Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - The Night Evil Followed Me Home and Changed My Life Forever in a Summer Encounter PART5 #15

Episode Date: September 29, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #truehorrorstories #creepyencounters #nightmarefuel #paranormalexperiences #summereveninghorror  Part 5 of The Night Evil Followed Me Home concludes the chilling summer encounter series. The story depicts the final terrifying moments of being pursued by an unknown force and the emotional aftermath of surviving such an ordeal. This part emphasizes fear, suspense, and the lasting psychological impact of encountering true evil.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, truehorrorstories, creepyencounters, nightmarefuel, paranormalexperiences, summereveninghorror, scaryencounters, chillingtales, unsettlingmoments, realnightmares, disturbingstories, stalkerstories, survivalstories, mysteriousoccurrences, truestoryhorror

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 1-800-77-8888. here we go. I swear, the second my friend yelled, run, my legs took off before my brain even caught up. It wasn't like a normal run, it was that primal, pure survival kind of sprint where your body just

knows something bad is about to happen and you have exactly one job, get away. We cut hard to the right, shoes slapping the sidewalk, and my friend shouted again, head to the park. We'll lose them in there, I didn't have time to question the plan, or to point out that the park was pitch black and full of places for creeps to hide. We both just ran. And then I made the mistake of looking back. Three figures. All of them. Running straight at us. I swear the streetlights made them look even worse, shadows stretching long behind them, arms pumping, the woman's hair flying wild as she yelled something I couldn't make out. My lungs already burned. but adrenaline had a way of shoving the pain into the background.

We hit the park entrance and plunged in. The air shifted, cooler, damper, and the light from the street disappeared behind us. Now it was just the sound of our feet pounding dirt and the ragged breaths tearing out of our throats. We aimed for the western side, where a cluster of thick trees swallowed the moonlight. It was so dark I could barely see my own hands. Every step felt like a gamble, is there a root here? A rock. A hole I'm about to faceplant into. But stopping wasn't an option. Behind us, I heard the crunch of leaves, the snap of a twig, and then, thud. Followed by a hissed, ah, expletive, one of them had gone down. For a fraction of a second, my chest loosened, but then I heard the others barreling on, their footsteps getting closer. Suddenly, the darkness ahead broke open into pale light, a path. My friend jerked left, and I followed, heart still slamming against my ribs.

Somewhere behind us, the woman's voice cut through the night, split up. Check the park, that sentence hit me harder than I expected. They weren't just chasing us, they were hunting us. We bolted toward the public bathrooms, praying they were open. miraculously, they were. My friend yanked the door and we dove inside, letting it slam shut behind us. For the first time since we'd started running, we stopped. I bent forward, hands on my knees, gulping air like it was the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted.

My chest burned. My legs burned. My everything burned. We should have called the cops right then. Sat in that grimy little bathroom until flat. flashing lights showed up. But in the moment, we weren't thinking about logic. We were thinking about distance, about putting as much space between us and those three maniacs as possible. Two minutes, my friend panted. We wait two minutes, then make for the exit. I nodded, still half

listening for footsteps outside. Those two minutes felt like ten. When we finally cracked the door and slipped back into the park, the air felt heavier, like the night itself was holding its breath. We ran for the exit. We were maybe 50 feet from the street when a voice ripped through the dark. Hey! There they are. I turned just in time to see one of the guys, the one from before, sprinting toward us. He was far, but closing and fast. We didn't think. We just ran. Out of the park, down the street, cutting corners like our lives depended on it. My house wasn't far, but every second felt stretched and brittle, like it could snap into disaster at any moment. By some miracle, we made it. I fumbled the keys, shoved the door open, and we dove inside, slamming the deadbolt.

Silence. Just the sound of our breathing, echoing in my ears like waves crashing. For ten minutes, we didn't talk. I kept peeking through the blinds, half expecting to see their silhouettes outside. But nothing. When my pulse finally started to settle, we began trying to process it. What had they wanted? Money? Phones. Or something much, much worse. I'm just glad we're okay, my friend said finally. Yeah, I said. But my mind wouldn't stop running the possibilities. He's just, he's a lot. He's He stayed for another 30 minutes before deciding to head home. I thought about trying to convince him to crash at my place, but we were both too stubborn to admit how shaken we really were.

