Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 6x19: Hunter - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: August 9, 2021Stories in this episode: -College Gas Station Stalker - Katie K. -The Pinching Man - Jaee. -The Guy That Needed A Ride - Tyler. -Hunter - Clementine. -Peeping Creeper - Katie. -Guy From The Bea...ch - Dani. Extended Patreon Content: -Creepy SUV Guy - AhriFoxx27. -The Time I Was Nearly Kidnapped - Mighty Quinn. -Reverend Tim - A.V.T. -I Was Almost Murdered At My Front Desk Job (I think) - Lauren. Don't miss the live video broadcast of the season 6 finale! Follow me at twitch.tv/andrewtatelive and join chat on August 21st at 7:00 pm PST! All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors. Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online. To submit your story to the show, send it to letsnotmeetstories@gmail.com. Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Make the switch to PrettyLitter TODAY! Get 20% off your first order by visiting Prettylitter.com and use promo code meet. Get fresh, pre-measured ingredients and mouthwatering seasonal recipes delivered right to your door! Go to HelloFresh.com/lnm14 and use code lnm14 for up to 14 free meals, plus free shipping! Right now, when you purchase a 3-month Babbel subscription, you’ll get an additional 3 months for FREE. That’s 6 months, for the price of 3! Just go to BABBEL.com and use promo code MEET. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - Twitter - https://twitter.com/letsnotmeetcast - Website - https://letsnotmeetpodcast.com - Patreon - https://patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast - Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/letsnotmeetcast/ - Twitch - https://twitch.tv/andrewtateliveÂ
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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 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 and select areas visit
at AT&T.com slash Hypergate for details.
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.
My name is Andrew Tate and this is season six episode nineteen of Let's Not Meet, a true
horror podcast. Hi everyone and welcome. We're closing in on the season 6 finale of Let's Not Meet
in just a couple of weeks. This means that we have a few special episodes on the way.
Next week we will be treated to another Lost Stories collection from the early days of
the show. Then on Saturday, August 21st we'll be doing
another Twitch live stream finale as we've done for the past few seasons. This will be
the biggest one yet, with some of your favorite returning guest readers, like Soren Narnia,
Shelby Scott, Jessica Nicole, Sapphire, Sndalo, and a bunch more. The audio will be available on Sunday
the 22nd as a regular episode, so if you can't make that live stream,
you'll be able to listen to all of the stories whenever you like.
However, if you do plan on joining us for the live video podcast, follow me at twitch.tv
forward slash Andrew Tate Live.
That's a new URL.
It's in the show notes, just in case you forget.
We'll be going live at 7pm Pacific Standard Time on Saturday, August 21st. But for now, enjoy the show.
For a bit of backstory, I was attending Coastal Carolina University in Conway, South Carolina.
It was a quaint, charming, and old southern town, about 10 minutes inland from Myrtle Beach,
a popular eastern U.S. beach vacation destination.
It was my first semester of sophomore year, and I was living in campus housing.
That wasn't quite on campus.
See CCU provided multiple living options for their students, which I loved.
It allowed me to feel more freedom and independence as a college student, rather than being suffocated
by the college lifestyle, living in one of the small cluttered dorms
located on campus property. The dorms that I was staying in, they were just about a quarter
of a mile down the main road from campus. These dorms were located behind a shell gas station
off of the main road. They were apartment-style dorms consisting of four bedrooms.
Every room containing its own private bathroom, a shared kitchen, a shared living room, washer
and dryer, and a balcony.
It was a dream.
I felt like I was finally living the independent, college-girl life, states away from my hometown
in Virginia.
I always felt safe in my complex.
Like I said, it was university housing,
so all around the campus there were white posts with a bright blue light, signaling a call
button that would dial to campus police dispatchers in case of emergencies.
One afternoon, after a long morning of classes, I was starving. I hadn't eaten anything that day, and I was in classes since 8 a.m.
It was around 3.30 or 4 p.m. this particular day that I had left campus.
