Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:02):
Hey, campfire crew, Let's get it on. Hey gang, thanks
for checking out this episode, and be sure to stick
(00:22):
around at the end playing a tune that was actually
written and performed by one of the people who have
graciously let me share their story. I won't tell you
which story, but I'll tell you his name is Keller Hogan,
and I dig this tune. Be sure to stick around
and check it out. Little White Men, submitted by Don P. First,
(00:45):
let me say that I'm a twenty nine year old
male from Kentucky. I have a master's degree in general
psychology and I'm considering pursuing a doctoral degree in neuroscience.
I was about fourteen when this happened. And I also
want you to know that I'm a skeptic when it
comes to ghosts and believe that there must be a
logical explanation to everything, even though it may not be
(01:07):
logic that we currently understand. If asked about UFOs, I
would have to say that I am very skeptical, but
the possibility is far greater than the possibility that there
are spirits of the dead walking among us. The reason
that I mention this is that this story falls somewhere
between UFOs and ghosts. I want to assure you that,
(01:30):
as God is my witness, this is a true story.
It's recently been on my mind and really scares me.
So enough already, here's the story. This happened late one
evening in midsummer about fifteen years ago. Back then, I
had this very strange habit. I was absolutely obsessed with
(01:52):
throwing rocks, and I would spend hours doing it. I
had one spot in particular where I spent much time
engaged in my hobby. There were many rocks there. The
spot was located about sixty yards up the hill behind
my house, and because the summer days were getting very
hot here and one was advised not to be out
much in the day, I'd adopted the habit of waiting
(02:14):
until the evening to go out and do it. It
was a ritual that I had repeated many nights before,
just about every night for the last month or so.
I was a rough boy who was never afraid, and
all the ghost stories in the world wouldn't have kept
me from my love of stone throwing. So that night
I was out there, sitting in my usual spot, just
(02:35):
throwing away. I'd been doing it for about an hour
and it was just beginning to get dark, you know, twilight.
I heard the front door open to my house and
knew that my father was coming out to tell me
that it was getting dark and to come in so
he could go to sleep without worrying about me. He
came around the house and stopped at the bottom of
(02:56):
the hill and then yelled, Donald, Eric, come on in.
It's getting dark and I want to go to bed.
Eric is my little nephew, who was about nine years
old or so. I sat there a minute and said
sort of a low like huh okay. He stopped and
walked a bit closer again and said, Donald, Eric, you
(03:20):
boys get in here now now. I stood up and said,
Eric's not up here. He's there in his room. I'm
the only one up here now. My dad walked up
the hill and asked, well, who are those people you
were talking to? And I said, Dad, no one. I'm
(03:41):
here alone. I could see a scared look come over
his face, and he said, Donald, are you sure Matt
and Eric aren't up here? I said no, Matt, who
is Eric's little friend, isn't even here tonight. He said
that there was someone there behind me and asked if
(04:02):
I had seen them I said no, and we went
and looked around the yard. We searched everything very thoroughly,
and went in to confirm that every family member was
where they were supposed to be. They were when my
brother got up, who had got his pistol, and went
up the road to see that there were no strangers
in the area, and we further searched the yard. All
(04:25):
the while, my poor father wasn't saying much. He was scared,
and I'd never seen him frightened before. It wasn't until
the next morning that he'd recovered enough to give us
the whole story. My father said that when he walked
out to call us in, he saw two little people
(04:45):
standing there dressed in white, like a goddamn doctor or something.
To use his words. He did not see me as
I was sitting down, and he assumed that the little people,
whom he assumed to be about three and a half
or four feet tall, were me and my nephew. When
he yelled, He said that they ran around the side
(05:05):
of the hill above me and then went behind some
small buildings of ours, and he didn't see them again.
Now it's important to note that our yard is totally
fenced in two sections the little white men, as my
dad put it, were behind me. On the other side
of the fence. There was an open gate which went
out into our yard, which is also fenced. They couldn't
(05:29):
have gotten into our yard without me seeing them, and
even so couldn't have crossed our fence so fast, and
then the world certainly would have been heard by us
and the dogs. My father admitted that that scared him
worse than he had ever been scared before. For months,
he wouldn't go out after dark, and after that he
never went out unarmed. It wasn't until he used the
(05:52):
phrase that they were standing there looking right down my
shirt collar that it scared me some. I sure haven't
a clue of what they were, and I often wonder
where I would be if my father hadn't come out
that night, or how many other nights those little white
men had been out there before. My creepy neighbor by
(06:24):
DJ porche Porcini. I'm a twenty six year old female.
I've been living in my current apartment for seven years now,
but my next door neighbor has been living in this
apartment building since the eighties, so he's at least double
my age. Fifty three to be exact. Also, I need
to mention that my neighbor has been diagnosed with schizophrenia.
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I know this because I live in an area where
a lot of people also know this guy. He used
to be an artist and a teacher at a university,
but ever since he got diagnosed, he has been struggling
with finding a new job maintaining his social and private
life too. I don't have any stigmas around mental disorders.
In fact, I often feel quite empathetic towards people who
(07:09):
suffer from schizophrena or other mental illnesses. But he's overleaked,
an aggressive and short tempered person. He's also very huge,
I would say at least two meters tall, and weighs
probably over one hundred kilograms. So there's a reason all
of the other neighbors, including me, people who used to
know him and befriend him, are now afraid of him
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and try not to agitate him, although sometimes it's a challenge.
Since I've been living in my apartment, there have been multiple,
and I don't even remember all of them, occasions where
my next door neighbor has tried to strike up some
kind of conversation with me, mostly when he's in his
manic state and soon to be hospitalized. Sometimes I don't
(07:54):
see him for weeks, even months, but sometimes he is
wringing my house multiple times a day, always asking for
some kind of favor or just wanting to talk to
me about random topics. The first time this happened was
five or six years ago, about half a year after
I started living in my apartment. The first time I
(08:15):
talked to him was after me and my university friend
at the time. We're both walking to my apartment after
a night out. We were both quite tipsy, and as
we approached the doors of my apartment building, we both
had a little bit of a struggle unlocking the code
to get inside because the lock system is quite old
and glitchy. Suddenly, we both heard a man's voice saying
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something to us from behind, Hello, girls, what are you doing?
The voice was trying to sound friendly, although we both
got startled by this guy approaching and getting super close
to us. We both looked at each other and then
at him, and I replied, oh, hello, we're trying to
get inside the building, but the code and lock is glitching.
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He looked at me for about ten seconds, looking me
up and down while smirking mind you. I was nineteen
at the time. It made me feel quite uncomfortable. Then
he asked, do you live here? Is your apartment number X?
