Thought Catalog
January 3, 2017

50 Truly Terrifying Creepy Stories That’ll Scare You Into Perpetual Insomnia

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21. Business professional man lunges at me while walking my dog

A little background story: I’m a 20 year old female college student, living in a city in the south that’s known for its high crime rate. However, this didn’t stop me from taking my dog out on long walks every day, although everyone always advised me not to.

This incident happened about one week after we had gotten the news that a fellow college student had been kidnapped (and later released thank god). I wasn’t worried though because I’m pretty street smart, and a former MMA fighter (however, at 5’4″ and 110 lbs I didn’t really look too intimidating).

Anyways, so this day was like any other. My adorable dog and I went on our usual walk. I walk down a one-way street, when I noticed a car coming around the corner and down the street I was walking in. What was so unusual about this car, was that it had pitch black Windows. I mean you couldn’t see inside whatsoever, and I know the laws for tinted windows are pretty strict in my state so this was very strange to me.

I noticed the car started to slow down when it reached me. I was already starting to feel creepy vibes, so I paused and let my dog sniff somewhere in hopes the car would pass me quickly. But it didn’t. It almost came to a halt and I turned around and went down that one-way street the opposite way, thinking that the car would have to continue to drive down the other way. What happened next sent me shivers down my spine. Instead of driving further down the road, the car actually went in REVERSE and continued to follow me (there was no other car on the road at that time). I kept walking faster and faster, until the car stopped. What happened next still gives me the creeps to this day.

I saw the car door open, and out jumped a young man in his mid-twenties, wearing a nice suit but looking like he was possessed or on drugs or something. The look he gave me was so cold and dark that I will never forget it. He lunged at me, grabs my left wrist and tries to pull me into his car. At first I stood frozen. I wanted to scream but could produce no sounds. Then my fight instinct kicked in and I manage to upper cut him right in the face with my right hand, I can feel his nose breaking.

He let go of my wrist and just stood there, baffled, seemingly not knowing what to do. I stand there too, staring at him, trying to get myself to run. At this moment, another car turned around the corner, and the guy jumps back into his car and speeds off.

Together, my puppy and I run down the street and I immediately call my boyfriend the tell him what happened and speed back to my house.

I’m still super anxious whenever I take my dog out on a walk and shudder at every car that passes me.

— Aikooz

22. He promised to stab me

This happened to me 2 days ago, and I count myself very lucky. I live in a small city in Northern Ireland and take the train to work in a larger city roughly 10 minutes taking the express line. That morning I was 5 minutes into my 15 minute walk from the train station to work when as I finished crossing the road an older gentleman caught my eye, as I thought I had recognised him. Very quickly it became apparent that I had never met this man in my life, so I turned around and carried on walking.

Something made me look back around in time to see this old man, who must have been in his early 60s, running back towards me. Naturally, I swapped the hand my phone was in with my left and held it tightly to my side and he grabbed hold of my arm and twisted me to face him again. Then he just stood there, staring at me, for what felt like an eternity but must have only been 30 or 40 seconds, as I pulled away slightly and told him I had to go to work. His hazel eyes were blown wide so he must have been on something, though there was no smell to him and his gaze was remarkably direct.

That’s when he held my arm tighter, leaned in towards me, and and whispered “You’re very fucking lucky. Next time? It’ll be this knife,” as he shifted his hand in his pocket, “and you’ll be more than a little late for work.”

I kind of froze but became remarkably clear thinking and yelled as loudly as I could “Go ahead!” The other commuters noticed this and I managed to pull away as he pulled his hand from his pocket holding something that I didn’t wait around to see. Looking back, that could have ended very badly, as I’m a 5’6″ 110lb woman encouraging a man to stab me, but it seemed at the time the best course of action. Once I got to work I called the police and have given a statement

— AnonymousKhaleesi

23. Tape recorder in the forest

At the time, I was 10 years old and lived in a small coastal town in Newfoundland that was littered with large forests. Almost every house had acres acres of forestry behind it, which in itself, was very beautiful. As I now am 21 and live in a bustling city in Alberta, I do find myself missing this setting in my old backyard every once in a while. But it’s usually accompanied by the unsettling memory of what I’m about to recount.

By the time I was in Grade 4, I was already trusted to be home by myself as my mother went out to visit my grandmother and aunt, who literally lived a few minutes down the road from us. I was happy to have such a privilege. I was an only child and my father worked in another province months at a time, so I was very lucky to have this opportunity. It usually meant late night movies and video gaming, and on the odd night, exploring the forests. This night I was exploring said woods.

I usually never went too far in, usually up to a large rock formation I liked to climb and look out through the trees in all direction. The house was always in sight so I never felt scared or frightened by being there. It felt like my own private place that I could enjoy.

So as I was scaling the rocks to sit in my usual spot, I suddenly started hearing a sound from further in, a sound that wasn’t natural at all. Crying, faint crying. It sounded like a child, maybe even an infant, crying relentlessly. I was more puzzled than scared since crying was the last thing I would expect to hear in the forest. I must have listened for a good few minutes, convinced my ears were playing tricks on me, but it was in fact crying.

In my mind, I imagined it was a young girl that somehow wandered too far into the forest and needed help. I considered going back to the house and calling my mother to help, but then I worried that the girl would wander further in beyond earshot. I decided to try to locate the sound myself.

I made my way hastily through the trees and branches, trying to figure out the exact direction the crying was in. It definitely wasn’t easy as I thought, and it was a matter of trial and error to even make sure I was going in the right direction. One thing I never realized as I was doing all of this was how consistent this crying was. No pauses, no words of anykind. Just nonstop sobbing and wailing that had no end. What I did notice was that the closer I got to the sound, the more “metallic” it sounded to me.

I eventually reached a small clearing that had only a few small trees and bushes and nothing else. I had never gone this far in before, so this was the first time I had ever seen it. When I made my way in, it didn’t take long for me to find the source of the sound.

A grey tape recorder, one of the biggest I had ever seen, was peeking out of one of the bushes, and the crying was coming out of the speakers. This really disturbed me, as I had went all this way expecting to find a real person. But it was only a tape recorder?

