November 4, 2025 • 20 mins
This Tuesday, we explore three unsettling true tales where reality bends in ways it shouldn’t. First, you’ll hear accounts of two places that seem to shift, vanish, or reappear—locations witnesses swear exist one moment and are impossible to find the next. Our final tale takes a darker turn: someone overhears what sounds like a suicide… but the details don’t add up. Was it truly a tragic self-ending, or did they stumble onto something far more sinister? Settle in. On Tuesdays, reality isn’t guaranteed.
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/uncle-joshs-true-scary-stories--1977911/support.
Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/uncle-joshs-true-scary-stories--1977911/support.
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:02):
Hey, capfire crew, let's get it on the Tokyo Pink
Room Lady by a typical dragon context. This is a
(00:29):
real story of probably the weirdest thing I've ever seen.
I was serving a Mormon mission at the time in Tokyo, Japan.
If it weren't for the fact that I experienced it
with another person, I'd probably just think I hallucinated the
whole thing. I'm not a super big believer in the paranormal,
and I don't think that's what happened to here either,
(00:50):
But I have a hard time wrapping my head around
this one story time. This took place about ten yearsyears
ago while I was doing some missionary work in Tokyo, Japan.
I was a Mormon at the time, and as is
custom in the Mormon Church, when I turned eighteen, I
submitted my mission papers and was called to Tokyo. Mormon
(01:14):
missions are two year ordeals where you are assigned to
a random location in the world, told to learn the
language they speak in that area, and tell everyone you
meet about Jesus. While I no longer hold to the
Mormon faith, I'll always be grateful for the adventure that
was my two years in Japan. While you're on a
(01:36):
mission for the church, you follow a strict regiment and
are assigned a companion that is to be your proselytizing
peer during the course of your time in the field.
While in the field, you are assigned to different areas
as the mission presidencies fit. At the time of this story,
I was assigned to the Kichio Yaria in your central Tokyo.
(01:59):
It was early fall and the leaves had just begun
to change color. My companion and I had hit the
streets hard ever since I had transferred into the town.
And it's a beautiful district in Tokyo, and I believe
has won multiple awards for the most desired place to
live in Japan. It's a maze of alley ways and
hole in the wall ramen shops mixed with sprawling parks
(02:21):
and trails to give it a naturally wondrous atmosphere. It
was a small area within our mission, but densely packed.
You could get lost in that place, and that was
the situation we found ourselves. The day we met her,
I was on splits with another companion that day. Basically,
(02:44):
splits is when you swap partners for a day with
another pair of missionaries. My partner that day was an
enemy of mine in the early days of my mission,
but we had resolved our differences and become almost friends
when we set out for Splits. Looking forward to the
change of pace that Splits could provide, we decided to
do something a little different than our normal preaching. On
(03:08):
that day. We decided we would try to find an
inactive member of the Kichioi Congregation, someone who had been
coming to church steadily for a while but then fell
away for one reason or another. All we had on
the person we were trying to find was a name
and an address. The address was located in a town
a few stops down from us on a weird, smaller
(03:30):
train line than we almost never used. Once we arrived
at our stop, immediately the vibes in that region were off.
The normally bright and busy atmosphere of the district had
fallen away and given rise to empty streets and run
down buildings. Nevertheless, we pushed on, as you may expect
(03:52):
of two foreigners, though wandering through a dense city, we
almost immediately became lost. Strange occurrences happened to us as
we tried to write our bearings that I won't go
into too much detail about, but I will list off
just to give a vibe of what this area was like. First,
(04:12):
we talked to a lady from Turkey that owned a
small cafe and claimed that her brother had run off
back to Turkey to settle a blood feud and never return.
She also believed that a giant celestial peacock rules the
world and will one day kill all the unbelievers. Second,
we were startled when a man in full surgery gear
(04:34):
ran out screaming into the streets, covered in blood from
what I believe was some sort of veterinary office. Upon
seeing us, though, he stopped, immediately composed himself turned around
back into the building. Finally, we stopped a somewhat normal
dude who offered to show us the weight of the
(04:54):
building we were looking for. I say somewhat normal because
I swear where the dude was Batman. When we finally
arrived at the place and turned to thank him for
showing us the way there, he had vanished, I mean,
full on Batman style vanish. I don't know. He probably
just walked around a corner super fast or something, but
(05:16):
he was so quiet and quick it was weird, so
with the aid of Batman, we finally arrived at our destination,
which was five concrete apartment buildings covered an ivy and
moss with a rusted chain link fence around it. The
place looked straight out of The Walking Dead, and my
partner and I were somewhat surprised by the state of
(05:37):
the place, even for the general disrepair of the area.
