Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Terrifying True Encounters with Stalkers, Intruders and Creepy Strangers at Night PART2 #77

Episode Date: October 17, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #nightencounters #stalkerhorror #intruderstories #creepystrangers #truefear  Part 2 of Terrifying True Encounters continues the harrowing tales of nighttime danger. Stalkers grow bolder, intruders appear where safety should reign, and unsettling encounters with strangers escalate the terror. These true-inspired stories remind us how fear can strike in the dark and why vigilance is never optional.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, nightencounters, stalkerhorror, intruderstories, creepystrangers, truefear, chillingencounters, darknights, unsettlingstories, terrifyingnight, homeinvasion, nightmarefuel, realfearstories, creepytrueevents, dangeratnight

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. Don't let foot pain or discomfort hold you back.

At foot Solutions, we specialize in high-quality supportive footwear and use the latest scanning technology to custom-make orthotics, designed for your unique feet. If you want to free your feet in joints from pain, improve balance or correct alignment, book a free foot assessment at footsolutions.com. Or pop-in store today. Foot Solutions, the first step towards pain-free feet.

Horror. Number two. First off, I want to get something out of the way. My English isn't perfect, so forgive any mistakes in the way I put this. I'm not just telling you this to be cautious. It's real. It happened to me. And even now, thinking about it, makes my skin crawl. I'm in foster care, recently moved into the basement of this huge house in one of those neighborhoods that look straight out of a magazine, big lawns, immaculate driveways, quiet streets that never see a car past dusk. It's the kind of place where people leave their doors unlocked, thinking the world is safe, but I've lived long enough in less than safe areas to know better. My room was in the basement,

small but cozy, a single lamp, a bed tucked against the wall, and a window that faced the backyard. The yard had a motion-activated light, though it barely worked half the time, flickering more than illuminating. I'm also an insomniac, so being awake at 3 a.m.m. isn't unusually. for me. That night, the house was quiet, except for the occasional hum of the refrigerator upstairs. I was strumming my guitar, letting the music fill the otherwise silent basement when a chill ran down my spine. Something about the stillness felt wrong. I paused mid-strum, ears straining. The basement was cold, but not uncomfortably so. My lamp cast a small, warm circle of light around me, leaving the rest of the room dim and shadowy.

Yet, despite the warmth, I had this unmistakable feeling of being watched. My gaze flick to the window. Darkness, thick, unbroken darkness, nothing. I shook my head and told myself it was just my imagination. After a while, nature called, and I got up to use the bathroom. I came back, and that's when I noticed it. The air had dropped noticeably in temperature, goosebumps crawling across my arms. My window, the one I always keep secured, was slightly ajar.

The security chain was broken. My first thought, cat, but no cat lived here. And even if it did, it wouldn't have the intelligence or strength to manipulate a heavy chain and push open a window. That's when I saw him. A shadow, barely a few meters away, standing silently in the yard. I froze. My stomach dropped, heart hammering. This wasn't just someone lurking. It was deliberate, predatory.

Noticing my eyes locked on him, he didn't flinch, didn't move. He just stared. I've been in my share of fights, scrapes, street brawls that left my knuckles raw and my ego bruised, but this wasn't about physical confrontation. This was something else. He was confident, poised, calculated. He knew I saw him, and somehow it felt like he had been there longer than I realized, waiting. Instinct took over. I bolted for the window, slammed it shut, just as his fingers grazed the edge. The sound of cracking bone, or maybe wood, made my stomach churn. I yanked it closed, secured the locks as best I could, and he just stood there, bleeding, staring. Ten seconds of hellish silence before he vanished into the night,

