Best of True Scary Stalker Stories

In this episode, we dive into one of the most unsettling fears of all—being watched. These are true stories of stalkers, both in the flesh and online. From the eerie feeling of someone following you home late at night, to the relentless messages and digital trails left by strangers who refuse to let go, these tales reveal how terrifying it can be when obsession turns dangerous. Whether it’s footsteps echoing just a little too close, or an online presence that seems impossible to block, these stories will make you double-check your locks—and think twice about what you share online.

Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/uncle-joshs-true-scary-stories--1977911/support.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:02):
Hello, kitties, this is the Crip Keeper and you're listening
to Uncle Josh's true scary stories. Be careful what you
ask for, you may get it.

Speaker 2 (00:20):
Hey, campfire crew, let's get it on. She wouldn't go away.
Submitted by Derek. So this started when I was in

(00:44):
high school, but spanned over the following seven years. I
was a band geek in high school. I played football
and baseball too, but I was really into trumpet and jazz.
Still am have my own band too. There was this girl.
I'll Jamie for this so as to not call her out.

Speaker 3 (01:02):
On what happened.

Speaker 2 (01:04):
She was cute, but more of a band geek than me.
I mean, she was really smart, but that's all she
did was player flute and study. Not that there's anything
wrong with that, but I think we all know there's
more to life than just two things. I first noticed
her looking at me during band practice one day. My
second trumpet and I had a duo for one tune

(01:25):
and my band instructor wanted us to stand up during
our performance, so we did that in practice too. Each
time we did the solos, I would look down and
see Jamie staring up at me. Totally normal. I mean,
other people watched us too, but right away this felt weird.
It got to be that she looked at me so

(01:46):
often that I finally mentioned it to my girlfriend at
the time. I'll call her Chrissy. Chrissy also played the
flute but was a few chairs down from Jamie. Chris
laughed at me first, but then one day she gave
me a note between classes and it said she is
looking at you a lot in band. One day, Chris
came to my baseball game, and so did Jamie. No

(02:09):
big deal, right wrong. Jamie sat on the bleachers staring
at me the whole time I was on the field.
I played first base, so she was right there watching me,
and any play I made she would scream and cheer,
And finally my girlfriend went over to her and told
her that I was taken and to ease up a bit.
Jamie sat down and didn't say anything back. And Chris

(02:31):
was a softball player and could be intimidating when she
wanted to be, and Jamie was a year younger, so
there was no outbreak at the game. The staring kept up,
and I started getting notes in my locker on a
regular basis and spent a long time but I remember
a lot of them said all the stuff about how
my girlfriend was cheating on me and that I should

(02:52):
dump her. I showed Chris and she just laughed and
said it was probably Jamie trying to split us up.
Our prom came and this was the night Jamie decided
to tell me that she liked me. I can't remember
who she went with, but during a break in dancing
and stuff, I went to get a soda and when
I turned around and there she was. She asked to

(03:14):
talk to me, and I said go ahead, and she
told me that she really liked me and wanted to
know me better. Before I could say anything back, Chris
came up and took me by the arm and just
gave her a death stare. So time moved on. I
went to college and Chris and I tried to do
the long distance thing, but we ended up breaking up. However,

(03:36):
my sophomore year, I got a little surprise. I wasn't
majoring in music, but I still did play a ton
and stored some of my gear in a friend's space
in the music hall. Jamie apparently was majoring in music,
and that's when I bumped into her. She went to
the same college as me. It was awkward, but I

(03:56):
tried to be nice and chatted with her for a
bit and then went on my way. And here's where
things started to go off the rails. That Friday, I
was at a house party and Jamie showed up. She
was with her friends, but halfway through the night she
came over to me and hung out, which was fine,
but she started trying to get me to leave with her,

(04:17):
and it got annoying. No matter where I went at
that party, Jamie would find me. And finally I told
my friends I was going to head back to our dorm.
I went to the bathroom and then crawled out the
window and practically ran back to campus. I went to
my room and then decided to take a shower. And
when I got back to my room, it was pitch black,

(04:38):
as I had turned the lights off when I went
down the hall. When I opened the door, a light
from the hallway came in, but it was still dark.
When I closed the door, I got a beard out
of my roommate's mini fridge and went to my desk
to turn on my light. When I did, what did
I see? Jamie laying on my bed in just her

(04:58):
bron panties. He was smiling at me. And now, don't
get me wrong, I like sex and chicks like there's
no tomorrow. But this chick was just weird. I asked
her what she was doing and how she got in,
and then remembered I probably forgot to lock the door
when I went for my shower. She just smiled and said,
I'm yours, do what you want. I threw her a

(05:22):
sweatshirt and told her that this wasn't a good idea,
and she put it aside and pulled me to her
I'm just kidding. Can I sleep here?

Speaker 3 (05:29):
Though?

Speaker 2 (05:30):
Honestly, some guy followed me home from the party and
I ducked into your dorm because it was closer than mine. Yeah,
knowing it was a bad idea, I still let it happen.
I figured I'd let her live out her little weird
dream and then she'd go away. I sat in a chair,
despite her saying I could share my bed with her.

(05:51):
In the morning, when I woke up, she was gone.
Then the phone calls started constantly ringing for an hour
at a time, usually in the middle of the night.
This was in the nineties, so we had one of
those old style desk phones in our room, and my
roommate Tom was getting pissed as the phone was nearest
to him. Nobody was ever on the line. The phone

(06:14):
would ring Tom or I would answer it and they'd
hang up again. It was annoying, and it had to
be Jamie. I started dating a girl, let's call her Cat.
Then every time Cat would hang out or stay overnight,
the phone would ring all night long, to the point
that I would just have to unplug it. One night,

(06:35):
we were having sex and in the middle of it,
there was a crazy pounding on my door. It startled
us and I didn't answer it, but it kept up
until I finally got up and ripped the door open.
There was no one there, but I did hear a
stairwell door closing down the hall, and this happened a
lot when Cat and I were messing around. Another night,

(06:57):
I woke up to Jamie's standing in our room at
like two thirty in the morning, standing over my bed.
I yelled, Tom woke up, and she ran out of
the room. I rarely locked our door, but Tom made
me do it after that. He didn't want anyone just
showing up anymore. I started getting weird letters again and
it had to be from Jamie. Some were bad poetry

(07:19):
and others were pictures of what I assumed was her
naked from the neck or waist down. One time she
sent me a pair of her panties and a note
to suck on them to taste how much she wanted me.
That was it. I went to my RA, who was
super cool about everything, and said he would take care
of it, and he did. Jamie was barred from coming

(07:40):
into my dorm at any time, and RRD spoke to
her RD about her too. Things went quiet. I decided
to transfer to another school after that year and moved
to New Mexico. My mom had moved out there and
it seemed like a smart move for me too. I
grew up in Philly and that's where I was school
before this, and just FYI. So I graduate two years

(08:05):
later and I moved to LA to work in film,
which I still do. Suddenly I started getting weird phone
calls again, lots of hang ups and messages that said
nothing but took up my entire answering machine. Then more letters,
this time threatening stuff like don't ignore me, answer the phone,

(08:26):
or you're missing out on the best pussy you'll ever
get stuff like that. I kept all of them, and
after a month of that shit, I went to the police.
The problem was none of the letters were stamped or postmarked.
The cops said they were likely hand delivered, which I
found out was a crime to use a mailbox without postage.

