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Thread: Top 15 Nightmare Causing TRUE Scary Stories

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    Top 15 Nightmare Causing TRUE Scary Stories

    Big thanks to the narrator, Corpse Husband, check out his channel for more scary stories:

    Read along:
    All of these stories are from

    15. A week or so before my 10th birthday, I walked to the corner store with a $5 bill and picked up a jar of Ragu for my mom. On my way home, a man I'd never seen before fell in step with me and began talking.
    "Hi!" he said, cheerfully. "My name is Dr. Ramsey. I'm a pediatrician. Do you know what a pediatrician is?"
    I walked along silently, not replying and fervently hoping he would take that as a sign he should leave me alone. Subtleties were not his strong suit, though, because he kept right on chattering.
    "Are your parents looking for a pediatrician for you? Of course, you're almost a big girl now, you'll be needing another kind of doctor soon, won't you? That's okay though. They can still bring you to me until then. What's your name? You have beautiful hair. I was just on my way to get some suckers for the candy jar in my office. Do you like suckers?"
    Thankfully, we were nearing my house, so I ran forward, up the back steps and into through the kitchen door. I didn't know it then, but that was the beginning of a very long, very scary ordeal. It didn't take long after that for "Dr. Ramsey" to begin showing up. At first, it seemed benign least to a kid. He would drive by nearly every day, smiling and waving. I told my mom, who said maybe it was on his way home from work. But then, the phone calls began.
    My dad called me into the living room, and sat me down. He asked about the day Dr. Ramsey followed me home, and if I talked to him. He said I wasn't in trouble, but that I needed to tell him the truth. I told him know, and he asked if I was sure...could I be forgetting something? I told him know again, and he frowned, then asked "Then how does he know your name?" I didn't know.
    It turns out, that was not all he knew. He knew my sister's name as well. Pretty soon, neither my sister or I were allowed to answer the phone. He called several times a day; at first, neither of us knew what he was saying. Then, one night, one of my brothers told us that he was telling my parents that he was going to hurt me (and later, my sister).
    Things got complicated after that. My dad had called the police, but as this was before there were any stalking laws, there was not a lot they could do. They told my parents to call back if he "tried anything". My dad then called a friend of his from back in the day, who happened to be a cop. For the next month, my dad's friend escorted me to and from school. Suddenly, life as I knew it came screeching to a halt. I couldn't walk to school alone, I couldn't play outside, I couldn't walk to SuperAmerica (sort of like a 7-11 for those who don't know).
    When access to me was completely denied, things escalated. It was around this time he began threatening my sister as well. Then one afternoon my sister, two of my brothers, my mom and I were in the kitchen. One of my brothers saw a glimpse of someone in the garage; they'd seen him too. Dr. Ramsey came bolting out of the garage, my brothers chasing after him. They ran all the way to Cherokee Park, where he lost them in the trees. My parents called the police again, but nothing came of it. The only information they had was a description and a name that was almost certainly fake.
    A couple weeks later, we woke to find our dog hanging from the side porch. She was a gorgeous saddle-back German shepherd, born the same day I was. We were all devastated. The cops said there was no evidence it was him, and ruled it accidental, but none of us believed that.
    His phone calls became more informative in the meantime. He would talk about who was home, and who wasn't. If my brother would say my dad was home, he would tell him who was really in the house. He also would talk about the house itself...about the window in the kitchen he could easily open with a knife from the outside even when it was locked, and about the french doors that connected the living room to the side porch and how the lock could be finagled from the outside if you jiggled it just right. That night, my dad put in some carpenter nails at the bottom of the french doors until he could get a new lock ordered.
    My parents had to go to a company event for my dad's work. My older brothers were at Saints West roller skating rink. My sister was on the phone with her best friend. My little brother was on the floor asleep. I was watching Devo on the Midnight Special with Wolfman Jack. It was late. Suddenly, the top of the french doors swung inward, and in the few miliseconds before the nails in the bottom caused them to snap back, I could see his silhouette. My sister whipped the phone at the television, and we ran up the stairs. About halfway up, we realized our little brother was still asleep on the living room floor. As quietly as we could, we slipped back down the stairs to get him. We all went into our bedroom and didn't turn on the light; this way we could see outside. We watched out the window for a while, and when we didn't find him, we crept down the hall to our brothers' room to look. We looked down and could see someone standing at the backdoor. He knocked, loudly.
    "What do you want?" my sister asked out the window. He stepped back and said "Is this the Mercy residence? I have a pizza for delivery. Can you come to the door?" She scoffed at him, declaring she was not stupid, she could see he didn't have a pizza, and she was calling the cops. He left.
    A short while later, my brothers returned home. We told them what happened and they walked around the yard, watching for him. They came back in, and things settled down. By now we'd pretty much given up calling the cops because it never helped, so we just went back in, each of us (except my youngest brother, still asleep) carrying a knife from the kitchen "just in case". Eventually, one of my brothers went into the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal as a snack.
    You know that sensation you get when you can just feel someone watching you? Yeah, he had that in spades. He kept looking around the kitchen, through the doorway into the dining room, at the windows. He didn't see anything, but he could still feel eyes on him, so he went closer to the door to try to see better. The kitchen lights were reflecting on the windows of the door (it had 3 rows of 3 windows), so he still couldn't see. He stepped closer, then closer again, until he was right up to the door, then cupped his hands on either side of his head so he could see. There on the other side of the window pane was Dr. Ramsey, smiling back at him. He turned to yell for my older brothers, and when he looked back again, he was gone. They went out again to look for him, but didn't see him.
    The next night we were at the table playing crazy 8's, and my brother was restless. My sister asked him what's wrong, and he said he always felt like any minute now there would be a 'boom boom boom!' on a door or window. Almost immediately after he finished his sentence, "BOOM BOOM BOOM!" on the window right behind him. In the chaos, the two eldest ran out, but he was already gone.
    A couple of weeks later, I was at school and we were outside on the playground during recess. I was swinging upside down when I saw that now-familiar blue Ford Galaxy cruising by, moving slowly. There he was, smiling and waving. He called my name, and I ran to the teacher and told her. The school had been told all about him, and she took me inside right away and called my mom. That same day my mom had gotten a call from the school office asking her to verify that my dad was picking me up, as he'd called to say he was on his way. He wasn't.
    Not long after that, I woke up one night, thirsty. I went down to the kitchen for a drink and there, sitting alone in the dark, was my dad. On the table, a gun. He was tired of the the police waiting until Dr. Ramsey "tried something", he was tired of his children being terrorized, he was tired of being afraid every time he left for work that something would happen to us while he was gone. I sat with him for a time, watching, before he sent me back to bed.
    These events, and many more, took place over a period of around 18 months. Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over. He had vanished from our lives; the phone calls, the drive-by with the creepy waves, everything. For a long time, during and after the Dr. Ramsey days, I would have a recurring nightmare in which I would wake up to find him standing over me as I slept. It took a long time before I felt like a kid again.
    I found out years later that when he was calling, Dr. Ramsey would tell my parents that he was going to rape and kill me, and later my sister...and that there was nothing they could do about it. I don't know what happened to him when he disappeared. I don't know if he was in a car wreck, locked in prison, in a coma...but sometimes I wonder if the wait ended for my dad when he was sitting in the darkened kitchen one night. I don't know, and I'm not sure I want to.


    14. Amanda is my brother's girlfriend. At the time of this story, she was looking for her first apartment and moving out from her parents' house. Her and my brother didn't want to move in together since they had only dated for a few months. She opted instead to search for a roommate online. Browsing Craigslist, she found an ad titled something like "Roommate Wanted: Females Only." This sort of thing was common since the area she was looking in was mostly young professionals.

