Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 5x04: Exorcism - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: November 30, 2020Stories in this episode: -Time the man who tried to rob me, left with less than what he came - Josh de Klerk. -The Scariest Drive of my Life - Sal 42. -Rattlesnake Festival Creep - Sara Tisdale.... -Bang Bang - Foxysinatra101. -Work Wife - vidaunraveled. -How a white lie led to an exorcism - Llewellyn.  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 hear your story on the show, send it to letsnotmeetstories@gmail.com.  Visit PrettyLitter.com today and use promo code 'MEET' for 20% off your first order.  Start straightening your teeth today. Right now, all my listeners can save $75 on Candid’s starter kit. Go to Candidco.com/meet and use code MEET.  Visit betterhelp.com/meet to get 10% off your first month! Join the over 1,000,000 people in taking charge of their mental health with the help of an experienced professional today. Follow Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - http://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - http://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/
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My name is Anturtate and this is season 5 episode 4 of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. Thank you. I live in South Africa in a smaller neighborhood amongst many in the city.
It's not uncommon to hear of people being robbed here, but the funny thing is, they aren't
always the smartest people out there.
This occurred around one week ago.
Now, I'm a big guy, six foot one, half African, half German, I'm a high school student.
For a bit of backstory, before beginning, we have these beams covering the entire exterior
of the house from top to around the center parts of the building,
as well as the exterior alarm system, which alerts us to trespassers when a door or window is opened.
Another small bit of info. I seem to wake up just before something happens to me or my family.
I guess it's sort of a sixth-sense type thing. For example, waking up just before
the alarm goes off or just before my parents enter my room minutes later. It was a Sunday morning.
My mom, dad, and I were the only ones in our house at the time. At around five, I woke up.
But the strange thing was that I had woken up an hour earlier than what I usually would
on a weekend.
6am without a doubt.
So I knew something was up.
As these thoughts were rushing through my mind, like an overworked college student late
for an evening class, I heard a shrill scream from my mom's room. Knowing her, as she is extremely loud in general, and tends to shout over the smallest things,
that wasn't too concerned, as of yet.
But when she called mine in my dad's name, I knew something was up.
Just as I realized my mother's panic state, I heard footsteps stumbling down the hall.
The desperation to get away was extremely audible by the constant yet strangely inconsistent steps.
Without a thought, I sprung out of my bed like a tightly wound coil, and proceeded to sprint in the direction of the intruder.
I ran into my living room, and spotted the man escaping through the bottom half of my
living room window, which was close to the ground.
The window is a solid pain, which doesn't open, as it was mainly there for illumination
from the sun. He didn't trip the alarm
as he crawled into the beam, and was able to take out the window pane whilst on his stomach
without setting the alarm off. I caught up to him in my front yard where he decided to
throw a bag with all his belongings over into our neighbor's yard.
He continued to run in a frantic panic, like a carriage missing a whale stumbling across our backyard.
When I caught up to him this time, he now realizing that he had nowhere left to turn.
He looks at me. As he did, I caught myself staring at a glistening piece of sharp metal staring right back at me.
It was a Stanley knife, more commonly known as a box cutter.
He decided it was a good idea to taunt me by gesturing his other vacant hand at me, signaling
for me to come closer.
He began to speak to me in this almost demonic sounding voice,
of course me being in my half-sleep, contributed to the sound of his voice. He said,
come, come in his words. He was a large man, clean-shaven, some would call Big Bone'd. He wore long, khaki brown pants, as well as a black jacket, and a t-shirt.
However, I was too tired to identify any prominent features.
He took a slice at my abdomen, as he did.
As dumb as this was, I took a swing at him. Half asleep me barely did any damage even though I do kickboxing training.
I didn't really know what I was doing though.
As I did, something seemed to drop from his pocket, but I didn't pay too much attention
to it.
I chased him for a couple more minutes until he got to my wall and jumped over
to my neighbor's garden. I didn't chase him after that. When my adrenaline wore off,
I checked myself to see if I was wounded and I realized that my shirt was torn down
the middle. I was bleeding from the stomach, as the intruder had been able to cut me with
his sorry excuse for a weapon.
The bleeding wasn't bad.
I knew how to properly treat myself as I'm a level three first aid student.
I went to the garden where we had our encounter and realized that after I hit the man, the
thing that dropped was his cell phone, an old blackberry.
Funny thing is, we also recovered his bag
with all his belongings in it.
Both cutters, bottle of whiskey that he stole
from our bar, his jacket, all stuffed in a
primary school child's bag.
Knowing that he robbed a child was even more frightening.
