The Lets Read Podcast - 48: Episode 045 | Security Guard & Home Invader Stories | 28 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: September 30, 2019

Welcome to the forty 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 Security Guards, Hunted in the Woods & Home Invaders.  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  Update Description

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agreement with iGaming Ontario. My name is Victor Phillips and my purpose here is to simply share a scary story from my time in security. I have far more than the one story to tell but today I figured I would start with this particular one because of how it affected me the way in which I would approach my job for the next 15 years. I did actually begin my career in the Chicago Police Department fresh out of the academy, but the stress of policing some of the more violent areas of the city drove me to leave after only 7 years of service. At first, I considered moving to work in some little out-of-the-way place, but I eventually realized it was the feeling of always having to carry a gun that was what had caused me to leave, or so I thought. Therefore, I decided to move over to the area

of security where I was not required to carry a firearm, and almost immediately, the weight that I had been carrying on my shoulders for all those years seemed to disappear. I'm fully aware most of my fellows in law enforcement would see my career choice as a major step down but for me I felt the responsibility of possibly having to take someone's life weighing on me daily. Now I could still work in a position where I would be able to protect people without having to be armed while doing it. It seemed a win-win for me. Because of my prior experience, I was quickly put in charge of the night shift, guarding a high-rise office building.

The building was located in a quiet and once safe neighborhood in my hometown. I never liked Chicago in the first place, so leaving the force was a great opportunity to return home and be around my family and friends. This story occurred late on a Thursday night. I had been walking the female employees of the building to their cars and that was what I was busy doing when I ran into a career altering situation. Having just left the car of one employee I heard the sound of a man yelling at someone across the parking lot. A quick look around and I found the source of the racket.

It appeared to be a disheveled man attempting to rob a woman I knew who worked in the building. Without a second thought, I ran to help. Not until I was too close to turn around for assistance did I notice that the man was holding the poor lady at gunpoint. The attacker was at first taken aback by my presence but the second he realized I was unarmed he actually began laughing. He knew at that point he was in control and he took advantage of this by rushing me and clubbing me with the butt of his pistol until I apparently lost consciousness. It wasn't long before I came to, but it was long enough for him to make his escape with his victim's jewelry and money. Apparently, someone had witnessed the mess and called 911. After a few hours at the emergency room and a long night awake to reflect on the incident,

I was horribly overwhelmed by embarrassment and regret, but that wasn't the biggest realization. It had taken such a dangerous incident to make me understand that I was responsible not only for my own safety, but also for the people I had to protect. I know it sounds stupid of me to have just come to that conclusion, but I guess I had always thought I carried a gun to protect myself from bad people. Now it seems logical that I couldn't protect others if I wasn't at first safe. What can I say? I guess I can chalk it up to my youth, but perhaps I was nothing more than a selfish kid. Regardless of the reasons or cause, I knew I had a basic responsibility to carry a sidearm when on duty and so I have the past 15 years since and probably

will until my retirement. It wasn't until I had returned to work and began discussing how much my great hometown had changed with others did I discover how bad crime had gotten. There had always been a bad neighborhood and I'd wager most cities have one of their own but it had apparently began leaking out into the historically safe areas. This must have been what I bumped into that night. I can say with some amount of pride that in the years since then, the crime rate here has dropped drastically and I'd like to take some responsibility in causing that. After all, that epiphany I had all those years ago showed me that I would never be of any use to my community working as a security guard. So after giving my two weeks with my present employer at the time, I joined my hometown police force and have been

here doing my best to clean up my city ever since. Since an early age, my parents expended a lot of energy to make sure I believed that regardless of my gender, no one would be able to stand in the way of me achieving my goals. They often told me that working my hardest would be enough to get where I wanted to be and on those rare occasions when my fellow humans stood in the way of my dreams solely because of my gender, my hard work ethic would ensure my ultimate victory over their petty bigotry. Believe it or not, for the most part their corny affirmations proved to be true. I'm sure because of the time in which we are living, getting ahead on my own merit has been the norm and I'm nothing but pleased this

has been the case. Although I've heard stories and witnessed a few instances where other females have been held back just because of their sex, I myself have never been a victim of this behavior. At least, that was the case. Until six months ago when I began my new career in security. My work days became one long string of belittling statements and sexual insinuations. I'm aware in an earlier time in this country that it was an accepted part of being a female in a profession dominated by men to be treated as a sort of object. However, this is the 21st century now and I was sure this type of behavior had died out with my grandparents

generation, but it appeared as if though I've walked back in time to a place where this type of treatment is encouraged. Because of this, I was recently put in a position where I would come face to face with the result of telling this type of man no, and just how badly they dislike that word. Having just left a marriage of four years, I found myself in a place I'd never been before, having to support myself. Even though I'd gone to college and received a degree in secondary education, I'd marry my husband straight out of college. Him being an established doctor made it unnecessary for me to go to work immediately. We planned to have a couple of kids and I would stay at home with them until they began school,

then I would start working. While I'm sure this may sound a little old fashioned, neither of us wanted strangers raising our children. Unfortunately, we were destined to go childless and this fact quickly destroyed our marriage. Resigned to my fate, I chose a new path and moved forward eager to start a new chapter in my life. My first assignment with the company was at a newly built mall not far from my home. As you may imagine, being a mall cop isn't exactly a great way to make money, but I did it nonetheless. Early on, I thought my biggest problem would be the shoplifters, but it soon became clear my fellow employees would be far worse.

A day didn't go by that I wasn't asked out or hit on by one of the other male guards so soon after getting out of an unhappy relationship I was in no hurry to jump into the game again. Over time they all got the hint. All but one that is. His name was Ethan and despite the countless number of times I shot him down, he never seemed to lose hope. Even though he was never aggressive in his advances, I feared his adoration would morph into obsession eventually and that terrified me. After enduring months of his unwanted attention, I finally approached my boss and did not receive the reaction I expected.

Hey you should be happy someone is asking you out. You're not exactly the prettiest girl. I was so shocked that he had said this. I turned around and walked out without another word. I obviously wasn't going to get any help from him. Not before long my greatest fear came true. A car I didn't recognize began showing up across the street from my home. Since I had befriended my neighbors on the first day I moved in

I knew the car was not theirs. Just to make sure I wasn't being paranoid I went door to door asking my neighbors if they knew who owned the car, but none of them did. About the same time the car had shown up across the street, Ethan stopped talking to me at work. Other than asking questions pertaining to our job, he'd cease talking to me at all. At the time, I believed it was because our boss had spoken to him, but looking back, I can't believe I didn't put the two things together. But I'm still relatively young so I'll surely make mistakes.

Once I'd noticed the car sitting outside more than five times I went into a rage and ran over to confront the driver. Naturally they drove away before I could but I did finally file a complaint with the police. I knew that there was nothing they could do but I at least wanted to start a string of evidence so if I ever did discover the driver's identity it would be easier to get a restraining order against them. Around the sixth month at my job I had made the decision to begin dating again. I had run into an old friend of mine from high school that was now a cop in town. Since things at work were beginning to get better, I had no intention of mentioning Ethan and my mystery driver was the last thing on my mind. That night was going so well, I asked my date back to my place for a movie.

When we had first pulled into my driveway the coast was clear. Before we had even made it to my front door, the mystery car quickly appeared in its usual place. However, this time the driver jumped from the car and approached us. Of course it was Ethan, but at that time I was surprised it was him. Right away I could hear his curses from across the street. I thought you weren't interested in dating anyone but it appears you just thought you were too good for me. Who's this pretty boy? By the time he'd finished his tirade, he was almost face to face with Jack, my date. This was the most embarrassing situation I could imagine. I just wanted to crawl under a rock, but then the scene took a terrifying turn.

Ethan stood within mere feet of us, breathing heavily like an angry bull, and he held a gun in his right hand. He continued to stand, unmoving, staring and slowly becoming more and more angry. Unsure of what to do or how to act, I looked to Jack for some type of guidance. He proved to be the even-headed guy he'd always been and did his best to calm Ethan down. But the second he mentioned he was a cop, this made Ethan even angrier. Oh, I see. I always knew you were a badge bunny, but apparently security guards were never good

enough for you, huh? I guess seeing no other option, Jack tackled Ethan to the ground and went right for the gun. This was the point in which I was the most scared. Ethan was well over 6 foot and built like a linebacker and Jack was far smaller and lean but somehow he managed to get the upper hand. After several minutes of laying a steady whipping on Ethan, Jack put the gun in his waistband and stood up. He took a quick walk to his car watching Ethan the whole time and came back with some handcuffs. Once he had him locked up, he made a call to the dispatcher to get them to send a car and bring Ethan in. During the whole time this was all going on, I didn't dare say a word and it wasn't until Jack hung up his phone did I finally speak. I'm so sorry I got you into this mess.

I'll understand if you don't want to see me again. You ain't got nothing to be sorry about. I ain't got to whip anybody's butt like that in a long time. Although it would help to know what brought all this on. While we waited on the cruiser I explained the entire mess to him just as I have here and to my amazement he still didn't run away. In the following weeks I filed that restraining order against Ethan with help from Jack and an understanding judge. In addition to a beating he'll never forget, he was also sentenced to 18 months in the county jail. I hope, for his own good and of course mine, that when he's released he forgets about me and learns the true meaning of no when it comes from a woman. After all the stuff I'd gone through I finally realized the security business wasn't for me and went the direction I should have in the first place. Although I may only be a substitute teacher for now, I know with my desire to excel I'll get to where I want to be eventually. Lord knows why I didn't choose this path in the beginning, but I do know it's where

I belong. With Jack at my side I hope I may persevere in the one area I was unsuccessful but that's another story for another time. Keep me in your hearts and I hope one day soon to be able to share it with you all. As long as I can remember I've heard no end of stories about my granddad's years as a security guard. He started working for an armored car company, but soon realized the pay didn't equal to the dangers inherent in doing the job. So, after three years with the armored car people, he moved on to the First National Bank, then located in the heart of downtown. It being a family owned business, they did the best they could to pay a competitive wage to the employees, including my granddad. And over 20 years guarding the bank, there was just a few small problems for him to deal with and no attempted robberies, except one and that's the

story I plan to share with you all. I hope you enjoy it, but keep in mind it's the only story he ever only told once. As I go, I believe you may begin to see why. To the best of my memory, this incident took place around 1981. The only real reason I have for this date is because Grandad said it happened about 10 years after he began working for the bank and I do know for certain he joined them in 1971. So whether the date matters or not, this is when it took place. Regardless of date, the morning was an average work day. He just opened the doors a half hour before and was having a conversation with one of the regulars. Unbeknownst to him, a man had got the drop on him and gave him two quick whacks on the back of his head with his pistol.

He doesn't remember what happened after that until he came to a few minutes later. But since his co-workers were able to fill in the blank spots later, I can tell you how the rest of the story played out. Before the rest of those in the bank at the time knew what was going on, the attacker fired a shot in the air and yelled to everyone to get on the floor except for the bank employees. The customers did what they were told, and the robber quickly approached the bank manager covering him with his gun the whole time. Then he calmly instructed the manager to tell the tellers to empty their cash drawers and place the money on the counter in front of them.

Doing what he was told, the manager yelled out to the single cashier on duty to empty her drawer. Now this is where the calm bank robber lost his cool. Noticing that there was only one cashier on duty, he yelled at the manager and asked him where the rest of the cashiers were. Doing his best not to anger the robber more he reluctantly told him that it was usual for them to only have one cashier until the noon rush started. Frustrated and not knowing what to do the robber stood for a few seconds before he let out a growl of frustration and punched the manager in the gut and face. The other's presence, said the bank manager, folded like a deck of cards. For a moment, the robber stood over the body of the manager and pointed his gun at him as if though he was about to shoot him, but after a couple of moments he let out another yell of frustration and turned to the cashier's window. This was around the time granddad started to regain his wits. He said when he opened

his eyes he realized he was tucked away in a small nook out of sight from anyone. When he'd been attacked he was standing next to a cut out area at the end of the cash windows that usually held a large plant but since the plant had recently cash windows that usually held a large plant, but since the plant had recently died, the notch was empty. Apparently when he was knocked out, his body fell into the empty space, so for a few minutes he remained laying there, just listening to what was going on. Once he realized no one could see him, he decided he'd use that advantage to ambush the thief on his way out the door. At the time he told me this he acknowledged that it wasn't encouraged in policy to shoot a

thief who had not shot at him or others in the bank first. However he wagered that he'd have the support of his employers since he had been assaulted by the robber earlier and even if he wouldn't be he was mad about being pistol whipped and didn't really care anymore at the time what anyone thought about it. So, as quietly as he possibly could, he got to his knees and pulled out his pistol. Then all he could do was listen and wait. After beating the bank manager up and menacing him with his gun for a moment, the robber made his way to the sole open cash window to get the money that had been stacked there for him. As he approached the window, he pulled a large canvas back from a pocket of his coat

and began scooping the piles of cash into it. Grandad said that although he was unable to see what was happening at that moment, he had heard enough money being handed over the years to guess what was going on. He assumed once all the money was packed up that, barring any abnormal occurrences, the robber could make a break for it, and so he did. As the bank robber's footfalls grew closer to him and the door, Grandad said a sick feeling grew in his stomach, and he wasn't going to let fear get in his way of stopping the man. Right as the robber stepped into his view, the robber turned back toward everyone in the bank and told them that if anyone got up or followed him out of the door when he left,

he would come back in the bank and shoot everyone. Hearing this made my grand dad even more angry than he already was. So as the robber turned to the door to take the last four steps out to freedom, granddad raised his pistol and took a shot at him. He admitted that his hand was a tad shaky and as he pulled the trigger, he still managed to hit him in the left shoulder. The second the shot hit him, granddad said the robber turned toward him with a shocked look on his face but quickly got himself together and fired one shot back. As he took the shot, the robber bounded out the door. What the robber didn't know was the second he attacked my Grandad both the teller and the bank manager had pressed their silent alarm buttons.

Despite not being able to see the police outside, they were sure once the robber made it out, the cops would be there waiting. And they were indeed. Grandad told me as he laid on his back bleeding from his chest, not sure if he would survive. The sound of the cops gunning down the robber almost made it all worth it. Although it was hit or miss for a few days, granddad obviously pulled through. The robber's bullet had stuck in his left lung and ended up within millimeters from his spine. The damage to his lung surprisingly turned out to be the least of his problems. It was able to be repaired that evening but the doctors couldn't decide at first whether to remove the bullet because they feared either action could result in paralyzing him but they eventually took the

risk and removed it. He still can't find two doctors to this day that can agree whether the bullet would have moved into his spine or not but he's just happy he eventually was able to return to work. The saddest part of this story or maybe the funniest depending on your view is that the bank robber went through all that trouble to come away with only $1,500. I realize that $1,500 in 1981 was more than it is now but I can't ever see a time it was worth someone losing their life over. I don't know, maybe I'm spoiled. The sound Grandad heard as he laid there on that floor was indeed the sound of gunshots. The medical examiner report counted 44 in total,

but the chief of police made sure to show the media the bullet holes in the police cruiser that came from the robber's gun, all three of them. Like I said above, Grandad did return to the bank two months later and through the remaining years of his time there, he never had to fire his gun ever again. Although there was one time he came close while intervening in a very heated argument between a man and his mistress, but I'll save that story for another time. You guys let me know if you're

interested in hearing it. During the four years I attended college, I played a lot of poker. Over time, I became one of the best players in my school and then my state. By my senior year of school I thought I was one of the best players in the country and no one could tell me otherwise. I was so sure I was unbeatable that when I received my financial loan money for the year I took it all with me to a big game often attended by many of the best players in the state and lost almost all of it. Although I still had enough to start the year, I obviously wasn't going to make it through to graduation without finding

a way to get it back. Since I wasn't going to get the money from my parents, I had to do the one thing I'd been avoiding the last three years, get a job. For the first few days after the game, I had no idea where to go. I was still young and had very little experience in the workforce. To my shock I found my answer one morning in the library. The school had just posted a notice for a security guard that day and despite my initial misgivings I saw it as a sign so I headed to the security office to see what I would need to do to apply. Luckily, the head of the campus security was in his office and invited me in to talk. He was understandably reluctant to hire a student, but I did my best to make it clear that I was desperate and, after the one hour plus meeting, I came away with a job.

