August 13, 2025 • 24 mins
Join us as we embark on a thrilling exploration of unexpected encounters and mysterious disappearances in this captivating episode. Our journey begins with Sophia, a woman whose enigmatic presence and intriguing question about fate leave an indelible mark. As our story unfolds, what begins as a promising connection takes a puzzling turn, leading to an eerie empty lot and unanswered questions about Sophia's true intentions. The suspense heightens as we explore another unsettling tale of a first date gone awry, where a seemingly innocuous curiosity quickly escalates into a chilling series of events. Odd occurrences in my apartment and the discovery of a stranger's smartphone hint at the possibility of being watched, casting doubt on the intentions of someone I once met for coffee.In the heart-pounding conclusion, experience the tense moments of confronting a stalker in the shadows. When a woman I thought I knew turns out to be someone else entirely, the situation spirals into a frantic escape for safety. Discover the chilling truth about Sylvana's identity and the unsettling realization of her troubled history. This encounter forces a dramatic change in my life, leading to a reassessment of trust and security. Listen in as we unravel these gripping stories, each leaving an unforgettable impact and prompting reflections on the unexpected twists life can take.
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:07):
I wasn't really looking for anything serious when I matched
with this girl, who I'll refer to as Sophia to
keep things anonymous. It was one of those late night
swiping sessions where you're half watching TV and half scrolling
through profiles. But there was something about her that caught
my eye. Maybe it was her smile or the way
her eyes seemed to light up in every picture. Her
(00:30):
bio was simple, almost cryptic, just a girl who loves
good coffee and bad movies. We started chatting and I
quickly found myself intrigued by her. She was funny, a
little sarcastic, and we shared a lot of the same interests.
We talked about everything, favorite books, our most embarrassing moments,
even what we do in a zombie apocalypse. There was
(00:52):
an easy chemistry between us that I hadn't felt in
a long time. After a week of late night messages
and early morning texts, we decided to meet up. It
wasn't a big deal, just coffee at a cafe downtown.
I liked that it was low key, no pressure, just
two people getting to know each other in person. But
then she asked me a question that caught me off guard.
(01:15):
Do you believe in fate. I stared at the screen
for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. It
wasn't the kind of question you expect in casual conversation,
especially not right before meeting someone for the first time.
Not really sure, I replied, trying to keep it light.
Why do you ask? There was a long pause before
she responded, just curious. I think some people are meant
(01:39):
to find each other no matter what. It was a
strange thing to say, but I didn't think too much
of it at the time. I figured she was just
being philosophical, maybe even a little romantic. I shrugged it
off and went to bed, excited about our date the
next day, but looking back, I wish I had paid
more attention to that message. The day of our date,
(02:00):
I arrived at the cafe a little early. It was
a small, cozy place, tucked away on a quiet street,
exactly the kind of spot you'd expect someone like Sophia
to suggest. I grabbed a table by the window and
ordered a coffee, trying to calm the nervous energy buzzing
in my chest. I kept checking my phone, half expecting
(02:20):
a last minute cancelation text, but there was nothing. She
was supposed to arrive any minute, and I found myself
glancing at the door of every time someone walked in.
After about ten minutes, the door swung open, and there
she was. So Ifia looked just like her pictures, maybe
even better in person. She had this effortless style, wearing
a simple dress with a jean jacket, her hair falling
(02:42):
in loose waves around her shoulders. When she spotted me,
she smiled, and I felt a rush of relief wash
over me. Sorry I'm late, she said as she sat down.
Parking was a nightmare. No worries, I replied, smiling back.
I just got here too. We settled into easy conver
just like we had online. There were no awkward pauses,
(03:03):
no strained silences, just two people enjoying each other's company.
We talked about everything from work to our favorite movies,
and before I knew it, an hour had flown by.
At one point, she leaned in, her voice lowering conspiratorially.
So what do you think was it fate that brought
us together? I laughed, remembering our conversation from the night before.
(03:25):
Maybe I said, playing along, Or maybe it was just
the algorithm. She grinned, But there was something in her eyes,
something that made me feel like she knew more than
she was letting on. It was just a flicker, a
brief moment, but it unsettled me. As our date came
to an end, we made plans to meet up again.
She suggested dinner at a restaurant she knew, and I
(03:47):
eagerly agreed. She gave me the address and we said
our goodbyes, both of us leaving with a smile. But
as I walked back to my car, I couldn't shake
the feeling that something was off. It was just a small,
nagging sensation in the back of my mind, but it
was there, like a pebble in my shoe that I
couldn't ignore. I pushed it aside, telling myself I was
(04:10):
just overthinking things. Sophia was great and I was looking
forward to seeing her again, but that uneasy feeling lingered
no matter how hard I tried to brush it off.
