Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - White Vans and Cold Shivers Terrifying True Encounters That Still Haunt Survivors PART4 #42

Episode Date: September 23, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #realhorrorstories #survivoraccounts #vanstalkers #truestorytime #unexplainedfearWhite Vans and Cold Shivers: Terrifying True Encounters That Still Haunt Survivors PART 4" dives even deeper into the unsettling world of real-life horror. This chapter follows more bone-chilling testimonies from people who’ve had disturbing run-ins with unmarked white vans, unknown stalkers, and late-night chases that defy explanation. The fear is raw, the details are vivid, and the aftermath is unforgettable. These aren’t just creepy tales—they’re warnings that some predators hide in plain sight.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, realencounters, stalkerstories, creepyvans, truestalkerhorror, disturbingaccounts, unexplainedevents, survivorhorrors, chasedbynight, whitevanlegends, creepytruecrime, urbanfear, hauntingencounters, paranormalthreads, fearneverleaves

I had been driving all day, Arizona's brutal sun had worn me down, and after nearly ten hours behind the wheel, I was running on nothing but caffeine, gas station snacks, and sheer willpower. My parents had both told me to stop in Dallas at my brother's place instead of heading straight to Louisiana, but stubbornness runs deep in my family, and I thought I could power through. Big mistake. After the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned pitch black, I was still on the road. It was around 10 p.m. when the fatigue really kicked in.

My eyes were fighting to stay open, and my shoulders ached from gripping the steering wheel for hours. I wasn't even on a main highway anymore, just some quiet, winding country road that barely had street lights. Eventually, I found a tiny rest stop, the kind you wouldn't even notice unless you were desperately looking for it like I was. It had one flickering light pole, a couple of wooden benches, and a few empty parking spots. I pulled into one of them, locked my doors, reclined my seat a bit, and told myself I just rest my eyes for a few minutes. As soon as I shut them, though, I passed out cold, slumped over the steering wheel, totally dead to the world. What woke me up wasn't the cold or discomfort. It was a knock, a loud, sharp knock, on the driver's side window.

I jerked awake, confused and disoriented, and looked to my left. Someone was standing right outside my car. It was too dark to make out any features, just a shadowy figure. My heart was already picking up speed, thumping in my chest like a drum. I reached up, switched on the dome light, and my blood ran cold. I recognized him. I couldn't say from where at first, but I knew this man. He was standing there with a wide, toothy grin, like he'd just run into an old friend.

and next to my car. A busted-up white van that hadn't been there when I parked. He made a motion with his hand, gesturing for me to roll the window down. My instincts screamed nope. I need some help, he said, voice muffled through the glass. Roll down your window. Now. I shook my head.

No, I said, loud enough for him to hear. Immediately, his smile vanished. He began pounding on the window with both fists, the force of it rattling my whole car. I was frozen with fear. Then, he reached for the door handle. Thank God I'd locked it. He tugged it once, twice, then screamed, open your damn door. That's when he pulled a knife.

Not a small one, either. The blade caught the faint light from the single lamp in the lot and gleamed like something out of a horror movie. My body kicked into gear. I turned the key, fired up the engine, slammed the gear into reverse, and peeled out of that parking lot like my life depended on it, because it did. He ran after me, knife still in hand. I didn't look back more than once, but it was enough to see him sprinting behind me, arms flailing, mouth wide open like he was screaming something.

I couldn't hear it. My ears were filled with the sound of my own heartbeat and the engine roaring. I called my parents once I'd gotten back onto the main road. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the phone. I told them everything, voice trembling. My mom started crying. My dad kept asking me questions, what kind of van was it, where exactly was the rest area, but I didn't have clear answers.

It had all happened so fast. They said I should report it, but admitted it'd be tough for police to do anything. The rest area was basically in the middle of nowhere, and there probably weren't any security cameras. Plus, the guy in his van could be miles away by now. They told me to head to the nearest large town and get a hotel for the night. I was about five hours from Dallas, but thankfully just one hour from a decently sized city. I took their advice, found a place to crash, locked myself in, and barely slept.