Not that I had a job, all I needed to do was find out how to be a security guard. I took the rest of the day and the next doing research. Something I look back on now is hilariously naive, but my first night of work I believe I had the job figured out. God, how I was young. My first shift was a Friday night. I was told to arrive an hour early so I could get my uniform and fill out paperwork. Once I had completed all of that I was thrown in at the deep end. Our first call was to one of the dorms where a female student was beating up on her boyfriend. My initial assumption was that she was the one who called, but when we got there, we could see for ourselves that he was the one who needed help. All we could do was separate them and tell them to stay away

from each other, but a week later I saw them on campus making out with each other, so it appeared to that he'd forgiven her. We barely had time to catch our breath before we had another call. All we knew at the time was that there was an argument outside of one of the frat houses just off campus. Despite the house not actually being on the campus grounds, they were part of our jurisdiction. When we showed up it was obvious no one was happy to see us, but after a little looking around we found who had made the call. When I came face to face with the petite and harmless looking girl little did I know in just a matter of minutes how much she'd make me wish I'd never seen her. From what we could gather the girl's boyfriend had caught her making out with one of the frat boys in a fight had broken out. Luckily some

bystanders separated the two guys but they were massive rugby players and drunk to boot. The air was still heavy with testosterone and the fight breaking out again was almost guaranteed. My boss figured it would be no problem for me to talk to the girl off to one side while he dealt with the guys. A few minutes of talking to the two guys my boss decided that since they were both drunk and had assaulted one another they may have to go to jail. Knowing now that he was just trying to scare them and prevent another fight did me no good then because the second the girl heard this she yelled no at the top of her lungs, smashed a 40 ounce bottle over my head and jumped on my back.

Why she attacked me I have no idea, maybe because I was closest but as I stumbled around on the verge of fainting, you do know how hard those bottles are right? Swatting at her and trying not to hurt her but still attempting to get her off of my back, the girl's boyfriend broke free and ran up and punched me. Of course the combination of the bottle and the punch caused me to drop. Naturally when I fell, the girl on my back fell to the ground too. Seeing this, for some reason the other guy broke free from the couple holding him and attacked the girl's boyfriend. As I slipped into unconsciousness, a mass of chaos grew around me. The next thing I can remember, a paramedic stood over me asking me questions while I cleaned the blood from my head. I was loaded on a stretcher and as I tried my best to take in the result of the melee,

I saw each of the guys sitting in the back of the police cars and a cop talking to my boss who was sporting a busted lip. I was unsure of what happened to the girl at the time but I was sure of one thing. I was quitting that job immediately. I spent that night in the hospital and was released around 9 the next morning. Despite having a splitting headache I went straight to the security office and told my boss I was quitting. He didn't bother to try to talk me out of it. He probably knew I wasn't right for the job and I did beg him for the job so I guess he decided to give me a chance. It turned out the girl had been arrested first and had been taken away before I was conscious.

He mentioned that the cops wanted to know if I wanted to press charges against her but I took the high road and declined. Honestly I just wanted to get the whole mess out of my mind as quickly as possible. Since I'd quit I was obviously back to square one but I decided to take the path I should have in the first place and hit the bricks. Finally after a week of going business to business asking for applications, I got hired on Add a Dollar Tree. As long as I didn't conflict with classes, I took every shift I could, even taking ones from anyone who had emergencies pop up. Doing this, along with the occasional card game, I managed to make it to graduation by the skin of my teeth. If you're looking for a moral to this story, there really isn't one. If you want to take

something away from my experience, I would say don't get involved in domestic arguments and, if you ever think of becoming a security guard, be sure you can handle it. Despite what most Americans think, it can be a hard job, and I respect everyone who does it. I'd have to be majorly out of touch not to be aware of society's overall attitude towards security guards. Names like Renekop are pervasive in our country. Not to mention movies like Paul Blart do our profession no good, but I can promise you, thousands every day, men and women both risk their lives to protect people and products from those who put their safety and security in danger. I'm here to share one such story with you all today. I began my career in security much like the majority of us do, with a private company.

Depending on the day, I may spend my time patrolling a strip mall or protecting a high-end jewelry store. This was my gig for 12 years until I was headhunted away by a 4 and 5 star hotel chain to run their security in one of their Florida locations. The chance to no longer have to pound the pavement was too good to pass up and I accepted the job right away. I initially had four guys working under me but I added one more guy within a month of getting there. For the most part the hotel was a quiet place so for me and my guards it was a low-stress environment. Things stayed relatively easy going for the first year. Don't get me wrong, it was by no means a utopia, because our location and reputation we tend to attract celebrities of all forms of entertainment looking to take a break from the constant peeping of the media. Occasionally we are faced with a star who mistakes our respect of his privacy as an excuse to take things too far. It was one particular entertainer's disgusting behavior that motivated me to share this tale with everyone here.

When I took the job as senior pencil pusher, I was well aware I would be sacrificing some of the more exciting aspects of the job for more money. So, that morning we got the call for backup from one of my guys. I jumped on it. Apparently, he answered a noise complaint from another guest and even after five straight minutes of knocking on the door, the only answer he received was the sounds of furniture and glass breaking. So, not sure what he was about to walk into, he called for backup. Once I arrived, we carefully entered, still announcing our presence the entire time. The room was now completely silent. As I peeked around the corner, I noticed the guest laying still on the bed surrounded by broken furniture. Figured he had worn himself out.

I told my guy we should check on him to make sure he didn't need the paramedics. As we calmly and confidently approached the bed he leapt up and pounced upon my employee. While he hung around his neck like a monkey he was screaming something about the CIA. My guard stumbled and dropped to the ground continuing to fight off his attacker. Almost as soon as he pounced on my guy, I was standing behind the guest, punching him in the kidneys, trying to get him off of my employee's back. What I wasn't aware of at first, because of where I was standing, was that he had been stabbing my guy with a steak knife, but once he fell to the ground, I could see his wounds. The guest was

trying to get back to his feet while still ranting but now had turned his crazy eyes onto me and raised his knife. As his arm came down I lifted mine and blocked his strike but nonetheless got slashed through the forearm. At this point I was fed up with this guy so I grabbed his knife hand and started punching him as hard as I could until he blacked out. He finally dropped after the 10th or 11th strike. He had to have been on something strong because he should have been knocked out way before that. I jumped up and grabbed a napkin from a room service tray and wrapped it around my arm to slow the blood. Once I'd kicked the guest off of my guy, I could check his wounds far better.

Even though I was afraid he had been poked full of holes, he only had two really bad wounds on his upper chest. I removed my shirt and used it to apply pressure until the paramedics arrived. They pashed him up temporarily and rushed him off to the ER. The cops cuffed the guest and the minute he came to, he went back to ranting and putting up a fight with the police for quite a while, but he left the hotel shackled from his ankles to his wrists with a few more injuries. It wasn't until the whole mess cooled down did I remember I had a cuddle my arm. I hoped I could get away with throwing a band-aid on it and go about my work, but once I had a good look at it, I knew it was a bit more serious. I was headed to the hospital anyway to check on my guy, so I stopped off and had them stitch it up once I discovered his condition.

To his family's joy and mine, the stab wounds were not life-threatening. Out of the six punctures, only the two were deep enough to cause any long-term damage if they had hit something vital, but since one was in his shoulder and the other just below it, in the upper chest, well away from his heart, other than a few weeks of pain, he would be fine. After two weeks of paid vacation, he returned to work almost as fit as before. Because of his place in society and his money he had to know he was going to get off with a slap on his wrist. His people managed to get the incident hushed up but I made sure that he was banned from staying at any of our hotels across the country. My guard Alan did walk away with a couple hundred thousand after the news he had contacted a lawyer reached the guest.

He's happy his son's college funds are taken care of for now but I doubt he'd tell you it was worth it. The incident did serve as a reminder that I'm not as strong or as tough as I used to be. So now I leave it to my guards to back each other up. I'd hate to be the reason one of my guys got hurt or killed because I didn't know when it was time to pass the torch on to someone younger and fitter. I understand now my number one priority is to ensure I have the best guys available to keep the guests of the hotel and my other employees safe from maniacs like the one I just told

you about. If that has become my place in life, I see it as the noblest one to hold and I am more than honored to be the man chosen to do it. Until recently my life was what I considered wonderful. However, in the last year, my marriage of ten years ended, and I've been unable to see my daughter since she left with my ex-wife when she moved to be closer to her parents. Considering my family life has just collapsed, I've begun focusing more on work. I've been working for a large private security company since 2005 and it's proved to be an enjoyable experience. Although most of my time with the company I've worked the graveyard shift, I've never seen or heard anything out of the ordinary occurring.

Things were appearing to go ahead as normal until a few nights ago when I saw something so horrifying I considered quitting my job right then and there. The following story is my best possible telling of what I experienced. I promise you, words cannot begin to describe how scary this all was. The two nights in question were strangely dark, black in an almost unworldly way. My employer had contracted me to work nights watching over a large pre-owned car lot that had recently been plagued with a rash of thefts. I was posted in a small building, maybe 8 by 10 in size. My theory is it once served as one of those photomat buildings where they

used to process photographs until they died out in the mid-80s. The building has enough room for a small desk to hold a laptop and a radio charging unit. At the desk, he sets a rolling office chair and the whole setup stands in front of a sliding drive-thru window. There's just enough space left for the door to open into it and no more. Despite it being rather cramped, I've been able to make it work. Most of my shift I sit at the table and browse through the internet. About every hour or so I step out to do my rounds of the lot. My jaunts around the property give me a chance to stretch my legs and enjoy the cool night air. An occasional run-in with some critter like an armadillo is the extent of my visitors and this is the way I've always liked it. This property, in spite of its prior

activities, had been an especially quiet one. I had been optimistic I'd get through the contract without any trouble from those who had caused me to be here in the first place, but after my experience of a few nights ago, I would much prefer to have to deal with thieves rather than him. A couple of nights ago, I believe it was a Monday, I'd been kicking back and watching an episode of an old podcast and drinking my fifth cup of coffee. The air in the shed was starting to get a bit stale, so I stood up to open the sliding window. Sitting down, I went back to watching the podcast. I'd had my laptop turned up about halfway, so I'd still be able to hear any noises in the area. As the show wrapped up,

I stood up again to get some circulation back into my legs. I was shaking out my legs when I heard a light scuffing noise like a dress shoe scraping across asphalt. Quickly I looked out the window and made eye contact with a man. This wasn't a regular man however. He stood around the same height as me and was wearing a dark blue windbreaker zipped all the way up. I couldn't see his pants at the time, but those don't matter. He just looked wrong. The only way I can describe it, the longer I looked at him, the more uncomfortable I grew. His face was a whitish, almost opaque color, but

it was his grin. God, that grin. His smile stretched across his face to an unholy extent. It was like he had grabbed at his mouth and pulled it almost to his earlobes. Despite my overwhelming desire to scream, I could not move. He stood frozen, only continuing to stare into my eyes. Although I was sure his grin could not grow any larger, he drew it up into a freakish half-moon shape and said just this, Hello there. The words slid slowly from his mouth as he said it. His voice was deep and full of a dark sort of glee.

As soon as the words ended, his thin lips snapped back into the maniacal grin he had when I first noticed him, and the terror had grown so strong, I began pawing at my mouth in an attempt to stifle the sobs that were creeping into my throat. Still unable to move and locked eye to eye with him, a glint of light flashed in his icy blue eyes. For some reason, this was the last straw for me, and the muffled sobs I had been trying so hard to stifle broke free and exploded into a full-blown wailing. Somehow, I was able to close my eyes, but the wailing continued for what seemed like hours, but surely was just minutes. My hands were now soaked with my tears, and I could feel my knees beginning to buckle. On the edge of hyperventilation, I dared to open my eyes and was relieved to see he was gone. Just like that, I dropped to the floor and continued to sob, but now in relief rather than terror. I was awakened by a loud banging. It took a moment

to get my wits about me before I realized where I was at. I jumped up and opened the door of the shed. The morning sun burned my eyes as I peered out at my boss. You've been asleep this whole time? I tried to get a hold of you on the phone multiple times but got nothing. One of the shop guys called me this morning and said your car was still in the parking lot when he showed up at 7.30. Are you okay? Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I explained that the night shift must have caught up with me and I fell asleep so hard I couldn't be roused. Although at first I expected him to be mad, he appeared to have just been concerned since I was usually off work and checking in with him by 6am or soon after. We'll get home and get some sleep. We have to sit on this place for at least the rest of the week and I

don't have anybody to take your place. When this contract wraps up just take a couple of weeks of vacation. You're too close to retirement to burn out now. I hadn't realized until he mentioned it that I hadn't taken any time off for over a year so I agreed and headed for home. Not until the drive home did I remember what had happened the night before. Despite it seeming so real there was no way that it was any more than an awful nightmare. I've had them a few times, never quite as vivid as that but my logically bent mind wouldn't let me believe that he was real. Even after all the sleep I'd had that night I was still abnormally tired and managed to sleep the whole of the day and into the evening waking up with barely enough time to get to work. However after a few cups of coffee I was back to normal

and on high alert. That night's shift was quiet as usual until around 1.15 when I noticed a dark late model truck pass the shed a couple of times. Suspicious, I stepped out of the shed and walked a few feet toward the road. No more than a minute later the same truck appeared again and approached the lot, this time driving very slowly. As I got near, the truck came to a complete stop in front of me. It sat there mere seconds before speeding off. After that, I never saw them again. If I was willing to bet, the people in that truck were the reason I'd been hired to do this job. Hopefully, knowing security is watching the lot at night now will give them second thoughts about coming back in the future. I stood there

waiting for them to come back for around 10 minutes before I gave up and went back into the shack. A couple of hours went by before I decided I should take a walk around the lot and make sure my friends in the truck hadn't come back. I picked up my phone and stuck the keys in my pocket as I opened the door. When I looked up, I came eye to eye with the smiling man. Close up, his inhuman grin was even more horrible and unnatural. Once again, I was frozen in fear. As we stood staring at each other, the terror inside me grew and my obvious discomfort made his grin spread wider and wider. Then, just as before, the massive hole opened and let out a deep, breathy voice. Hello, my friend. His words had the laughing timber of a madman, and every second I was in his presence, my psyche continued to crumble.

The unnatural blue glint in his eyes conveyed the boundless joy he felt as I mentally collapsed in front of him. In order to make one final attempt at unraveling me completely, he slowly extended his right arm toward me, moving ever so slowly. My breathing grew quicker. The thought of this freak touching me was driving me mad. At this point I was already a sobbing mess but right before his slender claw touched me, a guttural and primal scream burst from my throat and I fell back into the shed. Instinctively, I slammed the door closed and locked the deadbolt. I quickly crawled under the desk and covered my head. Although I couldn't see him, I could hear him just above me staring through the sliding window.

At some point in the night, I could hear the scuffing sound of his shoes as he walked away. Just like the night prior, I stayed curled up into a ball, this time under the table quietly sobbing until dawn. As the first rays of sun peered into the little shed, I timidly crawled from under the table and peeked out of the window to ensure the ghoul was truly gone. Once I was sure, I grabbed my things and ran to my car. I drove directly to our office and demanded the boss take me off the job. He said nothing at first, just staring for a moment. I can imagine my appearance was shocking. I'd spent the night huddled under a table bawling like a frightened child, but essentially that's what I'd been. Somehow, that horribly distorted man had an unworldly power over me, a power I could neither explain nor understand.

Waiting for my boss to answer, I stood before him impatiently. Please, sit down and relax. His words were blunt and commanding, but I continued standing unwilling to move, but when he pointed to a chair next to me, I relented and sat. Once I had sat, his expression changed to one of concern and he asked me what was wrong with me. Confident that he would never understand the terror of the situation, I said nothing other than there were some weird things happening around the car lot and it was freaking me out. I did however make it out to sound as if though I was possibly just worn out like he had suggested the morning prior. Once again he sat silent for a minute and stared at me with a look of indecision.