The day of our second date, I was in a
good mood. Work had gone smoothly, and I was looking
forward to seeing Sophia again. I left the office a
little early, wanting to make sure I had plenty of
(04:31):
time to get to the restaurant. The address she had
given me was in a part of town I wasn't
familiar with, but I didn't think much of it. I
figured it was just one of those hidden gems that
only locals knew about. But as I drove, the neighborhoods
became less and less familiar. The further I went, the
more run down everything became, until I was driving through
(04:53):
an area that felt completely abandoned. I checked the GPS again,
thinking I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. No,
the address Sofia had given me was just a few
blocks away. I started to feel that same unease from before, stronger,
now gnawing at my gut. I thought about turning around,
texting her to ask if we could meet somewhere else,
(05:15):
but I didn't want to seem paranoid. After all, she
had suggested this place. Maybe it was one of those
dive bars with great food, the kind you'd never find
unless someone told you about it. But when I finally
reached the address, my heart sank. The restaurant was nothing
but an empty lot. I parked the car and got out,
(05:35):
staring at the vacant space in front of me. Weeds
had overtaken what must have once been a building, and
broken glass littered the ground. There was no sign of
a restaurant, no sign of anything. I checked my phone,
hoping I had made a mistake, but the address was correct.
I tried calling Sophia, but the call went straight to voicemail.
I sent her a text asking where she was, but
(05:57):
there was no response. I stood there for a few minutes,
hoping she would call back or show up, but the
street remained empty, silent except for the distant hum of traffic.
The uneasy feeling in my gut was now full blown anxiety.
After about twenty minutes, I decided to leave. Something was
seriously wrong, and I wasn't going to stand around waiting
(06:19):
to find out what. I got back in my car
and drove away, my mind racing with all the possibilities.
Maybe she had given me the wrong address by mistake,
or maybe it was a prank. But no matter how
I tried to rationalize it, none of it made sense.
As I drove back into more familiar parts of town,
I couldn't shake the feeling that I had been set up.
(06:42):
I kept glancing in my rear view mirror, half expecting
to see someone following me, but the road behind me
was clear. When I got home, I tried calling Sophia again,
but it went straight to voicemail, just like before. I
sent a few more texts asking if everything was okay,
but hours went by with no response. That night, I
barely slept. I kept my phone by my side, hoping
(07:05):
she would call her text back, but there was nothing.
The next morning, I tried calling again, but the line
was dead. Her number had been disconnected. I felt a
cold wave of dreadwash over me as I realized that
Sophia had completely vanished. No phone number, no social media nothing.
It was like she had never existed. I spent the
(07:26):
next few days trying to track her down. I searched
for her on every social media platform, called every number
I could find, but there was no trace of her.
It was as if she had been erased from existence.
That's when I started to dig deeper. I couldn't let
it go. The whole situation was gnawing at me, and
I needed to find out what had happened to Sophia.
(07:47):
I started asking around, talking to people who lived in
the area where the restaurant was supposed to be, hoping
someone had seen or heard something. Most people just shrugged,
telling me they didn't know anything about arreststaurant ever being there.
But then I found an older man who had lived
in the neighborhood for decades. When I mentioned the address,
(08:08):
his expression changed, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. That place,
he said, shaking his head. That lot's been empty for years.
Used to be a building there, but it burned down
about fifteen years ago. No one's built anything there since.
I felt a chill run down my spine. Do you
know what happened? I asked. The man hesitated, then sighed
(08:29):
it was a fire. Nobody knows how it started, but
a lot of people died, families, kids. It was a
real tragedy. Place has been abandoned ever since. Some say
it's cursed. I thanked him and walked away, my mind
spinning a fire, a cursed lot. It sounded like something
out of a horror movie. But I couldn't shake the
feeling that there was more to it than that. I
(08:52):
went home and did some research, digging through old news
articles and records. It didn't take long to find what
I was looking for. There been a fire, and it
had claimed the lives of several people. One of the
victims was a young woman named Sophia, same name, same
description as the girl I had met. The article included
a photograph of her, and my heart nearly stopped when
(09:15):
I saw it. It was her, the same girl I
had met at the cafe, the same girl I had
been talking to for weeks. But that was impossible. She
had died years ago, long before dating apps even existed.
I stared at the screen, my mind reeling had I
been talking to a ghost? Was that why she had
asked me about fate, about whether I believed in destiny.
(09:37):
The more I thought about it, the more everything started
to make a twisted kind of sense. The strange questions,
the empty lot, the way she had vanished without a trace.
It was all connected. But the realization that I had
been communicating with someone who was no longer alive didn't
bring me any comfort. If anything, it only deepened the
fear that had been growing inside me. And sleep that night,
(10:01):
every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face,
that smile, those eyes that seemed to look right through me.
I kept hearing her voice, asking me about fate, about
whether we were meant to find each other. The next morning,
I deleted the dating app, blocked her number, and tried
to put it all behind me. But no matter how
hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that she
(10:22):
was still out there, somewhere, waiting for me. A few
weeks went by, and I slowly started to move on.
I tried to convince myself that it had all been
some kind of bizarre coincidence, that maybe I had imagined
the whole thing, but deep down I knew that wasn't true.
Then one night, I was out with friends, trying to
(10:43):
enjoy a few drinks and forget about everything that had happened.
I was starting to feel a little more like myself again,
the fear slowly fading into the background. But then, as
I was leaving the bar, I saw her, Sophia. She
was standing across the street, just out of the glow
of the street lights, her eyes fixed on me. For
(11:04):
a moment, I thought I was seeing things, that it
was just the beers playing tricks on me, But then
she smiled that same smile that had drawn me in
the first time I saw her. I froze, my heart
pounding in my chest, a cold wave of fear washing
over me. I wanted to run, to get as far
away from her as possible, but my feet wouldn't move.
