The Lets Read Podcast - 21: Episode 021 | Witches Curses & Kidnapping Stories | 31 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: January 29, 2019

Welcome to the twenty-first episode of The Lets Read Podcast! This podcast includes narrations of true creepy encounters submitted by normal folks just like yourself. Today you'll experience horrifying stories about Witches Curses, Sleepovers & Kidnappings.  HAVE A STORY TO SUBMIT?► www.Reddit.com/r/LetsReadOfficial FOLLOW ME ON- ► Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsread.official/ ► Twitter - https://twitter.com/LetsReadCreepy ►YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/c/letsreadofficial ♫ Background Music: Iron Cthulhu Apocalypse https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFvrqVSJE8E PATREON for EARLY ACCESS!►http://patreon.com/LetsRead

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BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. The house I currently live in with my roommate was built in the 70s. It's a pretty standard development block fair within the city. Brick, two stories, creepy unfinished basement. You know the kind. We've been there for a couple of years and since the first month, weird stuff has happened. When we first moved in, both my roommate and I were pretty creeped out by the basement. It's just an unfinished cement affair. The wooden door didn't even have a lock, so there was a latch hook you needed to use if you wanted it to stay shut. I worked nights and my roommate worked day shift so we only saw each other over the weekends and communicated mostly

through texts. One night while I was at work my roommate texted me, are you at home? Puzzled I replied, no why? He informed me that he left his room for something in the kitchen and every light in the house was on. It was 2 am and he was in bed. So weird but I sort of chalked it up to him forgetting to turn the lights out. Well skip ahead a couple of nights. I got home from work and made my way upstairs. Lights in the house were out as I used my phone as a flashlight. After changing I came downstairs

to fill my water bottle up. The kitchen and living room lights were on. Well, that was weird. I jokingly indicated gratitude to the ghosts for helping me see downstairs. Well, apparently it liked that, because every so often the light in the kitchen and living room will flip on by themselves after I get home from work. It doesn't stop there though. We've heard footsteps running up and down the stairs. Not like big old stomping stuff, just like running, light running, like a kid. It was around this time I decided the ghost, if that is what it was, was probably a kid who died in the house's past. The area wasn't always safe so it made sense in my mind. This is sort of reinforced by the fact that this particular spirit likes Cartoon Network. The TV in the living room, at least once every week or so, will turn on by itself to Cartoon Network. Doesn't matter what channel or input it was on when we turn it off.

Sometimes it will do so in the middle of the night and one of us will hear it from upstairs. Sometimes it occurs in the middle of the day when one of us is home in the kitchen or something. Oh and did I mention they like to hide stuff? Like I'm fairly certain they think it's a game. The remotes will vanish and end up in weird places like on the bookshelf behind books or behind the TV or under the curtains near the window. The remote for the TV in my room ended up in the garage one time. Strange. The spirit also seems to like to move my water bottle around.

I sleep with it next to my bed and I've found it on my dresser, behind my computer, in my closet and even in the hallway a couple of times. My door is locked at night. They also seem to like my roommate's shoes as they seem to vanish more frequently than anything else in his room. The spirit, or whatever it is, seem to be able to open doors on its own, like it's flipped the latch on the door to the basement a dozen times and just creaked the thing open. We've started just leaving the door to the basement a dozen times and just creak the thing open. We've started just leaving the door to the basement open since it happened so frequently. Finally, and this may seem cliche, but it seems to make rooms colder when it's present. It's only occurred a handful of

times but the most prominent was when my roommate was having a party. I think the spirit was scared itself, which, to me, lends more credence to it being a child. I was home and in my room upstairs just trying to relax after a long week of work. My roommate was downstairs, music was bumping, and there were a lot of people. I heard someone run up the stairs and knock on my door. I just assumed it was one of my roommate's friends coming to say hi as they usually did. I opened my door and there was no one there. I didn't hear anyone turn tail like they were pranking me so I jokingly said something along the lines of, oh are they too loud? Well you can come in for the night. And you know what? I think they did. The room got colder despite this being in the middle of the summer. Nothing moved or was messed with but I had to put on a sweatshirt and sweatpants.

I just flipped on Cartoon Network. The next morning the room was normal. It hasn't happened again with future parties, I think the spirit might have toughed it out in the basement. But for one night they seemed like they wanted some place that was relatively quiet where they could just watch cartoons. I could totally relate. I don't know if I'm reading too much into this or if my imagination is just overactive but I know weird stuff happens at our house and I can't really explain it.

I just try to be positive and open-minded about it. My third roommate isn't, as far as I can tell, malevolent. Just a bit mischievous, it seems. I started renting my home 11 years ago. Before my roommate at the time and myself rented it, a family that was originally from Serbia rented it. Both the mother and daughter read coffee greens and tea leaves and they also made potions. Of course, they didn't call them that. The homeowner had a falling out with them and they were given 30 days to leave. The homeowners are my parents and it was our rental property. I came with my parents and we started cleaning the mess that they had made.

That's when I found it. It was what looked like a little doll made with a sock. It had brown yarn hair and a little dress. It had a strange smell to it and it looked like it had been burned. I tossed it honestly because it gave me a bad feeling but also because we were trying to get things cleared out to rip out carpets and paint. Later that day I was taking the trash out to the communal dumpster when my brother snatched the doll out of the trash. We also joked the woman who lived there was a witch. We cut it open and

it was filled with this nasty smelling dirt. My brother insisted on burning it. He also told me a story that the woman had told him that witches often change into moths. Fast forward six months and I'm living in the house and weird things are starting to happen. My roommate Joe and I are chilling in the upstairs living room. It's me, his girlfriend, himself and a friend of mine. The fireplace was off, the gas of the fireplace was off and it was September in the desert so there was no reason we needed a fire. We were sitting there laughing and suddenly the fireplace lights up and we hear a popping noise. I immediately put it out. We figured it's a glitch and we go about our business.

However, radios start turning on in the middle of the night. TVs turn on. One day the disposal turns on when my roommate is washing dishes. The switch is clear across the counter and he's all alone. I tell my mom who is more skeptical than Dana Scully and she writes it off as me smoking too much and reading my stories, horror novels. However, she tells me if it bothers me that much to go ahead and tell a priest. I do tell our local priest and he comes in and blesses the house. After that, nothing at all. Joe moves out as him and his girlfriend are pregnant and they're about to get married.

I needed a new roommate and my brother moves in. About this time he starts to have really bad dreams about the former residence. The woman's daughter was his age and he starts to feel like something is drawing him to her. Meanwhile weird stuff starts happening again and one night I wake up to screaming. I run upstairs, my brother is standing in the kitchen and there are literally hundreds of huge moths in the house. We let a good friend sage our house after that. My brother's thoughts went away and his dreams stopped but weird stuff still happens from time to time and we still occasionally get swarms of moths. Six months ago I was at my partner's house and realized I left my bag in the car, which was parked on the street.

As I'm walking toward it, I realize the backlight has been smashed and there was damage to the rear panels too. I was so angry, wondering if someone had left a note or just done a runner. Then, as I'm walking toward it, the damage just flickered and disappeared like a mirage on a road on a hot day. I walked right up to it and ran my hand over the spot. Nothing. Perfectly fine taillight and panels, not a scratch. I put it down to a vivid imagination or the cold I had. I thought no more of it for half an hour until there's a knock on the door. It's the neighbor. I'm so sorry, I just hit your car backing out of my driveway. Now, totally freaked out, I head outside and the exact same spot I had seen about a half hour before was now damaged. Tail lights smashed, same panels dented and scratched.

To make sure I wasn't going crazy, I ask when it happened. He responds, just now as I was backing out of the driveway. I saw the damage half an hour before it happened. My parents' house, the one I currently live in, has always been a bit strange. They bought it from a neighbor circa 1996 or 97 not long after the house was built, if I remember correctly. I wasn't born until 1999 so I wasn't around when they moved in. We live in Loxahatchee, Florida if that helps with any of the spiritual history of the area. Ever since I could remember this house had

been very strange. Something's not right about it. When I was little sometimes I could feel cold hands clawing on my back while I was trying to sleep. I would hear whispers. Things would fall off my shelves and I'd run screaming and crying to the safety of my half-asleep parents in the dead of night who would tell me that it was only a nightmare and let me sleep in their room. Friends would spend the night and the next day tell me they saw and heard things throughout the night, like crying, laughter, footsteps, and some say they saw human figures in the mirror and were too scared to come back. And one night, me and my friend were chased around the house by

an RC car that had no remote control or even a battery present to power it. As I got older the sort of strange vibe that came with living in this house changed a little bit. I began seeing apparitions and at one point things got so bad I was put on medication for insomnia because the nightmares I was getting were so bad I was borderline hysterical for lack of sleep. The nightmares and apparitions stuck around for years, all the way from 8th grade to 11th grade, until suddenly one day, everything seemed to stop. My house was silent. Until now. It all started again a couple of weeks ago. I heard banging noises at one of my windows

while playing video games with a friend so I called my co-worker and told him to drive by my house on his way home from work and if he saw a person there to immediately call the cops and I'd worry about waking my parents. He saw nothing. The noises stopped after that. Then things got weirder. One night, the air felt kind of sinister in a way, like I got this sinister vibe one night while playing on my phone. My dog came in and whined at me and I told her to go lay on her bed, but instead, she stood guard outside my door that night and growled until the sun came up. The night after that, the smoke detectors would randomly go off, even though there was no fire, and when I told my parents, they told me the smoke detectors weren't even on that night. Things were quiet after that until I think Monday night. I had a creepy dream about my house,

I can't remember what the details were. I kind of shrugged it off as just a nightmare. Then Tuesday night, I had this really vivid dream about a creepy radio in the RV that sits in the driveway. There were odd frequencies and a woman's screaming voice coming from the radio. My mom told me to shut it off, but something about the radio was so evil that I started trembling and crying and begging my mom not to make me touch the radio before I woke up feeling this sinking feeling of dread in my stomach. I brushed it off and went back to sleep. Wednesday went fine except for a sinking feeling I got when I walked near the RV while leaving for work until nightfall. I felt like something was watching me last night. I tried shrugging it

off and took a shower and got ready for bed but the feeling was so strong that I almost woke my parents up and told them about everything. I decided against it and planned on distracting myself with positive vibes until I was tired enough to sleep. When I finally did I had another dream about my house but I don't remember it being scary or creepy at all. I think I was just walking around the house. I woke up feeling tired and drained today. Which brings us to me sitting here behind my computer screen at a loss for what to do. I want to tell my parents. My mom is really religious even though I'm not nearly as religious as she is but if I told her I felt a negative energy in her house, she would brush it off as me stressed or tired or paranoid.

I guess believing in God doesn't necessarily mean you believe in all of the paranormal or supernatural. I've tried at least salting my windowsill and bedroom doorway since that's where the activity seems to be the highest and it worked for a while but in the long run I ended up with a bug infestation that I had to explain to my angry parents and that didn't go over very well. I would burn sage or something but if my mom found out I was doing any cleansing rituals she'd disown me after making me read the entire bible. I'm at a loss for what to do. This thing has been coming after me my whole life and not a soul believes me unless they experience it for themselves and then they want nothing to do with me and my haunted house. I don't know who to go to.

I'm so alone. This is one of my sister's paranormal encounters. Keep in mind she is not the type to lie about these things for attention or anything like that and has always been extremely susceptible to paranormal occurrences. She told me this story a while back and after reading some of these I thought I would like to share along with a few other creepy happenings. She said one day she came home and settled in as usual. She walked past the bathroom and the door was open. She said her other sister was in the bathroom straightening her hair, a common and not as unusual occurrence. She said

hi to her and our sister said hey back. She continued about her day at home until she realized she had not seen her sister in the house since. She called for her but there was no answer. She couldn't find her. Finally she decided to call her on her cell phone and she asked where she went. She was at school all morning working on a paper and was never home while my sister was. Now the weirdest part is that we have all individually as a family seen each other when in reality we are somewhere else or in another part of the house. We have heard

each other's voices while we are not home. In addition, my sister once came home from work at night and claimed to have heard my parents and I outside. I was much younger and was wondering why we were taking forever to come inside. She looked out the window and we were not there because we had gone to see a movie and had been gone for a while. Things also tend to disappear into our creepy basement that we never go into and the light is also turned on and when I asked my mom, dad or sisters if they had gone down there they tell me they never were. The last and probably most unsettling one in my opinion is when it was about 3am and our neighbor called my sister to ask why my dad was just chilling by the back door since it was so late. We told him that my dad was asleep and had been

so for hours. We asked what the guy looked like and my neighbor said he looked like a tall dark figure in a trench coat and a fedora type hat. In the 13 years I've been living here I am not sure exactly what goes on in this house. All I know is that although I never feel particularly threatened I always feel like I'm being watched. So let's go back to the year 2002. This is the time by which I had learned to speak quite well and I could speak complete sentences by then. Now, when I was a kiddo, for some reason, I didn't get along very well with my dad. Imagine a three-year-old telling his dad that he hates him and that he's not his daddy.

