Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 3x24: My Creepy Friend Ben - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: April 20, 2020Stories in this episode: Someone broke into my house and tried to find me - StaringVoid. My neighbor in the tree - ovnijoyce. He lost his phone inside his car - Dont_ComeAround. My creepy friend... Ben - MeltEarthToSea. Visit betterhelp.com/meet to get 10% off your first month! Join the over 800,000 people in taking charge of their mental health with the help of an experienced professional today. Check out new friends of the show Yeardley Smith, the voice of Lisa Simpson, and Dan and Dave, who are identical twin detectives from Small Town, USA in the thrilling new season of Small Town Dicks, available now on Apple, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. Follow Let's Not Meet: - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Merch - https://www.teepublic.com/user/letsnotmeet - Twitch - https://www.twitch.tv/letsnotmeetstreams Â
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My name is Andrew Tate and this is season three, episode 24 of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast.
A few years ago I was renting a house in Northern California. The neighborhood was just outside
of the suburbs. It seemed like the perfect balance of having space and having nice neighbors close enough
not to feel isolated.
The area had no street lights.
It was very dark at night, especially if there were clouds blocking the moonlight.
It didn't bother me though.
It made my little house feel a little more quaint on dark nights.
I got home from work one day, mid-winter. It was a cloudy night, so, pulling up to my
house, I saw only what my headlights and front porch light illuminated. When I got out of
my car, I caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. That was odd as I had never smelled that before
around that house. I didn't see anyone nearby so I ignored it and went inside. I had
just got off a shift with a few hours of overtime so I was pretty tired. Even though it wasn't
seven yet, I decided to take a shower and call it a night.
I woke up sometime later, sure that I had heard a noise in my house.
I wasn't worried right away because my friend would sometimes stop by to use my shower after
work on his way to his midnight classes.
I even gave him a spare key, so he could stop by even if I wasn't home.
He would always text me to let me know beforehand though, and I hadn't heard my phone go off.
I reached over to my bedside table and picked up my cell phone to see if my friend had sent
me a text.
The bright light from the phone screen and number pad blinded me.
These were the days before phones had a light sensor that would dim the screen in the dark,
and this particular phone was so bright that I could use it as a flashlight.
Through squinted eyes, I could make out that it was 9-something, but I couldn't tell
if I had unread texts or not.
I set my phone aside and called out my friend's name.
There were a couple of seconds of silence before I heard loud, footfalls, as someone started
running through the bottom floor of my house.
I leapt out of bed and ran to the closet. They were already up the stairs by the time
I had opened the door, and stepped inside. That house had three rooms upstairs, two bedrooms
on either side of the hallway, the one that I was in, and a spare, and a bathroom at the
end. The bedroom doors were both closed, but the bathroom door was cracked open.
I heard whoever was in my house, thundered down the hallway, passed my door, and into the
bathroom.
Thank God he did.
That gave me just enough time to open the attic access in the ceiling of my closet and
hoist myself up. I had just started to lift myself up when the person ran back out of the bathroom.
My feet were barely inside of the attic when my bedroom door busted open.
I heard footsteps run into my room and stop.
When they didn't see me in that room, they ran back into the hallway and into the other
room which had boxes,
stacked in one corner, some weights, and a table where I painted miniature models.
I guess they decided that if someone were hiding, it would be in the bedroom because they
charged back into my room and turned on the light.
A moment later, the closet door was ripped open.
I was crouched in my attic just a foot or so away from the access so I could try and
stop them if they started to climb up.
From my vantage point, all I could see was from about knee down.
They were wearing dirty blue jeans with frayed cuffs and worn work boots.
After a few seconds of looking in the closet, they stepped away, and I heard a loud crash come from
the room, followed by a scream of frustration and anger. That scream was the most unnerving part
of the incident for me.
It reminded me far too much of my stepfather who would scream in a similar way when he lost
his temper.
He would eventually be put in a mental hospital for several mental disorders that resulted
in erratic and violent tendencies.
The man in my house ran back downstairs.
I heard crashes and cladders as things were thrown around and furniture was knocked
over.
I stayed crouched in the attic.
I had left my cell phone when I ran for the closet.
And I wasn't certain I could climb down without him hearing.
After some time the noise has stopped.
I started counting slowly.
When I reached 1000, I decided it was safe enough to climb down and call the police.