As soon as we walked into the first hallway, though,
we realized we had probably come all that way for nothing.
The light in the hallways of the building were out,
so the only light coming through was from the moss
covered glass that lined one side of the hallway on
each floor. Each door in the hallway the building had
(06:00):
a small window to the left of it, and our
hearts began to sink as we walked past the first few.
Through the windows, we could see that the floorboards in
the walls and almost every room had been ripped out,
and a thick patch of black mold clung to everything
within the building's interior, and at that point we realized
the place was probably condemned. We headed back down the
(06:25):
stairs at the other end of the building, and as
we were descending, we started to hear faint sounds of
classical or instrumental music. We both looked at each other,
neither of us having any idea what the source was.
We descended further. As we reached the bottom, we found
the source of the music. The window of the last
(06:47):
room at the end of our side of the hallway
was open and a light was on inside. We approached,
and to reiterate, we hadn't seen a single soul in
this entire building up to that point, but we were
about to meet the building's only resident, and nothing could
have prepared us for what we saw next. As we
(07:09):
looked through the window, we got a solid view of
the kitchen and everything was pink. I'm talking hot pink,
Barbie pink, Neon flamingo pink. And when I say everything,
I mean everything. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the cabinets,
the countertops, all pink. There was a small radio playing
(07:34):
in the window sill on the source of the music.
There was one thing that stood out from all that pink, however,
A gray metal pole with some tape wrapped on it
in various places stood from ceiling to floor in the
middle of the room, and a small pink stool sat
beside it. The room was spotless, not a speck of
(07:56):
dirt or mold anywhere, despite the next room down from
that one being destroyed like all the rest. At the
far end of the kitchen were some sliding paper doors
that gave a peek into a tatami room, basically a
Japanese style bedroom. In the tatami room, all we could
see were some large stuffed animals piled up. My companion
(08:19):
and I looked warily at each other and briefly discussed
what a truly strange room that was. Then we called
out a hello in Japanese through the window. A few
moments went by and an answer returned in what sounded
like a child's voice, but the words were completely indecipherable
and mumbled. Coming from the other room, We called out again, saying,
(08:44):
we're looking for someone we think used to live here.
Do you know if there was another building everyone was
moved into. Now what we saw next is a bit
hard to fully describe, and I want to be respectful,
as I believe that the person we met was incredible disabled. Nonetheless,
they were very unnerving to meet. Crawling out from behind
(09:07):
the paper doors in a sort of crab walk fashion.
We saw an elderly lady with incredibly thin arms and legs,
a spherical body, and dressed in an oversized T shirt
or niightout of some sort. Her eyes were slightly bulging
from her face and pointed off in opposite directions. I mean,
(09:27):
there was something almost spider like in the way she moved,
and me and my companion were completely flabbergasted. She was
speaking the whole time as she approached the pole in
the middle of the room, though we were only understanding
about every other word, as she had a very mumbled
way of speaking. Her speech style was the type of
(09:49):
a child might use, giving a further unsettling tone to
this encounter. Once she reached the pole in the middle
of the room, she propped herself first onto the stee
and then began to climb her way up the pole.
I have no idea why or how she did that.
I mean, her arms and legs looked so thin, almost
(10:09):
just like skin over bone, Yet somehow she lifted herself
several feet up the pole and then wrapped herself around it.
We were so shocked that I don't think we even
said anything for like half a minute. We just stood
there and might have let out a few nervous chuckles.
Once we regained our composure, we asked our question again
(10:30):
if she knew if everyone had been moved to another building.
She spoke, but it was difficult to understand, even with
over a year of experience speaking to random people every
day in Japanese. This is basically what me and my
companion were able to put together as we spoke with her,
(10:51):
everyone gone, everyone sick, something else about mold, and that
she was the only one left. We wrapped up our
conversation pretty quickly after that. I'm a bit embarrassed to say,
but we were both pretty put off by the sight
of a tiny, elderly Japanese lady wrapped around a pole
in a hot pink room. We left the building at
(11:14):
a pace just shy of a jog, and she was
still speaking in a tangent when we left. We discussed
it with our normal companions that night, and they didn't
believe us, and I don't blame them. I don't think
I would have believed me either. My companion was persistent, however,
about wanting to see the pink room, so we planned
(11:35):
to go walk by the building just to walk by
and see the room the day after the next. This
next part of the story is the only part that
I'm not really sure how to explain. I took my
normal companion with me to the place, and I retraced
our steps through the neighborhood. We passed the cafe in
the vet's office, and finally arrived at the apartments. And
(11:59):
I know for a fact it was them, because they
were very different compared to the rest of the area.