As I was about to shut it off, I heard another sound coming from just outside the clearing on the opposite side. It sounded like steady steps, advancing in my direction. It only took seeing a tall shadowy figure coming my way to send me running. Fortunately, by some miracle I recognized my way back by identifying rocks and trees I identified as landmarks. Looking back, this probably saved my life. I never looked back, and I didn’t try listening to see if that person was following me. I just kept telling myself to make it home and nothing else. I had to get home.

Once I saw the large rock formation, it didn’t take me long to know the rest of the way without needing to survey my surroundings. I was out of the forest in record time and immediately ran into my house, locking the door and shutting all of the lights off as I went to my bedroom. I didn’t want this person to know where I lived, or I would really be done for.

After shutting the curtains of my window, I peeked out through them as discreetly as I could to see if whoever had been out there had actually managed to keep up with me. I didn’t see anyone, but I stayed by that window for a good hour, waiting for something to emerge out of the forest’s shadows. But nothing ever did. After that, I want straight to bed. I never did tell my mother about what happened that night, and I also never was able to go back into that forest again.

— NeonEmera

24. Man tried to take my little sister to “see his puppy”

This happened when I was 4 or 5 years old. I was at a rather large toy store with my dad and sister, who is two years older than me, so that I could pick out a birthday present for a friend of mine. My dad and I were looking at the LEGO they had available, while my sister was shuffling around, bored out of her mind. At some point she wandered away.

I was looking at the box of a castle set, wishing that it was my birthday coming up, when my sister returned and tugged on my dad’s arm. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked without looking away from the box he was holding. I think he also wished it was his birthday coming up. “There’s a man- oh never mind, he’s gone now.” My dad looked at her, putting the box back on the shelf. “What man?” He asked. “There was a man who asked if I wanted to come see his puppy, and I said that I’d have to ask you first, but I don’t know where he went.” My dad took the box out of my hands and put it back on the shelf, then took my hand in his and put his other hand around my sister’s shoulders. “Well, let’s go find him!” My dad exclaimed, and began leading us toward the checkouts/exit.

Now like I said, this toy store was rather large, and we were walking very fast. When we got near the checkouts, my sister pointed at a man who was just about to leave the store and said “That’s him!” I could see how she recognized him from behind, as he had very long hair. It went halfway down his back. I remember him having a black winter coat on, which was strange because it was a pretty warm day. We walked even faster until we were at the nearest checkout, and my dad said to us “Stay here with this nice lady for a sec,” referring to the cashier. He then ran up behind the man, who was now almost out the door, and threw his hand on his shoulder so hard I could hear it. My dad spun him around to face him, then began yelling. “WHERE’S THE PUPPY?! WHERE’S THIS PUPPY YOU WANTED TO SHOW MY DAUGHTER?!”

People around started looking over at the commotion, and my dad continued. “YOU WANTED TO TAKE MY DAUGHTER TO SEE YOUR PUPPY! WHERE IS IT?! I WANT TO SEE THE PUPPY TOO!” The man was stammering and stuttering, and trying to get away, but my dad had a firm grasp on the guy’s shoulder. Turning his head to where we were standing, my dad yelled to my sister “IS THIS THE GUY WHO ASKED YOU TO COME SEE HIS PUPPY?!” My sister silently nodded her head, then looked at her shoes. I think she thought she was in trouble. I didn’t blame her, our dad was yelling really loudly. “IS THE PUPPY IN YOUR CAR?! WHERE’S YOUR CAR?! IS THAT IT OVER THERE?!” He pointed out the glass door into the parking lot. “OR IS THAT YOUR CAR?! IS THAT WHERE THE PUPPY YOU WANTED TO SHOW MY SIX YEAR OLD DAUGHTER IS?!” I remember thinking that if he just let go of the guy, he could lead us to the puppy.

Before I knew it, three men in yellow jackets had come. There was a word on their jackets, which I couldn’t read, though I knew all of the letters. S-E-C-U-R-I-T-Y. My dad let go of the man, and the yellow fellows held him instead. My sister was crying by this point. My dad walked back to us, once again taking my hand in one of his own, and putting the other around my sister’s shoulders. He asked the cashier if she had a phone he could use, and she took us to the office. He called our mom to come pick us up, then assured my sister that she was not in trouble. In fact, she was in the least amount of trouble anyone has ever been in in the history of the world, simply by coming and asking for his permission to see the puppy. I asked him if we were still going to see it, and he just looked at me and said “Sorry son. The puppy ran away.”

Our mom came in just a few minutes, and as we were leaving there were police cars pulling up. “Are they going to help find the puppy?” my sister asked my mom, but she said “No, they’re here for something else.”

The other day, after reading through a lot of the stories here, I remembered this incident and asked my dad about it. Apparently when the cops searched his car, they found rope, duct tape, a knife, pliers, and a hacksaw. At the guy’s apartment they found a whole shitload of child porn. My dad and sister testified at his trial, and the guy got 20 years. Which means, barring other circumstances, he’s out now. (I also asked my dad if my sister knows about the stuff in his car. He said no, and to keep it that way.)

— unowhut

25. Burglar pretends to be telephone guy

The year was 1995 and I was 16 years old. I lived in a 3 bedroom, 2 bath house in a middle-class suburban community with my mother, two younger brothers, and our 140 pound doberman, Turbo. From the front door of our house (relevant), you could see directly into our living room which had an open concept floorplan with the kitchen and dining room. Our couch was on the wall directly in front of the front door.

It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years in high school. My brothers and I spent a decent amount of time outdoors because this was back when people still did that. I suppose anyone paying attention knew who lived in our house. And I suppose they knew that the only adult was gone when the only car was gone. However, prior to the man showing up at the house, I’d never noticed anything off, and I never noticed anything afterwards, so maybe we were just a random target.

It was a Saturday and Mom and the boys had run to the grocery store. In Nevada in the 90s, almost no one had air condoning, so to cool off, you would open all the windows and doors and use fans. On this particular day, I had the back sliding door and front door wide open to get a cross breeze. Neither screen door was locked. I was napping on the couch in full view of the front door in shorts and a tank top. With unlocked doors. It’s good we gain intelligence with age. In my defense, there was 140 pounds of protective dog muscle on the floor next to me, and probably only for that reason am I alive.

