The Tape Library - Archive of the Paranormal & the Unexplained - Night Drive Paranormal Ep 25 - Nobody Was Supposed to Be There

Episode Date: September 10, 2026

3 brand-new real-life tales of the paranormal for you to relax or fall asleep to. All narrated by  @TheTapeLibrary  Welcome back to Night Drive Paranormal. These are real stories, submitted by listeners from different countries and cultures, each describing encounters that defy easy explanation. From quiet hauntings to unsettling late-night experiences, this episode is designed for slow listening, something to play on a night drive, in the dark, or as you drift off to sleep. As always, this is not sensationalised horror. There are no jump scares, no loud interruptions, just the stories told as they were experienced. Drive safe. Keep the volume low. And if you hear something… don’t turn around. Sign up to Patreon for early access and shout outs - www.patreon.com/thetaplibrary Subscribe now for more terrifying tales of the paranormal. If you have a story to share then you can email me at [e-mail] Additional footage and audio from Evanto, Artgrid, Epidemic Sounds, Singularity, Midjourney and Pexels. Music by Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio and the youtube audio library. All other footage used under fair use. CHAPTERS 00:00 Night Drive Paranormal 01:16 The People on the Porch 05:23 Touched by the Devil 26:53 From Another Plane 44:28 Wrapping Up SpectreVision Radio is a bespoke podcast network at the intersection between the arts and the uncanny, featuring a tapestry of shows exploring creativity, the esoteric, and the unknown. We’re a community for creators and fans vibrating around common curiosities, shared interests and persistent passions. spectrevisionradio.com linktr.ee/spectrevisionsocial Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Don't you wish you could just hit skip on the worst parts of your life? You know, the same way you can skip an ad? I get it. I'm Siaia and I live in Ice Cove. I've made some questionable decisions that didn't end up the way I planned. And today, I'm still figuring it out. Somehow things usually get worse before they get better. Apparently, that's how I roll.

So bundle up and come along for the bumpy ride. Stream a new episode of North of North Tuesdays on CBC Gem. Hello, and thank you for tuning back in to Night Drive Paranormal. I know it's been a little while, but the studio is back up and running now. We had some... gremlins in the system. Nothing to be concerned about, but the broadcast became tricky. If you haven't listened to the show before, every month I like to share with you all some experiences that have been submitted by listeners of the show.

whatever you choose to believe, the people who submitted these stories all claim that their accounts really happened. I try to read these accounts as close to the original wording as possible. I think it's important we hear these stories in the way that the experiences reported them. But with that in mind, please remember, these are not professional writers in most cases, just people who want to share their experiences. With that, out of the way. Get yourself comfortable and let's get into our first case tonight. Hello. I'm from Colorado and a while ago I met a guy and we started dating. He was originally from Florida and we used to talk about ghosts and paranormal experiences pretty often. He had his own

stories to tell. He once told me about a house he had lived in where strange things would happen right in front of him. Things would move on their own, a mug sliding across the coffee table, for example. Doors were shut by themselves, and there were other things that he couldn't really explain. He said that whenever it happened, there was something about it that felt genuinely scary. Almost evil. things got bad enough that the family decided to give whatever was there, its own room. They'd heard that sometimes if you gave whatever it was a space of its own, the activity would

stop, or at least become less aggressive. I don't remember all the details of his stories anymore, but eventually I ended up with one of my own. Sometime later he wanted to visit his mum and brother and kiss me, Florida, and he asked me to go with him. I agreed, I'd never been to that part of Florida before, so I thought it would be fun. While we were there one night, he asked me if I wanted to see the house he had been telling me about. Of course I said yes. He board his dad's truck and the two of us drove over there. When we pulled into the driveway, the house was lit up.

There were a few people outside on the porch. And almost immediately, everything inside the truck started going crazy. The lights inside the truck began flashing, and the radio suddenly started changing stations by itself. My boyfriend panicked. He was fumbling with the controls, trying to get us out of there as quickly as possible. I looked up at the house. The people on the porch were watching us. I remember feeling embarrassed as Willis scared. Whatever was happening inside the truck was happening right in front of these people and I had no idea what they must have been thinking.

