Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 12x19: Highway Encounter with a Serial Killer (Live Stream)

Episode Date: May 6, 2024

Stories in this episode: I Escaped An Intruder by "Playing Along" | _loudandproud_ (1:26) Bare Feet | SettledSnow (11:24) Highway Encounter With a Serial Killer | KidChawlzRock from the 3AM Scary Stories Podcast (20:53) Maybe My Ex? | AlternativeStatus644 (28:01) Man Claimed He was from The Police | hmubro (36:29) My Night Out in Boystown | Fabulous_Cucumber_40 (42:30) Barely Made it Out of the Woods | sweet_tangeriine (49:47) Extended Patreon Content: Saved by My Mom's Call | Kira Gunmen on the Hill | Arson He Claimed to Possibly Be a Distant Relative | Sunflower Dick, The Predator Photographer | Soul Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. Follow: - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ Thanks to Soren Narnia (Knifepoint Horror), Shelby Novak (Scare You To Sleep),  Amanda Goodness/Cassidy Liston (Drinking The Kool Aid), Brandon Lanier (Odd Trails), and Jennifer Hollywood for appearing on the live stream! Check out their shows wherever you get your podcasts!    Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails and the Old Time Radiocast at CrypticCountyPodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts!    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! 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].  For 50% off your first order, head to Smalls.com/MEET and use code MEET. New DraftKings Casino players can start playing with just five bucks and get one hundred back instantly in Casino Credits. Download the app and use code MEET to book your one-way ticket to fun with DraftKings Casino! Start the Good Habit at https://tryfum.com/meet to save 10% off the Journey Pack today. This episode is brought to you by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at betterhelp.com/notmeet 10% off your first month and get on your way to being your best self.

This podcast contains adult language and content. Listener discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com. Enjoy the show. Hello, everyone. It's been a while since we've had one of our Supergroup livestream episodes of Let's Not Meet, and we're well overdue. If you missed the livestream, that's okay. We have all of the stories and recordings here for you

and a very special edition of Let's Not Meet, featuring the returning voices of Shelby Scott of Scare You to Sleep, Sore Narnia of Knifepoint Horror, Amanda and Cassidy of Drinking the Kool-Aid, and two new guests, including one of the producers of the show, Jennifer Hollywood, and my co-host

for Odd Trails, Brandon Lanier. Everyone, enjoy the show. ["Odd Trails," by Brandon Lanier plays over music playing over video.] In 2014, I moved to England from Canada to gain some work, travel, and life experience, and also to find myself. Once I was over there, I ended up living in Essex with three other roommates. They were all women, all a bit older than I was. At the time I was 24, Megan was 31, Cherry was 34, and Cassie was 38. Megan was from New York, Cherry was from New Jersey, and Cassie was from Poland. All four of us shared a three-story flat. The back wall

of our home was completely made of glass and it looked out into our fenced-in garden. This was the area of the house where our living room and kitchen were located. The house had an interesting dynamic to say the least. I have tons of stories from that time in my life. I adored all of my roommates except for Cherry. After living with Cherry for seven months, I was over her antics. One day, when I came home from work, I locked the door, made myself something to eat, and went up to bed. I brought some work home with me, so I was just in my nightie with all these papers around me, and I was wearing headphones jamming out. I had headphones on because Cherry was out to dinner with some of her work friends, which meant she was drinking booze.

And I knew that soon after, a tantrum would surely come. I just didn't want to have to listen to her screaming and crying. I was busy working on stuff anyway, so I just didn't want to deal with any of that. I was completely focused on what I was working on until I felt something. I looked up to see a man standing over me. I didn't register it right away, so I dismissively said, Cherry's room is on the second floor and continued to work. Cherry regularly brought home strange men.

But he didn't leave. Again, I said, Cherry's room is downstairs, you— I'm not here for Cherry. He interrupted. A cold chill iced my veins as my fight or flight kicked in and I started surveying the situation. I looked him up and down and noticed he had a bottle of Prosecco in one hand and a knife in the other. He was about 5'10", with wild, muddy brown hair and black eyes. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt and one side of his collar was popped up and he

spoke with a distinct Manchester accent. Once I focused in, I realized his eyes were black because his pupils were completely dilated. Shit. I'm in trouble, I thought to myself. I needed an escape plan, but unfortunately, this man was standing in between me and my bedroom door. I knew that I needed to get downstairs, but I also knew I needed for him to think it was his idea.

So I decided to play along. Just then, he used his knife to pop the cork of the bottle and Prosecco started flowing onto my carpet. I said, oh no, let's clean that up. I prefer to drink out of a proper flute anyway. He nodded and replied, yeah, you're a proper classy bird. Let's go. As we made our way out of my room, I tried to act as naturally as possible. I tried not to show that I was shaking all over, and I tried to control my breathing. We took the long journey down all three

floors to the main floor of my flat. He had the back of my nightie bunched up in one hand, and I could feel the point of the knife grazing my back as it was still in his hand. I was trying to speak with him playfully as we walked down the stairs. I couldn't tell you what I was saying since I was most likely rambling. Honestly, I couldn't hear anything over the beating of my heart in my ears. We got to the bottom of the stairs where there was a hallway to my left that led to the front door. To our right, which was much closer to us, was the kitchen and living room.