Okay, here's what we're going to do. You're going to take a few weeks off. I don't want you to do anything other than sleep and lay out in the sun. When the two weeks are over, you're going to come back, work days for a while. When I say a while, I mean a long while. You've been working nights for far too long. Humans need sun and sleep to function especially at your age. I'll say yes sir and I'll stick you on a desk until you retire. Initially I felt a pang of disgust at how he summed it all up to something so stupid but I'd gotten what I wanted.

Although I hated working days, it reduced my chances of ever having to come face to face with that man again. So I agreed and drove home. So it's Thursday afternoon and we're back to the present time. Now that my story has been told, I want to make one thing very clear before moving ahead. Now and never have I believed the smiling man to be some kind of supernatural entity. Those type of things belong in the world of fantasy and science fiction, believe me.

No, that man is most certainly a living human being that eats and breathes just like the rest of us and that's what makes his existence all the more horrifying. Someone like him, whether they are merely disfigured and mad or something far worse we have yet to comprehend, cannot be disregarded like any sensible member of society can disregard a ghost or brain-eating zombie. We are forced by matter of chance to suffer the horror of his ungodly image and what, if any, power he has to push your sanity to the breaking point. As far as my life moving forward, I hope to soon see the beautiful face of my daughter and be able to, no matter how briefly, take my mind away from the terrible visage that haunts me

day and night. I also pray to God that upon returning to work I will never be subjugated to such a terrible experience again. I have now had my say but I want to leave you with one simple piece of advice. If you are ever out at night and come upon a tall and thin man with pasty pale skin and a freakishly large grin, don't look him in the eyes and run away as fast as possible. I can assure you, he's someone you will never want to meet. Despite my reservations, I think it's important for me to share this story with all of you who I've spent so much of my free time in the past three years with. Many of those around here may be aware that I have recently become a security guard at our local high school. What you may not know is that we recently had an incident there and since then I have begun to rethink my decision about my future. Thus this is why I'm posting the actual story of what

occurred and will be asking everyone their opinion of what I should do going forward. Now that we're done with formalities I'll let you all in on what happened. Those of you who don't know the background of what led me to taking this job, I'll take a brief moment to catch you all up before I get to my account of the incident. I'm a recent graduate of our nearby junior college and although I did leave with a bachelor's degree, my town's police department is not taking any applicants at present. Since I have no desire to move elsewhere, I figured I should get a job doing something very similar to law enforcement at least until I can get on with my local PD. Here's where my buddy Rob stepped up and got me a job doing security at our old high school.

Since he's the vice principal there, he used his small amount of influence with the school district and got me hired. The chance to get paid to relive my old school memories made it much more than just some run-of-the-mill rent-a-cop job for me. If anything, it could provide me with a little experience dealing with and solving problems, a thing I have been told often is the key to becoming a great beat cop. Well then, now that everybody's caught up, I'll get to the reason I'm here and why it's causing me some problems. Most of my morning is spent at one of the metal detectors posted at each of the main entrances of the building. For the most part, this particular task is uneventful. We do have the occasional kid attempt to sneak in a pocket knife, but this usually ends up being a mistake and we confiscate it.

The child may get detention, but more often than not, they are let off with a warning after a rage-laden call from their parents. Since I was an absent-minded boy at the time, this seems fair. I see no need to ruin a kid's future because of a small mistake. Anyhow, my thoughts on punishment aside, the rest of my shift may be taken up with patrolling the parking lot or escorting some student to the office. Considering I'm the rookie of the team, I'm often given the less glamorous tasks. One of these is checking the area out behind the old machine shop for smokers. Since I was a member of this crowd during my time at the school, I didn't really enjoy busting the new generation, but I do it anyway. I was returning

from this said task with a couple of students in tow when I ran head first into the biggest test of my young life. At the same time I was looking for kids sneaking a smoke, one of the old guards, Cliff, who just happened to be a retired police officer, was searching the school for a freshman who had disappeared about an hour earlier from his math class. I was fairly positive that one of my smokers was the kid he was looking for. Not far from the office, the roar of gunshots came from the opposite end of the hall. Pointing at the office not far from where we were standing, I hurriedly yelled at the boys to go ahead and I ran as fast as I could towards the shots. I'm well aware that this was a stupid thing to do, especially being unarmed, but this was part of my job.

Cliff was the only one of us with a gun and I knew he had just been in that area. Barely halfway down the hall I saw Cliff coming out of a janitor's closet and he continued walking toward me, but he didn't appear to see me. As I grew closer I noticed a look of shock frozen on his face. I approached him and asked if he had heard the shots, but he didn't answer. He continued walking away, only pointing at the closet. I yelled at him to get his attention, but this proved to be useless, so I swallowed the lump in my throat and slowly opened the closet door. As happens in such times, the door creaked loudly as it opened. Once it was about one-fourth of the way open,

I peeked around the edge of the frame and saw the body of a boy laying on the floor. This shocked me at first, but I quickly pulled myself together and craned my head further into the room. This is when I noticed a revolver laying in the pool of blood slowly growing about his body. I summoned up my courage and entered the closet to get a better look. Looking down upon the boy's body, I realized that this was the kid that had gone missing from his class earlier. Not wanting to mess up any evidence, I reached out over him, the whole time supporting myself on the wall and checking his pulse. There wasn't one. So making one more quick scan around the closet, I walked gingerly out the door. On my way out, I did notice a blue backpack wide open in the sink. I can only assume this was where he had kept the gun the

whole morning and this closet was the place he had been hiding in. God knows what he was planning on doing once he left that closet. Despite him only being a 14 year old kid, I'm glad Cliff stopped him before he had the chance to start it. When I closed the door behind me I made a call on my radio to the front office and told them to call the police. By this time the other guard had arrived on the scene so I asked him to watch the door until the police arrived. Cliff was still walking like a zombie down the hall heading who knows where so I jogged up to him and put my arms around him in an attempt to comfort him. The shock was still fixed on his face and the only words he spoke to me were,

he wouldn't drop it. I don't know. He was just a boy. I steered him towards the office and sat next to him on some chairs just inside the door. Once the police had spoken to him, one of the officers drove Cliff home and, from the way it looks, he won't be coming back to work. Shooting the kid, regardless of the circumstances, has messed him up. Everyone is almost positive that no charges will be filed against him. That little punk would have killed unknown amounts of people if Cliff hadn't stepped in and I haven't met a single person who doesn't support what he did. Almost at once, the search for how the kid got the gun into the school began. After a week of investigating, it was decided that he had probably entered through the service entrance coming from the machine shop, the very same door I had used later that morning to catch the kids smoking.

We discovered that there was a screw sticking in the door jamb that prevented the door from locking automatically. Somehow this student had discovered this flaw in the lock and used this as a path to sneak in the gun. No other door lacked a metal detector so this had to be it. In the weeks since this incident I had had a lot of time to think about what went down that day and this has created several questions and concerns in my mind. Ever since I was five I've wanted to be a cop. It's all I ever dreamed of but now I don't know if I've got what it takes. Seeing that dead kid on the floor scared the life out of me and seeing Cliff's reaction, a 25 year veteran, shooting him made me even more terrified. After loads of thinking I don't think I could kill another person, especially a kid or anyone for that matter.

Considering the ever increasing instances of shootings, there's a much higher possibility that I may have to pull the trigger on a young person in the future if I do choose to pursue this dream. I guess it's painfully obvious that I'm in need of some guidance here. I'm willing to listen to every suggestion and idea. Maybe I was never cut out to be a cop or I'm simply a coward. Let me know what each of you think or what you would do if you were in my position. Any little thought or idea may help. Years ago when I was still a teenager my friend Justin and I would go long boarding at night as my friends and I were quite the night owls.

We loved the freedom of almost never seeing another soul on the roads or the paths we frequented. Even when using main roads it would be very rare to see a car out so late in such a rural area and you could see and hear them coming from very far away due to their headlights and the noise of the vehicle disrupting the peaceful silence of the night. We were really into it at the time and would often ride our boards for miles and miles, sometimes not arriving home until the sun was up. One particular night we decided to ride a few miles away from our usual back roads to take one of our favorite hidden routes. It began with a narrow paved path that was the only piece of land separating two sides of a long lake. It would often sink under due to rain and we wanted

to seize the opportunity to use it before it rained and went underwater again. It was roughly two miles long and was extremely relaxing to ride through due to the scenery. After making it to the end of the lake we decided to continue moving and turn into a very close path that leads directly into a densely wooded wilderness preservation. As we come up to the first hill, we look down at the bottom into the blackness. We both noticed what appeared to be a tiny moving ball of dim light down there. It moved so strangely and it was extremely difficult to make out what it was. Rather than shine our flashlight down, we curiously watched it for a few moments, whispering to each other about what it could possibly be.

All at once, that small light turned into multiple blinding lights and extremely loud revving sounds, overwhelming our senses that had become accustomed to the dark and silence. Acting purely on fear, we instantly turned around and ran as fast as we could Hearing yelling and revving gaining behind us By sheer luck we managed to run off the path into a very dark Very overgrown hole in the side of the hill overlooking where we had just come from We decided to hide in the natural dugout of this hill Hoping the plants and darkness would be enough to protect us from whatever was happening out there. We watched our pursuers ride up to where we had originally been standing. There were four men, two on four-wheelers and two on full-sized motorcycles. They were yelling at each other about something, but we couldn't make out what they were saying due to the distance we

had covered. We felt safe enough to whisper very softly to each other and speculated who these people could be. Our first thought was they might be park rangers of some kind, although we had never seen one here in the many years we had been through and honestly, we doubted that this county had this budget or even the desire to have anyone patrol the deep woods at night. Besides that, these men were on vehicles entirely inappropriate for the paved bike trails and they were very angry about something. They called out to us for a while, yelling things like We know you're out there and we can see you, come on out.

We stayed silent and decided to call their bluff instead of running. Eventually we heard one of the men yell, Find them now, and smash a bottle. That had erased any hope we had that these were just park rangers. We watched them split up, each of them going a different way down the series of paths on their vehicles, including the path we came from. It took us what felt like ages to even move. We were frozen in terror inside that dugout watching the lights from the vehicles travel through the woods and paths one of them already coming full circle and passing the point he started from.

I thought about calling for help but I was too afraid to open my phone and fear that even the smallest amount of light would give away our location. After waiting for the lights of the vehicles to reach their farthest distance yet, we finally summoned the nerve to get up and try to run somewhere far enough for these people to safely make a call. We ran as hard and fast as we could through the woods. Since their headlights gave away their location on these paths, we would hide again whenever we felt that they were getting too close Our available hiding spots were getting progressively worse as the woods became less dense And the fear I felt waiting for one of them to drive past us while basically only being covered in leaves and plants may still be unmatched to this day Finally, we emerged from the woods onto the intersection

of two main roads far from where we started. We ducked down into the ditch to call for help. When I opened my phone, I noticed I had recently missed calls from one of our other friends, Connor, who was supposed to meet up with us on our longboard excursion. I called him and frantically asked where he was. Luck was with us again. He hadn't given up on our plans despite us ignoring him and was only a few miles away already heading in our direction. I gave him the names of the two streets we were near the corner of and explained that we needed to be picked up right away. He agreed to speed over to us while Justin and I waited in hiding. Thankfully Connor arrived before any of those men did. We bolted into the back seats of his car, yelling for him to get out of there and he took off. Relief doesn't begin to describe what I felt

safely driving home after everything I had just experienced. After explaining everything that happened to Connor we ended up just moving on with our night and decided not to call the police. We figured they would be gone by the time any officer made it out there and that we would only be putting ourselves at risk by admitting to breaking the law by taking those paths so late at night. I still have no idea what happened or who those people were. I've been told all kinds of theories from friends and family that have heard this story. Some think we walked right up into a huge drug deal. Justin and I later admitted to each other that when the revving started and we couldn't

see, our minds both went straight to chainsaw-wielding horror movie serial killer, so I suppose it could have been much worse. Frustratingly enough, whatever those men thought we saw that made them want to catch us so badly, we never actually saw. We'll never really know, I suppose. I live in a small city not too far from Edmonton and recently there's been a series of armed robberies happening in and around the area. It made me wary about walking alone at night so I found myself home at night more often than usual. It's not the worst, but I dislike having this feeling of unease. But I manage and make do. Today, my dad and his girlfriend were invited to go out to a party, meaning I had the whole house to myself.

I pretty much had the evening planned out, watched some episodes of my favorite soap opera, then switched over to some classic horror films. So I said bye to them as they left and quickly loaded up the TV. It's not long after I had started up the horror movie that I heard a knock at the door. It wasn't a regular knocking. If my TV had been any louder I probably wouldn't have been able to hear it. Thinking it was nothing at first I went over to the door without pausing the movie just to confirm.

But to my surprise there was someone at the door. I opened the door and there stood a slim man. Looked to be in his mid-thirties and that's all I can pretty much say. I'm not the best when it comes to describing people and I didn't really go out of my way to analyze him at that moment. I couldn't even tell you if his jacket was grey or black. The man said he represented a security company and was going around my area to offer his company services. He asked if the owner of the house was home, to which I told him no and that he would not be home until late.

He then began giving me some quick information about his company, that it was the only one that was locally funded and that it's already being used in several homes in my street and that it's smart device friendly. He even showed me a laminated piece of paper that displayed all the different devices that could work with the security system. I told him that we weren't interested in having a security system at this time. He proceeded to ask if my family leaves the house for long trips, which would be a great reason to get this security system. Looking back now, this was a huge red flag, but I answered honestly that the house was almost never empty and that we never really went on trips. I also added that he could speak to my dad tomorrow if he was coming back. He told me his team would be leaving to another city tomorrow, thanked me for my time and then left. I went back to my movie and pretty much forgot about the visitor. Movie finishes and

I decide to check my Facebook to glance the buy and sells. Near the top of my feed is a shared post that caught my eye immediately. What I read next made me completely freeze up. It was from a woman who also talked to a representative from the exact security company I had been advertised. This guy knocked on her door softly too which immediately caught my attention. She noted how the guy never gave his name or business card, something I didn't even realize happened for me until I thought back on it. Overall, she was very suspicious of the guy, so she asked that he wait outside as she got a pen

and paper to write down his phone number. When she returned, he was gone. The next door neighbor told her that they saw the man running down the road and into an alley. But the biggest fact this woman dropped? She contacted the security company. It does actually exist, and they told her that they didn't send anyone out to this city to go door to door. This shared post is blowing up, and it seems that it occurred to a lot more people than just me. Some people even showed video from their security cameras of these employees. There's definitely more than one person pretending to work for this company, one even being a woman, and a lot of strange activity being reported.

One person going into the backyard without permission, another person standing in front of the house like they're scoping it out. Knowing all of this now, it makes the entire encounter with that guy at my door terrifying. Was he scoping my house too? Would he have tried something if I didn't answer? I also wonder, was he hesitant to try anything because I didn't pause my movie for all he knew I could have had a friend over luckily nothing suspicious happened for the rest of the night but I will be extremely cautious from now on

if there's one thing I would advise be suspicious of anyone you don't know that comes to your house just because someone says they work for a company doesn't make it true. You don't know who they are or what they might actually want from you. Three years ago I met, who is now my best friend, Kay through working in a restaurant. We immediately found that we had similar interests. Oh, you're a girl that likes gaming? Word, let's hang out. We were about 21 and 22 at the time.

Fast forward to our first day hanging out outside of work. We go to a brewery downtown because we shared the similar craving for this thing on the menu called crack fries. They're seasoned to absolute perfection and tossed in truffle oil. Would recommend 10 out of 10. We had some beers, talked about school, and eventually decided to check out what events were going on in the park circle downtown while we sobered up. The park circle had different events going on throughout the week. Swing dancing on Tuesdays, jazz on Wednesdays. It was Wednesday and I wanted to check if the jazz event was in season.

