Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 5x05: Do You Know Kelly? - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: December 7, 2020Stories in this episode: - Creepy Man Chases Us Down An Alleyway - Amanda Fear. - Did I Create A Monster - Letthelightinside. - Untitled - Anonymous. - Untitled - Maria Valkyrie. - Pro Tip: D...on't Be Alone In A Hotel Room With Creepy Men Who Have Bad Intentions - Pizzabubbles. - Why You Should Never Hike Alone - Sarah. 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. Take charge of your mental health with the help of an experienced professional. Go to Betterhelp.com/meet and 10% off of your first month. Give your loved ones the gift of spending time together, wherever you live, with StoryWorth. Get started right away with no shipping required by going to StoryWorth.com/meet. You’ll get $10 off your first purchase. Get 3 weeks of EveryPlate meals for only $2.99 per meal by going to EveryPlate.com and entering code meet3. 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/Â
Transcript
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you happy. At Carvana. This podcast contains adult language and content. The
stories in this show can be frightening and disturbing for some. Listener
discretion is advised. If you have a story to share, send it to Let's Not Meet
Stories at gmail.com.
Enjoy the show. … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … I've had a couple of creepy encounters in my life, being that I'm a young woman who
loves to go out at night.
Luckily, I'm a young paranoid woman, so I make sure to stay diligent and watch my back.
This event happened around fall of 2019, so just a little over a year ago. During that time I used
to go out with my best friend and run around the city's downtown area very late at night.
We're both fairly short for reference and don't really dominate the spaces we're in.
So she and I are walking down the empty streets with nothing to do but talk and enjoy
the atmosphere. Then out of the corner of my eye, I notice moving. I turn to look at who
or what it is, and I see a man. He looks to be far enough so that I don't have to worry too much and keep my distance.
My friend is pretty perceptive as well, and picks up on his presence almost immediately.
We look at each other unsure, but continue to keep walking.
At this point, I'm a little paranoid, but I brush it off as nerves.
I figure seeing anyone in the streets at this hour would be
unnerving, so I continue on. The problem becomes apparent once we get to a McDonald's. We go inside,
order food, and sit down in one of the booths. A few minutes pass, and my friend looks over my shoulder, and immediately kicks me in
the leg.
I went, and she kept signalling me to look over my shoulder where she was staring.
I nonchalantly turned my body, and to my horror, I see an older gentleman looking straight at me and her.
He's dressed in some kind of brown track suit with a balding hair pattern and unkempt facial
hair.
He seemed under the influence of something as his head kept bobbing up and down creepily. There was something so unnerving about his stare as well, as if he were undressing us
with his bloodshot eyes.
I still remember freezing up when I realized it had to be the man that we saw earlier,
making my skin crawl with instinctual uneasiness.
We finished quickly after that and left through the door opposite to where he was sitting.
We both recognized the bad feeling he left with us, though both of us just attempted
to brush it off as paranoia.
There was no proof that he was following us, so for a couple of seconds I held on to the idea that perhaps he was just going out for a 1 a.m.
snack.
But as soon as we walked down the steps from the exit, the man in the brown track suit came out.
There was no reason for him to come out the same door.
It was the opposite of where he was sitting,
and there were no cars in the parking lot.
We both looked at each other,
our blood running cold.
That took my friends' wrist,
motioning for us to walk faster.
We sped up our walking pace,
trying to look calm and went to the end of the block.
We kept glancing behind us, noticing his eyes were locking right on us.
My friend and I were looking at each other with panicked faces as this man was nearly a
foot taller than us and had a looming build, the scariest part and stupidest decision on
both of us was when we decided to take an unlit
path behind a convenience store to try and get away. We realized our mistake pretty quickly
as the man picked up pace when he saw where we were headed. He got close enough that I
could notice a metallic object in his hand. At that point, I completely and utterly panicked and broke into a sprint.
My heart beating faster than it ever had before.
My friend got the memo and sprinted as well.
Both of us, essentially, running for our lives.
And I swear, I will never forget what that man yelled as he chased us down that alleyway.
Stop, fuck, stop, I'll make you fucking stop running.
After he spoke, I knew that we couldn't let up until he left us alone.
We eventually saw him slow down to his stop as we reached the quieter suburban area, feeling
more safe.
But our guards not fully down, we slowed our pace.
