This is a collection of some of the scariest and most interesting stories from the internet.
I've never read any of these stories on my channel, but if you've heard any of them,
I will be leaving timestamps for each story in the description and pinned
comment just incase you want to skip past any.
Now that that's out of the way, I hope you enjoy the video and let's begin
This took place about 10 years ago when I was a freshman in college. This is the first
time I've recounted this story, in full detail, to anyone.
I attended college in a rural, mountain area in the NorthEast. A small school tucked away
in the rolling hills of the mountains. The type of place where the beauty and casual
grace of nature is juxtaposed by the ugliness of humanity. The newspaper was ultraconservative
& you couldn't sojourn too deeply into the woods beyond a few tree's without seeing some
trace of meth activity. You know the type of place I mean.
ANYWAY, one of my new friends from college discovered somehow an abandoned train trestle
deep in the woods about 5 miles from campus (in no man's land, basically.) I don't remember
how he found this place, because it was very much off the beaten path. The trestle crossed
above a river which placidly flowed about 40 ft below. It was actually quite beautiful
and we began going there maybe 3 times a week just chilling on the trestle, watching the
water below and the open sky above. We'd drink forty's there, smoke a bowl there, bring girls
there. We began jumping off the trestle into the water below & then climbing back up. It
was just a very college-y thing to do. Our chill spot basically.
So one day, just needing to get away from the dorms & away from it all, I decided to
go by myself to the trestle for a swim. It was about 7pm so I still had a good hour or
so of dim sunlight and I brought a flashlight for the walk home when it was sure to be dark.
I made the trek though the pathways of the woods as I had done a hundred times before
left my towel and flashlight on the trestle and jumped into the water.
The water was bout 10 to 15 feet deep, Id say. It flowed almost imperceptibly-you might
as well be swimming in a stagnant pool. However, about maybe 50 yards away from the trestle,
the river narrows and the current picks up significantly, then about 20 yards after that
there is a maybe 20 foot high waterfall that bubbles and splashes with extreme violence.
We used to watch large objects go over and never come up again.
So there I am, dimly bobbing my head in & out of the water. Doing underwater flips, etc.
When I pop my head out of the water, I happen to glance to the side of the river and see
a man walking towards the water. The water is kind of impeding my view so I don't see
him fluidly walking towards the water. I more see him in different stages of being closer
to the water. Like flipping through a flip book. He 15 ft away, 10 ft away, 5 feet away.
I can barely give you a description: maybe 6ft tall, pale, skinny, black hair pulled
back in a pony tail. What I DO remember most about his appearance was the extremely empty
look on his face and in his eyes. Like he was doing something mundane: taking out the
trash, or raking leaves. I'm treading water, not knowing what to think,
and I see that he is no longer beside the river, he has dove in. and is swimming pin-straight
directly at me SO FAST. SO FAST. I try to swim the opposite way but within a minute
I feel him grab my ankle and tug. I tried to scream but water filled my mouth. While
I'm under water he lets go and goes up for air, then grabs back on and pulls me again.
It seems like he's done this before and I never once see him after he jumped in the
water. He's gradually pulling me to where the current picks up before the waterfall.
I start to realize this and just fucking flipping out. Kicking, screaming, cursing-to no effect.
Finally, I feel the current start the take me, and as I twist away towards the waterfall,
I look back and see this, this, fucking guy just casually swimming back to where he jumped
in the water. Not even looking at me. This is by far the scariest moment of my life as
I approach the waterfall. Long story short, I go over and am underwater for a long time,
over a minute. The water above, unrelentingly pushing me under. The only reason I survived
was there was a large log that had gone over and I grabbed it and leverage it against the
bottom to push me away from the crushing water. I survive obviously. But then I had to trek
the miles back to my dorm, in the dark, without my flashlight. Every step of the way thinking
he would come back to finish the job. The next year, a football player drowned going
over that fall. The news said it was because there was an extreme current due to recent
rainfall but I've always wondered about that.