I got really uncomfortable after he asked me that question,
but I really didn't know how to react, so I
just said yes. Then he smiled and asked, isn't your
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name so and so? Which was my name? I looked
at my friend and saw that she too felt really
creeped out by these questions. We both stayed silent for
a while, and then he said, okay, girls, I'll help
you open the door. He helped us we got inside
the hallway, but it felt so unsettling because he literally
(09:45):
saw us go into my apartment while unlocking his door
and going inside his Sometime went by and I'd say
maybe two months and nothing happened. Then one weekday morning,
I woke up at around six a I am in
my apartment because my doorbell was ringing. I was living
there alone at the time, and since I didn't have
(10:06):
a people on my door, I felt quite paranoid and
scared to let anyone know I was home unless I
was expecting someone to come over. I always pretended I
wasn't home and I don't do that anymore, though. The
ringing stopped after a while. Since I felt quite scared
and confused why someone would be ringing my doorbell that
(10:27):
early in the morning, I decided to wake up and
get ready for the day. I had to leave my
house at eleven am, so I had a few morning
hours for myself and to study. Around nine AM, my
doorbell rang again and again. I pretended I wasn't home,
but now I had a feeling that the person who
was ringing my doorbell was somebody from my apartment building,
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because otherwise, why would somebody wait three hours to ring
my doorbell again. I felt super creeped out and tried
to be as quiet as pop. At eleven am, I
had to leave my apartment, so I tried to exit
as quietly as possible. As I started to lock my
apartment door, I heard my neighbor's door unlock and him
(11:11):
step out into the hallway and said, hello, there, I've
been trying to reach you the whole morning. Why didn't
you answer? I knew you were at home. I started
to panic, but I didn't want him to notice, so
I just responded, Hello, I was sleeping. I probably didn't
hear the doorbell ringing. He didn't seem to believe my
(11:31):
answer and continued, I've been trying to reach you all
morning because we have a lot of things to discuss.
We don't have much time, but because of me handling everything,
all is under control. For now. You need to look
what I've left under your entrance rug. He was mumbling
a bunch of nonsense, and I realized the guy wasn't
(11:52):
right in his mind. Maybe he was having a manic
episode or something, because he was talking about obscure things
that he needed to take care and I really didn't
understand any of it. He asked me once more to
look under my entrance door rug, so I looked underneath
it was a trial respatula that was broken in half.
(12:15):
I was so confused, but he kept going on about
how I needed to help him and hide it somewhere
because he'd done something with it that he couldn't further
elaborate to me. At that point, I was so scared
I just ran out of the apartment building without replying
to him or looking back. I heard him running after
me for a while, but then he stopped. In the evening,
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I was super scared to go home, but I really
didn't have a choice, so I went. Not even a
few hours went by when my doorbell was ringing again.
This time, I answered, who's there without opening my doors.
My neighbor answered, Hi, I just wanted to apologize about
(12:59):
what I said earlier. Today. I just have so many
things to tell you, he went on, mumbling more nonsense.
He said that he was currently playing a real life
simulation game called Quest, that I played a part in
that game, and that there was something hidden in the
garden nose outside our apartment. He wouldn't tell me what
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it was, and that I needed to come outside with
him and check it out for myself. Obviously, I refused
and instantly called my dad because he lives just a
few blocks away from me, and I asked him to
please come over and help me talk some sense to
my neighbor and ask him to leave me alone. The
worst thing is that my dad came over and had
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a talk with my neighbor and thought the guy was
completely sane and said I was overreacting. Maybe the guy
tried to be nice and polite to my dad, I
don't know, but it left me feeling unsettled. The next day,
I was informed that my neighbor demolished our hallway and
some of the mailbox is attached to the wall by
the entrance. He'd also smashed a window and a light
(14:05):
bulb in the hallway. From what I gathered, he was
being aggressive towards his girlfriend and a few other neighbors
from the building. Police and ambulance were called, and he
allegedly got hospitalized. I also learned that after this incident,
he broke up with his long term girlfriend. That just
really made him spiral downwards. For a few years, I
(14:27):
barely even saw him, and if I did, we just
said hello to each other and that was about it.
But two years ago he started bothering me again. I
wasn't really scared of him anymore, Maybe because my boyfriend
had moved in with me, and maybe because I grew
up a little and didn't feel as helpless and paranoid.
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Maybe it was because he barely talked to me for
three or four years. But still, if there were situations
where I talked to him, I tried not to agitate him,
And besides, I felt like I was the only person
needed tried to intimidate or be aggressive towards. I don't
know why that was, though. Then it all started happening
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again in November of twenty twenty three, when he started
ringing my doorbell many times a day. When I first
answered him, I dared to open the door because my
boyfriend was beside me. My neighbor said, hello, I came
up to you because I wanted to let you know
I'm working on a new project, and therefore I have
to listen to some music. I like to turn it
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up quite a bit, and I hope that you won't mind.
I could see the guy was kind of swerving and
barely kept his eyes open. He also stank of alcohol
and was holding a burnt out blunt in his fingers,
although there was a no smoking policy in our apartment
or hallways. I just said, well, I understand, I also
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like to listen to music loudly, but please don't blast
music late at night when everyone's asleep. He smirked and said,
I know, I've heard you listening to music many times.
I got a bit confused about how we knew that,
because I don't listen to music that loud. But okay,
(16:12):
So from that time on, he started blasting music twenty
four to seven, and there was no way of making
him turn it down. If anything, I felt like he
fed off the agitation of our other neighbors and us
pleading for him to turn the volume down. I regretted
that I ever said it was okay, because there were
several times me and my boyfriend woke up at around
(16:32):
three a m. Because the music was so loud our
walls were shaking. We tried calling the police, which was useless,
turning off the electricity, banging on his doors, and asking
him to stop. We realized the best option was to
just try to ignore it and use earplugs or something,
because he just really wanted to pick a fight with
my boyfriend. Every time my boyfriend would go to him
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and ask him to turn the music down, he would
get super a great and yell at him, saying, you're
not my neighbor. So and so is my neighbor, and
if she's bothered, she should come up to me personally
and address her concerns, which I did, but nothing ever changed.
This went on till at least the end of January
twenty twenty four. At the same time, there were several
(17:20):
times when I was smoking in the garden of our
apartment building. Many times he would notice me through his
window and then come outside to talk to me, ask
me personal questions and compliment me on my looks, and
talk about his projects. He also hoarded lots of random
stuff in her garden because he wanted to make a
little garden housework station for himself, and a bomb shelter
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in our basement, but he never did anything with the
materials that were out there. He once asked me if
I would like it if he made me a bench
so I could sit while smoking. I said no. One evening,
I was outside smoking and I noticed him taking out
several garbage bags outside the basement. It looked like he
was cleaning the entire thing out, and I don't know why,
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but it just gave me weird vibes. After he was
done with that, he came up to me and asked
for a lighter. I gave him mine and didn't take
it back and went inside for a while. I noticed
through the window that he was throwing away random bags
in the trash. And the next day I didn't have
unior work, so I stayed home alone. Yeah, in the afternoon,
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my door bell rang. I answered the door and it
was my neighbor. He said, I can you please come
to my apartment because there's a friend of mine inside
and something is wrong with his leg. I looked at
him in disbelief and said, my friend, what's his name?