We made our way into the kitchen and I pointed to the cabinets that had the wine glasses. He said he already knew where they were and started towards them. With the kitchen table now between us, I knew it was my time to run, so I immediately burst into a sprint down the hallway toward the front door. My hands fumbled over the locks, shaking and sweating. When I finally swung the door open, I saw two men walking across the street. They must have been walking home from the train, as there was a big train station right in front of our home.

I called out to them for help, and suddenly I was flung onto the ground. The little pebbles that pierced my skin sent sharp pains where they jabbed. The intruder pushed me out of the way to try to run and escape. One of the men chased after the intruder while the other told me to go inside while he surveilled the outside of my home. So I went inside, locked the doors, and called the police. While I was on the phone with dispatch,

I manically ran around the house to double check all the windows and doors. Then, suddenly, I heard a loud bang on my door. I informed the dispatcher of the banging, and she said that the police weren't at my place yet. But I thought it might be one of the gentlemen who helped me. So I went to look out through the peephole. And it was him.

The intruder. He came back. He was banging on my door, screaming that I had his glasses. And he was yelling at me that he wasn't done with me yet. I absolutely freaked out. The dispatcher attempted to calm me down, but I was losing my ever-loving mind. She then said, they're pulling onto your street now.

You should hear the sirens. And I did. Thank God. The intruder then blasted off trying to run away. One officer jumped out of the passenger side while the car was still moving and chased after him. The second officer came into my home and interviewed me and the two gentlemen.

Then he collected evidence and took photos. And after some time of him being there, Cherry came home and freaked out. Once the situation was explained to her, she said, oh my god, I'm so glad I wasn't home. That could have been me. Yeah, thanks, Cherry. It's all about you. The next morning, I was called in to identify

the man that the police had in custody. I pointed him out and I went to a little room where an officer pulled out an evidence bag. He asked me if the contents of the bag were mine. They were. There were several pairs of my underwear and photos taken from my home. The officer informed me that it was apparent that the intruder had been stalking me for some time now. He estimated three months. He had made a nest on top of a hill that overlooked our home, specifically the living room and kitchen.

He was a known registered offender and drug dealer. He then told me how lucky I was to get out practically unharmed. Others weren't so lucky. So to the man who stalked me and broke into my home, let's not meet again. However, I would love to run into the two gentlemen who helped me again. I am thankful for them every single day. Cats make wonderful companions. I see it in the relationships my closest friends have with their own cats. They're so happy and fulfilled, just like I am with my pets.

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That's the best offer that you'll find, but you have to use my code MEAT for 50% off your first order. One last time, that's promo code MEAT for 50% off your first order plus free shipping at Smalls.com slash meat. Now back to the show. There's an abandoned house between my town and the next town over. It's right on one of the country roads that connects the two towns.

I've been to it before and even went inside twice with my sister and my best friend. It's an old house that dates back centuries, according to the bank records that I was able to find. Plus you can just tell it's pretty old by the design. The house is two stories with a basement and there's lots of furniture and objects strewn about inside. It's far from empty, but you can tell

that it hasn't been lived in for decades. It just seems like whoever previously owned it just disappeared one day, leaving everything behind. The way I was able to get in before was through the cellar door in the basement. There's an entrance to the cellar outside, which has been broken open and propped up with some big sticks.

My first visits were around two years ago, and I hadn't gone back there in a while. But then another friend I hadn't gone with before expressed interest in seeing the house since I told him it's an interesting place to explore. So last summer I told him that I'd take him. I never felt that I was in danger on my previous trips so I was expecting the same with this trip. When we went to the house we parked across the street from it in the parking lot of one of the industrial buildings nearby since we didn't want to be questioned by anyone.

The road was rural but far from unused, and my friend, being braver than me despite my previous visits, led the way across the street and to the front of the house. He asked me a couple of questions about it as we were approaching. He was particularly curious about what kind of stuff I'd found in there when I was exploring it before. I told him that the kitchen still had expired food in it and that there was a board game set upstairs that I ended up bringing home with me. As we walked from the front of the house

and down the side leading to the cellar entrance, I made note that there was a lot more brush than when I had gone previously. I'd gone in the spring when I went with my sister and my best friend, and I never experienced the thick brush that I was now carefully navigating through. I commented to my friend about there being a lot more foliage than when I had gone before, and we worked together to figure out a path to the cellar. Eventually, after pushing through some branches, we found the cellar door, which was broken and propped open just as I had last seen it. We talked briefly about being nervous

as we took in the view of the cellar that led into this dark abandoned house. I remember being intimidated while looking at the opening, and I made note that some of the sticks propping open the cellar didn't look familiar to me. I didn't state this out loud, though, however. I thought it was just my anxiety. My friend and I debated on who should go first, and he determined, since I was the expert, I should head in first.

