The Lets Read Podcast - 86: Episode 077 | Stalker & Valentines Day Stories | 24 True Scary Horror Stories

Episode Date: December 15, 2020

Welcome to the seventy-seventh 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 Being Stalked at Work, Valentines Day and Deserted Roads...  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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Last year we hired a guy, we'll name him Hayden. Hayden was a little quiet on the first day but quickly became more talkative and over the next couple of weeks started to never stop talking. He would constantly say weird stuff. For instance, one day he was in charge of building furniture. Our store carries stuff like furniture and home decor as well. He was apparently having difficulty assembling the table he was working on and said something about cutting his wrists if he can't figure out how to put it together. Another time we were both working in the stockroom and he kept talking about how much he looked like the Parkland shooter Nicholas Cruz. I'll admit he did in fact look like that kid but it was creepy nonetheless.

I remember one day I had gotten off of work and was waiting for my ride to pick me up when, out of nowhere, Hayden walked up behind me. He just stood there with an awkward smile on his face and I politely asked him what's up. He said something to the effect of, Oh, nothing much, just enjoying my lunch break. I'm thinking about going inside Taco Bell,

which was right across the parking lot from our work, and shanking somebody. He pretty much laughed and said he was joking after saying that. When my wife picked me up, we saw him walking toward the Taco Bell and just flashed us this creepy ear-to-ear smile. So the last straw for me was when he and I were assigned to work our spring freight and get it loaded up on a large U-boat. Our shift started at 7am and was over at noon. It was 11 and we still hadn't finished our task because Hayden just wouldn't stop goofing around. He would also work very slowly on purpose and would only take one item to the U-boat at once. Our boss came to where we were working and was upset that we weren't done yet. He told us we would both get written up if the job wasn't finished before we were off.

I was mad at this point and Hayden knew it. He seemed to feel pretty bad for pretty much getting me in trouble and apologized. He then said something that really concerned me. He said in the most serious tone I had ever heard him speak in since meeting him, If I get fired, I'll shoot this place up. He went on to say that he knew where all the emergency exits are and would first shoot all the cashiers and then move on to the other employees in the store. I'll admit I didn't immediately report what he said but it did have me on edge and I kept thinking about what if. After some convincing from my wife I finally did the right thing and

informed my manager. They took a report from me and contacted the police. After two more days of working with Hayden he was fired and subsequently arrested for his threats. The week after he got arrested my boss held a meeting with the entire staff and told everyone what happened. After everyone left the meeting he pulled me aside and revealed to me what the police and Hayden talked about during the interrogation. I don't completely remember what was said but Hayden apparently admitted that he said what he said and kept asking if I had been the one who reported him. Fast forward to a few weeks ago, I was working at the same store,

still am, and I was heading to the break room for my final break when I heard a voice from one of the aisles to the left. A man was standing next to the paint case and asked if I could get him some paint. While I was opening the case he addressed me by name which I immediately thought was weird because I wasn't wearing my name tag on this particular day. Out of curiosity I asked him how he knew my name and he said it was just a lucky guess, to which I thought was BS, mainly because his tone of voice seemed sarcastic. The entire time I was getting his paint, he was staring at me with a smirk on his face. He then began to ask me questions about my name, which is the same name of a popular TV show character. He asked what year I was born in, why my parents decided to give me that name, etc.

At this point I started to walk away and as I had other things to do and the whole time I was walking away he was still trying to talk to me and I heard him yelling my name from three aisles down. I went and stood in the warehouse until I thought he was gone. Later that same day one of my co-workers asked me if I knew the guy who was buying the paint and I told her I didn't. She told me that he had approached her and asked her all kinds of questions about me like if I'm a good worker and if she likes me as a co-worker. This is an ongoing issue too as he comes into the store two other times, one being yesterday during my day off and apparently asked where I was.

I don't know for sure but I suspect that this guy might be cousins with Hayden as they sort of look alike and have similar mannerisms. Both look super similar to the Parkland guy and have that same creepy vibe. This might not be the scariest thing on here but I think I'm being stalked by my old co-worker and I'll update if anything else happens. Update. Tonight I worked the closing shift and was outside getting carts after the store closed at 8pm when two SUVs pulled into the parking lot. One of them parked behind the store and the other one parked in the main parking lot. I was standing in front of the entrance doors when a man dressed in all black and wearing a hood stepped out of one of the SUVs. Another guy walked up next to him and they both started approaching the store.

I politely told them that we were closed and then I looked down to notice a large baseball bat in the hoodie guy's hand. I started repeatedly ringing the doorbell to be let back inside and these guys were just pacing back and forth in the lot staring right at me. My manager let me in and called the police. The guys were long gone when they got there and this could have easily been a totally unrelated incident but I thought I'd still update because the whole thing makes me think it could have been you know who. When I was in junior high school I was quite an odd kid. I liked having colorful hair, piercings, and all that kind of stuff, and the school I went to was near Atlanta, so there weren't many people like me. I tried to find friends that liked the same kind of music and other interests,

and I could normally kind of brush off any weird energy that people put off. Ignored it. I just wanted friends. Anyway, I was in a gym one day, hanging out with a group of weirdos and there was a guy I hadn't seen before. He was wearing a Guns N' Roses t-shirt and jeans that were like a size too small. His name was Ernest. We immediately clicked with each other in a platonic way because we laughed at a lot of the same things. We started hanging out in the gym together every day, people watching and making fun of people playing basketball. It wasn't too long until he started making fun of my appearance and making me feel absolutely terrible about myself.

I had super acne bad in high school and he joked about that I had meth skin. Alright, first strike. Me being me though, I kept hanging out with him and eventually it led to hanging out after school. He would invite me over to his house and we only stayed in his room. He refused to let me meet his family. His parents didn't really speak English, but I still wanted to meet them. I always thought it was weird that Ernest didn't know Spanish, but his siblings did. And when he could speak words, it sounded almost Russian. He pretty much only played It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia on TV

and rambled about superheroes and would always come up with these strange scenarios where he was an evil villain and how much power he could have. Fast forward, I get a job at a pizza place. Ernest gets the same job at this pizza place, so inevitably we are always together. Always. He pretty much never lets me out of his grasp. It got to a point where he took me to school every day in his PT Cruiser, which I still get chills every time I see one of those freaking shoe-shaped cars. We started skipping school a lot.

I mean, we pretty much went to school about two or three times a week and this is where it starts to suck pretty bad. He started pressuring me to do intimate things with him. I don't really want to get into detail because it's pretty disturbing but he manipulated the situation in such a way I felt like we were in a relationship because I thought that I needed him. He really convinced me that we were a couple, but I was so repulsed by him that I never could fully accept that. He started telling our friends that we had slept together and that we were in a relationship, but I denied it all. And to this day, I still deny it. I've lied to therapists, I've lied to friends, but right now I am admitting to all of that. At one point he ended up living with me and my family in the same room as me.

He had convinced my entire family that he was gay so that he could live with me. He literally dressed up in pink and put a scarf around his neck and pranced around my aunt trying to win her over with this fake personality. I was so used to living in chaos that this was barely a problem for me. During all of this he was so rude to me. I remember asking for a ride one day, I can't remember to where, and he said no, for no good reason. I started to get really angry because he couldn't actually give me a reason, he just kept smirking at me. He did this type of thing frequently. We were sitting in the living room and he suddenly got up and drove off somewhere, came back, walked into the living room doorway, stared at me for 15 seconds and walked into my room. I hear a bunch of rustling,

so I storm in there thinking he's up to something sketchy. He's gotten completely dressed in his sleep pants with his hand in his pocket. He just wouldn't take his hand out of his pocket. At this point I'm scared. I force my hand into his pockets and pull out a knife. I don't remember how the night or days continued after that. Fast forward again. I'm at my best friend Kayla's birthday party and everyone is camping in the backyard. Ernest hated Kayla because she was a way out for me in his perspective. She got in the way of us.

I'm sweating typing this out because this is probably one of the scariest things that ever happened to me. The sequence of events is a little bit blurry but I remember it. I had made it clear to Ernest at this point in time that we were not a thing and that he needed to let go of that fantasy. I had a crush on this boy named John and we slept in the same tent together. Morning comes and I hear Ernest outside asking people if they knew where I was someone said she's in the tent with John I was scared immediately I knew something bad was about to happen the tent rips open I don't have a shirt on he begins screaming as loud as he can cussing all of us out and just pitching an absolute fit and he storms off. He goes to his car and calls me and tells me to get to the car now. Everyone there was freaked

out and Kayla advised me not to go to the car because she knew how scary Ernest was just as a person. I didn't want anyone to be uncomfortable so I figured that if I went to the car it would ease everyone just a little bit that he wasn't there. I went. As soon as the door closed we sped off. Fast. Really fast. I look over at him wide eyed and he is scream crying with absolutely no expression on his face. Tears streaming but emotionless. He says, you were supposed to love me, over and over and over again. He starts speeding faster and said, if I can't love you, then no one else can. I'm actively having a straight panic attack in the passenger seat. I can't hear because my ears are ringing and I can't see a thing. Meanwhile, Kayla has already called my mom and somehow my mom left

the house fast enough to track us down in that PT cruiser. They park to the church and my mom is watching us. Ernest has a box cutter at his side. I get a call from my mom. I can't really remember what she said but I know it was something along the lines of I'm gonna slit your throat to Ernest. He started coming to his senses if you can even call it that and drops me back off at Kayla's and tells me that he's going to end his own life after he drops me off. Kayla and I were frantically trying to call his parents about what was possibly imminent however they could not speak English. He called the police on himself because he thought he was going to harm himself or someone else.

He was gone for a couple of weeks and when he came back, he parked outside my school waiting for me to come out. He runs up to me. I noticed that he had on a plaid button-up shirt and it was tucked into his pants which was just extremely odd to me and I knew immediately that this was a fake personality. He was speaking differently as well, proper almost, like a few weeks had turned him into a saint. It wasn't long after that that I had admitted myself into a mental institution because I just kept breaking down. Everyone in the group told me to get rid of him and I had not realized how serious this was until I saw everyone's reactions to the

stories. There are so many stories of this psycho but I can't even type it all out. I did get rid of him. I found new friends and without him I don't know how this could have gone. I haven't seen or spoken to him in about three years and I hope I never do. So this happened within the last 24 hours. I live in a large city in the US. Like many people, I have taken it on myself to try and get back in shape during the new year, so I've recently got into running and lifting five days a week. Yesterday was a run day for me. I usually start at my apartment and cross over to this long park that runs the river close to my apartment.

The park is filled with sports fields, tennis courts, and many runners along the pathway. I've been going two to three times a week for just over a month. I was on my run last night listening to a podcast, minding my own business, and decided to go a little further than I normally do. To this, this longer stretch where the park sort of ends for like a half a mile before it picks back up. Kind of an area where they park equipment. Many people avoid this area due to it being a waterfront and pretty ugly. I decided to run to the end of this area before circling back home. As I'm running, I see a man 200 or so feet ahead of me walking my direction. Not unusual at all.

I pass like 40 people already but this area is empty except him and I, as most people, circle back. Still I ride my bike here to commute for work and have never gotten weird vibes. I'm also an average built man and feel pretty secure most places in my relatively safe neighborhood. I keep running, listening to my podcast when I notice the man's path is directly in line with me, as in if I continue 150 more feet I'd run right into him. So I shift to the other side of the path, 10 or so feet, keep running, not paying attention, look back up and he's in my path again, still no alarms, maybe he shifted to get out of my way and we did that thing where we both went, so I shift back to

the side I started on, I watch him, he shifts to my side, I'm thinking this guy is messing with me, I'm 50 feet away and between there and 20 feet I keep shifting more and more quickly. He follows me exactly to the point he is sidestepping instead of moving forward, waiting for me to reach him. At this point, I take his presence in. He is 6'3 at the shortest, in jeans and black hoodie with the hood up. Can't really make out his face due to a streetlight behind him casting a shadow. I begin to realize I might be in trouble. I come to a stop and pull my headphones out and begin the sentence. What are you doing man? I get to what are you doing when he raises both arms above his head and begins to scream at me.

Not legible words I can hear over my podcast. I do notice he has something long and white or beige in his hands. At this point, I begin to backtrack, keeping my eyes on him. All of the sudden, he dashes towards me, running with his arms stretched out to grab me. I turn and hightail it the other way. It should be known I am not in the best of shape. I've had numerous injuries requiring surgeries and I've just done about 75% of my intended run for the night, but I've never ran faster. He kept pace and closed much of the distance, but when we started going slight uphill I continued to make ground.