When I asked this, I saw his reaction. I was
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trying to understand whether he was lying or genuinely needed help.
He hesitated and then said the name of his friend.
I replied, how long has he been in your apartment
and what exactly happened to his leg? What kind of
injury does he have? He didn't seem to have an
answer right away, but then he replied, I don't know.
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He's been at my house for several days, and I
can't explain what kind of injury it is. I told
him there's no way I am entering your apartment, to
which he replied, I'm afraid you don't have a choice.
You have to come and help me out. I shut
the door as quickly as possible and locked it. There
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was no way I was going inside his apartment. I mean,
God knows what his plans were for me, and I
wasn't going to risk it. A few days later, he
rang my door bell again, asking me to come outside
onto the street because there was a dead guy, a
homeless person who most probably died from the cold, and
he told me that we had to help him. I
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went outside and the ambulance was already there, the dead
person was already covered up, and there was nothing I
could have done. Then my neighbors started to ramble about
how all of it was connected to some kind of
robbery and some guy robbed him, and now there was
a dead body on the street and everything was connected.
I didn't understand what he meant by that, But was
(20:20):
it his friend or some other person he knew? Was
it the guy who robbed him? Was my neighbor involved
in it? Or was he just out of his mind?
I really didn't want to know, but it seemed that
nobody was suspicious of him. I genuinely didn't and still
don't know what to believe, because I feel like this
guy would truly be capable of murdering someone, in my opinion,
(20:43):
He recently made spiked brass knuckles that he used against
a policeman, and he would often visit neared by dive
bars with a knife in his pocket, threatening to stab people.
There are currentless more situations I've had to endure with
this guy, but I feel like this story is already
getting too long. Thanks for listening. The night I stumbled
(21:12):
into a town that didn't exist by extra tap Arizona
is a big state with lots of little towns and cities.
What I discovered in the desert of eastern Arizona still
haunts me to this very day. I was leaving Globe, Arizona,
a small mining town, after I finished a gig. I'm
(21:34):
a musician, and I had a show at a casino
on the reservation nearby. I had another show in Tucson
the following day, so I left right after the gig.
It was about one am and I was driving in
the middle of nowhere. Suddenly I saw many break lights
ahead of me. There seemed to be a crash that
stopped traffic completely. Still, being the impatient person that I am,
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I took a dirt road detail I thought, at the
very least, if the road didn't go west, I just
go back the way I came. This was in two
thousand and five and my cell phone had no reception.
Around me was a dark desert with no street lights,
gas stations, or anything. I remember feeling creeped out about
(22:19):
the area and started to regret traveling on this road.
Sprinkles started hitting my windshield as I noticed it starting
to rain. This was mid August and the high of
our monsoon season here in Arizona. A monsoon is no joke,
and I knew if I was caught out in this
back road in a flash flood and I'd be in trouble.
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At that time, i'd been on the road for at
least thirty miles. As I started to panic, I decided
I needed to find shelter or somewhere I could get directions.
The road that I was on was not listed on
the map, and I felt i'd gotten turned around since
it was windy and a mountainous area. I now was
(23:01):
pouring rain and I saw another road, but that one
was paved, and there was a gate that was keeping
it closed, but I was able to go around it
through the brush. I was thinking to myself, this must
be somebody's home. Hopefully they let me use their telephone.
It was a nice road, not like the dirt road
that had led me there, which by that point had
(23:21):
turned into a small river. I drove and drove and
drove until suddenly I saw a structure ahead. It almost
looked like a border check point, but no one was there.
Seeing that gave me a temporary feeling of relief as
I saw the first sign of human life. And over
an hour, I kept going and I saw I was
(23:42):
coming into town. There was a small gas station that
wasn't lit up and it had an old pump and
ghost style pump that didn't seem to be in service.
I got back on the road and drove into this town,
just looking for some one to tell me where I
was and how to get back to the main highway.
None of the stores were open. There were dim street
(24:03):
lights every few hundred feet, but it didn't seem like
anyone was there. Not one car on the road but
their work cars parked sporadically around the town. I couldn't
find one single person, and my intuition was starting to
tell me that something wasn't right about that place. Suddenly,
to my relief, I saw the lights of a police
(24:25):
car behind me that that seemingly came out of nowhere.
I pulled over in an empty parking lot of a
diner that had been closed down. And as a side note,
everything in the town seemed old like from the fifties,
but everything was in perfect condition. Very strange. The police
car shone a huge light on my car and sat
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there without any officer getting out. I must have been
five minutes. I was confused and irritated, but I was
still glad I had found the law. Finally, a man
stepped out of the squad car and started walking up.
I remember thinking, Wow, this guy is huge. He was
(25:07):
holding a flashlight with his left hand, and with his
right hand he had his hand on his firearm holster.
I immediately started to feel like I was in danger,
which I never feel around law enforcement. The officer stepped
up to my window, and as I started to explain
my situation, he looked me dead in my eyes. And
(25:28):
to this day I can't really explain it, but I
knew right away he was not a good person. I
felt like he was looking right through me. He didn't
say a word, and he didn't seem to be interested
in anything I was saying. He was just watching my
movements in my body language, and kept observing me while
in deep thought. As I started to feel incredibly uncomfortable,
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he ordered me to step out of my car. His
voice was deep and his stare was cold. I didn't
want to leave my car, but I I felt I
had no choice. As I stepped out to try to
explain my situation, he interrupted me and asked, how did
you get in here? And I told him how, and
he again didn't seem to be interested in anything I
(26:13):
was saying. Two more officers pulled up, and both of
them had that weird, creepy, cold demeanor. I still hadn't
seen one other car driving around in that town. The
only people I'd seen were these three policemen, all tall
and slim and stature, clean cut and shaven, with a
strange look of nothingness in their eyes. They searched me
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head to toe and sat me down, and then proceeded
to search my car. They must have gone through every
inch of that old red Mazda and went through every
bag I had in it. They pulled out a voice recorder,
a camera, and a guitar tuner and asked me what
the purpose of those devices was. Again, it was like
(26:57):
they had no interest in what I was saying and
were instead observing how I was saying it. Looking back,
I now know they were trying to see if I
was really lost or not. They confiscated all of my
devices and even my cell phone The device they really
seemed to be interested in was the camera. They asked
(27:19):
me what I was taking pictures out, and I said,
I'm a musician and I'm on tour. I'm just trying
to document the trip. They looked through my cell phone
and camera, and I think they must have come to
the conclusion I really was telling the truth. They all
talked for another minute or so and told me to
sit tight. The officer that originally stopped me walked up
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and began to tell me that I was on government
land and I was trespassing in a restricted area, even
though I never saw one sign stating that it was
just that closed gate at the beginning of the road,
but I had felt I was in a life or
death situation, so I trespassed. The officer then told me
I had trespassed into a top secret military operation, and
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if I were to ever come back or tell anyone
about the place, I'd be tried for treason. A white
van showed up with nothing on the side of it.