Ah, shoot. I glanced to the circle to what appeared to be a church event. It's not for another month. The church event was playing this chill and ambient instrumental music. The weather finally crept its way up to 70 degrees and sunny. We decided to stay, pitch up a hammock, and enjoy the artsy musical culture our city holds in the park circle. Kay had never hammocked before or seen the events in the circle so I was pretty stoked to share what would be a new experience for her. We're facing each other, sharing stories from our past, tugging at the ropes to rock the

hammock back and forth. It's a great first friend date. We're laughing, just two peas in a pod looking up at the finally blue sky of springtime, watching the sunlight flitter through the treetops overhead, until the greasy, cracked out face of a man hovers into our vision. Looks like fun. Mind if I join you? He uninvitedly plops his backpack against the tree holding our hammock strap. Uh, we exchange an unsettled glance and immediately set upright to face the man. It's broad daylight and homeless people sometimes meander towards the circle and sat under the shaded trees to just hang out Some ask for money but most kept to themselves

Nothing out of the ordinary I was kind of creeped out by the guy but didn't think much of it because I'm used to interactions with homeless people My mother was homeless so I guess you could say I have a soft spot for having a conversation about their life, not giving them money, maybe offering a cigarette and leaving it at that. Kay hasn't had that experience so she keeps glancing back at me for some support of what we should do. The guy decides that he's welcome, cracks open a 40 in a crinkled paper bag and takes a few swigs. He extends his can to offer us some. We decline and ask him what he's doing. Just seeing what's going on downtown. Noticed a large group down there.

He points a dirty stub of a fingernail out to the circle. Saw you set up and thought this swingy thing looked cool. I already considered saying oh we were just leaving but he watched us set up. Getting up and packing up now after being there only 10 to 20 minutes only would indicate fear. Kay raises an eyebrow at me. I'm fairly new to the whole hammocking thing so I'm trying to quickly devise how to casually grab my hammock. What excuse sounds most believable to make an exit and get right out of there. He gives the typical creeper interview questions. Where are you from? What are you doing? We give him short replies hoping maybe he'll take a hint and go bother somebody else. He only gets closer.

What's this? He starts rocking a hammock. Kay's eyes cut into mine with panic. A hammock? Where do you buy them? Thinking about getting one of my own. Maybe this guy genuinely wants to buy a hammock and is socially inept, not realizing rocking two girls in a hammock is incredibly creepy.

I look down to the circle. Everyone's just doing their church thing. I look towards the walking paths that spire out from the circle. I give passerbys a wide-eyed look of, please help us. They exchange this same look of, well, that's creepy, sucks to be you girls, and continue walking. I look to the other side of the road and see a strange construction van pull up, the plate obscured. There was no business information on the side, but then again, my uncle drives a similar van for work. I expect to see a construction worker come out but it's a man dressed in a business casual talking on a cell phone. We'll call him BC for business casual guy. The homeless

man nods his head at BC who starts slowly and casually making his way towards us while maintaining his conversation. BC is speaking in a different language. I assume it's Hindi because I had a friend, Andrea, who grew up half Indian with her native speaking grandma and her father. By her family's interactions I could usually tell when something serious was going down. Family, money issues, etc. Sometimes I'd pick up small words in their conversations and try to understand what they meant. I was studying French in college at the time and learned that once you study a language it can become pretty universal. You don't understand just that language, you can pick up on similar sounding vowels and words which hold a pretty similar meaning. From that you can kind of decipher a translation. From BC's body language and words, how he kept looking towards us with purgatory eyes,

I felt completely hollowed out. And then the feeling of a lead weight sank in my chest when I heard him say, Doe la doc. In a Hindi to French to English conversion that my brain puzzled together, Doe is similar to do do is similar to to. Ladakh, rest of word cut out, was pronounced in a way that reminded me of what Andrea's grandma called us when we were in middle school before she translated her broken English and said girls. BC discreetly motioned towards us. I take out my cell phone and bring up an old text, pretending I just got it.

Hey Kay, looks like Chris and Jordan are here. They're looking for us right now. I throw my body off the hammock, unclip it from the loop and swiftly pull the hammock straps from the tree. Kay never took a hammock down before but learned very quickly. We threw the jumbled heap of hammock and its straps in my backpack and the homeless man calls after. Where are you going? We swiveled into a crowd of people and when I turn I see the homeless man in BC speaking motioning angrily back towards us. We scramble through the crowds of people and down a few side streets until we're out of sight. Later we tell my aunt and uncle when we get to my house. By the way this is my friend Kay and

here's what happened. My aunt's eyes are cold and she tells us that trafficking and abductions of young women have been on the rise in our city. Pulling women into vans from the side of the road or using markers of objects or people to indicate targets. We were a very visible target, sitting nearby a street in a highlighter yellow hammock. Now to the creepy business casual do driving a work van and homeless guy who probably scored in natural ice for keeping us distracted. Nice try. So this happened two years ago this summer. I was 16 turning 17 soon.

At the time I had a babysitting gig for the summer, a job at the local gym by my house and walked everywhere in my town as I did not have my license yet. In general it is a small safe town in California. This day started off like normal, me walking to the kids house, the mom going over instructions for the day. She liked having me do activities with the kids in town like swimming, going to the park, just generally being active and not hanging around the house all day. She liked having me do activities with the kids in town like swimming, going to the park, just generally being active and not hanging around the house all day. On this day I took them on a long walk and then we stopped at a subway for lunch around 1pm. As we were finishing their mom texted me and said that she was done with work early and said I could meet her a few stores down

at Starbucks. We walked down and I dropped the kids off with her, ordered a drink and left around 2.30pm. I began walking to a park about 3 fourths of a mile to one mile away to meet with another mom I was going to potentially babysit for as well. About a block down from Starbucks there is a Safeway. Right as I began passing Safeway's parking lot, a guy flung his door open and hopped out of his car parked above the sidewalk. This guy looked to be about late 20s, maybe early 30s, taller than me, about 5'11", 6 foot, and messy hair with a thick beard. He flagged me down and said, Hey, I'm new in town. Now, like I stated, this is normally a safe town, the kind you would want to raise a family in or retire in at first. I didn't want

to be rude, so I said, oh, cool. No red flags were going off yet. As being a naive 16-year-old girl, I figured that it was safe to be friendly for a couple of seconds and keep going on my way because of where I live. Then he abruptly asked Since I'm new here and don't know anyone yet and you seem like a nice girl wanna hop in and show me around? Red flag number one. I quickly replied

Sorry, can't do that for you, I'm busy. I figured he would take the hint. He says, come on now, I'm not a creep, I'm like 29. How old are you, 18, 19? And began looking around us and fidgeting with his hands in pockets. Red flag number two. No, I'm sorry, I'm 17. You can go find some people your age down that street over there.

I lied about my age because I was getting nervous at this point and didn't want to give him my actual age. Also, I was really hoping he would take the hint when I pointed him in the direction of the bars down the street I pointed to people his own age to talk to. He stuttered and said, Actually, I'm 20. I was just kidding about being older. He laughed and looked around again. Come on, just get in the car. It'll be fun. I'm not that much older. His voice took a more serious and persistent tone. Red flag number three.

At this point, I felt really scared and just wanted to get away from him so I quickly shook my head and began walking away. I looked behind me to see if he was following me only to see him getting in his car. I felt relieved and thought pretty stupidly that he was going down the street. A girl probably a couple years older than me, caught up to me to check on me as she had witnessed and heard everything. She asked if I needed help and if I wanted to call the police. I said thanks but I shook him so I'll be fine. I appreciated her looking out for me but I did not feel that I was in danger anymore. I still kicked myself for not calling the police when she had offered. After passing a gas station, I saw his car come flying down the next street. He stopped in the middle of the crosswalk, blocking me from crossing. He rolled down his

window and began harassing me. Hey girl, when you turn 18, huh? When you turn 18? Come on, we're gonna have some fun, girl. We don't need to wait till you're 18. You can just come with me now the street then back on the sidewalk on the other side and ran down the sidewalk. I looked behind me to see him speeding in the other direction. I slowed down again and called my mom. I told her everything that had just happened and she insisted on picking me up and driving me to my destination. I agreed. So when I'm at the stoplight just under a fourth a mile away from the park, I see him driving down the street again. He drove by me slowly, still wearing that sickening grin and winking at me before speeding off again. I called my mom, freaking out. So of course, after she picked me up, we called the police on the way to the park.

The police officer pulled in right around the same time as us at the park. So I got out of the car to go give my statement on what had happened and give a description of the man in this car. He also asked if I managed to get a license plate number. Unfortunately I only got the first few numbers and letters and not the whole plate. He informed me and my mother that he would be going back to the station to file a report. Against the officer and my mom's suggestions I stayed at the park as I did not want to make a bad impression on someone I was potentially babysitting for. She arrived after my mom and the officer left. Immediately after the interview I

had my dad pick me up because there was no way I was walking home the officer contacted me later that night saying that I got a potential match for the vehicle I described with the partial plate number I gave them however nothing ever came of it since the incident I've been carrying self-defense items, pepper spray on my keychain. I'd rather leave my house without something to protect myself. After I got my license, I haven't been walking around town that much. Even if I'm with my friends or boyfriend. Which is sad because it is a beautiful town.

I'm now 18 years old and I'm still haunted by what had happened. Whenever I see a similar car or a similar guy, I panic a little, even in the safety of my own car. To this day I honestly don't know what I was thinking every time I thought he was gone for sure. I guess part of me was really me when I was pretty young. It's not as scary as other things on here, but I still think about it now, maybe 16 years later. I was on my way home from elementary school. I don't know exactly how old I was, but I know I didn't have a cell cell phone yet which puts me at about 11 or under, probably a couple of years younger. My class had ended very early that day, something I was very happy about. I always liked to be alone as

a child and not having to share the whole house with my parents or several siblings even for a couple of hours was very exciting for me. However, because of this, I was completely alone on my way home for a while. When the car first showed up I was already on edge. I was on the midway point on my journey home which meant I was right by the abandoned house my older siblings had told me was haunted. I was always afraid of suddenly spotting a face in one of the dark windows or something and I kept an eye out for anything just in case. So when a car I'd never seen before suddenly sped past me down the hill I was climbing, I jumped. This is an area of very steep hills, you can't see past them so it's too dangerous to drive that fast. I felt unsafe for a second before riding it off as nothing before the same car sped up the hill again.

I thought it was funny at first, imagining the person in the car had sped off in a hurry, but had to turn right back around because of something forgotten. When the car came back down again, it drove a lot slower, until it got to me, and then drove a lot slower, creeping past me at a snail's pace. I didn't look at the person driving not wanting to be rude. Once it was about a meter away from me it drove fast again. It threw me off but I decided not to worry about it. Maybe the person driving just really wanted to make sure they wouldn't hit me with their car.

I had only gotten a little further before it was back again. Slow again this time when it got close to me and speeding up once it had passed me, even though I was almost in a ditch trying to stay out of the road. I was definitely spooked now. In my short life, this has never happened to me before. Was this some sort of strange adult showing me some kind of interest? And why? If this person needed directions he would have asked by now, right? I could not come up with an explanation for this behavior unless this adult had some bad

intent. But I felt bad for just assuming that of a stranger. When the car came towards me once more I got my first look at this person. A man, very overweight, bald but wearing a baseball cap. He had small sunglasses on his face that somehow hid his entire expression. Stubble, a white t-shirt with blue or black decals on it. For a split second I thought it was the father of a friend of mine, another very large man. But my friend's father sported a full beard and never dressed like that. He also kind of looked like a distant uncle of mine so I half-heartedly decided that was the case and tried to smile at him once he started creeping slowly by me. No reaction of his face that I could see. He had his glasses on.

He didn't stop. Didn't open his window to say hi. Didn't acknowledge me at all. Just drove by so, so slowly until he passed me and sped up. I still could not justify this behavior in my head. I mean, what did he want from me? So I needed to get away. There was a small trail through some trees I knew of that would take me away from the road and

pretty much straight home a little while ahead. A good shortcut if you wanted to climb a very steep hill. The car kept coming, kept snailing by me and in the short minutes I had in between when he was turning his car somewhere unable to see me I ran to reach that trail until I was in sight again. I was afraid of running while he saw me afraid it might escalate the situation that he might come out of the car and start chasing me for real and I couldn't run very fast so I tried to seem unafraid and walked at a leisurely pace which was probably stupid of me. At one point I pretended to fish a phone out of my pocket and talked to someone on it when he could see me hoping it would deter the man. But it probably didn't look like a phone. I was just holding a handful of old candy wrappers in my keys from my pocket. I gave up on that plan quickly. Unfortunately, once I could

see the trail, the car was back, very close to me. At this point, I noticed the car kept driving on the wrong side of the road, as close to me as possible. I figured if I tried for the trail, I might stumble or not climb it fast enough and he just grabbed me. Defeated, I had to walk past my shortcut and the car, pretending to assume nothing, but then the car came to a full stop and so did I. He just stopped there in the middle of the hill next to the trail, car facing away from me. I tried to read this action. Was he waiting for me to do something? I tried to search the part of the man's face I could see in his side mirror.

Nothing. I don't know how long both of us stood there before I decided to walk again, but this time, backwards, facing the car. The only thing I could imagine he might be doing was waiting for me to drop my guard so I didn't drop it. I held my keys as tight as I could in my pocket while slowly walking backwards staring at his face in the mirror When I had gotten a decent number of steps away the car started rolling down the hill again I waited until I was just out of sight before I darted back to the shortcut If he kept following me up the road he'd definitely find out which house I lived in and I couldn't risk that My heart had never beaten as fast as it did when

I scrambled up that trail. I didn't stop to look behind me or even breathe before I had reached my house. I fumbled with my keys in the lock while I frantically looked around for the car, locked myself in as fast as I could and sprinted to my younger sister's bedroom window where I could see some of the road. I saw the car coming back up the hill and then back down and out of sight. I stood at that window for over an hour and the car never came back up again. When my dad came home I asked if our uncle was in town visiting but he was confused at the very idea. I didn't tell my parents about this car incident until very recently. At that age I was still thinking there might be a small chance that it was a friend of one of my parents that this car incident until very recently. At that age I was still thinking there

might be a small chance that it was a friend of one of my parents that I didn't recognize and that accusing him of being a potential kidnapper would be an unforgivable offense. I had weird priorities back then. I can't say for certain that I haven't seen this man since. Bald, fat men aren't exactly a rarity where I live and the car was pretty anonymous. I've had somewhat severe anxiety since adolescence to this day and slow moving cars can still trigger some pretty bad anxiety attacks. This story happened about two years ago when I was sharing an apartment with a roommate. It was a fairly quiet apartment complex in a relatively safe area. I have a small cat that is at my apartment.

I am inexperienced with people and socially awkward, so I fail to recognize lots of red flags. I'm in my apartment on my weekend off from work and my roommate is at work on the night shift. I have very weird sleeping hours so it's not odd for me to do chores and other things at night. I had done the laundry in the wee hours of the night plenty of times and I never felt bothered doing so. I'm debating how to bring our laundry to the laundry building because the wheels in our laundry basket broke. The problem with this is that both of us have been procrastinating so the laundry began to pile up. I am not strong by any means so I'm trying to think of how to manage this decidedly heavy buildup of clothing. I decide to stuff a bunch of clothes into the broken laundry basket

and put some in garbage bags. I manage to stuff two garbage bags with clothes and resolve to drag the laundry basket first and come back for the two bags. It's only a five minute walk to the laundry building from my room. The first two trips for the wash cycle go off without a hitch, but I am exhausted and the laundry basket bottom is shredded to oblivion. I decide I can't drag it again or it will get torn through completely. I make my second trip to put the clothes in the dryer then walk back to my apartment so I can chill until they're done. So far so good, nothing weird at all.

Time flies and it's time to pick up the laundry, so I head off taking some garbage bags with me to haul the first load back. It's around 2am. As I get to the laundry building I start feeling uneasy. I glance around and see no one but for some reason my nerves are fraying. My hands start shaking and I fumble the keys in the door and go in. I look out the window and see no one, so I chastise myself for freaking out over nothing and manage to stuff everything into three garbage bags. I stand there and consider if I want to make two trips, but that feeling kept nagging me, so I decided to roll up my sleeve and flex some muscles to get it done in one go. With two bags in my right hand and a third tossed over my left shoulder I booty bump my way out of the door. When I go outside I immediately begin feeling nervous again. I look around but see no one, no idling cars, no people on any of the lit sidewalks, not a single soul. I start heading

to my apartment but realize it's all much heavier than I bargained for and my right hand begins hurting as the bag ties begin cutting into my hand. I set the bags down, flex my hand and try to find a more comfortable way to grab them. I also notice one bag is beginning to rip. As I do this I suddenly get a huge wave of panic and I instinctively look around but I see no one again. Just as I'm beginning to think I'm just being paranoid, a guy in all black suddenly seems to just melt out of the shadows of two nearby cars directly to my right. I notice him from my right peripheral and I almost jump out of my skin. I didn't hear him coming at all. He laughs and apologizes for spooking me and says,

I happen to be biking by and it looks like you're having a hard time with that. Let me help. I have never really gotten alarm bells before even seeing a person so I err on the side of caution. Oh no, it's okay, I got it. I'm not that far from here, just down the sidewalk actually. He stoops down and picks up the two bags I set down and says even better, I live that way too. I hesitate. I don't want to be rude but for some reason my fight or flight is kicking in. My desire not to be rude overtakes and I laugh awkwardly. He starts walking off with my laundry almost like he knows where he's headed.

