The Lets Read Podcast - 129: PSYCHO EX GIRLFRIENDS | 31 True Scary Horror Stories | EP 117

Episode Date: April 5, 2022

This episode includes narrations of true creepy encounters submitted by normal folks just like yourself. Today you'll experience horrifying stories about Psycho Girlfriends, Maniacs In The Woods, & Paranormal Entities... HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON - ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ♫ 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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BetRivers is the place. Over, under, money, line. Same game, parlays, it's all fine. We'll put a smile on your face. Bet on the sports you love with BetRivers Sportsbook. Take a chance. We'll be right back. I'm sorry. On July 28th, 1977, Travis Victor Alexander was born in Riverside, California, the son of Gary and Pamela Alexander. Travis' early years were marred by tragedy. At age 11, an unstable and ultimately toxic home life meant that Travis would be forced to go and live with his paternal grandparents. And after his father's tragic death

in mid-1997, he was followed by his seven brothers and sisters. Despite his rough upbringing, Travis performed rather well in school, attending college and eventually getting a job with a company known as Prepaid Legal Services as a salesman, and later as the company's motivational speaker, a position that paid considerably better. As part of his job at PPL, Travis would often attend conferences that took place in Las Vegas, plying his trade as a motivational speaker in front of audiences of hundreds. During one such conference in September of 2006, there was one particular woman in the audience who was enraptured by Travis' charisma and his talent for public speaking. She approached him afterwards, introducing herself and striking up a conversation

that would spark off a long-term friendship. This woman's name was Jodi Arias. Jodi Ann Arias was born on July 9th, 1980, in Salinas, California, to a mother of European ancestry and a father of Mexican ancestry. After she met Travis at the PPL conference, the pair grew increasingly close, which led to Jodi converting to Mormonism just two months later, actually being baptized by Travis himself at a ceremony that took place in Southern California. Despite the distance between them, the pair then began dating a few months later, and Jodi even took the steps to move to Mesa and then Wairika, California, living in her grandparents' place so she could be closer

to Travis. Travis and Jodi had a tumultuous on and off again relationship for almost a year and a half, often forced to maintain a long distance relationship due to the fact that one of them lived in Arizona while the other had to remain in California for work. This kind of distance would put a strain on any relationship, but it appeared there were other factors at work that made Jody and Travis' relationship less than healthy. From the very first time that Travis introduced Jody to his close friends, they seemed to take an instant dislike to her. Jody didn't seem in the least bit keen to impress or ingratiate herself to them, seeming generally disinterested in anyone

but Travis. His friends detected a kind of jealousy to her. How she seemed to act overly possessive of Travis, yet at the same time, didn't seem to show him much affection either. From the get-go, they found Jodi's behavior worrying, even frightening. Shortly after Jodi moved into her grandparents' home in Huayrica, she and Travis arranged to accompany one another on a week-long work-related trip to Cancun, down in Mexico. The trip was scheduled for June 15th, and the couple intended to make something of a vacation out of it. However, not long after, Travis reportedly went to company HQ to request that his travel companion be changed to another member of the sales team. There has been much speculation regarding why exactly this is, but our best guess is to assume that it involved a breakdown in his and Jody's relationship. Then on May 28th, Jody called Travis in a state of distress. She told him there had been a burglary at her grandparents' place

where she was staying and felt so unsafe that she begged to come and stay with him for a while. The burglars had apparently stolen a number of valuable items during the break-in but perhaps the most significant was a.25 caliber Colt pistol which had belonged to her grandfather. Police had no luck finding the perpetrators, and eventually gave up looking altogether as they couldn't seem to find a single shred of evidence that might give them a clue to the identity of any of the people involved. In the face of Jody begging to stay with him, Travis straight up refused. This is perhaps the best evidence we have that their pair had broken up by that point. If Travis loved her,

or had any feelings at all for her, surely he would have offered her a place to stay. Only he didn't. Or maybe it was the case that Travis did love her, but something else was stopping him from inviting her over. It's possible that there have been many another woman in Travis' life. However, it's also possible that Travis didn't invite Jodi over because he was afraid of her. Jodi called Travis yet again on June 2nd, repeatedly attempting to reach him between the hours of 1am and 3am, but her cell phone records show that, since the longest call was a mere 17 seconds, he apparently didn't pick up the phone. Then, just after 3 in the morning, Travis called Jody back, and the pair engaged in a lengthy conversation. We have no idea

what was said during the call, but we do know that at around 5.30 that same morning, Jodi drove over to a car rental place over in Redding, California, entering the business shortly after it opened at 8am. She told the clerk that she wished to use the car for the long drive to Utah for a work-related trip, and then drove it to visit a few friends on her way to Utah, where she would meet up with a fellow PPL employee by the name of Ryan Burns. Yet Jodi didn't show up to meet Ryan until late in the evening on June 3rd, leaving a sizable amount of time to be accounted for that day. And when she did show up in the West Jordan suburb of Salt Lake City to meet up with Ryan Burns, her colleague noticed some unusual things about her. Firstly, he saw that her normally dyed blonde hair was now brown, but not its natural shade of brown and that she seemed to have cuts or scratches all over her hands. Jody also refused to let him near the rental car, insisting that they take his car to the PPL business conference. Naturally, Ryan thought this behavior was unusual,

but the pair had more important things to think about, as the conference would keep each of them occupied for the majority of the day. Ryan had another reason to keep quiet about such unusual behavior, and that's because he and Jody had begun something of a love affair during their time in Utah, with the two spending several hours hugging and kissing on a large beanbag chair at the place they were staying. Jody also reassured him about the cuts on her hands by telling him that she had gotten them while working part-time at a Mexican restaurant in the Huayrica area, an excuse that seemed good enough for him to quiet his suspicions. Once their business was adjourned, Jody departed from Salt Lake City on June the 6th,

driving back westward towards California. Her cell phone records showed that she attempted to call Travis several times, leaving a handful of voicemails, yet she apparently also found a way to access this voicemail system. Why exactly she chose to do so is still a matter of conjecture, but we can all agree that it constitutes some rather unusual behavior. When she returned the rental car to the outlet in Reading, the clerk began to inspect the interior as a matter of routine. It is then that he too noticed something unusual. The vehicle was missing its floor mats on the driver and passenger side. There were also some kind of stains on the upholstery, as if some thick liquid had been

spilled and then left to dry. However, since the upholstery was black and the color of said liquid was not visible, no suspicions were raised among the staff at the car rental outlet, and the interior was clean before it could be inspected by anyone of any importance. Meanwhile, a few days prior, Travis' employers had tried to contact him for a conference call, only to have their calls unanswered. The same pattern repeated itself for a few days, with friends and colleagues calling only for Travis to not pick up his phone. By June 9th, as a handful of Travis' friends were beginning to worry amongst themselves regarding his well-being, they agreed to go over to his home to check up on

him. They spoke to a few of the other tenants who lived in the same building as Travis did and found that they had not seen him in a few days. But since he traveled for work frequently, they didn't seem to think that there was anything to worry about. However, one of Travis' neighbors was in possession of a spare key to his apartment, which Travis has entrusted them with on the off chance he should ever lose his keys. The concerned group of friends proceeded to unlock the door to Travis' apartment, calling out his name as they entered. Then one of them froze with a sharp gasp, pointing to a pool of congealed blood that sat in the hallway in Travis' bedroom. In a panic, they began to search the apartment for him, eventually being greeted by the sight of his days old corpse which was lying in the bathtub, covered in blood. His friends cried and screamed as they called 911,

but they did not attempt to revive him as it was obvious from the state of his dead body that he had been deceased for a while. During the 911 call that followed the discovery, a police dispatcher asked if Travis had potentially thought about ending his own life or if his friends knew of anyone who may have been threatening his life. His friends immediately mentioned Jody Arias, his ex-girlfriend, as a possible suspect in his murder. He said that, in the days prior to his death, Travis had mentioned that Jody had been stalking him, accusing him of seeing someone else, and seemed to be in some kind of jealous rage. This psychopathic jealousy had led her to begin attempting to access his Facebook account, and even going so far as slashing his car's tires.

When investigating police arrived at Travis' home, they commenced an intense search for any evidence or clues as to the identity of his killer. One of the most curious things they discovered was a recently purchased digital camera in the washing machine. Despite a large amount of water damage, police were able to recover the camera's memory card and found on it a number of photographs which someone had apparently attempted to delete. These photographs showed Travis and Jodi in numerous suggestive poses taken on the afternoon of June 4th. The final photograph in the series was taken at 5.39pm that same day and showed Travis alive and well while he was taking a shower.

In it, he was smiling playfully, completely naked, a candid depiction of the man's final moments. As another photograph, taken just minutes later, showed Travis bleeding profusely while lying on the bathroom floor. DNA samples were taken from bloody handprints found in the bathroom, which gave police all the evidence they needed to arrest a suspect, as they contained not only Travis' DNA, but Jodi Arias' too. After being indicted for first-degree murder by a grand jury in Maricopa County, Jody was arrested at her home in California and then extradited to Arizona on September 5th, 2008. Less than a week later, she pled not guilty, giving several different accounts of her alleged involvement in Travis' death. At first, she told investigating police officers that she was nowhere near Arizona on the day her

ex-boyfriend was murdered. Then, after pressure from the cops, she admitted she was present at the time of his death but that it had involved a home invasion, whereby two individuals broke into Travis' residence before killing him and attacking her in turn. Two years of investigation later, Jodi then changed her story entirely, telling the police that she had indeed killed Travis, but had only done so in self-defense. She spun a tale of brutal domestic violence, how she was a victim of a cruel and violent man, and how she regularly feared for her life around him. At her trial in February of 2013, Jodi told the jury that she had been physically and emotionally abused by her parents, and that her life with Travis had echoed that same cycle of abuse and guardianship, one that she wanted to escape from, but couldn't

quite bring herself to. She went on to describe the abusive type of life that Travis subjected her to, one that included a great deal of BDSM and other painful acts, most of which were in direct violation of the Mormon rules regarding such things. Jodi also had recorded a phone conversation that she had with Travis, one that she used as evidence to prove that at one point, Travis had wanted to use zip ties to tie her to a tree while she was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. Jodi is heard to respond enthusiastically on the phone, but told the court it was all an act, that the idea terrified her and was typical of the kinds of things that Travis wanted to do. Jodi also mentioned that Travis had admitted to find underage children attractive, basically painting him to be a complete monster. However, the prosecution argued that Jody was a vengeful, vindictive person who had only recorded the phone conversation in an attempt to blackmail Travis and embarrass him in front of his Mormon peers. The prosecution also questioned a forensic

expert before the jury, prompting them to say that there had been a thorough examination of Travis's computer, one in which absolutely had no evidence of child pictures found, nor were there any references to anything intimate with children. Rebuttal witnesses from the prosecution also included several of Travis's other girlfriends, who stated he never exhibited any problems with anger or violence. Clinical psychologist Janine DeMarte testified for the prosecution, stating that she found no evidence that Travis had ever abused Jodi. DeMarte also said that Jodi suffered from borderline personality disorder, showing signs of immaturity and an unstable sense of identity.