The police cars also didn't have a city or town
name on them. They told me they were going to
get me back to the road and they were going
to drive my car, and I must ride in the
back of the van. It had a plastic bench going
(28:27):
down the side of it and a divider separating the middle,
making it to two compartments. They forced me in and
I felt incredibly claustrophobic. I'm not sure how long I
was in the back of that van, but it felt
like three hours, and it was the scariest three hours
of my life. When they finally let me out, it
was starting to be light outside. I got in my car,
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which was completely filled up with gas, and I went
on my way. My cell phone was in the cup holder,
but not my camera or voice recorder, and they also
kept my tuner for some strange reason. I wasn't anywhere
near where i'd turned off the highway. They had let
me out in a small town named Lordsburg, New Mexico. Yeah,
(29:13):
they took me all the way to another state. I've
told very few people about this incident, and I never
went to the public, and nor do I want to.
These guys were the scariest guys I've ever come in
contact with. Still to this day, and I'm now fifty
four years old. I'm posting this to see what people
(29:34):
think I stumbled across because to this day, It still
baffles me. I was in eastern Arizona, about thirty miles
west of the Globe. Yeah, I know, New Mexico is
east of globe. I don't know why they drove me
in that direction. Shaking Doors by Lisa. This happened to
(30:05):
me about five years ago. My friend's dad and his
girlfriend and her daughter had gone to the casino on
this night, so she invited me over and we watched
movies in eight pizza. We got tired kind of early,
so we decided to go to bed. This was around
ten thirty. Her bedroom was up at the back of
the house, and she left the kitchen and meal area
(30:27):
lights on so the hall was lit up. I woke
around elevenish as the dog was barking loudly out the back.
I sat there quietly for a while, listening to what
he was barking at, and not long after I heard
a deep voice yell shut up to her dog. I
looked at my friend to see if she had heard it,
(30:48):
but she was asleep. The dog didn't bark again, and
I went back to sleep it cautiously. Around eleven thirty,
my friend got up to get a drink and I
had woken up when I heard her get up. When
she got back, she mentioned how quiet her dog was,
and I said that a while earlier I had heard
(31:08):
someone tell her dog to shut up. She said that
the dogs were never usually this quiet, and while we
were sitting there talking, we heard the meal area security
door start shaking. We looked at each other and I
jumped on to the bed with her. The door kept shaking.
After a few minutes, it stopped, and we thought someone
(31:30):
was out in the back. I told her to turn
the kitchen lights off, as her kitchen and meal area
didn't have any curtains and someone could have been watching
her when she had gotten her drink. She ran off
to the kitchen and turned the lights off, and I
stood in the doorway waiting for her. We both stood
there trying to look around the corner at that meal
(31:50):
area door. We didn't see anyone there. While we were
staring at it, everything went quiet, but then the laundry
door started shaking closer to where we were standing. We
nearly shit ourselves and started panicking. She said that we
should call her dad, but the phone was in her
(32:11):
dad's bedroom and her mobile was in the lounge room.
We began to walk around to the front of the house,
and meanwhile the meal area door started shaking again. We
got to the lounge room and she got her mobile
and rang her dad, but her phone kept cutting out,
so she got the phone from her dad's room and
called him back. She told him what was happening, and
(32:32):
he told her to ring the police. Afraid to hang
up on him, she rang the police on her mobile
and was on the phone with both of them at
the same time. The police came out in about twenty
minutes or so, but in the meantime we just sat
in the lounge room in the corner, still on the
phone with her father, who was also on his way home.
By that time, the doors had stopped shaking. When the
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police arrived, we dashed out to the front and told
them what we had heard. They went all around her
backyard and they opened her gate and the dog came
bolting out and then started barking. He was running around
and wouldn't sit still. The police came back and said
that they didn't find any footprints in the garden and
there was no sign of anyone being out there. Then
(33:18):
my friend's dad and his girlfriend and daughter arrived and
tried to calm us down. The police they left as
they found nothing. When we went to bed, my friend
told me that her mother's ashes were in the lounge
room in an urn, and she thinks that's what protected us.
Words can't explain how frightened I was. And that is
(33:40):
the scariest thing that's ever happened to me. Creepy, delusional
girl I met at a conference by emotional string. This
story happened almost a decade ago, but it still creeps
(34:02):
me out whenever I think about it. And it's a
little long, so brace yourselves. I usually write horror fiction,
but this time I want to share one of my
creepiest experiences for context. I a male of twenty four,
was in my final year of grad school at the time,
and I was participating as a presenter at a conference.
(34:25):
It wasn't a big deal, just a requirement I had
to take in order to graduate from the university. The
conference was run by a committee of undergrads. There I
met a female student, most likely three years my junior,
a female of twenty one. She was one of the
conference committees, probably a liaison officer. At first, there was
(34:48):
nothing suspicious about her, and really she came across as
totally normal. She was polite and seemed genuinely enthusiastic about
helping me with the event. But pretty soon I start
noticing different little things. For instance, she spoke loudly around me,
invaded my personal space, and occasionally touched me as we conversed. Well.
(35:10):
I was obviously uncomfortable, but I tried to think more positively.
I know some extroverted people act like that. Also, I
should mention at the time, I was already in a serious,
albeit long distance relationship. My girlfriend and I were talking
about getting engaged after my graduation, So to me, this
(35:32):
girl was just another stranger. I was just there to
present my paper, get my certificate, and go home. So
when the conference ended, I assumed that was the last
I'd see of this woman. But a week later I
got an e mail yes from that female committee. She
(35:53):
said she wanted to write a paper on a topic
similar to what I had presented and asked for references.
Totally normal request, right, So I sent her a few
PDFs and wished her luck. I thought that was that,
except it wasn't. A few days later she emailed again.
(36:15):
This time she asked me if we could meet in person.
So I could check her draft. I politely declined and
told her she could just email it to me. She
didn't let it go. She insisted she needed to see
me in person. Then she mentioned needing a certain book, which,
unfortunately for me, she knew I actually owned and didn't
(36:35):
need anymore. So I tried to rationalize things to myself.
Maybe she indeed was a struggling student. If I gave
her what she wanted, she'd probably stop right there. So
I thought, okay, I'll give her the book in person,
make it quick, and then call it a day. The
next day, we met at the university library. I swear
(36:59):
it lasted less than five minutes. I handed her the book,
said she could keep it, and left. I made sure
my expression was cold enough, hoping it sent the signal
loud and clear. She, on the other hand, looked extremely thrilled,
like a kid seeing their favorite ice cream truck. But
again I tried not to think too much about it.
