Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Terrifying Encounters St. Louis Clown Attack, Bloodied Stranger, and Lake Stalker PART2 #61

Episode Date: November 4, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #truehorrorstories #stloushorror #clownattack #bloodiedstranger #lakestalker  Part 2 continues the terrifying St. Louis encounters with deeper, more disturbing twists. The clown attack grows darker, the bloodied stranger’s intentions remain unnervingly unclear, and the lake stalker’s presence becomes even more threatening. These real-life inspired horror moments highlight how fear escalates when danger refuses to disappear, leaving only paranoia and survival instincts to rely on.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truehorrorstories, stlouishorrorstories, creepyclown, clownencounter, bloodiedstrangerstory, lakestalkerencounter, chillingencounters, stalkerstories, survivalhorror, creepyexperiences, unsettlingstories, realhorrorstories, spookytales, terrifyingmoments

A strange encounter and the winter that changed everything. I know this is going to sound ridiculous right off the bat, but when it happened, it was one of the most terrifying, confusing, and downright bizarre nights of my life. If someone had told me beforehand that I would end up with a blood-soaked stranger in my living room, mumbling like some broken doll, I would have laughed in their face and brushed it off as the kind of nightmare scenario you only read about an internet horror threads. But trust me, when it happens to you, and you're standing there frozen, your brain screaming at you that this could be the end, it doesn't feel anything like fiction.

It was late. Too late, honestly. The house was quiet the way houses get when it's winter and the cold has sucked all the noise out of the air. I was still a little disoriented because I'd just woken up. My head was foggy, and my eyes hadn't even adjusted properly when I heard the voice. Who are you, he asked. I blinked at him. A man. Standing there.

In my house. My living room. My first thought wasn't logical, it wasn't how did he get in or where the hell did he come from. My first thought was pure, primal, oh my God, I'm going to die right here. So I snapped back without even thinking, who are you? What the hell are you doing in my house? He just stared at me. Blank.

His eyes were wide and unfocused, like he was looking through me instead of at me. There was something wrong. Something horribly off. He kept mumbling, strings of nonsense words, fragments of questions, his voice almost childlike as he kept asking where everyone was. I didn't know what he was talking about, and I was sure any second now. he'd pull something sharp out of his pocket and stab me where I stood. Then I noticed the blood. It was smeared across his clothes, spattered on his hands, streaked on his face.

My chest went ice cold. That was it, I was absolutely convinced I was about to be murdered by some lunatic who'd just butchered his whole family. But then, after what felt like the longest five minutes of my life, I realized the blood wasn't mine to fear. It was his. He was bleeding, badly. It was like my brain clicked back into gear after being paralyzed by fear, and suddenly I understood I wasn't dealing with some intruder who had come here to hurt me, I was dealing with someone who was already destroyed. I turned my head toward the living room window, trying to figure out where the hell he had come from, and that's when

I saw it. Out by the highway, in the drainage ditch, was a red picket. truck. Crumpled, half sunk into the ditch, one headlight flickering like a dying firefly. It all made sense in a rush. He must have crashed, wandered up the road in a daze, and stumbled into my house thinking it was. I don't know, maybe safety. Maybe home. I told him to follow me, and surprisingly, he listened. We stepped outside, the night airs sharp in my lungs, and made our way toward the truck. Before I could even figure out what to do next, another vehicle pulled up. A man jumped out, took one look at the scene, and immediately pieced it together faster than I had. Apparently, the blood-soaked stranger had been drinking.

Drunk driving, slammed his truck into the ditch, smacked his head hard enough to give himself a concussion, and then staggered his way to the closest house, mine. He was so out of it he he thought there had been passengers in the truck with him, people he kept asking about over and over. The driver who pulled up ended up taking him straight to the hospital. As far as I ever learned, he was okay. Just banged up, concussed, drunk, and lucky to be alive. But hindsight is a luxury. In that moment, none of the logic was available to me. All I saw was a strange man drenched in blood, standing over me in my own house, asking incoherent questions in the middle of the night. It's the kind of image that etches itself permanently into your memory,

the kind that resurfaces in nightmares years later. That was terrifying enough. But the universe wasn't done with me yet. Winter of 2015. Fast forward a few months. Winter of 2015. I was I was 31 years old, single, and honestly, way too reckless for my own good. My entire adult life had been one long string of dumb things I probably shouldn't do alone but somehow never got hurt doing. I had this misplaced confidence, this belief that nothing bad could really touch me. At the time, I was working at a doctor's office in Branson, Missouri. The days were long, the work was steady, and I had just gotten myself a brand new iPhone. I was ridiculously excited about it, especially the time-lapse camera feature.

One evening after work, as the sun dipped lower and painted the sky in shades of fire and pink, I decided I wanted to capture it. Table Rock Lake was calling my name. I drove my SUV into the state park and parked in an empty lot. Completely empty. No other vehicles in sight. Did that concern me? not even a little. I was too focused on getting my artsy sunset video.

The moment I opened the car door, the cold slapped me across the face. The air was vicious, sharp, bitter, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and makes you regret being outside for more than five seconds. I rummaged in the back of my SUV, pulling out gloves and swapping into better shoes. Then, determined, I took off down the trail that led to the lake's edge. The water glittered, the sun hanging low and fiery above it. A showboat drifted lazily across the lake, packed with passengers who were probably sipping cocktails and snapping their own sunset photos. I thought it would be perfect to capture the boat's slow crawl across the glowing horizon. The trail down was lined with rocks. Big one,

jagged ones. I was in a hurry, too much of a hurry. My boots slipped, my balance betrayed me, and I fell. Hard. Pain shot through my knee and hand. My head nearly smacked against a rock sharp enough to split it open, but somehow I caught myself at the last possible second. Still, the pain left me breathless, and reality came crashing down. Nobody knew where I was. Nobody. I was alone on a deserted trail in freezing weather, the sun slipping fast behind the horizon, and I just managed to almost knock myself out on a rock like an idiot. Sitting there, nursing my aching me, I realized the smartest thing I could do was not move

at all. I was close enough to the water. I could just film from there. That was my plan. But fate had other plans. The man on the trail. You got a light. The voice cut through the silence like a knife.

I froze. I turned, and there he was. A man. Standing maybe 20 feet behind me. Uh, sorry, I stammered. I don't smoke. He grinned, stepping closer. Saw you getting out of your car up there.

Couldn't help but notice you're alone. My stomach dropped. Where had he come from? I'd parked in a completely empty lot. I hadn't seen a soul when I walked down the trail. And now, out of nowhere, this man was behind me, watching me. Then came the words that made my blood run cold. So, you want to, underscore, underscore, underscore.

I wish I could tell you I laughed it off that I stood tall and told him to go to hell, but no. My body was still aching from the fall. Running wasn't an option, I could barely put weight on my knee. And we were completely alone. The showboat out on the water might as well have been in another universe. Nobody on board would hear me scream, let alone see me. So I thought fast. The kind of fast you only manage when your survival instincts kick.

click in and your brain goes full autopilot. It's too cold to do it out here, I said casually, forcing a smile that made me want to vomit. Let's just go back to my car. I abandoned the sunset video without a second thought. My only focus was survival. He smirked and followed me, his hands sliding onto the back of my pants as we walked up the trail together. Each step felt like walking toward an execution.

And all I could think was, how the hell did I let myself end up here? Please, God, let me make it out of this. I swear I'll be smarter next time. Just let me get away from this man. But as his grip tightened and the parking lot drew closer, I realized I had no idea what would happen once we reached my SUV. To be continued.