[Story 1: Toyota Camry] I was for a car to buy for my son for his 18th birthday. I was searching all the typical car websites: cars.com, Ebay motors. They were all overpriced as expected. Craigslist was the only place to find an actual deal. About a week into my search, I found an 03 Toyota Camry. It had 67,000 miles, no accidents, no damage and good condition for only $3500. This seemed like a steal for such a reliable car with such low mileage. The seller lived about 10 miles from me, which was a reasonable drive when looking for a car. I gave him a call to set up a time to come check it out. The man sounded normal on the phone. He assured me that there were absolutely no problems with the car. He introduced himself as Bob. I brought along $3500 in cash, even though I planned on wiggling down the price as much as possible. I pulled up the dirt road to Bob's property about 15 minutes early. It was a tiny little house with a decent sized property, only because it was a bit far from the nearest neighbors. The garage was open, so I walked over to see if anybody was inside, but except for an unusual amount of car parts, it was empty. The car was nowhere in sight. The only car on the property was an old pickup truck. I went over to the front door to check the house numbers. It was the right address. The doorbell button was missing, so I knocked on the front door. I knocked for exactly five minutes before deciding to give the man a call, so I dialed his number and I heard the sound of a cellphone ringing from inside the house. I was extremely confused at this point. Now I knew I had the right house. I didn't understand why, if he was home, why he wasn't answering? I decided I had to take a peek through one of the windows to see if anybody was inside. Peering through the glass, I couldn't really see much as it was pretty dark inside the house. I saw a very old fashioned dining-room set, but across from that I saw somebody standing at the back door of the house, staring outside. I figured that must have been Bob so I knocked on the window, but he didn't even move. There was no gate or anything to the backyard. It was just a wide-open yard since this wasn't a rural area. I simply walked around the house to the backyard. I didn't understand how he couldn't hear me. When I got to the back door, I meet a shocking realization. The figure standing by the door was a taxidermied human being. I ran straight back the way I came and back to my car. I looked up one last time before driving off. The blinds to the window I had peeked into had been shut, but I could see two of the blinds bent open. Somebody was at that window watching me. You can probably guess that I had the gas pedal to the floor the whole way home. The whole situation still makes no sense. All the car parts, the fact that there was no Toyota Camry, the taxidermied human being. The fact that there was no car there leads me to believe that whoever that man was wasn't planning on selling me anything, and that also leads to the disturbing thought that I was very close to becoming a lifeless statue, staring out that man's back door. [Story 2: VintageXXX] I was on Tor trying to find some really deep websites. I was in a chat room where people normally shared links to deeper web sites and weird pictures and videos, commonly illegal pornography. Some guy named VintageXXX posted a link without describing what it was. I clicked on it, and it took me to a black screen where a big video box eventually popped up with a play button. The video thumbnail was a dark room, only lit by a TV screen. Out of curiosity, I clicked play and began to hear the sound of TV static in the backgrounds as lines of static slowly swam down the video screen. There was no seekbar in this video. Then I noticed something slowly begin to emerge from behind the wall. It was a figure dressed in all black with some kind of black mask on as well. I started to suspect it was a jump-scare video, and I thought I was right when the figure leapt out and ran to the screen in less than a second. It still got me even though. I was expecting it, but then it got strange. The person had their face in front of the screen, slowly moving around as if he could see me and was observing me. Then I heard a crackly demonic voice say something. It came from the video It repeated itself and I can make the phrase out to be. "Ask me something." I was really confused. I tried typing something, but there was nowhere to enter text. Then, he said, "No, not the keyboard. Say something." I felt my heart punch the inside of my chest as he said this. I opened my mouth and mumbled the words, "Y-you can hear me?" It responded with, "Yes." I was uncomfortable now. I thought it was a video. I pressed pause, but it didn't do anything. He said, "Don't try to leave. I want to talk." I tried moving the mouse to the exit button, but the mouse was frozen. In fact, none of the keys were responding on my keyboard. There was a long moment of silence before my webcam began flashing as if it were on, and my face popped up on the screen "There, I got a picture of you now. Now just hang on while I get your address, and then we can meet." I started to panic, smashing every key on the keyboard, spazzing the mouse, but it did nothing. I had my finger on the power button, but it also didn't do anything. The computer wouldn't turn off. The