It was the same moss and vines, same rusted chain
link fence, same building with no working lights, same mold
and ripped out interiors, same kitchen windows to the left
of the doors. I took him to the exact spot
(12:20):
the pink room was two days prior, and it was
ripped out and covered in mold. Like everything else. It
didn't look like a demolition crew had come in. It
looked like everything had been ripped up and rotting over,
just like every other room, and every other trace of
pink was now gone. Oh. At that point, I was panicking.
(12:42):
I took my companion up and down every floor and
every building in that complex. It was nothing. It's as
though the pink room never existed. I told my split
companion about it. When I got back and he was
super freaked out. You went looking himself and he didn't
(13:02):
find it either. When I text him every couple of
years to make sure I'm not going crazy, and all
of that really did happen, and he always says how
weird the whole experience was. Neither of us are sure
what happened to the room, but we both know that
it happened. Years later. Looking back on it, I believe
(13:24):
that the pink room lady was probably just an elderly
disabled woman that had some relatives in the area to
clean up and look after her. I feel somewhat ashamed
of the fear I always felt towards her, as I'm
sure she was probably also startled to see two foreigners
standing in her kitchen window. The logical part of me
knows that there must be an answer as to why
(13:46):
the room wasn't there when we went back. I just
haven't found that answer yet. This is by far the
weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life as of yet,
and I reckon I'll be thinking about that pink room
for the rest of my life. A road I knew
(14:11):
well changed by Chunky Boy ninety eight. So this is
going to sound weird, and well, that's because it is.
Apologies for my grammar and punctuation. English is my first language.
I'm just shit at it. I'm sitting here now at
the age of thirty four, thinking about this, and I'm
(14:34):
getting goosebumps because it just makes no sense. I was
about thirteen and grew up in a small village surrounded
by farmland, and there was this road that, for whatever reason,
gave us a weird vibe. It was a one way road,
and it somewhat looked like a tunnel as you headed
onto the road due to the trees creating an archway.
(14:55):
It's important to note that it was wintertime, so it
was dark in the afternoons. We would often dare each
other to walk down it and see how far we
could go, until eventually we had all gotten ourselves about
halfway down that road and had gotten ourselves familiar with
our surroundings. We continued to play there over the next
few days, and we took quite a liking to the spot.
(15:18):
On one of the days, we noticed there was a
really old, rusty gate that was completely stuck in a
load of overgrowth. The gate looked like it would close
off the entire road, and we tried to pull it
out and close it because you know why not, we
were kids, But anyway, we simply couldn't move it. Years
and years of overgrowth had completely entangled it and it
(15:41):
was pretty much just consumed by nature. The next day
we headed down the road for our usual exploration. This
is where it gets really weird. And right as I
type this again, I'm getting goosebumps. The gate was now
closed and in good condition. The bushes weren't there. I mean,
(16:03):
it was really weird. The gate opened and shut with
no issues, and that really unsettled us. So we left.
Now in that particular day, one of our friends had
not come with us, and so we told him about it,
and he didn't believe us. So we said we would
go there with them to show them. And this is
pretty much what fucked me up. We got there and
(16:28):
everything was back to how it was, rusty gates stuck
in a bunch of overgrowth, and me and the guys
that saw it freaked the fuck out and pretty much
never went back. There's been a lot of crazy and
spooky shit that's happened to me, but that gate shit
was really, really weird, especially because it was a few
(16:50):
of us that saw it, and there was no way
a gate in a bush could just magically appear and
then disappear. Suicide Collectors by Anonymous. It was the spring
(17:11):
of nineteen ninety two. I had gotten very ill due
to an undiagnosed depression, having dropped out of Brigham Young
University the previous year and working in minimum wage jobs.
