The Tape Library - Archive of the Paranormal & the Unexplained - Night Drive Paranormal | Real Life Encounters with the Shadow Men

Episode Date: March 26, 2026

Welcome back. Tonight’s episode of Night Drive Paranormal will be taking us into a very shadowy realm indeed. 5 brand new real life tales of the paranormal await you on this drive. 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 something feels close… 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 01:00 Case 1 07:39 Case 2 36:02 Case 3 40:25 Case 4 43:41 Case 5 48:30 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

You've heard ghost stories, but not like these. These are the ones we were told to never share. Now I'm breaking the silence. Welcome to Lodgetails coming to you from Spectrevision Radio. I'm your host, Rod Williamson. I grew up on the Blackfeet Reservation, where the past doesn't stay buried, where little people and shadow people walk, where UFOs hover over the sacred lands,

where Bigfoot isn't the only thing stalking Indian country, where our ancestors still speak. Here we bring you never before shared accounts of reservation hauntings, tribal cryptids, UFO encounters, and spirit warnings our ancestors left behind. These come from all tribes across North America and beyond. They aren't just campfire tales. These are living histories. Subscribe to Lodgetales where Sacred meets the supernatural.

Thank you for tuning in once again to know. night drive paranormal. This is the show where we get together for around an hour each month, and I share with you all some of the terrifying paranormal encounters you have all shared with me. I try my best to read out everyone's stories as they were written, in the experience's own words. Whatever your beliefs, if you choose to believe these stories or not, the people who submitted these all claim that the events really happened. If they were truly paramed, if they were truly paramed, Or if there's a more logical explanation, well, that's for you to decide. Now, let's get into case number one.

I have been fascinated by the paranormal since I was a small child and would describe myself as an open-minded skeptic. I will always look for a logical explanation before writing something off as paranormal. Which is why what I saw on that particular evening, still baffles me to this day. Despite my lifelong interest in the paranormal, this remains the only experience I have had that I would label as unexplainable. For starters, it did not take place in a creepy, secluded location, or a haunted property like I always imagined a paranormal encounter would. It happened on a main road in the city of London during rush hour. I was 23 years old,

and had not long been working for a law firm in the London Bridge area. I hated it. I knew very early on that I was not meant for office work. I found it suffocating and depressing. However, as a Londoner, I loved being in the buzz of the city all the same. I lived in the northwest suburbs, so I would walk back up to Moregate Station to get the Metropolitan Line home. I would head up Bishop's Gate and then cut through onto Old Bridge.

Broad Street, crossing at the junction onto London Wall, where a small church called All Hallows on the Wall sits on the corner. This is a heaving busy junction with traffic lights. Classic old buildings are dwarfed by new ones, and this little church looks quite delicate amongst all modernity. Behind the church is its churchyard, which runs adjacent to the pavement of London Wall. You have to go up a few steps to reach a paved area with a couple of benches, and neat raised flower beds, where city workers would sit with their coffees, or balance a salad on their

laps during their lunch breaks. I had left the office not long after 5pm, desperate to get out of there and decompressed on the commute home. It was November, and by then it was already pretty dark at that time of day. I did the usual trudge up towards London Wall, joining the swaves of other trench coat-clad commuters, wondering how I had become one of them. I reached a junction and crossed onto the north side as usual. I happened to glance up into the churchyard, now on my right, and noticed someone sitting

on one of the benches only metres away. Nothing unusual about that, you might think. However, what first struck me was the unusually shaped hat the person was wearing. It was tall, but not like a top hat. The brim was too wide. Again this was London and fashion-wise anything goes. So it was not exactly an out of the ordinary sight. Still, I chuckled to myself as the overall silhouette reminded me of the

Papa Lazaro character from the cult show The League of Gentlemen. As I stole another quick glance, something compelled me to stop in my tracks. I realised that this figure was completely black and completely still. I could make out no detail whatsoever of a face or the colour of any clothing. There was no fidgeting, no shifting of weight, and no breeze moved in the long hair falling from unethical.