Eventually my boyfriend managed to get the truck moving. We backed out of the driveway in a hurry and drove away. Once we were some distance away from the house I looked at him and told him how embarrassing that had been. I said the people living there had just watched us completely freak out. They probably had no idea why. He looked at me. And he said,

What people? I thought he was messing with me. I said the people on the porch. What do you mean? He told me he hadn't seen anyone. As far as he was concerned, the house had been completely dark. Like no one lived there.

He was totally serious. But I had seen lights on inside the house. I had seen the porch light. And I had seen maybe four people sitting on the steps or standing on the porch. All of them watching us with completely straight faces. There's only one of them I can actually remember clearly. A man wearing a white shirt and dark pants with suspenders and what looked at. and what looked like some sort of bowler hat.

I certainly never went back to that house. And as far as I know, neither did he. Do you have a story you want to share with the night drive audience? Then drop me an email at the tape library at Protonmail.com. It takes me quite a long time to get to them, I'm afraid. But I try to include as many of the stories that I'm sent as possible. It's important to document these cases of the strange and the unexplained.

A night drive gives us the opportunity to hear personal accounts from all around the world. Please include as much detail as you can and whatever name you wish to be credited as an email. With that out of the way, let's get into our next case. You can call me Zach. I'm from New Jersey in the States. The accounts and experiences I'll be sharing a little bit scout. coming from different parts of my life, but I'll do my best to piece them together as clearly as I can. To begin, I've never been a religious person.

My father was a complete atheist. He had suffered physical abuse from his own father and lost a brother to drowning at a young age. I suppose it's no surprise that faith didn't hold much meaning for him after that. My mother was raised Catholic, but as an as a bit as a bit of his own, But as an adult, she wasn't a member of a church, nor did she worship privately. I never received any pressure from my parents or anyone else in my family to follow religion. What I did have were parents who were fascinated by the paranormal. And that fascination passed into me at a young age.

My parents rarely censored what I watched or read. I remember seeing poltergeist and the shining as a child. That one haunted me for years. I couldn't use the bathroom without first pulling the shower curtain back to make sure nothing was lurking there. If you know, you know. Despite the fear, something about those stories thrilled me. I used to wonder how cool it might be to see a real ghost,

or at least witness something unexplainable, something that proved the world was stranger than it appeared. When I was about seven or eight, my mother would often go to a weekly bingo club with her friends, leaving me in the care of her sister for a few hours each night. My aunt lived on the second floor of an old apartment building, with a narrow creaking staircase, that led to an unfinished attic. My aunt and uncle weren't the most engaging people. They were kind, of course, but to a curious child,

The building itself fascinated me far more than sitting in front of their television. I would wonder, pretending to explore ancient ruins or search for hidden treasure tucked away in corners and closets. The attic was the most interesting place of all. It was full of old boxes, furniture and odd bits of storage stacked high enough to form corridors that were perfect for a child with an overactive imagination. I'd spend what felt like hours up there, crawling between piles, lost in my little adventures. I never felt anything strange about it until one night. I brought some toy cars with me, planning to race them along the wooden beams, but something about the air felt different.

It was quieter than usual, almost unnaturally so, and I'd be able to be. and I began to feel that feeling of being watched. The sensation grew heavier, like a quiet pressure building around me. It couldn't have been my aunt as she had trouble climbing stairs, and my uncle had already gone to bed. I would have heard either of them long before they reached the top anyway. I remember moving towards the far end of the attic where the large brick chimney supporting the house stood. There was a dark recess between the bricks, almost like a crawl space. I think it might have been where an old exhaust fan was once installed, but I'm not sure.

What I do remember is what changed how I thought about the paranormal. Even as a child with barely any understanding of the world. I heard something. Just a faint click at first. My eyes fixed on the darkness now Alco. and what I saw were two red orbs staring back at me. Unmoving, a black mass in the shadow began to rise, slow and deliberate, and from it came a low, guttural growl.

I ran for the stairs as fast as I could, not daring to look back. I never told anyone about it. I knew they wouldn't take me seriously, but I still wondered. What was that? There were no windows in the attic, no easy access from outside, and the door itself was difficult to reach. It couldn't have been a stray animal, the shape was too human, too large, the sound too unnatural.

