The Lets Read Podcast - 25: Episode 025 | Abduction & Creepy Nursing Home Stories | 29 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: March 4, 2019

Welcome to the twenty-fifth 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 Abductions, Japanese Cemeteries & Creepy Nursing Homes. 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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If you have questions or concerns about gambling or someone close to you, please contact Connex Ontario at 1-866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. So this encounter happened when I was 22 years old. I was working with one of my closest friends, Enrique, in a cable company. The supervisor, knowing that we were close friends, paired me up with him so I could get trained. When we were leaving the shop after loading up our gear, we were hoping we were going to be sent to some college dorms, but in turn ended up at a retirement home. Part of the gear that we loaded up was a tablet that we used to communicate with dispatch, to get confirmation

and talk to the other techs, sort of like a group chat. Once we arrived at the retirement home, we checked in with security and made our way around the facility, installing the equipment in about 60 rooms. Right when we got there, I noticed a little old lady in a white gown with brittle hair who was roaming around the halls in her wheelchair, talking to herself. This reminded me of that Supernatural episode, Something Wicked, with the blind old lady in the wheelchair. If you know, you know. We were required to go from room to room installing the equipment,

briefly explaining to the patients how to room installing the equipment, briefly explaining to the patients how to use the remote controls, but some of these patients suffered from some sort of memory loss, which made it harder to explain and go about our job. As we were moving to a different room, I still continued to see that same lady in the wheelchair talking to herself. Fast forward, we were almost three-fourths of the way done when we walked into one of the rooms and the patient there was in her bed crying for help. I immediately notified the staff and they told me that she does that often and she was fine. This made it harder for us to be working in the room where this lady kept crying out for

help and we had to ignore her and continue. We had skipped a couple of rooms due to them being vacant or some other reason. Now this is where it actually gets creepy. As we were working on the last room we were having trouble with the tablet I previously mentioned because the signal of that area was poor and we couldn't get through to dispatch to activate the new equipment that was assigned to this specific room. Enrique and I were both standing side by side out in the hallway and I was aware of the situation so it wasn't necessary for neither of us to address it out loud. While we were waiting on dispatch to get back to us, the lights in the hallway started flickering then went out,

leaving us in complete darkness. With this just happening I turn to him and say, Whoa, that's creepy. From behind us, all of a sudden we hear, They're not going to answer you. We turn around and see that it was the lady in the wheelchair sitting in the middle of the hallway caressing a baby doll. At this point, we were both confused and my friend says, I'm sorry, what ma'am? She points at the tablet he had in his hand and states, Your phone, they're not going to answer you.

And chuckled to herself. Even though I'm 6 foot 2, 350 pounds, this little old lady still scared the crap out of me but anyway, as we stood there looking at each other and not really believing what had just happened she made her way past us into the room that we were headed to which was occupied with an older couple. We see that she rolled her wheelchair into the threshold of that room and this triggered the couple. The wife yelled at her. What are you doing here? You're not welcome here. The husband also yelled at her. Go on, get, get out of here. It was more of a reaction of being scared rather than the anger of someone trespassing their property. After this she backed out of the room and left.

We went on as usual setting up equipment but still weirded out over what we just witnessed. Before we left the room for the day we remembered we had to go back and check the rooms that we had skipped to see if the residents had come back from bingo or whatever old people do. We had a staff member look at a list of rooms that we needed to double check and she verified that some were vacant and that the one we were trying to get into belonged to the lady in the wheelchair which she always left unlocked. So we got permission to go in and do our job. When we opened the door we saw that the only furniture in there was a bed with a single white sheet and one pillow as well as the single empty

nightstand. As we were looking for a coax cable jack sticking out of the wall, which if you don't know it's where you thread the cable to the wall to get signal, we located it behind the bed. Even though this room didn't have a TV, we were still required by dispatch to install a small cable box in order to keep track of it in the system. My friend and I moved to the bed to get better access and saw that on top of the bed was the small baby doll she was caressing in the hallway. That really freaked us out even more so that this made us break the world record

for the world's fastest equipment install. Then we bolted out of there hoping we never get sent back again. My story comes to you by way of Canada, and more specifically from Montreal, via my husband and his family. He was born there, though he moved to the states when he was two and as such has no real memory of any of the events his family experienced while living in the house in Shambly. His sisters however were both 10 and 7 respectively when all of this went down. They remember the story I'm about to tell you first hand though they both steadfastly refused to talk about it. The story was actually told to me by

my father-in-law and was then corroborated by my mother-in-law, my husband's uncle, and two of his elder cousins. Now then, this is a little long so please bear with me. My husband's family used to love Halloween. They would host huge parties every year, all the kids would dress up and they'd just generally go all out. During the last party they ever hosted, they decided to bring in a self-proclaimed witch, and I do mean a witch, not a Wiccan. She called herself that and claimed to, in fact, practice magic, who came in at the end of the party once the children had gone to bed. It was the adult portion of the party, for lack of a better word and this witch apparently hosted a seance which included lighting a black flame candle and calling on spirits.

That night after the seance was complete, apparently nothing happened during the event itself and all of the guests had gone home. My mother-in-law went to bed and my father-in-law decided he wanted to go ahead and do some cleaning up even though it was well past midnight. He still liked this by the way, total night owl. He cleared the tables and piled all the dishes in the sink and decided he might as well do them now. In this house the kitchen sink was directly in front of a window and on the opposite end of the kitchen was the basement door and the unfinished steps leading down to the basement. Father-in-law was standing at the kitchen sink washing the dishes, by hand, no dishwasher, facing the window with his back turned to the basement door. He tells the next part of this story in a bit of a disjointed way. Multiple things all happened at once. He froze and dropped

the dish he was holding. He suddenly felt as though there were eyes on the back of his head. He started hearing noises coming from the unfinished basement steps. When I asked him what the sounds were he basically just said it sounded like something really big was slowly climbing up the basement steps. He heard heavy breathing and what he describes as being the sound of sharp nails or claws on the unfinished steps behind him. He was completely frozen, not like something was physically paralyzing him, but rather that he was flat out so terrified that he couldn't get himself to move. The next part is the part that still haunts me to this day. He said the frozen

feeling stopped and he suddenly felt compelled to turn around and see whatever it was he was hearing behind him. But then he heard a voice as clear as day in his head tell him not to turn around. The voice told him that whatever he did he shouldn't turn around, that he should turn off the lights and go to bed and not under any circumstances look in the direction of the basement. So he did. He flipped off the lights and go to bed and not, under any circumstances, look in the direction of the basement. So he did. He flipped off the lights over the sink and booked it for the stairs leading up to the second floor, where he immediately got in bed with his wife and laid there, terrified. He couldn't sleep and could still very clearly hear noises on the basement steps below.

I don't know how long this entire experience lasted exactly, but I don't think it could have been more than two minutes. The noises never stopped, but they also never seemed to leave the basement. He prayed. My father-in-law was not a believer at the time by any means, but he said he didn't know what else to do, so he prayed and he eventually fell asleep. The next morning when he woke up, there was no longer any noise, and when he went downstairs, there was no longer a feeling of overwhelming dread, and there were no more noises. What he did find, however, was the family cat. It was lying in front of the open basement door, dead. Its back had been broken. They gave their lives to Jesus that day. My father-in-law believes wholeheartedly that the voice he heard in his head was an angel

and called a minister and had them come in and bless the home and they moved out of that house in Shambly about six months later. A few other things happened in those six months. My oldest sister-in-law woke up one night and couldn't move. She couldn't move and couldn't scream and though it was pitch black in her room and she couldn't see anything, she could hear plenty. The sounds of anguished screams and slicing scissors directly in her ear. This one might be sleep paralysis but combined with everything else I tend to think it might have been something more.

My mother-in-law was home by herself one evening minus two-year-old hubby who was asleep upstairs when she started smelling smoke. She panicked and ran all around the house looking for the source of the smell thinking the house might be on fire but couldn't find anything. At a loss after checking on the baby she wandered down to the kitchen for a glass of water and turned the corner, coming face to face with the glass double doors leading to the patio. There was a tall man standing there, dressed in all black, staring at her. But he wasn't standing outside the doors, he was reflected in them as though he was standing directly behind her. She screamed, he smirked, and then vanished. My two sisters-in-law were playing in the small finished portion of the basement one day when the light started flickering. They didn't think a lot of

it at first, but they were creeped out enough that they decided to go downstairs. Well, when they reached the door leading to the unfinished portion of the basement and the stairwell, the lights started flicking again and the door started shuddering in the jam. Panicked, the girls hugged each other and started singing Jesus Loves Me as loud as they could, which is something straight out of a freaking horror film, by the way, and I guess it only got worse. The lights went off altogether and the door started shaking more violently. They kept singing and eventually I guess it all just

stopped and they were able to open the door and run back upstairs. They never went down there again. Those are the only stories I've actually been told but apparently there are more. My father-in-law by the way is a total no-nonsense guy. He's an engineer that works on jetliners. He didn't believe in any of this until it happened to them. My in-laws are now all self-proclaimed born-again Christians and they don't celebrate Halloween anymore. My husband to this day refuses to get near anything even remotely spooky or creepy, though he doesn't mind that I love it. He just doesn't want to hear about it or be involved. But his belief and fear

is so genuine, I admit, it has its influences on me sometimes, and I definitely pray when I hear noises late at night. For some background, I was a 14 year old girl at the time this story took place. I'm 18 now, but this event in my life still makes my skin crawl. My father got an out of town job which caused us to move 3 hours away from our current town. Our apartment was right above a bar. I didn't mind moving much at the time because I didn't have very many friends anyway and I preferred keeping to myself or just hanging out with my twin sister. Soon my mind would change and I would begin to miss my old town.

During our move schools were out for winter break. My siblings and I were all excited to have two weeks off of school to spend in our new apartment. Almost immediately upon arrival to our new home, my sister called dibs on which room would be hers, even though we still shared the same room. As everyone begins unloading boxes in the apartment, I decide to make my way to the half-yard, half-fenced area of the bar. There was a toddler-sized playground planted in the apartment, I decided to make my way to the half-yard, half-fenced area of the bar. There was a toddler-sized playground planted in the middle, a tire swing tied to a sturdy oak tree and a very small box of sand. I concluded that they were from the last tenants. I heard laughter from behind the fence, so I did what every other child would do. I made my way to the fence and

peeked through the only visible opening. The wired fence was covered with some type of cloth. There was only a small hole in which looked like the cloth had been ripped. Upon looking through the hole, I saw men and women sitting at tables and drinking. This didn't really pique my interest, so I decided to head back in and help. I stood abruptly and turned on my heel, heading back toward the apartment. Hey. Hey, you. I stopped in my tracks, confused more than afraid.

I swiftly turned around and saw a dark brown eye staring at me through the hole. Oh, hello. I replied to the man. This was my first mistake. However, I was a polite and nice kid. I enjoyed being nice to others and almost always replied when someone spoke to me. I did keep my distance as I was cautious.

I knew this man was probably drunk and I was told about stranger danger. Hi there, sweetheart. I used to know the last little girl that lived here. I didn't have the chance to reply because the man disappeared from the hall a moment after he spoke. I was very confused now. Why did you... But I didn't get a chance because my dad was right beside us. Who are you talking to? My dad asked, glancing around. I just shook my head. I knew if I told my dad he would make a scene and not allow us to go outside in the yard. Our new apartment was just like home at the end of the second day. With all seven of us helping unpack, it left my parents

with few boxes left. Finally me, my twin sister and my three little siblings were allowed out into the yard to play. Stay in the windows view, my mom warned us as we headed out the door. She and dad didn't want us in the yard at all, paranoid about the bar next door. Still, they knew they couldn't keep five rowdy kids in a small apartment. We were all out playing for a few hours when my twin sister pointed out our neighbor. I quickly whipped my head to look as I was curious who lived below us. It was a man, a tall and stout man. He had a rather long black beard and a big beer belly. My sister and I snickered as soon as we saw him. He waddled his way towards the bar but not before he waved to me and spoke. Hey sweetheart, I was glad talking to you yesterday. I'm sorry I had to leave so soon.

Or something like that. He said something along the lines about being sorry for disappearing on me without a word yesterday. Then he walked inside the bar. My twin broke out into laughter. I just stood there, confused and creeped out. I can't believe you're friends with Santa. My three sisters mocked me. I sighed in defeat and continued building in the sand with my infant brother. Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna tell him not to get you any presents this year if you don't all just shut up. This made everyone giggle, including me. Time to come in. Bring in the baby. Girls, come inside. The twins can stay out a little longer.

I obliged to my mother's request and brought my little brother upstairs, setting him down on the living room floor. I kissed my mom's cheek and thanked her for letting me and my sister stay out longer. She nodded her head and handed me a plate of sandwiches and two mini water bottles for my sister and I to eat outside. As I made my way back down to my sister, I saw the man standing at the end of our stairs. I cocked my head to the side like a dog, confused. Still, I cautiously made my way down the stairs. Good afternoon, sir. I said as I made my way down. Towards the last stairs, the man moved over, making room for me to be able to step down.

Mmm, that looks yummy. He said. What happened next made me go rigid. He reached down and grabbed a sandwich and one of the two water bottles. Thanks, sweetheart. I stood in awe. You're welcome? I stuttered.

He practically swallowed the sandwich whole and crushed the small water bottle after drinking it, throwing the garbage right beside our outdoor garbage can. I came back to reality and turned on my heel, practically running to my sister. I sat down the snack my mother made for us and sat right beside her, looking over my shoulder to see if the man was watching me. He wasn't there, so I assumed he went back inside. In my bedroom that night, I later told my sister about what the man had done and she found it hysterical. I was fumed. How could she find something so terrifying so hilarious I thought to myself. Not long after everyone fell asleep I heard the music from the bar grow louder. I was awake now not able to sleep through the noise.