I was hesitant, but after a good five minutes of breathing and calming myself down, I started down the steps leading to the cellar. It was an awkward entrance as half the cellar was collapsed. There was very little room left for maneuvering. You had to duck under the part of the cellar door that was still intact, then inch your feet down the steps, and finally turn your body sideways to fit through the small gap to get into the basement. It took me a long time to get into the basement after ducking under the door since my nerves

came back for a second. Overall, I made it in just fine, and my friend followed very quickly, which I appreciated. As we both stood in the corner of the basement we took it in. I turned my phone's flashlight on and so did my friend. There was a spiderweb woven across the path going up the stairs to the first floor of the house. I looked around and found some sort of tool to clear the spiderweb. I swiped it through.

Then I tossed the tool onto the concrete floor. My friend and I talked quietly. I don't remember what about, but we quickly fell silent as I heard footsteps walking on the floorboards above our heads. It almost seemed like whoever was up there was heading to the stairs that led down to the basement. I remember this part pretty clearly. As I looked at my friend, I noticed he didn't seem to react to the footsteps I was hearing.

I looked at him him suddenly very worried. And before I could even say anything, he said, we need to go. Then he turned around and practically jumped up the stairs leading outside. I remember thinking he got out insanely fast. I could see him turn and reach his hand back in to help pull me up. I was a bit slower than he was, but I also got up the stairs pretty quickly and he pulled me through the opening. I landed on my hands and knees outside after I escaped to the cellar and I immediately stood up, facing the weeds.

I turned around to my friend who was crouched staring down toward the cellar. I told him that we should leave and he turned away and then he told me to go through the weeds first. I pretty much just ran through the brush, definitely getting caught up by something, but we made it through, and we were back in front of the house very quickly. My friend kept urging me to stay ahead of him as he watched behind us,

and then he flashed his light on the windows on the first floor of the front of the house. I asked him what he was doing and if he was okay. He didn't answer me at first. So I asked him if he'd heard the footsteps before we bolted out the basement. He turned to me and said that he'd heard them and that's why he was watching the cellar

to see if anyone was following us out. He continued saying that after he pulled me up to guide me away. He turned back and saw the bare feet of someone standing at the bottom of the cellar stairs. Because of the cellar's dilapidated structure, he could only see their feet and part of their legs. That's when he told me to go through the weeds first. As we made our way through the brush he kept looking back. He never saw whoever was standing there come up

the cellar steps. They also didn't move away. They just stood there as my friend followed me away from the house. I didn't believe him at first. I thought he was just trying to scare me, but I had this serious tone in his voice and this concerned look he gave me after telling me he wasn't trying to make me laugh or lighten the mood. I still asked if he was lying,

and he adamantly said that he was not. We stood for a second, not really saying anything before we both agreed to go back across the street toward our cars. We stood by our cars for a while, watching the house to see if anything or anyone would come out, but nothing appeared. After talking for a bit about how crazy that was, and him reassuring me that he was, telling the truth,

it started to rain, so we decided to call it a night. crazy that was and him reassuring me that he was, telling the truth. It started to rain, so we decided to call it a night. I fully believe him, especially since he's always stood by what he saw. I haven't gone back to that house since, and I like to tell myself that whoever was in that house was just a person seeking shelter for whatever reason. However, I still get shivers to this day thinking about how close that person was to me as I scrambled up to get out of the cellar. Let's rewind back to the days of chillaxing on the beach and all-day fun with Spring Break

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See terms at casino.draftkings.com slash promos. Restrictions apply. Now back to the show. Back in the 80s, my Aunt Kay was in her early 20s. Before she married my uncle, she would drive long distances back and forth between her parents and my uncle to visit since it was a transitional period for them. He had just graduated and she hadn't moved out of her parents yet. The drive that she would take was a long drive across several states through the desert,

which took hours. This desolate highway that she was on had stretches of road that lasted hundreds of miles where you often wouldn't see other drivers, let alone a gas station. So when Aunt Kay was planning her visit, she began one of these journeys. A couple of hours into the drive, she noticed a dark vehicle in her mirror

that was slowly catching up to her. She hardly noticed them as she continued to sing along to her music, but the vehicle got aggressively close and she started paying attention. She turned off the music and looked into her rearview mirror. The vehicle was flashing its brights and the driver was pointing at her car and motioning for her to pull over. Alarmed, she quickly slowed and began to look for a good place to pull off of the road to see what must be wrong with her car.

The second she began to pull off of the road, she said that she felt and heard, as clear as day, don't pull over. Call it God, intuition, or just a gut feeling, but a jolt of adrenaline and fear shot through Aunt Kay's body, so she hit the gas and peeled back onto the highway. Then with her heart pumping, Aunt Kay silently asked herself what the hell was going on, as she saw the vehicle peel out behind her. The dark vehicle continued to closely follow and the driver was still flashing their brights and motioning for

her to pull over. Fear and confusion set in as Aunt Kay continued to question what was happening. Why was the driver so adamant about having her pull over? Was there something wrong with her car? And what the hell was that overwhelming warning that she felt? It would have been a severe situation if her car broke down out there, especially since this was well before cell phones. But she pressed on. Just as her resolve wavered, she started questioning the warning that she felt, so she began to slow down, but the dark vehicle picked up speed. Then the car entered the oncoming traffic lane to come level with my aunt's car.

The driver smiled, pointed, motioning his hands, and mouthed the words, pull over to my aunt. She said that the second she looked into his eyes, she felt pure evil. She felt a horribly sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and again heard the words in her head warning her, don't pull over. She described him as looking scary and greasy. And she said that she noticed that he was missing a couple of teeth so his smile was a smile that she wouldn't forget and it sent chills down her spine.