Around the approximate time I expected my family home from the store, Turbo began barking. Assuming he was barking their arrival, I told him to shush and tried to go back to sleep. Turbo, God bless his sweet protective soul, continued to bark, becoming more and more intense and even aggressive with his barking. Finally, after 5-10 minutes or Turbo refusing to quiet and my family never coming in from the car, I sat up, realizing something was wrong. A man who I didn’t know stood, seemingly frozen, staring at my frenzied and barking Doberman.

Assuming that the man had some appropriate business at my home, I hurried the 10 steps to the UNLOCKED screen door, constantly shushing Turbo. I apologized for my dog and for not hearing his knock (he never knocked). The man explained that he was from the phone company and he was here to check our lines. He never took his eyes off Turbo. Turbo never stopped snarling.

I leaned forward far enough to see the street. Only unmarked, privately owned cars lined the streets. I looked at the man who was dressed in tennis shoes, jeans, and a t-shirt. I was 16 and dumb enough to nap in front of an unlocked door, but I was no fool. Phone company personnel a) always wear uniforms, b) always drive company vehicles, c) don’t come without being called, and d) don’t work weekends!

I looked at the man, who had yet to look up from the 140 pound dog that was now foaming at the mouth. I grasped the screen door handle and held it. This got his attention. He met my eyes as I said, “You have 30 seconds to show me identification, or I open this door.” I don’t even think he made an incoherent excuse as he ran away.

I fell to my knees and hugged Turbo; I then gave him all the meat in the fridge. I believe with absolute certainty that I would have been attacked if we hadn’t had him. I like to think that if I hadn’t had a huge, overly – protective dog I would have been in the habit of locking doors, but what would a screen door latch do against an intruder? And, that creep stood there and watched me for 5-10 minutes. Perhaps he was paralyzed in fear. But, maybe he was working his angles and only Turbo’s insistent display of his willingness to kill anyone who threatened me changed his mind. That’s my theory.

Turbo has long passed, but his legacy lives on. And two loving, loyal, and lethal (when necessary) dogs sleep in my room every night.

— scienceforbid

26. Creepy stranger kept breaking into my dorm room over and over again

I’m going to start off with a little bit of background information because it’ll (hopefully) make it a bit easier to follow along with this whole mess.

I’m a 21 year old female attending a small liberal arts university. My school only has one hall designed as a traditional dorm and it is reserved for freshmen. The rest of the dorms are designed as suites, most containing three double bedrooms, one bathroom, a common room and a kitchen. My particular dorm was one of two that offers four private rooms, two bathrooms, a common room and a kitchen.

I should probably mention that my particular building required your school ID to get into the front building, a key for your suite and an additional key for your personal room. The suite doors locked automatically, but we were the lucky winners of the room that didn’t always lock on it’s on. Since we live on such a small campus we never really saw it as a risk. We were familiar with most of the people in our building and, for the rooms we weren’t familiar with, our friendly RAs we’re kind enough to put all of our names and room letters on decorations posted to the front of our suite doors.

For future reference, my friends will be known as Lina, Molly and Sarah. Their boyfriends will be known as Josh, Adam and Mark.

This all started around the beginning of February of my junior year, so about 10 months ago. I lived with three of my closest friends. All three of them had boyfriends, and at the time I was still single, so I spent a lot of time alone.

As I previously mentioned, I had my own bedroom. My friends’ rooms were no more than a couple steps away, being that we all still lived in the same suite, but at night, while they were all tucked in tight with their men and I was alone in my bedroom, it wasn’t uncommon for me to freak myself out.

The first night he came, I had been up late studying for a Spanish test. Around 2:35 I unplugged the lights that hung from my ceiling, got undressed, took off my glasses and laid down. It wasn’t uncommon for me to be up at this hour because I had been suffering from severe insomnia brought on by chronic nightmares, so it is likely I would’ve been awake even if I hadn’t been studying. What is uncommon is that this night, of all nights, I decided to sleep naked. I never did this because I was always freezing, but for some reason I guess I was hot.

At exactly 2:44 AM I heard the door in our common room open. Our door made a decently loud squeaking sound every time someone opened it, so it was easily distinguishable. I thought this was odd because none of my suite mates were ever up that late. Lina and Josh were asleep in the room directly next to mine. Molly and Adam were asleep in her room at the opposite side of the suite. I knew for a fact that Sarah and Mark went to sleep in his room in another building for the night.

As I was laying in my bed facing the wall, I told myself not to freak out. It was probably just one of my friends either leaving or going after arguing with their boyfriend. As much as I wanted to believe this, I could feel that there was something off. About two minutes passed, and that’s when I saw the reflection of a flashlight on my ceiling. It was coming from underneath my door. A little more anxious at this point, I again convinced myself that it was one of my friends. Someone began to slowly turn the handle of my door. Whoever was at my door was obviously unaware that my door was uneven, so every time it was opened it would swing completely open.

At this point my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I did not want to leave my position of staring at the wall to see who it was, but I knew I had to. I propped myself up, careful to make sure my blanket stayed covering my naked body, and saw a man standing in my doorway. He was shining a flashlight directly onto me. I’m nearly blind without my glasses anyway, so I could not make out specific features in the dark. All I could tell was that this guy was decently tall and was wearing sweatpants, a hat covered by his hoodie and a backpack.

We stared at each other for about 30 seconds until he literally turned around and started sprinting away. As soon as he was gone I darted out of bed, put on clothes and my glasses and ran into the hallway. He was definitely nowhere in sight but I went back into the suite and locked the door. I attempted to wake up Molly and Adam, but she’s a bit of an ass when someone wakes her up so she shooed me out of her room. I obviously didn’t sleep the rest of the night and reported the incident to campus safety in the morning.

The main security officer asked me to recall the details of the night and told me he would file a report. He said that it was most likely someone who entered the wrong room and that the guy was just as freaked out as I was. I wanted to believe that because it was a lot less creepy, but I knew that I couldn’t because all of our names are on the suite door. He knew exactly where he was going and who he was looking for.