voice was saying crazy things like "You're stuck here. I will find you. Don't even bother." I snatched the screwdriver sitting on my desk, unscrewed the four screws on the bottom of my laptop, and took out the battery. The computer finally turned off. I was gasping for air as if I just ran a marathon. My heart was pounding five times as fast as it should have. I have since left my laptop off after that and have resorted to using my desktop as my main computer. I'm sure by now nothing will happen. He definitely didn't have enough time to get my address. [Story 3: The Toy Closet] It was very common for me to be home alone at night, as I only lived with my dad, and his shifts would constantly shift from days to nights. This happened around the time my dad was doing night shifts. I would stay up really late on these nights watching movies. It's always taken me a long time to fall asleep, so after turning off the TV to go to sleep, Probably laid there for a good half hour. Then I heard a toy fall over in my toy closet. It was nothing too suspicious, but it still creeped me out. But then the door knob to my closet started to wiggle, until finally unlocking the door. I hid under my covers, not making a sound. It was strangely quiet for a good two minutes, so I finally peeked my head out of the covers. There was a figure standing next to my bed looking down at me. I screamed at the top of my lungs and began hugging the wall behind me. The figure looked out the window, and then just walked away out of the room. I stayed in that position for like an hour before checking if he was really gone. The front door was left wide open, so it seemed he had left. I didn't get a minute of sleep that night. [Story 4: Teenage Stalker] This story's from the point of view of a 16 year old girl. I used to have a boy living next door to me that was obsessed with me. His name was Joey. Every time I would go outside, Joey would come outside as well, as if he were watching me through his windows, waiting for me. He was 17 and very weird. He didn't seem to have any friends, as he was always home. I tried to give every sign possible that I didn't like this guy, but he wouldn't get the message, so I had to finally just tell him one day that I don't like him and to leave me alone. The look on his face that day is something that won't leave me. It was the kind of angry look a toddler gives their parents when they can't have a toy. Coming from a 17 year old, that's much more disturbing One night, my parents left me to watch the house. I was working on a school project when I felt my bed shift a little bit. I looked under my bed. I screamed as I saw Joey laying under my bed. I ran away while he tried to crawl out from under my bed. I ran to his house and rang the bell at least ten times, telling his parents about it when they opened the door. Joey never came out of my house, so I called the police. His parents begged me not to but I ignored them. The police found him still in my room and arrested him. Apparently he admitted this wasn't the first time he had hid under my bed. They also found pictures of me scattered across his room. The most disturbing one was of me sleeping, and it was taken from inside my room. It sounded like just a random crack from the walls or something. It's unusual in this building, but I didn't get too concerned about it. I resumed typing away, and was once again interrupted by a sound. This time, the sound of a computer starting up. They caught me off guard. I was sure nobody else was working the night shift. I stood up on my chair to get a view over the cubicle walls. The glare of a computer screen in the dark was visible in a cubicle on the opposite side of the room. Then I did something stupid. Something I regret. I asked if there was anybody there in a yell, hoping to get an answer from a fellow employee. But instead, I saw the glaring light of the computer monitor across the room turn off, and there was once again nothing but darkness on that side of the room I started getting nervous. I turned off the lamp and computer screen, so that I wouldn't give away my position to whoever that was. I crouched down and tiptoed out across to a nearby cubicle. It was just utter silence. I sat waiting for something to happen for God knows how long. But I eventually decided the coast was clear. I tiptoed down past all the cubicles until I reached the opening near the exit door to the stairs and elevators. And that's when I realized that my fearful suspicion was true. There was a man crouched down behind the plant in the corner of the room, dressed in all black. I felt my heart sink as I noticed him, but it didn't seem like he knew that I noticed him. I turned back to the stairway door. There was no way I was going to wait for the elevator and take a chance. I casually opened the door and closed it behind me proceeding to walk down the stairs. After making it down about two flights of stairs, I heard the door above me push open aggressively, followed by manic echoing footsteps coming fast down the stairs. I raced down the stairs, running as fast as I could all while the footsteps above me were getting louder. I finally made it to the first floor, raced through the lobby and out the front door. Whoever was in there didn't follow me. I immediately called the cops, along with one of my bosses. My boss said no one was scheduled