The Lets Read Podcast - 70: Episode 061 | Halloween & Motel Room Stories | 24 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: May 4, 2020

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

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If you have questions or concerns about gambling or someone close to you, please contact Connex Ontario at 1-866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. Years ago now, a few mates and me had managed to secure an invite to a Halloween house party. We didn't really know anyone else there, having only secured the invite because one of us worked with a girl whose student house it was. But since it was literally the only house party we could actually get into, we weren't arguing. A big thing about house parties is, the older you get, the harder it is to find a good one. Most people make their big house party mistake earlier in life and vow never ever to have one again.

So the idea of one big hurrah before we started on that late 20s, early 30s, quiet drinks bollocks was wildly appealing. We agreed to meet up in my flat for some pre-drinks and get changed into our various costumes. Fancy dress was a must, according to our mate's colleague. You have never seen such awful Halloween costumes in all your life. One lad just bought a wig and badly applied his mom's makeup, claiming to be Frankenfurder from Rocky Horror Picture Show. But without having the stones to rent the suspenders and corset he just looked like he was in the middle of a bad sex change. Another fella just threw on some old army cadet gear so he could be a soldier or whatever.

But it had been a good couple of years since he'd last put it on and he was considerably wider around the waist. So what I suppose was meant to be intimidating just ended up looking completely ridiculous. The winner, without a doubt, was our mate Danny, who'd actually pulled off a pretty convincing Michael Myers costume. So for those that don't know, the mask used in the film Halloween is actually a Captain Kurt Star Trek mask that the prop guys roughed up a little. Yep, one of the most iconic images in horror comes from a crummy piece of sci-fi merch. Crazy, right? Anyway, Danny had actually managed to get his hands on a replica

of said mask from his older brother, who was and is something of a horror freak. Then all he had to do was borrow a set of his dad's old mechanic overalls, get hold of a plastic butcher's knife, and he actually looked the real deal. So after we've filled our bellies full of cheap supermarket lager, we make our move for the house party. The place the party was at was only like a five to ten minute walk from my flat, so we decided to walk around to soak up a bit of the Halloween atmosphere. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a few rooms full of people

chatting away with a bit of music playing meekly in a back room, but the closer we got to the right street, the more we could hear this thumping bass sound drifting through the air. Imagine if that was the party we're going to, one of us joked. But it was the party. We're in the middle of this actual residential area, all of the other houses are settled in for the night, and there's this one house with its door wide open, people in costume wandering in and out. These colored lights, a smoke machine, even an actual bloody DJ set up in a bedroom with speakers all through the house. Enjoy it while it lasts, boys. I can guarantee you the police are on their way. Right now. One of us said.

Laughing, we piled into the house and started mingling with complete strangers. I won't deny it. They might have been posh kids from down south, but they knew how to throw a party. They actually laughed at us when they realized we'd brought our own beer. The host taking us into the back garden to show us these buckets full of beer and ice water, we were welcome to drink as much as we liked. In exchange, we put our room temperature cans into their fridge as a kind of communal offering. Yeah, we met a few snobs sneering with the who invited you look in our direction, but mostly people were lovely, especially when they found out we'd brought a special kind of tobacco

with us. We drank long into the night somehow. The police didn't actually turn up for the first few hours. They must have been busy with the other more criminal stuff but eventually turn up they did. But honestly it was all part of the experience. It's not a true house party unless the busy bodies show up. They were actually pretty cool about the whole thing too. They didn't shout, they didn't stop, search or arrest anyone. They just told us there had been a noise complaint and we had to clear out if we didn't leave there. They didn't stop, search, or arrest anyone. They just told us there had been a noise complaint and we had to clear out if we didn't leave there. They even laughed when someone in the crowd anonymously shouted, are you the male strippers we hired? And this is where the story gets weird.

So throughout the party, our mate Danny had been kind of in character, walking silently and scarily into rooms, moving his head all slow as he looked around, just like Michael Myers. He'd then break into some weird dance and have people laughing, but it's important to know that he seemed to be enjoying playing the part. Anyway, we all managed to find each other in the throngs of people outside, despite being absolutely smashed. Only, we're not exactly ready to call it a night. So, we decide to walk quite a bit of our way to visit the 24-hour off-license to buy more booze. So, the whole way, Danny doesn't say a word.

It might be worth mentioning that he isn't the most talkative when he's sober, so when he's angry he pretty much says nothing at all. Just does his signature wheeze laugh when anything amusing happens. So just as we're outside the off-license, queuing by the little hatch to get served, I notice something unusual about Danny's toy butcher knife. I swear he had a fake one at the start of the night but right then I noticed the knife in his hand is bloody real. Before the fellow in the off he notices and calls the police thinking it's real I slowly take the knife out of his hand having a sort of mini freak out that the bell end would be daft enough to steal a real knife from the house party. Right then, like something out of a movie, my phone starts going in my pocket.

I pull it out and on the screen is the name, Danny. Now, I'm still bladdered at this point, so my first thought is that Danny lost his phone or something and someone is calling my number, the last person he'd call, to let them know where to safely find it. So I answer with something like, yeah I know, my mate's an idiot, I hope he's not stolen anything else. But the voice on the other end is Danny. Definitely, definitely Danny asking where we've gone. He passed out in the bathroom of that student's house and had only just been kicked out of. Cue an actual bloody freakout as I point the knife at this total bloody stranger and demand to know who they are. It all hits me at once.

The guy had gloves on. Danny didn't. The strange guy had actual boots on. Danny just had black trainers. My mates have no idea what's going on. As far as they know, I'm on the verge of ending one of our closest mate's lives. But when they too realize what's going on, they too start freaking out on the fella, asking him what he was planning on doing with that knife, following us halfway around town like a proper creep.

The lad ended up laying it down the street as we chased him. I've no idea what we were going to do, but we were angry and scared. So I'm sort of glad we didn't catch up to him. Halloween used to be my favorite time of the year.

I was kind of a horror freak. I loved horror novels, movies, and games. I spent hours absorbing all the YouTube creepypasta stories I could find. But that all changed one Halloween night when myself and a few friends found something that would change our lives forever. This is the story of the Dead House. I always did love that air of chaos that presents on Halloween night. That twisted, festive feeling that adds a spark of excitement to an otherwise dark and dreary time of the year. We were too old to be trick-or-treating, but we still wanted to wander the streets and soak up the atmosphere. Besides, there's a lot you can get away with in costume, especially when you pour your bottle of adult beverage into a Mountain Dew bottle and label

it spooky juice. Our buddy Spike had comprehensively won our internal costume contest with his own homemade proton pack and Ghostbusters jumpsuit. He'd spent weeks on it, watching little YouTube painting tutorials and binge-watching the movies for minor details. It looked amazing and he wasn't about to miss out on the opportunity to show the thing off. So off we went, wandering around the neighborhood and eating store-bought candy. Since we were way too old to be trick-or-treating, part of the fun of these Halloween walkabouts was seeing the spectacular ways that fellow

Halloween enthusiasts had decorated their houses. Over the years it became something of a competition, and each year the decorations became more and more elaborate. I remember one family had gone as far as digging a small pit in their front lawn. They put some red lights in there, then covered the thing over with wooden boards that were complete with fake zombie fingers reaching out between the slats. It looked amazing, and we found ourselves joining a gaggle of parents and taking selfies with the chillingly original decoration. We saw some pretty impressive stuff that evening, from fake bodies hanging from trees to chained up dogs that had been dressed up as adorable little hounds. But nothing caught our attention like the house at the end of Bachman Street. So a lot of you have heard of these hell houses

that crop up around Halloween every year, the most infamous being these guerrilla operations where people can make a few bucks while indulging in a little of the Halloween spirit. So when you saw the house at the end of Bachman Street with its doors wide open, we figured it was just part of the display. A couple was heading away from the house looking pretty scared

so we asked them what the deal was with the front door being left open. Oh man, they really went all out this year, one of the pair said. It's so realistic in there. We left a few dollars on the table as a thank you. There's no tip jar anywhere so you guys gotta see it though. On that we agreed. Something that was actually scary, right here in our own neighborhood? We had to see it. We studied the house intently as we wandered down the street towards it.

The facade was barely decorated compared to the others we'd seen. Just a carved pumpkin and a few plastic hanging skeletons were all we could see on approach, but there was something odd about the way the cars were parked in the driveway, something weirdly chaotic. Anyway, we wander up to the front door, peering inside before entering, but again, there doesn't seem to be any extensive decoration on the inside either.

That all changes once we enter the kitchen. One of the dining chairs was dripping with gore, ropes around the armrests hanging freely as they'd been cut away from someone's arms. Laid on the table nearby were all kinds of bloody kitchen utensils, some still clogged with shredded flesh. Flies buzzed around us, landing on the body and various bloodstains around the room. Wow, one of us said softly. You can see where they use corn syrup to make the blood. House flies love that stuff. How did they get that kind of stink up in there? Another asked.

But we didn't put too much thought into it. We were so overwhelmed and impressed that we just carried on moving through the house. The living room was somehow even more disturbing than the kitchen. Sat on a small dark wood coffee table was a kind of homemade doll. It was a cluster of roots and twigs, all bound and woven together with reeds and dry grass. The face of the thing was made of clay, a single shiny stone pushed into it,

resembling a kind of cyclopean eye. Arranged around it in a perfect circle were severed fingers, toes, and plucked out eyes. There was also a cluster of dollar bills from the couple's recent visit. I took out my wallet, taking out a few old singles before asking around to see if my buddies had anything to leave as a kind of thank you. There must have been about $14 in ones and twos in my hand by the time I let it drop onto the coffee table. Oh come on, let's see the upstairs then get out of here, this place is giving me the creeps. I said. My buddies wouldn't let me hear the end of it. Scared by a family run hell house, what an idiot. But when we saw the kids bedroom, they were scared too.

Inside, sitting among a carpet of stuffies and kids toys, was a man. At first, all we could see was the back of him. He had long, thin gray hair and had somehow fit himself into a little girl's pink frilly nightgown. We all froze in the doorway, staring wide-eyed as the creepy-looking old guy just sat there, playing with the toys, putting on little childish voices as he played at making them talk to one another. It was one of the most disturbing things I'd ever seen in my entire life. Whoever had thought that character up must have had one seriously disturbed imagination. The man turned still as a statue for a moment, sensing our presence behind him When we turned, we saw his milky white eyes, blackening teeth, and ran for the door

We weren't exactly terrified, but we were still spooked and laughing nervously to ourselves as we bounded back into the street outside But as we began to walk back out of the cul-de-sac road blue and red lights began to flash before our eyes it was the cops screaming down past us down the street before rushing into the house we just left there was nothing remotely fake about that house the old man was an escaped psychiatric patient who had lived in the house as a child. The newspaper said he busted out of the institution he was being held in before he walked 30 miles into town back to his childhood home. He must have thought the people living there were intruders. At knife point, he tied them up and tortured them till he finished them.

We never found out what happened to the kids inside the house and quite frankly, I'm not sure I could handle it. Timothy O'Brien lived with his family in Deer Park, Texas, with his parents and little sister. His father, Ronald O'Brien, worked as an optician at Texas State Optical in Sharpston, Houston. He was the deacon at the Second Baptist Church, where he also sang in the choir. He was a trusted member of the community, being placed in charge of the local bus program. On Halloween night of 1974, O'Brien took Timothy and his sister trick-or-treating in a Pasadena, Texas neighborhood, along with his neighbor and their two children. When the group knocked at a house but the occupants failed to answer, the children grew frustrated and skipped ahead to the next home in search of candy. When O'Brien caught up

with them, they showed him five 21-inch pixie sticks they had been given. When they returned home later in the evening, the young Timothy asked if he could eat one of the candy he and his friends had collected, opting for the huge pixie sticks he had prized so dearly. The young boy had trouble getting the powdered candy out of the plastic straw that contained it, so his father helped him loosen the sugary powder before offering it to him. When he ate it, Timothy remarked that the candy had a bitter flavor, so his father fetched him a glass of Kool-Aid to wash away the unpleasant taste. But this was followed by Timothy complaining that his stomach hurt.

Ronald took his son to the bathroom where he immediately began to violently vomit but the discomfort did not ease and soon the young boy was shaking and convulsing after collapsing to the bathroom floor. Ronald held his son close but he soon went limp in his arms. Timothy O'Brien died on his way to a nearby hospital, just less than an hour after consuming the candy. Timothy's autopsy revealed that the pixie stick he consumed was laced with a fatal dose of potassium cyanide. There was enough cyanide in his system to kill three to four fully grown adults. Timothy's death from the apparent poisoned Halloween candy prompted intense fear and paranoia in the local community. Numerous parents in Deer Park and the

surrounding area promptly returned all of the candy their children acquired from trick-or-treating to the police, for fear it was laced with the same deadly poison. During police interviews, Ronald O'Brien claimed that he could not remember exactly which house gave the children the pixie stick. However, the group of adults and children had only visited two streets worth of homes due to heavy rain that had begun to fall that evening. This narrowed down the search considerably. Houses were searched, recent receipts seized as evidence. Yet suspicions were raised when it was discovered that none of the homes the group visited were giving out pixie

sticks. Police accompanied Ronald O'Brien through the neighborhood in question several times. Each time he led them to the home that the group had visited, but those occupants did not answer the door. There, Ronald claimed that he had in fact revisited the house before he caught up with the children. He claimed that the owner had cracked the door open, that he inside of the house was dark, and a hairy, scarred arm reached out and handed him all five of the 21-inch pixie sticks. Police discovered the homeowner in question was a man by the name of Courtney Melvin. Melvin was employed as an air traffic controller at nearby Hobby Airport and asserted

under questioning that he did not get home from work until 11 p.m. on the night of the 31st. When nearly 200 witnesses confirmed this, Courtney Melvin was rolled out as a potential suspect. But as their investigation continued, police made a shocking discovery that turned all theories upside down. It was learned that Ronald O'Brien was actually more than $100,000 in debt after a history of being unable to hold down a steady paying job. In the 10 years previous to the death of his son, Ronald had held a grand total of 21 jobs. During interviews with his current employers, police were told by Ronald's bosses that he was suspected of workplace theft from Texas State Optical and was dangerously close to being fired. His car was on the verge of being repossessed.