Wild, right? I mean, I had just started speaking complete sentences then. One day, during one such occasion, while I was throwing a fit at my dad, something happened. Something that made my mom question everything that she thought about the paranormal. One day, dad came back home from work and it was clear that he was in a bad mood. He came up to give me a goodnight hug, but instead of wishing him a goodnight, I said, Stop trying to hug me. You're not even my daddy, papa. I called him papa. My dad laughed. Well, papa and daddy are the same things, he said. No, they aren't. You're my papa,

but you aren't my daddy. My daddy doesn't live there. He lives in New York, and he's a pilot. He flies big planes and makes lots of money. And I need to see Kristen immediately. She's probably waiting for me at home and getting all worried about me. I yelled. Mom said dad's face went white. Who's Kristen, Nathan? Where does she live?

He asked. Kristen is love, wife. And she lives here. I said, pointing at my heart. And good night now. I switched off the lights and went to sleep, pulling the blanket over my head, not in the mood to answer any more of my dad's questions, I guess. There was no way a three-year-old little fella knew all of that. It left them confused beyond crazy levels of confusion. Well, you're probably wondering what all of this means, right? Well, fast forward to

2017. Just so you know, I get lucid dreams way too much. One night I was sleeping. Well, not exactly sleeping, lucid dreaming. It was a weird dream. I was in a huge white hall, alone, all by myself, and it was so peaceful in there, so utterly peaceful. Jacob, a female voice, so beautiful and soothing it's beyond words, called me from behind. I turned around and there in front of me was standing a girl in a yellow dress. A girl so beautiful she was nothing less than an angel. And she had the most beautiful smile on her face. She had an aura about her that made me feel so happy and loved.

Kristen. The words escaped my mouth. You remember me, Jacob? She teared up. I couldn't speak at that point. I just stared at her. I'm waiting for you, Jacob. I'm so lonely. Please come home. She reached out her hands as she said that. I woke up to the sound of my alarm. Five in the morning. I tried to reach for the alarm to shut it down. My whole body hurt so much I couldn't move. I was burning. Burning hot. I called out for my sis

whose room was just next to mine. The last thing I remember was my sister walking in through the door and the next thing I remember was waking up in a bathtub filled with cold water. I had passed out from a fever of 105 degrees and dad put me in the cold water bath to bring down my body temp ASAP to prevent the fever from getting in my head. Kristen probably came to take me back with her. Just one of the hundreds of paranormal experiences I've had. You can't run from them when it runs in your family. My dad is sensitive too and he probably got it from his mom, my grandma. To all the people out there who have or think they have extrasensory abilities, have you ever experienced

a spirit rot phenomena? What I mean by it is when people die, sometimes they aren't able to cross over to whatever there is in the afterlife, let's say spiritual realm. Their souls get stuck in a world. It's like a fish out of water situation. The longer a fish stays out of water, the more it dies, then rots. In a somewhat similar manner, souls that get stuck here and aren't able to cross over keep degenerating. Their aura, their aura continues to deteriorate. Why am I saying all of this? Now, let's get to the story. Like all my other stories in this sub, it's a first-hand experience. You all might be wondering how, like in a movie I keep getting all of these terrible paranormal situations. Well, the thing is, I've seen stuff since like forever, but the

time period between 2015 to 2017 was the most. That was when I got hexed, and that's when all Hades broke loose. And I know y'all surely want to know that story and I won't be disappointing you. All the events in this story took place between the year 2012 to 2015. That was when we moved into a new house. Most of my stories are from this house. Let me give you a quick intro to this house. It was a huge house, five generations old, and had a history of losing tenants quite quickly. None of them stayed for longer than a year. Sounds suspicious, right? Well, let me tell you a thing that'll immediately clear all suspicions regarding this house. There was no rent at all, just water and electricity bills, Nothing else. This and

caring for the two not so elderly couple that lived there. Old fellas were in late 60s and all you had to do for them was cook for them and remind them to take their medicine. No rent. Crazy right? Parents immediately moved in. I'll save the other stories of this house for later but right now let's stick to the story of the lady in black. I first saw the lady in black on my second night in that house. I woke up to get a water bottle from the fridge and on my way to the kitchen I saw a silhouette standing in the main shutter door and peeping in. Another quick info about the house. We have a huge shutter door as the main door then another door that led to the central hall. All the rooms in the stairs of the first floor branched out from the central hall.

Between central hall's door and the main shutter door, there was a courtyard area. I stopped when I saw the silhouette, walked to the door, opened it, then switched on both the lights outside the house and the courtyard light, such that the light would shine upon and light the silhouette from both front and back. But the thing was, despite light being shown upon that silhouette from both sides, it was still a silhouette, just a black shadow. Suddenly, a... how to describe it? A wave of energy ran through my entire body. So much energy that I blacked out and my breathing stopped for a moment and I fell on my knees. It lasted for about four seconds. What do you guys call such attacks? In my case, usually a paranormal activity or event follows after these attacks. After I got my senses back, I looked up and the silhouette was gone. I tried to brush it off

as just an extra intrusive neighbor and went back in my house, but I knew what I had just seen, and it was a neighbor for sure, just not alive. I decided to name her Lady in Black because of how dark the silhouette was, the blackest of blacks I've ever seen. I kept seeing the lady quite frequently after that. Since dad lived in another state, he is a believer in the paranormal and sensitive to stuff as well and mom didn't believe in all of that crap. I never told anyone about the lady in black. But one thing was quite common with each encounter I had with her. Disease. I'd get sick every single time. High fever, nausea, diarrhea. Just imagine how bad her aura was. So much negative energy, but there was something weird about her. Like, she was dead, and had a negative aura. But she never really

attacked me or anything. During all the sightings, all she did was just stare at me, and that too from a distance. It was weird. Up until that point, I had seen dark spirits. Lady in Black, despite being one, didn't actually act like one. The reason? Man, I'm in tears right now just by typing this and reliving it all over again. Let's jump to the end of the story now.

May of 2015, a summer afternoon. I was alone at the house and I'm telling you, I love sleeping when I'm alone and have nothing to do. So I just locked other doors and windows and made myself comfy in the bed and went to sleep. I have mentioned it in my last post as well that I'm a frequent lucid dreamer and today as well it was a lucid dream. I dreamt of falling, falling in a black endless hole that just didn't seem to end. My heart was pumping hard then suddenly, boom, I fell down and woke up in a white room. Don't get confused, I was still asleep in real life. I got up off the floor and looked up and, man, I'm sure I let out a shriek in real life as well. Lady in black, right in front of me in my dream, I immediately backed off.

Who are you and why are you here? Why do I see you all the time and what do you want from me? I yelled at her. Help. She came forward and reached out to me with her extra long hands and touched my hands. What I saw next was painful to watch. You know why I hate this power that I have? I have to sometimes see really disturbing things.

It's not a choice. It just happens. And all I can do is just watch. And I saw a woman being torn apart. Yes, it was very, very detailed and graphic. And then buried. Where did it all happen? The empty plot of land right next to her house.

I saw the exact spot where she was buried. Unfortunately, I couldn't recognize the two men that did all of that to her, which was a huge regret. I wish the two of them die or died the most painful deaths and rot for all they did to that woman. The dream ended and I woke up. I was soaked in sweat despite the AC switched on and working just fine. I now knew the story of the lady in black. She was most probably a nomad. We used to have a special market in our town once every year where people from nearby towns and nomads would come to sell various things, which was the reason that there were no police,RIs or anything on the internet about any murder

crime in the neighborhood. All these years she came to me she did it for seeking help. She saw me as someone who could help her. Someone who could help her cross over. She probably never got too close because she knew her rotting negative aura would harm me. I was, and still am, very sensitive to energies. Dad came home next week. I didn't tell him everything, I just looked him in the eye and said, We need to perform a cleansing. He didn't ask any questions. That's how it is between Dad and I.

No questions asked. A cleansing service was performed by a priest the next day on that plot of land, which belonged to a distant relative of our old landlord couple. We did it after taking permission from the owner, who surprisingly, well, not too surprisingly, just allowed without asking a single question as to why we wanted to do that. Lady in Black was never seen again. She crossed over. I could feel she was in a better place. The environment around the house suddenly felt a lot more lighter and positive. I moved out of my parents' house in early 2016.

My parents moved out of that house by mid-2016. The empty plot of land was sold. The new owner decided to build a house on that property. Guess what was found while digging up the ground to build a house on that property. Guess what was found while digging up the ground for laying the foundation? A human skeleton. To date, what happened to me yesterday on November 18th, 2018 was the strangest and most peculiar thing I have witnessed and really I don't know what to make of it. I live in a very small town of a thousand in southwest Michigan.

I'm not from here but moved out here a couple of years ago from a bigger town about an hour away. I was out with some friends catching up with some dinner at Applebee's and at about 10 we all departed in one or separate ways. It's about an hour and a half drive back to my place and I'm used to driving it and driving it dark and all that because of my job. Anyways to get to what I saw I rolled into my town at about 11 30 and the town is dead quiet at this point like it usually is. Now there's one major crossroad in town that has, if you're coming into town, a small restaurant and a gas station on the left

and parallel is a library and a second gas station. I was just coming up to this crossroad and, I'm not going to lie, I was looking at my phone, changing a song, when, out of the corner of my eye, I see something move from out of the street by the restaurant. I slam on my brakes, and to what I believe I saw was a man on stilts. Except these were some exceptional stilts, because if I had to guess, he was about 15 feet tall. He took one stride and looked at me. This is where it gets even stranger to me.

He was wearing a black and white checkered tailored suit jacket with grey dress pants, aviator sunglasses, and a top hat. Now I've seen people in stilts before and their arms are always normal size, but this guy's arms were just about down to his knees like a proportional being. He then took two more strides and was out of sight behind the library. I then pulled up and grabbed my phone to get a picture of this guy but he was gone. I turned down the street to try to find him but looking down the alleyways and local streets I couldn't find him. I'm absolutely baffled by this incident. I wouldn't believe that it was just some dude pulling off a rather impressive cosplay but something seems so off about it. The entire encounter was maybe four to five seconds long but I remember it so vividly.

I haven't told anyone about this and really posting it here is my best chance to possibly get an understanding or maybe someone else who has seen something similar. So everything started at my birth. I was a healthy boy, really nice and popular with my parents friends. My mom who is keen on paranormal too once knew a psychic and the first time she saw me she was totally dumbstruck. My mom asked why she would react like that but the only answer my mom got was he's not normal. Then she left my mom speechless and never gave a sign of life again. Around two years old I started to talk

about friends even though I barely knew children my age at the time. I was telling my parents that they used to talk to me at the end of my bed at nap or at night. Moreover, my parents would very often hear me speak alone in the room, sometimes in another language. My whole childhood was focused on paranormal. I was only talking about ghosts and video games with my friends and I would usually love making them incredibly scared. Sadly, people were not really kind to me in general so I never really had many friends until middle school. I don't remember seeing ghosts but waking up in the middle of the night and hearing people talk to me was a daily routine. It was first scary but I got used to it. I would often hear footsteps in the hallway, even though nobody was awake.

I talked about these things with my parents, and they believed me. They told me that there are things in this world that we can't explain and can't see, but they're still here, and some people would see them and help. They told me they thought I was one of those people. I was astonished, but I loved it. Once my sister was born, I was five years old at this point, things became less extreme. I would not usually see or have signs of my friends again. But because we have a tiny house, my sister and I were sleeping in the same room, and so my sister would be less scared.