to work, except for me The cops scanned the place from top to bottom. There was no one in there. I couldn't help them out with any description, other than he was wearing all black. I did continue to do the night shift for about a week after that, with my boss allowing me to lock all possible entrances to the floor, including the elevators. But I still wasn't comfortable with it, so ever since I've been doing the day shifts. [Story 6: The Pizza Guy] This happened four years ago, when I was still in high school. I was told to do my last delivery of my shift. I got in my car, which was a 1999 Camry perfect for delivering pizzas. I GPS the address on my phone. I live upstate in the country, so all pizza deliveries were long drives. I remember the sun was starting to set, so it was probably around seven o'clock. I'd say after a good 15 minutes of driving through the forested dirt roads, my GPS said I had arrived. It was an old little cottage-like house, made almost entirely of wood. It was sitting all by itself in the middle of absolutely nothing but forest. The lawn was completely unkempt as the grass was almost at knee height. I was used to this kind of thing, so I didn't think much of it. I took the pizza to the front door. There was no doorbell, so I knocked loudly on the door. Within 10 seconds, I heard the sound of footsteps hitting wood on the inside of the house. The footsteps made it to the door and stopped. I started to feel uneasy. I got the feeling that I was being watched, and that's when I noticed there was a peephole on the door. "It's the pizza guy!" I called out. I heard a low harsh sounding voice on the other side of the door, telling me to bring the pizza out back. I didn't like the idea of going back there. Something didn't seem right. "Are you sure sir?" I called out. He didn't answer my question. The sound of footsteps didn't move away from the door, so I had the feeling he was still watching me. I almost found myself walking back to my car, but I decided I didn't want any trouble with my boss. The last time I brought a pizza back, he gave me attitude, So I reluctantly walked through the uncut grass and around the small house to the back. I remember there was a shed and a little patio back there. In the patio, there was a table with four chairs surrounding it. In one of the chairs facing away from me, I saw the head of somebody sitting in the seat. I began walking over and said, "Excuse me," but the person didn't even move an inch. "Excuse me," I said again louder. Then from behind me, I heard, "Psst... Over here." I turned around to see a man poking his head out from the corner of the house, looking at me with a crazed smile. "Come over here. I want to show you something." I freaked out, turned around, and ran around the house in the opposite direction, back to my car, for some reason, still holding the pizza. I got in my car, started it,and got away from there. On my way back to the pizzeria, I pulled over to the side of the road and called the police. Eventually I was informed that there was no sign of anybody having been in that house for a long time. I quit my delivery job a few days after that. I have no idea what would have happened to me had I gone up to that man, but to this day I still wish I just turned my head to see who or what was sitting in that patio chair. [ew] [blegh] [Story 7: Matthew] It was during a blizzard in Valley Stream. I was getting paid two hundred and fifty dollars to watch some couple's kid while they went away for the weekend. His name was Matthew. This took place on the first night, which was a Friday night. Matthew was already supposedly asleep while I was in the living room watching a movie. I got a knock at the door, [knock knock knock] And looked at the clock it. It was close to midnight. There was no way I was opening it. Not even ten seconds later: [from outside] "Open the fucking door! Open the door! Agh! Open the door!" I heard the sound of two or three men, angrily banging in the door telling me to open up. I felt like my heart was about to stop. I took a peek through the blinds, and there was somebody standing right on the other side of the window. I fell back in fear, and after managing to get back on my feet, I ran to the kitchen phone first thing to call the police. They said because of the weather it could take a while for an officer to get here. I was told to take the child and hide somewhere until an officer arrived. They wanted to keep me on the line But I wasn't thinking clearly in the heat of the moment and hung up. However, it wasn't until I ran through the living room, that I realized the banging had stopped. I took a second peek through the living-room window. Nobody was there now. [glass being broken] I heard the sound of glass shattering from a few rooms over. My knees started to feel weak as I realized they had just broken the window, and were about to climb into the house. I had to run and get Matthew. I couldn't just leave without him. Of course, when I got upstairs there was no time left to run back downstairs, as I already heard footsteps and laughter coming from downstairs. I covered Matthew's mouth with my hands as I ran with him into his toy closet. A few minutes dragged on to what felt like half an hour as we sat there in the dark closet. Matthew began to squeal as footsteps on the carpet reached the outside of