The Lets Read Podcast - 101: Episode 090 | Burger King & Psycho Stories | 25 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: June 15, 2021

Welcome to the ninetieth episode of The Lets Read Podcast! This podcast includes narrations of true creepy encounters submitted by normal folks just like yourself. Today you'll experience horrifying stories about Psychos, Crawlspaces and Burger King... HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON - ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ♫ Background Music & Audio Remastering: Simon de Beer https://www.instagram.com/simon_db98/ PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead

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BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. I live in a five-story apartment and exactly opposite to my apartment is another five-story apartment complex. I live on the first floor and from my bedroom balcony I get a clear view of the apartment unit of the complex exactly opposite to mine. It's called the unit of the apartment exactly opposite to me, Unit B. Now a little back story. In Unit B there used to live these two elderly women. Both sisters and widows who died when I was about 12 years old and ever since no one had ever lived there. One had a daughter and was married whereas the other

woman had no kids. So one night I was up late studying when I decided to take a 15 minute break. It was a hot summer night so I thought I would just sit in the balcony for a bit to relax. While I was chilling out I saw something move in the window of unit B in my peripheral vision. I instantly look towards the window and see nothing. I keep looking at the window of unit B in my peripheral vision. I instantly look towards the window and see nothing. I keep looking at the window for about 2-3 minutes. Nothing. I sit back on my chair and continue to scroll through my phone and while I'm about to leave I take a quick glance at the window and there she is. A woman dressed in a white kurta, long black hair and a dead look on her face. Not any of the old ladies who used to live there. And as soon as she sees me she turns around and away from the window.

I was a little scared and instantly ran back into my bedroom and closed the balcony. At this time it was about 2.45 to 3 a.m. and we've all heard about the witching hours so I decide to sleep. While in bed I keep thinking about the woman and who it could possibly be. The next morning I talk to my mom about it and she brushed it off by saying it might be someone from their family just checking on the house. This happened in the middle of a nationwide lockdown and who on earth would come at 3 in the morning to check if the house is fine? The same night when I told my mom about this, I decided to stay up and see if I saw anyone again. Nothing. I saw nothing. I saw nothing until a few days later. same story. Me chilling on my balcony, staring at Unit B's window when I see the same

woman appear from somewhere within the apartment, didn't really understand from where, and stand in front of the window looking down at the empty street. And when I called out for her, she just went back in. I told my mom again and she told me that she has the contact number of the daughter, we'll call her Jen, of one of the old ladies who live there. I called Jen to ask her about the whole situation and she informed me that she was in, I don't want to mention the place, but it was about 12 hours away from where I lived. So I asked her if she has given the keys to someone and she hasn't. Jen instead told me the story of a young girl who used to live in unit B with her parents before them. This was in the 70s probably. She was in love with a boy, unmarried and pregnant. Where I live, being pregnant before marriage is a taboo

and in the 70s it was even worse. And because of societal pressure and what people would say she took her own life. Jen also mentioned that the 70s girl made her presence known to Jen and her family when they used to live there but was always harmless and Jen thinks I probably saw the girl who took her own life. This story happened a couple of years ago. The main character of the story is John. Back then, a 27-year-old single male living alone in a studio apartment in one of the biggest cities in my country. This has relevance later on. To begin, I will describe what kind of person John was. John grew up with his grandparents because his

mother was an addict and his father, also his mother's dealer, died of an overdose while John's mother was pregnant with him. John lived with his grandparents until the age of 24 and then got kicked out because he apparently stole a large sum of money from them. This was very easy to believe because later on we also had a couple of incidents with him taking things that didn't belong to him. John also always wanted to one-up you with everything. He could do anything better, faster, more efficient and so on. He also lived in a fantasy where he had a very important role in everything he associated himself with and he lived like he had all the money in the world but in reality he regularly had to sell his stuff to afford food. Now how I met John.

I met John at a local gaming center. We both played the Pokemon trading card game. Everybody warned me from the beginning about him, what kind of person he was, but I didn't give it much of a thought. A year went by with several minor incidents with him not really worth mentioning here, until one day the first real red flag appeared. I just missed my bus after going shopping for some gaming supplies. The next bus was an hour or so, so it was quite the wait. I sat on the bench by the bus stop scrolling through Facebook when I suddenly heard a voice calling my name. It was John. He asked me what I was doing there and I told him so.

Then he suggested for me to come to his apartment to play some games to kill the time. John wasn't my first choice of person whom I wanted to spend my time with but I figured it was better than waiting all alone. At his apartment we played some games for actually more than two hours. Nothing weird happened until I decided to leave his place. I stood up and said that I had had a great time but really had to go now. John suddenly out of nowhere lunges to his door, locks it and throws the keys in his closet. I said, well John I told you I have to go so just open the freaking door so I can leave. He refused and when I wanted to grab

the keys from his closet he took his katana which he also had lying around and pointed it at me saying I wasn't leaving. As I'm a male myself I didn't feel threatened by him and said what are you gonna do man? Kill me? Well go ahead you won't get that far. We had to stare down for a couple of seconds until he decided to lower his katana and open the door so I could leave. I felt very confused afterwards why he suddenly acted like that but then I received a DM from him telling me he was just fooling around with me and did not take anything that happened seriously. So I did that since he always appeared weird and unpredictable to me anyway. This was the first incident with him acting weird that was worth mentioning because of what is to come now.

Not for the main story and why you're all here. This happened a couple of months ago after the Katana incident. John regularly went to anime conventions and that is where he met a girl which he later invited via facebook to come to his apartment to trade pokemon figurines on the day of the meetup the girl according to john ghosted him and he was very mad about it she also never came back home and her parents filed a missing person report. This was very strange for her to just vanish and a search for her was started. Two days later our group went to meet up at the gaming center to play the Pokemon trading card game. John didn't show up which was very unusual

for him because he has never missed a meet up before. I asked around where John was and someone told me that he was at the police station to take a statement about the missing girl. We all joked about knowing John that he would make himself suspicious and would probably argue with the cops so that they would keep him at the station for the night. That evening further passed uneventful and I went home to sleep. The next morning was the day when the bomb got dropped on me. I woke up to a dozen of texts from my friends with links to news articles related to that missing girl. Apparently John's alibi had a lot of gaps and he said a lot of contradictory things

to the cops which made him a suspect in the case. The police ordered a search warrant for John's apartment and that is where they discovered the whole truth. Entering John's apartment, the cops found blood stains on his carpet and some loose dirt coming from his backyard. I can guess you already know where this is going and yes, indeed they found the girl's body in a shallow grave in John's backyard. The girl was naked and bound up. Later autopsy revealed the girl was strangled to death and had been brutally violated as well. They found John's DNA in her. The cops also found camera footage from the girl and John entering his apartment that faithful day only for her to never leave again. Confronting John with the evidence he still

claimed he didn't know what happened that day and that the girl just didn't show up. John kept claiming to be innocent for the following two years while locked up waiting for his trial. At his trial the further dark side of John was revealed. While investigating the murder, the cops searched John's phone and laptop and found he was active on online forums and chat logs. Those were forums and chat logs with other men discussing how they got off on strangling and violating women. John was also a huge fan of things like this and openly discussed his fantasies on those sites. In one of the conversations, John confessed to another man about how he dreams of kidnapping 13-year-old girls only to keep them as slaves in a dog cage and torture them daily. The dog cage he was talking about and various other toys were found during the search of his apartment,

so I guess one day he would have gone through with his plans. A psychiatrist examined John and diagnosed him with primary psychopathy and antisocial and narcissistic personality disorder. The test concluded that the chances of him acting on his fantasies again are very high, and he will always be a danger to society. Finally, his trial had come to a conclusion. The jury found him guilty of everything in the first degree, and he got the maximum punishment for which is life in prison or 30 years of incarceration in my country. Also, while John was locked up, he attacked his cellmate and tried to violate and kill him as well.

This is currently under investigation and an additional punishment will be added to a sentence for that crime. The moral of the story is to never know someone fully and to never fully assume you know what's going on in the person's mind. Also, never meet up at someone's place if you don't know them very well. Meet up at a public place instead. This tragedy could have been avoided that way. So John if you do ever get out which might be in 30 plus years, 20 with good behavior which I know you'll never get, let our paths never cross again. People like you are sick and will never change their way of thinking. I work for the local coroner's office. I went on my first in 2019 shortly after being hired. I was expecting to remove bodies after people dying in nursing homes or murder victims. The call came from the police station in fall 2019 that there was a body to be removed and it was going to be a bit more of an intense job.

The information we were provided in order to prepare for this job went something like this. Man, in his mid-80s, living alone, died in his rented home. His family had not heard from him in weeks and had called a police office in his area and requested a welfare check. The man had died on his bedroom floor weeks prior to being found. Foul play was suspected due to the condition of the body but responding police officer might not be familiar with the decomposition process the landlord wants the home cleaned up immediately and is wanting to fill it with new occupants as soon as possible we pack the van with everything we're going to need the gurney body bag cleaning materials and we suit up in the necessary biohazard suits. I wasn't dreading this

pickup, hoping he passed peacefully and his remains would make for easy cleanup. We arrive at the house. It's a small home with a lovely front yard. The automatic sprinklers were going. The house was painted a very light avocado green color with white trim. There was a red Prius in the driveway. The welcome mat said, hello. The front door is white with a large oval pane of carved glass. The coroner punches in the code on the large door lock and we enter the home. Immediately, even with the biohazard suit on, I am assaulted with the smell. The house is clean, aside from the pile of mail on the kitchen counter. His recliner was brown and the TV was large. Next to the recliner is

a dog bed, a very, very large navy blue dog bed. We announce ourselves and proceed. The spare bedroom, the bathroom, a closet then we hit the master bedroom the coroner opens the door and we're hit with a more intense wave of stench his body was lying face down in the light carpet the top of his body was white, completely drained of blood the underside was purple his eyes were sagging toward the floor mouth open but the tongue was not loose

or flopping out of the mouth. A thought popped into my mind and I quickly ushered it out. Was it missing? No, no way. The floor surrounding his body was stained with the brown liquid that leaks from a body when it begins to really start decomposing. His hair is white, he is wearing khaki cargo shorts and a forest green polo style shirt. There is a walker about three feet in front of the body with tennis balls on the bottom of the front two legs. The body is sagging into the floor like it was made of putty. There were flies. The coroner takes photos of the body from the doorway. There is a deep gurgling, growling sound from the corner of the room on the other side of the bed.

The coroner curses loudly and jumps as if startled. There is a massive white Great Dane in the corner of the room. The dog's snout is stained brown with the fluid of the man's body. The dog had been eating his deceased owner. The dog was starving and had been eating its deceased owner to survive. The dog stands and walks towards the side of the room we were standing in, growling. The collar around the dog's neck makes a tinkling sound as it moves. The dog is looking at me with bright blue icy eyes. He's massive. In height he measures up to my chest at least and I'm not a small person. We back out of the doorway and shut the door as fast as possible and exit the home. The coroner phones the responding police officer and

we leave the room and wait for the dog to be removed. The dog apparently was there to protect the old man. We re-enter the home and get to work. The coroner does not start but orders myself and my co-worker to start. The man's body did not come onto the gurney in one piece. He fell apart. The head and the remaining left leg and foot below the knee were first, then the legs below the hips, the arms, then the torso, if you could even still call it that. The coroner goes to the legs below the hips, the arms, then the torso, if you could even still call it that. The coroner goes to the side of the bed the dog was previously in and tosses the right leg and separated foot that were chewed up in the corner into the body bag, more cursing.

Each part of the man's body that was left was sheared and ripped at the seams, thanks to mother nature and the helping hand of the guard hound. The fluid rushed out of the man's body and further stained the carpet. I didn't feel scared, but I felt a sense of dread nodding in my stomach. The energy in the room felt thick and heavy, weighing down on my neck and shoulders. We zip the bag and transfer it into the gurney, lift the gurney and wheel him out. We loaded the gurney into the van and the coroner lights up a cigarette and asked what we planned on for lunch. I felt like gagging.

The eyes of the dog come to me at night sometimes, even though we met early in the morning. The man's adult daughter and her family own him now. I wonder if he thinks of the old man. I quit my job after the one call. I couldn't get the smell off of my body for what seemed like forever, even though my skin only ever came into contact with the air in his home. On April 24th, just a couple of weeks ago, my boyfriend and I drove from Minnesota down through Iowa and Nebraska to Colorado for a family emergency. We made a pit stop, trying to leave exact locations out of this to stretch our legs and also so I could look for rocks for a little bit.

I found a wooded area near a park that had shallow runoffs from the large river nearby. It was about 6pm and I had never been to the area before, so I put on my rain boots and rock hunting gloves, made my way down this little hill and into the woods the boyfriend trailed behind me a bit. This place looked like it had been flooded recently and maybe some kind of overflow area for the nearby rover because there was a lot of debris, garbage and downed trees that were smooth from traveling down the larger river. So I'm walking around examining the ground looking for some rocks when I see this men's athletic shoe that still had a sock in it, in the bank of a shallow runoff.