Everything was normal, but one night I jumped up out of my bed, and because of the glow of the moon, I looked at the mirror between our two beds and noticed this dark-shaped figure at the end of my sister's bed's reflection. It was crooked, incredibly scary, but wasn't one of my friends. I frantically put the light on and it disappeared, but knew it was still a matter of time before it came back. Later, during my teen years, I would sometimes go to sleep last. You know, my house is somehow scary and this night I was not feeling comfortable. Something was really

strange and eerie. In a dead silence, something threw a sellotape violently for no reason. I went to bed. That also was scary, but things were not happening only at home. I went to my ex's house, a very spooky house too, and we were talking about life and friends. Randomly, I looked at the see-through curtain and saw a crooked, scary, and evil-looking woman looking back at me. I don't really know how to explain it but it was all really fast. I leapt and unconsciously started to cry. This was so real.

It was like material and immaterial at the same time. I barely slept that night. I never had the evidence that my house or my land was haunted but I'm the only one that thought strongly that we were not alone here. I can't explain everything but sometimes things happen around me in my house. My neighbors who are really unlucky people recently forged bonds with a psychic. They invited her at their home but the first impression she had was, you're not alone here. My neighbor, speechless, asked what this meant. Their friend answered, you are not alone in here. I can see two children and a grandmother.

The grandmother is not very kindly as she died during World War II. The children are here since maybe the middle ages. This is unbelievable how this matched with what I witnessed all my life my friends, two brothers, the grandma aka the scary and evil woman I felt and saw many times I'd like to preface this by saying that this is not my encounter, but my great-aunt's encounter. She told this story to me a few years back after many years of me pestering her about it. I had grown up knowing vague details of this story, but never the full thing. I did record this entire conversation that we had, amongst my great-aunt, a few other members of my family, myself. To this day I still have the recording on my phone and will find a way to post it if there is enough interest. I'll be transcribing the exact conversation we had with slight changes

to the names for privacy. When David and I were younger and before we got married and even afterwards we had a Ouija board at our house, and we think that this might have been the cause of everything that came after. Anyways, we used to play the Ouija board all the time, and one night when we got married, we moved into this mobile home down the road, further down from where we are now in Canada. Michael was born, but he was only about a year or so old and Billy Joe was a baby. So Tricia, this is my aunt's sister, had a boyfriend named Brian Langell. One day I came home from work and the very first day I had this brand new job at MSI and the babysitter had told me that Brian had been there that day and that he really wanted to see me and that it was important.

I tried to call but there was no answer. I tried and tried but there was no answer. So I thought to myself, if it's really important, you know, he'll come back. Well, he shot himself. He went home that day and shot himself. Of course, my question was, what did he want me for? Why did he want to see me? About a year later we got the Ouija board out. We were having a party you know young and stupid. We were only about 18 or 19 years old at the time so I asked the Ouija board with two other people doing it what did Brian Langell want to see me about that day? He came back and said his name was Link, which was Brian Langle's nickname, L-Y-N-K. It was Jesse and Gary that were working it and I said, what did he want to see me about? And he said he wanted to tell me that he had caught David and Tricia kissing each other at the shack.

David and I were already married so there was denial and whatever but it turns out it was true. That's exactly what had happened. He had caught them kissing each other and that's why he broke up with Trisha and that's all that he wanted to see me about. So that's just a prelude to the story because from that point on our lives changed. Within a couple of weeks Michael started seeing an imaginary friend. When Michael got old enough to talk he would say stuff like, can I go out and play? Bardo was out there waiting for me. He started throwing his toys out the front window of the trailer and we'd get up and they'd all be gone. Everything in the room would be gone out the

window. We'd ask, why did you do that? He'd say, well, Bardo made him do it. So, you know, what do we do about it? But we couldn't do anything because we thought Bardo was imaginary. So then Billy Joe gets old enough to talk and he's really scared of everything. He's scared of his shadow. He clung to me and for most of his life he slept on my chest until he was about 10. This created laughter amongst my family for obvious reasons. One night he kept saying that he was seeing this person in his closet and it was a mobile home right? So the closet is tiny and so was the bedroom. David and I were laying in bed. It was a summer night and Billy Joe said, Mom, he's bothering me. I said, just go to

sleep, honey. It's okay. Go to sleep. Then we heard talking through the walls, you know, chattering with someone, but not loud enough to hear the words, like a child's voice heard softly through really thin walls. And then we heard a response. A deep voice, low and guttural, answered him back. Terrified and in disbelief, I said, Billy Joe, run to mommy, baby. So he did. He came running. Then I had to go get Michael because he was in the next room down. I was terrified and so was David. David was so terrified he wouldn't even get out of the bed to go get Michael. David kept Billy Joe with him and I had to go get Michael. We actually didn't move that next day. It was then that we started saying, okay, what did you see? Who is it? And blah, blah,

blah, and come to find out. They, both boys saw him, started explaining things. He was a little man. His name was Bardo. He wore a banner across his chest and it said Bardo on it, though at the time we didn't know it said anything, just that they described this ribbon going across his chest with three letters on it. He was always in the backyard trying to get them both to come out. So then we moved and about three years later they started putting videos on TV. It was a Thursday night show. Michael Jackson was the first video that we had ever saw, his 1983 thriller. In one of his videos we were sitting there watching and one of the subliminal messages that he was putting in his video

he was trying to make fun of the exorcist. It was this little man. He was about three feet tall, a little gremlin, and there was a banner across his chest that said, Bardo on it. We thought, holy sweet Jesus, that's him. David came home, and we just kept watching because we didn't have a VCR. There was no such thing as a VCR so there was no way to see it

unless we just kept waiting for them to put the video on again. David saw it and we walked about and chalked it up to coincidence so as not to scare the boys. Now when David was little he used to see someone he called the spring man. He was absolutely terrified of him and had experiences with the springman as a child that were similar to the experiences the boy did with Bardo only a couple of years before. So we were watching a Stephen King movie one night and it was about a man that was scared to death to get on a plane. Well this plane started doing the whole shaky shaky thing with turbulence. It was storming out and the guy looks out the window and there

was Bardo on the wing of the plane only without the banner this time. At this point my aunts gets into a discussion about this show and they realize it was not a Stephen King movie but in fact The Twilight Zone. It is the scene with the gremlin on the wing of the plane. Look it up and google to see pictures. It's a pretty good skit. It was at this point that David pipes up and says, that's the spring man. So not only had David seen him as a child, but so had the boys, his kids. That was all I could get out of her on the subject, which was more than enough for me. I looked up the picture of the gremlin from the scene in the Twilight Zone and it brought my aunt to tears. They are still very much afraid of these experiences.

There were many more but were not mentioned by her in the story. Even Billy Joe, who's 40 years old today, refuses to acknowledge or talk about any of these experiences. Last July I had gone out shopping with my mom and my youngest son while my oldest son was at day camp. After we were done shopping we stopped at the rec center to pick up my son from his camp because it was on the way to my house. I got out of the car and walked about halfway to the front door and was drawn to look back at the car and when I did I saw my grandmother seated in the passenger seat next to my mother, her daughter, clad in what looked like a paper gown and looked disapprovingly at my mother. I could see her as clearly as if though she was there in the flesh despite the fact that she had passed away two years prior. She didn't look see-through at

all and I got a view because I left my window rolled down. I looked away and looked back and she was still there but now looking straight at me. I got really freaked out and sprinted inside and picked up my son. We came out a couple of minutes later and she had vanished. I got really freaked out and sprinted inside and picked up my son. We came out a couple of minutes later and she had vanished. I got in the car and told my mom about what I had seen and she didn't really say much. I think she thought I was making it up. I got home and moved on with my day. A couple of hours later I was watching a movie and the phone rang. It was someone from the hospital calling. My mom had apparently left my house after dropping me off, headed out to the city and on the highway to meet her boyfriend at a small restaurant on the lake for dinner

and blew through a red light and collided with another vehicle at the intersection who happened to be going 110 kilometers in a 60. My mom was okay thankfully after staying with me for a couple of months while she got back up on her feet because she did break her right leg. Because of all the chaos it wasn't even till a day or two later when I took her to an appointment at the fracture clinic that she brought up seeing my grandmother immediately before her accident and that we both got really creeped out. Do you all agree that she was there to warn us?

If I ever see her like that again, I will be really walking on eggshells for a few days. I live in a major city in Texas. My apartment complex is gated and in a good neighborhood, but the security isn't extremely tight. Sometimes the gates are left open and anyone could piggyback off of someone else entering with the access code. Maybe twice in the past three years, the management has put out notices of vehicle break-ins and other items being stolen from porches. We also have frequent door-to-door solicitors, even though there are signs forbidding it. So this particular Friday evening, I go to bed at about 2.30am. For some odd reason, I was having trouble getting to sleep, so I put on a podcast to listen to and

eventually start to doze off. I become aware of a noise that sounds like a clicking sound, but it sounds like one of my upstairs neighbors making some noise. I kind of zone this out as I'm used to my neighbors staying up late on weekends. After about 30 seconds, I realize the noise is extremely repetitive and getting louder. I then start focusing on it more intently trying to isolate what it could be and where it was coming from. Suddenly it hits me. It's coming from the entrance to my apartment. I leap out of bed and head to the foyer.

I identify the noise right away. The lock mechanism is moving back and forth rapidly like someone is trying to unlock the front door. I can hear that an object is inserted into the lock and the person is jimmying it back and forth with a lot of force. I instinctively turn around, head to my bedside safe, unlock it with the combination, and pull out my.357 SIG pistol, load a 14 round magazine, and chamber a hollow point round. I head back to the door and as I exit the bedroom, I see the lock twist and unlatch. I immediately point my weapon straight ahead knowing that if someone comes through, I will have to make a split second reaction. I decide that if someone comes through my door,

I will give them a momentary chance to retreat, but if they do anything other than that, or enter aggressively, I'm going to shoot and ask questions later. They don't enter, however, because I had also locked the deadbolt inside only. When I first moved in a year prior, I remember thinking that the deadbolt was a great security feature, and I got in the habit of always keeping it locked when I'm home. In hindsight this decision saved me from a life or death confrontation. Upon realizing that I approached the door and looked through the keyhole. On the other side are three Asians, two men and one woman. All three are wearing hoodies so it's difficult to make out their faces. The men have

objects in their hands but I can't make out exactly what. The two men are talking back and forth, probably trying to figure out why they can't open the door, even though they have successfully opened the outside lock at this point. The woman is also talking loudly behind the two men, such that anyone in the hallway would be able to hear her voice. She's talking in another language. The only words I can make out are, blah blah blah, apartment 250, blah blah blah, and she keeps repeating that over and over like a broken record. Upon hearing that, I start to wonder for a moment if maybe they're just drunk and have the wrong apartment number. But that's impossible. To open my lock, they would have to have a copy of my exact key or some kind of lock-picking device.

I've never copied my key or even given it to anyone. And here's the other thing. Not only is 250 not my apartment number, but, as I figured out later, that apartment number doesn't exist anywhere in the complex. Standing back from the door, I take a long broom handle and jab it hard in the face of the door, letting them know that I'm on the other side. They immediately stop fiddling with the lock and take off running. I debate whether to call 911 and decide against it until they return.

I know they'll be long gone by the time anyone gets there. It would be too risky to follow them to try and get a better description or license plate and I don't have enough identifying info as it is to make an arrest. I filed a police report the next day and let the apartment management know. They said it was unusual but they would alert the resource officer and ask for a police presence for a couple of nights. Nothing ever came of the report, but it's not a surprise to me. It's been seven months since this happened and no further incidents. Nobody else in the apartment has reported anything similar happening. I don't think they'll be back, but one precaution I took was to buy a smart lock for the deadbolt,

so I can leave that deadbolt always locked from the inside even when I'm not home. It's crazy to think that the deadbolt was the only thing between myself and an armed confrontation with intruders. They say you don't really know what you'll do in those situations until it really happens but I can honestly say I am proud of how I stayed calm and was mentally prepared to defend myself. If there's one good thing that came out of this, I feel confident that I responded the right way and was ready for the unthinkable. My name is Martin. I have this one friend that I would go to to sleep over. So about five months ago I went there and something strange happened. I came over, said hi to her parents and went to her room.

We watched films and videos on YouTube and then we got bored. My friend suggested to call another friend. I approved. She came about ten minutes later. We were just checking Instagram, telling stories. I suggested to go on Omegle, it's the website that you make fun of with friends, meet some strange people, that kind of thing. So we started video chatting, we met some nice teens who had a party, we were talking with them and so on. We started to get bored so we changed the subject. A teddy bear appeared.

