Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 13x08: I Worked With a Murderer

Episode Date: August 19, 2024

Stories in this episode: The Back Door | Darcy Janeway (0:42) What Happened That Night? | fieldofmeadows (5:13) My mom was drugged | ItsBoL (8:39) I was a family's LNM. | gonzoexpresss (16:32) The Person Outside My Door | Sweet-Spot-2223 (23:59) Stalked in College | Immediate_Housing385 (29:09) I Worked With a Murderer | Emjewels223 (34:26) Followed By a Guy on Crutches | Doubtthecertain (37:58) Small Town Creeper | DopeAss-Dawndle (43:02) Horseback Hazard | mask_wearing_butch (47:09) Extended Patreon Content: He Was Dragged Out Naked and Screaming | Benny G. The Man on the Bike | Maya Rollerblading Guitar Guy | Kennedy "I'm Looking for the Smiths"  | Mallory from Tennessee Scariest Day of My Life | Juno Due to periodic changes in ad placement, time stamps are estimates and are not always accurate. Upcoming LNM Live Tour Dates: 9/19/24 - Salt Lake City, UT @ Metro Music Hall: GET YOUR TICKETS 10/09/24 - Seattle, WA @ The Triple Door: GET YOUR TICKETS 10/30/24 - Portland, OR @ Show Bar: GET YOUR TICKETS 11/09/24 - Houston, TX @ The Secret Group: GET YOUR TICKETS 11/10/24 - Dallas, TX @ Deep Ellum Art Co: GET YOUR TICKETS Follow: - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/crypticcounty - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com/ - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - TikTok - https://www.tiktok.com/@crypticcounty Check out the other Cryptic County podcasts like Odd Trails, Cryptic Encounters, 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].    Stop waiting and start saving. Get a free debt analysis right now at PDSDEBT.COM/MEET The Minds of Madness is available wherever you get your podcasts, or visit MindsOfMadnessPodcast.com for more information.

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most bang for your buck. That's R-A-K-U-T-E-N. This podcast contains adult language and content. Listener discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to letsnotmeetstoriesatgmail.com. Enjoy the show. Music This happened about 15 years ago, and to this day, I cannot live in a ground floor building. When I was 15, I was staying at my mom's house for the weekend. My parents are divorced, so it was just me and her. It was about 1230 AM and I was just hanging out in the living room watching TV while my

mom was asleep. The living room had two windows that faced the front yard and I often left the curtains open as the house was set back from the road. My mom's house wasn't in the best part of town, but I always felt relatively safe there. While I was in my pajamas watching TV, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye from the window that was closest to me. This window is only about four feet away from me. When I turned and looked out the window,

a man's face was staring right back at me, smiling the most hideous grin I had ever seen. I was frozen, just sitting there with my eyes locked on his. My panic quickly and suddenly set in, so I leapt up from the sofa and tried to run to my mother. I was moving hastily, so I slammed my leg right into a wooden coffee table and fell to the ground. Even though my leg was feeling like it was made of jelly after this,

I managed to scramble up to my feet and shout for my mom. My mom, half asleep, came running as she wondered what was wrong. I started stammering about how there was someone in the window watching me. I started stammering about how there was someone in the window watching me. Just as my mom was realizing what I was saying, we both heard somebody attempting to open the front door to the house. My mom and I just stood there, still, as we felt relieved knowing that the front door was double locked. But when the noise at the front door stopped,

my mother looked horribly grave as she whispered, the back door. She then turned, bolted through the house, and turned the deadbolt on the back door in the kitchen and backed away. She quickly ran to her room and pulled the baseball bat from beneath her bed, that I knew she kept there because she was a woman living alone. Frantically, she asked me to call the police, so I did. I whispered to the operator that someone was trying to get into my house. We then saw a shadow approach the back door quickly, trying desperately to open the door,

kicking and grunting. My mother shouted, I have a bat, and I'll fucking kill you if you get into this house. We called the police, they're on their way. The person on the other side of the door stopped and stood still for about 30 seconds before turning and running away. My mom and I stood in the middle of the kitchen for about 20 minutes. It took the police that long to get to us.

The whole time, my mother had the bat raised, ready to strike. When the police finally came in, they looked around the house. They found that the flowers outside the window were trampled, and there were several cigarette butts on the ground outside the window, where I saw the man. The police assumed, by the looks of it it he had been there for a while. They didn't find him, but they took a statement from me which included my description of the man, but we never heard anything more about it.

We never had another incident, but my mom moved out of that house a year later. I now live in a different country with my husband, who wonders why I have no desire to own a house and love living in a high rise apartment above the street level. I also pay for state of the art home security and I have a baseball bat in my closet just like my mom. I have no idea what would have happened if my mother had not realized that the back door was unlocked. I'm grateful that she was there that night, as she generally worked late.

