Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 182 - Deadleaf Clover - Scary Stories and Rain

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Hey, welcome to Scary Stories and Rain.
I really hope you enjoyed this episode.
And don't forget you can subscribe to this podcast for
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Nintendo Switch to Mario Kart bundle.
Only 299 a month, no more ads. I have all the info you need in

(00:21):
the description to this episode.And one last thing, thank you so
much for being here. I really hope you enjoy.
I was lucky when I was a kid, I lived in the country and had
open minded parents that didn't really care where I went, what I
did or how late I stayed out. Call it bad parenting if you

(00:45):
want, but they trusted me to notget into too much trouble.
I of course did still get into trouble, but not of my own
making usually. Khalid was my best friend.
He lived right next door and during the summer.
It wasn't a question whether or not we were going to hang out.
It was understood that we were every single day.

(01:06):
He was one year older than me and he kind of acted like my Big
Brother. When crossing a small stream or
walking through thorns, I would hop onto his back and he would
hoof it with no complaints. Even though many times afterward
blood would trickle down his leg.
I never really saw him get scared.
Not of anything really, except the last day that I ever saw

(01:30):
him. One day in early July, we
decided to pack a backpack with snacks, Capri Suns and waters,
hike through the wilderness to abig beautiful oak tree that we
favored among so many around thearea.
This tree was perfect for climbing.
It had plenty of shade. It was the ideal place for two

(01:50):
kids to chill on a summer afternoon while discussing video
games and naked ladies. We walked over 2 miles without
any problems. But as we neared the tree, I
swear I could just feel this looming sense of something
different. Not necessarily something wrong,
just different from the norm. We had done this same walk and

(02:14):
climbed to this same tree dozensof times and I never had this
feeling before today. We reached the tree, both of us
sweating. It was really hot that day and I
was anxiously waiting to gulp down 80% of my water that I
brought. As we climbed the tree I heard
something. It sounded like someone or

(02:36):
something was below us, but whenI looked down nothing was there.
We settled onto the fattest branch that was great for
sitting with maximum shade. Khalid unzipped the pack and
tossed a Turkey and cheese sandwich at me, laughing as I
almost dropped it. I said dude.
He laughed and responded. Relax, I knew you wouldn't drop

(02:58):
it. We began eating and talking.
He was going on about a substitute teacher that he had
earlier that year who he swears had a crush on him.
Meanwhile, I was carving Goku into a tree right next to the
faded Cloud Strife. Suddenly a man spoke from right
below us. I, Khalid stopped mid sentence

(03:21):
and we both stared down at this man like a couple of deer about
to get plowed on the highway. Honestly, this man scared.
The crap out of me. We were in the middle of nowhere
and had never seen another person around here.
I was frozen but Khalid replied.Hi.
The man looked as if he was intentionally trying to look

(03:43):
creepy. He wore a dirty plain white
T-shirt and what looked to be old brown slacks that were
missing the button and were onlyheld up by the zipper.
He had long brown hair that was slicked back into a ponytail.
He stood there with an exaggerated upwards glare at us.
Imagine standing right up against the tall skyscraper,

(04:07):
putting your chin up to it and looking straight up.
That's what he was doing, all the while smiling from ear to
ear. Can you come down here please,
so I can show you this cool thing I just got?
I looked at Khalid, shocked at this question.
Khalid, without missing a beat, replied.

(04:28):
No thanks. The man's smile vanished and was
replaced by utter devastation, as if you just told him his
house burned down. The way his expression changed
in an instant was nothing short of terrifying.
That will break my heart, baby. Look, it's so sharp now.

(04:51):
I'm honestly not sure what was more alarming.
Him calling my friend baby, or the giant butcher's knife that
he revealed from behind him. He held it up so we could see it
clearly. It looked brand new and shined
as if it were covered in some kind of oil.
Khalid usually didn't show fear or hesitation when it came to

(05:12):
adults. But at that moment, when I
looked over at him, expecting him to shut this guy down, his
eyes were wide and I saw them fill with water.
In that moment, Khalid's reaction made this real.
We were in a very serious situation.
Khalid looked at me for the first time since this stranger

(05:35):
appeared. I could read his mind in that
moment, he was scared. He had no idea what to say or do
somehow. Don't ask me how I summoned
courage that I didn't know I hadand said to the man, It's really
cool. The man shifted his gaze from
Khalid to me. Get down here.

(05:59):
His smile returned. The courage I just spoke of was
gone in an instant. My eyes welled up.
Khalid forced words out, and I could hear the innate protective
instinct he had for me. He's not getting down.
We just got here and we're just hanging out.
We're not being bad. Those last words haunt me to

(06:23):
this day. They haunt me.
When Khalid spoke those last four words, I could tell they
were spoken while holding back full on tears.
I had never heard him sound and act like a little kid, but in
his pure fear, in that moment, he sounded like a six year old.
It was heartbreaking. He was scared.

(06:46):
I looked down at the man, tears streaming down my cheeks.
At this point, you're not in trouble.
I just want to show you this andI'll leave.
Promise. The man could definitely see
that I was crying and it didn't seem to bother him, which was
absolute confirmation to me thathe was in fact there to do us

(07:08):
harm of some kind. What happened next is the reason
I have therapy three times a week for over 20 years now.
Khalid looked at me and shut hiseyes tight, preparing to unveil
every ounce of courage that he had at his young age.
OK, I'll come down and see it, but just for a second, and then

(07:31):
we have to go. The man smiled wider.
Somehow with this, I thought yousaid you just got here.
What's the hurry now? Call it hesitated and responded
after four or five seconds. I know, but his mom said we
couldn't play anymore if I got him home too late.

(07:52):
I looked back and forth at Khalid and the man, having zero
clue what was happening now or what would happen next.
Good idea, better get home before it gets dark.
That's when the monsters come out.
The man's smile abruptly vanished again.
Come on now, get down, hurry up.Khalid looked at me and I shook

(08:16):
my head as tears erupted from myeyes as if to urgently say no.
Khalid whispered. I'll be right back.
I started shaking my head and was mortified to see the man
smiling and staring at me as I looked down at Khalid as he
descended. When Khalid was within reach,

(08:37):
the man put the knife away and with both arms grabbed Khalid's
arms gently. Here.
Careful. I got you.
I got you. Here.
Come over here and I'll show you.
The man started walking Khalid away, and Khalid looked up at me
one more time with pure fear on his face.