We came to a fork in the path after about a minute of this. The two paths circled around a fenced in area that contained construction vehicles and mowers etc. I made it look like I was going one way and at the last moment dashed the other way. The paths kind of made a circle so I was able to get far enough ahead of to where he couldn't see me via the fence and bushes and when I felt like it was my chance I dove into a bush, clawed my way under the fence and crawled through the space and out the other side of the enclosure. At this point I was already on the phone with the police trying to get help as I gulped down breaths of air. I was also warning other runners. He eventually just followed my pace opposite side of the fence. He kept ducking into darker areas around the enclosure and eventually I lost sight of him. I began getting worried again and kept wandering around, warning people while I waited on the cops. After about 15 minutes of not seeing him, I peaced out of there as the cops said they were close. The jog home was horrible and anytime a

runner passed me I would have a mini panic attack. I was in shock and running off adrenaline the remainder of the night. I'm not really sure what happened or what was going on. It felt like it was from a movie. Today I checked the Citizen app and Twitter to see if anything had happened. I'm not sure if it's related. It most likely isn't, but five hours after I called the cops, they pulled the body of a man out of the river a mile or two down river from where the attempted attack occurred. I attended a pretty awful university in the UK. In fact it was so awful that Vice even published an article written by a student that attended at the same time as me titled, Three Years of Hell at the University

of Wolverhampton. I lived in a student building in the middle of the city. Of the three student buildings available, it was the middle choice. Literally, it was situated in the middle of the three and almost figuratively, it was the middle, not as the three and almost figuratively it was the middle, not as fancy as the fancy one, not as unbearable as the worst one. Most of my friends lived in the fancy building. To get there, I had to walk a small trek through a residential part of the city but my friends found a shortcut. You could actually cut through and climb up at the back of a garden behind an abandoned house to get there in less than half the time.

I started using the shortcut all the time. One morning I walked around towards the garden and down to my shortcut and found three grown men standing there. They all looked, for lack of a better word, thuggish and large. I uttered a small, oh, when I saw them and they all looked up at me. A pale 19-year-old gay country boy with a blonde mohawk. I think I apologized for barging in on what I was pretty sure was a drug deal and I turned to walk back the way I came and take the long way around. As I walked away one of them shouted to get my attention. I ignored them and then I heard them coming after me so I started to run.

I was much younger, slimmer and fitter back in those days so I managed to outrun them pretty easily and sprinted all the way around the long route to my friend's building where they let me in. I explained what had happened and no one was surprised. This was Wolverhampton after all. A few minutes later a friend of ours arrived. He lived at a non-university student building off campus and had to walk a different way to get to where we were. When he arrived he asked me, Kyle what did you do? I asked him why and he said that an enormous guy had come up to him and asked if he'd seen a guy with a blonde mohawk. But my friend acted dumb even though he immediately knew who he'd been talking about.

My poor choice of hair was fairly distinct. The worst part, the guy was carrying a brick in his hand. Still gives me shivers all these years later. But it doesn't end there. My friends and I went for a day out to Birmingham. Bright lights, big city, whatever. And didn't get home until late. We got back to the building and drank until way after midnight.

I started to relax and forget my horrible ordeal from earlier that morning. At some point, more than a little drunk, I decided to head home. I was now pretty sure I would never take that shortcut again, so I took the long way home instead. As I was walking through the residential area, a car stopped on the opposite side of the road. There were two guys in the car, and the car was filled with smoke and stank of weed when they rolled down the window to speak to me. I didn't have headphones in or anything and I was the only person on the street so I couldn't ignore them or pretend I couldn't hear them. Nice hair, the driver said and his friend sneered. Oi mate, do you know where we can get some food?

I don't know, in the city center? I said. I kept walking, trying not to show them how unnerved I was. They were facing the wrong way to drive alongside me, so the driver put the car in reverse so that they could keep pace with me. Do you know any places? A few. There's a kebab place at the top of the road. Get in and show us, yeah? I'm drunk and tired and I've got lectures in the morning. I said, trying to sound casual even though I was just about ready to pee my pants. It hadn't been a good day. We're gonna turn around and come back and pick you up. Wait there, yeah? The driver said. As the car started towards the end of the road, which was a dead end to turn around, I heard the passenger say, it's him. I knew it was him. When the car was far enough away,

I broke into a sprint and ran back towards my building. I stumbled down some stairs and twisted my ankle pretty badly but managed to limp the rest of the way and got through the front door just as the car drove past. I dread to think what could have happened that day. For the rest of my time at that god awful university I prayed to never meet any of those guys again, and fortunately, never did. Close to ten years ago, my best mate and I scored the deal of the century.

Liv and her parents recently purchased and refurbished home for cheap as chips rent so the property wasn't considered unoccupied and their insurance still covers it. They were planning on selling their house in the country and moving close to the town in a year but when they spotted this place it was perfect so they snapped it up. They couldn't be bothered dealing with rando tenants for a year So we were offered it Schwing It was a lovely old mid-Victorian style house With a hallway running the majority of the length on the left side And three bedrooms and a bathroom coming off that hallway to the right At the back of the house was an open plan living room and kitchen and a backyard

It was in an inner Melvinian suburb so it was totally fenced in with a six foot fence on three sides and the front had a cutesy white picket fence. On the right side of the property an outdoor gravel pathway was wedged beside the bedroom walls and the fence line. It began with a gate in the front yard and ran the length of the property to the backyard. This is important later. My mate obviously scored the master bedroom at the front with lovely vertically opening bay windows facing the front garden and street. I had the next bedroom with a window facing the gravel path and fence and the third bedroom was our study. We lived here for close to 10 months in bliss great house great company and even though the

area was considered a little dicey the location was stella one hot summer's night we said our good nights and i hit the hay and zonked out immediately my housemate stayed up in bed and read for a bit with just her bedside light on she was doing that for just over an hour before she heard a weird scritch scratch on the front window of her bedroom. Initially she put it down to an overhanging tree branch, till she realized there was no overhanging tree branch. She sat frozen in fear, blankly staring at her book for what felt like eternity till she heard the noise again and again scritch scratch scritch scratch slowly looking up she saw a dude wearing a hoodie trying to open her window looking her dead in the eyes she screamed jumped out of bed and ran straight into

my room i woke up super dazed as she was pulling my hand and whisper yelling, you know the one, that someone was trying to break in. She had a tendency to be a little overdramatic sometimes, but I swear I've never seen someone look so genuinely terrified. I went to grab my phone to call the cops, but we just went completely still when we heard the distinct crunch crunch crunch of someone walking down the side path of the house. We both rolled off of my bed onto the floor and went completely still. The crunches continued getting closer to the bedroom window. I don't know what it was about distinct sounds at night when it's otherwise quiet, but it sounded deafening. And then I realized why it was so loud. My window was wide open. I jumped up, slid the window down, and slammed the lock shut just as he reached the window. He looked at me, but he didn't react at all.

He just calmly tried to open the window. But when he realized he couldn't, he continued down the path to the backyard. I was thoroughly soiling myself now, and my housemate was sobbing on the floor looking up at me like a bunny about to be torn apart by a fox. I sprinted to the back door to thankfully find it locked and ran back to my room and called the cops. I don't know what the cops knew that we didn't but they must have broken a land speed record to arrive in all of three minutes later, lights and sirens off. I saw them go down the side path, guns drawn, straight to the backyard. There were some noises from the front.

Then a knock at the back door a moment later and the police identified themselves. Turns out the dude had vaulted the back fence, an impressive feat if you ask me, and another patrol car was headed to the next street over to look for him. The two cops at our place asked if we were okay, then asked if they could come in and look around. The cops were honestly amazing. They managed to calm us down whilst making sure the place was safe and I was really impressed with how they handled the situation. I offered them a cup of coffee, which they politely declined as they took our statements and they asked if there was anyone that we could stay the night with. My housemate and I stayed at our boyfriend's place for a few nights after that and when we stayed in the house it was never the same.

We felt completely violated and ended up moving out a few weeks later. We never found out if the dude was caught but there was a random stabbing a few nights after the incident at the train station two streets over. If it was related or not I don't know but all I can think is that we were so lucky that it went the way it did. My wife and I traveled back to our hometown in Brisbane, Australia for the New Year holidays to spend time relaxing in the sun with the extended family and friends. Unfortunately, it was ruined by an encounter with a creep who insisted, with a very vicious persistence, that I wear the party hat that came out of the bonbon I shared with him.

For those who don't know, a bonbon is like a party cracker that two people pull from each end and break open. They contain a small trinket like a whistle, balloon, party hat, etc. I knew hardly anyone at the party except for my wife's immediate family, which totaled four people. There were about 20 people gathered. After dinner dessert was served and along with it some festively decorated bonbons, I was seated next to a man of about 30. He looked relatively normal except he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol the whole night and as far as I could tell he was nursing the same ginger beer I saw him with when I first walked in. Apart from exchanging a friendly nod when I sat next to him, we hadn't said a word to each other.

Then the bonbons came out and I suddenly found myself being presented with one end of it by him. Other guests were already pulling theirs apart so I obliged and pulled my end. A small folded square of paper flew out and into my lap. It was a party hat. Purple, shaped like a crown and made from what looked like tissue paper. I laughed and offered it to him. He stared pointedly at me, really cold, hard eyes. Put it on, mate. He said. It sounded more like an order. I instantly felt awkward and didn't know whether to laugh at his reaction or not. I excused myself and told him I'd give it to one of the kids as it was clearly far too small to fit on my head. He didn't like this answer. Come on, it's a party. Just have some fun and put the hat on.

He was visibly angry when he said it. My awkwardness peaked to an intolerable level and I told him I'd go find one of the kids to give it to. I found my wife and asked who the guy was. She said she didn't know him but knew his name was Jono and took the hat from me. I saw he wasn't seated at the table anymore but was mingling about the room talking to other guests but as he was talking to them he would look over at me and even point me out and say something to the person. They looked confused and a little creeped out themselves by the way. He was making a gesture like putting a hat on too. Then he would screw up his face when looking at me. A little later I was having small talk with my wife's brother-in-law when

Jono came out of nowhere and said to him, You see that guy here? He looked disgusted at me. He wouldn't even put the freaking hat on. It's New Year's Eve and he won't even have any fun. Our brother-in-law looked really confused and sort of just steered the conversation back to ourselves while trying to ignore him. As Jono left our chat he said to me, coming in real close to my ear, You'll wear that hat, even if I have to put it on your dead head myself.

Well, when someone says something like that, you know what you do. The rest of the evening was spent in nervous anticipation of another run-in with Jono. He was still there, of course, watching me from one side of the room or the other. Sometimes had a grin and would make a gun with his finger and go bang bang bang silently across the room. I did however come face to face with him again that night as I went to the toilet. It was occupied and I stood waiting by the door. I heard the toilet flush then the door opened. It was Jono. He looked me up and down then put his arm across the door frame. Sorry, only for people who wear party hats. He looked defiant, psychotic and very dangerous. Then he laughed and removed his arm.

A few moments after I had entered the toilet, there was a massive bashing sound on the door. The door shook on its hinges. Once, twice, then one final time, which knocked the door handle off completely. Then John O's screaming at me from outside in the hall. Wear the hat! It's a party. Wear it. Then there was a weird silence. The only sound was the muffled music coming from the living room. Everyone was silent. It stayed like that for a few minutes, maybe more than I exited. Everyone seemed to be acting normally, and what's more, there was no Jonna to be found. One guest, I didn't know their name, asked me if I heard the guy banging his head against

the door. I wasn't going to stick around to see if he was still there. I grabbed my wife and made an excuse to leave and we got out of there, but it didn't end. The next day, around 3 am it was, there were three or four sharp knocks on my front door. They definitely weren't from somebody's hand. It sounded more like a hammer or something heavy. I opened the door very slowly and found no one there. That's when I noticed it.

Nailed to my front door with a ten penny nail through it was the purple hat I had pulled from the bonbon. We cut our holiday short and flew home the next day. It was November 2017. This was a time in my life when I severely struggled with alcoholism and drug addiction, as many in the town I lived do, so please judge my decisions knowing that. Me and my friend were skint most of the time, but used to frequent a pub. Now this particular pub had a bad reputation but had recently been taken over by a new landlord who had began to turn it around.

They had an okay crowd, the usual for the type of working area. The Imperial. On this particular evening I had come into about 50 pounds in cash so I called my mate and before long we were hitting the town. We started in this particular pub we will call the Imperial. I rocked up to the bar and ordered two drinks for me and my friend. As I did I noticed a very scruffy looking woman dressed in disheveled clothing. Naturally I ignored it and sat down. About an hour went by before my pal noticed the scruffy looking middle-aged woman was lurking about three meters behind us just staring. This gave us the fear and we decided to go out and smoke a cigarette. We headed outside, donned our hats and coats and smoked two cigarettes each before returning to see the woman sat at our table. This wasn't a problem for us. We could just get

another table but as we walked over she stood up and returned to her original position so we took her old table back. Upon sitting down I see the woman begin to approach the table. She stands behind him and starts touching his shoulder. He turns around and asks, what are you doing? She swiftly replies in a very high-pitched voice, can I sit here please? This was when I realized that my friend had completely misheard the question. He believed she said, can I have a ciggy? So he replied, yeah sure. She dropped herself down in the seat next to her. It was really awkward in this new form threesome.