under the hat. I felt as though my brain was malfunctioning or my eyes were not working properly. Could it be a quirky sculpture placed there as art? But with all the street lighting, the lights from the cars crawling past, and the glow from office windows, how has there no reflection or patched this thing remotely lit up? I looked around to see if anyone else was noticing this figure. But bizarrely there was not one other other person walking along that stretch of London Wall at that time. It was honestly the blackest thing I've ever seen, a black hole in the shape of a person sitting on a bench. Now I have watched, read and listened to enough about the paranormal to know that a sight such as this,

a black figure, black mass or black mist, is usually accompanied by a sense of dread or described as pure evil, but that was not the case for me. I was genuinely overwhelmed by confusion, to the point that I could barely remember how to put one foot in front of the other, as I walked the rest of the way back towards Morgate, trying to make sense of what I had just seen. Years later, while retelling this story, I decided to look up whether there were any recorded sightings of ghosts or paranormal activity around all hallows on the wall. My search turned up nothing related to the paranormal. However, on the Wikipedia page under a notable parishioners section

was the name Robert Woodford, a renowned diarist who covered the period 1637 to 1641. It's worth noting that Robert was also a devout puritan, which made me think about the hat the figure was wearing, tall and wide-brimmed, just like one a 17th century Puritan would have worn. If any other listeners have had paranormal experiences in or around all hallows on the wall, I would be keen to know. I cannot quite believe that I will have been the only person to witness something around,

this deeply historical part of the city. If you've been listening to my episodes that have come out in the last month or two, you will maybe understand why I was so excited to share that story with you all. Doesn't it sound like a certain Shadow Man we've been talking about? Before we get into our next story tonight, if you have a case you would like to hear read out on I Drive, you can find my email address in the description of every episode. It sometimes takes me a long time to get to them,

but I try to read out as many as I can. Now, on to Case 2. First, some background info. I was born in a coastal town here in the UK called Eastbourne. My mum was born and raised in Switzerland, and she and my dad moved to the UK in the late 1970s, after my sister was born. I was born in 1980, but a few years afterwards, my dad, who was very abusive, left our family when I was about three.

My mum raised my sister and I alone, often having to work too much. having to work two jobs to pay off our home bills and all the debts that my dad left us with. I think the fights and abuse in our household made for an unhappy home in the early years. Perhaps a psychologist would blame that solely for what I'm about to tell you. Saying everything I'm about to recount was a figment of a troubled young boy's imagination. And I for one can not honestly discount that. All I can say is that everything I'm about to tell you, 100% happened to me. Was it real? Hallucination, dreams. I cannot honestly say. But the memories I have are as crisp and clear today, as if they happened yesterday,

as you'll be able to tell from the details I provide. Now, a lot of people don't believe me when I say this, but my earliest memories go right back to me being in the cot, so I must have been pre-toddler. I remember sleeping and being woken up by someone shouting my name, Simon, but not in a nice way, in a horrible, sudden, harsh kind of way. This would wake me up, and I remember laying there too scared to move, with my heart pounding. My mum has since told me she used to come into the bedroom where my cot was, and find me laying face down with my knees tucked into my chest, bottom in the air, and my head buried under the pillow.

This struck her as a bit strange, but I was a big baby, so she simply attributed this to just being some kind of post-birth behaviour, or having tight hips or something. However, she would often pick me up to feed me in my bottle, and I would hold up the bottle over her shoulder, looking towards the corner of the room. My mum would ask, who are you offering the bottle to?

to which I would reply Bama Bama To which she ascribed as meaning Badman Badman Later as my speech progressed From that of a toddler to a child

I would frequently refer to the beings As the black men This continued up until the age of about four When the nightmares began And would continue right up until we moved out of the house when I was about 10 years old in 1990. Also, just to set the scene, I had a bunk bed in my bedroom at the time. I always slept on the bottom bunk and threw my toys a mess on top,

but it was pushed right up against the wall. I'll mention this now because it will be relevant later on, but on the other side of that wall was mum's bedroom, with her headboard pushed right up against the opposite side of the same wall. So, about the nightmares. Now I put that word in abbreviated commas because to this day, I'm unsure what was real, what was a nightmare, or what actually happened. This was compounded by the fact that I would often wake up in the middle of the night, have an experience or see something, then roll over and cocoom myself in my duvet in a desperate attempt to protect myself and feel safe. I was too scared to do anything else.