The final nail in Jodi's legal coffin was the prosecution telling the jury that a single .25 caliber bullet casing was found near Travis' body, the same caliber of the gun that was stolen from her grandparents' place just a week before the murder. As it turns out, Jodi had faked the entire burglary just to obtain the murder weapon, which not only showed that she was a dangerous psychopath willing to hurt those close to her to achieve her goals, but that she had actually been planning to kill Travis for quite some time. After the trial, that had reportedly cost the US taxpayer over 3 million dollars, the jury found Jodi guilty of first-degree murder,

and she only narrowly avoided the death penalty when a judge essentially took pity on her mental illness, sentencing her to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. She was also ordered to pay Travis' siblings over $30,000 in damages. As of 2016, Jodi is housed at Arizona State Prison Complex, Perryville, and her case and trial have been the subject of a great deal of social media interest, with even Donald Trump commenting on what he called her obvious guilt. Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the whole sordid drama is that Travis may well have genuinely believed that he had found the love of his life, and how in searching for the fairytale romance that all people want deep down,

he found the polar opposite, a living nightmare that would end in him losing his life to someone who could fairly be described as a conniving, violent, psychopathic predator. Relationships break down all the time for a variety of reasons. People hurt, people cry, but most ultimately move on and find someone else. Jodi took that chance away from Travis in a horridly callous and bloody manner. Instead of letting Travis go, she dragged him down like a sinking ship, one which neither of them will ever emerge from intact. At the end of last summer I was just about sick to my back teeth of dating apps. But somehow, I just couldn't quite bring myself to delete them. Maybe it was an inspired determination to never give up, or maybe it was just the fear

of spending my 30s alone. But either way, I ended up just moving them to the second page of my iPhone menu. They'd be out of sight, out of mind. Then exactly ten days after I'd almost sworn them off, I met Haula. She was a good six years older than me and she lived in the next city over, but that didn't bother me, not in the least bit. You see, she was beautiful. A small Arab woman with bouncy natural curls and rich amber eyes that were framed with the most adorable little freckles. Although she didn't make a big deal about it, you could tell she worked out and to top it off, she was a hematology consultant, like the top blood doctor for miles and miles around, a literal boss lady. Needless to say, I was smitten. Our first date was in a Middle Eastern restaurant called Bab, and it went very well indeed. We clicked as

well as we had in text, and we ended up falling into bed together that very same night. She cried when it was over, telling me she'd never done that on a first date before. I just held her, told her I've got you, and promised that she wouldn't live to regret it. We had breakfast the next morning, and it was just as magical as the previous evening. A second date, a little over 12 hours after the first which was pretty unprecedented for me. That evening we had dinner again, with her introducing me to traditional Libyan food. Something that was very dear to her is her country of origin's cuisine. I think I might be a little biased in saying it was incredible, but trust me, it was good.

That night, neither of us wanted me to catch the train back to my home vistas, captioning them with, you should be here, I miss you and the like. Being a top-tier doctor, she was far too busy saving lives to ever see me during the week, but we spent almost every weekend together, visiting fancy restaurants in between watching French movies, as she was fluent in the language, and little tours that she'd give me of the grand city that she called home. Everything was going incredibly, at least until one weekend when we couldn't see each other because she was going back to Yorkshire to see her parents. She seemed a wee bit quiet for the duration, but I took that on the chin. Even though she was 38, I knew her parents were very, very strict, and that her mom adhered to a particular kind of Islam that is known as Salafi or Wahhabi. Those are the kind that don't believe in things like singing or dancing, and even take issue with stringed instruments for some reason. So, naturally, the idea of her unmarried daughter having a

boyfriend was out of the question, let alone a non-Muslim one. So like I said, I understood why she didn't want to get caught. I understood why she had set her WhatsApp setting to not display messages on the lock screen, and I understood why she never saved me as a contact. God knows what they'd do if they found out about me and it really didn't bear thinking about it. But even when she got back to the flat she lived in, even when she was rid of her parents for another few weeks, she seemed a little cold. However, a week or so went by and she seemed to return to being her normally warm and affectionate self. So for the next few months or so I didn't think anything of it,

while the strange negativity that she'd brought back from her parents' place was forgotten. Right up until the time around her birthday, when she'd once again promised them that she'd make the trip home to see them. Needless to say, I was prepared for some turbulence, but I had absolutely no idea how bad things were about to get. It ended the Monday after she got home. We had a massive fight about the future, how we were basically doomed, how her parents would never accept a non-Muslim or anyone who earned under a six figures a year. I talked about the prospect of me converting religiously or maybe writing her

father a formal letter in Arabic asking for his permission to marry her. I knew he'd respect that but the idea just terrified her. You're too optimistic, she'd say. Too young, too naive. We continued to argue but she just settled in the excuse of, I just don't have time for a relationship right now. I'm sorry. What we had was nice, yes, but that's all in the past. Hate me. Just hate me. It'll be easier to let me go that way. I knew something had happened back at her parents' place, something that tipped her over the edge of pessimism and into full-on doomsaying. I begged her to tell me what it was, but she wouldn't.

She denied anything bad even happening at all. But I could always tell when she was lying, and she was never any good at it. After that, after I failed to convince her to stay, it was all just tears and apologies, until I finally got the balls to just say, Ma Salama Ya Habibi Allah Hafiz. Goodbye, my darling. God protect you. I tried to keep in touch after the breakup.

She was someone that had achieved so much in their life but was, by their own admission, a little messed up. I didn't want to just abandon her because she'd broken my heart. She said it herself. She said that she'd like to keep in touch but was worried it would blur the lines, how it was better if we didn't have any emotional attachments since it was so heartbreaking that two people who got on so well just didn't have any kind of future together. I assured her, as best as I could, that it wouldn't be that way. I just kept trying to weasel back into her life. I generally just wanted to stay in touch. In her own words, she would always reply to messages, but she didn't.

The very next day, her replies dropped off and eventually petered out altogether. It was crushing. Something must have happened to her, I thought, but I tried to push the idea out of my head. It was a pathetic attempt to reassure myself that she still wanted to talk. She just couldn't. There had been a car accident. She lost her phone. She was sick, maybe. All these worried thoughts came flooding into my head, all in an attempt to replace the devastating reality that she just didn't give a monkey's toss about me anymore, that she was cold-hearted enough to just cut me out of her life. Like I said, I tried my best to force such ideas out of my head but the more I tried,

the more they got a grip on me and one day, I decided to call her just to see how she was doing. My heart pounded in my chest as the phone rang, mainly from anticipating the pain that would hit me when I heard her say something along the lines of, oh god leave me alone I'm blocking this number. But her mobile just went to voicemail over and over again and I tried calling a lot that day at different times just to make sure. She wasn't responding on any of her social media accounts either, not a single one. None of the messages were even being read and she always read her whatsapp messages, always. Even if she wasn't going to reply she'd read them. The next day I tried her at work,

the same adrenaline pumping through me as I expected to hear the worst, but when the call was picked up and I heard a voice on the other end, I immediately recognized that it wasn't her. You threw the Dr. Peterson? They said. It was a male voice. I asked the guy if I could speak to Dr. Howla. I used her second name, but I'm not prepared to give that one out here, and to my shock, he told me that she hadn't been into work for the past two weeks, that as far as he knew, she didn't work in that hospital anymore. I asked if she was okay, and he had no idea that he'd been transferred there a few weeks prior to

fill a temporary consultancy position. She loved that job. She said it was her future. She once told me getting that consultant's position was the greatest achievement of her life. Something was wrong, and I could feel it in my bones. As crazy as it sounds, I decided to try and visit her at her apartment in the next city over. Even if she was home, had moved jobs, and just told me to get lost, at least it would ease my mind. At least I'd know she was okay. I rang on her apartment intermittently for hours, hoping she'd either answer or I could catch her

returning home. Eventually, I saw one of her neighbors walking into the apartment building, and I summished the courage to ask her about Hawla. He didn't know her by name but he did have some information, telling me he'd seen some people moving some furniture out of the apartment about a week prior. I asked him if it was a moving company or something and he said no, just three Arab looking people, two older, one younger. I pestered him for a description of them and from what I could tell it sounded like her mom, dad and brother. I pressed him on whether or not that

he'd actually seen Howla and he told me no one fitting her description was there that day and he'd been in and out of this flat an awful lot. My last move was to track down a phone number for her dad. Getting hold of the family landline would at least give me an idea if she was okay or not. The best case scenario was that she'd just moved back in with her parents for whatever reason, be it a breakdown or maybe to look after one of them if they were sick or something. I mean the whole situation just seemed really unusual and I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was very very wrong. Since he was a retired doctor it was relatively easy to find his number. I just lied to an old colleague of his telling them I was an old patient that wanted to say thank you. But when I called what I was told had me absolutely terrified. I know it was the right person. I know from the cute little

impressions Howla used to do of him, I know I was talking to her dad. But the man I spoke to said he had no daughter named Howla. But not in the confused, bewildered manner you'd expect from a genuine case of mistaken identity. He got angry, really angry, and before he hung up the phone, never to answer it to me again, he told me he knew who I was, that I'd made a serious mistake and that if I ever called again, he'd be contacting the police. But it's me that's going to be contacting the police because I think something terrible has happened to her and I think her parents are responsible with some help from her brother. She'd only mentioned once or twice how controlling they

were, how they'd kill her if they ever found out that we were together. I always thought she meant metaphorically, never literally, but for the past few months I'm starting to think otherwise. I think my ex's parents found out about us and I think they may have murdered her. I have no way to prove it and the police won't listen to me. I tried to report her missing but the policewoman I spoke to said that they got a call from a woman in Switzerland who assured them that she was Haula and that she wasn't missing at all. Only I know for a fact that she has a sister in Geneva who works for the WHO, one who might well be easily convinced to lie to protect her parents.

It's way beyond her just ignoring me at this point. Surely she'd have contacted me and told me to stop looking for her, to just give up. But she hasn't, and she was always such a lioness, never afraid to tell me what she was thinking. I just hope I can get to the bottom of this one day, but it terrifies me to think that a girl could just be disappeared by her own parents, and if that really is the case, then I won't rest until they face justice. I won't stop until I find Howler. If it's a flat or a squeal, a wobble or peel, your tread's worn down or you need a new wheel,

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Must be 19 plus. Available in Ontario only. Please play responsibly. If you have questions or concerns about your gambling or someone close to you, please contact ConnexOntario at 1-866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. To be continued... in Scotia, New York. Scotia is a small, quaint town of only around 8,000 people, situated just over 20 miles north of Albany in upstate New York. It hadn't been very long since they'd gone through a terrible and traumatic breakup, one that had left both teenagers heartbroken and depressed. It was so crushing for Craig that the depression that resulted from it

had caused him to simply stop showing up to his job at the local price chopper. His manager had given him a few formal warnings at first, but once their initial worry had turned into frustration and disappointment, Craig was fired and promptly replaced. So it's clear that the event had a profoundly negative effect on Craig's mental well-being, but what's not clear is exactly why he'd driven over to his ex's apartment that day. He could have driven over to patch things up, for the romantic reunion of two teenage lovers, but it's also just as likely that one or both of them simply wanted proper closure so that each could leave that chapter of their lives behind in peace. But Craig's visit to his ex was extremely poorly timed.

You see, right about the time he was driving over to his ex's place, Craig's mom stopped by the price chopper to pick up a few grocery items. She wasn't the type of mom to deliberately embarrass her teenage son, but seeing him in his uniform while he worked hard always made her feel extra proud of him. But as she walked around the store, she couldn't see him anywhere, Seeing him in his uniform while he worked hard always made her feel extra proud of him. But as she walked around the store, she couldn't see him anywhere, and had to learn from one of Craig's former colleagues that he had been fired as a result of endemic, unauthorized absences. She was furious, not only because she had to learn it in such a humiliating manner, but also because Craig had lied to her face about going to work

that day. In fact, he had been deceiving his parents about the loss of his job for at least two weeks by this point, and his mother was now desperate to find out just where he'd been going all that time. Craig's mom called his cell phone at the next available opportunity. She waited patiently as the dial tone buzzed away, but the call wasn't answered. She tried again, only to once again find that the call rang out. It wasn't diverted, Craig wasn't shutting down the call as to ignore her. In fact, it would turn out that he didn't have his cell phone at all during that time, that he had drove over to his ex's in such haste that he'd forgotten something he rarely neglected

to carry on his person. This included his wallet, which he'd left behind in his bedroom with $40 in cash inside. However, Craig's mom was also no fool. She had a good idea where Craig might be, and had also made a point of taking down his ex-girlfriend's landline number while they were still together. So she called her apartment, got an answer, and found that Craig was there. She confronted him with the knowledge that he had been fired from his job and informed him that she had already told his father the bad news. Craig then told her that he would drive back home in around 10-15 minutes once he was done talking to his ex. But Craig never arrived home. He was reported missing, and the first person the investigating police spoke to

was his ex-girlfriend. She told them that after he had left his apartment, he had not gotten into his car but had instead walked off into the woods behind her apartment complex. This was evidenced by the fact that his vehicle was indeed still parked in the complex's parking lot. The police then discovered that the night before he disappeared, Craig slept at his friend Matthew Holub's house. The pair had been friends since their final years of elementary school when they were co-captains of their high school soccer team. Matthew told the investigating officers that Craig was deeply upset and depressed regarding the breakup with his long-term girlfriend, but also told them that

he had not even remotely hinted that he planned to run away or hurt himself, that doing so would be extremely out of character. The police then intensively searched the area where Craig was supposedly last seen, finding that there were numerous railroad tracks in the area. This was initially deeply concerning, but their search yielded nothing in terms of body parts or evidence that he had used a speeding train to end his own life. The wooded area also had numerous paths that connected Cambridge Manor with Craig's family home in the Yorkshire Court cul-de-sac, which was only a short distance away. Two middle school students, who also used the woodland paths

to get to and from school, also said they saw someone walking near the train tracks on the day in question, but whether or not this was Craig is almost impossible to know for certain. The area was searched numerous times by hundreds of different people, including professional law enforcement as well as unpaid civilian volunteers. Sniffer dogs were also used, but despite their great effectiveness in cases like Craig's, no serious evidence or clues were found. Similar searches of the nearby Mohawk River turned up nothing, leaving authorities completely stumped and leaving his family with no answers to the questions that plagued them.