I'll never know if the man thought that he could overpower two women alone or if he was just trying to scare us. Whatever that man had intended, I pray that he didn't find someone else who forgot to lock their back door. This happened about nine years ago and I still think about it on occasion and wonder what happened. During the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of high school, there was this boy that I liked.

Being teenagers, we would sneak out in the middle of the night to go to this park that was really close to both our houses. One night, at about two in the morning, we were sitting on a picnic table on one end of the park like we normally would. We had been doing this for months, so it seemed like it was just any other night. This park is surrounded three quarters of the way by canyons and has a playground, soccer fields and a baseball field. We were just hanging out when we saw two other people.

There was a man who appeared to be in his 30s. He was a bit heavyset and wore a red baseball cap with a white t-shirt. He was with this woman who was a bit younger than him. The boy I was with and I watched the two of them walk across the baseball field and into the canyon. We didn't think anything of it and assumed that they were just going to have relations in the canyon, as that's what some people did.

Maybe five minutes later we started to hear screaming. I knew I wasn't going crazy when I heard this because the sound of it startled the boy that I was with, too. It was nothing like I had ever heard before. The screaming was ear piercing, absolutely horrifying. Then after about twenty seconds, everything fell silent. We didn't hear a thing. A little while later, maybe a few minutes, the man came walking back out of the canyon, but he was no longer with the girl.

He started walking towards where we were sitting, so we just dipped. We grabbed all of our stuff and got the hell out of there and ran home. I don't know if he was coming for us. I'm not even sure if he saw us, but we were not about to stick around and find out. It was quite dark, so it wouldn't have surprised me if he didn't notice we were there. But I'm sure he saw us when we took off through the playground. For the next two to three months, I looked all over the internet to see if there were any stories that popped up.

I even went and looked around the canyon for anything to explain what might have happened. I never found anything, online or in the canyon, so I still have no idea what happened that night. This is probably one of the scariest and creepiest things that has ever happened to me. I was about 14 when it happened. Those days I was a selfish teenager who was primarily preoccupied with myself, as most of us are. So sadly, I didn't call the police.

I should have. I think back on it and beat myself up for not saying anything to anyone, but at the time I was more concerned about getting in trouble for sneaking out with a boy. If I were to be around anything like this happening today, I would not hesitate to call the police. This happened about eight years ago. I was 16 and had two friends living with me since they were attending a nearby college. They were from out of town and loved the beach, which worked out well for them since I was living on the coast. The beach is like a home away from home for my mom.

She used to walk on the beach and collect shells nearly every single day. One day my friends and I wanted to go to the beach. My mom went with us, but she wanted to pop into a bar that was close to where we had parked so that she could have a beer before she went. My friends and I stayed in the car, and about 30 minutes went by and my mom still had not come back to the car. So we went in to check on her. When we found her, she was acting so weird and saying things that didn't make sense. There was this other guy with her, this huge guy, easily 6'5", 250 pounds.

He had tattoos everywhere and was wearing a leather vest. I assumed this guy thought my mom was alone at the bar due to the look on his face when my friends and I went to check on her. I told my mom it was time to go, but she was adamant in saying that she didn't want to leave this guy. She kept saying she wasn't leaving unless he came with us. My friends and I got the staff at the bar to tell her that it was time to go and that she was too drunk to drive. I didn't have a license at the time so one of my friends agreed to drive. This is the part where things started to get weird. We were on the way home and my mom kept looking at her hands, asking us why they were moving.

She was moving her fingertips around, so we just told her she was drunk and they were moving because she was moving them herself. She also kept telling us that she only had two beers. We got home and my mom got out of the car and sat in the driveway. There was a child riding a tricycle across the street from us, and my mom called out, hey kid, you're not old enough to have a license. You shouldn't be driving. My friends and I thought that it was funny at the time, since we just thought she had overdone it on alcohol.

So we got her inside, put her in bed, and told her to go to sleep. Then we went back to my room to play some video games and hang out. About 30 minutes went by and we heard the sound of something breaking, followed by my mom screaming. This wasn't a normal scream, it was terrifying. We immediately ran into her room and saw that she had broken a glass of water that we put by her bed. When we walked into her room, she stopped screaming and stared blankly at the wall, mumbling something that didn't make any sense. She kept glancing

at us and while she was physically present, we could tell that her mind was not there. There was a blankness in her eyes and her pupils were huge. Since my friends and I were teenagers, we hadn't messed with drugs at all, so we were baffled. We still thought that she just overdrank, and we still weren't thinking much of any of this at all. We got her to lie back down, and we told her to try and get some sleep. Before we left the room, I looked back at her again and

she was just staring at the ceiling, moving her jaw around. Then my friends and I went back to my room and talked about what we should do. We were starting to get scared because we knew that something wasn't right. Another ten minutes went by and we heard the car start outside. We ran out there and my mom was sitting in the driver's seat. My friends stayed with her at the car trying to convince her to turn the engine off, unlock the door, and give them the key. Meanwhile, I ran over to a neighbor and asked them for help, since I knew there was something

wrong. She ended up reversing out of the driveway and got about halfway down the street before she slammed on her brakes. She was then just sitting there, and we were thinking about breaking a window so that we could jump in and turn the car off. But she finally unlocked the door, stepped out of the car, and walked back home. We got the car back to the driveway and before we went back into the house, I put the keys in my pocket.