(08:46):
Sorry stupid sidebar there. The police told me to change
my phone number if I could, which I did, and
to also let my mailman know someone was putting stuff
in my mailbox illegally. Again, done and done. The calls stopped,
but the letters were now just left on my car windshield.
I knew it had to be Jamie again, but how

(09:09):
the hell did she know I lived out in LA
The final straw came one night when I was admittedly
a little more than tipsy. I took a cab back
to my apartment after I was at a party and
I crashed on the couch after drinking a bunch of water.
I woke up in the middle of the night to
hear my shower running. It took me a minute to

(09:30):
get my bearings, and then I realized that someone was
in my place. My door was opened just a bit
and I started freaking out, so I looked for my
cordless phone, but then realized it was in my bedroom,
which was next to my bathroom. I crept down the
hallway to get it and planned on calling the cops
outside my front door, but I didn't get the chance.

(09:54):
As soon as I got the phone and turned to
head back to my living room, the bathroom door opened
and there was Jamie, naked and soaking wet from the shower.
I had to notice she was also holding a knife
from my kitchen set. She smiled at me, but I
didn't stick around for anything else to happen. I ran

(10:15):
out of my apartment and called nine to one one.
Jamie followed me, saying to hang up and that she
was just there to make me happy, and that she'd
kill herself if I didn't stop and talk to her
like I said, I called the cops, and as luck
would have it, there was a cruiser in my neighborhood
and they came right over. Long story short, I waited outside.

(10:37):
They found Jamie in my place, wearing my clothes. When
they got there, and she told them that I had
invited her in and that I had been in love
with her since high school. She told them that she
was okay to be there, to which I said, no
fucking way, and then told them my whole story. They
took her away, and that's the last I ever saw
or heard from her. All I knew was was that

(10:59):
she moved back to and she lives with her mother.
A mutual friend said that she finally got the help
that she needed. But how she knew I moved to
New Mexico and then LA is still a mystery to me,
and how she found out where I lived was even stranger. Still,
I guess now that I look back on it, I

(11:19):
don't want to know. Story two by Mara. When I
was stalked, it was a long, drawn out, years over situation.

(11:43):
It was my first boyfriend. We dated for maybe a
year in change a horrible relationship. He cheated, but I
didn't have the self esteem at the time to cut
him loose, so it went on much longer than it
should have. I broke up with him, deleted his number
from my phone, and deleted most social media. I made
my Facebook page private, but he would message me every day,

(12:07):
multiple times a day, and I just wouldn't respond. He
lived in the next town over, but I would see
him hanging around my town and I would see him
on my way home from school. He wouldn't say anything.
He would just walk parallel to me. He would look
at me, but it was one of those things where
you don't want to engage, but you can tell that

(12:27):
you're being followed. So I just tried to put it
out of my head, and eventually he stopped following me,
and the messages also stopped, so I was relieved. A
couple of years later, I graduated and went to college.
But then when I came back home for my first break,
he started popping up again. I saw him on my

(12:49):
block maybe once or twice, and as I said, all
my social media accounts were private, but as I started
to get older and applied for internships and jobs, I
ended up making them public for my employers. As soon
as I did, Boom, he followed me. Not long after,
I was up late in my room and I heard

(13:11):
something being thrown at my window. So I looked through
the window and I see him standing in my neighbor's driveway.
It's one of those things where you're aware of what's happening,
but it takes you a little while to really process it.
He kept coming back to my window at all hours
of the night. It got to the point where I
wouldn't go downstairs past a certain hour after it got

(13:33):
dark because we have a big glass deck door in
my kitchen. After two or three times, I told my
mom and then we called the police. At first, I
didn't say anything to my mom because she was never
a fan of his. It took me way longer than
it should have to break up with him, and it
put a strain on our relationship as a family. I

(13:55):
didn't want to worry her or further damage our relationship
as a mother and daughter by admitting what was hap
happening to me. I was scared, but I was also
scared of I told you so. The police came and
swept the area, but they didn't find anyone. They asked
if he had made physical contact or threats, and because
he hadn't, they said there was nothing they could do.

(14:19):
Not long after, my mom kept telling me that the
car smelled funny. It didn't stink, it just smelled different.
We shared the car, so we were both pretty familiar
with how it smelled inside, and then one morning she
opened the car door and he was sleeping in the
passenger seat. We put it together that he had been

(14:42):
sleeping in my mom's car for weeks, but I guess
this one particular morning, he didn't wake up in time
before she left, so she caught him. She didn't even
know what to say because she hadn't seen him in
three years, and this is someone her daughter dated as
a teenager, and by now I was twenty one. We
didn't call the police. We didn't think there was anything

(15:03):
they could do. He never made a single physical threat
to us, but that doesn't mean it's not stalking anyway.
He just got up and left, and some time later
I received a letter from him from jail. He detailed
how much I meant to him. My mom advised me

(15:23):
to not say anything. Now. I haven't heard from him
in years, thankfully and truly, though the aftermath has been
a lot worse. A lot of me is still trying
to decide if I was being irrational even though I
felt unsafe. I struggled with whether I was overreacting a lot.
I get that the police can't just file restraining orders

(15:45):
against every single person for breathing the wrong way, but
it seems like there should be an in between before
it gets to actual physical contact. I remember I joked
with my friend one time and said, if I end
up on a milk cart and you know who did it,
And then I thought about it, and it's one of
those jokes that deep down you do believe. You laugh

(16:06):
to make light of a situation in which you feel
powerless and scared because it's all you can do. It's
like a half truth. You're actually halfway afraid that something
bad is going to happen. This is happening right now,

(16:33):
by too crazy for me. I've been trying to decide
whether to post something about this, and where none of
the home security subs really fit or have posts like this,
I think I just need some objective feedback on how
to deal with this using my throwaway account because I
don't want people to know the layout of my house.