Mum would often come into my bedroom in the morning to find me totally wrapped up, like a little cigar. By the time morning arrived, I would have no idea if it was simply a dream, or if I genuinely saw what I saw. Often in the middle of the night, I would see two figures. I had a streetlight just outside my bedroom window, so even though the curtains were drawn, a faint glow would still pay. permeate the bedroom. I would see this pair

just standing there in the corner of the room. Both were completely black. No hats or glowing eyes or anything. Just black. One of them was very tall and had a longer, more oval kind

of head. The one standing next to it was shorter, stockier and had a much more rounder head. I would have repetitive nightmare starting once or twice a week, then increasing over the years to about three to four times a week. They had slight deviations but would always follow this central pattern. The dream often begins with me walking down our road with my mum, and we've just been out shopping or something.

We're just getting to our front door. I look up and the sky seems really red, far redder than it should be, and the clouds are moving across. the sky really fast. This red sky and the fast-moving clouds fill me with a sense of dread and foreboding. I urge my mum to get into the house as quick as possible. As soon as she opens the door and we get inside, she's suddenly not there anymore. I'm alone. I move upstairs. The house is filled with that kind of gloom a house has when it starts to get dark outside, not completely light, not completely dark. I run upstairs to my bedroom and slam the door shut.

I look out the window and the sky is still red and the clouds are now moving even faster across the sky. I move back across to the closed door and try the light switch on the wall next to it. Nothing. This is one of their telltale signs. Their way of telling me that they are here. I then have a feeling that I'll simply refer to. as the dread. It's like an electric wave of tingling fear

and goosebumps all over my skin that creeps up the back of my neck and kind of washes all over me. It was a very specific feeling. It was like goosebumps, but just far more intense and scarier. Sometimes invariance of the dream, I would start the dream in my bedroom,

but one surefire way of knowing that they were in the house was the light switch not working, followed by the dread. Now it's completely dark. I open the door and I feel compelled to walk across the landing to the top of the stairs. Almost like I was obeying some kind of pre-programmed sequence. We had a straight staircase with the wall on one side and a banster on the other side. As I stand at the top looking down, the staircase disappears into complete darkness at the

bottom. I can hear them, whispering. I can't make out what they're saying. Then suddenly the dread would wash over me again, and I'd have an indescribable urge to jump off the top of the stairs into the darkness. I jump and I'm falling and falling. As I fall, my momentum slows, and I'm turned mid-air so that my back is now facing the bottom of the stairs and I can just see the faint gloom at the top of the stairs from where I've just jumped. As my momentum slows even more, two arms suddenly reach out from the darkness, wrapped themselves around my waist and pull me into the dark. At that moment I would wake up, sometimes screaming, always terrified. I'm quite sure those were nightmares, but other nights

things started escalating. I'd be laying in my bed. Suddenly I'd wake up and feel the dread. I'd roll over to find one of them, kneeling next to my bed. I'm now paralysed, I can't move, I can't scream. This sometimes happened in other experiences. I refer to this as being deactivated. This thing would pill back the sheets, pick up my limp body and carry me across the landing. down the stairs into the dark. I remember one time it had carried me downstairs and was walking me towards the kitchen. I remember looking up and trying to scream as hard as I could,

but nothing would come out. Even though this thing had no face, I could somehow tell that it was smiling and not in a nice way. One other encounter or dream started the typical way. The dread. the non-functioning light switch. Then as I walk out onto the landing,

I heard a commotion from my sister's room. Some kind of movement, no voices or anything, but a kind of muffled, thrashing about kind of sound. Like someone in bed having a convulsion or something like that. I remember walking up to my sister's bedroom door

which was closed. Taking a deep breath, I kicked the door open and screamed, leave her alone. and just charge forward with all my might. As I lurched forward, the room is completely black. I can't see a thing, but I fall into this... This creature.

Its body feels almost like a rubbery latex mask. You know the kind you get at Halloween. I can feel bumps, lumps and boils all over it. As I remember it now, I almost think of rugby tackling into something like a dry toad. It was really weird. Not human, but here's the thing. The moment I made contact with it, I was totally deactivated again.

