2 Disturbing Late Night Encounters

Two terrifying true horror stories that will make you double-check your locks tonight...

1️⃣ A young woman home alone with her dog begins hearing strange noises outside. As the night wears on, the sounds grow louder and more threatening—until she realizes someone is trying to break into her house.
2️⃣ A caretaker takes what seems like a simple job: look after an elderly woman in a quiet home. But something is very wrong.

Turn off the lights, grab your headphones, and prepare yourself for two chilling late-night encounters you won’t forget. 🔔 Subscribe for more creepy stories weekly.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:06):
This happened when I was about fifteen years old back
in two thousand eight. My parents went out to the
casino for the night, so it was just me and
my dog Abby home alone. It was about eleven p m.
And I was messaging some friends on Instant Messenger and
watching YouTube videos. As I was typing and chatting away,

(00:32):
I heard Abby barking at something in the living room.
I figured it might be my parents getting home, so
I just waited. After about a minute or so of
more barking and no sound of the door opening, I
got up and went into the living room to check
it out. Abby was facing the windows that looked out

(00:53):
onto our driveway, still barking. I couldn't really see outside
because the lights were off and it was really dark.
I peered through the window and saw only the one
car in our driveway, so I knew my parents hadn't
come home yet. I chalked it up to Abbey possibly

(01:15):
hearing a neighbor's car door slam shut or a particularly
loud car driving by, as we lived on a main
road with lots of noise even late at night. I
went back to messaging my friends, but over the next
five minutes I kept feeling like I heard noises around
my house. Abbey would stop and start barking again at

(01:40):
different intervals. I was about to get up and calm
her down when I could have sworn I heard a
knocking sound at the front door. I slowly made my
way back into the living room to look through the
windows again nothing. I was arding to get a little nervous,

(02:01):
and I was too scared to look into the people
in case some crazy face was staring back at me.
I double checked to make sure the door was locked
and was about to leave the room when the sound
of knocking suddenly came from the side door of my house.
I didn't know what to think. Was someone trying to

(02:24):
break in? Was it more than one person. I barely
had time to register those thoughts when I heard the
sound of the doorknob downstairs being jimmied, like someone was
trying to get in. The entrance to our basement from
outside was pretty hidden. To get to that door, you

(02:45):
had to walk around the entire house into our back
yard and go under the deck. You would either need
to already know the door was there or be really
determined to find a way in. Abby was whimpering and
barking louder than ever, running from room to room trying

(03:06):
to locate the threat. It felt like the whole house
was surrounded. The noises from the basement grew louder, and
it almost sounded like whoever it was had managed to
get the door open, because suddenly the noise stopped. I
held my breath and stood frozen in silence, waiting for

(03:28):
the next sound. Then Abby flew down the stairs and
started growling maniacally at whatever was down there. She was
a good natured black lab who had never heard a fly,
but in this moment I had never heard her sound
more threatening. It felt like I was frozen there for hours. Finally,

(03:53):
my fight or flight instinct kicked in when I realized
Abby had stopped barking and growling. I called for her
upstairs and locked the door inside the house that led
to the basement. I grabbed the home phone and ran
with Abby into the closet of my parents room, where
one of the guns we owned was stored. I sat there,

(04:16):
armed and ready, about to call nine one one when
I heard the sounds of the front door burst open.
Abby immediately sprinted out. I screamed for her to stop,
but then I heard the sounds of my parents voices.
I ran into the living room to see them petting
her and looking at me strangely. I spent the next

(04:40):
several minutes recounting the events of the night to my parents.
My mother was horrified, and my dad spent the next
hour searching every corner of the house, inside and out
with his gun in hand. We didn't find anything, and
I didn't sleep that night. The next afternoon, there was

(05:03):
a knock at the front door. My dad opened it
to find my uncle Pete standing there with an envelope
in his hand. Uncle Pete was a narcissistic creep to
say the least. He had always mistreated my aunt and
acted very weird around the kids and cousins at family parties.