(11:24):
She started to walk toward me, slowly, deliberately, her gaze
never leaving mine. I could feel the blood draining from
my face, my body tensing with terror. And then, just
as she reached the edge of the light, she stopped.
For a long moment, we just stood there, staring at
each other, the world around us fading into nothing. There
was no sound, no movement, just the two of us,
(11:46):
locked in that moment, frozen in time. She smiled again,
but this time it was different, darker, more sinister. And then,
just as suddenly as she had appeared, she turned and
walked away, disappearing into the night. I stood there, shaking,
my mind, reeling. I wanted to chase after her, to
demand answers, but I knew I wouldn't find her. I
(12:07):
knew she was gone. I haven't seen Sophia since that night,
but I know she's still out there. I can feel it,
a lingering presence that haunts my every step. I've stopped
using dating apps, stop trying to meet new people. I
can't risk it, not after what happened online dating wasn't
(12:34):
really my thing, but after my last relationship ended, I
figured why not give it a shot. Friends kept telling
me it was the best way to meet new people,
especially in the digital age, So after some convincing, I
downloaded Tinder and set up a profile. It was casual
at first, swiping left and right, chatting with a few
people here and there. Nothing serious, that is, until I
(12:56):
matched with Isabella. Isabella seemed nice enough. Her profile was
filled with pictures of her at the beach, out with friends,
even a few candid shots of her laughing. She looked normal,
no red flags, nothing that set off any alarms. Her
bio was short, something about loving dogs and being a foodie,
which seemed pretty standard. We started chatting and she came
(13:19):
across as fun, a bit quirky, but in a good way.
After a few days of messaging back and forth, she
suggested we meet up. I was a bit hesitant at first,
meeting someone from the internet in real life can be intimidating,
but she was persistent and eventually I agreed. We decided
on a casual coffee date at a cafe downtown public place,
(13:39):
middle of the day, nothing to worry about. When I
arrived at the cafe, I was nervous, but more excited
than anything. I scanned the room looking for Isabella. I
spotted her almost immediately. She looked just like her pictures,
which was a relief. She was sitting at a small
table by the window, her dark hair cascading over her
shoulders as she sipped her coffee. I took a deep breath,
(14:02):
walked over and introduced myself. She looked up, smiled, and
for a moment, everything felt normal. But that feeling didn't
last long. As soon as I sat down, I noticed
something off about Isabella. At first, it was just little things,
like the way she kept looking around the cafe, as
if she was expecting someone else to show up. Her
(14:23):
eyes darted to the door every time it opened, and
she seemed distracted, almost nervous. I tried to make conversation,
asking her about her day, her job, her interests. She
answered my questions, but her responses were short, almost rehearsed,
like she wasn't really listening. Instead, she kept steering the
conversation back to me, asking oddly specific questions about my life,
(14:45):
where I lived, if I lived alone, what time I
usually got home from work. I started to feel uneasy,
but I brushed it off, telling myself I was just
being paranoid. Maybe she was just shy or nervous. First
dates can be awkward, after all. But then she started
asking about my apartment. Do you like where you live?
She asked, her voice suddenly eager, leaning forward as if
(15:07):
my answer was incredibly important. Yeah it's nice, I replied,
trying to keep my tone casual. It's nothing fancy, just
a small place downtown. She nodded, her eyes lighting up
with interest. Do you have roommates, I hesitated, not sure
why she was so interested in my living situation. No,
I live alone, I said, instantly, regretting it. Her smile widened.
(15:31):
That must be nice, she said, her tone almost envious.
I forced a smile, trying to hide my discomfort. Yeah
it's quiet, I replied, before quickly changing the subject. But
no matter what I tried to talk about, she kept
bringing the conversation back to my apartment, my schedule, even
asking if I had any pets. By the time the
date was over, I was more than ready to leave.
(15:52):
I walked her to her car, made some excuse about
needing to get home early, and said goodbye. She seemed disappointed,
but she didn't push, just smiled and waved as she
drove off. As I watched her car disappear down the street,
I felt a wave of relief. The date had been strange, sure,
but at least it was over. I told myself it
(16:13):
was just a one time thing, that I wouldn't have
to see her again if I didn't want to. But
deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
The next few days were uneventful. I went about my
routine work, jim home. I didn't hear from Isabella, and
I didn't reach out to her either. I figured it
was for the best. The date had been awkward and
(16:34):
I wasn't interested in seeing her again. But then things
started happening. It began with small things, little disturbances that
were easy to dismiss. I'd come home from work and
find my front door unlocked, even though I was sure
I had locked it before leaving. Or I'd noticed that
items in my apartment seemed slightly out of place. A
(16:54):
book moved from one side of the table to the other,
a cup left in the sink that I didn't remember using.
At first, I chalked it up to forgetfulness. Maybe I
was just tired, stressed from work, but as the days
went on, the disturbances became harder to ignore. One night,
I came home to find my bedroom window wide open.