My first thought was, what if there's a foot in that shoe? I doubt it, but I've got to look. So I walked to the shoe to inspect it. Inside there was what I thought might have been some rocks, twigs, dirt and leaves. Figured maybe someone stepped in some mud and lost their shoe and sock. I mean, I've lost a shoe while rock hunting before. It's weird that the sock was still in it, but who knows. There was a lot of random stuff in the area. I guess I spent a total of one minute looking at the shoe. So I continue my search for rocks and a little further up this run off I see a bone that I picked up to show my boyfriend to ask what kind of bone it was and how creepy it would be if it was a human bone. I honestly didn't think it was actually a human bone because I definitely

wouldn't have picked it up. I assumed it was an animal bone and I figured the odds of it being human were slim to none. My boyfriend said oh it's probably just a deer bone or something. So I dropped it and kept looking for rocks. Didn't find any and we went back to the car and the rest of the details of the trip don't really matter. I think we were in this area for about 30 minutes in total. So flash forward to last night back home in Minnesota. I was lying in bed scrolling through Facebook and came across this news article from a true crime page that I follow. The title said something along the lines of this,

body of missing person found in Iowa, cause of death still under investigation. My blood went cold. Having not even opened the article to read the location or any of the other details, I just had this gut feeling. I instantly thought of the shoe with the sock in it and the bone that I had seen and picked up just two weeks prior. So I clicked on the article and as I'm reading it I see that the body of a person who went missing over the winter was found along the bank of the large river at the park that I was rock hunting at. And the case remains unsolved. I hardly slept last night because I had this overwhelming feeling that the shoe and bone might have belonged to that person. I called the police department that was handling the case and explained to the

dispatch lady everything that I wrote above. The tone in her voice changed and I could tell that she was crying and told me that this case has kept her up at night. She had me send an email with photos I took from the area and google maps aerial screenshots where exactly I was. She thanked me for calling and said that the head detective on the case would be calling me in the next two days. I can't stop thinking about this whole thing. I really hope that my findings will be able to give some sort of clue as to what happened to this person. I grew up in a loving home. My parents were wonderful and my sister and I were and are the best of friends.

I've always been a bit reserved when it comes to sharing my feelings and so even though my family would have been an awesome support system to me, I rarely confided about things that I should have. I suffered from panic attacks in the night, anxiety about everything and depression for most of my life. I vividly remember having my first panic attack at the age of two. I never really mentioned any of my anxieties and depressions until I was a teenager and began to realize that other people didn't struggle the way I did. The more my parents have realized what I was going through internally, all the while presenting as their good little girl, the more upset with themselves they have become. But it was never really their fault for not noticing. I covered it all up because I didn't want to appear weak when I was fearful and because I didn't know anything different when

I didn't feel other emotions. My father was a pastor of a small Baptist church in a small Texas town that felt like dust and boredom. We lived in the parsonage, a house provided by the church that was catty-cornered across two intersecting roads. The church itself was an overwhelmingly creepy place. Me and my sister still have nightmares about the vacant and ominous second story, and the winding corridors that creak and moan. But the parsonage, by all logic, was a cozy three-bedroom cottage. Even after all the weird events that took place there, I still look back on it with fondness, slightly tinged with uneasiness. Of the two kids bedrooms I somehow got the bigger one.

My sister, older by seven years, had first pick but chose the smaller. She said she just liked it better. I never and I mean never have had a restful night's sleep in the larger room. My room. Most always I would end up sleeping in my sister's room or on the floor of my parents room or the living room I cannot pinpoint what it was about that room other than a strange dark spot on my ceiling it was right above my head and as I stared at it to fall asleep I swear it would slowly grow bigger an ominous feeling would grow and grow until I couldn't stand it anymore and would leave my room. Mind you, it would sometimes take hours for me to work up the courage to move. My bedroom also looked down a curved hallway to my parents' room, and as scary as it was to see

shapes moving in the dark hallway, hearing murmurs and whispers when everyone was asleep, the idea of shutting my door was more horrifying to me. I had a great dog. She was part coyote and part German Shepherd, so there was no human who would ever hurt me and live to tell. But she was also very sensitive to everyone's feelings around her. Many nights she would sit protectively in front of me and growl at seemingly thin air. She would stare and track things in the distance that no one else could see. She wore a jingly collar that could be heard all around the house. One time we had just gotten back from a week-long trip. I popped into the restroom and I left the door open because the bathroom is the second most unnerving room in the house to me. While I was on the toilet I saw my dog walk by the doorway. I could hear

her jingly call her and I called her to come back but she ignored me. I called a couple more times before I remembered that my dog was at my family member's house for the week since we were away. Chills rushed over me. When I brought it up to my parents and sister, they said they often had similar things happen to them too because our minds show us the things we expect to see. So maybe that's all it was, but I've never had a trick of the mind be so vivid before or since. I had various other weird things happen to me. Hearing my name called when no one else was home. Dreams accurately predicting step for step what would happen the next morning. Even strangers knocking on my windows in the night. But by far the scariest

things were the following too. I've never fully recounted what actually happened on these nights for fear of how crazy I would seem. I probably will never recount them again either. I was about ten years old. The day had not been anything unusual. I was getting along with my family just fine. Nothing bad had happened. We had just finished dinner and my mom had asked me to do the dishes.

I was standing at the sink, my hands in the warm soapy water humming a song when a chill raced down my spine. In a blink I felt a brick settle on my stomach and a deep heaviness through my limbs. It was like my blood had turned to syrup. I felt something cold in my ear. I don't think I heard it audibly but at least in my mind I heard, you could do it you know. No one would see it coming. I looked down and saw the large knife I was washing and a horrendous scene filled my mind. Even now I can't wrap my mind around it. I'm struggling to say it. I saw myself hurting my family, my parents. It was so easy, so quick. Who would expect someone so small to do something so evil? But I could do it if I wanted to. I didn't want to, but then,

did I? Why was I even thinking about these things? No, it was all so wrong. I was horrified and nauseous, but I couldn't let go of the knife. Inside, I was frantic, though if you were to look into the kitchen, you would have just seen a little girl in front of the sink, standing still. I kept trying to let go of the idea, to let go of the knife, but my hands and mind wouldn't. I heard more whispers, horrible, horrible things. After a few moments, I started quietly crying and

praying. Through clenched teeth I mustered out, in Jesus name I won't. And the knife finally fell from my hands back into the soapy water. I went and told my mom that I was about to throw up and couldn't finish the dishes. She was annoyed I'm sure but that was okay. I have never had such vile things come into my mind since that one time. It took a long time to come to peace with my role in this event but I truly believed that I was under the influence of something else. I was not that kind of kid and I knew even in the moment how insane and contradictory to my being it all was. Side note, my parents were really protective of me, so it wasn't like I was exposed to many negative things. I mean, my mom thought Willy Wonka would scare me.

That whole experience has messed with me for a very long time, but by God's grace and forgiveness, I have gotten through it. The next scariest night, I was about 14 or 15 years old. I want to be completely honest with you all. I was a very ill child. I was sick all the time. This night was no different. I was stuffy, runny, sneezy, and miserable. I took one Benadryl, and I had many times before with no side effects. I turned out my light to go to sleep but sleep never came. By this time my sister had moved out and I had moved into the smaller less uneasy room. I tossed and turned for about 30 minutes and ended up facing the wall my back to the room. Slowly and softly I started hearing an unintelligible chanting.

It grew louder and louder, sounding like a choir. I couldn't make out any words I recognized. I told myself it was all in my head, but then a hand gently moved my hair behind my ear exposing my bare neck. I froze in more fear than I ever knew I could feel. Loudly, there was one voice whispering over the rest in words I didn't know. I felt pressure on my shoulder, down my arm, and then the sway and curve of my hip like a long caress. I felt warm breath tumbling down my neck. Again, I started praying. The whole encounter felt evil and horrific. I worked up the courage to sit up and turn my lamp on. There was nothing there, but the voices continued. The chanting. I spent the night drawing, reading my bible, writing, anything to distract me from the chorus

of jumbled words, from thinking about what had been touching me, breathing on me, is one of my longest nights but eventually the words I was hearing faded as the sun started to come up and I slept that morning for an hour or two. When I told a very small portion of this to my parents we all agreed I must just be really sensitive to taking the Benadryl. That must be it right? But I've taken it since then and you know what happened? Nothing abnormal. No demon breath, no culty songs, no scary moments of any kind. So it was the sickness and the medicine, perhaps. A perfect storm for a night of misery or was it something else? I will never know and I probably don't want to. I have always been pretty intuitive. I am an INFJ for my Myers-Briggs friends and an empath.

Someone who can just naturally feel out places or people or situations in my gut. Now that I am older I trust that about myself instead of brushing it off. It scares me to think of what was around me in that house in those frightening times. I moved out when I was 17 and only went back to visit a handful of times in the next three years. Nothing scary happened but just a sense of uneasiness. When I was 20 my parents moved to a different house but while I was writing this I realized one last thing that happened right before they moved the last time I stepped foot in the house was Christmas of 2012 my husband and I spent the night there for the holiday

and that was the night that I miscarried our first child. terrains. Until May 31st, save up to $100 in rebates on select Toyo tires. Find a Toyo TreadExperts dealer near you at treadexperts.ca slash locations. From tires to auto repair, we're always there, treadexperts.ca. Back in May of 2012, when I was in my senior year of high school, my school joined up with another school for a trip to the UK. It was honestly the year of high school, my school joined up with another school for a trip to the UK. It was honestly the adventure of a lifetime but there was one night in Scotland that I cannot explain and I certainly will never forget. We had worked our way through England and into Scotland, toured around Edinburgh and went venturing north into the Scottish Highlands

where we would be spending a few days before returning to Glasgow to catch our flight back to Canada. It was really nice to be up there as up until this point in the trip we had been mostly exploring bustling cities and doing all the usual tourist activities of the UK so it was nice to spend a few days just relaxing and taking in the natural beauty of northern Scotland. The place our tour guide had picked out for us to stay was perfect. It was a resort in this absolutely beautiful valley which housed one of the many lakes in the area. Being the off season we pretty much had the place to ourselves and when we weren't out

exploring the surrounding countryside we would be playing soccer in this large field a little ways from the main hotel building or sitting around the fire pit talking about stupid teenager stuff. There was a girl from the other school that I had had my eye on ever since the trip began. Her name was Brooklyn. She was a tall skinny brunette with gorgeous eyes pretty much the most beautiful girl 17 year old me had ever seen. I really hadn't been able to get close to her yet as when we split off into groups for the day trips her and I never seemed to end up in the same one. Now that we were on a less structured schedule I figured this was my chance to get to know her. At first I tried the direct approach by sitting down next to her around the fire the first night and introducing myself.

She said hi but quickly just blew me off and went back to talking with her friends. Somewhat defeated I got up to go grab something from my room and rethink my strategy. I don't consider myself to be a terrible looking guy but compared to Brooklyn I may as well have been Gollum from Lord of the Rings so I knew I'd have to try extra hard to impress her. I was suddenly snapped out of my trance with her as I heard a shrieking sound at the window of my room. It sounded like a woman screaming and initially gave me goosebumps until I realized what it was. It sounded like the whistle of an old steam locomotive. I figured there must have been a heritage railway around here somewhere since the UK is full of them

but it was odd as I wouldn't have thought that they would run trains this late. I did remember seeing what I thought was a railway track on the other side of the field near the resort though so it wasn't too out of the ordinary. I quickly forgot about it and made my way back down to the fire and by this point a lot of other students had paired off into impromptu couples of the night. Fortunately for me Brooklyn was sitting by herself on a bench on the opposite side of the fire from most of the other kids. I sat back down next to her and tried to pluck up some courage to talk to her again after my previous failed attempt. She jumped a little as I said hi as if she hadn't even noticed me sit down. I apologized for startling her and asked if she was okay. She didn't reply but I could tell by the way she was looking at the guy across from her cuddled up with another girl that she wished it was her over there. We talked for a little bit

and then I asked her if she wanted to take a walk. I had remembered the railroad track I had seen earlier and figured it would be pretty romantic to take her out there and watch the midnight freight trains roll by. She somewhat begrudgingly agreed. I don't think she really wanted to go, but I guess she wanted an excuse not to think about her crush and another girl together. It was awkward at first trying to keep the conversation going as we walked, but she started warming up to me gradually as the night went on. We found a spot to sit by the railway tracks

and soon there was the distinctive rumble of an approaching train followed by the iconic two-tone air horn sound of British diesel locomotives. We sat there and watched the train slowly roll by and just as the last car disappeared around the corner, the clouds in the sky completely cleared, revealing the brightest full moon I'd ever seen. We sat for another hour and no more trains passed by. Brooklyn then mentioned that she was cold and I had to admit the temperature had seemed to drop significantly after the clouds had cleared so we began to get up when she grabbed me and said, What was that? I listened and far off in the distance distance I heard the same shrieking noise