(05:25):
Nothing illegal as far as we knew, but he just
had this way about him. You knew to try to
avoid him growing up, so I always felt a bit
anxious whenever he talked to me. I played softball, and
his daughter, my cousin, Kate, played in a league a

(05:46):
few years below mine. I loved my cousin, and I
always felt bad for her having such a creepy father,
so I would often give her tips or help her
team out with pitching and feeling lessons. My mother and
I waded around the corner eavesdropping, and we heard Uncle

(06:07):
Pete say something like I tried to stop by last
night to drop it off, but no one was home.
Shortly after, my dad slammed the door shut. My mother
stepped out and asked what happened. My dad, his face
quivering with anger, said that apparently Uncle Pete had been

(06:30):
the one stomping around the house last night trying to
get inside. He handed me the envelope and I opened
it to find a card with a gift card inside,
thanking me for helping his daughter with softball lessons. A
night of panic and terror, all at the hands of

(06:51):
my creepy uncle. My dad had threatened him on his
way out, and after that we never really spent time
with him again. Thinking about this story now, I'm glad
I found out who was behind the incident. Otherwise I
might have spent years wondering if it had been burglars,

(07:14):
a ghost, or something else. I'm thankful Abby was there
to protect me. She most certainly helped to scare him off,
But even so, I'm left with so many questions. Why
would he want to drop off a card so late
at night, And why wouldn't he get the hint that

(07:36):
we weren't home when no one answered the door. Why
didn't he try calling the house to see if we
were home? And worst of all, what would have happened
if he had gotten inside. I once worked as a

(08:00):
direct care aid for a sixty five year old woman
with a developmental disability, her daughter, Colleen, who was in
her forties, and needed someone with medical experience to watch
her mother overnight. When I say I worked for them,

(08:22):
I mean I literally worked just one night. And you're
about to hear why I never went back. The sixty
five year old woman's name was Martha, and Colleen was
the one who contacted me. It's possible Colleen didn't have
any other family to watch her, and she didn't want

(08:45):
to or couldn't afford to put Martha in a nursing home.
It's also possible she felt more comfortable hiring someone with
experience to care for her at the time. I was
all ready a direct care worker for two other women
with developmental disabilities, so I had experience, but nothing could

(09:10):
have prepared me for that night. Colleen left for work
earlier that day, I had already worked my first job,
so I was pushing my body to exhaustion trying to
make as much money as possible. Colleen introduced me to Martha,

(09:30):
who gave me a smile before Colleen took her upstairs
to her bedroom for the night. It was around nine
or ten pm. Colleen told me that Martha sometimes walked
around the house at night, acting confused, and that I
would need to calm her down and bring her back

(09:51):
to her room. She specifically told me that this wasn't
sleep walking, but a symptom of her mind dementia. I
reassured her that I would know how to handle it.
At first, I spent my time in the living room
catching up on a show. These jobs aren't glamorous, and

(10:14):
for the most part, it's a lot of sitting around.
After a while, I heard footsteps from upstairs. I went
to the staircase and looked up, calling Martha's name and
asked if she needed anything. There was no answer, but

(10:37):
I heard footsteps going back to her room and the
door closing. Maybe she went to the bathroom, I thought,
so I went back to the living room and watched
more TV. About an hour later, I got up to
grab a sandwich I had brought from the fridge. As

(10:59):
I left the kitchen with my plate and sandwich, I
nearly had a heart attack when I saw Martha standing
in the doorway. Glass shattered everywhere. I apologized and asked
if she was okay. She started yelling at me, who
are you? I reminded her who I was. I was

(11:23):
her direct care worker, here to make sure she was okay,
and she just kept screaming. I tried to remind her
that we had just met and that her daughter, Colleen,
had hired me to watch her and the house. This
finally seemed to calm her long enough to become comfortable

(11:45):
enough going back upstairs. I brought her a glass of
water and some melotonin, making sure she took it before
I went back downstairs. After a few hours, I was
absolutely exhausted and needed a couple hours of sleep. There