    The listing was for a room in a house for about $225 a month, which was quite cheap compared to the most places listed. The occupant listed herself as a 23 year old college student that wasn't comfortable with living with any males. The other roommate would have their own room and attached bathroom. So far, Amanda was into this place. However, the listing only had a single photo from outside the property. Amanda sent an email wanting to meet the occupant and tour the house. Within 30 minutes, she receives an email back with all the details and time to stop by. The girl worked late hours and wanted Amanda to stop by at 8pm.
    When Amanda arrives, there is a handwritten note on the front door saying "Door broken, use back door." Walking around the house, it looks nice but slightly unkempt: tall grass, weeds, dusty windows, etc. Still no alarms for Amanda though. When she knocks on the backdoor and an older man opens the door. At first Amanda thinks she has the wrong house but the man reassures her and says that the occupant (I forget the name) was out and he was the landlord. The occupant asked him to meet Amanda since she was working late. He seemed pleasant and offered to show her around.
    Alarms start going off but aren't at red alert yet. First, the guy was clearly in his 40's, unshaven, and looked like he lived in his car. Also, only the kitchen light was on. As they walked around the house, Amanda noticed one huge red flag: No furniture. Nothing. The landlord was polite about answering questions but seemed irritable to keeping lights on for too long, rushing her around and only letting her look at rooms for a few moments. There was a single room that the landlord wouldn't open, telling her that it was the occupant's room and he didn't want to invade her privacy. As they walk down the hallway into the living room, she notices the front door has a plank nailed across it. "Broken" for sure.
    Amanda's creep-o-meter is started to ding so she decides to wrap up the walk-through and leave but trying to polite. As she's giving the guy her "thanks for the showing" bit, he perks up and states that he forgot to show her the basement. It's recently furnished and would be a great rec room...and she should take a look down there. At the time, Amanda and the landlord are standing in the small hallway between the front living room and the back kitchen. In this little hallway was the basement door. When he opens the door, it opens outward to create something of a barrier between Amanda and the backdoor. The basement is pitch black. He smiles, motions down the stairs, and says "Ladies first."
    What happens next is nothing more than a stroke of luck. Amanda get a text just as some random person parks in front of the house. Thinking on her feet, she pretends it's a phone call and answers her phone. "Hey! Yeah, are you here? I'll come out from around back and let you in. It's great, you have to see it." With a motion of confidence, she excuses herself around the landlord and walks out of the back door. She says the guy just looked at her like he was confused. Once outside, she sprinted to her car and sped like hell out of there.
    When Amanda got home, she told her mother and my brother everything. Cops were called, they took her statement, and went to investigate. The Craigslist post had been removed.


    13. This is less of a creepy one person encounter, and more a whole community creeped out by one man.

    The neighbor in question is somewhat famous for his lawn, an impossibly thick green landscape that he had tended by a company. I've vaguely been aware of him losing it on the landscapers, screaming at them outside. Enough I knew he had a temper.
    The first real red flag that he might be legit crazy came last summer. He asked a teenage boy in the neighborhood to check in on the house once a day and make sure all the doors and windows were secured, and water their flowers. The day they left though, he left a crazy list, saying the kid had to be there multiple times a day, turning off and on different sets of lights at specific times, and leaving weird chores for him. Also, the kid was not allowed to walk on the lawn, and had to remove his "dirty shoes" before walking on the concrete sidewalk. He was never to enter the house, but was to turn off and on the lights from the doorway by means of a stick with a loop on it. Also, he was not allowed to use the garden hose to water the lawn, and had to instead use a teeny tiny watering can. The letter implied that my neighbor would have the kid under surveillance and would have pictures if he failed to comply.
    Basically, the kid's parents called him and said they weren't comfortable with the situation anymore and while they would keep an eye on the house, the deal was off. They argued over the phone.
    When my neighbor got back from vacation, it was early morning, and he immediately went to their house, woke them and tried to pick a fight with them. One of the other neighbors is a retired cop, and came out to see what was going on, and tried to settle the issue. Crazy neighbor said that he would let it rest if he was allowed to "bare ass spank" the kid. He flipped out when they told him hell no.
    Sometime after this, another neighbor was at the grocery store when he was cornered by crazy neighbor. Crazy neighbor apparently just talked at him in rapid fire for a half hour. Among other things, he started saying how wives shouldn't have friends, and said that his wife's sister was so fat she broke the toilet seat last time she visited.
    After this, everyone started talking about how you don't see his wife anywhere. Occasionally she will be out watering flowers, but while her husband is seen out, she isn't. Considering that she used to be a social butterfly, this is weird.
    During the winter, everyone found pamphlets on their mailbox from the landscaper he uses, along with a note saying it was mandatory to now use this landscaper in our area, and failure to comply will result in being sued. (We are private, single family homes with no home owners association, so this is patently untrue)
    During the winter, someone saw his wife, and her arm was in a sling and she had a black eye. When they went to ask her about it, he wouldn't let her speak and said she had slid on ice. Since then, there have been a few attempts made to talk to her alone, and all have failed. They've gone so far as to get their church involved and to call a welfare check by the cops when he was out if house. But if she is being abused, she has been refusing help.
    Snow was bad this year and he blew a fit about the snow plows piling snow on his property, so he scattered screws on the roadway outside before they came by one morning.
    Then someone in the neighborhood got a puppy. It's quiet, and has a fenced in backyard. It's owners wake up middle of the night to the doorbell ringing. When they come out, crazy neighbor is standing on the road at the edge of the property. He tells them that the first time the dog gets out, they won't have a dog anymore, and pulls out a gun and waves it around, before pointing it towards the backyard and saying "bang".
    Obviously, they go back inside and call the cops. When confronted, crazy neighbor claims he was out for a walk, thought they were awake, and stopped by. He says he didn't get the gun out, but it had been on his belt, and that he didn't mean his statement as a threat. He got some sort of citation from the police.
    Come spring, he has taken to sitting outside and writing something every time someone walks or drives by. We don't know what, but I have taken to driving differently home to avoid going by him.
    Most recently, someone put up a swing set in their back yard. They came back from work to find tire tracks through the backyard and the swing set run over and crushed. No one saw anything, but his massive truck happens to have the same kind of tires as the tread arks left behind.
    The retired cop has taken to compiling statements from everyone and keeping records, because we think this is gonna end badly….


    12. If you ever want to hear some of the most fucked up stories you'll ever find in your life, just ask the regular graveyard guy at your local all-night convenience store for some of the **** he's seen. And, dear god, man, bring some popcorn. In my life I've been the graveyard guy for not one, not two but three different 7-Eleven locations, and I'm going to bring the bulk of my horror stories to you lovely people. This one is about a gentleman named Richard.