I remember pulling out my phone and calling my mom instead of an uber, like I had originally
planned for the night.
It was around 2 a.m. by now.
I just couldn't bear the thought of getting into the car
with another stranger. As soon as my mom picked us up, I just started bawling. She was tired,
but instantly recognized that I need help. We waited a little bit, watching intensely
for any sign of the man. We were eventually picked up and kept the ordeal to ourselves,
also choosing not to go through
with any form of report that is not to alarm either of our parents.
I haven't seen him since that day.
Our town is relatively large and COVID hit so I haven't gone out like I used to.
But now I know to carry pepper spray at all times and not to take any chances with strangers
at 2am.
So creepy men in the brown track suit, let's not meet.
About 15 years ago, when I was 22, my best girl and I went out to the bars three or four
nights a week and generally met some interesting people and made new friends.
There were a few bars that we had up more than others, and one in particular, where we
knew the bartender and the manager pretty well.
We went the week of Halloween and each night their staff would dress up in a different
Halloween costume.
This is where we came across Ron.
He was bouncing at this bar and didn't even catch my eye and the slightest as I gave
him my ID to get in.
Up until a few years ago I never looked anyone in the face.
I have to force myself to do it.
My girl and I hung out, drank, danced, and met some people, then we headed up to the
bar to chat with our friend. He asked me what I thought about Ron. I had no idea who
he meant, and he gestured to the bouncer. He was older looking, very muscular, turned
out to be a major gemrat. I was around 22, dressed in black, and skulls and platforms.
I didn't see my type on the outside, but the bartender friend vouched for him and said
he was a really cool guy. He asked if he could give Ron my number, and I figured he would
be okay.
I hear from him the next day and he wants to hang out.
At the time I lived with my uncle and aunt, a pastor and his wife, so he invited me to meet
him at his place, and we would just go have a casual hang somewhere, simple middle of
the day chill.
I get there and his apartment door is wide open, and his much
better looking and married best friend, who's closer to my age, is there. He seems nice
enough, and I didn't feel unsafe as I left the door wide open, and again, my bartender
friend had vouched for him. He mentions that he needs to grab a few office supplies, so the three of us pile into his
douchey car and head to an office supply store.
We go in, and as we walk in, a pretty girl walks by, and he does the head thing and completely
stares at her, like obviously following her with his head.
We aren't together, but I found it to be rude.
So later in the car, I mentioned it. I told him him, hey look, I know we're just hanging out,
but don't disrespect me like that.
Everyone looks, but be less obvious, and don't make me look like an ass in public.
He laughed, and told me that it's hot that I stood up for myself, especially on our first
hangout. We get back to his place,
and we walk inside, and he says, I like that. You're gonna have a ring on your finger by December.
Remember, we met on Halloween week. So anyways, his friend leaves, we get take out, we hang, and drink,
and just talk. Turns out he's from the same tiny town that my parents are from,
which is six hours south of us.
He is a desert storm veteran, which made him more than 20 years older than me,
and he was back in school to finish his degree.
He worked full-time during the week and bounced at night, and on the weekends seemed decent.
He asked about my tattoos. I have a lot of them, and we talked about love of horror and fascination
with true crime and serial killers. He seems interested, but he says that he doesn't know
much about them, so I tell him I'll lend him my encyclopedia of serial killers so he can have a sort of crash course.
Maybe a week later, we hang out again and I bring him the book.
We hang multiple times.
I even sleep there a few times.
One day we're hanging out and day drinking pretty heavily.
He says something to me that felt very much like he was getting way too comfortable, way too fast,
like telling me to do something. I told him not to speak to me that way and turn to walk away
when I felt my head jerk back. He had grabbed me by my hair at the base of my neck.
I grabbed my hand and he tried to laugh it off and apologize, saying he didn't mean
to be that rough and tried to act like it was some sort of for play, but I cut that off
real quick.
I wanted to leave, but I was already very buzzed, so I just sat, and he said he was going
to do some work. I thought
I would just let the buzz wear off, head home, and then never talk to this guy again.
While I'm sitting, and he's working, he suddenly decides to tell me in graphic detail about
his favorite serial killer from the book so far, and why. I think the way he's talking about it, it just seems off. But
again, I'm just waiting for my buzz to go away. He starts working on a sociology assignment
that is studying urban legends and such. He plays videos with horrible, creepy content,
and it's just creeping me out.