This quickly dispelled any thoughts that she had of pulling over so she put the pedal to the metal to try and lose him. Then he chased after her and started mimicking her driving style. When she slowed down, he slowed down. When she sped up, so did he. It got to the point that he began to try and push her car off of the road. Aunt Kay was to the point of tears as this creep continued to terrorize her, alone, out in the middle of tears as this creep continued to terrorize her alone, out in the middle

of nowhere. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aunt Kay saw a couple of semis off in the distance. She felt if she could only get close, or even in between those trucks, she would be safe, so she went for it. The driver continued to flash his lights and honk his horn while trying to hit her car until she got close enough to the trucks. As she got in between them, she saw the dark vehicle slow down significantly

and eventually it disappeared from view entirely. She stuck with the trucks for a couple of hours until she felt safe enough to pull over at a gas station, where she began to cry. Fast forward several years later. My aunt and uncle were married. He was working at a law firm as a high-profile criminal prosecutor in Las Vegas. She was now a full-time mom of several young children. Ever since I've known my aunt, she's been obsessed with true crime.

Dateline 2020 and Unsolved Mysteries were always playing on the TV at her house. This day was no different. She was folding laundry in the kitchen while listening to the TV in the other room. The panelist of whichever show that she was watching was talking about a man who was being interviewed on death row. As she paired another match of socks, she heard the man describe one of his tactics for procuring victims. According to him, he would wait on the side of the highway.

If a car went by with a family, he'd wait. If a car went by with a family, he'd wait. If a car went by with a male driver, he'd still wait. But every so often, a car would go by with a pretty young woman driving alone. So he'd pull out when he saw them and follow them. I'd flash my brights, honk, and motion for them to pull over," he explained. Aunt Kay, paralyzed in the other room, just couldn't listen. When they would eventually pull over, he continued, I'd tell them to pop the hood so that I could tell them what was wrong with their car. They would, and I would yank a couple of wires.

When the car wouldn't start for them, I'd tell them no problem. My buddy has a shop in the next town. I can give you a ride, and he'll give you a fair deal." As my aunt continued to listen, she slowly moved to the living room. They'd get in, and I'd kill them. Then I'd just bury them wherever in the desert, he said. When asked how many times he did this, he responded, I have no idea. I lost count. I don't think they'll ever find all of the bodies.

And how many got away? Asked the interviewer. Two or three, he answered. As my aunt stood staring at the TV, she realized she was staring at the same toothless grin that she saw on the highway that day. It was Henry Lee Lucas. A few years ago, I was in a relationship with a guy named James.

Our relationship lasted for about three years. In the beginning, he was wonderful. He supported me during my chemotherapy. He was funny, kind, a little bit crazy, but not in a creepy way. He helped me with surviving through my sickness, and I truly don't think I would be alive if it weren't for him. But, during the last year of our relationship, he changed. He was completely different.

He had become a jealous liar and he wound up cheating on me. This was around the time that he decided he was interested in having new experiences and he had also been taking drugs. I didn't even realize the extent of his drug usage until our breakup, and by that time, he was a total addict. Honestly, I had a lot of pity for him, so after the breakup, I spent six months helping him. I was still going to school after our breakup, but he would always come to my home, in pain,

trying to find the strength to fight his addiction. He finally agreed to go to an institution to get some professional help, but he began doing drugs only three hours after leaving the facility. This was challenging for me, especially since I chose my university to relocate close to him. So I didn't have anyone else for support. No friends, no family. James was essentially the only one I had, but due to his addiction and his unwillingness to stop or get professional help, I had to cut ties with him too.

One month after I cut him off, some strange things started happening. Oddly enough, it began with my cat. One night I went out to see a movie, and on my way home, it started raining. I remember I left my cat outside, and my cat enjoys being outside, but hates the rain, like every other cat, I suppose. So when I remembered that he was outside, I started to rush. But then, when I did open the door, there was my cat on the sofa. At first I thought to myself, what a dumbass, the cat wasn't even outside at all. But then I hugged him and he was completely soaking wet. It was really strange, but I just brushed it off. I thought perhaps one of my neighbors had opened the door for him. I kind of just forgot about it. One week later though, I started realizing that some of my clothes were going missing.

Specifically, it seemed my underwear was going missing. But I have ADHD, so it was pretty easy for me to brush this off as well. And I was quick to blame myself for losing anything around my house, especially my own clothes. Then, my food and some plates started going missing. Even one of my favorite bowls, which I would never lose or misplace, it completely disappeared. Not to mention I was living in a pretty small apartment so it was tough to truly justify losing anything, but again I just blamed myself and I even started referring to myself as the magician, you know, joking about how I could make just about anything disappear.