Nothing happened for about a month. The next occurrence came around the same time of the morning, but this time it was a flashlight outside of my window. I tried to stay out of view and the light went away fairly quickly. I tried to let this one go because I didn’t want to think about what might’ve really been happening.

I told a friend of mine about the flashlight the next morning. She lives on the same floor as I do but in the building next to mine. She freaked out when I told her about what happened. In the moments before the flashlight appeared in my window, she happened to look out her window. She made eye contact with a man, holding out the flashlight on his phone, as he was walking toward my window. He darted away when they made eye contact and it was too dark for her to see where he ended up.

Two weeks later, on a Saturday, my dad called and asked me to go to dinner. I go to school out of state but my dad does a good portion of his business in my school’s state. When I got back to the room that night my friends had already left and gone across campus to a party. The plan had been for me to meet them there once I was back from dinner and done getting ready. They were at the party of a guy I was talking to at the time, who later became my boyfriend, which comes into play later.

As I’m getting ready, alone in the room, someone begins violently pulling on our suite door. Still creeped out by the previous occurrences I cautiously walked to the door and looked through the peephole. Surprise, surprise, it was covered. The guys across the hall heard the commotion and chased whoever it was out of the building. Behind our dorm is a wooded area and the guys lost him at the entrance. By now I’m already on the phone with my friends and we’re all in a panic. One of the guys across the hall drove me to the other side of campus to be with my friends so that I didn’t have to walk alone. We were all freaked out but let it go for the time being.

Nothing happened for a couple of weeks after that. Fast forward through spring break. The week everyone arrived back was pretty normal. The guy I had been talking to, Jared, became my boyfriend and I started to feel much safer as he slept over. About another week went by before anything happened again.

It was the beginning of April when what I had concluded to be my stalker showed up again. He seemed to have a thing for showing up between 2:30 and 3:30, possibly because he knew I was typically the only person awake during those hours. I apologize for this next part because it’s probably tmi, but it was 3 AM and Jared and I were fooling around. As I’m half naked and going down on him, I see a bright light shine through my window.

This time was different than the last. It was as if the person had the flashlight and their body pressed up against my window. By the way, my window never actually stayed locked. Most of the windows on campus were that way, so I guess my school is cheap. I freaked out and jumped up, pressing my body against the wall to try and get as far out of view as possible. I felt violated and exposed. I wouldn’t want anyone to witness what was going on, especially not a complete stranger.

I’d had enough of all of this. As if I didn’t have a difficult enough time sleeping already, now I had to add “watching out for creepy guys who go bump in the night” to my list of reasons as to why I couldn’t sleep. I reported the incident to campus safety yet again, and again they promised to look into it. They had already told me they were planning to put video cameras on the back of my building to try and catch whoever this was. Clearly, that never happened.

Another couple of weeks go by and we’re about a week and a half away from finals. By now I look like complete shit. Professors started asking questions. Friends unaware of the situation expressed their concerns. All I could think about was finishing finals and praying that this would all be over. I wasn’t lucky enough to escape without a final goodbye from my late night visitor.

My boyfriend and I were asleep in bed. Yes, I was actually asleep for once. There was a point in time when I was a heavy sleeper, but that time had long since passed. It was as if my brain was subconsciously on high alert at all times.

I awoke to a strange sound. It wasn’t very loud or threatening, but I still waited a few seconds before opening my eyes. As soon as I opened my eyes I instantly knew that my bedroom door was open, and throughout the entirety of my life I have always slept with my door closed. My room is pitch black, and, as I said before, I am as good as blind without my glasses, but this didn’t stop me from spotting the shadowy figure moving away from my bedroom door and into our common room.

Terrified and praying that I was about to wake up from one of my nightmares, I didn’t move. I wanted to keep calm and pretend it wasn’t real. This lasted all of about 30 seconds before I shook Jared awake. I told him about what I thought happened. He was tired and definitely annoyed, but he still agreed to go check the common room.

Jared was in the common room for a couple of minutes. I started to get nervous because he hadn’t come back yet, so I went to check things out for myself. I found him in the common room just looking around. He hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights. Maybe he was still half asleep, maybe he was scared of what he’d find, who the hell knows. He saw me come in and tried to reassure me that he looked around and found no one. This is when turned on the lights.

One of the common room windows was completely open and the blinds were half destroyed. I looked at Jared with tears in my eyes and my whole body began to shake. He said he hadn’t even noticed the window because the chair was in front of it and the blinds were technically still down. He closed the window and tried his best to lock it. Somehow he calmed me down and convinced me to go back to bed. He was able to eventually fall back asleep, but I laid in the bed the rest of the night, fearing that this guy was going to come back.

Finals concluded and I returned to my home state for the summer. I never learned this guy’s identity and still can’t decide if this is a blessing or not. There were no signs of anything like what happened at school while I was home, although I did receive an abnormal amount of phone calls from blocked numbers.

I’ve since returned to school and am halfway through my senior year. My friends and I relocated to a building on campus that requires each person to have a roommate, so I feel safer than I did before, but I still have trouble sleeping. Nothing super weird has happened yet this year, so I’m hoping it stays this way.

For those of you as naive as I was, please understand that even the smallest, safest places are not as safe as you think. Lock your doors, lock your windows, don’t go anywhere alone late at night, pay attention to your surroundings and be aware.

— opheliary

27. Sketchy cop tries to get me in his police car

I’m 25, female and an exotic dancer, living in the Detroit area. This story takes place on my way home from work one night at 2am, at the gas station near my house- about a week ago.

My boyfriend had needed to use my car, he dropped me to work and picked me up, so he was driving. There was a cop car parked right in front of the entrance, but other than that, we were the only customers. My boyfriend parked at the pump farthest from the entrance and I got out to go buy cigs.

As I walked in, I immediately almost bumped into a very tall, very buff police officer. He was standing in front of the cashier (who was behind bullet proof glass and spoke no english) and talking loudly, oblivious to the fact that the cashier had no idea what he was saying.

I apologized for bumping into him.