Instead I put on my shoes and jacket and headed silently out the front door. I was a stupid kid. I sat on the tire swing enjoying the crisp night air. I knew within an hour or so that they would turn the music down and I would be able to get back to bed. So I spent my time swinging back and forth. What are you doing out so late at night alone, sweetheart? I couldn't see where the voice was coming from because it was so dark, but I already known who said it. I can't sleep. Where are you?

I asked, stopping the swing and looking around in the dark. I saw his big black form emerge from the trees in front of me. He was only feet away from me now. Would you like to sleep in my bed? I bet you would fall asleep quickly there. I stopped breathing. What? I asked under my breath, confused. I want you to come over. I made cookies for you. He inched himself closer and that's when my fight or flight instincts came in. I chose flight. I inched my body off of

the swing and took the left heading straight for the stairs. I knew if I stayed behind every tree until I reached the stairs he wouldn't be able to get me. Luckily I was right. I ran up the stairs taking two at a time. When I reached the top I grabbed for the doorknob, quickly turning it. But before I stepped inside, I looked downstairs. The man was standing there. He had a pair of scissors in his hand. I screamed in terror for my parents to wake up. I slammed the door shut and locked it behind me. As soon as I turned around, my father was by my side.

What's wrong? Why were you out so late? He was yelling questions at me and all I could do was cry. I was falling apart, terrified for my safety. The neighbor told me to come over and I... But the look on my parents' face made me stop talking. They were pale white looking at one another. What? I asked, practically screaming. We... we don't have any neighbors. The landlord said the apartment downstairs had been vacant for almost four years. My parents called the police right away. The police showed up within ten minutes and my mother ordered for all of us kids to stay inside. Eventually I talked to one of the officers about everything and they tried hard to comfort me and make me feel safe. A few days later my mother told

my sister and I the truth about the guy. Apparently he had broken into the apartment and had been squatting down there for what looked like over a few months. All he had was a twin-size mattress and clean brand new children's clothing. At the time, I was serving in the military overseas in Yokosuka, Japan from 2012 to 2014. Since my time there, I was settled and been there for about two years and seeing a very lonely girl named May. May had told me that she was pregnant with my child while I was on my deployment. I took responsibility for my actions, so we started to plan. During the second year of my service during the winter, six months since May gave me the news.

My ship had been in dry dock for a year and each ship depending on how large the ship's crew is. The ship had a handful of duty selections, a group of crew members who watched the ship and took care of it while the rest of the crew was off. So my section was on duty that night. During our evening meal, one of the shipmates asked me if I could switch watches with him being that my current watch was standing in the freezing cold for five hours. He thought giving me his barracks watch would lift my spirits up. It did. I took the proposal in a heartbeat. We both let our section leader know of the change. At 2345 I was on my way to the barracks to watch the barracks from midnight to about 6am. The barracks watch was there for

safety and to see that the right people were in their respective rooms. I arrived right on time with 5 minutes to spare. I bought myself and the person I was relieving a coffee, thought it might help them on the cold walk home. As the night progresses, I made my rounds every half hour and when the wee hours of the morning came around, I started to doze off. I was awoken by a resident who couldn't sleep due to their neighbor's crying. If you get that girl in the room to keep quiet, I won't tell the supervisor that you were sleeping. He muttered, as if I didn't have a choice. The barracks was three floors high, full of people, but at this hour, the silence had a certain eeriness to it. Like you could hear your own heartbeat, my footsteps echoed like as if I was in some sort of catacomb.

As I made my way upstairs, I began to hear sobbing. I shook my head in disappointment. This should be fun, I said to myself. I reached the third floor and made my way down the hallway. The sobbing sounded like it was coming from the laundry room. Maybe the poor girl didn't want to wake her roommates, I thought to myself. As I made my way into the laundry room the sobbing was low like she tried to hide it. I stepped forward. Miss, are you okay? I whispered. I turned the light on. I saw a young girl sitting on the floor facing the wall leaning on the washing machine. I asked again. Miss, are you alright?

I put some strain on it so she hears me pass the sobbing. I still waited for a response, but still got nothing. It was late, I was tired and getting impatient. I got closer to her. Hey, lady, are you alright? I think you should call it a night. I yelled as I walked closer. Just as I did, the girl sprung up quickly.

She looked sick, dark eyes, greasy hair. She didn't look happy like I ruined her crying game. Before I could open my mouth, she let out an ear-shattering scream and it just kept climbing in pitch. I get closer to shut her up but the noise was too much and I actually collapsed. The last thing I remember was the sickly girl with her menacing face staring straight and screaming directly at me. All of the sudden I woke up in the office where I watched the cameras. I would write this off as a bad dream from eating galley food, but it felt different. It felt cold. I never left the office for the rest of my watch.

A week later, I got news from May. She told me that there were some complications with the baby and she had a miscarriage. I couldn't help that young girl in the night terror and I can't help but wonder if the miscarriage could be linked. I'm back stateside now and the experience has left a major impression on me. These events occurred over the course of years back when I was in second grade. I am now in my final years of schooling, but I will never forget this part of my life.

When my mom and dad split, my two siblings and I, along with my mom, moved in with one of her old friends from high school. His name was Stan. Stan was a pretty wealthy guy, so he rented the five of us a huge two-story house in the suburbs of Chicago. Anyone familiar with Chicago land area will know that houses can be very expensive, so you are forced to settle for much less than you would in other areas. This is an important detail because otherwise we probably wouldn't have moved into that house. It was built in the early 1800s on a corner plot next to a popular public park. The house didn't have any

central air conditioning or heating. We would keep ourselves cool in the summer and warm in the winter using a variety of space heaters and air conditioning units. I can trace back the strange events to around the first few days of living there. The downstairs of the house was always really hot. The floors were strangely a type of glazed brick. Now understandably, the floor would be colder than the rest of the house because there was a deep concrete basement below it. But the temperature was insane. If you dropped an ice cube in the areas where the basement was directly below, it would take upwards of 30 minutes to melt. I know you're thinking that cold floors are normal,

but it is hard to put the true magnitude of that issue into words. It was unnatural. Extreme cold is often associated with spirits. The only reason why I'm mentioning this is because it leads into the next part of the story, the basement. I remember being terrified to be down there, even in the presence of another person. I would usually hang out in the basement with my mom when she was doing laundry. She wouldn't stay down there alone. I later learned why. Within the first few weeks of living there, she had to switch a load of clothes when my siblings and I were at school and Stan was at work. There were two ways to enter the basement.

The outdoor staircase from the sunroom or the one that connected from the mudroom. She decided to use the latter. When she opened the door, she was greeted with chilling coldness despite the 90 degree heat from outside. Against her inner compass, she reluctantly descended anyway. About halfway down something shoved her from behind and she went tumbling down the rest of the steep staircase. My mom had three back surgeries. This fall almost paralyzed her.

She was positive she was pushed by an intruder or something because she distinctly felt two hands on her shoulders. When she looked up, the door was closed behind her and no one was inside. She didn't get too hurt from the fall and managed to finish the laundry, taking the stairs from the sunroom back inside the house. From that day forward, she kept the door to those stairs locked and she hid the old skeleton key in her bedroom, deterring any of us kids from using them. The only other real issue with the basement was how dark it was. Despite being covered in skylights, it was always too dark to really see in front of you. There were new corners of that space that I found daily while trying to bravely explore. None of the installed lights were

illuminated enough to really see what was inside. I would always see moving shadows in the corner of my eye while looking around. Additionally, there would be dead mice down there every day. We had three dogs, so we never put down any type of rat poison in fear that they would eat it. These mice would just be laying dead every day with no indication of what killed them. I don't know if this was connected, but it was always terrifying being a young animal lover. The second story was terrible, literally. My sister and I shared a room and my brother lived across the hallway. We had a playroom and a bathroom between our rooms. I could never be upstairs alone. I would

constantly get yelled at because I would refuse to do chores that involved me being alone on the highest level. This is mostly because I would wake up every night at 3am. I could never pinpoint why though. That changed when we brought a new dog into that family. She was a sweet pit bull named Nikita. Nikita hated the upstairs. Even with being a crackhead of a puppy, she refused to be upstairs without one of us being with her. However, after she grew into an adult dog, I would wake up at 3am and she would be sleeping on my chest, sometimes awake growling at the corner of my room. That's the first time I noticed how dark the corner of the room was. I remember noticing the

shadow of a man in the corner as well. My mind first swarmed to intruder but after staring at the corner of that room until sunrise, getting no sleep, the shadow just disappeared into nothing. I don't remember every detail from this time in my life because I was going through a very traumatic thing for a child. My father was in the process of undergoing treatment for cancer. He unfortunately passed away a year after diagnosis. All of the negative energy in my life I feel is what fueled these spirits. The final event I recalled were strange words popping

through the paint in my wall. When I came home from school, they were gone and the smell of fresh paint filled my room. The words weren't paranormal and I had to spend the rest of my years living there without an explanation. Years later when I was finally old enough to understand what truly went on in that house, my mom explained everything to me. Our next door neighbors were an old couple. The Johnsons.

Mrs. Johnson was a substitute teacher within my school district so we knew the family well. On the day we moved out she pulled my mother aside and explained why the rent at the house was so cheap. In the late 90s a family lived in that house. A husband, a wife, and their daughter. The wife suffered from diabetes. Her husband often refused to take care of her. Apparently he wouldn't allow her to take her insulin. This caused her to become very sick and she eventually passed away in the house. After her passing, the daughter became very depressed. Her father was known to abuse her. It is unknown if it was just physical but Mrs. Johnson suspected it to be even worse as well.

The Johnsons went away on vacation one summer and when they came back the house was for sale. After speaking with a friend who was a police officer she learned the husband was arrested. The officer didn't disclose many details to Mrs. Johnson as he would lose his job. However, he hinted that the daughter passed away unfortunately. I don't know if it was murder or something else, but based on the heavy emotional energy of that house, I honestly believe it to be the worst. One final detail, and perhaps the biggest one, were the previous tenants, who lived there only a few months before us. They were avid occultists.

Nothing inherently wrong with that, I suppose, but they carved satanic symbols into the walls. They destroyed a fireplace in the basement by burning an animal carcass. They did animal sacrifices in the back playroom and drew more symbols into the walls with the blood. The painter who came over to cover the words up coming through my wall showed my mom pictures of what the place looked like before we moved in. My mother refuses to talk about what she saw. Years later I looked into the history of the home. I was able to discover a few old newspapers with very little information on what actually happened, only a brief obituary for the wife whose name I unfortunately cannot remember. The town that this happened in went to great lengths to

cover up the story. This town is known for high property prices and for being one of the safest around. I don't feel comfortable disclosing what town it is but it is known for its lilacs. The capital of lilacs in the US. You'll be able to figure out which village I'm talking about with this information. I've since moved away from this village and I'm happier now. That house really messed me up. I hope that husband is rotting in prison or at least living with the guilt of what he did to those poor women. Always make sure to check the history of the house before moving in. I used to work at a department store as a cashier and guest service person. I loved this job so it was easy for me to be bubbly and happy to customers, making small chit-chat with them. A couple months into this job

I met this customer named Joe. Now Joe was maybe in his mid-30s and I at the time was 20. I met him, normal hi how are you, just ringing up his things. He quickly out of nowhere brought up the fact that he thinks I'm very beautiful. I've always been a girl who doesn't know how to take compliments and so I just awkwardly laughed and kept bringing up his things. The rest of that week I saw him every day and he made it a point on coming into my line even if there was a shorter line. It started being weird to me but I was thinking maybe it was just me and I was overreacting. About a month goes by of him checking out and only my line, saying weird things and leaving. He followed me out to my car once. He waited in the food court until I was off of work and just so happened to be parked right next to my car. He had been there for hours waiting

for me to get off of work. I finally reached my creepy limit when he handed me a poem he wrote. This was not a poem. It was a diary page saying how he really likes women, and the way that they look in skirts, and how he thought I should wear them. No, okay, I tried to be nice, but this was like way too creepy for me at this point. I gave it to HR and told her he's been very weird to me and I'm freaked out. I don't want to see him anymore. She agreed that it was creepy and brought it to the security guard and told him that whenever he's in the store, he is to stay away from me.

A month or two went by, dealing with register changes if he were to be in my line. Joe finally figured this out one day. He rushed my line, screaming, saying how I never get to check him out anymore and that he just wants everybody to know I'm the best one there. Freaked out, my manager came and took me off the register and I went to the break room and proceeded to cry. I know, it doesn't sound that scary but I honestly was in so much shock I just wanted it to be over. After that they finally told him he was no longer to treat me like that and if he were there they were going to trespass him and eventually they actually did end up pressing charges.

I honestly thought this guy was going to kidnap me and take me home. Thank god it never escalated to that point. My name is Leslie. It's my last year in high school and I have trouble sleeping at night. I usually get three hours of sleep every day. When I stay up late I normally like to watch my favorite TV show It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. So this happened on a Friday morning at 2 30 a.m. still watching It's Always Sunny. I started to get tired so I decided after this episode is done I would go to sleep. Once it ended I turned off the TV and went to bed. As I was sleeping I noticed I was slowly starting to wake up but my body was feeling as if

though it was vibrating and hearing a big buzzing noise. Once I got to open my eyes I couldn't feel my body move nor could I speak but move my eyes only. I looked to my left corner and what I saw next made me feel terrified. A shadow standing there looking at me. Maybe you guys are familiar with the movie VHS2. If so do you recall the alien abduction scene and remember how those aliens look like? Well that's how it looked but long and black with long fingers and long legs getting closer to me. I tried screaming but instead I was humming but my humming was slowly fading away. At this point I forced my body to move but it still wouldn't move. It felt as if though my soul was being trapped inside.