I went completely limp and immobile. It scooped me up in its arms and began moving back towards the door. And that's all I remember from that one. Other nights I'd be in my bedroom And suddenly I'd receive a really horrible short sharp poke Straight in the back or in the ribs But the hand that would jab me didn't come out of the open sides of my bed It came from the wall

These horrible pokes were so real You know that feeling if someone jabs you really hard and you can still feel it a little while afterwards That hot fuzzy kind of a feeling in your skin. I'd have that for a good five to ten minutes after they jabbed me, laying there, feeling the sensation of my skin, completely terrified with my heart pounding. Then came one of the most visceral experiences that I'd ever had with them. One night I'm laying in bed and the dread comes over me. I could feel something coming out of the wall and sliding across the mattress towards me. It was the hand. Suddenly I, I don't know where I got the courage from,

but I remember thinking, oh no you don't, not tonight. I turned, grabbed a hand with my left hand, a bit into it. To this day, I remember the feeling of my teeth sinking into its flesh, the feeling of the skin breaking under my teeth. The hand struggling. The hand struggling. obviously in pain, shaking and trying to pull it back into the wall. My teeth penetrating the surface, but no blood. All of this in just a few seconds. I let go and the hand retreats back into the wall. Heart pounding I turn and eventually fall back asleep. I only remember two occasions where I ever effectively fought back against them. The hand-biting incident was one and this is the other. I must have been about seven years old at this point. It was summer

so I wasn't sleeping in my pyjamas. Instead I was just sleeping in my underwear and nothing else. By now mum was fully aware of the nightmares so she would leave the landing light on outside my room and leave my door partially open. I didn't have a nightlight or anything so this meant that some light could enter my room, which I found comforting. On this night I wake up from my sleep to see one of them by my bed. It began to pull aside the covers, perhaps intending again to carry me off to God knows where. I was suddenly overcome with this intense rage and leapt at it as it tried to pull the cover off. I must have taken it by surprise because normally by now I would been deactivated. I'm now straddling it, sitting on top of it and raining down punch after

punch towards its head. It's trying to cover its head defensively with its arms, but I'm just totally berserking out on this thing. And then all of a sudden, it just kind of dissolves. It physically became less dense until it just disappeared completely. To this day, I remember the little plonk sensation as I fell through where its body was and landed on my bedroom carpet, breathlessly panting away from the exertion. All of a sudden, I remember feeling really silly and self-conscious, because I'm just kneeling there in the middle of my room in nothing but my underwear. But with that embarrassment, also a feeling of being mightily pleased with myself. I went back to bed, waking up the following morning, wondering if it had been real, or just a dream.

Years later, my wife and I sat down with my mum one evening and this topic about the black men came up. My mum then told me a whole other side to the story, which I previously had no idea about. This is her side of the story. At the time, with all these experiences going on, my mum at the time was beside herself. As I said before, she would often come into my room at night or in the morning to find me totally cocooned in my duvet. However, other nights, she'd be woken up in the middle of the night to hear me screaming. At its peak, which was around the ages from about six to eight years old, these terrors would

occur about three to four times a week. but generally occurred at least once a month. A few times she'd wake up in the middle of the night, for seemingly no reason. Go to my room to check on me, and I wouldn't be there. She'd rush through the house in a panic looking for me, only to find me on the floor of the kitchen or the dining room,

just sitting there in the dark. I have no memory of these particular occurrences. Times being what they were, single women didn't have the support they have a very, available from social services today. And my mum was terrified that if the authorities became aware of what was going on They would try and take me and my sister away However, things would continue to get stranger

My mum would be washing up at the sink Only to glance up and catch a quick whoosh of movement Outside the kitchen window impossibly fast She'd go outside and there'd be nothing there Another night she woke up see a strange black squiggly ball hovering over her bed. It literally looked like a black squiggly ball, like a child had scribbled a black ball on a sheet of paper, but it was 3D and

kind of moving and writhing about. It passed over her and threw the wall into my bedroom, which was on the other side. These experiences and the often fraught nights were starting to take their toll. One afternoon my mum and her best friend at the time, Rommy, was sat down together having a cup of tea. I remember Rommy well. She and my mum knew each other from way back when they both lived in Switzerland and Rommy's daughters, Heidi and Crystal, would often walk me to school. Anyway, as my mum tells it, she must have been looking practically haggard after a rough night because Rommy commented that my mum looked exhausted, asking if everything was all right.