Before I start here's a bit of context to my story. My husband and I lived in a small
two floor house with two main entrances, one along the front and the other on the side
of the house, which opens up into the laundry room. When we're too busy or it's too
late to walk our dog, we hook his collar onto a long line that's attached to one of the
pipes on the corner of our house, so he can use the bathroom. We used to do this from
the door in our laundry room, but we'd noticed the large step from the door to the ground
had been taking a toll on his hips. As a result, we started letting him out through the front
door instead, since the porch is much closer to the ground.
This particular night, I was home alone with my dog and it was around midnight when I decided
to let him outside one last time before going to bed. I hook him up to his line, close the
door and lock it, before heading into the kitchen to put away the dishes. This was pretty
routine, even if he used the bathroom quickly he liked to walk around along the front and
side of the house for a few minutes before coming back inside. As I'm putting away
the dishes I hear a scratch on the door (how my dog signals he wants to come inside), so
I head over to let him back in. Since I've watched way too many scary movies,
I always look through the door's peephole before opening the door. Out of habit I look
to check that my dog is in front of the door. Instead I see a man staring very intently
at the door handle. I freeze with my hand on the door handle.
I don't know how much time went by, but then I heard another scratch, this one louder
than the last. This kind of wakes me up from my initial shock and I run to grab my cellphone.
I call my husband to tell him what's happening. He was very confused, I probably wasn't
explaining the situation very well, but says that he's heading home.
This is when I realize my dog is still outside with this person. I head back to the front
door, trying to make as little noise as possible, to check whether the stranger is still there.
Just like before, he's standing there, head bowed looking at the door knob. I tiptoe over
to the laundry room, and slowly open the door as quietly as possible. I can't see my dog
anywhere and the side of my house is covered in gravel, I knew I couldn't step outside
without making a lot of noise. With my heart still pounding in my chest,
I go to the front door to keep an eye on the stranger and to get a better look at him.
I considered calling the police but I didn't feel they would take me seriously, since all
this man was doing was standing in front of my house. I tried taking a picture of him
with my cellphone but my camera was only able to take pictures of the peephole and not the
images behind the glass. All of the sudden, the man looks up directly
at me. I swear he knew I was there. He glares at me, then opens his mouth to show this taunting
malicious grin. He stood there that way for a few seconds. With that, he turns around
and starts to walk down the street. I stay in the same place, almost expecting
him to rush back and start pounding on the door. Luckily, my husband got back after a
few minutes. Long story short, he convinced me to call the police and we went out looking
for our dog. It turns out this man had cut the end of the line connected to the pipe,
and our dog decided this was a good time for him to explore my neighbors backyard, which
was where we found him. It's been three years since this happened, we've since moved
to a new house (unrelated reasons), and the police weren't able to come up with any
suspects. Ever since then, we take our dog on very long walks before the sun goes down.
This happened in the fall of 1993, when I was 20 years old. In the interest of context,
this was before I started college, and I was working in the material prep department of
a plastics factory on the night shift. I was the only woman in the department, and my male
coworkers were initially skeptical that I could handle the job, but I proved myself
and earned their respect. It was hard work, but on the plus side, it also put me in the
best shape of my life. It was also about this same time that I'd dumped my abusive boyfriend;
he was verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive, as well as an alcoholic. This fact,
more than anything, is probably why I got myself into this situation in the first place.
I had just gotten off work, and it was about 1:30am. My car was running on fumes, so I
stopped at a local gas station to fill up. While I was pumping gas, a woman about my
age approached me looking nervous and scared. She said that she had been at her boyfriend's
house, and they'd had a fight. She'd walked to the gas station to use the pay phone and
call a friend to pick her up. On her way to the station, a car pulled up as she was walking
and the guys inside started catcalling and harassing her. With a slight movement of her
head she indicated a car that was parked off to the side by the gas station dumpsters.