(37:21):
I went home and that was it, and that's when
the creepiness really began. A few days later, I got
a text from her, which was weird because I never
gave her my number. Turns out she dug it up
from the participant confirmation list of the conference, something which
should have been kept for registration purposes only. I immediately
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felt creeped out and irritated. I texted back, saying my
number was strictly for personal use only. Her reply, why
not make it personal this time? What the fuck? This
girl was definitely nuts, I thought to myself. I had
no time for bullshit, so I didn't respond. I thought
(38:08):
ignoring her would make her go away. Instead, things escalated.
A few weeks later, a friend pulled me aside and asked, Hey,
are you dating that girl you met at the conference?
I froze, what, No. My friend looked at me seriously
and said, well, she's telling people you are. My stomach dropped.
(38:34):
As I mentioned I was already in a committed relationship
planning to propose soon. The last thing I needed was
for crazy rumors to spread in a panic. I denied
it immediately, explaining that I barely even knew her. I mean, hell,
I couldn't even laugh the rumor off because it would
definitely jeopardize things. That's when my friend said, you need
(38:54):
to see this. She happened to follow the girl's private
Twitter account and showed me screen shots and man, I
do love some creepy pastas, but this still ranks in
the top three creepiest things I've ever seen. Heurt bio
literally had my username in it, like we were together.
(39:15):
Almost every tweet was about me. Some were cutesy, some
were slightly rrated, but all of them framed us as
if we were an actual couple. Things like he looked
so tired today, wish I could cuddle him to sleep.
Thanks for making my day. It was the sweetest library
date ever. And he acts cold, but I love it
(39:40):
when he plays it cool. That was the library date. Yeah,
that was the five minute handoff where I shoved a
book unto her hands and left. I mean, that was it,
but in her head it was a romantic memory. Even creepier,
she was subtweeting me without following me. For instance, if
(40:02):
I tweeted something like man, what a long day at work,
she'd post, wish I could pamper you after work. You
deserve to be happy. I was horrified. It was like
she'd created this parallel universe where we were in a
relationship and she was broadcasting and for all of her
followers to see and worse without me even knowing it,
(40:26):
And so I told my friend that the rumors weren't true.
I also asked her to tell everyone in her immediate
circle that the girl was not right in the head,
and I thought it would alleviate things. It didn't. The
following week, my friend showed me more screenshots from her account.
This time her tone had shifted completely from lovey dovey
(40:48):
into rage. She was tweeting about me ghosting her and
calling me ungrateful, acting like I'd betrayed her. And then
came a tweet that made me go cold. He has
a girlfriend. Won't believe it until I see her, But
if I ever see her, I'll make that person regret
(41:08):
stealing him from me. That was the moment my fear
turned real. Before then, it was disturbing but harmless, only
like watching someone hallucinate but threatening my girlfriend. That's where
I drew the line. I searched her name on the
web and blocked all her social media, going into full
(41:30):
paranoia mode. I told my close friends what was happening
in case she tried to rope them into her narrative. Luckily,
my girlfriend believed me. When she saw the tweets and
the pictures of the girl, she could immediately tell that
it wasn't someone I would ever be interested in. Thankfully,
soon after I graduated and had a chance to move
(41:52):
away from the city where my university was, I was
living hours away and my girlfriend now my wife with me,
But the idea that she had even thought of targeting
her made me shudder. Years later, that same friend who
spilled the tea said she had done the same thing
again to another guy in her cohort. The pattern was
(42:15):
the same. She would spread rumors, reframe innocent encounters as
romantic dates, and post about him obsessively. Well, the scariest
part wasn't just her obsession, it was how easily people
around her target could believe it. If my girlfriend had
seen her tweets before hearing my side, and if colleagues
(42:38):
had believed the rumors first, I could have wrecked my life.
So to the girl from the conference, let's never meet
again ever. Dark Shadow submitted by Mike D. When I
(43:02):
was growing up in West Texas, Ranger, Texas, I lived
in the house that my grandfather had built. Both my
grandfather and grandmother had died in the house and had
been built in nineteen oh three, and it's still there.
My great grandfather was one of the original settlers in
that area, and this was a few years after the
(43:24):
Civil War, and he had surveyed the area right after it.
The house set a downstairs area that was originally heated
by three fireplaces. The upstairs had a finished room, and
then the rest of the attic was unfinished. The unfinished
part was accessed by a regular door, and the upstairs
room had a closet and in general could be lived in.
(43:48):
When I was in the fifth or sixth grade, my
dad revamped the upstairs room and built in a bookcase
so I could have my own room. I moved to
that room and the stairs to my room were enclosed
like a tunnel. The stairs went up to a landing,
then turned left and then went to the top landing.
Then to the left of the top landing was the
door to my room. There was another access door to
(44:11):
the right of the top landing to another part of
the attic, and this had the effect of isolating the
upstairs room from the rest of the house. There was
a large dormer with three windows, and that's where my
bed sat in my room. The old house had a
roof that was very high peaked and convoluted, so the
attic had several accesses and many nooks and crannies. The
(44:35):
park just off my room was filled with junk and
trunks full of old stuff, some of which I wish
I had now, but that's another story. My grandfather had
planted several trees out front, and the only one that
had lived was a very large sycamore that draped over
the house. The last time I was there, it was
still there, and it had planted in nineteen o three
(44:57):
or nineteen o four. The shadows from that tree fell
on my windows at night, and the tree scratched the
house sometimes when the wind blew. My father had lived
in the house his entire life, and when he got married,
my grandmother was dead, and my grandfather died soon after that.
Then soon after that I came along. The only extraordinary
(45:22):
thing that happened was that at night and sometimes in
the daytime, the stairs would creak and pop like some
one was coming down them, and then the floor in
the living room would creak like some one was walking
across the floor. The house was a pure beam foundation.
We always attributed that to the house cooling off or whatever.
(45:43):
Sometimes a rocking chair in the living room would slightly rock.
We always attributed that to air currents. My aunt ended
up with that chair while visiting her. One time, I idly
rocked it with my hand while it was empty. She
became very dis and explained that it was very bad
luck to rock an empty chair. She didn't expound on
(46:06):
that anyway. My room is never really dark, as there
was a street light on the corner that came through
the windows. The door that went to the other part
of the attic had a glass panel with white curtains
on it. There was a window in that part of
the attic and the light from a street light on
the other corner would shine through that window. That window
(46:27):
in that part of the attic face north and the
windows by my bed face south. In January or February
of my eighth grade year, my father was transferred to Athens, Texas.
He went to live in a motel and we stayed
until school was out. That's when some things started happening.