My mum tried to pass off the comment, but Rommi knew my mum too well and pressed the issue. At that point my mum broke down and told her everything, the night terrors I was having, the bad dreams and shadow figures that I had encountered and her own unusual experiences. To her surprise, Romy believed everything she recounted. She told my mum that years back in Switzerland, she had known a group of Romani people who used to travel from village to village, and one of them was a young woman with the gift, as she said it, the ability to see and commune with the realm beyond ours. She had been told back then of encounters people had with shadow beings, and Romney now knew

a woman from a spiritualist church with similar abilities. She would speak to her and get her to contact my mum. A few days later the phone rang, and this lady spoke to my mum at length, eventually arranging a house call. When the doorbell rang, my mum opened it to find a young woman standing there at the front door, identifying herself as the woman from the phone call. As they spoke at the front door, my mum invited her in, but the woman looked suddenly nervous. She made her excuses and left, telling my mum that she'd phone again, which she did later

at night. During the conversation, she told my mum that as they were conversing at the front door, she glanced over my mum's shoulder to see a terrible black creature clinging to the edge between the wall and ceiling. It suddenly seemed to see her, and it shot its gaze directly at knowing that such entities were able to sense those who could see them, she backed away, not prepared for the intensity of the encounter. Apparently these beings have the ability to latch on to such people as herself. However, she was able to confirm that there definitely was an entity and it definitely wasn't friendly. She would return, but with a friend of hers in attendance, and after having made extra efforts to prepare and protect herself.

In the meantime, she gave Mum the location of a crystal shop in town and told her to speak with the shop owner. She would call ahead and tell him to expect her. A few days later, my mum found the shop and walked inside. It was a typical, spiritualist kind of shop, selling crystals, charms, incense and that kind of thing. An older gentleman behind the counter asked Mum, if she was looking for anything in particular

and mum told him that she had been told to pay him a visit he indeed had been informed about her visit and invited mum to the back of the shop as my mum went through the beaded curtains he pulled out an old-looking book and started a leaf through the pages there he said is this what your son has been seeing

my mum went pale when she looked at the page to see the image of several dark, shadowy figures. Some had glowing eyes. One wore a hat. Mum confirmed what we both had been experiencing to that point and another home visit was quickly arranged. The following week both the young woman and the older man from the shop had returned and this time they both entered. Mom took them upstairs to meet me and apparently I was sat in the middle of my bedroom on my own playing with my toys which I often did. I don't remember this meeting. After exchanging a few pleasantries, the gentleman discreetly asked my mum if she could ask me to leave the house. As it was a nice day outside,

mum told me to go and take my toys out to the garden and play there, which I did. At this point, the woman turned to my mum and suddenly her tone became very grave. There's a portal right there, said, pointing to the wall next to my bed. There are several entities coming from there. It's possible that someone at some point in this house may have used a Ouija board and not close the connection properly. They've chosen that spot as it lies directly between your bedroom, in your sons, she continued. It's a pivotal point between mother and son. They're feeding off the negative emotions in this house. As they feed, they get stronger. and are able to manifest themselves more.

The more they do so, the more fear they can generate, which in turn gives them more energy to feed on. One of them is very close to permanently latching onto your son. If that happens, it will follow him for the rest of his life, piggybacking onto everything he does. We'll do what we can here to weaken them. But the only way to stop this from permanently affecting your children is to get your family out of this house.

The warning resonated with my mum, as not long afterwards we left the house and the town permanently. In our new house in Crawley, West Sussex, my mum ensured that the local parish priest came over to bless and cleanse the house before we moved in. And I'm glad to say that it worked. As soon as we left that house, the nightmares, the encounters all stopped. Mostly. On occasion, if I'm particularly stressed or if something big is going on in my life,

I might still encounter them in my dreams. Not so long ago I had a nightmare of being in my bed, and all of a sudden, something extremely strong grabbed the duvet and started dragging it off the bed. I pulled back, but the being was insanely strong and went in the tug of war before I woke up in a panic. I knew immediately who it was. They have a very specific energy about them, almost like a calling card. So I know if I've just had a generic kind of nightmare, or if I've had an encounter with one of them.

The only experience I've left out so far is one of the most unusual that I must have had at roughly nine or ten years old. Not that long before we moved away. I remember waking up and feeling the dread, testing the light switch, not working. I moved to my typical pre-programmed place at the top of the stairs, but this time there wasn't any whispering at the bottom, and I could clearly see to the bottom, but something was wrong, well even more wrong than usual. I had this feeling that I was somehow running out of time.

I ran to the bottom of the stairs, through to the porch and straight out of the front door. I remember running down the footpath past all the neighbouring houses, and finally getting to the end of the street. It was a clear night, no clouds, no moon. I remember the amber glow of the street lights. As I got to the end of the street, I rounded a corner and hid behind the wall. I could hear a faint buzzing sound that was getting louder. I had to hide so that they wouldn't see me.

