Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 11x04: Mr. K (feat. Bethany Watson)

Episode Date: July 17, 2023

Stories in this episode: - Where Did They Take Us?, by Frost (0:38) - The Dude With The Notebook, by Madison (5:42) - He Had a Friendly Smile, by QueenMassive Cake (15:07) - Mr. K, by Liv (20:52) - The Dude in the Cheap Sunglasses, Jess (27:08) - I Don't Remember and I Don't Want To, by Girl From the Middle of the World (32:25) - The Man With a "Stick", by Confusionitus (37:31) - There Are No Good Tylers, by Riley (41:53) Extended Patreon Content: - William, by Anonymous - Just a Bloody Shirt in a Riverbed, by Eleena Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time-stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To submit your story to the show, send it to [e-mail].   Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week at a higher bitrate along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails, Welcome to Paradise (It Sucks), and the Old Time Radiocast at CrypticCountyPodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts! Stop throwing your money away. Cancel unwanted subscriptions and manage your expenses the easy way by going to https://rocketmoney.com/meet. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/andytatelive

This podcast contains adult language and content. Listen to discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. This happened about 10 years ago when I was 21. I had moved to the UK as an opair. When I first got there, I lived very close to London, but after a month, my host family moved to a very small town in the north. There were only about 10,000 people living in the small town, and everyone around

my age had moved away for university, so it quickly became very lonely and depressed. Every weekend, when I was off, I would go to meet with my best friend who was also an opair in London. I had recently come out as gay, so we often went to gay bars and clubs in London. My friend was always up for it, even though she is straight. On one such night, we had been drinking heavily in one of the bars. Most bars closed around one in the morning in the UK, but where we were from, everything was open so much later.

So when one a.m. rolled around, we weren't ready to go home. We started stumbling around so how trying to find a night club, any night club, that was still open. In our search, we met some men and got to talking. They asked us what we were up to and where we had been that evening. When we told them, they asked if we were gay. We were honest and told them that I was, but my friend was not. They told us that they were also gay and were heading home and invited us to go with them. Now, I'm a very cautious person. And even though I'm from one of the safest countries

in the world, I have always been very wary of strangers, especially men. Seeing as we were drunk, not ready to stop partying, and these guys told us that they were gay, we agreed. I even asked them if they were really gay before we took off with them and they insisted that they were. The next moments of our night are a bit hazy. Neither of us can remember how many men were in this group or how long the car ride was to their place. I can only remember a very tall man with dreadlocks who was the instigator in convincing us to go with them. Anyway, we got into their car, and we were driven to God knows where.

We got out of the car, and went into their house. At first nothing seemed off, even though there were more men at their house when we arrived. We thought nothing of it, and continued drinking while listening to music. After some time, I found myself sitting on the sofa next to the tall guy with the dreadlocks, and we were just chatting. Suddenly, he started touching my thigh and hitting on me. I was very uncomfortable, so I asked him what he was doing since he said that he was gay. He didn't answer my question and just told me to relax. He didn't answer my question and just told me to relax. Oh hell no, I thought.

Luckily I sober up quite quickly whenever I'm sensing danger. I looked around and realized what I thought was a living room was actually a large multi-purpose room of some sort with a pool table, a sofa, and a guitar. My best friend was playing the guitar, and she was surrounded by at least five men. I got up, grabbed my friend, and told her that we needed to leave immediately. But she was having fun. She didn't want to go. I insisted and told her that it wasn't up for debate. The men in the room noticed that I was upset, and trying to drag my friend out, so they started to object. They said that I could leave, but they wanted my friend to stay.

There was no way that was happening, so I took my friend's hand, and we walked out of whatever room we were in. We walked out of the room and into the hallway that was filled with closed doors. There was no kitchen, no bathroom, or any bedrooms at all. This really freaked me out even more, since it was obvious that we weren't in a normal apartment where somebody would live. When we got out, one of the men followed us, and tried to convince us to come back. I refused and made him call us a taxi, since we didn't know where we were, or how to get home.