(46:49):
Before the noises of the house didn't wake me up
or caused me any concern. I started waking up in
the night for no real reason at all, and usually
there would be a smoky vapor in the air. Uniform
like fog, but wispy like cirrus clouds. I could see
it in the light that it came through the window
that faced north, and that began to spook me a little.
(47:12):
Then one night I woke up in the middle of
the night and there was a shadow on the curtains
on the door to the attic, like someone was standing
on the other side of the door and the light
was at their back. It was the shadow of a person.
I turned on the lights and checked out the attic
with my flashlight, and I found nothing which I could
attribute to that shadow. Oh. I turned off the lights
(47:36):
and the shadow wasn't there, Just a clear panel of
light on the curtains. That happened several more times, and
after that I started sleeping with a gun. Yeah, this
was West Texas in the late nineteen forties. One night
I let the thing, whatever it was, have at it
with an old thirty eight pistol, three shots right through
(47:58):
the door. There was nothing on the other side of
the door, and the bullets lodged into an old chair.
The other thing that made the hair on my next
stand on end was that my mother and sister didn't
even wake up with all that noise. I got a
lot of kidding from my friends in a chewing out
by my folks, But after that until we moved, I
(48:20):
slept on a cot downstairs in the living room. He
followed me through my own apartment complex at night. By
Fibonacci Linguini. I live in a managed complex that has
(48:41):
two buildings, the main one with the lobby, mail room
and amenities, and the secondary one, which I currently live in.
On Sunday night, I had a door Dash delivery drop off.
I always tell them that they can drop off my
orders at the secondary entrance in my buildings so that
I don't have to cross over to the main building,
(49:01):
but I don't think they ever read the note no worries.
I read the notification from door Dash and I saw
it was delivered to the lobby in the main building.
Ran around eleven pm. I made my way over and
I noticed my dasher even left a note saying there
was a suspicious man in the lobby and that he
was worried he might take my food. I figured he
(49:23):
said that because he was waiting until I got there.
When I got there, there really was a guy sitting
there on his phone but carefully watching my food. He
saw me approaching and said, you're here, to which I responded,
thanks for waiting. Must be the door dasher. I picked
(49:45):
up my order and started to turn around, and he
also got up, except he started heading in the direction
of the elevators, not the exit. He started chatting, I
actually live in this building. My name is blank, and
I live in building number blank. What's your name? I
(50:05):
gave him a fake name and cut the conversation short.
The piece is coming together in my mind. This wasn't
the door dasher. It was the suspicious man pretending to
be the door dasher, and who had even waited for
me to come down as though he had made the delivery.
To get back to my building, the secondary one, you
(50:26):
can either use the elevators in the main building to
go to the fourth floor and transfer to the secondary building,
or you can cut across the garage and the main
building to the second building. I noticed the key fob
in his hand and waited for him to click the
elevator and step inside. When I gathered that he was
taking the elevator and definitely didn't want to share an
(50:48):
elevator with him so that he would know where I lived,
I decided I would take the shortcut through the garage.
It's a straight line and maybe less than two minute
walk to the other side. After the guy stepped into
the elevator, I walked through both sets of doors and
into the garage. My senses heightened. Half way through, I
(51:09):
decided to look behind me to verify that I was alone,
only to see his body in the doorway. He hadn't
taken the elevator. He was following me. I booked it
heart racing right through the garage doors. I started jamming
the elevator buttons, hoping it would come down quickly, but
(51:31):
I could hear the elevator car was still on its
way down. In a split second, I tried to think
if I would be strong enough to hold down the
door with the weight of my body if he came
pushing through. But that would mean we would be stuck
in this area in the garage with probably little to
no cameras, witnesses, or any cell service. I was running
(51:52):
out of time. I hied the stairwell and carrying my food,
booked at two steps at a time, up two floors.
I was now on the fourth floor, which is normally
the floor you would transfer on to get to the
other building. Although I was now in the secondary building
my building, I was worried if he indeed was still
following me. He knew which building I lived in. I
(52:16):
needed to go back to the main building. If he
was still behind me, I would know for sure that
he was following me, because I basically had just done
a circle. From the corner of my eye in the distance,
I could see someone taking out their trash from the
reflection of the door at eleven p m. This was
(52:36):
the first person I had seen, and I needed to
be next to any one. I cut through the courtyard,
through the conservatory, and into the hallway on the fourth
floor in the main building. Just as I stopped to
catch my breath, the guy burst through the conservatory doors
and caught up to me, huffing and puffy. He accused
(52:57):
me of stealing the door dash as yelling, he got
in my face and told me that I could be
evicted and sent to prison. I couldn't look him in
the eyes for longer than three seconds, but he looked bewildered.
At that point, the person taking out their trash to
the shoot was nowhere to be seen, and this man
kept getting closer to me. I was backing up. He
(53:19):
was inching closer. I tried talking loudly, hoping if anything
were to happen, the residents in the unit behind me
would hear. He continued to raise his voice, claiming that
the one nineteen number on the receipt stapled outside the
bag was the real person's apartment number, and that I
had stolen it from them. Taking a quick look, number
(53:44):
one nineteen was in fact the order number, not the
apartment number, but he was convinced it was someone's apartment
unit number. For a lot of reasons. That logic didn't
make sense, but it did imply that. Not that I
needed to explain it to him, but I could have
been trying to go from the main building to the
second building, to the fourth floor, to the main building
(54:06):
to the second floor to lose him so that we
didn't have to share the elevator, and he know where
I live. Also, even if I was taking someone else's order,
which I wasn't, he was going to follow me to
my apartment to verify where I live, which is scary,
and ensure my apartment matched the number he assumed was
the apartment number on the bag. Also, he was able
(54:28):
to catch up to me relatively quickly, considering I was
sprinting and out of breath. That meant he was deliberately
following and chasing me down, which as a man, circumstances aside,
but especially for the rationale of stolen food, I'm not
sure why you would ever willingly chase a woman by
herself at night, knowing how it would look. He was
(54:51):
also studying my order and receipt, because you had to
be in close proximity to the receipt to see that
the fading ink red one nineteen. And lastly, it was
never about the order, because why did he pretend to
go on the elevator in the beginning, only to then
turn around and chase me across two buildings for an order.
He didn't even know what apartment number I was going into,
(55:13):
and it definitely dawned on him that up until that
point we were the only people around. As I was
standing there, him inching nearer me and poking the receipt,
I thought I heard someone coming through the hallway in
the distance. He clicked the elevator button, continued his threats,
and I didn't even wait for him to finish getting
(55:34):
on the elevator I sprinted back through the conservatory, through
the courtyard, and back to my building, taking the elevator
up to my floor. I got to my apartment feeling
paralyzed but shaking from what I thought was the end.