(16:55):
So my partner and I just moved to a desert
community in the American Southwest. I've always wanted to live
down here, and so far I absolutely love it. I
love the quiet, living on the outskirts of town with
desert to the horizon in my backyard. How friendly people are,
the stars at night, the wildlife, the space. I'm not

(17:16):
bothered by the occasional snake or scorpion or coyote in
my yard, but I've recently been getting the feeling that
there have been other creatures in my yard as well,
even if I'm not imagining it. I don't know if
this is worth doing something about, or what I can do.
I'll explain. My partner got a lucrative job offer from

(17:36):
a hospital here where he covers the night shift for
his specialty at most of the local hospitals in three states.
Small hospitals in remote areas often offer nice incentives to
bring people in from large cities, and since we were
looking to move here anyway, we decided to take the
position for a couple of years and see if I
could find a job in my field here. In the meantime,

(17:57):
at the moment, I'm working remotely and I stand the
night sh to be able to see my fiance more.
We get up around two or three pm. He goes
to work early enough for me to run around and
do any shopping or chores in the afternoon, and he
gets back from work around five am, and we had
to bet around seven. It's an intense schedule, but he
has every other week off and this is important later,

(18:22):
so after five PM I'm home alone all day at
the duplex that we rent from an elderly couple down
the block. We used to have a medical resident living
on the other side, but she would never talk to us,
and she just moved out. Apparently she tore the place apart.
So there are contractors working on the other side during
the day most days, so I sit at the kitchen

(18:44):
table and work during the night, occasionally going out to
walk our old dog and get the mail or to
water the plants in the courtyard. The entire house is
visible from the courtyard because there are windows and glass
doors leading to basically every room from there. I'm going
to detailed the incidents as they've occurred, with minimal editorializing.

(19:06):
One four weeks ago, I went back to sleep after
my partner left for work. About an hour later. At
one point I woke up and realized that my dog
had been barking for an unusually long time and doing
his danger bark. The long guys and delivery folks come
into our courtyard and we just moved in, so I
figure it's something like that. Still, he knows the delivery

(19:28):
guys and neighbors by now, and they usually leave pretty quickly.
He must have been barking for two or more minutes.
By now, I sat up in bed and looked out
into the courtyard and there's a man I don't recognize,
and he's acting weird. He kind of looks like Willem Dafoe.
He's near the front door, trying to look into the

(19:49):
windows around the side, looking into windows progressively further from
the door. Without thinking, I called out I'll be right there,
thinking that he needed a signature or something thing. The
guy steps back, quickly, turns around and speed walks out
of the courtyard. As he does so, he gives me

(20:09):
this extremely malevolent stare. I've never quite seen anything like
it before. It startled me because he looked right at me,
dead in the eye through the window and just looked
disgusted and hateful. But during the day you can't see
through the blinds from the outside. I've checked. How did

(20:29):
he know where I was? I admit this event freaked
me out and may have laid the groundwork for my
impressions of the potentially perfectly normal events outlined below. I
flashed back to this moment regularly for some reason. Two
three weeks ago, strange stuff starts to happen. My partner

(20:50):
offers to work some extra shifts on what would normally
be as weak off, so I'm often home alone. A
few times I hear what I think must be one
of my elderly neighbors around the side of the house,
but when I go over there, there's no one there.
I start to hear someone walking around the outside of
the house at night. The area is surrounded by gravel,

(21:12):
so unless someone steps slowly, you can hear things moving around.
When I was laying in bed working on things, a
few times, I became acutely aware of noise just outside
the bedroom window late at night. I started checking the
area with the flashlight when I went outside. I heard
bipedal footsteps on the roof multiple times. During the periods

(21:32):
when the neighbors confirmed that no contractors were supposed to
be up there, and it was often at night, the
feeling of being watched a lot at night began, and
I started leaving the outdoor lights on all night while
I was there, especially in the courtyard. I don't take
showers alone because I sometimes hear footsteps on the roof
when I'm in there and there's a skylight over the shower.

(21:55):
I researched bought and installed a security system and a
couple of cameras in the courtyard three two weeks ago,
and this is when things get more serious. I pull
into my parking space and see one of the elderly
neighbors peering into my bedroom window in the afternoon. I

(22:16):
greet him and he says he's going around the side
of the house to activate the sprinkler system that happens
to have the hub on our property. Unclear if this
is related. I put up opaque clings in the windows
of the bedroom to block some of the light while
we're sleeping during the day. As soon as I do,
I stop feeling watched from the bedroom window, but begin

(22:36):
to feel uncomfortable that my view of the courtyard is obscured.
I do feel better for two days. The next night
I start feeling watched from the living room windows while
I'm working, and eventually from the kitchen window. Especially that night,
I have a small panic attack and spend a lot
of time in bed under the covers, with my dog

(22:57):
in the room with me. I don't know the source
of my discomfort and keep telling myself I'm being paranoid
and chalk it up to reading some creepy stuff I
read the week before I have to cancel on an
event because I'm up all day unable to sleep due
to extreme anxiety. I talk at length with my partner
about getting more cameras, but we don't have the money

(23:17):
and I'm still in denial about the reasons for my discomfort,
so I drop it. Stuff in the courtyard is sometimes
moved around. Then I watched the camera to figure out
the neighbor woman did it. Beer cans and some other
stuff is found on the property that isn't ours, but
I think it's the wind. Things related to our cars
and garbage cans start being messed with. But you can

(23:40):
see around for miles and there aren't really many that
people here. I hear tapping on a window and ignore it.
Four last week, we were traveling for part of the week.
When we got back, we were in good spirits. My
partner went right back to work, and my nights became predictable,

(24:02):
feeling good and doing things until a few hours after
it gets dark, suddenly feel shitty and not wanting to
do things that put me near the windows, deciding to
curl up in bed with my dog in my room
and refuse to move until my partner gets home. This
has happened every night this past week. Finally, I noticed

(24:22):
my dogs kept staring at the kitchen window with both
ears facing towards it, ignoring commands or questions for long
periods of time. My very curious cat repeatedly kept trying
to see something outside of it as well during the night.
This finally jogged me back to reality, and I realized
that I feel the suppressive sensation of being watched every night,

(24:43):
starting around ten pm and continuing until dawn. It's mostly
from the kitchen window, but honestly, the whole house freaks
me out.

Speaker 3 (24:52):
Now.