I usually use my dining card and go to the campus cafeteria to eat lunch, hoping to see
some friends or classmates and hang out for a bit. But I was
just drained that day, and decided to get into my car and just head home.
During the short drive-back, I decided to stop at the Shell gas station that was located
in front of my complex. I was a broke college student, working a part-time position in retail
at a nearby outlet mall, so it was very rare
that I could actually afford to eat out.
But I figured gas station food is cheap, and I'd just get a hot dog and a fountain drink
with the change that I had in my wallet.
I pull into a space directly out in front of the convenience store.
Standing in front of the store, facing me, was a tall, skinny, sketchy-looking
guy. Maybe in his 40s, I remember him vividly. See, my mom was a 911 dispatcher and had always
taught me at a young age about stranger danger and always observing my surroundings. She made
sure that safety was always a priority because I'm young. I'm a female
in a world of creeps and perverts, some disguised as heroes. Some you can just notably tell
that they are weirdos.
So using my handy observational skills, I see he's wearing a New York Yankees bomber-style
jacket, a white t-shirt peaking through a partially
unbuttoned top of a jacket with the black hat. He had those dicky-type of jeans.
His eariness made me a little uncomfortable at first, as he watched me from the very moment
I turned to pull into that parking spot. He continued to watch me as I gathered my wallet, phone, and turned my car keys out of the
ignition to get out of the car.
He watched me walk into the store.
I felt uncomfortable, but I just figured it's some weird old man who's waiting for a ride,
or honestly might not have anywhere else to go.
He was just hanging out in front of a college gas station
to pass the time.
I get my food and drink.
And while I'm waiting in line to check out,
I glance over at the store windows
and he's standing right where he was,
but turned around now, facing me, watching me,
still as I wait in line. What does this guy want?"
I was more irritated at this point now. That old phrase, take a picture, and a last
longer kept running through my head, and I really wanted to confront him, but I didn't
muster up enough courage to do so. So I paid and left the convenience store, then got into my car.
At this point, I see him start to walk left and head towards the back of the store, I'm
thinking, thank God he's leaving.
So I back out of the spot and turned towards my complex.
I have to pass him.
He was walking towards the entrance to my complex. I didn't really think much of it,
I kind of even forgot about the whole situation. I was just ready to get home from an exhausting day
of classes. I wanted to eat and I wanted to pass out. I parked my car in front of my building,
like usual. I gathered my belongings and crossed the street towards
the stairs of my building. I lived on the second floor. As I'm about to step onto the sidewalk
from the street, I hear footsteps to my left, distant but approaching quickly. I sounded heavy,
like this person was moving with purpose and intent. I look up, and to my left, there's the man from the gas station.
He was staring me dead in the eye, with a furrowed brow and a serious expression on his face.
Moving with long strides and a quick pace, right towards me.
For reference, if you've ever seen the hit thriller Get Out by Jordan Peel,
you'll remember the scene where the gardener comes running up on the main character in the
backyard at night. That's exactly what it looked like from my point of view. My fighter flight
response immediately kicks in and I haul ass as fast as I could up those stairs. There seemed to be thousands of steps.
Like I just couldn't get up to the second floor fast enough.
I hear him turn the corner behind me, following me up the stairs, jumping to every other
step to gain close measures.
When I noticed just how close he was, I felt my blood go cold.
I was in such a panic.
I was seriously struggling to find my electronic key to let me into the apartment,
amongst the ridiculous amount of key chains that I had on my lanyard.
I finally grabbed it, shoved it against the detector, on the deadbolt lock and waited to hear
the motors move in my dead bolt into the unlocked position,
which felt like an eternity. I quickly ran inside and slammed the door behind me, locking every lock possible, but I could get my hands on at the time.
Immediately after locking the door, I hear him banging on it. He never said anything.
To me or at me, he just began beating on the door.
To me or at me, he just began beating on the door. I backed away.
I ran to my bed where I pulled out my phone from my backpack and called campus police.