(17:15):
I always kept it closed and locked, especially since I
lived on the ground floor, but there it was, the
curtains billowing in the breeze, the lock unlatched. I felt
a chill run down my spine as I stared at
the open window. Someone had been in my apartment. There
was no other explanation. I did a quick check of
the apartment, looking for any signs of a break in,
(17:37):
but nothing seemed out of place. No broken glass, no
forced locks. It was as if whoever had been there
had a key. That night, I barely slept. Every rustle
of the wind outside made my heart race. I kept
the lights on, my phone clutched in my hand, ready
to call the police at the slightest sound, but nothing happened.
(17:58):
The next day I called the landlord and as if anyone
else had access to my apartment. He assured me that
I was the only one with a key and that
the locks hadn't been changed in years. I asked if
he could change them, but he said it would take
a few days to get someone out to do it.
I felt a pit of dread in my stomach, but
I didn't have much of a choice. I told myself
(18:19):
I was overreacting, that there was a logical explanation for
everything that had been happening. But I couldn't shake the
feeling that I was being watched, that someone was waiting
for the right moment to strike. And then a few
days later, I found the phone. It was a Friday
night and I had just gotten home from work. I
was exhausted, looking forward to a quiet evening of takeout
(18:42):
and Netflix. As I was settling in, I heard a
strange buzzing noise coming from the hallway. At first I
thought it was my phone, but when I checked, it wasn't.
The buzzing continued a low, persistent hum that seemed to
be coming from somewhere nearby. I followed the sound, my
heart pounding in my chest, and found myself standing in
front of the small door that led to the boiler room.
(19:05):
The door was slightly ajar, the buzzing louder, now more insistent.
I hesitated for a moment, a sense of dread settling
over me, but I couldn't ignore it. I pushed the
door open and stepped inside, the cold, musty air wrapping
around me. The buzzing was louder, now echoing off the
concrete walls. I shone my phone's flashlight around the room,
(19:27):
trying to locate the source of the sound. That's when
I saw it, A small black smartphone wedged between two
pipes in the corner of the room. The screen was
lit up the source of the buzzing, A notification flashing
on the screen. I reached out with trembling hands and
picked it up. The phone was locked, but the notification
was still visible, A message from an unknown number, why
(19:50):
aren't you answering me? My blood ran cold as I
stared at the screen. This wasn't my phone. I didn't
know whose it was or how it had ended up
in my boiler room, but the implications were terrifying. Someone
had been in my apartment and they had left their
phone behind. My mind raced as I tried to piece
together what was happening. I thought back to the strange occurrences,
(20:12):
the unlocked door, the open window, the moved items. It
all made sense now someone had been inside my apartment.
And then it hit me, Isabella, the questions she had
asked on our date. The way she had seemed so
interested in my apartment, in whether I lived alone. It
had all been an act, a way to get close
to me, to learn everything she could before making her move.
(20:35):
I dropped the phone, my hands shaking, and stumbled out
of the boiler room. I had to get out of there,
had to call the police, had to do something. But
as I reached for my phone, I heard a noise,
a soft creaking sound, like a door slowly opening. I froze,
my breath catching in my throat. The sound was coming
from the hallway just outside my bedroom door. Slowly I turned,
(20:59):
my heart pounding in my ears. The door to my
bedroom was ajar, just like the boiler room door had been,
and in the dim light of the hallway, I could
see a shadow, a tall, slender figure standing just inside
the doorway. It was her. For a moment, neither of
us moved. The only sound was the soft buzzing of
the phone still lying on the floor in the boiler room.
(21:20):
Isabella stood in the doorway. I could see her eyes
wide and unblinking, staring at me with an intensity that
made my blood run cold. She took a step forward,
and I instinctively backed away, my heart racing. My mind
was screaming at me to run, to get out of there,
but I was frozen in place, paralyzed by fear. Why
did you disappear? She whispered, her voice soft and eerily calm.
(21:43):
I didn't respond. I couldn't. My throat had closed up,
my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Why did you disappear?
She repeated, her voice growing louder as she took another
step forward. I forced myself to move, stumbling backward into
the living room. I needed to call for help, but
she was blocking the way. The door was behind her,
(22:04):
and I was trapped. She reached out her hand, trembling,
her eyes locked on mine. I thought you loved me,
she said, her voice breaking, tears welling up in her eyes.
MY mind was racing, trying to make sense of what
was happening. This wasn't the same girl I had met
on that first date. This was someone else, entirely, someone dangerous,
(22:25):
someone unhinged. I had to do something. I couldn't let
her get any closer. My eyes darted around the room,
looking for anything I could use to defend myself. But
before I could act, she lunged at me, her hands
reaching for my throat. I reacted on instinct, grabbing the
nearest object, a lamp on the side table, and swinging
it at her. It connected with a sickening thud, and
(22:48):
she staggered back, her eyes wide with shock and pain.
I didn't wait to see if she would recover. I
bolted for the door, wrenching it open and sprinting out
into the hallway. My hand were shaking so badly I
could barely dial nine one one, but somehow I managed.
The police arrived within minutes. By the time they got there,
(23:09):
Isabella was gone, but they found evidence of her presence,
her phone in the boiler room, fingerprints all over my apartment,
and even a small bag she had left behind filled
with personal items. They found her a few hours later,
hiding in an alleyway a few blocks from my apartment.
She was arrested and charged with stalking, breaking, and entering
an assault. It turned out that her real name was Silvana,
(23:32):
not Isabella, and she had a history of stalking and
mental health issues. The relief I felt when she was
taken into custody was overwhelming, but it was tempered by
the lingering fear that I hadn't seen the last of her.
