Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Witchcraft, Hauntings and Halloween Real Stories from the Darkest Corners of Life PART3 #72

Episode Date: September 26, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #witchcrafthorrors #hauntedhouses #halloweenspirit #paranormalactivity #darkencounters  "Witchcraft, Hauntings and Halloween: Real Stories from the Darkest Corners of Life – PART 3" dives deeper into terrifying true experiences involving witchcraft rituals, haunted homes, and supernatural encounters during the Halloween season. These stories reveal how the veil between worlds thins, exposing survivors to malevolent forces lurking in the darkest corners of life.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, witchcrafttales, hauntingstories, halloweenhorrors, paranormalencounters, darkrituals, eerieexperiences, spookytrueevents, chillingaccounts, hauntedplaces, shadowyfigures, nightterrors, sinisterevents, supernaturalfear, realparanormal

I started sending money and random items like prepaid phones and gift cards to friends living overseas. Not a lot, just enough to avoid suspicion. I told them they'd be doing me a big favor, and none of them ever questioned it. Or if they did, they didn't say a word. One buddy was living in China, and another had moved to Western Europe. Whenever they used those cards or bought something, it would be like planting a breadcrumb trail, one that someone would have to chase down, even if just for appearances.

I needed all the distractions I could create. Then there were two friends who'd just tied the knot and gone to South America for their honeymoon. Classic couple. They threw a little dinner party before they left. I showed up, made small talk, had a few drinks. At one point, I excused myself to use their computer. While nobody was watching, I slipped into Photoshop and edited my face into some of their selfies, just subtle enough to not be obvious. Later, when those photos

hit Facebook, I figured any halfway decent facial recognition tool would pick me up in the crowd. It was another breadcrumb. Another distraction. Another buffer. Next, I grabbed a map and closed my eyes, stabbing four random towns with a pen. Places I had no intention of ever visiting. Then, I bought a burner phone. Every day during lunch or whenever I could sneak away from work, I called rental agencies in those towns and set up appointments to see apartments, appointments I never showed up for. I called internet providers, water companies, trash collection, even random magazine subscriptions. All of it fake. All of it under my name or a variation of it.

If you're reading this and thinking, what a jerk, I get it. But here's the thing, when these companies show up and there's no one there. They just shrug and leave. No harm, no foul. And for each of those fake appointments, I left callback numbers that led to local police departments or federal buildings. I wasn't trying to fool anyone permanently. I just needed to make things messy enough to slow them down. Time was the only thing I could hope to buy.

I even changed all the info on the loyalty programs I was in. You know, grocery stores, airlines, hotel chains. I'd call and say they had my name spelled wrong or give them a new address. Everything I could think of to muddy the waters. I didn't want to risk losing the files I pulled from the email that started all this, so I backed them up to a USB and printed out hard copies, twice. Then, I mailed them to different PO boxes run by private mailbox companies. For total.

Let's call them. Box A, totally fake identity in a town I'd never step foot in. Box B, same drill. Fake identity. Useless location. Box C, real identity, but a town near one I'd once visited. Box D, real identity, town I planned to disappear into. Meanwhile, I had to keep Fay, the love of my life, completely in the dark.

That was the hardest part. watching her laugh, play with our dog, whispering, I love you, as she drifted off to sleep. If I could have turned back time to before I opened that cursed email, I would have done it in a heartbeat. Just to hold her a little longer. While I tried to keep her out of it, accidents kept happening. Dangerous ones. The oven randomly malfunctioned and overheated, I had to shut off the power to stop a fire. On the way to work, a traffic light turned green for me and stayed green for the opposite lane too. I nearly got T-boned by some guy in a sports car. One afternoon, Faye took our dog, Sigmund, for a walk in the backyard. I heard her scream. I grabbed the shotgun and ran outside, not knowing what I'd find.

She was standing there, shaking, holding Sigmund tight. She pointed toward the field, and I saw it. a timber rattlesnake slithering through the tall grass. She said Sigmund had seen it first and tugged her away just in time. I walked up, aimed, and splattered that snake across a five-foot radius. She asked if I'd ever seen one before. I hadn't. Sure, technically they were native to the area, but I'd never seen one that close to our house. This wasn't random anymore.

This was desperation from whoever was behind all this. If they wanted me dead, they could have just done it. No, this was a campaign. A plan to make me disappear without raising red flags. Death by accident. Discredit me. Erase me. So I left.