When I finally crawled into bed, sleep didn't come easy. My brain kept replaying the chase, the sound of footsteps behind us, the voice yelling, split up the sight of that guy's silhouette closing in. The next morning... There's so much rugby on Sports Exeter 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 bet 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 Centre National Helpline on 1-800-77-888-8.

Whenever you're ready to talk, they'll be ready to listen. I told my parents everything. They were relieved we'd made it home safe, but not thrilled that we'd refused the ride from my other friend. My mom said they would have picked us up if we'd just called. We filed a police report, gave every detail we could remember. But that was the last I ever heard about it. No follow-up.

No arrests. Just, gone. And that's the thing. They could still be out there. I don't know if they hurt someone else after that night. I hope to God they didn't. To this day, it's still the scariest moment of my life. It changed how I moved through the world, I avoid walking late at night now,

whether I'm alone or with someone. Because I still don't know what would have happened if they'd caught us. I just know I never want to find out. Fast forward to last year. Different situation, different state, but the same undercurrent of danger, that same ice water down your spine feeling. I was taking a solo road trip in my Nissan Ultima from Prescott, Arizona, all the way to New Orleans. My ex, a tattoo artist, was being sued by a guy she'd once tattooed over some injury he claimed had been made worse by the session. She wanted me there as a witness. I'd been in the shop that night, so I agreed. The drive was going to take about 20 to 22 hours along Route 40 East. I packed light, one bag, tossed into the front seat. It's worth mentioning

my car was a two-door coupe, so getting into the back seat meant folding the front seat forward. I almost never had passengers, so most of the time, the back seat felt like a forgotten storage space. I left before the morning papers hit the driveways. Traffic was light, weather good, playlist perfect. And yes, I listened to my music through headphones instead of the radio. Not the safest choice, I know, but it was my way of zoning out and settling into the long haul. The first stretch was smooth. My first real stop was San John, New Mexico, where I filled the tank and grabbed food. When I got back in, I noticed a faint, stale smell in the car.

I figured it was the restaurant. An hour later, somewhere in the middle of Texas, I pulled over to make a phone call and take a leak. I found a bush, did my business, called my ex to update her, left a quick voicemail for my boss. The whole time, I paced along the side of the road, facing my car. Nothing around but desert. The occasional car passed, but nobody stopped. Back in the driver's seat, I shut the door, popped my earbuds back in, started the engine, cranked the AC, and that's when my passenger side door slammed shut.

My heart jumped into my throat. I ripped out my earbuds and whipped my head to the right. The front seat was folded forward. forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement, someone walking away from my car. What the, expletive. I yelled, fumbling to hit the power locks. He was short, dishevelled, maybe in his 50s. Thinning hair. Jean jacket with no shirt. Corderoi pants. Blue Crocs. He staggered like he was drunk, wandered into the middle of the road, then bent over and vomited onto the asphalt. When he straightened up, I saw his face, lopsided mouth, missing teeth. He mumbled

something I couldn't hear. I called 911, told the dispatcher where I was, and mentioned he had tried to get into my car. As he walked away into the desert, I noticed something on his belt, one of those leather pouches retail workers keep box cutters in. I told the dispatcher he had a knife, then drove off. It wasn't until my next fuel stopped that the the realization hit me like a gut punch. That stale smell in the car. The empty cigarette pack in the back seat. He hadn't been trying to get in. He'd been getting out. Which meant he'd been in my car since San John. And I hadn't noticed. Not when I got in. Not while I drove for an hour with music in my ears. Not until he decided to leave. He could have done anything.

stabbed me strangled me and i wouldn't have heard him coming i still don't know what he was drunk high or something else entirely but i do know one thing i got lucky really really lucky to be continued