The police assured me that she would be held accountable,
that I was safe, but it didn't feel that way.
(23:54):
I moved out of that apartment the next day, breaking
my lease and relocating to a different part of the city.
I changed my phone number, deleted my dating apps, and
did everything I could to put the experience behind me.
But the fear never really went away. Every time I
heard a creak in my new apartment, every time I
noticed something out of place, that cold dread would creep
(24:17):
back in, reminding me that I had been watched, that
I had been vulnerable.
I wasn't really looking for anything serious when I matched
with this girl, who I'll refer to as Sophia to
keep things anonymous. It was one of those late night
swiping sessions where you're half watching TV and half scrolling
through profiles. But there was something about her that caught
my eye. Maybe it was her smile or the way
her eyes seemed to light up in every picture. Her
(00:30):
bio was simple, almost cryptic, just a girl who loves
good coffee and bad movies. We started chatting and I
quickly found myself intrigued by her. She was funny, a
little sarcastic, and we shared a lot of the same interests.
We talked about everything, favorite books, our most embarrassing moments,
even what we do in a zombie apocalypse. There was
(00:52):
an easy chemistry between us that I hadn't felt in
a long time. After a week of late night messages
and early morning texts, we decided to meet up. It
wasn't a big deal, just coffee at a cafe downtown.
I liked that it was low key, no pressure, just
two people getting to know each other in person. But
then she asked me a question that caught me off guard.
(01:15):
Do you believe in fate. I stared at the screen
for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. It
wasn't the kind of question you expect in casual conversation,
especially not right before meeting someone for the first time.
Not really sure, I replied, trying to keep it light.
Why do you ask? There was a long pause before
she responded, just curious. I think some people are meant
(01:39):
to find each other no matter what. It was a
strange thing to say, but I didn't think too much
of it at the time. I figured she was just
being philosophical, maybe even a little romantic. I shrugged it
off and went to bed, excited about our date the
next day, but looking back, I wish I had paid
more attention to that message. The day of our date,
(02:00):
I arrived at the cafe a little early. It was
a small, cozy place, tucked away on a quiet street,
exactly the kind of spot you'd expect someone like Sophia
to suggest. I grabbed a table by the window and
ordered a coffee, trying to calm the nervous energy buzzing
in my chest. I kept checking my phone, half expecting
(02:20):
a last minute cancelation text, but there was nothing. She
was supposed to arrive any minute, and I found myself
glancing at the door of every time someone walked in.
After about ten minutes, the door swung open, and there
she was. So Ifia looked just like her pictures, maybe
even better in person. She had this effortless style, wearing
a simple dress with a jean jacket, her hair falling
(02:42):
in loose waves around her shoulders. When she spotted me,
she smiled, and I felt a rush of relief wash
over me. Sorry I'm late, she said as she sat down.
Parking was a nightmare. No worries, I replied, smiling back.
I just got here too. We settled into easy conver
just like we had online. There were no awkward pauses,
(03:03):
no strained silences, just two people enjoying each other's company.
We talked about everything from work to our favorite movies,
and before I knew it, an hour had flown by.
At one point, she leaned in, her voice lowering conspiratorially.
So what do you think was it fate that brought
us together? I laughed, remembering our conversation from the night before.
(03:25):
Maybe I said, playing along, Or maybe it was just
the algorithm. She grinned, But there was something in her eyes,
something that made me feel like she knew more than
she was letting on. It was just a flicker, a
brief moment, but it unsettled me. As our date came
to an end, we made plans to meet up again.
She suggested dinner at a restaurant she knew, and I
(03:47):
eagerly agreed. She gave me the address and we said
our goodbyes, both of us leaving with a smile. But
as I walked back to my car, I couldn't shake
the feeling that something was off. It was just a small,
nagging sensation in the back of my mind, but it
was there, like a pebble in my shoe that I
couldn't ignore. I pushed it aside, telling myself I was
(04:10):
just overthinking things. Sophia was great and I was looking
forward to seeing her again, but that uneasy feeling lingered
no matter how hard I tried to brush it off.
The day of our second date, I was in a
good mood. Work had gone smoothly, and I was looking
forward to seeing Sophia again. I left the office a
little early, wanting to make sure I had plenty of
(04:31):
time to get to the restaurant. The address she had
given me was in a part of town I wasn't
familiar with, but I didn't think much of it. I
figured it was just one of those hidden gems that
only locals knew about. But as I drove, the neighborhoods
became less and less familiar. The further I went, the
more run down everything became, until I was driving through
(04:53):
an area that felt completely abandoned. I checked the GPS again,
thinking I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. No,
the address Sofia had given me was just a few
blocks away. I started to feel that same unease from before, stronger,
now gnawing at my gut. I thought about turning around,
texting her to ask if we could meet somewhere else,
(05:15):
but I didn't want to seem paranoid. After all, she
had suggested this place. Maybe it was one of those
dive bars with great food, the kind you'd never find
unless someone told you about it. But when I finally
reached the address, my heart sank. The restaurant was nothing
but an empty lot. I parked the car and got out,
(05:35):
staring at the vacant space in front of me. Weeds
had overtaken what must have once been a building, and
broken glass littered the ground. There was no sign of
a restaurant, no sign of anything. I checked my phone,
hoping I had made a mistake, but the address was correct.
