October 5, 2025 • 70 mins
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Hey, this is Dane and this is Scary Stories and Rain.
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(00:22):
And starting now, today, every Sunday, I'm going to release the
ultimate episode 6 to 12 hours long Ultimate Scary Stories for
a rainy night. Subscriber exclusive.
And as a reminder, we are now four months away from my first
movie release in theaters, Gale Yellow Brick Road, a dark and
terrifying reimagining of The Wizard of Oz.
(00:45):
If you want to check out the first trailer, click the link in
the description to this episode.And if you're not following my
other two podcasts, please go check them out, Scary Stories
and Fire and Scary Stories AfterDark.
The links are in the description.
Thank you so much for being hereand I really hope you enjoy this
episode. When I was in middle school, my
(01:11):
family moved into my mom's childhood home in order to take
care of my grandpa. This property is located in the
woods near Lake MI and everyone refers to it as the Valley.
I grew up hearing all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins scary
stories about growing up in the valley.
Once my family moved in, we quickly learned why the valley
(01:32):
truly is the most evil place we have ever been.
At the time, my mom was working third shift while my dad ran his
own business out of our garage. One night I really needed to
talk to my dad, but he wasn't inthe house.
Knowing he was probably working in the garage, I popped my head
outside to check across the yard.
(01:54):
I saw all of the lights were on in the garage as well as what
sounded like the radio blaring. Totally convinced my dad was in
the garage, I decided to leave the safety of the house.
I focused on the welcoming lightof the garage and began
sprinting across the 100 or so feet of pitch darkness.
As I entered the light of the garage, a sense of relief washed
(02:17):
over me as I called out to my dad.
This relief proved to be short lived as I instantly realized
something was very wrong. Now standing in a deafening
silence, I didn't see my dad anywhere.
I know I heard something that sounded like the radio just
moments ago, but now all I couldhear was my panicked breathing.
(02:43):
I would not have made the terrifying trip over if I had
not heard that convincing sound.Before my heart had the chance
to start beating again, I took off back towards the house.
What previously took me maybe 30seconds, I'm now covered in 10.
I was so terrified I decided it was best to solely focus on the
door and getting my butt back inside.
(03:06):
As I burst through the door, I found my dad in the living room
looking as if he had been there for hours.
Like so many horrifying experiences at that house, I
just tried to not think too muchabout it and moved on.
It wasn't until we moved out a few years later that I would be
reminded of this experience. Like I have previously
(03:29):
mentioned, my family often tellstheir scary stories of the
valley and this is what we foundourselves doing one night as it
became my brother's turn to tella story.
It didn't take long for it to sound very familiar.
My brother described the same instance of needing to talk to
our dad. He saw the lights on and heard
(03:50):
the radio blaring in the garage and was convinced he would find
our dad working out there. He ran through the darkness only
to discover exactly what I did. Nothing.
No sounds of the radio and no dad.
It was the next bit that had my blood turning to ice.
(04:12):
While I tried not to scare myself any further and focused
solely on the door, my brother did not.
As he turned back towards the house, he made the mistake of
scanning his surroundings. To his absolute terror, he saw a
very distinct form on the roof. What appeared to be the
(04:33):
silhouette of a man stood stock still right above the door he
needed to use to get back inside.
This outline was so dark it was contrasted against the
surrounding woods. I have no idea how he summoned
the courage, but my brother ran like a creature back to the
house and through the door. Once hearing his version of
(04:55):
events, I couldn't help but wonder if I had just looked up
when approaching the door, wouldI have discovered that I was not
alone either? So I've been having these sleep
(05:17):
paralysis episodes way more often than usual.
Last week I went to my parents house and fell asleep on the
couch after getting off work. So I'm laying on the couch and I
start to hear footsteps but I know it's the middle of the
night and no one should be up. Besides, it's pitch black, no
(05:38):
one has turned on a light, whichis necessary as my mother is
remodeling and there is stuff everywhere you need to turn a
light on. Also, I know what the footsteps
of everyone in the house sound like, but these are none that
I've ever heard. They are heavy, like
intentionally heavy, almost as if someone is wearing boots and
(06:01):
very deliberately walking heel to toe.
I call out hoping it's my motherand maybe she can't sleep so
she's heading to the basement todo some laundry.
Maybe she's carrying a basket and couldn't balance it and turn
the light on so that's why her steps sounded strange when I
call out to her but there's no response but the footsteps pause
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and then continue from the hall towards the kitchen.
I call out to her once more, andin response, there is the
creepiest voice I've ever heard.Hello.
Just as casually and creepy as he wanted to be.
Also, aside from the fact that whoever it was, he isn't
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supposed to be here, His voice is almost in my ear even though
his footsteps are on the other side of the wall in the hall.
Obviously, I instantly freak outand scream out to my mother who
is upstairs to let her know thatthere is someone in the house.
And then I hear him moving faster throughout the
downstairs, his steps coming closer to me the more I yell
(07:09):
out. As I'm screaming, I try to get
up, but I can't move. Usually it takes me about a
minute or two to realize that I'm having an episode and I can
bring myself out of it, but thisone was too real.
All the signs of an episode werethere.
But this was. Way too real.
He made his way around the corner to where I was on the
(07:30):
couch coming close to me and reached out to touch me in the
center of my chest with his pointer finger and I finally
awoke. I sat there heaving like I just
climbed 10 flights of stairs with chronic bronchitis as my
body and brain attempted to catch up with reality, but I
just couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't a dream and I
(07:51):
felt like I was being watched. After a minute or two of trying
to catch my breath, my phone rings and it's my mother seeing
if I'm OK because she heard me screaming.
This isn't unusual as we both suffer from the same sleep
disorders and talking and makingnoise in our sleep throughout
the night. We are also too lazy to get up
(08:13):
or yell so we usually FaceTime each other even though we're in
the house together. She tells me she heard me scream
her name, but she couldn't tell if it was real or if she had
dreamt it. I was always a very naive,
(08:35):
innocent kind of person. I was the type of optimist who
believed there was a touch of goodness in every heart, a
dangerous mindset to be in. I realize now that seeing the
world through my rose colored glasses put a big flashing red
target on my back. Often when you think of scary
stories involving creepy behavior and psychological
(08:58):
abuse, you think of an occurrence from a stranger.
In my case, it came from my mother-in-law.
My husband's mother initially adored me, not for any reason
other than thinking I could easily be controlled.
I was meek with a passive personality, so it made sense
that I would come across like someone who could be easily
(09:19):
influenced. Looking back on it, I cringe at
how creepy the situation really was.
For the sake of this story, I'llcall my mother-in-law by the
name of Missus Psycho. At the beginning of my
relationship with my husband, Missus Psycho and I were getting
along great, or so I thought. She would take me shopping, give
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compliments about my hair and girly stuff like that.
As the relationship with my partner grew more serious, she
would rant and rave to everyone in our neighborhood about how
much she adored me and how I waslike the daughter she never had.
So naturally I thought things were progressing positively, but
certain things were just really off about Misses Psycho.
(10:07):
I noticed little tidbits of her behavior at parties and
neighborhood social gatherings. She would sulk in a corner and I
would chalk it up to her being socially awkward or anxious.
But looking back at it now, I noticed that she was always
whimpering about something negative going on in her life.
How she fell off her bike and hurt her elbow while riding
(10:28):
through a construction zone. How one neighbor complained
about her parking in front of his house.
Losing her job because she couldn't get along with a Co
worker. The list went on and on.
In every story, she portrayed herself as the victim of some
unusual circumstances. One huge red flag that my simple
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mind didn't understand at the time was the story she was
always telling about her other son, my partner's brother.
She'd say some really disturbingthings about he had held her, my
partner and his dad hostage in their own home and how he had
physically punched their father in the face.
The way she described the story made it sound like my partner's
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brother was a bully to the wholefamily.
In all her wild stories and accusations about him, she
always scolded her son in ways that I just can't imagine ever
scolding my own child. What my husband and I didn't
fully interpret at the time was the underlying problem, which
wasn't necessarily his brother, but the woman who had been a
(11:32):
driving force for the insanity behind the behavior.
Psychological abuse can trigger emotional responses in very
unpredictable and disturbing ways.
Misses Psycho's behavior became evidently creepy after our
engagement. She showed signs of unhealthy
enmichment. First, she was angry that we
(11:53):
didn't tell her immediately whenwe had gotten engaged.
Then she was angry when we changed the wedding date without
first asking for her permission.She expressed the desire for my
future husband and I to live in the upstairs of her house and
pay her rent. We told her that we can afford
our own home and we want to start a family, so that wouldn't
work out. The infuriation in her eyes was
(12:17):
frightening. She would look normal 1 moment,
then if you told her something she didn't want to hear, her
eyes would turn black. The memory of her eyes still
sends me with a frightening chill down my spine.
From there, she became increasingly controlling.
Missus Psycho and her husband, Mr. Psycho would start showing
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up to our house every other day or so.