that I had heard earlier. I was about to brush it off and tell her that it was just another train when it struck me that it was almost 1am at this point. The first time I had heard it was probably about 9.30 but there was no way a heritage railway was running a steam train this late into the night. I told her it was probably a coyote or something even though I have no idea if they have those in that part of Scotland or not and we began walking back along the tracks toward the road that led back to our resort. It was getting colder by the second it seemed which was really weird as the weather had been so warm just an hour ago and there wasn't a cloud in the sky to signal an impending storm. As we neared the embankment we had climbed down

from the road earlier I noticed that I could see my own breath in the night air. I turned to look at Brooklyn and she had noticed the same thing I had. Better get inside, I said. There's gotta be some bad weather coming. Truthfully, I had no idea what was going on, but it was the only reasonable thing I could think to say. Then the shrieking came again, and it was a lot closer this time. Brooklyn and I jumped and cowered together Scooby-Doo style for a second, which made us both chuckle a little bit at how on edge we were. Then we heard what sounded like rapid rapid deep breathing approaching us from behind. I turned around and saw a white cloud of steam maybe 500 feet down the tracks behind us. Emerging out of it was a blue steam locomotive pulling some extremely outdated looking freight

cars. I thought they didn't use steam trains anymore, Brooklyn said to me nervously. They don't. I quietly replied while keeping my eyes fixed on the train. Even though there was a fence between us and the tracks, I felt like we needed to get further away. But my morbid curiosity got the better of me and I walked a little bit closer to the tracks. I figured it's a train, it's not like it can come off the tracks and hurt me, right? Brooklyn stayed further back as I approached the fence. The train was approaching fast and the sound was getting louder. It was a beautifully decorated blue locomotive with the letters C-R painted on the tender on each side of what appeared to be

some kind of coat of arms. It let out a deafening shriek and the engineer waved his hat at us as the train passed by. We were also blasted with the coldest wind we had ever felt which made me finally retreat away from the train tracks. We began to run since we were now freezing and by the time Brooklyn and I had made it back up the hill to the road, there was no sign of the train anymore and the clouds were beginning to return as well as the warmth. When we got back to the resort, our tour guide was outside having a smoke. He asked us how our walk had been and we decided not to mention the mysterious train but we did mention that it had gotten cold when

the clouds cleared up. He looked at us funny and said it had been warm and overcast all night as far as he had noticed. Brooklyn and I said goodnight and went to our rooms. I stayed up a little while longer on my laptop trying to see if there were any local legends of ghost trains in the area. There were none which didn't surprise me. It didn't really strike me as a ghost train though as the peculiar thing about it was that it was so outdated and the sudden cold snap as it passed by. From my research I did uncover the CR stood for the Caledonian Railway and that the engine I had seen was an 812 class, which were built in the late 1800s and were used in the region up until the 1960s.

These locomotives were actually the basis for the characters of Donald and Douglas from the Thomas the Tank Engine TV show, and one of them, number 828, actually has survived into preservation and been restored to working condition. I don't think the restored engine is what I saw that night though. I doubt it would have been running that late at night and also number 828 was supposedly in England at the time according to Wikipedia. Plus, even if it was number 828, that still doesn't explain the cold snap it seemed to bring with it. I'm not one to jump to conclusions, but I believe what we saw that night was not from this world. I know that sounds insane, and trust me, it is, but I can't think of any other explanation. It wasn't transparent or spooky looking or anything like what you would have

expected a ghost to look like. It looked exactly like how I would imagine it had looked when it was still in service. So real and normal looking yet also very unsettling by its mere presence outside of its time period. I don't believe that the train or its crew has any malicious intent as the engineer seemed rather friendly as he waved to us. I believe it might be the spirits of the old railway men who used to ride on these rails back when steam power still ruled the world. Brooklyn just pretended the whole night never happened. I don't think it was out of fear of the possible ghost encounter but rather to stop rumors of us hooking up from spreading. Her and I did talk about it the next morning in private and she did admit to me that she had heard the whistle

shrieking again while she was laying in bed. It was unsuccessful in getting her number though so after we got back to Canada I never saw her again even though we only lived half hour apart. If you're ever in Scotland near a railway light at night and the clouds suddenly part and the temperature starts to fall, be on the lookout for a blue Caledonian steam locomotive and its crew as they ride into the night delivering their cargo to a destination likely beyond our world. This happened to me about 13 years ago when I was 16 years old. I remember staying overnight at a hotel and casino with my mom. It was on a random weekday night and the hotel was pretty quiet.

We just shopped all day and had something good to eat before going up to the room for the night. As soon as we got in we realized we forgot to get drinks before going back to the room. I had to go back downstairs and get them by myself. I got what I needed from downstairs and quickly got into the elevator to go back to the room. As soon as I got in the elevator one lone man stepped in. He looked like he was in his 40s dressed in plain dark clothes wearing a baseball cap. I could feel him stare at me from the other side of the elevator and he broke the silence with, are you a teacher? I tried not to engage with him but answered back politely No, I'm not old enough to be a teacher Then the man replied

Oh, because there's a teacher's convention going on and there's a lot of teachers around tonight I thought that was strange because the hotel would usually be very busy and have a lot going on if there was a teacher conference going on Then the man said I'm actually a director and I'm making a movie in the area. I just gave a simple, oh, cool, reply back as I tried to keep to myself. The elevator finally stopped at the floor that seemed like it was his. He was about to leave the elevator but he stopped suddenly, turned towards me and asked, would you like a glass of wine? I gave a stern, no thank you. At this point I started to get

nervous. The man kind of stood in the doorway of the elevator with hesitant body language and a hesitant look on his face and then he asked, are you sure? I backed up and held my finger over the door close button. I gave him a firm, yes, I am sure. He finally got out and started walking away but suddenly he slowed down and looked over his shoulder at me in the elevator. He hesitated and seemed like he wanted to go back in the elevator. I could tell by the look in his face, his body language, and the way he kept hesitating that he was contemplating doing something sinister. It took me a while to realize how sketchy this situation really was. There wasn't any teacher

convention going on that I knew of. He knew I must have been pretty young if I was not old enough to be a teacher. He could have been telling people he was a director to impress and lure women. And yeah, he could have been a director for some sort of seedy movie happening in one of the hotel rooms. Whatever that man was up to that night, I thank God he decided not to go through with it. This happened back in 2005. My ex and I were still together at this point, and we had an apartment in a six-unit building. We were on the second floor, only one door to enter or leave.

One afternoon, my then-husband wanted to go over to the university campus to hang out at their library and check email and such and asked if I wanted to come with him. I said no, I had a paper I had to write for a class and needed to get that done. He left and I started getting settled in to do some writing when I hear the door open and shut again and I thought he'd forgotten something and had come back as he was only gone a handful of minutes. I had my back to the door so I just assumed it was him. I asked, that was the shortest track to campus and back, everything okay? I didn't get an answer so I turned around and it wasn't my partner standing there but the neighbor who lived across the hall from us standing in front of my door, the only means of escape I had.

We live on the second floor and I'm not about to go jump out of a window should he try to tackle me. I'm only 5'2 and this guy is easily 6'3 and no slouch. In other words, he could take me down pretty easily. I snapped at him. What do you think you're doing in my apartment, Jasper? This guy has a serious schizoaffective disorder that requires heavy-duty medication. He'd been off his meds for some time and our landlord was his carer. When it was time for his monthly shot he'd disappear for a while thinking he'd avoid getting the dose. All he said to me was I just want a

cigarette. My partner was a smoker more than I was but I wasn't going to pilfer his smokes to give this guy anything. I just wanted him gone. He was fairly harmless for the most part but he made me quite nervous because he is known for busting out all his windows out of his apartment in a psychotic rage one night and subsequently did the same with the neighbors below him. So you can understand why I didn't want to engage him. I snapped on him that he needed to leave or I was calling the landlord. He repeated himself again and I again told him as I was reaching for the phone. I'm going to ring the landlord if you don't get out of my apartment now. He took off and we didn't see much of him after that.

Ever since that afternoon I keep my door locked at all times unless I know someone's on their way over and will be here shortly so they can just come on in but they know to announce themselves. I ended up moving out of that apartment as soon as I could. So around this time last year I was walking through the local 24 hour supermarket at 2am. My boyfriend had decided he would like a bath so I offered to go out and grab some girly stuff for him. Think bubbles, candles, face masks. I was perusing the soaps when a guy came uncomfortably close behind me and whispered, I love your hair. I had bright pink hair at the time and often got compliments or disapproving stares so I just

nervously laughed and said thanks before moving to a different aisle. I thought it was creepy but it was 2am on a Saturday so I assumed he was drunk or whatever and moved on. I noticed him kind of following me around the shop but put it down to him needing the same stuff as me as I'd gone to get chocolates and sours, typical Friday night stuff. As I'm walking to the self checkouts a hand reaches out of the aisles next to me and tugs me round by the hood. I'm face to face, less than 10 centimeters away from the guy and he absolutely stank of weed. I panic, my arms are full and I don't want to drop and smash the bottle of alcohol I picked up so I just froze. You're a little young to be buying

alcohol don't you think? I just mumbled something back terrified. Maybe I should buy it for you. We can go sit in my van and have a drink yeah? I notice one of his hands on the one that isn't holding my shoulder looks like he's getting something out of his back pocket. Then a screwdriver is being pointed at my face. I have tears starting to well up and I'm on the verge of a panic attack when, like an angel, Brian tackles the guy. Brian works nights on the customer service desk and he's known me since I was born. Not like a close family friend but enough to care about me. Brian has the guy on the floor and tells me he's called the police.

He says they got it all on camera and I can just take my stuff and go. He'll sort it out with the managers. I left, thoroughly shaken up. I put all my stuff in my bag and call my boyfriend to meet me halfway when I walk back. I spoke to Brian again about two weeks later and he said the guy was on parole and ended up back in prison as well as being permanently banned from that store. When I was about 7 years old I lived in a medium sized brick house at the entrance of a fairly normal suburban neighborhood.

The neighborhood itself was fine. There were a lot of kids and the neighbors were nice. There was never any trouble and everyone got along, which is why I'm so surprised something so horrifying almost happened to me right in my front yard. It was a normal Saturday morning and my mom was out mowing the lawn. She had finished mowing the biggest portion of our front yard. I came outside and sat down in the grass and played with some of my toys since it was so nice out. One thing about this house was that there were two giant bushes at the entrance of the driveway, big enough for a person to hide behind without being seen. My mom was behind one of the bushes picking sticks out from

around it so she could mow. As she was doing that a man with grey hair and a baseball cap came walking by. When he saw me he stopped and started talking to me. We were so far away enough from my mom that if she was zoned out or focused on one thing, she wouldn't have even acknowledged us. And the man couldn't see her from behind the bush so he thought I was all alone. He starts talking to me, asking me what my name was, what I was doing, how my day was. Seemingly normal questions. But as he's doing so, he starts slightly inching towards me from where he was walking on the side of the road. I noticed it but it didn't bother me that much. We were talking and I guess my mom must have finally noticed I was talking to someone because she began walking out from behind the bush and

over toward me. She started talking to the guy and he backed up on the side of the road since he had wandered a few inches into our yard. They were talking and one thing I picked up on the side of the road since he had wandered a few inches into our yard. They were talking and one thing I picked up on even as a kid was how my mom seemed rather uncomfortable, like she didn't want to be talking to this guy and my mother has always been a very social person. The guy continued on with his walk and I didn't see him again after that. My mom let me stay outside but had me play closer to the house. About a week later, my best friend's mom texted me and told her that some guy had just gotten out of prison and had moved to our neighborhood. Due to the things that he was in for, she told my mom to keep a good eye on me and my brothers from now on. Then she sent her a picture

of the guy so she knew who to look for. It was the same guy that had been talking to me a week ago. My mom was horrified and told me that if I see that man again to stay away from him. When I asked why, she said that he's done some very bad things. When I was younger I didn't understand but now I do and it scares me to think what this guy would have done or tried to do if my mom wasn't there with me. We don't live there anymore and I don't know what became of that man but I just hope that he never got what he wanted and I warn anyone reading this, stranger danger is rung into our ears for a reason. Please, be careful. If it's a flat or a squeal, a wobble or peel, your tread's worn down or you need a new wheel,

wherever you go, you can get it from our tread experts. Toyo's open country family of tires will get you through tough weather in a variety of terrains. Until May 31st, save up to $100 in rebates on select Toyo tires. Find a Toyo tread experts dealer near you at treadexperts.ca slash locations. From tires to auto repair, we're always there at treadexperts.ca. My parents split when I was about 14. It wasn't a good breakup. My dad was abusive and an addict, so when my mom left him, she was in a really bad place. Her and my older sister, sister was in her 20s and in full-blown party mode,

kept taking her to local bars since my mom was depressed. This led my mom to becoming an alcoholic since my sister was well on her way to becoming one too. During one of these nights she met a guy. I didn't know much about him, just that they met him and his brother at a bar and now she was dating him. It went pretty fast and my sister would flirt with the brother to get free food and drinks from him. Around this time I was about 15 and this dude just seemed off. He was probably early 40s or so and he was always going on my mom's dates with his brother.