“Its okay, sweetie. Say, what are you? Like where you from? You look mixed.”

“Guam,” I said, annoyed, but still courteous. I’m terrified of police. Especially Detroit cops.

“Guam? Lot of hookers there, yeah?” He laughed.

“Uh, I wouldn’t know, I was just a little girl…” I mumbled, trying to move past him to the register to buy my smokes. He was blocking my way. Suddenly, he reached an arm out and placed it on the small of my back, and because I was wearing a short coat, he easily wriggled his hand underneath it and my shirt, touching my bare skin.

“Well, you’re not a little girl anymore, eh?” He was now pushing me slightly, guiding me back out the door. The way the store was set up, we were only a foot or so from the door. I was panicking a little bit, but because he was a cop, I didn’t know how to react. I’ve been in plenty of similar situations without freezing up, but his authority really fucked with my head. I was so confused, I wasn’t sure what he was doing.

We exited the store. His (empty) squad car was parked directly outside the doors. He was leading me towards it, talking loudly.

“I’m cruisin alone tonight. I could jack off if I wanted to! I love riding alone.” His voice was echoing loudly throughout the pumps. I was number, but started dragging my feet a little, realizing how fucked up this really was.

Suddenly, I heard a car door slam and my boyfriend yelling my name. The cop’s hand dropped away from my back and the beelined for his squad car without saying a word. Because of the way my car was parked behind the pump, the cop had not realized I wasn’t alone. My boyfriend had the window cracked because he was smoking a cigarette and he had heard the cop making creepy comments and then spotted me being led to the squad car. He said I looked like a zombie. He had never seen me like that before. It freaked him out so bad, he slammed the car door, called my name and ran over to me.

By the time he got to me, the cop had left and I had snapped out of it. I started crying. A million thoughts went through my head. I was wearing heavy make up because I’d just left work, maybe he thought I was a hooker. I hadn’t stopped him, he probably thought I wanted whatever he wanted to do to me. I felt ashamed and embarrassed. My boyfriend did his best to console me. He even tried to ask the cashier for help, but he spoke no English and just kept saying “no cops, no cops, please.”

He was probably illegal. I understand. He also had no idea what had just happened. I mean, I was THERE and I could hardly process it.

In the end, we just went home and tried to forget about it. I’ve been avoiding that gas station and I never go out alone anymore.

My heart stops for a second every time I see a Detroit cop behind me while I’m driving.

— dryerfreshsocks

28. I heard my lock jingle…

I live in a basement apartment of a somewhat older building, at least 100 years old I figure. There is no “front door” entrance to it, only two side entrances which tenants can use to reach the laundry room and one back door into the building, which only I have the key for, along with the building managers. I’ve only used the back door a few times, and that was for moving furniture in and out because my side entrances are impossible to use for stuff like that because the stairwell is so steep and the walls so narrow. Otherwise, I never use the back door.

Where I live it’s really snowy at the moment. Lots of ice and shit around. Two days ago when I left through my usual side door, I noticed that there was a shoveled path to the back of the building, which literally no one has a single reason to do or be back there. There is nothing back there for use. Only a door to get into my apartment like I said. But I thought this was highly suspicious, but I chocked it up to whoever the contractor for snow removal was just trying to be thorough and clear a path to the back because surely they don’t know who uses that back door or not, they have no reason to. (There’s actually a porch that can help you get into the main hallway, too, but that door is as locked down as can be, but again, no one knows that but tenants).

Anyways, ever since the shoveled snow I’ve been a bit more suspicious. Three weeks ago someone stole my motorcycle from the driveway close to the back door (probably 20 feet away?) and it’s put me on high alert because obviously I’m fucking pissed and violated that someone went so far as to steal my motorcycle from my driveway under video surveillance (unfortunately the cameras were broken/not set up right so there actually was no recorded footage, only a big camera pointing at you).

Two nights ago I stayed up literally almost all night reading stories on here because I couldn’t sleep as it was, but reading the stories didn’t make me feel any better about that, heh. But it’s all put me on hyper-awareness.

So last night around 10:30pm or so I let my little dog outside for the last time of the night. I hadn’t slept in 36 hours or so like I sad above and I was ready to pack it up. When I came back in from letting my dog out I took a look at the back door and realized that the deadbolt was disengaged, which sort of unnerved me. That’s highly unusual because there’s no need for it to be. Even more than that, there is a key broken off inside the deadbolt. So I have literally no way to lock that bitch at the moment. My alarms are going off on all levels. I figure there’s a chance that it’s nothing, but as an extra measure, I put a big ass brick in front of the door so that if anyone opened the door the brick would move and I’d know that someone used the door because of it. Then I went to bed.

Three o’clock in the morning comes and my little dog starts barking her fucking head off. And I think to myself fuck no. No one comes down to the basement at 3AM. (The laundry room is across the hall from my apartment but no one is doing laundry at 3am unless they’re a meth head, and I heard no laundry being done.)

I get up, and get close to our main door, being very quiet, letting my dog bark. My dog is a dachshund by the way—big bark, little bite and it’s noticeable.

As I approach my door I hear the door knob jiggle a bit, but thankfully I engaged my deadbolt before bed. I’m freaking the fuck out about this at this point.

Thankfully, I’ve sort of prepared for this sort of situation in my mind. A thousand times I’ve anticipated someone coming down and trying to open my door, because I live in the city and there are shitty people who do shitty things like break into people’s homes.

I stand back from the door and yell to the man that “I have a Glock 9MM in my hands ready to unload with lethal force. The police are on their way. (They actually weren’t, I was so amped up I didn’t think about it at the time.) If you attempt to enter my premises I WILL KILL YOU.”

I then heard footsteps book it the fuck out of there up the side stairs and away.

This morning I filed a complaint with my apartment complex demanding that they change the locks and take care of the situation.

Lastly, here’s a picture of my big-ass foot in comparison to one of the footprints they left. I post this in case anyone thinks I’m lying for whatever reason. I realize that my foot is long enough to be these, but my feet are fucking huge and wide. There’s no way I could have that narrow of a sole.