The guy said that he would, but we waited for a long time without any taxi showing up. Instead, the men kept taking turns coming outside to ask us to come back. One of them even said, it's too cold outside, you'll get sick. No thanks, pal. Little did they know, we were from Scandinavia. So, we know when it's too cold outside. It was not too cold that night. And eventually, a taxi did arrive. I don't know what these men had planned for us or why they were initially pretending to be gay, but I'm thankful that we didn't stick around to find out. So to those sketchy guys, let's

never meet again. I'm a 23 year old female. I used to work at a drive-through gas house where we sold gas, carousine, cigarettes, and energy drinks. You can't walk into the store. It's just a small storefront with a drive-through window and big glass windows to see the cars at the pumps. It's a small operation, so it functions on single-person coverage, meaning only one employee is present for each shift. I considered myself very good at the job, especially when it came to customer service. Sure, there were customers who got mad over tiny things that were out of my control, but

most of the customers were good. This story is about the one customer that made my heart sink and caused me to look for another job. One night I was going about my usual shift, slinging cigarettes out the door, turning on pumps, etc. When a car I hadn't seen before pulled up. If you've ever worked in a place like this in a small town, then you know it's easy to get to know people's faces, cars, and cigarette preferences. This dark blue car rolled up and asked for a red bull. I was nice during the transaction and told him to have a blessed day, as I always did.

This made him stop and smile. This wasn't unusual as I live in the Bible belt and saying that made most people happy. He proceeded to ask me for my name and told me that he was new to the area and worked at one of the factories. He asked for my number, so I gave him a fake one, as I always do, since I'm taken. He had me write it down in his notebook he had with lyrics and poetry written in it, and after he left, I went about my shift. The next night, he came through again. The elderly man in front of him was taking a bit longer to dig out the last of the change

he needed to pay. The notebook guy in the dark blue car got impatient, pulled out of line, and sped out of the parking line. I didn't think anything of it since cars getting impatient and speeding away wasn't unusual to see during a shift. The following week, the man in the dark blue car returned during an unusually slow period of the night. He purchased his typical red bull and cigarettes, then started talking about his music and lyrics with me.

He talked about how women don't understand him as an artist, and he said everyone who doesn't like him is legitimately a demon set in his path to stop him. He carried on about people's initials and star signs that explained how he knew his mother was a demon since she had the same initials as a big makeup company. It was obvious that he wasn't stable, so I just politely nodded and acknowledged what he was saying But I grew very uncomfortable when I noticed how he was looking at me Then he pulled out his notebook to continue to prove his conspiracies with his handwritten notes He opened his book up and said just ignore my notes at the top

But there was no ignoring those notes just ignore my notes at the top. But there was no ignoring those notes. He wrote the conspiracy stuff ridiculously small, and above it were odd questions like, how hard is it to just steal someone? There were also various disgusting sexual things written that made me sick when I read them. Attempting not to upset him, I told him that his conspiracies were cool, but I had to get back to stocking. He smiled, and his eyes widened, as he said. I knew you were cool. Satan told me that if I was going to achieve fame and fortune, I had to kill my evil twin and find people like me. I'm so glad I met you." Then he drove away. I was still processing this conversation as the next customer pulled up. They rudely asked

me what was up with a look on my face. I answered that I was just shaken up and that the guy who just pulled away made me uncomfortable. This customer proceeded to say, oh all you women are fucking sensitive teases. None of you can handle it when a good guy is giving you attention. Get over it. I sold him his cigarettes and posted the bathroom break sign on the window so I could go into the back office to call my boss. She told me if the man in the dark blue car came back,

I was allowed to hide in the back until he left. A few days passed and the guy hadn't come back again. During those days in between, a cop came to get tobacco and I told him about the situation. He made a report for me on the spot so it would be in the system and he parked a patrol car in the lot for me that night to watch me until we closed. For the next two nights after that, my parents sat in the lot, armed and ready to jump in case the guy returned and tried anything. Then, on my day off, I got a call from a coworker who was working the window. She told me that

there was a guy there asking when I was coming back and he wanted to know my schedule. Now, of course, we can't give that info out and she stuck to that policy. But she said it was important to her to let me know about this guy dropping by because he was talking in Bible verses and trying to convince her that I was the only one who understood the crazy stuff he was saying. My boss told her to report it to the police and said if he came back, she needed to get his license plate number. He wound up coming back two more times that day. He bought random stuff when he stopped by so he could look in the window to see if I was there. I assumed he was on the lookout for a shift

change and hoped that I'd be coming in. Luckily, the second time he stopped by, my co-worker got the plate number and called the police, who were there waiting for him when he pulled in for a third time. The cops issued him a trespass notice and warned him that if he came back, they would arrest him. The chief is good friends with my boss, who told her that the guy lived in the next town over. He lived 45 minutes away, but insisted on driving all the way to where I worked, which was way off

the highway. When asked about the conspiracies he claimed to be true, he said, I have no control over my emotions or my actions. I just go where I'm told." After that, I never saw him again, but warned my boss I was looking for a new job. Being a woman working alone at night felt too dangerous at this point boss I was looking for a new job. Being a woman working alone at night felt too dangerous at this point. I worked there for two more weeks before being let go for no longer being needed. I'm honestly relieved. Thank God I never have to see him again. I try not to go anywhere alone anymore, and I avoid talking in depth to anyone about any subject even remotely related to religion or conspiracies.