They took a report and said that they would send out campus police to check out the surrounding
buildings.
At this point, the banging on the door had stopped.
So I believe he might have left or might be waiting there. I don't know.
I don't want to find out. After about 30 minutes of waiting, I finally get a knock on my door.
It's campus police announcing themselves. So I feel safe enough to exit my room and look through
the people of my front door, just to make sure that it really is the campus police and not the crazy stalker from the Shell gas station.
Campus police told me that they didn't see anyone fitting my description in the area,
but that they'll keep an eye out and an ear out for sightings or reports of the strange
man.
It made me so fearful, knowing that the guy was still out there, and that he knew where
I lived.
I never saw him again, and eventually the terrifying memory was just a silly thing to laugh
over with my roommates.
Every now and then, I think about this experience and wonder what his real intentions were.
Did he want to kill me?
Did he want money?
What were his plans?
I'm glad I didn't allow myself to become part of them that day.
To the insanely creepy gas station man who made my heart sink into my stomach and fear
for my own safety.
Let's not ever meet again. This happened to me and my friends when we were 10 years old, somewhere around the summer
of 2009.
I haven't told anyone.
My friends have also decided not to tell anyone, but I feel this is worth
it for the podcast. I'm 22 now, and looking back, I feel scared for all the children out there who
almost fall prey to the creeps around. I live in Mumbai, India, and it's a common thing here in the summers for theaters to open and there are numerous
children's plays running. Every summer my friends and I would go watch plays. It was fun
for us because we were able to run around the halls with a lot of the other children
here and there. This was a time when cell phones were still new, so we only really used landlines. Security
cameras weren't very popular back then, so no one really installed them. The theater
used to be filled with kids and their parents, siblings, and grandparents. On some days,
it wasn't too busy. Many of the rows would be empty. Theaters would be half filled.
One Saturday afternoon, we went to see a play,
which wasn't that popular, so the theater was only half full.
After a considerate amount of people arrived, the theater dimmed its lights.
We had taken the balcony tickets for a better view.
The play was in two intervals.
There used to be a ten-minute break for the
intervals. The first part of the play went great, no red flags whatsoever. And the interval break,
my friend and I, who I'll call Rachel, went to get some popcorn and fr, and a coke for everyone. When we came back, there was a man sitting next to
our seats. The first red flag went off when we saw that the rows behind us were empty, but he sat
next to our seats. There was another group of friends sitting four rows behind us, although the
man sitting there didn't really seem odd as the theater had guards, who used
to sit in the shows to ensure that everything was going all right. We assumed maybe he was
one of them. This man must have been in his late 30s, early 40s. We really didn't pay much attention.
The second half of the play started, and Rachel felt a hand on top of her shoulder.
She looked over to me first, because I was sitting next to her, and then looked at the
other side, where the man was sitting.
She then nudged me with her leg and whispered,
Hey, the man has his hand on my shoulder.
She looked very scared and confused.
I looked at the man, and he took his hand off of her.
When he was sure I looked away, he pinched Rachel on her elbow.
She whispered to me again in a scared voice.
He's pinching me now.
Please do something."
I told Rachel, let's change our seats. We then went to sit three rows ahead of where a family was sitting. A mom, her two sons and their father. We thought that the man won't bother us and
we'll feel safe there. The rest of the play went smooth.
After the play was over, I had forgotten about what had happened and went to the parking
lot where we had parked our bicycles.
Just as we were about to leave, we saw that man again.
He had popsicles in his hand.
He came up to us.
He said, I'm asking you again. These are the last few popsicles I have. Do
you want them? Come to my van, I'll give you more." My other friend Nash told him, no thank you,
our parents were waiting outside the theater, and we'll be going with them. The man didn't force this on us much, but he did follow us.
We briskly walked until we were at the front lobby where there were a lot of people.
However, the man was still following us, trying to remain discreet.
Luckily, I saw someone who was my dad's friend.
She was with her daughter there, and we went to her and told her what happened.