What made it particularly worse is that she just maintained the same overbearing smile, not moving at all. It was with all of this that I had presumed she may be mentally challenged, perhaps. My cousins have similar issues, so I decided to be nice and involve her for a little while. After all, she seemed harmless. This was a mistake. After trying to involve her in the conversation with no luck, I signaled for a friend to go for a cigarette. She stayed at the table. Outside, me and my friend talked about how awkward it was and how we wanted to leave

and decided to leave the back way without her seeing us. It was at this moment I realized I had left my phone on the table with her. I walked over to the table and as she saw me coming she snatched my phone up. Playing dumb I said, hey thanks for your company tonight but I gotta go. You haven't seen my phone have have you? After saying this, her face changed and the mood took a dark turn. I could feel something was brewing, although her face was still ecstatically smiling. Why are you leaving? There's no reason to. She said while making the creepiest eye contact I've ever seen in my whole life.

You can have it for a kiss, she said as she held my phone up. I thought fast and snatched it out of her hand before storming off fast out the door and meeting my friend outside. I was shook and told him to walk fast. Road to the Brunswick. The road outside the Imperial is long and straight and you can basically see from one end to the other. We were walking fast for a while before slowing down and then stopping to light a cigarette. Whilst we were stopped we noticed the silhouette of what appeared to be this woman coming towards us at some pace. Frightened we turned a corner and took the back streets and alleys, turning at every opportunity we could. There was no chance she could have followed us and we even, turning at every opportunity we could. There was no chance

she could have followed us, and we even waited to see if she was coming. After ten minutes we started walking to a smaller pub called the Brunswick. We walked and talked about the strangeness of her, but really forgot about it pretty fast. The Brunswick. Upon arriving there, we scanned the room for her just in case and headed to the bar area, got more drinks and stayed at the bar. An hour passed and we were both quite drunk, so we decided to leave. This, and I cannot stress enough, was a huge mistake. We walked outside and around the corner when, perhaps by coincidence, we bumped into her again.

She began screaming things about how I should love her, and how she had done so much for me. Completely taken by surprise and shock, I watched her run towards me. My friend ran back and watched in horror as she grabbed me and began licking and spitting on my face while she bear-hugged me. I managed to slip out of her grips and sprinted off onto the main road. Needless to say,

I got very drunk that night to make up for it. So I live in the Phoenix metro area. I had just gotten off of work at 9.30pm. I work at a marketing job that requires me to stay semi-late. However, they've been letting me out a little early so I could catch the bus home and save money from taking an Uber. Due to my financial situation, I'm unable to drive my car since it's broken down. I've been having to ride the bus this past month.

Now anyways, there's two buses I have to take to get home. One going down the road a few miles from where I work, the second one that takes me a few miles, stopping a couple of blocks away from my apartment. I board the first bus at around 10 10 p.m. and ride with no incident. I exited the first bus and needed to cross a busy street to get to the next bus stop. I noticed my second bus was already at the stop however I couldn't cross the street because the cars had a green light and I couldn't cross yet and since there were so many cars I couldn't just book it across the street. By the time the crosswalk signaled me to go the bus had already

gone. Next one wasn't coming for another half hour. I'm kind of frustrated so I just crossed the street, sat down on the bench at the stop and watched videos with my earbuds in. It was 10.20pm at this point. The next bus doesn't arrive until 10.50pm. It's important to note that I'm a 19 year old girl so I'm already anxious about being out late at night in the cold. I look up and notice four men walking in my direction. I try to look down at my phone and pay no mind. One sat from the bench across from me, another guy sat next to me, the other two men were standing. The man across from me had a blue jacket and hat. He tells me I'm beautiful, asking for personal info, normal banter from guys. I just politely smile and continue looking at my phone. This guy didn't seem to be happy about it

and started calling me all sorts of names, like ugly, crack expletive, etc. I couldn't help but laugh since this guy was getting butturt because I had rejected his advances. At this point his friends were standing up in my defense, saying he shouldn't talk to a woman that way, I did nothing to provoke him, etc. Blue Jacket Guy starts getting more hostile in his tone and my instincts tell me to quietly pull out my pepper spray just in case things escalated. Good thing I did because now Blue Jack jacket guy gets up and starts pacing around, getting too close for comfort. So his friends stand around forming a shield against me. It felt like an eternity before the bus finally showed up. I told the men to board first and said

I need to speak to the driver first. All of them board and I tell the driver not to let the blue jacket guy ride the bus. I explain the situation not to let the blue jacket guy ride the bus. I explain the situation. Even his friends and other passengers on the bus told the driver not to let him on board. The driver then asked which street the blue jacket guy was getting off at. He said Sunset Drive. Then the driver asked me which street I was getting off on. Not wanting to alert the guy where I was getting off, I didn't name the street but did said I was getting off way past Sunset Drive. The driver then got back to his seat and started driving. Blue jacket guy tried to sit next to me but one of his friends sat down next to me first while the other two sat across from me. Blue jacket guy sat as close to me as he could, five seats down. His friends said that they would protect me, beat him up if

he escalates things. There were some exchanges back and forth between these guys and Blue Jacket Guy was too worried to listen. By the time we made it to Sunset Drive, his friends exited the bus, but the Blue Jacket Guy stayed on. I told the driver he was supposed to get off here, but was now refusing. His friends were begging him was supposed to get off here but was now refusing. His friends were begging him to get off the bus but he kept refusing. He kept trying to convince the driver that he said the wrong street name but the driver wasn't buying it. Blue Jackaguy starts walking towards me. I had my pepper spray clutched in my hand preparing for the worst. I'm now on my phone with my boyfriend, crying and telling him to meet at my stop. Driver guy gets up and tells blue jacket guy he needs to exit the bus or else the

local police would be called. At this point, blue jacket guy finally gives up and exits the bus. As the bus was pulling away, blue jacket guy hits my window, yelling obscenities at me. I did eventually meet my boyfriend at the stop and he safely walked me home. And now I'm sitting on the couch, typing this out, and self-medicating with a wax pen. Everyone's got a pro. Need tires? I've got a pro. Car making a weird sound? I've got a pro. So who's that pro? The pros at Tread Experts. From tires to auto repair, Tread Experts is always there, helping you with Kumo tires you can trust.

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pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. We wanted to have a good time together, my girlfriend and I. You see, she's a nurse and has to work the night shift. The hospital she works at requires about five years of experience before you can even think of working on day shift. This wouldn't be such a problem but I work as a marketer. I have a typical 9-5 in an office and it's really tough finding time for each other. Our sleep schedules are chaotic to say the least.

So when Valentine's day rolled around on a day and night that we were both working, we got really frustrated. It's really hard to explain how you feel like you're being cheated out of time. Like there isn't going to be a moment you can sit down and truly enjoy your relationship for what it is. But we decided that we weren't going to let our lame schedules get the best of us. We decided that we'd visit a city for a weekend away. Valentine's Day fell on a Thursday but we figured having a little trip that weekend would be the next best thing, maybe even better. She's been really adamant about visiting Oak Ridge in Tennessee. Her grandfather worked there back in the day and it's always been of interest to her.

She's always telling me these facts about how creepy it is and how she just has to go one day. It's roughly an 8 hour drive from where we live so we made a deal about driving. I was going to drive the entire way there and she was going to drive while we were actually in the city. She totally got the good deal of the bargain but that's just what you do when you care for your girlfriend. But something strange happened, something that has tainted my memory ever since that time. When I think back and remember that weekend away I'm not thinking about us cuddling up on the couch or any of the fun places we got to visit there either. We got there Friday night. She mostly slept in

the car but still felt really tired. She told me she'd be able to sleep that night we got there and be awake and normal for the next day. So that's just what we did. And it was a really great day. We got to visit a museum and learn about the Manhattan Project. Even got to visit the plant where her grandfather used to work. At least we're pretty sure. He's deceased now, but the tour guide said this was where the majority of the work on the bombs were done. And well, he worked on them, I guess. It was crazy. Anyway, the day was great, but it didn't last very long.

By the time it was dark dark we were out of ideas for things to do and quite frankly out of energy. We decided to visit our favorite fast food joint, Wendy's. Don't judge us. And she was driving as we made our way there. It was only a 10 to 15 minute drive. She had her music on and I was just kind of looking out the window. At one point a blue Mustang was beside her car. We were stopped at a red light and I looked out the window and peered into theirs. I saw a very old man. He looked unhappy, miserable even. His skin looked unnaturally pale.

I'm not sure when he started but he was staring at me. It wasn't until I looked into the car that I noticed it either. I'm not sure when he started but he was staring at me. It wasn't until I looked into the car that I noticed it either. Not gonna lie, it kinda freaked me out. We made eye contact for about 5 seconds and then for the briefest of moments he smiled. But it was so fast, it must have been a split second that his mouth went into a smile and then back into a frown. It was the strangest thing I've ever seen. I looked over at my girlfriend and she hadn't noticed at all.

She was jamming out to Bohemian Rhapsody. The light turned green and we were in motion again. I didn't take my eyes off of that car for the rest of that ride. At least until they turned. That's not the craziest part, you see it gets even weirder. We were planning on leaving Monday morning and on Sunday night we went out to eat but this time to an actual restaurant. We weren't feeling fast food again. We looked on Google and found a local restaurant that had pretty decent reviews. I had my favorite food, deep fried chicken,

so off we went. I had completely forgotten about that strange man I saw in that car, but about halfway through my meal I noticed him again. This time he was in the restaurant. He was staring at me. I know he was. And when I noticed, he did that exact same facial movement, just the way I remembered. He went from a miserable frown in a split second, he was smiling only for his face to be frowning again in just the next instant. I'm not sure my reaction was warranted. He hadn't actually done anything wrong to me and I was enjoying a nice meal with my girlfriend which is why it was so strange for my fight or flight to kick in and I went up and confronted him. He was sitting in a booth alone. I asked him why he was staring at us like that. To my absolute surprise he never said

a word. Just sat there and frowned at me. I asked him what his problem was before my girlfriend told me it was time we head home. She knows I can get a little worked up and wanted to avoid a confrontation. It's not illegal to look at people, she said. Still though, it was something about that man that made me feel so strange. So watched. Well, Monday morning came. We were about an hour into the car ride home and she was asleep again. And you guessed it. You totally guessed it. I saw this freaky old man again. But this time it was way worse. For starters, he was driving a totally different car. I don't know what this guy's life is like, but I can just imagine what you have to do to be able to afford a Mustang and still have

enough money to have a second car. And to make matters even worse, he had been in the left lane as he was going to pass me, but he didn't. He just paced me for about a mile. I noticed that there was a car next to me and it wasn't until I looked over to flip the bird that I recognized him. It was a creepy old man, but he wasn't frowning anymore. That smile that he'd only been able to muster for a split second was now permanently stained on his aged face. It was the most horrifying thing I've ever seen in my life. Suddenly, he turns his head forward and aggressively veers his car in my direction. Reflexively, I slam the brakes and swerve off to the side of the road. My wife is immediately shaken awake and all we can see is his vehicle speeding off in the distance through a cloud of

dirt. My heart was racing like crazy and by the time I could process my girlfriend screaming, asking what's going on, I started to feel myself choke up. We discussed whether we should waste our time calling the police but I was so scared that the best course of action seemed to get out of that godforsaken town as fast as possible. The rest of the ride home happened without incident and I haven't seen him since. Needless to say that was the least romantic and most insane Valentine's Day ever. I'm not gonna lie to you, I'm a pretty strange guy. I've always been a loner and I've always hated people for as long as I can remember. Which is why it's ironic that the scariest experiences of my life is associated with Valentine's Day.

I was working after I graduated high school. I didn't want to go to college as I was really poor and I didn't even know what I would want to do if I did go. My plan was to lay low for a little while and figure things out, maybe save up a little money. The gas station I worked at was the kind of place that grossed out visiting truckers. I remember this one time when a trucker stopped in. He saw me looking at my phone while I was waiting for him to get ready to pay for his beef jerky. He gave me a judgmental look and said I should take some responsibility for how bad the place looked. I didn't have the energy to explain that I wasn't the owner so I just rang him out and asked if that was all he was going to order. He paid and left without another word.

So yeah, it was one of those kinds of places. Anyway, it was Valentine's Day a couple of years back. I had volunteered to work the night shift because I made a couple of dollars more on the hour, which was always nice. Plus, it's normally pretty slow and there isn't much to do. I normally amuse myself by looking at memes on reddit. But I remember on this particular night the entire mood was different. I don't know what it was but I had an ominous foreboding feeling in my heart that night. And I'm not normally the kind of person who buys into the whole paranormal thing. I must have gotten that feeling around 12am.

I tried to brush it off as best I could, but I felt oddly on edge. The strangest thing was that I had worked plenty of night shifts before. I never had a feeling like this. I was so busy trying to calm myself down and fighting my own fear that I didn't even notice him. A man had come into the gas station. Must have been about 1.15am or so. I remember his face so vividly, so aged. His eyes were extremely off-putting.

If you gazed into them for long enough, you would inevitably find yourself wondering about the guy's mental state. Suffice to say, he was a creepy man. He seemed to be in a rush. I remember noticing how swiftly he moved through the aisles and he instinctually knew exactly what he needed. Didn't have to stop and think even once. Most people do. He came up to the register looking to buy a small gardening shovel, duct tape, and a rope. I remember looking down at the items and immediately wondering if this guy was some sort of serial killer or something. That was the exact moment I got out of my own head.