I realized later that I felt that way because I didn't feel safe with him.
I asked him to wait until I'm gone to play it loud, or put on headphones, and he laughs
at me.
He tells me, he can't believe I'm such a poser, he says, you have all these tattoos and
skulls, and you are really scared.
You look all goth and punk rock, but you're terrified.
He laughs this really scary laugh.
He's really enjoying that he's creeping me out.
I don't want to drive even mildly buzz, though.
I tell him that his reaction is really scaring me.
I love scary things, but I realize
that this guy is enjoying watching me squirm
in a really sick way, and he loves it.
His face gets completely serious,
and he suddenly tells me that he has his machete
under his mattress.
I look and I see the handle barely sticking out. He tells me he could make me disappear
and nobody would ever find my body. In that moment, my adrenaline hit. I grabbed my bag
and ran to my car. He sort of slowly lumbered behind me, laughing at me, telling me not to leave.
I'm stone cold sober at this point. I guess it was the adrenaline. I start my car and I take off.
About two minutes down the road by the mall, I just park and slow my breathing down.
I call my friend and just unload. For the next week, he texts and calls me.
Over and over, switching between begging me to give him another chance and be raiding
me, calling me a poser, and a fake.
I tell our bartender friend, and he can't believe that Ron did all of those things.
He only works with him a few more times, and they don't talk.
Ron set his sights on someone new, another chick in her early twenties.
Her family owns a Vietnamese restaurant in the same strip as the bar.
Bartender tells us Ron has just started seeing her and she ended up pregnant almost immediately.
Now ask the bar tender to warn her or give her my number.
But I never saw her again.
I hope in prey that she didn't get stuck with Ron, and every time I'm in that area I
pray I don't run into him again.
He can keep the encyclopedia, I just hope he hasn't picked up any tips from it.
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When I was in college, I was stalked by a random 50-year-old stranger who lived in the
same small rural town as my college, but
they did not attend the school.
And I'll begin at the first college football game of the year.
I was an awkward, red-headed saxophone major who played bass drum in the college marching
band.
I was walking back with the rest of the drum line from the parking lot where we played
for the tailgators to stand for the game.
On the way back, this woman with dark brown hair, a hoodie on with the hood up and large
glasses who appeared to be in her fifties, walked up next to me.
She said in the most tired, slurred, low-sounding voice that I had ever heard.
Hi.
Do you know Kelly?
Having met a lot of the parents of the band kids and passing on band trips and concerts,
I assumed she was one of them, and I had just forgotten her name.
So while she had her hoodie on during this hot summer day, and that freaked me out a
little, I wasn't immediately alarmed.
I replied, no, I'm sorry, I don't. She then said while continuing to follow me to the grandstands.
Do you know about the holiday in incident?
I said again that I was sorry, I did not, and thought she may have the wrong person.
She then launched into an entire story about how a man her age was luring girls to his
hotel room at the holiday inn and filming them for pornocytes.
She knew a girl, Kelly, who had brown hair, who was one of them, and she said Kelly was a clarinet
player in the band.
There was no Kelly in the band, let alone a brunette clarinet player.
I told her again I'm sorry and suggested that she contact the police.
When we got back to the stands, she sat a few seats away from where the band was seated, higher up in the stands, just
looking down at me.
She continued to stare me down throughout the entirety of the game, just a hooded figure
with huge, dark sunglasses staring at me, not moving. It was less the glasses and hoodie and more the way that she would
just stare without moving. Her whole body pointed directly at me, just staring. It finally made me
uncomfortable enough that after half time I told the marching band director what was happening.
After half time, I told the marching band director what was happening. He looked up at her and immediately recognized her.
He said just a few days prior, she had come into his office with the same story about a
brunette clarinet player, being involved in what she referred to as a porn ring, and demanded
this girl's information, address, etc.
He obviously refused and ensured her that there was no Kelly that played clarinet, or
even a Kelly at all in the band.
He thanked me for letting him know, and told me to keep an eye on it, and reported if
I felt I needed to.
Over the course of the next few weeks,
I saw her everywhere.
She attended our Fall Jazz Festival.
I was both working at and playing in.
She was at every single football game,
sometimes with this large bald man,
who kind of resembled stone-cold Steve Austin.