He just kind of hung around a lot. One day my sister decided she wanted sushi and called up the brother to take us because she knew he would pay. I did not want to go but we didn't have food in the house and I was hungry. We didn't have a sushi place in our town so we had to drive to the city which was about 30 minutes away. The entire ride I just had this warning feeling in my stomach that kept telling me to get out of the car, that this was a bad idea. I was a giant ball of anxiety the whole 30 minutes. My sister sat in the front seat completely oblivious to what was happening. Meanwhile, I kept catching him staring at me in the rearview mirror. Once we got to the restaurant, he sat himself down and directly across from me. He wanted to sit next to me,

but I just rushed to sit next to my sister instead. It was awkward but my sister talked a lot so I was able to kind of hide. Eventually she got up to go to the bathroom and then I was alone with him. Almost immediately he asked me if I had a boyfriend and I said no. That's good he. "'You're too good for high school boys. "'They're only after one thing.' "'I just nodded, not knowing what to say. "'He then went on to ask if I liked Disneyland, and I said yes. "'He got excited and went on about how he would take me, "'but hotels were expensive, so we'd have to share a room.

"'It would just be S, so my mom and his brother could be alone. "'He said my sister couldn't come, though, "'because he couldn't afford to pay for both of us to go. At this point I was extremely uncomfortable and I just wanted my sister to come back. She finally did and he switched to just talking to her. She didn't notice anything was wrong or that he kept looking at me. Once we finished, he took us home and invited himself in. I went to my room, locked the door, and hid. At one point, someone tried to open the door, but they stopped once they felt it was locked. My mom and her boyfriend came home around then.

I tried talking to my sister, but she brushed me off. They had invited us back to their house and I wanted so badly to stay home but they forced me to go. Almost immediately my mom and her boyfriend went to the room and left my sister and I with him. He got my sister drunk pretty fast and tried to get me to drink but I kept refusing. It got to the point where my sister was almost blacked out drunk and I was freaking out because once she passed out it would just be us. I started texting my brothers hoping one of them would pick me up. Thank god my eldest brother responded. I told him what was happening and he came to get me. He showed up and told the guy that it was late and I had school so he was taking me home.

He tried to protest but my brother was very firm about it. He loaded my sister into the car, texted my mom he was taking us home and then we left. My brother didn't live with us since he was about 30 at the time and had his own family so he didn't know what was going on. I told him the full story and he got real quiet and then waited till my mom got home. He told her off and shamed her for putting me in that situation and told her that if it continued he would move me into his house. My mom broke down then and told me she wanted to break up with her boyfriend because of his brother and I found out when I was older that he would sneak by the door to listen to them

when they were getting intimate. I think more happened, but my mom had never talked about it more than that. She broke up with him, got a good job, and sobered up with the help of my brother. It took my sister a lot longer, but she eventually got her life together as well. A few years ago I worked at a small local pet store during college. I was one of two women who worked there and we didn't generally work at nights together. This store kind of specializes in saltwater fish and reptiles in particular. So it wasn't too odd to have newbie reptile or aquarium people or people looking to just learn some more before actually getting a little companion. About a year into me working there, this one man would come in and start asking questions about the bearded dragons in particular. I humored him the first couple of times he came in and answered his

questions for about an hour and a half to two hours each time he came in. But then he just kept coming in, not buying anything, not looking at other animals, refused to talk to my other co-workers standing right next to me. He was definitely a dude with a creepy vibe but after about the third time this guy came in and questioned me about bearded dragon mating habits for an hour, we all started getting uncomfortable. He knew my schedule because we were such a small store. I would call my friends and tell them to come hang at the shop while he was there because he was just so persistent about talking to me and only about the bearded dragons with the occasional do you have a boyfriend or pick up line. I told him I wasn't interested each time and told him I had a boyfriend even though I didn't. At first, we were all pretty forgiving, chalking it up to social awkwardness.

But it started getting scary when he'd come in, look for me, not find me but he'd find my car, with significant damage at the time and decorated, very obviously my car back then, and just hang out outside the shop. My boss and managers started telling me to hide out in our back employee's only rat mouse room when he'd come in. My friends were weirded out. I was getting uncomfortable around him and my co-workers were actively trying to curb his enthusiasm for coming in. I ended up quitting that job. Around a month later, I'm watching the news with my dad and, oh buddy, we were in for a surprise.

This same guy had been escorted off of his ex's property in a local town by police, came back to the house the same night, and murdered her. When she didn't show up for work, her co-workers called for a welfare check. Police get there. He answers the door and tells them his name is Zeus. It most definitely was not his real name. Let's the police in and they found her in the bathtub on a tarp. They also found bloody plates, silverware, and pans in her sink. He had cooked and eaten parts of her. Parts of her heart, liver, and brain. He's still waiting for trial in our state,

and his interview and clips of news people questioning him while the police are escorting him to court are just bonkers. He tried to claim demonic possession at one point. He had previously murdered two people and had been released from prison before moving to our area. Trust your instincts about the people we interact with. People are just wild. Here in South Africa, we're in lockdown right now. I meant to travel for work to Santa Barbara, but since we're under lockdown, we can't go anywhere. So I'm an entrepreneur with a tech startup here, and since I travel mostly, I make use of the Regis co-working space for a hot desk or meeting room.

It's quite flexible. There's always coffee and pretty girls coming in and out. Since the virus broke out, however, I saw Regis as a public or corporate office with many people coming in and out, therefore I was now stuck with no office. A buddy of mine told me he has an entire unused area at his house behind some offices. I would be alone. I'd have my own kitchen, lounge, TV, bathroom, etc. The catch? I would have to park on the road. So let me explain the way the road is. It's a wide, steepish road with a massive park and zoo on the left with three entrances and parking and houses and businesses on the right. I use this road quite often to go to Florida Road, a popular bar and food district. There's only streetlights on the houses and businesses side. As there was a red line or no parking line alongside the road on the right and left,

I had to park outside the park. So I park in the first parking nearest to the building I was working at. It wasn't near, but I still had to work a few meters. I've attached the Google Street View here, the first parking spaces where my car was parked, on the left side of the road and the office was a building way down the road on the right. The story takes place one night before the lockdown. I had a call with a company in Denver, Colorado which I had to start at 6pm SAST. It went well and I decided to pack up and leave. I wore formal shoes and carried my laptop on my back. Being paranoid, before I left, I looked on the CCTV before opening the gate. Didn't see anyone outside. I then proceeded

to buzz myself out, lock up and walk out. I don't know how but in the time it took for me to walk from the building to the gate, a man appeared. He seemed drunk or high and just hanging around against the fence on the side of the road my car was, wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the hoodie down, torn brownish jeans and sneakers. I started walking and looked down, keeping track of him from the corner of my eye. Mine was the only car left so I would assume he knew that was mine. As I got closer to my car I noticed him starting to walk out toward me. I ignored it. He was still walking diagonally trying to cut me off. He then said, as he was maybe 5 meters away,

let me help you with your bag. Now, I had a comfortable laptop backpack on, I was walking hands free, and yet he asked to help me with my bag. In South Africa, car guards usually help you with your grocery bags and expect a 5 or 10 czar tip, but not this guy. This guy knew what I was doing, where I was going, and what I was carrying. To make matters worse, he had his left hand in his hoodie pocket and was now walking faster. It all went down in a split second. He suddenly lunged at me, but being a football player, I feigned left and went right. In that split second, I thought if I ran to my car, which was still another 10-15 meters away, I would have surely not made it. I'm fast, but fumbling my keys, opening the door, getting in, I didn't seem confident.

So I made the decision of jumping the fence into the now dark park. I made it with one leap over, albeit slower since my laptop backpack kept bouncing on my back. As soon as I hit the ground, I took my laptop bag off, held it in my hand and ran. I looked for a dark spot to hide so I ended up behind a massive tree in the park. There are a few of them but it was the only one that didn't have a light hitting it. I heard him running and slurring his words and saying something like, just give me the bag. So my car was on the other side of the tennis court. If I could get to the tennis court, sneak around that and run to my car, I would make it.

But there was a lit open space between this tree and the tennis court, and he was running straight through that space. I watched the angle of him running, and slowly rounded the tree to keep myself out of his line of sight. I honestly think him being high helped me immensely here, as he ran straight past and toward the other side of the park. When he was a distance away, which couldn't have been more than 20 meters, I made a break for it.

Not being quiet now, I pushed away every branch and leaf which he heard and turned around and saw. I burst around the tennis court, stupid cause I should have just went back the way I came. I turned around and saw him yelling and running back at me, stumbling every now and then but picking up the pace and actually gaining on me. I could see he had a knife and it was out now. I puffed my way up the hill, opened the car and jumped in. I locked the door with my laptop on my lap and started my car. When I looked back at the darkness, he was gone. He must have slunk back into the park when I was out of range. But where? I didn't wait to find out. I skidded and drove out of there. I won't say I won't work there again. I would. But definitely next time, I'll be taking an Uber.

This story happened to me and my girlfriend, now fiancé. To give some context, she and I met online in 2015 and fell in love. We communicated via Skype for three years before we lived in separate countries until I came to live with her in February 2018. So a few weeks or so before I flew to meet her, she had made friends with a group of guys in her hometown and I got to meet them shortly after living with her. They ranged in age from 16 to 18 and they would come to visit us very often because we lived close to the high school they attended. At first, I found it a bit weird that they would always come over and take up so much of our time, but they turned out to be really good friends over time. One of them even agreed to be one of my groomsmen recently. But back then, there was one in particular that always bugged me.

Dan. As I mentioned earlier, the guys would come and visit and hang out with us a lot, but Dan was the one that would always take up most of our time. I say this in the sense that he would message us early almost every day, asking if we were home and if he could come over and would proceed to spend almost the entire day from morning to night or early afternoon to night depending on his work schedule at our place. He would also go out of his way to meet us and bump into us wherever we went, whether it was at the store, a coffee shop, or any other place you could think of. While I found this annoying, there wasn't anything particularly creepy or weird going on yet. Mind you, we live in a small town where it's almost impossible not to run into someone you know on the way to buy groceries or something like that. Plus, I had only known him for about as long as my fiancé had known him, which wasn't a very long time, so I thought I was maybe judging him too harshly.

Also, he was in a long distance relationship with a girl from another country whom he was hoping to meet in real life just like me, so I could at least relate to him on that aspect. I decided to let it slide but made a note to keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior. The problem seemed to start once he also started trying to incorporate himself into other aspects of our life. He would make friends with anyone we'd been friends with for a long time, tag along with us whenever we were going to meet up with said friends, even though he hadn't been invited, hang out with them without us knowing, etc. My favorite instance, and the one that made me become more suspicious with him, was one time when we were going to hang out with some long-time friends of my fiancee. As the friend had finished her shift and we were getting ready to get into the

car to drive over to her place, Dan suddenly shows up and joins us to their place uninvited. It was just so off-putting that he would just invite himself over without our friends or even our permission. Then, when we were done there and walking home, the three of us passed his house. We lived further away at the time and assumed he'd go home, but nope. He kept tagging along with us with the excuse that he needed to buy something at the store, which was nonsense since all stores had been closed for over an hour and he knew it. So, he kept walking with us until at one point when we were almost home, we put our foot down and told him that we were tired and just wanted to go to sleep as soon

as we got home and told him to go home. It took us 10 minutes to convince him, during which he would react to our requests with awkward and creepy silences until we finally headed home, annoyed. My fiancé, concerned that she had offended him, asked if he wanted to hang out with us later in the week. What followed was various weeks of him coming over to our place, staying until late at night and him slowly leaving more and more of his stuff at our place so he'd have an excuse to come over. I kid you not, he once brought over his PS3 with a bag of 30 or so games which stayed there for three months. I got to the point where people thought he'd moved in with us. He also seemed to have problems with all of our friends.

Among other things, he would get into arguments with our friends and told one of our friends who was goofing around at our place once that he'd kill him if he didn't shut up. He lied to us and made us believe that two good friends of ours wanted to report us to the police for drugging our friend. I mentioned this earlier that some of them were 16 at the time. He allegedly hit one of our friend's girlfriends once. This was never confirmed but I have no reason to believe it's a lie, etc. It was like he wanted us all to himself and to isolate us from our friends. The last thing he did which ended up being the key to us getting rid of him forever was that he had started dating my fiancé's cousin, MJ. He broke up with his long distance girlfriend under suspicious circumstances and started dating her.