She asked me to point to the man.
When we tried to find him, he was gone.
She then took us to the office of the theater and logged to complaint.
Rachel and I told the authorities what had happened.
The authorities then tried to find the man, but he was nowhere
to be found. My dad's friend told us to go straight home and said that she will call my
father and tell him what happened. When my father came to know about this, he filed a complaint
with the police. The police said that they would look into it. A couple of weeks later, we came to find that the police had actually caught this man.
Apparently he used to go to different theaters, and he would poke children with a needle.
Just for fun. He used to pinch little girls too.
After that summer, we were horrified to go to the plays alone.
After that summer, we were horrified to go to the plays alone. We would only go if one of our parents or an elder sibling came with.
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AT&T Fiber presents a straightforward moment.
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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.
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When I first started college,
everything was a new experience.
I had never been away from home.
It was my first time driving or even having a license.
It was my first time drinking.
You get the gist.
I also was never really far from home
since the university I went to was only about 45 minutes away, and I had an overprotective
dad who insisted that I live at home while going to classes. This is pretty important to know,
because I lived a pretty sheltered life. And new experiences also gave me high anxiety.
If you mix this into a fresh college experience, including partying and commuting,
it didn't really mix well. The party itself is an important. But keep in mind,
I told my overprotective dad that I would be home after school, and in my bid for a new
experience, I forgot to tell him where I was going.
So you can imagine how this went.
I had my phone on vibrate, so over the next couple of hours of me having a few drinks and
having a good time, my dad had been calling.
At around 12 a.m., I finally felt a text vibration. It was from my best friend,
who also went to the same university. My dad had apparently decided to start calling him to see
where I was, and he texted me to inform that. This is also when I noticed that my dad had called
20 or so times, but no texts. My phone at the time, it was 2009, was kind of old, and even with the vibrate feature
I usually didn't notice a phone call, and would only notice text messages.
I was panicking pretty hard.
I had had a few drinks, I wasn't feeling all that buzzed, just that relaxed state that
you get after a little bit of alcohol.
I told my classmates I was needing to head home immediately. I told them by and ran out to my car
while calling my dad. He was super mad, yelling at me to get home immediately, and that I should have
told him that I was going to a party after I explained what happened. He also kept questioning me about drinking, but I lied and said that I didn't, and that
I was heading home right then.
I got into my car and sped off.
Now, a few things.
One, I'm really padded directions, and I was pretty reliant on the external GPS.
Even though I lived in the Houston area my entire life,
I lived in a suburban area and hardly left that until college. My phone didn't have this
functionality, but I had Square, a dedicated GPS that could attach to the dashboard of the car.
2. This was Houston, Texas. Freeways here are horrible. They have these intertwining roundabouts
that we're very confusing. Figuring out where to exit is pretty horrible.
And to get back to my home, you had to take one of the roundabout exits that would eventually put me on a direct path there.
In my panic state, I started driving without making sure the GPS was on and eventually after being on the highway,
I cursed and started fumbling to turn it on. It wouldn't. I had no idea where I was going,
and I was so afraid of going the wrong way that I eventually decided to take an exit that led to
another local university area. I figured this is obviously a safe area.
It's just student housing.
It was a Christian university.
I could find a parking lot to stop in
and try to get the GPS working or call my dad
and figure out a way for him to tell me where to go.
After I got to the main road and went through the light,
I had to slam on my brakes.
A guy ran into the middle of the road with his hands out in front of him.
He seemed to be telling me to stop.
He looked to be my age and was wearing traditional fraternity clothing, so I didn't really
see any red flags, but I was still a little anxious.
After stopping, I noticed a girl was on the side of the road, and she came up to stand
with him, on the side of my car, while messing with something in her purse.
He asked me to roll the car window down, but in my anxious and scared state, I only cracked
the window slightly so that I could hear them better,
but not enough for someone to force their hands into it.
In retrospect, this was potentially an idiotic thing to do.