We had a dog at home and that growl did not sound like a dog. Needless to say, I never set foot in that attic again. When I was around 10 years old, my family would visit my paternal grandmother every Sunday. She had an even greater fascination with the strange and mysterious, from ancient Egyptian law to medieval legends and mythology. Her apartment was filled with books that could occupy me for hours, even when I didn't understand them all. I found comfort in their mystery.

Sometimes my cousin stayed over, And if we had been closer in age, I think we would have shared the same curiosity. He always seemed to be into monsters, myths and strange and unusual. One day I noticed in my grandmother's bedroom while looking through her books. There was something that caught my attention. A Ouija board tucked away underneath her dresser. I had heard of them but had never seen one in person. I opened the box to look, but before I could examine it, my father's sister walked in.

In the most displeased tone possible, she chastised me, demanding to know where I had found it. She told me I should never mess with things like that, that they only invited evil into your life. She was the only deeply religious member of our immediate family, and her fear seemed genuine. I thought she would take the board away, but instead she left it where it was. Perhaps I'm willing to touch it herself. I thought that maybe it was my cousins, but why would it be under the dresser like that? He had his own room, so it didn't make much sense. Somehow, we ended up taking the board home with us.

Though I honestly can't remember how or why. To my surprise, my mother agreed to you. use it with me one night. We asked harmless questions, things about family history and the like. She could have been moving the planchette for all I know, humouring my curiosity, but it felt real to me at the time. After that night though, I began to feel strange sensations, especially in our basement. Maybe it was just a child's imagination, but there was an energy there that made me uneasy. Ghosts and demons always seemed to like hiding in places like that, at least in the movies and stories. I struggled with insomnia for as long as I can remember, and one night I found myself awake and getting up to go into the kitchen.

The air felt thick, charged, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone. When I turned towards the stove, one of the burners was fully lit. The flames were at full power. I froze, staring just long enough to realise which burner it was and quickly retreating to my room. I then realised I needed to go back and turn it off, knowing it was a fire hazard. When I did finally force myself to go back, the burner was... off, as if nothing happened. The curious thing, no, was that burner was the one that was always missing a knob.

To turn it on, you had to use a pair of pliers. It was too tight to turn with your fingers alone. A few years later in my teens as I befriended a boy from school, and let's call him R. He came from an Indian family that practiced Hinduism, and from time to time he shared. bits of his culture and beliefs with me. He was imaginative like I was, and we often made up our own adventures or role-playing scenarios. One day we got talking about my experiences

with the Ouija board. He told me that Western boards were dangerous, that they invited unwanted energies, but he knew a safe version, one that invokes more positive entities to answer questions. He took a sheet of paper, wrote the alphabet and numbers across it, and said that instead of calling upon any spirit, we'd focused on something he called Mr Planchet. I think it was his own misheard version of Planchette, but I'd digress. We used it to ask questions about the future, treating it like a game of fortune-telling. I don't recall the answers we got but soon after I experienced something unsettling. One evening while home was sitting in the kitchen while a coffee maker suddenly turned on. The power switch clicked, the light came on and the

machine began to heat. I jumped up, turned it off and just stood there for a moment. The same familiar unease settling in. After that I decided it might be better. to avoid any spirit balls of any kind going forward. Maybe all that changed was my awareness of these things, but I'm not sure. Something pushed a switch that day, and it was clear as day. Another time, while visiting my maternal grandparents' grave,

I needed to find a restroom. A groundskeeper directed me to a large stone building at the centre of the cemetery, part office, part mausoleum, perhaps. It wasn't something I ever investigated. Inside, as I was leaving, the same odd feeling crept over me, much like that night in the attic years ago. My hair stood on end, and I somehow knew exactly where it was coming from. There was a staircase descending into darkness, completely unlit.

It felt like something was waiting there, or worse, calling me to come closer. Whatever that energy was it wanted me to approach had to send those stairs. I didn't. I turned and left without saying a word to anyone. In my twenties I reconnected with an old childhood friend and his girlfriend, both also interested in the paranormal. His mother and her fiancé had even started their own paranormal group that would regularly perform investigations.

A night the three of us decided to investigate a local legend, known as Annie's Road, a stretch of roads said to be haunted by the spirit of a girl who lost her life there years earlier. We brought her a recorder and a camcorder, trying our best to play amateur investigators. Nothing much happened that night, but there was one strange moment. I remember a sudden silence. None of us spoke and for a few seconds it felt like my mind had gone blank. It was like a melancholy veil washed over us, something that we had trouble explaining. Later when we listened to the audio recording, we all heard it.

