3 Scary True Airbnb Horror Stories That Will Make You Rethink Your Stay

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:08):
I used to run out my garage apartment as an Airbnb.
For the most part, I never had any major problems,
so I never put the bookings through much scrutiny before
accepting them. However, if I ever decided to host on
Airbnb again, that'd be something I change about the way
I do things. I'm sure it was only a matter
of time before I had an experience with a guest
that was so deranged and so downright disturbing that I

(00:30):
had to stop hosting just so I would never have
to deal with anything like it ever again. The guest
in question was this guy I'll referred to as Kyle.
He was a single man in his early thirties that
wanted to stay for a week. He didn't mention that
he was traveling or anything. He just said he badly
needed a place to stay, which was a little unusual,
but I didn't think much of it. When I met

(00:52):
him to check in. He didn't have much stuff either,
just a duffel bag, a backpack, and busted up bicycle.
I could tell just by looking at him that he
was in the rough spot, maybe even homeless, which made
me wonder how he afforded the feet he seemed like
he hadn't showered her, taken care of himself in a
few weeks, and in general his demeanor was quite skittish. However,

(01:15):
at that point he wasn't rude at all. He was
actually quite gracious and appreciative. Despite him being this way,
I didn't treat him any different. After I gave him
the usual tour, I left him to his own and
I told him to do his own thing, like I
would tell anyone else. Unfortunately, as the days went by,
I gradually realized that Kyle was going to be problematic.

(01:36):
I could hear music blasting from inside constantly, and no
matter how many times I texted him to turn it down,
he never did. When I knocked on the door to
tell him in person, I would see his shadow moving
around inside and hear him frantically rummaging through stuff like
he was trying to hide something, but he didn't answer
the door. I debated entering with my own key, but
I decided against it. He was really starting to get

(01:59):
on my nerves more than anything, since I never had
to do that before. But the biggest red flag that
I should have taken more seriously was the smell that
emanated from the door. It was like burning plastic or something.
I had no idea what that stench could be coming
from at the time, but afterwards it became very clear
what he was doing in there and what was causing it.

(02:21):
I should have kicked him out a lot sooner, but
after several days, I figured I would just let him
stay until the end of his booking, since it wasn't
too far away. After he'd been there for a week,
it was finally time. Guests usually just leave when it
comes time to check out, and I was thankful for
not having to interact with him again. I was also
glad that the obnoxious music had finally stopped, but I

(02:43):
was nervous about going in and seeing what kind of
mess he made. I had to go in and look, though,
because I was the only one who was going to
clean it up, and let me just say, I was appalled.
Entire place was trashed. All the furniture had been moved around,
There was drunk all over the place, food stuck are
just about every surface in the kitchen, and one of
the pots was completely ruined from being caked in this

(03:05):
white substance that I couldn't identify for the life of me.
The whole apartment reeked too, with how bad of a
shape the garage was in. I was dreading to look
in the bathroom. Strangely, when I got there, the door
was locked. Annoyed, I left for a minute to go
into my house and grab a bobby pin so I
could unlock the door. But when I got back, the

(03:28):
bathroom door was open. The chair ran down my spine,
and I was suddenly very on edge. Just thin, I
heard a noise from the kitchen that made my heart sink.
It was glass breaking. I crept through the hallway and
stopped at the corner and slowly peeked around to look,
just to see Kyle standing there with a broken bottle
in one hand and a metal baseball bat in the other.

(03:51):
When I looked in his eyes, I could tell he
was twisted on something and seeing me cause him to
go ballistic and start screaming at me. Who are you?
Get out of my house. Don't mess with me. I
swear to God I'll kill you. I started to back
away towards the door, avoiding any sudden movements while I
tried to explain myself. Kyle, it's me the host. I

(04:12):
let you stay here, Remember, I don't remember. You don't
try to trick me, he said, I'm not lying to you,
I swear. Look, let's just talk about this. Can you
put all that down. You just started screaming at me
after that, telling me to shut up over and over again.
Then Kyle charged at me out of the blue, turned