The guy explained,
slurring, so I assumed that he was probably drunk,
that he and his friend were wanting to go to the strip clubs
downtown, but couldn't drive. They wanted me to take them. They said they would be willing
to pay for my gas, pay whatever entry fee there was for me, and would love for me to join
them too. I hesitated in answering, so the guy further went on to explain that if I didn't want to go, he would be willing
to offer me sex as a payment before I drop them off.
The girl sort of rolled her eyes.
The guy shot a dirty look before getting closer to my window and asking me if I'd like
to have sex with him. Now, yes, while I was into guys, I definitely was not vibing with this situation.
I also noticed that he had his hand on the handle of my driver's door, which was making
me even more uncomfortable.
I also noticed the girl was standing close to the driver's side backseat door,
and her arm kept moving like she was filling with something. I think she was trying to open
the door. This was the weirdest situation. I didn't know what to say. I just kept staring
at him. He kept asking me if I wanted to have sex with him. Then he kept asking
if I wanted to have sex with his friend. His friend eventually started saying, let me
in. At this point, everything was silent, and I was literally just staring directly into
his eyes as he put his face directly into my driver's side window and his hands on the
side of his face like he was trying to stare inside and look for something specific.
I didn't know what to do.
I was tempted to just speed off but was afraid that they would be holding onto the door handles
and would try and come with the car and the last thing I wanted was some type of vehicle
assault. I remember saying, uh, then he jumped back and screamed. I call shotgun and let's go
at the top of his lungs. This startled me. He ran around to the front of the car and the girl
started screaming, I call back seat. She threw her hands in the air. Once he got to the front of the car and the girl started screaming. I called back seat.
She threw her hands in the air.
Once he got to the other side of the car, I took advantage of the situation,
of them not holding out of the car, to press the gas and lurch my car forward.
I remember the girl yelping and the guy going,
Hey, wait a fucking second.
Then slamming his fists into the passenger side window.
My anxiety and panic spiked, and I guess the adrenaline decided to run through my body,
and I took this as a sign to just go.
I slammed on the gas and drove the hell out of there.
I looked in my rear view mirror as I was leaving leaving and I noticed that the guy flipped me off,
and the girl was on the ground.
But I also noticed four other people had now come out from the side alley to join them
in the street.
I kept driving until I felt I was far enough away and I didn't feel as panicked.
I looked for a place where I was safe to stop. Thankfully, I found a gas station.
So I stopped and called my dad and asked if he could help direct me home using MapQuest,
and the gas station has a starting point since my GPS wasn't working, and I was lost.
I didn't tell him about the situation that had just happened. I only told him the street name and
the name of the gas station and that I just wanted
to get home as soon as humanly possible. I never stayed out that late in Houston again.
So to the guy and girl who needed a ride to the strip club, and apparently there are four friends
who God knows what they would have done if they would have gotten into my car. Let's never meet again.
AT&T Fiber presents A Straight Forward 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.
Straightforward 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 better one.
Straight forward is better.
No equipment fees, no data caps, no price increase at 12 months.
Live like a Giga-Gillionaire with AT&T Fiber,
limited availability in select areas,
visit ATT.com slash Hypergate for details.
For the longest time while listening to this podcast,
I didn't think that I had a story to share.
However, it wasn't until I was decluttering my bedroom, that I had found my
old guitar and remembered something that had happened to me when I was 11 years old.
I had just finished primary school and was just a few months away from starting secondary school.
I was a shy kid who spent most of her time just binging episodes of Dr. Who and writing short stories. While I enjoyed
these hobbies, my mom thought that it would be good for me to start a new hobby, as I was starting
fresh at a new school. So after discovering that a kid in my class's mom, I'll call the kid Hunter,
was an excellent guitar teacher, my mom spoke with her, and they decided that she would teach me guitar, and that my lessons
would begin the summer before school started.
Now, I loved those lessons.
I loved that she would give me chocolate milk before each session.