She would sit in the same spot in the stands
and stare at me, make out with him aggressively, and then look back to stare at me again almost as if
to see if I saw her making out with this guy. The spookiest part is that by this point she had tried to dye her hair red just like mine
and had begun dressing like me and styling her hair.
The same is mine.
Every time I saw her, she was wearing something similar to something I had worn that week.
She started shopping at Antaylor where I worked and would frequently show up in an item
that I had recently purchased from the store and worn while working.
They didn't hit me at the time, but she had to have been watching me at work, which
was all the way in the neighboring city of Spokane.
She had to be in order to be copying that particular wardrobe, which I only wore
while working. Even then, I still didn't say anything. My boyfriend at the time lived
across the street from the campus music building where a bunch of the music majors lived,
along skinny white house, that we all just called the White House. We all hung out there every night.
Jamming, grilling, and listening to records, I smoked at the time and would frequently
sit on the porch and have a cigarette. That's when I noticed her, sitting in a car, and
the dark on the corner was a hooded figure with dark glasses just watching the house.
Her car was a bright magenta SUV so it was almost comical that she thought she could blend
in.
Or maybe she wanted me to see her and be scared.
Each time I would see her first and her car watching, she would then wait for someone to
walk outside to smoke that wasn't me and would casually walk up and try to start conversation
with them, asking them questions about me.
It took three times of me seeing her standing outside or sitting in her car just watching
the house before I called the police department.
I didn't want to bother them.
I was an idiot.
Still, I had no idea what was happening
or how serious this could be.
I had never met this woman before
that first football game
and was literally the last person
you would ever think would start a porn ring.
The whole thing was just wacky. I called the local very small police department to file a report
and I couldn't get through to a person so I left a message as directed. I told them of the
incidents and said that I didn't want to be a bother, but in case
she escalates, I wanted to have something on file.
I was able to, luckily, provide her name thanks to the marching band director, whom she
had given it to prior to that first football game.
They never called me back.
No one ever returned my call. As marching band season came to a close and winter set in, I saw less of her.
She still attended every concert, but I didn't notice her following me around quite so much.
If I saw something, I would usually record it in case.
But shrug it off as it being a small town. There were a few times that I saw her
very bright magenta car following me out of town, so I started going the back way through
the woods rather than the freeway, but again I still shrugged it off as just being a very
small town. That was until late winter hit.
I was walking across campus towards the music building when I received a call from an
unknown number on my cell phone.
I answered and it was a woman with that same tired, slurry and low sounding voice, saying
that she got my phone number from the local music store where I
worked and was looking for a saxophone teacher for her son.
She didn't ask about rates like most.
She just asked where I teach and if it was at my home and where I lived.
I told her I taught at the music store and she wouldn't take that answer.
She continued.
So do you ever teach at home?
What part of town do you live in? Are you in an apartment or do you live with your family?
I knew it was her trying to get information. I told her I didn't have any openings for new
students at this time, and she began to get aggressive and emotional. She started screaming about how her daughter, at first it was her son, needed these lessons
and that I had to tell her where I lived.
I told her if she called the music store, they could refer her to another teacher and
I hung up.
I walked right to the dean of the music building's office and told him what happened. And that's when it really got crazy.
I told him the story and he immediately contacted campus police
rather than the local police station.
A detective from campus was in the office within 10 minutes.
I was in the middle of telling him the story
when my phone started to ring, non-stop.
It was my mom.
She was really upset.
She said that this woman had shown up at my parents' house in the valley, an hour east
of my college town.
The crazier thing, she had driven there during a massive snowstorm.
She said my step-dead answered the door, thinking it was a tow truck driver, coming
to help pull her car out of the snow. When my stepdad answered the door, he was immediately
suspicious of her, because of the way she had her hands and her pockets and was moving them
around like she may have had a gun. He was retired law enforcement and was hyper-aware of odd behavior.
She began mumbling things and eventually started saying my name.
She asked if I lived there.
This immediately tipped off my stepdad to there being something wrong.
I hadn't lived with my parents since high school.
Their address was unlisted and even, they had completely different last names than
I did.
She started acting erratically and kept moving her hands as if she were about to draw a
gun.
She quickly became more and more emotional raising her voice, saying that she needed to
talk to me, and she knows that I lived there. Her eyes were darting around wildly and she was walking back and forth in circles.