My life was difficult. I was living in a cheap
hotel in the Provo, Utah area, the hotel Roberts. There
(17:33):
was a single room on the third floor with a sink,
small table, and a beat up dresser. There was a
common shower for each floor, and the hotel was a
Spanish Mission style building that had once been an exclusive
hotel in the early twentieth century, but by that time
was now neglected and home to a number living at
the edge of Utah society. I was in my room
(17:55):
one night trying to get to sleep, which is a
hard thing to do in your brain. Chemist isn't quite right.
When an odd thing happened halfway into another feverish evening,
I heard a buzzing sound than voices of two male individuals.
I could point in the direction the voices were coming
from yet it wasn't auditory. It was as if I
(18:18):
heard them with my mind and not my ears. One
said to the other, I've never seen anyone hang on
so long, and the other voice said yes. I may
have dismissed my experience as some manifestation of my poor
mental condition if it weren't for what happened the next morning.
(18:40):
It was a couple hours after sunrise when I heard
this is the police open the door. Then I heard
the sound of the door of the room next to
me being kicked in. There were no more loud noises,
just the muffled sound of the police talking amongst themselves.
A few hours later, I found out that the occupant
(19:01):
of the room next to mine had committed suicide. It's
been over thirty years since this happened, and all I
can say is as I sleep well and I've got
a good job as a software engineer in Boise, Idaho.
(19:32):
Hey gang, thanks for listening to this episode. 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 and I read them all.
If you like what you've heard and Seen and you're
catching this on YouTube. Get the video of thumbs up,
(19:52):
leave a comment. I'd like to know what you thought
of the stories. And if you're not a subscriber, hey
why not subscribe? Tell a friend about the channel. All
that stuff does help out with the algorithms. Follow me
on social media, and if you'd like to take a
step further in supporting what I'm doing, find a link
in the description of my Patreon page and consider getting
(20:13):
yourself some Uncle Josh and Campfire Crew merchandise. A link
to my tea public storefront is in the description as well.
Everyone be excellent to 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 a
(20:33):
guy next door.
Hey, capfire crew, let's get it on the Tokyo Pink
Room Lady by a typical dragon context. This is a
(00:29):
real story of probably the weirdest thing I've ever seen.
I was serving a Mormon mission at the time in Tokyo, Japan.
If it weren't for the fact that I experienced it
with another person, I'd probably just think I hallucinated the
whole thing. I'm not a super big believer in the paranormal,
and I don't think that's what happened to here either,
(00:50):
But I have a hard time wrapping my head around
this one story time. This took place about ten yearsyears
ago while I was doing some missionary work in Tokyo, Japan.
I was a Mormon at the time, and as is
custom in the Mormon Church, when I turned eighteen, I
submitted my mission papers and was called to Tokyo. Mormon
(01:14):
missions are two year ordeals where you are assigned to
a random location in the world, told to learn the
language they speak in that area, and tell everyone you
meet about Jesus. While I no longer hold to the
Mormon faith, I'll always be grateful for the adventure that
was my two years in Japan. While you're on a
(01:36):
mission for the church, you follow a strict regiment and
are assigned a companion that is to be your proselytizing
peer during the course of your time in the field.
While in the field, you are assigned to different areas
as the mission presidencies fit. At the time of this story,
I was assigned to the Kichio Yaria in your central Tokyo.
(01:59):
It was early fall and the leaves had just begun
to change color. My companion and I had hit the
streets hard ever since I had transferred into the town.
And it's a beautiful district in Tokyo, and I believe
has won multiple awards for the most desired place to
live in Japan. It's a maze of alley ways and
hole in the wall ramen shops mixed with sprawling parks
(02:21):
and trails to give it a naturally wondrous atmosphere. It
was a small area within our mission, but densely packed.
You could get lost in that place, and that was
the situation we found ourselves. The day we met her,
I was on splits with another companion that day. Basically,
(02:44):
splits is when you swap partners for a day with
another pair of missionaries. My partner that day was an
enemy of mine in the early days of my mission,
but we had resolved our differences and become almost friends
when we set out for Splits. Looking forward to the
change of pace that Splits could provide, we decided to
do something a little different than our normal preaching. On
(03:08):
that day. We decided we would try to find an
inactive member of the Kichioi Congregation, someone who had been
coming to church steadily for a while but then fell
away for one reason or another. All we had on
the person we were trying to find was a name
and an address. The address was located in a town
a few stops down from us on a weird, smaller
(03:30):
train line than we almost never used. Once we arrived
at our stop, immediately the vibes in that region were off.