My sense of kindness and understanding for people has been compromised, and my trust in the human race is gone. Be careful out there y'all. And, dude, let's not meet. Are you a fan of streaming services, fitness apps, and online magazines? While they provide us with entertainment and convenience, have you ever stopped to think about the true cost of all of those subscriptions? Well rocket money can do that for you. As a podcaster, I rely on various subscription services to enhance the quality of my shows. Initially, I underestimated these expenses assuming that

they would be somewhere around 80 to 100 bucks per month. However, after using rocket money's innovative tracking and management tools, I discovered that I was actually spending way, way more than that I'm embarrassed to even say. It was an eye-opening experience that made me realize the importance of being financially aware and proactive. Rocket money's intuitive platform not only revealed my true subscription costs,

but it also helped me optimize my spending by identifying unnecessary or even duplicate subscriptions. Rocket money is a personal finance app that finds and cancels your unwanted subscriptions monitors your spending and helps you lower your bills all in one place. Over 80% of people have subscriptions that they've completely forgot about and chances are you're one of them. Like that star's app just to watch one show or that free gaming trial you never actually used. Rocket money will quickly and easily find your subscriptions for you. And for any of them that you just don't want to pay for anymore, just hit cancel.

And Rocket money will cancel it for you. It's that easy. Rocket money also helps you manage all of your finances in one place and automatically categorize your expenses. So you can easily track your budget in real time and also get alerted if anything looks off. Over 3 million people have used rocket money, saving the average person up to $720 a year. So stop throwing your money away. Cancel unwanted subscriptions

and manage your expenses the easy way by going to rocketmoney.com slash meet way by going to rocket money.com slash meat. That's rocket money.com slash meat. Again, rocket money.com slash meat. Now back to the show. I live in an apartment centered in a cluster of three-story buildings surrounded by woods and roads. It has never been a great place, but it's also not a sketchy location. The neighborhood was more or less hanging on a thin thread of becoming a rough neighborhood. I moved here in hopes of starting a family, which failed, but that story is for another day. My mother lives next door in an apartment complex that's an exact copy of my complex.

I would visit her on a daily basis due to her persistent hounding of me to do so, and in the apartment next to hers lived a man that we'll call Brad. You see, Brad used to go to a specialized school for his severe autism. He had gained help from a social worker who on occasion would come by and clean his apartment. Brad would always say hello, correcting his glasses as he told us of the importance of bowling, but he was alone and he couldn't find love very easily. Brad was gay and had problems with social skills which made it difficult for him to meet a

man. So, when my mother saw another man, brightly smiling as he kissed Brad on the cheek one day, it made her happy. But then the odd visits started to happen. This smiling man who kissed Brad on the cheek seemed to have a wife and a child, who all started to live in Brad's apartment. The man would often greet us with polite, bright smiles and tell us in detail how his family came to our country a year ago. He also told us things that we didn't really ask about, but we thought that he was just being polite, and he always

praised my mother's looks. He would hold open the door for us if we were walking up to my mom's apartment. He just always wanted to talk. He even suggested that we attended their church, but we declined since neither of us are religious of that kind. This smiling man would occasionally knock on my door by mistake, saying that he thought that it was Brad's apartment. And one time I found him standing in my hallway, only after I forgot to lock the door behind mistake.

Brad then started to contact me on Facebook, complaining over how they kept moving his books, or would borrow money from him and never give it back. I advised him to either tell them to pay him back or have them move out. He simply sent a thumbs up, and I would not see him again until later in the week. When I saw Brad again, he seemed extra cheerful, as he was on his way to bowling, and he was excited about the new bike that he had purchased. My mom and I promised to take a look at his new bike when he got home with it, but that would not come to be, because two days later, a blood-curdling scream could be heard from

Brad's building. I saw what I thought was a woman run across the grass field outside of the apartment and vanish among the buildings. I took a blanket and I stood outside on the balcony hoping to see the person who ran off, but there was nothing. It took over an hour before I heard arguing outside. It was the smiling man on the phone with somebody, and another man in distress was outside with him, screaming for someone to come help. While out on my balcony, which is high from the ground,

I asked what was wrong. The person, Brad, he's dead. The man in distress cried, now sitting on his knees. The smiling man not showing any emotions kept speaking to the person on the phone and asked me, where are we? I paused and then gave him the address. The smiling man repeated our location and it would take 15 minutes for an ambulance and a police car to finally show up.