Speaker 2 (24:54):
There isn't really anywhere to run that doesn't have windows
except the garage or the bathroom. Take my phone and
a knife with me everywhere I go. I constantly checked
the courtyard because every room has a door leading to it. Tonight,
I took my dog out and heard someone walking towards
us from the side of the house, and I called out,
showing the flashlight over there, but it stopped and I

(25:16):
saw nothing. Normally, I would have gone to investigate, but
I had the strongest feeling that I shouldn't. The same
thing happened in another location later in the evening. When
I took the dog out yesterday around midnight, someone was
coming across the field I take him to with a flashlight,
and when they got near me, they shut the flashlight

(25:37):
off and I didn't see them after that, and they
didn't respond to my calling out. I'm a mid thirties
female who is not easily spooked. I've worked in law
enforcement and ESAAR and I feel confident in my ability
to defend myself. The landlady was very insistent that we
not changed the locks. She said that a cleaning person

(25:59):
who's stole some of their things had a key to
the lower one, so do not use that one, and
just to use the dead bolt, for which supposedly only
she and I have keys. I feel like I'm in
a slow motion horror movie. But during the day and
partners weeks off, everything is usually fine, So I don't
know what to think. I don't know why I think
that my partner wants me to get my concealed carry

(26:22):
and another younger dog. This isn't known to be an
unsafe area at all, but the properties are spaced pretty well.
I can't tell whether any of this is real or not.
I don't have any close friends here, and I'm planning
to buy a camera in motion lights for the back
when I have money next week. But I know this
sounds crazy. I don't know if that's a good idea.

(26:45):
I think whoever it is, once I've seen them, they're
going to escalate this. This is My Stalker's Story by
Ringo b eighty two. My freshman year of college was

(27:07):
one of the funnest years of my life, and some
of my fondest memories are from that year. But it
was also the scariest and strangest year to date. This
is thanks to one story in particular. There are actually
a couple more that I might post some other time,
and this took place over the entire school year. I
still sometimes wonder how this really happened and I didn't

(27:29):
end up a shut in nut job. It still freaks
me out to this day. August two thousand and one.
Like most freshmen, I lived in the dorms at a
state party school. I opped it out of the good
school I got into, and I guess I had a
little steam to blow off after graduating from a military
college prep boarding school, plus after a sports injury, I

(27:52):
didn't exactly have any specific plan for life that went
past Saturday night, if you know what I mean. A
good buddy from Military Cherry's school, Bill went to the
same college and lived a few floors below me in
the same dorm, so of course we were getting the
party started before my parents' exhaustumes had even evaporated from
the parking lot. For the most part, the first month

(28:14):
or so of college was pretty much like that normal.
I went to most of my classes, partied just about
every night, chased girls around, and that was enough for
the moment. But things began to change one night sometime
in mid September, and college for me would never be
normal again. My dorm phone the landline only Zach Morris

(28:36):
carried a cell phone in two thousand and one, Get
over it and rang in the middle of the night
Hello on the other end. I could only really describe
the voice as the kind you picture when you think
about a computer talking, kind of like the early model
card GPS's.

Speaker 3 (28:55):
Hi Gary, how are you today?

Speaker 2 (28:58):
Not fully awake, I was just confused at that point,
who is this?

Speaker 3 (29:04):
He repeated, Hi Gary, how are you today?

Speaker 2 (29:10):
It became clear I'm being fucked with, so I hung
up and chuckled, fucking Bill nice one, and I passed
back out. I ended up forgetting about the call for
a few days and never mentioned it to Bill or
anyone else. About a week later, I get another call
around the same time of night.

Speaker 3 (29:29):
Hi, Gary, I'm watching you.

Speaker 2 (29:33):
Nice, very cliche. Seriously, Bill, how are you not knee
deep and ever clear or a tried dealt at this hour?
And if already kayed my roommate, it's starting to get pissed.
And then I hung up. I casually confronted my ohso
clever amigo at breakfast the next morning, purposely not trying
to bite too hard to give him a payoff that

(29:54):
might have incentivized to continue the calls. I also wasn't
one hundred percent it was actually him and not another
one of my douchebag friends. He gave a genuinely confused response. Whatever. So,
a couple days after the second call, I came home
and saw I had multiple messages on my answering machine.
What the fuck? I barely knew the thing even worked.

(30:17):
It's Computer Voiced Guy again, and I'll call him CVG
from here on out Message one my machine cuts off
the first one or two seconds of the message, which
tells me it's a bot set to play message.

Speaker 3 (30:29):
Upon answer, Hello, no one is available to take your call.
Please leave a message after the count. Hi, carry, I'm
watching you message too. I thought I might ask you
two minutes or my calls.

Speaker 2 (30:45):
Gary message three?

Speaker 3 (30:49):
Where might carry? Being on a Tuesday night?

Speaker 2 (30:53):
Okay, so one of my friends is clearly an asshole
or bored enough to really push for a reaction here.
The next day I played the messages for kid, who
was around during the calls, which were apparently earlier in
the night when he was still awake. He'd been a
close buddy since we were in junior high, but we'd
sort of taken separate paths after high school, so anyway,

(31:14):
he's aware I'm a wild child and thinks nothing of
the first couple of messages. By the third, he's a
little spooked. I then walked down to a couple of
other buddies rooms and casually but immediately bring up the
subject nada. Over the next couple of days, I pressed
all close and semi close friends, but got zero answers

(31:35):
and zero suspects. The calls started coming more frequently over
the next couple months, starting at once a week, then
to once every two or three days, up to every
day by Christmas break. I don't say anything to my
family at that point, although I really should have. But
started out as a decent beginning of college turned into

(31:56):
not showing up for any class as tests or anything.
Grades reflected, and I'm too busy answering for a point
sixty seven GPA to talk about some dumb prank that
would likely be dismissed as a pathetic attempt at grades explanation.
So it goes. I had an uneventful break and went
back to school, determined to become a new man. I

(32:17):
gotta get my shit together with these grades, so I
tell Bill I'm gonna have to chill out and focus
on school. First night back, I get my first spring
semester call from CVG.

Speaker 3 (32:29):
How is your family in Cyprust?

Speaker 2 (32:31):
That's my hometown? Okay, now this is fucking bullshit.

Speaker 3 (32:35):
Man.

Speaker 2 (32:36):
What kind of douche lords am I hanging out with
that even have the discipline to drag out a prank
this long. I get the answer to that question a
few days later, and the answer is none of them.
Calls become threatening and downright dark.

Speaker 3 (32:53):
I'm very interested in hearing and being close to you.

Speaker 2 (32:57):
Yeah, with that kind of weird sentence structure.

Speaker 3 (32:59):
Like that, I add up tools I can bring. It
is going to be all over soon.

Speaker 2 (33:08):
One day I bring Bill and all my other buddies
up to hear the messages. I never deleted a single
one for some reason. I guess when things happen over
longer periods of time, you don't really feel the accumulative
impact until laying out the complete package of evidence. Guys
were in shock. I guess I should mention that some
of these calls got really specific in making sure to

(33:29):
note specific details about my parents' address, as well as
the violence they were planning on doing to me, cut open.