— Metropolis9999

29. Someone else is living inside my apartment…

So, I just got a new job back in October, working Tech Support on the graveyard shift. I work from 1am – 12pm Friday through Monday’s. Needless to say, adjusting my sleep schedule has been quite the task, but I have managed. On the days that I don’t work, I still follow my work schedule, waking up at midnight, and staying up until at least 2pm before falling asleep as to keep my sleep schedule in line with my work schedule. I bought blackout curtains to help with this, as trying to sleep with the sun shining is not easy for me, I usually require complete darkness.

I live alone, I started noticing weird things happening around my apartment when I would get home from work, or after waking up on my days off. Just little things at first, lights being on, that I swear I turned off, doors being left open or closed.

Just so everyone can get a bit of understanding about my apartment: I live on the 2nd floor, and my building is right behind the leasing office. The entrance to my apartment requires you to enter the building first then there is a hallway with 2 apartments on either side, then you can enter the apartment. Each apartment has two deadbolts. One that you can unlock from the outside, and another that requires you to unlock from the inside. There is also a balcony, which faces east, complete with a large, sliding glass door and screen. I use it quite frequently, as I had potted plants out there, but have brought them inside due to the cold weather. Hallway Doorway
My apartment is the one closest to the camera, I intentionally left out the number, for obvious reasons.

I also have two cats, Luna and Eclipse, who, until recently, lived with me. I am moving soon and can’t afford the pet deposit, so my parents offered to let them stay at their place for the time being. Eclipse is Luna’s daughter, and only 6 months old, so she follows her mom around all the time. I’d usually find them cuddled up together on my chair or bed, and recently, they’d trap themselves in the bathroom.

Now that they’re not here, it had gotten harder to pass off these weird occurrences as my cats. Doors are still being left open and closed, and food has been disappearing from my fridge. At first I passed this off as just me being my usual self and just not remembering that I ate something when I was half asleep or bored.

Recently, my boss gave me permission to work from home, as this shift is brand new, as the company is moving to 24/7 support, and the building owner refuses to heat my floor for my shift for only two people. So, I’ve been doing that for the past couple weeks and last week, I noticed, the metal rod, that acts as a secondary lock on the balcony door, wasn’t engaged, so I put it back. I didn’t think much of it at the time, as my computer faces my balcony door(I like to people watch and watch the sunrise, sue me) and I sometimes fidget with it with my feet while playing video games.

On the 11th of December, my Credit card information was stolen and my account was charged +$3000. I was in the office that day, as a favor to my coworker, who was really creeped out being in the office alone in the middle of the night. The charge was made at 11:40am, just a few moments before I gotten off work, and I had the card on me still. (This is relevant, I promise)

I was restless, and didn’t sleep well. I wake up at midnight, per usual, on Monday morning, and get my set up ready to take calls. Now, almost no calls come in on the weekends, so i’m usually screwing around on Reddit, Facebook, YouTube and Netflix.

Around 3:00am I was catching up on The 100 when someone unlocked my fucking door! I don’t mean, picked the lock, I mean used a key. Thank god the secondary deadbolt was engaged but the person jiggled the door to try and get it to open. I ran and grabbed my gun looked out the peephole, but saw nothing. I opened the door, with the intent to shoot someone, but the person was already gone.

Before you ask, yes I called the cops, no they didn’t find anything. There are no cameras in the hallways of the building, or outside them for that matter, and they told me that there wasn’t enough evidence for them to do anything about it, and left.

I didn’t sleep at all the next night, and decided to stay home, on my days off, to try and catch the person, if they tried to come back. I also asked the leasing office if they handed out any extra keys to my apartment and they said “no.” and informed them that I changed the locks on my door. You remember the picture from before? Showing my apartment door? Well the white door, just on the other side of the fire extinguisher, is my storage closet, opened with the same key for the deadbolt. I keep my Christmas tree/Decorations in there and decided it was time to set it up.

As i’m pulling out the tree this evening, its only a 5ft tall fake tree that has all the lights attached to it already, I notice a bag, back behind it. A small, black duffel-bag, in it, I found a change of clothes, sunglasses, shoes, toiletries and a notebook. What was in the notebook horrified me.

There were notes about me. What hours/days I worked, notes about my cats, and updated notes that they were no longer there and the date, my fucking credit card number! As I went further and further back in the notes, I found two words, circled multiple times “Balcony Door.” Which I assume is how the person entered my apartment for the first time. This creep had been living in my apartment while I’ve been at work for the past month and I didn’t even know it! The worst part is, that I was in my apartment at the same time as this guy, at some point, and didn’t even know it. That’s the only way he would have gotten my credit card number, and my house key to make a copy somewhere!

I’ve called the police, and they’re on their way over. I’m writing this as i’m waiting for them to show up, its the only thing that’s keeping me sane right now, plus I think it will help me organize my thoughts so I can best explain to the officers what has happened.

I’ll keep you guys updated as things progress.

Edit/Update: So, I guess I should have noted, I used to have a roommate, he joined the navy a few months back. The cops think the bag is his and was the one who tried to come in. Only problem with that, is he’s in (Florida?) Going through basic training. So unless he lied about that in an attempt to not have to pay rent anymore, I doubt that is the case. They said they’ll look into it and add it to my already open investigation on my credit card case.

UPDATE: Sorry everyone, i’ve been working this evening and not able to get to all your questions but I will try. Yes I did take pictures of the bag and the contents inside:

Everything in Bag

Notebook

Inside Notebook

I took the photos after making the post initially while waiting for the cops to show up, just for my own records, since I’m a paranoid fuck. I blacked out my apartment number and the CC number for obvious reasons.

— Ashontez

30. Tried to protect kids from creeper, but then the creepy turned to me…

Every summer since I was 4, my Nana took me and my sisters to California. I always loved going, since she had a pool and let me drive around on her golf cart.

I blame teenage angst, since I was turning 15 that summer, but I threw a huge fit to my mom over going. I had just gotten a boyfriend and didn’t want to go long distance for a month, and all 3 of my younger sisters were going to tag along (meaning I had to babysit). Mom put her foot down, told me to suck it up. So obviously I was going to be a pretty pissy teen the whole time.