At 4am, the police knocked on my door to ask questions. I could only tell them what I knew. I would later search for Brad's cousin on Facebook, and I told her what was going on, and told her to check on Brad. She denied him being dead, and blocked me. I felt guilty. Perhaps I was wrong. But sadly, I was not. After weeks of rumors between neighbors and on a forum, it became confirmed Brad had been murdered, and in the most gruesome way one could imagine. And the one who did it was smiling man.

He would deny murdering Brad, claiming that it was what Brad wanted. A newspaper would later publish pictures of a reenactment of the crime. He had been tied down with weights on ropes around his neck, and some other things I won't articulate here. A story would be printed up about how Brad and this man had a relationship that his faith would be an issue if he were caught with a man. The story detailed how the smiling man and his family used Brad from money and lived rent-free. Thankfully, the smiling man gained 15 years in prison and he was sent home to his native country and barred from reentering the country forever. He tried to get it overturned, but it was no use. The evidence of him was stacked up. And finally, the question came to me

if I wanted protection. I said no, because somehow I think he won't be back. But that being man, let's not ever meet again, and I hope you burn in hell. I'm a 21 year old female. This happened to be almost two years ago. I live in a small beach side town, where my high school population was about 500 students max, so all of the teachers knew the students quite well. There was this one male teacher, we're going to call them Mr. K for this story. Mr. K was a psych teacher, and he was also the advisor for my graduating class. This meant that he was the one who helped our class plan everything for Spirit Week, Homecoming, and Prom.

I was involved in our class council and planning committees, which led to a lot of my extra time being spent with Mr. K. Mr. K was known to be a very strange man who tended to make the female students very uncomfortable. He was the type who liked to make crude and sexual jokes to and around students. He even admitted to staring at girls' chests, but dismissed it by saying, if they're gonna wear tops like that, I can't help but look. He also shared that he loved when women wore heels because it made their butts look perky and their legs look longer. heels because it made their butts look perky and their legs look longer. One vivid memory that sticks out to me was when we were planning our homecoming float,

which was going to be Disney Princess themed. We were discussing which princesses different members of the committee would be. Mr. K. butted in with the joke about how he always wondered if Rapunzel's carpet matched her drapes. Lovely. Keep in mind that the committee was essentially all girls who were fourteen-year-old freshmen, so he was making all of these sexual jokes around minors. Jump forward a few years when I was a junior.

Mr. K's behavior started to bother many people in my class. It got so bad that a group of girls came forward to complain to the principal about his inappropriate behavior towards students, especially the females. They called the meeting and went to the principal's office with written lists of all of the incidents. The principal and vice principal essentially wrote all the girls off and didn't do a thing about the situation. The principal and vice principal essentially wrote all the girls off and didn't do a thing about the situation. All they said was that they would speak to Mr. K about it. With that little bit of background, this is where my personal story starts with Mr. K. I had just finished getting piercings with my friends, and they were dropping me off at

my car so that I could drive home. Before I got into my car, I noticed that there was a man. He was standing near the driver's side of my car. My, let's not meet listening, but, knew better, so I hesitated until I realized that the person was chatting with someone in the car next to mine, which happened to be a pink punch buggy. Realizing this, I assumed it was okay to go to my car as it was still mid-day and the plaza was busy, but I kept my keys between my knuckles just in case.

The man standing next to my driver's side was still talking to Pink Punch Buggy Guy, so I excused myself to get past them. That's when I realized it was Mr. K. Now I was raised polite, so despite the fact that Mr. K made me uncomfortable, I still made some polite small talk. It quickly took a turn when he focused the conversation completely on me. His eyes tracked me up and down as he told me I looked very beautiful. Unsure of what to do or how to react, I kind of laughed it off and awkwardly thanked them. He continued by saying, I mean, you were a

lovely girl in high school but now,. Keep in mind, he's known me since I was 14. I guess he thought he had free reign since I had graduated high school. I was completely shocked by this comment, but my knee jerk reaction was to laugh awkwardly, yet again. Then he turned to the man in the pink punch buggy, who had just been sitting and listening to our conversation. Mr. Kaye said, �I�m not trying to flirt with her. You're my witness���my body revolted at the comment� �Instead of chastising him, the man in the pink punch buggy just laughed it off and

introduced himself to me, explaining that his daughter was currently in high school and a student of Mr. K's. I just wanted to get into my car, but instead of moving as I asked, Mr. K started talking about some personal surgeries that he had done. He proceeded to lift his shirt up and show us these scars. I was uncomfortable. I was ready to get out of there, so I inched towards my door. But Mr. K turned the conversation back on me. He asked me what I was up to, and he asked

about my love life. He asked me, are you into the older guy thing yet? Would you want to go out with me?" My blood ran cold at these questions. I didn't know how to respond. The shock must have shown on my face because he turned to the guy in the pink punch buggy and said, I'm only getting. After that, I quickly came up with an excuse to leave. I jumped in my car and rushed home. When I got home, I was freaked out. I thought about the situation I was crying and shaking. I later found out Mr. K was on a downward spiral. He had been on drugs when I ran into him, and he was arrested two days later.