I loved that I could talk to her so easily about my concerns and about my social life at
school.
What I didn't love was her son Hunter. Hunter was in my class,
and I'd only known him for two years as I had moved to this school just two years prior. We
didn't speak much. We got along for the most part, though. The only times we really interacted prior
to the guitar lessons were through our mutual friends, or whenever we may have been put on the same group for a project.
I didn't think that he was a bad guy. That was until I started my guitar lessons. Whenever I was
over, I didn't directly have any issue with him, but what did disturb me was how he interacted
with my guitar teacher. He'd swear at her when she asked him to do something,
or just poke fun at something that he had done.
He'd laugh at her when she had told him how he had heard her feelings
over a comet that he had made.
He would also flip her off as he walked past the room when we were playing.
Reminder, this isn't a 11-year-old
kid. Although it made me a little uncomfortable and disgusted, as I could never imagine speaking
to my own mother that way, I figured that was just how their relationship was. Not something
I agreed with, but something that wasn't my business. That most, my opinion of him had gone from indifferent to disliking him.
However, a few months later, my dislike quickly turned to fear.
It was around May that we lost contact with my guitar teacher.
By this point, we had quite a regular routine.
My mother would call the day before my lesson to confirm my time for me to go
over to the house after school, just so we could give each other time to prepare after finishing
work in school. But one day she didn't pick up or call back. It was weird. My mom then called
again the next day, thinking that she must have just been busy at work and was too
tired to return calls, but again no answer and no return calls.
We became slightly concerned, but my mother figured that she must have still been busy at
work or dealing with some personal stuff and that's why she hadn't been answering.
I asked about going to her home anyway and knocking on her door, but my mother decided
against it as she felt that that would be rude to go to her home uninvited, and since she hadn't returned our calls,
we figured that she just wanted her space and that she'd call us in a few days.
So we left it alone, and decided that we would try contacting her again in a few days
if we didn't hear from her. At the time, I was somewhat relieved
to not be going as I hadn't practiced as much as I should have.
A few days had passed, while I was playing in a friend's house, my mother bumped into
one of my guitar teacher's friends, slash neighbors. She and my mother had spoken the times
that she had joined us for dinner with my guitar teacher
after my lessons had run late.
We knew her, but not well enough to have her contact details.
If we had, maybe we would have called her when my guitar teacher had stopped responding.
When they bumped into each other, my mother had asked her how my teacher was and if she
had heard from her.
That's when my mother learned the truth about what had been going on at my guitar teacher's
home for three days.
One night, my teacher finally had had enough of Hunter's verbal abuse and called him out
on his behavior.
That's when Hunter went into the kitchen and returned with a kitchen knife.
He then locked the doors and began his three-day imprisonment of his own mother.
He told her that she wasn't allowed to use the phone, go outside, or use the internet.
She had to do whatever it was that he wanted, and she wasn't allowed to leave his sight
or else he would stab her.
I'm a little fuzzy on the details as it has been over 10 years, but on the third day
he apparently slipped up and left her alone.
As soon as he did that, she called the neighbor and asked for help and explained the situation
to her.
The neighbor then called the police and they broke down the door and rescued my teacher.
She told them all of what had happened, and she was taken away by the police.
She then stayed with the neighbor.
Once the neighbor finished her story, my mother took her contact details so that if anything
like this happened again, we could contact someone close to her.
After that, she collected me from my friend's house and told
me everything. I was in complete shock, hearing that Hunter was capable of doing that, and sad that
my teacher was forced into that situation. It sickened me then, and it sickened me now.
To know what was going on while we were trying to contact her. How could her own son do that to her?
contact her. How could her own son do that to her? This is where I'd write Let's Not Meet. But the story unfortunately doesn't end here.
A few more months had passed, and my mother continued to contact my teacher despite my lessons
being on pause, which I didn't mind considering the circumstances, and I had begun getting
interested in some other hobbies.
She told my mother about how Hunter had been sent away for a little bit. She didn't
say where to or what he was doing, but I have a pretty good guess of where he went.