Police then appealed to the general public for information on Craig's potential whereabouts. The public was given a detailed description, one that stated how Craig was Caucasian, standing around 5'11", weighing about 190 pounds with red hair, brown eyes, and dimples. He apparently sometimes wore a goatee and was wearing a white short-sleeved t-shirt, blue jeans or jean shorts, white Adidas sneakers with three black stripes, and a gold chain with a St. Christopher medal at the time that he went missing. Almost a hundred members of the New York State Police, both investigators and troopers, have been involved in the case over the years.

The local Scotia police investigated the case for around two years, before increasing complexities forced them to turn it over to the state police in 2006. Investigator Gloria Coppola led the case until her 2015 retirement, which is when Detective Kevin Nodo took over. Anytime you have a missing person case, until you find the person, you can't say the circumstances of the disappearance. State Police Major Crimes Investigator Kevin Nodo said to journalists following Craig's disappearance, This is one where we are keeping our options open. People may have information they don't think is important, but oftentimes it is the little things in these cases that are the keys that open up that door. Noto said, adding that other people may have told police something early

on in the investigation, but it's possible the tip was never passed on to the right person. Until you have something to work off of, you really don't know what kind of case you're dealing with. In some ways, missing person cases can be more difficult than a cold case homicide because with a homicide, you know what kind of case you're working, Noto said. On the 15th anniversary of Craig's disappearance, just shy of what would have been his 30th birthday, his mother spoke to local journalists in a rare interview, during which she asked for privacy to be allowed to grieve in peace. All the time I think about it. What would he be doing? She said. The worst part

is, for all of us, for his family, is we just miss him horribly. But the worst thing is knowing that there is somebody out there who knows what happened to my son and I'm on my knees hoping, praying there's someone out there who can help us understand what happened to my boy. Around the same time of the 15th anniversary, a group of concerned citizens from the Scotia and Glenville areas got together to organize a candlelit vigil to commemorate a tragedy that affected each and every one of them. It was partly organized in the hopes that their efforts would jog the memories of those who may have seen or heard anything around the time that Craig went missing, those who might come forward to the police with information, no matter how vague or unhelpful they might deem it

to be. In cases like these, it seems even the most unlikely leads have the potential to produce results. It seems unlikely that Craig will ever be found. Investigating police have conducted almost 70 different search efforts over the years in an attempt to find any trace of human remains, clothes, or his belongings. These searches are usually conducted in spring or late fall when there is the least amount of snow or fallen leaf litter on the ground. Police have also frequently used sniffer dogs and their handlers out on foot patrols. Their goal is to search the route Craig would have taken back to his parents' house in the woods behind Cambridge Manor. Forensic divers and other nautical technicians have also been used to

examine local streams, lakes, and rivers, but these searches have also turned out to be fruitless. Pete Irizzo, the former sports editor for the regional news publication The Times Union, who was responsible for researching and writing about Freer's disappearance for many years, said the story had an indelible effect on him. He later recalled that when he first heard of Craig's mysterious disappearance he thought, wow, how does a popular 17-year-old, assumed to be captain of his soccer team, just up and disappear from the face of the earth. The incident has affected Pete so much that every time he and his wife drive through the Scotia area, Craig's

disappearance is one of the first things they think of. The idea of how someone could simply vanish without a trace is something that haunts him even to this day. Pete is now the spokesperson for the University of Albany athletics program, having moved on from journalism entirely, but since he now has two young children, he lives in almost constant fear that they too could suffer a similar fate, and that he would also be left with a legion of unanswered questions. You can't imagine not knowing where your child is for five minutes, but 15 years not knowing?

Pete said in a recent interview with his former employers. The article is quick to note that Pete sounded genuinely disturbed and distressed when talking about the case. Freer's social security number has not been used since his disappearance, indicating that he has not paid taxes, opened a bank account, or applied for a job in the United States. This led us to believe that either he has managed to fake an entirely new identity, which would prove extremely difficult and time-consuming, or more likely that he is deceased, which raises the question, what would exactly have killed Craig that day, and for what reason? It seems that there are two very likely explanations that have been completely neglected by investigating police.

The first being that Craig was murdered by his ex-girlfriend, who pursued him through the woods before attacking him, possibly with a firearm, before somehow disposing of his body in such an effective way that the police would have been unable to find it. Yet there are a few serious holes in this theory, the first being that Craig was something of a big guy and did a lot of training as part of his high school soccer program. Not only would he have been difficult to overpower or chase after, but moving and disposing of his body without leaving any DNA or forensic traces would be near impossible for his girlfriend, who wasn't nearly as tall or strong as she would have needed to be to perform such a feat.

However, if there was another man in her life, one that was supremely and violently jealous of Craig, there could well be a chance that it was this person that took it upon themselves to remove Craig from the picture. There could well be a chance that this was on person that took it upon themselves to remove Craig from the picture, there could well be a chance that this was on the orders of Craig's ex-girlfriend herself, that she planned the idea in her new boyfriend's head to get rid of the guy that was bothering her so much. But as it stands, these ideas are pure speculation, even if they are the most likely, given that the ex-girlfriend was the last person Craig visited before he disappeared. Craig may have simply vanished from the face of the earth but there simply must be remnants that remain behind no matter how difficult these are to find. Whether or not great scrutiny of his

ex-girlfriend is required in order to find them is perhaps the most pertinent question we are left with. The fact remains that the final act on his earth, it seems, was for Craig to go and visit her, so it seems obvious that the key to finding him lies with her. Relationships turn sour, go wrong, and fall apart all the time, but very few end in a death or disappearance. There could be no way Craig could possibly have known that visiting his ex that day would have resulted in the end of his life, but again, the fact remains that on this occasion, for this young man, a visit to an ex proved to be as deadly as it was unwise. I'm from West Virginia and I moved all the way to Lexington, Kentucky for a girl.

Now that might be well the scariest part of the story, that a dude from West Virginia moved over the border to Kentucky and only for a girl, but I assure you, it gets worse. A lot worse. She was super affectionate when we first got together like I couldn't have wished for a better girlfriend. But as time went on and we got more secure in the whole thing, that affection dropped off to next to nothing. It was a slow process, almost like a leaky bucket or something. I barely noticed the relationship dropping off bit by bit until one day I just realized that there was nothing left of us. We were like roommates more than anything, hardly spent any time together, didn't actually get intimate for like months at a time and in the

end, sleeping in the same bed as her was so depressing that I ended up just staying on the couch. Not long after I started calling the couch my bed, we broke up formally. It sucked but I saw it coming a long way off and it wasn't entirely unwelcome. And that's when I started talking to this girl on Reddit. Now I should make it perfectly clear that I was never ever unfaithful to my girlfriend. Only when we broke up, I was so starved for affection and female attention that I looked for it wherever I could. I wasn't confident for dating apps I don't think, so Reddit's anonymity suited me just fine. Eventually me and this girl that I met on the r slash gaming sub swapped numbers and actually started planning to meet. She lived over in Arizona but flying down

there to meet her didn't seem like a big deal at all, not when she was so nice and pretty too. I remember staying up super late talking to her one night, trying to keep my voice down so my ex wouldn't hear. We planned all the stuff we'd do together, all the places that she'd take me in Phoenix, all the bomb Mexican food we were going to eat. I was excited and I went to sleep smiling, but I sure didn't wake up that way. I woke up to loud crashing noises just feet away from me in the TV room. At first I thought it was a home invasion or something, but when I looked around, it was her, my ex, and she was smashing my Xbox with a baseball bat over and over again. I screamed at her, asking her what she thought she was doing,

then went to grab my phone so I could call the cops. Only it wasn't on the coffee table, where I usually put it on charge every night. It was nowhere to be seen. That's when my ex started ranting about how I'd been cheating, how she knew everything, then mentioned the reddit girl by name before she swung at me with the baseball bat. I fell backwards over the couch trying to avoid the strike and I did but Jesus Christ the whole rush of air as it went past my face just about put the fear of God into me. She chased me around the apartment, swinging that bat as hard as she could until I locked myself in her bathroom.

I thought I might be able to reason with her from the other side of the door to be able to actually explain that the reddit girl was someone I started talking to after we broke up. But she actually tried to bash the door down and I'm still amazed that she didn't manage it. Like it was legit like that scene from The Shining. She bashed a hole in one of the wood panels and proceeded to scream through that. Thank god it wasn't big enough for her to reach through and unlock the door, otherwise I'd have been in some serious trouble. Eventually she calmed down enough to stop trying to kill me, but she wanted me out of the apartment, like that night. I didn't even gather everything up. I just threw some essentials into a bag and got out of there. I kept imagining her sneaking up with a kitchen knife or something, catching me off guard and then just stabbing me to death or something. I've had friends ask me why I didn't just restrain her, why I was so scared of a girl, but that's about the dumbest response I've ever had to this whole story.

I swing from that bat or a stab wound in the right place, it wouldn't have mattered what was or wasn't dangling between a person's legs, I'd have been dead as a doornail. I got out of there pretty fast, drove to a motel, then tried and failed to sleep through the rest of the night. The next morning, I called my mom in West Virginia, told her everything, and arranged to stay with her for a little while until I could get back on my feet. I'd have gone back to the apartment to get the rest of my things if I didn't think that she'd either smash or burned everything I owned. Besides, I was just happier to be out of there by that point, and I'll tell you another thing. I have never, ever been back to Kentucky since then.

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If you have questions or concerns about your gambling or someone close to you, please contact Connex Ontario at 1-866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. I am now a 72 year old man. This happened long ago but I remember it so well. The background was a series of events that placed me in a mountain cabin outside of Frederick, Maryland circa 1969 or 1970. Just say my life at the time was in disarray. I had dropped out of college, my father had died very badly, and I was alienated. I needed to get my mind right. The opportunity to move to an isolated cabin, to live in contemplation and solitude was welcome.

I had some inheritance money to pay for it. To the best of my memory, I was there 8-9 months. No TV, but books and radio. I had a library card, and I can't remember if I even had a phone. The story begins when a month into my stay, a female beagle showed up at my door. She was a lost dog, and I took her in. I never could train her to do anything but I fed her and she was a sweet, if not the brightest, dog A few months in I began to feel a presence around the isolated cabin Hard to describe but I felt like someone was watching On many occasions I thought someone might even be looking into my cabin window, watching us. The next phase was the shadowing or following. I knew the folks a half mile down the lane,

woods all around, and would sometimes visit them at night. Someone, something was waiting for me, and followed closely in the woods beside me in the darkness. You could hear it easily, footsteps in the woods, and it picked up its pace as I did. This not only happened to me, but to my younger brother who visited and to friends, and it spooked them big time. At night, it was out there around the cabin. Here's the funny thing. I was never afraid. Never felt threatened. Not at all, at least early on. There was no feeling of malevolence. I spent a good bit of time wandering the vast areas of woodlands around me. There was a state park just up the hill and the Frederick Municipal Forest went on for mile after mile. The whole of western Maryland was much more country

than it is now, none of the development had set in yet. In our hikes, the dog and I, we came across evidence of campsites, recent ones in the woods. Traces of fires, old abandoned buildings that had corners that gave shelter and looked slept in. Garbage, food and drink, paper, what have you. Perhaps hunters, but much of it did not have the organized feel that you would get from experienced hunters. The last month of my stay there was when things intensified. Maybe he sensed I was preparing to leave. In the mornings, I would find small dead animals at the bottom of the front porch steps. The cabin had a small front porch screen with a light door and four wooden steps to the ground. A spotlight would illuminate the long front yard with woods close by

either side. Dead animals began to appear at the bottom of the steps many mornings. I remember small birds, then a squirrel, a rabbit, even a weasel one day. Like they were offerings. I had to grab them up before the dog ate them, and this went on almost daily for several weeks. One night, very late, I was awoken by some sound. I lay in bed and heard something from the front porch. I hopped up and hit the lights and I saw that hound dog who never learned to sit or stay, standing at the front door in a perfect pointer position. She was shaking in fear.