At the boardwalk, for jumping on cars and screaming at people. I feel lucky that I walked away from that situation. Even though it was creepy and it sucked, it could have been much worse, as he wasn't in his right mind. So Mr. K, let's not ever meet again. The Gastations attract all walks of life. Everyone needs to go to one at some point, whether they own a car or not. While I've experienced a lot of strange and scary encounters, a lot of them have involved random shady men at gas stations.

I'm a 28 year old woman now, but when this happened, I was newly 21. I was like a baby deer fresh on its wobbly legs. I felt new to the world after being sheltered and stifled my whole life. I was bound and determined to rebel. I was driven to do stupid things due to my brain still being in the process of fully developing. This gave me a somewhat false sense of bravery since I thought I was untouchable and invincible at the time. I also had undiagnosed bipolar 2 disorder and bouts of mania where I felt like I could fight

God. All of this clouded my sense of judgment, resulting in things happening that could have been avoided. That being said, I still had some sense about me. I had gotten off from work in a popular strip mall in the area I'll refer to as Scary Dale. Scary Dale had a lot of interesting characters that loitered around, making it a place I didn't enjoy being alone in, especially at night. I've had a lot of sketchy and aggressive behavior from others directed at me in this area. I lived

and worked in this area, so I felt like I didn't have much of a choice. I just had to deal with whoever I came across as safely as possible. On this particular day, I got off later at night. I planned to pick up Japanese Hibachi and then head to the gas station for cigarettes, gas, and drinks. Then I was going to go to my then-boy friend's friend's house to enjoy the Hibachi and have a smoke sash. After successfully picking up our food, I had two choices. I could either go to the Spink's gas station or the BP gas station. The BP gas station was right in the middle of Scarydale. Since it was nighttime, I was apprehensive about going there, but ultimately decided

to go since I was friendly with the owners. I grabbed a few sodas and some cigarettes without incident inside the store. I felt like I was home free as I was walking out of the store since nothing weird had happened. I was thinking about how I would soon be safe in my car and on my way to see my then boyfriend went out from the side of the building, appeared a scrawny, disheveled man. He was wearing cheap red sunglasses. They looked like those children sunglasses that can be found at the dollar store and there was one lens missing. Hey, baby, where you going?

Come here, baby. The man walked alongside me, grabbed my hand, then continued, you got a boyfriend, baby? I want to be your boyfriend. He lifted my hand to his lips in an attempt to charismatically kiss my hand, but I snapped it away before his lips made contact. I have a boyfriend. Thanks, I replied politely. It seemed like he was on something, but I couldn't tell what.

Usually the best way to deal with that type of situation is to remain calm and polite, and hope you don't flip any switches in anyone. Unfazed by my statement, he laughed and continued, Is your boyfriend gonna beat me up or something? Come here, baby. I backed away from him in an attempt to get him out of my personal space, but he continued to follow and asked, is he bigger than me? I don't know what he meant by that, as that could mean a few different things.

Without caring for him to specify, I yelled, he'll kick your ass! Then I rushed, almost through him, to my driver's side door. I slammed the door immediately when I was inside and locked my car doors. My keys were fumbling in my shaky hands as I struggled to find the right key to shove into the ignition. Once I did, my old afford explorer roared alive as if it understood the assignment. The man in the cheap sunglasses was standing at my driver's side door. He yanked and jiggled the door handle to no avail and pounded on the window into feet. I left like a bat out

of hell, wheel squealing in victory. I looked at my white knuckles, gripping the steering wheel as I drove on fumes for 10 miles until I made it to another gas station to fill my tank. I arrived at my friend's house, shaking, as I shared the details of my scary encounter, and I complained about being stressed driving with a low fuel light illuminated. My boyfriend and his friend were upset and concerned, but they quickly cheered me up with lively conversation, weed, and good food. I'm not sure what the guy with the cheap sunglasses intended to do, but I never saw him again, even though I continued working and living in that area a while after that.