    Working the graveyard shift, I was the lone employee from just after 10:00 at night to just before 6:00 in the morning. Not only that, but the next nearest all-night anything was another convenience store over two miles away, that from my store you could just barely see the light pollution of their neon. This set-up alone made for many interesting happenings, and tonight it was a Saturday night going into Sunday morning, just after 4:00, when a middle-age (give or take) male with thick glasses and week old stubble walked in.
    He wasn't unpleasant at first; he made small-talk as he walked through the store (sometimes to me, sometimes to no one in particular), he mentioned things about the weather, he asked about the hot dogs and taquitos on the grill, it was what it was at first. But then the comments started slipping in, minor vulgarities and weird things. After walking about the store for a good twenty minutes he comes up to the register to check out... without... anything... to actually buy. I asked if he needed help with anything and he asked me... what I knew about the Anti-Christ.
    :::exhales::: All right, well.... "I know enough, I guess. I was raised Catholic, so I know quite a bit on the subject, I guess." And so... he stares at me. Eyes wide, mouth pursed, I wasn't sure if he was about to bite me on the face or kiss me on the lips and not being able to tell the difference made me uneasy.
    The Man: "I should get a hot dog." Me: "Al.. all right, which one?" The Man: "One of the big ones. I want to enjoy it. There'll be no more hot dogs once the Anti-Christ comes."
    It sounds like a ridiculous statement... okay, it IS a ridiculous statement, but when said with genuine menace it becomes a thinly-veiled harbinger of doom. I did my best to ignore it, got his bread and his hot dog and handed it over to him. He walked around to the condiment bar and he continued...
    The Man: "You have onions." Me: "....yuh huh." The Man: "I love onions." :::longer than necessary pause::: Me: "...yuh... huh. Many people do." The Man: "They better enjoy them. There'll be no more onions once the Anti-Christ comes."
    There's really no way to respond to this, so I try to go back about my work. But even as I walk, as I stock cigarettes and start my nightly count I can feel him watching every move that I make. He comes up to the register with his hot dog, pays, and I hope to hell we're done here.
    Me: "Thanks for coming. You have a good night." And I turn my back. The Man: "Can I eat this here?" Me: "Probably not a good idea, the manager comes in at about 5:30 and he doesn't like it if anyone's hanging out here. Stuff to do, you know?" The Man: "I'm not worried about him."
    The **** part about this is that I was actually partially lying; the manager James, my boss and a really awesome guy, did arrive somewhere between 5:30 and 5:45 every morning... Monday through Friday. But he avoided the place like the plague on the weekends. I was trying to sell something that I knew wouldn't fly if this guy actually stuck around long enough for no one to show up. And now he was telling me he wasn't concerned about someone else showing up.
    Saturday nights are a busy time for convenience stores, but after about 3:30 they become a ghost town, and it was just me and this guy for one extended uninterrupted fucked up conversation after another: I'd try to walk to stock cups, lids and straws and he'd pop up right behind me, "There'll be no cups and straws when the Anti-Christ comes." I arrange the beer and the coffee, "There'll be no more coffee when the Anti-Christ comes." I realize it sounds like a joke but his panicked eyes and horribly hinting smile made it clear... he was dead serious in everything he said.
    5:00 rolls around. "Well, you should probably get going! Don't want that boss man getting mad at me now." The Man: "He won't get mad at you." Me: "It's just he... he doesn't like people hanging out." The Man: "We're just talking. Talking about the Bible." He said this so sickly sweet it made my stomach churn. Me: "Yeah, but still, he's going to be in here soon." The Man: "I'm not worried about him. I need milk."
    I... okay. I point to the display case. He walks back, grabs a thing of milk slowly and robotically and inspects the carton all the way back to the register, "I love milk," he says. Me: "Oh, really?" The Man: "Yup. But there'll be no more milk when the Anti-Christ comes. The devil won't allow that. It's holy sustenance." All right, so at this point I'm sizing the guy up. He's about '5"9 and I'm about '6"4 and I've got at least a hundred pounds on him, so if things go south I think I can get a few good knocks in before he pulls out my liver and puts it on his head.
    5:10 - "Should really probably get going." The Man: "Jesus loves all of his children." 5:15 - "Boss is going to be here soon." The Man: "I'm not worried about him." 5:20 - "Is there anything else you need?" The Man: "The devil is real, [my full name]."
    This is where two things happen that if I hadn't lived through it I would have called "bullshit" to the person telling the story. At 5:30, for the first time in the almost two years I'd worked there, my boss James comes walking into the store on a Sunday morning. He fucking managed to un-bluff my bluff with this guy. Secondly... and this is the jaw-droppingly hilarious part for me... James had been to the beach on Saturday. James had fallen asleep at the beach on Saturday. James had shaved his head fresh before going to the beach on Saturday. In other words, just as I told him he would, my boss came walking in at 5:30 on the dot... with a completely shaved head, his long dark goatee, and bright... red... skin.
    Me (to James): "What the **** are you doing here?"
    James: "I honestly have no idea. (He looks at the guy.) Who's this?" I didn't answer. I looked at James, I looked at the guy and back at James. He looks at the guy. James (to the guy): "Let's go outside and chat, friend!"
    Less than ten minutes later the guy was walking off and James came back into the store, "So, how are you?" Me: "The **** was all that about?" James: "Oh, Richard? Well, he started telling me about Jesus. I started telling him about witchcraft. He said the Anti-Christ was coming. I said I WAS the Anti-Christ. Overloaded his circuits. He left." I love James.
    I wish this is where the story ended but... about three months later I'm outside of my store and smoking a cigarette with a few regular customers of mine, just chatting away. Somewhere in the distance I hear, "Jesus, Lord God, help me!" I perk up but the people I'm with don't seem to notice.
    "Jesus, please, I know you can help me!" It's closer now, and I actually say, "Oh, please don't be Richard." "Jesus! Jesus CHRIST, come down from heaven and save me!" "Please, oh please, don't be Richard."
    Sure enough, barreling around the side of the building and heading in my direction is a panicked, screaming, sweaty Richard... covered in his own blood. The people I'm with ask the appropriate question of "DUDE, IS HE FUCKING COVERED IN BLOOD?!" I - on the other hand - had only one thought on my mind, and I repeated it over and over again... DON'TGOINTHESTORE, DON'TGOINTHESTORE, DON'TGOINTHESTORE, DON'TGOINTHESTORE, DON'TGOINTHE- "GODDAMNIT!" I crush my cigarette out and run into the store.
    In the few seconds he's been in there I now have blood all over the doors, the floors, the rugs and the counter tops. "Jesus Christ, please fucking come down and save me!" I grab him some towels and toss them in his general direction, trying to get an idea of the nature of his wounds while dialing 9-1-1. Now, I can't be sure because I can't say as I've seen it before... but it looks quite possibly... like he tried to crucify himself. All right then...
    9-1-1: "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" Me: "I have a gentleman in my store who is injured, screaming profanities, yelling about Jesus and is covered in his own blood." 9-1-1: "....what?" Me: "His name is Richard and I don't know how badly he's hurt but... yeah." I hear her typing, she asks the store name, the address, etc. 9-1-1: "All right, and you said that he's screaming profanities?" Richard (who can't hear her): "FUUUUUUUCK!" Me: "....did you happen to hear that?" 9-1-1: "Yes. Yes, I did. And you said he's talking about Jesus?" Richard (who STILL can't hear her): "JESUS CHRIST, MY LORD AND SAVIOR, ****, PLEASE FUCKING COME AND SAVE ME!" Me: "....did you happen to hear that?" 9-1-1: "Yes. Yes, I did."
    And then Richard, in all his glory, does the one thing that makes any convenience store clerk go aggro, especially one on graveyard. I turn away from him to give the operator the store incident , and when I turn back around Richard is now behind me... BEHIND the register. I drop the phone, "Richard, I don't give a **** what's wrong with you, if you don't get out from behind my fucking counter I will hang up with 9-1-1 and let you bleed to death right here in my fucking store!" But the confrontation didn't last long. Before he could respond there were four XXPD officers with me. I thanked the 9-1-1 operator, hung up and left the area.
    Richard was handcuffed inside of an ambulance and even the officers said it appeared he tried to do something harmful with religious significance. I thanked them for coming so quickly and we laughed about the strangeness of it all. And then I ask a question I wish I hadn't.
    Me: "So... who cleans up all this blood?" Lead Officer: "Uh... that'd be you.”