I keep apologizing and telling him he really doesn't have to do this and asking if he's really okay heaving those heavy bags. He assures me he's fine and makes no further comments. He walks so fast I almost have to jog to keep up behind him. Eventually after passing three other intersections he stops at the only turn leading toward my apartment and stops in front of my door before I even get there and says, Where should I put them? I'm a little concerned he knew where I lived but said,

Right here by the door is fine. He stands there and just sort of stares at me and I stare back. Feeling awkward I open my apartment, go in and put my bag down near the door. When I turn around I jump out of my skin a second time as I almost turn right into him. He had followed me inside. He's still holding my laundry and looking around the apartment and then he spots my cat. She's a very cute cat. What type of cat is that? She's a blue Russian, right? He asks, still holding my laundry. I've seen her looking through

the window a lot. I'm way past creeped out by this point and I don't know how to get this guy to leave. My apartment was right by the property line hedge on the corner of the building on the first floor. The only way he could have seen her would be to walk by my door regularly which wouldn't be weird in and of itself until later. I shrugged awkwardly and say I don't know what she is. He then sets the bags down in the middle of the living room floor and tries to pet her but she runs away. He shrugs at me and comments that he didn't think she'd be skittish. I kind of stare at him uncomfortably and he slowly backpedals his way to the door with a smile. Well, anyway, he says, you have a nice night, ma'am.

Glad you got home safe but it's time for me to head home. I watched him go and watched him walk back the way he came. Me wanting to confirm my suspicion, I pretended to close my door behind him, count to ten, and then go out to see where he went. I watched him walk to the adjacent apartment building and go up the stairs to wherever his apartment was up there. No way he could have seen my cat. There is no way, aside from him simply coming by my door, for no reason. To be continued... We were planning on hiking the length of the trail from one side of the mountain to the other which was supposed to take about four days. We drove separately to the mountain and Julie beat me to the parking area of the trail which consisted of a dirt road right next to a creek.

There were three other cars parked including hers. I met up with her and we started hiking up the approximately 3,000 feet to the summit at around 3pm. I had backpacked two times before and camped about three times before this. I was pretty young each time and someone else was in charge of researching the area we were in, basically checking the weather for the time we'd be there and what the camping area was like. But this time I was the one who had decided where to hike. I didn't look at the weather or what was going on with the trail at the time, just that it looked beautiful and like a fun trek. Julie was quite experienced with backpacking. She used to work for a company that led school kids on Appalachian trail trips

and was the reason I trusted her as my backpacking partner. She had looked up the weather and the status of the trail. Apparently we were in for thunderstorms for the week. On top of that, the accomplice in an unresolved homicide case was last seen on this trail. Stupidly, I wasn't too put off by this. As we hiked up the mountain we passed what I now know were the owners of the other cars in the parking lot at the base of the trail. A woman and a man who were walking their adorable dog, a man with a fully equipped backpack, didn't think much about it at the time, and another man who had hiking sticks and seemed to be just out for a day hike. At around 5pm we were exhausted because the trail was pretty much straight up.

We found ourselves in a relatively open area close to the summit and decided to set up camp. Despite the area being cleared, no one was around besides a few campfires that had been there for a while because the last rains had been about a week ago. We set up our tents, then went to find firewood. Twenty feet up the mountain from our camp there was an apparently abandoned tent. We ignored it at first because we didn't want to be rude. Eventually we realized that there was no one else around. I decided to look inside the otherwise pristine tent. The rain fly wasn't on so I peered inside one of the ventilation flaps.

Inside was a wet sock, three cliff bar wrappers and an unused condom. Weird, but no one was around so we ignored it. We ate dinner, tied our bear bag, and went to sleep. As soon as I zipped my tent door closed, rain started to fall. I'm not going to lie, I'm not the most acclimated to sleeping on a flat, hard surface, so my night was characterized by periodic moments of restlessness to readjust. It was pitch black so it was difficult to determine whether I was dreaming or awake. During the night I thought I heard two people come up the trail from the direction Julie and I had come. They stopped about 10 feet away from our campsite, whispered to each other, then one of them walked through our camp. The next morning I woke up surprisingly well rested. As we were eating breakfast I told Julie about my dream.

She told me it couldn't have been a dream because she experienced the same thing. That's when I noticed the footprints through our camp. Naturally we went to the location of the mysterious tent from the day before, and it was still there. We continued our hike to the summit in the rain that hadn't stopped from the night before. The summit's portion of the trail was impassable due to overgrowth, so we went back to our cars and left. All I'm left wondering is why two people would hike up 2,900 feet of difficult trail in the pitch blackness of night without flashlights. This happened to my best friend's father, Matt, who was like a father to me. Leela, my best friend and I can't be sure if these are the exact dates and time as Matt refuses to talk about this and we heard this from Greg,

her uncle, his brother a few years ago. From what we do know though this would have taken place sometime during the 90s or very early 2000s as it happened a few years before Lilo was born in 2004. Matt would have been around in his mid-twenties, living in an apartment in Sydney's city with Greg, who was older by a year and a few months. They had gotten a puppy a few weeks earlier, she was a small Shih Tzu Maltese cross that was extremely healthy and happy. They were in the middle of potty training her and decided since she was old enough to go outside now and she had her vaccinations, it would be a good idea to start taking her out of the front of the apartment building

where there was grass where she needed to pee. They had done this for a few weeks now and had gotten used to it. She also enjoyed going out. She loved people. She was the type of dog to bark at everything and everyone. One night Matt took her out to the grass at around 1am. He noticed straight away that it was eerily quiet. Too quiet considering it was only 1am and in the center of Sydney city. The puppy had done her business and was just walking around sniffing and barking at the grass. Out of nowhere a man

dressed in all black but nice clothing came up to Matt. When Matt told Greg this later on he described the man as expressionless. He felt as though the man could see straight through him. The man knelt down in front of the puppy and looked her in the eye. She all of a sudden stopped barking, laid down and whimpered at the man's feet. This freaked Matt out so he picked her up, getting ready to go back upstairs. The man gave Matt a cold smile and left without a word. Matt was of course freaked out but once telling Greg they found themselves laughing at what they thought to just be a weird encounter with a weird man. The next day before leaving for the day they left the puppy food and water, which they would find untouched when they came back in the afternoon.

They just thought that maybe she wasn't hungry. When they went and found her shivering in her bed with vomit and diarrhea around the room, they knew something was wrong with her. They had still not remembered yesterday's weird encounter yet though. They took her to the vet and she got looked at. The vet examined her stomach as they thought she must have eaten something toxic or just bad which would cause vomiting and diarrhea, right? Well, there was nothing weird about her stomach contents, so the vet checked her urine. They found arsenic in her urine, which gave the vet the diagnosis of arsenic poisoning,

but they don't know how she got it as she did not ingest any. Matt remembered about the weird encounter and believed that the man, or whatever it was, did something to the puppy. Whether it was the devil or something putting black magic on her he knew it just had to have had something to do with him. Thankfully the dog got better after a week or so and lived to about 2010. Matt, Leela and the rest of their family got another puppy a few years ago which they still have now and the dog is also very weird. Even after this incident Matt is still not super religious or superstitious and has no clue what he encountered that night or if it was all just a big coincidence but he refuses to mess around with anything involved with the devil, black magic, the paranormal and anything else like that just in case. He also refused to talk about this to anyone other

than Greg who he already had told. Leela and I don't know why he won't talk about it but it left that much of an effect on him. I guess it's better not hearing the full thing from his perspective. Now this might just be a scary story their family throws around when families and friends are over to scare each other but the way Matt reacts when it's mentioned makes me think otherwise. Neither him or me or you ever know if this is true or not but by the way mysterious man, potential black magic guy or the devil himself. Leave our dog alone. I am a very, very touchy-feely, sweet type of person and I would always hold hands with my friends, lay my head on their shoulders and would give them warm hugs. There's no malice whatsoever because that's how affectionate I am. This happened during the first major school contest, a school play, during our sophomore year in high school. I was assigned as the head of the props committee and I was given

the liberty to choose classmates I wanted to be in the props committee too. Of course, I chose C.S., the creepy classmate or stalker, and L., my friend, also my savior, to be in the props because I know guys like them wouldn't want to be a part of the play. Like I said, I'm a very sweet and affectionate person, and I felt pity that not many of my classmates were talking to C.S. because he was the odd one out. The class outcast, and it was only L. who was talking to him because they're the odd one out. The class outcast and it was only L who was talking to him because they're seatmates and that's it. So I approached him and befriended him to make him feel less lonely. You know, what a good person would do. And along the span of making props, CS and I got close. Worst thing to have happened, sadly sadly so one day after classes were done i stayed a bit later than usual because i was making sure our rival section wasn't going to sabotage our props typical high school rivalry so what do you expect it was already six in the evening when i left the building and i

was walking to the bus stop and i felt someone walking behind me so I turned around and along the crowds of college students there was CS leaning on a pole while looking at his phone. This caught me off guard because he usually leaves the campus on the east gate, not the main gate where I always go but I just let it slide and thought maybe he was waiting on L or was just hanging around. We have this open area in the campus which is like a park before you reach the main gate. The next day during lunch I guess I left my bag unzipped because when I got back from the cafeteria there was a brown paper bag inside which I know I didn't bring. Picking it up there was a Hershey's chocolate

bar inside and a small note taped on it that says, you look so pretty today alpaca, which is my name. I really didn't mind the letter because the only thing in my mind is that I got a chocolate bar. Nonetheless I showed the note to my best friend and Elle both of them had different reactions. My best friend being the hopeless romantic she is was beyond happy that I had a secret admirer. Elle on the other hand was for a lack of a better word irked. It happened again the next day, next week, next two weeks with the messages becoming longer. Your smile is so cute and you're so beautiful. You have a cute laugh and I really like you. Those kinds of stuff. One day for some reason the faculty had an emergency meeting so that meant an hour without class and we were talking. Some had their phones out and my seatmate was sleeping. I was busy doing calligraphy on my

journal when I saw a flash of light in my peripheral vision. I looked at the direction where it came from and I saw C.S. fiddling at his phone or tablet which was undoubtedly angled at me. Again, I let this slide. That's when L walked by and slipped a paper on my lap saying, look at your phone. So I took my phone from my bag, turned it on and L sent a message. I have something to tell you later on. Be online. That night at home I was waiting for L to go online when he was, his first message was to avoid CS and stop talking to him. I asked why and he sent pictures of a phone, a gallery to be exact and I noticed one album with the title Alpaca. The next photo L sent was the contents of the album. It was pictures of me,

pictures from my Facebook, pictures during class, stolen pictures and some pictures were obviously zoomed in or cropped so that it was only my face in the picture. Obviously I got creeped out and asked L whose phone was that and lo and behold it was CS's phone. L further then told me the paper bag with the Hershey's and messages were from CS. He knew from the start because of the handwriting and I got creeped out more. L told me to be safe and to start avoiding CS from now on and I did. The next few days I gave the paper bag to L without getting the Hershey's and I think CS was slowly noticing that I was avoiding him. This is where stuff hits the fan. Another day of me leaving school at 6pm because of a school seminar, as usual, I was walking to the main

gate when I noticed there weren't many students out for some reason which made the walkway less crowded. The next thing I knew I felt someone behind me and there was CS, failing to hide behind a big bush. My red flag was waving so I called L and told him that C.S. is behind me and hiding behind a bush. Al frantically told me to walk fast towards the bus stop and stay on the line with him. I'd try my best to calm my nerves and walk fast. I would simply look over my shoulder and I could see C.S. keeping up and almost a hundred feet near me and I think Al picked it up from how I gasped and he told me to run. I ran towards the main gate and to the overpass and I hid behind a stall selling street food by the sidewalk.

A few minutes later I saw CS by the bus stop looking around and was low key checking if the students by the bus stop wearing our school uniform was me. I was still on call with L and I told him CS was looking for me by the bus stop. Fortunately, CS left and went back to the overpass but L told me I should go to the bus stop on the next block just to make sure. I got home safely. The following weeks consisted of me avoiding CS like the plague but I felt his stare at the back of my head. Whenever I look around the classroom and get a glimpse of him he would have this straight stare and it really freaked me out. L was kind enough to accompany me by the bus stop and sometimes he would distract CS whenever classes are dismissed. The final straw was when CS shoved an envelope inside my bag and it was three yellow pad papers. I didn't get to read it because L took it from me and he read it instead. After reading it he tore

the papers and threw it. I asked him what the letter was about and he told me C.S. thought I loved him because I befriended him and that we were in a relationship and was confused why I was avoiding him. He goes on and on that he loves me and that we were the a relationship and was confused why I was avoiding him. He goes on and on that he loves me and that we were the perfect couple and I was dumbfounded. I backtracked to how I befriended him and how I approached him and I wondered if I let him on but I know I wasn't. I was just being myself. Push comes to shove and I told C.S. that I didn't love him nor were we ever in a relationship. The rest of the school year encounters with strangers at the time. I had just returned from my first job interview with the Gig Economy Cycle Courier Company in San Francisco.

Sure that I had the job and decided to roll and smoke a celebratory blunt on my 20-minute walk home from the train as I neared my apartment. Shortly after finishing, a huge stranger turned a quick corner off of a side street and walked past me. I heard his Nikes screech to a halt and turn and when I looked back, his friendly, handsome face was smiling at me with bright, white teeth. He asked if I had another cigarette. Yeah, I got another one, let me roll you one. I said, smiling back at him. He was very grateful and held a respectful distance as I rolled him a terrible bugler cigarette. After I gave him the square, I told him I was on my way home and had a 15 minute walk before I got there, excusing myself. He offered

to come with me to make sure I stayed safe and I accepted, glad for the company. It wasn't long before he strayed the conversation into some weird waters. Are you a virgin? Nah, I've been around. Are you single now? Yeah, I'm single. Are you into guys at all? Yeah, sometimes. He got really excited when he found out that I was bi and started giving detailed accounts of the things that he had used to have when he was my age. I got pretty uncomfortable at this point and was visibly shaken, but he seemed encouraged and gleeful about my awkwardness. He pressed further. Do you think I'm sexy? You're really cute but I'm kind of stoned and just trying to get home. Do you want to come to my place instead? Hey I think I just need to get home and sleep in my own

bed. At this point he procured a bag of white powder from his pocket and asked if I'd like to roll. I had told him I wasn't interested and I really appreciated it. He kept pushing this for several minutes and then told me, Hey, my aunt's place is coming up and she don't trust strangers. I'm going to run inside and then be right out. Take your shoes off and pretend your ankle is hurting so I have an excuse for my auntie. I'll just tell her you hurt your foot and I'm trying to help you out. I felt like he was trying to rob me at this point and was really scared of him. The way he carried himself told me he had years of experience and many pounds of muscle over me. I submitted, taking my shoes off

on the sidewalk, still stoned as I'll get out and knowing I was about to lose my phone, wallet and shoes only a couple of blocks from my new home. He went up the door and pretended to knock, coming down the steps, grabbing my shoes and telling me forcefully to walk across the street and sit in a closed off alley across the street. At this point I asked him, are you going to rob me? Just take my stuff, I almost have no money and my phone is worth nothing. But he cut me off and enveloped me in a big hug, grabbing my butt and holding me close enough that it hurt. He broke the hug after a few seconds and said, oh I like you dude, I'm not trying to rob you. When we got to the alley he asked me to sit down on the log and I did. I was scared of him and stoned out of my mind with my low tolerance and felt completely powerless to this huge street smart man. I also noticed a gun shaped bulge in

his left hand hoodie pocket which he was eager to touch when there was a long conversation. When we got across the street he almost instantly shoved his hands into his pants and began to touch himself, his head rolling back on his neck and his eyes almost closed except for watchful pupils keeping an eye on my feet. A few seconds into this, he yelled at me, Hey, take those socks off. Shaking visibly, I pulled my socks off. Softly, Wiggle your toes, let me see some action. I obliged for about ten minutes.