I started counting how long theycould go without having to see
us, and that number came to three days.
There was no privacy and I felt that I had to close the curtains
over our windows every night. I locked the bedroom door a few
times before bed just to be on the safe side.
(13:00):
Despite our relationship being pleasant in the beginning, I
noticed that I was now feeling like I was treading on egg
shells around missus psycho or rather land mines.
I realized I couldn't talk to her like I used to be able to
when me and her son were just dating.
I remembered when we would be able to have nice in depth
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conversations and I had allowed myself to be vulnerable with
her. I confided in her about how I
had a lot of social anxiety and that her son came into my life
during a time that I was suffering from crippling
depression. I talked about how he had
brought a ray of sunshine into my life, thinking that speaking
kindly about her son would please her, but she just had
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this unfeeling glazed look across her face.
Hoping to mend my relationship with her, I decided to help her
out one day with organizing her antiques.
She had this hobby of going to auctions and buying and selling
Knick knacks, buttons and stuff like that.
She would get very proud of her collections of things that I
sort of thought were junk, but to be polite I told her I saw
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beauty in these things hoping toget back on her good side.
There were some creepy dolls in the mix, including this
horrifying looking vampire doll with piercing red eyes.
She said she had had that doll for years and used to scare my
husband with it when he was a kid.
She laughed at this and the sound had an eerie satanical
(14:30):
vibe to it. As if this wasn't enough to
freak me out, she then told me this story about how a female Co
worker complained about her to the HR department at her
company. Missus Psycho wrote a letter
that was meant for the Co worker's husband, telling him
that she was cheating on him to remain as anonymous as possible.
(14:51):
She told me how she slipped on apair of black gloves and drove
the letter to a faraway locationso that her address couldn't be
traced. I remember feeling very uneasy
about her story, wondering how she could get angry enough to
drive hours away just to cause emotional harm to another human
being. There came a point after hearing
(15:11):
this story when I didn't want tobe left alone with my partner's
mom anymore. He tried to talk to his parents
about how I was feeling like I was on egg shells around them,
but they flipped the narrative to say that they were the ones
feeling like they were on egg shells around me.
During this time, I painstakingly realized that
(15:32):
psychological torture exists in the form of extreme
invalidation. Not having your feelings
acknowledged can really drive a person crazy.
It was then when I felt a littlemore clued into what may have
happened to Missus Psycho's other son.
I can't be sure because I never met the guy, but I think he was
driven mad by his mother's severe emotional neglect.
(15:55):
Now she was pulling the same tricks on me and my partner,
gaslighting us into believing that we were just too sensitive.
When my husband and I started figuring out that something was
off, things got even creepier. His parents started showing up
to our house to corner us into submission.
What I mean is they would tell us stories to make them seem
(16:18):
like victims so that we would give into demands of what they
wanted at the time. If we denied their requests,
they would use psychological manipulation by telling us that
we were uncaring or ungrateful. One example of this manipulation
was when I became pregnant. I explained that the smell of
(16:38):
pizza made me extremely sick, but this was ignored.
When Misses Psycho insisted thatwe go to a pizza restaurant for
her birthday. I was confused with why I felt
like I couldn't say no. My husband was in the same
predicament. Somehow, I think we sensed that
something bad would happen to usif we declined.
(17:00):
This is also because Missus Psycho's husband and her sister
had contacted us, telling us explicitly that they weren't
allowed to say no to her dinner invitations anymore.
They explained it like saying nohurts her feelings, but there
was something else there that I can't quite explain, something
hidden beneath the surface that sounded really threatening.
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I had no idea why, but I just did not feel safe.
Then, only two weeks after giving birth to our daughter, I
had the creepiest interaction ofmy life.
Misses Psycho caught me alone while I was on my front porch.
The weather was really nice, so I was rocking with my baby in
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one of our outdoor chairs. She came up to the doorstep and
assumed a seat in the chair nextto me.
Then, in a quiet, ominous voice,she said to me.
You have to share her, you know.Her black eyes flicked to the
infant in my arms. I know what you might be
(18:02):
thinking, but this wasn't said in a cute, excited new grandma
kind of way. Her voice sounded cold and
possessive, with certain passiveaggressive intent behind the
statement. I naturally clutched my arms
around my daughter tighter, feeling a protective instinct
take over me. Missus Psycho had expressed to
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me before that she had always wanted to have a daughter, but
was only ever able to have sons.Maybe I was being influenced by
the postpartum hormones or just overall feeling paranoid, but a
disturbing thought occurred to me that she might want to get
rid of me somehow to have my daughter to herself.
I later told my husband about the bizarre interaction with his
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mom and how I couldn't keep up with the heavy psychological
demands of his parents anymore. It was all taking a strange
emotional toll on me as well as a strain on our marriage, and I
still couldn't pinpoint exactly why.
Nevertheless, they were causing us a lot of stress, which was
impacted on me all the more. While I was trying to adapt to
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my role as a new mother, I felt like I was going crazy.
They even restricted me in bizarre ways, telling me that I
was not allowed to refer to our daughter as my baby.
The stress was enough to make mephysically sick.
At first, my husband hesitated when I told him about my
concerns, stating the usual spiel.
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That was natural for him to say that they were his parents and
he couldn't just drop contact with them, but something in his
voice contained fear and it wouldn't take long before he
would realize how screwed up thesituation actually was.
The incidents that drove him to the point of cutting off his
parents happened when they cornered us in our living room,
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demanding that we watch their aggressive dog while they went
on vacation for five days. My husband almost caved but
stayed firm when he told them nowe can't we have a 2 month old
baby to look after. The murderous glare his mom then
flashed at me was intense and enough to make me crawl out of
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my skin. I thought for sure she was about
to lunge at me and wring her icycold hands around my neck,
causing me death by strangulation.
I was terrified. Mr. and Missus Psycho eventually
left our house, but they were clearly angry that they weren't
able to convince us to conform to their will.
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My husband and I had a dark, suspicious feeling that
something bad was about to happen.
First we received a lengthy emails from Misses Psycho,
mostly insulting me. She said she thought I was
brainwashing her son and she went on to portray herself as a
victim. She used the knowledge of my
anxiety disorder to make an argument that I was mentally
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unstable and dangerous. She threatened to post about me
on Facebook and mess up our lives if we didn't apologize for
deviating from what she wanted. At the same time, she told me
that I was dead to her and listed all the mistakes I had
made in the past, as well as my faults.
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We remained silent, not wanting to engage with her any further.
My husband and I were scared, spending most of our days cooped
up in our bedroom not knowing what to expect, but we stayed
strong through the process of separating from the toxic
relationship. Misses Psycho proceeded to make
good on her threat, posting about me publicly on Facebook.
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She said that I was crazy. She even went a step further,
saying that I had borderline personality disorder, which was
entirely fabricated. It didn't end there, though.
An active smear campaign againstme ensued as Mr. and Missus
Psycho actually went door to door to everyone's house in the
community, posing as good citizens to warn everyone about
(22:03):
their extremely dangerous, manipulative 5 foot tall
daughter-in-law. My neighbors didn't react the
way that was expected, though they were more weary of her than
of me. Instead of ruining my
reputation, which was the desired effect, most people in
my neighborhood were majorly creeped out by Missus Psycho's
(22:24):
efforts. They were equally creeped out by
Mr. Psycho's willingness to go along with the whole thing.
I guess after years of being beaten down with his wife's
abuse, he was just an empty shell of a man, a flying monkey
to his wife. There are a few doctors and
therapists in my neighborhood who believed that Missus Psycho
may have been projecting, meaning that she is confessing
(22:47):
that she is potentially dangerous and volatile while
pinning it on me. This, along with some stories of
Missus Psycho's interactions with other people in our
neighborhood, confirmed that something was disturbingly off
with this lady. This information made the
situation all the more unsettling when Mr. and Missus
Psycho showed up to our house for what we suspected would be a
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confrontation. My husband and I were watching
Survivor in the living room withour baby when the doorbell rang.
He crept to the front window to peer behind the curtain to see
who it was. I could see the fear on his
face. It's my parents, he said, and my
blood ran cold. I immediately ran with the baby
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upstairs, pausing only to tell him that it was his choice
whether to answer the door or not, since they are his parents,
but that me and the baby would be hidden away.
As I made my way up the stairs, my husband hovered by the front
door, conflicted. He didn't know what to do.
Meanwhile I could hear jostling at the front door, like his
(23:56):
parents were trying to force their way inside our house with
a spare key. I am thankful to this day that
we had just changed the locks a few days before so they couldn't
get in. I proceeded to run upstairs and
closed the bedroom door behind me, locking me and the baby
inside. I held my daughter close, my
(24:16):
heart thudding wildly against mychest.
When there was a knock on the bedroom door.
I reacted with a jolt. My husband's voice on the other
side calmed me down. He told me he didn't answer the
door. He was trembling when I unlocked
the door to let him in. His face was pale.
