Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Terrifying True Encounters Haunted Homes, Basement Secrets, and a Sinister Landlord PART1 #65

Episode Date: October 16, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #hauntedhouses #truehorrorstories #basementsecrets #creepyencounters #paranormal  A chilling collection of true encounters where ordinary homes hide extraordinary terror. From haunted houses that whisper in the night, to the unsettling mysteries of basements filled with secrets, and a landlord whose presence feels darker than the shadows he lurks in. This is Part 1 of a spine-tingling series that blurs the line between reality and nightmare.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, hauntedhouses, truehorrorstories, creepylandlord, sinisterstories, hauntedbasement, trueencounters, supernaturalhorror, realhauntings, paranormalactivity, chillingstories, scaryencounters, nightmarefuel, urbanlegends, darkmysteries

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 been 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, further 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 it today are hscccccd. i.e. 4 slash servicle check.

Horror. Story one, the garage that wouldn't stop. I was around 13 years old when this happened. Right in that awkward age where you're not really a little kid anymore, but you're also not even close to being a grown-up. My parents had gone out of town for a weekend because of work, and the plan was simple. I'd crash across the street at my friend's place.

Easy enough, right? Of course, part of the deal was that I had responsibilities back at home, We had a couple of dogs and a cat, and someone had to let the dogs out, feed them, and clean up the litter box. Guess who got that job? Me. So the routine for that weekend was, wake up, cross the street, check on the pets, and then go back to my friend's house to mess around, play games, ride bikes, or whatever else we felt like doing. We were basically kings of the block for two days straight. The first morning went fine, nothing weird at all.

But on the second morning, things got really, really strange. It was early, like painfully early, still pitch black outside, the kind of time when you wake up and wonder if it's even legal to be out of bed yet. My friend and I got up, looked out the window across the street toward my house, and froze. The garage door, our electric garage door, was opening and closing on its own, over and over, up, down, up, down, constantly. The sound carried across the street, that metal groan and slam echoing way too loud for such a quiet, dark morning. We just stood there staring, our brains trying to catch up

with what our eyes were seeing. And then one of my dogs darted out of the garage. I didn't even think, I bolted out the door, sprinted across the street, and scooped the dog up before he could run off into the dark. My heart was hammering the whole time because all I could think was, what the hell is going on? Why is this happening? My friend caught up to me, and we stood there on the driveway, watching the garage door still doing its creepy little dance. It kept clattering up and slamming back down, like some invisible hand was just playing with the button. We waited, five minutes, maybe longer. Nothing changed. The door kept jerking around. Eventually we decided we had to check it out.

I mean, what if it was just a glitch? Garage doors break sometimes, right? Maybe the wiring was bad or the button was stuck. That had to be it. At least that's what I kept telling myself. We went inside. The garage light flickered like something straight out of a horror movie. I went to the wall panel and pressed the button, forcing the thing to stop.

The silence that followed was worse than the noise. It was like the whole house was whole house. holding its breath. Here's how our house was laid out. You walk in through the garage into a little entryway, and then you had two choices, go upstairs to the main floor, or head downstairs into the basement. Simple split-level design. We started upstairs first. I flicked on lights as we went, my nerves buzzing. But everything looked normal, no broken windows, nothing moved around, just an ordinary house. For a moment, I almost convinced myself it really was. It was a just a glitch. Then we decided to check downstairs. The stairwell light had one of those old school

dimmer switches. I flicked it on, and that's when it happened. On the far wall of the basement, a shadow shifted. Not like a trick of the light, not like something falling or moving because of the heater. This was deliberate. The shadow moved away from the bottom of the stairs, sliding quickly toward the other side of the basement. My body locked up. My friend grabbed my arm. Neither of us said anything at first. Then, like the survival instincts of two terrified kids kicked in at the same time, we both ran.

Not back upstairs, not through the garage. We bolted out the back door of the basement and tore across the yard straight to my friend's house. We woke up her parents, talking so fast and so loud, we probably sounded insane. But they could tell we weren't joking. They called the cops. When the police showed up, they searched the whole house, every room, every corner, even the basement. Nothing. They didn't find anyone inside.