As a result, whenever MJ came to visit, Dan would come along as well. My fiancé wanted to hang out with MJ, there was Dan. Even when he was dating someone else, his obsession with us never ended. One day, when we were in town, we met another friend of ours and Dan insisted that we hang out with that guy all day when we'd already agreed to do something else. When we refused, he and MJ ditched us to be with him and that was when we'd had enough. We got into a huge fight later that day in the park with some of our friends as witnesses and told him off, telling him we wanted nothing to do with him anymore and to pack up his stuff and to never show his face at our place again. This unfortunately resulted in my fiancé and MJ not

talking to each other for a long time. We had to move a few times since then, the most recent being February of last year, and we never saw him and blocked him on all social media and blocked him out of our lives. We know from friends that he tried a few times to ask around where we live, but our friends always have our backs and don't tell him. MJ and my fiance recently made up after she dumped him and now that the sour taste he left behind is for the most part gone, it goes without saying that we never want to see him again. Now a few questions that people had had. People have asked if he had parents or what his home life was like and whether this might have affected his behavior. He does have parents and I have no idea what his home life was like. All I know from friends and hearsay is that apparently he has violent tendencies and that his family had to move

from his hometown in the past because he had been accused of assaulting a teenage girl. I don't know if it's true or not but considering considering what we've discussed here, I wouldn't rule it out. He can also be manipulative and tries to use people to get what he wants. He was 18 when we first met him and should be 20 by now. We found out recently that he moved out of his parents' house and got his own place. Some people have considered the possibility that he might have been in love or obsessed with my girlfriend. While I wouldn't rule it out, it was after talking to my fiancé's cousin that we figured another possible explanation. Dan loves to talk about cars and he found out that my father-in-law likes to collect vintage cars and that he'd recently got his hands on a vintage highway patrol police car. As I mentioned,

he tries to use people to get what he wants and he figured if he could get along with us well enough, he'd get a chance to ride shotgun with him or even borrow the car. There was no chance that that would happen though, since daddy-in-law treats that car like his own son and would never let anyone else drive it. And to the people commenting on how weird it is that we were hanging out with 16-18 year olds. Well first of all, yes we do have lots of friends our own age and we do hang out plenty with them as well. I'll admit I found it weird myself at first when they would always come over and want to hang out with us and was concerned about whatever rumors might start floating around. But the more I got to know them, the more I understood that they were pretty down to earth overall. Yeah they could goof around a bit when we were hanging out but for the most, they're surprisingly mature for their age.

Also, they would always ask first if they could come over, and they trusted us enough to confide in us with whatever was on their mind. Their parents know us and trust us as well, and they didn't feel the need to keep it a secret that they were friends with us. One friend's mom had recently died of cancer at the time, and we found out from his father that he seemed happier and less depressed about it whenever he came home after spending time with us. Besides, we like to consider our home a safe space where anyone is welcome regardless of age, gender, race, etc. And while in hindsight that might have been part of the reason why someone like Dan slithered his way into our lives, as long as you're respectful and kind, we wouldn't have it

any other way. This incident happened to me over the Christmas holiday this past year and it just occurred to me that the sheer insanity of it may make it for a good fit for this sub. For reference, I'm a 24 year old female. My cousin and I decided to go up a few hours north for a nice winter cabin weekend. It went great, nothing creepy at all. On our final day we packed up at 6am and hopped in the car to get an early start on the 5 hour drive we had ahead of us. It was a foggy morning, not actively snowing but previous snowfalls had piled up quite a bit making the drive a little risky on the dark early hours of the morning. My cousin was driving and we're chatting and listening to podcasts not too aware of our

surroundings. We were about 20 minutes into the drive when, unfortunately, the car skidded off the road a little, freaking black ice, and we very slightly grazed a tree. We got out to take a look and by some miracle there was no damage or anything on the car. As my cousin and I started to laugh with relief, we were just thanking our luck, I shield my eyes because of some idiot with crazy high beams coming up behind us. So obnoxious, my cousin laughed, starting to open her door to step back in when the blinding headlight car honks and continues to keep at it as they approached us. My cousin and I looked at each other, super confused but quickly hop back in the car. The car begins to slow down and we're able to see a man in the driver's seat and he finally takes his hand off of his horn and pulls up right next to my cousin's car, which is really dumb because we're off road and it was crazy slippery.

He rolls down his window and motions for my cousin to roll down ours. We figure it's fine because he's still inside his car and we're in ours. I know, probably still a stupid move. Hey there, ladies. In a rush this morning. He laughs. Uh, not really, just trying to get home. Can we help you with something?

My cousin replies, totally stone cold poker face. Oh no, I just noticed you dropped something about two kilometers back. It fell out of your trunk. My cousin turned to look at me. Did you shut the trunk when we left? Yeah dude, obviously. I replied, and knowing the way the car is shaped, we would have seen and definitely heard an open trunk. No thanks sir, I think he might have mixed us up with somebody.

My cousin said and immediately rolled up her window. This man just gave off bad vibes. He started blaring his horn again and motioning for us to roll down the window. My cousin rolls it down again and sees him holding up some women's underwear and smiling. See? Look familiar? I can literally remember the exact tone with which he said that. No thanks sir, you have a great day. My cousin quickly rolled up her window again and floored it, quickly hopping back on the road and thankfully the man was either taken aback or just gave up and we didn't see him for the next hour or so. My cousin and I were both a little shaken up but tried to laugh it off since we were safe and hadn't seen his car following us or anything. About two hours into our trip we got off at an exit to fill up gas and grab some breakfast at a Starbucks. My cousin and I mobile ordered and I

was going to quickly run in to grab our food and drinks. It had started snowing at this point and while the sun had been up for a little bit, it was still foggy and gloomy making it hard to see the surroundings. I ran in and as I reached for our food, someone's arm reached over mine to grab a napkin and I instantly flinched back. When I looked up, I truly almost soiled myself. It was the guy from earlier. Despite him never getting out of the car, he did have his lights on and I was able to get a clear view of his face. It was him, I was sure. Look at us, just like old friends.

He smiled at me. I immediately looked down, grabbed my phone and started walking out of the store. As I left, I heard him talking to the barista saying, ''See that beauty queen? That's my beauty queen.'' What? I almost had tears in my eyes because I was so terrified. I power walked back to the car, almost tripping outside because I was so scared and not walking

like a normal person. I hopped in and screamed, we need to get back on the road. He's inside the Starbucks. My cousin started laughing thinking I was pranking her but she quickly realized that was not the case when the man walked out of the Starbucks a few seconds later with no drink or food in his hand walking straight towards our car waving at us. My cousin quickly started to turn the car on when the man reached into his pocket. I genuinely thought he would pull out a weapon, holding up the underwear he had from before. Thankfully my cousin took no time in backing

out of there and speeding back onto the highway. We both were freaking out at this point, not sure how he ended up at the same stop at us despite us not seeing him behind us at all. It could have taken some sort of back roads we didn't know about but it would have taken him much longer than us to get there. Unless he was trailing behind, I don't know. We quickly tried to find an alternate route on our maps app and thankfully there was one that made us go through some local roads which we hoped might help. Of course with our luck, as we were going through a smaller town, I felt the car getting gradually lower on my side. We pulled over at a well lit gas station and realized we were losing air in one of the tires. We were both too scared to get out but figured if we went together it might be less scary.

So we did. We filled up the tire with some air and it seemed to be okay. We got back in the car, back on our way. Everything seemed to be fine until ten minutes later when this car seemed to appear out of nowhere directly behind us. My cousin and I looked at each other having no idea what to do if it were the man. Our suspicions were confirmed when he blared his stupid horn yet again, then quickly swerved off the road to get right next to us, so this time he was on my side. He had his window rolled down and was screaming at us. At this point, I didn't care and called my brother-in-law who's

a cop. I know I should have called the actual police directly and it was a stupid move but in the moment, I was trying to justify this as being not that serious. My brother-in-law told us to drive directly to the nearest police station and to call them right away so that they would be alert. Literally as he was instructing me, the creep braked his car, just skid to a stop on the side of the snowy icy road. We were still speeding away so it quickly got harder and harder to see him, but from what I could make out, he had gotten out of his car and was sitting on the hood. Just sitting on the hood of his car in freezing snowy weather.

My cousin and I didn't want to stop to do anything with about an hour left in our journey. We decided just to book it straight home and thankfully that was the end of that. Our house has a basement crawl space that's only accessible from outside, through a door directly underneath my bedroom window and about 10 feet from the bottom of the steps leading up to the back deck. It's a fairly large space, dirt floor and concrete walls, clean and plenty big enough for a grown man to stand up in. Until recently it was half full of junk, mostly from our kitchen renovation, like paint cans and equipment and extra floor tiles and such, and had a padlock on it. We asked our yard guy to do some extra work that included cleaning it completely out and when it was empty we didn't bother putting the lock

back on. It has a sliding bolt on it that keeps it closed in addition to the little loop thingy that you put the padlock on so we just slid in the bolt and called it good. There was absolutely nothing in it so no point in locking it. A couple of weeks ago my boyfriend was out on the back deck emptying the recycling bins and noticed the door open. Someone would have had to have opened it. The sliding bolt is a bit rusty and wouldn't easily come open and certainly wouldn't have opened on its own. He went and checked it out. Nobody there. Still completely empty. He thinks, well, okay. Someone was poking around and didn't find anything interesting but

he did tell me about it and reminded me to keep the doors locked when he isn't home. A few days after that I had the dog outside and he ran straight to the door and started sniffing and scratching at it and I noticed that it was slightly open again. I opened it, went inside and walked around. Nobody there. Let me add here that we have a lot of trees and wildlife on our property, including raccoons and groundhogs in addition to tons of squirrels. We have our huge oak tree that overhangs the roof covering the master bedroom, so it's nothing unusual to hear squirrels and other animals on the roof with their little pattering feet and scratching sounds. Yesterday I was here alone, laying in bed reading a book, the house completely silent. Usually the dog will lay in bed with me, but he was fidgety acting.

He was pacing and just acting really weird. I was hearing the usual late afternoon squirrels or whatever on the roof, but when I hear a noise that is clearly the crawlspace door creaking open. It's directly underneath the window to my right so I stand up and creep over to the window, crack the shades a tiny bit to peek out and I see a man starting up the steps to the back deck having just exited the crawlspace. Immediately my heart drops. I drop the shades and headed up the hall directly to the door he was heading for to confront him. At that same moment my dog went nuts barking and beat me to the door but he was nowhere in sight when I got there. I only saw him

through the window for a second and I only saw him from the back as he was heading up the steps. He was wearing a ball cap so I couldn't even have said what color his hair was. I'm guessing the dog scared him away but what was he doing walking up on my porch in broad daylight with someone obviously home if he hadn't planned on knocking the door? And no one would knock on that door anyway. People come to the front to knock, not walk all the way out back in the trees in the backyard. I waited a few minutes then got my pepper spray out of my purse and went to investigate. Sure enough the crawlspace door was open again, no one inside. When my boyfriend got home he put

the padlock back on it, then he got my gun out of the safe where it's been for years and insisted I keep it under the mattress on my side of the bed. I only agreed to that after he loaded it with rat shot because I don't think I could actually shoot a human being not even in self-defense and rat shot won't do much more than scare someone with the noise of the shot. He was mad at me that I went by myself into the basement to check things out but I'm more angry than frightened. I don't know if I'm overreacting that just because someone has been inside the basement a few times

I automatically assumed that the man I saw was responsible and that he meant harm. I'm fairly certain he did come from there though, because I definitely heard the door open just seconds before I saw him on the steps. With it locked up now though, if someone had been routinely in and out, that will stop. Like I said, I just don't know if I'm freaking out over nothing. I'm keeping my doors locked, just in case. But what? What do you think? This happened back in 2004 in northern Wisconsin. I was 16 at the time and out deer hunting with my dad and a friend of his, Frank. I do remember this day like it was

yesterday though. The dialogue isn't word for word but the idea of it is 100% accurate and as a side note, it was one day after 8 people were shot less than 2 hours away. I've linked the murder below. My dad and I had a few different stands over an area of maybe 3 4ths square mile. He had been hunting there for at least 10 years and I had been going with him since I was 5. Up until I was 12, legal age to hunt with a rifle in my area, I had just been tagging along. This particular morning we walked to my stand first. It was about 5am so still dark outside. I got situated and my dad and Frank went off to our other two stands over a ridge,

maybe another 500-600 yards off. Sitting there in the dark is always a little eerie. Not long after my dad and Frank left I see a flashlight from the general direction of where they headed maybe 200 yards away roughly moving my direction. I figured they forgot something from the trunk or something so I radioed to see what they were doing. We're sitting in my stand. Frank is about to head to another one. He says. Obviously this flashlight is someone else. This isn't super uncommon and isn't really a big deal. Those woods get crowded sometimes and there is a spot to park in that general direction. I turn on my light so that the other hunter can see that there is someone there. He stops. I see the light turn and go a different direction.