Speaker 3 (33:37):
Your esophagus, hearing with any puttering.

Speaker 2 (33:40):
Knife, and all sorts of other crap that has sort
of blurred together through the hundreds upon hundreds of calls
I got over the school year. A chick friend of
mine that I really liked in high school named Laylah
went to a different school hundreds of miles away. We've
reconnected thanks to good old a I am and talked
from time to time on the phone. CVG had mentioned

(34:02):
a couple of times your friend and made threats about
this unspecified person from time to time, but your friend
turned into your friend Laila. Laila and I are the
only two people ever named in these calls, but it
did get me wondering if this was a new lead
to this source. Layla is clueless when I called her
about it. Awesome. I know that background was long to read,

(34:26):
but you'll understand why I had to explain the situation
when I tell you about what happens next. One night,
we're all partying and drinking at some hotel. Forgot to
mention all that straight a crap went out the window
as these events progressed. A different buddy, Carl has a nice,
big truck we'd all go everywhere in, but he passed

(34:46):
out drunk at the hotel after pounding an entire bottle
of whatever the fuck. I'm not really drinking tonight and
want to get back to my own bed. I snatched
Carl's keys to drive back to campus, thinking I'll drive
back in the morning get everyone. This was one of
the few times I'd ever driven that year, so I
wasn't tip top on my directions. I made an early

(35:08):
turn and somehow was down a road I'd never seen.
I realized this pretty quick, but I figure I've got
the general direction of campus pegged, so I can just
continue the wrong road until hitting the familiar highway that
I knew i'd eventually have to hit that was close
to campus. I'm finding myself in open fields, still a
paved road and everything, but aside from the road, there

(35:28):
was absolutely nothing, and it was completely black. Around three am,
and there's this really strange four way stop I come upon.
Strange because I'm probably the fourth person in a year
to drive on that road. Anyway, I trudge along, eventually
getting to the familiar highway and home free. A few
days later, CBG interrupts his usual depraved threatening to mention

(35:53):
that specific four way day and time I was on it, which,
like I said, was around three am, and there wasn't
a soul in sight. So yeah, I now realized CVG
is obviously tracking my movement somehow. Note I later joined
the military, worked in the intelligence community and worked special

(36:13):
operations and tracked bad guys all around the world. To
this day, I still can't figure out how this dude
knew I was in the middle of those fields on
that date, in the middle of the night. I never
mentioned it to anyone around March. This apparent rendezvous became
CVG's focal point, and he made sure to let me
know the day was close. The calls were coming in

(36:36):
no fewer than ten or fifteen every single day. Seriously.
The ringer was now off out of courtesy decayed and
I turned down the volume of the answering machine as
his phone calls recorded. But I finally get the message
I had been waiting for. Keep in mind, I have
now become somewhat famous or infamous at this university because
of CVG. People were constantly knocking on my door wanting

(37:00):
to hear the messages friend of a friend of whomever.
I know. It was all people wanted to hear about
at parties, blah blah blah. For a split second, it
was cool because I'm pretty sure I ended up getting
a few dates indirectly from introductions conceived through interest in
the guy with the stalker. Hey, don't judge me. Moving
right along, daytime location are set.

Speaker 3 (37:24):
We will meet in front of Coleman Hall at midnight Wednesday,
twenty seven April, and we will take our friendship to
the next level.

Speaker 2 (37:33):
I know what you're thinking, and yeah, Throughout the year
I had considered the possibility that I was dealing with
a female. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
And I was definitely that kind of dude when I
was eighteen or nineteen years old, the kind that could
attract clinginess and anger. But I started to rule out
females for various reasons that only a fellow ENFJ would

(37:55):
understand and look it up. If you're not tracking, I
can build while with a very high ratio of accuracy
to available information. This creep just didn't feel like a
female to me. It didn't even feel like a peer.
I was convinced I was dealing with mid thirties white
male computer nerd that I'd come into contact with at
some point in my life. Doesn't really matter, because what

(38:18):
I ended up finding out on the twenty seventh of April,
which was a Wednesday and also Leyla's birthday, I was wrong.
Of course, everyone wants to be part of this juicy story,
and there's a pretty ridiculous amount of testosterone floating around
the dorm on game day. This was a real life
creepster and a legit horror story unfolding before their very eyes.

(38:39):
And groupthink will subvert caution if properly motivated. These guys
are ready to defend me with their lives, just ask them. So,
while these monkeys are getting all hopped up on Mountain Dew,
I stayed home that afternoon wondering what the fuck I
was gonna do at midnight. Of course I was going
to go, But dude, yeah, I've been an ath in

(39:00):
good shape and wrestling football and baseball teams, YadA, YadA, YadA,
But I'm still a nineteen year old white male, good parents,
grew up in upper white, middle class suburbia, had a
good life. In other words, I can definitely hold my
own in a street fight. But this, whatever this is,
doesn't feel like anything like a street fight or any

(39:20):
other kind of fight I'd ever been in. This is
a disturbed, violent, angry, and possibly grown ass psychopath that
has decided to dedicate almost a full year now of
his life to targeting and terrorizing me. So yeah, I
was a little friggin nervous. My home team crowd steadily
built up throughout the afternoon and evening, with probably close

(39:42):
to seventy or eighty guys grouped up at our dorms
common area. We were connected to the female dorm at
the first floor. They were smoking cigarettes and talking about
beating the shit out of people and getting fucked up
and all the other generic cliche shit you can imagine.
Once the party hour approaches, though, over half the guy's
splinter off into other various propositions that probably included more

(40:05):
traditional fund like beer bongs and sorority girls. I was
left with about fifteen or twenty guys. I decided earlier
that I was not going to allow all these knuckleheads
to shadow me, but I could definitely use them in
case of emergency. I didn't want to risk this guy
spooking out of the meet, so I let them all
know they would need to stay inside the doors of

(40:25):
the common area while I walked out to the meeting spot.
Coleman Hall was adjacent to our connected girl's dorm, and
about three hundred paces outside door to door to get
to Colman. The hour came, so I left the crew
to begin the longest couple hundred or so paces of
my life. My boys can see me through the glass doors,
but wouldn't really be able to see much. Once I

(40:47):
got to the Coleman Hall door, about one hundred paces
out from my spot, I observed two things at the
same time. One some kind of small, quick movement in
front of the patio walk that goes all the way
around the building, and two the movement was in a
spot along the walkway where the only normally uber bright
bulb was out. I'm not exactly sure exactly how I

(41:11):
was able to see him, but I suddenly realized someone
was crouched behind one of the continuous cookie cutter bushes
outside the patio perimeter against one of the building pillars,
in dark clothes and hoodie. He was a few feet
off from the path where I was supposed to meet him,
and positioned to where I really should not have been
able to see him, given the pillar blocking any shadows,