I stuttered when I asked him if he wanted anything else. He didn't say a word, just pointed, directly at the cigarettes behind my head. I placed a pack of marble lights on the counter and looked back at the man. He was holding up his hand with two fingers. It took me a second to figure out that he had wanted another pack of cigarettes. I rang everything up. I could hear his breathing increasing. It was as if he was annoyed that I wasn't rushing.

I tried breaking the tension by making a joke. You've got a gardening day tonight, do you? His facial expression didn't change at all. He made direct eye contact with me and simply shook his head up and down. I told him that his total would be $34. He slapped down two 20s on the table, grabbed his items without a bag, and darted out of the gas station. I went outside to watch him leave. I know I'm not supposed to do that, but I couldn't help myself. I was so curious by this point. What was he buying those things for? Did I seriously just meet an actual serial killer?

All of the wondering thoughts left my head immediately when I saw him slam on the brakes. He turned his truck around and began speeding back to the gas station. My body went into full panic mode. I ran back inside, closed the doors, locked them, put the close sign up, and I actually called the police. He pulled up outside of the gas station and put his truck in park. My heart was pounding in my chest. I screamed at the dispatch the address and then put the phone down on the counter. I mentally made peace with the fact that I might actually die, and I hoped that at least someone could hear me dying. I heard him start beating on the door trying to get in.

The only weapon I had available was one of those shovels from the random utility aisles. I darted across the gas station and grabbed one, bracing myself. I screamed at him that the police were coming and he had no chance. I didn't believe the words as they left my mouth. The doors were made of some kind of fiber or plastic material. I think they were even bulletproof so I knew I was safe for at least a little while. That was when he stopped pounding on the door. I thought he was going to drive his truck into the gas station to get inside but thankfully the thought never struck his mind. He did however break one of the windows and throw a lit match inside. After that he drove off into the night. I quickly put the fire out and the police got there about 20 minutes after everything happened. One of the cops tried making a joke

about this guy's attempt to burn the place down and I was too dazed to hear it. I just remember the guy pity laughed at his own joke before walking back to his police car. I explained to them the entire situation from beginning to end. I still have no clue why he suddenly decided that he just wanted to hurt me. Perhaps he wanted one less potential witness. Maybe he was just a random psychopath. Maybe it was because he saw me peering back at him and that triggered him. And as dramatic as this experience may have been, I still get really anxious thinking about the items that he had purchased. I still wonder sometimes if he had purchased those things to torture someone he had kidnapped, because he was definitely capable.

Even if I ever get a girlfriend at some point in the future, Valentine's Day will never be the same. This is probably the weirdest experience that has ever happened to me. One that has caused me a lot of trauma and seriously has made it difficult to ever date like a normal person ever again. Let me give you some background. I'm a 23 year old woman. I live in a small town in rural Mississippi. I know everyone in the town and they all know me. I never quite fit in with a small town scene. It wasn't that I was against it or anything but there just wasn't anyone I

really clicked with. I had lots of friends but I was still completely alone for as long as I can remember. A couple of years ago I started dating a guy who I met on Tinder. He was from a couple of towns over and wasn't the best looking guy in the world but I don't let something like that stop me. I just wanted to know if he was nice and compatible with me. So we went out on a couple of dates. Didn't go horribly. He was a perfect gentleman and every time he never pressured me into doing anything that I didn't feel comfortable with, which I really appreciated. So after about three weeks of casual dates here and there,

we made the decision that we really had something here. We both deleted our Tinder accounts together and started spending more time with each other. Honestly, I thought we had a real chance of having a lasting relationship. But as the time went by, I noticed that he was weird. And not the, I watch conspiracy theory documentaries on Netflix kind of weird. I mean, I saw some real signs of various mental illnesses. Some of them included narcissistic personality disorder, bipolar disorder, with some extreme episodes of anxiety and depression. And he would eventually go insane over some of these things that stressed him out. So one of the times he got into one of

those episodes was when his uncle was going to visit. His parents asked him to sleep on the couch so his uncle could sleep in his bed, and he had a literal mental breakdown. I remember me and him texting back and forth and he was asking me if it was a good idea to physically attack him or start a fight. A few more incidents like that and I knew that I had to end this relationship quick. As much as I want to help people I really don't want to sacrifice my own well-being for the sake of helping anyone else. It was probably three or four weeks into our relationship that I made the decision. I asked him if he wanted to get some coffee and he agreed. We broke up and he actually took it rather well which surprised me. I wasn't expecting him to have some kind of breakdown and while he

did look sad, he didn't act inappropriately towards me at all. I hit a solid frown on his face and then he walked away. I felt bad for doing it but that was the decision that I made. Now we get into the weird part. In the couple of weeks that we've been dating he had never been to my house and had no idea where I lived. That's going to be important to remember a little later on. We probably broke up around April or so it seems to be somewhere in that time frame at least, so you can understand the terror that washed over me when I saw his car parked in my driveway almost a year later, on Valentine's Day. It had been so long since I had last seen him, I didn't even recognize his car at first. You can bet your rear end that I had my pistol with me ready to protect myself,

especially because my parents weren't home. Remember, I live in rural Mississippi. People don't just randomly show up at your house who live two towns away. It just doesn't happen like that. He got out of his car holding flowers. I couldn't believe myself. What the heck is wrong with this guy, I thought. I walked up to him, making sure to keep my pistol out of sight. I didn't want to alarm him,

but I was ready to use it if he had bad intentions. His face looked strange. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He also looked like he was really struggling and uncomfortable. I asked him what he was doing here after we just kind of looked at each other for a minute and then he said it. Will you be my valentine? The moment he began to speak I knew he was intoxicated and it honestly frightened me. I had heard too many horror stories that start out exactly this way. I pulled my gun out and pointed at him. I screamed no, get away from my home and never come back.

He genuinely seemed startled at the sight of the gun. Then he got going to his car and drove away. But as he ran, I noticed that he dropped something metal in the hurry. It must have just barely nudged out of his pocket. After he sped off, I waited a few minutes just to make sure he was gone. Then I walked over towards the object that he dropped on the floor. I couldn't make it out at first because of the darkness. I picked it up and put it under my phone light.

I was mortified. It was a pair of metal handcuffs. I picked it up and put it under my phone light. I was mortified. It was a pair of metal handcuffs. Just imagine how much he must have thought about me. That he waited all this time, building up the nerve to just randomly show up at my house with a pair of freaking handcuffs, ready to do God knows what to me. It was honestly quite horrifying. I called the police and reported him. They couldn't really do anything, seeing as he technically didn't commit a crime,

so I made sure to tell my family and friends to watch out for him if they happened to see his vehicle around. I just imagined how different my life would be if I hadn't been armed that night. I was all alone and my parents wouldn't have been home for hours. There was a solid chance of him kidnapping me and becoming someone you see on a true crime documentary. This has been a big reminder for me and let it be a lesson for anyone listening right now. If you're defenseless and alone in the middle of nowhere, make sure that you have some way of protecting yourself, because I'm sure that I'm not the only girl in the flowers, the last minute bookings, and so on. Instead, decided that we'd

make a whole week out of it. We thought if we could spread the romance over a period of seven days, it wouldn't be as as wearing and we both wouldn't feel that stress every couple feels in the weeks leading up to it. So living in the UK we decided that it wouldn't be too hard to get to Lake Geneva, find a cabin we could rent for the week, remote with perhaps a little restaurant a little drive away and settle down. My husband spent some of his childhood there and this gave him an opportunity to stop in on some of his old friends and family whilst we were there. It sounded like the perfect trip. We booked time off of work, scrolled some websites and ended up finding this lovely semi-resort.

It was essentially a collection of cabins or lodges made for couples. They were all fairly far apart from each other but were connected by small gravel paths to a central area which had a restaurant owned by a fairly famous chef, a lodge that acted as reception and a spa. There were some facilities dotted around but all with appropriate architecture so even though it was pretty much a resort, it would never feel like it. Sure, it was a little expensive, but we saw it as an opportunity to combine a holiday and expensive Valentine's dinner. In a weird way, we thought we were saving money.

The staff there were all incredibly polite when we arrived. They knew our names instantly from our online booking and made sure to whisk our bags away almost instantly. Whilst they went through the process of booking us in, they gave us each a complimentary cocktail and sat us by this vast glass window that overlooked the lake. It was unbelievably stunning and so quiet. That was what we appreciated the most, I think. A break from city life, somewhere where we wouldn't have to worry about the crowded bus or getting a cab after one too many glasses of wine. We were coming to the end of our cocktails when a man came and sat down next to us. He introduced himself as Luca

and had one of those funny European accents where you can't quite place it. The English accent was almost perfect but a couple of clipped vowels and funny consonants meant you could instantly tell he wasn't actually, well, English. He seemed friendly enough. Tall, athletic, wearing white tennis clothes. He asked us where we were from, and we said the UK, and we chatted for a little while about that. I do remember him saying that I looked just like his wife and that we should meet her. I remember that because I kept looking out for my doppelganger whenever we'd take walks around the resort trying to see if I could spy curly blonde hair. We said that we were sure we'd catch him either in the restaurant or perhaps

the spa and were intrigued to meet his wife. He seemed a little odd in his own way. His eye contact was a little too intense and he spoke a little too loudly but being British we thought that maybe this was just a cultural difference. Unfortunately February isn't the best time for a trip to a resort in Switzerland. The weather there can be pretty up and down and for a lot of our time there we were pretty much rained out of doing anything outside. But we were a married couple and it wasn't hard to find things to do around Valentine's Day that required being inside. Lucas' cabin must have been close to ours because we'd see him fairly often,

on our walk to breakfast, passing through when we were having lunch, that sort of thing. I decided pretty quickly that I didn't like him. I decided that it wasn't a cultural difference, that he was actually quite rude and would always try to steer the conversation back to himself whenever we'd have a quick chat. He'd make a point of humble bragging about whatever he was off to do and it began to make me angry. I was, at the end of the day, trying to have a week with my husband and it was kind of ruining it. My husband snores, loud, and so quite often in the middle of the night I'll get up and move to the sofa. It's sort of become a little ritual and I don't mind really doing it. I can

usually fall back asleep pretty quickly if not instantly. Earplugs only go so far when you can genuinely feel the guy vibrating as he snores, trust me. So the second night we're there I get up and move to the couch in the front which faces a huge glass panel overlooking the lake. I have to turn on a lamp to find my way around, not knowing the layout of the room off by heart like I do at home, and I see the window. The view is stunning, and even at night if you sit and watch for a while and let your eyes adjust to the dark, you can make out lights

across the water and begin to see the scenery. I was watching the view like this when I spotted something. It's funny how you can make out shapes in the dark, but I'd gotten used to the way the branches of the trees moved in the slight wind, which was why I noticed something so still. Still and in the shape of shoulders and a head. It was down the path a little way, the path that led into the resort, and it just stood there, watching something. I became very aware at that point of the lamp that was going on, and the fact that although this figure was just a dark shape to me, it could see right in and see me. I began to feel really, really scared. I didn't want to panic, but I started by saying my husband's name very quietly, then a little louder, then louder until I could

hear the slight panic in my voice. The figure didn't move. It must have been about a hundred feet away because I couldn't make out any features, just a shape. I called again and my husband came out of his room. He asked what was wrong and when I tried to show him what I'd seen, the figure was gone. I guess it had seen someone else come into the house and had decided to leave. I explained what I'd seen and although my husband was supportive, he said at that distance, at night, it could have been anything. Could have just been a member of staff doing a night time check or a security guard. Whatever it was, despite his snoring, I slept in his room for the rest of the night.

The next day we had breakfast as usual. Luca came past and chatted to us for a little while. I didn't say anything. I began to become a little convinced that it had been Luca who had been watching me that night. I hated the way he talked about his wife whilst looking at me, as if just because we looked the same we were somehow connected. Although there was still a little anxiety from last night, I managed to enjoy most of the day. That night we slept in the same bed and I made sure to choose the side closest to the wall. Then it was Valentine's Day. Since our plan was to have the whole week to do it we took it easy having a late brunch at the restaurant. Just when I thought that

maybe Luca had left he came past. I thought it was strange that he wasn't with his wife but he said something about her going on ahead to get a good court for tennis. We said we were considering an afternoon game and I remember him seeming a little concerned. He told us that they were all booked up and that he thought that maybe we'd have better luck booking a day or two in advance. We were a little disappointed but hey, it allowed us to have a bloody merry after brunch, so we weren't complaining. That night we got drunk after dinner, like, really drunk.