I tried calling Sophia, but the call went straight to voicemail.
I sent her a text asking where she was, but
(05:57):
there was no response. I stood there for a few minutes,
hoping she would call back or show up, but the
street remained empty, silent except for the distant hum of traffic.
The uneasy feeling in my gut was now full blown anxiety.
After about twenty minutes, I decided to leave. Something was
seriously wrong, and I wasn't going to stand around waiting
(06:19):
to find out what. I got back in my car
and drove away, my mind racing with all the possibilities.
Maybe she had given me the wrong address by mistake,
or maybe it was a prank. But no matter how
I tried to rationalize it, none of it made sense.
As I drove back into more familiar parts of town,
I couldn't shake the feeling that I had been set up.
(06:42):
I kept glancing in my rear view mirror, half expecting
to see someone following me, but the road behind me
was clear. When I got home, I tried calling Sophia again,
but it went straight to voicemail, just like before. I
sent a few more texts asking if everything was okay,
but hours went by with no response. That night, I
barely slept. I kept my phone by my side, hoping
(07:05):
she would call her text back, but there was nothing.
The next morning, I tried calling again, but the line
was dead. Her number had been disconnected. I felt a
cold wave of dreadwash over me as I realized that
Sophia had completely vanished. No phone number, no social media nothing.
It was like she had never existed. I spent the
(07:26):
next few days trying to track her down. I searched
for her on every social media platform, called every number
I could find, but there was no trace of her.
It was as if she had been erased from existence.
That's when I started to dig deeper. I couldn't let
it go. The whole situation was gnawing at me, and
I needed to find out what had happened to Sophia.
(07:47):
I started asking around, talking to people who lived in
the area where the restaurant was supposed to be, hoping
someone had seen or heard something. Most people just shrugged,
telling me they didn't know anything about arreststaurant ever being there.
But then I found an older man who had lived
in the neighborhood for decades. When I mentioned the address,
(08:08):
his expression changed, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. That place,
he said, shaking his head. That lot's been empty for years.
Used to be a building there, but it burned down
about fifteen years ago. No one's built anything there since.
I felt a chill run down my spine. Do you
know what happened? I asked. The man hesitated, then sighed
(08:29):
it was a fire. Nobody knows how it started, but
a lot of people died, families, kids. It was a
real tragedy. Place has been abandoned ever since. Some say
it's cursed. I thanked him and walked away, my mind
spinning a fire, a cursed lot. It sounded like something
out of a horror movie. But I couldn't shake the
feeling that there was more to it than that. I
(08:52):
went home and did some research, digging through old news
articles and records. It didn't take long to find what
I was looking for. There been a fire, and it
had claimed the lives of several people. One of the
victims was a young woman named Sophia, same name, same
description as the girl I had met. The article included
a photograph of her, and my heart nearly stopped when
(09:15):
I saw it. It was her, the same girl I
had met at the cafe, the same girl I had
been talking to for weeks. But that was impossible. She
had died years ago, long before dating apps even existed.
I stared at the screen, my mind reeling had I
been talking to a ghost? Was that why she had
asked me about fate, about whether I believed in destiny.
(09:37):
The more I thought about it, the more everything started
to make a twisted kind of sense. The strange questions,
the empty lot, the way she had vanished without a trace.
It was all connected. But the realization that I had
been communicating with someone who was no longer alive didn't
bring me any comfort. If anything, it only deepened the
fear that had been growing inside me. And sleep that night,
(10:01):
every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face,
that smile, those eyes that seemed to look right through me.
I kept hearing her voice, asking me about fate, about
whether we were meant to find each other. The next morning,
I deleted the dating app, blocked her number, and tried
to put it all behind me. But no matter how
hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that she
(10:22):
was still out there, somewhere, waiting for me. A few
weeks went by, and I slowly started to move on.
I tried to convince myself that it had all been
some kind of bizarre coincidence, that maybe I had imagined
the whole thing, but deep down I knew that wasn't true.
Then one night, I was out with friends, trying to
(10:43):
enjoy a few drinks and forget about everything that had happened.
I was starting to feel a little more like myself again,
the fear slowly fading into the background. But then, as
I was leaving the bar, I saw her, Sophia. She
was standing across the street, just out of the glow
of the street lights, her eyes fixed on me. For
(11:04):
a moment, I thought I was seeing things, that it
was just the beers playing tricks on me, But then
she smiled that same smile that had drawn me in
the first time I saw her. I froze, my heart
pounding in my chest, a cold wave of fear washing
over me. I wanted to run, to get as far
away from her as possible, but my feet wouldn't move.
(11:24):
She started to walk toward me, slowly, deliberately, her gaze
never leaving mine. I could feel the blood draining from
my face, my body tensing with terror. And then, just
as she reached the edge of the light, she stopped.