I saw a large light green car, like a Caddy or a Lincoln, with at least 2 or 3 shadowy
figures inside. She said they threatened her, and she was too scared to call her friend
and wait. The woman was neat, well-dressed, and didn't
seem high or drunk or anything like that…she just seemed really nervous and freaked out,
so I didn't even hesitate. I finished pumping my gas and told her to hop in the car, that
I'd take her home. At that time on a weeknight, there was little
traffic, so I booked it right out of the gas station and asked her where she lived. She
kept twisting around in the seat to see if the car was behind us, and when I asked her
to put her seat-belt on, she ignored me and kept looking for the car. I assumed she was
just scared. A few blocks down the road, however, I noticed
she was looking around the car, and she started asking me about money, "Where's your purse?
Where's your bag? I need money. You need to give me some money." My stomach sank.
I have this woman in my car, and now she's gonna rob me. Fuck. But when I thought about
it, robbery just didn't make much sense. I was driving a 1985 Chevette (affectionately
nicknamed "Shitbox") and was wearing my work clothes: a ratty T-shirt and jeans with
combat boots. I did NOT look like a person with a lot of cash primarily because I wasn't
a person with a lot of cash. She'd twisted around in the seat again and
started yelling, "There they are! There they are!" She didn't sound scared anymore.
I checked the rearview, and sure enough, the light green car is right behind me. She started
cackling and bouncing up and down in the seat, "My boys are gonna FUCK YOU UP, bitch! They're
gonna FUCK YOU UP!" She's laughing like crazy, opening the glove box, looking in the
back for a bag or purse, telling me all the messed up shit these guys are planning to
do to me. Now, if I had been smart, I would have just
driven to the police station. Actually, if I had been VERY smart, I would have called
the cops from the gas station and waited with her until they arrived. That would have been
the intelligent thing to do. Unfortunately, none of this crossed my mind until later.
In the moment, I just got really, really fucking angry. I realized 3 key things all at once:
There was an intersection up ahead, with cars on either side waiting to cross, and the light
had just turned yellow. I had a spare box cutter that I kept for work
in the driver's side door compartment. The crazy bitch still hadn't put on her
seat-belt. I didn't think. I floored it and passed
under the yellow light just as it turned red. I glanced back to see if the green car was
still behind me, but the cross traffic at the intersection had started to move, and
they hadn't caught up. The bitch started yelling; I slammed on the brakes and she hit
the dash and windshield with a solid, and viciously satisfying, crack. When she rebounded
to the passenger seat, I had the box cutter in her face and was screaming some serious
bat-shit crazy. I can't remember exactly what I said, but it was along the lines of,
"Get the FUCK OUT. Get the FUCK out of my car before I CUT OFF YOUR FACE AND MAKE YOU
EAT IT, BITCH." The crazy screaming and box-cutter combo worked.
She grabbed blindly at the handle and popped the door open, and I started shoving and punching
her until the bitch tumbled out the door to the curb. I stomped on the gas, got to the
next turn and squealed around it with the passenger door still open. I made a few more
turns because I was afraid that the green car might catch up to me. After a little while
I stopped to close the passenger door, and then I cut across town and got on to the highway
to go home. I was on the highway for about 5 minutes before the shakes started. I pulled
off to the shoulder to calm down and get my shit together, and then I drove home.
I told my older sister (I was living with her temporarily after the break-up with my
ex) everything that happened. She wrapped me in a tight bear hug while simultaneously
yelling about how stupid I was for not going to the police. I've never been so glad to
be yelled at in my life.
To give some explanation and background knowledge for this whole encounter, I was around 15
at the time this occurred. I was camping out in the middle of nowhere with my family and
part of my extended family, my aunt, uncle, and cousins. I was the oldest kid there in
the RV, so you can probably understand how it felt to have no one else to do the stupid
crap I did back then with. With a good 2 year gap between me and the inferiors, it was almost
like nirvana when I got to the campground and met the other teenagers.
These were all people we knew fairly well from previous camping trips, so it was considered
normal to hit it off with them from the start and act like we've known each other forever
within the hour. Now, the story.