No big deal and I end up dozing off while it's still dark out. When I wake up the sun is up it's around 8am. I sit there for a bit and radio my dad to see if he has heard or seen anything moving. Nothing yet, a couple of gunshots off in the distance is all he says. I get up and go for a slow little walk to get my blood moving a bit Not far, maybe 30 yards out and back Trying not to make a sound I come back to my stand, sit down and take a real good look around Nothing really going on I finally look out to my left where I had seen the flashlight before and see orange

For anyone unfamiliar, hunters have to wear blaze orange during gun season. I radio my dad and Frank to see if either one of them were moving around and dad says no. I hear nothing from Frank. I grab the binoculars out of my backpack to see if it's Frank. It's definitely not. This guy is looking at me through a scope, rifle aimed directly at me. This is a huge no-no. Massive rule we all learn in hunter's education to never point your rifle at someone you don't intend to shoot. Dumb people still do it though. It's few and far between but it happens and this is why normal people use binoculars. My first thought, what a freaking idiot. Thing is, even with me looking at him, he doesn't put his gun down. Now, I'm starting to panic, thinking I'm going to be the next hunting murder victim. I slowly grab my rifle,

get up, staying behind as many trees as I can and walk down a little path to the side of my stand. My stand was on this kind of little knoll on the side of a much larger hill. Radio my dad, tell him what's up. He tells me to sit tight and stay out of sight. Obviously, as a 16-year-old, I couldn't do that and had to keep looking. Every time I looked, the guy was still aiming my direction, but was always standing in a different spot. Like I would look, go back to hiding, look again,

and he would be 30 yards from where he was the last time. About 10 minutes of this goes by when my dad radios me. How you doing, bud? Looking back, he was very obviously trying to keep me calm. At the time, I thought he just wasn't taking me seriously. He's still there, but he keeps moving. I don't know what his problem is. Dad told me to just keep hidden and he'll figure it out, that he'll be coming up near him in a minute or two. That's when I hear the shot. I lost my mind trying to get a hold of my dad. Did he just get shot? Where is he? Did he have to shoot the guy? What's going on? I sit there for maybe two

to three minutes that felt like hours. Alright, come on out and head toward my stand. I peek up over the little knoll I was behind and see my dad waving from along the ridge the random guy had been on. I make the track on over to him and see what happened. Turns out Frank was feeling a little restless and took a little stroll and ended up on the other side of that particular ridge the stranger was on, not knowing he was there. He had knocked his radio battery loose while he was getting situated earlier in the morning and had no idea anything was even going on. The shot I heard was actually Frank shooting a deer. Dad said as soon as Frank shot, the guy ran away from us toward the logging road.

We helped Frank out with his deer and decided to call it an early day. Although I was extremely nervous, thankfully the rest of the week went on with no incidents. If it's a flat or a squeal, a wobble or peel, your tread's worn down or you need a new wheel, wherever you go, you can get it from our tread experts. Toyo's open country family of tires will get you through tough weather in a variety of terrains. Until May 31st, save up to $100 in rebates on select Toyo tires.

Find a Toyo tread experts dealer near you at treadexperts.ca slash locations. From tires to auto repair, we're always there. Treadexperts.ca slash locations. From tires to auto repair, we're always there, treadexperts.ca. About 10 or 15 years ago, there used to be this one Burger King place just outside of Silver Lake out here in California. It was situated just within walking distance of this giant pet supply store that was only too happy to let their customers bring their dogs, cats, chinchillas, or whatever else with them while they did their shopping. But unfortunately for me, the close proximity of these two places meant that many people would often try to have their pets

accompany them for a burger and although I'm assuming that the management frowned on that, they didn't really do all that much to curb that sort of behavior either. I'm pretty sure it broke all kinds of food safety regulations but I suppose to them, business was business and they couldn't really afford to turn every single pet owner away if the place wanted to stay afloat. So on the day in question, I had stopped at the restaurant for what I hoped would be a quick bite to eat before a job interview. It wasn't the smart choice, I'll admit. It certainly wouldn't be prudent of me to turn up to an interview smelling like french fry grease.

But to be entirely honest, the smell from outside the restaurant had me practically salivating. Those fries, man. Something about those Burger King fries is just insanely good. Maybe it's the seasoning or the oil, who knows. Point is, I couldn't resist a quick whopper and fries. But incredibly, the moment that I walked through the front door, I recoiled. Hit by a debilitating wave of nausea due to the thick, pungent stench of wet dog filled my nostrils. It was almost enough to make me turn around and walk out again, but I decided since that had already made it this far, I should at least still get something to eat. It was that or risk feeling hungry, grumpy and tired during the interview. My first mistake was peering around the place in the hopes of finding out where the smell originated from.

Through this I ended up locking eyes with a very heavy woman sitting smack bang in the middle of the floor plan who was alternating between dropping ice cubes down various parts of her clothing and pouring large amounts of water directly onto the floor. She shot me a glare as if to say like, what are you looking at? So I broke eye contact and walked right past her, my glances being much more subtle as I did so. And I challenge anyone not to have done the same thing. You can't not look at that stuff like it's like a car crash or something. Gopping is just sort of in our nature. Anyways, these water

puddles were being noisily lapped up by an equally obese dog of ambiguous breed that looked as though it had been recently trying to make love with a freaking mud puddle. My second big mistake was loudly mentioning the unpleasant aroma to the girl who took my order. Although she expressed sympathy, telling me that the manager had already been informed, my complaint was overheard by the clearly crazy woman who was watering the foul-smelling hound. What you say about my dog? She barked out, sounding like she had a cement mixer in her throat in lieu of actual vocal cords.

When I didn't respond, the woman shouted again. Hey, hey, I'm talking to you, boy. You got a problem with my dog, huh? Not in particular. He just doesn't smell too good is all, I said. Whoever said honesty is the best policy was a liar. You got a problem with the way I look after my canine. Before I could think of an appropriate response to de-escalate the situation,

the woman hurled half her full cup at me, completely drenching my freshly laundered suit. Not only that, it turned out that she hadn't been sharing water with her dog, but actually some kind of clear soda. So picture the scene. I'm now covered in the sweet-smelling sugary liquid the dog had been drinking, the same dog that now detects the outwardly negative energy being projected by the woman. Only when it rears up and begins to bark at me do I realize just how big that thing was. Turns out I had been extremely foolish to assume that all that body mass was just fat and blubber because underneath all the fluff was just pure muscle and fury. That and I was covered in soda like I might as well have been in with

Joe Exotic's Tigers whilst covered in sardine oil. It was like a cross between a Saint Bernard and a pitbull and like the saying goes, it really had taken on its owner's personality. It was mean, incredibly mean, and when it barred its yellowing teeth to growl at me and drool dripped from the corners of its mouth onto the floor below, I realized something. Dogs are killers. We might like to pretend they're not, that they're cuddly little doggos or borkers or whatever dumb name that the internet has given them that particular week, but they're not. They're barely domesticated. And given the opportunity, as many of these police camera action videos show, some dogs are just waiting for the chance to mess a person up.

That's exactly what this dog wanted to do to me. The fat lady only barely had him under control. The devil dog was straining so hard against its old frayed leash that I'm pretty sure I could hear the cordage beginning to stretch to breaking point in between this thing's mammoth monstrous barks. She was screaming at me that she could just sick him on me and that I'd be a fine lesson for a rude person like myself not to talk smack about people in public like that. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was absolutely terrified. I mean to the point that I almost completely forgot that I had a job interview in the first place. It was just pure survival mode all of a sudden. Before I knew it, I was behind the counter in the Burger King workstation begging the girl on duty to call the cops, animal control, anyone who could remedy the situation. Anyone else, some gangbanger

or whatever, I might not have been half as scared. Sure, I might have gotten a punch of something for my indiscretion, but this woman was literally crazy, and you could just tell from the look in her eyes. Some cholo might just knock my teeth out and walk away, but this lady, I had absolutely no doubt that she was more than willing to let that animal rip into shreds right there on the floor of a freaking Burger King. Once it was clear the cops had been called and I had made some half threat about getting her dog put down, which was just that, there are no bad dogs, just bad owners. The woman left the Burger King and the staff began to clean up the mess she made. I wound up having to rush away for a change of clothes before I could make it to my interview,

which I barely arrived at on time thanks to that little incident. I was just lucky I had a spare suit jacket at home, which looked slightly odd paired with the pants I was wearing at the time. Grey suit jacket, black pants. But it was better than nothing. Oh, and for those interested, I did actually get the job, but I never, ever went to that branch of Burger King ever again. Way back in the 90s, when I was a broke college student up in New York State, I worked at a burger joint one summer in Ithaca.

I don't want to outwardly say the name of the place, but let's just say it's remarkably similar to Burger Monarch. The other staff were pretty cool. They were mostly young college-aged kids like myself, and I actually still keep in touch with a few of them since we became pretty good friends. Hard work like that builds crazy strong bonds. But the manager was something else entirely. If there were corners to cut, he'd cut them. And if he could save a few cents on new stock by recycling old stuff, he would. I mean, to the point it kind of felt like we ran the restaurant and just sort of tried to stop him from messing the entire operation up, just so we could keep getting our paychecks.

But I'll name no names to protect the innocent, and now that I'm safe from being sued, on with the story. The sanitation in this particular Burger King was very questionable indeed. I mean, I've been to Burger King since with my kids and it's a whole new ballgame. Cleaning stations everywhere, all the staff have gloves, the place is gleaming. But this, my Burger King, was a world away from the kind of place you see nowadays. While there were timers built into the refrigerators to symbolize that we were supposed to throw patties away after being prepped for two hours or more. These were much just decorations for the health inspectors. Anyways, I get a free burger and fries during my break. It was one of the few perks of actually

working there, that and the free parking that I abused from time to time so I could go hang out at the nearby mall. I normally go for your bare bones basic cheeseburger since it was almost always fresh and used minimal ingredients and thus the least likely to kill me. But I decided to go for another kind of burger one day because ranch dressing on onion rings together on one burger fulfilled a long-held protein dream I'd had. Anyway, so I throw a patty onto the grill for a few minutes, take it off, and take a few bites, only to realize something was wriggling in the burger bun. Yep, you read that right, and on closer inspection it seemed like the whole hunk of bread was moving. Between the gooey, saucy cheese and buns were half a dozen or so

little white larvae who were wriggling rather anxiously at having just been thrown onto a sizzling hot beef patty from their safe, cool home on the burger bun. Management always left the doors open in the summertime, front and back, as the place could get unbearably hot, and apparently that invited fruit flies that laid eggs on the burger buns. After gagging, spitting, and trying not to contemplate what was potentially wriggling down my esophagus, I showed the wormy buns to my boss, who claimed it was just sesame seeds, and then yelled at me for throwing the buns away. It was a long time before I ate a burger in that place again. Although what was almost as disturbing to me is that at roughly

the same time, some drunk Cornell fat dude got a wormy bun and came to the counter. We realized what was happening and prepared ourselves for some kind of sustained assault ending in a lawsuit. But the guy just straight up ordered another burger. Another one. People are gross. I work at a local Burger King in my city in Ohio. A few nights ago I was working the closing shift which is 5pm until 10pm. It's a shorter shift but it's the heaviest one of the day. And not just because it's busy because all the weirdos seem to come out after the sun goes down.

And this right here is the story of the most bizarrely disturbing encounter I've ever had while working in that Ohio Burger King. So it must have been only like half an hour until closing and round about this time the throngs of late night diners start to kind of peter out allowing us to close a few booths and generally get a head start on clean down before actually closing. The restaurant is getting quieter and quieter and as time goes on it actually seems like we might be able to get out of that place at a reasonable hour which obviously we're all excited about. You see we didn't get any overtime there and they'd only pay us for 15 minutes after closing. The idea being to keep us from slacking and earning a few extra bucks and makeup work after hours. So as I was saying, it's about half an hour from closing when I see a guy start walking towards the clear glass doors. They're double doors too, so picture the scene as

he opens one door, uses the little hook to keep it open, then does the same with the other door so that both sets of doors are wide open, like he's ready for an entire mob of people to start walking through the entrance. But instead of an entire mob of people, there came only one, although I'm guessing she weighed about as much as three or four other people. This woman was in a mobility scooter, or more accurately, spilling out from over a mobility scooter. I really don't mean to be cruel here, but she was disgusting. Objectively disgusting. She couldn't have weighed any pound less than 600, and her size was such that she actually needed an oxygen tank attached to her scooter, a clear plastic line running from it up into her nostrils. She scoots her way to the counter with her man and proceeds to just

smile at him while he orders something for her. Something being the single biggest order I'd ever taken down in the entire time I've worked there, and I'm talking even more than the frat boys who come in drunk one Saturday night. The order came to just shy of $150 and took about 20 minutes to prepare. Keep in mind that the average serving time in our restaurant at that period was like 6 minutes, 6 minutes for an entire bag of meals and this order took 20 with every member of our staff preparing it. When it was done, the worst part commenced. She scooted herself over to a table with her man, who then proceeded to feed her pretty much the entire order in the space of about 10 minutes. It was absolutely disgusting, but honestly I couldn't decide if it was worse that we were bearing witness to that whole thing,

or that the guy seemed to take immense pleasure in making a freaking mess while he was feeding her. By the time they left, there were fries and ranch dressing everywhere. All over the floor, all down the red leather in the booth. Tons of fries had been, like, crushed underfoot in that way that you have to really scrub at the plastic tiling to get them up. The whole thing added a bunch of extra time to our cleanup. But that's not the thing that scared me. It's how into the whole feeding thing they were. How the woman was hurtling towards an early grave and seemed, seemed to be loving it.