I dared to peek around the walls that I could look back up the pathway where I'd just been running to look at my house. And that's when I caught a glimpse of it. Around, disk-like craft, hovering over my house. It seemed to have some kind of spotlight underneath that was just slowly moving around as if it was searching for something. All of a sudden it seemed to know I was there, and the searchlight flicked up towards me. I hid back around the wall to try and conceal myself, pressing myself flat against the wall, and daring not to even breathe.

As I looked up at the edge of the wall, the craft slowly and menacingly crept through the sky around the edge. I just remember feeling utter total dread, a feeling that they found it. me. After that, I remembered nothing. However, years later, when I was well into my twenties, I was backing that town for work, and I had to be a spare time, so I decided to pay my old street a visit. Virtually nothing had changed. The houses were still the same. I remember that one of the houses had a little wooden wagon wheel placed on the outside wall, and that was still there. As I walked down the path, I retraced my steps from the dream, past the houses to the end of the street, around the corner. There was the wall. I stepped behind it, flattening my back against it, peering round the wall.

I had exactly the same view as from my dream, of all the houses lined up. There was my house. all that was missing was the night sky and of course the hovering menacing craft well that's about it apologies again I did say this would be a long one it's been interesting as this is the first time I've ever typed down

everything that I can remember happening along with my mum's experiences I'm not super close with my sister unfortunately so I don't really know if she had any experiences of her own I know she remembers what happened to me both from what I told her and the night terrors waking everyone up. But that's about it. Before we get into the next one,

if you're enjoying hearing these tales, I'm here every month bringing you brand new stories. In many cases, these stories have never been heard anywhere else before. So please be sure to subscribe so you don't miss out. And if you're listening to the podcast, please consider leaving a five-star rating if you'd be so kind. On to case three. I think it started in mid-1999, when we moved into our forever home.

But in that house it just felt off. From what I can remember, the mother was the only one left in that house at the end, as her husband had passed away along with her son. The son had died in a motorbike accident years prior. I was told that this caused his father to become depressed, and then he passed as well. My parents had been talking to her before she left, so they were told about the house and the issues. Don't ask me why, but that's what they told me. Nothing really happened over the years apart from the odd noises throughout the night.

If you were walking around at night with the lights off, the darkness just felt overpowering, especially by the stairs. One day though, I was asleep in my bed. I usually kept my door closed, but I woke up only to find the door open. I was going to close it again, but I found I couldn't move. When I realised that, I tried checking all the corners. I'd watched too many ghost stories and noticed that in movies, they always hide in the corners. Then I looked at the door. It was odd.

Even though all the lights were off, there was a darker and dark figure at the door. However, it was standing outside my room. I ended up falling asleep again, as I thought it was just a dream. I told my parents the next day, but it was brushed off, as I was around 14 or 15 at the time. The next night, though, it happened again. However, this time, it was inside the doorway. Again, the next night I explained it to them. This time, however, my mother said that,

I was sensitive to things like this, as I had supposedly had conversations with people who weren't there in our old house during my younger years. Initially they thought it was an imaginary friend, but over time they heard me talking about things that I wouldn't or shouldn't have known about. As I got older though, I stopped talking to them. I'm not sure if I lost the ability or if they were just imaginary friends. However, I found that sometimes, when I was going downstairs, the hair on my arms and neck would stand up on end. However, back to the original story. The next night came, and that night it was at the bottom of my bed, closer. I was hoping I could see who was there, but still it was just pure darkness, darker than the room.

This time I asked if any of the previous occupants had passed away in the hands. house. My father then told me that both the father and the son had died in this house. The father passed from depression and the sun fell down the stairs, which is different from the motorcycle accident we'd previously been told. At this point I was dreading going to bed, but no matter how I tried to stay up, it failed. That night the darkness was at the bottom side of the bed, up by my feet. The next night it was in the middle of the bed. And finally the following night, it was right by my head. Looking straight into the shadow, it felt calming for some reason. I found it odd, as everything then clicked. Not once during any of those nights had I felt

any form of malice from this darkness. It was still terrifying. Finally, when I told my parents that day. My father said that he would sleep in my room that night, just in case. Nothing happened that night or since. However, I later found out a piece of information that would have been helpful if they had told me the first time I mentioned it. The room I was sleeping in was the child's old room. Case 4 brings us something a little different. This is Teagan's story. I know most people might not view this as paranormal, and for that I'm sorry. But I feel like sometimes it's good to look at the less unsettling sides of paranormal activity. With that being said, let me give some background to help everything make sense. When I was around 11, both my great-grandparents