(24:36):
He showed me a text message thatsaid anyone home, followed by
another text that said you're a coward hiding behind your
keyboard. I don't know what would have
happened if my husband had chosen to answer the door, but I
shudder to think about it. My husband and I both blocked
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them after that. Phone numbers, social media
accounts, everything. Thankfully they moved away to
another state. We have since had no contact
with his parents for almost 2 years and our daughter is
growing in a happy, loving environment free of toxicity.
(25:18):
I have since armed myself with knowledge so that I will be less
naive about creepy behavior in the future.
I've studied up on narcissism and the negative psychological
impact that some people can haveon others through gaslighting
and invalidation. I hope everyone listening out
there may be aware that not all abuse is physical.
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My name is Danny and I live herein Liverpool in the Uki am 33
this year so obviously my trick or treating days are well behind
me, but the times I got to throwon a scary costume and head out
into the night with my best mates are some of the fondest
memories I have for my youth. That's even aside from the free
(26:08):
sweets. And we all know how stuff just
tastes better when it's free. But maybe I am looking back
through rose tinted glasses to adegree.
Because I do remember one Halloween that was most
definitely not all fun and games.
In fact, what happened that night was probably one of the
most terrifying things that's ever happened to me, even if it
(26:30):
did take me a little while to realize the significance of it.
So me and my childhood friends are all either 15 or 16 during
the Halloween of 2003, right on the verge of being too old to
trick or treat anymore. Saying that considering most of
our voices had broken at the time, US turning up at people's
houses was less cute kids begging for sweets and more like
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Moody teenagers exporting peopleout of their Haribo minis under
the threat of egging. People were generally pretty
sound about it and only once didwe have to actually throw an egg
in anger, but there were many, many occasions where a homeowner
would take a peek through the living room curtains before just
refusing to answer the door. And it's not like we could egg
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everyone, we only had a pack of 6 and had to use them sparingly.
Fun fact, a lot of places aroundours just refused to sell
teenage boys eggs during the Halloween season.
As one bloke said to me, you don't look like the type to take
these home to make a Spanish omelet, do you lad?
Point being, there came a point during the evening when we were
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pretty dismayed at the pathetically low amount of
chocolate we had managed to get our hands on, which is what
directly led two of us to make ahuge error in judgement.
So later on in the evening, maybe about 9:00-ish, we're in
this fancier neighborhood near the river, knocking on house
after house and generally getting the knock back from the
owners, until we come to this one house where an older guy
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actually answers the door with asmile.
We give it the old trick or treat greeting, to which he
responds by laughing warmly and giving us a little clap, which
was unusual but not entirely unwelcome.
He starts telling us how not a single set of trick or treaters
has knocked at his house all evening, and since he finds
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Halloween a great deal of fun, it had left him pretty dismayed.
We get into a casual conversation with him about our
costumes, who we were supposed to be and all that, and although
I don't think he managed to pickup on a single reference, he was
very complimentary. He then goes on to tell us that
since it's getting late in the evening and he was unlikely to
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get anyone else calling at his house, that we were welcome to
as much chocolate and sweets as we wanted.
He told us that he had stocked up on like a shed load of stuff
thinking that he was going to get many more visitors than he
ended up getting and since he was off to bed soon we could
just help ourselves. Otherwise all the chocolate
would just end up sitting in hiscupboards for a year and he
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wasn't about to give kids year old sweets come next Halloween.
We had basically hit the jackpotthinking that we could just
rinse the old fella of his sweets and make up for the
paltry amount that we had collected over what had been an
unusually fruitless trick or treating session.
Only he said there was one smallproblem.
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Since he was getting on in his years and didn't get out much,
his oldest grown up son had comeby to drop off all the sweets
along with his usual weekly shopping.
Then, without having thought it through, his son had put all the
sweets in the top cupboard in his back pantry, one that was
way too high up for him to reachwithout doing his back end.
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If a couple of us were willing to help him reach the cupboards
and take out a few tins of soup for him in the process, the
sweets were ours. All of them.
Now I know what you're thinking.Who is daft enough to just
wander into a complete stranger's house in the middle
of the night? Apparently we.
Were. And I'll explain why.
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Firstly, we were in the middle of our teens and most of us were
big lads, hardly in a position not to be able to defend
ourselves. Secondly, this fella seemed
pretty old and infirm, hardly a big threat to us, especially
since the two lads who volunteered to go inside to help
him outnumbered him 2 to 1. And thirdly, the fact that one
(30:35):
of us had managed to pilfer a bit of Peach schnapps out of his
parents Boostash, which was promptly shared as soon as we
were able, had seriously impaired our judgement.
So pretty much as soon as the old bloke laid out the terms,
two of us, Sam and Corky, volunteered to go inside and
help the fella get his soup so we could get our sweets.
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They went inside, the old fella shuts the door behind him after
saying something about keeping the cold out, and we wait
outside in the street, buzzing about having hit the chocolate
jackpot. Like I mentioned, we were all
pretty tipsy from having shared that bottle of booze, so we're
just sitting on the Stonewall outside the bloke's house,
chatting and waving. A few minutes goes by, Sam and
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Corky haven't reappeared yet, but I think we were just in two
high spirits to really notice. A few more minutes go by and we
start getting a little bit impatient, wondering what is
taking so long. It had gotten colder and colder
as the night went on, and by that point it was actually
starting to drizzle and none of us fancied getting soaked on the
(31:43):
walk back home. So one of us gets their phone
out and starts trying to ring Sam and Corky on their mobiles,
to which there was no response. We actually start cursing them
out now, speculating that they're stashing some of the
sweets away in their costumes orsomething so they don't have to
share with the rest of us. The lad who had tried to ring
them does so again, shaking his head and getting annoyed as the
(32:07):
rain started to get a bit heavier.
Then right at that moment, we hear a bang of something
smashing against the wooden gateat the side of the old Fella's
house. It was loud enough to make us
all jump, so we stand and turn around to see what could have
made the noise. That's when I see Sam climbing
over the wooden gate at the sideof the house, like scrambling
(32:28):
over it as fast as he could likehe had seen a ghost or
something. We are all like what is going on
mate? Watch her in clambering over the
wooden fence near the back gate before basically throwing
himself over the other side and hitting the concrete driveway
with a thud. The pure fear in his eyes when
he started running down the driveway at us shouting for us
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to run. We all started backing off like
getting ready to lick it when Sam stops turning back towards
the house and saying something like Corky still in there.
Crap crap crap, he's still in there.
Everyone starts asking him what just went on for him to come
running out like that, but he doesn't respond.
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He just looks up towards the second floor of the house with a
gasp. I turned to try to see what he's
looking at and watch as one of the top windows of the house
opens up. It was one of those kinds that
opens up by the rotating from the bottom.
Like it doesn't open like a doorbut like a hatch, if that makes
any sense. We can't really see what's
(33:31):
behind it thanks to the darknessinside the room, but out of
nowhere we just see Corky emerging from the window,
climbing out backwards while gripping onto the ledge.
He's trying to edge out Tomb Raider style so we can drop feet
first into a section of flower beds that were very fortunately
placed underneath the window. I say very fortunately because I
(33:53):
am not messing around. It must have been a 15 foot drop
at least from the 2nd floor window.
At least 15 feet. Then as we're watching him do
this, there's like a flash of movement in the room above
Corky, who then screams this proper horrible blood curdling
scream before crashing into the flower beds beneath him.
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He fell so awkwardly too, like my first thought was that he had
to have broken something having fallen that distance in such a
way. So I start rushing towards him
to help him up and get him moving, but to my surprise he
just bounces back up out of the flower bed and starts legging it
down the driveway towards us. That same horrible look of fear
on his face that Sam had. Then that was that.
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We just bailed, sprinting as fast as we could down this long
dark Rd. that led towards the river, not stopping until we
reached the promenade which was lit up in this ominous pumpkin
orange St. like glow. Pretty opt for Halloween, right?
Not that it occurred to me untilmonths afterward.
(34:59):
Only when we were certain we were a safe distance from the
bloke's house did we stop to catch our breath.
But it didn't take long for those of us that had waited
outside to demand to know what had happened.
Only then did we see the blood pouring out of Corky's hand from
a cut so deep we could actually see this pale bit of tissue in
the orange light, which turned out to be one of his actual
(35:20):
bones. The old fella had stabbed his
hand as he had been hanging fromthe window frame and that's what
caused him to scream and drop. I remember Sam just sitting down
on the concrete near the railings, just with his head in
his hands. Maybe he was trying to fight
back tears, I couldn't quite tell, but it was Corky that
(35:41):
spoke up first. He pulled a knife on us, got us
into the back pantry thing and pulled a knife on us.
He said, hands and his knees still panting.
He had something else too, like his phone, or it was a Taser.
Lad, he had a Taser. My auntie had one that looked
(36:06):
exactly like it. I'd know it anywhere.