We made fun of it. Then a deep voice started talking. He said, Hey friends, what's your names? I looked at my friend and he was creeped out. We didn't answer. Then he said, Why are you so quiet?

My friend responded, What's your name? You creepy old man. We started laughing. The voice behind the teddy bear started giggling. We stopped laughing and started to listen. He was mumbling something. I started to get creeped out. I think my friends did too. Suddenly he starts yelling, just wait, I'll come for you. My friend said, okay, well where do we live, creepy man. I looked at my friend and said, are you insane, don't provoke him you idiot. Then the man said the name of our town and I'll come tonight. We freaked out and turned off the laptop. We were so scared that we didn't go to sleep. Thankfully, nothing did happen, but to this day I still remember that creepy deep voice and that teddy bear.

We talked about it all the time when we were together. I was 11 years old when my family moved to a new town. It didn't take long before I made a new friend down at the end of the block. Her house was located in the corner of a T-intersection that dead-ended into a field with lots of trees and a tiny shallow stream. My friend and I sometimes played there but generally did not go more than 20 feet into the wooded property. There wasn't much wooded land as probably about 50 feet or so on the other side was a road that was not connected to ours and we knew that was farther than we were allowed to go. The stream was about 5 inches deep and we did have fun playing within eyesight of my friend's house. We never saw anybody else there

and never had any problems. Another new addition to the block beside myself was a man in his 20s who was just recently married. He moved in across from my friend. He was a nice man and a firefighter. His wife was kind to us and let us play with their cat a couple of times a week. One day while playing in the stream we ventured farther than usual. I don't remember why but we weren't really paying attention to our surroundings. We didn't make it very far because the stream petered out, becoming muddy and full of dead leaves. We were about to turn back when in a small clearing just before us we saw something unusual, something dark and flying or hovering in mid-air. We made our way back forward cautiously to get a better look. As I strained my eyes in the gloom the trees around

me blurred in my vision becoming a hazy background of orange, yellow and red punctuated by the deep black of wet tree bark peeking out here and there. The October air was crisp and clean but the weak sun failed to penetrate the meager but complete canopy of dying leaves overhead. Before long the black thing before me began to take shape and I soon saw it was not hovering over the clearing like I thought. It was hanging by a wire. My eyes traveled up the wire to where it was wrapped around a branch that jutted out over the clearing. Still not understanding what I was seeing I let my eyes travel back down the wire to the black object. The wire was wrapped around what I soon realized was the leg of an animal.

The wire was being used to suspend the animal quite low in a clear view of anyone under six feet tall. It was so low that any adult could easily reach it without the need of a ladder. Without thinking, we went closer to discover that it was not originally the color black. It was black because it was charred. It looked sooty and greasy with patches of orange fur. The animal, now looking very much like a cat, had been burned. Yes, now I'm wondering if it was burned alive but that didn't occur to me back then thank god. My friend and I looked at each other with shock. She was scared to death her face pale and her eyes wide. I'm sure I look pretty much the same

to her and without a word we turned around and hightailed it straight out of the trees past the stream and out onto the street. We confirmed with one another that we both just saw a burned cat hanging from a tree. We agreed we needed to tell an adult right away. It made sense to go to the new neighbor since he was a fireman, second only in authority to a policeman and his wife was always home during the day. Their house was also close to the end of the street where we were playing, and, well, they had a cat.

It made sense in my childlike mind. We knocked on his door and the fireman answered and asked us what was going on. We told him what we had just seen and that he needed to come look. He took us seriously and, looking concerned, pulled on his jacket and stepped out the door. We took him through the small wooded area along the streams of the clearing. There he saw what we saw, a charred cat hanging from a wire from a tree branch over the clearing. I could say he was shocked by the sight of the charred body. He began looking closer at our surroundings which was something my friend and I hadn't done. Then he suddenly exclaimed, Girls, be careful.

We looked around expecting to see more burned cats or a person but instead we found out that he was pointing to areas on the ground and at the trees. He instructed us not to move and kneeled down to show us more wire. There was a lot of it and I followed his fingers. He traced its path from one tree to another, making a perimeter around the clearing. It was wrapped around the tree trunks about one foot from the ground, meant to make whoever wanted to get close to trip and fall. He then stood up, pointing to pieces of metal in the trunks of the trees.

They were razor blades, he said, set into the bark of each tree, sharp edge facing out. Our fireman friends said they were put there so someone would cut themselves if they tripped on the wire and tried to catch themselves on a tree trunk. It was a trap. The cat was bait, he explained. It was bait for a human though, meant to catch a person's attention and lure him into the clearing in order to cause them harm. I didn't understand why and when I asked, he said he didn't know. I asked if the cat was his and he said he didn't know. There's more to this story than we were ever told. Bad enough to make the fireman move away only months after moving in.

I had never seen anything like this before and it took me a long time to understand the level of hatred and malevolence that was behind the act of burning my neighbor's cat, not to mention the illness of someone who would booby trap an area against innocent children. It was scary and surreal and had left quite an impression on my young mind. Whatever was going on, whether it was meant for us kids, our neighbor, or someone else. I hope to never see such a thing again. I am a female living in the UK. This happened to me when I was around 14 years old. On this particular day, I had spent the day with a few of my friends in a

local park. The park was around a 30 minute walk to and from my home. After a day of hanging around with my friends we decided to head back home. Most of my friends lived closer to the park than I did but it was the late afternoon and still in broad daylight so I had no issue with walking home alone. Once my friends and I said goodbye and headed off, I began my ever so familiar route back towards home. This route I had taken many times before and had never had any odd or scary experiences until then. I looked across the main road to see a guy with his hood up on the opposite side. It wasn't raining or windy so I thought this to be odd but shrugged it off.

He was walking at a leisurely pace and seemed to be determined. Seeing the sky and with it still being quite light I crossed the road in a diagonal line as to increase the distance between us as much as possible. I was nearing the entrance of a shortcut that would get me to my estate in under ten minutes. Suddenly I had begun to get this weird vibe that something was wrong. I had no idea what had caused it, but I had this overwhelming urge to turn around. Well, what greeted me still creeps me out to this day. The hooded guy, who before was at least 30 meters away from me at first, was suddenly less than an arm's reach away.

He was startled that I had turned around so quickly and met my gaze with the most unsettling look I had ever seen. I just froze on the spot, not really knowing what to do. I began to turn away again to head to the main road instead. Before I could even stop on the pavement, he grabbed my arm with a smirk on his face and began to pull me into the shortcut. I don't know if it was adrenaline, shock, or what, but with all my might, I began to fight back. I eventually broke free and sprinted

towards a pub that was one minute away from the shortcut. Once I ran into the pub, the people inside could see how shaken up and upset I was, and the police were called. When they arrived, they took a statement from me and went door todoor with the local houses, but to no avail. I had a very lucky escape that day, and I dread to think of what could have happened to me if I didn't manage to break free. At the time this event occurred, I was working as a host server at a local restaurant in my hometown. Now, my co-workers at this restaurant tended to be more flirty and touchy than at others I've worked.

It was never weird or meaningful, at least for me. It was just how it was. I was working there for about six months or so when the restaurant hired a new food runner named Alex. Alex seemed like a nice guy, but in all honesty, I don't remember much about him from when he was first hired because we only worked one shift a week together, which also happened to be the restaurant's busiest day of the week. He also tended to work the night shifts, where I was always scheduled for morning shifts. After a while of working our one shift together I noticed that he was being more flirty with me than everyone else he had interacted with. We began harmlessly flirting back and forth for a few weeks and eventually he asked me out. I agreed and told him I was free later that same day so

we could do something. Stupidly I told him to pick me up from my house and gave him my address. A few hours later he came by my house and picked me up and we went to a park to hang out and talk for a while. Everything was going great. We were kissing a bunch and I was having fun. We then got back into his car and started driving around. As we were driving he confesses to me that he wants to be my boyfriend and that he has wanted to date me for a while now. He also told me that he would stare down guys who were seemingly flirting with me at work until they noticed him and stopped. Mind you he said this only an hour into the first date which was also the first time we had hung out outside of work. When he said those things I thought it was a little weird but for

some reason no red flags went off in my head. I ended up telling him that I would have to think about it and he offered to take me to a cute little lookout spot in a small city a little while away. I thought it would be cool considering it would be getting dark soon and we could see the city lights. We finally get there and we were talking for a bit and then made out for a bit before I had him take me home for the night. After I get home he is already sending me messages like, you're so beautiful I can't believe you actually went out with me and I want to see you again ASAP and I told Jonathan, another co-worker, about us. I'm so lucky and I can't believe I'm already starting

to fall for you. The first date happened on Friday and we had made plans to hang out again on that Monday. I didn't want to rush into anything and I also felt a little overwhelmed by him so in response to the text I simply said that I was going to bed soon but I had a good time and that I would talk to him later. Saturday rolls around and I decided to take my dog out for a hike that was really far out of town. I get a text from Alex asking to hang out that day at 12. I told him that I was down to hang out but I wouldn't be around in time to hang out at 12. After I sent that message I lost cell service and figured that would be the end of it. At about 2 I turned the corner

into my neighborhood to find him waiting for me parked outside my house. I was taken aback and asked why he was outside my house. He was beaming as I asked and he said we were supposed to hang out. I told him that we hadn't made any solid plans and that I was very surprised to see him outside. He told me he only had 30 more minutes before he had to go to work and that we should hang out. I didn't see much of a point but somehow he convinced me and we went to a park to hang out for a bit. He ended up being 30 minutes late to work because he didn't want to leave the park despite my persistence that he needed to leave because he shouldn't be late for work. Sunday comes along and I'm busy at work and Alex walks in. I was

really confused as to why he was there because I knew his shift didn't start for another few hours. I knew this because at the time I would do the schedule right up. He comes up to me, says hi, and that I look really beautiful. I said thank you but that I can't talk right now because I was busy trying to manage a late rush but he just kept standing around watching and being kind of weird. He is standing by me for a while so I asked him if he wants to sit and get some food and he says no. So I asked if he just wanted to sit because him just standing around was making me uncomfortable when he says no. So then I said, well then are you just going to stand around here until I'm off? His response, yeah.

At that point, I decided it was just better to ignore him and focus on working, so I did. Eventually, he got bored and left. I felt very weird, and even my co-workers mentioned how weird that was. Now, I usually clock off around 4 every day., however because of the late rush we had that day I got caught late completing side work. As I was clocking off I noticed that it was 4.45 and Alex was late for his shift which started at 4.30. I figured maybe he came in through the back and I somehow missed him so I finished clocking off and looked outside to my car. As I look at my car I notice his car parked right next to mine with him in it. I stood there for a while wondering why he wasn't coming in until it hit me that he was probably waiting for me. I nervously tell my co-worker what I just saw and she wishes me luck leaving and

promises to watch me to my car. I walk out to where the cars were parked and try to ignore him but he tries to scare me as I go to unlock my car. He yelled something like, Hey, what do you think you're doing? I can't fully remember exactly what he said. He then gets out and tries to kiss me. For some context, I had mentioned to him earlier that day when he came in that I don't want him kissing me at work because it was unprofessional. But now that I was out of work, he immediately went to kiss me. After what happened earlier that day, I didn't really feel comfortable enough to

let him kiss me, so I told him I didn't want to mess up my lipstick. It wasn't a complete lie, I had spent a lot of time getting my lipstick to look good that day and didn't want him messing it up. I told him this, but he didn't listen and kept trying to kiss me. After a few more deflected attempts and him telling me it didn't matter cause I was just going home, I told him I should go and tried to get into my car, which he was standing in front of. He let me in and I rolled down my window to say goodbye. Before I could even get the words out, he comes through my window trying to kiss me. I turned away but he kept trying to kiss me even though I had told him not to. I said I had to go and he finally kissed my head because I wouldn't

turn around and got out of my window so I could leave. He was messaging me a lot that night and I decided that I didn't want to talk to him because I was getting freaked out. However that night I get texts from a co-worker saying that Alex won't stop talking about me and how happy he is that we were dating. Which had never been established and how he just wants to take me to the beach after his shift ends but he wouldn't know if I would go because I'm all about my makeup. At this point I decided it would be best if we didn't have contact. The next day we met up in person and I told him that I wasn't looking for a relationship right now and it wasn't going to work out.