For a long moment, we just stood there, staring at
each other, the world around us fading into nothing. There
was no sound, no movement, just the two of us,
(11:46):
locked in that moment, frozen in time. She smiled again,
but this time it was different, darker, more sinister. And then,
just as suddenly as she had appeared, she turned and
walked away, disappearing into the night. I stood there, shaking,
my mind, reeling. I wanted to chase after her, to
demand answers, but I knew I wouldn't find her. I
(12:07):
knew she was gone. I haven't seen Sophia since that night,
but I know she's still out there. I can feel it,
a lingering presence that haunts my every step. I've stopped
using dating apps, stop trying to meet new people. I
can't risk it, not after what happened online dating wasn't
(12:34):
really my thing, but after my last relationship ended, I
figured why not give it a shot. Friends kept telling
me it was the best way to meet new people,
especially in the digital age, So after some convincing, I
downloaded Tinder and set up a profile. It was casual
at first, swiping left and right, chatting with a few
people here and there. Nothing serious, that is, until I
(12:56):
matched with Isabella. Isabella seemed nice enough. Her profile was
filled with pictures of her at the beach, out with friends,
even a few candid shots of her laughing. She looked normal,
no red flags, nothing that set off any alarms. Her
bio was short, something about loving dogs and being a foodie,
which seemed pretty standard. We started chatting and she came
(13:19):
across as fun, a bit quirky, but in a good way.
After a few days of messaging back and forth, she
suggested we meet up. I was a bit hesitant at first,
meeting someone from the internet in real life can be intimidating,
but she was persistent and eventually I agreed. We decided
on a casual coffee date at a cafe downtown public place,
(13:39):
middle of the day, nothing to worry about. When I
arrived at the cafe, I was nervous, but more excited
than anything. I scanned the room looking for Isabella. I
spotted her almost immediately. She looked just like her pictures,
which was a relief. She was sitting at a small
table by the window, her dark hair cascading over her
shoulders as she sipped her coffee. I took a deep breath,
(14:02):
walked over and introduced myself. She looked up, smiled, and
for a moment, everything felt normal. But that feeling didn't
last long. As soon as I sat down, I noticed
something off about Isabella. At first, it was just little things,
like the way she kept looking around the cafe, as
if she was expecting someone else to show up. Her
(14:23):
eyes darted to the door every time it opened, and
she seemed distracted, almost nervous. I tried to make conversation,
asking her about her day, her job, her interests. She
answered my questions, but her responses were short, almost rehearsed,
like she wasn't really listening. Instead, she kept steering the
conversation back to me, asking oddly specific questions about my life,
(14:45):
where I lived, if I lived alone, what time I
usually got home from work. I started to feel uneasy,
but I brushed it off, telling myself I was just
being paranoid. Maybe she was just shy or nervous. First
dates can be awkward, after all. But then she started
asking about my apartment. Do you like where you live?
She asked, her voice suddenly eager, leaning forward as if
(15:07):
my answer was incredibly important. Yeah it's nice, I replied,
trying to keep my tone casual. It's nothing fancy, just
a small place downtown. She nodded, her eyes lighting up
with interest. Do you have roommates, I hesitated, not sure
why she was so interested in my living situation. No,
I live alone, I said, instantly, regretting it. Her smile widened.
(15:31):
That must be nice, she said, her tone almost envious.
I forced a smile, trying to hide my discomfort. Yeah
it's quiet, I replied, before quickly changing the subject. But
no matter what I tried to talk about, she kept
bringing the conversation back to my apartment, my schedule, even
asking if I had any pets. By the time the
date was over, I was more than ready to leave.
(15:52):
I walked her to her car, made some excuse about
needing to get home early, and said goodbye. She seemed disappointed,
but she didn't push, just smiled and waved as she
drove off. As I watched her car disappear down the street,
I felt a wave of relief. The date had been strange, sure,
but at least it was over. I told myself it
(16:13):
was just a one time thing, that I wouldn't have
to see her again if I didn't want to. But
deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
The next few days were uneventful. I went about my
routine work, jim home. I didn't hear from Isabella, and
I didn't reach out to her either. I figured it
was for the best. The date had been awkward and
(16:34):
I wasn't interested in seeing her again. But then things
started happening. It began with small things, little disturbances that
were easy to dismiss. I'd come home from work and
find my front door unlocked, even though I was sure
I had locked it before leaving. Or I'd noticed that
items in my apartment seemed slightly out of place. A
(16:54):
book moved from one side of the table to the other,
a cup left in the sink that I didn't remember using.
At first, I chalked it up to forgetfulness. Maybe I
was just tired, stressed from work, but as the days
went on, the disturbances became harder to ignore. One night,
I came home to find my bedroom window wide open.
(17:15):
I always kept it closed and locked, especially since I
lived on the ground floor, but there it was, the
curtains billowing in the breeze, the lock unlatched. I felt
a chill run down my spine as I stared at
the open window. Someone had been in my apartment. There
was no other explanation. I did a quick check of
the apartment, looking for any signs of a break in,
(17:37):
but nothing seemed out of place. No broken glass, no
forced locks. It was as if whoever had been there
had a key. That night, I barely slept. Every rustle
of the wind outside made my heart race. I kept
the lights on, my phone clutched in my hand, ready
to call the police at the slightest sound, but nothing happened.
(17:58):
The next day I called the landlord and as if anyone
else had access to my apartment. He assured me that
I was the only one with a key and that
the locks hadn't been changed in years. I asked if
he could change them, but he said it would take
a few days to get someone out to do it.