(08:58):
That strong, protective Big Brother was gone.
They disappeared from my view, and there was nothing.
It was as if nothing had happened.
I was sitting in this tree alone, listening to the wind
make its way through the branches, and for a moment I
imagined that I had made this trip solo.

(09:21):
None of this just happened. Khalid was safe somewhere else
and everything was fine. But it wasn't.
I heard nothing as I focused on hearing anything.
Anything at all. Minutes passed like hours and I
eventually came to the horrifying conclusion they were

(09:43):
not coming back. Adrenaline started to kick in
now and I needed to get down, tosee where they were, to leave,
to just not be in this tree by myself anymore.
When I reached the bottom with the backpack tightly strapped, I
looked around everywhere. Silence and nothing.

(10:06):
They were gone. I realized I had to get to
adults now. I had to let them know what
happened. And so I ran faster than I ever
have before or since, and when Ireached my house, I threw up on
my front lawn from exhaustion and pure desperation.

(10:27):
My mom was on the phone, sittingon the porch.
She promptly ended her call and came over to me.
The details from that point are typical.
Calls were made, searches were done.
They never found Khalid. They didn't find any trace of
him at all. It's been many years and I think

(10:49):
about my friend who was taken almost every day.
I would rather know what happened to him than win the
lottery. I would rather know that he was
killed than not know. Not knowing has made my life
black and Gray, sadness and without faith and goodness.

(11:11):
The only thing that helps is telling myself I was wrong.
The strong and protective Big Brother never left him that day.
It was never gone. It's the only reason I'm telling
this story now. He was my brother and he
protected me. I think he knew what would
happen, but he made sure it wasn't going to happen to me.

(11:37):
And that's not something I will ever take for granted.

(12:04):
Before I get into this story, I want to say that I'm an extreme
skeptic of anything having to dowith ghosts.
I have a hard time believing thethings in this story really
happened to me, so I totally understand if you can't believe
them. However, I just have to say it.
Everything that I'm telling hereis true.

(12:26):
This all started when I moved into the townhouse I currently
live in, so about four years ago.
It is a 2 bedroom, two floor home.
Living alone, sometimes you imagine things are happening in
your home that aren't. That's what I thought for the
first few months anyway. At first all it was is what

(12:46):
sounded like footsteps upstairs.These aren't new homes so at
first I figured it was just a house creaking, but I could
swear it sounded like distinct footsteps.
I never heard them when I was upstairs, only when I was
downstairs, so I thought it was the upper level just creaking.

(13:07):
About six months later my husband and I got married and he
moved in with me. Shortly after that we got a
kitten. All this time I still hear these
footsteps, but I don't say anything to anyone because I
honestly just don't think it's that weird until our cat starts
staring upstairs while she's downstairs.

(13:31):
If any of you have cats, you know this isn't really that
weird. Cats often do stare at places
with this look like they can seesomething that you don't.
So again, I try to just justify that this is normal cat stuff
until she starts backing away like she's scared.
That was the first time I even considered the possibility of a

(13:54):
ghost, but again I am an extremeskeptic so I tried to just
ignore it. Except it happens again and this
time my husband sees her do it. That's when I told him about the
footsteps. He looked at me and said I hear
them too. From then on we kind of joke

(14:15):
about them. Every time we hear them we say
it's just the shadow person. This goes on for about a year.
One night when my sister is over, she heard us joking about
it. She looked at us and told me
that she's been hearing it sinceshe stayed with me that first
summer. She says that they scare her.

(14:36):
She thought she was the only onewho noticed them.
So now I've confirmed that two other people and a cat also hear
these footsteps. It's far from confirmation of
the existence of ghosts, but I'mnot telling this story simply
because of footsteps we all heard.
No, it gets weirder. After about two months of living

(14:59):
here, we had our son. That's when all the activity in
the house picked up. We would hear the footsteps
almost every night. They started only sounding like
they were coming from my son's room.
Specifically, there is one stop directly next to his crib that
makes a very loud Creek and that's what I would hear.

(15:20):
The Creek would be so loud and sound so much like someone was
upstairs. My husband and I would actually
run up to check on our son because it legitimately sounded
like someone could be up there. Months of this went by and I
still was not convinced of any paranormal activity.
This next instance, though, would be what changed my mind.

(15:45):
My son had just learned how to point.
He would point at things to showme things to comment or to ask
what they were. We were downstairs and my
sister's cat was visiting. My son is pointing around the
room and suddenly he points to the top of the stairs, the same
spots that my cat occasionally looks at in fear.

(16:09):
He looks concerned and then scared and then starts almost
crying. This was the first time he has
ever acted like this. I then notice that my sister's
cat is looking in the same exactspot, doing the same exact thing
that my cat does. I got really freaked out by

(16:29):
this. I'm actually getting chills just
telling it now, remembering how scared my son was.
It was after this that I startedtelling people about it.
Some people looked at me like I'm crazy, but my sister and
husband completely believed me. It was hard to know if I was
exaggerating or if this was really happening until the week

(16:52):
I think it picked up my son. I have a Wi-Fi operated baby
monitor. If anyone knows what the Nan it
is, they'll know exactly what I'm talking about.
Basically this monitor records any activity that goes on in the
night. It will notify you for any
motion or sound and you can rewatch any activity later.

(17:16):
So I wake up 1 morning and look through the notifications from
the night to see how well my sonslept when I see a notification
that he was taken out of bed asleep at 4.
AMI played back the footage and could not see any reason for it
to give me this notification. My son did not move, nothing was

(17:38):
blocking the camera, and no one was awake at that time.
You can say it was an error, andmaybe it was, but I have not
gotten that notification before or since this incident.
That night I went to sleep with my window open.
I woke up to my husband kissing me goodbye.

(17:58):
I hear him go downstairs, get ready and walk out the front
door. Because my window was open, I
very clearly could hear him lockthe door and pull it.
Not once, not twice, but three times to confirm that it was
locked. I say this with certainty,
firstly because I heard it, but secondly because my husband has

(18:21):
mild OCD and he does the same thing literally every single
time he leaves the house. I went back to sleep.
When I woke up I found the same notification that my son was
taken out of bed while he was asleep.
I went in to check on him and hewas fine.

