Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Unmasking the Fear Real Terrifying Stories of Home Intrusions and Hidden Threats #59

Episode Date: October 5, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #homeintrusions #hiddenthreats #creepyrealstories #nightterrors #truestories  This collection reveals true, terrifying stories of home intrusions and hidden threats. Ordinary homes become settings of fear as unseen dangers creep in, testing the courage and resilience of those involved. Each story uncovers chilling encounters that remind us: safety is sometimes only an illusion.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, homeintrusions, hiddenthreats, creepyrealstories, nightterrors, truestories, spinechilling, suspensefulmoments, eerieencounters, disturbingtruths, survivalhorror, terrifyingencounters, mysteriousintruders, hauntedhomes, darkrealities

Everyone always likes to brag about their best Halloween scary story. Like, everyone except me. See, I don't have a spooky tale or some creepy legend. Nope. What I've got is the damn truth, the kind of real-life horror story that makes people either gasp, start crying, or just flat out say, you're lying. And hey, you're welcome to call me a liar too, but I've got the scar to prove I'm not messing around. This all went down in late October 2013, in this tiny New England town called Tamworth, New Hampshire. At the time, I was working as a contractor, just doing my thing, fixing up places and giving estimates.

My buddy Toby and I, we both got sent to check out this old house out in the woods. The thing was, the place was ancient. Like, at least 40 years old, if not older. It sat at the top of this crazy steep hill, surrounded by thick woods that made the whole area feel super isolated. The house had been foreclosed on by the bank, so everything inside was abandoned. Nobody was living there. Toby and I were hired to inspect it and figure out if it was worth fixing up and selling or if it was just better off torn down and scrapped for parts. Right off the bat, I wasn't sold on the idea that it was worth anything, especially when I saw there wasn't even a real drive.

driveway. Just this long dirt path, with a thin little railing stringing along it, leading up to the house. Toby and I drove separately and met there. We had the key to get inside, so we unlocked the front door and stepped in. First thing, we checked the wiring, then moved on to the walls and support beams, hunting for termite damage or any major structural problems. After that, we went over to the water heater to see if that was still functional. Around this time, Toby got a call from the guys he was working with on another project. He had to bounce, so he left me the key and told me he'd call later for my final thoughts. Both of us were leaning toward just scrapping the place, it seemed like a lost cause. After Toby left, I decided

to check upstairs. There was basically just one locked bedroom up there, nothing special. Then I made my way downstairs to the basement to check out the furnace. Honestly, a small part of me wanted to skip the basement entirely. I was pretty sure nothing down there would change my mind about the house. But I'm a professional, I don't cut corners. So down I went. The basement door was tucked inside the pantry and led down to this small room beneath the living room. The floor was dirt, and there were shelves along the walls stacked with cardboard boxes sitting on bricks. A few bits of old furniture sat scattered around, an ancient rocking chair, a nightstand, some random stuff.

There was also this 30-by-15-inch window set into the wall that faced the front yard. Looking back, the biggest mistake I made was not bringing my flashlight. The house didn't have power, but since it was still daylight outside, I figured the light coming through the window would be enough for me to check out the furnace. So there I was, standing in the basement, staring at this old furnace for a few minutes. Then I leaned in closer to the window, my back turned to the stairs, and pulled out my phone. I took a couple steps forward, just stretching my legs, eyes glued to my phone screen. And that's when the pain hit me. It was sudden, sharp, like a searing hot poker stabbing through

my face. Both my hands shot up to my eye, and my phone flew out of my grip, landing somewhere in the dirt. I tried stepping backward, but I couldn't move. I was frozen in place, stuck to the spot. See, earlier I'd noticed some fishing poles stored horizontally, hanging from the wooden beams overhead. What I didn't notice was one single fishing hook dangling loose from one of those poles. I'd stepped right into it, and that damn hook had impaled itself straight through my right eyelid. Panic hit hard.

I raised my arms, trying to pull the pole out of the ceiling, but it was fed through the beam so tightly there was no way I could get it free while hooked in. I tugged on the fishing line, then the pole itself, hoping to snap something loose, but every pull sent a white-hot jolt of pain shooting through my face. The angle was all wrong, and I couldn't see well enough to work on freeing myself. I forced myself to breathe and think. Okay, my eyelid was hooked, but my eye was fine. No bleeding yet. But I couldn't move. I couldn't squat down or pivot. I started looking for my phone on the ground but couldn't find it.