We then walked inside. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, with that blank stare. But she was also twitching. We went back into my room and talked about how crazy this situation was. Things quieted down for about an hour, so we started thinking that she was finally asleep. We were hoping that everything was going to be calm after that, but then we heard glass breaking again.

We went to the kitchen and saw that she had quietly opened the dishwasher, taken frozen food out of the freezer, and grabbed a ream of plain white paper. She was throwing plates at the wall while loading the frozen food and paper into the dishwasher. When we asked her what she was doing, she just looked over at us with a blank stare and continued without giving us an answer. We got her back to her room again, and I stayed with her and monitored her until I was certain that she had fallen back to sleep.

I stayed in her room for a couple of hours before going to my room to sleep myself. The next morning, she was freaking out. She didn't even know how she got home from the bar. She didn't remember anything. She also didn't remember giving the guy from the bar her number, but he had been calling her from some random numbers all morning. We went to CVS and got an at-home drug test and verified that she was drugged. According to the results, she had roofies and PCP in her system. When we called the bar to ask if we could review the security footage and try to find

out who the guy was, they told us that their security cameras were broken. To the guy who drugged my mom, let's never meet. Getting into credit card debt is so easy. Getting out? Well, the system is set up so that we don't. If you're struggling with credit cards, personal loans, collections, or medical bills, you need to check out PDS Debt. PDS provides a service to match you with debt solutions tailored to your financial situation.

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pdsdebt.com slash meet. Now back to the show. Every spring for about eight years a group of friends and I would go on a vacation at this old fort campground. It's an old fort base located on a small island that's about six miles long. There's a large family campground on the island as well as some larger group camping spots that are about one mile from the family sites. My friends and I stayed at one of the larger group camping spots so that we wouldn't bother any of the families who were trying to have a relaxing, wholesome vacation. There are some cool old parts of the fort remaining on the island.

They're scattered all over the island, and they're accessible, so they're fun to check out. The most popular part of the fort is an old watchtower that gets busy during the summer, but my friends and I would wait and go there when it was pretty quiet. Since we had been vacationing there for a while, we were very comfortable and familiar with the island. We had gotten to know it well as we hiked all over the place during the day and sometimes at night.

On this particular evening, we had been drinking and a few of my friends in the group went and took some acid. Now, anyone who has taken acid knows that it's not like what you see in the movies. It's actually a lot calmer than that. It can make you feel incredibly peaceful and safe, and maybe even a bit braver too. My friends and I have tripped and night hiked on this island before. This wasn't uncommon for us to do. We liked to do it at least once while we were there.

It's always a blast. There are a bunch of trails and it's a very safe place. I decided to trip along with my friends, so I popped my hit on my tongue as I watched the sun sink behind the dunes. About an hour later, we all gathered around the campfire and had a few beers. Then one of my friends suggested a night hike over to the tower. It was a mile from our campsite and there were a few different paths that we could choose from to get there.

Only four of us wanted to make the hike, me and my three guy friends. Since it was spring, it was still chilly, especially at night, so I packed a blanket in my backpack and layered on an old sweater with my thick black wool cloak just in case. Then the four of us started down the trail. We didn't make it far before I realized I had forgotten my smokes. So I told my friends to keep going and I would catch up. Now being in my stony, trippy, acid state, I got caught up joking around with the friends who stayed back

at camp, and I didn't notice a bunch of time had passed until they mentioned it. I laughed as I headed back to the trailhead. This is where the acid really started coming into play. The guys who had continued hiking had the flashlight, so my hike through the woods was dimly lit by the moon, which was more beautiful than scary with acid brain. As I continued down one of the trails, I heard some chatting and assumed it was my friend. I was in no real rush to catch up with them since I was enjoying the solitude of the hike, and the darkness of the night felt so magical.

I was just humming and singing to myself, enjoying the hike and taking it all in. When the trail started to straighten out, I saw a few figures walking a good way ahead of me. I also saw the shape of the watchtower behind the trees. When that trail ended, it opened up onto a small maintenance road with a parking lot that was for the gazebo facing the bay. The tower sat on the opposite end facing the ocean. These figures, who I still assumed were my friends, continued moving towards the tower.