Sam interrupted. We were all just in shock and
listened as they went on to describe how the nice old fellow
we thought we were dealing with turned out not to be so nice or
so old at all. Corky told us as soon as he had
gotten them into the back pantryhe had risen up from being all
(36:28):
hunched over and started to movea bit more limberly, which is
right when Corky said he startedto get the creeps.
Realizing that something wasn't right about the guy.
The old bloke pointed at the cupboard where the sweets were,
told Sam and Corky to help themselves, then just sort of
disappeared after telling them he'd be back in a minute.
(36:50):
The cupboard was apparently so high up that Sam had to give
Porky a boost up to actually open it, and when they did
actually open it, there was nothing inside at all.
No soup, no sweets, no nothing. Then the next thing they knew,
the guy was blocking the exit tothe pantry, holding a knife and
(37:11):
what was, according to Sam, definitely a Taser, and was
ordering each of them to go upstairs.
But that's not all. Apparently when the fella turned
up again, he was completely naked with only his shoes and
socks on. We didn't get all the grim
details out of them for a few months, but apparently the guy
(37:31):
wasn't suffering from any dysfunction, if you catch my
drift. They said they had listened to
him at first heading towards thestaircase before they attempted
to escape, with Sam heading out the back doors, into the yard
and over the fence. But Corky was sort of trapped on
the stairs with the guy blockinghis escape.
So as I mentioned, he had to runupstairs, find a front facing
(37:55):
window and just climb out of it.We considered calling the police
right then and there. I mean, he had obviously just
stabbed one of my friends in thehand.
But Corky had other ideas. Even with his adrenaline
pumping, he explained pretty coherently that there was no way
he could complain to the police that he could see the older
(38:15):
fellow putting on that innocent old man act again and just
telling the police that we had forced our way inside and tried
to rob him. Then he'd defend himself.
And that's how Corky ended up with a wound on his hand.
I remember the lad who was aboutto phone the police just
stopping dead thinking about it for a second then putting his
(38:36):
phone away. 5 lads way too old to be trick or treating stinking
of booze versus the word of 1 sweet old man who was apparently
no threats to anyone at all. It'd be an open and shut case
for the police, or at least that's what he got into our
heads. I'm sure there's people who
might hear this and disagree, knowing there was some way of us
(38:59):
having evidence in our favor. Or, I don't know, something to
prove that we weren't lying. But I suppose we'll never really
know since we didn't act on it to find out.
We stayed away from that neighborhood for years.
We eventually managed to get it together to enact some kind of
revenge, but when we went back to the place, we found it was
(39:21):
some young couple living there, the older fella apparently being
long gone. We didn't get any closure at
all. But closure is overrated.
There's a lot to be said for thepower of just forgetting, you
know? But yeah, anyway, this has gone
on long enough I reckon, so I'llwrap it up.
(39:42):
The story of the scariest thing to ever happen to me or anyone I
know during Halloween. And honestly, it's probably the
most disturbing thing to happen to me in my entire life.
I am now 36 years old and I livein the Philippines, in Baguio
(40:05):
City, a city that was built on top of the mountains.
I remembered having a friend when I was around 8:00 or nine
years old. It was summer and all the kids
were on vacation. As the youngest, my brothers and
their friends rarely allowed me to join them whenever they were
playing. I have my own set of friends
around my age, but most of them are girls and I always wanted to
(40:28):
be part of the big boy club. One time my brothers went out
and I was the only one left at home with my parents.
My mom allowed me to go outside and play.
Unfortunately, all my playmates were out at the time with their
parents, so I decided to play onmy own.
Since we live in a city that wasbuilt on the mountains, it is
common to have bushy tall grass and mountains of dirt in the
(40:50):
area. I decided to play with some dirt
and do some digging, but before I do, I have to walk and make my
way to the thick bushes to reachthat small circular patch of
land that is free from any vegetation.
As I was doing some digging, this little girl who was also
around my age approached me and asked if she could join.
(41:12):
I politely accepted as I have noone else to play with.
A few hours passed and she hadn't told me her name even
though I introduced myself more than once.
Whenever I asked her her name, she would always keep quiet and
would change the subject. It was getting pretty late and I
had to say goodbye. She asked me to meet her at the
(41:32):
same spot the next day. The following day, all the kids
in the neighborhood are out to play, including my brothers.
I decided to play with my friends and totally forgot that
I was supposed to meet my new friend.
But as soon as I remembered, I saw her from afar.
Half of her body was hidden inside the bushes and is making
a gesture that I should come with her.
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I waved back and made a hand gesture suggesting she should
come and join us. Weirdly enough, she would not
step out of the bushes and wouldjust stand there waiting for me.
I ignored her for a while, thinking that she was probably
shy and would come and join. Eventually, after playing, I
decided to join her. As I was about to approach her,
(42:16):
she went ahead but nodded at me,acknowledging that I'm coming to
join her. Upon arriving at the same
circular patch of land surrounding by the bushes and
tall grass, she asked me to comewith her to her.
House. I asked.
Where do you live? She responded just behind that
big rock, pointing at the big rock that was covered in bushes
(42:39):
and tall grass. But there's nothing there.
I don't remember seeing any houses beyond that.
I responded and her response wasjust come and I will show you.
As soon as I was about to join her, I heard my brother scream
my name asking me to come up fora snack.
I grabbed my friend's hands and asked her to join us instead for
(43:01):
a snack. And as I was guiding her out of
the bushes, she suddenly stoppedjust a few steps away back to
the pavement and told me I cannot go beyond here, I would
just meet you back at the same spot when you're done.
And she ran back to the bushes until I could no longer see her.
As a kid, it did not occur to methe weirdness and the unusual
(43:23):
behavior that she showed me. The next day I decided that I
would spend more time with my new friend.
I went out and headed straight to the usual spot and there she
was digging as if she was continuing the hole I had dug a
few days ago. I joined her, she held my hands
and she asked me to be closer toher.
(43:43):
Suddenly my brothers and his friends decided to come to the
same spot we were playing, not knowing that it was their
hideout whenever they were trying to sneak for a quick
smoke and drink some liquor. Surprisingly, they allowed me to
be there, so we continued to digas if nothing happened, when
suddenly my brother asked me. Why aren't you playing with your
(44:03):
friends? They came to the house looking
for you. They're in there now waiting for
you. It did not occur to me at the
time that it was weird, they didnot even acknowledge my friend's
presence, but I told my brother that I would be there in a few
minutes. After smoking, my brother and
their friends left the area, so I was left alone with my new
friend again. She held my hand and asked me to
(44:26):
come to her house with her behind the big rock.
This time she was forceful and alittle aggressive, as if she was
desperate for me to go with her,like almost crying.
I remember her hugging me three times while begging for me to
join her. I still remember that moment
when I was very uncomfortable with the situation because I
(44:47):
know that there was nothing behind that rock.
I have been there many times before and it just leads to
another section of thick bushes.I insisted on not going, and I
held her hands and dragged her out of the bushes, but she
shouted stop. I told you I cannot go past this
point, and I replied why? What do you mean?
(45:10):
She forcefully took my hands offhers and ran back to the bushes.
I felt really bad, as if I should have joined her, but at
the same time I was scared for my own safety.
The following day, I decided to spend more time again with her.
I asked her to at least come with me and sit in between the
pavement in the bushes. She agreed.
(45:34):
We sat down. While watching the other kids
play, we were approached by my friends.
Joanna, one of my closest friends, told me hey, let's go
to Yvonne's house and watch TV, there will be snacks, come on.
But when I was about to introduce my new friend, Joanna
and Yvonne grabbed me by the hand in a hurry, dragging me
(45:54):
away from my new friend. I could only look back at her
and could not even say goodbye. A few months had passed, my
family decided that we will be moving out and living in a
different place. During those months, my
friendship remained with that girl.
Same spot, same time. The day we were about to leave,
(46:16):
I saw her just peeking from the bushes from inside the car.
I was told not to go anywhere bymy parents because everything
was ready. I remember not removing my eyes
off her until I could no longer see her.
As the car drove away, she did the same, but she made a weird
gesture. Just when we were about to lose
(46:36):
sight of each other, she pointedto her head and pointed back at
me. And it was the last time that I
ever saw her. As a kid, it did not occur to me
that my situation was scary. I remembered her our unnatural
friendship. The weird part is I cannot
(46:57):
remember her face at all. It is if it was wiped from my
memory. And I am really good with faces.
I can still remember all the kids faces except for hers.
Also I just realized that she always seems to wear the same
clothes. A dirty white dress, almost
(47:17):
yellowish black shoes with whitesocks, hair always tied upwards.
But the face, I cannot remember her face up until now.
I always wondered what if I had joined her to go to her house,
what would have happened. It bothers me still today what
(47:39):
happened to her. Is she still alive or was she
really alive in the 1st place? I know this was not an imaginary
friend because of the emotions, this sensation whenever I was
with her, it was all real. It was not an imaginary friend
because I was never sad when I was a kid.
