Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Terrifying True Encounters Stalkers, Strangers, and the Nightmares They Left Behind PART2 #70

Episode Date: October 6, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #stalkersandstrangers #truehorrorstories #creepyencounters #realnightmares #fearstories  “Terrifying True Encounters: Stalkers, Strangers, and the Nightmares They Left Behind PART 2” continues exploring disturbing real-life experiences of people who found themselves hunted, followed, or cornered by strangers with sinister intentions. These stories dig deeper into the dread of being watched, the paranoia that grows with every step, and the nightmares that linger long after the danger has passed. They serve as chilling reminders that true horror often hides in everyday encounters.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, stalkerstories, creepyencounters, truehorrorstories, strangerdanger, realfear, nightterror, unsettlingstories, chillingtales, survivalhorror, realnightmares, scaryexperiences, darkstories, nightmarefuel, terrifyingmoments

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. I know what you're feeling and I was there too.

And I know you might think that there is nobody to talk to, but I promise that you're not alone. It was never your fault, and you deserve support and healing in your own time. Whenever you're ready to talk, Dublin Rape Crisis Centre will be ready to listen. Call the 24-hour National Helpline on 1-800-77-888-8. The smiling man and Dr. Ramsey, I remember that night far too clearly for my own liking.

The kind of memory you wish you could shove into some dusty, locked box in the back of your brain, never to be opened again, but instead it keeps playing on loop when you least expect it. The street ahead of me was empty. Completely empty. Not just quiet, but dead. No cars rumbling by, no night walkers strolling their dogs, no sound except the faint, hum of a distant street lamp and the rhythm of my own breathing. The sidewalk stretched out under the cold orange glow of the lamps, and for a moment I almost convinced myself I was alone. Still, something felt wrong. The air felt heavy in my chest, like it wanted to warn me before my eyes caught up. I turned my head, glancing back toward the spot where he had been standing just seconds ago. Gone. For the briefest heartbeat, relief washed over me, that stupid, and naive hoped that maybe I had been imagining things.

Maybe my brain was making monsters out of shadows. But then I saw him again. He was across the street now, crouched slightly, like some predator ready to spring. From the distance and the shadows I couldn't make out every detail, but I didn't need to. My gut already knew, he was looking at me. Directly at me. And here's the thing, I had only looked away for maybe ten seconds. Ten seconds, tops.

Which meant he had moved from where I'd first seen him to this new position very quickly. That shouldn't have been possible unless he'd been sprinting, and yet here he was, crouched, frozen, smiling. Shock glued me to the pavement. My feet refused to listen to my brain's screaming order to move. I just stood there, staring back, my pulse pounding in my ears. Then, as if he'd been waiting for me to notice him again, he stood. started moving toward me. The way he moved. God, I still see it in my nightmares.

Giant, exaggerated tiptoed steps, like some ridiculous cartoon character sneaking up on someone in a kid's show, except it wasn't funny. He moved quickly, way too quickly for such overblown steps. My stomach churned. I wish I could tell you that I ran. That I fumbled in my bag for pepper spray, or my phone, or something. But no. I just stood there, frozen in place, as the smiling man crept closer and closer. He stopped again about the length of a car away from me. That grin still plastered on his face, still tilted slightly upward as if admiring the night sky. I finally found my voice, but what came out wasn't what I intended. I wanted to bark something at him, what the hell do you want?

Something sharp, angry, commanding. What came out instead was a pathetic, breathless whimper, what the, whether or not people can literally smell fear, they can definitely hear it. And I heard it in my own voice. That made me even more afraid. But he didn't react. He didn't speak. He just stood there smiling.

After what felt like a lifetime, he turned around, slowly, and began, dance walking away. Yep. Just like that. smooth, exaggerated steps, arms swinging in rhythm with some invisible music. I didn't dare turn my back on him again. I kept my eyes on him, watching until he was nearly out of sight. That's when I realized something that made my blood run cold. He wasn't actually moving away anymore.

And he wasn't dancing either. He was getting bigger. He was coming back. This time, he wasn't tiptoeing. He was running. My survival instincts finally woke up. I ran too, my breath tearing through my throat. I sprinted until I was off the side street and back under brighter lights,

where the faint comfort of passing cars felt like salvation. I looked over my shoulder, gone. No smiling face, no figure chasing me. Still, the entire way home I kept checking behind me, certain that any second I'd see that grin again. I never did. I lived in that city for six more months after that night. Never took another nighttime walk.

Ever. There was something about his face that stayed with me. He didn't look drunk. He didn't look high. He looked insane. Completely, utterly insane. And that is far scarier than any mask or costume. A week or so before my tenth birthday, I had one of those simple, everyday errands that shouldn't

mean anything. The kind of harmless kid chore you forget by the next afternoon. I had a crumpled five dollar bill in my pocket and my mom had sent me to the corner store to grab a jar of ragu. It was early evening. The air smelled faintly like cut grass from a neighbor's yard and I remember thinking how grown up I felt walking there alone. 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. Jam-packed 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. You didn't deserve what happened. And it doesn't have to define you. You don't have to carry it alone. I know a safe place where you can tell your story, and you'll be believed. Call the Dublin Rape Crisis Center National Helpline on 1-800-77-88-88. Whenever you're ready to talk, they'll be ready to listen. No big deal, right?