I decided to sit back for a moment and roll a joint so that I could share it with my buddies at the top of the tower. I decided to sit back for a moment and roll a joint so that I could share it with my buddies at the top of the tower. As I pulled everything I needed out of my backpack, a lighter and a water bottle fell out and hit the ground. I lowered myself to my hands and knees to feel around for them in the darkness. As I was on my hands and knees feeling the ground, a brief but bright light shined on me which made me look up. My vision was obstructed by the hood of my cloak and the darkness so all I could see

were the figures in front of me, starting to run towards the tower. So I gathered all my stuff quickly, stood up, and swiftly followed them to the tower, knowing that I could just roll a J when I got to the top. I saw their light cut off as they entered the darkness of the tower, which made me assume they were going to try and scare me. I could hear voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. I thought to myself that I must be tripping pretty hard because it didn't even sound like my buddies were speaking English. My eyes adjusted very well to the darkness and, being familiar with the tower,

I walked up the three tall flights of stone stairs to get to the entrance. While tripping, I was in a great mood, humming some Zappa tune and feeling happy to exist. I heard the guys moving ahead of me towards the top so I hurried along to try and catch up. As I heard them whispering and shuffling around, I started calling out in a sing-songy tone, I know it's you. I assumed this would make them realize the jig was up, and they wouldn't be able to scare me.

I also continued to repeat myself a few times as I kept moving towards the top, humming all the while. Once I reached the top, I saw three figures huddled together not saying a word. I laughed at them and sat down in the center of the room to roll a J, still humming. They didn't move. I finally told them they weren't fooling anyone and that I could see them. But then all of a sudden, they spoke in these very shaky voices. We don't know you, they nervously said as they took off down the stairs.

They were running and screaming. I was very puzzled. I stood up and shouted, Where are you going? I was so confused, but then it hit me. Those were not my friends. I just scared the absolute hell out of some random family. I watched from the top of the tower as this family ran out of the tower, across the parking lot, and back to the trail.

They never slowed down or stopped screaming. It must have been a nightmare for them. My friends showed up about five minutes later. They had taken a wrong turn off the trail and got mixed up. I explained to them what happened and we all laughed and cringed about it. So to the family who was on the top of the watchtower that night, please, let's meet and let me apologize for my lack of total awareness. My dad and I live together in our own multi-family home in Germany. My dad has a serious lung condition.

His lungs produce and trap an excessive amount of mucus. The amount of mucus that gets trapped is so significant that it prevents his lungs from functioning correctly. It's a pretty normal instance for him to be picked up by an ambulance every two to three weeks since his breathing issues are so severe. This occurred about three years ago, right around when it was about that time for him to go to the hospital for his monthly visit. He couldn't breathe, so I called an ambulance which came to pick him up, and he was taken to the closest hospital. This was a normal call for

me to make since it happened at least ten times in the last six months at that point. I went to bed after he was picked up, and I went to work the next morning. I then got a text from him while I was at work. He let me know that he needed to stay for at least two more days, which meant that he would be returning home that Friday. That evening after I got home from work, I played a match on a game called Rogue Company. Then, someone suddenly rang the doorbell. That was unusual, since neither my dad nor I have ever had any visitors come over unannounced.

I walked to the door, and I was about to press the buzzer to open the main door when I heard more than one voice right outside my front door. So that means whoever this was already got past the main door somehow, which was very strange. I asked in German, hello, who is this? After some brief silence, a person who sounded like my father replied, it's me. I forgot my keys, open the door.

At first I didn't hesitate, but then I realized the person had called me by name, Misha. Now, my dad never calls me Misha. He only calls me Mishi. Plus, there was a really strange tone in the voice. I didn't trust the situation, so I called my father on his phone. If the person at my front door was indeed my father, I should be able to hear the phone ring, right?

Well, it didn't. My father answered the phone as I suspected he would. He was still at the hospital. Meanwhile, the two people on the other side of the door heard my phone call and started kicking my door. Let me in, Misha, it's your dad, let me in. Thank God that door is reinforced. After I said that I had a huge knife in my hand and I was calling the police, they left.

I heard their footsteps running down the staircase. I rushed to a window facing the street to see if I could find a car or a license plate or something, but I didn't see anything. I just heard footsteps running off in the distance. I don't know who these people were, but thankfully they never came back. I have no idea how or why they knew my name, and that my father wasn't home. Have you ever stopped to wonder just how close you've come to danger without even realizing it? Every single day we encounter countless people on the street, in the grocery store, at the

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The Minds of Madness is available wherever you get your podcasts, or visit mindsofmadnesspodcast.com for more information. It all started one day after class in broad daylight. I was at the grocery store picking up some snacks when I felt as if somebody was staring at me. I looked up and I was met with the eyes of an old man. I didn't think anything of it and just finished my shopping and then walked home. While walking home, I had this strong sensation of somebody staring at my back. So I glanced behind me and lo and behold, the old man was there.