She never barked. I heard the door slam and footsteps down the steps. I hit the spotlight but saw nothing. I heard the door slam and footsteps down the steps. I hit the spotlight but saw nothing. I went out. He had been on the porch at my front door, maybe trying to enter. After that, I stayed in at night more and more. The animal offerings got bigger and bigger. Larger birds, a possum, a woodchuck. It really, really wasn't funny. The final two gifts were legs, either from horses or even cows. Big and bloody, one with skin, dear god. And the second to last day, the dog left me. I could hear her in the woods howling on a trail following a scent.

I looked for her in every way I could. Came up in the following weeks, but to no avail. She left as she came. I moved back to Maryland's suburbs of DC, got an apartment with a friend, got a job and moved on with my life. One day not long after, I picked up the Washington Post and there was an article about recent encounters with a Sykesville monster. It's described as a tall, yeti-like creature, fur covered, on two legs that would pick out a family or person and give them attention. I wasn't the only one. That attention described in the article was exactly what had happened to me, following you at night, looking inside the house,

gifts and so on. I was shocked. If I had turned on that spotlight and seen a Bigfoot or Yeti, I might still be running. But I think I know who it was. Sykesville, Maryland was the location of the Springfield Hospital Center, a large state psychiatric hospital. It was 20 miles or so east of Frederick, and back then, many folks knew how to live in the woods. They grew up that way, country folks. I think the monster was actually an escaped patient, or just a free schizophrenic who lived outside. This is like all the homeless you see in the cities now, probably off his meds, but somehow functional and just lonely. He would pick people or families to adopt, so to speak. The camps in the woods could have been him.

Nothing to do, he would make mischief. I think he liked me, but sensed that I was leaving. Now, I can't prove any of this, it's just my theory. My monster was very much of that time and place, and his behavior was what I noticed in nearly every case then. I don't think he could have survived until the 1980s. Deinstitutionalization of mental hospitals threw the mentally ill out into the streets and took away the shelter of hospitals. Unprotected, the mentally ill do die, but once in a while, they find their way to you. A few years back, my then-boyfriend and I, I being a 22-year-old female, were living in a one-bedroom apartment in downtown Denver, about a mile away from the coveted Larimer Square and Taurus' favorite 16th Street. The location was fantastic,

but with people-dense areas often comes trouble. We live in a historic house with four townhouses next to one another. The layout is important to the story. All four front doors were aligned on a single porch. The apartment was located next to an alley and was the last door on the left. Due to a work obligation, my boyfriend was sent on a three-month-long work assignment, leaving me alone in the house with our two dogs. No sweat off my back. After growing up in a small town in the northeast, I was eager to explore. My days after work were filled with long walks around the dog parks and exploring restaurants and craft breweries in downtown. All was well, until it wasn't. Being alone most of

the time and raised in a town of 4,000 of my cousins, exaggeration but not really, I was docile and trusting, the worst combination. After a month into being alone in the city, I would come home to three men smoking outside my door. The first encounter, I decided to keep walking and called a nearby friend to help me get into my house safely. I thought this was a one-time thing, but weeks later, the men continually showed up. It was routine. When I got home at 5pm, they were there lighting up a cigarette, almost like they were there waiting for me. I was finally at my wits end and asked them if they lived here and whether they could verify that with my landlord. None of them answered and two proceeded to walk down the alley,

but one remained stone cold and standing his ground, continuing to smoke. I was upset and I repeated the question, do you live here? Can you verify this? He stared at me with dark cold eyes and put his cigarette out on my door, only to brush my shoulder as he left my property. Safe to say, I was unnerved. I reached out to my boyfriend to let him know what had happened and he relayed the message to our landlady. A few days had gone by since my past encounter and there were no signs of these men. I felt pretty good about myself. I had taken for granted being able to walk up my apartment steps without being fearful.

I had made it to Friday and decided to treat myself to a few drinks with local friends. I had become diligent about locking windows and doors. Being next to an alley made me feel extra vulnerable and after my confrontation with the porch creeps, I was on edge. My night out was enjoyable and after a few beers I decided it was time to go home. Thankfully a friend of mine insisted on making sure that I got into my house safely. After all, he was the one who had assisted me on a few occasions before. I arrived home and he walked me to my door but upon arrival, my door was covered in ash and the porch floor in cigarette butts with the aroma of freshly smoked cigarettes in the air. He could see the fear on my face and offered to sleep on the couch to keep watch but I told him that I would be fine on my own.

I stayed up a bit longer double checking locks and pulling my blinds down. After about 20 minutes I retreated to my bedroom which faced my front door, being sure to keep the door ajar so my Rhodesian Ridgeback could be aware of anything happening outside my door. After a bit of Netflix I finally dozed off. Until 3am when I awoke to my dog growling. I was petrified. Something in me knew tonight was the night he or they would be back. I got out of my bed slowly trying to make as little sound as possible. I peered out my door and saw a single hand on the stained glass window and a pair of eyes peering in. Sure enough, he was back.

I had unfortunately left my kitchen lamp on, exposing my house to the outside world and knew if he saw me, it was game on. Slowly and quietly I made my way to the lamp and turned it off so he could no longer see me, which ensued terror. The man, appearing to be shirtless and yelling slurs at me, began pounding on my door demanding entrance. I retreated to my room and called 911 who told me to stay low, avoid interaction, and to stay on the line until the officers arrived. I couldn't stand to watch him punching the window because I knew it was a race between him and the officers for whoever got to me first. Finally there was a loud crash. I peered through the door crack to see that he had upgraded from a hand to a brick, causing the glass to begin cracking.

I remember vividly, it had been almost 10 minutes on the phone with dispatch at this point with officers 10 minutes away from my home. After a few more brick throws, I watched him scale the porch to my window, continuing to try to obliterate the glass leaving the cracks in his wake. And then there was silence. I once again looked toward my door to see him looking back at me, cigarette in hand, until the cops arrived. I was told to wait for a knock on my door which finally came and to tell me it was safe to come out. I made it outside just as they were putting him in the back of the vehicle which he yelled, bye Pete. This shook me to my core. Only my family referred to me as that and they were thousands of miles away. I realized that he had been watching,

listening, waiting. He probably knew my boyfriend was gone and most likely heard me refuse to have my friend stay here. I watched the vehicle drive away and called whoever I could get a hold of at this hour. Come morning, my mom finally called me back and told me to get in touch with officers and press charges, something that entirely slipped my mind during the mayhem. I called them back and asked them to get the paperwork, only to be told that he was put in the hospital and ran off before properly identifying him. To be continued... Two to three years ago I was 20, just an Egyptian guy studying law in the nightmare period of finals, barely getting any sleep or any showers. This is important because that meant my beard grew a lot and looked nasty and my hair poofed into soft curls and I pretty much looked like trash. For this story to make sense I'm going to give you some background. About a decade or half a decade ago, there was this political group called Muslim

Brotherhood. They are made of Islamists, so you are thinking long beard and very religious views, almost extreme religious views. So a coup disguised as a revolution took place and the guy who led it marked them as terrorists to remove any major political parties that can stand in his way. That means if you had a long beard you were probably hunted, imprisoned, killed, tortured, or a mix of all of them. Years pass and things are much calmer. 20 year old me is anxious, stressed, and nervous. I do not want to fail my exam. If anything,

I wanted good scores. So here I am looking like absolute doo-doo with very messy beard and hair. I am almost late for finals and I am walk sprinting while reading my notes again and again and again. And this guy in civilian clothes asks me to stop. Obviously I don't, I'm in a hurry, and I'm very nervous and the last thing I need is to lose my focus. So he tells me that he's a cop, and now I am too nervous and I ask him in a very nervous way, what? Show me your ID. And he says to just come with him. You can only imagine how I feel. Firstly, I am pretty much shaking by now. I didn't do anything wrong, why would I be stopped? Am I going to be sent to the police department? What about my finals? There's also this very good chance that he could be somewhat dangerous.

He starts grabbing me by the arm and I yell at the top of my lungs for help. Nobody helps, they just look at me and pass me by. The guy then grabs me by the neck with his elbow and drags me to an empty cafe. I thought to myself, Yep, I'm gonna die today, and started whispering my prayers. I get told to calm the F down, and they sit me down, and the supervisor and his team, they're all in civilian clothes,

and the supervisor basically yells at me, either you shut up, or I will send you for three hours of investigations at the department. Your choice. I'm now shaking and almost on the verge of tears. It was a humiliating experience. They take my ID to inquire about it and I keep explaining I have a law exam and that I need to get to so they tell me to stay still and be quiet or they'll make it take longer. Luckily one of the cops was very kind to me. He kept asking me questions about the exams and looked at my notes to talk to me about it and was just very nice. Here's the thing, I had no idea why on earth I'm being searched up. At least I didn't until they dragged another much older

person but with a long and I mean Gandalf long beard and they asked him about the brotherhood and then they asked me why have I grown my beard to which I replied I don't really have time for hygiene I have finals. Then they asked about my family and asked if I had any relatives or if I knew anyone who was in the brotherhood. I told them that I do not know anyone and about my family and asked if I had any relatives or if I knew anyone who was in the brotherhood. I told them that I do not know anyone and that my family and I tend to keep to ourselves. When I realized where this was going, I decided to show them my phone. I mostly had rock and metal music and the people here have the misconception that metal is the devil's music. It was worth a shot and I don't think they would have accused me of being

a devil worshipper. They finally finished checking on the database and gave me my ID back and they literally asked me a question that left me speechless. Why did you scream for help? I can't really tell them it's because they dragged me forcefully can I so I just told them that I got mugged this way before and they literally all just laughed at me. I actually ended up apologizing to the supervisor because this took place about 10 minutes away from where I live and the last thing I needed is being a target. I finally made it to the exam room but I'm a whole hour late. I couldn't enter with a note so instead of stashing my notebook I was too angry so I just threw it away and entered. I solved all that I could but honestly I didn't

have the focus. Every time I wrote something I kept having flashbacks of what happened so when I had enough and made sure I solved all the questions I got I just wanted to go home. I only got a passing mark for this subject. Sometimes this memory pops up from here and there and every time I do I remember the humiliation I felt back then. I don't think I could have done anything differently back then which just makes it worse because that probably means if I am faced with this situation again there would be nothing I can do unless I have a higher power than them. This story took place about two years ago. I was about 16, 5'6", who either looked like a 12-year-old boy or a 16-year-old tomboy depending on the person.

At the time as well I suffered with really bad anxiety and you could definitely see it on my body language. I was definitely visually an easy target for predators. So I was a 16 year old kid just picking up hardbacks from my last year in school. After I had done shopping I decided to catch a tram back to my dad's workplace and then he would take me home. It was a Sunday morning, pretty chilly and it definitely had an uneasy feel. I hated going to a town alone but no one else was available to join me so I sucked it up and did the deed. The trams were new at the time and I had only taken them two or three times so I was definitely hypervigilant on them, especially since I suffer with anxiety. Hypervigilant so I didn't miss my stop and

hypervigilant that nothing weird happens as the tram was notorious for weird people. I walked my tram stop and as I wait, I see the next tram is soon. But there is a guy making me unbelievably uneasy. I hate assuming the worst of people, but this man was making me so uncomfortable. Nothing in particular was off about him, he looked a bit scruffy, but not a predator. So I decided to walk away from the stop for a bit and wait for the tram coming to pass, then return and get to the one after. They come often enough and this dude was just giving me the creeps. I walk away for a bit, take a nice relaxing stroll to calm myself down and return to the stop.