The first thing I noticed when I exited the closet was that the intruder had flipped my
bed over.
I assumed an attempt to find me.
That was the loud noise that I heard after he stepped away from the closet.
I couldn't find myself home, so I went to the landline by my bed and called the police
there. I waited in my room until I heard them call from downstairs.
The first floor was a mess, but I had expected that. Chairs had been knocked over, the sofa had been flipped,
all the books, pictures, and knick-knacks I had on my shelves were strewn across the floor.
The cupboards in the kitchen had been opened, and all the boxed and canned foods had been thrown out
onto the ground. As far as I could tell, though, the only thing missing was a single knife
I could tell though, the only thing missing was a single knife out of the wooden block in my kitchen.
The police checked the house from top to bottom.
They found that the side door had been forced open by something like a crowbar.
They also found a few cigarette butts along my fence line, along with some foil and an
empty pin tube which the police said people often used
to smoke meth, so they think he had been watching my house for a while.
I realized that he must have been out there smoking a cigarette when I got home.
They collected up the evidence and told me that I should stay with my family or friends
for the night, and to get that door fixed as soon as possible. I opted to just not sleep. I moved to shelf over to block
the broken door and spent the next couple of hours cleaning things up. I would often
go to the window with a flashlight and shine it along the fence line, where the police
found the cigarette butts in foil, but I didn't
see anything.
The next day, I called to have the door fixed, and the motion lights installed at the back
and sides of the house.
I ran a phone cable up into the attic and added a landline.
I never wanted to be stuck up there without a phone again.
However, nothing else ever happened in that house.
I lived there for another three years without incident.
One more precaution I took was practicing
and getting out of bed, going to my closet,
and climbing into the attic is quickly and quietly as possible.
I even kept at it when I moved out, except now I go to a crawl space at the back of the
closet instead of the attic.
I try not to think about what would have happened if I had been a bit slower getting into the attic
or if he hadn't gone into the bathroom at the end of the hall first.
This all started about a year ago. I'm a 23-year-old female. I live on the second floor of an
apartment complex where I have lived my entire life.
The building is mostly comprised of families with young children and married couples.
A lot of the families have lived here as long as my family has, so everyone knows each other
pretty well.
There is only one apartment unit that isn't occupied by a family but rather a pair of brothers
who keep to themselves. One
day, one of their sons, who was around my age, appeared out of the blue. He was strange
right off the bat. He would always wear a sweatshirt with the hood up, and would run through
the apartment complex to get to his apartment. I was not sure what his face looked like because he always had the hood over
the face. He lived on the first floor, on the backside of the complex. He would often
get to his place by jumping through the window. He basically did everything in his power
to avoid any interaction. I didn't mind him because I never saw him due to my busy schedule. However,
one day he started sitting on top of the staircase, the one that leads to my apartment. This
was strange because his apartment unit was off on the other side of the complex and on
the first floor. I brushed it off at first, but it started happening every single day.
When I would come home from school, he was there.
When my boyfriend at the time would drop me off at night, typically around 10, 30, or 11,
he was there.
Sometimes when I would leave and come back hours later, he would still be
in the same exact spot as if he didn't move through the five plus hours I was gone.
At this point, I told my parents and my boyfriend about it, and they became very vigilant.
My boyfriend would park his car and walk me to my door every night that he dropped me off.
Once he saw my boyfriend, he stopped sitting on the staircase, and I thought that it was
over.
But it wasn't.
He started waiting for me at my bus stop.
The bus I take home from school stops right across the street from my home, so it's a
short walk.
One day, when I was getting off,
I saw him waiting at the bus stop.
Once he saw me get off,
he followed me into the complex and sat on the staircase.
He also started following me when I would walk my dog.
At this point, my parents were upset. My mom started letting
the neighbors know he was following me around. My neighbors started making sure he wasn't
bothering me. Or if I was alone, they would start a conversation with me until I got into
my door. One day, I got a friend request on Facebook from this guy.
Mind you, he had never spoken a word to me, so how did he even know my name?
Let alone find me on Facebook.
My mom tried talking to his father, but they would never answer the door when my mom knocked
on their door.