his bedroom door. There was more than one person. They came inside. There weren't many places to hide in this room. I was actually reflecting on my whole life, so sure I was gonna die. We heard the sound of a police siren outside, even from in the closet. And then I heard one of the men in the room mutter, "Aw, shit." I opened the door back up as I heard at least three pairs of footsteps hurriedly rushing down the stairs. They didn't get far as the police later found their footprints in the backyard leading to our shed. There were five men in total and they were all arrested. [Story 8: Anthony] This happened when I was 15 years old. My best friend Anthony wanted me to come over for the night, since his parents would be gone all weekend. I rode my bike over and put it in his backyard, before letting myself in through his back door. We played basically every video game he had, from FIFA, all the way to Call Of Duty, with popcorn and other junk food spilled out all over the floor. As the night progressed, we moved from video games, to watching half a movie and getting bored, to doing prank calls at close to 10 o'clock. Anthony made a few calls to different pizza places. When it was my turn, I just dialed a few random numbers and hoped to get someone at their house. On say... my fourth attempt, I finally reached somebody. A guy with a deep and rough voice picked up, answering with a "yeah" instead of a "hello". Anthony's laughing in the background made me stumble with my words mid-sentence, ultimately cracking up into laughter. I had never done a prank call, so I sucked at it. The guy on the other end was silent. I regained a straight face and tried to continue with the call. It went something like this: "Uh, sir, would it be all right if I borrowed one of the wheels from your car?" "What's your name kid?" "My name is Bob." "Really? You sure it's not Anthony?" It hit me like a brick. I looked up at Anthony whose face was noticeably full of fear. I hung up the phone, not wanting to be on the line with whoever that was for another second. "Anthony, who the hell was that?" I asked him. "I-I don't know," he told me. "Does your caller ID info display your name or something?" "No, it shows my dad's name." We hopped on the computer and did some research, trying to figure out how it was possible to get someone's name through their phone number. It didn't make sense how he could get Anthony's name so quickly. He was way too young at the time to be on any of those personal information sharing websites. We ended up asking question on Yahoo Answers, since no one had a similar experience. The question turned up no answers. I suggested he call his dad, but he said he wasn't supposed to have anybody over for the weekend, so he didn't want to call. We planned on sleeping in the living room, so we just resumed watching the movie that we hadn't finished from earlier. Right after the phone call had left my mind, me and Anthony looked at each other when we heard his front storm door opening, and then the door knob to the front door began to turn. It only was able to turn about half way before the lock restricted it. Anthony turned off the TV, and I went over to the window to see who it was. I spread the blinds open. There was a tall guy standing outside. He noticed the blinds moving and turned to look at me. I practically threw the blinds back into place. Me and Anthony hid in the kitchen, listening for any more noises. We heard the sound of the gate to the backyard opening as it moves right outside the kitchen window. ""God damn it," I said. "I forgot to shut the back door." Anthony urged me to run and shut it. I made it to the hallway leading to his back door and froze. There was a silhouette standing outside the back door. I don't think he noticed me, but he was surely looking into the house. He opened the door and stepped inside. I tiptoed to the kitchen and motioned for Anthony to follow me upstairs. We made it to his room as quietly as possible, pulling the door shut to avoid making any noise. We crawled under his bed. He had cloth covering the bottom of his bed, so you couldn't see anything under it unless you actually moved the cloth. The doors downstairs all opened, each one getting closer to the stairs. Thumps finally began up the stairs, and he was right outside the door now. The door to the room opened. I could hear Anthony's breathing. It was too loud. Footsteps moved over to the closet and then the closet opened. I could hear the coat hangers being slid around as the fabric of the jackets and coats rubbed against each other. Footsteps moved over to the bed and stopped. I felt like my heart was about to explode out of my chest. Anthony's breathing was to loud. I had to cover his mouth with my hand. Nothing but silence in the room now. We laid still for so long. I almost thought he wasn't even in the room anymore. I moved my hand away from Anthony's mouth and whispered in his ear, "Do you think we can make a run for it?" He was about to answer when the most disturbing memory-haunting scream I'd ever heard filled my ears as Anthony was seemingly dragged out from under the bed. I crawled out and saw him struggling with a man. I desperately looked around for anything to use as a weapon. I settled with a screwdriver sitting on his nightstand. I hurried over to the man and drove the screwdriver into his back. He