passed away. The important detail to remember is I used to ask my great-grandmother her opinion on every guy I liked, because I wanted her approval over anyone else's. After they died, they both had images of dears carved into their graves by choice of my grandfather, my great-grandmothers and grandfather's son. Our family believed for a long time that whenever we'd see a deer, that it was one of them checking in us. Now, moving on to present day, I'm now 17 and dating a guy who I believe is incredible. What's happened since that day we met is what's stunning to me. So me and my current boyfriend met through my best friend and her boyfriend. I needed a date to prom and his friend sent my friend to his Snapchat information after

my friend showed him some pictures of me. So when I added my now boyfriend and first spoke to him, I hadn't thought we'd be anything more than an awkward prom date. Later on the same day we started texting, me and my friend went to our local McDonald's and And out of nowhere I decided I wanted to do something. Keep in mind this is unusual for me because I struggle with anxiety and depression. So we both decided to message the guys we were talking to and set up a hangout the same day. Once we got there, we hung out and I was already head over hills for my now boyfriend.

But the abnormal thing happened on the way home and has happened ever since. We were driving home on the usual main road, and out of nowhere, a deer jumped out onto the road, so I had to slam on my brakes. At the time this didn't seem abnormal. The abnormal thing happened after every time I saw him after that. After the first time this happened, it would go on to happen every single time I was on the way home from seeing him, regardless of what road I took. My friend has seen it on several occasions

due to the fact she often rise over to hang out with her boyfriend with me due to him being in the next town over So I would like to believe that this was my grandparents Telling me that he was the one Due to me never having this happen prior To meeting my boyfriend One last story before I leave you tonight This person actually has a few experiences

But I thought we were checking with the rest in the next episode But for now, if you're familiar with the idea of stone tape theory, I think you'll find this one interesting. Let's begin our last case. When I was around 16 or so, my best friend at the time went on a high school trip to Germany due to being in German language class 4 or 5 at the time. I didn't see him for several weeks. When he came back to the US, he was very excited to see me, telling me over the phone that he had a wonderful gift to give me. I was excited, and when we finally met back up after his trip abroad, he told

me to close my eyes. I did, and he placed something into my hand. I opened my eyes and looked down. What I saw was a dirty old-looking half-a-fist-sized chunk of concrete in a sandwich bag. I was completely confused and looked at my friend quizzically. He was smiling at me. What he said, I said next to make my mind go blank for a second. The concrete chunk was a chunk from one of the crumbling concrete walls of a concentration camp. I wanted to slap him for doing something so incredibly stupid. Honestly, I'm not even sure I believed him.

I forgot the rest of the conversation, but now I had a piece of World War II concentration camp and I didn't know what to do with it. probably not going to believe this going forward, but all this happened after getting the chunk. I swear this all happened, and I'm probably leaving a lot of details out. If you can believe it, none of this stuff I attribute to the chunk till near the end. So I left the chunk on my writing desk in my room, like a morbid paperway to unsure what to do with it. I immediately started getting the feeling of being watched constantly. Also I witnessed some objects being moved, most prominently though, every other night I'd wake up at 3am, completely wide awake,

and there would be, clear as day, a tall, solid black figure, standing at the end of my bed, staring at me. I swear it was judging me harshly, or, or, or, that's the vibe I got. I could move, but I wouldn't. The figure would stare at me for five to ten minutes, before turning and slowly walking out the room and down the hall. I could always hear the figure's feet creak while walking on the wooden floor. The figure showed up for about half a year until the end. There were other minor incidents, but the other big one I remember is being called out of the blue by my best friend who got the chunk. He was in a panic, asking me to come right over. I rushed over to his house and found him sitting on the front porch, nervously chain-smoking,

which he never really did. He was genuinely trembling. I asked him what was wrong, and this is what he told me. He had come home and walked into his house. As soon as he turned to walk down the long hallway with the bedrooms. There were two large glowing red eyes floating there. Then where the eyes were came almost demonic growling. Before they started coming towards him, he ran out of the house and immediately called me, unable to bring himself to go back into the house. He also admitted other things that had been happening in his house, along with an experience where he laid in his bed at night and something opened his bedroom door and walked around the room turning on his mini CRT TV to static before turning it off and walking back out he couldn't see it but he

could hear the footsteps on the wood after about half a year of weird stuff I finally made the connection to the chunk I made a plan to take it and bury it in the woods but when I finally went to take it off my desk, the chunk had just vanished. It had been on my desk in the slain place for half a year, and nobody in my family admitted to moving it, or even knew what I was talking about. Luckily though, the vanishing of the chunk seemed to placated whatever it was that was messing with us. The day after the chunk vanished, Everything went back to normal No more things moving