So I'm thinking, it can't possibly get any worse, right? He seemed harmless, so
I wasn't too worried. I was wrong. One day, when I returned from my boyfriend's house,
my mom told me she had something to tell me, but she didn't want me to get scared. She
proceeded to say that when she was walking towards the kitchen to get a glass of water,
she saw something in the tree move.
Our kitchen has a huge window that takes up most of the wall.
In front of the window, there's a huge tree.
If someone were to climb the tree, you could see into our apartment.
Well, guess what?
When my mom took a closer look, she realized that my neighbor was sitting in the tree looking
straight into our apartment.
My mom called my dad over, and when my neighbor saw my dad, he jumped out of the tree.
At that moment, I felt my peace was just stolen from me.
We filed a police report, but when the police went looking for him, he was gone.
It turned out there were snack wrappers and a blanket hidden in between the leaves
of the trees.
The police think that that wasn't the first time he was up on that tree.
I couldn't help but wonder how many times he saw me walking around. I really have no idea.
It's been about six months, and I haven't seen him since. My father still lives in the complex,
but there's no sight of him. The police haven't been able to find him, so
I have no idea what happened to him, but I hope we never meet again. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal
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That's managementconcepts.com. out their bedtime extended. You can get what you want even later, like the baconator with six strips of bacon, or the perfect fries and frosty duo. If you're up
later, then so are we. So go ahead and pull through the drive-through. When the
craving hits, go night mode at Wendy's. Open till midnight or later. All right, see ya.
Later. I participate in US Wendy's hours may vary. This happened to me and my
friend Ginny when we were both in high school, so approximately
six years ago.
I'm 23 now.
When we were 16, we loved drinking and smoking, but since we were underage, we had spent
quite a few nights standing next to a convenience store waiting for an adult stranger who agrees to buy us something to drink in
cigarettes, with our own money, of course.
The store is in a pretty trafficked part of our town, a lot of people coming in and out.
There are cars, buses, and pedestrians.
Also we live in such a safe city, with little to no crime we can walk at at nights, at 3 a.m. without having to worry too much.
I remember this one time, where Jenny and I walked to the store to try and buy cigarettes.
It wasn't too late into the evening. When we succeeded, we sat on a bench next to the store for a
smoke. When a strange man looks at us, parks his car and exits the driver's seat,
only to open all of his car doors and stand there. Just oddly staring first at us,
then different parts of his car than at the ground. He looked like he was in his late 50s,
frizzy white hair and eyes that looked extremely unaware but not frantic or anything
like that.
Now, I don't know if most girls are like this.
I know I'm not, and my logic says that we shouldn't be like this for the most part,
but I seem to attract girls who are very engaging when a person who screams stranger danger
approaches them.
Creeps, weirdos, men who awkwardly disturb us just to hit on one of us, even though neither
of us are interested.
Somehow every good girlfriend I've ever had had this weird annoying and may I say unsafe
habit to entertain these harassers.
The man felt incredibly off to me, and I remember Jenny looking at him, then at me in confusion,
when he walked over towards us, a few meters from his car, with all of his car doors still
open.
He stood about two meters from us, and about one meter from his car.
He started babbling some monologue about how he lost his phone inside his car.
He thinks, perhaps underneath the seat.
Damn, my heart is beating fast just from thinking about this.
He didn't give us a second to respond before asking us to look for it for him.
Ginny stands up and starts walking to his car.
I don't know much about cars.
It was an old grey standard vehicle, not a van or anything.
A yelled, Gin, what the hell are you doing?
Don't go inside a strange man's car.
The man noticed that I was distraught,
and Ginny says, I'm not getting inside, I'm just looking from the outside with my flash camera.
He says, no, please, just look inside to find it. She put maybe one foot inside, but I gave her a look,
one foot inside, but I gave her a look and tried to entertain this situation, mostly him, so that he wouldn't notice that she's inside his car behind him.
So I asked the man, why do you think your phone's underneath a seat?
I was driving here and I heard it ring somewhere inside the car when my daughter called.
I thought it might be inside my pocket.
Isn't it, I asked?
How would you know it's your daughter if you lost it?
No, it might be in my pocket, I don't know.
Can you check?
He walked a little closer to me.
He had a confused look like he sincerely didn't know where his phone was.
Like a child.
I responded.
No.
You.
Why would I check your pocket?
You're a grown man.
Check it yourself.