He and I were the only ones along the street, so I started panicking. I started walking faster and when I looked back, he was walking faster as well. Panic turned into fear, so I spun around and screamed, stop following me. He yelled back, I just want to get to know you. I ran with my heels on the whole way home. When I got to my house, I rushed inside and slammed the door behind me. He rang the doorbell and I was so afraid, so I told my mom that an old guy had followed me home.

My mom, however, instead of scolding him, laughed and made a joke about it being nice to have an admirer. She even opened the door and talked to him, which was horrifying beyond belief. What he said next rendered me speechless. He mentioned my name, my school, and what degree I was studying for. He also listed all of my classes and what time they were. I had no idea how he knew any of this. He said he just wanted to get to know me, but it sounded like he already knew me.

My mom shut the door and she found it all funny. But I began to cry. It didn't stop there. He showed up at my school and always tried to talk to me, even if I was doing my best to get away from him. Wherever I was, he was also there. He followed me home on the bus. I screamed and told him to back away, but he kept talking to me.

I was pissed off and afraid, but everyone on the bus just looked at us. No one was helping me or stopping the old man. At the time, I was interning at a local radio station that was owned by some TV network. Before the bus reached my stop for work, I went off on him and ran like crazy when my stop came up. He ran off of the bus right behind me, but I got to my work building quicker than he did and told the guards at the gate about him.

From inside the building, I watched as they stopped him and told him he wasn't allowed inside. He was raising his voice and pointing at me as I was standing in the window. I stayed with my fellow interns until about 6 AM the following day. We left together and I didn't see him. Then he somehow managed to get my number and the stalking continued. I was scared shitless so I get my number, and the stalking continued. I was scared shitless, so I changed my number. At school, I changed my entire class schedule and started walking to class with others more.

My family and I moved to a new house and I got a family car that I started to drive to school since I was too afraid to use any public transportation. I also stopped going to the grocery store where I first saw him. Years passed and I didn't see him until one day after I graduated and started working full time. I was seeing my boyfriend, who is now my husband. He had driven me to the train station so that I could go to work. We were both inside his car which had tinted windows.

From the outside all passerbys could see was their reflection as the tent was almost like a mirror. I was in the passenger seat and there was a bus ahead of us. I suddenly had a gut feeling that someone was staring. I looked at the faces of the passengers on the bus until I noticed an old man looking out the window. As I kept looking, I was horrified to realize it was him again. He looked older, but his stare was exactly the same.

I thought that he couldn't see me, but I was wrong. He was now staring right at me through the window tent. I have no idea how he saw me. I told my boyfriend and he got mad and just asked me where he was so I pointed the man out. The old man wasn't deterred, he just kept staring. He was so surprised to see me again and got up to get off the bus, but the bus kept going on its route. I was terrified. My heart leapt into my throat, and I had a hard time breathing.

The fear that I had felt the first time I was running away from him came flooding back. Thankfully, that was the last I saw of him. When I was about 21, I served tables at a pizza chain restaurant at a new shopping center near where I lived. It was a part-time job for me, and I worked on the evenings and weekends. I was part of the staff who opened this brand new place, and it was very popular at the time. There were several employees and a few trainers who came from other locations nearby. Some ended up staying to work at the brand new location.

One of these employees was a cook named John. He was only a couple of years older than me. He was a kitchen manager at my restaurant. When I would forget to ring something in or whenever I would make a mistake, if he was working, I'd go back to the kitchen and tell him. He would often help me by giving me extra sauce, condiments, or whatever I needed. It wasn't a big deal to him since he was usually doing inventory, food temperature checks, and paperwork.

He was really nice to me. He never raised his voice or got mad. He was soft spoken, a quiet guy. I was engaged, so there wasn't any flirting or anything. He didn't seem interested in me like that. He just did his job, and then we'd have brief, friendly chats when we worked the same shift. I quit about four to five months after the restaurant opened, and I didn't stay in contact with most of the staff that I worked with during my time there, including him.

About a month or two after I quit, I was reading a news article and I noticed the name in the article was the same as the guy that I had worked with, John. The article went on to say that he had kept his stepson locked in a closet and starved him to death. I looked up more information and my old co-worker's picture came up. I couldn't believe it was him. I was dumbfounded. It turns out he had gotten custody of his ex's child,

who had no blood relationship to him. There was another younger boy in the home with him, who was John's biological child. I believe that boy was his stepson's half brother. He also had a girlfriend who was living with him when this all happened. John's stepson was 30 pounds total when they found him, and he was seven years old. This poor child was forced to use a litter box during the last few weeks of his life as he was kept in a small linen closet. John was sentenced to life in prison, and I still think of this poor kid who never even