    -Deleted Reddit Account

    11. Junior year of high school my parents got a job offer out of state and so I was forced to move all across the country. I started a new school late into the academic year (mid March) and had a hard time fitting into the new school. All I wanted was to make a friend. But was too shy to talk to anyone.
    It was around this time that my friends left Myspace to join Facebook so I did the same to keep close to them. Some days later I receive a friend request from David. David was a guy that I had been friends with in my old town. Well... he wasn't exactly my friend, but rather the friend of another friend. My friend Jerry had introduced him to the group and would bring him along every time all of us hung out. We knew that David was a year older than us and that he had gone to a different school, but other than that we didn't really know anything about him. In fact, we kinda always just referred to him as Jerry's friend because he never even bothered to talk to any of us.
    So when I received a friend request from him on Facebook I was more than confused. He had hardly spoken to me when I had lived near him so for him to want to be friends with me after all of this time just seemed a little strange. But I was so lonely and desperate for friends that I didn't care.
    Other than that nothing really seemed off about him. At least not at the time. Looking back I do remember that he hardly had any pictures/friends when I first accepted his request, but like I said: this was around the time that people had just started using Facebook so it didn't seem all that weird for him to have such a barren profile. And over the years his friend list got a lot bigger (even more so than mine) so I didn't really think anything of it.
    But anyway. I digress. I accepted his friend request and it was just like this that David and I became friends. He told me that he just started university and that he was lonely because he was too shy to make friends. I told him that I was having a hard time in my new school for the same reasons and we bonded over that. Little by little we started talking more. He shared his problems with me and I shared mine with him. And when it was time for me to apply to university he even helped me out. He taught me how to sign up for my SATs/ACTs helped me apply to scholarships and even paid for one of my application fees (using a visa gift card so I didn't receive any of his personal information, and he didn't receive any of mine.)
    Then when I finally started university he helped with that as well. He told me where to buy books, gave me studying tips, provided emotional support. So when he asked for my phone I didn't even hesitate to give it to him. David was my best friend and I wanted to keep him close even if we were physically away from each other.
    It was around this time that David started sharing more of his life with me. And all of it was pretty normal stuff. He had a job at Pizza Hut, which he hated but needed to keep in order to pay for bills. He also played soccer but not for his university or anything, it was just a group of guys that got together on the weekends to unwind. I think the biggest thing he told me was that he had flunked out of university, and that I was the only one that knew because he was too embarrassed to tell anyone else. And at one point he also had to move back in with his mom, which he hated a lot.
    Two, maybe three years into our friendship my family decides to take a trip back to the city where we had lived prior to moving all across the country and I excitedly tell him and all of my old high school friends. Most of them were pretty excited about the idea of all us hanging out together again because after high school we had all just gone our different ways. But when I contacted David about it he showed little interest in hanging out with us. I thought it was weird. You know, I wasn't some stranger he had met online but rather someone who had been in his life for many years.
    I kept insisting and asking for a reason. And then he finally gave me one: he told me that his pictures had been heavily edited and that he was afraid of disappointing me if we met in real life. I told him that it didn't matter what he looked like and that I just wanted to meet him. But he still didn't want to hang out. Instead he just started being a huge dick to me. He knew exactly what buttons to push, knew all of my insecurities and secrets, and had started using all of that knowledge to hurt me. So I just stopped talking to him.
    Some weeks later I meet my friends as planned. And much to my surprise I see David there, looking just like he did on his pictures. I didn't understand why he had lied about Photoshopping his pictures, or why he had said he didn't want to meet me only for him to show at our friend's house. But I was so angry at him that I didn't ask any questions. I just kept waiting for an apology, but David wouldn't approach me. He was treating me like he treated me back when we were in high school. I was really upset, but given that he had been such a huge dick to me I just figured that this was just another attempt at getting under my skin.
    We were all drinking and talking about what we were up to. And when it was his time to share, he pretty much just said the same things I already knew about him. He said that he wished that he was still in university like the rest of us, but that he had flunked out and that he was just living with his mom. Said that he was miserable there and that he wanted to move out, but that his job at Pizza Hut wasn't paying him enough for him to move out on his own.
    At this point though I was already pretty pissed off. And the alcohol had given me enough courage to finally ask him why he had been ignoring me. He apologized, but admitted that he hardly remembered me, which hurt my feelings but also pissed me off even more. I told him about Facebook and about our text messages, and he just kept insisting that he didn't use Facebook. Apparently he had used Myspace at one point, but had stopped using that when he had switched over to Tumblr. A Facebook account was something that he hadn't even considered making. I asked him about the text messages and he just said that I had probably confused him with another David because he had never had my . I thought that denying it was a lousy excuse, but Jerry backed him, which pissed me off even more.
    The thing though was that David hadn't just been talking to me on Facebook, but also to a bunch of us. So when we kept calling him out on his **** he just told us to text this "David" guy to prove that it wasn't him. He set his phone on the table and I texted him. But no new messages appeared on his phone. Then, while we're all arguing about how we need to give it some time, the David that I had been talking to for years responds, proving that we had been talking to a fake all along.
    Things turned pretty awkward at this point with all of us feeling angry and betrayed and David obviously feeling extremely violated. So with all of us wanting answers we open up our friend's laptop and search for David's profile on Facebook.
    The first thing that David points out is that whoever this was, they were using his mother's maiden name and not his real last name. And that while most of the people on his friend list were people that he knew in real life, none of them were people that he had kept in contact with. His display picture was also of a dog which he had owned years ago, but that had since died (just like the fake David had told me.) All measures that, looking back, I'm guessing were used by this person to keep David's close friends from actually finding him on Facebook.
    The older pictures on Facebook had been taken from his Myspace back when he had still been using that. But most of the newer ones had been taken from his Tumblr, which he apparently uploaded pretty often. The weirdest thing though was there were some pictures he swore he had never seen before. These were all pictures of his soccer games taken from the audience, which the fake David had said his brother had taken (the real David said his brother never went to his games, neither did any of his family members or friends)
    Further exploring his own fake profile, David pointed out that while a bunch of status updates were of things that had never happened, a lot of them were accurate. Whoever this person was, they had been watching David for a long time, they knew his schedule, knew what movies he went, knew what ice cream flavors he liked, knew his favorite bands, knew practically everything about him.
    We did confront the fake David, but he never answered the text messages and instead deleted the profile before we had the chance to examine it any further. So we never did get any answers. I don't know why that person pretended to be David for so long or why they even did it in the first place. All I know is that I felt extremely violated for having shared so many private details of my life with him. And of course I also felt a great deal of pity for the real David.
    I wondered for the longest time how this person found him and how they managed to learn so many private details of his life. Then a few months back my mother calls me saying that she found a profile with her name, but my pictures on it (my middle name is my mom's first name, something that very few people know) She thought that I had made a second profile, and I didn't tell her the truth because I didn't want to scare her, but truth was that I didn't even know that profile existed.
    I have always kept Facebook set to private and I no longer accept random friend requests, nor do I post my pictures anywhere else. So this profile only had really old pictures of me, and nothing weird like David's soccer game pictures. But it was still active, and had been active for a while.


    10. I don't want to give a lot away about my identity but I will say that this takes place in a small town in Ontario where I grew up during seventh grade. So me and everyone in my class would have been about 12.
    Anyway, for the first part of seventh grade we had a substitute teacher, Mr.I , who was only there until the actual teacher, Mr.C , came back from sick leave (due to mental health issues, we later found out). Mr.I was great and he left after the winter break. That was when Mr.C showed up.
    He was kind of a creep from the start. He used to make a lot of little creepy remarks we would let slide, but eventually it escalated. One encounter I recall is that one day during recess, he tried to get me and a friend, Rachel, to say different words for ***** and would ask us if we were comfortable with saying things like that, etc. We decided to tell our parents and they were pissed and called the school which obviously did nothing about it because otherwise the rest of this wouldn't have taken place.
    Fast forward a couple creepy months. Me and Rachel are in the gymnasium with the rest of our class, about 20 kids. We are doing the 'gymnastics' portion of our gym program. We are halfway through class, and Rachel gets up and goes to the part of the gym where we would leave our shoes.
    So I turn around to look for her after a bit and to my surprise she is standing there across the gym in shock holding a video camera. Now at this point no one else has really noticed and I haven't even put two and two together yet, but what happened next made me clue in pretty damn fast.
    Mr.C, who was at the time lounging around the gym not really doing anything, sees Rachel with this camera. I swear to god his face went from not having a care in the world to utter horror in all of a second.
    He grabbed a soccer ball from a nearby rack, and chucked it across the room at Rachel. In front of over fucking 20 12 year old kids. It hit her dead in the side of the face.
    She dropped the camera, screamed, and ran out of the room and into the office. Me, any everyone else in the class also ran out of the room in pursuit of her before Mr.C could do who the **** knows what else. He grabbed his camera and ran out of the school. I never saw him again.
    Rachel, who happened to live on the same street as me has friendly parents who talked to mine occasionally. We later learned they pressed charges and all that **** and he was convicted of assault on a minor and also intent to harm minors or something along those lines. He had been taping our class since he had begun teaching us. He had dozens of tapes of our gym classes. He would position the cameras in different places to capture the most revealing angles for whatever it was we would be doing that day. Needless to say we got a new teacher for the rest of the year, which was kind of awesome at least because she let us do whatever we wanted pretty much.
    In hindsight everything about him seems so menacing now. From accidentally walking in to our change rooms to extensive 'health' lessons about sex.