She kept trying to look over his shoulder into the rest of the house.
He told her he was going to call the police to get her help.
At which point she went running down the driveway, turning around to Yale. Your daughter's a porn queen, and I'm going to prove it.
The porn queen must die.
She began pacing around her car, sobbing and screaming back.
The porn queen will die over and over again.
My stepdad, who's an army vet and retired law enforcement
official was terrified.
He immediately called the police as soon as he shut the door.
But keep in mind, this was a totally different city and completely different police department
than the one that I called initially to file a report.
The campus police began to stake out the White House across from the music building that same night
Over the course of the next few weeks, they watched her stalk me around campus
Watch the White House all hours of the night and even go down to the small city center to stake out the bars
During this time several bars called to report a woman looking in the windows yelling about finding the red-headed
girl with the big tattoo on her leg. She went to the music department and tried to disparage
my name to the professors and get them to divulge my address. She sat outside my classes
watching, was seen following me out of town, and sitting outside my places of work.
Luckily, I never had time to go home, so while she was able to find my parents' address
online, she had no idea where I lived.
By this time, the campus police had more than enough to aid me in getting a restraining
order.
As we compiled the information for the hearing, we discovered some very disturbing details.
The first being that the phone call she made to me the day she asked for lessons was made
from a junior high science classroom and a neighboring city of Spokane, where she was
a substitute teacher for the local school district.
In the small town where I went to college, she was a school bus driver for the local elementary school.
All of that is terrifying, but the worst part, her husband was the dispatcher for the police
department in my college town. He was the one who would have received that voicemail that I left
at the beginning with the police, and it would have been his responsibility to follow up.
I arrived at the hearing to see her there with her husband, a tall skinny man with a very
long hair, the opposite of the man she used to bring to the football games.
While it was her turn to speak with the judge, she claimed that she had been at a school reunion
in Seattle that year, where she reunited with an old flame who took her back to his
hotel room when she saw all of his video equipment.
She then claimed that she saw me walking out of the Air Force Base with him that summer.
She just kept yelling, the redhead with the big tattoo on her leg.
Always followed by statements demanding to know where I lived and that I must be stopped.
She went on and on about how she had seen a pop-up online for a pornocyte and I was
the one on the pop-up.
She said this man and myself were to luring girls out of the college marching band and convincing
them to do porn.
We were running a porn ring.
Throughout the course of the hearing, her mental and emotional state continued to devolve.
She began yelling random, unrelated accusations, always bringing it back to the fact that she
needed to know where I lived and that I must be stopped at all costs. The judge quickly granted the restraining order, which gave her even more ammo to find
out where I lived, standing up and screaming at the judge that if she didn't know where
I lived, how would she know where to avoid?
She began to interrupt the judge asking, what about this area?
What about that?
Until the judge finally said,
ma'am, I am no longer going to play Kate,
your attempts at finding this woman's address.
If you see her, turn around and go the other direction,
and that's the last thing I'm going to say about it.
I'll never know why she zeroed in on me
or what truly caused this, but if you can
believe it, this was a condensed version of all that happened in those many months of
her stalking me. It was just the strangest experience. I shuddered to think of all the
times she was sitting outside of my job, the White House, and my classes
staring at me in that hoodie behind those sunglasses, eerily still like she did at the
football game.
Who was the man that she brought to the games?
Why me of all people?
Why did she start dressing like me and die her hair like me?
What was her plan to stop me? And
why did it seem her husband knew what she was up to and was covering up her actions?
Was there ever a guy at that holiday in? What I do know is that there was not a porn
ring being worked out of the music department. And if there ever could have been, I would have
been the last person involved, let alone be the person running it.
And all I can say is, ma'am, let's never meet again. You're already there, hero.
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That's managementconcepts.com. I've been wanting to write to you for some time, but I kept putting it off.
I haven't experienced from about four years ago now that I feel would fit your format
quite well.
For a little backstory, I was 17 years old and at my third job.
I wasn't the greatest at keeping them at the time, much
like most teenagers.
I was working at a subway in the town over from where I lived.
It was usually a pretty decent job, minus the minimum wage, and the somewhat rude customers
you can get at any job that has you dealing with the public.