I asked him at one point if he was going to harm me, and he blew me a kiss with his left hand, still going to town. No, I would never hurt you, baby. and he blew me a kiss with his left hand, still going to town. No, I would never hurt you, baby. I got you now and forever. Finally, finally he went and this smile transfixed to his face. He pulled it out of his pants and begged me not to tell anybody as he already had a felony for indecent exposure in front of the minor. I told him I wouldn't. He asked for my number and told me he was going to call it right away. I gave him my real one and he did call. He told me he'd see me

real soon and smiled, embracing me tightly. He walked away quickly and after that I put my shoes on and ran. This is one of four separate home invasion incidents that my family had the misfortune of experiencing. I live in the Philippines and as a third world country, poverty driven crimes run rampant from city to city. The story was passed on to me by my late grandmother and it occurred back in the early 90s, several years before I unenthusiastically drew my first breath into this world. Aunt and uncle just had their first born child and were living in my grandparents' property, a gated compound that enclosed an adjacent pair of two-story colonial houses. Bougainvillea adorned their quaint home in clusters of pink and white. It was truly a beautiful abode. Erected a decade or two after

the second world war on a land that was littered with mortar holes and bullet shells. The Japanese troops unfortunately made use of my great grandparents original home as a garrison and burned it to the ground near the end of the war but that's an entirely different story. They were staying on the second level along with their daughter. She was warmly tucked in her cot while the couple shared a bed together, both ready to retire for the night. Around the wee hours, my aunt abruptly woke up to the sound of creaking and rustling. Her eyes darted from corner to corner trying to connect the noise to its source. In her horror, she sees a silhouette

belonging to a man of average build through the open window by the foot of their bed. The cool night breeze increased the tension tenfold as the trespasser slowly peeks inside, looking for a way in. My aunt stayed still as a rock in bed and pretended to be asleep. As the man withdrew from the window, she quietly shakes her husband awake and quickly fills him in on the situation. They could hear the man's slow and heavy footsteps on the garage's roof, which was directly beside their bedroom. It went further away and stopped in front of the next room's window, where my aunt's younger sister slept soundly. They presumed he was inspecting feasible points of entry and was weighing

his options. This is the time to act, my uncle thought. He nimbly crept his way towards the window and crouched to the side, making sure that he wasn't visible from the outside. My aunt continued pretending to be asleep as both of them hear a pair of footsteps grow closer and closer. The man stops and peeks through their window. Uncle musters all of his strength and jerked upwards, then in his loudest voice yells directly into the uninvited guest's face. It wasn't even scary or psychopathic in nature,

but more of a comedic, bahahaha laugh. However, it was probably more than enough to traumatize the poor guy for life, as he yelped and clumsily stumbled backwards while making a huge racket. He then proceeded to haphazardly scramble over the barbed wire laced concrete wall that separated my grandparents' property from the neighbors. Everyone woke up from the commotion and my grandpa, who was a retired cop, immediately scanned the perimeter. When the sun was finally up they had another look around and spotted splotches of blood on the roof and a worn out blue slipper that was stuck between the barbed wire. The home invading Cinderella was never caught, nor did he ever return for his slipper. Out of all the home invading incidents that occurred prior and during my 24 years of existence, this was probably the funniest. But I've babbled on too much, so I'll save the others for the next time.

No matter how safe you think your neighborhood or community is, exercising a bit of caution won't hurt and will save you from potential harm. Always lock your doors and check for any possible entrances. And to the guy who left his slipper, we're living in hard times, but I hope you're doing okay. This happened when I was only five years old, so most of the information I gathered was through my parents. I lived in the middle class neighborhood in Chicago in a two-bedroom apartment with my parents. The apartment building was gated and you needed a passcode in order to enter through the front. The backside of the building however was open and led to the

alleyway where residents could throw out their trash which was common in Chicago. My upstairs neighbor was a woman around 40 years old who lived alone with her cats. I know, cliche, but she was a sweet lady. One time she went on vacation and asked my parents if they could feed her cats and she left them a key. While she was away my dad tried to enter her home to feed her cats, however the keyhole wouldn't budge. My dad felt bad but he couldn't get in to feed them until the lady came back from her vacation. My father was so apologetic for not being able to feed them but the lady nonetheless understood and even offered to show my dad how to turn the keyhole as

she went on vacation often and needed someone to tend to her cats so my parents kept the key on the key hook. My mother worked a nine to five and my dad worked night shifts in order to not have to leave me with a babysitter. My mother and I often stayed up and watched friends together. I swear this is where my love for the show developed. Anyway one night as usual my dad was off at work working his usual night shift and my mother and I were up at night watching our show. While the show played in my mother recounted hearing footsteps upstairs but not the usual set of footsteps followed by the patter of the kitty's paw steps. No this was multiple footsteps and muffled talking. My mother didn't hear any screaming and just heard some

music playing. As this was a Saturday night my mother just thought that the lady upstairs had company over and didn't think much of it. Sunday came and went and on Monday my mom decided to call off for some reason or another. We were all laying on my parents king size bed when we hear a knock on the door around 11am. My dad opened the door to two police officers and a woman who was the upstairs lady's friend. The police along with a friend explained to my parents that the lady had failed to show up to work which was not like her and she was not answering her phone or her door. The police officer asked if my parents had seen or heard from her but my parents said no. My dad remembered that he had a key and offered it to the police officer. My dad joined the two police officers and the lady's friend.

When the officer went to put the key in the keyhole it wouldn't turn so my dad jumped in and showed them how to open it. According to my dad the two police officers gave each other a strange look but continued to enter the apartment as the friend and my father followed. They were greeted by the cats but there didn't seem to be anything out of place until they reached the room at the end. When they walked in they found the lady with a pillow over her face, bloodstained clothing from what looked like stab wounds. The friend cried out hysterically but was held back by an officer and my father so as not to taint the scene. The other police officer began to call in the wellness check turned murder scene. As more police, forensics, and detectives showed up at the scene, my parents were questioned separately. My dad was asked to go down to the station for further questioning.

He tells me now it was because he became a suspect since he had a key and knew how to open the door. This was important because there was no sign of forced entry. When they were able to corroborate his alibi, they let him go. A week had passed and my parents were able to gather information from the police. They said that the woman's debit card was used at an ATM where they were able to obtain a picture of a man and they released the image to the public to see if they would get a hit on it. Apparently a kindergartner told her teacher her dad was on TV and this somehow led to her father being detained and charged along with three of his friends with the murder of this lady. What still rocks me to the core is what follows. When they questioned the men they confessed and

told the police everything. They told a story about how for weeks they watched a young Latina woman with her little curly haired daughter, studying them. They knew when the father went off to work and how long the two, daughter and mother were alone in the apartment. They studied the building for weeks and knew that the back side was open and led directly to the back doors of each apartment. They concocted a plan to break in to do God knows what to my mother and I. The night had finally come when they knew my father had left. They were waiting at our back door when they heard someone coming down the steps with a trash bag. It was the lady.

She locked eyes with them and knew something was off immediately and turned to run back to her apartment. She, unfortunately, was not quick enough. and knew something was off immediately and turned to run back to her apartment. She, unfortunately, was not quick enough. They grabbed her and pushed her through her back door while muffling her screams. She stood no chance, and I shiver at the thought of what that poor woman suffered through and how that could have easily have been my mother and I. It was a cold and rainy night, very cliche I know, and I was just sitting watching TV on my couch and relaxing after a long and stressful week of work. It was about 11pm when the knock at the door happened. I ignored it at first but whoever was on the other side kept on persisting and kept on knocking louder and louder until I unlocked and

opened the door and asked the man what he was doing at this time of night and why he was knocking so loudly he responded saying hey uh i uh a place to stay tonight i should probably add he was a six foot average build caucasian male who was in an notorious gang notice the mongrel mob i could tell from his tattoos he had in his face so when i said no and that he couldn't stay here he tried to persuade me that he was a decent guy and then when I said no he said oh come on you're not scared are you? Almost immediately after he said this he tried to lunge inside my house but stopped at the door frame. This was extremely weird and gave me chills as New Zealand is a pretty safe country and we really only have meth heads and the odd murder here and there.

Of course I shut my door and locked it then yelled through the door for him to screw up before I called the police. When I did this he yelled at me and called me useless and that I was going to feel his wrath for not letting a nice man with no car and no place to stay on a stormy night in. When I went back to my living room I peeked outside the window hiding behind my curtains. I saw him walking down my path, getting into a black four-wheel drive and peeled out of my neighborhood. Needless to say, I rang the police right after I witnessed this, and when they came and questioned me, they said he fits the description of a New Zealand-wide wanted man and thanked me for helping with his last known whereabouts. I cannot stress enough to lock your doors and don't open your doors past 10pm.

I will update what happens with the man that knocked my door. P.S. I know this isn't the scariest story out there but to me when you are in this exact situation your mind goes blank and you really have no clue what to do or say. My name is Allison. I'm 19 and I have a one-year-old baby boy named Scott. We live at my mom's house, who was with me when the events unfolded. When we arrived at the Walmart in our area, my mom went into the store while I went over to the part of the entrance that has the carts and proceeded to put Scott in the children's seat. I got the awful feeling that someone was looking at me so I turned

around. There was a man there. He was about 5'8 and maybe 180 pounds and had a full grown beard. He looked to be no younger than 30. We locked eyes for a second and he gave me a small smile. Not wanting to be rude, I returned the gesture and proceeded to run into the store after my mom. We were in the store for about an hour and we saw him in every single aisle we were in. I figured it could be a coincidence considering the store itself was pretty small. Towards the end of our shopping trip my mom realized we forgot to grab a package of juices for the house. She took the cart and scotch so I could run to the back of the store and get some. On the way back I saw the man not far behind me and he looked like he was headed towards the checkout line.

However, he also noticed me and made eye contact for longer than I was comfortable with. I hurried up to the back, got what I needed and hurried up to catch my mom before all of our items were scanned. I turned the corner at the end of the aisle and crashed full force into the man. Hey little lady, be more careful. The man said to me as I just about fell to the floor. I'm only 5'2, 99 pounds so he was a bit bigger than me. I gave him a small laugh so he didn't think I was ignoring him or being disrespectful and I went to catch up with my mom.

After we paid, we went to get our receipt scanned at being disrespectful and I went to catch up with my mom. After we paid, we went to get our receipt scanned at the door and I heard, excuse me, from behind us. My mom and I both turned very quickly. We thought it could have been the man that rung us up, but unfortunately it was the man who followed us around the entire God-blessed store. I just wanted to introduce myself, he said, stretching his hand out to me. My name is Charlie. I looked at my mom and she looked as confused as me. I shook his hand and he asked my name, refusing to let go of my hand. I said I was in a hurry and had to get the baby home. Thankfully Scott was being extra fussy and I was able to gesture towards him as a reason why we

were rushing away from him. Charlie then went, oh I was going to ask you if you were interested in going out sometime. He said his grip getting tighter on my hand. In that moment, I didn't care if I seemed rude or not. I yanked my hand from his and grabbed the cart from my mother, who was still frozen, just as surprised as me at what had just happened, and borderline sprinted out of the store. We got Scott in the car, loaded the groceries into the car and pulled out of the lot. Now my mom had this habit of checking her rear view every few minutes so about five minutes into our drive I heard her gasp.

I looked to her and asked what was wrong to which she replies, That guy from the store, he's right behind us. I turned around and sure enough, in a little older looking Red's Volkswagen, Charlie was tailing us. My mom made a sharp left at the next residential area she saw. So did Charlie. After about 10 minutes of trying to lose him ourselves, my mom said, forget this and took off 35 miles over the speed limit and turned into the lot of the police station. Thankfully he didn't follow us there. The three of us went into the station and reported what happened. It doesn't seem like much but it chilled me to the bone just thinking that not only did he pursue me in there to God knows what end,

but going as far as to follow me home. I was in high school, around 16 years old, and I didn't know how to drive yet. I lived within walking distance of my boyfriend's house at the time, and no could drop me off to his house so I thought I'd walk. What could go wrong? There were these back roads I would always take because it wasn't that scary to walk through and not too far of a walk before you start to reach the houses. As I was walking through the back roads I hear a van behind me. I move to the side expecting the pass by because I thought I was in their way. I continue walking and he drives slowly right next to me. This was an immediate red flag to me because him and I were the only people on this road.

My mom always taught me to be cautious and always warned me about this stuff and constantly nagged me not to walk by myself but I always insisted I could take care of myself. He asked me where I was going and why I was dressed so nicely. He kept commenting on my clothes which wasn't all that revealing. I was wearing skinny jeans with a blue tank top. I looked at him and didn't bother replying as I walked faster. He was a young man, maybe in his late 20s in a busted up rusty green van. He looked very messy and sketchy. I was hoping he would take the hint and just leave me alone but he just kept following me and calling me. I heard him stop the van and open his door. That was it. I ran as fast as I could

until I reached the group of houses. I was desperately trying to find some people hanging around outside but I couldn't find anyone. This lunatic was still trying to follow me from afar as I searched. I finally see a bunch of elderly Filipino men and women and explain to them what was going on. They didn't seem like much help and didn't seem to care too much about my situation. So I walk away still cautious of the man trying to follow me. By some miracle a nearby family parked on the side of the road noticed my distress and asked me what was wrong. I explained to them what was happening to me and offered me a ride to my boyfriend's house. They were a Japanese family of four and by surprise

I recognized the daughter because she went to my school. We arrived at my boyfriend's house and the family made sure no one was following me before I left their car. I never saw that green van again. Now for a while I was scared of green vans and made sure to never walk dangerous routes. I never told my mom because she would never let me go out ever again. I made sure to thank that girl and her family when I saw her at school. I'm thankful that I'm alive and well. When I was younger, between 3 and 11 years old, I lived in a trailer with my stepdad, mom, and my younger brother. We lived in a very small town in northern Minnesota. The town was less than 100 people. The center of the town was about a mile away.

Down the street from that was 6 to 7 houses, and I lived in the middle one. On the left of our trailer was the front door, our playground, a strip of border trees, and a crop field, corn to be specific. On the right of our trailer was the back door. Its door handle was broken and we didn't have money to fix it which led into a fenced in area for our dogs. Then another border strip of trees, a daycare on the other side and less than half a mile down the road was a cemetery. To the front of the house was the road and a cornfield and to the back of the house was our backyard which was bordered by tall thick weeds An empty field with a trail that led from our house to the woods which was a little less than half a mile from our house We were very poor at the time which is why we couldn't fix a lot of the things in our house Even if we needed them like the door in the back

The layout of the trailer went like this. Towards the road in the front end was my room. The furthest from anyone. A small bathroom and a hallway. The front door, living room, kitchen, dining room then. Then a long hallway towards the back. On the left side of the hallway more towards the back than the kitchen was my brother's room. Right across from that was the back door. then in the very back was my parents bedroom. My stepdad was pretty abusive to me so in the middle of the night I would run away which was more just sneaking out and hiding under our front door porch for an hour or two then sneaking back into my room. At one point when I had done it, my stepdad got so mad he broke our porch light. I was seven or eight at the time.

One night was particularly bad, so I left at like midnight or 1am and went under the porch. I was there maybe 30 minutes, and then I tried to go back inside. Little did I know my stepdad was still angry and locked me out. At this point I was nine years old so I freaked out. I started crying at the door trying to get it open. All the lights were off inside so it was almost pitch black outside aside from the street light.