    9. This happened a couple years ago when I was backpacking in Australia.

    I traveled around driving a van, like many backpackers there do, as it saves a lot of money with accomodation. I usually slept in rest areas, gas stations or wherever I could park.
    This one night, I've been driving for a few hours and started to feel sleepy. I decided then to stop in the next rest area, in the middle of nowhere. Parking in that location during day time could be a great idea, but at night it seemed like a horror movie location.
    There were no cars parked there (I know, I should park where there were more people around, but I was really drowsy) and no lights whatsoever. I turned off the engine and closed the curtains of the van.
    It was not long before dawn that I heard some heavy knocking on the side of the van: "Open up, it's the police!" Nothing wakes you up faster than that. My heart was racing. I was just adjusting to the adrenaline rush in my system when they repeated the heavy knocking, saying it was the police.
    My first thought is that I parked somewhere I shouldn't, but then again, it was the middle of nowhere and it was a rest area.
    Before opening up, with my mind telling me that that situation was weird as ****, I decide to go slowly to one of the windows and look through the gap in one of the curtains.
    I could clearly see the shape/shawdow of a guy standing beside the van. His car wasn't too far, but it didn't have any lights or flashing lights on. This guy was definitely not a cop.
    Bringing up the courage I had left I just shouted: "Get the **** away! I have a gun and I'm calling the cops on the radio!" I didn't have a radio or a gun, but that seemed to faze him. I saw him getting back on his car, and - to add to the creepiness - someone came out of the bushes and also got in the car.
    They left and a few minutes after that, I turned on my van and drove in the opposite direction they went to.
    Safe to say that I never slept in another rest area that didn't have at least a couple other cars parked. I don't know what those people wanted, but with Australia's history of backpacker's serial killers, I'm very happy to be here today!


    8. About five years ago I lived downtown in a major city in the US. I've always been a night person, so I would often find myself bored after my roommate, who was decidedly not a night person, went to sleep. To pass the time, I used to go for long walks and spend the time thinking.

    I spent four years like that, walking alone at night, and never once had a reason to feel afraid. I always used to joke with my roommate that even the drug dealers in the city were polite. But all of that changed in just a few minutes of one evening.
    It was a Wednesday, somewhere between one and two in the morning, and I was walking near a police patrolled park quite a ways from my apartment. It was a quiet night, even for a week night, with very little traffic and almost no one on foot. The park, as it was most nights, was completely empty.
    I turned down a short side street in order to loop back to my apartment when I first noticed him. At the far end of the street, on my side, was the silhouette of a man, dancing. It was a strange dance, similar to a waltz, but he finished each "box" with an odd forward stride. I guess you could say he was dance-walking, headed straight for me.
    Deciding he was probably drunk, I stepped as close as I could to the road to give him the majority of the sidewalk to pass me by. The closer he got, the more I realized how gracefully he was moving. He was very tall and lanky, and wearing an old suit. He danced closer still, until I could make out his face. His eyes were open wide and wild, head tilted back slightly, looking off at the sky. His mouth was formed in a painfully wide cartoon of a smile. Between the eyes and the smile, I decided to cross the street before he danced any closer.
    I took my eyes off of him to cross the empty street. As I reached the other side, I glanced back... and then stopped dead in my tracks. He had stopped dancing and was standing with one foot in the street, perfectly parallel to me. He was facing me but still looking skyward. Smile still wide on his lips.
    I was completely and utterly unnerved by this. I started walking again, but kept my eyes on the man. He didn't move.
    Once I had put about half a block between us, I turned away from him for a moment to watch the sidewalk in front of me. The street and sidewalk ahead of me were completely empty. Still unnerved, I looked back to where he had been standing to find him gone. For the briefest of moments I felt relieved, until I noticed him. He had crossed the street, and was now slightly crouched down. I couldn't tell for sure due to the distance and the shadows, but I was certain he was facing me. I had looked away from him for no more than 10 seconds, so it was clear that he had moved fast.
    I was so shocked that I stood there for some time, staring at him. And then he started moving toward me again. He took giant, exaggerated tip toed steps, as if he were a cartoon character sneaking up on someone. Except he was moving very, very quickly.
    When I finally found my voice, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. What I meant to ask was, "What the **** do you want?!" in an angry, commanding tone. What came out was a whimper, "What the fuu…?"
    Regardless of whether or not humans can smell fear, they can certainly hear it. I heard it in my own voice, and that only made me more afraid. But he didn't react to it at all. He just stood there, smiling.
    And then, after what felt like forever, he turned around, very slowly, and started dance-walking away. Just like that. Not wanting to turn my back to him again, I just watched him go, until he was far enough away to almost be out of sight. And then I realized something. He wasn't moving away anymore, nor was he dancing. I watched in horror as the distant shape of him grew larger and larger. He was coming back my way. And this time he was running.
    I ran too.
    I ran until I was off of the side road and back onto a better lit road with sparse traffic. Looking behind me then, he was nowhere to be found. The rest of the way home, I kept glancing over my shoulder, always expecting to see his stupid smile, but he was never there.
    I lived in that city for six months after that night, and I never went out for another walk. There was something about his face that always haunted me. He didn't look drunk, he didn't look high. He looked completely and utterly insane. And that's a very, very scary thing to see.


    7. I was living with my parents and sister in Brisbane, Australia at the time (2008, which means I was 19). I remember my dad had just got Foxtel (cable TV in Australia) but only the TV in the lounge room could use the cable box, and I really wanted to somehow get the cable in my room without paying $99 or whatever for a new box. So dad one day went out and bought an AV transmitter/receiver. It was basically a two piece bit of hardware where you would plug this tiny box into the cable TV in the lounge room and it would transmit a video signal to the receiver, connected to the TV in my room. So one Saturday, I decided to connect it.

    This is a picture I took of the set up when I was telling a friend the story.
    My younger sister (16 at the time) was the only other person home at the time, upstairs in her room (my room was downstairs). I opened the box, and connected it up. At first I was going back and forth, trying to get the cables right, trying to get the channel right etc, but no luck. Until I finally got something. I remember just sitting there and something started fuzzing in (this is where things start to feel like a horror movie). I remember thinking "oh here we go" and waiting to see the picture come in clearly. As it started fuzzing in, I remembered that this whole time the cable set top box wasn't even on, and that's why it wasn't working this whole time. "But then why was I getting a signal?". It seemed to all hit me at once. As I realised the box was off, the picture fuzzed in, and I saw a bed.
    First picture I took:
    I FREAKED the **** out, as at first I thought it was my bed. I had recently seen Saw 2, and remembered that scene where she turns on the TV and its a camera filming her in her apartment. That was the first thing I thought of. I sprinted upstairs to my sister, absolutely terrified. I told her to come down and take a look. She came down and we both realized it wasn't my bed. We didn't know who's bed it was, or how I was getting the signal. Obviously it was the Av receiver picking up a camera signal, but we were just so confused as to who/what it was for?
    Eventually my parents came home, and we concluded that it would have to be a neighbor, or someone living close by, for us to be receiving the signal. We waited around until about 6pm, and then someone came into the room.
    My dad recognized it as one of our neighbors. We still didn't know what the camera was for, but we assumed it had something to do with fidelity. Either his wife or he had set it up to watch the other and see if they were cheating. Either this, or it was to tape themselves having sex. We entertained the idea that he was a murderer and would film himself murdering people in his room, but just to freak eachother out. We'd always make jokes about how one night we'll turn it on and itll just be his face with clown make up on staring at the camera waving, and then him walking out of the bedroom with a knife. This never happened. But what did happen was still super creepy.
    We connected to this signal for over a week, but after a few days the novelty kinda wore off. We felt a bit weird watching it, and just resigned to the explanation that it was to catch his wife cheating. Until one day, we turned it on, and realized what we had discovered.
    Our neighbors were having a bunch of renovations done to their house. During weekdays they would be out, and there would be workers at the place pretty much all day. It had been like this for over a month. We started watching the feed and saw a man walk into their room. It was the plumber that had been there regularly for the renovations. We didnt think anything of it, until he start opening drawers. I called out to my mum (only person home at the time) and we started watching it. He started getting the wifes underpants and sniffing them, doing all that creepy ****. At first we were like "oh my god, how embarrassing, he's being filmed. will the neighbors see this somehow?" but then what happened next what truly terrifying.
    He slowly walked over to the camera and look right down the fucking lens. We were CONVINCED that he knew we were watching. Mum immediately called dad. I kept watching. He started fiddling with it and then put it back down. I told mum that I don't think he knew we were watching, but he's definitely the guy that put the camera there. Dad came home, and by this time the plumber had left. Much to mums pleading, dad went over to the neighbors to tell them what we saw. Mum wanted to completely stay out of it and was terrified, understandably. When we told the neighbors, they had NO IDEA what we were talking about. They allowed dad to go up to their room, and what he found (that was holding the camera) was an installed device in the wall that was designed to monitor water usage (which was completely normal, at the time, as Brisbane had been hit with a drought recently and there were lots of water restrictions, still is now I think). The plumber had installed this into the wall, but had fitted a camera behind it in the wall to watch the bed.
    Immediately they called the police, who came over and conducted an investigation. For the next week or so we didn't hear much about it. I spent most of this time just telling my friends, showing them pictures, but truthfully my whole family was scared every night. It was just very creepy thinking that we could have stuff like that hidden in our house. Chances are we didn't, but it was still really scary. After a couple of weeks my mum was speaking to the wife next door and asked what happened with it all. The wife said that the police found out he would, at nights, come to our street and sit in his car (which had really tinted windows) and watch them on his laptop. When mum told me this I got the BIGGEST shivers. The reason was (besides the obvious of a creepy dude sitting his car watching people through a hidden camera) was because on multiple nights, when I had driven home late from my girlfriends or walked home drunk after a night out, I remember seeing a station wagon (don't know if thats what theyre called outside of Australia, but its like a big hatchback car) always about 30m down the street from our house. It was never there during the day, always at night. I'd always walk past it and look at my reflection in the windows, assuming no one was inside. I was always so confused by whos car it was but literally never thought it was anything.
    It still scares me so much that it was just this creepy fucking plumber sitting back in there on a laptop watching a hidden camera stream of my neighbors.