By this time, Ginny comes back to stand near me, as the man is a complete weirdo and is clearly
scaring me. As he continues to ask and beg us to check inside his car, I tell him no, and that I can
call his number for him to see where the ring would come from. The man says that he's out of battery so it wouldn't help. He keeps asking us to
basically crawl into his back seat. Thank God for extreme situational awareness while in
situations of stress, because the next thing I said may have saved Jenny who was completely
engaging and stood next to his car for a long while.
You said your daughter just called you and that you heard it from inside the car, and
if you didn't find the phone since then, you have no way of knowing the status of your
battery.
And if you did, then you're harassing us, and we're leaving.
Good luck finding your phone inside your pocket yourself.
Now revisiting the story, I'm aware that there could be reasonable explanations to all
that contradicted this whole creeps narrative. Maybe he's too old to bend over and look for
his phone. Maybe this was an emergency and that's why he was so incoherent and anxious to find it.
Maybe his battery was out and his speaker phone and his car passed his daughter's next phone call
over to the car system. But nothing I can think of can explain him being so stubborn with wanting us inside of the car. So whatever reasons that could make this story less creepy will not stand given the creepy
vibe this guy had.
I hope you found your phone, but let's never meet again. Hey guys, I just wanted to take a moment to tell you about one of my favorite podcasts
that I've been listening to for quite some time now.
It's called Small Town Dix.
It's a true crime podcast hosted by Yardley Smith, the voice of Lisa Simpson, and Dan and
Dave, who are identical twin
detectives from small town USA.
Each episode features an investigation from a small town in America and is told by the
detective who investigated it.
9-1-1 calls and suspect interviews bring these first-hand accounts to life, as well as shine a light on the fact
that the violent crimes committed in these modest communities are no less to praved and
vicious than they are in the big cities. They just happen with slightly less frequency.
As fellow detectives, Dan and Dave anchor the show, while Yardley asks questions, that
you would ask if you had a seat at the table.
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I had a very creepy friend. We'll call him Ben. I believe he might be a dangerous psychopath or at worst a serial killer. Ben and I met on Facebook in 2014, and he came to meet me in Romania in the summer of 2015.
He seemed a bit odd, but otherwise okay.
One strange thing about him was that while he was at my house for a week, he didn't
bathe for some odd reason, so he stink.
So I show him around Transylvania, and we both rent an apartment and another city before
his departure.
We hang around, and he leaves.
Our friendship continues online, and in 2016, I move back to Canada, in May of that year,
I fly over to Vancouver to hang out with him.
Now, it's important to know that this guy is a major gun nut.
He collects a lot of firearms and claims to have been briefly in the Canadian Army.
He also claims he worked as a mercenary and was in Georgia during the Russian invasion
of 2008. He claimed to have shot two people and also suffers from PTSD.
I get there and his apartment is filthy.
I'm talking trash everywhere, two cats that made the place stink of cat piss.
The guy kept the lights on 24-7, and on his wall was a clock that played a very loud tune every
hour. His behavior to me, while I was there, was somewhat disrespectful, but I just took
it as a buddy messing around with me. He said mildly creepy things, but again I brushed
it off as him being some kind of prankster.
I leave and again, our friendship continues online.
During this time, his conversations with me become darker and more hostile and a passive
aggressive sort of way.
Then is also a hardcore alcoholic who drinks until he passes out.
He does all sorts of anti-social and downright vile things when he's drunk.
During this time, 2016-2017, he said that two men briefly lived with him for a short
time. When I'd press him about what happened to those two men who lived with him, he'd change the subject quickly. After what happened
in 2018, I have a strong suspicion something bad might have happened to them. So fast forward
to 2018 and me and my parents are driving DaVancouver from Calgary. Perfect time we meet up and his behavior towards me is disrespectful in a passive-aggressive
way and very creepy. We go to his workplace,
and he's very subtly disrespectful to me and his co-workers. He's putting me on the spot
and trying to make me look stupid to everyone around. He was a supervisor, so most of the people
underneath him were too complacent or afraid to say anything. This man is obviously a psychopath.
This is where it gets to the point where I believe my life was actually in danger.
We go back to his place. He's drinking beer, and I'm rolling a joint. A movie is playing,
and Ben is getting tipsy. He's basically now adopted a speech pattern in our conversation where
I feel as though I'm being interrogated and toyed with. He's playing a video game on his
computer and I'm watching a movie. By this time, I'm feeling very uneasy and my gut instinct
is telling me to leave. And generally speaking, you always listen to your gut. That primal thing inside of you linked to your fight or flight is best to be obeyed.