I think we got a little carried away on their two-for-one Valentine's cocktails because we were giggling like schoolchildren. We chatted to a few of the other couples we'd met, ate some amazing food, watched the rain on the lake. Thankfully, Luca was nowhere to be seen. We stumbled back to our cabin, sharing an umbrella lent to us by the staff, and after doing what couples would do on Valentine's Day, my husband fell asleep. I lay in bed a while, had a couple of glasses of water from the sink to try and prevent the

hangover I knew was coming. After I stopped the tap running, I thought I heard the drain stutter for a second. I listened a little closer. No, it wasn't a stutter. It was a noise like knocking, only a little more frantic. In triplets, dum-dum-dum. I listened again, the same noise, louder. Then I realized what it was. Someone was trying to lock on the window. They were trying to see if it was locked. As I stood there trying to make as little noise as possible as I moved across the room to wake my husband, I heard footsteps moving around the cabin,

and then the same noise, but louder. The same person was trying the door now, but they were more determined, really pushing and pulling. I didn't want to make a noise, but I shook my husband as violently as I could to wake him up, and whispered what I thought was happening. He was dead to the world world and as I tried to wake

him with a hushed voice, I could hear whatever it was trying the door a few last times, but harder. Finally he woke up and saw the panic in my eyes. He got straight to it, turned on every light in the cabin and grabbed a broom as he made his way to the front door. There was nothing. No one. I was sure, though, and he could tell from how I was acting that I was serious. We called the resort's security, who came over and were extremely polite, and even the manager of the place came down to assure us that it was all fine. They said they'd look into it, that sometimes the wind made noises like that, and were even so kind as to make sure a security member sat outside our cabin for the rest of the night.

There were no signs that anyone had been around, and so they said if we were sure we wanted to report something, they'd happily come with us in the morning. As we were talking the next morning, I felt like I wanted to mention Luca, but didn't want to seem paranoid. But I'd barely slept and my mouth seemed to run on its own. I mentioned that Luca had always acted strange to us and that I thought his cabin might have been near ours. They told me that whilst it wasn't their policy to report on guests, they could tell me that Luca's cabin was actually fairly far away from ours. His was in the singles area, for people on retreats, writers, artists, etc. And that the couple's area was the other side of the resort. I mentioned that his wife must have been staying

nearest then, or something like that, and I remember the woman behind the desk looking puzzled. She said Luca came alone, left after lunch on Valentine's Day, and that there had been no woman with him at any point during his stay. It'd come alone and left alone. They'd have known any visitors have to at least sign in at reception. When I mentioned looking into this further, I was really rattled by the whole thing. They said although they would flag it with local police, there wasn't much they could do. Luca wasn't a Swiss national, and they couldn't follow him just because a guest thought that he might have been stalking them or something of the sort. They asked if I'd even seen Luca during either of the encounters I'd had, and sadly, I had to say no.

When they heard that, they shared a look that I could instantly tell meant they didn't quite believe me. The resort offered all sorts of compensations, a free dinner the next night, and even offered me a discount on a week's stay another time. Despite the offer, I don't think we'll be going back anytime soon. So this happened about a year ago. I know it because it was around Valentine's Day and I'd spend the week leading up to it just dreading it, stalking my ex on Instagram and generally just felt pretty terrible about myself. We'd split up a few months earlier and she kept the flat we'd lived in, seeing as she did most of the work finding it. Her friend moved in and I moved out. It was a simple but painful arrangement. I ended up finding a flat for myself way out, on pretty much the

outskirts of the city. I don't know if you've ever been to London, but flat prices are stupidly high, and if you want anywhere that's more than just a bed and a toilet, you have to abandon any hope of living remotely central. So the Valentine's Day season came around, and one weekend I was feeling fairly sorry for myself, working my way through a bottle of Prosecco I should have really been sharing when I made the decision. I changed the radius on all my dating apps to be as small as possible, and tried to see if I could get a Valentine's date lined up. Half the time you matched with someone and they'd reveal that they were on the other side of London to you, and your attempt to organize a drink would fall through. It's too far, or I don't have time tonight, maybe next week were phrases you'd hear all the time.

So, I'm not the most attractive guy. I think I'm honest enough with myself to say that, and I have a pretty good gauge of when someone I've matched with seems too hot to be real. Usually my hunches confirm when they send me a message advertising some Russian dating site in the first minute. Anyway, I meet Becca, who seems lovely and very much in my league and who lives actually not too far from me. We agree to go for a drink at the Crown the day before Valentine's Day so as not to have the awkward expectation of anything extra romantic which is pretty much the local for anyone who lives near my overground stop and I'm pretty excited to be honest. She seems pretty funny, maybe not wife material but we get along and for a while the thought of my ex off on her own valentine's day seems a lot less unpleasant. So date night comes and I have my usual beer or two before for a bit

of dutch courage and head off to the crown. I send her a message to let her know that I'm on the way and she says cool she's almost there. It's a little dark out and there's a thin mist of rain but I shrug it off. It is London after all. The walk to the pub doesn't usually take too long. You have to navigate loads of little back streets that ends up slowing you down a whole bunch and I spend a little extra time to avoid some alleyways just because I've heard stories about people getting mugged around here. But I arrive to the crowd only a bit late and send her a message apologizing as I get in. She replies pretty quickly, instantly almost. Shoot, she says, didn't get a chance to message you. There's a bunch of guys in there for someone's

birthday and they're being really rowdy, making me a little uncomfortable. I've nipped over to a restaurant down the road to see if they might have space for us. I mean, she's not wrong. There are a bunch of guys in here being loud and obnoxious and I guess if you were a small woman it would make you pretty uncomfortable. Not only that, but a group are smoking outside and jeering and I could see how you wouldn't want to hang around outside for long. She sends me the restaurant's name and tells me to hurry. They'll save a table for us if I'm quick. This is where I get a little concerned. We never agreed to dinner. Not only that, but when I put in Google Maps, the location gives me two routes. One is pretty quick, and the other adds an extra ten minutes onto your walk time,

easy. The only issue is, the shorter route goes right through this old estate that's semi-abandoned. I say semi because although I'm sure people live there, I'm not sure who, and half the buildings are boarded up. I take one look at it and decide that there's no way I'm going through there. There are barely any streetlights if any and I can barely make out much more than a few dark shapes. I decide to take the longer way around and apologize to her but let her know that I'll be a little later. She replies instantly again and tells me that I need to come now and that I should just be as quick as possible. I don't like her tone and tell her there's no way I'm walking through the old estate at night.

Now I'm beginning to feel really uncomfortable and am aware of how alone I am on this route. Whilst it passes by several houses and shops there's no one actually on the street itself. There aren't many people out on the night before Valentine's Day and come to think of it I've got no idea why the restaurant would be so full in the first place. I get that funny feeling in my stomach where you know something's wrong but can't quite put your finger on it and for some reason I walk in the middle of the road for the last stretch. I think maybe I felt a little safer there, or at least in my head I think I'd be able to see anyone who came towards me.

Thankfully no one did. I did manage to freak myself out a little, catching my reflection in shop fronts and car windows, and have to make a conscious effort to not look at them because I know I'll only freak myself out more. I'd have turned right around but I realized that I was actually closer to the restaurant than the original pub and at this point I just wanted to see another friendly human face. I sped up my walking slightly, made sure to text a couple of friends just to be safe. All this time I'm walking she's messaging me telling me just to hurry up and that the shortcut's fine, she literally just took it. But as soon as I mention I'm walking, she's messaging me telling me just to hurry up and that the shortcut's fine.

She literally just took it. But as soon as I mention I'm almost at the restaurant, she stops replying. Just like that. One moment she's telling me to hurry and the next, as soon as it's clear I'm not going to use the shortcut at all, she's gone. Well, they're gone, I suppose. No way of knowing who it was. I get inside and like I suspected, the place is fairly empty. It's definitely not booked out, and when I ask if the waiter's seen any woman like Becca asking about a table, he shakes his head. Not tonight, he tells me. Only a couple of families and an older couple.

I think about texting whoever was claiming to be Becca, but even opening the conversation gives me the creeps. The idea that there's a couple of days worth of chatting there, of whomever was on the other end pretending for whatever reason to be a normal person, gives me the chills. It's strangely weirder to think of someone that creepy pretending to be normal in a weird way. I think about walking back using the road but I realize looking out the window of the restaurant that whoever was pretending to be Becca knows my exact location. They'll know I arrived and found out they were lying. I think about the fact that they might be watching me from somewhere, my silhouette in the window, and I ask if I can have a table whilst I order an Uber home. Even during the ride home I hate the idea of my face near the window and I try to lean into the middle seat.

I get the driver to drop me as close as possible to my house and my heart races the whole walk home. I never told them my address exactly, but the idea that they know the area I live in is enough to make me start looking at flats on the other side of the city. I think, as soon as I can, I'm going to move. It all started on the 7th of February. The small independent coffee shop I was working at had decided to throw up a few decorations for Valentine's Day. So myself and a few colleagues had spent pretty much our entire shift putting up pink and red bunting, writing romantic quotations around the edges of our blackboard menu, and other romantically themed stuff. It was a fun way to spend a shift, but as I clocked out and began the short walk back to my flat, I began to feel a

slight pang of loneliness, knowing I'd be single and alone on the day itself. I consider Tinder or Bumble to try and bag myself a date, but the chances of securing myself a boy that I actually genuinely liked over the next seven days was slim to none, so I resigned myself to another Valentine's on my own. But when I got home to find a pink envelope in my mailbox, I must admit that it brought a little smile to my face. A secret admirer, like something right out of a cheap romance paperback, might not be every girl's cup of tea. But to be honest, it really cheered me up, even if it was from a friend or the nice lady that lived on the ground floor flat. Only when I open the thing up, it just says, seven days to go. No romantic message, no kisses or hearts, just those three words scrawled hastily onto the paper inside.

It's then I realized there's nothing on the envelope or the paper it contained that confirmed it was actually addressed to me. No name, no address, nothing. I started to feel a tad silly, like what if it wasn't meant for me at all? What if someone had sent their little Valentine's card to the wrong person? I told myself I was just being silly, but kept the envelope and card as I walked upstairs to my flat and got on with my evening. I honestly think I'd forgotten the whole thing by the next morning when I got up and set off to work again. But when I got home, there was a stark reminder that this was no mistake. Arriving back at my flat, I checked my mail to find yet another pink envelope inside. Not only that, but a small brown paper package was stuffed inside too.

Again, I have to admit to being kind of excited about the whole thing. There definitely hadn't been a mistake of address or anything. I mean, the person must have had to put all that stuff in there themselves. Maybe I really did have a secret admirer, and that Valentine's was about to become something out of a fairy tale. But as soon as I opened the package, I knew something wasn't quite right. Inside was a small brown teddy bear. Only it wasn't newly bought, nor had it been looked after very well in what was obviously a long and grubby existence. To be frank, it was filthy. The thing looked like it hadn't been washed in years, decades even. The fur was all grimy and matted together and one of its glasses was missing, probably having been pulled

out by a child some years before. The note inside the envelope was pretty much the same as the last one, only this time it read, six days to go. That's about the time that I realized that whoever was sending these wasn't exactly all there, and what had previously been a kind of giddy excitement turned into nervous anticipation, and the more I let my mind dwell on it, the more and more frightened I became. This wasn't going to be some dream romance, in fact, it was more likely to be the polar opposite. I told a friend in work about the whole thing and they seemed to take it much more seriously than I had. They told me I obviously had a stalker, that even if this person was doing this stuff out of affection, it was still crossing a number of personal boundaries and I should consider contacting the police. But to tell them exactly what? That I had a note

addressed to no one, from no one, with absolutely no other details than I'd found them in my mailbox. Alright, it wasn't exactly the dream romantic gestures that I think all girls kind of crave, but at the same time, why cause someone the distress of calling the cops on them? That felt kind of cruel. But after returning home that evening to something else in my apartment, I didn't feel so apprehensive about contacting them. I arrived home again that evening to find exactly what I expected in my mailbox. Another note, this time reading, yep, you guessed it, five days to go.

I stormed up to my apartment, grabbed a piece of notepaper and a sharpie, and wrote out something along the lines of, whoever is leaving stuff in my mailbox, please stop. It was sweet at first, but now it's kind of creepy. No more, or I call the police. I made an effort not to come across as too rude or aggressive but I also needed to make it clear that I really, really didn't appreciate their unwanted attention. I taped the note to the front entrance of my apartment building before I went to bed, hoping whoever it was would get the message and leave me alone.

So, little side note, I get a shower before bed every night, every night without fail. I'm almost sort of a clean freak, I keep my bathroom pretty much spotless. So as I finish getting washed, something small catches my eye. Something that might not even gain the attention of most people but to me, it stuck out like a sore thumb. A flash of color in what is an otherwise pristine white bathroom on the window's ledge was a tiny glassy dome shape just sat there on its own. I approached curiously peering down at it for a few moments before I completely freaked out and ran out of the bathroom to call the cops. It was a small, glass eye, a minuscule amount of fabric woven into the back of it.

I recognized it almost instantly as the missing eye from the teddy bear that I'd found in my mailbox. While I was on the phone to the police, I realized a few things about my prospective Valentine. As I said, I get a shower every evening before bed. I like hot showers, the steamier the better, so naturally the bathroom windows spends a lot of time ajar to let out the moisture. Whoever managed to put that glass eye on the bathroom window ledge had known my evening routine. They had obviously been watching me for long enough to work out the exact place to put something so that I'd see it, but it was their method that really creeped me

out. The way they used the small teddy's eye to tell me in so many words that they were watching me. I swapped the note out I'd written for one that simply read, the police have been contacted, leave me alone. And leave me alone they did, but the whole thing had a pretty serious effect on my psyche for a long time afterwards. Sometimes I'd find myself staring at someone in the coffee shop or someone walking past my flat, wondering if it was them, if one day one of them would look over and smile, and I'd just know they'd not given up just yet. Since people have been posting a lot of Valentine's related stories recently, I thought I'd share a little story of my own.