had a chance. I also think about John and how he was so unassuming and friendly, yet quiet and shy. After working with him, I knew he was capable of a lot of things, but I never thought that he would be capable of doing something this vile. What on earth made him decide that his stepson deserved that? And how did he convince his live-in girlfriend to condone this decision? It still haunts me to this day. The moral is, I guess you can really never judge a book by its cover. This happened when I was walking home from the train station after I spent the weekend

at my aunt's house. It was about 11pm and very dark outside. When I was almost home I noticed that there was a guy on crutches in front of me. He was walking in the same direction, stopping every couple of meters. I noticed that when he stopped, he would turn around and look at me before continuing to walk. Even though he was ahead of me, I quickly cut up to him since he was on crutches. As I passed him, he stopped, looked at me, and grinned in this very creepy way.

I thought that that was strange strange but kept moving on. Since I lived in an apartment over a burger restaurant, I briefly considered asking one of the employees to walk me to the front door since, to get to the entrance of the apartment units, you had to walk around the building into a dark court. I didn't end up asking because I figured what could possibly happen. The guy was on crutches. I didn't want to ask for an escort and come across as childish. I was about halfway through my walk through the court, behind the building, when I hesitated

for a moment since I wanted to pull out my keys before continuing. I couldn't find them in my handbag, which made me realize I had thrown them somewhere in my travel bag. So as I stood in the middle of the court, I had to search through my whole travel bag to find the damn keys. I was so focused on digging through my bag to locate the keys, that I completely forgot about the creepy guy on the crutches that I had passed just a few minutes ago.

When I finally pulled them out of my bag, I looked up, and the guy on crutches was standing right in front of me, grinning. I always thought that if I was ever in a situation like that, I'd immediately start screaming, but instead, I couldn't manage to make a sound at all. With the keys in my hand, I bolted to the front door, opened it, and jumped inside. The guy followed as fast as he could, but luckily due to his injury, he wasn't as fast as me. However, unfortunately for me,

the main door was one of those doors that slowly fell shut before locking automatically. I couldn't push the door to get it to shut quicker since it's pressurized which prevents people from being able to slam it. So there I was, feverishly trying to shove the door into the lock while the creepy guy was approaching the entrance to try and follow me inside. Believe it or not, the door clicked into lock right at the last second before he reached the doorstep. Through the glass door, we just stared at each other,

both breathing heavily from the race. He looked quite disappointed. I then quickly ran upstairs, got into my apartment, and locked myself in there. Later that night, I looked outside my window and I saw that same man walking up and down the road in front of the building. He stayed there for three to four hours after the incident. I couldn't tell you what it was that made me decide not to call the cops in that moment. I guess I figured that nothing much happened after all. I just thought,

what could they do about it? After that, I didn't feel safe in my home anymore, since I knew that the guy knew where I lived. For the next two weeks, I only left the apartment when being picked up or dropped off. I also made sure to be home before it got dark. I kept thinking about this after it happened, so eventually I decided to go to the police and tell them about it. After I described the incident, I asked if it was possible for them to keep an eye on the neighborhood for a bit. When I talked to an officer, he took notes but told me exactly what I feared.

The officer said, We can't do anything about it. You should have talked to us sooner, but we'll make a note of it." A couple of days had passed, and suddenly I got a call back from another police officer who had a lot of questions about what happened. He then told me that they had been looking for the guy on the crutches for months since he had assaulted and harassed several girls around town. He was known for following them into their apartments

and even slept in front of their doors. He had been in police custody before and after he was released, he violated his probation. The police officer told me to immediately call if the guy showed up again. Luckily, he never did. It was only then that I understood the seriousness of the situation and realized that I most likely narrowly escaped an attack of some sort.

This was five years ago, but I still think about it from time to time and it still gives me the creeps. So hey creepy guy on crutches, let's never meet again. I'm a female and this happened many years ago when I was 15 years old. I lived in a small midwestern town that had very little crime so I always felt safe, even at night. I lived just a few blocks from downtown and would often walk or ride my bike there to pick up soda, some candy, or on this particular evening, a pack of cigarettes.

I know, I was way too young to be smoking, but it is what it is. So I got my cigarettes and started walking back home. By this time it was starting to get dark out, but that didn't bother me. That is, until I passed a cross street and a guy stepped out from the shadows and started following me. Even then I wasn't scared, but I was well aware that he was walking behind me and getting closer. I decided to see if this was intentional, so I sped up a little bit. And so did he.

This guy pretty much caught up to me, and when he was only three to four steps behind me, he asked me for a cigarette. Being a kid who was raised to be polite, I stopped and gave him one. He then asked for a light, and I gave him that too. Then I rapidly started to walk away because this guy was starting to give me the creeps. He had long, greasy hair, and the way that he looked at me made me feel uncomfortable. It's like he was looking at his dinner plate and deciding what to eat first.