One day my teacher invited me, my mother, and my neighbor over, along with the neighbor's son, for dinner, as Hunter was returning home,
and she wanted to celebrate it. My mother hesitated, but she accepted the invitation.
I know it sounds like it was a bad idea to go back, and again in hindsight it was.
But from my mother's perspective, she figured that if he was coming home,
he must have made progress, and we didn't want to make my teacher feel bad, especially after all she had gone through,
and all that she had done for me. As we walked to my teacher's home, my mother told me that we
would only be staying for an hour or so while I was there. I was not ever to be alone with Hunter. I told her
okay. And then we arrived at her home. At first the dinner was awkward as we didn't know
how to behave around Hunter or my teacher, but eventually everything slipped back in
an oralcy minus the verbal abuse from her son. The adults laughed and drank. The kids ate
and laughed with them. Eventually
I left the table to use the bathroom, and once I had finished in there, I stepped into
the living room where my teachers get tar set. Since the dinner was pretty much over,
and the kids were walking about, I decided to sit down and play with the strings for a
few minutes, and once I was done with that, I went to lie on the cozy chair which sat by the balcony. It was getting late, and I felt like closing
my eyes for a few minutes. When I opened them again, almost as if Hunter was Michael Myers,
he appeared in front of me with a smile on his face. I was startled, but I smiled back, my eyes immediately
darting for an exit to get away from him, but he had me trapped. He was tall for his age,
and I was small for mine. I was lying back and vulnerable. While he towered above me,
I slowly began to sit up and asked him what was up, while
still praying an adult would come into the room.
I don't remember much of what was said as a lot of it was just a small talk, but when
I do remember is the way my heart thudded in my chest when I saw him produce a lighter
from his pocket.
I watched as he clicked it, and an orange flame appeared at his command.
Another sinister smile appeared on his face, and he began laughing as he told me that he
could light me on fire as I lay there.
I eyes darted between the lighter and the door that seemed so far away.
I didn't know if he was serious or not, but that scared
me. If he pulled out a knife on his own mother, what morals would stop him from lighting
me up? I wanted to cry and call from my mom, but I just froze and chose to use my words
carefully while trying to hold back tears as I watched the orange flame dance.
I forced another smile and then asked him if he had heard a rumor about a kid from my
primary school.
He said no, and on the spot I made up a story.
This distracted him, and he put the lighter down and then sat down in the chair next to
me to listen.
Once the story was over, I told him I was going to use the bathroom and hid in there basically
until my mom told me it was time to go. Something I gladly did. On the way home, I ended up telling her
what had happened, and from that point onwards, I was banned from going back to their home.
that point onwards, I was banned from going back to their home. My classes were done, our relationship with them was done, and I barely touched a guitar
again after that.
My family couldn't afford to pay for another teacher, and there was no way I was ever
returning to that house, so my mother's aspirations for a new hobby for me disappeared.
It's been years since that incident, and I'm now 22.
We never went back to that house again, and I haven't seen or heard from Hunter since
then either.
The last I heard about him was that he was sent off again to live somewhere else, months
after the lighter incident.
Something, although very sad, I hope has helped my teacher to live a little more of a peaceful life.
And although what he did was horrible, I truly hope that Hunter has gotten the help that he needs,
and that 11 years later he has become a much more adjusted adult.
However, I still hope that we never meet again.
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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 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 Hypergate for details.
This story happened to my mom when she was just 18 years old. In 1980, my parents married
right out of high school. Well, after my mom graduated. They had my oldest brother shortly thereafter.
My dad was in the Navy and got stationed in Virginia, so my
parents and my then infant brother made the cross-country trek from Southern California
to Virginia in my dad's pickup truck. Once there, they moved into a first floor apartment
located off of the naval base and not in the safest of neighborhoods. It was off of the base, but was still mostly occupied
by military families. One night while my dad was on duty and my mom was at home writing a letter
to her sister, while my brother slept in the other room. My mother had the window slightly open
behind the TV. While she was writing, she heard something rustling outside of the window behind the TV. While she was writing, she heard something rustling outside
of the window behind the TV. Without getting up, she looked out the window and didn't
see anyone. That is, until they smiled at her. All she saw was the white of their teeth from the shadows.