He's still there. When I left he definitely watched me leave and waited for me to return. Now at the time I was doubting myself, I was telling myself I'm being irrational. Something like a creepy dude following me couldn't happen to me, surely. Wrong. We got to the tram. My tram takes about 5 stops to my dad's workplace. I walked down the tram a bit. The man was still in my eyeline and I was in his. Now my dad's workplace is about a 5 minute stroll from my tram stop but it is a walk down a quiet area. An area that someone could easily assault you or take you and not many would take notice, especially on a Sunday morning. At each stop I am praying that this guy gets off the tram but he does not.

My anxiety has hit the roof and although the tram walk is only 5 minutes, I call my dad to pick me up right outside the station. My dad surprisingly obliges. I think that he could tell something was off with me, so all I have to do is walk out of the tram station and make it to the car. I still had hope in my heart that this guy would not get off at my station and go to the next instead. It comes to my stop, I get off, and of course Mr. Creepy gets off too. No one else gets off but us two. Alright. The guy looks at me and I look at him. We make eye contact. I could tell he was planning on walking in my direction and following me out. I can see him panic a little and then he walks in the opposite direction to me. Now the chilling part is about this. This station only has one

exit. This man turns around and walks onto the tracks of the tram and just wanders off. I didn't stay too long to see if he would come back and I sped walked to my dad's car. When I get into my dad's car I double check with him that there was only one exit to the station as the tram is only new and I was unfamiliar with it. He says yes there is. Only one exit and I'm completely covered in goosebumps. This man waited for me to get onto the tram even though he could have taken an earlier one, followed me to the station, and decided to last minute abort mission. I have tried to rationally explain this to myself.

Maybe he wasn't following me and he was just some weird dude, but why did his presence make me so uneasy that I decided to walk away and wait for the next tram? Why did he wait for the next tram when he could have gotten an earlier one? What are the chances of the man getting off at the same stop as me? Why did he not use the exit and walk onto the tracks instead? It's not like I gave him a death stare. We just made eye contact when we got off the tram and I was a 5, 6, 16 year old kid. Definitely not intimidating. All I know about this experience is that I was just glad my dad picked me up outside the station and I never want to experience that feeling of being followed again. This happened when I was about 12 years old in Kansas.

I was sitting in my bedroom playing Halo. My parents were both running errands and my sister was at work so I was home alone with my two dogs, a little terrier and a Bichon Frise. Not exactly the attack dog breeds, more like early warning systems at best. I'd been home alone before and it really was not a big deal. We live in a pretty safe part of town that's never had any problems other than one time where some people sprayed some hate symbols on some public park equipment. But either way, I was kicking back in my chair, Doritos in one hand, controller in the other, full gamer mode when I heard the very distinct sound of my door open and close like someone had just come in.

The room I was in faced in such a way where I could not see the front door. My dogs got up and ran into the living room, and so I just assumed my parents were home. I shouted for my mom to confirm this, and I heard no response. My dogs were also not barking like they normally do when someone gets home. I thought that was kind of weird so I paused my game and walked out into the living room. Nothing. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I heard someone come in, clear as day. I was not wearing headphones. I had the TV turned down and was listening to music, so I knew it couldn't have been the game. I immediately went to my parents' closet and grabbed our shotgun,

like a good midwest boy tends to do. The only problem with that was that I didn't know where my dad kept the shells, so my plan was to fake it and hope they didn't have a gun of their own. Stupid plan, as I wasn't the brightest kid, obviously. At this point, doubts started to kick in. Had I actually heard the door? Was it the game? But then I thought, why would the dogs jump up like that if it was? I walked back into my living room, unloaded shotgun, pointing it in front of me. I tried to call my dad, he didn't pick up. I tried to call my mom, she didn't pick up. I tried to call two of my best friends and they didn't pick up. My 12 year old mind immediately jumped to, oh my god,

they're all dead. And so for the first time in my life I had to call 911. The operator picked up, I explained the situation with tears in my eyes from fear. She told me to stay calm and that the police were on their way. The difficult part about staying calm was that there was a hallway by my front door. I knew in my heart of hearts that there was someone in that hallway about to jump out and really mess up my day. My two dogs were right by me, also staring towards the hallway. This didn't help the fear. I stood there rooted to the spot of what felt like an hour but was actually only a few minutes, the operator's voice in my ear telling me to stay calm. Thankfully, my parents opened the front door. They screamed out, asking me what in God's name I thought I was doing. I explained to my father the situation we are currently in.

He grabs his pistol from the front room, didn't know that was there, thanks dad, and we go hunting. I always thought it would be cool to go around clearing rooms and stuff like a SWAT team but god if I wasn't about to soil myself every time we opened the bedroom door, we didn't find anything. The police arrived shortly after and told us that this had been happening over the past few weeks. People wait until homeowners leave, check the door, and if it's unlocked they go in and take valuables. They said whoever it was probably left when they heard that someone was home, which never quite sat right with me because I only heard the door open and close once.

Ever since this happened I have triple checked every door and window lock when I am home alone. To whoever walked in my house that day, I never saw you, and I really hope I never do. I've lived in Utah for most of my life other than a few years in Wyoming. I'm an Uber Eats driver in Utah and have been for a couple of years now. What I'm about to tell you took place about 5 days ago. I had just gotten finished with a shift of delivering food and was on the phone with my mother when I got the bright idea to go looking for a former apartment that we had lived in when I was younger. Now normally I carry my new 9mm on me but that was at home so I decided that I would go home to pick it up so that

I don't have no defense if I get into a bad situation. My mother had done some research on the address of the apartment. The apartment used to be called Midtown Villa and was never full of gang activity when I was younger. So I had typed the address into my google maps and drove over there. I pulled in and realized that the apartment is now called the Calaveras and everything was now looking better than it used to so I let my guard down which looking back on now I regret. I started pulling through the apartments with my mom on the phone which we had then agreed that I could put her on video chat so that she could see the new upgrades. I had pulled back through the entrance off the main road and started showing

my mother the building that used to be our apartment building and I was pointing at the building and empty lot next to it. That empty lot used to be a playground when I was a kid. First mistake, I was using a phone to show my mother which made it look like I was recording. Second mistake, I was pointing. Third mistake, I was in a bad area and let my guard down. Now why did I tell you those mistakes? Because what I didn't realize is while I was showing my mother, I was passing a guy and a girl and pointing. Now I know all that alone doesn't seem bad but apparently I angered someone who must have thought that I was recording them. Even though I had my

9mm with me in a loaded magazine, I had made some odd choices due to the fact that I'm a very direct person. As I continue forward I realize that I'm being chased by the guy who is now on foot after me. He's yelling at me, calling me out and asking if I wanted to tussle after a while of running towards me and taking photos of my car. Now before realizing it I was suddenly moving forward faster in my car and my mind was made up. I was getting out of there and driving off. Now the events that are about to take place are due to the fact that I have some extensive training outside of others' knowledge even though I had let most of that slip. My adrenaline was pumping and instead of harnessing it, I mistakenly let it control my actions.

With my mom still on video chat, I suddenly took notice of a car pulling up fast behind me. I took off out of there. The car was then behind me. I turned right. They turned right. Same turn I made again, they followed. So I went up to 9000 south and took a right after stopping, thinking that I was just being paranoid. Nope. They followed me all the way to 1300 west. And that's where I turned right again. And, they followed me all the way to 1300 west, and that's where I turned right again, and guess who followed? Now I'm not going to lie, I was very nervous with multiple scenarios playing in my head because I knew that I was in a bad situation. I knew that if it came down to it, I had my pistol. I know what you're thinking, dial 911. Well, I'm the type of person who rarely does that,

and I wanted to get out of this on my own. While all these scenarios crossed my mind, I suddenly got the bright idea to turn right onto 7800 south, so I did, and then they did. But this time a semi had gotten between us, right behind me. I was happy until the semi had turned left, then I knew I had to figure out what to do next. My next decision was to turn left. I approached the next light in the left turn lane to get on the road that leads to 7200 south where the I-15 on-ramp was. What I didn't think about was what would happen if they followed me. What will happen next will make you reconsider not asking for help when you need it if you're like me. I turned left, they followed, and sped

up on my right in that lane, so I immediately swerved over after turning my signal on and got in front of them, because let's face it, if they get next to me, it could be game over. So I slowed down a little, then they got in the left lane and sped up next to me, it could be game over. So I slowed down a little. Then they got in the left lane and sped up next to me. So I sped up and just as we hit 90 miles per hour as well. I slammed on my brakes and they slammed on theirs and turned right. If I had been there, I could have been hit and rolled my car and even died. At the very least, I would be in hospital.

That's when they took off down the road on their right and I booked it to the interstate, drove to a grocery store near my house and called the police department near the apartment complex to report it. The dispatcher then informed me that I should have called 911 to make the situation easier and they would have directed me to the nearest police station with officers outside to deal with anything that followed me to the parking lot. The officer then called me and we talked about it and he had gone on to tell me that that area was very problematic with gang activity. He believes that my extreme concern and judgment were very accurate so I had made the report just to make it before anyone else had so I knew that I wouldn't get a knock on the door at some later point. So I then headed home and didn't let my guard down until I got home and knew that I

was safe. I told my fiance about it the very next day and she told me never to deliver in that area without some form of protection. So in closing, number one, don't ever leave yourself without protection. Number two, always ask for help when you need it because otherwise your life could be at stake. Number three, don't be naive to your situation. I hope this doesn't happen to anyone else. And also just remember that it's not the people with pistols in their holsters that you have to watch out for. It is people who tuck them into their waistbands without a holster that you have to watch out for. It is people who tuck them into their waistbands without a holster that you have to watch out for. Be safe, and thanks for listening. So I'm a female and this happened when I was very young, maybe 14.

My life had gone pretty haywire and I didn't spend a lot of time at home. My parents had filed for divorce during which time my mother had kind of lost it and had allowed me to do pretty much whatever I wanted since she was going through plenty in her own life and mind. Then my dad suddenly moved back in and that all came to a screeching halt and I wasn't too cool with it. So my reaction was to stay doing whatever I wanted anyway as much as possible which ended up getting me quite literally thrown out of the house permanently but that's a whole other story. So I had two friends that I hung out with normally that were about 4 years older than me and had just graduated high school and at the time I think I was still lying to them about how old I was.

They were both 18 and I told them I was 16 when I was actually 14. We planned on a camping trip without any definite destination but being that we lived in Colorado Springs, the mountains and vast possibilities for potential camping spots were only a hop, skip, and jump away. So we headed west into the mountains, in two separate vehicles and several other people. One of which was this gigantic guy that I didn't like much and always gave me the creeps and since this was 25 plus years ago, I can't honestly remember his name so we'll call him Brian. So about halfway up the mountain, one of my two friends realizes she left something

important back home and needs to turn back and go retrieve it. So me and my other friend and our carload of people, including Brian, continue on our way up. We make it to the middle of nowhere in the mountains and still have no clue where we're going to camp, so we're more or less wandering around in the woods on dirt roads with civilization and distant memory, and our car breaks down. And to make matters worse, right around that time it begins to rain,

but since we're already prepared to camp, that's what we do overnight. Brian is sitting with us the next morning and pulls out a handgun he says he stole from the parents of one of the girls that's in the other vehicle, and Brian goes from being creepy to downright scary. Because not only does this guy seem to have a very short fuse but now we also know he's armed with a deadly weapon and we're stranded with him in the middle of nowhere. So we all decide without Brian that we should watch what we say to this guy and try to keep him from blowing a fuse on us. All of us now muddy and dirty from setting up tents in the rain on the side of the road, we decide that we shouldn't just sit there and hope that our caravan returns and is able to find us. So we pack up our gear and get back on the road and wait for someone to pass. And not a soul does.