Knowing that this could have been 10 times worse than it was, I'm extremely thankful for my second chance, and definitely,
if he decides to return, I won't be ready with the weapon that has his name on it.
The ambulance came and took me to the hospital to get a tetanus shot. We never caught him, but to that dumbass thief who left with less than he came,
let's never meet again.
A couple of buddies and myself love to listen to your podcast while delivering pizza.
It's really been a great way to get through the shift, and it's been a huge talking point
for us when we get back to the shop.
With that being said, I've been wondering whether or not I should share my own story.
But I've come to the conclusion of, why not?
It takes place two years ago,
about halfway through my junior year in college.
Being from New York, I regularly took trips
to and from Rhode Island, where I attended school,
making drives like the one I'm about to describe to you today,
one that really wasn't out of the ordinary.
Something I realized over time is that I could cut my almost four-hour drive back to Rhode Island
by almost a third if I drove late at night, where the cars that were left on the road were sporadic.
Late-night travelers, like myself, and large trucks hauling their
goods to and from shipping sites.
Being that I've made this trip, dozens of times already by my junior year, I wasn't
turned off at all by the thought of doing it again after leaving my sister's engagement
party at approximately 11.30 pm.
I said my goodbyes and well wishes to my family's sister and her at the time fiance, and I was
on my merry way, as I truly did enjoy the long, alone time driving at night with some great
tunes.
The drive itself was going very well.
I was making some of the best time that I had ever made from New
York to Rhode Island. And the elation that carried on from that joyous event, I just attended
had kept me in good spirits. That is until about 40 minutes remained in my drive. You see
the route that my GPS took me this time around had had me get onto a one-lane highway upon getting into
Rhode Island that I had only ever been on once before during the day.
This wasn't incredibly unusual as tracking systems have taken me a multiple of different
routes over the course of several trips that I had taken. So I didn't pay any mind. However, this is
where the story takes a turn, unlike any that I would have ever predicted as a 20-year-old
college kid with the wind and his back, anxious to greet his several roommates back at their
shared rental home on the shores of a beautiful beach town hugging
the lip of Rhode Island.
I was absolutely flying, never quite rearing under 75 miles per hour.
Although I was getting quite fast, like I mentioned before, the highway was only one lane,
so eventually I came across another car driving ahead of me.
Also, going incredibly fast.
I thought it was cool at first that this red run down sedan and I were both flying through
this highway and what felt like unison until the car took a dead stop in the middle of
this one lane road and reared over to the dirt on the right side.
It was now almost 2 a.m. and admittedly I felt inconvenienced having to slow down. I was
so close to my house, only about 45 minutes left in my trip. I beeped at the car, then
floored it. Reaching my top speeds again within seconds, and not thinking anything of it until the
car sped up behind me and began to hug my tail.
I figured that whoever was in that car must have been upset about something, but I didn't
feel as though I was following them too closely, and
I definitely wasn't anywhere close enough to warrant a response like I was experiencing.
This persisted for about 10 minutes until reaching the end of the highway that connected to
an eerie, dark, and empty intersection.
Immediately upon approaching the red lights,
the red sedan pulled up next to me
and gave face to the frustration of a man,
burly and older, and what I'd say was about his late 40s.
The cocky 20-year-old that I was,
threw my hands up in the air and looked at him, as if
to say, what's your problem?
His response was almost identical, however his reaction did not end there.
I began to roll down my passenger-side window as I thought some nasty words were about
to be exchanged, but I was definitely not prepared
for the exchange that persisted, instead. The man emerged from his car, flinging the door open,
standing tall and infuriated. To paint a visual picture, imagine the look of an old drunk, angry lumberjack.
Indistinctively, I rolled the remainder of my car window up and locked the doors to my
car with extreme haste.
The man peered through my passenger window and began slamming his fists against the
glass, yelling and audible profanities while yanking on my
passenger's side door as if to rip it open.
This whole ordeal was happening in seconds, and the light ahead of me was still red, but
I floored it with my foot to the ground without waiver.
I wish I could tell you that the story ends here, but it doesn't.
The man ran back into his car and began to follow me again.
I'm now doing 80 miles per hour in residential areas blasting through red lights and twisting
and turning down roads trying to lose this absolute maniac.
After another 15 minutes had passed, with no waiver on his end, I decided
it was time I called for a situation. A situation amongst my college roommates means that something
serious that requires all of our attention immediately is happening. I called my roommate Sam,
being lucky that he was even awake after 2am and I explained
my situation.