I even tried feeling around with my foot but came up empty. That's when the reality really hit me, I was stuck, alone, in the basement of some abandoned house, far away from any road or other people. My truck was still parked down below, but how long would it take before Toby or my wife noticed I was gone and came back? I fished through my pockets looking for something to cut the line. No knife, but I had my keys. I awkwardly raised my heavy ring of keys above my head,

found the fishing line, and tried to saw at it with the sharpest key I had. Each tug was a stabbing pain, and I couldn't even tell if I was making progress because I couldn't see well. I thought about yanking the hook out, but the pain and potential damage to my eye stopped me. After a few minutes of trying, I lowered the key. He's shocked at how quickly my arms got tired. I tried calming myself, telling myself someone would call or come back soon, and maybe I could find the phone again. Time dragged. Imagine standing

in one spot for hours, with sharp pain stabbing at your eyelid nonstop, not knowing when or if you'd be free. For what felt like the first hour, I cursed, myself, Toby for leaving early, whoever had left those fishing poles there and the whole damn situation. I did leg lifts to keep blood flowing and tried sawing at the line some more, but I wasn't even scratching it. It grew dark. Suddenly, the window was just a faint gray rectangle against the darkness outside. Then, out of nowhere, my phone rang. Somewhere off to my right, behind me. I twisted as best I could, trying to find it and drag it forward with my toe, but still no luck. The ringing was almost cruel, just out of reach. After what could have been 15 minutes or three hours, I saw light outside. Not a flashlight,

more like the flickering orange glow of a fire. My heart leapt. I wanted to scream for help, but just as I inhaled, ready to yell, I slammed my hands over my mouth. Through the window, I saw the lower halves of people, at least three, carrying sheets, walking straight to the front door. Then I heard it open, heavy footsteps thudding across the floor above me. The basement lit faintly with that orange firelight slipping down through cracks in the floorboards. My mind raced. What the hell was going on? Was this some cult? A bunch of kids messing around, smoking weed early for Halloween. Whatever it was, they were tress. I debated whether I should call out, but before I could decide, I heard a scream,

muffled, a young woman's voice. Two stern voices yelled at her to keep quiet. More torches appeared outside, more robed figures filing in. I lost count, but maybe eight to ten people moved past the window and into the house. I heard them gather above, shifting into a circle, murmuring. I clenched my fists but didn't know why. The guy upstairs clearly didn't want me to know they were there. I was stuck in the basement, no way to fight or run. I figured maybe I should just wait it out and see if they were only there to party. The voices murmured in soft chants, but then a loud crash came from above, like someone hit the floor.

The front door slammed shut. Someone barked an order, another voice muttered a reply. My blood ran cold. Then the chanting rose. Another voice cut through the crowd with a harsh command. The tone changed, from dull and stoic to high-pitched and excited. Then, something leaked through the cracks in the floorboards. It dripped into my hair and onto my shoulder.

I wiped my head and realized, it was blood. I nearly cursed and stepped back. For two more agonizing minutes, the chanting went on. I just stood there, frozen, unable to move, to help whoever was up. there or run for help. Finally, my phone rang again. My heart almost stopped. I lashed out with my foot, trying to silence it. The chanting softened but the phone kept ringing, like it was mocking me. Silence fell after that. No noise above, just the whimpering and creaking of the floor. Someone was helping me up the stairs, the leader spoke about pain, fire, and brimstone. I don't

remember the exact words. Then the door creaked open and the torchlight spilled outside again. Their shadows danced on the trees, and for the first time, I saw their faces, disfigured heads, some with horns, some with beaks. My heart nearly exploded. I tried telling myself they were just masks. Then, I felt the hook slide free from my eyelid. It was the last thing I remembered before I blacked out. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. Had no clue where I was or how I got there. The light was stabbing my face, and my eye was killing me. Turns out someone found me lying in the street, or so they told me later. They had taken that fishing hook out of my eyelid in the ER, and the doctors looked at me like I was some kind of freak. I told them I got stuck in this old abandoned house

and a fishing hook got stuck in my eyelid, but nobody seemed to believe me. So, I was a So what were you doing alone in that abandoned house on the outskirts of town? Doesn't sound very safe, does it? The nurse said, smirking like she was judging me. I tried to keep calm, though inside I was a mess. I couldn't shake those faces, those whispering voices, and the blood dripping through the floorboards. Who were they? What did they want?

And why the hell hadn't anyone else seen anything? passed and my eye started healing, but the questions didn't leave me alone. Meanwhile, my phone kept buzzing with missed calls from Toby and my wife, worried sick because I wasn't answering. I explained what happened, but left out the crazier details, didn't want them thinking I was losing it. But something inside me changed after that night. I started digging. Asked around the town, hit the library, searched online, even went to the local sheriff's office. The end, Thank you.