The normally bright and busy atmosphere of the district had
fallen away and given rise to empty streets and run
down buildings. Nevertheless, we pushed on, as you may expect
(03:52):
of two foreigners, though wandering through a dense city, we
almost immediately became lost. Strange occurrences happened to us as
we tried to write our bearings that I won't go
into too much detail about, but I will list off
just to give a vibe of what this area was like. First,
(04:12):
we talked to a lady from Turkey that owned a
small cafe and claimed that her brother had run off
back to Turkey to settle a blood feud and never return.
She also believed that a giant celestial peacock rules the
world and will one day kill all the unbelievers. Second,
we were startled when a man in full surgery gear
(04:34):
ran out screaming into the streets, covered in blood from
what I believe was some sort of veterinary office. Upon
seeing us, though, he stopped, immediately composed himself turned around
back into the building. Finally, we stopped a somewhat normal
dude who offered to show us the weight of the
(04:54):
building we were looking for. I say somewhat normal because
I swear where the dude was Batman. When we finally
arrived at the place and turned to thank him for
showing us the way there, he had vanished, I mean,
full on Batman style vanish. I don't know. He probably
just walked around a corner super fast or something, but
(05:16):
he was so quiet and quick it was weird, so
with the aid of Batman, we finally arrived at our destination,
which was five concrete apartment buildings covered an ivy and
moss with a rusted chain link fence around it. The
place looked straight out of The Walking Dead, and my
partner and I were somewhat surprised by the state of
(05:37):
the place, even for the general disrepair of the area.
As soon as we walked into the first hallway, though,
we realized we had probably come all that way for nothing.
The light in the hallways of the building were out,
so the only light coming through was from the moss
covered glass that lined one side of the hallway on
each floor. Each door in the hallway the building had
(06:00):
a small window to the left of it, and our
hearts began to sink as we walked past the first few.
Through the windows, we could see that the floorboards in
the walls and almost every room had been ripped out,
and a thick patch of black mold clung to everything
within the building's interior, and at that point we realized
the place was probably condemned. We headed back down the
(06:25):
stairs at the other end of the building, and as
we were descending, we started to hear faint sounds of
classical or instrumental music. We both looked at each other,
neither of us having any idea what the source was.
We descended further. As we reached the bottom, we found
the source of the music. The window of the last
(06:47):
room at the end of our side of the hallway
was open and a light was on inside. We approached,
and to reiterate, we hadn't seen a single soul in
this entire building up to that point, but we were
about to meet the building's only resident, and nothing could
have prepared us for what we saw next. As we
(07:09):
looked through the window, we got a solid view of
the kitchen and everything was pink. I'm talking hot pink,
Barbie pink, Neon flamingo pink. And when I say everything,
I mean everything. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, the cabinets,
the countertops, all pink. There was a small radio playing
(07:34):
in the window sill on the source of the music.
There was one thing that stood out from all that pink, however,
A gray metal pole with some tape wrapped on it
in various places stood from ceiling to floor in the
middle of the room, and a small pink stool sat
beside it. The room was spotless, not a speck of
(07:56):
dirt or mold anywhere, despite the next room down from
that one being destroyed like all the rest. At the
far end of the kitchen were some sliding paper doors
that gave a peek into a tatami room, basically a
Japanese style bedroom. In the tatami room, all we could
see were some large stuffed animals piled up. My companion
(08:19):
and I looked warily at each other and briefly discussed
what a truly strange room that was. Then we called
out a hello in Japanese through the window. A few
moments went by and an answer returned in what sounded
like a child's voice, but the words were completely indecipherable
and mumbled. Coming from the other room, We called out again, saying,
(08:44):
we're looking for someone we think used to live here.
Do you know if there was another building everyone was
moved into. Now what we saw next is a bit
hard to fully describe, and I want to be respectful,
as I believe that the person we met was incredible disabled. Nonetheless,
they were very unnerving to meet. Crawling out from behind
(09:07):
the paper doors in a sort of crab walk fashion.
We saw an elderly lady with incredibly thin arms and legs,
a spherical body, and dressed in an oversized T shirt
or niightout of some sort. Her eyes were slightly bulging
from her face and pointed off in opposite directions. I mean,
(09:27):
there was something almost spider like in the way she moved,
and me and my companion were completely flabbergasted. She was
speaking the whole time as she approached the pole in
the middle of the room, though we were only understanding
about every other word, as she had a very mumbled
way of speaking. Her speech style was the type of
(09:49):
a child might use, giving a further unsettling tone to
this encounter. Once she reached the pole in the middle
of the room, she propped herself first onto the stee
and then began to climb her way up the pole.