I was still crying when I heard a sound coming from the woods. It sounded like crying so I stopped thinking I was echoing or something, but it never stopped. The crying didn't sound like an animal or anything. It sounded like someone had recorded a person crying. It really sounded like me. I panicked, fear tearing through me. I tried the door harder, but I couldn't get the door open. I'll just run to my mom's window, I had thought. As I was about to, the crying sounded closer than it had before. It was a continuous crying but it was coming towards me. My face began to heat up and tears started to line my vision. Back door, the words popped in my head. The doorknob is broken, I can get in. I paused and listened to the crying. It still sounded closer to the woods than me,

so I took my chance. I ran around the front of the house and paused before I reached the right side and the crying had stopped. This was my chance. It went away, or so I thought. I booked it to the fence. The latch was stuck. I tried to push it up, and just as it started to slide up, there was a whisper from the tall border weeds no more than 15 feet away from where I was facing. Come here. Come here. Come here. The words became stretched out and honestly horrifying. It sounded like a very old, slow, distorted sound from a handheld recorder. I pushed the fence gate open and slammed the latch back down, ran up our decaying steps,

all two of them, and flung open the door. I slammed it shut and pushed a heavy box in front of it. I booked it down the hallway through the living room and right in my room. I closed my window quietly and let the blanket fall over it so nothing could see in. I turned off the lights, turned on the movie very softly and crawled into the top bunk and waited out the night. I could hear walking around the trailer, and I could hear muffled whispers of come here, and then crying. Go away, go away, I wanted to scream at it, but I didn't want it to find me. One morning came, I told my mom about my stepdad locking me out but not about what happened. Who do you think you are? She's nine, my mom screamed at him. He apologized and said that he thought I was inside. I knew he was lying because I did this every night and he always saw me. My mom didn't know

however. I never snuck out after that. The next night at around 10pm I was sitting in my bed and I could hear coyotes out towards the cemetery. I fell asleep for a while and got up later that night, around the same time as the previous night and went to get water from the kitchen. My stepdad was waiting for me. Come outside I want to talk to you. In my situation, I was mortified. I was about to be outside with that thing and my horrid stepdad. We went out to the front porch. I was waiting for the degrading to start, and it never did. We stood out there for about ten minutes in silence watching the stars in the sky.

Off in the distance, we could hear what sounded like the coyotes from before, only this time it was from the field behind our house. They sounded weird now. That's coyotes. They're hunting something, my stepdad said. I looked up at him and shook my head. It doesn't sound like coyotes.

It sounds weird. He gave me a knowing look and then sat down on the bench next to where I stood. I looked out towards the field. The coyotes sounded even closer. I looked back at my stepdad and he seemed like he was hesitant to tell me something. I looked back at the field again. The noises were so close this time and I swear I could hear hooves in the weeds. Goosebumps grew on my skin when I noticed them. A pair of red eyes staring at me from those exact weeds where I could hear the coyotes in the hooves. I stepped back and gasped. My stepdad looked and then put a firm hand on my shoulder and pushed me towards the front door.

He got me back inside and then locked the door and the chain above it. He brought me to the kitchen and said, Don't ever leave the house at night. It's dangerous out there. What was in those weeds? What animal has red eyes? I started quietly crying and told him about the previous night. He pulled me in and hugged me. You're not old enough to know right now.

Just promise me you won't ever go out at night again. I just cried and nodded. He brought me into my brother's room and set up a sleeping bag on the floor next to my brother's bed and our dogs. They were on high alert and growling at the blanketed window. He put on a movie for us even though my brother was sleeping and went back to the living room and stayed there the rest of the night. All throughout the night I could hear the cries of coyotes and some form of growling from my dogs or the coyotes. My stepdad never talked about that night and never told me what it was, so I can't know for sure what I saw or heard, but I think it was a wendigo or a skinwalker.

I listened, and I never went out at night again. This happened back in the summer of 2012. I'll give a bit of backstory for the area. We live in a part of New England known for high amounts of paranormal activity and sightings of unusual phenomena such as Bigfoot, UFOs, etc. The area is also said to be cursed by Native Americans. Now anyone who was well versed in the local legends know that it's a bad idea to enter the surrounding forest after sunset. This didn't really bother me at the time as a few friends of mine live directly on and around our local lake that is said to be especially haunted. Between myself and all of my friends we were no strangers to the unexplainable happenings.

I could go on and on about all the little things that happened. This incident stuck out though. My friend and I decided to take a drive in his truck to a secluded beach on our local lake at sundown. In order to get to this beach, one must travel about a half a mile into the woods down a dirt road tucked at the end of a residential street. Just as soon as we pulled onto the dirt road, my boyfriend called and we got into a small fight. After about 10 minutes of sitting in the truck arguing on the phone I finally got resolved and ended the call. I wasn't too upset but the phone call definitely killed my good vibe and the bad vibe certainly transferred to my friend as well. As my friend and I walked down a small path to the entrance of the beach, we were both feeling pretty negative.

Topics of conversation included complaining about our romantic partners, our home life, talking badly about other friends behind their backs, and just generally venting our frustrations about life. This beach was well known as a popular party spot. This was a Friday night in the middle of summer, and we were the only ones out there at the time. As we stood on the shoreline I commented, Huh, I'm surprised there's nobody else out here on a Friday night. The split second after I made the comment is when we heard it. Footsteps.

They were steady, bipedal footsteps that sounded to be moving parallel to the brushes along the tree line about 20 feet from where we were standing. Now here's the peculiar thing about the footsteps. They were clean. What I mean is that if a person were walking through the dense brush, we would have heard the snapping of twigs and the rustling of leaves on branches as they made their way through. But all we could hear was the slow, steady sound of footsteps crunching on the forest floor. It defied physics and logic. My friend took his flashlight and walked over to the edge of the tree line. The footsteps followed and as soon as he had shown his flashlight into the woods, the footsteps stopped.

He couldn't see anything there. He took a few steps along the tree line and the footsteps followed, sounding as if though they were only a few feet into the trees. Again, as soon as he had shown the flashlight the footsteps stopped and there was nothing to be seen. At this point I was still standing on the shoreline watching my friend being taunted by the footsteps when all of a sudden he stops dead in his tracks and points his flashlight into a small opening in the trees. He is standing perfectly quiet and still for about 10 seconds when I suddenly got this retching feeling in my gut that literally brought me to my knees. As I was regaining my balance, brushing the dirt off my legs, I started seeing visions in my head of the most blindingly bold shape of red you could ever imagine, coupled with the type of

high-pitched ringing one experienced with head trauma. My body was telling me that we were in danger, both physically and otherwise. My fight or flight response kicked in and I chose flight. In that moment I said calmly to my friend, Dude, we need to leave now. He is still just standing there shining the flashlight into the woods. I repeat myself calmly but firmly, We need to leave. Now.

He didn't respond. Finally I walked over to him, repeated myself one last time to which he didn't respond. It was as if he couldn't hear me. The expression on his face was blank. At this point, the sick feeling in my gut, the color red in my mind, and the ringing in my ears was intensifying. I grabbed my friend by the collar of his shirt and began dragging him towards the exit path. He didn't begin moving immediately. It took me giving him a good jerk in my direction for him to snap out of it and start moving his legs. Once he came to the realization is when the red and the ringing faded away. We started running down the path as quickly and carefully as possible. We could hear the footsteps following us, still as slow and steady as before.

Before we entered his truck, I checked the bed, the cab, and the undercarriage just to make sure there weren't real life people out there messing with us. We sped down that winding bumpy dirt road so fast I thought we were going to crash. As soon as we popped out onto the residential street I could no longer keep calm and I began freaking out. I just remember it being very important to me that I keep my composure until we were out of the woods where I felt safe. I am almost certain that we summoned a demon at the lake that night. Between the phone call with my boyfriend and all the trash talking afterward, we managed to stir up quite a bit of negative energy, which demons and evil spirits feed off of. The rest of the night I was distraught and experienced immense hypervigilance to every little thing. As for my friend, he didn't really speak much.

I tried to ask him about what was happening to him while he was zoned out with the flashlight and he just dismissed it in a way that was almost as if though he was pretending that I didn't even ask. I've returned to this beach dozens of times since, and nothing has happened. But anytime I go, I am never alone, and it's never at night. His name was Alex. He was tall, handsome, a talented, aspiring actor, a classy dresser, and an overall well-put-together guy.

Oh, he was also a pothead, but that's besides the point. He seemed perfect in every way. And there was something captivating about the way he spoke. He had such a deep, calm voice and a mind that was filled with outside-of-the-box ideas about life. These were the things I had originally thought about him until I eventually found out the truth. He was completely and utterly psychotic. For some background, I met Alex at my local community college two years ago at the beginning of 2017. I'm a female, by the way, in case anybody was wondering.

Alex was 20 at the time, and I had just turned 21. We had mutual friends, but we didn't actually talk much. We just said a few words to each other here and there, and he also had a girlfriend at the time. I remember thinking he was super handsome and wanted to get to know him better. However, I wasn't going to be a homewrecker so I just remained polite and respectful. I didn't know his girlfriend or anything about their relationship at all for that matter. I didn't even know what she looked like since she never hung out with us. All I knew was that she was also a student at

the college and he would often leave our group to go and spend time with her whenever her classes ended. By the end of that spring semester Alex and I had lost touch. He had actually lost touch with most of our friend group but I heard from one of my guy friends that he was going to take the next semester off just to work. I had no real reaction to this news to knowing I wouldn't be seeing him around campus in the fall and merely nodded and said cool to the friends who had informed me about this. I had developed a crush on somebody else anyways and most of my interest was in that person, who would later become my boyfriend. Fast forward to December of 2017, my boyfriend and I had broken up and I was heartbroken. I did what I feel a lot of people do after breakups, even if they don't admit it. I took to social media and posted what I thought was a really attractive picture of myself on Facebook,

looking super happy and unbothered for my ex to see. Lo and behold whether he saw it or not didn't matter. He didn't like or comment on it and I didn't hear from him again. Somebody who did interact with my picture however was Alex. He commented angel with heart eye emojis. This made me smile but also weirded me out a little for some reason. I hadn't spoken to him since April or May and hadn't even thought about him in the slightest. I also assumed he was still in a relationship. I don't remember whether or not I replied to his comment but I know I gave it a like. Nothing happened for a couple of weeks after that and it was around the end of January 2018 that I had a sudden urge to message Alex on Facebook. I was nervous about doing so but I still sent a simple hey message which he instantly replied to.

He said he was happy to hear from me and this calmed my nerves. Things got flirty pretty quickly. We talked all day and night and by the next morning I received my first good morning beautiful message with a heart. I didn't think this was weird at all. I actually got really excited. It had been a while since I'd received a sweet text like that and even though I no longer missed my ex, I missed the cute text I would always wake up to. By the third night Alex was asking to talk on the phone. I was hesitant about this since I am and have always been a person who genuinely just does not enjoy talking on the phone. I eventually agreed though and he proceeded to call me. Hearing his voice was comforting. He sounded so sweet and happy to be talking to me. He gave

me a lot of compliments about my voice and my laugh. He said I had the cutest giggle in the world. I personally disagreed but let him keep going because the compliments were flattering. The conversation continued long into the night and he had eventually convinced me to hang out with him the following day. I was hype but also incredibly anxious. The next morning I hopped on the bus which had a route that conveniently passed by my college. Public transportation was my only means of getting around since I didn't have a car at the time. I got off at the bus stop and headed to the part of the campus where Alex and I agreed to meet. He ended up being a little late but when he arrived, my heart started skipping beats and the nerves were all over the place. He looked so different

from what I remembered. His hair was much longer, like literally touching his shoulders. His facial hair had grown out a lot and his teeth looked yellower. He wasn't ugly but just different looking. He greeted me with a big hug and an immediate kiss which totally caught me off guard. Before I could say anything he told me that he was so happy to see me and that we would have a great day together. All the while his eyes looked as though they were burning with desire for me. It was creepy. I liked him a lot but not that much.

We ended up taking a different bus back to his place. Something I didn't know we would be doing. Now I know what some of you might be thinking. Red flags all over the place. Trust me. I know about red flags but have you ever been in a situation that you knew was off but your body and mind just couldn't and wouldn't react for whatever reason? Yeah, that was my predicament. Alex lived about 20 minutes from our college in a very small one-room apartment. The kitchen,

bathroom and bedroom were all connected and the entire space itself was very messy. I shrugged it off though and complimented the place calling it cozy and cute. He smiled and took my hand then kissed me once more. I should also take this time to add that Alex had a problem with burping. Having smoked so much, cigarettes, his lungs and esophagus were damaged, leaving him short of breath, but also with quite a disturbing and disgusting burping issue. He would literally let out the loudest, most obnoxious belches at random times. It was uncomfortable to be around, especially when we were on the bus and people stared and cringed, but I knew he couldn't help it and didn't want to be rude by making a face or shuffling away from him when it happened. Being a very passive person I acted as though I didn't even notice this awkward problem and continued smiling and being pleasant. Alex took me across the street

to get some food at a little restaurant then we headed back to his apartment to watch a movie and cuddle. I was feeling a bit more relaxed now and was actually enjoying myself. I will say however that he was very touchy-feely, something I usually didn't mind but in this instance I wasn't a huge fan of, mostly because I didn't expect things to take off so quickly. You're so beautiful, he would tell me continuously you're a perfect angel i'm so lucky i just chuckled and said thanks he kept playing with my hair and massaging me tickling me every now and then too i laughed but started to feel uncomfortable again and eventually asked him to stop he would for a while before continuing again.

I'll spare you all the little details and get right into it. Somehow, despite my discomfort, we still ended up making love. I consented even though my conscience was telling me this was a mistake, and boy was it. To this day I'm still ashamed I let it happen, especially considering how much worse things were about to get from here on out. I stayed at Alex's place much later than I'd expected, and literally just caught the last bus heading back to my college, where my disgruntled mother was waiting to pick me up. I got an earful from her about how late it was and about how she had been waiting in an empty parking lot alone for 20 minutes. I felt awful about this but was grateful that she was there to get me. I didn't tell her anything about Alex or about where I'd gone or what I'd been doing all day. All I said that I was hanging out with some friends and there was a party. During the ride home I kept thinking about Alex and about how weird the day had been,

especially right around the time when I was about to board the bus. The whole time he was kissing me and my hand, telling me he loved me and how glad he was that I came to spend time with him. When I sat down on the bus he stood next to my window, put his hand up against it and gave me sad puppy dog eyes while mouthing the words I miss you over and over again. It was weird. The next day I of course had a bunch of sweet texts waiting to be read, all from Alex, asking if I had a good time yesterday and if we could hang out again soon. By this point I wasn't feeling this guy anymore. I took my time replying to all of his messages throughout the day and completely skirted the questions about hanging out again. The more I delayed replying the more texts I received. It was super annoying and

I rolled my eyes whenever my phone pinged and I knew it was him again. This was when the next phase of this relationship or whatever he thought this was started. Video chats. He had an Android and I had an iPhone so we couldn't FaceTime. However, he would call me through Facebook Messenger. Sometimes I answered the calls and sometimes I didn't. Whenever I did answer a call I wouldn't say much and tried to hide my face as best I could by putting my phone down and simply telling him that I was busy. He never accepted this answer though and kept insisting that I show my gorgeous carved by angels face. Cringe. All of this happened within the course of a week. By the second week I was

so done with Alex that I was basically ignoring every text and video call that came through. I also ignored all of the what's going on and are you mad at me and please answer I miss you messages. Throughout all of this he dropped the L-bomb a lot. Not once did I ever say it back because I didn't love him. I was creeped out by him and wasn't sure how to tell him that. So I did what I usually do whenever there's a problem in my life. I ignore it until it goes away. Well, this problem didn't go away. One night after talking to one of my best friends about this, I decided that it was finally time to tell Alex the truth. He conveniently

video called me which gave me the opportunity to do what I finally needed to do. I was afraid. I wasn't sure how he would react when I told him I didn't want to talk anymore. It was already clear that he wasn't the most mentally stable person. I answered the call and there on the screen was his bright happy face mine didn't match to say the least my heart was pounding as small talk and more I misuse kept coming out of his mouth he asked why I'd been so distant lately I sighed and told him I'd been doing a lot of thinking I told him I thought things were moving way too quickly and that I didn't feel the same way that he felt about me I apologized and let him know that I didn't feel the same way that he felt about me. I apologized and

let him know that I didn't want to hurt him. This was when things got bad. He immediately broke down in tears. I mean he was literally sobbing as though somebody had passed away. He cried like a child in the middle of a tantrum. I didn't know what to do. He got up from his desk and threw himself onto his bed. It was so intense, scary, and strange to watch. At first I felt awful. Then I thought about just hanging up and leaving him alone. I couldn't do that though. For some reason my finger just would not move to the end call button and my eyes were glued to the screen just watching this 20 year old break down in a way I'd never seen before. Alex I'm sorry I managed to say in a small voice that I knew he couldn't hear. I'm really really sorry. To my surprise he did hear me no you're not he yelled through sobs and gasps

you're not sorry you don't care i i do i just i just don't feel the same way i answered i thought you were my angel i loved you how could you do this? Even while typing this, I can still hear the way he sounded when he said those lines. It gave me chills to think back on. It was another 10 minutes or so before he got up and came back to his phone. He wiped his face angrily, then picked up his phone and stared at me with very hurt, furious eyes. My heart dropped. Not only had I never seen a person that upset, I'd also never seen a person look so angry. Tell me why, he demanded. I want to know. Because, because I just, I don't feel a connection. He screamed at me, cutting me off.