So beginning of June, we load up in Nana and Papa’s van and head off. I live on a small coastal town in Oregon, so the trip was going to take around 2 days to get all the way down to Palm Springs. Looking back on it, I was totally miserable to be around. Picking on my sisters, ignoring my grandparents, huffing and puffing the entire time. So I really don’t blame them for what they did.

A day had passed since we finally made it to the rental home, when my mom called, excitedly telling me that since I was older now, I get a chance to travel, that it’s fully paid for, how grateful I should be, etc. I interrupted her, saying that I go to Cali every year, why is she so stoked about it this time?

“No kiddo, your Aunt Pat is flying you out to stay with her for the next 2 whole months! She’s paying for it all, isn’t that so nice?”

I was so confused, and just stood there listening to her ramble on about the trip I was to take in a few days. Then I started to get pissy.

“What the fuck do you mean 2 months? Doesn’t she live in Texas? Why am I going to fucking Texas!” I was livid.

Well, turns out that Papa had grown tired of my teenage moods pretty fast (rightfully so) and complained about it to his sister, Aunt Pat. She told him to send me to her, that it would be a good experience for me, all expenses paid. Nana and Papa didn’t see an issue with it, and neither did my mom. I on the other hand, saw plenty. My first thoughts were of my boyfriend back home, naturally. And being bored alone in Texas wasn’t looking like a fun option either. I begged and begged my mom to let me stay in Cali, but she insisted that I go as a learning experience.

So the next 2 days I was completely sullen, up until I was dropped off at the airport. It wasn’t until I was actually boarding that I realized I hadn’t seen my Aunt Pat or her husband Rick since I was 7. The only form of communication I had with them was the annual Christmas card with the attached $10. To be honest I didn’t even remember what they looked like. I tried texting my mom, at a last ditch effort to get out of it, but nope. The plane ticket was paid for, and I was already boarded. She argued back that I was exaggerating, that it was my Papa’s sister so I would be fine, and to quit complaining or she’d shut my cell phone completely off as punishment. So I strapped up and flew to Texas.

I didn’t get into the airport until late, and was worried that they had forgotten about me. I get to the waiting area, and even though we were the only people there (save for one older Latino man) they were waiting with a sign plastered with my name on it. I gave a meek smile and wave, and they ran up excitedly, asking about my flight and whatnot. They were an older couple, older then I thought they were. Matching gray hair, and oddly tall. They both were dressed like tourists, with the Hawaiian dress shirts and khaki’s, and Rick had shades on with a safari hat, even though we were inside. I figured they were just weird old people and brushed it off.

We arrived back to their house, a really nice one in a rich senior living area. Aunt Pat showed me around the house and to the spare room which would be mine, and left me be. I instantly called my boyfriend, let him know I landed safely and told him about the flight and how weird my relatives were.

Since I was off on my sleeping schedule, I ended up sleeping in until noon the next day. I groggily rolled out of bed and walked downstairs to get breakfast. I was met with a note on the fridge, explaining that they were both at the store and would be back soon. I ate, showered, got dressed, and waited. They pulled up shortly after, and whisked into the house with a huge bag.

Aunt Pat grinned and handed me the sack. “We got you a little present! We’re both just so excited you’re here.”

I opened it up to reveal a hideous star spangled banner dress, with accompanying hair pieces. It was so horrendous, but as rude of a teen as I was, I wasn’t point blank disrespectful. I gave them both a huge smile and a thanks.

Rick pulled out the dress, and let it unfold in all its ugly glory. “We walk in the summer parade every year, and want you to walk with us! Our roundabout is flag themed this year. Why don’t you go try it on, make sure it fits?”

Weirdly, it fit just fine, much to their delight. The parade was in 3 days, and until then we would do some sight seeing around Texas.

For those 3 days, I was completely Ill-tempered. Everything they were doing was making me want to scream, I was so annoyed and irritable. They’d drone on about one thing, argue off tangent about another, and they had a rigorous schedule that my teenage body did not want to keep up with. Waking up very early to go on a snails pace walk, quick to bed at night with no TV, just basic old people lifestyle. But to a teen, it was hell. All of the tourist spots they took me to were very bland, and I was not in the mood to be appreciative. Whether they were starting to get annoyed with me or not, they never showed it. I wouldn’t have cared if they were anyway, I figured they’d just send me home early if I did get on their nerves enough with my moodiness.

So the ‘big day’ comes around, and I’m garbed up in my outfit, ready to die of humiliation. The parade was pretty long, walking about 3 miles through the neighborhood. I half waved and fake smiled the entire way through. Then followed the giant BBQ, which went on until late at night.

Aunt Pat told me to stick close to them, and to not wander off since I’d get lost pretty quick. About an hour of being glued to them, they started to keep less of an eye on me and focused on their friends. I walked off to get some food, and decided to keep walking. It was a nice night out, and felt good to get some fresh air and freedom. I watched some kids play with sparklers, adults laughing loudly and spilling their beer, and started to feel a bit better.

I kept strolling on, having a good time people watching, when I saw a 2 little girls sprint across the street a couple blocks down from me, waving sparklers. I grinned, thinking about my own little sisters, when I noticed a weird shadow just beyond where the kids had ran. My smile dropped, and I froze, peering harder to make out what it was. The shadow moved quickly, following where the girls did. I figured that it was probably just their parent, but the hairs standing on the back of my neck said otherwise. I decided there wasn’t any harm in following, just to make sure my subconscious was wrong, and jogged down the street.

I made it to where I saw the girls run by, and looked down the road to check if I could see them. There was a little play structure at the end of the street, for the neighborhood kids to play on, and I guessed they probably ran down there to play. I made it to the park and heard giggles coming from the tube slide, and a small pile of burnt out sparklers on the ground below the entrance. I glanced around quickly, and didn’t see anyone creepy. In fact, I didn’t even see a parent nearby.

Knowing if my sisters did this, my mom would be livid. It was dark out, no one around for at least 5 blocks before the party, and it was getting cold and late. I made my presence known, to not scare the kids, and pretended to get a phone call so they could hear my voice and know I was a girl and hopefully someone they felt they could trust.