So we start walking, all four of us and all of our camping gear, till we make it to a paved road. After an hour or two a truck finally comes into view on the highway and we all flag him down. We explain what had happened and ask for a ride to a phone and the guy graciously loads us and all of our gear into the back of his truck. We finally make it to a phone and the guy graciously loads us and all of our gear into the back of his truck. We finally make it to a phone and call our friend who tells us for some reason that I can't remember now that she had decided to just not go with us and to stay in town but she does agree to come to where we are and pick us all up. When we finally make it back the friend that came to get us tells us that she had spoken to the

girl whose parents Brian had stolen the gun from, who had been in her car, and she told her that Brian had gone on the camping trip with us because he had shot and killed someone with that gun and he was trying to hide out. I imagine that had been the actual reason for her having decided to not come, but it had also left the rest of us stranded in the middle of nowhere with a killer still armed with his murder weapon. Thankfully though, we are finally back in civilization, unscathed, alive, and I believe the guy did end up being arrested a short time after that, but dear god, did realizing I had been literally stranded in the middle of nowhere with a murderer for three days hit me like a ton of

bricks when it was all over. We'll be right back. light truck tires and receive up to $70 by prepaid MasterCard. Conditions apply. Details at michelin.ca. Find a Michelin Tread Experts dealer near you at treadexperts.ca slash locations. From tires to auto repair, we're always there at treadexperts.ca. Me and some of my buddies used to go to this place called Profile Rock in Freetown, Massachusetts, late at night, sometimes between 2 to 3 in the morning. One night during the summer, I go to Profile Rock with three of my friends at 2.30am just to mess about and explore Now I didn't know this at the time but Profile Rock and the area we were in is part of an area called the Bridgewater Triangle Which is a site of alleged paranormal activities and also one of the most haunted areas in the state I live in Continuing on we climbed Profile Rock itself, stayed up on top of

it for maybe three to four hours, and we all decided to leave. Now as you're leaving Profile Rock, you have to go down this long path that's about two miles long to get back to where we parked our car. Two of my friends are walking about 30 to 20 feet in front of me and my other friend. Now, I'll never know why I turned around. I didn't have a feeling like someone was watching us. I just simply turned around because besides the moonlight shining through the trees in certain areas, we only had cell phone flashlights to make our way around. I remember turning around and seeing someone running at us from about 150 feet away, full speed. What threw me off wasn't that they were running at us, it was how they were running. You know how a zombie walks in a horror movie dragging one of its legs almost limping?

That's how this someone was running at us. At first I didn't say anything and possibly assumed it was one of my friends or someone that was already in there who got injured and needed assistance, until this someone made it to an area of the path where the moonlight reached through the trees and gave them some perspective. What I saw still chokes me up to this day. You ever see a child try to draw a person? How they make a stick figure most of the time? That's exactly how this someone looked. I caught maybe a ten second glance as it was running under the moonlit trees but I saw no distinguishable facial features, no eyes, no mouth, and no ears. Its arms and legs looked like that of an extremely malnourished person,

only completely black and it didn't look like skin or any type of clothing from what I could see. I almost can't even describe it to be honest and you could blatantly tell it wasn't a mask or one of those Halloween blacked out suits. I recall calling out to my friend in a panicked voice, who was walking with me who was now maybe 10 feet ahead of myself I shined my cell phone light on him as he was looking where I was just looking and I could tell right away from his facial expression that I wasn't seeing things it was now maybe 40 feet away from us if that almost the same distance as our friends in front of us and me and my friend just took

flight and started running. My two other friends in front shot around and asked us what was wrong and I just replied to just run and all four of us jetted for our car. I remember taking a glance back as we were running and there was nothing there even though whatever was chasing us would certainly be on our tails by now. We all hopped in the car and my friend who was walking with me yells, dude tell me you've seen that. What was that? I told him I had seen the same thing. I asked him to describe to all of us what he saw and he described literally the exact same thing I witnessed. By now my two other

friends are thinking we're just messing around with them. Until my friend who was walking with me swore on his father who had passed away not even a month ago that he's telling the truth. I was kind of frustrated to be honest because I couldn't believe my other two friends didn't see it as they turned around to question why we were running but it didn't matter now. We actually went back there with a few more people the day after and witnessed nothing, of course. I'll never know what it was, or who it was, or what it wanted. But I know one thing. There's no way two people both imagined seeing some stick figure specter in the woods. I was 16 years old and already at boarding school for roughly 5 years.

My boarding school was situated in buildings that were originally used as a convent for priests and was also used as a graveyard in the middle ages. It has now been around for over 170 years as a school, going through two world wars, during which it was also used as a field hospital by the German army. Now the thing you should know about the boarding school is that it was located in two large buildings separated by a large playground. The boarding school itself was located on the top floors of each building, separated by three floors to reach the ground floor. I didn't have good grades that year and was moved over to the other building of the boarding

school with the junior years to be under a stricter routine and longer study hours. We always had about 1 hour and 15 minutes every evening to relax and spend time with friends after studying. For that, there was a large basement with a small TV room with a bar and a gigantic room with pool tables and kicker tables. The thing about the gigantic room was that it only had a single light switch and it was connected to the school's theater and dance room, of which the doors were always locked and its lights always closed. Besides that, there was also a door that

was always locked and supposedly connected the two buildings on the school's premises with a tunnel. Now that evening, I went down to the basement directly after studying, taking along my phone charger. It was a pretty uneventful night and at the end of it, I went up the stairs, going up three floors, finally reaching my room. All of a sudden, I realized that I forgot my charger in the basement and ran up to the supervisor who gave me the keys so I could go down to the basement. Once I was descending the three floors to reach the basement, I started to get this eerie feeling of being watched. The feeling got even worse once I realized that if I would scream, nobody would

hear me as there were three empty floors between myself and the boarding school. Once I reached the basement, I was calm again, unlocking the first door and opening the second one. As I slowly opened the second door, it felt as if though the darkness in that gigantic room was extremely thick, as if though it would swallow me. I know it sounds weird, but that's how it felt. I switched on the lights and started making my way past the ping pong tables towards the back of the gigantic room, roughly 30 meters away from the door and the only light switch. As I made my way to the back, I was suddenly taken over by a massive sense of danger and imminent doom.

I felt as if though I was being ambushed or led into a trap and my heart rate skyrocketed. I quickly turned around and sped walk back to the door when suddenly all the ping pong tables were making extremely loud noises, as if though people were slamming on them with their fists to stir up a fight. I started sprinting to the door in fear that someone might switch off the lights or close the door on me and while I was getting closer to the door, the noise got louder and louder. Once I finally reached it, I switched off the light and slammed the door shut and as soon as the door closed, the noise stopped. I quickly locked the door and ran up as fast as I could, as if my life depended on it, no pun intended, crashing into one of the supervisors

making his way home at the end of the night. He asked me what was going on as I was pale, sweaty, and shaking, and I told him what I experienced. Instead of trying to rationalize what happened, the first thing he said is that he experienced some scary things as well when he had to lock up the basement alone. He also told me to check with another supervisor to make sure nobody was down there. The other supervisor and I went down to the basement again and stopped at the locked door trying to hear if someone was down there or if any students were messing around. We listened quietly and heard someone walking around. As soon as we opened the door, the noise stopped and we opened the lights but nobody was there.

Nevertheless, the back doors of the dancing room and theater was wide open. To this day, I get chills thinking back on this experience. Nobody could have been down there with me, without me noticing it, nor can I explain away the slamming noise coming from the pool tables. It's an experience that has never left me, and although I try to rationalize it, it still haunts me. What could it have been, is what I am wondering now. I work in a hospital as a nurse. I was on a row of nights which I dread. I ended up having five patients, two of which were under care for cancer.

There are two events in here for two separate nights. Number one. The night started normally as I assessed and passed meds to the patients and did my charting and other night duties, stalking and other stuff. Just at around 11pm, one of my palliative patients started ringing complaining that there was a kid running in the room laughing and playing when they should be in bed. I checked the room to make sure that there was no one in the room and reassured him that there were no children in the hospital area we were in. I made him comfortable and left the room. He rang again. I went back to the room to see what he rang for. Agitated, he said that he was just looking to rest comfortably and that people should keep their children under control and not let them jump on his bed playing and

laughing. This time I got the chills but again I reassured him that there were no children since it wasn't the pediatric ward. I told him that I would bring him a sleeping pill to help him fall asleep but that I would be in a few minutes. I started walking back towards the desk and medication room to grab the sleeping pill. A bell rang. I turned around and saw that the indicator above his door was flashing. Slightly annoyed, I walked back to his room. He was agitated in his bed and I asked him what was wrong. He again complained about this kid. He said that he was just in here again. I leaned over the bed and calmly explained, There are no children in this hospital. You need to get some rest.

He replied loudly, He's standing right behind you. I stood up instantly and slowly turned around. Creeped out, I turned to face the patient and before I could speak, he says, He ran into the closet Referring to the lockers where patients can store items I slowly opened the locker and saw that his jacket was swinging but no one was in there I turned and said that there's no one in here and I rushed into the med room to give him his sleeping pill.

Now number two and this is a short one. I came out of one of my patient's room and was sanitizing my hands but facing the wall. As I'm rubbing my hands together I noticed a shadow of something walk out of the room next door and it walked into the room across from it as I turned to see. I went into the room where I walked into. I asked the patient, which was not mine, if anyone came into the room. She replied no, but with a shaky voice. I checked the room to make sure that there was no one in there. I left that room and went into the room where it came from. I looked around, but no one was in there. I checked the patient, again not assigned to me, and found that he had died. He was a palliative care patient.

I walked out of the room immediately to inform the nurse who had the patient that he had passed away. She asked me to come with her to check the patient because she had been having creepy vibes every time she went in there. I agreed and we went. She did the assessment where you listen for a full minute. When she was done, we heard knocking on the wall. She said, see, it's creepy. I didn't think anything of it until she said, we're on the fourth floor and the other side of that wall is the outside of the building. We quickly left the room. Four of us came in there to shroud the body. To be continued... his daughter due to choosing his new wife, her stepmother, over her. His daughter never forgave

him and poor Lloyd spent his last years desperately trying to apologize for his horrendous mistakes and make peace and to try and meet his only granddaughter. Lloyd came to realize that family is everything. It's the only important thing in this life. Sadly, he never did see his daughter or granddaughter. Lloyd would spend his holidays with family instead. We loved him and tried to give him that family connection he was so desperate for. Last year, I had an enormous fight with my mom and blocked her. About two months after that, things started going missing. It was just little things at first.

Once every week or two, and one of my favorite makeup brushes, my good hand cream, my favorite lipstick, my hairbrush, perfume, and worst, my engagement ring, just small but very personal items and only my stuff. And they were all items that have a designated place that I don't put down anywhere else. Over time it became more and more items and more and more frequently until I'd put something down and as soon as I'd reach for it again, it'd be gone. That was happening daily. It was driving me crazy. My house had become super active and the footsteps could be heard at all hours, day and night, doors opening and closing, TVs turning itself on in the middle of the night, the guitars strumming themselves, whispering, lights turning

on and off, etc. I kept asking for my things back, but to no avail. Then two of my dog's paperwork folders went missing. These folders contain all of my dog's important paperwork. Pedigree papers, vaccination certificates, champion titles, etc. I breed and show my dogs and right now I need both of these particular dog folders as one is about to be bred and the other needs her booster vaccination and I need her vax cert to take to the vet with me. I have 10 dogs and keep these folders all together in my filing cabinet. Only these two were missing. And finally it clicked. Bloody Lloyd was behind this. I don't know why I made the connection. Perhaps I could feel it was him. I don't know. At this stage I hadn't spoken to my mom in 11 months and I knew that what Lloyd was upset about

was that. So I unblocked her number in my phone and told Lloyd to stop already, I'm doing it. A few days later I get a text from my mom and I answer it. We start talking again. The activity stops, not another thing goes missing. The house is back to its normal level of activity, not the freak show it had become. I start asking Lloyd for my stuff back and nothing. A week goes by and it's my mom's birthday. I buy her a gift and go around to her place and have a visit. When I get home, I walk through the door and step on my missing engagement ring. You little beauty. Thanks Lloyd, I say. Later that night, I find my favorite makeup

brush on the floor of my bedroom. I vacuumed this morning. It definitely wasn't there then. Again, thanks Lloyd. Yesterday I went out of town to do some Christmas shopping and as well as buying some presents for other people, I bought my mother a present. I came home and my two dog's folders were on the dining room table. And there's nothing else on that table. Ever.