(04:35):
around and ran right out the door. But just before
I was clear around the corner, I felt a glass
bottle smash into my back, shattering and cutting me up
pretty bad. I kept running though, until I was able
to get away safely. I got back into my house
and I locked the door. From there, I called the police.
I'm sure this stand off between Kyle and the cops
as a whole other story too, but unfortunately I missed

(04:56):
most of it. All I saw was them going with
four or five officers and come out carrying Kyle by
the hands and feet, double bound in handcuffs and screaming
bloody murder. As I found out, Kyle was smoking crack
the entire time he was staying in my garage apartment,
and he ended up getting so fried that he forgot
he was just a guest that was supposed to leave
after a week. After that, there was always a bad

(05:18):
taste in my mouth every time I thought about letting
another stranger stay on my property. So I canceled on
all my bookings and deleted my account. I don't think
I'll ever try my luck with it again. My husband
and I travel often, and we've grown up prefers staying

(05:40):
in airbnbs over hotels. It's homier, more unique, and more
personal experience, which we used to like because, rather than
getting checked in by some soul's desk jockey, he would
actually have a conversation with the host as human beings. However,
our most recent stay in airbnb is likely to be
our last. My husband and I have stayed in this

(06:01):
specific airbn behind two other occasions, and we really liked it.
That decor was very warm and compatible with shall we say,
romantic adventures. I guess. We booked this airbnb, which was
half of a duplex, when we went to San Francisco
to visit our old friends who lived in a really
nice community outside of the Bay Area. He spent a

(06:22):
lot of time with those friends, but we loved having
a place for us to spend some alone time that
didn't feel like your average stale hotel room. We started
to befriend the host too. He's a single man about
thirty five years old who lives alone with his cats.
My husband and I always noticed how enthusiastic he was
about hosting us. He would invite us over to his

(06:43):
side of the house for breakfast every morning, which we
usually accepted because he was a surprisingly good cook. It
was a bit strange to sit and eat with him, though.
Sometimes he asked a lot of questions, most of which
weren't that weird, but some of which were rather personal.
For instance, he'd ask us how long we'd been married.
Then he'd ask us if he plan on making any children.

(07:06):
I stressed that he just phrased it just that way,
as in making children. Then he would ask if we've
ever practiced the teachings of Kamasutra, if we wanted any
tips or advice, or even help switching up things in
the bedroom, at which point my husband would finally shut
him down with a few stern words. He ran into

(07:26):
awkward silences like that at least once every time we
ate with the host, but we suffered through it because
it was worth a delicious free food. Whenever it got tense,
I would try to lighten the mood with a joke.
One time, when the host had pressed us about our
fertility in the bedroom, I tried to proudly declare that
we definitely had all the bases covered to our liking.

(07:47):
I was hoping that it would be a funny end
to the subject, but it backfired. He started laughing hysterically,
like way too intensely. He was even having trouble speaking,
but he did eke out something that sounded like, oh,
I know you do. The suggestion of an invasion of
privacy really pissed off my husband, who stood up from

(08:08):
his seat very abruptly and yelled at the host, demanding
that he explained exactly what he meant by that. The
host stopped laughing immediately, then started it around for a
few seconds before eventually admitting that he had heard us
making love through the walls the other night. My husband
and I can be loud, so we were more or
less forced to accept his explanation that all happened the

(08:31):
second time we stayed. The third time we flew out
to see our friends, we were discussing where we wanted
to stay, and my husband brought up all the weird
things the host would say and suggested that maybe we
should go somewhere else. Unfortunately, we looked around for other
options and there just wasn't anything as high quality and
affordable and in the right location, so we settled. Literally

(08:52):
within minutes of making the reservation, the host texted us
through the Airbnb app, and he expressed an excessive amount
of excitement, saying that he loved us. He was so
happy we were choosing to stay with him again. We
kind of rolled our eyes and said, here we go again,
but at the time it was still a little funny.
When we arrived, the host tried to wait on his

(09:12):
hand and foot, but we had gotten in late because
our flight was delayed, so we were very tired, and
we asked to be left alone for the night. The
host was seemingly sad about this for a second, but
then as he walked away, he couldn't help but letting
out this telltale smile creep up on his face. My
husband didn't see it, but I did. I was about
to mention it to him, but I was distracted by something.