He mentioned that our roommate Marcel and his friends from home had still been awake
as well, and that he would wake the rest of the house, so that if I were to come home
still being followed this maniac would be greeted by eight young men with bats and other
weapons. Loan behold, the man actually did follow me all the way back. A 40 plus minute
drive back to my college home upon entering the neighborhood I strategically made turns
to give myself a couple of seconds at my house before he would
arrive behind me.
I parked the car in my driveway and immediately my friends started piling out of the house.
We all approached the vehicle, which had now been stopped across the street, and began
slamming on it with our hands, making gestures and remarks to the man.
In response, he stepped on the gas hard and began jerking his vehicle,
trying his best to hit us with his fucking car
in the middle of the street.
We ran on to ours and the neighboring properties,
which had large rocks separating the street from the lawns, and by the skin of our teeth
managed to avoid getting hit by this madman.
He then drove away, circled the block once, and seeing us all still there decided that
it would be in his best interest to leave.
Needless to say, that was one of the craziest experiences and definitely the
scariest drive of my life. To the drunk or drugged out maniac who followed me for 45 minutes
back to my house, let's never meet again. 18T Fiber presents A Straight Forward Moment
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I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good.
And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending.
Are you a Gagillionaire?
Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber.
The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward.
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I should probably say a little bit about myself
before I get started.
First of all, I live in a small town in the south
where I was homeschooled by my mom as a kid
and online schooled as a teen.
I have six siblings, so it's not like I had trouble in a group of people, but still.
As a homeschool kid, I blossomed into a sheltered teen.
Another thing you should know about me is that I go buck wild over holidays and special
occasions.
Any excuse for festivities in a town where nothing happens, and where I don't have
many friends, and I'm all over it.
Luckily for me, there's a big festival in my town.
Once each year, the entire town gets blanketed by festivals, covering the streets
and stalls for delicious, greasy food, snake memorabilia, and your pick of homemade
jewelries as well as crafts from locals. There's also a whole flea market, and of course,
your obligatory carnival games and rides. It's actually a snake-themed festival.
But you can avoid all of that if you're not a big snake person.
And the most that tourists usually do is snag a basket of fried rattlesnake.
Needless to say, it's tons of fun for me, and I make it a point to go every single year.
This particular time, I was 16. I went with my cousin, and since she wasn't usually around, that led us to check out some of the stalls that I would normally walk right by if I were by myself,
or with one of my siblings. My cousin stops to browse in front of a stall, a long table covered in ceramic animals
and other chachkis.
I'm not really interested, but she's engrossed with those things, so by lingering and paw
through the selection while I wait for her to pick one to buy.
While I'm standing there, the middle-aged man sitting behind the stall turns his attention
away from his phone and directly towards me.
He sits up and starts talking to me.
Now, it's not weird for people to be unusually nice and throw a few compliments at you
to try and get you to buy some stuff.
So at first, I just thought that's what he was doing.
He's layering at me now while he's talking.
And he starts to throw out comments,
telling me how beautiful I am.
And not the a pretty girl like you definitely needs a ceramic turtle.
Salesman type of thing.
Creepy things, such as,
you must drive all the boys crazy at your college.
A curvy blonde like you.
Clearly, darting his eyes towards my chest at regular intervals. I bet they
never leave you alone. By this time I was so very uncomfortable and so unprepared to
navigate this kind of situation. But he called me a college girl and I thought he would
definitely back off on the creepy
comments about how he bets boys couldn't keep their hands off of me and how beautiful
he thought I was if he knew that I was only in high school.
So I corrected him, trying not to sound unnerved.
Oh, I'm not in college, I'm actually a high schooler.
I'm only 16. Yeah, if I weren't so
sheltered, I would have known that this is not a thing that creeps care about. He was
completely unaffected by this knowledge. And he even seemed like this might have encouraged
him more. He kept eyeing me and giving me creepy compliments. He even asked where I lived,
and thankfully I was scared enough at that point not to give him any concrete answers.
The comments were awful, and I felt gross, but by far the worst part of this whole interaction
was when he took his phone back out and lined it up taking several photos of me.
I didn't have a chance to say anything or stop him.
But even if I did, I'm ashamed to say that I was completely frozen in place.
I had never experienced anything like this before,
and I felt gross and scared.
My reaction was just to freeze up.
I think he gave me some lazy excuse for why he needed photos of me, something about a beauty contest. There were no beauty contests in my town,
and if there were, that is obviously not what he wanted pictures for.
If you're wondering why my cousin didn't intervene that whole time, she didn't think it
was a big deal at all.