So my dead cousin Lloyd is using theft and bribery to make me have a relationship with my mom. If you knew Lloyd, you'd know it was absolutely his style. Family is the most important thing. In 2018, I went on a semester abroad in Korea, and on one of our weekend trips was to visit the Demilitarized Zone, or the DMZ, between North and South Korea. I wanted to go because I thought it was important for me to understand the place I was in better than just a short academic visitation. We drove up in a tour bus and spent almost the whole day going there, being there, and coming back. Visiting the actual border of the DMZ wasn't that unnerving. The folks stationed there were very nice and

even though they warned us to mind our P's and Q's, I was still at relative ease. I knew I had to be very respectful of this place and try not to goof around or take pictures of too many things. It was really educational and enlightening. And here's where the weird stuff begins. We got back to the bus, drove up the road, and were invited to walk down the actual excavated third tunnel under the DMZ. There were virtually no animals anywhere around. No birds, no bugs, no wildlife at all. The area is like a grassland with some trees so I expected there to be some birds or squirrels or even mosquitoes since it was going into spring. But there was literally

nothing except the people who worked there and our tour group. That started to make me uncomfortable because even at the actual border there were some pigeons and crows. It immediately had my hackles up. There was supposed to be a shuttle that goes all the way down to the armistice clock but it was being repaired so we had to walk. The further we walked down the tunnel I felt like I was walking through rising water. It started at my ankles then up to my knees, my waist, and by the time we got close to the armistice clock, I felt like it was all the way up to my neck. I started walking on the balls of my feet with my chin up on reflex because I had

the physical sensation that I was trying to wade through neck-deep water. I didn't notice until my friend asked me why I was walking funny. When I walked normal I felt like the water was over my head and I couldn't breathe. When I got to the armistice clock I felt dizzy. My vision was getting spotty and I wanted to turn back. I couldn't move my feet from where I was standing. I felt like something was pushing my chest and all of a sudden it felt like I wasn't myself. I felt like I was someone else. I looked down and I felt like I was wearing the wrong clothes. I remember thinking, I'm out of uniform.

I kept trying to push the thoughts away and leave but I couldn't move. I felt frozen. I was staring at the wall behind the clock. A wall that was supposed to be a barrier to keep people from using the tunnel to move between the north and south. Even though I couldn't actually see anything but the wall, my brain felt like I was looking at a woman and her son. I don't know how to describe it. I guess it's like you're not looking at something, but your brain is receiving some information telling you that you are.

I felt like I knew them. The longer I stood there, the more people I thought were there. I remember thinking, there are 12 of them. I kept stepping closer and closer until one of my friends asked me what I was doing. I didn't even realize I was moving from where I was originally standing, which was about 3 or 4 feet away from the clock. I couldn't snap out of it until my other friend tapped my shoulder and said we had to go back up and get back to the bus. When I turned around and looked at my friend, I didn't recognize her. When I turned around to leave, I remember hearing the woman say, wait, where are you going? When I kept walking, I heard her say, please don't leave us down here. I wanted to cry. I didn't start feeling like

myself until I got back on the bus to drop off my backpack and stop in the gift shop before we went back to campus. Apparently I looked terrified. The cashier asked me if I was okay and when I said I was, she kind of gave me a funny look. I eventually got over it until my friend went to Korea on a semester abroad last fall. They went to the DMZ again and I asked him if anything weird happened. He told me that he felt the feeling of rising water too and even the weird out of body feeling at the end of the tunnel. The tunnel doesn't end until you're past the border but the end we stopped at was the clock and the wall. If you go further, like right to the wall, you get in huge trouble and I wasn't going to risk that after already feeling so strange.

He told me that there was this film they watched after the tunnel that documented its history, like when the tunnel was completely flooded to keep people from using it to move in between countries. I miss the film because it took me forever to get up the ramp for some reason. I mean, I knew I was out of shape, but I felt like I got hit by a freight train for some reason. So I walked around the museum looking at some photos of the Pistachio Complex's construction and the different complexes that are around the DMZ like housing for the people stationed there and for workers at the Kaesong Industrial Complex

which has been decommissioned for a long time. It really unsettles me when I think about it. If I think about it too long I don't sleep right for a couple of days. I haven't found a good place to talk about it at length until I found the sub. Thanks for being here and for reading about my experience. When I was about 10ish years old, I lived in a really small town. My friends and I would often play on the trails near the forest after school or on the weekends, building forts and fishing, etc. One day we were walking on a trail and a lady in her mid-50s or 60s came out of the woods. She had dirt all over her hands and pants. She said her car had broken down and she needed help.

We said we would go tell our parents to come help but she insisted that we come into the woods. We said no and kept walking and she just stared at us. It was like she just shut off as a person when we told her. The smile went away, everything. Even when we were a couple of kilometers down the road we could see her staring at us. We get back to my friends and we're playing tag or something in his backyard and one of us starts making fun of the lady that we saw earlier and out of nowhere he is launched into his parents shed, breaks the window on him and his arm. We all stand in shock. His parents came out and started yelling at us, blaming us and saying that we threw him. All of us ended up being grounded.

To this day we all seem to have the same reoccurring dream or seeing the woman in the woods except every time I dream it she is closer and closer to us. Does anybody have some experiences that are similar or advice for the dreams? And just to clarify, it was a small walking trail, There was obviously no car off the road, and I grew up in a real small place in Canada. My friend didn't fly into the shed 20 feet, it was like 7 or so and nobody was near him. There has been much talk of skinwalkers surrounding where I lived and where I was born, but in my mind she will forever be known as the witch in the paranormal, alternate dimensions, and extraterrestrials. I just generally believe that the universe is extremely vast and humans can't possibly

mentally grasp everything out there and anything is possible. However, I've never been very sensitive to anything like that. I've experienced spooky things, sure, but nothing too extreme for me to explain it away. Picture frames that have been hung for years dropping to the floor seemingly out of nowhere in my childhood home, hearing unexplained footsteps, etc. All things I could dismiss. I've also seen several UFOs on the same night. Let me know if you'd like to hear about that.

But about a year ago, something happened that I've never been able to explain. And I can't get it out of my head. I'm a female living in central Arkansas and was staying in a rented house with my stepsister and her boyfriend. I was 21. It was one floor, three bedrooms, and two bathrooms. The living room and dining room are at the front of the house connecting to the kitchen and then there is a short hallway going down all three bedroom doors at the back of the house. It was about midnight and my stepsister and her boyfriend both had to work early in the morning and were asleep. I was still awake but was getting ready for bed. I also would like

to note that I had not been drinking, smoking, or watching anything scary. I had been chilling in my room watching television and was definitely not in a paranoid state of mind. I remember thinking my room was too warm for me to go to sleep. It was May and Arkansas was already hot for the summer. I decided to turn my TV off and go turn the thermostat down a little bit. The thermostat is located in a little hallway just a few feet from my bedroom door. When you step into the hallway from the bedrooms you can clearly see into the living room. We had a sliding glass door where you can see into the backyard and a motion sensor light on the back porch. We would not only lock the sliding door but

also had a pole wedged into it from the inside so it will not open unless you move the pole. When I stepped into the hallway and made just a couple of steps towards the thermostat, the motion light out back was on and I could clearly see two people in the living room. They looked like they were facing each other on the couch, or just crouching in front of the couch. They were backlit from the outside light, so I couldn't clearly see their faces, just their outline. At this point, my first thought was that my stepsister and her boyfriend were fooling around in the living room. It was completely dark apart from the outdoor light, no TV on or anything and for some reason I just thought that they were in there to mess around or something.

It doesn't make much sense in retrospect but that was my original thought. I immediately felt embarrassed and loudly said, Oh, sorry guys! Then the two figures who were originally facing each other darted their heads towards me. It was very quick, almost as if though I startled them. Thinking I had walked in on them and scared them, I quickly turned around and returned to my room, forgetting about the thermostat. I kind of was giggling to myself, still not feeling scared, just embarrassed and thought it was funny. I turned my light off and went to lay down in bed. As I laid there I

was expecting to hear them going back into the room or laughing or something, some sort of reaction, but nothing came. The house was so silent now without my TV on. I laid there for about 5 minutes then started to get worried. I decided to call my step sister to confirm what just happened. I assumed her phone was on silent because her room was right next to mine and I didn't hear her ring. When she didn't answer I called her boyfriend. His phone rang and he finally answered. It was clear that I had just woken him up because of how sleepy his voice sounded. I asked him if they were in the living room and he said no, that they were both asleep and he sounded annoyed that I was calling him at midnight knowing he had to be up at around 4.

Still not even thinking about ghosts I told him that I just saw two people in the living room and I think that people must have broken in. He woke my sister up, told her what was going on and they both grabbed something from the room to use as a weapon. All I had was a pocket knife but I grabbed it and we all decided to leave our rooms at the same time and step into the hallway. He walked ahead of us and the three of us made our way into the living room, turning on lights as we walked. There was nothing. The pole was still wedged into the sliding door from the inside. The deadbolt and lower lock on the front door were still locked, as well as all of the windows still being shut and locked. Nothing appeared out of place. They assumed that I was high or had been drinking or something or maybe just saw jackets hanging on the coat hooks.

This experience still shakes me up to think about. I stand by there being absolutely no way that I had mistaken a jacket or a shadow for people because when I spoke, the two figures had both quickly turned and faced me. The upper deadbolt on the front door could only be locked from the inside. There was no keyhole for it on the outside and no way for someone to leave and lock it behind them. There's absolutely no way someone could leave through the sliding glass door and replace the pole on the inside that kept it closed. I have never experienced something like this before or since. I am certain now that what I saw was otherworldly and not intruders. Nobody believes me though. This happened when I was around 11.

At the time, I had neighbors that owned this beautiful brick house that was over 100 years old. It was two stories tall and used to be owned by the Amish. They had had completely remodeled it. They installed a bathroom on both the first and second floors. There were two barns, a chicken coop, the whole package. The property definitely came chock full of history. My neighbors also had a daughter that was a couple of years older than me and we became close friends. I would go over to their house nearly every day. I would go all through the

old barns, play on both levels of the house and have the most fun. Nothing about the property scared me. In fact, I thought it felt more like home than my own house. That is until one day during the summer. We, my neighbors and I, were all outside enjoying the weather. I really had to go to the bathroom so I ran to the house due to being quite a distance away. I always preferred using the upstairs bathroom. The stairs were steep due to how old the house was and it was always fun for me to run up them. I walked through the kitchen and got to the base of the steps. I looked to the top of the stairs and there he was. The memory of him is so fresh in my mind.

He was a solid figure at the top of the stairs. He was an older man, white hair on the sides of his head and no hair on top. A black suit with no wrinkles, no fuzz, perfectly in order. Shiny white dress shoes with black accents. Not a single smudge. I looked up to his face. The feeling I got then when I saw his face is the same feeling I get now. Pure terror. His expression was angry. His eyes were black.

Not any shade of black I had ever yet to see again. The depth of his eyes felt like an eternity and I had never felt evil like that before. Seeing him, I knew that this was no random intruder. I could feel him. His presence was tangible, and I knew that he was not human. When I finally regained my senses, I ran out of the house screaming. I had never screamed like that before. I told my neighbors what had happened and they immediately went into the house because they believed that there was an intruder. Of course, nobody was found. I refused to go to the second story of that house alone again. I'd never seen him since. I know he was not a ghost or some vengeful spirit. He was the embodiment of evil. I assume what I saw was demonic. Whatever he is, I hope I never see him again for the rest of my life. I was a construction worker back then.