(09:34):
When we walked into the bedroom, we noticed right away
that it was different somehow, like things had been rearranged
since the last time we were there. We talked about
it for a few minutes, but I didn't think much
of it, and neither did my husband. You probably would
have fallen asleep within a few minutes if we didn't
realize that right after getting into bed that we hadn't
made love in a few days, because just from thinking

(09:57):
about it and being back in that room, we got
into the mood. I won't go into detail, but the
long and short of it is that there was a
lamp on the bedside table that wasn't there before, and
because we weren't used to it being there and our excitement,
we knocked it over. The whole thing broke apart when
it hit the floor, causing us to stop what we
were doing to pick up the mess. However, my husband

(10:19):
discovered something in the pile of broken ceramic, something that
had looked like a button just a few seconds ago,
a spy camera. My reaction was to feel like I
was about to throw up, but I've never seen my
husband's face go flush with such intense raids. So quickly
he got dressed and stormed out of the room, then
broke down the door into the host side of the

(10:39):
house and barged into his bedroom. I didn't follow, but
I listened. My husband threatened to kill him if he
didn't explain himself, after which there was an extended, heated interrogation.
I couldn't make it all out, but from what my
husband tells me, he got the host to admit, through
a great deal of crocodile tears, that he had been
spying on in the bedroom the entire time, and that

(11:02):
he had just put up additional cameras when he knew
we were coming again. We tried to get him to
delete all the footage, but the worst part is that
it was far too late for that. Because the host
is such a perverted weirdo, he posted the footage he
had of us to several porno websites, which essentially means
there's no way of knowing how many people have seen
us in our private time together, and there's practically no
way of ever completely erasing the footage from existence if

(11:24):
other people have already downloaded it. Needless to say, this
ordeal ruined more than just our vacation with friends, and
we are only in the beginning of the process of
pressing charges. Otherwise I would have been much more open
to exposing every little detail pertaining to him as a
way of getting revenge, but I'd rather see him rot
in prison, So I'm going to do this the right
way and keep this anonymous. There's a serious flaw in

(11:55):
the Airbnb system. If it's somebody's first time hosting, how
is anybody supposed to know what they might do? The
first few people who stay with them are putting a
lot of faith in somebody who's completely untested. I'm sure
ninety nine percent of the time it's all totally fine,
but then there's that one percent in my own experience,
that faith nearly got me killed, and it's left me

(12:17):
deeply traumatized. It was my first time using Airbnb. I
was going back to my hometown, but none of my
friends had room for me to stay with them, and
I don't exactly have their relationship with my family. That
makes staying with them a very viable option. Since there
aren't any good hotels in such a small town like mine,
and Airbnb seemed like the only good option. I didn't

(12:38):
pay any mind to the lack of ratings for the
place I picked and how the hosts had just joined
the platform a week ago. I really didn't think it mattered.
It was a fairly average looking guy a middle aged,
balding family man with enough money to own two properties.
When I got there, I realized that it was a
lot smarter than it initially seemed to be only two
bedrooms and one bathroom. The larger of the two bedrooms

(13:02):
was the one I was supposed to stay in. It
was in the back of the house with a window
facing into the backyard. The host talked to me for
a while before leaving. Strangely, even looking back, knowing everything
I know now, in the beginning, he was completely unassuming
of the person he turned out to be. Anyways, I
went out with my friends the first night, and I

(13:23):
came back late and intoxicated, crashing on the bed pretty
much immediately. I woke up some time in the afternoon,
hung over in groggy, pulling myself out of bed to
get up and use the bathroom. But when I tried
to open the bedroom door, it was locked. I turned
to lock the other way, but it didn't make a difference.
It still wouldn't open. I got a sinking feeling, but

(13:47):
I was still in disbelief. Was it really locked from
the other side? How is that even possible? Dumbfounded, I
walked over to the nightstand to grab my phone, but
it wasn't there. I knew i'd left it charging right
there by the bedside, but it simply wasn't there. My
mind was really starting to race. Maybe I'd left my