My parents trusted me a lot, not a lie. I liked my fun, but I liked getting home in
time for dinner equally as much. So when I was gone most of the day with other people
from the camp, they didn't think much of it. The only rule was that I had to be back at
the RV to eat dinner, and before 8:30 (20:30) in the evening. So picture this: group of
6 teenagers, 15-16, out in the middle of the woods with no adult supervision for the vast
majority of the day. Just a recipe for success right there.
But this particular day, we found a neat little deer trail we hadn't found in the 2 years
we'd been there before. On second thought, though, it didn't really seem like a deer
trail. It snaked through a really thick part of the underbrush, maybe a foot (30cm) of
clear ground, 3 ½ feet (1 meter) clear of branches going upwards. It's a really hard
thing to pick out of the brush, unless you're either really looking or know where it is.
It was promptly explored, marked with a broken branch outside of the entrance, and quickly
forgotten. Except, I remembered this special little tunnel.
That night, while we were all eating dinner, one of the adults proposed that we played
manhunt out in the woods. At night. Not everyone was totally on board with this idea, but in
the grand scheme of the plan, they were quashed down like autumn leaves. Everyone got a flashlight,
and everyone was assigned to a team. For those of you who aren't sure what manhunt
is, here's an explanation: Everyone playing is given a flashlight, and they are divided
into two groups. It's basically like glorified flashlight tag, but there's a catch; As
you catch people, you have to correctly identify who they are, and if you can, they join forces
with the hunters. The last man standing gets a candy bar or something, whatever is being
offered as a prize. This is how we played it, anyways.
For the first round, I get lumped in with the runners, those who are getting chased
by the hunters. We get a 5 minute head start to run, climb a tree, whatever the hell we
want to do to evade the hunters. Usually, I'm the one up in the tree, but that never
really worked out as being the winning spot. So, to try and score a win for once, I decide
to play the cat and use one, surefire method of escape.
And the hiding spot was the rude little path through the thicket.
It took most of the head start time to find the damn thing, because it was so well-hidden
and out of the way. As I passed hiding spots, I heard hushed, smothered whispering between
siblings who were questioning my actions, like a bird's wings rustling when it's
fluffing itself. It should be noted that I have bat hearing; my ears are possibly my
greatest asset in this game. But when I'm just reaching the destination, I hear the
short blast of the air horn announcing that the five minutes are up.
I swan dove into this minute little path in the undergrowth, shuffling on my hands and
knees until I'm about halfway in, crouching down like some huge, malformed quail. The
hunters are doing an initial sweep through the trails, looking for obvious hiders and
people caught out trying to change spots. When they finally reach me, they reach the
dead end and go straight back. I try to readjust myself, and crawl further down the tunnel.
I honestly don't know how it happened, but I found an even more hidden path within that
one, And accidentally, I dragged my stupid body down the rabbit hole. Except, instead
of ending in a dead end, this one ended in a slight hollow.
I don't ever want to describe exactly what I found there. I'm sorry, but I just can't.
It was a younger looking woman, naked, covered in lacerations and stab wounds in the fetal
position. Her glassy, glazed eyes seemed to look straight through me. I won't go any
further than that. I was too scared to scream, and I froze there while dark, burgundy stains
formed on my jeans. I froze there, in a pseudo-catatonic position
like a marble carving for what felt like hours. And then, I heard someone else coming along
that path. Have you ever been so scared that for one
moment, one insane moment, you truly consider something incredibly stupid as a viable option
to escape? That was one of those times. I let out a short, trembling whimper, and started
moving. Whoever was on the path stopped, and then eagerly started moving forward again.
I could hear their panting, uneven breaths of a man, a horrible marker of whoever it
was getting closer and closer to me by the second.
By some wondrous, beautiful miracle, he missed the path leading to the brushy hollow. I heard
him moving down past the entrance, dragging something clunky and awkward behind him. I
heard clinking noises, and the occasional effort to silence the small, sharp noises.