let go of Anthony as he let out a scream of agony, giving us time to get the hell out of the house. Running onto the road would give away our position too easily. It would take too long to make it to his neighbor's house. We dove for the tree line in the woods and took cover behind a bush,watching the house. The back door opened as the man stepped outside, looking around the backyard. He then looked out to the woods. I felt his eyes pass me as he scanned through the tree line. It seemed that it was too dark for him to see us. Then he turned his head back in our direction. I ducked behind the bush. "Joe, he's coming." "What?" "Dude, get up. We gotta run." He was right. The man was approaching us, fast. How could he have seen us? We ran through the woods with the leaves crunching under us, giving away our position. When Anthony tripped over something, I crouched down with him, hoping we had run far enough. Not even 20 seconds later, oncoming footsteps from the direction we were running from came fast. They slowed down only two trees away from us, as we lay face down in the leaves. Moments later, the footsteps take off in another direction. We waited until we could no longer hear them. I took off back in the direction of the house. While running over the sound of weeds crushing and my heavy breathing, I could swear I heard leaves crushing from behind us. We made it back to his backyard into his house, and this time remembering to shut the back door. We were now able to call the police. Anthony stayed on the line with them. While I patrolled the back windows, making sure nobody was out there. It was so dark though. I couldn't see anything, so I did something that seems stupid today. I turned on his backyard lights and immediately in the distance, over by the woods, I saw him standing in front of a big tree. He turned off back into the woods and disappeared out of sight. That was the last time me or Anthony ever saw him. I would be lying if I told you we heard the occasional knocks at our windows or something cliché. No, that was it. Five years have passed and nothing has happened. Do I wonder if it was somehow linked to the prank call? Maybe. Does it make sense? Not really. But yeah, this was the story of how me, and my still best friend Anthony, almost died during a break-in. [Story 9: The Honeymoon] Me and my wife were on our honeymoon in Hawaii. We were on the island of Oahu, sitting on the beach. My wife got up to go to the bathroom, and when she got back, she told me that there was a creepy man watching her walk into the bathroom, and when she tried to walk out he blocked her path. She only got away because there were two other people walking into the bathroom, so he got out of the way. I asked her what the man looked like and she looked over, but unfortunately she said he was gone. Our hotel was walking distance from the beach, so we got back quickly, but we made sure to report the man to a police officer we saw walking on the beach. And then we washed up before going out to eat. We ate at a fancy seafood place and did some walking around afterwards. Close to midnight, we finally went back to the room and began to wind down. Then we got a knock at the door. I looked through the peephole of the door and saw a man in a maid uniform standing outside. I opened the door and he immediately tried to let himself in. I pushed him back a bit asking him what he wanted. He told me he left something in the room while cleaning earlier, and needed to get it out. The only thing: we left the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door all day. Then I noticed he was making eye contact with my wife. My wife then screamed, "That's the man!" I didn't understand at first, but it was too late for that. The man had already lunged at me, holding my throat with one hand while reaching behind himself with another. He pulled out a knife and started swinging at me, and if it weren't for my wife coming over and smashing his face with the lamp, I would have been as good as dead. The commotion drew out all the inhabitants of the neighboring rooms. One of the women started freaking out and screaming making the situation worse. We called the police and so did the hotel. It turned into a huge horrible scene, but we were just happy to be alive. We were questioned when the police arrived, and some of the other people around us claimed to have witnessed it all. We still don't know what kind of intentions this guy had, but if I had to guess, I would say he wanted to get to my wife. He must have been one very dumb person to think you would get away with something like this in such a public building. [Story 10: Late Night Delivery] I'll never forget this night. The pizza place I worked at was about to close, and I was getting ready to go home, when the phone rang. I was working the counter alone that night, so I was taking calls. I picked up the phone. There was complete silence, so I hung up About a minute later, the phone rings again, so I pick up again. Still silence. I was about to hang up again, when I heard the very weak and cold voice of an old woman on the other end. She said she wanted a regular pie delivered. I remained polite on the phone, but on the inside, I was screaming. I just wanted to get home and end my shift. I called out to my boss that somebody is requesting a delivery, he told me I had to go. I was