A soft, clear-as-day whisper in a girl's voice saying, wrong way. I've since lost that file. It was 16 years ago or so and I'll never forget how excited and honestly how shocked we were. Like was that moment a strange silence where this supposed spirit found her way close enough to us to pass on a message. We had attempted a second visit to the road but there was no activity to be had. Not long after that my father passed away suddenly from a heart attack while on a hunting trip upstate New York. His death brought much chaos into my small family's lives. It made me feel hollow. In the months that followed I turned to urban exploring, searching abandoned places

as a way to escape the grief. Probably one of the strangest coping mechanisms I've heard of, but grief does weird things to you. The interest in the paranormal was still there, lingering at the edges of my mind. And it was more so the sense of the skull, that drew me in. One winter night a few friends and I decided to explore an abandoned asylum in New York, one that, of course, was said to be haunted. For the sake of privacy I won't reveal its name. I think part of it is still in use today. It was well below freezing, the air sharp and dry. The place was supposed to have tunnels beneath it connecting the old buildings, a network for maintenance workers, or maybe a way to move unseen between wards.

It was a Kirkbride building, and I can imagine that they take whatever measures they could to avoid workers moving around their business and distracting the patients. We found the tunnels and decided to explore, which pitched dark, cold and silent. At one point in the second building, a friend and I both stopped. He claims he heard something and I knew I felt something. He said we should leave and though the others thought he was being paranoid, I agreed. We convinced them to follow as we turned back the way we came. He shut one of the heavy blast doors in the tunnel behind us.

There was a kind of valve or similar locking mechanism on one side, our side. We closed it and as we approached the stairs at the far end of our side. tunnel we all heard it there was a single loud fud against the door so sudden and violent that we all froze we got out of there quickly I still don't know what caused it if it had been a person like another explorer following us we would have heard footsteps breathing anything but the tunnels were silent it was far below freezing so without proper clothing no Nobody would have lasted long in there, so it couldn't have been someone hiding out in the building.

I remember how much my hands hurt from the cold even through my heavy-duty gloves. And as far as ambient sounds, there weren't any that could have confused us, let alone mimic that metallic bang in the tunnel. The final experience I'll mention didn't happen to me but to my mother. After the incident with Annie's Road and the later asylum trip, I remember talking to talking about some of these past experiences with my mother. She stopped for a moment and surprisingly decided to share something strange of her own with me. She said that ever since she was a little girl, her parents would take her and my aunt to their cabin that they had in Norwich, Vermont.

For a time they lived there, but at some point moved to New Jersey and would make occasional visits back. Now the story she shared was a strange one. She insisted that one night in winter, her father was away on his own hunting trip, so it was just her, my aunt and their mother. She said she awoke in the middle of the night. She couldn't explain why but she felt something wake her. Whatever it was compelled her to go to the main room of the cabin near the entry.

She suddenly had a feeling of intense fear. She heard something outside of the door, something she knew as someone walking in the snow. Whoever it was approached the cabin. She ran into her room where her sister was fast asleep and hid under the covers. For some reason my aunt apparently did not awaken. My mother then said she heard the front door open slightly, despite being locked. What happens next is so outlandish to me that it freaks me out. in it whether or not it happened. She explained that she peaked out from under the covers,

hearing the door steps coming closer to their room. The door had then opened, and what she saw was some kind of being that she could only describe as a devil. She said it had horns and it approached her, slowly walking step by step to her bed. It touched her forehead, said nothing and turned to leave. She was so scared she stayed hidden under the covers until she fell asleep. But she said she couldn't bring herself to scream or wake her mother or my aunt, like something prevented her from reacting. She then said when morning came, she saw fading footprints in the snow.

partially covered due to the snow drifting in the wind in the night. She was told that she had some sort of nightmare, and her mother insisted that the footprints were likely a hunter friend of her husband's, who may have tried to seek shelter in the night. I find it strange that my grandmother didn't feel more startled, that there were indeed footprints in the snow leading to their house, but I suppose it was a different time back then. This would have been in the 1950s

Even if it were just a nightmare my mother had It feels oddly specific And for a little girl barely seven years old To have such a vivid account Before these things were in wide-stream media She claimed she didn't even have a television As they were still expensive for them to afford It just feels like she couldn't have had the influence on such things

I still don't know what to make of it We have not discussed the paranormal together since. I tried to stay grounded about things like this. I look for practical explanations first. But I also accept that not everything has one. I don't know what all these moments mean, if they mean anything at all. I just know they've stayed with me, and that sometimes the unknown feels closer than we like to omit.