I heard a low curse, somewhere towards the end of the tunnel, and I blasted out of the
undergrowth tunnel like a bullet forcing its way out a barrel. Cracks, crashes and obnoxious
rustling was all around me as I heard the man sharply intake a breath and begin to move
towards me. The hoarse, deep panting was getting closer
and closer to me, a testament to how I was too slow at exiting. Somehow, I exploded out
of the entrance, got onto my wobbly, half-asleep legs, and started booking it down the trail.
The unknown pursuer was close behind me for a bit, but it seemed like he was too exhausted
to chase me at the same speed for long. I know everyone loves to rip on the fact that
people aways trip in horror movies, but in all honesty, tripping is something I am AMAZED
I didn't do. With adrenaline coursing through me at the speed of Usain Bolt, trying to make
my jello-like, unsteady walking appendages work to move me away from whoever was behind
me was like trying to run on water. It felt like an eternity, but I finally reached
the main trail running back to the camp, and sprinted down it screaming bloody murder.
Confused faces looked out from the trees, and I think someone called after me. Reaching
the camp was easy, but trying to explain why I woke up half the people in the camp and
bolted out of the woods at breakneck speed was harder. When I finally choked the words
out to explain, I remember a profound, insidious silence throughout the group of adults waiting
at the mouth of the trail. I really don't remember a whole lot from
that point on. I know the cops were called, and my mother and aunt ran shrieking and wailing
along the trail, calling for the other kids to come back to safety. When someone's yelling
like that, you don't ignore it; they rounded everyone up in 30 seconds flat, and barreled
back into the camp. The police found a man out in the woods, creeping
along the trail, clutching a knife. A black garbage bag with a plethora of sharp instruments
and a saw was found abandoned on the trail, some speckled and smeared with dried blood.
I don't think there's really any getting over it. I still have nightmares sometimes,
of the man chasing me, breathing heavily down the back of my neck, trying to catch me. Sometimes,
he succeeds.
So this is a story that happened to my mom's friend in Korea about like 10 years ago. Every
time I hear this story, I still get the chills. My mom's friend lived in an apartment complex
in Seoul. She was a stay-at-home mother with a young daughter, and her husband worked during
the days. One day, she was coming home from running errands with her daughter and got
onto the elevator in her building. When she got on, she noticed that there was a man wearing
a cap and a yellow raincoat, and he kept his head low so that she couldn't really see his
face. She immediately felt really uneasy, and she made her daughter stand to her side,
furthest away from the man. What made her feel even more uncomfortable was that when
she pressed the button for her floor, there was no other lit number. And on top of that,
she noticed that he was carrying something wrapped inside newspaper close to his side.
Things started to click in my mom's friend's head and she started to panic and decided
to take out her cell phone and pretend she was calling home to her husband, who was obviously
really not at home and at work. She started saying things like "Oh, I'm on the elevator
and about to get off. Can you get the door for me?" and making it seem like her husband
was waiting at home. When the elevator did reach her floor (I think
she lived on like the 12th floor or something) she quickly got off and grabbed her daughter
and started to walk as fast as she could to her apartment. She noticed that the man also
got off on her floor and was slowly following her down the hallway. When my mom's friend
got to her door, she started to bang on it and shout, "Hey, yeobo (husband/dear), I'm
home! Please open the door!" And kind of pretended like he was coming to answer the door. Upon
seeing this, the man in the yellow raincoat started to walk away back towards the elevator.
When he seemed to be far away enough, my mom's friend quickly picked up her daughter and
slid open her door's passcode thingy (this is usually how people get into their homes
in Korea) and started to frantically punch in her keycode. But the problem was that the
buttons would make sounds so the man knew that no one was going to answer the door for
her and he turned around and started to run back towards her. My mom's friend, at this
point, was practically screaming and when she finally got her door to open, the first
thing she did was throw her daughter in through the door. When she got in herself, she saw
that the man was pretty much inches from the door, but she managed to shut it and lock
it before he could wedge his hand or weapon into the door. Afterwards, looking through
the door's peep hole, she saw that the man was walking away back towards the elevator.