(18:42):
I went downstairs to get some coffee and on my way I look at
the front door. I noticed it was unlocked.
I opened it to confirm that it was indeed unlocked.
I'm now on edge. I call our complex to make sure
no one came in while we were asleep.

(19:02):
No one did. When my son wakes up, I go to
get him ready and he starts looking in the hallway the same
way he did the first time. This time we are upstairs with
it. Usually we are downstairs, but
now my son is looking directly behind me and starts crying.

(19:23):
I'm not going to lie and say that I feel some evil presence
there, but I did feel something,like something was watching me.
I quickly closed the door so that my son could not see
anything anymore and I said veryloudly and firmly, please go
away. You are not welcome here.

(19:44):
You're scaring him. It was something my sister told
me to say. I felt a little ridiculous
saying it, but at that point I didn't know what else to do.
I did instantly feel like I was not being watched anymore and my
son stopped crying. So we went about our day like
normal. That day turned into a year.

(20:07):
I never mentioned this to anyonebecause I thought they may not
believe it because I didn't. But I don't hear those footsteps
anymore. In fact, I haven't heard them
once since that morning. Last night my husband and I were
talking and I asked him if he had heard the shadow person
recently. He said actually no, I haven't

(20:30):
heard it in a long time so I told him what happened.
He was shocked because we realized not a single thing has
happened since I asked them to leave.
I guess that's why I'm telling this.
Him not hearing anything was kind of the confirmation I
needed to realize that it was real.

(20:53):
I don't think it was an evil ghost or intended any harm to my
son. I think whoever it was just
maybe liked him and wanted to watch him sleep or something.
Maybe they were lonely. Whatever the reason, I hope they
are free now and no longer stuckto my home.

(21:39):
It was a hot and sticky August in 1999.
I was 19 years old, young, looking forward to spending the
afternoon with my little brothers and family, just
relaxing. I remember I was walking out of
the kitchen where our telephone hung on the wall.
Remember the days when the phonewas attached to the wall and the
receiver attached to a cord? I missed those days, but I

(22:02):
digress. As I was walking into the dining
room through the swinging kitchen door, my parents old
Cape Cod the phone rang. I thought nothing of it as I
picked up the phone and cradled it to my ear.
Six months earlier my good friend had gone on a weekend
retreat and met someone she was convinced I needed to get to

(22:23):
know. I eventually caved and said she
could give him my phone number. Egan was a couple years older
than me and as we began chattingon the phone, you know the one
connected to the wall in the cord, it seemed we had a lot in
common. We both enjoyed spending time
with friends and family, the outdoors, being involved in our

(22:43):
communities. The first time we met was in a
park in my hometown. We just sat in the grass
watching the ducks and talking. At the end of the afternoon he
asked if he could take me on a real date soon.
I said OK because that seems to be the natural progression of
things. I don't recall which restaurant
we went to or what I ate, but I do remember what I wore.

(23:08):
A knee length red bouncy dress and he showed up to pick me up
with a dozen red roses in hand. It was an almost fairy tale,
like evening roses. A pretty dress, a gentleman
dressed in slacks, dress shoes and a button down shirt.
Dinner at a nice restaurant witha movie.
Afterwards, he dropped me off athome.

(23:31):
We chatted for a while and he promised he would see me again
soon. After that first real date, I
began receiving cards and letters in the mail several
times a week. As a hopeless romantic, it was
very endearing in the beginning.If I recall correctly, we did go
on one or two more casual dates.The letters and cards kept

(23:53):
coming and we chatted often on the phone.
Then one afternoon, I received acollect call from Eagan, who was
in jail. I accepted the call and he began
speaking frantically as if to try and justify or explain why
he was calling collect from jail.
By the end of our telephone conversation, I knew that he had

(24:14):
gotten in trouble as a minor on a few separate occasions and was
on probation. This was the first time I became
aware of that, and I was shaken.Egan called a few times after he
got out of jail, but things justdidn't feel right.
After the previous conversation,I explained that I didn't think

(24:34):
pursuing a relationship was a good idea and declined any
offers to come visit. The letters and cards continue
to arrive several times a week, and the longer I refused to
respond, the more threatening they became.
I vividly remember one of the last letters I received from him
which wrote Dear Nora, I love you, I want you back, it will be

(25:00):
your blood they find. At the end of reading that
letter I was shaking, terrified and unsure of what to do next.
With some advice from my mom anda few phone calls, I was able to
get in touch with Egan's probation officer and report the
letter to him. The probation officer stated
that he would talk to Egan and that I shouldn't have any

(25:22):
problems going forward and to let him know if he continued to
send letters. The next few months were quiet,
the letter writing stopped and Islowly went back to a normal
routine of not fearing with the mailman would bring next.
Until that sticky August afternoon in 1999.

(25:43):
The phone rang. I picked it up and held it
against my ear. Hi Nora, this is Steve Egan's
probation officer. Are you with one of your
parents? Can you get your mom and can I
speak with both of you? Before I tell you what's
happening, I need to know that you are sitting down and that
you have someone close by. My heart started racing, I

(26:06):
started shaking. I can feel the sweat that was
already just under the surface start to run down my back and I
think I'm going to throw up. Egan's probation officer goes on
to tell me that he was recently caught mutilating things.
His behavior was escalating and he was on the run.

(26:26):
My name had also come up in conversations that Steve had
with Egan. Due to the combination of his
behaviors and verbalizing my name.
I should leave town with my family as quickly as possible
and stay somewhere else that Egan didn't know about.
Stay there until we receive a call that Egan was in custody
and things would settle down. I also was not to go anywhere

(26:49):
alone if I was in my car, even with someone else, I needed to
make sure my windows and doors were locked at all times, and I
absolutely should not venture out of the house after dark.
In just a matter of a few hours,my family and I were packed up
and headed to a cabin that my grandparents owned.
I didn't know if it would be a few days, a few weeks, or longer

(27:13):
before he was caught and when I could even go back home.
Three days later I received a call that he had been picked up
and that my family and I could return home.
Three days that felt like 3 years.
Those letters haunt me. I still get a knot in my stomach

(27:33):
at times when I go to get the mail.