He had defaulted on several bank loans, which had in turn led to the family home being foreclosed on. Although he presented himself as the clean-cut pastor, Ronald's life was a mess of lies and deceit. It was discovered that Ronald O'Brien had taken out life insurance policies on his children in the months preceding the poisoning. One $10,000 policy with two additional $20,000 policies on both children. This was in spite of the advice given by the insurance agencies not to do so.

When asked, Deneen O'Brien, the mother of Timothy and Ronald's wife, claimed she was completely unaware of any insurance policies on her children's lives. The final clue came when police learned that Ronald O'Brien had stopped by a chemical supply store in Houston and asked to purchase cyanide. However, he left empty-handed when he learned the smallest amount purchasable was five pounds. Despite repeatedly protesting his own innocence, O'Brien was now a major suspect. Texas police never did find out just where or when Ronald O'Brien had bought the cyanide that he used on his son, but regardless, on November 5th, 1974, he was arrested for Timothy's murder. Ronald was charged with one count of capital murder and four counts of attempted murder, given that the other children were in extreme danger of

consuming the poison intended for Timothy. He entered a plea of not guilty to all five counts. During the trial, a chemist who was familiar with O'Brien claimed that he had contacted him the previous summer regarding lethal dosages of cyanide. Another chemist took the stand testifying that Ronald had asked him how he could go about purchasing the deadly chemical. Additionally, Ronald's friends and co-workers also said that in the months preceding Timothy's death, Ronald had shown an unusual interest in cyanide and spoke about how much it would take to end a person's life. Those that attended Timothy's funeral told the court how Ronald had casually talked of taking a long vacation, only possible through the money

accrued from Timothy's life insurance policies. O'Brien continued to maintain his innocence throughout the trial. Bizarrely, his defense hinged on the decades-old urban legend of the Mad Poisoner, who was purported to hand out Halloween candy laced with needles, broken glass, razor blades, or poison. Despite absolutely no documentation of such malice, these stories have persisted among those with a rich imagination. On June 3rd, 1975, a jury took just 46 minutes to find O'Brien guilty of capital murder. The jury then took just over an hour to sentence him to death. Shortly after he was convicted, his wife filed for divorce. She later remarried and her new husband adopted their surviving daughter, Elizabeth. The case and subsequent trial garnered national attention and the press

gave Ronald O'Brien a nickname I'm sure you'll all be familiar with. The Candyman. In the early afternoon of Halloween 2010, Ohio resident Devin Griffin was returning home after a brisk Sunday morning of singing in his local church's choir. He never missed a Sunday service, and this All Hallows Eve would be no exception. After walking through the front door of his family home, the 16-year-old trudged up to his bedroom to relax and play video games. It was something of a routine for him. Getting up early on a Sunday meant a guilt-free afternoon of online gaming with his friends. After a few hours of gaming, Devin took a quick break to grab a snack but began to notice something unusual about the household. It was just past 1.30 in the afternoon when Devin started to wonder where his family was. His mother, Susan Lisk, worked night shifts so it wasn't entirely unusual for her to sleep late into the morning.

But never did she stay in bed until the early afternoon. Out of curiosity, Devin wandered downstairs from his attic room and knocked on the door of the family's home's master bedroom. There was no answer, but that didn't stop him. Devin opened the door to see his mother lying in bed next to his stepfather, William Liss Sr. A maroon comforter was pulled over their heads. In a soft voice, Devin began to ask if they were planning on getting out of bed anytime soon. Again, there was no response. He walked around to her side of the bed and saw his mother's foot jutting out from underneath the goose-down duvet. He tapped on it.

Again, no response. As Devin continued to talk, he instinctually pulled down the covers a little. It was her pillow. It was soaked with blood. For a moment or two, Devin could not compute what he was seeing. He later told detectives that he thought it was just some Halloween prank, albeit one done in extremely bad taste. But as he continued to look, he saw the large wound in her neck, dark clots of blood forming around it. Devin ran screaming from the

house, frantically begging neighbors to summon emergency medical services. Upon his arrival, Ottawa County Sheriff Bob Bratton said 53-year-old William Lisk, his 46-year-old wife Susan Lisk, as well as her 23-year-old son Derek Griffin, were all found murdered. A preliminary coroner's exam had indicated that their deaths were caused either by gunshot or a blunt object. A suspect identified as 24-year-old William List Jr., thought to be the son of the murdered father from his previous marriage, was arrested almost 200 miles away and was initially charged with only one count of murder in the first degree. After receiving a tip that the suspect killer would be hiding out in the log cabin owned by a distant family member, Deputy Michael Balash was ordered

to pay the cabin a visit. Upon his arrival, the deputy spotted a white Ford pickup truck matching the description given of the vehicle List Jr. would be driving. When he approached the man's residence, it's reported that after List Jr. casually walked out of the brown single-story cabin, still smoking a cigarette as he leaned against a porch post. Debbie Belash then pulled in with gun drawn, took List to the ground and held him at gunpoint until backup arrived to assist with handcuffing the suspect. Carroll County Sheriff Dale Williams said that evidence was found on the suspect that also indicated that

he was guilty of killing his stepmother and stepbrother. But to those that knew William Lisk Jr., the murders hardly came as a surprise. As early as 2002, his father Bill had called law enforcement on more than one occasion because the then 16-year-old had threatened to harm himself. The boy was on house arrest at the time for other offenses. According to police records, Lisk Jr. proceeded to attack the responding officers when they arrived and later faced charges in juvenile court of assault on a peaceful officer. Then, in October 2004, Liss Jr. got into a violent altercation with his stepmother and struck her hard into the chest. Two months later, police charged him with felonious assault and robbery for allegedly hitting his stepmother Susan with a coffee cup before stealing her car keys. He was found incompetent to stand trial on those charges, which were eventually

dropped. List Jr. had at least three more encounters with the police after he moved to a group home for mental health patients. Among those incidents was a physical fight between Lisk Jr. and his father after Bill Lisk drove to the group home to pick him up. In the immediate aftermath, police struggled to establish a clear motive for the killings. It was clear from their records that Lisk Jr. had repeated run-ins with law enforcement that included jail time and mental health treatment. But what exactly drove the young man to commit such an act of senseless cruelty and malice to his own parents? In the course of the investigation, it came to light that Susan Lisk had filed a police report against her stepson, claiming that he had assaulted her. The report was filed less than a month before her murder. It is entirely possible that this

had been the final straw for Lisk Jr.'s father. His past entirely possible that this had been the final straw for List Jr.'s father. His past behavior and drug use had been antisocial to say the least, but William Sr. had fought time and time again to prevent his son becoming trapped in a cycle of addiction and incarceration. However, to assault his own stepmother was without a doubt a bridge too far in court list jr admitted he was guilty of all three counts of murder in the first degree a judge then quickly sentenced him to serve three life sentences with no chance of parole without shedding a tear list told a courtroom filled with those who knew and loved his father, stepmother, and stepbrother that he could not explain why he brutally murdered them on that fateful Halloween.

I love my dad very much and it makes me feel sick every time I think about what I did, Liss said. I can't really explain why this all had to happen, but I think most of all of it had to do with my mental illness. Lisk Jr.'s defense attorney said it was ridiculous that his client could be declared legally sane, especially when he had a history of poor mental health. He said it's unknown whether Lisk was taking the medication that was prescribed for his schizoaffective disorder on the night of the murders, although he had been drinking alcohol. Clearly he should have not been provided alcohol, something that was a constant problem in his life, the mixture of alcohol and his mental illness. Lisk Jr.'s sister, Lisa Curl, told the court that her family's lives had been changed forever. We just don't understand how something like this could happen.

You see stuff like this on TV and think it will never happen to your family. You love someone so much and then they take something away from you. I just don't know how you could do it when he loved you so much. On March 31st of 2015, William List Jr. was found dead in his cell at Ross Correctional Institution in Chillicothe, Ohio, from a self-inflicted injury. He was 29 years old. Back in high school, just after the start of my junior year, me and some buddies got the Halloween spirit pretty heavy. We were obsessed with metal and horror movies. They were all we talked about. So throughout the month of October we got into visiting creepy places and holding these like do-it-yourself parties. Literally a group of

about 30 of us would carpool to some abandoned house one weekend or to some secluded forest the next, spending the days at school in between searching for more places like this in the area. Anyhow, given that we weren't necessarily believers in the supernatural, we had this cavalier nature about us when it came to potential hauntings. At some point, a friend of mine was several years older than me told me about how he and his friends would do similar things when they were young. His childhood home backed up to a huge farm and he and his friends would spend their days fishing or hanging out on this farm, so they were quite familiar with it.

The owner, apparently a very religious man, a priest or pastor maybe, had owned the farm in a small house on the property. The story went that the owner had been locked up for murder and died in prison, leaving the farm to whomever and it wasn't kept up. However, upon hearing the news of this man's demise, my friend told me that he and his friends had decided to go into this house. I guess the windows had been busted out as they managed to unlock a door and just walk in. He described them fooling around and trying to scare one another, but he had decided to walk up the stairs and upon his reaching the second floor, he saw a coffin in the main open room. The way he had explained it to me was that he didn't know

what it was immediately and sort of sauntered over to check it out, only to have the sudden flash of realization that this was an actual coffin in an abandoned house. I suppose he and his friends made a quick retreat from the house. Of course, he told this part of the story much better, peppering in more details about the man who owned the property that gave the story that mythical lore sort of feel. I remember being frightened by his delivery and sincerity though it is quite likely he had rehearsed it before for occasions like this. This story had taken place 15 years or so previous to him telling me. I told one of my adventurous cohorts the story and

we thought it would be a good idea to investigate it to see if the guy was actually telling the truth. So one Halloween we packed his car, snacks and supplies, then set off to set the record straight. I knew where this person had lived, so we assumed we could simply walk behind his house, find the farm, then find the house. We had a grand plan to bring the whole group out on the weekend, but we weren't sure if we were being strung on a lie or if this place was still there if it were true. Anyhow, after football practice one weekday, he and I drove out to the street my friend lived on. There was definitely a farm behind his and his entire street's homes. That part he had been telling the truth about. We decided to go ahead and sneak through someone's yard and onto the farm to see if the house was there.

Once we made it through the manicured suburban yard and through the brush separating the farm, we were knee-deep in an overgrown field. We sort of hacked our way through a bit and sure enough as we made it to the edge of the hill, the house was only a hundred or so yards away. We had made it that far so we decided to go in and investigate. As we approached this house, there was a huge black bird perched on its roof. Once we were within twenty feet of the house, the bird flew away from the house and perched upon a tree adjacent to the house. Being a bit nervous, we began questioning why the bird had made such an odd

move, but thought better of making a big deal about it. Now, this house is the prototypical haunted house. It had that quaint historical look to it, with the broken windows, eerie shadows, and sort of ominous stature one associates with the haunted house. There was even a grave marker in the front yard. So again, we were increasingly nervous as with the haunted house. There was even a grave marker in the front yard. So again, we were increasingly nervous as we approached this house. The door was jammed shut, but the window had been completely removed, so we played rock, paper, scissors for who would climb through first. I had the luxury of going in second, but did so quickly as being on the porch by myself was just as unsettling.

The inside of the house had literally not been touched. Besides weather damage, most everything was intact. There were pictures and decorations still up with a bit of furniture remaining. We eventually became comfortable with being inside and began to snoop around. Of course, we were fearful of trekking upstairs, afraid to find something we didn't want to find. Alas, we squeamishly crept up the stairs to find an empty space. At this point, we became at ease with walking around the house, laughing off the ghost story mystique. As we looked through the main floor again, I noticed that there was a tiny door in the kitchen. It was about knee high. Undauntedly, we flung it open only to reveal a dark stone stairwell

that a person would literally have to crawl down. Its presence alone was terrifying, for some reason, but it had a landing about halfway down, with the stairs turning a different direction and out of our sight. However, perched on the landing, and partly concealed by the walls to the other part of the stairwell, was a large, rectangular, wooden box. A coffin. Now my friend and I weren't exactly small people, so I would imagine the sight of us pale faced with a cartoonish harrow neck shocked expression trying to both squeeze out of a window at the same time would have been quite comical. Not to mention the both of us in a dead sprint heading away from this house through waist high weeds. I still laugh thinking about both of us running like that. Anyhow, we turned to look back about halfway to the end of the farm just in time to see that massive black bird fly back from the tree and onto the house.