(41:31):
plus the burnt out in which I later found out
was smashed light. In fact, I could have easily walked
all the way to the door without ever having noticed
someone down there. Nope. I sort of jump midsteps as
this happens, and I see him raise up a little,
thinking I might have seen him. I saw him raise
up and take a step towards me, and fight or

(41:52):
flight hit. I've learned that my particular flight or fight
chooses fight in more mild situations flight during intensity situations,
but for shit your pants situations, it's scarier to run
away with your back to whatever scary shit I was
dealing with, So I decided to fight. Before I realized
what I was doing, I was in a dead sprint

(42:13):
towards this motherfucker who I'm guessing sees what I can't yet,
which is my platoon busting through the glass doors in
hot pursuit. Creepster nopes the fuck out of there, running
onto the patio alongside Coleman Hall towards the parking lot.
I can tell this isn't a mid thirties computer nerd.
I predicted creepster is above average height, above average broad,

(42:35):
and built athletically. That's all I could tell. Really, I'm
not even sure if he was white, because he was
at least ten if not hispanic or middle easter. I
was really booking it. As he turned on a dime
right at the edge of the building, I realized I
was moving fast enough to catch him, but everyone else
is really far behind. I also realize I'm moving so

(42:56):
fast I won't be protected as I turn hard right
at the corner of the building. If he stopped there
toast as I turned the corner, I saw a van
sitting alone in the parking lot in front of me.
It was running and brake lights flickered on, then off
park into drive. It began inching forward towards the exit

(43:17):
home slices, of course, heading for the van, which for
some reason sent this whole new level of fear into me.
This is it, this is really happening, and I'm going
to get fucking murdered tonight. But I can't stop. Something
keeps me moving forward. I guess I'd come this far,
dealt with this crazy bullshit for almost a full year now,
completely unable to do anything other than try to ignore it.

(43:41):
I'm not exactly going places academically at this point, and
my life doesn't quite have all that much purpose to
it yet. If I'm going to get shacked, I will
at least know, and this crap will at least be over.
Plus I still have a chance to catch this madman
before he gets away. If I could get close enough
to die tackle, I'd still be on my own to

(44:02):
deal with the creepster his driver. And now I realized
there's a third one that was manning the sliding side door. Awesome.
I don't care how badass you think you are. When
you're a nineteen year old jock, your chances of taking
down three grown men that are probably violent criminals and
prepared to victimize me are about one and not gonna
fucking happen. Buddy. My turn was wide and slow due

(44:25):
to being full on sprinting, and I lost ground. I'm
probably twenty yards from the lot when he does a
flying leap into the side of the van, and there
couldn't have been any roser seats for a leap like that.
Creepster Number three slammed the sliding door shut as the
van peeled out of the parking lot, banged a right,
and was gone in an instant. The relief of not

(44:46):
being kidnapped and bounding gagged in that van with three
psychos who most likely had some pretty horrific plans for
me was now just as strong as the dread of
the fact that this is still not over with. I
was speechless, and so was my platoon. They caught up
to me a minute later. A few of them caught
up enough to witness the parking lot scene, but no

(45:06):
one was talking. Testosterone had now been replaced with genuine
and earnest concern. They all just stood there with me,
catching their breath and making sure I was okay. One
guy asked if I got a plate number, and I didn't.
There wasn't enough light. We finally started walking back, and
I'm reliving the scene as we retraced our steps. As

(45:28):
we got closer to the original meeting spot, I saw
something that scared me more than anything else in the
entire equation up to this point. On the opposite side
of the pillar where creepy mccreeperson was crouching, there was
a video camera sitting on a stand, pointed right at
the spot I would have been standing at when I
should have not been able to notice it, it was

(45:49):
still recording. I was stalked by a jilted junkie hookup
by KTB. This happened literally a month ago, back in February,

(46:09):
when my boyfriend and I had decided to try out
an open relationship for a little while for various reasons.
We lived separately in one of the larger cities in
the north of Middle America, and there's a decently sized
population of college students like me to keep the gay
community fresh. So I was doing pretty well for myself.
One night, I was bored and scrolling through Grinder looking

(46:31):
for an easy hookup when I got a message from
a guy who was barely eight hundred feet away. He
wasn't terrible looking, and I was a little desperate, so
I agreed to go to his place. He lived quite
literally down the street from me. I mean, I could
see his building for my window, so I walked over
and he let me up into his apartment. We made

(46:53):
small talk, and I mentioned where I lived. Hell, I
even pointed out my window from one of the windows
in the stairwell. From the first I thought there was
something off about the guy. Not necessarily bad, just different
and odd. Twitch in his hands when he gripped the banister,
the vacancy of his eyes when he smiled. I'm not

(47:13):
so cliche to say that he felt evil or anything
like that, but I wasn't exactly surprised that after we
got to his apartment, the first thing he did was
to tell his very pretty and friendly cat to say hello.
And the second thing he did was walk over to
the kitchen counter, grab a needle, and shoot up. I
hadn't even closed the door behind me. I stood there, staring,

(47:38):
and he turned around, dropped the needle on the counter
and went, oh shit, man, should ask are you cool
with that? I am not a good Christian boy. I've
broken into a church while tripping on LSD. I've had
sex on a headstone back in high school. But I
have my standards. So I shook my head mutely, pulled

(47:58):
my hat back on, and opened the door to leave.
The guy rushed over and put a hand on my shoulder. Yo,
I'm sorry, you don't gotta go. We don't got a fuck.
Do you want to watch Transformers three with me or something? Nope,
I said, bluntly, hustling away down the stairs. I bundled
up my scarf against the early February chill and hurried

(48:20):
back down the street to my apartment. He followed me downstairs,
barefoot in pajama pants and a T shirt, until I
stepped outside into the whipping winds. I turned back briefly
to look after a moment, and he was still standing
there in the doorway watching me. I didn't have any
premonitions of doom or weirdness. I mean, I grew up
in Missouri junkies. Barely register is odd to me by

(48:43):
this point, so I just went home and went to bed. Now,
you might have guessed it, but I'd never seen this
dude around the neighborhood before. Truthfully, I hadn't seen most
of my neighbors because my neighborhood is an odd mixture
of white collar suburbia, college houses, and low income housing
like my Paramore's building. All that's on one street, so

(49:06):
it didn't really register when I started seeing him more.
I would leave for work in the afternoon and he'd
be on the other avenue across from my building, just
strolling along, or he'd cut across my building's parking lot
like all the kids in the neighborhood did. A couple
of times I saw him walking across the campus mall,
and my apartment building is directly adjacent to my campus,

(49:28):
but he'd always swerve to avoid me. Once or twice,
i'd noticed him in the grocery store I worked at
as a barista, but it's the only one within walking distance,
and he mentioned he didn't have a car. This went
on for the entire month of February, and eventually I
started noticing he'd always be walking down the street opposite

(49:49):
of my building when I left for my work at
you my usual time and he was only ever at
the store when I was working. He'd never approached the
coffee stand within the store where I worked, but he
always looked at me. A couple of times I noticed
him enter, look at me, pretend to shop, and then
leave without buying anything, and I was starting to feel

(50:10):
creeped out, but he hadn't done anything yet to make
me feel particularly unsafe. One day, late in the month,
I worked an early shift. When I got off, I
felt a little more crazy from lack of sleep, and
I reached my place about twenty minutes before I usually
leave for work.