But they did find something outside. The snow on the back deck, nobody had shoveled it since it had fallen, was covered in footprints. Someone had been there, a lot. And the back door, unlocked. Here's the weirdest part. Nothing was missing. As far as we could tell, nothing. was stolen. No electronics,

no cash, no jewelry. Whoever had been inside wasn't there for stuff. And that's what creeped me out the most. If they weren't there to steal... 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-backed 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 Sports Extra. Jampacked 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 of 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 hse.e. forward slash cervical check. Put in your PPS number, check in the date of birth, and then they tell you when your next appointment is you. Oh my God, that's real. And you can check her on the register on the website so you can phone [phone]. If your test is due today,

you can book it today or hcc.i.e. 4.slash cervical check. What did they want? When my parents came home, I flat out refused to go back into that house until they walked in with me. Even then, I couldn't shake the image of that shadow. And considering my bedroom was in the basement, Yeah, no way was I sleeping down there.

I camped out on the floor of my parents' room for the next two weeks, and honestly, I don't even feel embarrassed about it anymore. 13-year-old me was terrified. Honestly, 13-year-old me was smart. Dash. Story 2. The basement knock. When I was a little kid, I lived with my grandma in this tiny apartment complex.

The whole place was in a really poor area, sketchy neighborhood, lots of crime, the kind of place where you locked your doors and windows twice and still didn't feel safe. But my grandma's unit was in what people like to call the nicer section of the complex. Not that it meant much. Nicer was really just code for slightly less awful. The complex itself was small, three floors, 12 apartments total. Not many people stayed long. It was one of those places where people were constantly moving in and out before you ever had the chance to know their names. And honestly, that was probably for the best. The ones we did meet weren't exactly role models. Some were creepy, others were straight up criminals. I don't think

we were missing out on much socializing. Now, under the building, there was this huge basement. It had storage rooms assigned to each apartment, plus a laundry room everyone had to share. Sounds normal enough, right? Except the basement was creepy as hell. It was always dark, always damp, and filled with noises that didn't make sense. You'd hear the heater kicking on, making these horrible dying animal sounds, or the pipes groaning, or the floorboards creaking, even when nobody was walking. As a little kid, I hated it. My grandma never let me go down there alone, and honestly, I didn't argue with her. I wanted nothing to do with it. But weird stuff always seemed to happen in that basement. People used it for sure.

shady activities. The landlord had found drugs down there, stolen stuff, even a meth lab once. Another time, he found dead dogs in one of the storage rooms. They'd been alive when the tenant was living there, but after he skipped out, he just left them locked in there to starve. That basement carried bad energy, and everyone knew it. By the time I was 14, my grandma was getting older and needed me to take on more responsibilities. Laundry duty fell on At first I hated it. Every time I went down there alone, I felt like someone was watching me. But over time, I got used to the creeks, the heater moaning, and the echoes of people above. I wouldn't say I was comfortable, but I managed. When I turned 15, my grandma bought a new dining

table. She refused to throw the old one away. She was kind of a hoarder, so it became my job to move it down into our basement room. I went down with the chairs first, and that's what we're when I heard it. The noise. It wasn't like the random groans of pipes or the mechanical wheeze of the heater. This was different. It was repetitive, rhythmic, deliberate, like someone was making it on purpose. I froze in the middle of our storage room, listening. Three short knocks, three long knocks, then three short knocks again. My stomach dropped. It wasn't random. It was a pattern, a message, but my brain couldn't place it right away. I pressed my ear to the wall, convinced it was coming from the room next door.

The sound grew clearer, the same pattern, over and over. And then it hit me. I'd heard that before, somewhere, but where? I ran upstairs and told my grandma. When I described it, she gave me this look I'll never forget. She asked me to repeat the pattern, and when I did, she said, That's Morse code. That's SOS. It all came back to me then. She had taught me Morse code when I was little, just as a fun little skill. And now, here it was, echoing up from the basement. We went back down together. She heard it too. That was all she needed. She didn't hesitate. She called the police. When the cops showed up, they didn't waste any time. The landlord came with them, and they started opening up every. basement storage room. Some tenants were home and opened their own. Others weren't, so the police just

kicked the doors in. In one of the rooms, they found an old wardrobe, the kind that looks like it belongs in a movie. Inside was a girl, a young woman, alive, but barely. She'd been starved, abused, and locked inside for days. The SOS was her desperate attempt to get someone's attention. The man who owned that storage room, an elderly guy who lived in the apartment directly above ours. Nobody had suspected him. Nobody had thought twice. But he'd been keeping her down there for at least five days. And the craziest part?

Other people had heard the knocking, too. They just didn't recognize it as Morse code. They brushed it off as pipes or rats or whatever excuse they could come up with. But not us. because my grandma had taught me something most people never bothered to learn. And that saved someone's life.