(28:00):
The town of Ingleswood was in the middle of nowhere, according
to the map. I've never heard of it before,
and neither had any of my friends when I'd asked them
before leaving. Even more strange was receiving
correspondence from a relative Ihaven't spoken to since I was a
young child. It had come out of nowhere, a
letter proclaiming my great uncle to be dead and informing

(28:23):
me that I had inherited a slaughterhouse in a town I had
never even heard of. A slaughterhouse of all things.
I might have thought it was a prank had there not been a
rusted metal key included in theletter.
Somehow, part of me knew the keywas real, and that it belongs to
the slaughterhouse my great uncle had once owned.

(28:46):
The ownership had been passed onto me for reasons as of yet
unknown, and I would have to drive up there in order to
settle the inheritance. Which is why I was currently
driving down a long Serpentine Rd. through a dense cluster of
trees. It was still early afternoon,
but the sky was Gray and heavy, casting a dismal pall over the

(29:08):
forest. Shadows crept out of the trees
and onto the road, making it difficult to see without my
headlamps. I shuffled forward in my seat,
hands gripping the wheel tighteras the trees grew around me.
I've been driving for just over 3 hours now, and it had been at
least 30 minutes since I had last seen another car.

(29:30):
According to my map, I should bealmost there, yet I hadn't seen
any sign of civilization. Nothing but empty fields and
abandoned ramshackle buildings in the middle of nowhere.
And now this forest that seemed endless and labyrinthine.
The tires hit something in the road and the car jerked,

(29:50):
throwing me forward in my seat. I slammed my foot on the brakes
and the car skidded to a stop, gravel hissing beneath the
tires. I glanced into my rearview and
spied a shadow on the road, but I couldn't tell what it.
Was had I hit an animal or something?
I hadn't seen anything. I debated ignoring it and

(30:12):
driving off, but in the end I cut the engine and climbed out
of the car. The air beneath the trees was
cold, and goosebumps prickled the back of my neck as I walked
over to the misshapen lump on the road.
The smell hit me first, The smell of old, rotten blood.
It was an animal carcass, a rabbit perhaps, or something

(30:36):
else. It was too mangled and bloodied
for me to tell. Flies buzzed around the torn
flesh, the Gray glint of bone poking beneath the fur.
Whatever it was, it had been dead for a while.
I stood up and shook my head, lip curling against the stench.
I'd moved it off the road, but Ididn't have anything with me

(30:58):
that would do the trick, and I would rather not touch it
without proper protection. I would have to leave it.
Maybe carrion birds would. Come and pick it clean later.
I returned to my car, feeling a little bit nauseated, and drove
off, watching the dead animal disappear behind me. 15 minutes

(31:18):
later, I finally broke free fromthe forest.
Muted Gray sunlight parted the clouds, dappling the windscreen.
On the other side of the trees were more fields, still empty.
I found it odd that there was nocattle around, no sheep or pigs
either. What was the use of a
slaughterhouse if there was nothing to slaughter?

(31:40):
In the distance I glimpsed a small cluster of buildings.
It was more like a settlement than a town, stone and brick and
straw. Not the kind of place I'd
expected to find myself inheriting a building.
Had my great uncle really lived out here in the middle of
nowhere? Was that why I have never heard
of him? The road turned loose and rutted

(32:03):
and the car jerked and bumped asI drove closer to the town.
A small sign weathered and covered in mud, red.
Welcome to Ingleswood. At least it had a sign the place
wasn't a made-up town after all.I pulled the car to a stop at
the side of the road and pulled out my map again.

(32:24):
The letter had contained specific coordinates to the
slaughterhouse, which according to the map.
Was a little distance away from the town itself on the very
borders. If I followed the road for a
couple more miles and then took a left, I should arrive at the
house. A flutter of nervous energy
tightened my stomach. I didn't really know what to

(32:46):
expect when I got there or what I was going to do about the
situation. The only reason I had driven
down here was to get a better understanding of things, assess
the area and try and figure out what to do Should I sell the
slaughterhouse or move here? The latter option didn't sound
particularly appealing after getting a glimpse of the area,

(33:09):
but I wouldn't know until I had a proper look around.
I followed the loose gravel Rd. for a little while longer before
spotting a turn off to the left.The remains of a broken
Stonewall lined the path, and I spotted another sign that was
too rusted to read, signaling toturn even though there were no
other cars in the area. I followed the path through the

(33:32):
sheltered wooded area until I reached a small house.
It was more of a cottage, really, with white bricks and a
thatched roof. The place had an air of
dilapidation about it, as thoughnobody had lived here in a
while. Considering my great uncle had
only recently passed away, I knew that wasn't true.

(33:54):
Beside the house was a large freestanding shed.
A rusted padlock was chained around the doors, and I knew
without a doubt that the key I've been given was the key to
the shed. Did that mean the shed was the
slaughterhouse? I parked the car in the grass
and climbed out. The air out here was fresh and

(34:16):
pleasant, a nice change from thecity, though beneath the
fragrance of nature I could. Smell something else?
Something darker, richer. Old blood and rust and butchered
meat. I threw a brief glance at my
surroundings. My gaze skimmed past the trees

(34:36):
and the fields and the faint curl of smoke blotting the
distant sky. I couldn't hear anything beyond
the wind. No birdsong, no chittering bugs.
I couldn't hear cars or people or anything that would suggest
there was a town nearby. I let out a sigh.

(34:56):
Maybe it would feel lonely living out here.
I was used to the city after all.
I grabbed my rucksack from the trunk and fished out the letter
and the key. I've been given no key to the
house, which was odd. I had phoned my great uncle's
executor before driving out here, but apparently all
material belongings were still inside the house and the shed

(35:20):
key was the only thing that had been passed on to me directly.
I walked up to the cottages doorand tried the handle locked.
Unsurprisingly. If I couldn't figure out a way
to get inside I would have to call a locksmith out here, which
could take hours. Muttering and frustration, I
began rooting around the rocks and broken plant pots sitting

(35:43):
outside the cottage. Whatever plants had once resided
there were now withered and shriveled, their roots black and
gnarled as they poked through the soil.
I turned one of the empty pots over and grinned when my eyes
caught a glint of silver. I hadn't had my hopes up, so
finding the key immediately lifted my spirits.