I have no idea why or how she did that.
I mean, her arms and legs looked so thin, almost
(10:09):
just like skin over bone, Yet somehow she lifted herself
several feet up the pole and then wrapped herself around it.
We were so shocked that I don't think we even
said anything for like half a minute. We just stood
there and might have let out a few nervous chuckles.
Once we regained our composure, we asked our question again
(10:30):
if she knew if everyone had been moved to another building.
She spoke, but it was difficult to understand, even with
over a year of experience speaking to random people every
day in Japanese. This is basically what me and my
companion were able to put together as we spoke with her,
(10:51):
everyone gone, everyone sick, something else about mold, and that
she was the only one left. We wrapped up our
conversation pretty quickly after that. I'm a bit embarrassed to say,
but we were both pretty put off by the sight
of a tiny, elderly Japanese lady wrapped around a pole
in a hot pink room. We left the building at
(11:14):
a pace just shy of a jog, and she was
still speaking in a tangent when we left. We discussed
it with our normal companions that night, and they didn't
believe us, and I don't blame them. I don't think
I would have believed me either. My companion was persistent, however,
about wanting to see the pink room, so we planned
(11:35):
to go walk by the building just to walk by
and see the room the day after the next. This
next part of the story is the only part that
I'm not really sure how to explain. I took my
normal companion with me to the place, and I retraced
our steps through the neighborhood. We passed the cafe in
the vet's office, and finally arrived at the apartments. And
(11:59):
I know for a fact it was them, because they
were very different compared to the rest of the area.
It was the same moss and vines, same rusted chain
link fence, same building with no working lights, same mold
and ripped out interiors, same kitchen windows to the left
of the doors. I took him to the exact spot
(12:20):
the pink room was two days prior, and it was
ripped out and covered in mold. Like everything else. It
didn't look like a demolition crew had come in. It
looked like everything had been ripped up and rotting over,
just like every other room, and every other trace of
pink was now gone. Oh. At that point, I was panicking.
(12:42):
I took my companion up and down every floor and
every building in that complex. It was nothing. It's as
though the pink room never existed. I told my split
companion about it. When I got back and he was
super freaked out. You went looking himself and he didn't
(13:02):
find it either. When I text him every couple of
years to make sure I'm not going crazy, and all
of that really did happen, and he always says how
weird the whole experience was. Neither of us are sure
what happened to the room, but we both know that
it happened. Years later. Looking back on it, I believe
(13:24):
that the pink room lady was probably just an elderly
disabled woman that had some relatives in the area to
clean up and look after her. I feel somewhat ashamed
of the fear I always felt towards her, as I'm
sure she was probably also startled to see two foreigners
standing in her kitchen window. The logical part of me
knows that there must be an answer as to why
(13:46):
the room wasn't there when we went back. I just
haven't found that answer yet. This is by far the
weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life as of yet,
and I reckon I'll be thinking about that pink room
for the rest of my life. A road I knew
(14:11):
well changed by Chunky Boy ninety eight. So this is
going to sound weird, and well, that's because it is.
Apologies for my grammar and punctuation. English is my first language.
I'm just shit at it. I'm sitting here now at
the age of thirty four, thinking about this, and I'm
(14:34):
getting goosebumps because it just makes no sense. I was
about thirteen and grew up in a small village surrounded
by farmland, and there was this road that, for whatever reason,
gave us a weird vibe. It was a one way road,
and it somewhat looked like a tunnel as you headed
onto the road due to the trees creating an archway.
(14:55):
It's important to note that it was wintertime, so it
was dark in the afternoons. We would often dare each
other to walk down it and see how far we
could go, until eventually we had all gotten ourselves about
halfway down that road and had gotten ourselves familiar with
our surroundings. We continued to play there over the next
few days, and we took quite a liking to the spot.
(15:18):
On one of the days, we noticed there was a
really old, rusty gate that was completely stuck in a
load of overgrowth. The gate looked like it would close
off the entire road, and we tried to pull it
out and close it because you know why not, we
were kids, But anyway, we simply couldn't move it. Years
and years of overgrowth had completely entangled it and it
(15:41):
was pretty much just consumed by nature. The next day
we headed down the road for our usual exploration. This
is where it gets really weird. And right as I
type this again, I'm getting goosebumps. The gate was now
closed and in good condition. The bushes weren't there. I mean,
(16:03):
it was really weird. The gate opened and shut with
no issues, and that really unsettled us. So we left.