When my toes started to move I woke up letting out a big gasp. I didn't know what was going on. I thought I had seen the devil in my room. I go to my phone and see what time going on. I thought I had seen the devil in my room. I go to my phone and see what time it was. It was 4.15am so I decided not to sleep because I had school that morning. I went to school super tired with bags under my eyes and my hair all messy. I didn't even bother showering and went to school with my pajamas. I was so traumatized by what I saw. I kid you not I spent days not sleeping because I was too afraid that it would happen again. I would drink Monster, coffee and Red Bull to keep

me awake. A week and a half passed by and I did some research on what happened to me and I later found out it was called sleep paralysis. Maybe about 30% of the people who had sleep paralysis had the same experience as I did. I haven't had any of that happen to me anymore, but I hope to God it doesn't. My mom had an ongoing, on-again, off-again friendship with our neighbor from downstairs, who we're going to call Martha, and during this period of time they were off. I was chilling watching TV while looking in the kitchen to see if my cat was there. Now the layout of our house is pretty easy. From the living room you can see all the way to the balcony that was connected to our kitchen.

Like I was saying, I was looking for my cat when I saw a quick dark shadow move from outside the balcony. I didn't know what to do so I ran to my mom who was on the computer and told her what I saw. She believed me because due to renovations in Martha's yard there was a shed built where you can easily climb up on. We were scared so we turned off all the lights. After both checking the balcony my mom called my stepdad who was 30 minutes away. After that phone call thing went wrong we heard a car pull up and loud talking. I peeked outside and saw some creepy men talking to Martha. Through the years it was clear to us Martha didn't have the best of friends. I saw one of the men looking up and he saw me. He went back to his car to get something and gave it to Martha. First I thought it was a gun but I wasn't sure so I kept my mouth

shut. They were also standing around our car looking into it and then back at the house. After 10 minutes of the men being at Martha's house I again saw someone on the balcony, only this time I saw it very clear. There was a man standing on the balcony with an object in his left hand. It felt like he was there for hours but it was only seconds, god knows how many though. I yelled for my mom to come and that's when he bolted. After five minutes the men drove away and not even twenty seconds later our doorbell rings. My mom walks to the window to look and see who it is, but we both see no one.

Another ring of the bell and my mom gets in her screw this mentality and goes downstairs to open the door. And Martha grabs my mom's neck as soon as she opens the door. Panic and adrenaline is going through my body and as soon as I fully comprehend the situation I start bolting to the kitchen looking for something to defend me and my mother with. My idiot self grab a frying pan and head downstairs. I was a 15 year old skinny small girl but I was ready to beat Martha if need be. I ran downstairs frying pan in my hand and start swinging at her. Of course no luck because let's be real a 15 year old against a 40 year old woman who was probs coked up. No way. My mom has already called the police so after 20 seconds of me swinging with a frying pan,

thankfully they showed up and she was arrested. After a house search, they found weapons and drugs and had more evidence to hold her in custody. Later on we found out that she had stabbed all four wheels of our car. After that experience, we moved and never saw one of those people from that night ever again. We went on a field trip to the zoo. I can't quite remember what grade but I believe it was in grade 7. This trip is something that only our school went to, since all the other schools went to an amusement park, but only the 7th graders. Now my best bud, I'll call him JJ for the purposes of this story, he was and still is my best friend.

He was a decent sized guy for grade 7, maybe 5'8", 120 pounds and decently buff since he played football a lot. I was a decent sized girl about 5'3", 90 pounds and not at all that buff. Now that I think about it I was sort of scrawny but I'm a tomboy and played elite level hockey so I make male friends better than I do female friends. In this case it may have saved my life. The whole class gathered at school at 8am to get on the bus. It was a two hour drive to the zoo since I live in a small town. It was a regular drive. I sat with JJ even though he was a fairly popular guy. When we got to the zoo, we all stood in line while the teachers counted us and we were told to stay in group while we walked around the zoo. It was me, JJ and this

other kid I was good friends with named Tyler. We were walking around for a bit then Tyler decided to ditch us to go hang out with his girlfriend that likely lasted for two weeks. At this point it was just me and JJ. He seemed to be a very timid and paranoid person so I always felt a little bit safer with JJ around. It was just an ordinary field trip until we stopped to eat. We both brought a bit of money to go get some food so we both went to get our own lunch and then we would meet up to eat. I went to get fries while he went elsewhere. I sat down at a table waiting for him to meet me. Two minutes later he sat down next to me. It was all fun and games until I spotted a man looking at me. I didn't look at him necessarily, I just saw him in my peripheral vision. He was

maybe a man in his 40s wearing a black zip-up sweater which confused me because it was pretty hot outside. He had a long white beard but was bald. He was wearing sunglasses but not very good ones because I could see his eyes through it. He was wearing dark blue jeans and sand bald. He was wearing sunglasses but not very good ones because I could see his eyes through it. He was wearing dark blue jeans and sandals. He looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. I whispered to JJ and told him. I also told him not to look back at him. I could feel his eyes burning a hole through my face as if he didn't care if I saw him. It felt like he didn't look away for our entire lunch break. Then I said to JJ, come on, let's go walk around for a bit. He agreed and we got up from our seats.

But as we stood up, I could see the man get up as well. We started to walk around and we stopped at the panda exhibit. As I was looking around, I saw the same man still staring at us. That set off some red flags and I told JJ about it and I could tell he was starting to get angry at this man. At this point we kept walking to see if the man would follow us and sure enough he did. At this point I did something I regret. I accidentally looked the man in the eyes and he stared right back at me dead in the eyes and I couldn't move. Then JJ saw what was happening, and he pulled me back and stepped in front of me. This man is at least 10 meters away, but

as soon as JJ stepped in front of me, he stopped staring and walked away as if nothing had happened. I felt a little bit safer, but next thing you know, 10 minutes later, I see the same man staring at me again. I don't tell JJ this time but instead try to ignore it. JJ told me he had to go to the washroom and to wait outside. I agreed, even though I was creeped out. As I was waiting, I feel something grasp me on my wrists and as I look, I see what it was and realize and fear that it was the same man that had been stalking us this entire trip. I felt my heart skip a beat as I get this urgent feeling to do something. I wanted to run,

to push, to kick, but my body didn't do anything. He starts pulling at my arm and says in a deep raspy voice, come on sweetie, it's time to go home. The scared 12-year-old I was stood there in fear, not moving despite his words. Then he said in a whispering voice right in my ear, If you don't come with me, I'll drag you out of here and do anything I want to you. I started to breathe heavily now, but I still didn't move out of shock as this man picked me up and he started to walk away with me in his arms. But I heard a voice yelling loudly behind him as I realized it was JJ's voice getting closer and closer until I felt the man fall over with force.

He had let go while he was falling and I stand up in shock to see JJ on top of the man pushing his head into the cement again and again. The man threw JJ into a pole and he ran off. I could see the man was bleeding a lot from the blood on the cement. I hugged JJ, still in shock from what had just happened as security talked to us and the police eventually showed up. They never ended up catching the guy, but I am forever grateful for my best friend JJ and I will always trust my instincts. Let's call my hometown B and the town just next to it S. Between the two there is my former high

school and behind the building there is a forest. I've never been, hopefully incited, but teachers from the high school prevented us from entering it. I know that some homeless people live in it and sketchy people. I don't mind it as long as I don't have to enter this scary forest. You see, there are two wild animals in it, and from the outside, you can hear some noises without seeing where they're from. One night I was at a friend's place in the town S next to mine. We were alone and had fun for most of the evening. Around 12am came time for me to go home. My friend offered me to stay but I haven't done sleepovers for years and I didn't have my stuff to stay so I decided maybe I could go back home. It was pitch black out. I called my mother to know if my father could come take me but I guess he was already in bed and

my mother hadn't driven for decades so it was complicated to ask her for the ride. I told her I was going to take the bus to come back since a bus passes in front of my friend's house. Unfortunately, it was too late and the buses stopped circulating way before midnight. I left my friend's house and decided to walk back home. After all, I know the way by heart and the path to my home is very short. Wrong idea. To give more details, it was summer so I was wearing a pair of very short shorts and of course I was alone. I started my walk quite on the edge because of the silence. Usually when I walk alone I like to listen to music but I just couldn't this night.

I was surrounded by huge houses so if something had happened I would just scream for help but this was not enough to reassure me. It became way worse later on when I had to pass by my high school and the creepy forest. To hide my face and my revealing clothes I opened up my umbrella but it wasn't much better. I walked as fast and quiet as I could which is not very easy when you are stressed and as scared as I was. A lonely girl walking alone and in very revealing clothes. Worst combination ever. I'm not a pretty girl but I know that insane people don't care about that. So during my long walk I started hearing noises coming from the forest.

I was quite far from it but the emptiness of the street made it feel closer to me. Suddenly I saw a group of teenagers coming out of the forest speaking very loudly as if they were being chased by someone. They were laughing and jumping all around the place as if it was normal and it made me even more disturbed. I walked faster and faster. As they got closer, they hadn't noticed me. I heard one of them in their excitement yell out, Do you think he's dead? Another one responded, Who cares, man? Those drug addict hobos don't matter to anyone.

You freaking whopped him, bro. Another one cheered as I took an opportunity to close my umbrella, slow my pace, and hid behind a tree. My heart raced as the boy's words became distant rambles while I waited behind the tree for nearly ten minutes. Were they serious? What did they just do? I didn't waste any further time as I dropped my umbrella and sprinted the entire way home. I never felt more safe in the comfort of my own bed. The next day I ended up asking my parents if there was any big news broadcasted about our town, to which they responded no. I was both shocked and thankful and pondered to myself if things like that are normal amidst the

homeless population and go completely unreported. I come from a chaotic upbringing. I was born and raised as a child in South Korea. I later moved to Australia with my mother having lost my father in a homicide. The next few years of my life in Australia were difficult. Meeting and making friends was difficult in the early 90s, particularly since I was quite nerdy and didn't speak much English, something most Australian kids at the time did not relate well to. One of my scariest memories from when I was age 12 at the time, it did not even occur to me just how close I came to potentially losing my life. My mother and I were on a road trip heading south from Melbourne to stay on the southern

coast. We had stopped one evening at a small, well-kept caravan park. The caravan park was quaint and beautiful. Neat grass, nice flowers, frangipanis blooming, and a small creek which ran along the edge of the premises. It reminded me of home. I spent some time walking around on my own as my mother was taking a nap. I discovered a game and pool room. own as my mother was taking a nap. I discovered a game and pool room. I went inside and spent probably a good few hours playing pool by myself and generally just mucking around when a young boy came in. I was very shy and so was he but we eventually talked for a little while and became friendly.

I don't remember playing any games with him but I do recall him being pretty nervous. He kept asking me if I wanted to go back to his caravan as his parents were making dinner soon. At first I wasn't interested and said no. We spent some more time doing things and talking as it got later. He became more pushy and asked if I liked cake and lollies. Of course I said, that much I do remember clearly. I followed him to his caravan, which was much older than ours and quite dilapidated. He asked me to wait outside while he talked to his parents. I waited patiently for a few minutes

until the door opened and a larger, older man with glasses and no shirt opened the door and asked if I would like to come inside for cake. I was scared, but I remember feeling like I had to, like it would be rude of me to leave. As I was walking the door, I heard a man behind me shout, Hey, what's going on here? I was quickly grabbed from the collar of my dress and pulled inside. The man then quickly tried to lock the door behind me. However, the stranger was too quick and burst in the door. He took my hand abruptly and pulled me outside and we frantically ran away. The man asked which unit, room and caravan I was in and took me straight there. We went inside and my mom yelled at him and asked why he was there. I was hiding in the corner

crying while he explained what happened. We packed back up that night and left immediately. I was already heavily on anxiety medication after what happened back home and we never spoke about it alone again. My mother claimed it was something I should talk to my therapist about and every time we all spoke about it my mother would leave the room. It scared her, and I didn't really understand why. I guess at that age, it's difficult for the brain to comprehend the potential reality of the situation. Looking back on it now, it utterly scares me to the point of losing sleep. This was about ten years ago, but I remember it clearly. At the time I was working swing shifts, so I would get off of work downtown at 12am and had to wait 30 minutes for a bus,

which took an additional 30 minutes to get to the stop closest to my house, which was a little under a mile away. I rode this bus every night and it was usually fairly empty aside from myself and a few other people getting off retail jobs who I'd see pretty often. This happened during the holidays so stores were open super late and the closing employees rode my bus but I was at the last stop on the line and I was usually the last person on the bus. This night the same people as always got on the bus and got off at their regular stops. The second to last stop I noticed that another guy was still on the bus, another guy I had never seen before and I saw that he was watching me. I was 18 years old at the time dressed in sort of junky clothes. I worked at a homeless shelter so never dressed up nice or anything,

but still occasionally drew the attention of creeps on the bus because I was a girl alone late at night. Whatever, I thought to myself. I'd usually just tell creepy guys to buzz off and at the very worst, they'd say something terrible to me and that was the end of it. By 18, I'd dealt with it plenty of times so I wasn't particularly upset by this. But this creepy guy was sort of different. He was an overweight middle eastern guy dressed in a knit sweater, slacks and wire-framed glasses. Didn't say a word the entire time we were on the bus, just stared, never breaking his gaze, just transfixed on me. Finally we got to my stop, the last stop and he was still sitting in the back

of the bus watching me as I got off. I thanked the bus driver, got off and realized that the dude was still on the bus. I started walking up the hill to my house like I always do and I noticed that the bus was still sitting at the stop instead of pulling out and putting on its to terminal sign like it normally did. Weird sure but I kept walking. I had made it about 500 feet, heard the bus pull out and drive off and then I heard someone running up behind me. Without even looking back I knew it was the guy from the bus. He was 50 feet behind me at this point so I could hear him heaving to catch his breath and he yelled out, Princess, please wait. And of course I didn't wait, I just kept going.