At this time, I had been working here for about four months and was on evening shift,
meaning I usually worked three to ten pm, four days out of the week, with one other person
and usually a third person would come in for our 4-7 dinner rush.
We had been needing some new people for a while, and our manager, all called Delilah, had
just brought in two guys for their interview to pick up their uniform and sign tax paperwork.
They both looked to be around 20, and seemed like they'd be fine for the job.
Later that week, I met the taller of the two. I'll call him Logan.
He was a quick learner and seemed to actually not
hate the job.
After a while of working there, Logan and I became
really great friends and are still to this day.
The first time I worked with the second boy, I'm going to call Matt, I could tell that something was a little off.
He showed up with his backpack and changed it into his uniform in the bathroom,
which, okay, I get that if you're doing something beforehand, you don't always
feel like trotting around
in your bright green subway t-shirt.
When he came out and came around the counter,
I noticed that both of his forearms had fresh
and healed wounds from self-harm.
Now as someone who is dealt with depression and anxiety
of their own, I can understand those kinds of things.
But I also found it strange that as he worked, he would do things in a way that would be
purposefully trying to draw your attention to them.
I didn't say anything to him because I didn't think that it was my place.
I was 17 and dealing with my own issues, and I had no idea how to help someone else
with their own. After about a week, I was working with another coworker of mine and she
was telling me about how her shifts with Matt were going. She told me that she let Amber
know that she wasn't comfortable working with him anymore. I was confused because I knew he could be a little
weird, but still could make a sandwich and wash dishes. She told me about the things that
Matt had been saying to her. Matt seemed to be a compulsive liar. He would tell some of us
that he lived with his girlfriend, and then the next shift would
tell others that he was homeless.
He told me that he had been in a gang before, and that he had kids with three different
girls.
I would just nod my head and pretend to listen not really interested in hearing his
rambling.
I just wanted my tiny check and to go home.
The last straw with this behavior was when Matt showed up late to one of his shifts.
My coworker I mentioned before asked him why he was late, and he told her,
well, I'm living in my car with my girlfriend, and I found some guy raping her. So I killed him.
Then I came here.
He then changed into his uniform.
I should also mention that he was completely normal looking, and not like he had just left
some bloody crime scene.
He started to do the dishes in the back.
I should mention that at this time we had just switched to using a new knife to cut the sandwiches
so that the flavors wouldn't mix into the other sandwiches.
So all the knives were brand new and very sharp.
My coworker brought him the dirty knife container and told him to be very careful while washing
them so that he didn't accidentally cut himself.
If we cut ourselves with them, they had to be thrown away.
She goes back up bright and waits for a customer, still shocked at the obvious lie he told
her so blatantly, instead of saying, I missed the bus or something like any normal person would say.
After that, she went back to check on the dishes and said that he would accidentally grab the new knives,
she told him to be careful with, and cut his fingers with them, throwing them out, about ten of them.
After she told me the story, I was informed that Delilah or manager had just
called Matt and let him know that he was no longer going to be needed. And to please return
his uniform, we just kind of laughed about it and went on with our day. My coworker left,
and Logan came to finish the night shift with me. It was probably around 830 when the shit really hit the fan.
It was dark outside, so I only saw someone walking towards the store with a hoodie and a backpack on which is pretty normal for the area.
I came back up front when I heard the doorbell go off as someone entered,
and wouldn't you know it? It's Matt. He looked pissed.
I was obviously already nervous knowing how he's acted before and now that he's lost
his job. He takes off his backpack and sets it on the table across from the register
where I'm standing. He starts digging through it angrily and asks,
is Delilah here?
I tell him no, and that she would be here in the morning.
Though in hindsight, I probably shouldn't have.
My finger is itching towards the panic button under the counter
as he's pulling the shirts and apron out of his bag.
I can see part of a large butcher knife in his bag.
I gently asked him what happened, playing dumb since I wasn't supposed to really know
he got fired.
He spat.
She called and fired me earlier so I just need to talk to her.
I'll be back talk to her.
I'll be back in the morning.
He then tossed his stuff onto the counter,
and without a word, zipped up the bag
and headed straight out the door, into the night.
I waited five minutes and called our district manager,
Brian, and told him everything that had happened.
He called the police.
Sadly, I don't know what happened from there.
I know Matt never came back to the store.
None of us work there anymore.