I finally felt like I had lost my mind when I returned from visiting my parents, came back into my apartment, and discovered my place had totally changed. The neighbor's mail was on my table along with a mysterious pair of headphones. The photos I had hung on the wall were all upside down, and there was a black umbrella by my bed. I didn't even own an umbrella. It was so scary coming home to all of this. The first thing I did was call my mom, and then the police. Yes, mom first, always mom first. The officer I spoke to was nice, but told me there was really nothing they could do except take a report and file my complaint. I had no idea what was going on,

or who could possibly be doing this. My now ex never had a pair of my keys, and after we broke up, I thought we were on good terms. I couldn't tell if something was trying to hurt me or scare me, or maybe it was just a strange prank or joke? Well, the joke did not land. I slept with a knife for two years after all of this stuff started happening. I told my neighbors about all of this, and they were scared too.

We had a common basement and found out that someone had been breaking in there during the night. We found some supplies, including a blanket and a plate, neither of which were mine, and they had clearly been used by someone who was staying down there. A few weeks went by and one evening I had to go to the grocery store. I was gone for maybe 30 minutes. And when I came back home, there was a sticky note with a smiley face drawn on it stuck to my bedroom mirror.

It freaked me out so bad I left immediately. I called the police again and again. They were no help. They asked me if it was possible that I had stuck the note there and just forgotten about it. I didn't even have sticky notes. I told them that and they didn't offer any additional assistance. After that I stayed with my mom for a week and spent all of my saved up money on a security

camera. I posted to social media asking for help trying to figure out what was going on, since the police were no help. I was feeling totally distraught. When I returned to my place, James' sister came to talk to me. She said that my favorite jacket was at their parents' house. But I remembered wearing this jacket after him and I had broken up. I hadn't seen James' parents for about eight months. So

when she told me about the jacket at their place, I found it challenging to understand how that was even possible. And then, all of the strange things just stopped. I never found out who was responsible, but I had my suspicions. Although I always thought these things could have been done by James, I also suspected my neighbor, who did have a copy of my key. This neighbor only had my key since he fed my cats sometimes, but they were out of the country while most of these things were happening. In the end, I'm just glad that these strange things stopped happening. I've been able to move on, but going through this was one of the scariest things that ever

happened to me. I'll never know who is responsible, which means I'll also never know why it happened either. One thing's for sure, I will always wonder, was this my ex? To whoever was doing that, let's not meet again. I totally get the struggle of trying to get rid of a bad habit. It can feel like you're battling an entire army by yourself. And it makes even the simplest daily tasks feel like daunting challenges. I've been there. However, life is about perseverance.

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Again, get 10% off when you use my code MEET at tryfume.com slash meet. Now back to the show. This is a story that pops back into my mind from time to time. I've only told this story to a few people, but I definitely feel like it deserves a wider audience. It's for sure one of the scariest moments I ever experienced as a child. Back when I was around 10 years old, my mom finally decided that it was time for her to start taking steps toward getting her driver's license. When she began taking driving lessons,

she was struggling a lot, so my dad decided that he wanted to do some additional practice with her. My dad just wanted to be supportive and help her pass her test on the first try. Around this time, my little brother and I were attending swimming lessons at a nearby university. There was a forested area near the university that was essentially this huge student parking area surrounded by trees. This area was basically vacant every weekend. My dad thought this area would be great to take my mom so she could practice driving around for a bit. My little brother and I tagged along them

since we were too young to stay home alone. We brought a football to occupy us while my mom practiced driving. When we arrived at the parking lot, my parents began their driving practice. My little brother and I quickly got bored being in the car with them, so we asked if we could go over to the little grass area on the side of the parking lot to play some football. Our parents let us, since they'd easily be able to keep their eyes on us while driving around. After playing for some time, our parents ended up driving on the other end of the parking

lot. They were farther away from us, but they were still visible, and they were approximately 300 to 400 meters away, which is about the length of three football fields. Then suddenly, this white Toyota pulled into the parking lot. My little brother and I were playing right at the entrance of the lot. The car turned around and stopped on my right side, with their vehicle facing the exit. The driver rolled his window down, said hello, and introduced himself as Thomas.

He looked friendly and young. If I had to guess, he appeared to be about 30. This is where things started to get weird. In the passenger seat, there was a woman concealing her face with an open newspaper. All I could see was long blonde hair, and in the back seat, there was a baby in a car seat. Thomas immediately stated that he was from the police department. He told me and my brother that we had to get into the car because he had to talk to us. My brother actually took two steps toward the vehicle, but

I stuck my arm out in front of his chest as I was sensing something was off. The woman was still covering her face and she hadn't even said a single word yet. Thomas then raised his voice and told us once again to get in the car, or else he'd get out of the car and get us himself. My brother and I froze in fear. The woman abruptly lowered the newspaper and showed her face. Then she told us in the most calm and motherly voice, just listen to the man.

The woman was young, pretty, and looked like the sort of person who wouldn't hurt a fly. At this moment, I began screaming as loud as I could. My brother and I were so focused on Thomas and this lady that we didn't even notice that our dad was already tearing across the parking lot. My mom was still driving, but he hopped out and he was running as fast as he could towards us. He was coming from behind the vehicle that Thomas and

this lady were in, so we didn't see him coming. Right when I started screaming, my dad yelled as loud as he could, hey, who the fuck are you? Get away from my children. As soon as Thomas heard my dad, he realized my brother and I weren't alone. So he threw his car into gear and took off as fast as he could. He most definitely wasn't expecting that. He looked like he shat himself when he heard and saw my dad.