It's not nearly as scary as some of the others posted here about people sending each other animal hearts and whatnot, not on the surface anyway. But I guess what scared me so much was how a seemingly normal and pleasant situation could turn so horrible so fast. One minute you're commenting on how surreal or soap opera-ish something can be, but when you realize the real and present danger, it's too late. You're already staring it in the face. Some things or some people have a way of just creeping up on you, and this is how it happened to me. So about this time last year, I matched with a girl on Tinder who, like me, was looking for someone to spend valentines with. We hit it off almost straight away and it only took a week or so before we were hanging at each other's apartments, having little Netflix and dominoes

dates and generally sinking into the comfort of being a couple. We'd batted around the idea of making it official but we both agreed that the less we focused on what we referred to as relationship red tape, the happier and comfier we were. This is possibly where we made the first mistake. So at one point, myself and the girl were talking about how annoying it is when guys hit on her while she's at work. She was working behind a bar at the time, some tiki place that had her wearing Hawaiian shirts as part of her uniform. She always looks super cute in them, which is why I couldn't really blame guys for hitting on her. I mean, I would. This one guy had apparently asked her if she had a boyfriend, to which she replied

something along the lines of, no, I'm dating, serious. Now I know this wasn't her trying to keep her options open, as I'd been doing pretty much the same thing, shrugging off the questions all chill like I'm some kind of player. But it was all a front, we really did like each other. Anyways, we have that little conversation, do some venting and then move on. I really didn't pay it any more thought. That was until a few days later. The girl stays over at my house on the Sunday night intending to go straight to work from my place.

I get a text from an unknown number early in the afternoon saying it's her using a co-workers phone to let me know she's left her own phone in my apartment. So being gentlemanly, I go drop it off, say hi, and arrange ourselves a little date for later on. Now I rode my bike down to the bar, just like I ride my bike everywhere. Not because I'm a green-fingered hippie from the Extinction Rebellion, more like I can't quite afford the payments on a decent car yet. But as I'm riding back to my apartment, I hear a car behind me start to honk its horn angrily. I assume it's because he wants me to let him pass,

so I edge over to the side of the road and motion for him to go ahead. But he doesn't go ahead at all. The driver just keeps honking angrily at me, getting closer and closer until I'm actually pretty scared there's going to be an accident. I make the decision to mount the curb, just go get out of this idiot's way entirely. Only when I do, the guy slows to a stop, rolls down his window and begins smiling at me from his seat. I ask him if there's a problem with my cycling and he just doesn't reply, just keeps smiling as he rolls up his window and drives off. Now this isn't exactly unusual for a number of reasons. Drivers just seem to hate cyclists in my city. I don't know if it's because traffic laws favor cyclists or whatever, but let's just say it's not the first time I've run afoul

of some angry motorist while I've been cycling around town. So as annoying as it was, I hadn't put two and two together at that point. A few days pass and I'm doing some grocery shopping not too far from my apartment when I see a familiar face. Not just in passing either. Like two old acquaintances passing each other in a rush, I was being straight up stared at, eyeballed from down an aisle by someone I came to recognize as the crazy honker who was driving way too close behind me. I'm not one for public confrontation, so as much as I kinda wanted to at least give the guy a talking to, this was definitely not the place to do it.

Besides, I'm not one to hold a grudge, at least I think so anyway. So I just tried to avoid eye contact, get my groceries, and get out of there. Only this guy seemed to have other plans. Every single aisle I walked down, he's either already there there or appears shortly after. Almost as if he was tracking or following me which, as it turns out, was exactly what he was doing. I did a pretty good job of avoiding him, just picking up the essentials before making a beeline for the cashier and then the door. But just as I was about to mount my bike and take off, I heard someone jogging to catch up with me. It was the guy. I don't remember

exactly what was said between us. My heart was pounding by the time I rode away, but I'll try to paraphrase as best I can. You're the guy who likes honking his horn, right? Any reason you were following me around the supermarket today? Leave her alone. Leave who alone? You know who I'm talking about, kid. Unless you're as dumb as you look. I really don't, man, so please, fill me in. We both know... And then he went on to name the girl I've been seeing. What's nothing more to do with you?

If I hear about you bothering her again, I'll kill you. You threatening me? I don't think the cops would be too pleased about that. It's not a threat. It's a promise. I followed you that day. I know where you live, where you work, where your parents sleep. Leave her alone.

Or I'll take everything from you. Everything. As I rode away, he actually called after me. Called out the exact street address where my parents lived. A little side note, I went to visit them a day or two after the honking incident, so it was completely feasible that the guy had actually been following me, not just for a day or two, but like an entire freaking week. I talked to the girl I was seeing, and slowly we pieced together the picture of how this guy had

asked her if she was single on one day, then had proceeded to follow her and then me, until we built up a detailed picture of our entire lives. Fortunately for us, nothing more came out of the guy's threats. We each spotted him around town a few more times, eyeballing us as we were out on dates, etc. But then he seemed to just drop off the map entirely. And thank god too, sometimes I think of how easy it would have been for that guy to just knock me off my bike and inflict life-changing injuries upon me. Or worse, do something to my parents. Everyone's got a pro.

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when you purchase kumo road venture at 52 tires find your pro at your local tread experts from tires to auto repair we're always there It was 1992 and I was 16 years old, and for context I am female. I live with my parents in a small coastal town in Oregon. Lots of dunes, beaches, rivers, very pretty, but also a lot of transient traffic, tourists, hitchhikers, that sort of thing. The town I grew up in consisted of fishermen and loggers. Everyone pretty much knew everyone, so for the most part I felt safe. I was working at a fancy fish restaurant in the tiny town of Charleston that sat right in the harbor off the main dock.

It was about 15 miles from my house. I only worked a couple of nights a week and my parents would just let me drive their car. I wasn't old enough to serve alcohol, so I worked as a busser. Each server got their own busser, and then at the end of the night they tipped us out. This new guy named Jay moves to town from New York City. I always worked his shifts, and he got along really well, so after the first few weeks he started picking me to be his own busser,

which is great. I liked him because he was good at his job, cute, funny, and always tipped me out really well. One night we were way busier than usual and it took us a really long time to do our side work. It was well after midnight when we finally finished so he offered to walk me out to my car. It was very sweet of him even though I thought it was unnecessary. I grabbed my stuff and we walked out the back kitchen door. My car was parked in our almost totally empty gravel parking lot. I hopped into the driver's seat of my little Nissan Sentra and started digging through my bag for my keys. All of a sudden his eyes got all wide and he says, Why isn't your door locked? Are you crazy?

I laughed. Well, yeah, of course my doors are unlocked. I never lock them. Jay looked totally mortified. Why not? He asked. Why would I? I retorted. Stone-faced, Jay then sternly tells me to lock my door.

I started to giggle and in jest I put my hands up as if to tell him to relax. I reached over and smacked the lock down so he sees it. Then I made a catty comment, something to the effects of, relax, you're not in New York City anymore. But this wasn't good enough. He then walked around the front of my car and casually opened the passenger door, snaps the lock down and shuts the door, and with a smile of victory walks back inside the building. I'm still giggling as I drive off.

Gotta love big city people. It was almost 1am at this point. Usually I'm done and home by midnight, but I made a lot of money and I was in a super good mood so I turned up the stereo and headed home. There are two ways for me to get home. There is a main road that is well lit and well traveled but goes all the way around the town forcing me to loop back around to finally get me home. The second route is Libby Lane which is adjacent off of Seven Devils Road which is linked to almost as many urban legends as Route 666. A road I would never walk on at night and many people avoid driving it even during the day but Libby Lane was also by far the shortest route home as it cut straight through the forest and dropped me off very close to my house. Libby Lane was not lit with lampposts and due to its curvy, windy, narrow lanes was pretty much only traveled by locals. It was quiet and often times I would drive all the way home without seeing another vehicle as large stretches of this road were

just desolate. I grew up hearing all kinds of stories about these two roads. Everything from boogeymen to satanic worship rituals, even UFO sightings. But I don't scare easily and I sort of like the creepy feeling of seeing the shadows and darkness of the night engulf my car as I glanced into the rearview mirror. I found it somewhat thrilling. It was a feeling that made me realize how secluded the world can still be and how tiny I was in it. I get about halfway home and it was super dark, no moon out, so all I could see was what my headlights illuminated in front of me. Livvy Lane is very windy and narrow with lots of soft shoulders. For those that don't know what that is, a soft shoulder is soft dirt or sand on the sides of a road that makes it very easy to get your vehicle stuck or even flip over if you drive on it.

Out of nowhere, I saw an old Monte Carlo parked in the middle of the lane with its hazard lights on. I could see the blinking red lights from a ways off and I didn't immediately get suspicious. It was about 10 yards ahead of me when I slowed down to a crawl. As I got closer it struck me as odd that the car was not just in the middle of the road but it was parked diagonally across both lanes making it very difficult to get around. Still I just figured he spun out or something. As my car edged closer I noticed that standing in front of the Monte Carlo was a very tall black man who was at least 6 foot 4, lean and wearing a long black trench coat. When he saw my lights

he started casually waving his arms up and down at me. Keep in mind that I lived in a town where most locals knew each other or were at least familiar and this guy was not from here, that much I knew for sure, so I had no intention of letting him inside my car. However, I did intend on stopping to let him know I would call him a tow as soon as I got home. This incident happened in the 90s before cell phones were a thing. As I slow even more I see him walking up to the passenger side door. I came to a full stop and reach over to start rolling down the window. That was a big mistake. Everything from here on happened so fast. The minute my car was at a full stop his casual walk turned into a sprint as he made a mad

dash toward the door handle. He yanked on it once, immediately realized that my door was locked, and then flew into a fit of rage like I'd never seen. Using his left hand to continue pulling on the handle, the man makes a fist with his free hand and starts punching the window really hard in an obvious attempt to shatter the glass. I was totally caught off guard and just started screaming. My heart jumped into my throat the next thing I knew I was in full panic mode. I slammed my car into gear and let off the clutch so fast I almost stalled out. I had to swerve because his Monte Carlo was like a big boat and it was blocking most of the lane. I took the swerve because his Monte Carlo was like a big boat and it was blocking most of the lane. I took the risk of driving onto the soft shoulder in order to get around the car.

Thank god I didn't get stuck because he would have eventually broke the window. I was sure of that. The whole time I'm driving around his vehicle he was running beside my car still punching at the windows and pulling on the door. I was close enough to his car that he actually ran into his own front bumper forcing him to let go of my door handle. I remember driving like a maniac staring into my rear view mirror just waiting to see the headlights of his car barreling down on me. I still had a good 15 minute drive to make it home. I swear it was the longest 15 minutes of my life. He didn't follow me, at least I don't think he did. Then again, I knew that road like the back of my hand,

so I was pretty sure I could drive it a lot faster than he could. That didn't make the terror I felt any less though. I got home, ran into the house shaking and totally unnerved. I called the police and told them everything the police drove out to the spot that same night but found nothing not a single trace when they spoke to me they asked if he said anything to me or if I knew him it was then that I felt a little perplexed as I thought back on the incident. He would think that he would have yelled at me to stop or to get out of the car or even just scream but he didn't. In fact the man never uttered a single word and didn't make any noise at all except for the pounding on the window. The whole experience was horrifying but that tiny piece of it was so bizarre.

I never saw the car or that man again, but my next work shift I hugged Jay tight and thanked him profusely. Had he not insisted that I lock my passenger side door, then that man would have most definitely gotten inside. It happened in the summer of 2016 and I was currently spending a couple of nights alone at home while my parents were away on a trip. I don't live in the nicest of cities but I live in a relatively nice neighborhood since it's right next to a major university. I've been followed home a couple of times, had neighbors have their homes broken into and the like but most of the really bad stuff happens in the downtown

area of my city. So it was late at night on my second night home alone around 11pm. I had been playing some video games with a couple of buddies of mine when I decided to go downstairs to make a late night snack. Cliche setting, I know. Anyway, when you walk down my stairs you make a 180 degree turn to walk down a short hallway that opens into my kitchen living room. When you open the door from the hallway into the kitchen, across from the kitchen table is a set of doors that open into the backyard. The two doors have giant windows that cover the whole door, kind of like a storm door I suppose. Those will become relevant later. As I go into the kitchen and start making some ice cream, I thought I had heard some laughing. Now at first I thought it was just my phone since I happened to be listening to a Scary Story podcast at the time.

However, as I paused my podcast and waited a second, the laugh came yet again. The sound was odd. The best way to describe it would be like if you took the Star Wars character Yoda's laugh and made it a little creepier. It was childlike and playful, yet it was deep and sadistic. The laugh repeated again a third time, this time a little louder. I began to look around wondering if it was just my mind playing tricks on me. I walked over to the sink where one of the windows that looks out to my backyard was and I just saw darkness.