We had to replace an old connector water pipe from a great church in our city with a new one. Around the church there was a lot of green lawn which, as we were about to learn, was used as a graveyard for the richer citizens from 1100 up to 1800. The thing is that the ground there is very clayey which brings the dissolving of the human skeleton to a hold. This, mixed with the old grave digging habits from the people back then, led to our excavator digging out lots and lots of human bones as soon as it got deeper than one meter. It was pretty awkward as our construction team was just standing there staring while the excavator unearthed whole skeletons and then cut them in half because, in real life, the bones aren't still connected like they are in cartoons and such.

I, as the trainee back then, got the job to pick the bones from the earth pile the excavator created while my three co-workers just stood there refusing to just touch anything. I stood there, wearing gloves, taking up bones in a complete skull, brushing them more or less clean and collecting them on a piece of cardboard until the archaeologists showed up on the site. They took photos, told us some facts of when the place was a graveyard before taking off again. After the work was done, we threw everything back in before the holes got filled up. The paranormal part about this was that as soon as I started working at the bones, I felt like I was being watched, not only by my colleagues,

but also by the dead. Not necessarily the ones I was holding my hands though. At some point I was even able to see them, but only from the corner of my eyes. I was around paranormal things since forever and I saw two people standing right next to the hole watching as I did my thing but they would disappear as soon as I turned my head towards them. At first they seemed to be upset, gestures that I couldn't quite hear but as they noticed I was very careful and respectful with the remnants that they just stood there and watched me. After that they disappeared but I saw them again. They reappeared in the same style on the always free back seats of our car as we headed back to the department.

I was the only one seeing them but my co-workers were a little bit creeped out by the fact that I touched human bones without hesitating. The phenomenon stopped after I prayed for their souls later on. It was a fun job, but not the only weird experience. To be continued... from when I was 4 to 12 years old. When I was younger, we weren't able to afford our own apartment, so we had to rent a room. My stepdad had a friend that offered to help. It was me, my two siblings, and my mother and stepfather. The guy's name was Diego, and he lived with his family. At first, we lived in his garage before moving into a tiny room. I didn't know exactly why at the time,

but Diego got a divorce from his wife and she kicked him out. This was around the time that I was four and my stepdad offered to rent out to Diego as we were in the process of finally moving into our own apartment. We moved in and all was well. Diego brought a son whose name was Valentine and they rarely let us in their room. From all we knew, they didn't exist. Then, out of the blue, they had a puppy dog. For whatever reason, they never let us play with it. We didn't mind really since we could care less but then the dog went missing, or so we were told.

D and V, Diego and Valentine, didn't seem to care and again they got another puppy. We didn't think too much of it at the time so we still didn't pay attention. So one day my mom goes in to speak to them about something mundane and she was shocked to see an altar to Santa Muerte, which is the notorious saint of death that the Mexican cartels pray to. Turns out they were sacrificing their dog in her name. My mom was terrified and told my stepdad who then kicked them out immediately. They moved out a few apartments down and I remember V would always taunt me with knives whenever I saw him. I also have some other stories of Valentine but I might save some of those for another time. But anyway,

me and my sister moved into the room and never really cared because we didn't know what was going on at that time. One night, me and my sister were watching Family Guy when we heard scratching on the window. This was one of those slide windows that went to the backyard in which there was a fence that overlooked the back of the apartments onto a sidewalk. We looked and that's when we both saw what we thought was some sort of werewolf looking creature with yellow eyes just staring at us. At first I thought it wasn't real, but then it turned so fast and slammed the backyard door closed, causing the whole fence to shake. From that day to the day I moved out,

the fence was always bent in a way that seemed like it was pulled outward like a ramp. My apartment building was just one block with four apartments that were all vacant so we were all alone. I didn't believe what I saw so I asked my sister and she said that she saw the same thing. We told my mom and we switched rooms. Now my stepdad slept in the room alone. Another night me and my sister were getting ready to sleep when the window started banging like if multiple people were hitting it at once. Again we told her mom but there was nothing else she could do. There are other times that things have happened as well. We used to have a stuffed wire doll that would pray whenever and only when the hands were clamped together. So one night my

stepdad heard the noise and went to find the figure. He found it in the bathroom with its head in the toilet like something invisible was drowning it. He grabbed it since he wasn't scared easily and found it with no batteries. Now, my last big story, even though there were far more than these things happening, was that one day we walked to the store as a full family. The walk was around 3-5 minutes as we went to and from a local 7-11 that was basically in our backyard. When we got back, I kid you not, everything in the house was thrown around. The TV, TV stand, every frame picture, basically just everything was thrown all over the floor.

Basically it was as if though there was a small earthquake that only took place in our house. We still stayed because we couldn't afford a new place, so we did everything we could to stop this stuff from happening. Things did cool down but not all the way. It wasn't until 8 full years later when we moved that we realized that it wasn't just the house that was haunted. Things followed us to our new home but we rarely ever encountered anything. The only thing that's still attached are nightmares that we have once in a while. To this day I'm 17 years old and still have nightmares and dreams about my old home. As crazy as it sounds I actually miss the old home and plan to visit sometime as that's where I was raised and had the best moments of my life. Every once in a while I would dream of someone being in my room, in the dark, waiting for me to get up only

to get stabbed in the same place in my stomach, and I always woke up with a pain as if though I sprinted a mile after drinking a gallon of water without stretching. I'm not sure if anyone understands what I mean, but needless to say, it was very, very painful. This incident happened to me and a friend a month ago. It was not my first paranormal experience, but definitely one that made me think a lot about it again. We were outside at around 6pm having a walk in my hometown when it was already dark when I ran out of tobacco. We went to a nearby corner store, I got my stuff and afterwards we were on our way to my home. On the way there is I believe a former Jewish grave site. Now a park on the left side.

I wanted to smoke one before we go but since this park is often visited by strangers we passed it and sat down nearby on a small wall rolling up. When I wanted to start smoking I noticed a light flickering inside one of the apartments on the right side of the street. Graveside was on the left. We were also on the left, but on the top of the site. You could see through the window into what looked like the dinner room with a lightbulb, which seemed really weak, therefore causing the flickering light. When I kept watching though I noticed shadowy silhouettes moving in a fast and weird way but there was nothing in front of the bulb to produce such shadows. When I wanted to tell my friend he told me that he had just seen it and was curious about what it was too.

The first thing I did was get my phone and try to film the incident. I had a good camera on my phone so it should be easy, right? But whenever I moved the camera to the specific window with the creepy shadows, my phone screen just wouldn't go dark, like when you get called and put your face to the phone. When I moved the camera objective away from the window, the screen returned to normal. I tried this like 5 or 6 times, always failing to take a picture or video because the phone screen wouldn't let me. I could have filmed everything else fine, except for that window. When I put my phone away, the lightbulb suddenly stops flickering and shines like it had been freshly exchanged.

It didn't flicker a single time afterwards and we sat there for like 20 minutes before it seemed nearly dead. We were kind of creeped out and continued our walk then, but it still gave me the States and I remember this one thing that really scared me back then. I was probably 7 or 8 years old about that time so I guess I can't blame myself it was just my overactive mind and I was just scaring myself but here's the story. We had a stay at home maid at the time which I think is a pretty common thing there. My mom would hire random maids and they'd live at her house and get paid until they leave for any particular reason. We had a couple of them over the span of me growing up but this one maid is the reason why I'm writing this.

My family loved her because she was just overall a good person and helped my mom with daily tasks a lot. One of those tasks being to wake me up for school on school days. Usually I'd wake up to her calling my name a couple of times and then I'd get ready. But this one day I woke up to her voice, like she was having a conversation with someone but it was just her voice. I don't know what she was saying since I just woke up but I know she wasn't calling my name and the thing that scared me was when I opened my eyes I saw that she had her back turned towards me facing the wall. She kept talking to the wall until I called her and then she turned around and

acted as if I didn't just see her talking to a wall. And then she proceeded to get me ready for school. When I asked her who she was talking to she said it was nothing and that she proceeded to get me ready for school. When I asked her who she was talking to, she said it was nothing and that she was singing or something. I don't remember if I believed her at the time, but I do know that that same night, I couldn't fall asleep because I was so scared and it didn't help that my bed position makes me face that same wall. So I told my mom, but she was a Christian and just told

me to pray and sleep. That instance only happened once and I've never woken up to my maid talking to the wall again. Eventually that maid left because of family reasons not too long after so my mom had to hire a new one. It wasn't even that long before that new maid left. I overheard her pleading with my mom to let her go because she was so scared of living in her house. She said when she tries to sleep she would hear whispers next to her. Her door would swing open by itself sometimes when she was in the room and she would hear someone knock on her door at times where we'd all be fast asleep already. But the thing that scared me the most from her experience is when we left her to guard the house alone while my family went to

the market to get groceries. She said she kept hearing a lady's voice or something that sounded like my mom coming from our room upstairs while she watches TV downstairs. This reminded me of the last maid when she was talking to the wall and this got me shaking. I don't remember sleeping with the lights off ever again after that. Even until now I still leave the lights on. I think my mom got concerned for that maid at the time because she was hysterically crying while telling her all of those stories, so she let her go back to her family. Nothing strange happened again with the maids after her, but I developed a thing where I prayed every night before I slept since I was scared. What a terrible time.

I still get chills even just thinking about it. This happened two years ago, but it is one of my most vivid paranormal memories. It takes place in my childhood home where my dad lives. Some backstory on the house. I have witnessed strange shadows that shouldn't be where they are, or shadow people moving past doorways and watching from another room. Cabinets have been found left open after shutting them prior. Whispering, footsteps, door slamming, and other unexplainable noises have been heard by multiple people in the

house. My great-grandmother has passed away in the house long before I was ever born. My family like to say it's her ghost since some of the unexplained events seem to correlate to her past. Her bedroom was where my sister's room is now. The lights in that room and only that room frequently fluctuate, growing bright and dim in a short span of time. She was also known to have a passion for playing piano. We used to have a piano in the living room. I have heard keys of the piano clicking before while everyone was in bed and the piano lid would be down. It was never a full note, just light enough to hear the tap on the ivory. What really caught my attention with the piano though was the shadow figures I used to see around it all the time.

The layout of our living room was like this. Imagine you're sitting on a couch, television is on the opposite side of the room, straight across from you. The piano was to the right, against a wall and tucked below a shelf. On both sides of the piano were open doorways, one leading to the kitchen and the other leading to the hallway. I would always see a dark figure sweep past the piano going from the hallway door to the kitchen door. Two of my friends on separate occasions had come over and slept in the living room reported the exact thing to me. I never told them about it. And now on to the main story of this post. I was visiting with my dad and sister for the 4th of

July. My dad was out of town for the night that this happened on and let me sleep in his room since I didn't have one anymore. My sister was at work so I was home alone with the dog, Lily. I decided I would try to go to sleep a little early since no one would be home for a while and I didn't really enjoy staying in that house alone at night. I let Lily jump up on the foot of the bed and lay with me until my sister got home. I had gotten comfortable under covers and Netflix on my phone. After about 20 minutes or so I started to notice something that kept catching Lily's attention on the ceiling. She kept glancing up and tilting her head. I didn't think much of it at first until she kept going for about 5 more minutes.

Then she began to whine at whatever she was looking at. I tried to get her attention to make her look away since she was starting to freak me out but nothing would work. I grabbed my phone and began recording by this point, not sure what I was going to catch. I recorded on Snapchat, regrettably. The clip cut off after a minute and I was about to start recording again when Lily jumped back as if something jumped out at her. She then proceeded to sprint out of the room. I was nearly having a panic attack by this point and stopped everything I was doing. I couldn't take my eyes off the ceiling. Lily was running around the house whining.

About a minute of me frozen in fear later, Lily slowly creeped back into the doorway of the bedroom with her head down low. The hair on her back stood up tall and her tail was tucked between her legs. She kept her eyes locked on the same spot on the ceiling and began to grow. My heart was pounding, but I was still frozen in place, not sure what was happening. Next thing I know, Lily is barking aggressively at the ceiling, lowering her gaze to the wall behind the bed I'm on. I quickly grab my phone charger and darted out of the house with the dog. We sat on the front porch for a couple of hours until my sister arrived home. I still get chills going in to that room. Hi friends, thanks for listening. Click that notification bell to be alerted of all future narrations. If you got a story, be sure to submit them to my subreddit, r slash let's read official,

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