Our dad was furious as he told me and my brother to hurry up back into the car. He was so angry that he didn't even think about calling the police. He was more than ready to deal with Thomas himself. We wound up driving around for the next hour, trying to find Thomas and this lady, but we never could find them. When my dad finally cooled down, he decided that we should call the police. We gave them a call, but we never found out who those people were. This situation taught me to never judge a book by its cover. People can be the most normal and friendly-looking people in the world and still wish evil upon you,

and you would be none the wiser. I'm not sure what they had planned for us, but I'm absolutely sure about one thing. They were not from the police department. When I was growing up, I lived in a border town. Mexico was pretty safe at that time, so high school kids going across the border was no big deal. Many of our parents did it as well. It was the summer before I went to college, and I was working as a cocktail waitress at an upscale club that catered to the white collar residents of the city as well as people who were stationed at the nearby Air Force base. I was becoming friends with another

waitress who worked there. She was a blonde hair, blue eyed girl who was pretty well off. Her parents frequently left her by herself at their house which was by the lake. I was lower income, but she was always really nice to me. The club we worked at closed at 2 a.m. So this meant, if we wanted to have fun after work, we would have to cross over to Mexico since everything was closed on our side of the border. My friend from work had been dating a rich guy from Mexico. She was about 18 at the time and he was 19 or 20. Now that you have some backstory, let's move on to the incident. After one of our shifts, my friend asked if I

wanted to go with her and her boyfriend to a party in Mexico. I agreed and we were picked up in a beautiful black car by her boyfriend's personal driver. When he arrived to pick us up, he had a couple of friends with him. Everyone in the car was good looking and well off. They took us to a club where the owners knew them. As soon as we walked in, the waiters brought us multiple bottles of high-end liquor, mixers, and garnishes. I had a blast and my co-worker's boyfriend's friends were kind and respectful. We were only there for about an hour when the bars started to close,

so then the guys suggested we go to Boys Town. For those who don't know about the US-Mexico border, I should mention that there is a bit of a red light district there that has easy access to drugs and sex workers. I agreed to go because I felt safe with my current group and I like adventure. Plus I'm a bit of a risk taker so I figured, why not? We were then driven in this fancy black car down a dark dirt road outside the city limits of the small town we were in. We drove until we saw the flashing lights of Boys Town. It was like a movie set. We went to the first bar we saw and just… enjoyed the show, so to speak.

The crowd there was a mix of drunk college boys, cowboys, and women looking for their mark. I was surprised to see there really was a donkey show, but it's not what you think. The whole night, my friend's boyfriend and his friends had treated us to drinks. As the night wore on, I was getting drunk, so I needed to use the restroom. I walked down this hallway lit with red lights, and as I was walking, I encountered a sex worker who was wearing nothing but a see-through scarf around her hips. She smiled at me and curled her finger, beckoning me over to a small room. She was beautiful, with wavy black hair.

Being the curious girl I am, I started to give in to the temptation a bit. I smiled and started walking towards her, but then I suddenly felt strange. I stopped in my tracks, as I started to feel very uneasy, but she continued attempting to lure me into one of the small side rooms. I shook my head and returned to the table with my friends, where another drink was waiting for me. I took a couple of sips and began to feel more and more uncomfortable. I told my friends I wasn't feeling well, so I asked them to stop buying drinks for me. This is the scary part. My friend turned me and said, we haven't bought your last few drinks. She said this so casually. It was like it was totally normal that drinks kept showing up for me. I quickly snapped my attention to the bar

and noticed that several men were looking at me. That's when I realized someone I didn't know was sending me drinks. I told the group that I had to leave immediately. I even said if we didn't leave right away, I would make a scene. So, we left. As we headed home, I didn't speak at all. I felt super amped. It was so bizarre. I had never felt like that before, and I haven't felt like that since. My whole demeanor was off, and I felt like I wasn't in control. I got home at about 6 a.m. My mother was waking up when I got home, and she was wondering what I had been up to. I told her that I hung out with my friend from work, her boyfriend, and their friends, but I didn't elaborate on much

else. And I proceeded to stay up for hours since I was so wired. I was trying so hard to act normal, but it was difficult. I'm not sure who was trying to hurt me or trick me that night. Was it the men at the bar? Was the sex worker involved, or was she luring me into something else? Who was buying me the drinks that kept showing up that night? What were the drinks laced with? I'll never know. So to whoever might have had a plan for me that night, let's not meet ever again.

This show is sponsored by BetterHelp. We walk around all day carrying with us different stressors in life, worries about all kinds of different problems. It's not good to keep them all locked inside your head all of the time. It starts to have a very negative effect. Therapy is a safe space to get things off of your chest and to figure out how to work through whatever is weighing you down. With every therapy session that I go through, I find myself learning something new and helpful,

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Visit BetterHelp.com slash not meet today to get 10% off your first month. That's better help. H e l p dot com slash not meet n o t m e e t. Now back to the show. This happened a few years ago. It was pretty late, sometime past 2am. I was living with this pretty abusive boy, and he had gotten really jealous at this party we were at earlier that night. Not even an hour after we'd gotten home, he tossed me out onto our front porch and locked the door behind me. I was knocking and pleading for him to please let me back inside, as I was still wearing what I had worn to the party and it was freezing out. Plus, I wasn't sure what to do, since he had my phone, purse, and wallet in the house with him. So, I just sat on the porch crying. When he turned off the lights both inside and outside of the house, I knew he wasn't going to let me back inside.