No more entities No more feeling Constantly watched Nothing This wasn't intended to be an episode about Shadow Men I had read through a series of emails From a certain date window And set aside a bunch of stories I thought were interesting

I did this over time So the connection that almost every single one featured a shadow being wasn't something I picked up on until it came time to put the show together. With the topic we kick-started the year with over on the main show, this feels like a very strange coincidence. Or maybe, if you are inclined to believe such things, an example of synchronicity.

But I will leave you to debate that amongst yourselves. Should we believe every account of the paranormal that someone claims? Of course not But I think it's interesting To look for the similarities For the patterns For the things that just cannot be explained Are there really ghosts

Beings from other worlds that visit us Now's a question we cannot answer here On a show like this But I know I for one We'll be keeping an eye on my bedroom door tonight Just in case It's time for me to go once again and leave you on this dark journey alone. Please don't forget to do all that

lovely liking, subscribing and rating business. It helps me out massively. It means I can bring you these episodes for a long time. Until next time my friends. This episode was made possible from the kind donations of members on Patreon and YouTube. First up our tape library archivists, Adam Grantham, Yenok, Aurora, Libora. Nowan-Zem, Pat McShay, Pantherport, The Illusive M, Yoinks and Away, Bisexual Mooncult, Emulated Phoenix, Jamie Long, Lisa Mary Sheridan, Gaffironding, Gaffirondon, Gap, Plum Blossom, Gina, Gina, Sarah Boyd, Thomas Boatwright, Stephen Lutman, Crystal E, West Virginia vegetable Man, Dawn Swan, Tina S, Sean Miller, Juno, Joseph Cordelia, Jolly Jellai, Piccelina,

Joe, The Crimson Diem, The Detective, Gene Janine, Dala, Alfredo Sandoval, Giro, Midiasabine, Danielis, Dagan O'Dorleg, Judith Hacker, Eric Salas, Mirashard, Adlin, Ashlav's Books, Trady Torello, Gabrielle, Umeco Grimm and Sandy Lusk. Then we have our amazing lead archivists. Darren Morgan Green, Win Lewis, Plague Doctor Is In, Amy Stubblefield, the original Deer, Emmy Bartley, Lady Bet Noir, Ridiculous, London Grace, Melissa Harrison, Emperor Franz, Old Soul Like Mine, Xavier Angle, Saryl, Alex O'Neil, Tyler Michael, Alex Goldberg, Vagnol, Brian Baker and 1000th Ghost, and our insanely generous grand overseers.

Harrison the Yoga Lord, Leo Carmela, Bairdidley, Katie, Morning Rain 2619, Agent 355, and the one you'll stick around to here, Queen of Flatulence. A serious, massive thank you to all of those people for being just a lovely bunch, and all my junior archive is on Patreon and you wonderful members on YouTube. you guys all keep the lights on in the tape library archives. If you want to join us, then please check out the Patreon link in the description. Thank you. A padlock, right? You and I look at a padlock that's on like a locker,

and it's got the dial and there's like three numbers, right? And the first number, you have to hit it, and the second number, you have to go around and pass it once and hit the second number. Then the third number is where the thing unlocks, right? We put so much, like, onus on that number, the numbers, the numbers, the numbers. But if you like scrape those numbers off and replace them with like emojis or with Arabic or dots or something, it's it's basically all doing the same thing Maybe religion or all these stories these spiritual stories are all sort of like the different iterations of those symbols that I was just talking about

One is numbers one is emojis one is glyphs one is dots but it's all kind of operating Completely the same underneath and that's just basically giving people symbols or stories or guide rails or guideposts to sort of like get them there. The numbers, the numbers, the numbers. It's all doing the same shit underneath unlocking the things. And those three things that you have to hit are one unlocks the gears and that lock opens up. And what is that lock? I don't know.

That's a different question. I'm not answering that one.