Now as the day progressed and his been was becoming more and more drunk, he starts saying
very weird things.
He was mumbling about, I don't care for anyone but myself. I don't give a shit about other people and
There it is
a loaded shotgun beside the table
He looks at his computer screen and starts mumbling about being a madman with a gun
A few minutes later. He turns to me and says
Hey
What if I put some MDMA in your drink?
Pauled by, I'm just kidding.
The cat and mouse game continues.
Now he starts talking about knowing a guy who is HIV positive and how he's going to
get the guy to give him an infected needle to infect himself with HIV so he can live on government benefits for the rest of his life.
This guy is fucking unhinged. I'm sitting there and disbelief at just how vile he really is. I want to leave, but I also don't want him to know that I'm ready to go. It's an awful, vulnerable feeling if you've ever had it.
He has another beer, and turns to me.
I'm now very uncomfortable.
The talk is now about food.
He turns to me, and looks me straight in the eyes and asks, so if this were your last
meal, what would you have? The look on his face
was one of stone-faced sincerity and malice. I knew that I had to flee. My heart was pounding.
I need to make my move. With adrenaline rushing through my body, I tell Ben in a very calm manner
with adrenaline rushing through my body, I tell Ben in a very calm manner that the weed I had is making me feel fine and I need a breath of fresh air. I quickly put on my shoes and leave before he has any chance to stop me.
He makes me promise I'll be back. I go down the stairs, into the sunlight. I feel like an animal that's just escaped slaughter.
The police I'm staying at is not too far from Ben's house.
I'm wise enough not to tell him where I'm staying exactly, but I start walking, feeling
like I've just escaped certain death.
The phone rings.
Ben is asking where I'm at, and that he's panicking.
I tell him I'm still taking a breather, meanwhile,
I'm arriving at my cousin's house. I somehow manage to get inside.
Nights fall in. The guy is calling my phone constantly. When I answer, he's trying to get
me to meet up with him and go for a ride. The tone in his voice is flat and fake. He says that we've just had a bad night.
He's desperately trying to get me to go for that ride with him. I block his number. I block
him on social media. And that was the last time I spoke to that scumbag. In our many online conversations over the years, Ben would drop clues here and there about
his past that he did horrible things during his supposed gig as a mercenary.
He would get drunk and rant about being a bad man having done bad things. He was going to AA meetings and trying to put on a facade of normality by volunteering
at some old folks home.
Deep down, I do think he was a psychopath, but potentially dangerous one at that, and
I just hope that he never actually murdered anyone other than the two people he allegedly
shot while in combat.
Vancouver is a very sketchy place full of missing people.
I guess, we true horror podcast.
This week you have heard?
Someone broke into my house and tried to find me by Reddit user Staring Void.
My neighbor in the tree by Reddit user OVNI
Joyce. He lost his phone inside his car by Reddit user don't come around. And finally
my creepy friend Ben by Reddit user Melt Earth to see. Thanks for sending in all of your
stories they've been pouring in as a blade probably because we're all stuck inside and going a bit crazy with all
of this extra time on our hands but keep them coming. More material the better.
It keeps the podcast going after all I don't have a show without your stories.
And remember if you want to hear that story on the show just go ahead and email me
at Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
And if you have any questions or just want to reach out, email me at Let's Not Meet
Podcast at gmail.com.
I am continuing to stream on the Twitch channel where either playing video games or watching
movies are just chatting and hanging out, as I have said before.
Not every single night, as I do need a few nights off every once in a while, but don't
forget to check that out at twitch.tv-slashletznotmeat-streams.
And don't forget, if you want to check out the Patreon, you can put a patreon.com-forward-slashletznotmeat-podcast
to get access to all of the bonus material.
Thanks so much for supporting me, and I appreciate every one of my listeners.
I'll see you next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. 1 tbc 1 tbc 1 tbc
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1 tbc 1 tbc . Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed for federal
government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to individualize
coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business acumen.
Management concepts optimizes your professional development.
Online in-person, individually, or groups.
It's training that's measurably better.
Learn more at managementconcepts.com.
That's managementconcepts.com.
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