There are things about this world and universe that I think we simply can't comprehend. Whatever is out there in these mysterious parts of our reality are things that I've stopped trying to go looking for. Where some see heroes and others see egos, Bloomberg sees the era of billionaire athletes. A fad to some, the future of money to others. We see crypto's trillion dollar swings The end of jobs Or the end of human struggle We see the endless funds

fueling the AI hype While others follow the noise We follow the money Learn more at Bloomberg.com When Westcham first took flight in 1996 The vibes were a bit different People thought denim on denim was peak fashion Inline skates were everywhere

And two out of three women rocked the Rachel While those things stayed in the the 90s, one thing that hasn't is that fuzzy feeling you get when WestJet welcomes you on board. Here's to Westjetting since 96. Travel back in time with us and actually travel with us at westjet.com slash 30 years. If you want to hear more of these stories, please be sure to click subscribe or follow to make sure you are notified every time a new episode is posted. We've got time for one last case tonight, so let's get into it.

Just as a pre-warning, the story does contain references to a Before I begin to describe my incidents with the darkness and accompany in dark figure, I need to explain some things about my childhood that I believe hold relevant to my very real experiences with the dark visitor who I continue to see and feel. When I was a child, I was physically, mentally and emotionally severely abused, but my alcoholic and prescription tranquilizer addicted mother, it was a daily occurrence for her to beat me and berate me. I was small for my age, and in the 1970s, long before there was a connotation of ADHD, I surely had it. I did poorly in school. I was bullied relentlessly by my classmates, which only added to my mother's furious, hateful behaviour towards me. My grandmother lived with us, and we were the poorest of the poor, living in a very old roach and rat-infested tenement building in Hartford, Connecticut. Grandma and a couple of best friends with wonderful families were all that I had in my life during those years.

Grandma tried to protect me from my mother's attacks, and my friends and I attempted to stick up for each other at school when the bullies would torment us, but all was found out. My existence at school and in my ghetto apartment were miserable times for me. On certain occasions my mother's attacks ended with her still enraged when she finished her beating. going to her room and slamming the door continuously. Other times she would end her beating suddenly and the expression on her face would become more tranquil

as if a switch were flipped and she would either walk to her room calmly or leave the house to go get further drunk at a nearby bar. Then there were the nights where I would be sleeping in the middle of the night she would quietly come into my room and beat me while I was still in bed. when she finished, again, like a switch being flipped, she quietly exited my room and went back to her own. Over the years I've experienced night terrors that contain flashbacks to my mother's vicious tendencies.

During these night terrors I am transported in every sense of the word to my childhood home in that detestable apartment, fully experiencing my mother's brutality once again. I could feel the environment, smell the aromas in the air, see every detail of my surroundings, and hear every nasty insult my mother screamed into my face as she physically attacked me. On one such occasion, I was at my then best friend John's house and a sleepover, and my body went into physical shock, with my temperature shooting up to over 103 degrees. John's parents got me to the bathtub and poured cold water over me and dumped ice into the tub and I soaked in the freezing water until such a time that my temperature came back down to a normal level.

I had the unfortunate fate of having frequent night terrors all my life, so I knew them very well. The vivid nature of them and the totality of immersion that was involved and how I could not wake up from it until it was finished. I have a strong understanding of the mechanics involved sleep paralysis as well. Since this is also included in these incidents, I tell you all this so that you have the proper context, that I have extensive experience and knowledge of the scientific background involved with my flashback night terrors. Last year I finally wrote my autobiography of my childhood years

and it gave me a tremendous feeling of relief and closure. I felt as if the act of writing it freed me somehow. And indeed, for almost the past year, I have been night terror and negative experience free. Almost. Last month, a random night at 3am, I awoke and sat straight up in bed. I was certain there was someone in the bedroom with me. I stared ahead and saw a dark figure that I could partially see through. Before I had time to react, the figure became solid. and blacker than any black I have ever seen before. It grabbed me by the upper arm and lifted me up. My body no longer in contact with the bed or floor.