There didn't seem to be anything out there but right as I was about to look away a face appeared at my window. I immediately jumped back and gasped. The face got closer to the window. It was a man and he had a giant cartoonish smile on his face. He let out another one of those laughs and walked towards the two screen doors next to the sink. He began to jiggle the lock, all the while laughing and tapping at the window. I bolted upstairs, locking myself in my room with my bo staff in one hand and my phone in the other. Just as the operator picked up, I heard glass shatter downstairs and the laugh, the terrible creepy laugh echoed throughout the house.

I tremble and shudder as I told the operator my situation. She told me to stay calm and that an officer would be there soon. As I pulled the phone away from my ear for a second I noticed that it was silent. I stood there, the wooden floorboards creaking as my weight shifted. Then I heard it. That laugh again. It was quiet at first, and then it got louder. I could hear the man walking up my stairs, the floorboards creaking louder with each step.

It got louder and louder, and before I could realize what was happening he was at my door. I stayed completely silent ready for him to come in. He tried the door the lock jiggled. He began to laugh even more as he started to pound on the door. The pounding got louder as he began to throw himself against the door, the latches starting to give way. And that's when I saw it, the flashing lights. The police had finally arrived. Before I knew it, they found their way in and I just stood there, frozen. The man lit up on the door and began laughing that terrible, creepy laugh.

He laughed when the police got upstairs. He laughed as they dragged him outside and I swear I could hear him laugh as they put him in the car. The rest of the story is kind of much of a blur. As my parents arrived home, we got the place fixed up and the guy was convicted for breaking and entering. Now I'm almost 18 and now it's just another story to scare my friends. I'm a female, 27 years old and when I was 13 my family and I moved from Germany to Spain. I had to go to an international school, but I didn't enjoy it, hated the kids, and struggled with my self-worth. I would spend most of my days on my computer, playing Need for Speed Underground 2 and listening to pop music.

One of the most visited sites on the internet for me was a German chat site called Nuttles. Talking to other kids my age on the internet really helped me because I didn't have any friends in Spain, was uncool and chubby and couldn't speak the language. One late afternoon I discovered a chat room on said site for the part of Spain we moved to and there were some hundred people online who would chat about it, their experience with the place and so on. Now for understanding in the chat room you could see the username and their age behind it together with a little female or male sign. So mine was my name, 13 years old, female. I threw a casual hi, I live at such and such place and would love to meet new people. Some replied with hi's and how are you's and generally being nice. Then a separate chat

window opened, sort of a private messaging, and there was a guy asking me if I was really 13. His username was Tom, 35 male. I have to admit that I wasn't a very bright teen and I love getting attention, especially from older people, so I instantly replied and told him, yes, I am 13. He immediately began small talk, asking about why I lived there, when we moved, if I was going to school, which part of the island I was living at and so forth. I answered carefully but excitedly, glad I met someone to talk to that wasn't my family. He then asked me if I'd like to talk to him the next day and I agreed. I didn't think much of it but was really happy to talk to him which I of course didn't tell anyone. Next day, same spiel. He got online, found me on his friends list and started talking to me. Only this time his questions got a lot more personal. Things like, did you have a boyfriend already? Or do you like writing stories?

I love stories, especially with people who fall in love. Things like that. I told him I like stories too, I've always had a book with me since my mother told me at a young age that reading is very important and makes people think and speak better and faster. He said he would write me a piece of his story and I should continue the story if I want. I don't remember much of the story only that it got very intimate fast. Something like that he wanted to shower with me and kiss me. He'd send me photos of himself rather quickly, of his car, a white jeep, and of his house, which had a nice view of the ocean, including an infinity pool in his backyard.

I remember being really giddy and excited and nervous all at once, butterflies flying in my stomach. I'd told him that his house was beautiful and that he looked good. He was honestly average looking. I remember him having short gray brown hair, a five o'clock shadow and massive sunglasses over his eyes. He wore a white shirt and jean shorts. I started to like him and chatted another week or so with him, learning what he liked. He started saying what he liked in bed and all of the intimate explicit things that he wanted to do to me on the beach and at his huge pool back home. He even sent me a picture of certain things I can't describe which was honestly shocking but being a naive kid and wanting to appear cool and mature, I told him what he wanted to hear. He started to ask me about my location and friends and I told him I couldn't talk about stuff like that.

That it was too personal and my parents told me I should never do that. He reacted very understanding and was kind. We continued writing our stories back and forth for nearly a month. How I managed to keep it all a secret from my parents, I don't know. I honestly hated being in Spain. I hated the people, hated the heat and the beach and the ocean. I desperately wanted to go home where I grew up and had all of my friends. I got to a bad point of me being upset because I felt trapped on this stupid island with no friends at school where I didn't understand anyone and no one understood me. I remember being so upset one day because a bunch of girls bullied me and called me names and laughed at me for nothing that the next day I

didn't want to go out of my dad's car when he drove me to school. I refused and cried which led to a serious talk with my parents. They asked me to try it again and tried to reassure me that everything is going to be okay and in the end I agreed and promised to go to school. In the meantime I talked to Tom again and rambled on how stupid everyone was at that school and stupid me accidentally dropped the school's name which I didn't even realize at first until he asked me if he should pick me up after school the next day so he could act on all of those stories. I panicked and told him no. My dad would be there to get me and if he found out he would be really mad. He said it's okay and he wouldn't do anything to hurt me.

I logged off and tried to occupy my mind with other things. At this point I realized I should have told my parents what happened but I was so afraid that they'd be angry and I would get in trouble or they'd take my computer away, the only connection I had with other people. So I didn't say a word and went to school the next day. It was horrible as always. Don't get me wrong, I really tried making friends. I tried being open and learned Spanish and there even was another girl from Germany but she lived there since kindergarten so she already spoke Spanish and didn't really like me anyway. When school was over I ran to the gates, watched all the children around me getting picked up and was looking for my dad's car.

When all of a sudden I saw a white jeep and a guy that looked very familiar with big black sunglasses on my left. He was there. My stomach dropped and my heart sped up. Tom stood in the parking lot right outside my school when he saw me. He smirked and waved in a really awkward way, standing right in front of his jeep with a black leather jacket. Still in shock and disbelief, I looked all around and finally spotted my dad's car. He was parked at the parking lot right on the other side of the road. I hastily ran across the street and got into our car. My dad said hello, asked about my day and tried to answer like everything was okay and my heart wasn't in my throat beating so fast I thought that it would come out of my ribcage at any second. Safe to say

I never talked to Tom again and deleted my account. However, it wasn't the last time I logged onto that website and it wasn't my last experience with a creep. Maybe this isn't as frightening of a story as some up here, but it surely was to me. Since then, I've been very careful with my private information and never told anyone about where I live. I still hope that Tom never acted on his desire, and that there weren't any other girls my age. I work at an indoor jungle gym for kids. It's small enough but there's still plenty of room for the kids to run around in. We close at 8 every day, usually with one kitchen staff, one manager and one general

floor worker. It was a Friday and I was closing. We close the place down at 8 and have an hour to clean up. I'm a general worker so I was sweeping the floor. To get into the play area you need to go by the cash and through a gate that's unlocked with a button in the office. The kitchen staff worker already left as it was pretty dead in the kitchen that night and she finished early so it was just my manager and I my manager was in the kitchen collecting the cash for the whole day I was sweeping the front when I heard the front door open sorry we're closed is what I said without looking up when I did look up I was face to face with a man in all black, holding a gun.

I instantly froze and dropped the broom. Open the cash and give me all the money or I'll shoot. His voice was raspy and sounded like his throat was filled with gravel. I was paralyzed in fear. I simply nodded and quickly walked into the office. The man was following behind me, his gun pressed up to my back. At this point I was having a severely bad anxiety attack. My manager was still in the kitchen which is out of sight of the office.

Turns out my manager had already logged out of the till, meaning I couldn't get in and get the cash for the gunman, which only caused me more anxiety. Hurry up, he said, and I noticed I was having difficulty with this. I can't log in. I don't have the password to get in. I said back to him, hoping he would realize he had no chance of getting money from me or my workplace and would just leave. But it only angered him. I don't care, just find a way to open the cash box or I'll blow your brains out. I can still hear that last part in my mind. I was freaking out and trying different number patterns but absolutely nothing worked. Then I heard the police sirens and felt somewhat relieved when I saw how scared the man looked. He dropped the gun when he heard the cop call out for the man to drop his weapon and she cuffed him.

After he was pulled away the cop talked to me and my manager who had glanced over when she heard his voice and called the cops from the kitchen with her cell phone which she brought with her. Thank God she was there. It's been about a month now and every time I close I'm always so jumpy and can hear his voice in the back of my head saying I'll blow your brains out. This happened just a few days ago. I'm a 23 year old female and I don't have my own car yet. I was standing at the corner of my block waiting for the bus. That's usually how I get to work and my job is only about 10 minutes away from where I live, by vehicle.

It's not too far of a walk but it also kind of is. As I was waiting for the bus, which was due in about 2-3 minutes, It's not too far of a walk but it also kind of is. As I was waiting for the bus which was due in about 2-3 minutes, a red pickup truck drove up to the intersection across from me. Before I get into the story let me just say that I am a pretty paranoid person but I don't necessarily see that as a horrible thing. I'd rather be paranoid than aloof in regards to my surroundings. I'm also very familiar with let's not meet stories and even though it triggers my anxiety

hearing all the terrifying stories people have shared, I've gained a lot of knowledge from them. Anyway, the truck pulls up to the intersection and I expected it to either turn left or right. Instead it just sat there and I made eye contact with the driver. It was a man, but I couldn't make out any features just yet. He was just staring at me, which was obviously unsettling. I then noticed that he didn't have his turn signals on, indicating that he either had no intention of turning or he had simply forgotten to put them on. I continued to watch him carefully while slipping one hand in my coat pocket for my phone and the other into the other pocket to make

sure I had my pepper spray. Thankfully I had both. Five minutes go by and I'm starting to grow more and more anxious. The bus is late and this creep is still watching me from across the street. I knew I had some options but in that moment nothing was coming to me. Then he began to pull forward a little then pull back. He played his weird inch forward inch back game for about a minute before I really began to feel on edge. This behavior was so not normal. Finally after some traffic had gone by he pulled forward and slowly turned right. At last I was able to take a deep breath. He was leaving and it all had just been a weird little encounter right? Nope.

That idiot stopped and began to make a u-turn. At that point I knew he was about to pull up to me. My heart sank and I prepared myself as best I could for what possibly could be coming. I could have ran but I was afraid of triggering a chase. I'm a slow runner and even though I was so close to my house there was no guarantee I would have made it without him catching up to me or at least seeing where I lived. My best option in that moment was my pepper spray and I was more than ready to use it if he tried getting out of the truck. The man rolled down his window and mumbled something to me. He was tan, had a skinny face

and wore a black baseball cap and dark clothes. I couldn't make anything else out. I had backed up so that I wasn't right next to his truck, and stupidly said, What? Because I couldn't hear him. He mumbled again. I wasn't sure if he was asking for directions, asking if I wanted a ride, or something else. But rather than asking him to speak up once more,

I simply held up my hands and said, No thanks, and started walking away. I prayed that that would be it and he would just drive off. Again not happening. He slowly backed up following me but he didn't say anything else. I wasn't sure what to do or where to go at this point because even if I had ran down the street, down another block or down a driveway he could have caught up to me somehow and I would have rather stayed out in the open with lots of passing traffic than run down a street with nobody outside to see me or hear me yelling for help. I just kept speedwalking and to my surprise he didn't drive away but he

unfortunately turned onto my block and parked. That meant I couldn't go home. Instead I chanced it and booked it into the driveway behind my block all the while paranoid that he would follow me. I hid behind someone's car and called the police. While the line rang I watched my bus go by but I wasn't even worried about it at that point or about being late for work. I told the dispatcher what was happening and tried to give as much information as I could. I was crying and shaking and my heart was absolutely pounding. My next worry was that I would have a panic attack which would trigger my heart condition, super fast palpitations. I tried to remain calm as I sprinted

to the garage of my house and fumbled with my keys, periodically looking over my shoulder to make sure I didn't see that red truck appear out of nowhere. I got inside safely and the dispatcher asked me if the car was still out front on my block. When I went to check, I didn't see it. While waiting for the police to come, I called my mom and my sister to let them know what was happening. I also ran around my house to make sure everything was locked. Then I called my manager to explain why I would be so late. My mind was spinning and I couldn't believe what was happening. I didn't feel safe at all even

though the truck was gone and the man hadn't actually done anything at all to me. All the scenarios of what could have happened plagued me throughout the day and are still plaguing me. The police came and took a report but unfortunately they couldn't do anything as expected. I didn't get the guy's plates and I was also unsure of the model of the truck. It looked like a Dodge but I'm not that great at identifying cars. This story may not be that terrifying in people's minds but when you're in that situation you don't know what is about to happen next. Whether you're about to be snatched by a stranger or not it's absolutely petrifying. I'm afraid of every red truck I see that resembles his and I'm looking over my shoulder even more now. I just can't relax in public anymore.

Please be safe out there. This goes for women and men. People are crazy, and you never know who may be watching you. I have a theory as to why the man didn't speak up when he pulled up to me. I think he wanted me to approach his truck so that he could force me inside or pull a gun on me or something. I could be wrong, but it's the only thing that makes sense right now. In no way could I hear him and I would have only been able to if I'd moved closer to the truck. Hopefully I'll get my car soon so that I gathered the courage to share my own stalker experience with you. I took my sweet time and the story itself is quite long. I'm sure you'll see why, though.