She laughed at how funny it was and seemed annoyed that I just stood there the whole time.
I think she thought that I was enjoying it, but I still don't understand why she didn't
lead us away as soon as the guy started paying special attention to me.
I went directly home, and only when I sat down on my couch did I realize how shaken up
I was.
I held back tears and explained to my mom about a creepy man saying creepy things and taking
creepy pictures of me.
She was justifiably horrified.
My cousin thought the whole thing was funny and I stayed at home for the rest of the day.
The next day I went back to the festival with a larger group, including one of my sisters
and two of my brothers.
I told them about where the stall was, and that I wanted to avoid it,
leaving out the finer details of my interaction with the guy. Still, on the walk home,
I was in visual range of the stall, and the creepy men tried to yell,
hey beautiful, at me to get my attention. My heart already racing, I stirred straight ahead and pretended not to hear.
He followed this up with, is it always this hard to get her to smile at my group,
as we all passed the stall? One of my brothers joked. I think he was talking to me.
I guess I felt better for it, but I was still unreasonably shaken up by the fact that he
had picked me out of a crowd and tried to talk to me again.
I didn't think any of this was concrete enough to bother reporting it to the police, so the
best I could do was avoid the stall at any cost any time the festival rolled around.
Even if it made my walks into the festival much longer, and
more round about. I think he still comes every year, though. It sets up in the same
spot, always. I hope he wouldn't recognize me now, though. I've since dyed my hair red,
and I get the sense that, since I'm an adult, I wouldn't be half as appealing.
I know the whole thing is pretty mild compared to some of the other stories here, and I came
out and escaped, but occasionally I think about the fact that he has those photos of me,
and I feel a bit nauseous.
So to the creep you took photos when I was a teen, let's not meet.
So this happened a few months ago.
I am 29 years old.
I am a female.
I'm not sure if I'm overreacting because of the myriad of
true crime that I listened to on the daily, or if this dude actually would have tried
something. But you tell me what you think. I'm going to call him Kyle. I had previously
hooked up with this guy two years ago and had a great time.
I still had his number and decided to hit him up.
I got to his house and everything was going great until he asked me if I mind him doing
a touch of cocaine.
I said, sure, you do you, man.
I had never been around anyone on cocaine, so I was just going
to roll with it and go from there. Fast forward to the erectile dysfunction cocaine causes
and him getting very upset about it. He was drinking wine this whole time, and started pacing after
I played a song that I thought was sexy, which turned out to be a huge trigger for him,
apparently. He disappeared for a minute, and when I went to look for him, I saw him doing
more cocaine. After that, I decided I didn't want to be there anymore. But I wasn't sure how to
leave because he was acting very scary. He asked if I wanted to chill in the couch for just a bit.
I said sure because the only thing I knew to do was be cool and complimentary, to keep him calm.
He cool and complimentary to keep him calm. He proceeds to tell me that he's relapsed on his drug habits and feels depressed and angry
about our situation.
And he has trust issues.
I said, what trust issues?"
He said, I don't trust females.
Going off the true crime knowledge, not many men say that and then follow it up with
good things.
So in my head, I'm thinking, well, I'm dying tonight.
He then pulls out a literal three-inch pipe.
He keeps in his couch and proceeds to smoke weed.
He gets visibly mad when I won't smoke with him, because I started a new job and they
drunk test.
So now he's coked out, wind drunk, and high.
The dude doesn't even know what realm he's in right now.
He goes to the bathroom, and I text my friend, his address, just in case now. He goes to the bathroom and I text my friend his address just in case
and ask her to text me in 30 minutes that my dogs are loose. And then again in 10 minutes
reminding me. Also, I know I should have run out the door when he went to the bathroom.
And how'd it been a movie? I would have screamed at myself. However, I went and
located my keys, shoes, and jacket just in case when he comes back and wants to watch
a movie. He puts on a Tarantino movie after calling me very rude names for not liking Spider-Man.
My friend finally text me. While I'm looking at the phone, he says,
Are you telling people how bad you want to get out of here?
I say, no, my dogs are loose, and I need to go get them.
He looks at me dead in the face and says,
Why are you lying to me? I told him I wasn't lying, while trying not to freak out and apologized.
My friend then texts me the 10 minute reminder.
I tell him, hey, I really have to go get my dogs.
He then throws his head back, laughs, and spreads his arms across the couch, telling me how
relaxing this song was.
The song was Bang Bang by Nancy Sinatra, which is creepy as fuck.
He said, you're just like all the rest.
All females do is play the victim.
He lifted his head and looked at me saying absolutely nothing, just intense eye contact
while that song played.