That night, I was actually scared for my safety and was fully ready to go into fight or flight
if Matt had pulled that knife out.
I've never seen Matt again since, and I really hope we never meet again.
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It's happened a few years ago, but I still think about it to this day.
I was on holiday in a city on the other side of the country celebrating my 21st
birthday with my best friend. We were having an amazing night with far too many drinks and we
ended up meeting two guys who all call Andrew and Billy. They seemed like really cool guys and
we were into them so they asked us back to their hotel room and we said yes.
Obviously, a silly idea that we were young and drunk.
Things were great on the way back to the hotel room.
We were all laughing and having a great time.
When we got to the hotel room, there were two other men as well.
I'll call them Ricky and JD.
They were at least 10 to 15 years older than us.
They gave us very creepy vibes, but we brushed it off.
We asked Andrew and Billy who these guys were, and they said that they were colleagues
as they were in the city for work and the company paid for their rooms.
So, Andrew and Billy were in different rooms, but we were all partying in Andrew's room
that he shared with Ricky.
I got a little too drunk, and my friend put me to bed.
She said that she was going to Billy's room and asked if I would be okay with Andrew
and I said yes. Keep in mind, my friend didn't have a phone, so we basically had no way of
getting in contact with each other. Another stupid thing I know. So I had been in the bed for a while
with Andrew just talking and chilling and he says, I have to pop out.
I'll be right back.
I assume he meant just out of the bedroom, not out of the actual hotel room, but he left
the hotel room to get something from Billy's room.
Anyway, I was just watching TV in bed when the bedroom door opens and I assume it was Andrew, let my heart sink
when it was Ricky, the weird colleague. He walked into the room and sat on the bed,
keep in mind, I'm naked at this point trying to cover myself up with the blanket. He
said, you do realize that everyone has left you alone in here, right?
It's just you, all alone. No one is here and no one can hear you.
He continued to edge closer and closer to me on the bed.
At this point, I was completely speechless and absolutely terrified.
I was completely frozen in fear and I had no idea what to do.
I tried to say something, but nothing came out.
He definitely sensed my fear and for some reason he just got up and left. A sense of relief flooded me and it felt silly
overreacting. That was until I heard JD, the other random colleague shout, get the fuck
back in there. What are you doing? This isn't what we discussed. Get the fuck back in there
and do what you were meant to do who gives a fuck about that whore.
Just get back in there and do what you need to do.
I ran to the bathroom and I locked myself in because I was so scared but there was no
way out.
And the only way out of the hotel room was through that front door.
I had to walk past Ricky and JD to get there.
I was terrified.
I had a million thoughts rushing through my head,
and I had no idea what to do, but I knew that I had to escape.
I decided my only option was to just leave the room
and be ready to defend myself at things went bad.
I threw my clothes on, grabbed my shoes,
and opened the door, and rickie and JD were sitting
on the couch close to the bedroom door.
JD said, Hey, sexy, where are you going in such a rush?
Come and join us here right now.
I said, no thanks, and ran for the front door and ripped it open.
When I got out, I was so relieved, but I was still in a random hotel in a random city
with no way to contact my friend, but I thought my best option was to go to the lobby and
just wait.
As I was walking there, I heard two men yelling down the hall.
Where are you?
We know you aren't too far away. Come back, join us. You know you want to."
It was Ricky and JD. I was absolutely terrified by this point. I began sprinting to the elevator.
I could hear them gaining on me. I never knew I could run so fast, but I just continued and didn't look back.
I felt like I was running forever until I reached the end of the corridor and my worst
nightmare had come true.
I missed the turnoff for the elevator.
So I had to turn back and run towards where I hear Ricky and JD still yelling down the
hallway.
I found the elevator and got in. I could hear their voices
getting louder and louder. I didn't want to imagine what would happen if they got
into the elevator with me. The door finally closed after what felt like a lifetime. I
thought that I would go down to the lobby and just wait there because at least there
would be people there, so there would be some
form of safety. I got to the lobby, and I realized there was no one in sight. No one at all,
not even behind the desk. I sat on the couch and didn't know what to do with myself. I was
absolutely terrified that Ricky and JD would come to the lobby.
Then I heard the elevator ding and the door open.
My heart dropped.
It was Andrew.
I told him what had happened.
He was outraged that his colleagues did that and took me to where my best friend was. Everything turned out fine, but it could have been a lot worse.