But he didn't stop and kept yelling, Please, please, princess, I want to make love to you, I have money, please, I will pay you. I didn't stop walking. I didn't want to make eye contact or acknowledge him but I am also walking down a dark street with no cars and no people and he is hot on my tail but can't keep up with me and seems pretty winded. By the time I made it down the block, he was yelling at the top of his lungs, princess, princess, absolutely wailing, all the while yelling that he wanted to make love to me and would pay me for it and calling me princess. He wouldn't stop sobbing, and he was so loud I'm surprised he didn't wake anyone in the neighborhood up. At this point he's still 50 feet behind me and crying. I was five blocks from

my house and did not want to let the guy know where I lived so I decided to call 911. He kept loudly crying and sobbing and pleading with me. I let the dispatcher know that some guy was following me and propositioning me and crying and she could hear him sobbing in the background and said a deputy would be there soon I live in a really skinny strip in an unincorporated part of the county between two cities with their own police departments so the response times weren't bad and I yelled at the guy I just called the cops so leave me alone and he just stopped standing there sobbing. I keep walking but slowly since I'm so close to my house. A couple minutes pass and there's lights. A sheriff was coming down the street and when I turned around the crying guy was nowhere to be found. The officer asked if I wanted to go look for him

or if I just wanted to ride home. I didn't ever want to deal with that guy again so I accepted the ride and asked him to just check out the area around my house after he dropped me off. Since it's pretty unusual to see an overweight middle eastern guy in a sweater and slacks wandering around crying at 1 30 a.m on a weeknight in a residential area. I have no idea if they found him. No idea what would happen if they did find him, since I'm not sure if anything he did was actually illegal, just incredibly creepy. Needless to say, I deadbolted my house and stayed up all night talking to a lot as a kid. For a small chunk of my life, I lived in what, at the time, was considered the most dangerous neighborhood in New York City, in the projects. My family wasn't doing very well financially, and I distinctly remember our apartment being swarmed with cockroaches. We just had a mattress or two on the floor. Now I don't know if I've just been

surrounded by irresponsible adults for most of my life or if the folks around me were just spread too thin but I got into a lot of iffy situations. I know in the case of my parents it was blatant negligence. I'm talking my bus to school was a van with the letters BUS keyed onto it. Every morning I'd get in there with three other kids. The driver was some rando and there were always empty beer bottles clinking around on the floor. It's wild. Wild to think about.

Besides the point, but since I moved around a lot I often ended up making friends with the kids from my apartment building rather than my school. I spent my free time in silly ways. I'd feed pigeons off the balcony, fed them so much they'd just fly back there in the adjacent balconies, chill in the morning waiting for me. Bird poo would just rain down below, angering all of the other residents in the building. I also would host paper bag puppet shows and invite all all of the other residents in the building. I also would host paper bag puppet shows and invite all the kids to watch them on the staircase. That was a

bit of a nuisance, just way too much energy for my size. From holding these events, I ended up meeting a lot of parents. So one night as I'm wrapping up one of my spectacular puppet shows, a lady who lived on the top floor of the building approaches me. She asks me if I could babysit her kid on that Friday night. I'm nine years old at the time, by the way. Her child, Emily, is five. I'm not sure why this woman asked me because I was clearly very ostentatiously being a child. I say yes because, well, why not?

I mention this to my mother for permission who naturally agrees. The idea is that since we live on the bottom floor, there's little to go wrong. I should also mention that I have an older brother. He was 14 at the time. So Friday rolls around, I'm over at this lady's place with Emily. Her parents have just left 30 minutes prior. We're running around tearing the apartment up. I still have way too much energy. A knock at the door. I run over to the door. I should

have checked the peephole but I'm honestly too short. At this point in my life no one has told me to never open the door for a stranger so I open it. On the other side stands a man. He's very tall, has a mustache, looks like he's in his 40s. I ask him what he wants. He says that he's a friend of Sam's, Emily's father and that he was coming by to say hi. I tell him Sam isn't around. Dumb I know. He tells me that it's not a problem that Sam had told him he's coming home soon and to wait right here. He pushes past me, strolls over to the couch like he's right at home and sits. Someone should be watching you kids in the meantime anyway, right? The guy was friendly and so self-assured, I was confused. I didn't know Emily's family too well

and I didn't know who they were good friends with. I knew nothing. Maybe this guy came over here all the time. Emily didn't seem to have any strong reactions so I just figured everything was okay. Maybe Sam really was coming home. Perhaps they forgot something or there was something important to talk to this guy about. This guy knew his name after all. So we're all sitting on the couch and he's talking to us about his favorites, his favorite color, his favorite food, whatever. It's been about 20 minutes, no Sam. This guy is getting increasingly physically comfortable with Emily. At one point she was trying to dodge him putting his arm around her. Something about the situation wasn't sitting right

and I could tell that she actually probably didn't really know him. Something was hanging in the air. Something was scaring that little girl. So, well, what do I do? There was no way to check his story. Emily's parents didn't leave me any way to contact them. I still brush it off since the situation still seems completely normal in my innocuous eyes. We're all just talking.

Nothing's going wrong, technically. We even start playing tag. But then I begin to notice that whenever I'd walk towards the entrance area, he'd somehow intercept me in a friendly way. He'd glide me in the other direction or call me over for a high five. He'd even let himself get tagged. As friendly and fearless as I swore I was, something was scaring me too. So I trusted that. Another 20 minutes, no Sam.

I was getting panicked, but I knew my parents weren't home, only my brother. Thankfully, I remembered that this family had a phone. I had seen it as I was twirling around with Emily earlier. Now my brother is fiercely protective of me, still is, always had been since day one. After I was born there was none of that sibling attention jealousy stuff. He started crying day two because he thought I had an eye infection. So well I pretend I'm tired of tag. They sit down and I start singing, skipping around. Who knows, I'm trying to make a big show about how nothing is going on. I was big into acting at the time, wanted to be an actress, borderline obsessed with the idea. I'd act out fake scenes at home

all the time by myself with others like a weirdo for years. Hence the puppet shows. But well, I was good at hiding emotion, good at playing roles. So I'm singing. Role of a lifetime here. I need to figure out how to talk to my brother fast while I sing without my voice shaking. This man says some creepy thing about how I have such a sweet voice. I didn't think it was creepy at the time but now it gives me the heebie-jeebies. And as he reaches over to grab something that's dropped on the floor I notice he has a pocket knife or a box cutter, something sharp. Voice shakes, my heart skips. I try not to make eye contact. Luckily he doesn't realize I think. I say something along the lines of, oh no, I forgot to feed my hamster. I spin, literally spin over to the phone,

which I'm sure this guy never noticed was sitting behind a plant. I didn't have a hamster. Let me just call my brother, he'll feed her. I holler, boom chicka wow wow, before the man can say or do anything, like I can't hear him, I dial my brother as fast as I can. The man is on edge now, noticing the phone but also recognizing I've just dialed someone. It's like the top half of his face is glaring at me but the bottom is kind of fake smiling, apprehensive. My brother picks up. He's annoyed as brothers always are. He thinks I'm just playing upstairs, supervised. He knows where I am, but my mother neglected to tell him the babysitting situation. Hello? I forgot to feed Skippy. What? What do you want?

I forgot to feed Skippy. Can you feed her for me? Are you trying to prank me? Is this a prank call? Seriously? Can you hear me? Seriously, she'll get sick. Cut it out. No, can you hear me now? I use my nickname for him.

I forgot to feed Skippy. Can you feed her for me? At this point he realizes I wouldn't be using his name if I really were prank calling him. The man is now holding Emily, throwing her up and down in the air. I'm losing it every time he throws her up. She's visibly not having a good time. She starts crying. He's trying to calm her.

It's chaos. The scene is breaking down. Fast. Too fast. What are you talking about? Is everything okay? No, you have to do it now. She gets hungry. Just play later. Stomp stomp. Is someone there? Yes, the green baggie. Oh, oh, oh. Stay calm calm i'm coming hangs up i believe there were 12 floors the kid flies up so fast no idea how starts knocking on the door before the guy can get in my way i sprint over and open it

my brother being the smart cookie he is tries to keep the situation calm seems he's called the cops by now he swings the door open, says something along the lines of, man it smells in here, and props it there with a box nearby. I realized later he was trying to keep the door open for the cops, for us to run given the chance, and or for the neighbors to hear in case something happened. My brother introduces himself as well, says he got bored downstairs, knew we were up here, wanted to watch a movie, and heard this apartment had a TV. The guy starts trying to fake introduce himself as he puts down Emily, then just bolts. We don't

follow. The cops show up eventually. They don't do much, presumably because the guy was gone and there were other violent crimes happening in the neighborhood. Emily's parents show up and after the waterworks they thank my brother. After giving the man's description to Sam, he still didn't know who we were talking about. Regardless, we all end up okay and life went on. Still, I had no idea what that man wanted from us. I don't know if he was trying to rob Emily's parents or had something more sinister in mind. He seemed to know that no adults were going to be home so that he might have been on the staircase that night Emily's mother asked me to watch her and he just sat and played with us for so long. Every time I think about this night I

feel that panic all over again. I'm happy to say that most of the people in this country go their entire lives without encountering some of the monsters that exist in this otherwise beautiful place. Unfortunately, I have not been so fortunate. Before I start, I would like to bore you with some backstory. I have been working as an IT systems administrator for a few years now and have met many people who I occasionally moonlight as a repair woman for. Over the years friends have told me that they occasionally get messages and phone calls from strangers asking for basic computer repairs for cheaper than they could otherwise find locally.

For years now I have been overly cautious of people, places, and objects that don't feel right. I have learned to always trust my gut instinct and to err on the side of caution. This story however is the one and only time that I ignored that instinct. Around four years ago I was contacted over text message by a local man. He was direct and straight to the point. The conversation was pretty basic. He asked me if I could look at his computer as he heard about me from a friend. I said yes and explained the issue he was having. PC had suddenly stopped booting. Occasionally he could manage to get it running but it would operate incredibly slowly and crash quickly. I told the man that I would need to inspect the PC myself. However, it sounded like

a textbook hard drive failure. I asked the unknown man to call me to discuss an option and where he would bring the PC for me to look at it. His response was, no phone calls, where can I drop it off and when? I need the things off it as soon as possible. This seems sketchy to me at first. Most people like to talk over the phone about the issues they are having and try and sort them remotely and at the very least know how much it's going to cost. I eventually brushed it off thinking maybe he was just well off and was looking for a fast turnaround which he knows only a hobbyist would be able to achieve in this area. I discussed a time where he could drop the PC off at my work and asked what

time he would like to drop the PC off. He didn't reply. The next morning at the door of my work there was a PC on the ground with a post-it note crudely marked with my name in black felt tip marker. My boss was not super impressed as our business has quite strict security and members of the public are not usually allowed onto the premises after hours. I was ultimately very confused however. I never got a reply from this man and as far as I knew he had done a runner. By now I am convinced this guy has some sort of social anxiety. I've refused to talk on the phone and deliberately dropped the PC off without a word of warning

before our business. Not a client basedbased business, this is an office block. He even opened its doors to its workers. Again, alarm bells are kind of ringing at this stage, however there was no reason for me to really worry. It's not as if though he seemed on edge or dangerous, not that I could really tell in the few text messages we had sent each other. I proceeded as planned, ran diagnostic tools, confirmed it was a dead drive, removed the drive, replaced it with a repurposed one, reinstalled the operating system, and proceeded to start the recovery process. For those of you not informed on the process, here's the basic rundown. Pull the old hard drive, plug it into a working PC either directly or with a dock, create a virtual clone of the drive, and then perform the recovery

using specialized software on the clone. Not the actual hard drive as it may fail during the process. I did this with good results and managed to recover pretty much everything. I copied all of his files over to his new drive, reinstalled the applications I could see he had and sent the computer on its merry way. Later that day I sent the man a message stating that his computer was fixed and he could come pick it up sometime during business hours. He responds a few hours later saying that he was not going to be available until after work. Okay, I thought, that's fair enough, he's probably working too. At first, the man asked if he could meet me at my house after work the following day, which by this stage was definitely too weird. I obviously declined and insisted on

meeting him at the local post office at around 6pm. By this stage, I was kind of getting pretty bad heebie-jeebies. I decided to have a friend come with me just in case things got weird. I have a male friend at work who was happy to come with me. We arrive at the post office a little early and sit on the small bench out the front. About 15 minutes pass and the guy finally arrives. By this stage it's getting pretty dark. Thinking back now I'm pretty sure he delayed it as much as he could. The man walks up to us slowly in a kind of predatory way, creeping forward as to make as little noise as possible even though we knew he was there. His grey jeans stained with what looked like white paint wearing a dark hoodie covering his head. All we could see was his face and the protruding long

grey tattered beard. The man stands in front of us while I introduce myself and my friend. The man does not react at all, instead seemingly looking me up and down for what felt like minutes. I could smell his breath from where I was standing, and his silence was only broken by the sound of his nose hairs whistling as he breathed. I eventually try and speak to him about his PC, stating that it was in fact a dead hard drive. However, before I could finish speaking, he interrupts me mid-sentence with a raspy voice, the kind of voice that makes you feel a tingle at the back of your throat. Is that your computer?

I responded, yes. Did you get everything back? The man quickly responded, in more of a statement rather than a question. Yes, I told you in the text message. In a quick and angry voice, he then asked me, Did you go through any of it? Of course not. Are you sure?