upset at first, but I realized it's another tip and the old ones usually tipped the most, so I decided it was okay. I took down the address and told her it would be there soon, but she had already hung up. I thought that was rude, but I ignored it and yelled to the chef that I needed one regular. My boss told me to just go home after the delivery, as the place would be closed. So a little before 10 o'clock, I got in my car and put the address into my GPS. The house was seven miles away. The GPS took me to the quiet side of town. I arrived to the house. It was a small one-floor house on a very quiet and empty block. I took the pizza and walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. There were no lights on in the house. I hoped that she hadn't given me the wrong address. I rang the doorbell again. There was still no answer. I was about to give up when I turned my head and saw somebody standing at the window. I got a little freaked out and backed up at first. But I eventually got closer to the window to see the person. It was an old woman, probably in her late 70s. She was just staring at me with a blank expression. I yelled to her through the glass that I had her pizza. She didn't react to what I said, so I screamed it louder. A big smile ran across her face, not a pleasant genuine smile. It was a smile that sent chills down my spine. I still remember that exact face she made through the window. I decided that I was freaked out enough, and got back to my car, and set the pizza in the passenger seat. I had to text my boss about this. I shot him a quick text and started my car, ready to get the hell away. I look to my right to get one more look, to see the woman standing right outside my passenger side window giving me the same stare she had given me before. I put my car into drive and floored it down the street, not looking back. My boss never made me do a late-night delivery again. [Story 11: Trick or Treat It was Halloween Night of 2007 Freshman year in high school, and I was with my friends, Ivan, Ryan and Jesse. We were all dressed as the Super Mario characters. I was Luigi, since I was the second tallest. Ivan was Mario, since he's short and buff, not that Mario is buff. Jesse was Waluigi because he's freakishly tall and skinny, and Ryan was Wario because he's just really fat. So they were the perfect group costumes for us. We live in a very non-congested suburban neighborhood with a decent amount of space in between houses. On Halloween, that's the worst thing ever. Less bang for your buck. We were trick-or-treating for hours, way past dark, and eventually came the time when most trick-or-treaters were heading home. My feet started to hurt and I had to constantly switch arms for holding the now ten pound pillow sack of candy, but we planned on going until our bags were completely full. A lot of the houses by now weren't answering anymore. It was probably past their cutoff time for giving candy to trick-or-treaters. Approaching our next house, we saw a purple bucket on the stoop, which was the best feeling ever. I was the one to get close enough to realize it was empty which was the worst feeling ever. I turned around when I heard a knock at the window of the house. [knock knock knock] We all looked at the window, couldn't see anyone, but heard someone call out, "Wait!" The door opened and an older man, late forties, already balding stepped outside. He told us to come inside, so he can get us some more candy. I said we could just wait out here. He responded, saying something along the lines of, "Nonsense. Come on in, we'll get you your candy." Ivan stepped in and said, "It's alright. Come on, Dan. Let's go." I told the guy to take care and apologized. He just stood there, watching as we walked off, not saying anything. I felt bad, but at the same time that guy seemed like a creeper, and I figured I just dodged a bullet not going in there. If the story ended there, it wouldn't be scary, so of course it didn't end there. We skipped a few of the guy's neighboring houses, just to get further away and continued on with our business. We were walking down, close to the nature preserve now, so there weren't many houses around us. At this point we were now walking back closer to Jesse's house. I noticed Ryan had stopped walking, and I turned around to see what's up. He said he heard someone moving from behind the trees in the preserve. Now this was before everyone's phones had flashlights, so we couldn't just go searching in the woods for someone. Besides, we were just telling Ryan that it must have been a raccoon or something. You may think this is a bit of a cliche, but when things like this happen in real life, you always assume the more logical possibility. It's just natural. Why would we assume we were being followed? I had to put my arm around Ryan's shoulder, nudge him forward. A little ways down the street, me and Ivan picked up on the sound as well. When we all stopped, the sounds of the footsteps from beyond the trees stopped as well. Ivan yelled at the obvious stalker to go away, or we would beat the shit out of them. I knew he was just bluffing though. I could hear the nervousness in his voice. The snap of a twig from beyond the trees triggered a fight-or-flight response in all of us. Me, Jesse and Ryan all ran for it. Ivan was at first charging to attack, but he quickly followed