He asked if I still wanted to hang out with him that day since we had made plans. For some reason, I told him yes and we went to another park to hang out. We were sitting on a tire swing together, talking and he pulls out his phone and starts recording me. I really didn't want to be on camera and block my face but he kept shoving his phone in my face telling me I'm beautiful. For a few minutes it was really this uncomfortable back and forth of him trying to get me on camera and me saying I don't want to be. After a while he gave up and asked again if I was sure that I didn't want anything from him. I said yes. He then grabbed my face and started kissing me. After this point, some things happened that I don't really

feel comfortable sharing. What happened left me with some minor PTSD that I'm trying to work through and has unfortunately already fractured and ruined some friendships for me. After what happened, I never wanted to see him again and messaged him that I was sorry if I was unclear or led him on but I did not want any form of relationship with him. He responded with paragraphs saying how amazing I was and how he'll let me go for now and to have a good future. I thanked him for respecting what I said and figured that was the end of it. He later on sent me a breakup love song but I ignored it. I figured that was the end of everything. However,

the next time we worked together he cornered me and started trying to ask me questions about why I didn't want to date him. I told him that he was very overwhelming and I was not looking for that. I didn't want to talk to him and just said whatever would end the conversation fastest so I could walk away. That was the last shift we worked together and thankfully due to a great friend at the time I was able to take off the only shift I worked with him for three weeks straight. When I was gone though he kept asking all my co-worker friends about me and even tried to message me asking where I was. I didn't want any contact with him and decided it would be best for me to just block him. About a month after everything I got a snapchat notification from Alex requesting to be friends again. I considered friending him, asking him to

leave me alone and then blocking him but after some thought I figured that just blocking him would be a better option so I did.. Now, three months after everything, I get an Instagram notification saying that Alex had requested to follow me. I was confused and a little freaked out because I knew I had blocked him. I then checked my blocked accounts page and figured out that he had made a new Instagram and tried to follow me. At this point, I just wanted to forget and move on. I asked a co-worker of mine, who happens to be Alex's friend, if he could just tell Alex to leave me alone. Hopefully it will get through to him.

This coworker told me that Alex has a history of charges and that he doesn't understand how far is too far. He also mentioned that Alex has been in China and won't be back in town for another month. I'm hoping that he moves on and leaves me alone but I'm worried about what will happen when he comes back. I understand that this isn't the scariest story and that there's some better choices I could have made. In hindsight, I realized that there were ways in which I could have handled everything better. That being said, what did happen should have never happened. I just want him to leave me alone and move on.

I've been living in this state of fear, worrying if he will show up outside my house again, or my work. Now, Christmas is where I go all out. It's my favorite holiday of the year and nothing can stop my Christmas spirit. Unless if it's what happened this year. Me, my daughter, Beatrice, and her grandparents, my parents, usually go to town and shop for Christmas decor until we can't bear carrying bags over bags over bags of lights and little knit-knacks to scatter around the house. But my parents said they couldn't make it this year because my dad has fallen and broken his hip,

and my mom had to stay at the hospital to see if he was doing alright, so it was just me and Beatrice. Luckily, they had just opened up a new mall, and it had tons of holiday shops. It was at the back of town town and I was clever enough that the parking spaces would become extinct in 0.5 seconds back there so I had no choice but to work my way back there. From shop to shop there was at least something I found in there that caught my eye and before you knew it it was sold. When we finally got back to the end of town my backbone felt like it was going to let loose and crumble. I was wanting to hurry up but then to the end of town my backbone felt like it was going to let loose and crumble. I was wanting to hurry up but then in the middle of the long hallway there was a mall Santa looking

at me staring at my daughter. I was a little creeped out but it was a mall Santa. Those guys wouldn't dare to hurt me or my daughter but something was off. He was tall, very tall. He was also so skinny that his skin was basically useless at hiding his bones. Beatrice noticed him and started jumping up and down. It's Santa, mommy, it's Santa, look, it's Santa. Can we go over there, mommy, please? I agreed and we slowly walked over to him. There were no kids in line, there was no big display, it was just Santa in a foldable chair. We walked a little closer until we grinned, but from ear to ear, showing all his crooked, jagged teeth. That's when my mind freaked and I turned around and started to walk to the shops. Beatrice didn't quite agree. She started to throw a fit. Beatrice never throws a fit.

She then started to scream and growl and bite me like a wild animal. It was horrific. Beatrice never acted like this. I was kind of scared about her and I picked her up and tried to walk her to the car. But mommy, it's Santa. Let me see Santa. I hate you. I want to see Santa.

I buckled her up, put the bags in the car and drove off home. But there was something that I remembered. I remembered that the mall Santa said something once I whipped around. He said something along the lines of, bad little kids get put on the naughty list and chuckled. I became paranoid at that point and couldn't sleep until 10pm I then woke up with Beatrice in my face whispering Mommy, Santa is here, look I looked at the clock It was 3 in the morning I guess that Beatrice wouldn't leave me alone so

I got out of bed and went to the front door and looked through a window nearby I froze I wanted to cry I wanted to scream But most importantly, I wanted to hide. There was the same Santa. The Santa that was as skinny as Jack Skellington and in the same Santa costume as before, rustling through the snow and looking at me while coming to the front door. What scared me most is Beatrice asking me, Mommy, where's Santa's sleigh? I didn't know what to do. I grabbed Beatrice and did something that I regret to this day.

I hid her in her bedroom closet and ran to barricade the door. I heard pounding on the front door and then silence but only for a little bit. A window shattered. He was inside the house. I needed some self-defense. I then heard thumps downstairs, but luckily I remembered it was a vent inside Beatrice's closet. I came in the closet to find Beatrice with all the color drained from her face. I managed to rip the vent cover off the wall and started to crawl inside. I was crawling for a long time, until a whoosh of air seemed to come from in front of me. It was from outside. I knew that I could somehow get outside and grab an axe. I somehow got the vent cover off and ran in my PJs and went to the shed and grabbed a small hand axe

and got a ladder to climb up the wall to get back into the house. Luckily, I got back into Beatrice's closet and I locked the door behind me and went back into the barricaded room. The footsteps were coming up the stairs now, slowly. Then there was a large bang on the door. The doorknob twisted and turned, then it stopped. The footsteps went down the stairs and out the front door. Then I realized that I had left the

vent cover open and that I had left the ladder there too I then heard Beatrice scream and laughter in the vents I heard her wail and scream Beatrice's life was in my hands out of nowhere I cut the door with the axe over and over again until it made a hole. It reminded me of the scene in The Shining. I reached my hand in the hole and unlocked the door. I slammed the door open to find nothing except my daughter, rocking back and forth, sobbing. I grabbed her, catching a glimpse of the most beautiful light show I could have ever seen at that moment. Blue and red police sirens lit the front interior of the house and muffled screams of what I presumed were men wrestling. I waited in our room holding my daughter tightly

before a female officer called out my name saying everything is safe now. My neighbor had heard the commotion and called the police for me, bless their soul. The Santa in question turned out to be a homeless man that wandered our town's streets and had been removed from various properties before, but apparently my daughter and I were something that caught his eye and he followed us home. To think a simple tradition that even a child was so eager to partake in could be ruined by the likes of this man. The holidays will never look the same to me, or my daughter.

This story takes place around two years ago in 2016. At the time I was living in an apartment with my brother, mom and dad along with our pets. The only pet notable for this story is our pug, Elvis, who was newly acquired after adopting him from a family who now couldn't take care of him anymore. For some more background information it's important to take note of some things. The layout of the apartment from the front door viewed the living room on the right, the dining room and kitchen on the left, and in the center, a hallway that led down to our bedrooms and laundry room, the laundry room and master's on the left side of the hallway, and me and my brother's room on the right side. I had my own room, but I bunked with my brother since he had a bunk bed. To get to the beef of the story, I spent a lot of time in my room on my computer drawing digitally.

It was a big time waster and a hobby of mine. A lot of the time I'd be listening to music as I did so, until one day when I had paused myself to see a bright light flashing from the corner of my eye. I brushed it off casually, but it was until this became the norm when I slightly questioned the reliability of my eyes to be honest. I kept quiet of this and treated it like a secret because I knew very well if I went shouting to my mom about how I'm seeing lights she'd think I'm out of whack. For some weeks I'd see these lights and become paranoid of staying around too long after seeing one. I never got a horrible feeling about them until it became night time.

Around this year I also had great problems with sleeping. I had terrible stomach aches every night and I always felt like something was there. To say the least I was always tired and paranoid at times but honestly I've always been the jumpy type of person so I can't necessarily blame it on these events. About some weeks later my mom called out to say that dinner was ready so me and my brother stopped what we were doing and got up and made our way to the dining room. As we were exiting my brother's room I had seen yet another light coming from the laundry room. As I turned to look at my brother he had a very lost expression on his face and that's when I realized he too had seen the light.

I was the first to speak. Did you see that too? The light, right? He said. Yeah, the light. I responded. We blankly went to the dining room and spilled the beans to my mom who suggested that since it came from the laundry room it could have been some sort of mishap with the washer or dryer. I protested admitting that I've seen these things for a long while and my mom simply didn't believe it. Me and my brother contemplated about this subject for a while and we both continued to see these lights regularly, rarely when we were together. At one point the lights began to disappear as if from existence, and we brushed it off. Around the summer season, I was sitting in the living room with my mom talking about stuff.

As I glanced up at her, her expression turned very surprised and confused, and when I asked her what was wrong, she looked at me and asked if I just saw that. I had a basic idea already on what she was talking about. She managed to explain that she had seen a light at the entrance of the hallway and after we both sat there we saw it again. A short flash at the bottom of the hallway wall. My mom tried to cancel out any possibilities but none of them seemed to fit. She even went as far as to call my dad and ask about it. Of course, he didn't believe anything.

He still doesn't fully believe it. Anyways, as time goes by from then and things go back to normal after the occasional side conversation of oh, I saw a light. And, I guess fortunately, that's all it's been. So I live in the UK and am a 21 year old female. I run a B&B and am pretty used to having to make weirdos feel welcome. However, they are mostly harmless at the end of the day. But last week's experience was by far the worst and most terrifying. It all started on the

Monday night of last week. It was the end of summer break so a lot of tourists were traveling around my area so it was good business for the B&B. Staying in one of the seven rooms I had a foreign couple and their baby. In another room two girls who had traveled from Australia and in the attic room I had a lone man who to be honest I got bad vibes from at the very beginning of meeting him. He was tall, had long greasy hair, dirty unkempt fingernails and altogether he just looked very disheveled. He didn't really talk much either he just asked what room he would be staying in, walked in there and shut the door behind him. Still nothing too out of the ordinary in my opinion. Unfortunately it didn't stop there. Now I spend most of my time in my personal hobby room. I mostly watch TV for a lot of the days and then go upstairs to my bedroom to sleep.

I climbed the tall staircase and went to my room. I checked my alarm clock and it was only 9.30pm so I thought I might just lie down and watch some videos on my computer. Halfway through watching my favorite movie, I was interrupted by loud knocking on my door. It wasn't an average knock though. It was very aggressive. I looked through the peephole in the door

and was surprised to see it was the strange man who was staying in the attic bedroom. I opened up the door and he started talking straight at me, not letting me get a word in, telling me that the water pipe in his room had burst and that there was water spurting everywhere and that he wanted me to fix it. I apologized to him and without questioning anything let him lead me to his attic room. The first red flag was the fact that he shut the door and locked it behind him. The next thing was that there was no water anywhere. Then I remembered, there were not actually any water pipes in the attic. I don't know how I forgot but I guess I was more worried about the guy asking for a refund

than actually questioning whether he was being legitimate about the whole pipe burst thing. But now I was stuck. The only other people who were staying at the B&B were two floors below me so they would never be able to hear me scream. I'm also a small woman so I had no chance of being able to fight off this guy. I looked at him and he shot me a yellow grin. He lurched for me but I left out of the way. I noticed something sticking out of his jacket pocket. It was a knife handle. I pretty much ripped it out of his pocket and started swiping at the air with it. I bolted out of there and heard him running at top speed behind me until we got to the second floor where I heard him running back up to his room.