At this point I was getting really weirded out and my friend could tell I felt threatened. I do not deal well with older men and he knew it. He swiftly responded with, Look man, the computer's fixed and you have your data back. Do you want it or not? I looked at my friend then back at the man. He looked me up and down one last time, thrusted some notes into my hand, quickly grabbed the PC and swiftly but silently walked away to the car park. We got back in the car and I soon realized the man had paid me $400 for a simple repair. We never discussed the price as that usually happens

early in the discussion or as they return for their computer but usually this would only cost around $150. I was shocked and very happy. My friend was not so happy. Something felt very very off about that man and now I'm even more convinced. Did you notice how intent he was on you not going through his data? I agreed. Something weird was going on. Although I'm not supposed to, in doing so as kind of a breach of privacy, my itch to know what he was so paranoid about was strong. The next day at work, having been bugged by my friend, I finally decided to take a look at the contents of the clone drive. I noticed pretty quickly it was quite large.

Around 250 gigabytes for what was essentially a Windows install and some basic applications, photos, and a few downloads. It can be tricky to find what is taking up so much space sometimes, but using a tool like Space Sniffer can really help. I booted the program up and quickly found a zip file hidden in his Windows folder under a very long tree of folders. Inside these folders were other empty folders. Some had empty documents in them, others were completely empty. I jumped straight to the zip file and opened it. Luckily not password protected. What I found inside makes me feel sick. Even more so given what I have been through in my life. Thousands and thousands of images and videos of children.

Some suggestive, others more so. I opened three or four photos and immediately felt lightheaded and sick. I quickly closed the zip folder, shocked. Oddly enough, it did not settle in until sometime later what I had found. All I was thinking about before that was what would happen if a colleague saw those images in the building. Little did occur to me what kind of threat this man was and what now lay on my desk. I told my friend who told me to call the police ASAP. I did and was asked not to touch the image further and to come into the station to make a report with my friend. They later confiscated the drive I had copied the clone to and I never

got it back. I was told by police a week or so later that the phone number the man used to send me text messages was a web-based application, and the phone number was fake. However, they had identified the man thanks to the metadata stored on the hard drive clone, and that the man probably did not realize a copy was made of his drive in the process of recovery. They also told me the man was being looked for, however his last known residency was in a different state. The police believed he was staying somewhere without a lease, with a friend, or simply squatting and had since skipped town. It has been four years now and I have heard nothing. I am still paranoid he is going to come to my office building again or follow me home. I have surrounded my office with self-defense items just in case my home feels safe, however work not so much. Like I said earlier, most people go through life

without ever seeing the scum of society. I have experienced it myself three times now and I'm done, never ever again. So please, creepy man with the most spine-chilling raspy voice I have ever heard, please do not come to my workplace, you almost cost me my job, and the thought of what you might have done in the past, or what you might do in the future, haunts me to this day. I had just moved into an apartment complex and had only a bed, a TV, a rocking chair and an Xbox One. I work in a town that is about an hour away and they didn't have anything available that I could move into. So this big city was the next closest place that was also in my price range. The first few weeks play out the same. I get up, shower, go to work for 10 hours, come home, eat, watch a little Netflix, go to sleep, repeat. On my days off I travel three hours away

to see my wife and kids. Now we aren't divorced or separated, I had to relocate from the town we lived to start my career in asset protection as an APM or asset protection manager. One night as I was going through my evening routine, someone knocks on my door. It is a woman, maybe 5 foot 7, brown hair, skinny. She looked like she was methed out of her skull. Her eyes were barely even open. She asked to talk to someone named Jareth. I told her no one by that name lived here. She said he did. She said she was here last Thursday and he was here. She wanted to buy stuff from him and this was the address she was given. I once again told her no one named Jareth lived here and shut the door on her. She started banging on the door crying how she needed to get her fix.

I yelled at her. After a few moments I heard someone yell at her to shut up or they were calling the cops. The banging stopped. Never saw her again. I sat back down to continue watching the movie I had on. I started thinking about what the woman had said. She couldn't have been here last Thursday. I was off work last Thursday and Friday with my wife and children. I started to look around more closely. Nothing seemed out of place. I checked all the windows. Nothing was cracked or broken. All the security bars were locked in their places.

There were no upper attic spaces nor crawl spaces, nothing. I felt a little more secure and went about my night as usual. The next days off I made sure everything was locked and nothing was out of place. I went to see my wife as usual, told her what had happened. She suggested I take the pellet gun. Now I know, what is a pellet gun going to do? Well, in her thinking, it looked like a real gun. In the dark, no one could tell the difference.

Same for at a distance. Plus, it had a CO2 cartridge in it and 10 pellets, so I took it. When I got back, I looked around. Nothing was out of place. Nothing was missing. I put my stuff up as usual and turned on my Xbox. This is where I noticed something was off. When it powers on, it takes you to the home screen. On this screen, you can see the last thing you were on plus the previous things you have done. When I left it

last, the Netflix app should have been the first one on there, but it wasn't. Instead it was Battlefield 1. The one before that was Mortal Kombat X. Someone had been using my Xbox. I once again did a thorough search of the apartment. Nothing. It was a couple of days after the guy across from me approached me while I was getting out of my vehicle. He said that a lot of people were coming by the apartment on certain nights and were making a lot of noise and that it keeps his daughter up and if I could keep it down or just stop doing whatever it was that I was doing on those nights. I was confused. I must have shown it because his expression changed.

He asked me if I was the one who was having people over at odd hours on the night. I told him no. I proceeded to tell him the things that were happening. I told him I'm 200 miles away on my days off. We both came to the same conclusion that someone was getting into my apartment when I wasn't there. I made the decision not to go see my family one week to see if the person using my apartment would show up. Of course no one came that week or the week after. It dawned on me at work one day during a conversation about how shoplifters would try to see what vehicle you drove to know if you

were there and that's when it hit me. Whoever was using my apartment knew what I drove. With that in mind I waited till my next days off to set my trap. On the said day I parked my vehicle three complexes down and walked back. I unscrewed all my light bulbs and waited in the corner in the living room. I let my neighbor know that I was doing this in case any trouble occurred. I put my phone to its lowest brightness and had my camera ready, flash and all. I waited for six hours which felt like forever before it happened. I heard the front door knob jiggle.

I got up, phone in one hand and a pellet gun in the other. The door opened and someone entered shutting it behind them. Then I heard a click and then another. They were trying to switch on the lights. Then saw a light from the doorway. They had their phone out and were making their way into the room I was in. As soon as they entered the doorway, I snapped a picture. The brightness of the flash caught him completely off guard. He was momentarily stunned, cursing at

me trying to make his way back to the front door. I yelled at him to get out and never return. He reached into his pocket, dropping something as he pulled out a small pocket knife. I immediately raised the pellet gun and cocked the hammer. That stopped him completely. He dropped the knife, opened the door and ran out. My neighbor who had heard me yelling was waiting outside of his place when the man ran out. He saw me run out of my apartment, gun and all, and asked if I had shot him. I told him no and that it was a pellet gun but the man didn't know. I went back to the door and retrieved the pocket knife and what he dropped. It was a key.

A key to my door. Don't know how he got it but he had it. I showed the picture to my neighbor. He thought he recognized him but wasn't sure. I stayed up late that night calling my wife and telling her what happened. The next day I went over to the complex office and told them what happened. I brought up the fact that he had a key to my door and I wanted to know why he did. They weren't sure.

Then I showed them the picture of the man. They knew right then how he had the key. Turns out the person who was going to my apartment complex was a maintenance worker for them. He had been one of the ones renovating my apartment before I moved in. They are given keys and he must have made a copy of one. Then for nights at a time he would use it to do whatever it was he did. I must have put a hamper in his nightly business when I moved in. That is, until he'd figured out my routine. The man was of course fired from his job and prohibited from entering the grounds again. I was given three months free rent. I never pressed charges and just kind of let it go.

I have a real gun now, just in case. My neighbor and I struck up a friendship and we now watch each other's places when we are out of town. Hopefully this never happens again to anyone else and yes, I had the locks changed in case you were wondering. I bought a house. It's not haunted, I don't think. Truth be told, I haven't been here long enough to determine the one way or the other. It's old, historical even. It was sold after years on the market following the previous owner moving to a senior living center. Her children left literally everything, from the bed to the bottle of soy sauce in the kitchen. So it's eerie, but not haunted, I don't think. I'm 25 and have lived a life. I've always

been a bore and I assume this is because every aspect of my life that is out of my control is so wild that at the end of the day I really just enjoy a warm cookie and a nap. I've had the same few friends for years. I don't go out and I don't date. My number is only given out in a professional setting. I am boring and I'm happy. To get back to the story, I bought this house a few months ago. It needed some minor renovations. There was carpeting in the bathroom for example but it wasn't enough to scare me away. I made my first offer well below the asking price and it was accepted within the hour. I definitely set off some alarm bells but the house passed every inspection and I was getting a heck of a deal so whatever. The deal went through fairly painlessly and I was moved in by

the end of that month. Now one thing you're never ready for when moving into your own house is paying all of your bills yourself. I've been renting up to this point but all of my landlords took things like taxes, utilities, etc. out of my monthly rent. I saved where I could, forwent cable, signed up for city waste disposal rather than private, and bundled my internet and landline. Now I couldn't give a crap less about having a landline, but the bundle deal was cheaper than internet alone. A guy came by to set everything up while I pulled up carpeting and had the floorboards exposed. He set up the phone line in the kitchen and went on his merry way. For the first few weeks I hardly noticed the phone.

It was in the back corner of one of the countertops completely out of the way. I honestly forgot it existed until one day it rang. I didn't even know the number of the line but it rang. Since it obviously couldn't be anyone I knew since they wouldn't know the number either I let it go. It was probably a spam call. Things carried on like that for a few weeks. I'd be minding my own business when the sharp electric chimes echoed through my tiny home. I turned the ringer down as low as I could and the rings eventually became part of the background noise of the house. Then the messages started. They weren't IRS scams or anything like that. They weren't anything at all. Just 30 seconds of dead air. Like the calls, this was odd but not frightening. The same thing had happened on my cell phone a couple of times so I didn't really think anything of it until I noticed the pattern.

My job has me working odd and consistent hours. No week is like the one before. It's so bad that if I need to schedule an appointment, I need to ask for a full day off at least a week in advance because who knows when I'd actually have free time if I didn't demand it. Knowing this, what I noticed was almost impossible. Whenever I came home, I never had any missed calls or messages waiting for me. The calls and messages only ever came through when I came home I never had any missed calls or messages waiting for me. The calls and messages only ever came through when I was home, when I should be answering the phone. I started to wonder if someone was watching me. I live in a quiet neighborhood, mostly retirees and history nerds. There's a local bar down the block and some rednecks about two blocks west, but that's about it. There's a school within walking

distance so legally no convicted idiots can live there. What I'm getting at here is that I live in a safe place, much safer than any of my other homes. Still, anything is possible. I get an alarm system and some cameras. I also started writing down the phone calls, keeping track of how many came in and when to make sure I wasn't imagining the pattern I noticed. I wasn't. After a few more weeks I got used to it. Random call, feed the cat, blank message, water the plants, random call, switch the laundry. Then the voice came through. I know you're home, it sang, taunting me. Why won't you talk to me? From then on, the once blank messages would continue like that. My name, my cat's name. It would even ask for my friend's names after they visited.

The voice kind of sounds like a man, but it's so distorted that I can't be sure. Maybe a man speaking through a voice changer. Maybe a woman, I don't know. I don't know how they have this number. I don't know how they have my schedule. I don't know how they know these details about my life. And I don't know what to do. I'm something of an avid cyclist and have been all my life.

It's my preferred method of transportation. I also live in a town that's famous for its ever-expanding network of pedestrian and bike paths. We've even won some awards for them over the years. I'm also an Iraq veteran, this may explain something that happens later. The summers where I live tend to be quite humid but otherwise pleasant, so one gorgeous August day off from work I decided to go for a ride. I didn't have a specific end destination in mind but I got this idea to ride along a southbound trail that I don't go through very often. There are enough traffic lights along that section that it should have been a relatively

safe ride and it also goes along the border of a rather popular city park. I figured there'd be plenty of people there, especially on such a nice day. Well, I was kinda sorta right about that. About 20 minutes or so into my otherwise smooth pleasure ride I came up to a couple of a nice day. Well I was kinda sorta right about that. About 20 minutes or so into my otherwise smooth pleasure ride I came up to a couple of bends in the path not long before the park. There were a few people jogging or walking their dogs, one or two people walking by themselves, so far nothing unusual.

The trails are paved and divided into two lanes just like a regular road I'm in the southeastern United States where you're supposed to stay in the right-hand lane. Not far ahead, I noticed a dark-haired dude walking in the wrong lane. It's not illegal to do so, but it can be dangerous. I noticed that he seemed to have no regard whatsoever for others walking in the proper direction and almost bumped a few of them without a thought. I figured maybe he was on something, but I also saw that he was wearing what looked like an old navy blue puffy jacket on a humid day in August. Call it situational awareness or what have you,

but no one in their right mind wears a fall jacket in the summertime south of the Mason-Dixon line. I'm about 30 or so feet away from this guy when he finally sees me and my stomach drops as I swear to y'all on my own life he pauses mid-step and then his face melts into a downward facing jokerish smile. Then he opens his jacket revealing a sweaty gray shirt underneath as he reached inside in for something I couldn't see and that's when something in my head goes, nuh-uh. I don't know what some of you reading this might do if faced with something like this but I got this insane idea. Instead of turning around, instead of screaming or stopping, I pedaled faster. Without a second thought I just spun the pedals as hard as I could with the intention of charging him like a medieval jouster.

