Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Terrifying Encounters with Unknown Creatures, Haunted Halls, and a Missing Girlfriend PART4 #20

Episode Date: October 30, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #unknowncreatures #hauntedhalls #missinggirlfriend #truehorrorstories #supernaturalencounters  Part 4 continues the chilling series of encounters with mysterious creatures, haunted locations, and the unnerving disappearance of a girlfriend. The stories highlight intense suspense, escalating fear, and the psychological strain of confronting the unknown. This installment underscores survival, vigilance, and the terrifying unpredictability of real-life horror experiences.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, unknowncreatures, hauntedhalls, missinggirlfriend, suspenseandterror, dangerousencounters, frighteningexperiences, realhorrorstories, nearfatalencounters, supernaturalhorror, chillingencounters, unexpecteddanger, paranormalactivity, eerieencounters, truecrimehorror

The night I saw something that shouldn't exist. Vomit. Yeah, that's the best word to start this with, because what I'm about to spill out of my brain is messy, sickening, and probably impossible to digest without gagging a little. You're going to think I'm making this up, or that I was drunk, high, or just out of my damn mind. I wouldn't even blame you.

If someone else told me this, I'd roll my eyes, laugh nervously, and walk away before their crazy see. stuck to me. But I swear on every bone in my body that I saw it. Now, imagine this. Picture a tall, naked humanoid figure, except it wasn't just one being. It looked like some deranged surgeon had decided to play God with spare parts. Three heads were stitched together like a Frankenstein nightmare walking on two legs. The stitching wasn't clean or neat, no, it looked like torn flesh, jagged threads, raw skin barely holding together.

The head on the far left had delicate features, soft jawline, maybe female once upon a time. The one on the far right? Masculine, heavier face, more square. But the one in the middle, God, the middle wasn't human at all. That head looked like it had never belonged to anything that walked this planet. The eyes were too wide, the mouth stretched in ways a mouth shouldn't stretch. No nose, just slits, and the skin was, wrong. Almost grey, slick, like something peeled it out of the earth or pulled it from the bottom of a swamp.

I only stared at it for maybe two, three seconds before instinct took over. My hands were already holding the shotgun, and I emptied every single shell in its direction without even thinking. Boom, boom, boom, boom. The thing staggered after the first couple of the first couple of, shots, like it felt them, like it was wounded, but then it just melted back into the tree-lein like mist being sucked away. And that was it. No body.

No blood. No scream. Just gone. You'd think relief would wash over me. Nope. What actually hit me was pure panic. Because if something like that can survive being blasted at point-blank with a shotgun, then what chance do I have when the shells are gone? I was already empty. Out of ammo. Exposed.

I didn't run straight home. I wasn't that stupid. If I followed my usual path back, I'd be heading in the exact same direction that thing vanished. With nothing left to defend myself, that was basically suicide. So I cut through an alternate route, weaving through back trails only I knew, pushing my legs faster than I thought they could move. Every snapped twig behind me sounded like claws, every shadow was a monster waiting to grab me. Fifteen minutes later, though it felt like hours, I stumbled up onto my front porch. I didn't even catch my breath. Because right then, right as I reached safety, I heard it again. That awful, wet, gargled sound. Like a scream, but not human.

Like all three of those heads were trying to cry out at once, but none of them could get it right. I bolted inside, locked every single door, pushed the couch against the back door, shoved a chair under the knob of the front, dragged whatever I could into the hallway. Finally, I barricaded myself inside my bedroom with Roxy, my dog, who was shaking so badly I could feel her bones rattling against my leg. For days after that, paranoia ruled me. I didn't sleep much.

Eight less. Every creak in the walls, every gust of wind outside, made my heart pound. I became the kind of guy who checks his windows 12 times before bed, who leaves lights on in every room even though it hikes the power bill. I bought steel bars for the windows, install the full security system with cameras pointing out into the yard, front, back, sides, everywhere. I never thought I'd need something like that way out here, in the middle of nowhere.