I locked myself in my room and called the police department. I also called all the other guests on their landlines and told them to lock their doors and stay in their rooms. When the police arrived they found the man hiding in the wardrobe in his room. I guess he freaked out when he heard the sirens. Apparently he had only had one backpack. It contained a toothbrush, duct tape, a Stanley knife, a Phillips head screwdriver, and some intimate things which I can't even write down, but I'm sure you can guess what I'm talking about. They never found out for sure what he

had planned on doing to me, but from the contents of his bag, we all had a very good idea. They took him away in cuffs and thankfully I've never had to see him again. I plan on moving away at some point soon because I don't really feel comfortable with him knowing where I live. Also, every day I just see the grin he gave me as he was taken away, and his wild eyes. I'm 20 years old and living in a smaller city in Missouri, which I have lived in my whole life. Around the time that I turned 5 years old, my parents decided to move our family to a new house across town. The house was part of a quaint neighborhood

and built into the side of a hill. This meant that from the front of the house it appeared to be one story but upon walking around the backyard you could see both levels of the home. Having moved from a small one-story house I was overjoyed with the idea of having a large backyard and more room to explore and play. Due to my excitement my parents allowed me to pick whether my bedroom would be upstairs or downstairs and craving a bit of freedom from them I decided to have my bedroom downstairs. I ended up moving into a very large room in the very corner of the basement which had at one point been converted from two bedrooms into one space. The room had one small window in the right back corner of the room

which had a small curtain covering it. Upon exiting the room you could enter a long hallway where you could either turn right and enter the second bedroom or turn left and walk down the downstairs living room. At the end of the living room and opposite the end of the basement was the door that led to the stairs to the upper level. I hate to give such a long explanation but it's important to know the layout to understand the full picture. The first few weeks of living in the house went smoothly and my young self was happily enjoying the new freedoms that came with a bigger space. Then I started to notice small strange things that would happen while I was alone downstairs. I would hear strange sounds such as shuffling feet, quiet tapping, small whispers, and thumping to name a few. To be fair, I passed

most of these off as normal house noises such as settling wood, my parents walking around, or my large chocolate lab tucker. I have also always had an extremely active imagination, but these sounds were different from where I would commonly hear upstairs. Soon after these noises started occurring, I began to feel like I was being watched every time I walked down or up the stairs, even as far as walking through the downstairs living room. This staring feeling gave me a true visceral feeling of dread and anxiety, like this thing watching me would chase after me if I walked too slowly. I remember that every time I had to turn off the downstairs lights, I would slam the downstairs doorway and sprint full speed upstairs

as I felt like something with dark intentions was waiting for me in the dark. I know, sounds normal and cliche given that I was a small little girl at the time, yet this feeling of being watched remained for the entire 10 years that I lived in this house. As these small occurrences continued, I had a growing feeling of dread as each night of sleeping in my bedroom passed. Though I not had a history of waking up throughout the night, I began to wake up regularly between 2 to 5am almost every other night. I also began to suffer from regular nightmares that would add to the feeling of dread I felt upon waking up. I would have the same feeling of being watched from the

corners of my room which appeared to be a true black darkness as opposed to the rest of the room which was dimly lit by my two small nightlights. Though these feelings continue to persist every night, I refuse to move upstairs and give up the little freedom I had from my parents, so I force myself to believe that it was all in my imagination and it was getting the best of me. A small part of me likes to believe that this is true, but due to the events that happened, I feel like this can't actually be true. The sounds, the dread and my nightmares all continued over the months until a night that still continues to baffle me as to whether I actually experienced it or not. Another important note before I continue

is that none of my nightmares ever went into full sleep paralysis and I have never suffered from such. So on this particular night I seemed to wake up at around 2.30am which was indicated by my bedside clock. I laid in bed trying to force myself to fall back asleep when I began to hear the small sounds of shuffling around the basement hallway and living room. Ignoring it, I rolled over to face my window and burrowed deeper into the blankets. I then saw that my curtains were swaying back and forth which was odd as there was no breeze in the room and nothing had touched them for hours. The boiling dread in my stomach worsened when the curtains to my horror were yanked open and shut by themselves. In my sleep depraved state I stared in shock at the curtains before the terror of what had just occurred set in, and I quickly dove under my covers.

I forced my eyes closed and tried to collect myself before I heard more shuffling around in the hallway. I covered my ears and continued to tell myself that what was happening was simply my imagination, but to my dismay I began to hear my door open slowly before loudly slamming shut. The pit in my stomach dropped through the floor as whispering voices started to come closer to my hiding spot under the blankets, all words unintelligible yet very distinct. I was debating whether to make a break for the door and the voices grew closer before a deep sharp voice said my name right next to my ear. My body went into full survival mode and I leapt out of bed, sprinting for the door and running, screaming bloody murder all the way upstairs to my parents bedroom. My dad ran out with a baseball bat closely followed by my mom, wielding a fire poker,

apparently thinking that they were being robbed. I proceeded to run into their arms and go into full panic attack. I couldn't stop crying and shaking for hours, to the point that I had to sleep for a large portion of the next day in my parents' bed just to recover from the shock of the situation. I then refused to sleep in my room for the next several days until I had fully convinced myself it was a dream just to be able to go downstairs again. The following week I was able to calmly explain to my dad what I had seen and I felt a sudden compulsion to draw what I believed this thing to look like.

Again I realized that it was probably just my 5 year old brain creating an image in order to cope, but to this day I am still chilled by what I ended up drawing. I had a clear image in my mind of a girl, about five feet tall, with long dark hair and sunken eyes. Cliche, I know, but the image was so clear in my mind and truly seemed to fit this thing that I had been feeling for months. What was truly strange was that after this final instance there was no more odd happenings outside of the continual feeling of being watched and the noises I would hear while alone. I'd really love to find some sort of explanation or insight on this as to my knowledge nothing happened in the house that could have led to a spirit inhabiting it.

Was this just a bad hyper-realistic nightmare? Or something paranormal? I'm a stay-at-home mom of two kids. My husband works nights and we often are awake before he gets home. Gets off at 7, usually gets home between 8 and 9. This happened the other day. We live in a townhouse-style apartment, so we have stairs which have sort of a lookout window over our living room.

The other morning, I got up and got my son and daughter downstairs, changed, and fed breakfast. After my daughter finished she asked for Elmo, her way of asking to watch Sesame Street, so we went into the living room. As I walked in I saw out of the corner of my eye who I assumed was my husband watching us from the stairs, but standing back a little like he was not wanting to be noticed. I thought it was weird so I turned to say something to him but he was gone. Not even five minutes later who should come walking in the door but my husband which makes me wonder who or what was on my stairs. In early 2007, I was freshly 18 and newly married, living in Fort Polk, Louisiana,

while my husband was training at Fort Benning. I was born and raised in Alaska, so living in the continental United States was a vastly new experience for me. My husband had a weekend off, though he was not allowed to leave the base, so he bought a Greyhound bus ticket for me to visit him and meet the soldiers he became friends with. I had never been on a Greyhound bus before, but I was excited to drive through the South and see new places and have my own little adventure. Sure, plenty of creeps bothered me on the bus and at the stations but I still had interesting conversations, met new people and generally enjoyed the experience. Regardless of the time, each station we stopped at was open and offered

food, outlets for charging and bathrooms. So when we arrived in Columbus, Georgia at about 2am, I expected the station to be open. It wasn't. Everyone else who ended their journey there had a ride waiting for them and suddenly, I was completely alone outside a locked building in the middle of downtown Columbus, full dark and terrified. I didn't know what to do and my phone was nearly dead from the last long leg of travel. I thought about walking to a gas station but I had no idea which direction to go and I couldn't see any nearby lit buildings. I truly expected the station to be open, thinking I would stay there for a little bit while my phone charged and I had something to eat and could have access to a phone book so I could call a cab.

All I had was an old sign hanging on the side of the building with incomplete phone numbers for taxi companies. The numbers had faded, been scraped off and defaced. There was only one complete phone number and it was handwritten in sharpie at the top of the list. Better than nothing, right? Wrong. I called the number and a guy answered, casual and sleepy, asking who I was. I apologized, explaining I was trying to call a cab, when the guy perked up immediately and said,

Oh yeah, that's me. I'm on my way. My phone died 10 minutes after I made the call, and it was another 15 minutes before the guy showed up in a traditional looking yellow taxi. I noticed the cab wasn't marked, no logo, numbers, rates, anything, but it had that taxi light thing on the top and in my young naive mind seemed totally legit. He waved me over, I got in and asked him to take me to Fort Benning, finally feeling some relief. The doors auto-locked and I'll never forget the first thing he said to me. He was silent until we got on the main road and said, Did you really think it was a good idea to call a number written in sharpie?

I froze. In retrospect, no, it wasn't the best idea I've ever had, but I had so few options and didn't want to be stranded in a huge foreign city in the middle of the night. I don't know what else I could have done. After a minute, I tried to laugh it off and hope he didn't notice I was shaking. I reached for my phone before remembering it was dead and realized that if something happened to me, no one would know if I even made it to Georgia. Staring at me in the rearview mirror, the driver told me what was going to happen.

There's no use in getting to Benning this early, the post hotel isn't even open. Drive around with me for a while, hang out and I won't even charge you. I told him no thanks, that I really needed to get to Fort Benning right away. Nah, he said, and that was that. We drove to a worn down apartment complex where he told me he was picking up a regular to keep me company. I didn't reply.

What could I even say? I wasn't raised religious but I was praying to God for some kind of miracle. Out came a woman who looked like a cliche woman of the night. Tube top, miniskirt, smudged mascara and an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips. Short but ratty bleached hair, pockmarked face, cheap purse. I had no idea who or what she truly was but she got in the front passenger seat and lit her cigarette. She turned to look at me.

Don't worry, he's cool, we're cool. Uh huh, that definitely helped. I had never considered jumping from a moving vehicle before but even if I wanted to, the back doors were child safety locked and I couldn't open them. Trust me, I tried. I was trapped like a caged animal, just waiting to die. I felt so stupid, so foolish. Sitting in the back seat of the cab, no idea what to do and no idea what was going to happen to me. I kept trying to rationalize it, downplaying the situation in my mind. I was too afraid and frozen to actually do anything anyway.

As we were driving around, the girl was telling me about the driver, how he was ex-military and had just started this cab business, what a down-to-earth fun guy he was, and how lucky I was to be picked up by him. How I was cute and young and everything was cool, cool, cool. Her words were a bit slurred and I knew she was either drunk or on something. I didn't really want to know. We pulled up outside a small blue house sometime later, about an hour before the break of dawn, and the driver told the girl to keep an eye on me while he went inside. I'm in full blown panic mode, the suspense of it all making it so much worse, so the girl offered me a cigarette to calm my nerves. I wasn't a smoker but I said yes. She

got out of the cab and opened my door, stumbling a bit before sitting on the curb and lighting another cigarette. She lit mine as I sat next to her and I started thinking about whether or not I could outrun her with my heavy backpack and how long the driver would be inside for. Without me asking the girl told me the driver was inside showering in preparation. I asked what he would be showering and preparing for but she kept repeating how he was cool, how much fun we were going to have and how cute I was. Then she said, ranger cab because he was like a ranger or something. Or maybe that was his dad. He's a good looking guy, military muscles. God finally answered my prayer when the girl slumped over and passed out in the grass.

I saw the track marks on her arms, and apparently the driver was inside taking a shower and wasn't about to come back in the next few moments. I grabbed my backpack and ran. I don't remember exactly what happened after I started running. I know I took off as fast as my feet would carry me and that I didn't dare stop to catch my breath. One minute I was sprinting for my life, lungs on fire, and then I was trudging along with tears in my eyes as I walked through the Fort Benning Gate with my military spouse ID, asking how to get to the base hotel. Honestly, I wish I knew how I got there. I was in deep survival mode and didn't stop processing any of it until I made it to my room. I don't know if someone gave me a ride, if I followed a map or what. I've never blocked a

memory out like that before or ever again. I told my husband everything when I finally saw him. He didn't believe me. I probably wouldn't believe me either. His lack of trust made me think no one would take me seriously so I never went to the police. I still had the number I dialed saved in my call history. I knew the girl called it the ranger cab. What I didn't have was the confidence or support to report it. Sometimes I think back to that day and wonder what would have happened if the girl didn't let me out of the cab, if she hadn't passed out on the ground, if the driver never stopped for a shower. It's one mystery I don't need the answer to. So this was long before catfishing became a term we used,

though the act itself has been around as long as social media has. This was back during my freshman year of college, and it was during the MySpace era. In college, I made friends with someone in my honors colloquium class, Leslie, and she in turn introduced me to many of her other friends, who then became my friends. They'd all known each other for years, but were very welcoming to me, and I felt much like part of the group. That being said, I didn't really know them that well when this happened. What they did seemed, well, not like them. But then I realized I didn't exactly know what was like them.