like a predator satisfied with a momentary intimidation. I bolted upstairs, shaking as I woke the couple I lived with. Lights flicked on, doors checked, calls meed. The police arrived and scoured the property, but nothing. No one had seen him leave, no trace beyond a small smear of blood on the window frame. For five days after, I slept lightly, jumped at every sound, and then it happened again. This time, It was clearer. I was in the living room, just passing by the front window when I saw a figure, tall, wearing a black Giants cap, staring at the house. Our eyes met. That smile, slow, deliberate, the kind that promises nothing good, made me want to vomit. I called for my husband, but he wasn't there when I turned back, just gone. The cap could have been generic,

millions of fans wear it, but I didn't care. It felt like. It felt like. him. I still have dreams where that smile follows me. Three days later, I was alone again, baking cookies to calm my nerves. The kitchen was warm, fragrant with sugar and chocolate, then a knock, soft at first, almost polite. I froze, then louder. The sliding glass door rattled violently. My body locked in fear, mind racing. I grabbed the nearest thing, a heavy wooden spoon, and backed away, checking the dark yard. Nothing. But he was out there.

I knew it. The banging intensified, moving from the deck to the living room windows, probing, testing. He tried to open the door. Paralysis hit me, terror paralyzing every limb, until the instinct to...

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 champion's cost. match exclusively live, bus 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. Don't let foot pain or discomfort hold you back.

At foot solutions, we specialize in high quality supportive footwear. And use the latest scanning technology to customer. to make orthotics designed for your unique feet. If you want to free your feet in joints from pain, improve balance or correct alignment, book a free foot assessment at footsolutions.i or pop-in store today. Foot Solutions, the first step towards pain-free feet. Survive kicked in. I snatched my keys, ran to the car, locked myself in, and dialed 911, shaking so hard my hands heard. It took a long time for the officers to arrive. Even now, I can't forget the sheer audacity of that night, the feeling of a predator lingering

just beyond the glass. We sold the house shortly after, but that fear, the sensation of being watched, hasn't left me, not in the least. Number three. At 18, I was athletic, stubborn, independent, and blissfully unaware of just how dangerous small towns could be at night. Less than 10,000 people live there. no street lights to speak of, only the faint glow from porch lamps that hardly penetrated the darkness.

I had this habit, bad, according to everyone I knew, of running at night, sometimes between 1 and 3 a.m. as a way to tire myself when sleep refused to come. My boyfriend and my dad warned me constantly, but I shrugged it off. How much danger could there be in a town like this? That May night, it was cold, wind biting lightly against my raincoat. I tied my shoes, checked the leash on my earbuds, and set out. At first, everything was normal, the familiar route, the soft crunch of shoes on asphalt, the occasional hoot of an owl.

Then, I saw him. At first, I thought he was just another person, maybe walking a dog late at night. But no, something was odd. He stood in the park, completely still, a dark silhouette against the pitch black grass. His dog, a husky-sized shadow it's. moved subtly, sensing my presence. I tried to ignore it, but my gut twisted with unease. I kept walking, telling myself he probably wasn't even looking at me. But then I felt it, a presence behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and froze. There he was, following,

keeping a steady distance of about two meters. My heart went into overdrive. The street was dark, nearly empty, my steps echoing unnaturally. Panic replaced reason. I started running, sprinting as fast as I could, adrenaline surging. Behind me, he ran too, faster than seemed human. His steps matched mine, relentless, echoing against the houses. I twisted through streets, ducked into shadows, desperate to lose him. My lungs burned, legs screaming, fear gnawing at every thought. I turned sharply into a driveway, crouched behind bushes, barely breathing. Through the dense night, I watched him run past, stopping briefly, scanning the darkness as if he could sense me.

My heartbeat pounded, a drum of terror. Then he moved on, disappearing into the night. I waited ten minutes, paralyzed with dread, before I dared move again. When I finally reached home, safety felt fragile, temporary. The realization hit, even a small town with quiet streets and familiar faces could harbor something that waited, watched, and chased. From that night on, I swore off nighttime runs forever, learned the bitter lesson that danger can lurk anywhere, even in places that seem impossibly safe. To be continued.