It was a quiet Tuesday morning. I'd already talked to a lawyer and had divorce papers drawn up. I left Fay everything, except a few hundred bucks. I didn't want to leave her. I had to. It was the only way to make it clear she had no idea about Project E, 27X or the weaponization of Ebola. I kissed her on the cheek as she slept, trying not to fall apart. Hacking had been a slow process, stuffing a shirt here, a bar of soap there.

I was ready. I slipped out the door. Sigmund yawned and looked up at me, tail wagging. I knelt, scratched behind his ears, memorizing. the smell of his fur and the warmth of his little body. I left the divorce papers on the kitchen counter with a note, I'm sorry. I'll always love you. It wasn't enough, but it was all I could write without putting her in danger. And just like that, I vanished. It's now been nine years. Nine long, lonely years on the run. The first two, I never stayed in one place longer than a couple

months. I took odd jobs, always paid in cash, always under the table. I smiled and lied about where I was from. I wore my wedding ring on a chain around my neck and told people it was just a family heirloom. Three times over the years, I tried to get the truth out. I thought I could hand off my evidence to people who could protect me. The first was Larry Craig. Not because he was passionate about fighting bio-warfare or anything noble. Just because he was from a state far from mine. I contacted his office on August 23rd. For days later, I turned on the radio, arrested for lewd conduct in an airport bathroom. You've got to be kidding me. I went underground again. Next, I reached out to Tim Russert. I liked meet the press. Thought he seemed like someone who wouldn't

twist the story. His office responded. Said he'd be in touch personally. June 10th, 2008. I was nervous, but hopeful. Three days later, he dropped dead of a heart attack. I packed up and got on the next Greyhound bus out of town. After that, I left the U.S. for a few years. Easier to hide in crowded places, even with my weak language skills. I learned enough to get by. Came back in late 2010 and tried one more time. This time, Anthony Weiner. Opposite political party from Craig. I figured I'd mix it up.

I spoke to him directly. He promised support and protection in exchange for the files. We made a verbal agreement. I traveled to New York City to meet him at a quiet restaurant. He never showed. While I waited, the news broke on the bar TV. Weiner caught in a sexting scandal. Public trust shattered.

I finished my beer and disappeared again. Since then, nothing. I've been hiding. Lurking online only through proxies and public Wi-Fi. No social media. This post is the first time I've resurfaced. Faye. I know you got remarried.

I know Mom still lights a candle for me every birthday. Dad passed away never knowing why I vanished. Faye, if you're reading this, I hope you believe me when I say, I never stopped loving you. I didn't leave you. I left to protect you. You haven't sold the house yet. I know. I've watched from afar.

There's a lockbox buried under the third fence post from the road. Inside is the first book we ever read to each other and my handwritten wedding vows. I dreamed of giving it to you on our 30th anniversary. Do whatever you want with it. I just needed you to know it's there. This is my final message. I can't stay in this place any longer. I was going to write more, explain more, but something happened that changed everything.

I woke up today and turned on the radio. The family whose internet I've been stealing. Home Invasion For masked intruders at 3 a.m. shot the family dog, tortured the parents in front of their kids. The husband was shot in the stomach and died slowly while they watched. The attackers even cut off one of the kids' fingers. They were asking about someone matching my description. Because of me. I'm at a bus station now, about to disappear again. Maybe forever. I've ruined that family's life because I posted here.

Some of you say I should go to WikiLeaks or be some kind of hero. I'm not a hero. I just wanted a normal life. A wife, a dog, a couple kids. A backyard with a swing set. I tried WikiLeaks once. The day after I contacted them, men were in town asking questions. They found me fast.

So no. This isn't a movie. I can't stroll into a newspaper. and expect my life to be fixed. That's not how this works. Faye's husband is old money. She seems happy. I've seen some of you speculate that he's part of all this.

I don't think so. I think she just moved on. I hope she did. If I can get a message to her without risking her life, I will. To the person pretending to be from the company who said my Europe trip didn't fool anyone, nice try. I never went to Europe. Facial recognition can't be human intuition.

And for those saying Fay hired private companies to indulge my paranoia, you're free to believe whatever helps you sleep. This is goodbye. Thanks for listening. For reminding me what real human contact feels like. Goodbye. The end.