A member of the group, Catherine, was going away to school in Boston and so the night before we all decided to have a going away party of sorts. We were going to visit another friend, Tamara, who was going to school in Philadelphia, which was about an hour away, and then we were going to just have fun in the city. Our designated meeting place to drive down there was Dunkin' Donuts. When I got there, Leslie was there with our friends Samantha and Anthony, and Leslie looked angry. She was sitting there with her arms crossed, kind of staring at nothing but with an angry look on her face. As for Samantha and Anthony, they kept looking at the door and they seemed both nervous and shifty. I could tell

they were on edge. I sat down at the table of awkwardness since we had to wait on Catherine and a couple of more friends and things got awkward when no one was talking. Finally I was just like, what's the deal with you three? Leslie replied, you should ask them. Gesturing to Anthony and Samantha. They suddenly looked guilty but before they could answer the door opened again and they both went from looking guilty to anxious and mildly scared. I looked to the door and saw just a normal guy, pretty nondescript. When he walked in, he just kind of glanced around the room, like he was looking for someone. Anthony and Samantha wouldn't say anything. Leslie just kept huffing and shaking her head, and all three kept looking over at this guy as

he sat down. As soon as Catherine and the others got there, it was like we couldn't get out of there fast enough. Catherine, our friends Evan and Julie and I were very confused. It was on the way to Philadelphia that we learned the truth. It was Leslie who told us. Apparently Anthony and Samantha had created a fake MySpace account and they'd been catfishing this guy, Calvin. We didn't know the term catfishing yet but that's what it was. They had created a fake account using a picture of an actress or singer or something. I can't remember, only her face was obscured. Apparently this had been going on for a couple of weeks and the conversations had gotten

serious, like Calvin seemed to really like this fake girl they had created. I didn't know why they did this, and when I asked them, they didn't really have a reason. Mostly they were just bored. It turned out that they had told him to meet them at Dunkin' Donuts at the time we were there. I think that once he showed up, Anthony and Samantha realized that this wasn't just a game.

That Calvin was a real person with real feelings and I do think they felt badly about what they had done but it was too late, they couldn't take it back. There was no reason they had chosen Calvin, he was just some random guy they had picked. I guess Leslie had found out about it a couple of days prior and told them to end it and that's why she was so angry at them because they had told her what had happened that Calvin was supposed to be there. After that I never really saw Anthony and Samantha in the same way. These weren't really people I wanted to be friends with especially when I saw the messages and saw how much they had gotten Calvin to like him. I thought this would be the end of it.

I was wrong. About a week later, everyone came to my house for pizza and just to hang out, and Samantha and Anthony told us that they had gotten messages from Calvin. I didn't think much of it because I already knew he had been messaging their fake account, wanting to know why she had stood him up and he seemed upset, especially when this fake girl stopped replying. But no, that wasn't what Samantha and Anthony meant. He hadn't messaged the fake account, he had messaged their accounts. I remember them telling me that. My sharp intake

of breath, the way my heart rate increased, that unnerved me. The messages were more of the same but also Calvin made it clear he knew what they had done and he seemed even angrier. Anthony in particular got a very long furious message from Calvin. I don't want to say that I thought they deserved it but honestly they had done a terrible thing and there were some consequences. I figured it would die down in a couple of days, but it didn't. A few days after Calvin had messaged Anthony and Samantha, he started messaging the rest of us who had been in Dunkin' Donuts that night. Now this really scared me. Keep in mind that I was already dealing with other stalker situations, so I was understandably on edge and this guy had found me.

I didn't know much about computers, but I thought he must have traced Anthony and Samantha's IP address or something since they use their own computers for their account. But when it came to the rest of us, we didn't understand. How had he found us? My theory is that once he found Anthony and Samantha, he looked through their friends and recognized us from our pictures, but I don't know for sure. All of his messages came on Myspace, so at least he wasn't texting us and

stuff, but still, his messages were very angry. He kept saying things like, how could you do this to me? And you made a fool of me, how dare you? I thought about replying, but Evan had done that already, telling Calvin that we weren't responsible and he didn't believe him. Honestly Evan totally sold Anthony and Samantha out but we figured that Calvin already knew they were the ringleaders. He just didn't know that they were the sole perpetrators instead thinking we all had a hand in it. I figured there was no point to defend myself since Calvin didn't believe Evan when he had tried. This went on for a couple of weeks and it seemed like Calvin was getting increasingly angry the more we ignored him, because that's what he said we were doing.

Finally, I had had enough. I replied and told him again that we weren't responsible, corroborating Evan's story. I didn't actually put all the blame on Anthony and Samantha, but I told Calvin that it was just a couple of people in the group. Then I apologized, though I think that only made him angrier. He didn't believe anything we said, so I blocked him. We all did, but he just kept making new accounts. In two weeks, he probably made three different profiles, in addition to the one he had had at the beginning. When I finally defended myself, Calvin messaged me back and said, you made me into a fool, an idiot, and one day you'll know how that feels. I think you will. Maybe it was because of everything else that had happened with this guy, but that sounded like a threat, like he was going to personally make sure I knew how we had made him feel.

We were lucky. As far as I know, Calvin never did anything beyond messaging us aggressively. It could have been a lot worse, like it was my other stalker and me. Eventually, Calvin stopped messaging us, and then he deleted his account. I felt bad for the guy, and Samantha and Anthony had been wrong. But what Calvin was doing to us was wrong too. The harassment. Eventually he stopped though after a couple of months and I never saw him again. I slowly drifted apart from the group. First Anthony and Samantha for obvious reasons, then Catherine, then Julie, Evan and Leslie. I wasn't too broken up for the

first two because they weren't the kind of people I really wanted to be friends with. Not only had they done a terrible thing, they had brought this Calvin into our lives. Like opening a door and inviting somebody in. I was visiting family overseas in a wonderful positive country, their flag is a huge plus, and was waiting for a tram with my mom on the first day I was there. I was extremely jet lagged and tired having landed at 9am local time after barely sleeping on the flight and train ride over. I wasn't at my best mental functioning level but it's best to power through and try to acclimate to the new time zone as soon as possible. After a few minutes of me swaying in place with exhaustion, a man, late 20s early 30s strode purposefully up to me and asked, are you a man or a woman? Well that's nice, but due to my fatigue

state my brain farted out, personal interaction, beep bop, yay. I stupidly entertained him and responded that I was a woman. Overjoyed, the man babbled at me in a mix of English and French throughout the wait and then got on the tram with us while I nodded and looked anywhere but at him. For the first time in my existence on this earth, my mother had nothing to say or anything nasty to interject, so I was unsupported and uncomfortable. In a single breath, this guy told me his name, Omar, and said he was from Morocco, asked for my phone number, and said he was losing himself in my green eyes. Ever helpful and caring, my mom finally jumps in and proceeds to give him my number. I stare at her in horror while he dials it in and then turns on me, angrily saying it doesn't work. We didn't use the country code, it's an American number. In any case, just wait and call it in five days when I'm 4,000 miles

away from you. He says he's going to whatever place a few stops away so I drag my once again silent and useless mom off the tram at the next stop. Not before I got a big hug and kiss on every available surface of my face along with a, I will see you soon. Great, I can't wait. My mom offers me nothing in the way of apology or any sort of response at all, so I forget about it and the rest of the visit goes uneventfully. Once I'm back in the US, I find that he somehow found my Facebook. My number is not in any way linked with that I could find, but maybe I missed something. I don't accept his request but that doesn't stop him from messaging me multiple times daily with what I assume are attempts at poetry all revolving around my eyes. Interspersed between these declarations suggesting his likely eventual

harvest of my eyeballs he adds to multiple group chats that are all in Arabic. I can neither speak nor read Arabic. Eventually I'm in like 15 different Arabic group chats that are all in Arabic. I can neither speak nor read Arabic. Eventually, I'm in like 15 different Arabic group chats and I have no idea what's going on, as Google Translate was no more understandable than the chats themselves. I hadn't blocked him yet because, like a car crash, I couldn't look away. Finally, I message him back to say that he seems nice but I'd like to keep my eyeballs in my face and I'm sure he'll find a nice lovely girl to harvest parts from in the future. Before I block him, I get a last plea.

My love is your eyes. Please let me gaze upon them again and hold them forever. Super romantic. Definitely not grade A Buffalo Bill in the making but not enough to make me feel any less secure in my decision to block him and change my number. I've visited overseas a number of times had, and still has to this day, some serious problems with violence towards women, and kidnapping of young women is sadly a thing that happens very often. Although I lived all my life in a decent area, some of the other areas weren't so decent,

so I kind of learned how to avoid problems. So it's been a while since I moved to another country where I had been feeling safe for the past two or three years and my family decided that it was finally time to pay me a visit at my new home. The differences between environments were so great that they were all perplexed and amazed about doing things that would be otherwise considered normal to many like going out at late hours of the night. During their stay, I suggested we all go to see the city center, and we did. It was such a lovely thing. The weather was nice, we had dinner at a good restaurant and took some pictures, but they began to get tired,

so we began to head home. It wasn't even 11pm, but it had been a long day of going around. I was talking to my parents as I led the group back when I noticed a couple of men coming on the opposite direction with their cell phones up as if they were taking a video. I ignored it and kept moving, thinking they were just tourists. I got chills when I noticed that the guys, only one block away from where I first saw them or standing a couple of meters from us. These guys had gone back on their steps somehow and were now very near not five minutes after I saw them. Furthermore they were looking at me intently and even following me with their eyes. My first reaction was to ignore them, pretend that I didn't see them as to not alert my family because it so happens to be that some of my family are quite dramatic and would just blow things out of proportion. So I carried on, and these idiots did

too, even trying to walk as closely as possible to make eye contact with me. I began to use my father to hide from their view. He's tall, chubby, and has always had this appearance of being a frightening person, but he's pretty chill and less provoked. For a time this worked and the guys kept their distance, but when we arrived to the metro it got even creepier. One of the guys found his way to sneak around to be one person behind my dad on the electric stairs and tried to walk past my dad, even attempting to keep making eye contact. Then I noticed that his hands never left his face, covering his mouth for no reason. The other guy was far behind but I managed to keep myself out of view and luckily whoever that was in front of the guy pushed him backwards. I don't know how but

we managed to lose them between the crowd but not before I'd get a last glance at them saying something to each other, still keeping their cameras out and pointing at me with their fingers. A few years ago, my roommates and I lived on the third floor on the backside of an apartment building. She was in the process of moving out though, so it was mostly just my dog, George Washington, and I. I knew just about every neighbor in my building and from what I knew, they were super chill. In order to understand this story, I need to explain the way my apartment was set up.

In order to get to the door to enter our apartment, you have to pass by my window, which was a very long window in my bedroom. I had never had any issues until about 2am on a Saturday, well technically Sunday. I heard footsteps on the walkway outside my window and saw a shadow pass it. I usually am a groggy person when I first wake up, but ever since it had been just me, I was more aware of my surroundings, so it jolted me awake. I had a nightstick under my bed, so I grabbed it and debated what to do next for the next 30 seconds. I opened up my bedroom door quietly, right in front of our main entrance, and started to notice

the handle jiggle ever so slightly. Clearly at this point I knew I could either A. Crap my pants, B. Get attacked, or C. Scare the person off. Choice A seemed the most likely for my personality type, but choice C it was. I turned on the outside light, kicked the outside door as loud as I could, and screamed a string of words that would make a sailor blush. I heard footsteps turn and quickly walk the other way. I called my stepdad who was thankfully living close by. He came by to check on me and wanted me to stay with them but I said I would be fine and off he went. The next morning I got up to get ready for church not really thinking of the night before. I returned home shortly after and was texting on my phone as I reached to get my keys and put them in the lock on my night before. I returned home shortly after and was texting on my phone as

I reached to get my keys and put them in the lock on my front door. I couldn't find the keyhole though, so I looked up and noticed that my entire lock had been bashed in. It hadn't really set in what had happened yet, so I opened the door and looked in. A lot of my stuff was gone. Televisions, computers, jewelry. Luckily they left my doggo there and unharmed. The irony is I got him to be my best friend and a guard dog. He fulfills one of those roles but I'll let you figure out which. My brain caught up to my surroundings so I grabbed George and ran outside to call the police. They came out, guns drawn, as they cleared my apartment. It felt surreal to talk with forensics in your own residence. They never found out who did it and in the end it worked out okay. A lot of the jewelry they stole was from an

ex that I had intentions of pawning anyway and renter's insurance covered that, so I got some sweet new technology upgrades. However, I'm still very unsettled internally about that night and day, particularly about that night. I replay it and often wonder what would have happened had I not woken up, or if the person hadn't been so easily turned away. It also is very unsettling to know that they were watching me, waiting for me to leave for church so they could break in. Ever since that day I keep my head on a swivel and pay extremely close attention to my surroundings, particularly when I get home. Something like a week ago I came back from school a little bit late so I could take my dog for a walk right after my return. It was around 5pm and it was starting to get dark. The walk itself was pretty normal. The same path, the same people, everything seemed usual. But when I was getting

close to my apartment building, two random women approached me. One of them had really short hair and looked like someone in their 30s. The second one was harder to describe. She had long hair and a specific type of look, like some overgrown, not really pretty girl. And she was the one who started the encounter by saying, can I pet your dog? That question didn't really surprise me. My dog looks pretty cute and a lot of people were asking me the same thing. But my dog often barks at them for no reason. He never hurt anyone but he could scare someone.