(36:04):
At least now I could get inside the house.
Leaving the slaughterhouse locked for now, I headed inside
the cottage. The air was stale and heavy with
dust, and my eyes immediately started to water.
How long had it been since anyone had opened that door?
I wasn't familiar with the circumstances of my great

(36:25):
uncle's death, so I wasn't sure if he had spent his last moments
in the house or not. That thought made me shudder as
my nose picked up on the smell of damp and mold.
Apart from some minimal furnishings, the house was
mostly bare. I didn't know what kind of man
my great uncle was, but apparently he didn't like

(36:47):
clutter and he very rarely dusted.
I ran a finger over to the sideboard in the hallway and
grimaced at the thick layer of dust clinging to my skin.
If I did decide to stay here, itwas going to take a lot of work
to get this place up to standard.
The longer I stayed here, the more I wanted to leave without

(37:08):
looking around, but I couldn't ignore it forever.
At some point I would have to assess the state of the
slaughterhouse and make a decision about what to do with
it. I went through each room,
casting a cursory look over the furniture and testing the
electricity and water supply. Everything still seems to be

(37:28):
running, which was a bonus. I had already planned to stay
the night here, so having hot water and lighting would make
things easier upstairs. I paused on the landing to peer
out the window. At the back of the house was a
field of brown uncut grass and some stilted shrubs.
I could just see the edge of theshed beside the cottage, the old

(37:51):
woods stained and weathered. In the distance I could see the
cluster of houses that formed the village.
As I was about to turn away, I glimpsed movement at the edge of
the property amongst the tree line.
Someone stood between the trees,watching me.
I couldn't get a good view of their face, but in the brief

(38:13):
glance it seemed Gray and hollow, like wax.
The figure darted away through the trees and disappeared.
I frowned. That unease from earlier
returning was it a villager? Shaking it off, I searched the
upstairs room, a large master bedroom and a bathroom.

(38:36):
A linen cupboard and a smaller guest bedroom was all that was
up here. Like downstairs.
Everything up here was old and rundown, covered in a thick
layer of dust and mildew. I closed the bedroom door behind
me and went back down into the kitchen where I'd left my
rucksack. The rusted key to the slaughter

(38:56):
house sat on the table where I had left it.
I figured it was about time I went to see what I was dealing
with next door. Grabbing the key, I left the
house and went across to the shed.
The metal of the padlock was icecold against my fingertips as I
inserted the key and twisted it.The lock fell away and the door

(39:17):
edged open with a creak. Shadows spilled out across my
feet. I peered into the darkness as I
gripped the edge of the door andpulled it open further.
The air inside smelled stale andold.
That same undercurrent of old blood ran beneath the surface.

(39:37):
Drawing in a deep breath, I pushed the door the rest of the
way and stepped inside, letting the dull afternoon light filter
inside. The slaughterhouse was nothing
like I had been expecting. Inside was nothing but an empty
shed. The wood was damp and starting
to rot, the ground full of old hay.

(40:00):
There was no equipment that you would expect of a
slaughterhouse. No cold room to store the meat,
It was just an empty shed. Perhaps it wasn't a functioning
slaughterhouse after all. But then why had it been called
as such in the inheritance? Something glinted in the
sunlight, and I looked up. Several large metal hooks hung

(40:23):
from the ceiling, the kind that you hung meat onto.
But what was the point when there was nowhere to prepare it?
Unless I was missing something, this was a plain old shed with
some leftover meat hooks still stuck to the ceiling.
I raked a hand through my hair inside.

(40:44):
Was it a waste coming all the way out here?
I shook my head. Not a waste.
I still had to figure out what to do with this place now that
it was legally mine. Leaving the slaughterhouse, I re
locked it and pocketed the key before heading back into the
house. It was getting on in the
afternoon and I was tired from driving all morning so I decided

(41:08):
to grab a bite to eat while I considered my options.
By the time evening had rolled around, I still hadn't made-up
my mind about this place. There wasn't much merit to
staying here if the slaughterhouse couldn't actually
be used, and I didn't particularly fancy being stuck
in the middle of nowhere. I could sell it, but not as it

(41:28):
was. It would take a bit of work to
get it into a decent state and make it appealing to a potential
buyer. The final option was to just
leave it here gathering dust, but that seemed a waste.
I had debated heading to the village to see who lived around
here, but after spying that strange figure watching me from

(41:49):
the trees, part of me had been reluctant to venture too far
from the house. Maybe I would walk down there in
the morning. As dusk grew outside, shadows
encroached further into the cottage and a chill crept into
my bones. I turned on most of the lights
and went around drawing the curtains to block out the night.

(42:11):
I wasn't fond of sleeping in unfamiliar places, so I spread
my sleeping bag on the floor of the downstairs sitting room
instead of upstairs. Using hot water from the
kitchen, I made myself some instant noodles and ate them
from the packet, listening to the radiator clank and groan as
it rattled to life. Being on my own in a strange

(42:34):
house was starting to make me feel a little unsettled, so I
turned on the television to fillthe silence.
Nothing but static burst from the screen, so I switched it off
just as quickly. With nothing else to do, I
headed to bed early. I nestled into the sleeping bag
and spread another blanket over me to ward off the chill and

(42:56):
fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow.
I woke up early the next morningto the sound of someone tapping
at the window. Blinking away the grogginess in
my eyes, I sat up. The room was still, dark shadows
lingering around the edges. I reached over to a switch on
the lamp and stretched the cricks out of my neck from

(43:17):
camping out on the floor all night.
What was making that noise? The curtains were still drawn,
but I could see movement in the gaps around the edges.
Climbing swiftly to my feet, I walked over to the window and
tentatively pulled the curtain aside.
Peering out, a beady black eye stared back.

(43:39):
It was a crow. Ruffling its ink black feathers.
It tapped its beak 3 more times against the glass before flying
away. I watched it.
Go frowning. Dawn had yet to break, and the
sky was still in the clutches ofnight.
According to my watch, it wasn'teven 5:00 AM yet.

(44:01):
I was awake now, though, so I dragged myself into the kitchen
to get some instant coffee on the go.
I'd slept right through the night, but I remembered having
strange dreams in the midst of it.
Dreams about meat and flesh and bloodied metal hooks, No doubt
because of the circumstances I'dfound myself in.