Dangerous moments like these may only last a few seconds in reality but I swear it felt like I was building up speed and barreling towards this guy for a good minute or two. I don't know why my brain decided that charging him head on was the right thing to do and maybe it could as just easily have gotten me hurt or killed but I didn't care. I can point out Mosul, Baghdad and Fallujah on an unlabeled map of the Middle East. I was scared of course but something I haven't felt since I've been over there drove me to do something. He sees me speeding up and hunkering down but isn't getting out of the way. Only within seconds, maybe less than two feet shy of slamming into him, does he realize what's about to happen. Or it could have been the war face,

I don't know, and then drives to the left. Swoosh. I don't stop. I don't look back. I don't even think about it. I just go and keep going. I later happen to pass a female jogger or two coming the opposite direction and give them a heads up about the guy. They promptly turn around. I sought a different route that day and locked my doors when I got home. I haven't been on that stretch of the trail since. I didn't think to tell the police at the time given that I wasn't actually harmed and that just acting scary isn't a crime in and of itself but maybe I should have. But about a month later a local news story crossed my Facebook feed. The fifth rotting body in less than two years was just discovered near the same area of the trail near a creek.

Cops said that they weren't sure exactly how a homeless man had died, but that it didn't look like a natural death. All of the victims were known vagabonds, people that nobody would otherwise care about. I'm not saying that I definitely bull rushed a serial killer, but to this day I often ponder that possibility. So this happened to me back in 2013, shortly before New Years. I am a female born and bred in South Africa, but at the time I was living in London and had recently turned 21. A friend of mine from South Africa had traveled up to London for a holiday in early December. When we met up she invited me to come spend New Year's with her in Paris as she had some family who lived there that had invited her to stay with them. Not having

anything planned I thought this sounded like a really great idea and also I am a sucker for the Eiffel Tower. She was planning to take the Eurostar but being quite broke at the time I decided to book a cheap megabus up alone. So she naturally arrived in record time during the day and I was due to arrive sometime in the evening. I told her I would call her when I arrived and she said that her and her cousins would come pick me up. After a really long trip I got dropped off at the bus stop. The bus stop was right by a mall or in a mall, this is where my memory gets a bit hazy. I remember calling my friend when I arrived and her telling me to walk through the mall and to meet her at a specific parking lot close to one of the mall entrances. So there I was. It was late. It was dark. I'm alone.

I'm sitting on my trolley suitcase with my back against the wall and my other smaller bag standing next to me, waiting patiently for them to arrive. The area I was sitting in was well lit but at the time it was deserted. I could see people in the distance milling about but no one in near proximity to me. I remember feeling safe at the time as I was right by a busy mall. Also possibly relevant to say but in South Africa you need to be on your guard 24-7 as crime is rampant. However a few months living in London had kind of eased me into a space where I had become a far less guarded and less vigilant person. I guess I became somewhat implicitly trusting of my surroundings, which is naive looking back, but I was young and dumb.

So there I am, twiddling thumbs. I suddenly noticed what looked to be two older men walking towards me. They must have been about in their mid-thirties, hard to remember exactly. They walk directly over to me and strike up what appears to be an innocent conversation, simply asking if I was okay and if someone would be coming for me soon. Initially, in keeping with my naive mindset, I didn't feel alarmed or threatened. I generally thought they were just being friendly and looking out for me. We talk a little longer and they ask me more questions like where I'm from, what I'm doing in Paris, who I'm staying with.

I remember the guy in particular was more talkative and charming whilst the other was a bit quieter and seemed visibly angsty. Think restless body language. Now remember, I said I was sitting on my trolley suitcase with my back against the wall. I noticed that their body positioning begins to alter slightly like they were coming a bit closer but also positioning themselves so that I was somewhat cornered. As soon as I become aware of this the entire tone of the interaction shifted for me and every alarm bell possible started going off. I started to politely attempt to end the conversation by saying my friend and her cousins would be there shortly

but that it was nice to meet them. The one guy suddenly told me that I should come with them in his car, the more talkative, charismatic one. I tried to decline but he began to become more adamant and almost urgent about it. As I could tell he was going to reach for me, out of the corner of my eye I saw someone walking brusquely towards us. Their eyes darted over and they suddenly dashed. I realized it was a security guard as he came closer. He came straight up to me and told me to gather my belongings and walk with him to sit inside the mall. I quietly obliged. As he settled me in he told me to gather my belongings and walk with him to sit inside the mall. I quietly obliged. As he settled me in, he told me that he had been observing the interaction on their security cameras and they decided it would be best to intervene. They said based on the situation, it looked like a possible abducting waiting to happen. So incredibly thankful they did,

as I don't know what would have happened if they had come any later. I called my friend and she apologized and said they were nearly there. I was a bit shaken by the incident but mostly just relieved nothing worse had happened. So I guess to the creepy older men who tried to get me to come into their car, no thanks. Thanks. This happened last year around Christmas time as I was on my way to visit my parents. I'm traveling from Nashville, Tennessee to Kent Island, Maryland and it's me and my dog, Kona. A mix of pit bull, bulldog and husky lab. I'm a tall, fairly built man, for context. It's about a 12-hour drive and it sucked. When we got to Upper Virginia around Harrisonburg, I was tired and Kona needed to go potty. I also needed to gas so I pulled into a gas station around 10pm.

I pulled up to pump and started getting gas. While the gas was going I left Kona in the car and went inside to get some food and a much needed Red Bull. When I walked out of the gas station I noticed a slender, raggedy man standing by my gas pump. As I reach my car this man tells me that he is homeless and is in need of extra clothing given that it is very cold outside. I am empathetic, however all I have in my truck are presents for my family and my little amount of clothing for myself. I apologize and tell him I can't help him but wish him luck. He says he noticed I have boxes in my truck and that anything will help. I tell him I have no clothes for him but offered him the food I just bought in

the gas station but he refuses. He grows agitated and asks if he can have the heavy coat that I'm wearing. A very nice pea coat that was a graduation gift from my mom. I tell him no and that I need it. He starts yelling and telling me that I am spoiled and live off my parents. Not true. I am frightened and Kona jumps into the driver's seat to observe. He reached out to grab my shoulder and I back up and bump into my truck. He approaches about one foot away from me and says, I said I need your help, loudly with one hand on my shoulder and another in his pocket. At this point Kona goes absolutely nuts in my truck,

barking at this man and snarling her teeth. I can hear her bark, and so can he. He looks at Kona and I tell him, leave me alone right now, or I'll open this door and my dog will rip your throat out. This seemed to do the trick. He backed away and I quickly opened the door and hopped in, forcing my dog out of the driver's seat. She's still going nuts and I wait until he's far enough away to put the gas pump away. I start to drive away

on the side of the gas station I see the same man jump into the passenger side of a black SUV. I was going to get my dog a big steak but about 5 minutes later she ended up crapping in my truck so I think she was a little scared. It was a pretty standard evening, commuting home to the rural village that I live.

It had been getting dark early for a while now and with this being my first year here, I was still a little nervous walking down the unlit roads, but there hadn't been anything to worry about yet. I disembarked the train and popped into the shop just off the end of the platform. To set the scene of how rural it is, there isn't really a station as such, just two platforms in the middle of the village with a level crossing. The road leading away from the station is lit by a single light every hundred or so yards, which then disappear about 300 yards and the road is pretty much pitch black except for a car's headlights passing along every now and then. I got what I needed from the shop, walked out and made it about 50 yards up the road when I noticed this guy just standing there looking at me from the other side of the street. He had a vacant expression but his eyes were completely transfixed on me.

I had a feeling I recognized him but I wasn't sure where from. Regardless I maintained eye contact with him and continued to walk until he was pretty much just a silhouette. I made it to the second light and shortly after I passed it I noticed a shadow appearing alongside me. I turned quickly and sure enough it was the same guy. He stopped dead and just stared at me again, like we were playing some game of what's the time Mr. Wolf. Seeing him in the light it was hard to distinguish his age. He looked like he could have been 20 but also looked like he could have been in his 30s. He was quite scrawny, bleach blonde hair on top and he was holding this long black umbrella

but it had been raining so I wasn't sure why he was carrying it. I asked him if he was okay and if he wanted anything. He just replied with, nothing, thank you and started to walk ahead of me. Annoyingly he was walking in the same direction as I was, so I gave him a few minutes head start before moving again. I made it onto the unlit section of street and a couple of cars passed me heading in the same direction. I made a point of looking down the street as they did, but fortunately, he wasn't anywhere to be seen. I picked up the pace and knew I'd be home in a few minutes if I maintained this speed but within about 30 seconds another car passed and up ahead was the silhouette of this guy which I could make out because of the shape of the umbrella.

It was obvious he wasn't moving so as I got closer I shouted, What do you want? He didn't answer, just scurried across the road and into the entrance of the estate on which I live. I had no choice but to follow, otherwise I wasn't getting home, but I decided to avoid walking directly to my house in case he followed me. I noticed he took the main road through the estate so I quickly shuffled off to a road that goes around the back of the houses with a couple of side roads that join back onto the main road. As I reached the top of the back road, the guy obviously cut through one of the side roads and came up ahead of me. I decided to stop dead and he did the same, before all of a sudden swinging his umbrella hard onto the floor from above his head,

like he was chopping wood. It felt like when you see a bull ready to charge, brushing their foot along the floor. The sound of metal hitting the floor obviously drew the attention of one of the nearby houses as a woman came out and asked what was going on. The guy ran back towards the main road while I just stood there, partly in disbelief and partly in terror. I explained everything to the woman and we decided to call the police and make them aware of this guy being in the area in case anything was to happen. But other than sending a car around to do a lap there wasn't anything else they could do. I spoke to my girlfriend about it, told her what had happened and she reminded me where I had seen him before. Last year before I moved in I had gone

to visit her and passed him on my way back to the station. I remember looking back after he passed because he made a point of staring as he did and he had stopped, just staring at me as I walked down the road. I made it all the way to the station and could still see his silhouette a couple of hundred yards back up the road. He hadn't moved in the whole time I had been walking away from him. I haven't seen him since that second encounter but he must be a local. I asked in the shop about the guy with the bleach blonde hair and they don't know who he is so I'm at a loss at the moment.

Let's hope I don't have any more encounters with this weirdo. I am of Japanese descent and each year I go to visit my family in the north of Japan and also do the Oban, which is basically like the Day of the Dead in Japan, when the spirit of the dead come to visit the land of the living. During this period I decided to go visit Kyoto a little and long story short after walking for a while out of the city I began climbing a nearby mountain to discover a substantially sized cemetery. Being a young lad of 16 at the time I decided I'd go exploring and see which families are interred here. It was about 3 p.mpm and it was

scorching and the trees here and there in the cemetery bore a welcoming shade for me to cool down a little. After about 10 minutes or so of looking around the very old stone slabs, I realized a few odd details. First, it seems I somehow got lost in the cemetery. Mind you, I have an excellent sense of geolocalization and I found my way out of many a forest, mountains, airports and such. The cemetery itself was lower in its middle part and surrounded by woods so I think I was in the lower part because the horizon was only tombs. Secondly it was getting dark. As I said before, it was around 3pm so that was very odd and the surroundings had that yellowish tinge you get at dusk.

If I make a small cultural parenthesis, dusk is called Totsu Geredoki in old Japanese and it's supposed to be the in-between moment when strange things occur, not a good time to be surrounded by tombs. Third, I was getting a little cold. Not like I was plunged in an icy pool but more like when you're in the middle of the mountains and you can feel some coldness through the gaps of your coat. After that I began to see some weird shadows or something on the corner of my eyes. Very weird because I wasn't feeling panicked or anything and I could calmly observe them. It was moving like these old lava lamps, very deliberately and sometimes looked to

be like human shapes or huge faces. I was walking toward it because I thought it can harm me physically and I can certainly punch it but it was like a mirage and it was fluttering. After a while I started to feel like I was in danger and I was getting colder and colder. At this moment I saw a monk who was very surprised to see me there because the cemetery was supposed to be closed at this hour. He brought me back to the entrance and I told him it was open when I got in. He informed me that he was next to it all day and didn't see me pass by. I assume he thought I went in for a fraction so I told him everything I saw and felt. He seemed very surprised at first and then told me to look at the hour. It was 6.10pm.

That means I was there for like three hours. He then told me I shouldn't come here while the sun is setting. That I could have been taken away by Kamikakushi. Anyway, it was a very weird experience there. And I suggest to everyone that you don't enter any cemeteries, let alone the cemetery east of Kyoto, near the Shogunzuka mountain, near dark. There's this hill near my hometown, beautiful with lots of forest and a gigantic tower on top. There's always wild parties on the top of that hill,

but other than that, locals seem to kind of avoid this hill. Some even say there's something wrong with the forest up there. Nearly no wildlife and people, especially hikers, say there's weird stuff happening. I was always a bit skeptic towards those people and wrote it off as drunk people hearing stuff that's not there, etc. Until today. Me and my friend got invited to one of those parties on top of the hill.

The drive up there is already quite adventurous because the streets are snowy, the turns narrow and on one side of the road is a 10 meter drop. So better drive carefully. We listened to music on our way up, had a great time when suddenly my car horn honked three times, just like that. We were both so confused, and the thing with my car horn is that you have to sucker punch that thing to even get a little beep out of it, so there's no pressing it on accident. But alright, it's an old car. Could be a malfunction, who knows. We kept going, already a bit creeped out, until like five minutes later when we suddenly heard something scratch the roof of my car.

But it didn't sound like a tree branch or something. The scratch was quite consistent and the scratches were always like three seconds apart. Pretty loud too. And there weren't any tree branches low enough to reach the roof of my car anyways. We started to get scared, but there's no way to turn around on that street so we just had to keep going until we reached the top. Initially we had planned to park the car there and walk the last part to the party because there's not really a road but we were both so scared that we decided to turn around and just drive home. On our way back nothing really happened until we reached the part of the road where we heard the scratching on our rooftop and I kid you not and the fresh snow

on the street were footprints. Three perfectly straight rows of footprints. I don't know if they led from the forest to the other side of the road where the 10 meter drop is or from the drop to the forest but either way, that's creepy man. Of course we sped down that hill like Satan was trying to tickle our bums. I drop my friend off and I'm home now but still shaking. I'm usually not someone to be like, yeah, that's definitely paranormal, but this stuff is just too weird. I can't find any logical explanation for this. I mean, sure, the car horn could have been a crazy coincidence, but the scratching and the footsteps, and everything with the number three, three car honks, three seconds between the

scratches. I mean, that could be my imagination, maybe it was two seconds but who knows. I didn't look at my watch or anything and also the three rows of footprints. Do you guys have any explanation for me? Like anything at all because at this point I'm really creeped out. My mom is a scientist. She doesn't spontaneously do anything. She is used to careful planning, organization and preparation. However with this house she threw that all away.