(14:08):
phone in my luggage, I thought, But yet again I
was stumped when I looked for my bags in the
closet and none of them were there. Panic and confusion
were setting in deep. I started pacing around the room,
just looking through the sheets and all the shelves and decorations.
But the more I looked, the more I became clear
that none of what I'd brought with me was in
the room. I took a seat on the bed to

(14:30):
try and call my nerves. I was feeling claustophobic in
the room and at a loss for what I could do.
I was also still hazy from the hangover, and I
was dehydrated with a splitting headache, And since I couldn't
get out of the room to get any water, I
thought to open the window and let in some fresh air,
and then if I couldn't figure anything else out, I
would just climb through. But to my horror, the window

(14:52):
that looked out into the yard yesterday was now boarded up.
My heart literally sank and I wanted to throw up.
All of a sudden, this can't be happening. I thought.
Everything reached a bowling point, and I snapped running to
the door. I was trying to beat it down while
screaming bloody murder for the host to come let me out. Then,
to my surprise, the door opened, but it came out

(15:15):
swinging so fast that it hit me in the face
and knocked me back. And came the host with a
goddamn shotgun pointed straight at me. The look in his
eyes and the tone of his voice, everything about him
was totally different. He had this twisted smile on his
face like a true serial killer, and everything he said
to me then I'm forced to remember. So you're finally up.

(15:41):
You were so out of it last night. You made
it easy for me to come in and set up
your room for what I plan to do with you.
Hey man, let me go, you sick son of a bitch,
I shouted back, only for him to level the shotgun
square in my face. He just pretty much told me
to shut up if I didn't want to make things
worse for myself. I then eyed the open doorway behind

(16:04):
him seriously considering trying to make a break for it
and get past him, but he saw where I was looking.
I wouldn't try that if I were you, he said.
The whole house is locked up. You and I are
going to spend a lot of time here together. Siko
just laughed and smiled. I don't care about getting away
with it. I've wanted to do something like this for

(16:24):
as long as I can remember. I'm going to break you,
he said. You'll suffer and suffer, and you'll beg me
to let you go. First, you'll be mad, you'll threaten me.
Then you'll say that you'll do anything I want. When
that doesn't work, when your soul is totally ruined from
everything I plan to put you through, you'll beg for
the sweet release of death. Then and only then will

(16:48):
I finally kill you. After that, I'm not sure how
long I'll gloat over your shredded corpse, but eventually, I
guess i'll take myself out too. I don't have any
intention of continuing this life in prison. Everything he said
hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt dizzy
and I had to sit down. This amused my host.

(17:10):
It's all settling in now, isn't it, he said, with
a smile. There's no way out of this for you.
I struggled to even look at him, but I had
to ask, don't you have a family or someone to
care of? His face turned sour when I mentioned family.
Clearly they weren't around anymore. I don't have anything left

(17:31):
to live for, he said, But you do. That's what
will make this whole process enjoyable for me, watching you
give up on it all my friends will still wonder
where I am, I said, suddenly finding the courage to say, look,
come looking for me. Yeah, and I'll know when they
text you that our time is up. He replied, At

(17:51):
which point, right when you think he'll be saved, he'll
actually be doomed. Isn't that a beautiful twist of fate?
He said. I fell silent. I still couldn't fathom what
was happening. I barely even heard what he said next.
A second later, he caught me off guard with the
butt of his gun, striking me square in the face.

(18:11):
I didn't fall unconscious, but I was so dazed that
I collapsed to the floor, and from there he continued
to beat me and kick me in the chest. After
he ran out of breath, he left the room and
locked me inside once again. I spent the next internity
trapped in that room, while I had no clue if
anyone was coming to help me. Every few hours he
would come back in and torture me. I was beaten, strangled,

(18:35):
cut and raped relentlessly, over and over again for four days.
My feet and hands were broken so I couldn't move
or fight back. I was bleeding internally and externally, and
just like he said would happen, my mind was completely shattered.
Got to the point that I almost wish you would
have gone through with killing me. At the end of it, however,
I forgot that I told my friends where I was staying,

(18:57):
and after I didn't come out to see them for
a few days, they went looking for me. But unlike
what the Siko said he would do, he squeezed out
every last second of torturing me that he could, and
when the police stormed his house, he blew his own
brains out and left me alive. But then again, I
really wish I wasn't