(44:22):
When I returned to the living room, I found the key to the
slaughterhouse sitting on top ofmy rucksack.
I thought I had left it on the kitchen table, and seeing it
elsewhere left me momentarily disconcerted.
Had I moved it there? I must have.
There was nobody else here but me.

(44:42):
Maybe I'd slept less well than Ihad thought.
I didn't trust the pipes enough to have a hot shower, so I
changed into a fresh pair of clothes and drank my coffee
until it grew light. Outside it was another damp Gray
day, and the forest was as silent as it had been last
night. Wherever that crow had flown off
to, it wasn't anywhere close by.Once it was light enough to see

(45:07):
by, I grabbed the key to the shed and went outside to
investigate. I didn't expect it to look any
different, but maybe having had a full night's rest would give
me a different kind of insight into what to do with the place.
I unlocked the door, letting thepadlock and chain fall to the
ground with a heavy thump, and pulled it open.

(45:29):
Inside was dim, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust.
As soon as I glanced inside, I froze, my heart lurching into my
throat. The slaughterhouse was no longer
empty. Thick slabs of dark meat now
hung from the rusted hooks, the air thick with the smell of
flesh and blood. Where had it come from last

(45:53):
night? There had been nothing in here.
The shed had been locked and as far as I was aware, the only key
to open it was in my possession.How had this meat gotten in
here? And who was?
Responsible. I took a step inside, feeling
perturbed and perplexed by the discovery.
There was just under a dozen chunks of flesh, all lean and

(46:17):
expertly cut, glistening red in the morning light.
I wasn't familiar with meat in this form, so I couldn't tell
which animal it belonged to, butI could tell it had been
prepared recently. All of a sudden I felt unnerved
and unsafe. What was?
Going on here. This was supposed to be my

(46:38):
property, yet someone had clearly been creeping around
here last night, hauling slabs of meat into my shed.
I didn't like the thought of it at all.
As I tried to sift through my thoughts, I heard approaching
footsteps from behind. My heart pulsed faster as I
turned around, not sure what to expect.

(47:00):
A group of about 20 people were approaching the property from
the trees. The first thing I noticed about
them was their gauntness, like that mysterious figure I had
seen in the forest. Their skin was pallid and their
flesh sunken, their clothes hanging like rags off Bony
shoulders. They looked starved.

(47:23):
Mate, One of the strangers cried, their voice hoarse and
brittle. We have meat again, someone
echoed. We are saved.
What? I muttered, stumbling back in
surprise at the group of people,presumably from the village,
drew closer. What's going on?

(47:46):
You brought us meat, you saved us, The older villager at the
front of the mob said, reaching out his hands in a thankful
gesture. Before I could do or say
anything, the villagers piled into the shed and began removing
the meat from the hooks, slinging it over their shoulders
with joyful cries. Wait, what are you doing?

(48:09):
I blurted, aghast at their actions.
The man from before tottered up to me, his eyes sunken and his
cheeks hollow. Thank you, we are so happy the
slaughterhouse has a new owner. He seemed about to turn away, so
I quickly grabbed his arm, my fingers digging into his flesh.

(48:32):
Wait, what's going on here? Where did this meat come from?
A slow smile spread across the man's face, revealing pink,
toothless gums. You don't know this place is
cursed, See. He pointed into the shed and I
followed his gaze. Fresh meat was starting to grow

(48:54):
from the hook, materializing from thin air.
The flesh grew and expanded until it was the same size as
the others, and one of the villagers quickly removed it
from the hook. I stared in bewildered silence,
struggling to piece together what I was seeing.
What was happening here? Where was the meat coming from?

(49:19):
How could it just appear like that?
I still don't understand. I finally uttered in a horse
whisper. It felt like I was in the middle
of a dream or a nightmare. The hooks give us flesh, the man
said. I shook my head.

(49:40):
But where does it come from? This flesh that never stops
growing on these hooks is the flesh of the slaughterhouse's
owner. It's your flesh, the man
explained, his dark eyes glistening in the dimness behind
me. Meat continued to grow from the
hooks, and the villagers continued to harvest it.

(50:04):
My flesh? I whispered, the words sticking
in my throat. What do you mean?
I looked down at myself. I was still intact.
How could it be my flesh? It's a reproduction of your
flesh. This flesh never rots, never

(50:24):
goes bad. It is as alive as you are.
The man still wasn't making sense.
How could it be my flesh? How is any of this possible?
The villagers, this place were crazy.
The longer I stayed, the more danger I would be in.
I had to leave as soon as possible.

(50:46):
As if reading the thoughts on myface, the man placed a hand on
my arm, a warning look in his eye.
There are conditions you must follow, however.
He said, his voice a low rasp. If you ever leave this town,
your bond to this place will be broken and the flesh will start

(51:07):
to rot. My mouth went bone dry, the
ground feeling unsteady. Beneath my feet.
You mean. The man nodded.
When the meat begins to rot, so do you.
Your body will decay and eventually perish, and we, the

(51:28):
ones who rely on your flesh, will starve.
You have no choice but to stay here for the rest of your life
and feed us with the flesh from your body.
That is your duty, he said, tightening his old crooked
fingers around my arm. There is no escape.

(51:50):
You must accept your fate or wither away, just like the owner
before you. I was standing with my older

(52:25):
brother, both of us smoking outside my parents porch.
My family and I grew up in a very superstitious part of the
American Southwest, I guess you could say in a part of America
where all there is, is a very strong fear of skinwalkers.
I know, I know, another skinwalker story, but what I

(52:46):
witnessed alongside my brother felt chillingly real.
A few years before this incident, my older brother and I
encountered something in our parents backyard, so we have
always been a bit on edge at night around our neighborhood.
I still am to this day. That, and we grew up in a
culture that discourages people from wandering around at night

(53:09):
without some sort of cultural blessing.
But we were a few years older, smoking our cigarettes, catching
up because my brother was attending College in the city
and I was finishing up my junioryear in high school.
I was rambling on about something when I saw my
brother's startled look out at the neighbor's yard.
I looked over at what he was staring at and found myself