You feel something for me, I know you do. I don't, I squeaked, now feeling myself about to break down as well. I'm sorry, I really don't. You led me on. You lied. I know, I'm... I'm so sorry. I felt like my apologies weren't doing anything. He just continued glaring at me menacingly. I wanted to hang up so badly. I should have. I should have just hung up and blocked him immediately. It all could have ended right there. I want this to end. I don't want to see you anymore. This is over. I stated clearly. Alex threw his phone down and

threw another tantrum on his bed for another 15 minutes or so and I stupidly sat there and watched it happen again. Eventually I did hang up but I didn't block him. I just put my phone on do not disturb and tried to fall asleep. Before doing so I cried. I let out all of the fear and frustration that had been building up inside of me for the last week. When I woke up I had nearly 50 messages from Alex. I didn't even bother reading them. I just got up, made myself some breakfast and went on with my day, answering texts from other people but not from him. Sometime in the early evening I received a text from Alex saying that it was a beautiful day and he wished he could spend it with me. Now I was mad. What did he not understand about this?

This is over, I replied, telling him that I didn't want to talk. He claimed he understood and left me alone for another hour. Facebook Messenger blew up with the messages and video call requests. I seriously wanted to just throw my phone into the bathtub. What was with this guy? I ignored everything and even went on Facebook and began liking quotes that said things like people come and go that's life and everything happens for a reason. Passive aggressive and immature I know, but I didn't know what else to do. Fast forward to the next day, Alex had managed to persuade me to meet up with him on campus to talk in person.

At first I was obviously against it, until I began to think that maybe if he saw my face, saw how serious I looked and heard how stern my voice sounded in person, he would finally get the hint and leave me alone for good. Honestly, if there was ever a time I needed to listen to my conscience, this was it, yet I still chose to ignore it. We met up in the same spot we did the week prior. He looked happy to see me again, but not as happy as he did last time. It was a more of a so-relieved-you-agreed-to-see-me-one-last-time smile. There were also tears in his eyes. He seemed calm, and even though his voice kept cracking, he held himself together fairly well. That is, until a sudden urge to kiss me came over him. I backed away and angrily asked him why he'd kiss me. He said he couldn't help it. I firmly told him that I didn't want him to do that again or to touch me again at all.

He agreed but started crying again, not sobbing uncontrollably just silent tears running down his face. I hate the fact that I have a big heart. It made me feel so gullible and put me in the worst situation sometimes. I felt bad for him. He asked if we could go inside the building closest to us and just sit and talk for a few minutes. I hesitated but eventually agreed mainly because it had just started to snow and I was freezing. We went inside and he led me into one of the staircases towards the back of the building. Why I didn't protest and suggest we sit somewhere more public I didn't know. We sat down on the stairs together and he went on to tell me how sorry he was for the way things had gone with us.

He admitted that he thought I was the one for him. He told me that nobody, not even his ex who he once loved very dearly compared to me. He said there was something about me that drove him crazy, that made him feel on top of the world. Being a hopeless romantic, I absolutely wanted to hear all of this from somebody, just not from him. After these confessions he went into how all he wanted was to love and cherish somebody since nobody in his life ever really loved or cherished him. He had a difficult relationship with his mother and his father had passed away a few years ago. He was closest with his grandparents although they live far away and he didn't get to see them often he had never been in a long-term relationship and hoped that one day he would find somebody whose love matched his it was heartbreaking to hear and also somewhat relatable i didn't have the

best relationship with my mother either and also longed for a long-term happy relationship however i wasn't about to force a connection that clearly wasn't there. I couldn't say much else to console him before he started getting into much deeper and darker things. He told me how he had a great group of friends, not our college friends, but high school and middle school friends he still spoke to and hung out with. He told me how they were good sorts who sometimes just got into trouble for stupid things. When I asked what kind of stupid things I expected to hear things like smoking or getting arrested for speeding or something.

I didn't expect to hear things like armed robberies and accidental shootings. Alex also revealed to me that he almost beat a guy to death for messing with his cousin when they were younger. Chills ran through me and I wanted to leave. I tried not to act too shaken and continued consoling him as he started to cry again. He then showed me a large stab wound on his shoulder which I had noticed the day we hung out in his apartment and was originally told was from surgery. He said he was trying to protect a friend from being stabbed one night and ended up becoming the victim himself. He claimed he almost beat the guy to death too and would willingly do it again to anybody who messed with him or his crew. He said he didn't care if he took a life or two.

At this point, I felt sick. I was so freaked out that I told him that I had to leave. I apologized and let him know that I appreciated him opening up to me but that I was feeling really uncomfortable. His face changed. He looked angry and his dark brown eyes seemed almost sinister. He gave me the same glare he had given me the other night on video chat. I tried to sidestep him but he grabbed my arm tightly. I demanded that he let me go where I would scream but he just swung me around and threw me back onto the stairs. He grabbed my throat and told me I wasn't going anywhere and that he wasn't done talking yet. I started crying and begging for him to just leave me alone.

I swore to him that I wouldn't tell anybody about this, but he didn't listen or care. He started kissing my neck and moaning, telling me that I'm a good listener, which was a huge turn on for him. I didn't have any pepper spray or a taser or anything on me, so I was ultimately defenseless. Such a good girl, such a good angel, he whispered in my ear, his hand still on my neck. My brain finally snapped out of its frozen state and I realized that I had to do something, anything to save myself. I couldn't yell or scream, not with his hands around my neck. I reached over for my purse and hit him as hard as I could over the head with it. He grunted and released my neck, now holding his hands over the

place where I just hit him. I took this opportunity to jab my knee as hard as I could into his groin, which did the trick. He doubled over in pain and I quickly snatched up my purse and bolted out the side door. I didn't stop sprinting until I reached the bus stop where a bunch of students began asking me if I was okay and what had happened. I breathlessly told them the shortest version I could about what I'd just been through before a panic attack overtook me. Campus security and the police were called and Alex was taken away in handcuffs. I was sent to the hospital to be evaluated and thankfully, apart from some minor bruising around my neck, I was okay.

It's been two years since everything that happened. The reason I'm finally putting this story out there after so much time is because I recently received a friend request from Alex from a new Facebook account. Still traumatized, this triggered my anxiety big time, but this time around I knew exactly what to do and didn't hesitate to stop a repeat of these events. I had blocked his old account along with every other social media profile he has. His new profile had been blocked as well and I've amped up my social media privacy as much as possible. I don't know if I'll continue to receive requests from this maniac but I pray he'll finally take the hint and leave me alone. My college friends and I have drifted a little bit but I know for a fact that they have all cut Alex completely out of their lives. I also am not sure if he's received the help he so desperately needed, but I sincerely hope that he's changed

and is a much better person now, although I highly't explain. My parents helped me put the pieces together, but it was still weird that it happened this way. When I was about five or six years old, I was at the park. It was a sunny day, and I was getting ready to go on a zipline when I spot a kid on a zipline like a piece of equipment. The kid loses his grip. Now here comes the weird part. Before, all I remember was being carried to the car and taken home.

Only years later did I ask what really happened. The kid I saw fell and landed on his arm pretty hard. I unfortunately broke his arm and I was about to ask him what was wrong when my mom picked me up and took me home. What gets me is how did that completely leave my memory? I've never had an injury that would cause any sort of memory loss. I'll even admit knowing that the memory is still fuzzy to this day. But what do you guys think went on? No doubt it's weird but I felt I should get it out there. This story happened when I was 16. I had just

gotten my first job in my local cinema. I started off working on the concession stand and I for the most part enjoyed my job. I got along well with everyone who worked there, especially my supervisor who was a young boy who was only two years older than me. We'll call him Tim for this story. Even the management team was good and really friendly, especially my one manager who we will call Sam for the sake of keeping his identity a secret. I had been working there for about 8 months, in the process I turned 17. When all of this began, one night I was put on the work the clothes shift, this was a mistake

on my GM's part I later find out. I didn't complain and work my shift. Clean down didn't take too long and me and my other colleagues were done at about midnight. After finishing we go and sit in the office with Sam to keep him company while he cashed up our till to make sure it was all correct. Once he confirmed it was correct we were allowed to leave. My family were unable to pick me up that night because my mom's car had broken down. My grandparents were away on holiday and my stepdad was a complete jerk. So I began to walk away. I began to call a taxi but Sam called me back into the office and said he would drive me home. I objected politely but he insisted. So once he finished up, he walked with me to his car and we began to drive to my house, which was a half an hour drive. The whole time he kept his hands

firmly on the wheel, so much his knuckles were almost turning white. Let's put on some music on, shall we? He says. He had a weird tone in his voice, i just nod my head it was nice of him to give me a lift home so i'm not reading into it he put on some weird kind of music which i could only describe as sexual and i could feel him looking at me all the time every time i turned to look out the window or to look at my phone to message Tim. Who are you texting? He asked with a bit of a harsh tone. I was taken aback as he had never really used that tone in the eight months that I had known him.

Even when telling people off, he still sounded sweet. Oh, I'm just messaging Tim. We both want to go and see that new film, so we're about to go tomorrow. I say, still confused. Oh, like a date then? I'd watch out for Tim if I was you. He's a player and he's not going to appreciate the amazing and beautiful girl that you are. Sam says beginning to sound really jealous at this point. I now feel super awkward and looking out the window the whole ride home. The drive felt like it took forever but eventually we got to mine and I thanked him for the lift and he sped off. Now that I thought, that was really weird.

I told Tim about this and he agreed with me that it was weird, even for Sam. A few days later, Sam found my Instagram page and requested to follow me. Nothing unusual. I had nearly every person who worked in the cinema on Facebook and Instagram if they had it, but as soon as I accepted Sam, he began to message me and comment on how attractive I was. I would never class myself as amazingly attractive but with some makeup I do look quite pretty. Now as I mentioned before I am now a 17 year old girl and my manager Sam was in his mid 30's. He carried on commenting on how cute he thought I was and how beautiful I was often calling me babe and letting me know what he was thinking about. I carried on working there until I reached 18, and then I handed in my notice and went to work for a world-famous bar franchise. I was happy to be out of there and away from him,

as when I hit 18, he began telling me how much of an amazing body I had, and how he could look at me for hours. Once I left, I thought that that would be the end of it. Once I left I stayed in contact with Tim and he said how Sam had blamed him for me leaving and he was making it difficult for him to work there. I had been in my new job for about 4 months at this point when I get a message on Instagram for Sam telling me how all of my sexy outfit videos were the highlight of his day and how much he missed looking at my little body. I ignored him and carried on with my job.

He kept offering to give me a lift home and about how that night when he gave me a lift home he wanted to kiss me and make his move. I asked him to leave me alone at this point telling him if he didn't stop I would report him but his messages got more graphic and he went into detail what he wanted to do to me. All the things he fantasized about. I decided at this point I had had enough and blocked him but he made another account and once I would block that one he would make another and then another and safe to say the guy is set on having me. I'm 21 years old now and he's still messaging me. I'm a 17 year old male. I live in a small town with a lot of forest and wood so it's pretty common to see hunters out and around town with their gear.

Hunting's pretty big in our town and with that comes a few days off early in the school year just for kids to go hunting with their family. Me telling you all of this will make much more sense pretty soon and will help you make do of our situation. So about a year ago I was with a small group of close friends named Ethan, Zach and Josh. Since our towns are so boring we have to make do with what we have. That leads to more illegal activities like exploring abandoned buildings, since our town has a lot of those. It was getting pretty dark out, and all of us decided to leave Zach's house and go to an abandoned cabin in the woods that our friend earlier that day was telling us about. We texted him and got the address and unfortunately he could not go with us that night but told us it's a pretty steep muddy walk up through the woods to get there so wear

bad shoes. With that info we drove about 20 minutes out into the countryside of the town so no cars were really coming past us at this point and luckily got to the destination as our phones lost service right at this point. We found a good place to park on the side of the road and tread our way up the steep hill. Our friend was right and it took us a while to get up but the walk was worth it because ahead of us was a beautiful cabin with custom wooden carved statues out in front of the house and a unique copper roofing. Any first analysis made me think this was a vacation home because of the size of the structure, but was too torn up on the side of the house to be anything at this point. I wouldn't say the building could be called abandoned because all it needed was a little renovation to be good as new. Of course, we were going to pass up on such a location to explore and walk through the broken

wall to get in. It led us to the inside main living room, which without context of the outer house you would think it was a hotel lobby. We turned on our phone flashlights because it had gotten darker outside and didn't help the inside's interior lighting. We took videos and snapchats of the place and made our way to the basement after Zack called us to it. We all were a bit jumpy and nervous at this point but had to see what was down there. I couldn't explain why I left so anxious because the place didn't give off horror movie vibes but something about the chill and coldness of the basement seeping through the bottom of the door was very odd explain why I left so anxious because the place didn't give off horror movie vibes but something about the chill and coldness of the basement seeping through the bottom of the door was very

odd especially since it was so warm outside. After a bit of arguing over whether we should leave the door closed and move on our way we decided to open it. Ethan was the one to man up and slowly edge the door open. We all got instantly quieted and started to slowly push each other down the steps. It was very dark but a green glowing light around the corner wall of the steps was flickering in and out. I was leading the group and as I go to turn my head to see what was down there a huge stomping sound charges me and I flip my head around and I scream to run. We all bolted up the steps and hear stomping behind us. We run to the hill and as I get ready to dip down the hill Zach drops down and stares at the house. Whoever was behind us was not behind us anymore and I I dropped beside Zach, Josh, and Ethan.

In a normal situation, people would leave, but as I said before, this town is very boring, and we never get to have this much going on in our normal life. It was so dark that the person could not have seen us, which was good, but also bad because we wouldn't be able to see them. We lay there in silence for a moment and stare at the house. We all hold our breath as we hear something scraping the wood inside the house. A man comes out dragging something in a large trash bag. It could have been a body but Zach said it could have been a deer. Me and Ethan, being how we are, instantly assumed it was a body. The man seemed in a hurry and dragged whatever was in the bag onto a four-wheeler which we didn't notice earlier at the front of the house. What was strange though is when he turned the lights on the

vehicle and in front of it on the road was a tremendous amount of blood covering the pavement and looked as if though something was dragged across it to create the blood trail. And as he drove away, I got a better look at the bag and noticed it could not have been a deer because it was too small and extended farther outwards instead of more large scale like an animal would be. After watching all of this go down, we went back down to the car and went home. About a year later, we don't think much about it, but it was recently brought up in a conversation with kids at school, and no one believes us after all of us swearing that it happened.

We didn't end up telling our parents or police about this situation because of the fear of getting in trouble, and none of this did really amount to anything other than us getting scared but I wanted to share this experience to see what everyone else thinks about it. Hey friends thanks for listening. Be sure to subscribe and click that notification bell to be alerted of all future narrations. If you got a story, be sure to submit them to my subreddit, rLetsReadOfficial, and give and receive feedback from the community, and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video, and join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. If you want to support me even more, grab early access to all future narrations for

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