Several months later, my mom's friend was watching the news and there was a coverage
on the capture of a serial killer named Yoo Young Chul who used to kill a lot of prostitutes.
She told my mom that she could never forget the dread she felt when she saw the too familiar
yellow raincoat and hat that he was wearing when apprehended.
I'll leave his wikipedia page in the description for anyone who's curious.
When I was 19 I worked for a company that allocated labour to rural areas of Australia.
Basically what you did was tell them when you were available, and they'd send you to
a remote farm for a few weeks where you'd do whatever they needed done. It was hard
work and long hours, but good pay and good fun if you got in with a nice group of workers.
When this occurred, I was working on a large property (I was told it covered roughly the
same landmass as the state of Maryland USA) about 9 hours from Sydney city, and the property
itself was about 40 minutes from the nearest town. In short, it was the middle of nowhere.
I was working at the farm clearing bushland with 3 other guys my age from the city, our
boss was a guy called Jeremy who owned the farm and supervised us while helping out with
the work. He was pretty laid back, and was generally really good to us. This summer in
particular was very hot, and the work was hard, so one day when the temperature hit
about 38 degrees Celsius (about 100 Fahrenheit) Jeremy decided to give us the afternoon off.
He said he knew of a water hole on the farm about a 25 minute drive north, I was keen
for a swim but the other guys just wanted to relax for the arvo, so him and I hopped
in one of the work trucks and started heading across the property. It was mostly wide, empty
expanses with a few clumps of scattered bushland. Jeremy wasn't much of a talker, so we drove
more or less in silence. After about 20 minutes however, he suddenly perked up and jabbed
me in the ribs; "do you see that over there... beneath the
two dead trees?" I should mention here that if you're not familiar
with inland areas, particularly those in Australia, they are brown or red, and mostly flat and
bland, meaning any bright colours stick out like a sore thumb, so you can imagine our
surprise when we could see a large blue angular structure far off in the distance. We steered
in it's direction, and as we got closer we realised it was a huge blue shipping container
just sitting in the middle of nowhere. Jeremy was perplexed, I asked him if he knew what
it was but he obviously didn't. He said he hadn't seen it when he drove through the same
area about 5 weeks before, and he wanted to go and see what it was.
Initially we pulled to a stop about 100 meters away from it. At this stage I had a really
bad feeling, the whole thing wasn't right, its hard to explain, but if you can imagine
seeing such a foreign object in the middle of a huge barren expanse, it had to be something
weird. Jeremy however wanted to investigate, which I understood, given it was his property,
but in truth I was really anxious. As we got closer, things got even more bizarre.
There was a big diesel generator behind it thumping away, and a CCTV camera on each side,
all motion activated so they buzzed from side to side, following us as we moved around.
I tried to reason with Jeremy, something along the lines of "with all this security, someone
obviously doesn't want us here, lets just go". He brushed me off however, reminding
me it was his farm and whoever had put this here was trespassing, so he wanted to go inside.
Despite all the surveillance, there was only a small padlock on the huge door. We had some
bolt-cutters in his toolbox, and after a bit of a struggle, we broke the lock and went
inside. The first thing I noticed was the rush of
cold air as we got in, the place was air-conditioned, which I must admit was quite pleasant on such
a hot day. We searched around for a light switch, but I could already see this was some
sort of I.T set up, there were flashing LEDs all around the place and the sort of hum you
hear when a hard drive is working hard. When we finally switched on the lights, we could
see a sophisticated (albeit somewhat cluttered) office set up. There were hard drives the
size of bar fridges and other computer equipment lining the walls, sometimes piled 2 or 3 high,
and plastic storage boxes scatter around the far wall, and several desks with computer
monitors arranged in the middle, complete with rolling office chairs.