(53:33):
looking at a shadowy figure standing outside of our
neighbor's house. And it's hard to describe this
shadow as its figure was basically blacker than the night
outside, the dim glow of the streetlights having an almost
shadow radiance, if that makes any sense.
It was standing on the side of our neighbour's house, and while

(53:53):
I couldn't see its face, I knew that it was staring at our
neighbors draped windows. My brother and I looked at each
other with disbelief. We had both heard the stories
about skinwalkers roaming aroundat night.
I mean, we both witnessed that sort of thing years ago, but it
was only a glimpse, followed by hearing the most otherworldly,

(54:15):
horrifying howl that sounded both human and animal.
But this was different. It was like seeing something
that we were never meant to see,something even more sinister.
We said nothing to each other, turning our gaze back towards
the figure, which was still staring at the neighbor's

(54:36):
window. After what seemed like a long
moment, the figure started to slowly turn and walk to our
neighbor's backyard. But the way it moved was a
surreal sight. It looked to be moving both slow
and fast at the same time, like jogging in place, except it was
gliding along. Then it moved towards a group of

(54:58):
neighborhood dogs, and I knew these were neighborhood dogs
because I recognized almost every one of them under the dim
tangerine backyard light, but they weren't scared by the
shadow figure. In fact, they looked to be
welcoming it. The dogs formed a crowd outside
the figure, which stopped, and Iswear to this day it morphed

(55:21):
down onto all fours, spraying a black tail, and disappeared into
the night with the group of neighborhood dogs following.
I looked at my brother and asked.
Dude, what did you put into these cigarettes?
We both nervously chuckled, but we knew what we saw and hurried
back inside, making sure we tookour cigarette butts with us

(55:46):
inside. Our dad and younger brother were
asleep, but our mom was still up.
We told our mom what happened and she instructed us to go
outside to get some wood to burn.
She smeared ash onto our foreheads and we ventured
outside to gather some firewood.While walking towards the wood
pile, we noticed that our streetlight, which was on when we were

(56:07):
heading back inside after stamping out our cigarettes, was
now out the only street light out in the entire neighborhood.
We saw it as a sign of somethingbeing around and hurried to
gather the wood. Right when we were about to head
inside, we could smell it, the strong, putrid scent of a dead

(56:29):
animal. We knew right there and then
that we were in the middle of all those stories that we had
heard about skinwalkers. We didn't stop to take a look
around. Instead, we made haste back into
our house and built a fire. We told our mom what we smelled
outside and she marched outside with a fresh tin of ash to

(56:49):
confront whatever was out there.She yelled in English and her
native language to leave us alone.
We've not done anything to you and commanded for it to leave by
the traditional ways. She sprinkled ash outside our
front porch and back porch and anchored a bow and arrow above

(57:10):
the door leading out towards theback porch.
We slept that night without any more incidents.
Months later, when I moved to the city to live with my older
brother and work for the summer,I get a call from our mom.
She told me that the neighbor who lived in the house that the
shadow figure was outside of died of cancer.

(57:34):
Whatever we saw that night stillchills me to this day.

(58:03):
I should start my story by letting everyone know that I
decidedly do not believe in ghosts.
I was raised in a religious homeand I still hold those beliefs
now as an adult. The Bible is fairly clear about
ghosts. It's OK if you believe something
different, but I think it's important to the context of this
story for you to understand mine.

(58:24):
However, I do believe in spirits, both good and evil.
I'm not sure which of those was involved in this experience, but
I do believe that is what I encountered when I was a senior
in high school. My teenage angst reached a fever
pitch. I was convinced that I was more
knowledgeable about the real world and what I considered

(58:46):
fairness than my dad and stepmother.
As such, I moved out of my home about 6 months before
graduation. I knew a group of guys that
lived in the house about 30 minutes away.
This house belongs to one of theguy's parents until they had let
the bank foreclose. I'm not sure of the details
exactly, but the bank hadn't completed the foreclose and we

(59:10):
all lived there with only the utilities as expenses.
It was a large house, 2 stories,4 bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths.
There were only three guys living there at the time so they
had an open room. I somehow got them to agree to
my living there for only 100 bucks a month, which was a big
steal, especially considering I only had a part time job at that

(59:35):
time. One of the guys was never there
at all, living with his girlfriend.
I think. One guy, we'll call him Jimmy,
was going to college and workingfull time.
He would crash in town sometimes, so he was only there
for about two nights a week. The other roommate, who we'll
call Brad, was only there two orthree nights a week, I don't

(59:56):
remember why though. Obviously I spent the majority
of the week at the house alone. One of these nights I was alone.
I turned the light out and got on my mattress on the floor.
I had nothing to my name but a mattress and a weapon at this
stage of life. I was just starting to drift off
to sleep and could hear someone walking around downstairs.

(01:00:19):
I thought Jimmy was home as he was the only one who would get
home at this hour. One other thing you should
understand about the house was that all of the bedrooms were
upstairs, mine being right at the end of the stairs.
The stairs went up halfway, turned 90°, and continued up to
the second floor to a hallway. So anyone who went up the stairs

(01:00:42):
went to my bedroom door. I hear who I think is Jimmy
walking around downstairs. Then, all at once, I hear them.
Come up the. Stairs at a full run, violently
stomping on every stair as they go.
It was very fast, like sprintingup the stairs while trying to
make as much noise as possible. I thought Jimmy was trying to be

(01:01:03):
funny and scare me. So to be funny back, I took my
weapon, a pump action, and was going to jump into the hall and
rack it really loud while I did.I didn't have anything in it.
It was empty, totally safe. Well, imagine my surprise when I
flung the door open and nobody was there.