I filed a police report the next day. Gave them everything I remembered, the guy's face, the make and condition of the van, the exact location of the rest stop. The officer seemed sympathetic, but realistic. He said he'd pass it along to Highway Patrol, but the chances of finding the guy were slim. Still, at least I tried. When I finally made it to my brother's house in Dallas, I spilled the whole story to him and his wife. My brother's a total Texas stereotype in the best way, loves him. his guns, his truck, and his family. He said if that guy showed up again, he'd make sure he didn't

walk away from it. I believed him. I stayed in Dallas for a week, tried to calm my nerves, get some rest, and feel safe again. Eventually, I made the drive back to Louisiana. Thankfully, I never saw the knife guy or his van again. But I'll never forget what happened. Since then, I've completely sworn off solo road trips, especially through rural areas. Something about those dark, quiet backroads just, sticks with me now. It's way too easy for someone to vanish without a trace out there. No cameras, no witnesses, no help. What terrifies me the most is thinking about why he followed me.

I'm convinced it wasn't random. He had to have followed me for miles, maybe from a gas station, maybe from the last town I passed through in Arizona. That van didn't just appear out of thin air. He had a plan. And if I hadn't woken up when I did, if my car hadn't started, if the doors had been unlocked, I try not to think about it too hard, but the what ifs keep creeping in. That was in the fall of 2009. Now, that was just the start of my encounters with creeps on the road. Let me tell you about another time things went sideways. Back in 2009 again, I was 16, living in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. My name's Vanessa. I had just gotten my license that year, and my dad had gifted me this shiny,

silver 2009 Infinity G-37 sedan. My first car. I felt like the queen of the road. I've got three younger sisters, Sasha, Clarice, and Sabrina. All of them were just as hyped about the as I was. So to celebrate, we decided to take a mini road trip to Delaware County to visit our cousins and other extended family. Our parents weren't super strict, so they said it was fine, as long as we drove safe and stayed smart. The drive to Delaware County went off without a hitch. We laughed, blasted music, snacked the whole way. It was pure freedom. But coming back, That's where things went all the way south. We were supposed to leave Sunday afternoon.

But you know how it goes, we were having such a great time that we lost track of the clock. Ended up not hitting the road until almost 9 p.m. And of course, we had school the next morning. Around 10.30, we stopped at a target to grab snacks and stretch our legs. Place was practically empty, except for this one dude. creepy didn't even begin to cover it. He was tall, probably six feet or more, with long, greasy hair and this half-crazed look in his eye. His teeth looked like they'd never seen a toothbrush. We immediately clocked him and kept our distance, whispering to each other to stay alert. Every aisle

we went down, he'd follow. Every turn we took, he'd be there, just a few steps behind. Finally, he spoke up. Girls look real pretty tonight. Q collective internal screaming. But Sabrina, the firecracker of the group, didn't hold back. Ah, E.W. You can F asterisk asterisk K off, Petto. Get a life.

He didn't like that. You better watch your mouth, little girl. I gave you a compliment, and you got the nerve to run your mouth. That's when I said, let's go. Now, we made a B-line to the register, paid for our stuff, and practically jogged to the parking lot. Just when we thought we were in the clear, bam. He pops out from between two cars, waving a knife.

I'm going to watch your guts spill out like sausages. That was it, we ran. Not to the car. We weren't dumb. If we tried to unlock it and get in, he would have caught us. Instead, we sprinted across the street, ducked behind some trees, and tried to stay as silent as possible. He was still looking for us.

Yelling all kinds of gruesome threats, stuff about decapitating us, slicing us up. Pure nightmare fuel. Eventually, he wandered away far enough that we made a break for the car. The second we got there, he saw us. I jumped into the driver's seat, slammed the doors shut, and hit the gas.

We were out of there. But the nightmare wasn't done. A pickup truck started tailing us. At first, I thought maybe it was just coincidence. But then it started riding our bumper. At one point, it actually bumped us, like, legit hit the back of my infinity. The road was narrow at first, so I couldn't go very fast. But the second it widened.

I floored it. To be continued.