That night, I was so terrified that my breathing got
labored and raspy. I don't even have asthma, but I
(55:56):
could barely catch my breath for minutes, grasping onto any
anything I could so that I could feel grounded and
not choke from the lack of air. I'll never forget
the moment I looked back in that garage and saw
his body in the door frame. I wrote a long,
detailed email to my management with screenshots from the door
(56:17):
dash in exact accounts and locations of where everything happened,
so that they could corroborate my account with their camera footage.
It's now been four days and I've been awoken every
morning by my heart racing, hot flashes, and paranoia with
every drop of a sound. This is a new kind
of anxiety I've never felt before. My days are clouded
(56:38):
with fear of bumping into this guy in common spaces.
How to plan my days with the highest likelihood of
avoiding him, and how to strategically order and pick up
my mail where I know I won't have to see him.
I don't know if these extreme symptoms, especially the heart racing,
are normal after this experience, considering I know a lot
(56:59):
of and have had more frightening, violent encounters with strangers
that involved more than what happened to me that night,
but it has been consuming me for the past few days.
I feel unsafe in my own building. The next morning,
my management maintenance two men came knocking on my door.
(57:19):
Of course, I was already frazzled from the events of
the night before, and although I opened the door, they
could see I was visibly shaking. They came to apologize
about the events, saying they had seen the footage and
that it was scary. I needed to file a police
report immediately, and the property manager was kind, saying he
(57:40):
would sit and call the police with me so that
I wouldn't have to do it alone. I asked if
they knew this resident and if they were aware. He
said they knew who he was and that this wasn't
the first time he had been reported for bothering a resident.
My stomach sank. I quickly got ready and met the
pro property manager downstairs outside our building but away from
(58:03):
my areas. My property manager is known to see this
guy hanging out, and we made the call together. After
I gave my account, the property manager chimed in with
his accounts of what happened. I was the fourth or
fifth female that this guy had harassed. He had harassed
women in the complex before, but never followed them at night.
(58:26):
The property manager had managed multiple properties before, but he
had never seen a resident following another resident like that.
The guy usually found a woman by herself and kind
of honed in on them. He didn't approach men, and
he didn't approach women when they were with men. The
people who live on his floor have complained numerous times
(58:47):
that he harasses them, making it bothersome for them. He
had been arrested before for harassing a woman, and he'd
been sent to the hospital before of his mental health issues.
He was most recently booked and released just two weeks ago,
and management wasn't aware that he was back. The responder
(59:07):
on the other line noted that this was quite severe,
so they sent an officer to the scene to collect
an official report. By that point, as we were talking,
I learned the resident's full name, birthday, unit number that
he lived in. When he moved in, it was been
less than a half a year, so assuming he had
a twelve month lease, he still had a ways to go.
(59:30):
The officer asked if I could remember if he had
a tool or a weapon in his hands. But I
said I couldn't remember, not that I knew. I said
there was camera footage, so couldn't we check and see
if he did. But the officer said, if I couldn't remember,
and it turns out the purp did in fact have
a weapon, I couldn't go back on my word and
(59:50):
say there was a weapon. I felt threatened. I was stunned,
I told the officer. But there's evidence of him following
me a woman alone, as well as threatening me across
two buildings, one of which he had no business being
in at eleven o'clock at night. The officer asked if
(01:00:11):
the guy used words like I will kill you or
I will shoot you. I said no, but he was
still threatening me. The officer said, unfortunately, that qualifies as
being a nuisance, but being a nuisance isn't against the
law or grounds for arrest. My heart dropped on top
(01:00:34):
of that, my property manager said they've been trying to
evict him, but there wasn't enough evidence, and eviction is
a long process. There was nothing they could do. The
officer gave me his card with my case number, informing
me that I should call him if this guy ever
approached me again or if I felt unsafe. I went
(01:00:55):
back to my apartment, stunned and trying to figure out
next steps. I decided not to leave my apartment again
out of safety, but ordered additional self defense items, including
an apartment doorbell camera. Because this guy had been up
close to my receipt bag to know my order number,
and the receipt also had my name, I was worried
(01:01:17):
he would put two and two together and type my
name in the directory outsider building and figure out my
unit number. I couldn't risk running into him again, so
I had to stay locked up until my camera arrived.
Given the information I had about him full name, birthday,
in the fact that he had prior records were related
(01:01:38):
to harassment, I decided to do my own research and
found his public records. To my surprise, I learned that
he actually had six court cases since twenty eighteen, and
the most recent court record was from August twenty twenty four.
His cases had been for stalking, harassment, restraining orders, multiple
(01:02:00):
reissued anti harassment protection orders, domestic violence, and attempting to
get him to surrender his firearms, which he'd refused. Yeah,
so he still owned his guns. Different women had attempted
to serve in protection orders multiple times but failed, either
because he tried to dodge it and never showed up
to court, or just been hard to get hold of.
(01:02:23):
I couldn't believe it. This man is able to freely
move about common spaces in our complex, and management had
never mentioned anything to residence nor regarded our safety. Now
I knew this was more than just an annoying neighbor,
but rather someone who could be dangerous. I was dealing
(01:02:43):
with a man who had unresolved mental health issues, who
may still be in possession of his multiple firearms, and
who was angry with me. Given his history of professional stalking.
I was worried if he saw me too soon again
that he would remember our encounter on me and things
would possibly escalate. A few days had passed and I
(01:03:06):
hadn't left my building, but I noted that my camera
had arrived, so I was trying to arrange for how
I could go to the mailroom, which is in the
building he lives in, and the floor that he's on.
I asked management for footage of our encounter, and after
two days of dragging on the request it seemed like
they were trying to buy time, they finally sent me
(01:03:27):
clips of our encounters in different areas. In one of
the videos, you could see that he followed me into
the garage a bit after I had already gone in,
after he had supposedly pretended to take the elevator. The
clip that freaks me out the most. You could see
ME enter the garage elevator lobby, click the elevator button,
(01:03:47):
then frantically pace back and forth and try leaning my
body against the door before I realized I was running
out of time, and then I ran through the stairwell
A few minutes later the camera I saw him come in,
look at the pressed elevator button, but no one took it.
Then deduced I must have taken the stairwell before following
(01:04:09):
in pursuit if anything, that showed intent. Oddly enough, the
footage when he caught up to me and poked the
receipt on my bag was missing, but management sent the
footage after I ran back to my building. Anyway, A
few days later, around six pm, I was figuring out
how to pick up my mail. I have a married
(01:04:31):
friend who lives in his building three floors above, who
had no idea about any of this, so I asked
if she would be comfortable meeting me on the fourth
floor of her building, where the encounter took place, but
where I'd have to pass in order to go to
the mail room in the main lobby. I took some
deep breaths and got to the end of my hallway,
my friend on the phone the whole time. Then I
(01:04:55):
opened the door to the courtyard hyper vigilantly. I looked
crossed to the conservatory and saw a man there. I squinted, Oh,
it couldn't be. It was indeed him standing in the conservatory.