To the weird dude with the cheap sunglasses who followed me to my car at the BP gas station, let's not meet. I turned 30 this year. With this milestone coming up, I've been thinking about a part of my childhood that I have no real memories of. I only have accounts of what happened during this time. I've been told about the things I did in the places I visited. I've even been told about giving a testimony at a trial, which I remember absolutely nothing about. It all started with my mother. She was very young when she met my older sister's father, let's call him Joe. Three days before her 19th birthday, my mother gave birth to my sister. I don't know much about her relationship

with Joe before I was born. I just know that it had a ton of back and forth. It was very on and off. During one of these off-breaks, my mother met my father and got pregnant with twins, but the relationship didn't last as my mother was only his lover on the side. He would never leave his wife and children for us. At some point, in my early life, Joe came back into the picture and they got back together. He moved in with us and wound up staying for years this time. My mother lived in an abusive relationship with Joe and didn't seem to be able to walk

away from it. Until around the time that I was five, something happened that would make anyone give up on a relationship, and it happened during a time that my sister was not living with us due to some special circumstances. As I said before, I blocked out large chunks of this timeline, so I asked my mom about what really happened. When she realized I was not kidding and didn't actually remember what happened, she told me the facts.

She thought that I had remembered everything but just chose not to talk about it. In mid-1998, on a day like any other, my mother came home from work and went straight into the shower. As soon as she came out of the bathroom, I approached her and said that I had a secret to tell her. At that moment, she said that she thought it was funny that I, at five years old, came up to her and said in a serious, conspiratorial tone that I had a secret. She assumed that I had something to say about my older sister, but the secret I had was far worse than she had imagined. Earlier that day, my older sister had confided in me that her father, her biological father, had been assaulting her for some time.

I imagined that the seriousness of what my sister was saying didn't weigh much on me since I didn't even understand what sex was. My sister described the ax to me, which I later relayed to my mother who clearly understood what was actually going on. My mother said it took everything in her not to immediately break down in front of me, and she managed to hold her emotions in. Even more amazing, she managed to pretend that nothing was wrong when Joe got home from work, only moments later. She then covertly called my uncle, who was a policeman at the time, and told him everything.

She asked him to send a car to arrest Joe. My uncle forwarded the request right away, but it still took some time for the police to arrive since the abuse wasn't in progress, and it wasn't an actual emergency situation. While waiting in the meantime, my mother struggled to appear calm and normal. She had to endure getting a foot massage from Joe while waiting, when all she could do was think about kicking him in the face or even murdering him for what he had done. It took nearly an hour for the cops to arrive and arrest him, but when they did, he went to prison right away where he waited for his trial.

My sister and I were questioned as witnesses by the judge in a private room, and we had court-ordered consultations with a child psychologist for six months. As my mother told me all of this, a fear I had never felt before seized me. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I got the impression that she didn't share everything with me. She didn't meet my eyes during certain parts of our conversation, and she was vague about what my relationship with Joe was like. She also didn't fully explain why I needed to be involved in the core processes. It doesn't make sense that I needed to testify and attend therapy sessions when all I had done was share information.

I still don't clearly remember much from this time in my life, and I don't want to. I prefer to see these blocked out memories as a blessing. This happened probably 5 or 6 years ago. I think I was 18 at the time. For starters, I lived in a city where neighborhoods and forests kind of blend together. There are plenty of wooded areas where people go to have bonfires and parties. One night after discovering that all of our usual spots were crowded with people, I suggested to my friends that we go to a spot nearby that I had been to a few times. I had been there multiple times, but only during the day. The street where we parked was maybe 200 feet from the tree line.

It's located in your average middle-class neighborhood. Nothing crazy is really known to happen there. So we walked into the tree line to a clearing, started a bonfire, and we were all having a good time. Some of us were drinking and smoking a bit. Myself included. About 45 minutes passed, and I was a little intoxicated, but not too intoxicated. Over the sound of our quiet music and my friends talking,

I heard something odd. I couldn't make out what it was, so I figured, maybe I was just hearing things. Then another 10 minutes went by, and I heard it again. A little more clearly this time. The sound that I heard still sounded relatively far away, but it sounded like Velcro tearing at first. I stopped, and I kind of just sat there, trying to listen while my friends carried on laughing and talking. None of them seemed to notice, and that's when I heard a sound that I was very familiar with, a zapping noise. Like what you would hear from a

taser, very brief but unmistakable. My stomach dropped, and I looked around at everybody frantically. My girlfriend at the time was the first to notice my distress. She asked me what was wrong and I explained what I had heard. She immediately started worrying. She got all of our friends to be quiet and we sat there in silence, just listening. Then we all heard it, an electric zap. Brief again, but we all knew that sound. We started to panic a bit, and we quickly put the bonfire out while asking each other what that was and trying to figure out where exactly it was

coming from. We were all scared to walk back to our cars. It was maybe a five minute walk to the street, but it was dark. We all mustered the courage to finally walk the path out, and thankfully we didn't run into anyone. We got to the street, and we were headed to our cars, nervously laughing and relishing and being under the street lamps again, until I saw him. Luckily I saw him first. He was walking towards us, not at us, just walking towards us in the same direction which we came from. He was slightly to the right of us. He was holding a stick of some sort. It scared me for a brief moment, but I calmed myself.