I got my jacket, shoes, and keys and said, I'm sorry you feel that way, but I'm leaving. It was so scary putting
everything on, waiting for the moment when he would lunge at me. But he just stayed there
staring at the ceiling, singing the words bang, bang, he shot me down, bang, bang. My
keychain got stuck in the door as I tried to leave, which made me want to scream.
I yanked my keys out and ran to my car.
I didn't even turn on the lights.
I just peeled out of there.
So angry, coked out guy, let's never meet again. 18T fiber presents a straightforward moment.
Your wine?
Thanks.
I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good.
And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending.
Are you a Gagillionaire?
Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber.
The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward.
Me too.
Ugh, this wine. I'll fetch you a better one.
Straight forward is better.
No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months.
Live like a Gagillionaire with AT&T Fiber.
Limited availability in select areas,
visit AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details. AT&T Fiber presents a Straight Forward Moment.
You're wine? Thanks. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing before saying it's good.
And I'll pretend I don't know you're pretending. Are you a Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber.
The Straight Forward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward. Me too. This wine
I'll fetch you a better too. Ugh, this wine.
I'll fetch you a better one.
Straight forward is better.
No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months.
Live like a giggilionaire with AT&T fiber.
Limited availability in select areas.
Visit ATT.com slash hypergig for details.
I met Duncan at work.
He was a friend of a friend that worked in the same school and seemed nice enough,
if just a little odd.
I heard through the grapevine that he rubbed most people the wrong way, and was a little
creepy, but he was always friendly to me, so I didn't think much of it.
I was an office assistant, and he would often stop by my office to chit chat throughout
the day.
We became friends and would often eat lunch together with our friend Esperanza.
I didn't have a car at the time, so sometimes Duncan or Esperanza would give me a ride home
after work.
Everything was fine for a couple of months until his tone became slightly more flirty, and
he would often make comments to me about
how pretty I looked. I started feeling uncomfortable about it as I was married at the time, and
I asked Esperanza in private if she could take me home from that point on whenever I
needed a ride. About a week later, he came into my office one day with a very serious expression on
his face.
You haven't asked for a ride home lately, he said.
Obviously hurt.
Oh, I know, it's out of the way for you, and Esperanza said that she could go ahead and
take me from now on." I replied back.
A quizzical look passed across his face, and then his usual happy go lucky demeanor came back.
Yeah, sure, no problem, but if you ever need a ride, I'm here for you.
He never really mentioned anything about it again.
you. He never really mentioned anything about it again. Fast forward a few months, and the details are a bit hazy as this happened about 10 years ago, but I know I needed to use this
USB from him that we used to pass along daily for sign-in sheets for our students. I plugged
the USB into my computer and I noticed a file that I had never really seen or
paid attention to before.
The reason I even thought to click on it, traced back to one of our conversations we had
with Esperanza while eating lunch one day.
He mentioned casually to me that he often told his wife he referred to me as his work
wife.
Something that I told him I was very uncomfortable with, and I requested that he stop joking
like that.
This file on his USB stick stuck out to me because it only had two letters, W, W, and for some reason it sent a chill down my back.
I don't know what made me click on it, but as soon as I did,
fear took over my whole body.
In the file, I saw that he had uploaded over 500 photos of me,
that he had taken without my knowledge.
Multiple photos of me sitting at my desk, photos of me standing on the hallway, of me
talking to students, smiling, blurry photos of me that looked as if they had been taken
quickly before I had seen him doing so.
I clicked every single photo. They were all of me.
Looking at all of this creeped me out and I can only blame what I did on adrenaline
or fear. I copied the file and all the photos onto my personal computer and deleted everything from his USB.
Now, looking back, I realized that I should have just told my supervisor immediately.
But I truly did consider him a friend,
and instead I handed it back over to him and said,
look, I don't know why you had all of those pictures of me on there,
but they're gone now.
Please don't ever take any pictures of me without my consent again."
I guess I was just hoping that by him knowing that I knew that that would just be the end
of it. And I thought it worked. He was embarrassed, flustered, and very apologetic. I just wanted memories of working with you.
He said this was a very creepy statement.
Due to this situation, I ended up distancing myself from him, and not long after I ended
up getting promoted to another position in a different school a few months later.
He would call or text me every now and then,
but I really didn't feel comfortable talking to him anymore.
The thought later came to my mind that maybe
he had all those pictures saved elsewhere,
but I was just glad that I was away from him
in that whole situation.