But apparently, life loves to throw curveballs. Now, I don't want to sound like one of those lunatics online who screams about government conspiracies and aliens. I'm not here to speculate about what I saw. I don't know what it was. I just know it wasn't human. If I start trying to label it, demon, experiment, monster, whatever, it just makes me. me sound even more insane than I already feel. But I'll leave you with one detail, one little breadcrumb that makes me believe what I saw

wasn't just in my head. Today is August 29. The thing I saw. That was about two weeks ago. The very next day after my encounter, police reported discovering an unidentified body in the woods off Highway 9, just outside St. Andrews. The cause of death. Undetermined.

That's the official word. They're not releasing many details, and the article I found was vague as hell. But something deep inside me whispers it's connected. And I can't shake the thought, what if that body is missing its head? That's not even the end of it. My story stretches back earlier in the year, late February, or maybe the beginning of March, when life was already twisted in ways I didn't ask for. See, my parents aren't together anymore.

Splitting homes was hell. My sister, Emily, ended up living with dad, while I stayed with mom. It's rough. Anyone who's been through that knows the pain. Two houses, two routines, half your life shoved into bags whenever you switch places. So yeah, I treasure the moments I do get with Emily. She's more than my sister, she's like the one anchor. keeping me sane sometimes. On the night in question, we were at Dad's House. He had already

crashed for the night, snoring away in his room. Emily and I, we were restless, bored, restless energy buzzing in our veins. We wanted out. So we decided to sneak out to meet some friends at the park nearby. It was around 11 p.m. The park sat right beside a massive forest, the kind that swallowed sound and light. Not many kids dared to play there after dark, and for good reason. Even when we were younger, the place had a certain vibe. I remember our grandfather used to take us there. He'd spin us wild stories while we sat under the old swing set.

One tail stuck, skin walkers. Shapeshifting creatures from Native American folklore, tricksters, predators, things that could wear human faces but never quite get them right. Back then, it was just a story. Something to scare us into holding hands on the walk home. But later in life, I realized he wasn't entirely joking. When I joined the Army, I had my own brush with something I couldn't explain. We were on a training exercise out in the desert one night, tents pitched, everyone dead tired.

I was unlucky enough to get guard duty. My job was simple, keep watch while the rest of the platoon slept. Around midnight, I heard it. Rustling. At first, I figured it was a coyote sniffing around for scraps. I grabbed my flashlight and scanned the dunes, the shrubs. Nothing. Then the sound shifted.

It wasn't rustling anymore, it was crying. wailing. Not just crying, this was gut-wrenching, blood-curdling. It sounded like someone had just watched their kid die in front of them. My skin crawled. Regulation said if anything suspicious happened, I was supposed to wake the sergeant. But curiosity is a poison. I thought maybe one of the guys had gotten bad news earlier in the day and snapped.

Stress does that sometimes. I'd seen soldiers break before. I didn't want to sound the alarm if it was just one of my brothers losing it. So I went toward the sound. Creeping slow. The wailing was coming from behind a big shrub just outside the perimeter. I killed my flashlight, heart pounding, and circled around. And that's when I saw it.

Bathe in the pale light of the moon stood a creature taller than any man I'd ever seen. Skin so pale it almost glowed. Its back hunched, shoulders rising and falling as if it was breathing, or pretending to breathe. I gasped, and in that instant, it twisted its head toward me. The eyes. God, the eyes. They glowed faintly, like embers in a dying fire. Wrong.

Inhuman. I stumbled back, trying not to scream, then bolted straight. for the sergeant's tent. Shook him awake, stammered that someone was outside. We spent an hour combing the area, checking the perimeter, searching every tent. Nothing. No footprints, no tracks, no sign of anything. When he asked me what I saw, I lied.

Said it looked like a man, maybe some wanderer who got too close. I wasn't about to admit the truth, not unless I wanted a psyche vowel and paperwork. that would follow me forever. But I know what I saw. It wasn't human. Not even close. And now, years later, here I am again. Different place, different life, but the same kind of horror.

And the worst part, I get the sickening feeling that whatever I saw in those woods, the three-headed nightmare, and that pale desert figure from years ago. They're the same thing. To be continued.