Now in that particular day, one of our friends had
not come with us, and so we told him about it,
and he didn't believe us. So we said we would
go there with them to show them. And this is
pretty much what fucked me up. We got there and
(16:28):
everything was back to how it was, rusty gates stuck
in a bunch of overgrowth, and me and the guys
that saw it freaked the fuck out and pretty much
never went back. There's been a lot of crazy and
spooky shit that's happened to me, but that gate shit
was really, really weird, especially because it was a few
(16:50):
of us that saw it, and there was no way
a gate in a bush could just magically appear and
then disappear. Suicide Collectors by Anonymous. It was the spring
(17:11):
of nineteen ninety two. I had gotten very ill due
to an undiagnosed depression, having dropped out of Brigham Young
University the previous year and working in minimum wage jobs.
My life was difficult. I was living in a cheap
hotel in the Provo, Utah area, the hotel Roberts. There
(17:33):
was a single room on the third floor with a sink,
small table, and a beat up dresser. There was a
common shower for each floor, and the hotel was a
Spanish Mission style building that had once been an exclusive
hotel in the early twentieth century, but by that time
was now neglected and home to a number living at
the edge of Utah society. I was in my room
(17:55):
one night trying to get to sleep, which is a
hard thing to do in your brain. Chemist isn't quite right.
When an odd thing happened halfway into another feverish evening,
I heard a buzzing sound than voices of two male individuals.
I could point in the direction the voices were coming
from yet it wasn't auditory. It was as if I
(18:18):
heard them with my mind and not my ears. One
said to the other, I've never seen anyone hang on
so long, and the other voice said yes. I may
have dismissed my experience as some manifestation of my poor
mental condition if it weren't for what happened the next morning.
(18:40):
It was a couple hours after sunrise when I heard
this is the police open the door. Then I heard
the sound of the door of the room next to
me being kicked in. There were no more loud noises,
just the muffled sound of the police talking amongst themselves.
A few hours later, I found out that the occupant
(19:01):
of the room next to mine had committed suicide. It's
been over thirty years since this happened, and all I
can say is as I sleep well and I've got
a good job as a software engineer in Boise, Idaho.
(19:32):
Hey gang, thanks for listening to this episode. 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 and I read them all.
If you like what you've heard and Seen and you're
catching this on YouTube. Get the video of thumbs up,
(19:52):
leave a comment. I'd like to know what you thought
of the stories. And if you're not a subscriber, hey
why not subscribe? Tell a friend about the channel. All
that stuff does help out with the algorithms. Follow me
on social media, and if you'd like to take a
step further in supporting what I'm doing, find a link
in the description of my Patreon page and consider getting
(20:13):
yourself some Uncle Josh and Campfire Crew merchandise. A link
to my tea public storefront is in the description as well.
Everyone be excellent to 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 a
(20:33):
guy next door.
Popular Podcasts
Las Culturistas with Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang
Ding dong! Join your culture consultants, Matt Rogers and Bowen Yang, on an unforgettable journey into the beating heart of CULTURE. Alongside sizzling special guests, they GET INTO the hottest pop-culture moments of the day and the formative cultural experiences that turned them into Culturistas. Produced by the Big Money Players Network and iHeartRadio.
Crime Junkie
Does hearing about a true crime case always leave you scouring the internet for the truth behind the story? Dive into your next mystery with Crime Junkie. Every Monday, join your host Ashley Flowers as she unravels all the details of infamous and underreported true crime cases with her best friend Brit Prawat. From cold cases to missing persons and heroes in our community who seek justice, Crime Junkie is your destination for theories and stories you won’t hear anywhere else. Whether you're a seasoned true crime enthusiast or new to the genre, you'll find yourself on the edge of your seat awaiting a new episode every Monday. If you can never get enough true crime... Congratulations, you’ve found your people. Follow to join a community of Crime Junkies! Crime Junkie is presented by audiochuck Media Company.
Stuff You Should Know
If you've ever wanted to know about champagne, satanism, the Stonewall Uprising, chaos theory, LSD, El Nino, true crime and Rosa Parks, then look no further. Josh and Chuck have you covered.