It doesn't end there though. Months later, I had a new car,
new job, and I hadn't really thought about him or this situation much until I came home one day
to find out that my house that we rented had been broken into. Not much had been taken.
Now except my laptop, a few pieces of jewelry, and a picture of my husband and I that I hung
by the front door.
I instantly knew that it had to be Duncan.
A couple of days later, I received a text from him asking me how I was doing.
I responded and said that my house had been broken into recently.
His response?
Truth?
It wasn't me.
Just to get that out there.
But you were lucky he didn't walk in while they were there.
You really could have gotten hurt.
Did they take any specific items?
He asked.
He listened to say, I went to the police with this information and with the photos, but they
of course said there wasn't enough proof and to just let them know if we had any more
incidents with this person in the future.
I blocked Duncan's number, and because I felt so unsafe in that house, my husband and
I ended up purchasing a new home and moved far away.
Looking back, there were so many things I could have done differently about the situation,
but because I considered him a friend I never wanted to take it that far.
I'm just so glad he doesn't have access to me anymore.
About a year ago, Esperanza reached out to me and said that
she ran into Duncan at a grocery store. She said he told her that his wife had passed away peacefully
in her sleep, and that he kept bringing up my name in the conversations. Apparently, he told her that he missed his work wife
and told her to give me his number.
I, of course, declined.
So Duncan, please, let's never meet again.
This happened 15 years ago in my final year of high school. In the country where I lived, they took Christianity very seriously.
You were raised Christian.
At school, we had Bible lessons and scripture readings every morning before class started,
and your social life pretty much revolved around the church.
When this event occurred, I was a youth leader at my church, and I even had a key to open
the church every Friday evening and Sunday.
That was a pretty awkward kid, though.
A bit weird and perhaps a little eccentric.
So I didn't have that many friends in school, too, to be exact. That was a real social outcast back then.
We also lived about 60 kilometers away from the school. And I had to wait like four or five hours
after school for my mom to come pick me up so that we could go home. All these facts will be important for later. My story starts
in January of my final year. As final year students, we had slightly more privileges than
all the other students. For one, every morning, we would all meet in a big hall for Bible ratings and the announcements
for the week.
Here all the young students would sit on the icy cold floor at the bottom of the hall
and the final year students and the very few girls would sit on chairs at the top of
the gallery overlooking the big hall. This was always made out to be a major privilege.
We also had a choice to attend sports events like Rugby or athletics. One of the major sporting events in the
beginning of the year was the Inter high school athletics competition here on one day in January, all the schools in the area would compete
against each other to find the best athletes so they could be nominated to represent the
area in provincial competitions. At these competitions, all the students from each school would
need to attend as spectators. Final year students had a choice whether or not they wanted to go.
However, this year, this event was moved to another school and there wasn't enough space
for each high school's entire populace.
Therefore, only the first year and final year students were forced to go.
Given that final year students always had a choice in the past, and that this event was
on a Friday, my two friends, who all called Dr. Dre and the wizard and I, decided to stay
at home and make a long weekend out of it.
Dr. Dre was the only normal person and the little group of friends.
Dr. Dre was really into rap music.
He had good relationships with the teachers, all the different clicks of friends. Dr. Dre was really into rap music. He had good relationships with
the teachers, all the different clicks of students, from the jocks to the geeks. They all liked him.
And he was overall a really decent kid, very wise and smart for his age. The wizard on the other
hand was a very tall, blonde, Dutch boy that was into very weird things. People found him to be extremely weird, but didn't
pick on him. He liked to catch mice in the field, skin them and make stuff from their
skins. He was in his own mind into wizardry. He identified as dark wickca or a Dark Witch. He was just overall kind of weird.
Anyway, the Monday morning after the Athletics event, my two friends and I went to the big
hall for the daily Bible lesson and announcements, as was customary.
We sat at the top of the gallery and waited for the plebs to fill the hall at the bottom.
When everyone took their seats, two student leaders came to the gallery and said that
everyone that wasn't at the event on Friday will need to go sit at the bottom with the
plebs for the rest of the year.
Apparently, they handed out little cards on Friday, and we didn't have them.
So my friends and I awkwardly stood up and made our way down the stairs. Halfway down,
I told them that it was kind of bullshit that we had to go sit with the kids.
The wizard then said, I say we just go outside the hall and refuse to go in.
wizard then said, I say we just go outside the hall and refuse to go in. Make a statement about it.
At the time, we thought it was a good idea and went to sit outside.
About 15 minutes later, a student leader came to ask us why we were sitting outside.
I responded, it's none of your business.
And he proceeded to call one of the teachers.