So, I was skedaddling up the street, which is now on an incline because of a big hill. I was walking and I heard the guy's footsteps starting to run towards me from behind. I was already slightly out of breath from speedwalking up this hill, so I knew I'd never be able to outrun this guy, but I just kept walking in hopes that the guy would jog right past me, but no such luck. The next thing I knew the guy grabbed me from behind. In one movement, he wrapped one of his arms around my waist, pinning both of my arms to my sides, while his other arm was around my neck. At this point, I wasn't even scared. I was mad.

I realized that we were on a residential street, so I told the guy I was going to start screaming my head off as I began stomping his feet as hard as I could. He hesitated for a moment, but then let go of me and jogged further up the hill, disappearing behind a bush at the top of the hill. I crossed the street to walk on the opposite side, across from the bushes where he dove behind. I kept my eyes locked on those bushes, all the way down the block. Once I was at the end of the block, I was only one more block from home, so I broke

into a sprint and dashed the rest of the way home. Of course, I never told my parents about what happened because I was more afraid of getting in trouble for smoking, and I figured they wouldn't even believe me. Several weeks later, this guy grabbed another girl and proceeded to beat and assault her. I didn't find out about this until years later when I saw his picture in the paper along with an article about him being on trial. I think I must have been his first attempt and he got scared when I fought back. I'm so thankful that my response was to fight.

I'm eternally grateful that was the response that kicked in for me that night, especially since I have frozen in the past. I was very lucky. I had been through a lot of trauma in my childhood and had used coping mechanisms to protect my psyche from the trauma. I buried this event the same way I buried everything else. I spent years in therapy, working through my guilt over never telling anyone what happened to me that night.

But I still try to look back on that situation with more empathy than judgment. Ever since I was a kid, I remember my grandma denouncing horror of any kind. Ghoulish Halloween masks, haunted masks, scary movies, everything. I had attributed this aversion to her background and faith, as she is Hispanic and a devout Catholic. She believes anything horror-related is wrong and evil in general. So imagine my shock when my grandparents shared a bombshell with me. Back in 1974, my grandpa convinced my grandma to see the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. This would be her first and last time seeing a scary movie.

The weekend after the movie, my grandma and grandpa, and my mother, who was then a toddler, decided that they would go horseback riding for the first time with my aunts and uncles. Everyone was living in Wisconsin and my family made the journey to a farm about two hours away from where they lived. For the most part, everyone was in high spirits for this trip. Who can say no to a family adventure on a crisp autumn Wisconsin day? When my family arrived at the farm, it was three in the afternoon.

Although everyone was excited about horseback riding, my grandma was worried. She doesn't particularly care for horses, so she chose to stay behind with my mother while the others went out. According to my grandma, she watched everyone get saddled up before slowly riding off into the tangles of trees. The guide leading my family called out that the ride would last less than two hours mentioning the different trails and informing them about the need to take breaks and other things of that nature.

That being said, my grandma figured that everyone would be back at about five. informing them about the need to take breaks and other things of that nature. That being said, my grandma figured that everyone would be back at about five. She waited with my mother in the car, where they played games and read storybooks. Two hours quickly passed by, and five o'clock came and went, but there was no sign of my family. By this time, my mother had fallen asleep, which left my grandma with no way of distracting herself from her worries.

When six o'clock rolled around, my grandma called out to a farm hand from her car window since there was no way she was leaving the safety of her vehicle. She demanded to know why her family hadn't returned yet since it was long past five. By now darkness had begun bleeding into the Wisconsin sky. The farm hand assured her that everything was okay and

mentioned that extra paths are often taken throughout the ride. He told her that her family would return soon. Keep in mind, this was well before cell phones were a thing, so she couldn't call anyone. Also, a week before, she had seen her first scary movie and it scared the shit out of her. So, my poor grandma started feeling like she was living out a scene from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. She tried to contain her worry as she began to recite a hushed fearful prayer.

Just then, there was a flash of lightning that was soon followed by ear splitting thunder. The crash of the thunder woke my mother up and she started to cry. My grandma then had a stressed howling two year old to deal with, while she continued to ponder the frightening question of where her family went. Then it reached seven. The storm continued rolling in, growing more ferocious by the second.

My grandma's bladder felt like it was going to explode. But between the roar of the storm and the images of crazed country maniacs plaguing her mind, she refused to leave the vehicle. She then planned that if her family had not returned by 730, she was going to leave and find the nearest gas station to phone for help. So 730 came, and her family still hadn't come out of the woods. As she was scrambling around the car for the keys, she realized my grandpa never gave them to her.

Then the pound of a fist against her window shook her from her whirlwind of panic. But the panic was soon amplified by a million when she noticed a brawny man standing outside of the car, peering in at her. He was wearing a jacket with a hood that covered his head. My grandma said, at that moment, it felt like someone had pushed a button that sent the world into slow motion.

