Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Witchcraft, Hauntings and Halloween Real Stories from the Darkest Corners of Life PART1 #70

Episode Date: September 26, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #witchcrafthorrors #hauntedhouses #halloweennights #paranormalstories #darkencounters  "Witchcraft, Hauntings and Halloween: Real Stories from the Darkest Corners of Life – PART 1" unveils chilling true tales from people who have faced witchcraft rituals, haunted houses, and paranormal phenomena during the eerie Halloween season. These encounters reveal the darkest corners of life where fear and supernatural forces intertwine, leaving survivors forever changed.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, witchcrafttales, hauntingstories, halloweenhorrors, paranormalencounters, darkrituals, supernaturalevents, eerieexperiences, spookytrueevents, chillingaccounts, hauntedplaces, shadowyfigures, nightterrors, sinisterevents, realparanormal

Before I get into this, let me clear something up real quick, this isn't happening right now. I'm not trying to get advice or beg for help. Trust me, I'm past that point. I've already lost everything that ever mattered to me. This happened over nine years ago, and only now am I finally taking the risk to share it. World events have been getting under my skin, and I've got a few personal reasons for writing this down too. I'll get to those later. So yeah, I had to drive around for like 40 minutes until I found an unsecured Wi-Fi network.

There's no way I was going to risk posting this from my own connection. I'm not that stupid. I made a throwaway account, no links to anything in my real life. Nothing that can trace back to me. I'm completely screwed and it all started with an email. One stupid email I never should have gotten. Summer 2005. I was on top of the world.

Just finished grad school, landed a job teaching English at a community college. I had married the absolute love of my life back in January, we had the nerdiest, most perfect wedding ever. We moved into this fixer upper bungalow on a few acres, adopted an elk-hound puppy. Life was amazing. Looking back now, I wish I'd appreciated it more. Let's call my wife Faye, not her real name. One warm July night, Fay and I had just finished doing yard work and were chilling on the porch with some beers.

Fireflies lit up the night, our pup was busy chewing a pair of my old socks I'd tied into a knot for him. Everything was calm. Beautiful. Before heading to bed, I told Fay I wanted to check my email, mostly looking for a message about the fall classes I'd be teaching. She said sure and went upstairs. I logged into my work email. Nothing from my department head. But there was one new email with a subject that made zero sense, progress of E.B.O.7 acts. Looked like spam. Total junk. But I clicked it anyway, curiosity or stupidity, take your pick.

The email address was almost mine, just a couple letters off. It had an attachment called E7X results and suggestions. The email was written to someone named Mark. Mark. Attached are the preliminary results from the latest E.B.OV-7 tests. The X-generation is holding up better. The modifications seem solid. Remember, this is eyes only.

Don't print it. You're new, but your help has really gotten us going here. If you've got anything to add, get back to me ASAP. If this gen holds up, we'll have a much better quarterly report this time around. Also, don't wear the tie with the mustard stain again, okay. Reagan, I didn't know who Reagan or Mark were, and the domain didn't match anything I recognized. I did notice the word Dietrich in the address. Weird.

I was about to ignore the whole thing, but instead, my dumb impulsive self clicked on the download link for the PDF. It wasn't password protected. I really, really wish it had been. The file was packed with thick, dense scientific language, mostly incomprehensible to me. I was a language arts major, not a scientist. But there was one diagram that caught my eye. I'd seen it before from a college friend who studied epidemiology. Ebola. That diagram showed the Ebola virus structure, no doubt.

I scrolled, confused and tense, until I found a paragraph that sum things up. With the E.B.O.V.7 iteration and the hiring of new personnel, we believe we have addressed the client's main desires. E.B.O.V.7.X includes the following changes from the base E.B.O.V.0. Increased incubation time, 12 to 40 days, compared to 2 to 12 days in E.B.O.V.0. Suppressed appetite loss, removing a key diagnostic symptom. Greater durability outside the body, remains active for up to 8 hours. increased fever rate by 20%, allowing patients to remain mobile longer. I sat back in my chair and just stared, rubbed my eyes. Read the paragraph again and again. Why? Who would want to do this to a virus that already kills so effectively?

And then it hit me. It wasn't about treating Ebola. It wasn't about making a vaccine. They were engineering a stealthier version. Something less obvious. Something that could spread before anyone realized what was happening. Something pandemic worthy. Holy.

Shit. I copied the file to a USB stick and shoved it into my messenger bag. Marked the email as unread and deleted it. Then I went upstairs to bed. Faye was already asleep, the puppy curled up on my neck. But sleep didn't come for me. I couldn't figure out what to do. Cops.

Media. Do nothing. I barely slept. The next morning, I thought about telling Fay. We never kept secrets. But I held back. I didn't want to scare her if it turned out to be nothing. I went to work and tried to forget the whole thing.

While setting up my new office, I was about to call Fay for lunch when two men in dark suits showed up at the door. Dr. George, one asked. Not my real name, obviously. You won't find my real name anywhere. Yes. I said, This is Dr. Wren, and I'm Doctor for All, the other said. Honestly, I couldn't tell you now which one was which.

They looked like twins, middle-aged, white, brown hair, clean-shaven, sunglasses. Creepy Calm. You may have received an email from our servers by mistake last night. I froze. Let me pause here. The people whose Wi-Fi I'm mooching from have now looked out their window at me four times. One of them just picked up a phone. I'm out for now. I'll be back. Stay safe. Okay, I'm back. Posting from the same Wi-Fi spot, but it's daytime now. Only the wife seems to be home. She hasn't noticed me yet. You might wonder why I keep driving 40 minutes just to post this.

Trust me, I'm not even writing this out on my home network. I've lived in over 60 cities since this all started. I like where I'm at now. I really don't want to have to run again. Now, where was I? Right, the guys in suits. My grandparents taught me poker, and that day, it saved me. I looked up to the left and frowned like I was trying to remember.

That whole looking left equals truth, myth. Total crap, but people still believe it. I told them yeah, I had seen the email. Marked it as spam and deleted it. Would you mind showing us, said the one who removed his sunglasses and tried to look friendly. The other one kept his shades on, and I couldn't tell where he was looking. That made it worse. If we don't confirm, our bosses will tear us apart, said sunglasses guy. So I logged into my university email. Opened the trash folder. There was the email, unread again. We really do apologize, they said. We've had issues with our new internal servers. Addresses are getting mixed up. It's auto-generating incorrect domains. I nodded. Showed them as I deleted the email for good. They shook my hand.

reminded me that the message was under strict corporate confidentiality and left as soon as they were gone i locked my office door my hands were shaking i texted fay that i had a headache and wouldn't make it to lunch then i sat down stared at the usb stick in my bag and asked myself what the hell had i just gotten into to be continued