The entity punched me with the other hand in a fist. That felt as strong as my mother's when she used to hurt me in the same way. After what seemed like a minute, but probably wasn't. The mysterious figure vanished, causing me to fall to the floor. Now, for context, as well as for those who are looking to provide a reasonable explanation for what I experienced, I live on the fourth floor of an apartment building in Washington, D.C., and there is a concierge at the lobby desk at all times. No one could come or go without their knowing it, and no one was allowed past the desk without signing in,

and the resident contacted to inform them as someone was there to see them. Also my door knob lock and deadbolt lock were still engaged on my apartment door. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that this was real. This was not a night terror, not sleep paralysis. I was fully awake and forced to endure something scarier than anything I have ever experienced in my life. I went back to beds and of course didn't sleep. My heart continued racing, barely having slowed down since the ordeal began. I stared at the ceiling, trying to grasp what had happened.

I had no answers, but when I woke up, I had solid evidence of the event's reality. I went to the bathroom at around 6am and looked in the mirror, seeing marks on my arm. It was five individual bruises, where the entity had grabbed me and lifted me up. Then I looked at my ribs and they were severely bruised and sore. The adrenaline of the incident had prevented me from feeling the ribcage pain of my attacker's fist. I took photos of my injuries so that I had a record of it to show. Whom? I didn't know. I just knew I was glad to have actual evidence.

So what was this? Was it at least partially responsible for my mother's attacks on me when I was a child? Did it possess or otherwise control her at times? Why was it coming after me now, after all these years? Was this attack a result of my having written about my childhood? Did this entity become angry that I was calling attention to it? Regarding answers, one thing was certain. I wasn't going to get them through some sort of rational explanations.

I could dismiss the rib bruises and my thrashing around if I was having another night terror. But it was no explaining the ham. imprint bruises of the thing's individual fingers on my arm, facing the opposite direction from that which could be explained as me grasping my arm in my sleep. Almost a week went by without incident. Then, on the sixth night at 3am, the entity returned. This time it only held me down on the bed, giving a feeling of being enveloped by blackness, rather than being grabbed or held down by hands.

Again, I was fully awake and experiencing this. And it was over rather quickly, but I was of course terrified. So I decided to visit the spiritualist. When I entered the spiritualist shop, as a walking client and the proprietor had no knowledge of any information beforehand, I approached a lady who greeted me and she took a physical step back.

before I could even complete my sentence about needing some help or even alluding to what was going on she interrupted me and said I'm sorry I know why you're here and I can't help you I tried to interject and she only repeated again that she couldn't help me and grasped the necklace that she was wearing to say that I was stunned would be saying the least

what could be going on that was so bad that a psychic spiritualist wanted nothing to do of it. I was dumbfounded, but determined to find answers. I visited another psychic whose shop was closed due to building renovations, but she was taking phone calls and she scheduled an appointment for me the next day. I wanted to be sure that I was talking to a genuine spiritualist, so I asked her to tell me something about me, though it couldn't be explained away by cold or hot reading.

She said, there is a very dark presence surrounding you. And I said, okay, wow, yeah, well I guess we're going to get right into it, aren't we? She replied, this dark figure is very dangerous. And I asked her if it was a demon. But she said, no, it wasn't. It was something else. not of this plane of existence. I asked her what I should do

and she told me to get Holy Water, bless the apartment and myself with it and then discard the Holy Water container somewhere away from the building. I asked why use Holy Water if it was not a demon and she replied that Holy Intervention often has a positive effect

on many paranormal occurrences and it's the best place to start. I did as she instructed, and also then consulted with yet a know psychic spiritualist, who, after correctly stating the address of my childhood home without any fishing questions or any information from me, she then said, with a note of concern in her voice, that the age of the building made it very likely for paranormal occurrences. She told me that not only was there this single entity, but other different entities that appeared to be working with or helping the main entity.