So, I think I can answer this one, given that I used to work at Burger King as a shift manager while I was still attending night school. Our store was located in the large Walmart shopping center. Every single store in that whole shopping center really hated being next to the Walmart because the general manager happened to be particularly mean and spiteful. So for example, there was a problem reported in a store, an employee complaining about staff facilities being busted, he would just fire the employees who reported the issue instead of actually fixing the problem like a grown-up. And said problem usually went unfixed until it turned into an emergency like when the septic tank backed up or whatever caused that sewage stench in the

parking lot for like a week straight. If that seemed like a very specific example, it should do. It was beyond disgusting. As a result of our anger and the subsequent chewing outs he got from us, he couldn't fire us and our manager hated him even more than we did. Every year he would express his ire for the fast food restaurants next to him by plowing the snow in his parking lot into the large piles that blocked the entrances to our parking lots. Yep, he was that kind of guy. Anyway, three months later and it's almost summertime. This is all right in the middle of a hectic lunch rush when basically our entire parking lot was full and whenever that occurred people would just park at the far end of the Walmart parking lot and wander over to us.

And that day, we just so happened to be told by multiple customers that there was a growing fire ant nest in one of the flowery garden-type islands in the Walmart parking lot. We advised people to be careful, even putting up signs in addition to calling our general manager a few times, asking him to get an exterminator. He explained that we just didn't have the funds to hire professional exterminators but he'd call up head office as soon as possible only they really had the power to allocate that kind of funding. He sympathized but there was simply nothing he could do right away. It was frustrating but that's the way things are sometimes. So a few days later a woman and three children come in during the lunch rush. The mom is nice and polite. Kids are incredibly cute and she orders one large meal for her, three kids meals for the little tykes and then they all walk out.

Interaction over, right? Wrong. It must have been no more than like 10 minutes later the woman walks back into the restaurant. I recognize her immediately from having been so nice. That's the thing in the service industry. Sometimes I think I'd rather just have nice customers than idiots who tip. Only this time, she's not looking so happy and content. In fact, she looks visibly distressed. My first thought was that an order had been gotten wrong. Maybe one of those adorable little kids is upset that they didn't get their preferred toy or something, but the more I looked, the more it was

obvious that she wasn't just distressed, she looked downright terrified. By the time I noticed that she was actually crying, I just walked out from behind the counter and gave her a polite, may I help you ma'am? She tries to speak but she can't. She's just kind of sobbing uncontrollably in that kind of trying to keep it together but failing kind of way. I'd tell her everything is fine, just to take a breath, and she does. It works. She could talk again. But what I heard next made me kind of wish she hadn't. My son, he... Ants. Fire ants. Oh god, please. Help. Please help. My jaw just about drops. The worst I'd ever envisioned was an irritable grown-up with a few

bites threatening to sue us into oblivion. But a kid? I ran, straight up sprinted as fast as I could manage towards the Walmart parking island. Immediately I see the kids. Two of them are perched atop the hood of the car the mom had obviously been driving while the boy is jumping around erratically, screaming in pain with tears streaking down his little face. His legs, I'll never forget his poor little legs. They were almost completely covered in tiny orange and black fire ants. I mean even from a distance you could see them scuttling up and down his legs, which were already covered in these little red sore looking bites. My first thought is to use the hose out back of the restaurant to spray the kid's legs. Side note, I'd had the exact same thing happen to my cousin when we were kids

and I remember my dad literally saving her butt by spraying her down with the power hose. She cried like a banshee, but it worked. That's also about the time I realized a huge problem with my idea. If this had happened closer to the store, I could have used a hose to spray them off his legs, but if you remember, this was a Walmart parking lot where they'd used free space before walking over to the Burger King. So there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to get them over there, not fast enough. I was absolutely terrified. I had to think quick. All I could think about was that kid in Texas who died of fire ant bites just

a few years before. I mean, I'm pretty sure he just died of a few bites too, and this kid in the parking lot looked like he had hundreds. Then I saw their drinks sitting on the hood of the car in one of those cardboard carrier things. I grabbed them, starting with the mom's large lemonade and sloshed them with as much force as I could muster onto the front of his legs to wash off as many ants as possible. Next, the two small kids drinks straight to the backs and side of the legs 99% of the fire ants are washed off The kid is still screaming But after I clear the rest off with my gloved hand

The initial emergency is over I tell the mom to bring the kid back to Burger King so I can use the first aid kit on him She scoops him up, still screaming Her crying, while the other two kids follow close behind. I bring her in through the delivery entrance, then rush into the office to grab the first aid kit. She rubs burn cream on his legs while I call 911. Ambulance arrives within 5 minutes. Kid is not screaming anymore but still crying. Paramedics take over. The mother gives me a hug and thanks me between tears for helping them. 24 hours later I learned that the

Walmart manager had been sued by a local family for dangerous conditions at a store. The manager was fired and replaced with an interim manager. Exterminators showed up within a week and fire ants were killed. All's well that ends well, right? But still, it was definitely the scariest moments of my entire Burger King career which, funnily enough, ended not long after. To be continued... blast some music, hanging out and just messing around until long after the sunset. Eventually, once we got hungry enough, we decided to drive over to Burger King to get a bite to eat. Now, I'm pretty lit by that point, and I've been lying if I said I wasn't generally being a complete jerk here, but here goes. So the Burger King drive-thru is closed for some reason so we park the car up, get out and head into the restaurant and at the head of this huge line was this giant ham beast

who was in the middle of waving her arm flab around making some animated complaint about her order. My drunk buddies and I proceeded to watch this ham beast making an absolute idiot out of herself for like ten minutes straight, holding up the entire line until eventually she steps to the side to wait for her corrected order or whatever. Either way, the line and I could tell the workers behind the counter were less than pleased with her too. So by the time I get to the front to give my order, I'm feeling all cocky and righteous and for some reason I had it in my head that if I made the workers laugh by roasting the hog lady, I'd get like a free meal out of it or something. So I say something to the effect of, may I apologize on behalf of humanity for the irate snuffling of my heavy friend here. No one laughs. They all just look pretty shocked, looking back and forth between the ham beast and myself, waiting for the aftermath. She turns red in the face and I expect her to explode on me. I'm ready for the black eye or whatever. It was worth it,

just to hear my buddies cracking up behind me. But she didn't flip her lid. She didn't say a word. She just sort of stood there, steaming mad until the guy behind the counter appeared with her amended food order. Then she just sits down and starts eating her food. We get our food and sit down on the opposite side of the restaurant and all the while my buddies are like, come on man, you burned her, jeez dude. But I'm looking over at her because the ham beast is on her phone, just talking all quiet. But every so often she shoots us a little bit of a look with this big smug grin on her fat face i don't know what i was expecting to happen but why i thought i'd get away with it i have no idea because the moment we walked out of that restaurant we just hear from behind us there he is that one is. That one right there. I look around and she's pointing at me, the same smug grin on her face.

Then when I turn back, there's a gun in my face. I honestly can't remember what the dude was screaming at me, only that he was, but I know it was her husband. It's weird the little details you notice when something like that happens to you. I distinctly remember seeing the dude's wedding ring on a finger that was wrapped around the handle of the pistol. I'm not a gun guy, but that thing was an incredibly big pistol, like huge, and all I did was sort of zone out and look down the barrel for a few moments with this guy's screams ringing in my ears. It was only when he pushed it to my forehead that reality came back to me and hit me like a ton of bricks. I just remember shaking so hard that when the guy told me to get down on my knees, I could barely react. He screamed at me to get on my knees because I didn't deserve to die on my feet, and that line stuck with me even to this day. I've never been so scared in my entire life. If you notice, I haven't given my name or where this happened or when it happened. This is to give me enough anonymity to admit that

just after I fell to my knees, and I mean fell to my knees, I just straight urinated my pants, which I didn't even know was really a thing. I mean, obviously, I've heard about people being so scared they wet themselves, but I didn't think it could actually happen to people. But I suppose since I was full of booze and that large coke, there was plenty in my bladder to void, and void my bladder I did. Somehow, I had found a way to make a terrible situation even worse. Not only did I think I was about to die in a parking lot, while a whole restaurant full of strangers looked on in horror, I was about to die soaked in my own urine, cowering and shaking, on my knees outside of a freaking Burger King. He starts shouting other stuff at this point too but I can't quite remember that either. I was just waiting for the moment my light switched off

a feeling like I'd fallen asleep real fast that I'd never ever wake up from. I remember trying to shout something myself something about how will someone please call the cops or whatever but fear is a powerful thing. I couldn't speak, I mean it was like a nightmare come to life. One of those where you try to scream for help but your voice just sort of dries up in your throat. The next thing I remember are my ears pricking up to the word cops being spoken by some bystander just out of my view. Then I hear the distinct voice of the ham beast repeating the word only this time it's not me that sounds scared, it's her. I feel the tip of the pistol leave the back of my head and by the time I summon the courage to look around again, I see the pair of them, ham beast and gun guy, screeching out of the parking lot in some

battered old sedan followed swiftly by the blaring sirens in the distance. It was only when I was giving my statement to the cops that I noticed my buddies were gone, and not only were they completely out of sight, so was the car. So I had to be driven home to my parents' house in a freaking cop car, which clued them into the fact that I had been drinking, which to them was far more worthy of their attention to the fact I'd almost just been shot in the Burger King parking lot. They tried to ground me for like a month, but they didn't need to enforce it. I was too shaken up to leave the house for the first week entirely. Just be careful who you're talking to or trying to be funny. You never know who's psycho enough to put a gun to your head.

This story of mine comes from perhaps the worst period of my entire life so far. I grew up privileged. Summers in the Hamptons and winters in the Bahamas kind of privileged. My dad was an investment banker, and a good one at that. So much so that mom never had to work after they got married. I had it all. Fancy private schooling led into what I thought would be a free college education. Well, not exactly free since dad was footing the bill, but I'd never be saddled with any kind of crippling student debt that would turn my peers into wage slaves for the rest of their lives. At least, that's what I thought was going to happen.

Until the 2008 financial crash. A lot of other financial companies got government bailouts right out of the taxpayer's pocket, but my dad's didn't. For whatever reason, they didn't qualify, so he lost his job. Long story short, one day I was in college, living the good life. The next I was on the phone to my mom, being told I'd have to drop out and find a job if I ever wanted to be able to support myself, as they just didn't have the spare cash anymore. It was devastating. I'd never worked a day in my life before and there I was, traipsing around town with a folder full of resumes, trying to find something, anything, to get some cash in my

account. That's how I ended up working at Burger King. It was really hard at first, although I didn't necessarily feel like it. I obviously gave off some major rich girl vibes as the rough, tough, working class staff members detected it immediately. They didn't go easy on me, not in the slightest, but if I'm honest, that's the best thing that could have happened to me. In the space of about three months, I learned the meaning of a hard day's work, and the more I threw myself into the challenge of full-time work, the more my colleagues started to respect and appreciate me. In the end, we were incredibly tight, and I still keep in touch with a few of them via Facebook and stuff, but anyway, now that you have a bit of background, on with the story. So I was working the late shift one night, which is generally the hardest shift of the day.

The manager only ever put the most competent, most capable workers on that shift, and I know it sounds dumb, but the fact that I'd proven myself enough most capable workers on that shift and I know it sounds dumb but the fact that I'd proven myself enough to be put on that cycle was a huge compliment to me. We used to stay open until midnight on weekends and at about 11.30 we get this pretty regular looking dude coming in, standing there at the counter whilst perusing the menu behind me. I gave it my best, may I take your order, sir? He looks down at me. Without skipping a beat, he's like, two double cheeseburgers, please. I could have plugged the order into the register when he interrupts me with an addendum into his

order. Could I have those without the bun, the bacon, or any cheese and hold off on grilling them for me, would you? Thanks. I stopped plugging his order in and looked up at him. Excuse me? It took a moment for me to really process what he was asking for, and he smiled as he began to clarify what his order was. Is there a problem? Uh, yeah. I'm not sure we're allowed to serve raw hamburgers. It's against food safety regulations. You've heard of steak tartare, haven't you? Yet another guy who immediately detected something in my mannerisms or accent that suggests I was upper class. I didn't even justify it with a response. I just asked him to

wait a second while I talked to my supervisor. So the supervisor comes out and basically tells the guy no, just like I had. Even if you can eat raw beef, it's just not something we're able to serve our customers, or that's what I thought anyway. Because as my super is talking to this guy, calmly explaining that as much as he's sorry, it's just not something we can do. The guy like rolls his eyes and pulls out a wad of high denomination bills from his pocket and is just like, how much would it take? Now the place is pretty much empty at this point but all eyes are on this guy and his wad of bills. I'll never forget the moment my supervisor stopped talking all calm and professional before turning to me and telling me, go to the back and clean something.