    6. This happened back when I was 15. I lived with my mother, sister and little brother in a rather dodgy area in Western Australia. While my mother did a great job of keeping us away from the more dangerous parts of our suburb 98% of the time, my brother (who was 13 at the time) and I - being the reckless kids that we were, would always try and bend the rules when we could.

    So one day my mum tells us that she's going out to the shops to get ingredients for tonight's dinner, so I would have to watch over the house. I tell her no problem; 45 minutes passed with no issue at all. After a while my little brother comes in and asks me if I'd like to go kick the football around at the park just around the corner from where our house was.
    While I can't remember the exact time, it was definitely later than 5:30 - so it was starting to get quite dark. I tell my brother that "mum would be pissed if we went", but he insists and eventually I give in and tell him to wait for me while I get changed into my sneakers, shorts e.t.c.
    After I'm done, I walk to the lounge room and realize my brother is no where to be seen. I check the front door and lo and behold it's open (I love my brother dearly but I swear some of the **** he does is just retarded). I call out to my sister (18) if she knew where the dickhead had gone to. She replies that he had said to tell me that he "was going to the park." By this point it the sun had already set and outside was quite dark (I was also shitting myself with anger).
    I tell her to watch the house and I run off into the direction of the park.
    I get there about 5 minutes later and to my surprise the park is completely empty. I call out my brother's name and tell him to cut the ****. No answer. I call it out again but this time I tell him that our mum is home and that she is 'extremely angry with the both of us and wants us to come home.' Still no answer. This is where I start to get worried - normally my brother always falls for that trick even when we're at home and does what I tell him to do.
    Suddenly I hear a faint, muffled noise coming from the left of me. I look and see a tall figure quickly move behind the large fence (covers an alleyway) that runs parallel to the park on the left side (from where I was). At this point I guess you could say that my body went into over - drive as adrenaline kicked in and I sprinted as fast as I could and went around to the other side of the fence.
    I almost choked when I saw my little brother - shorts off, mouth covered, being dragged across to the other end of the alleyway by a man that looks to be in the mid 40's - 50's with long, unruly hair.
    Now, I know a lot of people would've screamed out at this point, but for some reason (Don't ask me why) I just sprinted as hard as I could at this motherfucker. While I had tears in my eyes, more than scared for my brother I was angry, like seriously infuriated - I was going to kill this **** (sorry for the language). He must've heard me coming because he turned around to face me and dropped my younger brother. I had run about 20 metres and I was now less than half a metre away from him now. He tried to grab at me but I just kept running as hard as was possible for me and ended up knocking him over.
    He swore, and tried to get back up but I just let loose and started stomping on his face and gut. I was going to keep on going until this fucker was dead, but reason came back to me after I heard my brother begin to cry loudly.
    Without asking any questions, I picked him up and ran as fast as I could with him back to my house. At this point it was pitch - black and my mum was frantic. No doubt she was about to let loose on us however she stopped when she saw the look on both of our faces - and realized that my brother didn't have any pants on. After explaining the situation (rather terribly because the adrenaline had worn off and I was blubbering like Morgan Freeman had died), my mum gave us both the biggest hug ever and cried with us. We called the police soon after and I was asked by police officers to give details about the man's appearance - which I did as best as I could. I was lucky that I was dealing with a rather thin man, as opposed to a muscle-bound freak who liked small kids. Thankfully, my brother told me that yes - the man had come up behind him and subdued him, but had stopped taking off his clothes when he heard me call out his name.
    To this day, I am so thankful to whatever is watching over me that I didn't get there a second later and was able to successfully get my brother back. Needless to say, we moved suburbs soon after that and are now living in a steady, upper middle-class suburb up north.


    5. Okay, so this whole thing began maybe 2 months ago. At an Aunts party my sister comes up to me and says that she thinks someone has been coming into her house in the middle of the night. My sister has always been easily scared, so at first i was skeptical.

    I asked her how she knew someone had been in the house, whether she had actually seen anyone etc. She told me she hadn't seen anyone, but she said she knows for a fact someone was in her house. She then went on to explain that she has a sky box downstairs that streams to her bedroom television. The first time it happened she said she heard the TV was being used, so she turned on her TV and someone was flicking through the channels.
    I still didn't really buy what she was saying, but she did seem genuinely afraid. She claimed it had been going on for three months on and off. To put her mind at ease, i told her I'd stay at her place for a few nights and wait to see if the guy comes, I took my younger brother along just to be safe.
    In all, we stayed at her place for 4 nights. In those four nights, nothing unusual happened; me and my brother were convinced she was going crazy. Me and my brother decided we had stayed long enough and told her that we had to go home, she got extremely upset about this.
    I reassured her and told her to call the police the next time it happened. she had called the police once before about the guy and they turned up to find no one was in the house. I said she could call me any time she wanted and left for work.
    Two days later she called me at 11:30PM and claimed he was downstairs in her house right now. I asked her how she knew and she said he's walking around the house, she was whispering and crying. I knew she wasn't making this up, I could tell from her voice. I called my brother and told him to meet me at her house, I was on the phone with her the entire drive over to her place (I live 10 minutes away).
    When I got there my brother was parked up outside. We both went to the back of the house (I was still on the phone with my sister). The first floor if the house was lit solely by the TV in the living room. As we approached the patio door we saw that a man was sitting on the couch facing us. We were frozen solid and my sister noticed that we went quiet and started asking what was wrong and if we could see him.
    I told her to stay quiet and that we had it in hand, I then hung up and called the police to explain the situation. The guy hadn't moved from the couch at all. The TV turned off while we were waiting for the cops, me and my brother majorly freaked out when it happened. We couldn't see anything downstairs, then the hallway light turned on, meaning someone was on the stairs.
    We opened the patio door and ran up the stairs and caught the guy with his ear to her door. We kicked the **** out of him and got my sister out of the house, he had a knife in his coat pocket.
    The cops came maybe 10 minutes later (he could have killed her if he wanted too.) which is fucking outrageous. It turns out the guy was one of our mom's old boyfriends who had lived with us for a while in the 90's. He had always been fond of my sister but we had never suspected it to be him, he hadn't contacted any of us for nearly a decade.
    My sister has moved back in with my mom and is undergoing therapy to get over what had happened. Our 'step dad' as he liked to call himself, was given three years in prison. We are doing are best to cut all ties with the man.

    -Deleted Reddit Account

    4. I am 22 and this incident happened a year and a half ago. I had just moved into my first apartment and was in the process of moving in. The door that led into my apartment locks itself automatically when closed. So, I was going to the entrance of the apartment complex to get my mail while talking on the phone. I returned to my apartment and sat on the bed while opening the mail while using the phone, I dropped the phone on the floor and it landed under the bed so I had to lie on the floor and stretch for it. I saw something that caught my eye, there was someone under my bed... My eyes widened and I choked the urge to scream. The person under my bed was lying still with his back towards me and his head to his chest, so I couldn't see his face. And he didn't see me, trying to be rational while so many thoughts rushed through my head, I picked up the phone, said "Sorry I dropped my phone, I'm just gonna take a shower and call you back."