after realizing we all taken off. We ran down the dark street. We all noticed the sounds of at least two or three pairs of footsteps crushing the twigs and leaves in the woods. We banked it hard right down Jesse's street when it finally came up and ran straight for his backyard, entering his house through the back door. The first thing we did was peek out through his living-room window. We couldn't see anyone. We all had to gather our thoughts and discuss what the hell just went down in his living-room, when all of a sudden, we heard Jesse's backyard gate slam shut. Jesse dove to turn off the lights. There was a click and a bang from down in the den. It was more than likely Jesse's backdoor. We all agreed to go down, armed with knives and face them. Jesse turned on his backdoor light, but there was nobody out there. Just then, the front door opened. We all screamed like animals. Jesse's mom and sisters came rushing downstairs. They had just gotten home from their friend's little house party. We all rested, assured, knowing it was just them. Jesse explained what happened, but made it seem a lot less dramatic. Me and Ivan went home after that and called it a night. At 12:30 a.m., I got a disturbing text message. It was from Jesse. It said, "It wasn't my mom!" I texted back, saying, "What?" He responded back quickly, saying, "It wasn't my mom in the backyard!" My finger slammed the buttons on my phone, responding back. "What do you mean?" There was a long pause before he finally told me that his mom and sisters said they never went in the backyard. I told him to immediately check the backyard from his upper deck. He had already done just that. He also told his mom everything and she had already called the police. They didn't find anyone back there, but Jesse did mention the guy who invited us in while trick-or-treating. Nothing ever became of that, and nothing ever happened at Jesse's house again after that one Halloween night. [Story 12: Hallucination] You can see some weird things when you're tired, but the thing about this story: I wasn't tired. Me and the family were on vacation to some resort in a very rural area— Pennsylvania— to make the setting creepier. There weren't many young people there for me and my brothers to hang out with. It seemed like more of an adult resort. But then one day, when I was walking outside of the main lodge of the resort , I, for some reason, looked up to a window on the second floor and saw a teenage girl looking down at me. From that distance, she looked kind of cute, so I gave her a wave, but she didn't show any sign of reaction. So I just moved on. However, later that same day, I was so bored that I was sitting on the swing set at the little playground of the resort, and that's when I saw the same girl again. She was a little ways away from me, down past the playground, close to the tree line. And she was just standing there, staring at me. Being a teenage guy, my hormones controlled my body, and so I got off the swing and began walking over to her. As I started getting closer to her, I realized she wasn't as cute as I thought she was. There was something about her face that just gave off a creepy vibe. I can't put my finger on it, but if I had to say it, I think it would have to do with her eyes and her mouth. I'd say once I got about halfway over to her, she turned around completely and ran into the woods. and I mean she full-on ran into the woods. I stopped in my tracks, completely turned off. This girl seemed like a freaky stalker. I didn't see her the rest of our stay at the resort. During the car ride home, miles and miles away from the resort, I was thinking about her. How maybe if I followed her into the woods, I could have gotten laid, even though there was something off about her face. But then when I saw next made me feel like my heart dropped into my stomach. Looking down ahead, I saw the same girl standing by the tree line on the side of the highway. As we sped past her, I saw her head turn so that she was always looking right at me, even through the tinted minivan windows. I asked my parents if they saw her, and they just responded, "Saw who?" Soon afterwards, I accepted that it was all in my head, and that the girl was never even there. [Story 13: Daryl's Pond] There used to be a pond about half a mile away from my old house that I would commonly go fishing in. It was nicknamed Daryl's Pond I still have no idea who Daryl was or why it was called that, but nobody owned it, so people would, once in a blue moon, go fishing there as well. It was usually me by myself though. I had dug a pole into the ground where I would tie a noose to and from my small kayak. I'd say it was about 3:00 in the afternoon when I rode out to the middle of the pond, the sweet spot for getting a decent catch. There was another person coming out from the trees. I waved at him and gave him a smile. He hopped into a small boat floating by the edge of the pond and began to row over to me. As he got close enough, where trying to speak to him wouldn't come off as obnoxious, I gave him a friendly "Perfect day, isn't it?" "Yes, absolutely," he said. He didn't say anything after that, and I started to feel a bit awkward, as if I were obligated to keep some kind of conversation rolling now. "So... uh... you come out here to throw some lines?" I asked. "No, I don't actually fish." "Oh." "Well, it's