After looking at it online she went to visit two days later and bought it a week after that, despite it only being 10 minutes away from our old house and the old house being perfectly fine. That was the first strange thing. When I finally came home from college and came into the house for the first time, I felt weird. Now, I used to be a skeptic, but now I'm not so sure. Unlike most houses or places I stay where I hate it only when I'm alone in the dark, this house is just creepy regardless of the time of day. The basement is unfinished and eerily dark despite dozens of lamps and lights.

The first floor is stuffy and it feels crowded and the second second floor almost feels depressed, like there's an overwhelming sadness that lingers like cigarette smoke. But throughout the whole house, it feels like you're being watched from around the corner. It's as if there's someone peeking around the door frames and walls, staring at you, waiting for you to do something. It's extremely paranoia inducing and it's throughout the entire house, day or night, rain or shine. It's a constant. It wouldn't be strange if it was just me feeling this but my brother and mother admit to feeling the same sort of paranoia or depression, especially upstairs. Now there are some strange things that have happened. My cat sometimes is scared of the upstairs.

One time I brought her upstairs into my room. She clawed her way out of my arms and darted under my bed. I couldn't lure her out with cat treats. I had to drag her out using my baseball bat and when I did, her tail was all bushy and her pupils were blown. My mom doesn't believe in ghosts at all but after coming to this house she constantly talks about the fairies in the house that live in the basement and when upstairs she talks to Charlie. When I ask her why she says just in case. My mom said that one morning she saw the cat up on her hind legs and just batting randomly at the air for over 10 minutes. When I was home alone during the day I wanted some water so I left my room and was in the hallway when I heard a clear whistle.

It was impossible to miss and wasn't the house creaking or anything because it had a distinct sound. It went from high to low pitch like a mocking whistle. My brother lost his wallet one time. I saw him leave it on the countertop in the kitchen and then hours later he couldn't find it no matter how hard he looked. My mom told him to go downstairs and ask the fairies to give them back. My brother hesitantly went to the basement and said he apologized and asked for his wallet back and ten minutes later it was sitting on the edge of the countertop. My brother rarely comes home. He's five years older than me and lives at my dad's apartment because my mom kicked him out

for doing drugs constantly and not paying rent but whenever he does come over the cat starts acting really protective or possessive of herself. She doesn't like him to pet her and always whines whenever he does. My mom told my brother that the fairies don't like him and pet her and always whines whenever he does. My mom told my brother that the fairies don't like him and that he should apologize. This one doesn't have much credibility because my brother does a lot of drugs and stuff but he swears that when he was walking downstairs from first floor to the basement someone shoved him on the stairs and he nearly fell. And then a little later in the basement he said that he felt something directly behind him standing over him and he had never been so scared in his life. Let me know what you guys

think. There's definitely not enough evidence to outright say this place is haunted and I'll need a lot more concrete evidence, not just feelings and vibes, but it is a weird place. To give a bit of backstory before I begin, I am currently 25 years old. I grew up in Washington State. For a number of years I lived with my grandparents and my mom after we lost our home. This incident takes place seven years ago but I've had weird stuff I've considered paranormal happen ever since I was little. At the time we lived in my grandmother's house which we returned to after five or so years living away from there. When I was a kid there was tons of stories surrounding ghosts and creepy stuff that happened to both my sister

and my brother. A lot of the stuff my grandma would dismiss as nonsense and tell them to shut up about it. There's plenty of stories I can tell later if people are interested but right now I'll focus on the latest big one. At my grandma's house I took the guest room and made it my own. This room was fairly small and had a long thin closet only a few feet away from the foot of my bed. Inside was mostly old stuff my grandma kept inside as storage after my grandpa passed away, but she's kept a lot of her own personal belongings there in plastic containers for years. Stuff like fabrics, old dresses, photo albums, etc. A few months after we moved in, I started to hear creepy sounds from the closet. Stuff falling over, shuffling, or sliding against the door.

My grandma would check occasionally, but nothing would be out of place. Eventually, every so often, I would hear a music box playing from inside the closet late at night. It wasn't anything startlingling but every single time it would happen I'd feel deeply uneasy and walk out to the living room to watch old shows with my grandma to avoid it. My mom and grandma would tell me I was just hearing things and for the most part I agreed since the year prior I officially found out I suffer from night terrors. I figured that hearing things was part of it and I started sleeping with headphones on blasting my music and this continued all the way up till

night when I was 18. I had a Skype group of online friends that I would hang out with and we'd often stay up super late posting memes and playing games and this would wind down with us having talks at night until we got tired. Now up till this point, the only people who knew about the music box stuff was my mom, my older brother, and my grandma, and no one else. We all stayed up one night and I accidentally fell asleep in the Skype call, passed out on my mic in bed, and all that good stuff. When I woke up the next morning, everyone made jokes at my expense and told me all about how loudly I snored and moaned in my sleep but my friend at the time Brian piped up and joked

about kicking something and a music box playing in the background. Everyone who stayed up that night said the same thing and said the music box music got louder like it got close to my microphone. Naturally I freaked out about this and asked if anyone could tell me what it sounded like and my friend Hannah hummed the exact song I had been hearing from the closet. I told them all about it and they all agreed that it was terrifying. When my grandma woke up I asked her to find the music box in the closet and remove it. She dug through each one of the boxes in the stack and found it in She dug through each one of the boxes in the stack and found it in the middle container buried under old paper and clothing she packed away.

She took it to her room and I never heard the music again. I kept multiple things stacked in front of the closet for years after until I moved out and to this day every time I remember it I get really uncomfortable. Like I said I have more stories to tell from both me and my siblings from stuff that happened over our childhoods, if anyone is interested, but I'd be interested in your guys' thoughts on this. So growing up, I went to a pretty big and well-known Boy Scout camp in Ohio. The staff would always tell stories of ghosts and omens in the camp. The camp had a heavy Native American influence. I always thought these were just stories. One summer I worked there and experienced a lot of things for myself. I will share a

few stories but won't write them all due to the amount unless people want to hear more. A few notes about the camp here, this camp does not have much electricity with a few exceptions and the campsites were just canvas tents, an open pavilion and a latrine. Troops stay there for a full week and then new troops come for the next week. First story is about a man named Hutch. Hutch was one of the founders of the camp and I believe was a camp director long ago. It was always told that after taps was played, curfew for the camp, and a scout was out of their campsite, he would walk with them. He would try to direct you in the correct way to get back to your campsite. If you heard footsteps to your left, he would want you to turn left. If he heard them on front of you,

he would want you to keep going. If he heard them behind you, he wanted you to turn around and so on. If you heard him walking, it was said that you could say, it's okay Hutch, I know my way, and he would leave. Flash forward to when I worked there. The paths in the woods to get back to the staff site were flooded, so myself and two other staff walked a main road to get to them. Scouts were not allowed to go near this road for their safety, and they had no reason to. As soon as we reached the road, we started hearing footsteps. At first, they were to our left, which was where the path was. Once we started walking on the road they were behind us. Not sure if we were just hearing things, we stopped.

There were a couple more steps behind us, then they stopped. We continued and tried a few more times with almost the exact same results every time. Finally one of the guys I was with stops and says, It's okay Hutch, we know our way. And the steps start to walk away. We continued on and didn't hear them the rest of the time. Second story involves our radios. Only higher up staff got them and only one of the three female staff members had one. One night a female voice comes through the radio and is crying and screaming for help. A silent emergency,

an emergency only certain staff members know about, was issued and a headcount was performed. The crying and pleas for help keep coming through the radio every few minutes. One staff member goes to the tent the female staff member is in and discovers her still asleep with her radio sitting on the charger. The emergency was cancelled and to this day, no one can explain it. The final story I will share involves the omens. One omen is of a white wolf with red eyes that, when seen, means something bad will happen over the course of the summer. The other is a white doe with blue eyes that brings a good summer.

During our opening staff week, we were setting up camp and it had gotten late at night. Only a few staff were still out working. One of the last ones comes back, a program director, and joins a few of us sitting by the fire. Everyone says hi but immediately notices this worried scared look on his face. When asked about it he doesn't want to talk but finally tells us because we were all directors and assistant directors. He tells us that while coming back he felt an overwhelming cold sensation and when he turned around he saw the white wolf standing on the path behind him. We all wondered about what it was warning us about. Everything

was good until scout week two of seven. A few scouts got very sick but it happened so no one batted an eye about it. The next week significantly more scouts get sick and it just keeps getting worse every week. Staff were getting sick and whole campsites were quarantined. We called in health departments from several counties to help us solve the problem but no one could figure out why this was happening. They even did soil and water tests all around the camp. I fully believe the white wolf was warning us about it. I'm a believer in the supernatural.

Despite my belief, I have never believed in black-eyed children, even though I have always been fascinated by them. They just didn't make any sense to me. It seemed simultaneously random and contrived. Nevertheless, I have always thought of them as fascinating and hoped to someday use them in a story. I never imagined that I'd be telling a true story about one. Very few authors make enough money for selling books to support themselves or a family, so I have a day job as a social worker for a private company in central Missouri called Sedalia. At the time, I worked in and around a small rural community called Windsor in Henry County.

My job took me to all over eastern Henry County, often in rural areas down dirt roads through thick forests. I don't recall the exact day or even month but sometime in the spring of 2018 I was driving on a rural road south of Windsor. Specifically, I was driving south on Evans Road. Note, in Windsor, this is a county line road because it is the county line between Henry and Pettus counties. Just south of the eastward turn to Brandon Road, Evans Road makes an L shape. You can see this in Google Maps of the area. That turns the road from north-south to east-west. When heading south, to your left is an open field so you can see if there is anything around the bend on the east-west turn. Seeing there wasn't, I took the turn then glanced at something on my phone, probably changing a song,

when I looked up and saw a boy in the middle of the road. I wasn't going very fast, you don't make a turn on a dirt road fast unless you want to land in a ditch but if I hadn't turned fast I would have hit him. He remained stationary in the road and I sailed past him as I laid on the brakes and skidded to a stop. I saw him out of the side of my eyes as I passed him very close. Despite this he didn't seem in any way troubled by almost getting hit by my SUV. It was only when I passed very close that I got a glimpse of his eyes. Black.

At the time, I thought nothing of it and assumed it was a trick of the light or part of the stress. Or maybe he was wearing sunglasses. Whatever the case, I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was just worried I might have hit a child. Once my vehicle was stopped, I opened just worried I might have hit a child. Once my vehicle was stopped I opened the door and jumped out to see nothing. No one. No boy and no sign of a boy. Yes I could feel him. I feel like I was being watched and I got the sense that he was on the other side of my vehicle. I started to walk around it thinking he was hiding from me because he was scared, understandably. I called out to him, then dropped to my knees to look under my SUV to see

if I could find his feet and know how far from me he was on the other side of the vehicle. I saw nothing. I backed away from the parked SUV far enough that I would see if anything emerged on either side and waited. Nothing. Yet the whole time I had a feeling of being watched. It's hard to explain but it felt like the dread you get when your teacher scolds you for doing something then watches you for a while after. Like you know if you make another mistake you're going to get scolded again. After a while waiting around just felt stupid so I got in my vehicle and left, still in a daze from what just happened. I messaged my wife and a couple of my friends about it but there was nothing else to do.

I spoke to some locals about local ghost legends but there was nothing about a boy haunting that road. There is an old cemetery not far from there and Windsor is a very old community so there is a high likelihood of some hauntings but nothing about that road being haunted by a boy ghost. The feeling of being watched persisted no matter where I went for the next few hours but was most intense when I was in my vehicle. It's worth noting that when I got out of my SUV I left my door open and when I was circling the vehicle at one point the door was on the other side so he could have jumped in there before I looked under it for his feet. It didn't occur to me at the time to search the inside of the vehicle. In a way, I'm glad I didn't. I left it alone after

that and it only ever came up again when my friends wanted me to relay the creepy story to others. Coincidentally, my voice tutor is a member of a local ghost hunting group, and I talked with him about it. He asked if the boy frightened me. I said yes, but not because I thought he wanted to hurt me. More like the same kind of dread you'd get being scared by a stranger. You just don't know what they want. It might be harmless, it might not.

A few months passed and nothing. Over the summer I started walking at night to exercise. I often did this at night as my day job keeps me at work long hours and evenings are the only times I have. So I'm usually walking around 8 or 9. I like to listen to horror narrations and documentaries about paranormal and unsolved mysteries. I usually load these up on my iPhone and listen as I walk. I live in a small town called Coal Camp just south of Sedalia, Missouri. It too is a very old town with a fair share of ghost stories. It was even the site of a civil war battle. I noticed sometimes while walking I'd get that feeling again like I

was being watched. I would look around expecting to see someone looking at me but there would be nothing. Coal Camp is a small town and it's rare to cross paths with someone else that time of night. However, from time to time I would catch a glimpse of the outline of a boy, often in the shadows of someone's yard or an alley, only to have it vanish when I look back a second time. This has happened at least a dozen times and it happened again as recently as last week which brings me to my latest encounter which is by far the strangest after the initial. While walking I started listening to a YouTube video about black-eyed children. This was a

compilation of spooky stories about them. While listening my iPhone started acting funny. It would randomly skip to the next video forcing me to jump back and find my place in the first one. My iPhone never does this. Cole camp is literally in the middle of nowhere so 4G is spotty at best. However when it gives out it usually just buffers or freezes. I've never had it just skip an entire video. I eventually assumed that there was something wrong with that video and went to another one. It wasn't what I wanted anyway.