We probably made double time from that point on. In hindsight, the whole thing was a bit odd, most especially the behavior of the bird. My friend and I joked about it possessing some sort of supernatural power, but looking back, I think that was just to mask how scared we really were. Halloween is that certain time of year when we give ourselves over to ghosts, horror stories, and all kinds of macabre entertainment. But is it the case that such a spooky atmosphere pushes humans to express the darker side of their nature? Here's how ten places in the United States deal with crime and antisocial behavior on the scariest day of the year. Police in the New York City borough of Queens, acting under the state's Operation Halloween Zero Tolerance program, check in on paroled offenders on Halloween, as well as the days before and after. As part of the surveillance program, those who have done acts convicted against children

could have their homes checked to ensure that they don't have any X-rated material, which would violate the terms of their parole. Offenders are not allowed to wear any kind of masks or costumes. They're also forbidden to participate in any related Halloween activities and are prohibited from opening their doors to trick-or-treaters. There is certainly nothing more frightening than the thought of one of those men opening their door to innocent children. A state patrol source has quoted the saying, there is also a curfew for all offenders from 3 p.m. in the afternoon of Halloween to 6 a.m. the following day. Offenders who don't follow these rules could have their parole revoked and be sent back to prison. The city of Orange in California employs similar

measures to protect children. It passed an ordinance that offenders must post signs on their doors on Halloween to keep trick-or-treaters from knocking there. Police required these offenders to place a sign on the door at least 12 by 24 inches in size reading, no candy or treats at this residence. Repercussions for failing to do so included a possible thousand dollar fine or a year in jail. Police officers in Orlando have reported that around Halloween every year an uptick in crime occurs by criminals wearing Halloween masks. This has included two men with gorilla masks pistol-whipping a man depositing money at a credit union, and two robbers wearing Halloween masks stabbing a man

behind a restaurant. Of course, the decision to put on a Halloween mask or that scream disguise to commit a crime is not unique to orlando alone but wearing a mask could result in other consequences in the state for example in florida anyone committing a crime while wearing a mask can face ramped up charges as well a florida law prohibits anyone over the age of 16 from wearing a mask or hood in a public place or during a meeting except on Halloween. Yes, sad to say this dates all the way back to the Klan and was enacted to prevent members from wearing hoods during their Klan marches. Perhaps even scarier is that this law has been used more than 200 times following its 1951 passage. It may seem curious that police in South Los Angeles say

they see no spike in crime on Halloween, but that may be because they deploy extra units to help with the safety factor, as reports South Carolina Public Radio. However, by safety factor, they mean the tendency of trick-or-treaters to run out between moving or park cars. However, a captain of another division, its 77th Street Division, did admit to concerns about Halloween spikes and crime. In fact, in 2011, that division had 34 incidences of crime on Halloween, 10 of those being burglaries. That captain told the radio station that that number was extraordinarily high. Georgetown in Washington, D.C. reported that incidences of burglary tend to be more common on Halloween or on Halloween weekends in Georgetown compared to other regular

days and weekends of the year. That said, however, it is theft that has been the most prevalent crime to occur on Halloween in Georgetown, more than double the incidence of the next reported crime of robbery. And when it comes to crimes committed on Halloween weekends, the occurrence of theft becomes even greater, nearly four times as frequent as the second most reported crime of theft from autos. It seems that the spooky season makes people much more willing to commit petty crime in the nation's capital. A North Korea news outlet reported that crimes occurring on Halloween have remained steady since 2007 when a spat of larcenies from motor vehicles and stolen bicycles

reported on the UNC Charlotte campus. Campus Police Lieutenant Josh Huffman remarked that the campus also does see a slight increase in vandalism and alcohol-related offenses on Halloween, but for the most part of the day is like any other in terms of crime on campus. However, it is also worth remembering a lesser-known law that exists in North Carolina, General Statute 1421.7, that prohibits anyone over

the age of 16 from wearing a mask in public. Although crime occurring on Halloween dropped 8% from 2010 to 2011, theft, vandalism, and simple assault have remained the most frequently occurring crimes in Tempe, Arizona on Halloween. In fact, in 2011, theft accounted for 20.7% of crime in the city, according to the East Valley Tribune. In 2010, simple assault topped the list, accounting for 19.1% of all crimes. Of course, alcohol-related incidents are also common, particularly in the city's Mill Street area near the Arizona State University campus, and fights that occur at these can lead to charges such as simple assault. Halloween parties can generate a lot of different things, Lieutenant Jeffrey Glover of the Tempe

Police Department said. We have a lot of calls for service, so more officers are responding to calls at that time of hour. Also, you have the drinking that goes on. Sometimes people don't make the best decisions. Even though Halloween fell on a Saturday in 2009, it may be cold weather that prevented its crime numbers from reaching anything out of the ordinary for the holiday in Blacksburg. Since it was cold and rainy on Saturday night, there wasn't a lot of people hanging out outside, said Sergeant Nathan O'Dell of the Blacksburg Police. One of the things you'll see when it's cold is that between the peak hours, which are between 10pm and 2am, people aren't usually outside. That actually helps with the crime itself.

In fact, in the city that year, there were only 12 arrests made on Halloween, but almost 100 calls received by dispatch. Of those, most were related to noise complaints or simply nervous people reporting on otherwise normal behavior. On the Virginia Tech campus, six arrests were made related to alcohol and drug offenses. However, it may be other events on campus that result in higher number of arrests and citations. For example, a football game occurring the same week as Halloween that year led to arrest numbers more than six times that than for the holiday. 39 taken into custody and most for alcohol-related offenses. They take a different, friendlier

approach to discouraging crime in the month of October in the Southern California town of Lompoc. This approach involves Halloween-flocked flamingo lawn ornaments appearing in people's front yards, according to the Lompoc record. Yes, that means birdie lawn ornaments decked out for Halloween. The event supports the Lompoc Valley Police Activities League which provides programming for area youth with the idea of helping them stay out of trouble. People can request an anonymous flocking at a charge of $25 or ask for removal for a small fee. They can also purchase insurance to protect them from a flocking. All raised money goes to Lompoc's Police Activities League organization, which was founded in 1998 and provides athletic, educational,

and recreational activities to build bonds between teen and law enforcement officers. So, maybe it is the case that certain kinds of offenses are more frequent around Halloween, but it is also the case that our own fears and perceptions of danger increase around the spooky season. On Halloween night 2002, 21-year-old Chris Jenkins, a University of Minnesota student, went to celebrate the spookiest night of the year down at the Lone Tree Bar and Grill with his girlfriend, Ashley Rice, and three other friends. Shortly after midnight, Chris was separated from his friends and ejected from the bar. According to reports later given to police, a drink was accidentally spilled on his pants, and the security supervisor assumed that Chris was so intoxicated that he urinated himself. After Chris was removed, the security guard in question was given instructions not to let him

back inside. Unfortunately for Chris, since his Native American Halloween costume had no pockets, he had asked Ashley to keep his wallet, keys, and cell phone in her purse for him and his coat was left inside the bar on what turned out to be a chilly 20 degree night. Since he was not the designated driver, Chris was unable to get a ride home and could not contact his friends inside the bar. He was last seen headed away from the bar on foot but did not return to his residence and was eventually reported missing. On February 27th the following year, Chris Jenkins' bloated, decaying corpse was found floating beneath a bridge on the Mississippi River. He was still dressed in his Halloween costume and had gotten wedged in the branches of a large tree located next to the upper St. Anthony Falls Dam.

The medical examiner found no signs of foul play on Chris' body, so the official cause of death was listed as drowning. Despite the police ruling it a death by misadventure, his family launched their own independent investigation and discovered a number of odd discrepancies. The Jenkins family hired a private detective, Chuck Loesch, to further investigate their son's disappearance. When Loesch questioned staff at the Lone Tree Bar and Grill, they maintained that Chris left the bar on his own and the venue's owner eventually issued a gag order instructing employees not to speak to anyone

without an attorney. Loesch also contacted the Federal Reserve Bank, who happened to be the owners of the two CCTV cameras that had a good view of the Hennepin Avenue Bridge. The bridge was on the route that Jenkins was likeliest to have taken, but when the bank checked the surveillance footage from the earlier morning hours of November 1st, there was no sign of him. Loche's investigation also led him to multiple witnesses who each independently recalled a fight that had occurred in front of a local pizza place. Though it was unclear if the victim was Chris,

a gang of around nine or ten people had violently attacked another outside of the restaurant. Mike Casey, an off-duty police officer, was present in the area on the night of Jenkins' disappearance. He was moonlighting as a security guard for the nearby Hennepin Center for the Arts and was introduced to Jenkins by his girlfriend, Ashley Rice. Ashley happened to work at the Lone Tree Bar and Grill and was familiar with Casey, well enough that she had borrowed pieces of his uniform to complete her cliched sexy cop costume. There are rumors that Casey had in fact masterminded Jenkins' removal from the bar as a way to get to Ashley, given that he actually gave her a ride home later that night when her shift finished. The Minneapolis Police

Department never formally questioned Casey, but stated that he's a married man with children. We don't want to break up a family, an incriminating statement indeed. The Jenkins family went as far as hiring two separate groups of bloodhound trackers to trace Chris's scent from the Lone Tree Bar across the street to an underground parking garage. The scent trail led to parking stalls that one of the bar's bouncers was reportedly parked in on Halloween night. A bloodhound produced a mild hit for Chris's scent on this person's vehicle. Droplets of blood residue, a piece of red string, and red feather fragments which possibly belonged to the headband of Jenkins' costume were also found in the garage. Jenkins' blood alcohol was only 0.12%, so he could not have been particularly drunk,

but coroners noted that traces of GHB were found in Chris' system. However, since GHB is a substance which is produced by the body naturally, this did not necessarily mean Chris was drugged. Forensic pathologist Dr. Michael Baden took issue with Jenkins' body being found with his arms crossed in front of him. Drowning victims who accidentally fall into water are almost always found face down with their arms outwards towards their sides and their clothing disheveled. Yet Jenkins' shirt was tucked into his drawstring pants and his oversized slip-on moccasins were still on his feet.

This led to speculation that Chris was already dead when he was placed in the river. Hydrologists who studied the Mississippi River were highly skeptical that Chris' body could have been in the water for as long as four months without ever being seen, as the river did not freeze over until January 2003. What's more, the area beneath the 3rd Avenue Bridge was searched in the weeks following his disappearance, with no sign of him. A daytime thawing occurred on February 27th, the day Chris was found, so he possibly floated from another location before his body got wedged in the trees. Jenkins' family found it extremely unusual that there was no bruising on his body.

Their son was an enthusiastic lacrosse player, a goalie in fact, who often came home from practice with huge purple and yellow patches on his legs and forearms. Since these bruises were not present, his parents believed he may have been alive for a couple of days after he went missing, allowing enough time for his bruises to heal. Three years later in 2006, the Jenkins family met with Minneapolis Police Chief Tim Dolan, who had decided to reopen the investigation based on the newly attained evidence. Chris's death was eventually reclassified as a homicide and Chief Dolan held a press conference to issue a formal apology to the Jenkins family. Years later, Dolan would state that he estimated Jenkins' death was 50% chance of homicide, 30% chance of accidental death, and 20% chance of

ending his own life. Once the case of Jenkins' death was reopened, an informant told authorities he had witnessed somebody throw Chris' body off the Hennepin Avenue Bridge into the Mississippi River, but there was skepticism about this story since Chris had no broken bones or injuries, and it would not have been possible to toss him over the bridge's high safety railing without his body hitting a steel support beam and vertical metal cables on the way down. In July 2007, the Hennepin County District Attorney's Office announced that they had been approached about filing charges against a suspect for Chris's murder but declined to do so. The suspect in question was one Jeremy Alford, who was serving a life sentence for the brutal

murder of a man by the name of Douglas Miller. Alford admitted to being a regular drinker down at the Lone Tree Bar and Grill around the time of 2002. Chris's case also had been connected to the infamous Smiley Face killer, as his death took place around the same time that many college-aged men in the Midwest were discovered dead in bodies of water after a night of drinking. But unlike many of the other cited cases, no Smiley Face graffiti has ever been discovered in relation to Chris's death. This happened a few months ago in the beginning of summer. I've held off on sharing it for so long because I didn't want to be judged for my actions. I joined a stupid online dating app. I was divorced last winter. Just kind of living it up, you know. I somehow matched with this man who lived in New York, an 8 hour drive from me.

After texting for a few weeks, he sprung it on me that he was going to drive to see me. Since I'm staying with family since my divorce, I decided we'd get a hotel. He told me to find one and he'd pay for it. I already felt super bad he was driving so far so I was trying to find deals in the cheapest place that wasn't incredibly sketchy. I live about 45 minutes outside of the city and the state that I live in and I'm not super familiar with some areas so the hotel I booked ended up being no bueno but I didn't know this until I got there. It was dark by the time I arrived after getting lost four times. There was a very shady motel across the street with two men smoking on the porch. Lots of trucks and truckers traveling

through. I was just walking into the hotel like, oh, I messed up. But I just went with it anyways because I didn't really have a choice and New York, what we'll refer to him as, was about an hour away so he'd be there soon. The hotel was run by Jamaican people, I think a family, but this comes into play later which is why I mention it. The woman who checked me in was nice but the place threw off weird vibes. The lighting, the smell of bleach, the carpet, I don't know. It was really bright but also really dark if that makes sense. I started shaking as I was trying to check in. The reservation was under New York's name and at first she told me she couldn't find the reservation.

His last name was Spanish so I thought maybe I was pronouncing it wrong even though I'm pretty good with Spanish. This made it awkward because now she knew I was meeting a stranger. I thought maybe he gave you the wrong name, she said. I nervously chuckled. She put me on the second floor and I was expecting an elevator but as I turned I saw that behind me was a huge carpeted staircase. This threw me off too, I don't know why. I get to my room and just pace around waiting for this stranger from the internet to show up. It starts raining. I'm sitting by the window sipping a glass of wine and see a pickup truck pull in. I think maybe it's him. A man in a black hoodie gets out and locks his truck about 50 times hearing the beep beep go and runs inside. I start panicking thinking it's him and he has no bags or luggage because he's just going to come kidnap me

or something. Then there's a loud knock at my door and I jump so hard and immediately stand up. I make my way over to the door and look through the peephole. It's New York. No black hoodie. Carrying bags. So I crack the door and smile and he comes in and I share my terrifying thoughts with him and we chuckle. Then we get to business. Later that night we fall asleep and he's spooning me but also has his arms all the way around me with his head on top of my head. Super weird, I don't know.