(48:01):
Whatever or whoever she was, I am just hoping that she is doing
well. Yeah.
(52:16):
Yeah. Yeah.
(01:08:17):
Yeah.
Hey, this is Dane and this is Scary Stories and Rain.
Please join my family and followthis podcast on Spotify or
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single giveaway automatically entered.
(00:22):
And starting now, today, every Sunday, I'm going to release the
ultimate episode 6 to 12 hours long Ultimate Scary Stories for
a rainy night. Subscriber exclusive.
And as a reminder, we are now four months away from my first
movie release in theaters, Gale Yellow Brick Road, a dark and
terrifying reimagining of The Wizard of Oz.
(00:45):
If you want to check out the first trailer, click the link in
the description to this episode.And if you're not following my
other two podcasts, please go check them out, Scary Stories
and Fire and Scary Stories AfterDark.
The links are in the description.
Thank you so much for being hereand I really hope you enjoy this
episode. When I was in middle school, my
(01:11):
family moved into my mom's childhood home in order to take
care of my grandpa. This property is located in the
woods near Lake MI and everyone refers to it as the Valley.
I grew up hearing all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins scary
stories about growing up in the valley.
Once my family moved in, we quickly learned why the valley
(01:32):
truly is the most evil place we have ever been.
At the time, my mom was working third shift while my dad ran his
own business out of our garage. One night I really needed to
talk to my dad, but he wasn't inthe house.
Knowing he was probably working in the garage, I popped my head
outside to check across the yard.
(01:54):
I saw all of the lights were on in the garage as well as what
sounded like the radio blaring. Totally convinced my dad was in
the garage, I decided to leave the safety of the house.
I focused on the welcoming lightof the garage and began
sprinting across the 100 or so feet of pitch darkness.
As I entered the light of the garage, a sense of relief washed
(02:17):
over me as I called out to my dad.
This relief proved to be short lived as I instantly realized
something was very wrong. Now standing in a deafening
silence, I didn't see my dad anywhere.
I know I heard something that sounded like the radio just
moments ago, but now all I couldhear was my panicked breathing.
(02:43):
I would not have made the terrifying trip over if I had
not heard that convincing sound.Before my heart had the chance
to start beating again, I took off back towards the house.
What previously took me maybe 30seconds, I'm now covered in 10.
I was so terrified I decided it was best to solely focus on the
door and getting my butt back inside.
(03:06):
As I burst through the door, I found my dad in the living room
looking as if he had been there for hours.
Like so many horrifying experiences at that house, I
just tried to not think too muchabout it and moved on.
It wasn't until we moved out a few years later that I would be
reminded of this experience. Like I have previously
(03:29):
mentioned, my family often tellstheir scary stories of the
valley and this is what we foundourselves doing one night as it
became my brother's turn to tella story.
It didn't take long for it to sound very familiar.
My brother described the same instance of needing to talk to
our dad. He saw the lights on and heard
(03:50):
the radio blaring in the garage and was convinced he would find
our dad working out there. He ran through the darkness only
to discover exactly what I did. Nothing.
No sounds of the radio and no dad.
It was the next bit that had my blood turning to ice.
(04:12):
While I tried not to scare myself any further and focused
solely on the door, my brother did not.
As he turned back towards the house, he made the mistake of
scanning his surroundings. To his absolute terror, he saw a
very distinct form on the roof. What appeared to be the
(04:33):
silhouette of a man stood stock still right above the door he
needed to use to get back inside.
This outline was so dark it was contrasted against the
surrounding woods. I have no idea how he summoned
the courage, but my brother ran like a creature back to the
house and through the door. Once hearing his version of
(04:55):
events, I couldn't help but wonder if I had just looked up
when approaching the door, wouldI have discovered that I was not
alone either? So I've been having these sleep
(05:17):
paralysis episodes way more often than usual.
Last week I went to my parents house and fell asleep on the
couch after getting off work. So I'm laying on the couch and I
start to hear footsteps but I know it's the middle of the
night and no one should be up. Besides, it's pitch black, no
(05:38):
one has turned on a light, whichis necessary as my mother is
remodeling and there is stuff everywhere you need to turn a
light on. Also, I know what the footsteps
of everyone in the house sound like, but these are none that
I've ever heard. They are heavy, like
intentionally heavy, almost as if someone is wearing boots and
(06:01):
very deliberately walking heel to toe.
I call out hoping it's my motherand maybe she can't sleep so
she's heading to the basement todo some laundry.
Maybe she's carrying a basket and couldn't balance it and turn
the light on so that's why her steps sounded strange when I
call out to her but there's no response but the footsteps pause
(06:25):
and then continue from the hall towards the kitchen.
I call out to her once more, andin response, there is the
creepiest voice I've ever heard.Hello.
Just as casually and creepy as he wanted to be.
Also, aside from the fact that whoever it was, he isn't
(06:48):
supposed to be here, His voice is almost in my ear even though
his footsteps are on the other side of the wall in the hall.
Obviously, I instantly freak outand scream out to my mother who
is upstairs to let her know thatthere is someone in the house.
And then I hear him moving faster throughout the
downstairs, his steps coming closer to me the more I yell
(07:09):
out. As I'm screaming, I try to get
up, but I can't move. Usually it takes me about a
minute or two to realize that I'm having an episode and I can
bring myself out of it, but thisone was too real.
All the signs of an episode werethere.
But this was. Way too real.
He made his way around the corner to where I was on the
(07:30):
couch coming close to me and reached out to touch me in the
center of my chest with his pointer finger and I finally
awoke. I sat there heaving like I just
climbed 10 flights of stairs with chronic bronchitis as my
body and brain attempted to catch up with reality, but I
just couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't a dream and I
(07:51):
felt like I was being watched. After a minute or two of trying
to catch my breath, my phone rings and it's my mother seeing
if I'm OK because she heard me screaming.
This isn't unusual as we both suffer from the same sleep
disorders and talking and makingnoise in our sleep throughout
the night. We are also too lazy to get up
(08:13):
or yell so we usually FaceTime each other even though we're in
the house together. She tells me she heard me scream
her name, but she couldn't tell if it was real or if she had
dreamt it. I was always a very naive,
(08:35):
innocent kind of person. I was the type of optimist who
believed there was a touch of goodness in every heart, a
dangerous mindset to be in. I realize now that seeing the
world through my rose colored glasses put a big flashing red
target on my back. Often when you think of scary
stories involving creepy behavior and psychological
(08:58):
abuse, you think of an occurrence from a stranger.
In my case, it came from my mother-in-law.
My husband's mother initially adored me, not for any reason
other than thinking I could easily be controlled.
I was meek with a passive personality, so it made sense
that I would come across like someone who could be easily
(09:19):
influenced. Looking back on it, I cringe at
how creepy the situation really was.
For the sake of this story, I'llcall my mother-in-law by the
name of Missus Psycho. At the beginning of my
relationship with my husband, Missus Psycho and I were getting
along great, or so I thought. She would take me shopping, give
(09:44):
compliments about my hair and girly stuff like that.
As the relationship with my partner grew more serious, she
would rant and rave to everyone in our neighborhood about how
much she adored me and how I waslike the daughter she never had.
So naturally I thought things were progressing positively, but
certain things were just really off about Misses Psycho.
(10:07):
I noticed little tidbits of her behavior at parties and
neighborhood social gatherings. She would sulk in a corner and I
would chalk it up to her being socially awkward or anxious.
But looking back at it now, I noticed that she was always
whimpering about something negative going on in her life.
How she fell off her bike and hurt her elbow while riding
(10:28):
through a construction zone. How one neighbor complained
about her parking in front of his house.
Losing her job because she couldn't get along with a Co
worker. The list went on and on.
In every story, she portrayed herself as the victim of some
unusual circumstances. One huge red flag that my simple
(10:48):
mind didn't understand at the time was the story she was
always telling about her other son, my partner's brother.
She'd say some really disturbingthings about he had held her, my
partner and his dad hostage in their own home and how he had
physically punched their father in the face.
The way she described the story made it sound like my partner's
(11:10):
brother was a bully to the wholefamily.
In all her wild stories and accusations about him, she
always scolded her son in ways that I just can't imagine ever
scolding my own child. What my husband and I didn't
fully interpret at the time was the underlying problem, which
wasn't necessarily his brother, but the woman who had been a
(11:32):
driving force for the insanity behind the behavior.
Psychological abuse can trigger emotional responses in very
unpredictable and disturbing ways.
Misses Psycho's behavior became evidently creepy after our
engagement. She showed signs of unhealthy
enmichment. First, she was angry that we
(11:53):
didn't tell her immediately whenwe had gotten engaged.