(01:01:24):
No lights on, nobody home. I went room by room and
carefully checked the entire house.
All the doors were locked, no cars outside.
I was totally alone with no explanation for what I had
heard. Fast forward a month or so, Brad

(01:01:45):
and Jimmy are at home with me. We are talking about the house
and how it looked like the bank was finally going to take
possession and we would all haveto move.
I mentioned that I wasn't terribly disappointed by this
because the house kind of gave me the creeps.
Brad and Jimmy exchange a look at that comment.
Brad then asks why I say that. I tell them the story about the

(01:02:07):
stair stomping. Again, they exchanged a look
without saying anything. When I asked what was going on,
Brad said that he had a similar experience just a week or so
before. Brad's room was the master
bedroom. His floor had a spot that we
called the Squeak. You can probably guess that we
called it this because if you stepped there, the floor would

(01:02:30):
squeak loudly. Not uncommon for A2 story home.
We all just avoided that spot when walking around.
Anyway, Brad went on to say thathe was at home alone, drifting
off to sleep when he had heard someone walk up the stairs to
the second floor. He assumed it was me getting
home. Then his door slowly swung open

(01:02:54):
and then back shut. Brad said that he sat there in
the dark thinking I was sneakingin his room to scare him or
something. Then he hears the squeak make
its usual noise and finally he feels his bed do that lean that
beds do when someone sits on it.Thinking that he would get me

(01:03:14):
first, he reached out to slap what he thought was me sitting
on the side of his bed. Only when he slapped, there was
nothing there. Brad got up, turned the light
on, searched his room and eventually the entire house.
Nobody was there. In fact, I was 40 minutes away
at the time, staying with a friend.

(01:03:36):
At hearing each other's stories,we all didn't really know what
to make of it. In fact, we didn't really
discuss it much further because I didn't want to acknowledge
what we could not explain. Finally, the time came for us to
move out. The power had been turned off,
there was no water, and we had all found new places to live.

(01:03:57):
I had been staying at my new apartment for over a month when
Brad calls me to tell me that ifI had anything left at the house
that I needed to get it within the next couple of days.
So I asked a friend, we'll call her Mary, to ride over there
with me to grab a couple things.We get there and I tell Mary
that I'll be right back and to just wait in the car.

(01:04:19):
I go in, go right up the stairs,go to my room, grab my things,
and then leave. I didn't want to be there more
than I had to. When I get in the car, Mary asks
me. I thought you only had stuff in
your room. I did, I told her.
Then why were you in that room? She asks, pointing to the office

(01:04:41):
on the opposite end of the house.
I wasn't. I said.
I went straight to my room and then right back out.
Mary has this really confused look on her face now.
I never told her about the stories about what we had
experienced there, so I know shewouldn't try to tease me.
Well, right after you went in, those curtains moved to the

(01:05:04):
side, stayed, pulled back a minute and then went back to
normal just before you came out.Must have been from the AC or
something, or maybe a ceiling fan.
All I told her was yeah, must have been the wind.
But inside, I knew there was no power to the house.
No AC, no ceiling fans, and no person at the end of that house.

(01:05:29):
No logical reason for those curtains to move.
I quickly put the car in drive and left.
My roommates and I had great times in that house.
We played a lot of pranks. We had some great laughs and
made some lifelong memories together.
However, I'm glad I didn't live there longer than I did because

(01:05:50):
obviously we had a roommate of some kind that we were
completely unaware of. It was nearing the end of the

(01:06:21):
summer of senior year and my best friend, who I'll call Will,
was leaving to go to college about an hour away so we
wouldn't be able to hang out with our friend group for the
rest of the summer. He wanted to have one last
hurrah, so we decided we would go walking along the train
tracks behind our school, our favorite hangout spot.
Only one friend, who I'll call Miles, was able to join us from

(01:06:44):
the get go, but a friend named Chris texted us saying that he
would be able to meet up with usin just a little bit.
The train tracks were separated from the school parking lot with
stretches of woods with it probably being an 8 minute walk
to actually reach the train tracks.
The woods to get to the tracks were a cross country track
route, so there was usually a path carved out for us.

(01:07:06):
However, since it was this summer and there was no
practice, a lot of the surrounding bushes and plant
leaves had grown over the pads, obscuring a lot of what we had
to walk through. It wasn't that bad though, just
a noticeable difference and we were able to get to the tracks
fine. We walked a bit further along
the tracks before we decided to go off across another trodden

(01:07:28):
path that led to a clearing justto explore a bit more.
Along the way we passed a completely pristine bike, which
we were surprised by, wondering why someone would just leave it
out there. They probably just assumed no
one was going to be there so that it was a safe place for it.
We got to the clearing and Will and Miles wanted to climb some

(01:07:50):
trees. I stayed down because I'm quite
vertically challenged and a lot of the climbing required holding
on the branches that I could notquite reach.
Only one tree around was suitable for climbing though, so
Miles climbed it first, keeping his phone down near me with Will
going up. Afterwards he stayed hanging on

(01:08:13):
the tree for a little bit with me and Miles talking up to him,
when I noticed a person come into my peripheral.
It was a middle-aged white man in a windbreaker.
I couldn't tell much else, though I was a bit uneasy as it
was an overcast, even drizzly day, and I didn't expect anyone
else to be out, let alone a grown man.

(01:08:36):
I kept my peripheral on him and expected him to just keep going
along the path, but he stopped walking about 20 feet away from
us. Miles noticed him too.
He greeted us saying hey or how are you doing or something, and
I instinctively kind of mutteredsomething back with a wave of

(01:08:57):
the hand. But then he just continued
standing there, not even keepingup conversation or anything,
just looking. I could tell Miles was kind of
freaked out too, but Will wasn'texactly getting the memo.
I went to pick up Will's phone that was now on the ground and
said we should go back to meet with Chris and Miles agreed with

(01:09:20):
me, saying that he should be there soon.
Will began to climb down and we left the clearing from the path
we came on, pretending to not acknowledge the man who was
still just standing there and making different uneasy small
talk. We didn't turn back to look
though, and once we were far enough away, assumedly me and

(01:09:41):
Miles commented on how we thought that guy was going to do
something and Will jokingly saidthat we were too paranoid.
We ended up meeting up with Chris and the rest of the day
was fine. But still.
I wonder what the man wanted. Was he just mentally ill or
something? Or just awkward?
Maybe he was homeless, as tents in that area of the forest were

(01:10:04):
kind of common. Was he maybe the owner of the
bike that we saw and wanted to make sure we weren't trying to
steal it? Of course, there's no way to be
sure, but both me and Miles had a gut feeling that we definitely
should not have stuck around there to find out.

(01:12:33):
None. None.

(01:18:27):
The. The.

(01:23:47):
Yeah. Yeah.

(01:27:48):
Yeah. Yeah.

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Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 182 - Deadleaf Clover

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 182 - Deadleaf Clover