“Oh hey! Yeah I’m down at the little park waiting for you. See you soon.” The giggles stop and little faces peered out. They couldn’t have been more then 4/5 years old.

I waved hello to them, and asked them if they were having fun. They nodded and clambered out. I know how to talk to little kids since I’ve been around them for so long, so they warmed up to me pretty fast. While playing with them for a little I asked where their parents were, if they knew where they lived. They ignored me, and continued to drag me around to play games.

“I really like your dress! It looks like mine! My grandma got it for me!” One of them did a quick spin for me to show off her bedazzled flag dress. I remembered then that all the cul de sacs were themed, and figured they had to live in one of the houses around Aunt Pats. I asked if they walked in the parade and they nodded, and went off telling me about how fun riding the float was. We had a big flag float on our section, so they must have been up on it and I didn’t see them since I spent most of my time zoned out.

As I was playing super sleuth, I saw a shadow move from down the street towards the park. I got the heeby-jeebies again, and kept my eye on it. The girls had crawled back in the slide during this, and were trying to get me to catch them. Something came over me and I told them to keep quiet for just a little bit, that we were gonna play a joke on someone. They loved the idea, thank god, and cupped their hands to their mouth with big grins.

By this time the shadow figure was within the lamppost that illuminated the park, and I could see him clearly. He looked like a normal guy, middle aged, just slightly disheveled. As he got closer to me though, the worse I felt. I was sitting on the swing, acting like I was texting when he came up to me.

“Have you seen my girls anywhere? I lost them up at the parade.” He peered around the playground quickly. “I hoped they had come here to play…” He trailed off and gave me a nervous laugh. His story seemed to add up, but then again the girls only mentioned a Grandma.

“Oh, no I haven’t, but I could keep an eye out for them. What are their names?” This was the true test, since the girls had already told me their names during me quizzing them.

“Oh uh, Emma and Ava. Two little girls? Blonde? Haven’t seen them…?”

Wrong. Their names weren’t even close to what he just bullshitted with. My creep o’ meter shot up. I shook my head no, apologized, and went back to my phone. Since Aunt Pat was tech illiterate, she doesn’t text. Which left me stuck waiting on this dude to leave so I could call her and explain what was happening. Instead, he decides to pop a squat down on the swing next to me. Great.

He starts to make small talk with me, asking where I lived around here, what my name is, if I had a boyfriend. I kept my answers short, making up a fake name, saying my dad was coming soon to get me. His questions started to get more personal, if I was on my period, how old I was, if I was a virgin. I snapped at him and asked why he was bothering me when he should be looking for his kids.

That’s when I saw the knife. He shifted in the swing and his shirt went up, revealing a huge knife clipped to his pocket. I tried acting like I didn’t see it, and as I pulled out my phone to text my boyfriend to call 911, the guy snatched my cell. He kept asking for my passcode, wanting to see if I had nudes on my phone. I was scared to piss him off, and worried if I started yelling it would scare the girls into making noise.

I started acting like I was into him, keep him calm, hopefully get him away from the kids long enough for me to get help in some fashion. I laughed and said I didn’t have nudes, but he insisted on getting my passcode. I claimed it was some random 4 digit number, and it locked him out of my phone. He tossed it back to me and told me my phone was busted.

He then got up and asked me to come help him look for his girls, that it would be a faster search if I did. He pointed off down the street he had come up from and insisted they must have gone that way. I stood up slowly, trying to stall and figure out what to do, but he slipped an arm around my waist and herded me off.

“Maybe I should go the opposite way, cover more ground?” I tried to peel away from him but his grip was tight.

“No, they went this way. No use splitting up..” He kept coming up with excuses to keep me there and I was terrified of what would happen if he got mad so I stayed quiet.

His hand kept trailing down to my ass and groping it, and it took every ounce of my being to not break into sobs right there. I felt so stupid, what was my plan? I left the girls alone, I’m alone with a crazy person, and no one knows where either of us are.

Then I hear the sweet sound of sandals slapping on pavement, and a booming voice yell out “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!”

Uncle Rick had come to save the day. He was running down the sidewalk towards me, as fast as a 75 year old man can. Which apparently is pretty fast. The guy suddenly let go of me and whipped out his knife, aiming at Rick. I ran away, and started yelling to my uncle that he had a knife.

Apparently my aunt and uncle both have concealed weapons permits, and why wouldn’t they? It’s Texas. He whipped out his hand gun, and starts yelling at me to get back. The mans eyes grow wide, and he throws his knife in Ricks direction and turns to run and hopped a fence, and keeps on running through someone’s yard and kept going. Rick lowers his gun and ushers me to him and I started choking out what happened between sobs. He kept his cool the entire time and wrapped me in a big bear hug.

We went back to the park and I crawled inside the tube to find the little girls curled up at the bottom together, asleep. Rick called Aunt Pat and I woke the kids up, congratulating them on staying quiet so well. We all clamber out when Aunt Pat shows up in the car.

I got a good lecture from her, and so did the girls. Apparently Aunt Pat knew them and their grandma, and loaded us up and took us back to the BBQ, which was now shut down and replaced with a search party and police.

The girls ran back to grandma, and I had to explain what happened to the police and give a description of the guy. Turns out they’ve had multiple calls on him for hovering around the playground and following kids home from the bus stop. They were surprised when I said Rick hadn’t shot the guy, just scared him. The cop turned to my uncle and asked why he didn’t, and Rick gestures to me.

“She’s from Oregon, didn’t wanna make her liberal ass shit itself.”

The next day, Aunt Pat woke me up early and drove me to a gym where she then paid for a trainer to give me self defense lessons for the rest of the time I was in Texas. After the incident, I was much less of a dickhead teen, and did a 180 on my mood. Aunt Pat didn’t even call to tell my mom, saying there was no point in worrying her if we’ve handled it.

I don’t know if they ever caught the creep, but I definitely have the skill set now to handle him if I ever run into him or someone alike again. I just hope I never do. I’ll leave being a badass to Uncle Rick and Aunt Pat.

— pimberly

Still want more scares? Proceed to page 4 here!