Speaker 3 (50:28):
Now on the.

Speaker 2 (50:28):
Corner of the sidewalk opposite me was this guy. He
was checking his watch over and over and looking up.
I did a bit of brilliant deductive analysis and followed
his gaze up to my living room window, and then
I looked back down at him. He looked right at me.

(50:48):
There was a moment of tension as we stared each
other in the eyes. Like I said, this dude didn't
give off any evil or dark vibes. I mean, I've
met people that do, but no, what I saw in
this guy's eyes and his face was much more human
and much scarier desperation, loneliness, pain and anger. He hurried

(51:13):
after me. I'm six three and a former sprinter, whereas
he was a five eight junkie wearing flip flops on ice.
I made it to the first set of doors to
my apartment, scanned myself in through the second, and locked
them behind me. He walked through the unlocked first set,
tried to open the second, tried pushing the handicap button
to open them, and then gave up. Look, man, I'm sorry,

(51:37):
he shouted, laying a hand on the glass of the door.
Can we talk about it? I shook my head, Absolutely not, man,
leave me alone. Then I whirled on my heel and
stomped over to the elevator. When I turned back, he
was gone out into the snow. I didn't see him
for a couple of weeks afterward, which is nice because

(51:59):
my my boyfriend likes to walk down the street past
the dude's apartment when he stays over and needs to
go smoke. One night, my boyfriend was over at my place.
He'd just gone out to smoke before we went to bed,
and he mentioned that he wanted me to come with
him the next time he went out. Why I asked,
pulling him in close to me while he shivered. It's

(52:21):
dark and cold, and I get paranoid out there sometimes,
he mumbled into my chest. There's this creepy dude that
sometimes stands on the corner across the way and he's
just staring at the building. One time he asked me
for a sig and I told him I didn't have one,
when I literally had one in my hand. He laughed,
then kissed my chin, and then passed out. I lay there, awake,

(52:44):
troubled when I was sure my boyfriend was deeply asleep meeting.
After about five minutes it passed. I extricated myself and
went to the window. It was a cold, clear night,
and I could see across the street under the orange
glow of the street light, there was the guy. I
couldn't make him out clearly, but when he saw me,

(53:06):
he waved. I flicked him off and closed the blinds.
I didn't feel like I should have to tell my
boyfriend because he was either going to immediately go to
the police, which I hate doing, or he'd try and
defend me. And while I love him with my entire heart,
I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to watch
a fight between a junkie stalker and my underweight, nicotine
addicted boyfriend. So I kept it to myself and I

(53:28):
still haven't told him, but I did start accompanying him
when he went out to smoke. That guy was usually outside.
Sometimes he'd follow us for a bit before ducking down
on a side street, and sometimes he'd watch from a distance,
and sometimes he'd be up in his apartment. My boyfriend
never noticed. I kept my composure and nothing happened. One night, though,

(53:52):
we went out so my boyfriend could smoke like normal.
When we reached the end of the street and turned around,
the stalker was behind us, maybe fifty feet back. I
turned my head to check and there he was. He
waved at me again, and something told me I had
to get back inside. Hey, babe, I said quietly to
my boyfriend. Let's get back inside. Yeah I'm cold, aw baby,

(54:19):
he said, kissing me on the cheek. Okay, I'm almost down. Anyway,
we walked back to the apartment building, and without turning,
I knew that the stalker was behind us the entire time.
I kept my hand intertwined with my boyfriend's and he
kept up the casual conversation we'd been having about how
I hate geese. Well, we got back up to my
apartment and he got changed for bed while I was

(54:41):
grabbing some water. I've never lived in an apartment before,
and I didn't know if it's odd or not, but
this building has a weird telephone in each unit that
rings when someone wants to be let in. Ours never
rings unless it's uber eats. So my boyfriend was surprised
when it started ringing late at night, when neither of
us had ordered anything. Probably just some asshole playing a prank,

(55:03):
I said, on hooking the phone from the wall and
putting it in the kitchen cabinet. He accepted that without
a struggle. There we laid down in bed. When he
was soundly out, I got up, got dressed, grabbed a
couple of things, and headed downstairs in my thick winter coat.
Sure enough, fanboy was out there in the parking lot.

(55:25):
He waved at me and jogged over, smiling broadly. Hey man,
what do you want? I said flatly. Look, man, I
feel like we ended things awkwardly last time. I just
wanted to talk to you, He said, So you stalked me.

Speaker 3 (55:43):
What?

Speaker 2 (55:44):
He started to look angrieror his brows furrowing. Nah, man,
I didn't stalk you. I just wanted to know when
I could talk to you, but you always avoid me.
Now you're walking around out here with that skinny little
bitch boy trying to rub it in my face, and
I don't fucking appreciate that look, man, he said, smiling again,
stepping closer. You wanta go talk about this back at

(56:05):
my place. Ditch the white boy and come hang out
with me tonight. Please. I won't shoot up or anything.
This time he took another step closer to me. I
saw in his right hand a dully gleaming piece of metal,
a folded up switchblade. He smiled at me, and I
stepped back, shaking my head, and his smile drained away

(56:28):
into a deep scowl. Bitch, I'm done asking. You're gonna
come over to my place now and finish what we started,
he growled. He unfolded the knife and pointed it at me.
Like I said, This dude was five eight tops and skinny,
Like I said, I'm six three, two hundred pounds and
regularly lift weights. Also, I had a twelve inch kitchen knife,

(56:50):
which I had drawn from my coat pocket and leveled
at his throat. He looked at my knife and then
back at his and smiled again. All right, bro, bro,
I was just playing. We don't got it. I mean,
we can just talk right here. Bro, I don't leave
me and my boyfriend alone, I said, very quietly. I'll
cut your face off and eat it. What the fuck?

(57:12):
He said, I spent eight years in juvie for stabbing
a kid in middle school.