He locked eyes with me and started mouthing things, smiling,
(01:05:18):
then yelling. I began shaking uncontrollably, crying and quickly ran
back into my building. Now he knew for sure I
lived in the second building. My friend was in the
hallway behind him, so she witnessed everything. As he was yelling,
and was yelling as directed at me. She wasn't with
(01:05:39):
her husband either, but he had locked eyes with me
and was angry. Now there were some people in the
hallway asking if I was okay, but I couldn't speak.
My friend, still on the line, told me to go
back to my apartment and that she would meet me
there with her husband. My friend and her husband came
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up a few moments later, staying with me as I
frantically packed a go bag. We decided it wasn't safe
for me to be alone in my apartment, so I
reached out to another friend who lives elsewhere in the city,
and she said I could crash at her place. My
friend and her husband escorted me through the hallway, me
(01:06:19):
physically breaking down as we neared the elevators, but eventually
they led me to my other friend's car. As I
write this, I'm in the living room of her apartment
for the third day, figuring out my next move. On
my first day at my friend's house, I wrote management
and email again explaining the incident with the resident. Again,
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this is my second day here and still no response
from them. My friend went to management with her husband
to report the incident, since she also witnessed the guy
yelling at me, so it could add to their complaints.
She said management was aware of me and my complaints,
but they couldn't do anything because he is protected under
(01:07:02):
the Fair Housing Act. Management can't deny housing to someone
due to their disability, which includes mental illness for context,
most buildings in my city have MFTE units, basically reduced
rent apartment that are reserved as part of an affordable
housing program. In my city. From what I understand, people
(01:07:24):
can qualify for MFTE housing based on income and sometimes
it's combined with disability protections, which is likely how he's
been able to stay there. So it seems my unit
is worried that if they evict him, he might be
able to sue for a discriminatory eviction. I don't have
a male partner, which seems to be the only deterrent
(01:07:45):
from the resident, So my sister and her husband are
trying to figure out when they can fly in and
help me pack up my place so I can get
out of there. I'm devastated because it's a beautiful complex
with incredible amenities of gorgeous interior and a pretty view,
but all this means nothing when my safety is at risk.
(01:08:07):
I have no plans, but I can't go back to
my unit until I have protection at all times in
that building. Late night pit stop by Sloan. Almost always
(01:08:27):
at family gatherings like holiday meals, stories end up being
told around the table, and this is one that is
frequently requested above our uncle, as it never fails to
get a shudder from all of us. My uncle works
in law enforcement and used to work late nights frequently
patrolling the rural towns in the countryside of Cumberland County.
(01:08:49):
One winter night, around three am, he and another officer
riding with him decided to make a pit stop. Because
of the late hours and lots of coffee. The officer
riding with my uncle decided he needed to make a
restroom stop, but with no restroom to be had, they
decided to just pull over to the side on a
lonely country road so he could do his business in
(01:09:10):
dark seclusion. Usually at this point in the story, my
uncle gets some disapproving looks and groans from those of
us around the table. After finishing up and preparing to leave,
my uncle's partner looked up, glancing up the steep ditch
bank slightly above him to see a woman in a
white nightgown a short distance away, just looking at him.
(01:09:33):
She didn't make any sounds, and he hadn't heard her approach,
so of course he was greatly startled, jumped up and
uttered a word or two in his fright that got
the attention of my uncle, who was smoking a cigarette
on the other side of the car. Both my uncle
and this officer were scared to death, as if something
about that woman seemed very, very wrong. After both of
(01:09:57):
them recovered, they both jumped back in the car, looking
back to where she had stood. Once they were safely inside,
she was gone again without a sound. Obviously concerned and
a little shaken, they looked around for any sign of her.
As they squinted through the darkness out across the field
(01:10:19):
on the other side of the ditch, my uncle could
just barely make out her distant form in the white nightgown,
moving towards a farmhouse some distance away. There were no
lights on in the house, and it looked to be
abandoned and falling apart. Considering the distance. In the few
seconds it took for the two men to enter the car,
(01:10:40):
they realized there was no way that she could have
made it all the way across that large field and
that amount of time, Suddenly getting a chill up as spine.
My uncle shuddered and quickly pulled away from the ditch
and got back onto the road. That's usually where the
story ends, always followed by questions from some of us
about what she looked like. He said she had dark
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hair down past her shoulders and was wearing this long
white nightgown. He said she didn't have any shoes on,
and didn't move or make a sound during the time
that she was near them on that ditch embankment. He said,
they realized as they were driving away that night what
it was about her, that it seemed very wrong, though
neither of them realized it at first. Well, she had
(01:11:28):
no eyes, just dark holes staring bleakly at them through
the dark, and for some reason, this makes me shut her.
Worst of all, even though it was the middle of
winter and below freezing that night, and even though she
was just a short distance away, they couldn't see her breath.
My uncle and his partner both had clouds of white
(01:11:50):
breath fogging out as they breathed, but this woman had
no breath at all. They have no idea who she was,
but I've always wondered about her story. Maybe she was
just checking to see if they meant harm or not
returning to her house once she realized why they had
stopped that night. Hey, gang, thanks for listening to this episode.
(01:12:28):
If you have a true scary story of any nature
that you'd like me to narrate, email it to Uncle
Josh True Scary Stories at gmail dot com. I read
them all and we're at that time of year again.
If you have a true scary Halloween story, please send
it my way starting early this year. Already, I have
(01:12:48):
a couple of stories that have been submitted, so thank
you to those of you who have, but I would
love to have your stories. Looking for a great Halloween
extravaganza this year. If you're catching this on you and
you like what you saw or heard, give the video
a thumbs up, maybe leave a comment let me know
what you thought of the stories. And if you're not
a subscriber, why not be a subscriber to while you're
(01:13:10):
at it. If you'd like to support what I'm doing
a step further, find a link to my Patreon page
and the description. We're consider getting some Uncle Josh and
Campfire Crew merchandise there's a link to my tea public
storefront and the description as well. Everyone be excellent to
each other and until next time, be wary of things
(01:13:31):
that go bump in the night. It could be anything
a ghost, a monster, or the guy next door. I'm
(01:14:07):
I try to get, but it takes you get. Try
to fly, my butt, me my face, just to roll,
if you just to shine, let me stop by it.
(01:14:34):
Stop running, stop time, stop stop riding to tuck my
d stop running to start out My first at the
(01:15:05):
four games have been on the goal No One least
plus day. What about profile though that when I don't
what I'm just trying. Sam running a start for time,
(01:15:33):
said house saturating sun running but juice seeking a bunch
(01:16:01):
of mine. But don't be wasting all your time looking
join The finest line from the journey is the real crime,
I said. The journey is the real prize. The journey
is the real prize. I said, the journey is a
real pride. I said, the journey is