I was woken up from a dead sleep just so sweaty because he was holding me so tightly and I thought that's what had woken me but then I heard it. Someone was messing with our door. Then I heard the handle start moving as whoever it was tried to open it but it wouldn't open. Suddenly New York jumps out of bed so fast I wondered how long he had been awake listening to this to react so quickly. I pull the covers up to my chin as he's just standing in the dark in his undies looking at the door. He looks to people and says he thinks it's one of the Jamaican men who work here. We had a chain on the door as well, as all the locks, so he kept the chain on as he opened it a few inches. Before he can even ask what the dude wanted, this man just says,

Is the white girl here? I remember getting chills all over my body. New York says no and slams the door, almost completely unbothered by this. The man says something about needing a credit card from me. New York yells back that the room is on his card, under his name and he'll take care of it in the morning. I looked at the clock and it was like 2am. I turn over and just stare at the wall hoping to fall back asleep. Newark wraps his arms around me again and is immediately snoring in my ear.

Good thing he was hot. The next morning we decided to go get breakfast. It's super early and we're both feeling groggy. I'm hoping as we round the corner to the stairs that no one is at the front desk because they definitely heard the noises from our room this morning and I was feeling really embarrassed. Thankfully the front desk was empty. Then I saw him. An older black male standing a few feet from the exit. I honestly don't know if he was Jamaican. I don't know if he was part of the family who owned this place or a guest or just someone else. I don't know. But his face was almost sunken in and he had this weird chilling look in his eyes. He was staring right at me. I knew without seeing him this was the guy from last

night. New York whispers for me to just keep walking so I break eye contact with this guy and lean into New York as we make our way to the exit. As we pass, the male is silent. Then as I'm pushing open the door to exit the building he starts saying, There's the white girl. I found the white girl. She makes a lot of noise. And New York snorted. I was terrified. I left for work after breakfast. I was gone a few hours and returned to the hotel to find the room empty. I texted New York and asked where he was and he texted back saying he was in the laundry room and that he'd be right back up. I sat down in the bed waiting for him. I heard some footsteps outside the door, the floor creaking, like someone was standing at the

door shifting their weight or something. I figured maybe New York forgot his room keys so I got up to look through the peephole, but it was not him. The creepy man was standing outside the door just staring into the peephole. I jumped back and started crying and called New York and yelled for him to come to the room quickly because the man was outside the door. He was gone by the time New York ran up. He went down to the front desk and spoke to the woman about this man but she just kept saying she had no idea who he was talking about and that she will keep an eye out for him. That night I couldn't sleep. I just felt like I could feel him lingering around outside the

door but I was too scared to go look. The orc was sleeping. I rolled over and decided to be the big spoon and wrapped my arms around him. He was still basically a stranger but was the most comforting thing I had. We checked out the next morning. I grabbed his hand as we made our way down the stairs because guess who was standing there? Yep, the woman from the front desk was gone though, replaced by a younger male. The creepy man was smiling as we neared the bottom of the stairs, just this awful bone-chilling grin. Lucky man with the white girl was the last comment we heard from this creep. New York spun around and gave him a few choice words and then walked me to my car.

He waited while I drove off to make sure no one followed me. I don't know, maybe there's more we could have done but again, he never did anything. It was just a very unnerving experience. About a month later I was telling my dad about it and he laughed and told me I had picked the worst part of the city and that he thought that he had heard about this place being shut down multiple times for selling or trafficking. He couldn't remember and then apparently it would just go under new ownership.

This is a story from my childhood, one of the ones that haunt me to this day. Have you ever seen those memes where it says people react like a criminal when an unexpected visitor arrives on their doorstep? They freeze and drop everything they're doing and throw themselves to the floor to avoid being seen in a window. This is my story of how I became one of those people. At the time, I must have been around seven and a half. I was visiting the Midwest, Kansas to be exact, from South Korea where I was born and raised just visiting family, nothing major.

On this particular night, the adults, our aunt and uncle, our parents, were visiting to have a date night. So our parents had ordered us pizza before they left and waited for it to arrive, for we wouldn't have to open the door for anyone. My aunt and uncle had two kids, two boys to be exact, and they were ages 15 and 8. Like I said before, I was maybe 7 and a half at the time. My older sister was 11, and our baby brother was the young tender age of 3. So all in all, we're ready to just have a night of fun games. After all, it wasn't often the cousins got to get together like this. They lived in the states and we lived in

Korea but we loved each other dearly. We saw our parents out at the garage entryway. They made sure we knew the rules and we could recite them back to them. They also made sure we knew where the telephones were and the emergency numbers to accompany them. It's just going to be a typical night of no parents or so we thought. It had maybe been an hour, maybe two after our parents had left. We were downstairs in the basement in the playroom or the game room, whatever people like to call it these days. We were down there just watching movies, playing air hockey, things of that nature, just being kids. We weren't being loud or anything like that and even if we were,

it wouldn't be too big of a deal because the way the houses were in Kansas, the basements are built into the ground in case of a tornado. I had gone upstairs with my oldest cousin because I wanted a drink of chocolate milk and I couldn't reach the cups alone so we wandered upstairs into the kitchen, which was on the far end of the house. The others stayed downstairs continuing their games. We had maybe been upstairs for 15 to 20 minutes because while I was drinking my milk, my older cousin was making snacks since we were planning to watch a movie. Then all of a sudden, we hear the doorbell ring. I remember my cousin looked at me and told me to stay here because it was odd that the doorbell was ringing. It wasn't late, but it certainly wasn't early.

And I say this because it was summer, around 8 o'clock. My cousin started to creep towards the door quietly. It was unnerving for someone to be ringing the doorbell. We weren't expecting any guests, and the pizza had been delivered before our parents had even left for the evening. And before he's even halfway to the door, whoever's on the other side starts rapidly ringing the doorbell over and over, the constant ringing echoing throughout the house. And by this point, I had looked over toward the staircase and I saw our other siblings starting to creep up the stairs with the exclusion of the baby,

who was still asleep in the crib down in the guest room. The oldest of the kids, James, put his finger to his lips and told us to be quiet to make it seem like no one was home despite there being lights on. He crept closer to the door as the banging and ringing on the doorbell continues and he peeked through the peephole. I had never seen my cousin look so freaked out, his face drained of color and he backed away from the door rapidly and he told us all to go down the stairs but of course we didn't listen. Honestly we thought he was just playing a joke, maybe it was some of his friends wanting to scare us since he did cancel his plans that night to stay home and watch all of us kids. My older sister shoved past him and looked

through the peephole herself and for whatever reason, whatever was on the other side of the door made her have the same exact reaction and she stumbled back from the door just as pale. At the time I didn't understand what was going on. I don't think any of us younger kids really did, but something wasn't right. After a while, about 20 minutes, whoever was at the door stopped ringing the doorbell and all was quiet. It seemed like they gave up. Maybe they thought no one was home. If only we knew how wrong we really were. We all sat in silence for a while after this initially occurred. My other cousin, who I'm just going to call Kyle

for the purpose of the story, mustered up the courage to ask his brother James who was at the door and why James and my sister were acting so skittish. James told us that there was a man wearing dark clothes and seemed to be carrying some type of package or large box but he couldn't see his face. Of course, Kyle being the little smarty pants he was at the time, started to mock James, saying he was just being a scaredy cat and didn't recognize their neighbors. Kyle was convinced it was just a neighbor trying to drop off a package that might have got mixed up in the mail, seeing it happened all the time. So, we all agree, and that was the probable cause, until we realized whoever was ringing the doorbell

didn't just leave the package on the porch which isn't that what most neighbors do in the case no one answers they'll just leave it and why would they try to bring it over to the house at night instead of just waiting until the next day but we thought it was over and done with so we pushed it to the back of our minds we But we thought it was over and done with so we pushed it to the back of our minds. We didn't think it was important to call our parents and let them know what happened. It was over after all. We went back to the kitchen, grabbed the snacks and started to head back downstairs until we heard banging again. But it wasn't from the front porch this time. We were in shock. We were frozen in fear. I mean it was coming from right

behind us. We turned slowly and looked back in the direction from which we came from. We were currently standing in the dining room we had already passed through the kitchen. It was like someone was banging on the kitchen window. You know the one that's typically above the sink. So your mother or father can watch the kids while they play in the backyard while they wash the dishes. So James and my older sister, who we're just going to call Nicole at this point, got down on their hands and knees and they crawled back into the kitchen, much against our charging. Just as quickly as they crawled into the kitchen to take a peek, they crawled back to us, almost in hyper speed, and they told us to get low and stay low as we crawled into the den further down the hallway. James had all of us

huddled close to the fireplace, out of sight from the windows. He told us to stay there. He was taking charge. He was protecting his home and his family the best he knew how. James quickly crawled away. I didn't know where he was going but I was scared. The banging was getting louder and it was getting closer and closer. At some point I started to cry and I remember Kyle put his hand over my mouth and my sister was hugging us tight. And around that time we saw James starting to appear back around the corner and he had his baseball bat. He had crawled up another staircase to get to his room. He crawled past us and put a finger to his lips again and

that's when we realized he was crawling towards the doggy door. He was attempting to close off the one entrance to the house that wasn't locked. Thankfully he managed to get it latched in time because we don't think the man outside had realized that the house had a doggy door. But when he heard the lock click into place, the banging became more erratic, more violent. Then, all of a sudden, much like before the banging stopped, but we heard pacing, someone was walking back and forth across the porch, slowly, deliberately. Thump, thump, thump, thump, as heavy boots thundered across the red oak porch, and then without warning the pacing stopped and it became quiet,

eerily quiet. Then the man called out, Won't you open the door? I have a package for you. We didn't respond. We stayed quiet, or as quiet as we could with the way our hearts were pounding and with how ragged our breathing was. The stranger called out again. Open the door. And again we didn't answer. The man called out angrily. I said open the door, I have a package. Like before, we didn't answer, nor did we make any sudden movements. The man started banging again,

this time directly on the panel window of the room we were sitting in yelling. I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. Open the door or I'll open it for you. Bang, bang, bang. The window rattled and shook violently with each impact from the strange man. Thankfully, our cousin's house had reinforced windows so they weren't easy to break, but unluckily we didn't have any neighbors close by, so we didn't think anyone could hear the commotion. But while he was making all this noise we took the opportunity to book it into another room to get a phone. At one point while we were on the phone with the police officers they asked if we could describe the man and all we knew was that he was tall and wearing black.

So Kyle and I decided to be brave so if something did happen to us that night they would at least have a better description of who did it. We crawled back into the den and we dared to look out of a small corner of the window. We gently moved the curtains out of the way and lo and behold the man was still banging. He had moved the shutters off outside the window. They're basically hanging off their hinges at this point, rattling with the wind. We made eye contact with the deranged man. Direct soul-searching eye contact. I don't think before this night I had ever believed that there is pure evil in this world,

but when I looked into that man's eyes, I didn't see a soul. I know it sounds crazy, but those were not the eyes of a human. He was something unlike anything I've ever seen before. Animalistic. Maybe the only word I could describe it as is demonic. It was evil, unnatural, and something I'd never want to see again. When he saw us, he smiled a twisted grin that I'm sure he thought was reassuring and he crouched down, for he could get a better look at us, I assume, and then he said, Don't you want your mail? You have mail. I can give it to you if only you would open the door. I remember just grabbing onto Kyle's hand for dear life. Kyle shook his head no and he threw the curtain back over the window and before we even had a chance to move any further, the man started violently banging on the window again.

At this point, James had had enough, he passed the phone to my sister and he yelled, leave us alone. The police are on their way, you're not getting in here. After that it seemed like the man panicked, the banging abruptly stopped and then we heard rapid footsteps on the porch. And Kyle and I peeked out the window again and the man was running through the yard past all the trees and he jumped the fence, the wooden 22 foot fence at the end of the yard into the alley that separated the neighborhood from the old cemetery. We stayed at the end of the yard into the alley that separated the neighborhood from the old cemetery. We stayed on the phone with the police until they arrived and our parents

arrived not long after, but the man was never caught and we don't know what happened after that night, he just disappeared into thin air. To this day, I'm now 21. When the doorbell rings when I'm not expecting a visitor, my heart stops and I break out into a cold sweat. At this point in time, I just picked my mental health back up after an extremely traumatic, unconsensual episode, you can guess what, and was still struggling with the chronic inability to say no to people. I'm a 21-year-old trans man, and while I never have trouble passing, I'm still seen as very pretty and young-looking. So So I was at a young people's event at my place of worship, which is completely accepting of all strokes of people, by the way.

It was a lovely evening. I met a lot of great people, got a bit tipsy, and had a great time. This is until around 12.45 to 1 a.m. when things started to wind up. I went upstairs and met a man, looked approximately in his late 30s, called Tobias. Tobias was quite forward, complimenting my appearance, being familiar, asking about all sorts of personal things, so I guessed that he was interested, but I didn't feel the same way. My place of worship has always been a safe place for me so I assumed if I didn't flirt back he'd get the message. Mia culpa. Shortly after I went downstairs to put something in the bin

and he followed me. When we were alone he kissed me. I pulled away and told him, I'm sorry I'm not available. He said, don't worry neither am I and gestured to his wedding ring i laughed it off turned and walked back upstairs and as we walked tobias told me i can't believe i just did that nothing happened that just didn't happen i nodded and thought that was that the evening was getting late i decided to get home i offered to walk a friend of mine to the station and when she left to go to the bathroom, he asked where I was going. I said firmly, I'm going to walk my friend to the station and then I'm going home. She returned and as we left, he decided to come along with us. I asked where he was headed. He said, I'll go to the station for you. I reiterated that I was going straight home from that point.