Speaker 3 (57:18):
I mean I lied.

Speaker 2 (57:20):
He backed up, putting a knife back in his pocket,
and I took a step closer, holding my knife level.
He backed away quickly, almost falling on the ice, until
he was fully spreading back to his place, and I
was chasing him down with my knife till he crossed
the street and I stopped, slid the knife back in
my pocket, and watched him run back to his building.

(57:41):
Then I went back up to my bedroom, told my
boyfriend I just had to go to pee, and then
fell asleep. So nameless, horny junkie, let's not meet again,
or I will eat your face. Cyber stalker found me

(58:02):
by forty five minutes of RoadHead. Six years ago. I
was a new mom learning to balance my job, family,
and health. My social life primarily existed on the Internet
at this time, and Facebook and Instagram were the main
ways I kept in contact with others. I received a
friend request from Stephen, an old friend from high school.

(58:25):
I accepted, and everything was normal for a while. After
a couple of months, Stephen sent a DM asking how
I was. The conversation was fine, but it didn't take
too long for me to realize that this wasn't the Stephen.
I knew they had the same first and common last name.
His profile picture was not a picture of himself, so

(58:47):
I never realized that this was a different person. Either way,
we had several mutual friends and he didn't do anything
specially creepy, so I left him on my friend's list.
He would occasionally message in chat, and he seemed just
like someone that was a bit socially awkward, but harmless.
I would respond, but kept the conversations brief. One day,

(59:11):
I got a text from him, which surprised me because
I never gave him my number. I asked how he
got my number, and he said from my website, which
was fair. I'm an artist and had an email and
phone contact info on my art site. He began texting
several times a day and I would give short responses
followed with something like at work TTYL or dinner with

(59:34):
the fam, have a good evening. He started talking about
his new boyfriend, saying that he was one of the
few gay conservatives and things were going well. I told
him I was glad he had a partner that aligned
with him and wished him well. He then began talking
a lot about conservative politics and was aggressive about it,
and I told him I was liberal, so it was

(59:56):
probably best we didn't have these conversations. His messages began
turning sexual, where he would ask if I wanted to
hear about the sex parties he and his boyfriend through.
I told him no, I didn't really know him and
it was inappropriate. One day, I was busy with work
and returned to my phone to see dozens of messages

(01:00:17):
from him, angry that I wasn't responding, and he went
on and on, sharing very graphic sexual stories. I responded
and told him I had been polite to him because
he seemed like he didn't have many friends, but this
was too much and I was blocking him. I told
him that I didn't believe he was gay and that
he was just saying it in an attempt to make
me think he was harmless. I proceeded to block him

(01:00:41):
on social media, and I blocked his phone number. A
couple of days later, I started getting lots of friend
requests from accounts that I didn't have mutual friends with
and no friends. I knew they were probably fake pages
that he was creating. I would just block them and
move on. Then I began getting phone calls and texts

(01:01:02):
from fake phone numbers. Same thing. I would block them
and move on. I messaged our mutuals to ask what
they knew about him, and none of them knew him.
He had just requested them and they had accepted. He
began sending requests to my friends, family, and any other
woman in my dance troupe. I let everyone know that

(01:01:24):
they needed to block him. For months, not a day
passed that I did not get a weird call or
friend request or DM. It would range from a normal
how are you to vague threats of I could make
you talk to me if I really wanted to. He
lived several hours away, so I wasn't particularly concerned. Things

(01:01:46):
got quieter until one evening my notification started going off
like crazy and my phone was ringing with unknown numbers.
It was on my art page. Probably fifteen different accounts
had posted porn on my page or things like oh
oh as a whore or oh p as a thief.
I knew it was him because he also accidentally posted

(01:02:06):
from his real account. I didn't realize that I never
blocked him from that page. He also sent a message
to my art page saying sorry for that, and he
missed his friend and was just trying to get my attention.
I didn't respond, blocked him and called the police since
stalking and harassment laws are awful. Even though stalking and

(01:02:28):
harassment laws are awful, they didn't do anything. Later that night,
I woke up around two am for no reason other
than I was just having trouble sleeping and I was
up for a while playing on my phone when I
started hearing a strange sound coming from the living room.
It was back and forth between quiet cracking and scratching.

(01:02:50):
At the time, we lived in a large ranch house
and the living room was at the other end of
a long hall. I got up, thinking that my cats
were into something, or maybe after a mouse. I flipped
down the living room light and the sound stopped. I
scanned around looking for my cats when I noticed an
open window. Our windows were large from floor to ceiling

(01:03:11):
and opened by pulling them down from the top. The
top of the window sill had pri marks and the
lock was broken. Thankfully, this house was old and the
windows did not open easily, and he had only been
able to open it by about eight inches. I woke up,
my husband, got my son out of his room, and
called the police. I knew it was Stephen. It was

(01:03:33):
too big of a coincidence that he blew up that
day and then some one tried to break into my
house in the middle of the night. We couldn't prove
it was him. There was no evidence other than what
had happened the day that pointed to him. The police
spoke to him, and I believed that it scared him
enough to leave me alone. I was obviously horrified at
the time and began looking up anything I could to

(01:03:54):
find out about him. I wound up finding his YouTube channel,
which solidified my fears even more. He posted Rush Limbaugh
style rants and would get angrier and angrier until he
was red faced and nearly spitting. He frequently talked about
violence and would show off his gun collection. This led
me to finding his real last name. I googled his

(01:04:17):
name and found that he had been arrested two years
prior for holding a woman against her will in a
hotel and attempting to assault her. Thankfully, she was able
to escape only with a bloody lip. We moved not
long after. I wanted neighbors and off of the farm.
I removed my phone number from my site, and I
locked down all of my social media. I still sleep

(01:04:40):
with a baby monitor in my son's room because I'm
so scared of someone coming in at night. His YouTube
channel was shut down after a bit and I haven't
heard from him since, so, Stephen, I hope you wound
up in jail and let's not meet. Hey, gang, thanks

(01:05:11):
for listening to this episode. If you have a true
scary story of any nature you'd like me to narrate,
email it too, Uncle Josh True scary stories at gmail
dot com. I read them all. If you're catching this
on YouTube and you like what you heard and saw,
why not give it a thumbs up. If you're not subscribed,

(01:05:31):
why not become a subscriber and leave me a comment.
I'd love to know what you thought of the stories.
If you'd like to take your support of what I'm doing.
A step further, find a link to my Patreon page
and the description and get yourself some Uncle Josh or
Campfire Crew merchandise. A link to my Tea public storefront
is down in that description too. Everyone be excellent to

(01:05:53):
each other, and until next time, be wary of things
that go bump in the night. It could be anything
a ghost, a monster, or the guy next door.