I paid for the jar and started my walk back, holding the bag carefully so the glass wouldn't break. That's when he appeared. A man I had never seen before Sunday. suddenly fell into step beside me, like we were old friends meeting halfway through a walk. He was tall, maybe late 30s or early 40s, with short, neat hair and a too bright smile that instantly made me uncomfortable. Hi, he said cheerfully, his voice bouncing with energy. My name's Dr. Ramsey.

I'm a pediatrician. Do you know what that is? I kept walking, my eyes glued to the sidewalk ahead. Didn't answer. even glance his way. My mom had always drilled that, don't talk to strangers' thing into us, and this guy's over-friendly energy screamed danger. But subtlety. Not Dr. Ramsey's strong suit. Are your parents looking for a pediatrician for you? He went on, as if I hadn't just completely ignored him. Of course, you're almost a big girl now, you'll be needing another kind of doctor

soon, won't you? That's okay, though. They can still bring you. They can still bring you. you to me until then. The word slid under my skin, cold and slimy. What's your name? You have beautiful hair. I was just on my way to get some suckers for the candy jar in my office. Do you like suckers? At this point my house was only a few doors away, and every instinct in me was screaming to get inside. I broke into a quick run, clutching the bag tight, and dashed up the back steps into the kitchen, slamming the door behind me. I didn't know it then. but that was the beginning of the longest, scariest year and a half of my life. It started small.

Dr. Ramsey began driving by our house every day. At first, it seemed harmless, at least to a kid. He'd slow down, smile, wave. I told my mom. She said maybe our street was on his way home from work. Then the phone calls started. One night my dad called me into the living room and sat me down. His voice was serious, low.

He asked me about the day Dr. Ramsey had followed me home. Asked if I'd spoken to him. He told me I wasn't in trouble, but I had to be honest. I said no. He asked again. I said no again. Then how does he know your name? My dad asked, frowning.

Turns out, Dr. Ramsey knew more than my name. He knew my sister's name too. Pretty soon, neither of us was allowed to answer the phone. The calls became constant, several times a day. At first, none of us knew what he was saying. Then my brother overheard one and came to me looking pale. He said Dr. Ramsey was telling our parents he wanted to hurt me. Later, my sister too.

My dad called the police. But this was before stalking laws existed, and there wasn't much they could do. They told my parents to call back if he tried anything. That wasn't comforting. Life as I knew it screeched to a halt. No walking alone. No playing outside without supervision. No running down to the corner store.

My dad even asked a police friend of his to escort me to and from school for a month. When access to me was blocked, Dr. Ramsey escalated. He started threatening my sister as well. Then, one afternoon, my sister, two of my brothers, and my mom were in the kitchen when one of my brothers saw movement in the garage. Dr. Ramsey came bolting out. My brothers chased him all the way to the park before losing him in the trees. The police were called again. Same result, nothing.

The name was likely fake. A few weeks later, we woke up to find our dog, a black German shepherd born the same day I was, hanging from the side porch. The cops called it accidental. None of us believed them. The phone calls got creepier. He'd describe who was home and who wasn't. If my brother tried to say my dad was there, Dr. Ramsey would correct him, and be right. He'd talk about the house, how the kitchen window could be open from outside with a knife, how the French doors could be finagled if you jiggled the lock just right. That night, my dad hammered nails into the base of the French doors until he could replace the lock. My parents had to attend a company event for my dad's work.

My older brothers were out skating. My sister was on the phone. 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. Jam packed 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. My little brother was asleep on the living room floor.

I was watching the Midnight Special with Wolfman Jack when it happened. The top of the French doors swung inward. For a fraction of a second, before the nails snapped them back shut, I saw him, silhouetted against the porch light. Smiling. My sister and I bolted upstairs, then froze halfway up when we remembered our little brother was still asleep downstairs.

We crept back, scooped him up, and went into our bedroom without turning on the lights. We watched from the window for a long time, but couldn't see him. Then we spotted a shadow at the back door. Knock. Knock. Knock. What do you want? My sister called out.

I have a pizza delivery. Can you come to the door? She laughed coldly. I'm not stupid. I can see you don't have a pizza. I'm calling the cops. He left. By then, we'd basically stopped calling the police.

It never helped. Every one of us, except my youngest brother who was still asleep, was armed with a kitchen knife. Later, one of my brothers went into the kitchen for cereal. That feeling of being watched hit him hard. He scanned the dark windows. Nothing. He stepped closer. The light inside reflected too much to see out.

He cupped his hands to the glass. Dr. Ramsey's face was right there. smiling. By the time my brother shouted for help, he was gone. The next night, we were playing cards when one brother said he felt like any second there'd be a bang on the window. Almost as if on cue, bang. Bang. Bang. Right behind him. They ran outside. No one there. Two weeks later, I was on the school playground, hanging upside down from the swings. That blue-fing. Ford Galaxy crept by. He slowed, smiled, waved, called my name. That same day, my school called my mom to verify that my dad was on his way to pick me up. He wasn't. One night, I woke thirsty

and went downstairs. My dad was sitting alone in the dark kitchen. A gun rested on the table. He was done being afraid. Done letting us be terror. I sat with him in silence until he sent me back to bed. Eighteen months this went on. Then, nothing. One day, he was just gone. No calls. No drive-bys.

No knocks at the door. I never found out what happened to Dr. Ramsey. Accident? Arrest? Death? Or maybe the end came the night my dad waited in that dark kitchen. I don't know. And I'm not sure I want to.

Some people think the scariest monsters are the ones in movies. I know better. There's always a reason to be afraid. The end.