Then she was angry when we changed the wedding date without
first asking for her permission.She expressed the desire for my
future husband and I to live in the upstairs of her house and
pay her rent. We told her that we can afford
our own home and we want to start a family, so that wouldn't
work out. The infuriation in her eyes was
(12:17):
frightening. She would look normal 1 moment,
then if you told her something she didn't want to hear, her
eyes would turn black. The memory of her eyes still
sends me with a frightening chill down my spine.
From there, she became increasingly controlling.
Missus Psycho and her husband, Mr. Psycho would start showing
(12:40):
up to our house every other day or so.
I started counting how long theycould go without having to see
us, and that number came to three days.
There was no privacy and I felt that I had to close the curtains
over our windows every night. I locked the bedroom door a few
times before bed just to be on the safe side.
(13:00):
Despite our relationship being pleasant in the beginning, I
noticed that I was now feeling like I was treading on egg
shells around missus psycho or rather land mines.
I realized I couldn't talk to her like I used to be able to
when me and her son were just dating.
I remembered when we would be able to have nice in depth
(13:21):
conversations and I had allowed myself to be vulnerable with
her. I confided in her about how I
had a lot of social anxiety and that her son came into my life
during a time that I was suffering from crippling
depression. I talked about how he had
brought a ray of sunshine into my life, thinking that speaking
kindly about her son would please her, but she just had
(13:44):
this unfeeling glazed look across her face.
Hoping to mend my relationship with her, I decided to help her
out one day with organizing her antiques.
She had this hobby of going to auctions and buying and selling
Knick knacks, buttons and stuff like that.
She would get very proud of her collections of things that I
sort of thought were junk, but to be polite I told her I saw
(14:08):
beauty in these things hoping toget back on her good side.
There were some creepy dolls in the mix, including this
horrifying looking vampire doll with piercing red eyes.
She said she had had that doll for years and used to scare my
husband with it when he was a kid.
She laughed at this and the sound had an eerie satanical
(14:30):
vibe to it. As if this wasn't enough to
freak me out, she then told me this story about how a female Co
worker complained about her to the HR department at her
company. Missus Psycho wrote a letter
that was meant for the Co worker's husband, telling him
that she was cheating on him to remain as anonymous as possible.
(14:51):
She told me how she slipped on apair of black gloves and drove
the letter to a faraway locationso that her address couldn't be
traced. I remember feeling very uneasy
about her story, wondering how she could get angry enough to
drive hours away just to cause emotional harm to another human
being. There came a point after hearing
(15:11):
this story when I didn't want tobe left alone with my partner's
mom anymore. He tried to talk to his parents
about how I was feeling like I was on egg shells around them,
but they flipped the narrative to say that they were the ones
feeling like they were on egg shells around me.
During this time, I painstakingly realized that
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psychological torture exists in the form of extreme
invalidation. Not having your feelings
acknowledged can really drive a person crazy.
It was then when I felt a littlemore clued into what may have
happened to Missus Psycho's other son.
I can't be sure because I never met the guy, but I think he was
driven mad by his mother's severe emotional neglect.
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Now she was pulling the same tricks on me and my partner,
gaslighting us into believing that we were just too sensitive.
When my husband and I started figuring out that something was
off, things got even creepier. His parents started showing up
to our house to corner us into submission.
What I mean is they would tell us stories to make them seem
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like victims so that we would give into demands of what they
wanted at the time. If we denied their requests,
they would use psychological manipulation by telling us that
we were uncaring or ungrateful. One example of this manipulation
was when I became pregnant. I explained that the smell of
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pizza made me extremely sick, but this was ignored.
When Misses Psycho insisted thatwe go to a pizza restaurant for
her birthday. I was confused with why I felt
like I couldn't say no. My husband was in the same
predicament. Somehow, I think we sensed that
something bad would happen to usif we declined.
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This is also because Missus Psycho's husband and her sister
had contacted us, telling us explicitly that they weren't
allowed to say no to her dinner invitations anymore.
They explained it like saying nohurts her feelings, but there
was something else there that I can't quite explain, something
hidden beneath the surface that sounded really threatening.
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I had no idea why, but I just did not feel safe.
Then, only two weeks after giving birth to our daughter, I
had the creepiest interaction ofmy life.
Misses Psycho caught me alone while I was on my front porch.
The weather was really nice, so I was rocking with my baby in
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one of our outdoor chairs. She came up to the doorstep and
assumed a seat in the chair nextto me.
Then, in a quiet, ominous voice,she said to me.
You have to share her, you know.Her black eyes flicked to the
infant in my arms. I know what you might be
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thinking, but this wasn't said in a cute, excited new grandma
kind of way. Her voice sounded cold and
possessive, with certain passiveaggressive intent behind the
statement. I naturally clutched my arms
around my daughter tighter, feeling a protective instinct
take over me. Missus Psycho had expressed to
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me before that she had always wanted to have a daughter, but
was only ever able to have sons.Maybe I was being influenced by
the postpartum hormones or just overall feeling paranoid, but a
disturbing thought occurred to me that she might want to get
rid of me somehow to have my daughter to herself.
I later told my husband about the bizarre interaction with his
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mom and how I couldn't keep up with the heavy psychological
demands of his parents anymore. It was all taking a strange
emotional toll on me as well as a strain on our marriage, and I
still couldn't pinpoint exactly why.
Nevertheless, they were causing us a lot of stress, which was
impacted on me all the more. While I was trying to adapt to
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my role as a new mother, I felt like I was going crazy.
They even restricted me in bizarre ways, telling me that I
was not allowed to refer to our daughter as my baby.
The stress was enough to make mephysically sick.
At first, my husband hesitated when I told him about my
concerns, stating the usual spiel.
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That was natural for him to say that they were his parents and
he couldn't just drop contact with them, but something in his
voice contained fear and it wouldn't take long before he
would realize how screwed up thesituation actually was.
The incidents that drove him to the point of cutting off his
parents happened when they cornered us in our living room,
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demanding that we watch their aggressive dog while they went
on vacation for five days. My husband almost caved but
stayed firm when he told them nowe can't we have a 2 month old
baby to look after. The murderous glare his mom then
flashed at me was intense and enough to make me crawl out of
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my skin. I thought for sure she was about
to lunge at me and wring her icycold hands around my neck,
causing me death by strangulation.
I was terrified. Mr. and Missus Psycho eventually
left our house, but they were clearly angry that they weren't
able to convince us to conform to their will.
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My husband and I had a dark, suspicious feeling that
something bad was about to happen.
First we received a lengthy emails from Misses Psycho,
mostly insulting me. She said she thought I was
brainwashing her son and she went on to portray herself as a
victim. She used the knowledge of my
anxiety disorder to make an argument that I was mentally
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unstable and dangerous. She threatened to post about me
on Facebook and mess up our lives if we didn't apologize for
deviating from what she wanted. At the same time, she told me
that I was dead to her and listed all the mistakes I had
made in the past, as well as my faults.
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We remained silent, not wanting to engage with her any further.
My husband and I were scared, spending most of our days cooped
up in our bedroom not knowing what to expect, but we stayed
strong through the process of separating from the toxic
relationship. Misses Psycho proceeded to make
good on her threat, posting about me publicly on Facebook.
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She said that I was crazy. She even went a step further,
saying that I had borderline personality disorder, which was
entirely fabricated. It didn't end there, though.
An active smear campaign againstme ensued as Mr. and Missus
Psycho actually went door to door to everyone's house in the
community, posing as good citizens to warn everyone about
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their extremely dangerous, manipulative 5 foot tall
daughter-in-law. My neighbors didn't react the
way that was expected, though they were more weary of her than
of me. Instead of ruining my
reputation, which was the desired effect, most people in
my neighborhood were majorly creeped out by Missus Psycho's
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efforts. They were equally creeped out by
Mr. Psycho's willingness to go along with the whole thing.
I guess after years of being beaten down with his wife's
abuse, he was just an empty shell of a man, a flying monkey
to his wife. There are a few doctors and
therapists in my neighborhood who believed that Missus Psycho
may have been projecting, meaning that she is confessing
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that she is potentially dangerous and volatile while
pinning it on me. This, along with some stories of
Missus Psycho's interactions with other people in our
neighborhood, confirmed that something was disturbingly off
with this lady. This information made the
situation all the more unsettling when Mr. and Missus
Psycho showed up to our house for what we suspected would be a
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confrontation. My husband and I were watching
Survivor in the living room withour baby when the doorbell rang.
He crept to the front window to peer behind the curtain to see
who it was. I could see the fear on his
face. It's my parents, he said, and my
blood ran cold. I immediately ran with the baby
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upstairs, pausing only to tell him that it was his choice
whether to answer the door or not, since they are his parents,
but that me and the baby would be hidden away.
As I made my way up the stairs, my husband hovered by the front
door, conflicted. He didn't know what to do.
Meanwhile I could hear jostling at the front door, like his
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parents were trying to force their way inside our house with
a spare key. I am thankful to this day that
we had just changed the locks a few days before so they couldn't
get in. I proceeded to run upstairs and
closed the bedroom door behind me, locking me and the baby
inside. I held my daughter close, my
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heart thudding wildly against mychest.