    The bathroom is right by my bed so I hastily walked in, quietly locked the door, turned the shower on, jumped out my window (my apartment is on the first floor) and called the police. They told me to wait nearby, but to go to across the street and see if anyone comes out the door to the apartment complex. This was during summer and it was still light out, I placed myself across the street, hiding behind a car while watching my open bathroom window and the entry door. I called my friend and he came to me just before the police. I gave them my keys and they went inside. Only moments later two cops came out holding a thin and tired looking man. His eyes looked crazy, but he didn't try to get away. The policeman that had stood beside me and comforted me while the police searched through my house (I was a mess, shivering and crying) told me that the man stood outside my bathroom door with one of my kitchen knives waiting for me to come out.
    This man had somehow crept in my entry door while I was getting my mail and hid under the bed.The man that was trying to hurt me turned out to be a homeless person and was placed in a mental hospital.


    3. Growing up in Arizona you experience a rich mix of cultures. People come here from the midwest, some people brave the desert and come from the south, and some people have been here since before this place was a state. Some say this is because Arizona has no real culture of our own that we borrow from everywhere else. This state is rich in the paranormal, many native american tales tell of demons (in white river), skin-walkers, vampires, tribes of little people who take children in the night, wendigos up north, or the always popular thunderbird. This isn't a story about all that this is the retelling of my experience with the lady in black.

    Growing up I would hear stories from my friends who are of Mexican background of La Llorona, the Lady in Black. The story is meant to keep children inside after dark and to keep them from sneaking out at night. These legends of the lady came north with the people, it seems though that she came along too. The story goes something like this: there was a beautiful lady in old Mexico. She was not from a rich family, nevertheless she caught the attention of the son of a Mexican nobleman. They fell in love, in secret they got married, not long after that she became pregnant with twins. Like all ghost stories this one ends tragically, the nobleman's son was found out. The father was so enraged that his blood line was "tainted" with the blood of a commoner that he tried to force the local bishop to grant a divorce to dissolution the marriage. Mexico was very Catholic in those days, the bishop refused. The father eventually seemed to cave in he allowed her to move into the house. She eventually gave birth to twins. One boy one girl. A year later the son of the nobleman was called off to war. He didn't return. The father became reclusive, hardly talking or eating, he grew to hate the children that would now inherit everything. The commoners marrying into his family waiting for him to die to take everything. He ordered his men to take the children to the nearest river and drown them and let their bodies be taken by the current at night so there would be no proof. The children were taken in the middle of the night without a sound. The mother was kicked out of the house the next day and later accused of killing her children. The towns folk eventually drowned the heart broken woman, she didn't put up a fight she had already died inside. Days later the Nobleman and his men were found dead in his house. Sightings started happening of a beautiful woman dressed in black roaming the streets at night crying looking for her children. If you saw her and you were a child, she would stop crying, grab you, and take you to the river where you would be drowned.
    I told you that story to tell you this one. I was out running about a month ago as I often do. I run late at night, around 10 or so. I run near the canals that are all over Phoenix. I take my American bulldog with so that no one messes with me. The path I take when I go running is very well lit and it is right next to canals and houses it always felt safe until the night I saw "her". I was running with my dog as usual, I was listening to my Ipod and tracking my milage. I started to see something in the distance about a quarter mile away. It looked like a person under one of the street lamps that light the path at night. I thought nothing of it at first because I often see people when I run. As I got closer I began to notice that this person wasn't moving. Just a silhouette under the light. The closer I got the more the silhouette started to take shape. When I was about 50 feet away from it I stopped. My first thought was that it was a homeless person or this was some sort of prank. My dog started to whimper, then growl, then whimper, then growl again, I had never seen him do that before. I looked at her, I could tell it was a woman, something about her deeply unsettled me. Then I got the feeling in my stomach that something wasn't quite right and that I needed to get out of there. I couldn't see her face, her hair was long and black, it was a covering it. She looked like she was wearing a short black dress which was odd because it was 60 degrees that night. She was tall, taller than I had first estimated, she was thin, and her arms and legs seemed to be a tad too long for her body. She was just standing under the street light. I took my head phones out because I was going to ask if she was alright. Before I could ask my ears were filled with very fast spanish being spoken in a whisper. It was raspy, the voice filled my head. She raised one long arm at me and extended her index finger. It looked more like a long tree root than a finger. I had had enough, my dog sensed my fear. I took a step back, she took a step forward. I paused for what seemed like a solid minute but it was probably a few seconds. That's when I started to hear the crying, it started off as a wail then grew into a full scream. I turned tail and ran as fast as I could to a main road. When I looked back she was gone.
    I ran back to my neighborhood along the main road. The entire time I was trying to make sense of what just happened and whether or not someone was fucking with me. The entire run home I could feel eyes on me. I entered my neighborhood; the feeling was still there. I was dreading running back to my house because there are areas that aren't well lit. I decided to sprint the last .2 miles. As I was doing this I happened to look down a cul-de-saq that had one light, at the end, yes, she was there. Her silhouette as clear as day. She had not only followed me and kept pace with me but she had also beaten to my neighborhood. My dog pulled. We made it to my front door step I opened the door ran in and slammed it.
    I took a shower and tried to forget about everything. I locked every door in the house and the door to my bedroom. My dog slept at the foot of my bed that night and I left the TV on. I drifted to sleep around 3:00 am. The next morning I woke up and discovered that somehow I had acquired a large scratch that ran down the whole of my bicep. It would eventually scar.
    A few days after that I was talking with my neighbor as I often do. I told him about what happened. He said this, "I know what that was, the best advice I can give you is to leave her alone. She marked you and will leave you alone. She marks the ones she doesn't like and takes the ones she does." He told me something similar had happened to the person who lived down the street from us, it ended up driving him crazy. He said that it all started with a picture his niece drew him. He wouldn't say anymore than that, he kept telling me to leave it be.
    I called my friend Justin after that, I couldn't let this go, how could I? I had been followed by something and was marked. This kind of thing doesn't just happen to people!. My buddy Justin's family is Mexican he also loves this sort of thing. I described what happened and asked if it was La Llorona the lady from the story. He told me that it was possible as there were many vengeful spirits like this.
    He told me the same story I wrote out above except with a few key distinctions. The lady was never pregnant, but she was beautiful. She fell in love with a nobleman's son who played with her heart promising to marry her but instead married another woman. The woman heart broken became depressed she began to see her beauty as a curse. She took a knife and disfigured her face. He told me that no one saw her face from then on because she would cover her face with her long black hair. When he told me this I thought back to my encounter and my blood turned to ice. The legend finishes that she longed for someone to love for her heart and not her beauty. This didn't happen and she eventually drowned herself. She was cursed though and now wanders looking for someone who will love her. She will never be never satisfied, her hatred has twisted her. Some people she appears to as a monster, some she appears to as a beautiful woman. Those she appears to as a beautiful woman will be driven mad with affection for her. Those are the ones she's chosen to love her. Those are the ones who can see her for her and don't see her as a monster. I got off lucky I guess.
    This should have been the end of it. This should be where the story ends. It doesn't. I became so curious I went to my neighbors who lived down the street. I had to know what became of the other man who saw her. When I knocked an old woman answered. I told her that this would sound weird but that I needed her help. I asked her about the man who used to live here, it turns out it was her Ex-husband. I cautiously asked her if she knew anything about a woman in black. She looked at me in a funny way and asked me if I had seen her. I told her I had. She gave me the same advice my neighbor had given me, to leave this alone. I told her that was no longer an option. She sighed and told me to come with her. We went into her attic she gave me two large boxes. She said that everything I wanted to know was in there. This was apparently all that her ex-husband had left in his apartment when he disappeared. She told me to read everything and that if I still wanted to look for her after that then I was a fool.
    I took the boxes home and spent a weekend going through everything. There were journals, home movies, drawings, and other things I'm still not sure about. The thing that un-nerved me the most was a drawing that looked like it had been done by a child. It was all black of a tall thin figure with long hair, long arms, and fingers that looked like roots. My stomach turned uneasily, I matched the drawing to one of the first journal entries.
    September 9, 2004 - I can't shake the feeling that I am being followed. I went on a walk again last night to see if I could find her. It seems she has found me. Macy (who I found out was his niece) drew me a picture today. She has been staying with us while my brother and his wife are in Denver. She handed me the picture and told me that the lady who lives under the stairs told her to draw it and to tell me she wasn't coming back. I have to see her again.
    This crazy guy seemed to be in love with this woman. He was obsessed with her. I will include a few more entries. Most of the journals are bogus. He kept them it seems to document this to show that he wasn't going crazy. Most of it seems to be babbling on about trying to find her.
    October 5, 2004 - I am no longer in love with my wife. Lorena, as i have come to call her, has my heart. I saw her face, she showed me her face, she is beautiful. I have be with her, I understand her. She is not a monster she is a beautiful woman.
    October 7, 2004 - She visited me in my dream last night. I never wanted to wake up. She spoke to me in a voice sweeter than honey suckle. I have decided to leave my wife.
    He did.
    December 31, 2004 - The new apartment isn't grand or glorious, but it's ours. She comes to me at night. Telling me that we will soon be together. I am going to start recording our encounters to show everyone I am not crazy. This is love, this is pure, I am happy, and she loves me.
    This is where things get really weird. He started taping himself with a video camera. I watched most of it. He kept the lights mostly off, he said she likes the darkness better. He only had on one or two lights at a time. From the looks of his new home he was living in a cheap apartment. One video in particular was set up in a bathroom, he had grown a beard by this point. in this video he took out a razor and instead of shaving with it, he removed the blade and started cutting his face with it. He took blood from his face and drew a heart on the mirror. He looked over his shoulder into the darkness and said, "i love you too." Then the whispering started. The camera cut off.
    The last tape was the weirdest by far. It starts off with him sitting down at his dining table, which was a fold down card table. He had a large smile on his face. That's all the tape showed for 3 minutes is him sitting and smiling in the dark. His eyes seemed to follow something around the room. He nodded occasionally. The light above the table eventually went out at which point the camera turned to night vision. He was still smiling. Then a shadow appeared behind him. Long root like fingers found their way down his chest until her palm found it's place on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and his smile widened. The last part of this video made my head hurt and my stomach lurch. "Mi Amor" I heard the voice say on the video before the camera shut off. They never found his body. That night I packed his stuff up the next morning I returned his things to his ex-wife. I have stopped looking for her.
    I wonder if she ever thinks about me?