At this stage I felt like I was in one of those nonsensical dreams, this made absolutely
no sense. We wandered to the middle and sat down at the desks to see if the computers
could give us any idea of what the hell was going on here. My heart was racing and I just
wanted to bolt, we had been seen by the CCTV, so if anyone was monitoring they already knew
we were here. Jeremy on the other was adamant we had to get to the bottom of this, so I
put on a brave face and started looking through the computer. This went on for a while, but
in short neither of us had a very high grasp of technology outside of Facebook and Microsoft
Word. The best I can describe it from my lay position is that it was endless lists of "computer
talk", it was like the old Napster or Limewire download screens looked like, just constantly
picking up and receiving data then recording it on several windows.
I gave up on the computers and walked cautiously over the far end of the container to the big
pile of storage boxes. By then I was pretty sure no-one else was there as there was nowhere
to hide really, but I was still incredibly on edge. I decided, against my better judgment
to see what was inside all these boxes. My brief sift through this box still makes me
feel sick to the stomach. It didn't take long for me to realise that
the this box was full of posters, DVDs and photos, all of hard core child pornography.
One thing that still gets to me is that it was all neatly ordered in to folders and smaller
boxes… These people were organised. I immediately recoiled, jumped up and ran over to Jeremy.
I could hardly string a sentence together, I said something to the effect of "mate, get
out, child sex, go, get the fuck up!". I dragged him out, composed myself and managed to explain
what I saw. We jumped back in to the truck and sped back
to the house. The farm had no mobile phone reception, and we hadn't bought the satellite
phone so we had to get back to the landline to call the police. Once we called them they
still had to make it all the way to the farm from the nearest police station, which was
in a town about a half hour from the town closest to the farm (as I mentioned, very
remote). We waited, talking frantically about what we'd seen, until the cops arrived almost
an hour later. They arrived with 2 four wheel drives, and we jumped in and led them back.
This is where it gets worse… By the time we got back, the container door
was open and there was fire inside. We had only two small extinguishers in the cars,
and these did very little. The fire department took an hour to get there, by which stage
most of the damage was already done. An arson report by the federal police found almost
no evidence of the computer equipment described, and only traces of paper and cardboard. This
means that whoever ran it, knew we were there and had time to come and remove most of it
and get away. There were various ways to get off the property and the landmass was huge,
so there was no real way to tail them. Since the police hadn't taken us all too seriously
in the first instance, probably due to our poor explanation on the phone, aerial surveillance
was also impossible by the time we had pieced it all together.
I took a keen interest in following it up, but with no real evidence of who might be
responsible, the investigation went cold. I've kept in contact with Jeremy, and the
shipping container is still sitting there on the farm, as its too expensive to move.
I'll never forget what I saw in those boxes.
To give some background information, this event occurred a little over a year ago, and
I still haven't been able to even begin to get over it. I'm a 22 year old 5'4
female, and at the time I was 21. My family and I had recently moved to a new town that
was a fair amount more rural than the town I had previously lived in, and our new house
was a large ranch-style house with a basement. I was home from college, and my parents had
left for the week to celebrate their wedding anniversary with their friends who lived several
hours away.
Before I continue, I'll give a quick layout of the house so that you'll be able to imagine
the setting a bit more clearly. There were 3 doors which led into the house. One on the
front porch, a sliding glass door on the back porch (which did have a lock and floor-length
curtains for privacy), and another door on the other side of the wall from my bedroom
which led into the garage and basement. When you walk out of my bedroom and turn, you can
see all the way across the house (kitchen, living room, dining area) to the door of my
parents bedroom and the stairs leading up from the basement.
It had been a few days since my parents left, and I hadn't had any problems. They had
sent me a couple messages on Facebook letting me know that they arrived to their friend's
house safely, and were having a good time. The day had gone well, and I was sure to check
that I'd locked all the doors of the house once the sun started to go down.