When there was a knock on the bedroom door.
I reacted with a jolt. My husband's voice on the other
side calmed me down. He told me he didn't answer the
door. He was trembling when I unlocked
the door to let him in. His face was pale.
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He showed me a text message thatsaid anyone home, followed by
another text that said you're a coward hiding behind your
keyboard. I don't know what would have
happened if my husband had chosen to answer the door, but I
shudder to think about it. My husband and I both blocked
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them after that. Phone numbers, social media
accounts, everything. Thankfully they moved away to
another state. We have since had no contact
with his parents for almost 2 years and our daughter is
growing in a happy, loving environment free of toxicity.
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I have since armed myself with knowledge so that I will be less
naive about creepy behavior in the future.
I've studied up on narcissism and the negative psychological
impact that some people can haveon others through gaslighting
and invalidation. I hope everyone listening out
there may be aware that not all abuse is physical.
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My name is Danny and I live herein Liverpool in the Uki am 33
this year so obviously my trick or treating days are well behind
me, but the times I got to throwon a scary costume and head out
into the night with my best mates are some of the fondest
memories I have for my youth. That's even aside from the free
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sweets. And we all know how stuff just
tastes better when it's free. But maybe I am looking back
through rose tinted glasses to adegree.
Because I do remember one Halloween that was most
definitely not all fun and games.
In fact, what happened that night was probably one of the
most terrifying things that's ever happened to me, even if it
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did take me a little while to realize the significance of it.
So me and my childhood friends are all either 15 or 16 during
the Halloween of 2003, right on the verge of being too old to
trick or treat anymore. Saying that considering most of
our voices had broken at the time, US turning up at people's
houses was less cute kids begging for sweets and more like
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Moody teenagers exporting peopleout of their Haribo minis under
the threat of egging. People were generally pretty
sound about it and only once didwe have to actually throw an egg
in anger, but there were many, many occasions where a homeowner
would take a peek through the living room curtains before just
refusing to answer the door. And it's not like we could egg
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everyone, we only had a pack of 6 and had to use them sparingly.
Fun fact, a lot of places aroundours just refused to sell
teenage boys eggs during the Halloween season.
As one bloke said to me, you don't look like the type to take
these home to make a Spanish omelet, do you lad?
Point being, there came a point during the evening when we were
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pretty dismayed at the pathetically low amount of
chocolate we had managed to get our hands on, which is what
directly led two of us to make ahuge error in judgement.
So later on in the evening, maybe about 9:00-ish, we're in
this fancier neighborhood near the river, knocking on house
after house and generally getting the knock back from the
owners, until we come to this one house where an older guy
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actually answers the door with asmile.
We give it the old trick or treat greeting, to which he
responds by laughing warmly and giving us a little clap, which
was unusual but not entirely unwelcome.
He starts telling us how not a single set of trick or treaters
has knocked at his house all evening, and since he finds
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Halloween a great deal of fun, it had left him pretty dismayed.
We get into a casual conversation with him about our
costumes, who we were supposed to be and all that, and although
I don't think he managed to pickup on a single reference, he was
very complimentary. He then goes on to tell us that
since it's getting late in the evening and he was unlikely to
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get anyone else calling at his house, that we were welcome to
as much chocolate and sweets as we wanted.
He told us that he had stocked up on like a shed load of stuff
thinking that he was going to get many more visitors than he
ended up getting and since he was off to bed soon we could
just help ourselves. Otherwise all the chocolate
would just end up sitting in hiscupboards for a year and he
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wasn't about to give kids year old sweets come next Halloween.
We had basically hit the jackpotthinking that we could just
rinse the old fella of his sweets and make up for the
paltry amount that we had collected over what had been an
unusually fruitless trick or treating session.
Only he said there was one smallproblem.
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Since he was getting on in his years and didn't get out much,
his oldest grown up son had comeby to drop off all the sweets
along with his usual weekly shopping.
Then, without having thought it through, his son had put all the
sweets in the top cupboard in his back pantry, one that was
way too high up for him to reachwithout doing his back end.
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If a couple of us were willing to help him reach the cupboards
and take out a few tins of soup for him in the process, the
sweets were ours. All of them.
Now I know what you're thinking.Who is daft enough to just
wander into a complete stranger's house in the middle
of the night? Apparently we.
Were. And I'll explain why.
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Firstly, we were in the middle of our teens and most of us were
big lads, hardly in a position not to be able to defend
ourselves. Secondly, this fella seemed
pretty old and infirm, hardly a big threat to us, especially
since the two lads who volunteered to go inside to help
him outnumbered him 2 to 1. And thirdly, the fact that one
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of us had managed to pilfer a bit of Peach schnapps out of his
parents Boostash, which was promptly shared as soon as we
were able, had seriously impaired our judgement.
So pretty much as soon as the old bloke laid out the terms,
two of us, Sam and Corky, volunteered to go inside and
help the fella get his soup so we could get our sweets.
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They went inside, the old fella shuts the door behind him after
saying something about keeping the cold out, and we wait
outside in the street, buzzing about having hit the chocolate
jackpot. Like I mentioned, we were all
pretty tipsy from having shared that bottle of booze, so we're
just sitting on the Stonewall outside the bloke's house,
chatting and waving. A few minutes goes by, Sam and
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Corky haven't reappeared yet, but I think we were just in two
high spirits to really notice. A few more minutes go by and we
start getting a little bit impatient, wondering what is
taking so long. It had gotten colder and colder
as the night went on, and by that point it was actually
starting to drizzle and none of us fancied getting soaked on the
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walk back home. So one of us gets their phone
out and starts trying to ring Sam and Corky on their mobiles,
to which there was no response. We actually start cursing them
out now, speculating that they're stashing some of the
sweets away in their costumes orsomething so they don't have to
share with the rest of us. The lad who had tried to ring
them does so again, shaking his head and getting annoyed as the
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rain started to get a bit heavier.
Then right at that moment, we hear a bang of something
smashing against the wooden gateat the side of the old Fella's
house. It was loud enough to make us
all jump, so we stand and turn around to see what could have
made the noise. That's when I see Sam climbing
over the wooden gate at the sideof the house, like scrambling
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over it as fast as he could likehe had seen a ghost or
something. We are all like what is going on
mate? Watch her in clambering over the
wooden fence near the back gate before basically throwing
himself over the other side and hitting the concrete driveway
with a thud. The pure fear in his eyes when
he started running down the driveway at us shouting for us
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to run. We all started backing off like
getting ready to lick it when Sam stops turning back towards
the house and saying something like Corky still in there.
Crap crap crap, he's still in there.
Everyone starts asking him what just went on for him to come
running out like that, but he doesn't respond.
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He just looks up towards the second floor of the house with a
gasp. I turned to try to see what he's
looking at and watch as one of the top windows of the house
opens up. It was one of those kinds that
opens up by the rotating from the bottom.
Like it doesn't open like a doorbut like a hatch, if that makes
any sense. We can't really see what's
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behind it thanks to the darknessinside the room, but out of
nowhere we just see Corky emerging from the window,
climbing out backwards while gripping onto the ledge.
He's trying to edge out Tomb Raider style so we can drop feet
first into a section of flower beds that were very fortunately
placed underneath the window. I say very fortunately because I
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am not messing around. It must have been a 15 foot drop
at least from the 2nd floor window.
At least 15 feet. Then as we're watching him do
this, there's like a flash of movement in the room above
Corky, who then screams this proper horrible blood curdling
scream before crashing into the flower beds beneath him.
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He fell so awkwardly too, like my first thought was that he had
to have broken something having fallen that distance in such a
way. So I start rushing towards him
to help him up and get him moving, but to my surprise he
just bounces back up out of the flower bed and starts legging it
down the driveway towards us. That same horrible look of fear
on his face that Sam had. Then that was that.
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We just bailed, sprinting as fast as we could down this long
dark Rd. that led towards the river, not stopping until we
reached the promenade which was lit up in this ominous pumpkin
orange St. like glow. Pretty opt for Halloween, right?
Not that it occurred to me untilmonths afterward.
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Only when we were certain we were a safe distance from the
bloke's house did we stop to catch our breath.
But it didn't take long for those of us that had waited
outside to demand to know what had happened.
Only then did we see the blood pouring out of Corky's hand from
a cut so deep we could actually see this pale bit of tissue in
the orange light, which turned out to be one of his actual
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bones. The old fella had stabbed his
hand as he had been hanging fromthe window frame and that's what
caused him to scream and drop. I remember Sam just sitting down
on the concrete near the railings, just with his head in
his hands. Maybe he was trying to fight
back tears, I couldn't quite tell, but it was Corky that
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spoke up first. He pulled a knife on us, got us
into the back pantry thing and pulled a knife on us.
He said, hands and his knees still panting.