It was a pretty safe neighborhood that we were in, and I knew it really well. It was really common to see people walking at night, but then I noticed that he was looking right at us. His stare is burned into my mind. We passed each other. My friends and I were all silent as we were having a stare down with this random man. That's when it happened. Without breaking eye contact, he held up a pole and flashed his creepy smile. His eyes were wide open. The end of his stick lit up brightly, and that same zapping sound happened again, much louder this time.

He was holding a cattle prod. We lived in a city. There were no farmlands nearby. There was absolutely no reason for him to have a cattle prod. My friends and I were silently terrified as he walked past us, only twenty feet away, and went straight into the woods without a flashlight or anything else. We all got into our cars and peeled out of there. We never went back to that spot.

When I was 19 years old, I made the mistake of dating a guy named Tyler. I went to a small religious school where he and I had nearly all of our classes together. Initially he seemed normal. He was an honor student and an outstanding youth music pastor. As we spent time together, I found that we had the same taste in music, movies, and even hobbies. It was sweet at first, it was as if he and I were meant to meet. He would meet me outside of my dorm to walk me to class or dinner every single day. It was all very lovely until I started referring to our shared favorite movies. He seemed to not know most quotable lines from those movies. He also never seemed to know the details about how these movies ended.

I brushed this off as he told me that it had quote unquote been a while since he has watched any of these movies, and remember he referred to these movies as his favorites. I started to suspect that he was lying since he continued saying that he liked every single thing that I liked. This led to me catching him digging himself deeper into lies. It started to seem disingenuous. It was like he was only saying he shared my interests to relate to me. Then his lies started being about me specifically. He began lying to our friends about things that I had done. He spread so many stories of me, aggressively arguing with him about

where to eat. He said that I was using his classwork to cheat and get better grades. For context, I was an honors medical student, so I absolutely did not need his help. When I asked Tyler about these lies, they seemed minor to him, and he would just gaslight me into thinking that I had remembered events and details incorrectly. He often lied about very small things that were never really detrimental, which I assumed was to distract me from noticing that his stories were off. Over time, his lies progressed to the point that he claimed I was constantly begging him to go skinny dipping with other guys and have kinky sex.

At the time I was very religious and conservative, so this was not true and not in my character at all. As a reminder, this guy was a music pastor for a local youth group. In the public eye, he was this praised leader of children. He acted like the perfect Christian man, but behind the scenes, it was a completely different story. Cracks started to form, and he started to expose his specific brand of crazy to me. He started pretending to be consumed by demons. He would have a completely normal day out with friends, often at church events, but when he and I were alone, he started pretending to have

convulsions and visions. For example, we would be watching a movie together, and suddenly he would start shaking and claiming to seed dark figures swirling around the room. He would start shaking and claiming to seed dark figures swirling around the room. He never put on a convincing performance, so it was obvious to me that he was faking, but it was weird. He started telling me that I was going to die young in a car crash as he had seen it in one of these visions. He would randomly zone out and then tell me a prophecy that he had heard from God directly when he snapped out of it.

He convinced me that any doubt I had about his visions and prophecies was because my faith wasn't strong enough. After all, he was a youth pastor, and it seemed possible that I just didn't have enough faith especially compared to him. He totally manipulated me. That's when he started dressing in all black and disappearing for long bouts of time at night. When asked about his whereabouts, he said that he was having conversations with God.

I can't tell you why I put up with this for so long, but he was extremely manipulative. He made me feel like it was God's plan for us to be together. He gaslit me into thinking that he just had a stronger relationship with God that I needed to respect. His strong relationship with God and his influential position in the church started to make it hard for me to continue to think that he was lying. As part of his manipulation, he said that I couldn't tell anybody about his fights with demons, otherwise it would worsen and possibly spread to other people. To be clear, I didn't believe his demon storyline, but it came up so infrequently that it was just easy for me to ignore.

He started to insist on walking me everywhere. He always met me outside of my dorm room. He always showed up whether he was invited or not, and everyone continued to view him as this great guy. So he was constantly let into my dorm building without question. My room made even let him into our room when I wasn't home, so that I would come home

and he'd just be there. I was beginning to feel like there was never a moment without him. I became suffocated by his stories about speaking with God or fighting spirits. He always kept me up super late and told me that he was going to harm himself since the fight with evil was too much for a normal man. He told me that if I didn't help him, or if I left him, it would ruin God's plan for him to save the souls of the lost. Tyler executed this classic cult tactic well. He started bragging to me about how great he was at manipulating others, since he was studying psychology and communication.