I was stunned. I knew the guy well enough to know exactly what he was doing. He was going to clear the floor of potential witnesses then actually get this guy's order. I pretended to clean something, all the while spying on him as he collected two raw patties from the fridge and sort of went through the motions of cooking them, so that if anyone watched the cameras back, telling me to take over the register, but not before he slides a few crisp $100 bills into my hand, telling me not to say a word to anyone and to just forget about what had happened before people start running their mouths about it. As far as the rest of the team knew, he had told the guy no, served him some regular burgers, then simply gone about the rest of his

shift as normal. But I couldn't let it go. I had to get some closure, even if I had a few hundred bucks worth of tips. I had to know what this guy's deal was. So being the sly fox that I am, I ducked my supervisor and hit up the manager in his office, asking him if, since it's so quiet, it'd be okay if I took a cigarette break. He looks at me all confused, turning in his chair before saying, like, You don't smoke, do you? Uh, yeah, I just started. Stress is the job. Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but if you're entitled to your five minutes, just make sure you get your station covered. So I did.

I got a buddy of mine to man the register, bummed the smoke off of one of the friar guys, then stood out back trying to get a look at the guy as he headed for his car. So there's me, standing there, pretending to smoke while I pretend I'm not watching this dude climbing into his driver's side. Then the thought hits me. It's late, stores might not be open, in fact they definitely weren't open, and the dude probably wanted something to cook with, right? Wrong. I distinctly see him unwrap the dripping wet burger wrapper before he raised the raw meat to his face. He doesn't take a bite, not like I expected him to. In fact, it looks more like he's smelling the meat more than anything else. I really couldn't believe what I was seeing. Literally though, I thought the perspective had me

seeing something that I wasn't, so I made the awful decision to edge a little closer to the car, angling out so I could see through the driver's side window. All without considering that his side mirror would reveal me as the peeper that I was. Oh my god. The way he looked at me through that window, this wild look in his eyes after breaking from what looked so much like he was making out with that chunk of meat. He was furious, gunning his engine before ripping out of the parking lot as fast as he could move. I just tossed a cigarette, ran back inside,

and went straight to the super to tell him what I'd seen. He only repeated that no matter what, I wasn't to tell a soul that we'd served him raw meat or those few hundred dollar bills would be the last money we ever got out of this place if the owner didn't opt to sue us too. We never saw that guy ever again and no one ever found out about the raw meat we sold him. I don't suppose I was in any real danger but it was definitely the scariest if not the most disturbing incident I've ever had while working at Burger King. I think maybe the scariest thing to ever happen to me occurred in a Burger King of all places. I was on a particularly long drive one time and it was

later in the evening when I started to get kind of hungry. I kept driving for a few miles until I began to see signs of a Burger King. Hallelujah. Fatty, meaty goodness. I find the Burger King, pull off the highway and park up my car just outside. So as I'm walking over to the actual restaurant I was pretty happy to see that there was no line. Not only that but there didn't seem to be anyone inside the restaurant at all. It was as quiet as the grave in there but frankly that suited me fine. I was famished by that point so naturally I was in no mood to be stood in some long line. I remember seeing the clerk stood behind her register, just stood there, almost in a robotic way, not moving. But again, I didn't overthink it. I figured since they weren't busy, she could afford to just kind

of take it easy. I step inside, walk up to the counter, and then freeze. Now since this is not my first retelling of this many people have asked me how I didn't notice the warning signs. Seemingly empty restaurant, server, frozen to the spot, stuff like that. Like I said it was late in the evening. I had a long day and I was starving. My situational awareness was not at its best and everyone looking at this with hindsight can go screw themselves because I doubt they're the Sherlock Holmes they think they are. Anyway, I get up to the counter, look at the server, and see she's been crying. Not only that, but she's shaking too.

She seems absolutely terrified. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see something under one of the tables nearby. It only takes a slight turn of my head to recognize what it is. It was a person, lying face down, their fingers linked around the back of their head, and they seemed similarly terrified too, too scared to even look up from this prone position. Only then did I realize that something was horribly, horribly wrong. I just didn't know what. But thankfully, or not thankfully, I didn't have to wait long to find out. From the back of the store, a guy in a mask steps out from behind a fryer or something, a grubby looking gun in his

hand, and it's pointed at me. Phone, wallet, and keys on the counter. Now. I can't remember his exact words, but they were essentially that. He ordered me to empty my pockets, and when I did, he ordered me, down on the floor, just like the other dude, I instinctively linked my fingers behind my head. I had apparently interrupted him in the process of emptying the cash registers, or rather, commanding the poor terrified server to do so for him, which she did. I didn't see much of what happened next, but I know he told her to put the money in a food bag so he could walk out without too much suspicion being raised, but that know he told her to put the money in a food bag so he could walk out without too much suspicion being raised, but that's what the logic seemed to be to me. Before he left,

he told us all to count to 100 before we got up and if anyone did, he'd shoot us through the giant glass windows that pretty much made up most walls. As you can guess, I didn't get up, not until I heard him screech out of the parking lot in a car. My car. Needless to say, that was quite the messy situation to follow up with for many months after. I've been pretty heavily involved in various fast food jobs since I was old enough to work, and I am now a manager at a Burger King down here in Florida. We experience a fair share of problems on a daily basis, but the worst has to be people who are using or addicted to drugs. They're everywhere in our industry.

I mean it. The fun never stops for fast food workers. I have seen deals in the back of the kitchen, in the parking lot, in the bathroom, or a walk-in. It used to be worse before my time apparently, but honestly, I find that pretty hard to believe. My boyfriend of 10 years, who was way higher up the management chain than me told me in the old days they would all hang out in employee parking even if it wasn't their shift and just everyone would constantly switch cars while doing various substances. The first week I became a deputy manager I had to cuss an employee out when she came in to work high on crystal. Not about her coming in on

meth, for not doing any work. My boyfriend also tells me he came in and worked in the kitchen for a bit when it wasn't even his shift because he was rolling. Lastly, to this day 90% of the employees come in with eyes redder than Satan's wiener. I used to be one of them but a higher up singled me out and now I don't do it to spite them. This is most fast food places but nothing can prepare you for walking into a bathroom to do a routine check and seeing a person's leg sticking out from under the stall. I remember being super tired that day, just one of those shifts you're just trying to make it through instead of actually putting in any real work. I lazily grabbed the cleaning supplies from the cleaning closet, wandered into the woman's bathroom with my pen in hand, ready to sign my initials on the sheet to show we were being diligent and all that stuff.

I straight up dropped the pen when I saw that girl's leg sticking out from under the stall, then ran. I mean ran back to the manager's office to call the paramedics. They kept asking if the girl was still breathing and I had no idea. It wasn't a cordless phone so I had to grab another team member to get them to check for me. They did not take it well. I don't think they'd ever seen another person on the verge of death like that, lips turning blue and stuff, and I had to send them home early when all was said and done. I don't really blame her either. It was a horrifying thing to behold.

The paramedics showed up and luckily this was at a time when the use of Narcan was becoming increasingly prevalent. For those that don't know, Narcan is a nasal spray that can reverse the effects of an opioid overdose. So luckily for us, and the girl in question, no one died that day. But the thing that sticks with me is the look I saw in that girl's eyes when we opened up the stall so the medics could get to her. I had to like shimmy up the bathroom stall before jumping down, careful not to land on her so I could unlock the stall door. The medics wanted to kick it in but it was quicker and much less expensive for me to just climb over. But when I did, I kid you not, the wide-eyed look

of fear in that girl's eyes, the cold sweat clinging to her brow as she crept further and further towards death's door. I had never been so creeped out in my entire life. I think my most disturbing story regarding fast food work would be working at a Burger King in my native North Dakota. I happened to be the go-to guy for any kind of job the others didn't want. I was in high school at the time and usually worked around 25 hours a week to earn money to fund my extracurricular activities. I cooked, cleaned, washed trays, and served from time to time. But most of all, I was essentially a magnet for odd things. In the two years they were open prior to me starting,

they didn't have drainage issues, fecal issues, vomiting, or anything else like that. But lucky me, when I started my first day consisted of cleaning projectile vomit from the kitchen. One of the cooks took ill during his shift and barfed everywhere, and I mean everywhere. But still, we remained opened and kept all of our tickets under our 10-minute max. Fast forward a few weeks and our soda-slash-ice storage drain under the fridge stopped working. We had to move the fridge and clean out the drain. The drain was full of a gelatinous brown stuff that smelled like raw sewage. A few nights later, some kid had explosive

diarrhea all over our dining area. He somehow managed to hit three tables, around a dozen chairs, and about 80 square feet of wood flooring. Shockingly, we stayed opened and I was forced to clean in between exposing food. Another good one was when our GM found we had a rat problem in one of the walk-in fridge units. The restaurant was closing for a few weeks due to it being our slow season like smack bang in the middle of one of those brutal Dakota winters. One of the super smart shift supervisors decided to just close the door with the rats inside. Whether or not he'd seen them I don't know, but when I came back to open the kitchen to find about 30 dead babies and a mother rat,

this was bad enough on its own, seeing all those twisted up babies dead with their mother nearby. But when I came to donning the gloves and picking up their little bodies one by one and tossing them into a plastic trash bag, it turned out one of them wasn't as dead as they appeared to be. The moment I laid a hand around the mother rat, she woke up. I have no idea how she wasn't dead. I mean, she mustn't have had any food or water for a while unless she had somehow found a way but alive she was and she was angry. She somehow managed to escape my grip but she didn't drop to the floor. Instead she sunk her teeth into my hand before she started working her way up my arm, biting me viciously the entire way. I was screaming, trying to smack her off of me but every time I seemed to hit her, she had her teeth buried in my flesh and smacking her only succeeded in making the wounds even worse as her teeth ripped and tore at my skin.

In the end, I managed to catch her with a shot that knocked her off and sent her crashing into the fridge wall next to me. Then, I stomped and stomped over and over again until she wasn't moving anymore and her broken body was spilling guts out onto the floor I had to have 19 stitches in my hand and arm along with the tetanus shot and I was stuck in a hospital for 72 hours due to waiting out my shift before going in. So this story doesn't have anything to do with Burger King food as such, as the restaurant I happened to be working in at the time was very sanitary. I used to eat Burger King burgers and fries on my breaks, as I never encountered anything gross happening in the entire time I worked there. Then again, I usually work the morning or day shift and the people seem

to be much cleaner and more diligent than the afternoon or the night crew. Offense intended, night crew. Y'all are nasty. On one of my last days of work, something extremely messed up happened. At the time this whole incident happened, I had put in my two weeks notice because I got a different, nicer, thankfully, job, and by the end of that day, I felt even luckier that I'd managed to land a much more pleasant job. You see, a young woman brought her two children with her to the store. Not an unusual thing, and although I didn't serve them, I was around the registers when the mom placed her order. Absolutely nothing seemed amiss with her or her kids, and trust me, you get really good at reading people when you work service.

Body language, posture, stuff like that you learn to read and you can almost tell if someone is about to be a jerk or whatever. Anyway, on the day in question, a large group of senior citizens from a local retirement home were there as well. It was a weekly thing and we came to get to know some of the older folks who came into the restaurant. So one of these sweet old ladies walks up to the counter and tells the ship's supervisor that one of the bathroom stall doors was locked. She knocked on the door numerous times, thinking it might have been one of the bathroom stall doors was locked. She knocked on the door numerous times thinking it might have been one of her retirement home friends but got no response. She told us she was pretty worried and asked if a member of the team could

go into the bathroom to make sure everything was okay. Our general manager immediately jumps into action, got in there and used the special kind of key we had to open up the bathroom stall from the outside. The mood was kind of tense when she walked in, but the entire restaurant went into a panic when she rushed out, shouting for someone to call 911. We later found out that she had unlocked the stall, only to find the young mom of two lying on the bathroom floor, turning purple, with an empty bottle of bleach next to her with the cap off. She had tried to take her own life, right there in the bathroom, with her two young kids playing just a few yards away. And this was the worst part. These children were like three or four years old, tops. I don't think they'd ever get over it if their mom died like that,

right there with them. When all was said and done, all the employees on that shift were in tears or just numb from what had happened. The paramedics and police came and there was a huge commotion. Everyone thought she was dead. However, the paramedics were fortunately able to revive her. I'd like to believe it was an adrenaline shot through the heart, Pulp Fiction style, but I honestly have no idea how they got her back. And she was sent to the hospital. Needless to say, I was over the moon that I didn't have to work in that place anymore. Even if I wasn't on the way out, I'd have definitely, after that anyway. If you got a story, be sure to submit them to my subreddit, rLetsReadOfficial, and give and receive feedback from the community.

And maybe even hear your story featured on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. And if you want to support me even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon. And maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. And check out the Let's Read podcast, where you can hear all these stories in long compilation form and save huge on data, located anywhere you listen to podcasts. Links in the bio. Thanks so much, friends, and I'll see you again soon. We'll be right back. And from our tread experts. Toyo's open country family of tires will get you through tough weather in a variety of terrains. Until May 31st, save up to $100 in rebates on select Toyo tires.

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