, tossed our stuff in Kevin's car, and that's when we noticed it. A clean hole straight through Kevin's rearview mirror and windshield. Glass shards glittered across the dashboard. The bullet. It had gone straight through while Kevin was crouched in the back of the car fixing that panel. He hadn't even realized it. If he'd been standing upright, the bullet would have hit him in the head or neck. He would have been dead. just like that. We were shaken to the core. Called the cops, filed a report, did a quick patch job with duct tape so we could actually drive home. The whole ride back, we sat in silence,

thinking about how close Kevin had come to dying. Life is fragile, man. One second, you're fixing a piece of plastic in your car. The next, you're afoot from a bullet ending everything. And you know what? That wasn't even the last scary encounter I had. I work nights. My shift ends around 4.45 in the morning. I live in one of New York's five boroughs, and my neighborhood has always felt pretty safe, or at least it did, until this one incident. I was almost home, just a block away, when something I had placed on the passenger seat fell to the floor. Annoying, sure, but I figured I'll stop for just a second and grab it. I pulled over to the left side of the street, reached down to grab it. Then, I glanced in the rearview,

mirror. And that's when I noticed a car, following close, way too close. To be continued.