He had something else too, like his phone, or it was a Taser.
Lad, he had a Taser. My auntie had one that looked
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exactly like it. I'd know it anywhere.
Sam interrupted. We were all just in shock and
listened as they went on to describe how the nice old fellow
we thought we were dealing with turned out not to be so nice or
so old at all. Corky told us as soon as he had
gotten them into the back pantryhe had risen up from being all
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hunched over and started to movea bit more limberly, which is
right when Corky said he startedto get the creeps.
Realizing that something wasn't right about the guy.
The old bloke pointed at the cupboard where the sweets were,
told Sam and Corky to help themselves, then just sort of
disappeared after telling them he'd be back in a minute.
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The cupboard was apparently so high up that Sam had to give
Porky a boost up to actually open it, and when they did
actually open it, there was nothing inside at all.
No soup, no sweets, no nothing. Then the next thing they knew,
the guy was blocking the exit tothe pantry, holding a knife and
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what was, according to Sam, definitely a Taser, and was
ordering each of them to go upstairs.
But that's not all. Apparently when the fella turned
up again, he was completely naked with only his shoes and
socks on. We didn't get all the grim
details out of them for a few months, but apparently the guy
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wasn't suffering from any dysfunction, if you catch my
drift. They said they had listened to
him at first heading towards thestaircase before they attempted
to escape, with Sam heading out the back doors, into the yard
and over the fence. But Corky was sort of trapped on
the stairs with the guy blockinghis escape.
So as I mentioned, he had to runupstairs, find a front facing
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window and just climb out of it.We considered calling the police
right then and there. I mean, he had obviously just
stabbed one of my friends in thehand.
But Corky had other ideas. Even with his adrenaline
pumping, he explained pretty coherently that there was no way
he could complain to the police that he could see the older
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fellow putting on that innocent old man act again and just
telling the police that we had forced our way inside and tried
to rob him. Then he'd defend himself.
And that's how Corky ended up with a wound on his hand.
I remember the lad who was aboutto phone the police just
stopping dead thinking about it for a second then putting his
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phone away. 5 lads way too old to be trick or treating stinking
of booze versus the word of 1 sweet old man who was apparently
no threats to anyone at all. It'd be an open and shut case
for the police, or at least that's what he got into our
heads. I'm sure there's people who
might hear this and disagree, knowing there was some way of us
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having evidence in our favor. Or, I don't know, something to
prove that we weren't lying. But I suppose we'll never really
know since we didn't act on it to find out.
We stayed away from that neighborhood for years.
We eventually managed to get it together to enact some kind of
revenge, but when we went back to the place, we found it was
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some young couple living there, the older fella apparently being
long gone. We didn't get any closure at
all. But closure is overrated.
There's a lot to be said for thepower of just forgetting, you
know? But yeah, anyway, this has gone
on long enough I reckon, so I'llwrap it up.
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The story of the scariest thing to ever happen to me or anyone I
know during Halloween. And honestly, it's probably the
most disturbing thing to happen to me in my entire life.
I am now 36 years old and I livein the Philippines, in Baguio
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City, a city that was built on top of the mountains.
I remembered having a friend when I was around 8:00 or nine
years old. It was summer and all the kids
were on vacation. As the youngest, my brothers and
their friends rarely allowed me to join them whenever they were
playing. I have my own set of friends
around my age, but most of them are girls and I always wanted to
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be part of the big boy club. One time my brothers went out
and I was the only one left at home with my parents.
My mom allowed me to go outside and play.
Unfortunately, all my playmates were out at the time with their
parents, so I decided to play onmy own.
Since we live in a city that wasbuilt on the mountains, it is
common to have bushy tall grass and mountains of dirt in the
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area. I decided to play with some dirt
and do some digging, but before I do, I have to walk and make my
way to the thick bushes to reachthat small circular patch of
land that is free from any vegetation.
As I was doing some digging, this little girl who was also
around my age approached me and asked if she could join.
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I politely accepted as I have noone else to play with.
A few hours passed and she hadn't told me her name even
though I introduced myself more than once.
Whenever I asked her her name, she would always keep quiet and
would change the subject. It was getting pretty late and I
had to say goodbye. She asked me to meet her at the
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same spot the next day. The following day, all the kids
in the neighborhood are out to play, including my brothers.
I decided to play with my friends and totally forgot that
I was supposed to meet my new friend.
But as soon as I remembered, I saw her from afar.
Half of her body was hidden inside the bushes and is making
a gesture that I should come with her.
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I waved back and made a hand gesture suggesting she should
come and join us. Weirdly enough, she would not
step out of the bushes and wouldjust stand there waiting for me.
I ignored her for a while, thinking that she was probably
shy and would come and join. Eventually, after playing, I
decided to join her. As I was about to approach her,
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she went ahead but nodded at me,acknowledging that I'm coming to
join her. Upon arriving at the same
circular patch of land surrounding by the bushes and
tall grass, she asked me to comewith her to her.
House. I asked.
Where do you live? She responded just behind that
big rock, pointing at the big rock that was covered in bushes
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and tall grass. But there's nothing there.
I don't remember seeing any houses beyond that.
I responded and her response wasjust come and I will show you.
As soon as I was about to join her, I heard my brother scream
my name asking me to come up fora snack.
I grabbed my friend's hands and asked her to join us instead for
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a snack. And as I was guiding her out of
the bushes, she suddenly stoppedjust a few steps away back to
the pavement and told me I cannot go beyond here, I would
just meet you back at the same spot when you're done.
And she ran back to the bushes until I could no longer see her.
As a kid, it did not occur to methe weirdness and the unusual
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behavior that she showed me. The next day I decided that I
would spend more time with my new friend.
I went out and headed straight to the usual spot and there she
was digging as if she was continuing the hole I had dug a
few days ago. I joined her, she held my hands
and she asked me to be closer toher.
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Suddenly my brothers and his friends decided to come to the
same spot we were playing, not knowing that it was their
hideout whenever they were trying to sneak for a quick
smoke and drink some liquor. Surprisingly, they allowed me to
be there, so we continued to digas if nothing happened, when
suddenly my brother asked me. Why aren't you playing with your
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friends? They came to the house looking
for you. They're in there now waiting for
you. It did not occur to me at the
time that it was weird, they didnot even acknowledge my friend's
presence, but I told my brother that I would be there in a few
minutes. After smoking, my brother and
their friends left the area, so I was left alone with my new
friend again. She held my hand and asked me to
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come to her house with her behind the big rock.
This time she was forceful and alittle aggressive, as if she was
desperate for me to go with her,like almost crying.
I remember her hugging me three times while begging for me to
join her. I still remember that moment
when I was very uncomfortable with the situation because I
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know that there was nothing behind that rock.
I have been there many times before and it just leads to
another section of thick bushes.I insisted on not going, and I
held her hands and dragged her out of the bushes, but she
shouted stop. I told you I cannot go past this
point, and I replied why? What do you mean?
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She forcefully took my hands offhers and ran back to the bushes.
I felt really bad, as if I should have joined her, but at
the same time I was scared for my own safety.
The following day, I decided to spend more time again with her.
I asked her to at least come with me and sit in between the
pavement in the bushes. She agreed.
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We sat down. While watching the other kids
play, we were approached by my friends.
Joanna, one of my closest friends, told me hey, let's go
to Yvonne's house and watch TV, there will be snacks, come on.
But when I was about to introduce my new friend, Joanna
and Yvonne grabbed me by the hand in a hurry, dragging me
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away from my new friend. I could only look back at her
and could not even say goodbye. A few months had passed, my
family decided that we will be moving out and living in a
different place. During those months, my
friendship remained with that girl.
Same spot, same time. The day we were about to leave,
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I saw her just peeking from the bushes from inside the car.
I was told not to go anywhere bymy parents because everything
was ready. I remember not removing my eyes
off her until I could no longer see her.
As the car drove away, she did the same, but she made a weird
gesture. Just when we were about to lose
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sight of each other, she pointedto her head and pointed back at
me. And it was the last time that I
ever saw her. As a kid, it did not occur to me
that my situation was scary. I remembered her our unnatural
friendship. The weird part is I cannot
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remember her face at all. It is if it was wiped from my
memory. And I am really good with faces.
I can still remember all the kids faces except for hers.
Also I just realized that she always seems to wear the same
clothes. A dirty white dress, almost
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yellowish black shoes with whitesocks, hair always tied upwards.
But the face, I cannot remember her face up until now.
I always wondered what if I had joined her to go to her house,
what would have happened. It bothers me still today what
(47:39):
happened to her. Is she still alive or was she
really alive in the 1st place? I know this was not an imaginary
friend because of the emotions, this sensation whenever I was
with her, it was all real. It was not an imaginary friend
because I was never sad when I was a kid.
(48:01):
Whatever or whoever she was, I am just hoping that she is doing
well. Yeah.
(52:16):
Yeah. Yeah.
(01:08:17):
Yeah.
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