(12:05):
was a spare bedroom upstairs with a twin sized bed,
where Colleen had said I could rest if I needed.
I figured that Martha was asleep for the night after
the melatonin, so I allowed myself to fall asleep quickly,
But after only about an hour I woke up to

(12:26):
a sound from downstairs. It was a repeated slamming noise.
Every one or two seconds, something downstairs was being slammed.
I jumped out of bed, having left the bedroom door
open so I could hear if Martha got up. As
I reached the stairs, I realized that the slamming was

(12:49):
coming from the kitchen. I rushed down the stairs as
quietly as I could, and when I reached the bottom,
I peered around the corner into the kitchen. What I
saw was like a scene from a scary movie. Martha
was standing in front of the oven, repeatedly opening it

(13:12):
and slamming it shut. It was so dark in the
kitchen that she was only a silhouette. I called her
name loudly, and she stopped. She turned to her left
and shut the oven door one final time before walking
toward me, heading for the stairs. I asked in a

(13:35):
soft and scared voice if she was okay. She got
close enough that I could see her face, which was
blank and expressionless, before she passed me and started up
the staircase. I decided to follow her, and as soon
as she reached her bedroom, she slammed the door shut.

(14:00):
I knocked softly, asking if she was all right. But
she didn't respond. I quietly opened the door just enough
to peek inside, and there was Martha standing at the
side of her bed, facing the wall. It was one

(14:21):
of the most unsettling things I'd ever witnessed. I walked
over to her, gently easing her to the bed and
covering her with a blanket. I hoped that this would
be the final time. I said good night and shut
her door. I crossed the hall to the spare room

(14:42):
and tried to lay down again. I purposefully stayed awake
for at least half an hour, just in case she
woke back up, and eventually I fell asleep. Later, I
woke up, but the room was still pitch black. I
didn't know what had woken me up until I heard

(15:03):
a sound coming from inside my closet. The door was
cracked open, and there was the black shadow of a
head peeking out. My heart almost stopped Martha. I called softly,

(15:24):
but she didn't answer. I called her name again and again,
until finally she pushed the door open. She slowly started
crossing to the bed, repeating the same things she had said.
Hours ago. Who are you? I don't know you. Who
are you? Where did you come from? As she got closer.

(15:49):
I tried to calm her down and remind her who
I was. I fumbled to turn on the lamp next
to the bed, and to my horror, Martha held a
huge kitchen knife. At that moment, everything changed. Martha was

(16:10):
now a threat to my life and I had to
worry about protecting myself, not her. I screamed for her
to put the knife down, and her screaming seemed to escalate.
She started moving closer, repeating over and over. I don't
know you, I don't know you. It was not in

(16:34):
my job description to try and calm down a knife
wielding dementia patient. I quickly mapped out an escape route
around her and went for it. I jumped from the
bed to the far side of the room and bolted
out of the door. She screamed again, who are you

(16:55):
and swung the knife in the air as I ran past.
I made a downstairs, grabbed my shoes, and ran out
of the house. Instead of calling nine one one, I
called Colleen, as she had told me to do if
anything came up. She started screaming into the phone, telling

(17:16):
me I couldn't leave, But honestly, I yelled back, saying
that her mother had tried to kill me. Colleen ended
up leaving work early to come home. I stayed there
outside the house, keeping an eye on Martha to make
sure that she didn't leave. When Colleen returned, she went

(17:40):
inside to check on Martha, who was back in bed asleep.
She accused me of exaggerating the whole situation until she
found the knife next to Martha's bed. I decided not
to mention that I had gone to sleep for a
while earlier. I figured she would just end up blaming

(18:03):
me for what had happened, and I didn't feel I
had done anything wrong. She was the one who brought
up which room I could lay down in. But anyway,
I never went back there, and I never worked for
them again. In my nine years as a direct care aid,

(18:25):
the scariest patient I've ever dealt with, by far, was
Martha