Along the way, my friend wanted to get another drink and hang out and I agreed. We were chatting, all seemed friendly but I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable at Tobias' behavior. He was constantly complimenting me, telling me I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable at Tobias' behavior. He was constantly complimenting me, telling me I was amazing, special, not like anyone he'd met and kept touching me, putting his hands on my neck, down the back of my shirt and kept trying to kiss me. FYI, this tactic is called love bombing and has a big old red flag. He commented on some higgies I had. Who was that? Who scarred you? Whoever it was, you think they're better than me?

Really, better than me? You let a boy do that to you? I told him it was someone that I had known for a long time and reminded him that I wasn't single. He had kissed me around four times up to this point and when he did I would pull away, try and put distance between us, move my head so he wouldn't, laugh awkwardly, say, we're in a shop please don't, I'm not what you're looking for, you don't know me, etc. This man straight up tried to make out with me one meter away from some poor shopkeeper serving us. Oh my god. He squeezed my waist and commented on how skinny

and small I was. Asked me how old I was and commented, wow you look so young. You look like you're 17. He asked me if I was attracted to him and I shrugged, shook my head and said, sorry I'm very into the person I'm with and I can't even look at anyone else when I like someone. At this point, I should have told him to buzz off. In fact, should have said that a long time before, but when it's actually happening, it's surprisingly difficult to get a bearing on when you can start being rude. Which is exactly what people who behave like this rely on. A vulnerable person's fears of making a scene, or else they actually believe that this behavior means the person wants to be persuaded. Yuck. We all decided to sit on the bench as all the pubs were shutting down. I sat on the end and

my friend next to me. Tobias whined that I wasn't sitting next to him. My friend asked why that mattered and he said, oh you know because I want him to... never mind, I'm being too much, I'm going too far. I tried to steer the conversation away from him flirting but he kept standing and walking to where I was sitting to kiss me, crouching by me and putting his hands on my knees. He didn't want to tell us how old he was because he was afraid I wouldn't like him but did eventually confess he was 37. In an attempt to stop him from being interested in me I revealed that I was trans and he put his hand up my shirt saying well you really think I would judge you for that? You have no idea who I am. I see you. Side note, what was that? An avatar reference?

I would never care. I'd still do everything with you. I wiggled away as far as I was able and said something along the lines of, well, thank you, but I'm not interested. My friend had somehow misread the situation as me enjoying this behavior, probably because I'm a bloke. I texted another friend to call me so that I could get five minutes away from the situation, walked up the street, explained everything and made a plan, which was a really good idea. Talking out loud about it, I finally registered that this wasn't right and that I was totally in the right to be uncomfortable and wanting to get out. I returned and told everyone that I was going home. The second I came back he tried to kiss me and told me he was worried and had tried to come looking

for me. I moved my head so he couldn't and told him please don't I'm going home. I texted the friend that I was with help and she immediately started saying that we were going home, he should go home too and that her and I were leaving together now. He asked me, What's changed? You've come back different, who were you talking to, what's going on? I told him, I'm uncomfortable and I'm going home now.

He said, What are you talking about? Have I made you uncomfortable? Yes, I'm going home now. At this point, I can definitely see that my lack of rudeness and conflict avoidance tactics had actually made the situation worse and given him the impression that I could be persuaded to do whatever he wanted or somehow had led him on. So now that I've been absolutely crystal clear he should back off right? Wrong. He said wow who were you talking to what's happened whoever it is don't throw this away I know we had a connection you're so special. I said I only met you this evening you made me feel uncomfortable and you should ask people

before you kiss them. Wow, I can't believe this. You're trying to turn this around on me? I know you're drunk. It's fine. I just want to go home now. I'm completely sober. I haven't, I'm not drunk at all. At this point, my friend stepped in and tried to assure him everything was fine and convince him to go home. He asked me for one last kiss and I shook my head. No thank you. He said don't throw this away and he tried to touch my face. I reiterated I met you this evening I don't know you I want to go home. He said, can I at least have a hug? And immediately tried to hug me. I pushed him away and said, I would rather not. He responds, wow, you're making

me feel uncomfortable now. I said, I said I would rather not. Just please respect my boundaries. I want to go home. My friend again tried to get him to go home and he responds no you're making me feel like I've done something wrong I just want to hug. Oh I know what this is you're just not used to people accepting you for who you are you can't handle that I accept you and see you for who you really are. I said that's not the case. I've had plenty of people who accept me but you've made me feel uncomfortable and I'm going home. At this point I stood up backed against the edge of the bench with him standing barely a foot away. I had started shaking because I was feeling anxious so I just walked way up the street. My friend stayed with him

convincing him to go home. He didn't follow us. I took her to the station and got myself an Uber. Next day he handed a report very similar to this into the security at my place of worship and the dude was promptly barred from entry. I hope people can see the mechanisms of how this situation was set up and can find confidence to be far more outspoken than I was because being polite I made the situation worse. I know it's not my fault but I'm very grateful that I'm not timid like I used to be and I'm able to be absolutely firm and if needs be rude about setting my boundaries. Therapy is one heck of a drug and it's doing me wonders. This happened a long time ago when I was around 15 or so and 25 now. Back then I was really into

singing and dancing with my friends and I was introduced to K-pop as a result. This was way before K-pop became noticeably mainstream so whenever events relating to it came up we got very excited. There was a global audition for one of the big companies in my town and my three friends and I decided to go. I was the only non-Asian girl in our friend group. I'm only mentioning it because this pertains to the story later. The K-pop fandom back then was pretty much the same as now. People of various ethnicities were into the idol music genre. We all knew the likelihood of getting into the industry was super low and for me even more so as I wasn't of Asian descent, but I knew that going in.

That wasn't the point of us going though, we just loved being in proximity of something important to the genre we enjoyed, just kids having fun. By the way, I looked pretty young for my age then, and wearing pigtails this day didn't help with that either. So we get dropped off and meet up at the audition place, a community center of some sort. We kind of dilly-dally around a bit until we have a lineup for our respective auditions, i.e. singing, dancing. I was going to go sing so I was mentally preparing myself in the crowded space outside of the audition rooms. That's when out of the corner of my eye I see a tall, older, 40s maybe, white man begin to approach me. I remember thinking, huh, is he going to audition too? It was strange because everyone else in there was younger, maybe he was a parent. He walks up pretty close and goes, can you help me please? I'm confused and I ask him

what he needs help with. The staff here, my son, my son's trying to audition but they won't let him audition. Okay, this is weird. I then asked him why and he responds, because he's not Korean. That was when I started to get creeped out. I looked around to see a pretty diverse crowd and then back at him. Um, I, I don't know. That's terrible. You should talk to, and then I point towards the staff, and they should be able to help. I knew he was messing around, but I was too scared to say anything else. I went on. Anyone can audition here. He didn't listen and insisted on me helping him. Then he said something that sent a chill down my spine. When I was trying for the fifth time to convince him to approach the

staff instead of me, he beckoned me to come outside with him. My son's just outside my car. Can you come talk to him, please? That was when I repeated what I said earlier and began to firmly walk in the opposite direction. He kept trying to coax me out to see his son. I managed to lose him in the crowd of people. Only seconds later, I see him talking to my friend about me and helping his son and all that. I was shocked. The man had clearly been watching me for a while to know who I came with. We were split up at that point. I went up and told him we should get going without looking at the man.

He ignored me and kept on talking to her. Without speaking, I went up to her, grabbed her hand, and pulled at her once to get her away from him. She was super gullible and didn't understand why I was so worried. The man clearly was unnerved by what I did and left my friend and then disappeared into the crowd. So about twenty minutes later I'm in the lineup for the audition when I get a cold feeling in my body and I turn to look towards the entrance. My audition room was close to it and there he was, standing, but he wasn't just standing, he had his arms crossed and he was glaring at me. I've never seen someone look at me with such vitriol. He looked like he wanted to harm me. It was terrifying. The crowd of people was sparse because we had all lined up outside our

assigned rooms. The man waited there staring at me non-stop for an hour. An hour. He glared at me all the way until I got into the audition room. I was so scared that he'd be there once I got out but I guess the auditions went on longer than he expected and he went home with his son in tow I'm guessing. It all started about a month ago as I was sitting out on my front porch having a cigarette and a random man pops up from around my bushes and walks right up to me. He's pretty tan, slim, but fit build to him, probably about 5'7". Walks up and casually says, hey, I couldn't bother you for one of those, right? It was random at the time, but I didn't mind. I pulled another smoke out, handed it to him, and offered my lighter if he needed it. Don't worry Sarge, I don't need it. As soon as he said that, he turned

around, placed the cigarette into the branches on the bush and walked across the street to the house that faces us. I sat there quietly as he did all of this. Why would he ask me for a smoke and then put it in my bush and walk away? Weird. But I don't live in the best areas so I took the smoke and went back inside. Little did I know that that wasn't going to be the last time he does something strange. Two weeks pass without any problems. My sister brings my niece and nephew over for my mother and I to watch them one Friday afternoon. We got them to settle down to a movie when the dogs start towards the door. Their hair is standing on the backs of their necks but they weren't barking. I shoo them away from the front door since they're known for getting excited about anything they hear out front. No sooner did I turn

my back to the door two knocks knocks thumped the front door behind me. I slowly open the door and see the cigarette guy standing on my porch, a wide grin plastered across his face. I open the screen door and step out in front of him. Now let me clarify, I'm a giant, I'm 6 foot 5, 300 pounds and have some martial arts background behind me. But when I stood there in front of him, my fight or flight response went haywire. I felt the blood rush out of my head and hands into my feet which is something I rarely felt before. He sat there, smiling, doing nothing else. I ask him if I can help him.

He reaches into his pockets and pulls out a pack of camels and opens them towards me. There's three cigarettes poking out. Hey Sarge, want a cig? Why does he keep calling me Sarge? I tell him I'm good, I have my own smokes and it looks like he's almost out anyways. His smile vanishes instantly. His eyes seem to completely glaze over i want out it caught me by surprise everything i want out tango out he starts rocking back and forth repeating i want

out and tango out i can't begin to tell you the thoughts that were going through my head at this point. I'm speechless. Hey Sarge, can you get me out of everything? The military? The FBI? Make it all go away. Please sir. At that moment I remember that my mother, niece and nephew are right on the other side of the door and this guy seems like he's about to lose it. Without a second thought, I place my hand on his shoulder. This stopped him from rocking. I ask him if everything is okay. He stares back at me for a while before another smile breaks over his face. Hey. Yeah. Yeah. He turns his attention towards my front window. The blinds are shut, but he's focused heavily on them. As I noticed this and was about to say something, gotta get back to field. Tango out. He pulled away and sprinted his way across the street to the house. I stood there, dumbfounded.

I couldn't believe what was just happening in those short couple of minutes. I hop inside and lock the door. My mom is staring at me confused so I tell her about everything that just happened. The weird thing is, we know the woman who lives across the street. She lives alone. Where did this guy come from? My mother and I decide to call him Tango out after this incident. Here's the part that really sent me over the edge with this guy. We got a hold of the woman across the street and

got some information about him. He's the son of her friend. They haven't been able to find a place to live. He's apparently an extreme paranoid schizophrenic. He's never been in the military nor the FBI. His mother has no idea how his mental state deteriorated to such a severe degree. She assured us that he's harmless and that he is only a danger to himself. Well, last week my mother and her boyfriend decided to go hang out with some family, so I was home alone with my two dogs. I don't usually watch Netflix but I heard Invader Zim had a new movie so I sat on the living room sofa and was there for about an hour and a half. The entire time I was watching which was about 11.30pm to 12.45am I kept seeing something outside

my front window out of the corner of my eye. My dogs made no movement and it was quite windy so I brushed it off as moving trees or something. I finished the movie and flipped the TV off. I stand to stretch and once again I catch something out of the corner of my eye. This time though my dogs went straight to the door and stood it alert. I was about to go out for a smoke anyways so I make my way to the window to show my dogs that mom and dad weren't home yet. That's when I saw him. Standing on my porch staring at my front door. Once again my fight or flight response exploded.

Way more than the first time. I snuck my way to the front door and quietly turned the deadbolt and handle locks. I didn't want him to hear me. I can see out of my blinds, but only a little bit. He's still standing there, not moving an inch, wearing a white tank top and probably his boxers. I was dead focused on him. I was trying to figure out if I was going to have to confront this man.

He's never been mean or angry towards us. I have no bad things to say about him him since I understand he's not all there. But this was too bizarre. He had to have been standing there the entire time I was watching that movie, maybe even longer. I walk to my room and place a couple shells next to my shotgun just in case. I call my mother's phone as I stare back out to see what he's doing but he's not there. I scan over the yard but I don't see him anywhere. When she answers I tell her what Tango out is

doing and she hands the phone to her boyfriend. He makes sure I've got my gun ready in case he tries to go hostile. They'll be home in a half an hour. I say that's okay and hang up the phone. I press 911 on my ringer to be ready at a moment's notice and that's when I look back out the peek spot of my window and he's standing there, staring at me. I doubt he was able to actually see me but it made me jump back and duck below the window. I scramble to grab my phone that fell when I jumped. That's when two little knocks happen on the front door. I freeze entirely.