I'm a female, 21 years old, a student living in the Czech Republic A teeny tiny country in Central Europe for all those who don't know This all started on the 1st of April 2019 and lasted for the next month and a half And to be honest, it still isn't completely over yet One of my majors is journalism I was in my 4th semester at the time and had to make a radio news show for my practical class. That meant finding my own real topic to write about and record sounds, the usual simple stuff. I decided to head to an exhibition of a famous Czech writer, Milan Kundera. He's great,

because at the time his 90th birthday was celebrated there. The event itself was amazing. I got all the info and sounds that I needed. Someone handed me a celebratory glass of champagne and I was just strolling around, looking at the exhibits of books and whatever. That's where I first met him. He came to me and introduced himself as Evo. I personally prefer calling him idiot. Blonde hair,

green eyes, clean shaven, nice suit and quite handsome. Could be around late 20s. He struck up a conversation with me about the writer and honestly it was all cool for a while. Though wary I'm a magnet for encounters with random people so I wasn't weirded out or anything. But then he pointed out this one book, Laughable Loves, and smoothly started asking me very personal questions while getting closer to me. Lovely dress you got there. Are you wearing such revealing clothes often? Do you have a boyfriend? You've got such huge eyes. Gotta catch the attention of at least a dozen guys. Sure got mine. Bear in mind that in the meantime, he got me three more glasses of champagne and I was getting kind of tipsy. So after becoming more and more touchy, physically and in the conversation,

I decided to call it quits and head back to my apartment. It was getting dark already and I had to walk to a tram platform that was around 500 meters away. Evo followed me all the way, talking about all sorts of stuff, mostly making me uncomfortable. What a joy when he said his apartment is in the same way as mine. The tram we had needed to take was full of people so he took the chance to press himself onto me and he was hard. I was so grossed out, annoyed and tipsy at that point that I flew out of the tram at my stop and was ignoring the fact that Eva was following me till the door of the building where my apartment was. A grave mistake on my part I know. He then tapped my shoulder and asked for my number. I said no, mumbled something

about this is a small city, chances are good that we might see each other again somewhere sometime and reached for the door handle. He nodded and headed back to the tram platform. I watched him get in the tram and wow, he went back to the direction we originally came from, which weirded me out even more since he said he lived a few more stops away in the other direction. I told my best friend Kay who I shared my apartment with all about him, but she thought I was pranking her. It was April the 1st after all, but that was soon about to change. Evo started appearing everywhere. There was a small park right in front of my building and I saw him there every day. He never looked at me there, never spoke to me,

so I was acting as if he didn't exist either. My bedroom window was facing the park and only then I sometimes caught a glimpse of him staring, though he couldn't see me. Then it got worse. Let me quickly describe the layout of the building I lived in. The main door served as an entrance to a restaurant that was occupying the whole first floor. The floors above were just student apartments and you could get there only through one single door in the restaurant. Guests and staff were walking around from a kitchen to the dining area but you had to own a key to open the door. Approximately a week later, Evo started visiting the restaurant. I was friends with one of the cooks and he told me that idiot always ordered just lemonade and was staring at the door leading

to the apartments the whole time. The waitresses thought he was a weirdo. Two weeks later, Kay told me that she saw Evo asking some other students to let him into the apartment floors. It probably worked because, and I don't know how he found where our apartment was, that is when the first box of chocolates and a note arrived to our entrance. Eat up, beautiful, it said. The next day, flowers and another note. No flower can smell as magically as you. Third day, a teddy bear holding a sign.

I love you honey. Every day a different gift, a note, same writing, never a signature. I knew it was Evo. But why wasn't he trying to contact me in any other way? Why was he being so weird? I wasn't getting any new social media friend requests or messages, just this. I was feeling more and more unnerved, even more when my chef friend told me Evo was nowhere to be seen anymore. And I wasn't really feeling followed either, so

I was just stuck with an awful aftertaste, tons of gifts and all these cringy notes. Everything escalated so suddenly. Kay was always out of the apartment from Wednesday till Monday because she partly lived with her family in a near town. It was around 2.30am, the 16th of May and I was up late in my bedroom. Suddenly I heard a loud bang. I jumped and put down my headphones thinking that my neighbors are getting it on again or something. The walls were paper thin and honestly parties and such were quite common there. But then another bang and I realized it was coming from our apartment's door. Those wooden old doors that I so often had to lock twice because they were so terrible. It could be anyone, but I instinctively

reached for my phone and turned all the lights off. Only one name was playing in my mind. Evo. The door gave in and was literally kicked into our kitchen in a matter of seconds. I squeaked as quietly as possible and hid under my bed. It was the kind that you can open and stuff unused pillows or blankets in there. The top of the bed was heavy and trapped me in with a loud thud. I was laying on my back, staring into darkness and just hoped that the intruder didn't hear it. I listened to the muffled sounds in the apartment. He turned on a kitchen light and started opening shelves I guess and that's when I remembered my phone and with shaky hands I called the police for the first time in

my life. I quickly explained the situation to the operator, told them my location and then I heard my bedroom door open. Hey, good evening? I ended the call. His voice was quiet and no movement was heard. It was Evo for sure. He just stood there, probably thinking whether he's studied my schedule right. After all, I was supposed to be in the apartment, alone. Idiot must have even seen the light from my window as well so he was logically confused. My bedsheets were a mess, open laptop sitting on a table, headphones on the floor. A soft laugh escaped his lips and I put my hands over my mouth and nose so he wouldn't hear me breathing and sobbing. He knew I was there somewhere. With loud boos and laughs, Evo opened K's wardrobe, my wardrobe, a big chest full of useless junk,

then went to the bathroom and searched there, and came back, sat right above me on my bed and just stayed there in silence. I knew he was going to find me soon and that I couldn't let out even the slightest peep. I wasn't able to breathe, My tears were suffocating me. I still considered those three police officers my personal heroes. They arrived at the last minute. The main entrance of the building and the door leading into the apartment's area were wide open and our door, poor old kicked out door, told them that something was seriously wrong. They arrested Angry Evo with their guns drawn and I was finally able to cry out loud throughout their yelling.

One of them had to help me get out from inside the bed because I lost all my strength and couldn't get the top open. They checked if I was alright and I explained everything to them. I couldn't even look at Evo though he was staring at me the whole time. They then took him away in handcuffs and one officer stayed with me. The owner of the apartments was called and she was absolutely livid. She told me she definitely would press charges against the dude and that I can add my allegations into the case. Because I got rid of all of the gifts and notes and therefore didn't have any solid proof of stalking this was the best thing that I could do. My mom arrived shortly after and I spent the rest of the semester with my family and that's basically it. I'd love to say that idiot's in jail now but

the trial never really happened just yet. It so far got postponed twice because of Evo's health reasons, which is nonsense, so he's still running out there freely and no one can do much. As for me, I'm better now. I take it as an experience that gave me something to remember. I just hope that justice will once be rightfully served. I'm from Belfast, Ireland. I have a large friend group and we would always have sleepovers at my house. This is the story of how one camp out out in my back garden all went wrong. I live in a nice neighborhood mostly with old people in it. It was around Easter and in my school we get a week and a half off for the Easter break. Just before school ended we decided to have

a camp out in my back garden because I recently got a new tent. That could fit probably my whole friend group in it. It was the Saturday after we finished. We all met up in my house around 7 o'clock. We ordered pizza, made marshmallows around the fire and all in all we had fun. At around 12.30 we all decided to crawl into the tent to play some card games as it was getting quite cold outside. I dealt all 13 decks and we began a game of Jack Change It. After around 5 different card games, we all ordered some food and climbed into bed to wait on it to come. We got a text message saying it would be there in around 40 minutes so we all could relax for a while. The food came and we all went outside to sit around

the fire and eat. I have a large back garden and we were all at the bottom of it so we weren't afraid of waking my parents up by singing and talking loudly. After finishing our food we got back into the tent and decided to get some rest. When everyone had drifted off to sleep I was awoken by a strange sound, a sort of whistling sound. I brushed it off as being me dreaming but around two minutes later there it was again. Every two minutes it happened again. I woke up my friend and told her to listen. Straight after I said that there was a different kind of whistle and it came from the other side of the tent. This was when we all decided to wake everyone up. After around 10 minutes of listening to the whistling going back and forth, we heard footsteps

coming from behind the tent. The crunching of leaves made us all fall still. One, two, three, run! I whispered in a frantic voice. All thirteen of us sprinted the fifteen seconds to my back door. We unlocked the door with the key my mom gave us and all ran in. We looked out the window and all could just slightly make out three human figures at the bottom of my garden. We all slept in the living room that night and I had never had another camp out in my back garden again. Before starting the story I need to state that coming from a strict household I did not know how to deal with this type of situation. Thankfully I handled it correctly based on hearing scary stories and knew what to do to ensure my safety, although it may be weird.

The story goes back to three years ago when I was attending a community college during the summer to take classes for credits since I lacked credits. My class started around morning and ended through the evening when the sun would set. This class took place on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays so it was obvious that I would be tired by the end of the week which was Fridays or Saturdays. I would talk to my boyfriend a lot back then when I wasn't as busy as a sophomore in college. I would show him the campus and he would point out people behind me who would look at me. One day when my lab finished I began walking to my car which was a long trip, usually a mile's walk. When I was nearing to my car I began putting my stuff in. A guy behind me asked a question which startled me a bit but he seemed nice so I calmed down. He said, hey I'm not from, but I'm working on a project that involves taking pictures of hands and feet from different ethnicities.

You seem Indian, so I want to get a picture. Are you up for it? On a side note, people from different colleges go to community colleges to get credit during the summer, so it's common if people don't go there. I said, sure, I'm not from here either. He began walking to his car and I started panicking because I had to think of something really quick. My phone was terrible because I cracked it to the point where it dies very quickly and the camera doesn't work. Yeah, I was irresponsible back then. I thought of a plan which was to get in the car and leave the door open if he tried anything. I tried memorizing the license plate but I couldn't. When I got inside he told me to take off my shoes and I was looking for his camera. He said his camera's in his phone. I wasn't

shocked because he didn't have an actual camera and relied on a phone. Hmm, was a bit suspicious. My gut was screaming to get out of there now, get out of there alive. It had been a minute, I don't know how long, and he told me I was pretty a couple of times and I said thanks. I made it up an excuse to leave and immediately got out of there. I walked to my car fast and I was freaking out a bit. When I got home, I told my boyfriend and he became suspicious and worried. I informed my biology teacher and never heard of it again until 2019. It's 2020 right now. My boyfriend and I were talking about the incident one night and he brought up how the guy is connected to a gang. My boyfriend got the info from his friends but I won't go into detail about how he got it. He was targeting me for some reason. He apparently was actually dangerous since he had something in his pocket which was an injection to make a person sleep instantly I believe. The reason he didn't

inject me was because there were people around us and he was being cautious. That day, he could have sold me and ended my life. Who knows? All I know is that I'm glad that I listened to my gut that day, which saved my life. I usually ride the bus home from school. It helps me pull myself together after a long day. It takes maybe about 20 to 25 minutes to get to my stop. On this bus ride home, I was listening to a certain scary Spotify podcast. I don't normally get spooked by these types of things because I don't think it will ever happen to me. I'm a semi-confident person when it comes to strangers. If I'm with friends, I'm overconfident and somewhat dumb.

I'll wave and say hi to random people I don't know. If I was alone, that wouldn't be the case. This is important to the story, knowing me, I'm not afraid of strangers and very observant when it comes to public places. My bus stops at my stop and I get off. Two other kids get off at my stop and meet their, what seems to be mom, at the first house. I live in a trailer park for the time being, so there are many trailers before mine. I live near the end of the park so it is a far walk from me. There are speed bumps every couple of houses. I was still listening to the podcast when I kept hearing the sound of a car coming behind me.

Thinking it was coming from the podcast I looked back just to be sure to see a car driving really slow behind me. Thinking that they are slowing down due to the speed bump I was walking over and maybe being in the way, I stepped aside onto the snowy sidewalk. I keep walking, now past the speed bump and I notice that the car hasn't passed me, now passing a man who's shoveling his driveway before again looking back. Now the car has turned around and is driving at that same slow speed. This catches me off guard as my gut gets this weird feeling. I brush it off and keep walking knowing that my house is close. I walk up to my driveway before taking one more glance back.

The car is now turning around driving incredibly slowly. I'm now in my house watching out my window while riding this to see if that red car comes back. I don't know what the driver had in mind. I don't really want to know. If my gut feeling is right then that man shoveling his driveway may have inadvertently saved my life. and maybe even hear your story featured on the next video. And join my Discord to interact with me and other listeners directly. And if you want to support me even more, grab early access to all future narrations for just $1 a month on Patreon and maybe even pick up some Let's Read merch on Spreadshirt. And check out the Let's Read podcast where you can hear all these stories

in long compilation form and save huge on data, located anywhere you listen to podcasts. Links in the bio. Thanks so much, friends, and I'll see you again soon.