She said there were five of these other entities, possibly more. She also reiterated that Holy Water Blessing was the best way forward and was pleased that I had already completed it to task. So for the past few weeks there was no unexplainable occurrences. But more than once I felt a presence in the apartment, even during daytime hours. Then after a long hiatus, I had an actual night's error. This one was different. I wasn't being beaten, it was me just laying there, feeling the pain of one of my mother's

attacks, welts and bruises covering many areas of my body, and I felt I couldn't move or the pain would be worse. I woke from the night terror, less affected by this one, but still sweating profusely, but my heartbeat racing. The next night I woke at 3am to fill with blackness all around me once again, and I could hear overlapping sounds that could be voices, or could be something else. When the blackness cleared, I found myself back at my childhood apartment building, in the hallway. Mind you, this was not a night terror. I was awake and physically there. Many of the buildings of my childhood street were condemned, and then after detaching the front face of the buildings,

they demolished all but the fronts and built new buildings behind the front brick facades. typically called a facade on me. There are no pictures of the hallways of the buildings online since the renovation. Only pics of the outside and the apartments. But I can tell you exactly what those newish hallways look like. Now here is the most crazy part of this whole ordeal. I was enveloped once again by the blackness. And when I awoke, I was somewhere that I couldn't immediately recognise.

Disorientated I tried to get my bearings. After a moment I realised I was standing in my underwear and t-shirt, about a half block away from my apartment building. As it's a secure building, you need a special fob to unlock the front door, which I didn't have, so the concierge had to buzz me in. After looking into how it was possible for me to leave the building, I confirmed that there were only three exits that I knew of. The front door, the side door and the basement door, all of which have cameras for motion sensors that record anything moving in the area. There is zero evidence that I left the building, not through the basement door, the side door or the front door. Yet there I was. Outside just after three in the morning, after going to bed that night around 11.30. fast forward to last night around 9.30pm. I was sitting in the living room watching TV

when I saw that down the hallway past the bathroom. The bedroom was very dark, unnaturally so. I got up and walked in and saw that the two windows that look out across the back area of the building had plenty of moon and ambient light, street lamps and other illumination. This plus the light pouring in the bedroom door from the rest of the apartment

meant that the bedroom should have been lit up enough that it wasn't in total darkness yet there just wasn't any light in the room. I have a series of large Star Wars movie posters on the wall of the bedroom, all of which are framed in poster frames with clear reflective plastic. You should always, even when it's dark at night, still have enough ambient and other light to see a reflection of a person standing in front of these poster frames. I have other displays in the room,

including clear plastic boxes to protect collector shoes, also with the ability to see reflections. But there were none. The room was so black that there were no reflections, not even any other shadows. I took a photo of it and then another immediately after. The first pick shows exactly what I'm seeing, no reflections. Then the second photo, taken seconds later, as the room started to return to normal,

showed the reflections as they should be, but not totally as lit as it should be still. There was still some extra darkness present. I took a third photo, and the room was back to normal. About an hour and a half later, once again the room started to unnaturally darken in spite of all the light sources around, and this time the air was heavy, as if it weren't from this plain or realm of existence. I watched as it became black as a cavern in a few seconds. I felt around for the light switch and turned on the ceiling light. Nothing. The darkness was so thick and unnatural, the light couldn't penetrate the blackness. The smell in the air was that of heavy ozone.

I immediately got dressed and left the apartment to stay in a hotel. Nothing strange happened in the hotel, thankfully. But when I returned to the apartment, I found the bedroom door had apparently been slammed and the ACDC poster that was on the door was now on the floor. I walked into the bedroom and found my shoe collection, had been thrown from storage racks, and all my shoes were strewn around the room on the floor on top of the bed and other furniture. The smell of ozone is still in the air.

I don't know what to do next about all of this, but I'm terrified. I will write a follow-up if I experienced anything else. That story was submitted by Dave. I have reached out to him. Hopefully we can get an update on him and find out if anything has happened since. Thank you to everyone.

everyone who submitted their stories. I hope you all enjoyed them. As always please feel free to share your thoughts and theories in the comments below, but please keep in mind that people in these stories are likely to read your words, so please keep it respectful. Or if you have an experience you would like to share with the community, why not leave that below too? It always creates some interesting conversations. It's time for me to leave you to the night. but I will be back very soon. Thank you for tuning in. This has been Night Drive Paranormal.

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