Our mathematics teacher, a short mid-40s balding Greek man, came outside and asked why
we were sitting there.
Without thinking the wizard said, it's against our religion.
The teacher asked what religion it was, and we didn't respond.
He turned around and walked away. We didn't
mention which religion we were, and at the time we thought it was a very smart response.
Later that day we were in our home room class, the intercom went off, that broadcasted over
the entire school. An old woman's voice asked the wizard, Dr. Dre, and I to go to the principal's office.
Obviously, this story had already spread across the entire school, and everyone knew what this was
about. We went to his office and sat on the old wooden benches in front of his door. Dr. Dre
was the first to be asked to go in. Ten minutes later, he comes out and returns to class.
The wizard and I were then asked to come in together.
The principal asked us to sit down and proceeded to ask us to explain the situation.
Not willing to give up the jig, we proceeded to stick to our story. He then asked if we were
Satanists. The wizard then responded and said something that would put me on a path of
lifelong psychological trauma. The wizard said, yes, even though he wasn't. The principal then proceeded to ask questions why and how and when.
It felt like we were sitting there for hours.
The wizard said that he was in it for the power and control.
All the time I'm thinking, what the fuck, dude?
I was quiet throughout the entire session, though.
Mostly because I was afraid, but primarily because I was shocked from the things that came out of his mouth.
Around an hour later, we were asked to leave and return to class, and I thought that the situation was resolved.
The next day at 7 a.m., all the students lined up in the quad as we always did from Tuesday until Friday.
The principal did his Bible reading and then the announcements.
His final announcement sent shivers down my spine, though. He said that he made it his mission
to destroy the satanic rituals and Satanists in the school. At this point, it felt like all the students' heads turned towards me.
With the extra incentive, the majority of the students started to bully me, and I was
consistently made fun of.
Given that both Dr. Dre and the wizard were macho gym junkies, no one picked on them.
So I took the brunt of the students and teachers' wrath.
This went on for about three months.
By the end of the third month, people already forgot that Dr. Dre and the wizard were involved
in the matter, and I was basically now labeled the school demon.
The face of the quote unquote satanic cult in school.
Already an outcast, my life was now an absolute living hell.
The smart astrum mark to get us not to sit at the bottom of the hall had now turned into
a life of constant physical and psychological torture from students and teachers.
Although I kept telling everyone that I wasn't a Satanist, and that it was the wizard lying
to get us out of sitting with the younger students, no one believed me.
Everything weird that happened at the school was now always made out to be my fault.
I even talked to the principal, and even my pastor from the church, but nothing ever came
of it. I just wanted the torture to stop, and no one would believe me.
So this brings me to D-Day, the last Friday of the semester.
The school got out at 11.
It usually got out a little bit later.
Although the school was out, and everyone was on their way home for the start
of the summer vacation, I still had to stay at school until around 5.30 so that my mom
could pick me up after work and we could go home.
Around 11.30, the school was empty and I proceeded to go sit under my usual tree and entertain
myself with snake on my old Nokia phone.
Mid-game I see the Vice Principal and the teacher that was in charge of religious studies.
They walk up to me.
They asked very politely if I wanted to ride with them.
I declined saying that my mom would be here at any moment to pick me up.
The Vice Principal said he already spoke to my mom, and she wasn't mom would be here at any moment to pick me up. The vice principal said,
he already spoke to my mom, and she wasn't going to be here till around six. Fair enough,
he caught me out of my bowl should excuse, and given that that was the usual time she would pick me
up, I didn't think to question it any further. We walked to his car and I asked where we were going.
We walked to his car and I asked where we were going. He said he wanted to introduce me to what he called a friend of his.
We climbed into the car and drove 15 minutes until we arrived at a church.
I knew the church because that was where the school's minister, kind of like a priest,
worked.
The minister was big and wobbly.
He looked as if he could afford to skip a few meals, a pudgy fellow with rosy cheeks,
a massive belly, and this weird, bluish, gray tent to his eyes that always seemed as if
it stares through you as he looks at you.
We'll call him minister bear. So we get there and I feel my heart sink into my shoes.
I knew where this was going. I was walked around the church and led into a dark room in the back
of the building. As my eyes adjusted from the bright sun to the
darkish room, I saw Minister Bear sitting behind his antique yellow wooden desk.
He welcomed my two teachers and stood up and made his way around the desk. As his friendly eyes move slowly away from my teachers and towards me, his gaze systematically
turned into this deep look of concern and fear.
He locked the door next to me and said in a deep and serious voice, I feel a dark presence
in this room. He then thanked my teachers for bringing me there.