never a bad day to relax on the pond," I said. He continued to row closer to me, until his boat collided with mine, creating a big thud. I was genuinely uncomfortable now. I didn't feel threatened, just weirded out. I was only 24 years old. This guy looked like he was late 40s or 50s. There was an awkward silence. I tried to just act like I was focused on trying to make a catch, but by now that wasn't even on my mind. This guy was weird. I didn't know what he wanted, and I was uncomfortable being so close to him. I felt him looking at me, or at least in my direction, as I face halfway to the opposite direction of him. I took a quick glance to my right. Yeah, he was staring at me. I decided to be ballsy and lock eye contact with him. After about four seconds, he looked away. "So, uh... "Where are you from?" I ask him. "Up there." He pointed behind himself, in the direction of the woodsy hill leading past the dirt road. "Oh, you live by Suffolk?" I asked. "Um no, no, I'm not," he said "What made you decide to come out here?"I said "Why not?" I continue to try and uncomfortably fill the awkward silences that kept coming up. His responses were dry. He didn't contribute anything to what was barely a conversation. He just sat there not doing anything with half a smile on his face, looking either at me or in my general direction throughout. I was creeped out. My heart was racing at this point. I'll go as far as saying that I was nervous for my life. We were surrounded by trees in all directions in the middle of the pond. I started to row a bit closer to land, but in a very low-key kind of way, trying to play it off as and me just trying to find a better spot to find some fish. I was horrified when I saw he was following me. "What a great day, huh?" I felt a shake in my voice. I got close enough to the edge of the pond where I finally told the man,
I think I'm gonna call it a day." I turned to see his reaction. He was still staring at me, but his smile was gone now. "I can't let you leave," he said. He lifted his flannel to expose a handgun sticking out of his jeans pocket. As soon as I could process what I was looking at, dove out of the boat for land, ran the whole half-mile uphill through the woods back to my house. I locked every door and window as soon as I made it home. I pulled down the blinds to the dining room window, leaving it open just a crack for peeking outside undetected. It started to get dark out, and I left every light in the house off. Still peeking out to the front yard, making sure I wasn't followed. The time came when I finally decided I wasn't followed. I realize now, like you, that not calling the police immediately was a huge mistake. I kept my bedroom windows open to let the room air out. My bedroom was on the second floor so I wasn't worried about being watched through the window. About half an hour after shutting the light and falling under the covers, I heard the sound of leaves crunching from outside. I sat up to hear it more clearly. It was definitely something walking around out there. Normally, I would assume there was a deer or a bear, but after what just happened. I was still in paranoia mode. I sat up, as still as a statue, except for my shaking out of fear, waiting as the sounds of the steps stopped. "Hey, buddy, you up there? Are you trying to sleep?" "Sorry, didn't mean to wake ya." I felt like a hundred pounds just fell directly onto my chest. It was the same voice. I knew it right away. I didn't make a sound. I crept out of the room quietly downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed the phone, practically crawling on my way out to avoid being seen through the open blinds. I called 911 like I should have earlier in the temporary safety of my bedroom. I made sure to whisper into the phone, as I was still hoping that he hadn't he had heard or spotted me. 20 minutes felt like an hour, as I sat behind my bed, waiting for the police to arrive, in constant fear that I would hear glass breaking from downstairs or a thud on the back door or even just a voice again from down below my window outside. The police did a thorough investigation of the property in nearby woods, turning up nothing. They suggested I stay with a friend or a family member for a few days, and so I did. I never heard from, or saw the man again, but I still moved a month later. I couldn't deal with the constant fear and paranoia of being watched through my windows. I feel much more comfortable fishing out by the bay now. [Story 14: Four 2-Sentence Stories] The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 12:07, before she pushed her long rotting nails through my chest, her other hand muffling my screams. I sat bolt upright, relieved it was only a dream, but as I saw my alarm clock read 12:06, I heard my closet door creak open. Growing up with cats and dogs, I got used to the sound of scratching at my door while I slept. Now that I live alone, it's much more unsettling. I begin tucking him into bed, and he tells me, "Daddy, check for monsters under my bed." I look underneath for his amusement and see him, another him, under the bed, staring back at me quivering and whispering, "Daddy, there's somebody on my bed." I always thought my cat had a staring problem, she always seemed fixated on my face. Until one day, when I realized that she was always looking just behind me.