    2. This happened about 5 years ago after my Fiancee and I had been living in our house for a little over a year. I am 6ft tall and about 225lbs. I have always been naturally muscular and am told I have an intimidating demeanor. My fiancee is 5'2" weighs maybe 130lbs. Tiny little thing.

    Our house is a bi-level home where you walk in the front door and there are 2 half staircases going up to the living room or down to the basement. The only access to our backyard is through the sliding glass door in the upstairs living room and down the stairs from our deck. (Important)
    During this time I partied a lot. Way more than I should have. I was between jobs and it was toward the end of the holidays so my interest in finding a new job wasn't quite what it should have been. Many of these nights I was out partying I would end up just crashing with friends, which meant my fiancee spent many nights alone with our 3 dogs. I had a serious problem with substance abuse (primarily alcohol) and I'm sad to say I was letting it get the better of me.
    Fast forward a couple months and I had just found a new job that had random drug and alcohol test (a god-send in hind sight.) I had been sober all of 2 days and had begun repairing my relationship with my fiancee when she told me how glad she was that I was sleeping at home again. I thought nothing of it, and kissed her on the head and told her I was too and that I loved her.
    Later that night my fiancee and I were watching TV downstairs when I thought I heard something moving in our backyard. The dogs heard it too, but I dismissed it because they just perked up their ears, but didn't seem too alarmed. A moment later I hear the noise again and my fiancee very quickly mutes the TV and gives me a very nervous look.
    "Did you hear that?" She asked, looking very uncomfortable.
    I told her it's probably just a few of the neighborhood cats playing in our bushes as there are quite a few outdoor cats living in the area. But she shook her head and began insisting that this wasn't the case.
    Before I could even ask her what made her so sure I hear our sliding glass door upstairs fly open! All 3 of my Great Danes and myself are on our feet in an instant. The dogs let out the most ferocious sounding barks I've ever heard and tore ass up the stairs with me right behind them. As I'm rounding the 1st set of stairs and the dogs are reaching the top of the 2nd set I see the sliding glass door SLAM closed and the silhouette of a man running away.
    I get to the door and fling it open and the dogs shove me out of the way to chase after this would-be intruder. I grab my flashlight (one of those big 4 D-cell Maglights that cops carry) and run out into the yard. I had just made it down the deck stairs, when I see the dogs freaking out at the back fence. I sprint over and jump the fence just in time to see the man reaching the opposite fence and trying to get over it. He was covered head to toe in black clothing. A thick black hoody with the hood pulled tight to conceal his face and jet black cargo pants. Without any regard for my personal safety I charge the man and just barely miss getting a hold of him as he makes it over the fence. Once more I follow him over and come around the front of my neighbors house just in time to see him hop into an old beaten up pickup and speed off. I watch for a moment as he tears out of the neighborhood and disappears into the night.
    I run back home as fast as I can to check on my fiancee and make sure shes ok. When I walked into the house she was sitting in the upstairs living room surrounded by all 3 of our great danes and clutching the biggest knife we own. She was visibly shaken but ultimately she is a very strong woman and told me she was ready in case I got into trouble.
    After calling the cops, giving statements, and triple-checking to make sure every door and window in the house was locked up tight we decided to watch another movie as neither of us were tired after the adrenalin rush we had just been through.
    During the movie I asked her what made her so sure before that it wasn't just cats playing in the yard. What she told me was enough for me to decide it was time to change my whole life. She said that for about a month now she had been hearing strange noises coming from all around the house late at night. She would hear footsteps outside and occasionally what sounded like whispering. When I asked her why she never told anyone she just shook her head and said she didn't know.
    After hearing this, I came to the realization that whoever this man was, he knew that I was never home at night, and that my fiancee essentially was all alone most of the time. Fortunately for us, he somehow missed the fact that we have 3 great danes, and for whatever reason on this night he decided not to check and make sure she was alone again.


    1. In the mid-80s, my mum was a cleaner in Australia. She would do clean houses in suburban areas and would sometimes do houses in rural/wine regions (we lived near both).

    She would leave business cards at the local shops and got most of her business this way, and some through referrals and word of mouth.
    One day she got a call from a lady who sounded like she was around 60, asking mum to clean her old farmhouse. She made a lot of odd demands and mum would usually meet clients before taking on new business. In this case, the lady did not want to meet mum and said she would leave the keys under the front doormat. Mum agreed mainly because the lady was quite obviously wealthy and was offering to pay mum substantially more than she would reasonably expect.
    Mum went to the house on a Monday morning and said she already felt unnerved by the long driveway. The house was essentially in the middle of a very large, and very empty property. She found the keys and started cleaning.
    About an hour in to the clean, she hears the back door shut. Mum was told no one would be at the house so she immediately felt unsafe. She stood frozen in the kitchen for what she said felt like 3-4 minutes although she said it could have been much longer. There was no other car on the property.
    She wanted to leave immediately but had two rooms left to do, both were bedrooms. She said as time passed and she heard nothing else, she decided that perhaps it was nothing, or perhaps something had fallen and it wasn't the door after all.
    She walked up the hallway and stepped into the bedroom. All over the bed were black and white photos. As mum got closer, she realised the photos were all of her. Some where taken at our family home, and many others were taken at other houses mum would clean. Some through windows or over fences.
    She used the house phone to call the police and immediately drive to the end of the driveway. The lady ended up being investigated but continued to claim that it was a break-in. After some time, the police stopped with their searching and we ended up moving to a new town 4 months later.
    Every time mum tells me this story I get serious chills. Absolutely a true story too. To the day my mum thinks the lady had something to do with it. But why? And for what purpose?


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  2. #2

    Pictures from social networks

    Started unusual cobweb throw
    chudai thierry asian brooklyn style

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