I felt so helpless and cold. I thought about knocking on a neighbor's door, though we didn't have many, but I had anxiety about waking any of them up and causing trouble. So instead, I decided I would try to walk to this gas station and motel, which was a little less than a mile away. I figured I could use a phone there and try to call a friend of mine to see if someone could pick me up and let me sleep over. Ironically enough, the road I was walking on was Donner Pass Road, so the freezing cold was fitting. A little bit into the walk, this tall white pickup truck

was approaching on the opposite side of the road that I was on. I tried not to make eye contact for obvious reasons, but then I heard the truck stop and begin to make a U-turn, which made my heart start pounding. I just about froze up, but forced myself to pick up the pace at the very least. The truck pulled up to me and this guy rolled down his window. He asked what I was doing out this late. I told him I was going to meet a friend at the gas station and that she was expecting me. He sort of smiled and offered me a ride to which I said, no thank you, citing that I

shouldn't hitchhike. He replied, well good, I don't pick up hitchhikers. You don't look like a hitchhiker to me though. You do look like you need some help." He just kept driving next to me. As he told me, I shouldn't think he was a creep, and pulled out what looked like a police badge. He told me he had just gotten off duty, which is why he was out so late and in civilian

clothes. He said he wouldn't mind driving next to me, just to make sure I got to where I was heading safely. I was naive and a bit too trusting of his kindness and his credentials, so when he offered me a ride again I accepted and said that it would be nice. The gas station wasn't that far away anyway. Then he popped the door open for me and I hopped in. The radio was low and it was a little messy in his truck. The ashtray was full of cigarettes and there were a lot of newspapers on the passenger floor.

As I was moving my feet some of the papers shifted, exposing a pair of handcuffs, some coffee cups, empty water bottles, rags, a highlight yellow brightly colored bandana, and some other things. He apologized, saying that it was the truck he took hunting, but it was super warm, so I was happy and didn't mind the mess at all. He told me his name was John, and he asked why I was scantily dressed without a jacket. So I started to tell him about the party and the fight I had been in with my boyfriend. He was super charming and attentive. He even jokingly scoffed that he could arrest my boyfriend. I asked him

about himself, and he told me about his family. He said he was a young dad, and he had a wife, a daughter, a son, and a dog. I told him it was like he had the perfect little family, and he agreed as he laughed and said he most certainly did. Then it had sort of clicked for me to ask him if I could use his phone, but he said no and explained that he had to save his battery. We approached the gas station, and then he drove right past it.

I politely said, oh, I think that's the one, but he didn't answer me. I felt sick to my stomach. My heart started pounding. I started getting choked up, and my eyes started tearing up as I was looking out the windows and watching

the lights of the gas station behind us, getting further and further away. It was hard for me to even speak, but somehow I murmured, asking if he could please turn around, but he ignored me. Whenever I would look at him, his eyes were vacant and emotionless, totally dead and glazed. I looked back out the window to glance down at the road to see if we were going slowly enough for me to leap out of the car without seriously injuring myself. I remember always hearing, never go to the second location. But I thought about the possibility of jumping out and breaking an ankle.

I knew it would be a lot harder to get away with one foot as opposed to two. I debated with myself about how there was snow on the ground, but snow is hard to maneuver in, especially when you're not dressed to be out in it. I was getting increasingly scared, though, especially since there was nothing but trees and empty road and... us. I was crying pretty badly at this point and asked if I could please borrow his phone again. I don't know why I even asked. Then he told me to stop talking. He started talking under his breath, saying, "'Girls shouldn't be out so late. You shouldn't have been alone this late. Look what you're doing to me, dressed like a slut.'" And all kinds of other derogatory

things. He kept saying these terrible things. I wasn't even responding. I was just crying and trying to think past the fear I was feeling. I remembered the pair of handcuffs I saw under the newspapers beneath my feet. So, I discreetly scooped up the handcuffs with my feet. I managed to use my heels and toes to push them under the bottom of my seat, as far as they would go. I was thinking of different things I could do to try to help myself. Like, if we were close enough to some upcoming lights or structures, I could just grab the wheel and cause us to crash into them. Or maybe if I got lucky enough for a cop to pass us,

I could grab the wheel and swerve so he would appear to be a drunk or reckless driver and we'd get pulled over. Then I guiltily thought about how this man might have just been having a weird night and how, if I did anything, it would hurt him. But I also told myself that that sort of thinking is what got me into this mess in the first place. He pulled off the road where there were still woods on either side of us. On his side, the wooded trees were closer to the road. On my side, there was a small gap fully covered in thick, I don't know how many feet of snow. The gap was about 30 feet wide, and then there were a ton of trees beyond that. He turned off the car and coldly said that there was something wrong with the car, and he told me to get out with him. As he grabbed the keys and stepped out of the car, I held on to the center console and

cried. I pleaded for him not to make me get out with him because it was too cold. He turned around to face me, his door still open, and shouted at me to get out of the car. I dug my fingernails deeper into the console, thinking my cries and head shaking were going to cause him to come around to my side of the car and drag me out himself. I cried, please, John, I'm so cold and scared. I was thinking of everything I ever heard regarding situations like this.