So Ricky and JD, let's never meet again. I'm a young female and in this story I was about 26 years old.
I love to hike and being outdoors whenever I can, especially when it gets a little chilly
during the fall season.
I usually take my dog with me, because being a female
anywhere by yourself is a risk. That day, I decided that I wanted to take my time and
go on a longer hike, and I knew my chunky pup would not be able to do it. I also usually
carry a go bag with me. As pepper spray, a knife, a whistle, you know the don't fuck with me pack.
I left that at home and accidentally grabbed my other hiking bag.
When I got there, it was mid afternoon and there weren't that many cars around.
And I was excited to be able to walk the trail without children or city people stopping right in the middle
of the trail to watch the leaves fall.
Looking back on that now I realized that it was a huge mistake.
So I set off on my hike, bag and toe, and knew that I wanted to take the extended trail
that went down to the river.
As I started walking, I passed a
young couple. I said hello and kept walking. As I hit the crest of the hill, I could hear
someone walking very fast behind me. I stopped and moved to the side to let this person
ahead of me.
It was a young man wearing street clothes, something that you wouldn't expect someone
to wear on a hiking trail.
I just assumed maybe he was trying to catch up with someone or maybe his girlfriend was
making him hike.
I rushed it off and continued on my way. As I approached the split in trails, I noticed the same man that passed me standing up ahead.
This time moving faster and towards me, being someone who's generally panicked and an
assault survivor that bent down to tie my, and grabbed a large rock, then
picked myself back up.
If this dude was going to try anything, I would go out fighting.
But once again, he just briskly walked by me.
I stayed there for a few minutes, and waited to see if this was some sort of tactic to
surprise me from behind.
But I didn't see him, so I continued on my way.
I was very familiar with this part of the trail since this was usually where my dog needed
to take a rest.
There were a lot of trees to hide behind, and a lot of large rocks with pockets under
an eith where I assumed small animals might live.
As I got to this point, I heard leaves crunching behind me.
I stopped.
And the leaves stopped.
I turned around, and it was the guy.
I knew at this point I was going to need to get the fuck out and hide before he could find me.
I took a deep breath and ran.
I was able to get ahead of him and duck under a large rock.
I sat there as long as I could, heart pounding, trying not to cry.
I started looking for my phone and realized it was in the other bag.
I panicked and I started thinking, how can I be so stupid?
What are you going to do now?
How are you going to get out of this?
I could hear the guy come to a stop after trying to catch up with me, leaves crunching around
the rocks and trees.
I could hear him getting closer.
I started to pray and hope that someone was watching me and was going to help me.
Just as I heard him, get right behind the rock.
I heard two voices yell out, Sam, Sam are you there?
I think we lost you back on the trail.
It was a young couple.
I saw at the beginning of my hike.
I slowly got up from the rock and played along.
Oh, my God, thank God, I thought you had left.
I forgot my phone in the car and couldn't get a hold of you.
Now standing between us was this man staring.
He looked at me, glaring as he put what I could only imagine was a knife back into his
pocket and started walking away.
As he walked over the crest of the hill, I collapsed.
He read about heroes in the paper and these these two people, well they were my heroes.
They noticed that this man was pacing back as soon as I passed them on the trail.
They had a bad feeling and followed me to make sure nothing happened.
I filed a report with a police after that, and nothing came of it.
To the amazing couple that saved my life, I can never thank you enough, and to the man
that tried to attack me on the trail.
Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast.
This week you have heard Creepyman chases us down an alleyway by Amanda Fier.
Did I create a monster by let the light inside?
A story from a listener that asked to remain anonymous. A story from listener, Maria Valkary.
Pro tip. Don't be alone in a hotel room with creepy men who have bad intentions by listener
pizza bubbles. And finally, why you should never hike alone by listener Sarah.
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.
If you'd like to hear your story on the show, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com
and if you want to get access to bonus episodes and other material as well as exclusive merch.
Head over to patreon.com forward slash let's not meet podcast to
support the show today. I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet a True Horror Podcast. 1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc
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1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc 1 tbc sdmdc 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 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 Gagillionaire? Yeah, I have AT&T Fiber. The straightforward pricing has inspired me to be more straightforward.
Me too.
Ugh, this one.
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 HyperGig for details.
you