I replied that petting him is not a great idea because my dog often barks at people, making it pretty apparent. But she approached him anyways. My dog was surprisingly friendly and didn't bark at all. Then she asked, what is your name? I was busy calming down my dog because he was jumping all over the place, so I didn't hear the question correctly. I asked, his name or mine? which she replied nah yours i was surprised because no one asked a question like that during any of my walks with the dog what i told her my true name she reached out her hand but didn't say her own name i shook her hand being a little bit confused then she asked how old are you i was starting to be a little afraid. It sounded like a typical

child kidnapping situation that you can watch in commercials. But I, being a complete idiot, told her my true age. Then she came a little closer to me and asked, can I take your leash? I, being completely frightened at this point, was starting to say no when her sister, that's how she called her, said, Oh, come on, you have your own dog and your own leash. Besides, Paul is going home, he doesn't have time for this. The long-haired girl, disheveled, asked me, Paul, you're not going home, right? And gave me a weird look.

I said the truth about being late and in a hurry, so I'm going home right now. But she came even closer and asked with the voice of a child who wants a toy from a shop. Can I have the leash? And started to reach for it. I moved my hand back and quietly said, no. I was more frightened at this point. Her sister started to pull her arm and going away saying, no, you'll have it next time, come on. The girl in short hair reached out her

hand again and I shook it, being completely disoriented. I started to head home when she shouted, see ya pa. I went back home really fast and started telling my mom what happened. She said that there are two options. The first one is that the girl could have been autistic or something, and the second one actually kind of scared me. My mom started telling me about multiple child kidnappings and that I could have potentially have ended up being one of them. When I take my dog for a walk, I look around all the time and hold my leash really hard,

as it was some sort of weapon of sorts. She could have wanted to take it out of my hands so it wouldn't block her from kidnapping me. I couldn't be sure. Now I'm afraid to go out when it's dark outside, even though I loved it before. This happened about four years ago. I had just graduated from high school and was a month and a half into summer break. Needing money for college, I began working full-time for the school district I had just graduated from. Due to a music festival I wanted to attend as well as monetary concerns, I did not go with my family to North Carolina, which was fine by me. What 18-year-old doesn't want a house to themselves

for a week? Furthermore, my parents' house is out in the country, so I had little to no fear about my neighbors complaining about parties or being bothered in any way whatsoever. But I was wrong. I often take the back roads home from my friend's house but on that night I decided I wanted some McDonald's so I took the main drag and came home on a different route. This way takes you past a mechanic's shop not a mile away from our cul-de-sac. It was between midnight and 1am and as I passed the mechanic's shop I noticed a car's lights turning on. Or should I say, for this car had

only one headlight working. I remember thinking it was strange that this car all of a sudden turned its lights on as I was passing and began to become even more concerned when it pulled out behind me. But I tend to be paranoid by nature. Nothing serious, but I always question if the person behind me is following me and whether they mean me harm. So I brushed this off as an unfortunate coincidence. But as I neared my street and the car was still tailing me, I started to become freaked out. I looked at my gas tank and my heart sunk as I saw I was on E.

Either I pull on my street and go home, or I risk driving around some and seeing if this dude follows. Yet that option held the risk of my car running out of gas and leaving me stranded on the road, and I figured I'd rather take my chances on my own soil than on the side of some dark and lonely country back road. So I turned onto my street only to have my heart sink when the one headlamped car makes the turn right behind me. At this point I know I'm screwed. With nothing left to do I begin pulling up my driveway. It's a hill about a hundred yards long. To my utter horror they begin to follow me up. Looking back I should

have called the cops but there was no love lost between law enforcement and myself and at the time I was too caught up to even consider calling them. If my family would have been home this never would have happened. I could have called my dad and he could have grabbed his gun, but he along with the rest of my family were gone, 12 hours away at the beach. So when they began to drive up my driveway after me, I stopped and put my car in reverse. They responded to my reversing as well, yet they stopped at the bottom, effectively blocking my driveway. At this point, I pulled forward again, only to have the same jig and dance happen. They followed. I reversed. They reversed and sat at the end, blocking my escape. I quickly pulled up and turned my car around to come at them head on. By this time, they were halfway up my driveway, the furthest they had come up.

Looking back, I was terrified, alone, and angry. Who did this person think they were? With my brights on and shining right into their face, I opened my car door and got out. I pulled out my pocket knife and grasped it in my left hand while I grabbed my hammer in my right. I used to keep one in between my seat and door. In some weird, desperate mindset, I made a split split second decision to grab the hammer from the head with the handle sticking out. My hope was that it would be mistaken as a gun. I began yelling and pointing my hammer slash gun at the car, screaming at them to get out of here and what do you want? All the while I held my hammer as a gun and prayed that

they would fall for it. Whether they did or not, I can't say. Part of me believes they thought it was a gun due to my brights being behind me, making the whole front side a shadow, yet they could have just not wanted to fight. Perhaps they thought it was a girl or was timid and wouldn't react so aggressively and violently. Who knows, but it worked. They slowly backed off my driveway and crept down around the cul-de-sac. As they were leaving my street I ran after them, hiding behind my neighbor's houses and at every driveway the car would slow down to a near stop as if scoping out the houses. Thankfully they didn't pull into my driveway and they turned off my street altogether.

After I was safely in my house I ate my McDonald's by the front window with all and they turned off my street altogether. After I was safely in my house I ate my McDonald's by the front window with all the lights turned off waiting to see if they would come creeping back. Thankfully they didn't but that night I locked every door in the house which I always did anyways and slept with a hammer, machete and baseball bat next to me and my pocket knife under the pillow. Complete overkill I know, but I was terrified. Now I know where my dad keeps his guns, so if it ever happens again, I'll be better prepared. I live in a crappy part of a city in Ontario, Canada with my parents.

I woke up at 10 in the morning, for I had a busy night of cleaning. I did the usual routine of turning on my laptop, checking my emails, Facebook, etc. And then I got a knock on the door. Now we were looking for a new house because our landlord wanted us out immediately and she is one of those unprofessional ones. When I looked at the window, there was this woman who looks like she could be related to the landlord. I woke up my dad, who I'll call Bob, and he answered the door. This woman was actually a homeless person, but something about her seemed a bit off. She had her pants down, but she was wearing leotards and she smelled terrible, like a dead animal was left in the garbage full of expired food for a couple of months.

She has a teardrop tattoo below her eye. For those who don't know what that means, a teardrop tattoo is a symbol for the wearer who has committed some form of murder. She pulled her pants up and starts rambling on about some mumbo jumbo crap including that meth is medicine. One of the mumbo jumbos stuck with me. She said that she was a guardian angel. She kept going on and on about how she's just a spirit trapped in a body. She also said that she was dead three times. She asked for a place to stay but we said

no. Good choice of words in my opinion because she was giving me major red flags, like she was giving a vibe that she was unpredictable. We gave her coffee, cigarettes and warmth but she gave me major red flags. We finally asked her to leave nicely and she took 45 minutes to get ready. Kept asking for a ride or money for a taxi and we couldn't do that. I know that seems insensitive but we gotta do what we gotta do. So she finally left but she didn't wear her boots, left them right on the neighbor's lawn, leaving us to enjoy the rest of our day. Sophomore year of my undergrad career I took a class that was quite challenging and 90% PH due to students because my dean suggested it in place of a typical econ class.

I thought it would be cool to be challenged by such a class, which I was, but I also had the unfortunate encounter with a PhD student who actively tries to ask girls to paint their faces. It was a very small evening class, maybe 10 of us in a small room. I'm very shy and everyone was older than me, so I didn't talk to anyone. Very soon after the semester started, I get a Facebook friend request. It was one of the PhD students. I thought it would be useful to have a contact in such a difficult class. He had different motives for adding me though.

Note, we have not spoken or even greeted each other in real life. His first message to me read, Quick, how do you feel about face paint? I asked what he means, and he sends me some Google image photos of Day of the Dead face paint, as well as some Juggalo stuff. He then asks me if he can paint my face, and then sends a question mark when I don't reply for 20 minutes. I said, I think I'll pass,

and he goes, why? with a frowny face and follows with still no luck in the face paint department a week later. So at this point I am actively ignoring someone that I have to be in a small room with two times a week. Maybe that sounds harsh or like I'm being presumptuous besides just trying to protect myself as a young woman. That's because at the same time, an app called Yik Yak was very popular for college students. It's basically a totally anonymous forum where people at respective campuses can say what they want. While browsing, I find a thread of someone complaining about a dude who is persistently asking to paint their face. A few other people in the comments say they've encountered the same person. Naturally, I join in the conversation.

This leads me to find this dude is posting on the app himself. He very tactlessly uses the same account to both ask girls to paint their face and also impersonates girls and pretends to praise the great work he did on their face. The weirdest thing I saw him post was a photo of some naive undergrad in the dorms with her face painted and bragging about how they had made out after he did it. This guy does not try to be subtle and joins those incoming class Facebook groups asking freshmen if he can paint their face. At this point in time he was infamous and my friend told me about the posts in those groups. I should also mention he was in a

relationship throughout all of this according to Facebook. I would totally like to believe this is some hobby of his that he genuinely wants to have an outlet for but his behavior on Yik Yak suggests it does something more for him. He also seems to target young freshman girls specifically and, in my opinion, thinks it comes off innocent when it in fact does not. I had a class in the same building later in my college career, in which he has an office, and I would hope with all my might that we would not meet again, knowing he was a huge weirdo who probably resented me. Something just sparked this memory and I felt I should share it while it's fresh. I had some other drama down with my gaming group that left things bad and I wanted to avoid them online and start over.

This is a story all of its own that's long and convoluted so after making all new accounts I decided to search my old handle and see if anything came up. Nothing really interesting or even about me till the bottom of the first search page. It was a missed connection type posting on some forum. Do you know how to find old gaming handle? I think she lives in the city from things she said while streaming on Twitch. She has cats, 16 years old. Wrong, I was 19. Super creepy that I thought I was underage and was still trying to dig up contact info on me. It listed some other info about what sort of things I was into, talked about my accent, asked if I didn't live in the city it was posted to, if someone knew what city I was actually from, and what my real name was. Real cake topper is that they had a

screenshot of me during one of my few streams with the post. This really freaked me out as I've had several stalkers of varying degrees over the years. The post was a month old thankfully with zero replies but also I had not streamed on Twitch in about five months so this person was thinking about me for four months before posting this plea for information. After freaking out for a bit about it I contacted the site, linked the post, told them it was me and that this was creepy and I didn't want people crowdsourcing information on me. Luckily, whoever ran the site was understanding and after only asking for minimal proof it was me, a picture with handwritten sign with that day's date, they took the post down and banned the person's account. Side note, I doubt it was my old gaming friends as they knew the exact area I was actually

from. Very strange. Hey friends, thanks for listening. Be sure to subscribe and click that notification bell to be alerted of all future narrations. If you got a story, be sure to submit them to my subreddit, rletsreadofficial, and give and receive feedback from the community, and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly.

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