He told my teachers to sit in the corner and ushered me into a chair in front of his desk.
He sat down and proceeded to ask me a bunch of personal questions. It started innocent enough like who I was and where I lived, then drifted
towards, if I ever had sex, if I am gay, which is a taboo subject where I'm from, then
the questions became darker. I would answer, and he would tell my teachers, this isn't
her talking. He then asked me, if I was a Satanist, to which I responded
with a clear no. I told him I was a youth leader in my church, and that he could phone my
pastor to ask. He would then respond by saying things like, don't lie to me, demon, release
this child of God.
The more I would deny his claims, the more he would tell my teachers that they needed
to pray because the demon has a very strong hold on me.
This went on for about two hours.
I looked at my watch and it was clearly 130.
He then asked the demon inside me its name, and how many of them were in
me. I kept denying it and eventually I burst into tears, begging him to let me go. He said to my
teachers that this was a demon's way to escape, that he was getting closer to getting them to release me.
He asked me about Satanist rituals, and in between each question he would ask, he
would pray under his breath.
No matter how much I cried, he didn't want to stop.
I stood up and screamed that I'm going to phone the police and ran to the door.
I tried to open it, I shook the
handle, but it was locked. You won't escape this room with this child, demon. He yelled. I fell to the
ground crying, saying that my mom is looking for me and that I just want to go home. At this stage,
she picked me up with both his hands and held me in the air.
He pushed me against the wall and started praying louder.
As I struggled to get free, he yelled at my teachers to come put their hands on me and
pray as the demons were losing control.
I was afraid for my life.
As a kid of 17, I didn't know what was going on. I remember thinking that
how can they feel a dark presence as I spend all my time in church? Why don't they want to
phone my pastor? Why won't they believe me? At this stage, I realized that the only way out of this
was to act the role that they clearly want me to play. That would be the only way out of this was to act to the role that they clearly want me to play.
That would be the only way out of this locked room.
I tried to pull my tears back and look him in the eyes.
I tried to push the quiver out of my voice.
Okay, you got me, minister.
I said, you can have the child.
He immediately dropped me and took a couple of steps back.
He stared repeating the questions from earlier and told my teachers to pray harder
as we are now getting to the crux of the matter. They needed to cast him out.
I kept responding to the questions in the way I thought they wanted.
I then started speaking German backwards as they started praying harder. I kept responding to the questions in the way I thought they wanted.
I then started speaking German backwards as they started praying harder.
At this point, I just wanted to get out of there.
After what felt like years, they finally stopped, and I fell to the ground.
Minister Bear said, it's done. Laying on the ground, the tears again started bawling out of my eyes, but this time out
of total relief.
They asked me how I felt, and I couldn't stop crying.
I just wanted to go home.
I lied again, and I said, I feel relieved and lighter.
And then I'm not sure what was going on and how I got there.
The minister then told me that I was possessed with a series of demons.
I can't remember the names that he gave them, and that they were holding on deeply to
my soul, that it took hours for them to cast them out, but that I'm free now.
That's why I felt so light and that crying is normal.
He prayed one more time and gave me his number.
He told me that I should come see him next week, and that I should phone him
if I feel something is coming back.
They finally unlocked the door, not knowing if I was actually free to go, I stood there silently, still shaking, looking
at my watch.
It was now 5.45, and I knew that my mom was waiting for me at school.
The teachers then asked if it was okay to go.
They then took me back to the school and dropped me off at my mom's car. I climbed in and burst into tears. My mom asked what was wrong and I explained.
She then told me that I probably just misunderstood what was going on
and that she would speak to the principal. Nothing ever came of this.
people. Nothing ever came of this. This was by far the most traumatic event in my life. Although I know I contributed to the situation 15 years later as a trained and registered
psychologist, the matter still haunts me. So minister bear my vice principal and my Bible
study teacher. Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast.
This week you have heard, the time the man who tried to rob me, left with less than what
he came by Josh D. Clarke, the scariest drive of my life by Sal for you too.
Rattlesnake Festival Creep by Listener Sarah Tisdale
Bang Bang by Foxy Sinatra 101
WorkWife by Listen listener Vida Unraveled.
And finally, how a white lie led to an exorcism by listener Luelin.
All 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 want to hear your story on the show send it to Let's Not Meet Stories Meet a True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online.
As always, if you want to hear your story on the show, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories
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I read every email that I get, I take them very seriously, and I truly appreciate all
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If you want to support the show, head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet
Podcasts to get access to bonus episodes and exclusive merchandise.
I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet the True, Horror,
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