Two more little knocks follow. I separate my blinds just enough for me to see his face. He has a simple, calm expression on his face, but I can see tears pouring down his face with swollen eyes. I was just about to hit dial to call 911 when from around the corner two officer units with flashing lights pulled up in front of my house. I'm still shocked, someone must have seen him and called the cops before I did. I see Tango out, turn around and stare at the lights then he casually walked over to them. I opened my blinds to see two officers grab him and immediately start to search and question him. After a moment, making sure the cops had him under control, I came out and stood on my patio and stared at them. I lit a cigarette since my nerves were all

over the place and waited for one of the cops to walk over and talk to me. They have had to wrangle him up from multiple places around the neighborhood and have even seen him break into people's garages and sleep there for the night just to be discovered the next morning. They ask if I'm fine, I say yes. They make a couple of comments about he was about to break into a lair of a giant. They ask if I want to press charges but I say no since I know he's a paranoid schizophrenic and he's not able to control himself all the time. They took him back across the street to his mother. His parents came back shortly after and the night kind of ended there. I woke up the

next day to find multiple cans of food spread out all over my front yard. Maybe it was Tango out's way of saying sorry. I rounded them up and placed them on her property and went to work. Since then we hadn't had an issue with Tango Out. I see him once in a while walking down the street. I guess the cops are going to help his mother get them into suitable living and him into a hospital for the help he needs. But he hasn't come back onto our property since that night. I'm still a little nervous going out, for a smoke though. My first month I sputtered through a series of odd jobs, casually drifting from one gig to another as I tried to figure out what I

really wanted out of my life. Eventually an acquaintance suggested that I try bartending. At the time I had no experience at all but I thought whatever why not put yourself out there couldn't hurt to try. I applied to all the LGBT bars in town. I'm gay by the way. I figured that a job at one of these places would be a good way to integrate myself into the community, maybe even meet some guys without having to resort to Grindr and the like. I quickly hit it off with the owner of a neighborhood pub and he hired me on the spot, promising to mentor me in all things booze related. The following months were some of the best of my life. Met a lot of good people and gained a lot of perspective.

I'm now starting grad school but I still work at that same bar a couple of nights a week. That's where the following incident occurred. A few months ago I should mention that this bar is on the corner of a main road and a quiet side street. It's important. Anyway, around 5.45pm I park my car halfway down the side street, which at the time was lined with cars, and I walk back to the pub. After taking some deep breaths and doing some quick mental prep, despite the nature of my job, I'm a dyed-in-the-wool introvert, I walk through the front door, toss my car keys into my knapsack,

and toss my knapsack over the main bar. It's my routine, what I always do. Only bartenders are ever allowed behind the bar, and I've never really felt the need to lock my personal belongings in the back office. It's just not that kind of place. Almost all of the patrons are quality people. Hard workers, community members, younger, older, everything in between. People who generally deserve a break every now and then, if only in the form of a cocktail or three. That being said, it's not cheers. Admittedly, this job has really made me wise to what so many women must have to endure on a regular basis. Not everyone is respectful of personal boundaries, especially when you're new,

fresh meat. I've been leered at. I've had guys reach out and run their hands through my hair, stroke my chest, squeeze things, and forcibly pull me closer and whisper me all the things they'd like to do, only to get righteous and angry when I don't enthusiastically reciprocate. My first week my boss told me half jokingly that this is a gay bar but there's no such thing as harassment. I guess because they're dudes and I'm dudes and we're all dudes and I'm supposed to man up and deal with it which for the most part I do and did. The money is consistently good but I still can't say that I'm entirely comfortable with it. Double standards suck. Monday evenings can be hit or miss. That one Monday was a miss.

By the time 10pm rolled around, only a couple of folks remained. That's when Vern walked in. I guess that Vern was in his mid to late 30s. solid build, clean shaven, average looking, sort of impeccably anonymous. I've never seen him before. He sat down at the end of the counter on the very last stool, next to where I enter and exit from behind the bar and where I usually leave my belongings. He ordered a soda and introduced himself and we made small talk for a few minutes. He seemed to be a pretty affable guy and nothing about him seemed explicitly out of the ordinary, but admittedly something about him didn't quite sit right with me. He almost seemed a little too ordinary, I conspicuously so. He was dressed up

as dressed down, if that makes sense. It's hard to describe. Think along the lines of someone who might spend an hour trying to style perfect bedhead. Anyway, at some point the topic got around to video games, which I love, and for a good ten minutes we discussed some upcoming releases we were both apparently excited for. Eventually I had to excuse myself to help another customer as well as finish a couple of other tasks that still needed doing, but Vern said it was no big deal and of course I needed to do my job. Cool, no problem. As I walked around the pub cleaning this and that I couldn't help but notice that whenever I happened to look in Vern's direction he was already looking at me. This is something I've gotten used to as a bartender but again something in particular just didn't sit right. Sometimes he would look away but most of the time he wouldn't giving me a tiny impenetrable smile.

This went on for a while nearly two hours. I'd walk up to him and occasionally ask him if he needed anything and we'd have a brief exchange. I'd go back to my other duties he'd just keep on staring and so on and so on. In all that time, he only ordered one more soda and he didn't talk to anyone else. He had his smartphone on the counter in front of him, but I never once saw him looking at it. As I said before, I've experienced worse, so I figured that he was probably socially awkward or maybe just lonely. Whatever he was though, he wasn't particularly subtle. By midnight Vern was the only person still sitting at the bar. There were two guys playing pool in the back room out of sight and a few guys smoking on the patio but Vern and I were the only ones in the main room. In that sort of situation it'd feel rude to not just chat up the only person left in

the vicinity. It's part of my job to make people feel welcome after all. But despite it being a super slow night I felt drained and I just couldn't find the energy to strike up a genuine conversation with someone who was making me feel like I was on full display. I figured it would be a good time to go to the storeroom and grab a few cases of beer that I had to restock soon anyways. I excused myself and told Vern that I was going to the office and would be right back but if he needed anything he could holler. When I made it inside the office I immediately felt a sense of relief, like I'd finally made it backstage after a gruelingly long performance. It took me about 30 seconds to grab the stuff I needed but I decided to sit down and mess around on my phone for a few minutes, enjoying my solitude. I stayed there until it felt like I'd

been away from my post for a bit too long at which point I grabbed the beer cases and headed back to the bar. To my surprise, Vern was gone by the time I got back and there was just a $20 bill under his glass. I felt suddenly guilty, not because I just made money off of him, though of course that was appreciated, but because maybe he really was just some closeted dude who didn't know how to interact with other guys and maybe the money was his only reliable way of expressing gratitude for the company. Maybe I had misread the cues and was projecting my own insecurities onto his admittedly awkward behavior. Maybe. Maybe. In any case, he was gone now and I still had more to do so I placed the cash in my tip jar and mentally thanked him for it.

I began going about my tasks for the rest of the shift and quickly put Vern out of my head. A couple of hours later, around 1am, I escorted the final stragglers outside and closed the front door. I work alone on Monday nights so it usually takes me a little less than an hour to finish my tasks after closing. As per usual, I put on some chill music and went on autopilot. I finished everything around 2am. After turning off the last few lights I grabbed my knapsack, set the alarm, headed out the front door which locks on its own. I started to amble down the street towards my car, the only one left on the block. All I could think about was how badly I needed to pack a bowl and jump in the shower. When I reached the back door of my car, I absentmindedly yanked it open and threw my knapsack into the back seat.

Slammed the door closed, I stepped out to the driver's side door and pulled the handle and climbed inside. Only my butt made contact with the seat and I reached my hand toward the open door did I realize I hadn't taken my keys out of my bag. I never actually unlocked my car. A wave rolled over me like I had jumped into the ocean and I saw something in the periphery of my vision. I kid you not. There he was, just sitting there in my passenger seat. I'm not at all ashamed to admit I screamed. The driver's side door was still open but I didn't and couldn't move I just stared at him dumbfounded I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you

Vern said I didn't immediately respond so he quickly followed up with I thought we could hang out maybe play some games together Then like it was nothing, he handed me my car keys, which he had obviously stolen out of my bag during those minutes I was in the office, and apologized again, presumably for having my keys in the first place. Then he offhandedly gave me an address and said that he didn't live far away, if I was interested.

I'd like to say that I was this close to grabbing him by the collar and beating the life out of him, but something in my gut urged me strongly to play along, to pretend like this situation wasn't completely insane. The street was deserted, I had no idea if he was armed, how unhinged he was, etc. Too many variables. No worries, man. I said casually, like he was just an old childhood friend who'd just flown into town to surprise me on my birthday. Just wasn't expecting to see you. I had no idea what I should say. It might have been a stupid decision on my part and there was probably one thousand and one things I should have done instead but I tried to genuinely meet him halfway and just be as gracious as possible, as calmly as possible. That sounds cool but it was a crazy long night for me and I'm really tired. Can we rain check? A few silent moments passed, but I suppose I sounded genuine enough

because he crossed his arms and simply said, okay. I asked him if he had his car parked nearby and he said no. I didn't press the issue further and, again dumb, I told him outright that I'd be happy to drop him off at his place, at which point we could trade numbers and make plans in the morning after I'd gotten some sleep. Somehow, appeasement seemed safer than flat out confrontation or running away, or suggesting Uber or whatever. I didn't want to offend him or make him feel like he was in the wrong. I had no idea what he was capable of, whether he was actually malevolent or just an alien from another social dimension. He quietly agreed to ride. It was the longest 10 minutes of my life. On the way I asked him about how his day went and what games he liked and other random nonsense.

I mentioned multiple times that I was really glad to meet another gamer and that it'd be fun to share the hobby with someone else. Basically I said whatever it took to keep the conversation light and flowing but he didn't say much at all aside from occasionally directing me left and right and whatever he said had a sort of petulant tone to it. I felt like I was driving home a psychotic toddler whom I'd just refused McDonald's. He looked out the passenger window the entire ride. Occasionally I would glance over at him, but mostly I tried to keep my eyes forward because I found that focusing on the road made me feel more centered. Of course a part of me wishes now that I had acted more assertively, whipping around in a sharp turn and sending him flying effortlessly out the window. You know, something hardcore, but being friendly and accommodating

was really the only thing that seemed appropriate at the time. My grandfather says kill him with kindness and I disagree that that's always the correct solution but it's what I did that night and it worked. I considered driving directly to a police station but I wasn't terribly familiar with the neighborhood and I didn't want to rile him up by taking out my phone. Before long we arrived. The destination was a small park in a suburb that I'd only driven through a couple of times previously. He said he'd walk the rest of the way and at his request I brought the car to a stop on the corner. There was a short, somewhat terrifying lull before either of us said anything or made any sort of move. I offered to put my number in his phone but he refused and

simply said thanks and got out of the car. As soon as he closed the door I hightailed it down the street. I drove aimlessly for about a mile before I pulled over and just idled on the side of a main road. I sat in silence for a few minutes and then called my boss, who at this point is a good friend. Honestly, I didn't care that it was after 2am at that point. He picked up after a couple of rings and I quickly regurgitated everything that had happened. He was a good sport about it and didn't just play it off for laughs, instead expressing legitimate concern. We had a mandatory staff meeting that week in which everyone was told they needed to be on guard

and how the bar would be installing several cameras for extra security. Thankfully I haven't seen Vern again since that night, nor have any of the other bartenders. So this story isn't very long at all but it's the scariest thing that's ever happened to me. It was my senior year of high school and pretty late in the school year, I think it was March, maybe February. Anyways, I had just got to school. It was before classes had even started, so I was just sitting in the commons with my friends. I remember hearing an announcement over the intercom, but I'm hard of hearing so I didn't understand it at all. I figured it was important so I go back to talking. My friends didn't understand it either so we just kept all talking. Everyone started shuffling around and I got kind of

confused. Did the bell ring? No, it's only 7.35. We had five more minutes. Then the ladies from the office came and told us to hurry into a classroom. I asked why and she said just go as she pushed me into the choir room. My friend was already in there and I asked her what was going on. We're on lockdown. Didn't you hear you hear the announcement locks lights out of sight my heart dropped lockdown I was so scared I thought I was gonna die or worse one of my friends then I saw another friend crying I went over to comfort her and she said she couldn't find her boyfriend before she got pushed in here and he isn't texting back and she was so worried. I sat down and started to cry myself.

I texted my mom to let her know what was going on and then I turned my phone on do not disturb and sat in the dark, quiet room. A few minutes go by and I hear footsteps outside. My heart is beating out of my chest and tears are rolling down my face. By now it's probably 9am. The door opens and I brace myself. It was thankfully the principal, there to tell us that everything is okay and we can go to class. No one got hurt and all was okay but it truly was the scariest experience of my life. This story took place in March of 2005 in Florida. I'm Jamie and I'm now a 36 year old widow. But at the time this story took place I was a 21 year old single mother.

I had recently moved to Bradenton, Florida where my mama lived from Columbus, Ohio. Within a week of moving to Florida, I had gotten a job at Easter Seals Daycare working with special needs children in early childhood education. In the state of Florida, it's mandatory to work in early childhood education, aka daycare teacher. You have to first take a 40-hour class. I believe it's only about 30 hours now. At this time I had babysat since I was 11. Taken Red Cross classes as a young girl in babysitting. And had worked part time in Bally's Total Fitness Daycare. This was my first time working in a professional environment.

Needless to say I loved children and my whole life all I ever wanted was a child. Me and my future husband had a very hard time conceiving and Promise Rose was my miracle baby. I was the happiest woman alive the day she was born. She is the only child I currently have alive. I hope to have at least one more. I currently don't work in a daycare anymore. The experience I'm about to share pushed me to make more of myself and am now an RN. The 40-hour classes are broken up by category and each one is a certain amount of hours. Literally one week to the day I had just completed the hours category identifying and reporting child abuse and neglect. Had I not taken this class I believe the outcome of this horrible experience would have never been

the same I had just learned if a child is missing or had been abducted you immediately lock down the facility and contact the authorities not immediately look for the child which is what your instincts tell you to do my baby girl was in between three and four months. She had tried and successfully mastered cereal so next is actual baby food. An infant's taste buds aren't developed so you want to always start with veggies because if you start with fruits most likely they won't want to eat anything else that's not sweet. Just trust me that's not a road you want to go down. It was a Saturday morning. It was going to be my Biebs' first time eating veggies. I was so very excited. I ventured to my local Walmart. I'm so happy I chose this Walmart because they have on-duty cops guarding this particular Walmart.