Everything was crawling at a snail's pace. Why don't you and the little one come inside? The man yelled. His words were authoritative and carried no hint of warmth. He wasn't speaking from a place of concern. He was ordering my grandma to get out of the car and into the farmhouse. All my grandma could do was shout, where is my family? The man gruffly responded, we're looking for him.

My grandma ordered him to call the police, and what the man said in response literally made my grandma piss her pants. We don't need the police, he said flatly. As he turned to go back into his house, he continued, you and the baby can come inside whenever you're ready. My grandma started to sob, wholly convinced that her family had been murdered and that she and her baby would be next. In the chaos of this moment, she heard somebody calling her name.

But because of the pitch black darkness and her profound fear, she assumed she must have been hearing things. She then heard her name again, even louder this time. Dora, help me. It was my grandpa. When she realized this, she put my mom in the back seat, grabbed a wooden baseball bat from under the driver's seat and then exited the car.

Keep calling my name, I can't see you, my grandma cried out. After what felt like an eternity, she followed my grandpa's voice until she found his location. When she got to him, she realized my grandpa needed help because he was guiding my aunt through the tall rain soaked grass. She had hurt her ankle. Both my grandpa and my aunt were drenched from all of the mud and the rain. They were covered in scratches as well. The rest of the family was nowhere in sight. Before my grandma even had a chance to assume

the worst, she heard my uncle calling out for my grandpa. One by one, everyone shuffled out of the woods through the tall grass. And they were all soaked in mud and injured in some capacity. They all had cuts and gashes. Everyone was wobbly or limping, just overall unsteady. They were all pretty shaken up as well. When they finally made it back to their vehicles, the sounds of running engines and the flood of headlights got the attention of the man inside the farmhouse. The door to the farmhouse swung open and the brawny man emerged to stand on the porch.

With an amused chuckle, he drawled, oh, y'all made it out of there. My grandpa shouted back, that dumb asshole left us out there and never came back. All the man said in response was, I'll have to talk to him about that. Why don't y'all come inside? His freakishly flippant and joking attitude sunk into his words. He knew damn well they weren't going into his house. My grandma begged my grandpa to leave and get them out of there.

So with that, my family tore out of there as fast as they possibly could. Once my family made it home and safe, my grandpa explained what happened. During the ride, the guide led them deep into the woods until they reached a creek where the horses stopped to drink. When the horses rested, the guide told my family that he had to go do something and he would be back in 20 minutes. My family thought that this was strange and before the guy took off, my grandpa anxiously joked, you are coming back though, right? The guide simply gave a low chuckle in response and took off on his horse. 20 minutes came and went, and the guide didn't return.

My family continued to wait as they had no idea where they were or where they should go. As they saw the sky blackening above them, they knew that they would have to make it out of there on their own. As my family rode off, they tried to retrace their path back to the farm, but they wound up wandering aimlessly. Eventually rain started to fall. The pulsing lightning and the crash of thunder scared the horses, so everyone, except for

my grandpa, was thrown off their horses. When my grandpa climbed off his horse to help the others, the horse that he was on got scared as well and galloped away. From there it was a nightmare trying to navigate the woods through the thick void of darkness while injured. It took them a while to get out of there, but they eventually did. The only advice I can give you is this. If you're going horseback riding, you better make sure it doesn't become a horseback ride from hell. Stick around after the music if you're a patron for your extended version of this week's episode 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. You'll get all of our episodes ad free at a higher bit rate. Plus you'll get access to hours and hours of bonus content with stories you won't hear anywhere else. Again, that's patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast. This week you have heard the back door by Darcy Jane way. What happened to that night by field of meadows. My mom was drugged by its bowl. I was a family's let's not meet by Gonzo Express. The person outside my door by sweetspot2223.

Stalked in college by immediate housing385. I worked with a murderer by mjools223. Followed by a guy on crutches by doubtmacertain. Small town creeper by dopeassdwandle. And finally, horseback hazard by maskwearingbutch. by Doubt the Certain, Small Town Creeper by Dope Ass Dwandle, and finally Horseback Hazard by Mask-Wearing Butch. 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, send it to letsnotmeetstories at gmail.com to hear it on the show. Let's Not Meet a True Horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any of the message boards online. Don't forget to get tickets to any of the upcoming shows. We still have some available for Utah, Seattle, Portland, Houston, and Dallas. You can get tickets at letsnotmeetpodcast.com slash tour or just follow one of the links in the show notes. Finally, make sure to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, my true paranormal podcast, Cryptic Encounters, and the old time radio cast,

all at crypticcountypodcasts.com or wherever you get your podcasts. We'll see you all next week. Everybody stay safe. I'm a 32 year old transgender man.