He said that he could even manipulate someone's emotions into making them do anything he wished. I was pretty tired of everything, so I began to confront him about all of his lives and told him that I doubted what he was saying. He took this as an opportunity to tell people that I was a witch. At the school we went to, we had chapel services several times a week with prayer circles. During one of these prayer circles, he started praying out loud for my salvation. He crafted this prayer and implied that I was following down a dark path due to my wicked interests.

He also announced that I was struggling with a porn addiction. All of this in front of church leaders and my friends. Even though none of this was remotely true, people left that prayer circle, only believing that I was a witch who was addicted to porn. I felt so stuck. I questioned if I had weak faith and assumed I needed guidance from Tyler to find God. But I finally left him when I told him about the childhood trauma I was struggling to process. He manipulated me into treating him like he was my personal pastor with whom I would

share all my secrets. One night he asked me about my sins, the sins that I needed to let go of. He asked me if there was any guilt I harbored. I told him that during my childhood I had been assaulted. This was something I had never told anyone before, and it was incredibly awful to talk about. In response, he began crying, extremely hard, awkwardly hard. I thought that he was just being overly empathetic.

He said that he understood my situation. He said that he understood what I was going through, since he had assaulted his younger sister. That's right. His way of comforting me was to let me know that he understood how I felt having been the perpetrator of assault himself. This revered youth music pastor was a compulsive liar and a pedophile. I ended things immediately. Tyler told me he was going to kill himself. He then began bawling, but I no longer cared. He said that I was betraying God by abandoning his plan. Leaving this relationship felt like leaving a cult.

I had to rework so many lies he had led me to believe. Tyler ruined my trust in religious organizations, and I haven't attended church since. He's still a youth music pastor, and he was able to successfully convince all of my old friends that I was crazy and a witch. He's currently dating one of my old college friends, and I hope that she escapes. I would not be surprised to see him end up in prison one day. Something else of note is that he had this strange fascination with death and serial killers. I wouldn't be surprised if he loses it one day and kills someone, or starts some radical

cult to convince other people to kill and God's name. He's twisted and so supremely good at manipulating people. And that is why I firmly believe that there are no good We have some updates for you all concerning the podcast and the TV pilot. The latter of the two is nearing completion, everything is just kind of waiting on me to finish one little piece of music, and we have some other things to finish and post. But we'll have an official announcement very soon, and we've already started pre-production on episode 2. Exciting things are happening there. We did away with the individual episode art for the moment, according to some listener feedback, many were missing when new episodes were being released because they passed it

up on their podcast app, not recognizing the cover and expecting the classic default art to show up. I spoke with my artist and we agreed that it'd be easier to keep it consistent with the default art, or we may try to come up with something that's a modification on that original art. Everything we do here is simply to make the listener experience as best as it can be. That leads me to the final detail of Time Stamps. The Time Stamps are back due to popular demand. We took them out this season as I was getting occasional feedback from listeners, saying that they were getting dropped a few minutes into a story when they would click on the

Time Stamp link. This is because of ad placement changes that occur when using dynamic advertising. However, the majority leaned pro times stamp, so we'll keep it that way. Just remember that those are estimates and subject to change based on ad placement changes. I want to thank Bethany Watson for appearing on the podcast this week. Bethany is a wonderfully talented actress, podcaster, and Twitch streamer. The podcast that she does with her boyfriend and filmmaker Dennis Callow is called The Check-In and covers all things comical about living and working together.

You can find the check-in wherever you're listening to this podcast. They are very close friends of the show and I'm always happy to get a chance to work with them in any capacity. Anyways, thank you all for listening. This week you have heard, where did they take us by Frost, the dude with the notebook by Madison? He had a friendly smile by Queen Massive Cake, Mr. K by Liv, the dude with the cheap sunglasses by Jess. I don't remember and I don't want to, from the girl in the middle of the world, the man

with the stick by Confusionitis, and finally there are no good Tyler's by Riley. All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. If you have a story to share, make sure you send it over to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com. Let's not meet TruHorror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. Also don't forget to check out my other podcasts like The Old Time Radio cast, which will be doing new episodes of very soon, odd trails, my paranormal podcast, with my co-host

Brandon Lanier, and finally welcome to Paradise It Sucks, all over at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts. And don't forget if you're a patron. Stick around after the music for your extended ad free version of this week's episode. If you want to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today. We'll see you all later in the week for your one shot episode and next week for a brand new full episode of Let's Not Meet.

Everyone, stay safe. This story pertains to a very dark period.