Promise was sleeping so I left her in her infant car seat and put the whole car seat into the seat of the shopping cart with her diaper bag and carried my purse. I got the other items I needed first and then ventured to the baby aisle. I was looking at the different veggies and decided on green beans as her first food. Normally you want to try the new food three times before you decide if they don't like it or have any allergies. Also, you want to alternate between green and orange vegetables. Knowing this, I turned around to grab three stage one jars of green bean baby food, turned around to put them in the cart. And my whole world collapsed. My whole cart was gone, including my baby girl.

I dropped the jars and screamed, where's my baby? Everyone turned and looked at me, but no one moved. I, to this day, don't know how I stayed so level-headed and reacted with precision. Now listen, I'm a big girl. I'm not morbidly obese, but I am by no means in shape whatsoever. I have many curves and I love all my perfect imperfections, but I swear you have never seen a fat person run so fast in your life. I immediately ran to the front of the Walmart to the officer and said my child was kidnapped, you need to initiate a lockdown. The Walmart manager happened to be standing right behind me. Both men jumped to action quickly. All doors were shut, locked, and gated, and no one was being permitted in or out. They asked me so many questions and hysterically crying, I tried to answer to the best of my

ability. Cell phones didn't always have cameras in these days, nor were they as common as they are now. Thank God I still had my purse on my shoulder which I had her hospital baby pictures in, and pictures I had just picked up that day from development. Many volunteers and workers were put into action looking for promise or any trace of her car seat or belongings. Forty-five minutes passed of looking and the initial shock was wearing off. I was beginning to lose hope and frantically screaming for my baby. The cops suggest we look at security tapes which were now available to view to see if they left the store. By now many officers were in the building as well.

I felt defeated having searched the whole store. I started the long descent to the front of the store. The officers were talking but I didn't hear anything they said. We passed the women's area and I heard my daughter crying. Yes, a mother knows her child's cry and what each cry sounds like. The cop said, what? I said, shut up up that's my baby everyone stopped and looked at me crazy but there was a faint cry i found the entire cart baby and all inside of a rack of woman's clothes half and with what looked like the person who hid it trying to hide the cart with other clothes but this time promise was screaming her poor little heart out. I was never so happy to hear a child cry. I unbuckled her and held her close to me and finally broke down crying,

falling to my knees. My fiasco wasn't over yet though. I wanted to know who did this to my child. The EMTs looked over promise to check she wasn't hurt, and by sight and vitals all seemed well besides a dirty diaper, thank God. I was escorted to the security office and shown a truly terrifying CCTV video. Thankfully, they had just installed new cameras in the store and specifically in the baby aisle because baby formula was being stolen in bulk. Knowing what time she was taken and exactly where I was, it wasn't hard to find the abduction tape. There was a woman with two children and the young male child was seen pushing my cart with my daughter away with the woman and other child in tow. After some time searching through the sea of people shopping that day, the small family was found. Thankfully for her, the officer wouldn't allow me near her.

At the time, she claimed her son had stolen the cart and she was scared she would be charged with a crime or have immigration called on her. Right. I was then asked the stupidest question to date I've ever been asked. Do you want to press charges? I'm pretty sure you all know my answer. A year or so later the litigation finally began. The woman was in her 20s as well and of Mexican descent. Turns out the other two children weren't even hers. She had

kidnapped them as well. When the judge asked her why she did this to me and my daughter she replied with a smug look on her face that she felt like it she had already took two other children from the same walmart so why not get what she actually wanted a baby she was trying to appear insane but of course she was proven by a psychiatrist to be of sound mind. She was not only charged with kidnapping but child endangerment and a slew of other charges. The apartment she was staying in was absolutely disgusting and she was abusing the other children. My heart dropped into my stomach and I actually vomited when the details of everything were laid out. She had already done this in other states and was on an offender list as well. She was sentenced to 15 to 20 years in prison and she has tried to parole twice and I

testify every time against this. I have never taken my daughter to Walmart ever again nor has she eaten green beans. I have severe PTSD from this event. I also am way too overprotective of my daughter. All in all, she is a healthy 14-year-old little woman now. She is such a good child, smart and bright, and the highlight of my life. I'm so blessed to call her my daughter. I literally couldn't ask for a better child. She's a little mouthy, but I have no idea where she gets that from. Thanks so much to law enforcement and first responders. And thank you to all the employees of Walmart on 50. And lastly, thank you so much to all the people who volunteered that day to save my baby girl. To the child napping monster rotting in prison, I hope you drop the soap.

A couple of years ago when I was 16, my friend's mom got me a job as a janitor for a big building where people work in cubicles, and I'd have to vacuum once everyone had left from 7pm to 12am. The job was a 45 minute drive and my parents wouldn't allow me to drive that far at night, which forced me to take two trains, one from a station close to home that would take me downtown and then I would take the second one which would take me to my job. It took the train to get to my stop about 45 minutes since it had to do many stops. This one day I had lunch on the first train which caused me to be sleepy during the second train ride and eventually making me fall asleep. When I woke up I realized I had missed my stop but only by about four to five stops. Naturally though I got anxious and got off at the next stop right away.

The first thing I noticed was that it was raining and getting sort of dark since it was winter time so as soon as I got off I went inside one of the two cabins to wait for the train that would take me back to my stop. I was the only person on the platform and I'm not gonna lie I had a strong loneliness and a spooky kind of feeling. I had my headphones on while I was looking at what time the train would pick me up and also texting my manager that I would be a little late. Out of nowhere though I noticed two Asian ladies in their mid-20s approaching the cabin I was at and I didn't think anything of it since it was raining so I thought they just wanted a roof as well. But they were closer to the other cabin so I wondered why they didn't go to that one. When they got to where I was I heard them say something to me so I stood up and took my

headphones off to pay attention to what they needed. This is where it gets weird. Both of them got really close to me, not leaning but standing literally inches from my face. Then when they opened their mouths to say something, I immediately noticed that both of them had yellow and extremely crooked teeth and had very repulsive breath. They really loudly started saying the words, I want phone, can I have your phone, give phone with a really heavy accent. All of this while they had a very creepy big smile with their eyes wide open. The second I tried to back away one of them put their arm on my shoulder saying hey shh shh shh with that big creepy smile still on their faces. I wasn't scared since I've always been the tough brother figure so

I'm always ready to defend myself from anything. I pushed her arm off as I was getting annoyed and right at that moment I heard the train pull up to the platform so I got on it and sat on the very front and waited for it to leave. I was distracted texting my manager that I was on my way so I momentarily forgot about the crazy ladies until I remembered and just to make sure I looked back at the very end of the wagon not expecting really anything but to my surprise there they were staring at me with the same crazy smile and since now we're a couple of meters away from each other their eyes seem to not have color which just made the situation even creepier. I continued looking back every minute or so and they kept switching seats to get closer to me all while staring directly at me. I finally arrived at my stop, so I got up and kept my eyes

on them with a mad expression on my face, kind of expecting them to get off as well, but they just stared back smiling, waved goodbye, and stayed seated until the train left. I felt a huge weight off my shoulders and walked to the building I worked at but I just kept thinking about what had just happened during my shift and since there's very few people who work in this huge building it made me feel very unsettled for the rest of the night. So this happened when I was 13 I believe which would have put me in 8th grade. I was about 5'2 and 100 pounds and my friend wasn't much bigger. I'm 18 now, so this would have been in 2013 or 14.

I went with my best friend at the time, Kennedy, to an amusement park not far from where we lived. Probably a 30 minute train ride. We spent the whole day there and started to head back around 10.30pm. We got on the bus which would take us to the train station and there was only one other person on with us. I'm shy but Kennedy is very extroverted. So she began to make conversation with the other guy on the train. I didn't want to talk as I had a really bad feeling about this man. He was probably mid-thirties, balding, short, chubby and smelled really weird. I got a bad vibe but Kennedy just made small talk. Asked about his day, where he's from, etc.

He told us he's from the city to the west which I won't name but we were going to be headed north. We got off the bus and headed to the train which would not arrive for about 20 more minutes. We sat down and honestly thought that was the end of it but after a minute this man comes and sits right next to me and starts talking to us again. At this point I'm like hmm something's off here and I just wanted to go home. You could tell Kennedy was starting to realize this isn't right also. I see a couple of guys probably 16 or so big guys tall and definitely strong and I make eye contact with one and I think he sensed the fear in my eyes. He and his friend came over and sat on the other side of us, next to Ken. They talked to us as if though they'd known us forever. Finally, the train comes

and it's the opposite way the man should be going, so I feel like we'll be safe. We go to the top of three stories on it and sit down. The boys who had come sat by us, sat a few rows down, and we look over and the creep is walking up the stairs. At this point, I'm like, okay. He sits down right next to me so that I'm by the window and he's by the aisle. The boys notice this and come up and basically surround us. I text Kennedy that I'm going to go downstairs and I grab one of the boys to go with me. I told him that this guy is following us and he's supposed to be going the other way and something's not right. At this point I'm in tears, I'm so scared. One of the guys hugs me and tells me it's going to be alright and he types on his phone and texts his friends.

My stop finally comes by now, it's about 11.30 at night and pitch dark out. We get up and the creep gets up as well and starts to go to get off the train with us. I'm panicking and I look at the boys who grab the man by his shoulder and tell him they know what he's doing and he's not getting off at the stop. He gets angry and starts to try and convince them that he knows us and he's with us and he's like our uncle or something. They obviously don't buy his story and Kennedy and I run off the train as fast as we can, thanking the guys so much as we run. The man wasn't able to get off at our stop and we managed to get home safely, thankfully. But every time I'm at that train station I think of that man

and what he could have been planning for my friend and I that night I know it couldn't have been good I'm a girl and this happened when I was about 10 years old. During the witching hour, approximately 3am, although I didn't know this at the time, I woke up one night. I went to the bathroom and when I was in the hallway I saw that the lights in our backyard were on. These only came on when it was dark and someone was moving around. Because it was late spring early summertime my pet rabbit was in his larger cage so he could nibble on the grass and enjoy the night air. I went to look and saw shadows sitting next to the cage. Thinking it was one of my parents checking if I had locked the cage before going to bed I thought nothing of it. When I was back in my room facing the front of

the house I thought it was chilly and went to close one of the windows. Since I was back in my room, facing the front of the house, I thought it was chilly and went to close one of the windows. Since I didn't put on any lights inside, I could clearly see someone walking through the garden towards the back of the house. I thought I recognized my mother so I called out to her. In my ten year old mind, I thought she wanted to know I was awake. The shadow looked up to my window and ran to the back of the house. I never heard the back door or anyone walking inside but still being tired I didn't think anything of it at the time and went back to sleep. The next morning at breakfast I asked my mom why she was in the garden during the night and if she had heard me calling for her.

She said she didn't go outside after I had gone to bed and both my parents and my sister dismissed my story of shadow people in the garden and near my rabbit as a dream or nightmare. During my day at school my mind kept going to the night's events but I tried to convince myself my family was right. When I came home my mom called me into the kitchen. She was sitting there talking to a police officer. Not knowing what to think I sat down next to my mom. She said the officer was here to talk about what I saw during the night. For perspective we went up to my room so I could show the officer what I saw and where I stood. After going through my entire story the officer told

me they had found papers, money and passports right at the edge of the forest that bordered our backyard. He told me that they were stolen from a home invasion a couple of streets away. For years this was all I knew until my mother told me the following. The home invasion wasn't a couple of streets away. Our next door neighbors were robbed. My parents truly believed that I had had a bad dream until police officers came to our house for a neighborhood canvas. It was at that point it started to dawn on them that I indeed might have seen something. It was never known to me and my parents if the

burglars got caught but we always and still believe that my statement had helped the police to get them. At least my being awake and closing my window got our neighbors their passports and some of their money back. I'm a 25 year old short girl. Not ugly but I'm not a model either. My boyfriend dumpster dives and will usually leave me alone in the car to grab stuff around the other side of the buildings. Normally I just listen to music, watch YouTube or whatever on my phone. This time we weren't using my car as it died, instead using his car which we never use as it's really old. So windows rolled down he turns the car off as his headlights stay on with the car regardless.

He's gone for about the usual 15 minutes but longest 15 minutes I've felt in years. Not long after parking and settling in I see headlights in the otherwise abandoned Staples parking lot. Sometimes it's a cop, lovers, guy wanking it or someone sleeping in their car. So I'm not alerted by another car. I don't really care but we did drive by that car and was full of trash to the brim. Honestly thought it was abandoned. But anyways I assumed we awoke a homeless guy sleeping in his car. What I found odd though was a blue 2019 Hyundai. I know this car well. Many people drive it as does my best friend. I really wouldn't expect someone to fill a new car with that much trash and

wondered if they were that bad off mentally, how could they afford a new car? I can't. Still, I shrug it off. You see quite a bit of midnight dumpster diving, a lot of people watching, so this car rolls up behind me and I get a little on edge as this is kind of weird. Then suddenly their brights turn on and of course I look back to see what their deal was. My blood ran cold. I was frozen in fear with tears as the man gets out of his car. I go to roll up my window. Of course my boyfriend took the keys without thinking because he had to turn the car off to turn off the lights. He starts mumbling. I can't understand anything as in the slowest walk possible starts making his way to the

passenger side of the car. I feel like I can't breathe as I watch him, smiling, walking over to me. I'm crying without even blinking, just rolling down my face. I felt so helpless, paralyzed. He gets up close with his hands on the door window. I can see his un-groomed nails on the inside of the car. All I can hear honestly is my own heartbeat and his mumblings. He starts licking his lips and says something along the lines of you're pretty and asking if I was a call girl being out so late. I can now smell the liquor on his breath. I don't know why but being called that snapped me out of my fear ridden state. Opening the door he was leaning on but he pushed back and said no girl you're mine tonight. Just then my body reacted faster than my brain, kicking the

door open with both feet. He hit the ground hard, he wasn't moving. I run to the back of the building, keep checking if he's running after me. Halfway back I see my boyfriend with a smile that quickly turned to concern. I just cry and say that there's a man by the car. He stops to look and from a distance he can see the man laying there. I've never seen my boyfriend so angry and scared. His grip on me tightened as he said be prepared to run but as he watches the man he doesn't move at all. With fear minutes later he asks me, is he dead? I tell him I don't know. I pushed him hard and he was against the door. Slowly he creeps over to check to make sure I didn't hurt this guy, making me wait far away. He said he was breathing, snoring even. I seemingly knocked him out or in his drunken state fell asleep.