It was about 11pm and I was doing my nightly routine of laying in bed and messing around
on the computer when I suddenly got this sinking feeling of dread. I felt as if I was being
watched. It was summer and we didn't have A/C, so I had a large box fan in the window
blowing the cool night air into my stiflingly hot room. But once that feeling settled over
me, I decided that I should remove the fan and close the window, just in case.
Once removing the fan, shutting and locking the window, and pulling down the curtain I
felt a bit better. However, I still couldn't shake the feeling of dread. I lay back in
bed and tried to continue what I was doing, though I didn't put my headphones back on.
After a few minutes, I began to hear something that sounded like light scratching.
I sat still in bed, listening to the sound, trying to pinpoint what it was and if I recognized
it at all. Our new house, although relatively close in distance to our neighbors, had a
fair amount of forest around it. So, I thought the scratching may have been an animal, or
someone's dog that got loose and wanted to come inside. After a few minutes the scratching
stopped, and everything returned to silence. So, I figured that I was probably right and
that it must have been an animal. My relief was short-lived, as soon after the scratching
stopped, from the other side of the wall I began to hear slow footsteps descending into
the basement.
This is when I knew I was completely fucked. There was no way I could get out of the house
without walking past the basement stairs. We didn't have a house phone, and at the
time I was in the process of getting a new cell-phone because mine was broken beyond
repair. I sat there for a few seconds wondering what the hell I should do. I knew that I would
need to get out of the house as soon as possible, and that the more time I wasted the worse
it would be for me.
I contemplated popping the screen out of my bedroom window and jumping out, but it was
far enough off the ground that there was a good chance I would end up getting hurt if
I did. Not to mention that if I jumped out the window and hurt myself, I wouldn't be
able to run for help and I would be right next to the door that whoever was in my house
had gone in through.
So, I decided to very carefully and quietly open my door and peek out around the corner,
and if the coast was clear, I would make a mad dash for the front door and sprint to
my neighbors house. I very slowly opened my bedroom door, letting my eyes adjust to the
darkness of the house before creeping around the corner and looking to see if I was safe
to make a run for it.
What I saw nearly made me vomit.
As my eyes scanned the house, I noticed that something was off. I squinted hard as I looked
over at the basement stairs, and was able to make out the shape of a man. What made
it worse? He wasn't just standing at the top of the stairs, he was fucking crawling
up them like some kind of nightmare creature. I quickly backed into my room again, shutting
and locking the door as quietly as I could. I didn't think he'd seen me, but there
was no way that I was going to make a run for it now. My only choice was to pop the
screen and jump out the window.
As I was unlocking and opening my window, I heard the handle to my bedroom door turn.
Once the man realized that it was locked, in a sickeningly sweet "sing-song" voice
he cooed, "I know you're in there…" This was followed by a loud cackle and what
I can only imagine was him throwing himself at full force against my door.
I ripped the screen out of the window and flung myself out.
I landed wrong on my right foot, and I was sure that I'd hurt my ankle, but at the
time I couldn't think of anything other than getting as far away as possible. I got
up and ran as fast as I could to my neighbor's house, knocking on their door in a panicked
frenzy and ringing the bell over and over. I looked over at my house as I was yelling
for my neighbors to let me in, and I swear to fucking god, I could see the man standing
at my window… waving at me.
My neighbors finally opened the door after what felt like forever and I managed to explain
well enough what was going on for them to let me in and call the police. I stayed with
them until the police arrived. The police searched my house and found that the lock
to the basement had been picked, and that the door to my bedroom was hanging off the
hinges. They weren't able to find the man anywhere, and because I had only seen him
for a split second in the dark, I couldn't provide them with a good description of him.
Of course, I got into contact with my parents immediately and they hurried home. The police
took my statement and searched the area for the man, but of course they came up with nothing.
After this event, my parents and I were sure to add deadbolt locks to the door leading
into the basement and to the door leading out of the basement to the rest of the house,
they also helped me pay to get a new phone. What really bothers me about all of this is
that nothing was stolen, there wasn't even any evidence that the guy had looked through
anything while he'd been in my house.
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