I wanted theories about black-eyed children. I had already started suspecting that was what I was dealing with and I needed some real data. I found a roundtable discussion video about them and started listening to that as I walked. It continually did the same thing, jumping around like the first video. That was when I felt it again. Him. I felt like I was being watched. I turned to look up the street where I sensed he was standing but saw nothing. I turned back around as my head passed over a row of houses. I caught a silhouette of him in an alley between two houses near a tree. I didn't realize I'd seen him at first but when I did I'd look back and he was gone. I promptly returned home but I have to stipulate

that I wasn't really scared. I just felt compelled to return home. I don't think he means to harm me and if he did he'd had plenty of chances already. But I just felt I needed to be home. I played a random video as I walked home and experienced no more jumps. Once I was home I locked the door and switched to YouTube on my TV. My wife was at choir practice so I was home alone with our four cats. Once inside I didn't feel him anymore. I started the video again and it was playing fine for a while until it froze. As soon as that happened I noticed my cat Arya pointing her nose at the front door, growling lowly. Arya is our most aggressive

territorial cat, also the smallest so it's kind of cute, and she's most likely to confront an intruder. But she never hisses at a closed door, even where there is a neighborhood cat on the other side. If the big doors open and she can see out the screen door she just stares down the other cats to let them know this is her place. She never growls unless the other cat is inside or near her, like if we open the door so there isn't a barrier. What I'm saying is that this was unusual behavior for her but not out of character. If Aria sensed a threat on the porch that a door might not stop, she would have behaved in exactly this manner. Meanwhile, I had an overwhelming sense that I should not go to the door or look outside,

not dread, just knowing I shouldn't. The YouTube video would not play at all. I remember my front door security camera which feeds to an app on my phone and activated it. All I saw was a black screen. I assumed my app was down and restarted it but nothing. I called my wife and asked her to check hers. She did and said hers was black too. Then while I was on the phone with her she said, oh it's back. I grabbed my phone and looked and sure enough I could see the porch. Aria ceased hissing and walked off to do other cat business. I no longer felt the need to avoid the door and when I looked myself, I saw everything was clear. Aside from this, the only other strangeness has been that I cannot add

videos about black eyed kids to my watch later list on YouTube. I can put them there and they are there if I look immediately but if I wait any length of time, they're deleted. It's been almost a week and I haven't been walking. I've actually been very sick this weekend but I'm feeling better so I haven't encountered him again. I no longer fear him if I ever did. I don't think he wants to hurt me as he could have already if he wished it. He's never knocked on my door or attempted contact but I've never spoken to him either. Every time I feel him I would try to say something. I don't get a feeling of maliciousness from him, only curiosity. My wife incidentally calls herself

a cautious believer in these things but she does not believe in black eyed children specifically. She believes my initial encounter was a legitimate ghost sighting but everything that has followed has been the product of my own overworked and highly creative mind which is fair. I also know that this encounter is atypical of black eyed children in that they tend to be malicious and sadistic and are not shy about approaching people. Perhaps this one was touched that I got out of my vehicle to check on him after I almost hit him instead of driving away. There's no need to warn me of the risks. I already know not to let him into my home.

If he comes to my door, I'll talk to him through it. Again, he's never tried this though. I'm at a loss for understanding this. This is not my first paranormal experience but it is by far the most intriguing. My previous paranormal experiences do not seem connected but if anyone wants to hear them in order to find a commonality, I'd be happy to share those as well. At the house I grew up in, my parents had a rocky relationship. Actually, all of us had one with my mom, who was always in the basement. Anyways, the only activity I remember in the house was seeing a ghost boy that I thought was my little brother,

bringing it up to my dad because I didn't believe in ghosts. I thought I was crazy, but he said he saw it a few months earlier. My dad's sister is very into the supernatural, claims she can see supernatural things and said that the boy's name was Sam. Other than that the only activity in the house was when we were playing with toys in the basement alone and after a long period of time you just got uncomfortable out of nowhere like you were being watched and after a long period of time you just got uncomfortable out of nowhere like you were being watched and had to get out of there. I don't know if that's paranormal or just kid stuff. My mom believed in everything as far as I know. Ghosts, psychics, fortune tellers, etc. and hated going to church and stopped our family when I was young.

She had us cleanse our house with frankincense and myrrh regularly which if you don't know helps get rid of bad energy apparently. She was a very greedy object-based person who was also an alcoholic and ruined her relationship with everyone on both sides of our family and has very few friends so she brought a lot of negative energy to the house and family. Anyways, just giving some background information. During the divorce, my dad swore he saw her face change when they were arguing one time. Also, she went and talked to my little brother who said she had an odd voice and looked on her face while she kept referring to him as Sam, which was the ghost boy's name and nothing close to his name. Both were very creepy experiences to hear. When my parents finalized their divorce, my mother moved out.

I was at my university, so I got to miss that fortunately. But when I came back for summer after my lease ended was when the odd stuff started happening. I got home late around midnight and moved my stuff into the basement. I put my mattress down, got my sheets on it and threw my 40 bags full of clothes into a pile and was getting ready to sleep because I was tired. My dad has two dogs who came downstairs to sleep with me. Normally they aren't allowed and are kept out by a locked gate but they hadn't seen me in a while so my dad let them downstairs. Only the dogs wouldn't sleep. They were staring at the corner in the basement for five minutes with their ears perked up. The one of them started defensively growling.

A minute or so later both of them ran upstairs. I said forget this I'm uncomfortable now and got out of there and went upstairs as well. Main floor and basement is all we have and I went to sleep on the couch. I fell asleep on the couch, forgot about what happened and was woken up by some loud rustling in the basement around 3am. Immediately I think, ah crap, the dogs got into the basement. When I went towards the steps the noise stopped as if whatever knew it had my attention. I unlocked the locked gate and went to see all my bags just as I left them. Nothing out of place, but I still thought it was my dogs so I looked everywhere for them.

Couldn't find them so I went upstairs and found them in my brother's room sleeping with him. Cue my goosebumps in fear because I just realized it couldn't have been my dogs. In the morning I tell my dad. He thinks it might be mice even though there are no signs of them anywhere. We set up traps for mice. That night the rustling happens again. I don't go to investigate, I just get off the couch and sleep on the floor in my brother's room because I didn't want to be alone. The following day I go and put all my clothes in the dresser and closet and get rid of the bags that the noise is coming from. The rustling stops and no rodents were caught in a few weeks. I got comfortable after a while with no activity and began sleeping on my bed again

in the basement. I was up late every night because I worked second shift, 2-10pm and played video games with friends until at least 2am very often. Cue the creepy stuff. Cupboards would creak open fully. One night when everyone in my house went out to eat, my desktop computer was pushed 80% off the desk down there and was hanging by the power cord when we got home. We cleansed the house with the help of my dad's sister. Activity throughout the summer ceased and I moved back to school in the fall. My other brother moved back in and was living in the basement. He claimed weird stuff and someone shaking his bed down there.

Whenever I go back he says the activity increases a lot down there. In November of this year I was staying at this spooky house for a job interview in that area. I was sleeping in my dad's bed because he was sleeping at his girlfriend's house and he knows I hate sleeping on the couch. I wake up in the morning to what felt like someone smacking the bed extremely hard and even made the noise. I tried to make sense of it but couldn't. I brought it up and my brother who was residing in the basement says it's a fairly common occurrence for him down there. I was just there for Christmas and was downstairs on my computer when I hear some rustling in the other corner of the basement. Lights were on and it was the middle of the day. Plus I am used to expecting things there so it didn't scare me. I have nightmares about my dad's house, specifically the basement closet, very often.

That's the only thing that affects me when I am elsewhere, until now. I am back at my house now for the first time since Christmas. I was woken up on my first night back by my lacrosse ball rolling against the floor, against the slant, so it came uphill and smacked the wall with some force below my bed. I know that sound because I roll my feet a lot with it and sometimes it escapes from me. I'm scared so I gather courage and turn on my light. I check under my bed and the ball isn't there. It's on the other side of the room where I left it. I don't think it was a dream because I heard the ball roll't there. It's on the other side of the room where I left it.

I don't think it was a dream because I heard the ball roll back a few inches from the force of hitting the wall after I was fully awake. I'm freaked out and wanted to share. I'm hoping whatever it is at my dad's doesn't follow me to my house. If anything else happens I'm going to cleanse everything that was in my dad's house that is now here and I'm hoping it was just another nightmare. My daughter, who's two and a half, woke up in the middle of the night at 3am, hungry. I prepared some oatmeal, fed it to her and then put her back to bed. She's sleeping together with my wife. Normally she talks a little bit and then doses off. I was preparing to go to bed as well then I heard some commotion coming from the bedroom.

I thought she was playing but she sounded a little bit more serious than usual and then I hear my wife calling for me. So I went to them and asked, what's going on honey? And my daughter said, daddy you need to help the floating little girl. While looking at the wall that's at the right side of the bed, I assumed that there was some kind of light reflection that was playing games on her imagination so I just turned the hallway light off and said, there, the little girl's gone, let's go back to sleep. But she was having none of it and kept on saying, daddy, what is that floating little girl doing? You need to help the floating little girl. At that point my wife started to freak out a little bit and clenched my hand. I just wanted to get back to sleep so I laid down near my daughter and said,

Hey floating little girl, it's night time now, you need to go to bed, you need to go to your home, please leave now. Then I turned to my daughter saying, There there, she left now, she's going to go to bed with her mommy as well. And then my daughter climbed on me and started saying loudly, little girl, I'm mad at you. Little girl, I'm mad at you. While focusing on a certain point near the wall area, I was holding her and I could feel her little heart beating really fast. She was saying all of this with real conviction and there was not an ounce of play in what she was doing. My wife was clenching my hand really tight and I could feel her nails getting buried into my skin.

I thought, what is doing this? And started saying, We're mad at you little girl. go home now, we want to sleep. That somehow calmed my daughter a little bit and she climbed on top of her mom and went back to sleep. I have no idea to this day what happened that night. I would consider this post more substantial than my last two, but let me start by saying that I've always been interested in the things that can't be explained by science or logic. Whether it's ghosts, poltergeists, aliens, or whatever. I definitely see myself as a skeptic, or did. But still, I find this subject fascinating.

I love watching ghost sighting videos and those top 10 scary thing compilations. Me and my girlfriend have been living together for almost 6 years in this one house, although we are planning on giving our tenancy notice in the next month. As a couple, we've experienced a lot of ups and downs while living there. Loss of family members, my granddad being the most recent last September. Bouts of depression and anxiety from both of us and lethargy mainly from myself during the last three years. We are usually happy bubbly people but for a long time now we've been fed up and generally a bit down in the dumps. And also for a long time we've been so desperate to get out of this house because it just seems to be draining us.

Whether that's because of a sort of cabin fever, being a small house, or something else, we don't know. There's a bit of background on us, and now for the parts you're here for. About six months ago we'd been watching some H3H3 on YouTube. Gotta love Ethan and Hila. My girlfriend fell asleep first as always and she can literally fall asleep mid-conversation, which I find strange, but hey. I got up to use the bathroom, then got into bed and fell asleep. I woke up suddenly at an unknown time, freezing cold with my girlfriend having claimed the covers. I was facing away from her, pulling the sheets back over to my side and she was pulling them back to her side. At first it was like subconscious half asleep sort of thing but then she dragged the

covers over so hard that it knocked my fists into my own nose making my eyes water. At the same time I heard a deep voice say, get off, really quickly. That was not my girlfriend's voice, so I immediately flipped over to see what her problem was. Nobody was there, not even my girlfriend. My heart nearly exploded and my stomach dropped. I was frozen in fear for what felt like hours. I knew this was real. I was awake and fully aware of what was going on. My girlfriend came into the room a minute or two later with a coffee then started to do her makeup routine for work so this must have been around 5 to 6am and I just lay there and somehow managed to fall back asleep. The next day I felt fine, almost like it never happened but my nose was killing me so I know it did. I found the contrast of feeling intense fear

a few hours earlier and then extreme calm upon waking quite strange considering what had happened. Nothing was mentioned to my girlfriend. A few strange things have happened between then and this incident but I'll just tell you this for now as it's one that I really can't shake. was mentioned to my girlfriend. A few strange things have happened between then and this incident but I'll just tell you this for now as it's one that I really can't shake. Three days ago I was sleeping and I was again woken up by this time. My girlfriend's face was less than an inch away from mine and she looked angry. In fact, she looked demented, wide-eyed, shaking and almost snarling. I very nearly crapped myself and jumped out of my skin and shouted,

What are you doing? She slowly moved away from me but never took her eyes off me. She climbed out of bed, walked around the bed and headed out of the room, all while staring at me with the most disturbing, angry, wide-eyed, scary face. Just as she was leaving the room her face slowly started to pull a sickening grin as if she had accomplished what she set out to do and then slammed the door so hard that it shook the house. I didn't dare go after her, no chance. I felt sick to my stomach and I had never been so scared in my life. That was not my girlfriend. She came back minutes later perfectly normal and asked if I was okay.

I couldn't speak to her so I went downstairs and just smoked like a chimney until I could get ready for work. Again, nothing has been mentioned to her. The second event here was by far the scariest, despite the first one involving invisible forces and voices. It was just so disturbing. Her face was so contorted it didn't look like her. Truly horrible. I even feel sick writing this now. Could my fascination with the paranormal have anything to do with this?

Please, I need answers. Hey friends, I need answers. and give and receive feedback from the community, and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. And if you want to support me even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon, and maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. Link's in the bio. Thanks so much, friends, and I'll see you again soon.