I felt a pit of dread in my stomach, but
I didn't have much of a choice. I told myself
(18:19):
I was overreacting, that there was a logical explanation for
everything that had been happening. But I couldn't shake the
feeling that I was being watched, that someone was waiting
for the right moment to strike. And then a few
days later, I found the phone. It was a Friday
night and I had just gotten home from work. I
was exhausted, looking forward to a quiet evening of takeout
(18:42):
and Netflix. As I was settling in, I heard a
strange buzzing noise coming from the hallway. At first I
thought it was my phone, but when I checked, it wasn't.
The buzzing continued a low, persistent hum that seemed to
be coming from somewhere nearby. I followed the sound, my
heart pounding in my chest, and found myself standing in
front of the small door that led to the boiler room.
(19:05):
The door was slightly ajar, the buzzing louder, now more insistent.
I hesitated for a moment, a sense of dread settling
over me, but I couldn't ignore it. I pushed the
door open and stepped inside, the cold, musty air wrapping
around me. The buzzing was louder, now echoing off the
concrete walls. I shone my phone's flashlight around the room,
(19:27):
trying to locate the source of the sound. That's when
I saw it, A small black smartphone wedged between two
pipes in the corner of the room. The screen was
lit up the source of the buzzing, A notification flashing
on the screen. I reached out with trembling hands and
picked it up. The phone was locked, but the notification
was still visible, A message from an unknown number, why
(19:50):
aren't you answering me? My blood ran cold as I
stared at the screen. This wasn't my phone. I didn't
know whose it was or how it had ended up
in my boiler room, but the implications were terrifying. Someone
had been in my apartment and they had left their
phone behind. My mind raced as I tried to piece
together what was happening. I thought back to the strange occurrences,
(20:12):
the unlocked door, the open window, the moved items. It
all made sense now someone had been inside my apartment.
And then it hit me, Isabella, the questions she had
asked on our date. The way she had seemed so
interested in my apartment, in whether I lived alone. It
had all been an act, a way to get close
to me, to learn everything she could before making her move.
(20:35):
I dropped the phone, my hands shaking, and stumbled out
of the boiler room. I had to get out of there,
had to call the police, had to do something. But
as I reached for my phone, I heard a noise,
a soft creaking sound, like a door slowly opening. I froze,
my breath catching in my throat. The sound was coming
from the hallway just outside my bedroom door. Slowly I turned,
(20:59):
my heart pounding in my ears. The door to my
bedroom was ajar, just like the boiler room door had been,
and in the dim light of the hallway, I could
see a shadow, a tall, slender figure standing just inside
the doorway. It was her. For a moment, neither of
us moved. The only sound was the soft buzzing of
the phone still lying on the floor in the boiler room.
(21:20):
Isabella stood in the doorway. I could see her eyes
wide and unblinking, staring at me with an intensity that
made my blood run cold. She took a step forward,
and I instinctively backed away, my heart racing. My mind
was screaming at me to run, to get out of there,
but I was frozen in place, paralyzed by fear. Why
did you disappear? She whispered, her voice soft and eerily calm.
(21:43):
I didn't respond. I couldn't. My throat had closed up,
my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Why did you disappear?
She repeated, her voice growing louder as she took another
step forward. I forced myself to move, stumbling backward into
the living room. I needed to call for help, but
she was blocking the way. The door was behind her,
(22:04):
and I was trapped. She reached out her hand, trembling,
her eyes locked on mine. I thought you loved me,
she said, her voice breaking, tears welling up in her eyes.
MY mind was racing, trying to make sense of what
was happening. This wasn't the same girl I had met
on that first date. This was someone else, entirely, someone dangerous,
(22:25):
someone unhinged. I had to do something. I couldn't let
her get any closer. My eyes darted around the room,
looking for anything I could use to defend myself. But
before I could act, she lunged at me, her hands
reaching for my throat. I reacted on instinct, grabbing the
nearest object, a lamp on the side table, and swinging
it at her. It connected with a sickening thud, and
(22:48):
she staggered back, her eyes wide with shock and pain.
I didn't wait to see if she would recover. I
bolted for the door, wrenching it open and sprinting out
into the hallway. My hand were shaking so badly I
could barely dial nine one one, but somehow I managed.
The police arrived within minutes. By the time they got there,
(23:09):
Isabella was gone, but they found evidence of her presence,
her phone in the boiler room, fingerprints all over my apartment,
and even a small bag she had left behind filled
with personal items. They found her a few hours later,
hiding in an alleyway a few blocks from my apartment.
She was arrested and charged with stalking, breaking, and entering
an assault. It turned out that her real name was Silvana,
(23:32):
not Isabella, and she had a history of stalking and
mental health issues. The relief I felt when she was
taken into custody was overwhelming, but it was tempered by
the lingering fear that I hadn't seen the last of her.
The police assured me that she would be held accountable,
that I was safe, but it didn't feel that way.
(23:54):
I moved out of that apartment the next day, breaking
my lease and relocating to a different part of the city.
I changed my phone number, deleted my dating apps, and
did everything I could to put the experience behind me.
But the fear never really went away. Every time I
heard a creak in my new apartment, every time I
noticed something out of place, that cold dread would creep
(24:17):
back in, reminding me that I had been watched, that
I had been vulnerable.
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