Humanize yourself, use first names. Then he stared at me in this way I can't even describe to this day. He got back in the car and I slinked towards my window, scared he would drag me over the console. But he just turned off the headlights, darkening everything until our surroundings became a dark blue. He sat in the driver's seat staring at the steering wheel for what felt like years before lighting a cigarette. He kept looking out his window, looking back at me, and then looking back out his window again.

He heard me shuffle my feet on the newspapers, but while still staring out his window, he told me if I thought about running, he had a quick way to get me where he wanted me. Oddly enough, I was sort of thinking of running minutes before that, but reasoned that if he wanted me out of the car, then I would be better off staying inside. Otherwise, he could chase me or shoot me. He might have had hunting rifles in the back, but I didn't know for sure, and I didn't dare look.

I think by that point I hit some sort of bottom of my reserve, so instead of panic, there was numbness and exhaustion. There was still an occasional hot tear or two rolling down my cheek, but I mostly remember feeling numb. I talked to a psychiatrist about this sensation in particular, and he thinks it just came from my ex-boyfriends giving me PTSD. I was dead quiet, but I finally, just barely audibly, told him that my friend was still waiting for me back at the gas station. And I asked about his wife and children.

He flatly said he didn't have a wife or children and that his house was empty. I asked him what he was thinking about and he said, I'm thinking of what to do with you. He didn't say this angrily. He just said it flatly and coldly, which sort of scared me more. I started getting worked up again until I was back up to a cry. He told me not to cry and turned the car on offering me some heat.

I just cried and said I wanted to go home. Eventually he started driving and kept driving until we were approaching a gas station. I was gauging the right time to reach for the wheel, but before I could, he started slowing down. While pulling up, he told me not to tell anyone about what just happened or he would find me. Then he told me all he was doing was teaching me a lesson not to hitchhike with strangers.

He was almost coming to a complete stop when he told me to get out before he changed his mind. Before he could even get another look at me to assess any further, I was already out of the truck and sprinting towards the gas station. The panic was overwhelming me, but then I stopped so I could try to see his license plate, but only caught the blur of the last three numbers as he was driving off. So I ran inside and asked the clerk behind the counter to call the police. I waited until the officer got there and,

I'll be honest, I was a little scared it would be John. My fears melted away when the policeman, who wasn't John, got there. I gave him a description of John, his appearance, the vehicle make, model, and color, and the parts of the license plate number I had caught, and the fact that he said he was an off-duty cop. I basically told the policeman anything I could. I asked him if he could look at the gas station's

camera footage, and the officer disappeared in the back for a little bit, then came back out saying there was nothing on them. I asked if I would be able to look and the officer said no and asked me if I didn't trust him. Then the officer gave me a ride to my friend's. On the way there, he was lecturing me for hitchhiking, which mainly consisted of him repeatedly asking me if I knew who Ted Bundy was. Of course, I knew who Ted Bundy was. Of course I knew who Ted Bundy was, and of course I knew the dangers of hitchhiking, but I guess I was just naive to think

it could never happen to me. I never heard anything back about the report that was made. I tried to follow up, and each time I did, no one ever got back to me aside from this one time I was told my case number didn't exist. But that never stopped me from continuing to try to follow up. Throughout the months and years, I asked my friend whose home I slept over at that night, if she'd ever heard of any weirdness happening in the area since that incident, and she'd always said no. So eventually I sort of let it go. Sometimes I try to tell myself that maybe John actually was just trying to teach me a lesson or something.

I mean, I definitely never hitchhiked again, so if it was a lesson, it certainly worked. But honestly, I think I tell myself that to help me sleep better at night. It all felt really real. I'm really glad I didn't get out of the car in the woods that night. Thanks for listening and make sure to stick around after the music for your extended ad free version of this week's episode if you're a patron. If you'd like to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to sign up and support the show today to get access to hours of ad free bonus content with stories you won't hear anywhere else. This week you have heard I escaped an intruder by playing along by Loud and Proud, Bare Feet

by Settled Snow, Highway Encounter with the Serial Killer by Kid Charles Rock of the 3AM Scary Stories Podcast, Maybe My Ex by Alternative Status 64444 Man claimed that he was from the police by HMU Bro My Night in Boys Town by FabulousCucumber40 And finally I Barely Made It Out of the Woods by SweetTangerine 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.

As always, if you have a story to share, send it to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com. And finally, a very special thanks to all of the guests that appeared on this special live episode of Let's Not Meet, including Amanda and Cassidy of Drinking the Kool-Aid, Sora Narnia of Knifepoint Horror, Brandon Lanier, co-host of my other podcast Odd Trails, a fellow producer of the show Jennifer Hollywood, and finally Shelby Novak of Scare You to Sleep. Make sure you check out their links in the show notes if you want to check out their podcasts.

However, you can find those podcasts anywhere that you listen to your podcasts. We'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. Everyone, stay safe. This happened a few weeks ago.