There was no blood but we called an ambulance anyways. I don't want to be caught leaving the scene if he did pass away. The officer asked what we were doing here and dumpster diving is actually legal so we just admit it outright. Obviously the guy was struggling with something in the state of his new car filled with trash and drunk in a parking lot at 1am. I hope he gets the help he needs at the hospital and stays away from women when he drinks. For a bit of context, I'm a 25-year-old woman and a very creative person. I'm no stranger to my mind creating terrible nightmares. But this man, Shadow, or whatever he is, doesn't seem to be just a nightmare. But the first time I encountered the smiling man was back when I was in high school.

I had a very long day of school and working at my part-time job so opted to go to bed early when I got home. I said goodnight to my parents and went to my room, my old dog Max following me. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I'm not sure how long I was asleep but I awoke in a panic. I wanted to sit up and turn on my light but I couldn't get up. My eyes darted around my room landing on what seemed to be a man. A jarring silhouette outlined by the moonlight streaming into my room. Though I strained my eyes staring at him, I couldn't make out anything more than his black eyes and his ear-to-ear bright white pointed smile. I wanted to scream but my voice wouldn't come. I looked over to my dog. He was softly sleeping next to me. When I looked back

at the smiling man, he had moved closer to my bed. It then became the sick version of the no blinking game. Once I was losing, till finally his face was leveled with mine, and in sheer terror I closed my eyes, tight, not able to stand that smile anymore. My alarm blared, and I nearly fell out of bed, covered in a cold sweat. These have been my regular experiences with the smiling man. I did research and brought him to life in drawings and even paintings in order to face the fear but he continued to visit me from time to time and at one point I had decided that he appeared when I had some pretty serious stuff happening in my life, loss, illness, etc. But now after years of not seeing him in my nightmares

he's back. It's all the same, I can't move, I can't call out to my husband or my puppy and I have to stare at his awful smile and this time I can feel his long cold fingers slithering across my body even through my sheets. He has been lingering practically around my belly. Me and my husband had started talking about having children. I fear for the worse. This happened 8 years ago in a house that used to belong to my mother's friend until she passed away in a horrible accident. That information will be important later. One morning myself, my sister and my friend were having a fun time running away from my younger brother as he chased us through the house. We were around 10 at the time and he was around 7. After a while of running around our legs grew tired so we ran to the bathroom at the end of the

hall and locked ourselves in. For a minute we were all giggling while my younger brother was saying in a creepy kid's voice, let me in. Everyone was laughing and smiling until we noticed our brother was now silent. Too silent. That's when the air grew cold and the tension was sickening. Normally we would think he was just hiding from us but not this time. A looming sense of dread came with that silence that sunk our stomachs. I started to reach towards the door handle when I heard my brother give a blood-curdling scream while he pounded on the bathroom door. We scrambled to unlock the handle where our brother's crying words deafened us.

Let me in, please, he repeated over and over again. When the door finally flung open, he ran and buried his face in our arms. What's wrong? What happened? We all asked, knowing he wasn't playing around. There was a girl, he said through his loud sobs. We looked quickly at each other in confusion while he continued. She only had half a face. The other half of her body was burnt and just a skeleton. No words could describe the way I felt at that moment. She turned to me, got on her tippy toes and fingers and ran at me

even through all these years i remember that day so vividly for some reason the previous owner the previous owner my mom's friend lost her life when she was in a head-on collision with an 18 wheeler while going to pick up her daughter. She was ejected from the vehicle and her left side was burnt from where her body collided with the grill of the large truck. All I could think was this was her. That house had other creepy things happen that I have connected with her. One day when my sister woke up she saw a woman fitting the description of what my mother's friend was wearing the day she passed away. Another instance was when I was playing in my room and a ball rolled out from under my bed. When I rolled it under the bed again

it came back one last time. I looked and nothing was there. The only thing is all of the other paranormal happenings that we tied to her were nice Like she was watching over us But what my brothers saw in that house That didn't seem so pure It seemed menacing To start, it was this summer and I was 14. I spent the night at my friend's house, we'll call her Cynthia. So I rode the transit 20 something miles east. I don't really go east since I live on the beach cliff.

Beach towns are more popular but inland for a while is just highway. This town in the middle of the woods that was only visited by tourists if they were truly lost because it was a 10 mile hidden turn from the main highway. This town was one long road with a grocery store, gas station and motel with multiple roads down to pretty old houses. This place had some history pertaining to the local native tribe. With tall opaque walls of forest everywhere, I was on high alert because wendigos were talked about seriously and seen often. After walking down the completely quiet road for some time, I made it to her house. It was around 10pm when I arrived. Sometime later we got bored and of course decided to walk to Cynthia and I's friend's chemist's house and decided to steal some greenery from her dad's greenhouse, if you

know what I mean. 3am and some irrational decisions later, we are walking down the road and shivering cold. We cut through the trailer park and for some reason we had so much unexplainable adrenaline and also jumped over a 7 foot baseball fence which is curved inwards towards the field making tremendous noise climbing and jumping. We regretted it instantly and we both turned scared after noticing that we were now on the baseball field and to our left was exposed woods cynthia looked scared out of her mind and i picked up on it fast since we stood there in silence and pitch black dark as there wasn't

a street light for about 30 feet i whispered we can't jump back over the baseball fence, it's curved. So we started to walk along the fence with Cynthia looking, turning around frequently. After about 20 feet we turned around and saw a freakishly tall thing about half a football field away on our side of the fence. It was illuminated on its left side by somebody's window. We froze and stared while my heart dropped. My face went cold and my stomach retracted in fear. I couldn't tell which way it was facing, but this horrid thing moved slightly and I noticed one thing. The legs were bent backwards like a deer. It was standing two-ish feet above the fence, making it almost nine feet tall.

We booked it and ran the short distance to the public trail bathrooms across the deserted road. She pushed me inside in front of her. We locked the door instantly, choosing to be trapped. She grabbed her phone hesitantly and we looked at the empty bars. Obviously, sleep wasn't an option. We sat in that bathroom, freezing on the concrete floor for hours. Around the 30 minute mark, we heard gravel right outside the bathroom. We both moved slowly, slid across the bathroom, still not letting each other go. Under her coat,

clearly this thing was circling us. After three or four obvious circles it slowly went back to silence. Watch the sun come up. We heard some cars go by since daylight and we decided on the next faint sound of a car that we'd run to the early open gas station. Cynthia was drinking out of the sink when I alerted her of the car. We both grabbed our backpacks and she swung the heavy door open like it was nothing. After the short sprint and inside the station I looked through the glass door and I thought I saw it approximately 25 feet from the bathroom, pretty sure that it was walking into the forest. When I turned around I told her that I couldn't see it anywhere and that it was probably far gone.

I'm a 19 year old male but growing up my grandparents had custody of me. I lived in their house but my dad was around. At this point in time the story took place he lived in his own house and I was somewhere between six to eight years old. I would go over there on weekends or after school sometimes to be with him. My father isn't the best of people and he was involved in some very shady stuff. He had a lot of friends come through the house but my favorite were referred to by my dad as the Mexicans. They were my favorite friends because they would arrive to the house, walk back to his room for a few moments and leave. I was so used to being ignored or in the background while

people stayed all day and night that this was refreshing. One dark night my dad's friend came and got me from my grandparents. Right before we get into the neighborhood, my dad's girlfriend pulled up next to us. She had a conversation with my driver. I don't know what was said, but the mood suddenly changed and he rushed to my dad's house. We pull in front of the driveway and get out of the car. My dad quickly comes to the car, shadowed from the porch light behind him. He was angry, more angry than I'd ever seen him. In his rage, he comes up to the car and throws a deck of cards at the man who drove me to his house. He gets in his face and starts yelling

at him, swearing and accusing the man of betraying him. Both the man and I were so confused, me more than anybody else, as my dad took a breath to calm down. He explained that somebody had came to the house dressed like police officers but with ski masks on. They knocked on the door and eventually ended up kicking it in. They came for my dad and used a plug-in-and-play Pac-Man cord to tie him up. They stuck guns in his face and ransacked the house. The driver and I were both shocked. Thankfully, we had just missed the intruders and my dad ended up getting free from the unconventional restraints. We all walked inside the house. I went straight to my room to see what was touched. Nothing was taken except a power cord to my original Xbox. My room was completely untouched which surprised me but I had so much kid stuff I wrote it off as using the toys as an explanation.

My dad's room was almost cleaned out. His things in the living room and kitchen were also gone. He became engulfed in his rage again. I saw him yell and swear as he kicked a leftover chair. I quietly walked back into the living room and sat on the couch, my young mind racing, wondering if they would come back. Fear flowed through my body and at this time I noticed how late it was. It was a school night but my adrenaline was still pumping. I decided I couldn't go to school tomorrow. Terror still ran through my body and I sat there and cried. This wasn't the only time something like this happened. After that experience there were maybe two, maybe three more home invasions. Some involved guns, some just involved

beating my dad up with clubs and brass knuckles. I no longer felt safe inside the house. Anytime I was near the property I became nervous. The times I would actually go over there I would be scared out of my mind if a shadow in the night moved or an unexpected friend came over. Eventually the police found my dad's stuff in a truck and returned most of his things back to him. Years later I found out that my favorite friends, the one my dad called the Mexicans, were his dealers and they would come and rough him up or take his things as collateral when he wouldn't pay his debt. Or at least, that's what I'm told. For context, I am a 20 year old Hispanic woman and I am 4'11". In my city there was a scare around two years ago about a human trafficking tactic that would get young girls to go to a church of some kind and be kidnapped there. Some girls at a local mall

were approached by two women who would ask them if they wanted to learn about God, the mother. They knew what the trick was and ran immediately to security and the other recruitment women ran away as soon as they saw security. What God, the mother is, is far darker than a simple church. These women try to trick you into feeling safe because you are talking to women. They ask for your number and email in order to contact you. This is for you to be called to a certain place or maybe even track you. The reason I mention this is because I was almost kidnapped. I was and currently am attending community college in order to get a transfer to a better university.

It may seem expensive but it helps me financially in the long run. It was around winter semester when this happened. I was waiting outside a classroom my friend was in so that we can take the bus together to go back home. While I was waiting, two women of Asian descent were walking around and talking to girls. I looked up and thought, well, it is community college. They may be a club or people allowed into school grounds to promote something, so I didn't pay it much mind. That was until they came up to me. I was listening to music and they waved to get my attention. I took off an earbud and they asked if I knew about God the Mother. I immediately felt a cool sweat near my neck.

It had been drilled in my mind that I wouldn't be gullible and to stand my ground no matter how introverted I was. I told them calmly that I wasn't interested and they persisted a bit but ultimately gave up. However, as they were walking away they went up to another girl to do the same to her, but they recognized her. They went to the same classes as that woman that they were talking to. Not once did they ask her about God the Mother, so now I knew for sure that they target those either not part of the church, or that they simply know a certain someone of that church to not participate. My friend finally came out and I told her everything. We went downstairs from her classroom and there they were again, explaining about the church.

As soon as the young woman was done talking to two Asian women, we let her catch up to where we were and told her everything. Me and my friend ended up saving a life that day. I'm a 17 year old girl. I have found the one I will be staying with for the rest of my life. And I have a dark, twisted, horrible past that haunts me. I am writing this to my boyfriend, my fiancé, and the one person who has accepted me throughout it all. My depression has gotten worse.

I can't think about the past again without breaking down. I wish I could get over every little thing and not hurt. I love you so much. I deal with most of the pain on my own because I don't want to tear you down with me. You don't know how much you mean to me. You mean everything to me. I don't ever want to be a burden on you. I don't want to disappoint you, let you down, you mean everything to me. I don't ever want to be a burden on you. I don't want to disappoint you, let you down, tear you down, anything. I don't want to put you through any kind of pain. And if I told you every single time I was down, I'd be a burden on you in so many ways. So I hide some of it and let the rest out while you're asleep and then cuddle you until I feel better. I know it's not right right but I love you so much I can't bring myself to tear you down with me.

I don't want to drag you down. I'm supposed to be lifting you up like you do to me every single second you're with me, the highlight of my day. You are the sun that brings me life and the only reason I wake up so early because I'm so excited to spend every last second I have with you. I know this is depressing and you might be overthinking if you do ever read this, but I care about you so much, I don't ever want to see you hurt. It'll hurt me too much if you ever got hurt. I couldn't bring myself to love me ever again if I ever hurt you in any kind of way. So I'm sorry I deal with a lot on my own. It's only for you. So I can prove I am strong.

So I can prove I can get better. You don't have to watch over me every second of the day. So you can live your life to the fullest. Live your dream. Live the way you want without having a huge burden on your shoulder. I love you. And I'll start loving me more. Hey friends, thanks for listening.

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