My mom actually lunged towards the window, yelling at them to get away.
The person was so bold as to laugh at her before running off.
Panicked and alone with an infant, my mom poked her head out the front door to call for help. An older
man from upstairs ran down to see what was going on. She told him what had happened, and
with my mom's permission the man scooped up my brother, and ran back upstairs to his
apartment to call the police. This allowed my mom to get some things sorted out. My
mom gave the police a description of the man, which was vague, considering she only
saw this person's teeth, and they proceeded to tell her that they've had multiple complaints
of a man peeping into windows in the area.
They casually proceeded to tell her that the man is likely harmless, and there's nothing
to worry about.
Right.
Even though the policemen were nonchalant about the situation, my mom was now too freaked
out to stay at the apartment alone overnight.
So she took up a babysitting gig at a friend's house, and she and my brother would stay over
their most nights while my dad was away.
Finally one night, my mom decided that she needed to toughen up and
go back to their own apartment. So she did. A few days later, she and my brother had come
back from the grocery store at night. As they had gotten out of the truck and were walking
towards the apartment building, my mom quickly realized that the man who was peeping at her was now attempting
to remove the screen and climb into her front window. Without hesitation, they got right back
into the truck and took off. My mom decided to stay at her friend's house from then on.
Luckily, a duplex right across the street
from that friend's house came up for rent and my parents and brother moved in. They lived
there for the remainder of their time in Virginia. My mom eventually had to go back to that sketchy
apartment complex to collect their deposit, though. While she was in the leasing office,
my mom started chatting with another woman who happened
to be moving out.
The woman began to tell my mom that she was moving out because there was a woman on the
floor above her who had been stabbed.
Apparently, the woman who was moving out said that a man dressed as a maintenance man
had come to her door asking for his screwdriver
because he had left his in his truck and he needed to fix something upstairs.
She thought nothing of it and let him borrow it.
Come to find out the maintenance man went upstairs and assaulted and stabbed a woman to death
in her apartment.
He stabbed her with the screwdriver.
The police had told them that this man had been peeping and stalking women
to know when they'd be alone in their apartment while their husbands were likely away on duty.
I'm not sure if they caught that man, but my mom is certain that he was the
same man trying to climb into her apartment that night. Needless to say, my mom says she
still has an uneasy feeling when the window is left open in the house. To the guy creeping
around apartments and possibly killing women, let's not meet.
A few years ago, my family went on a mini vacation to Ocean City.
We don't live far from there, so we do it often. My mother, grandmother, brother, sister-in-law, and their two children, as well as my two children.
At this time, our kids were between the ages of two in six. This was about seven years ago.
Now, Ocean City has a long boardwalk, and there are rides at the end of it, known as the Inlet.
That's where we went to have some family fun.
There are these bracelets that you can purchase which give you unlimited rides, as many of the rides as you want, as many times as you want.
Remember this. About mid afternoon, my family and I were sitting on a bench just taking some time to chill
for a minute before the kids were ready for more.
My daughter, five years old, had just played a game and she won.
She was standing next to me with her new toy.
Picture this.
I was sitting on the bench and she was standing, facing me playing with her toy on the
bench.
Now I looked to the other side of me to ask my grandmother what she wanted to do for dinner
that evening.
And a matter of five seconds I heard my daughter say, leave me alone.
I felt her lean against my arm. I immediately looked
over and I saw this man that had been sitting at the end of the bench with dark hair, tan
skin, bad vibes, leaning over as if he were saying something to my daughter. I looked
at him and pulled my daughter to the other side of me. My fighter flight just kicked in and we stood up, looked at him, and left that area.
Now regardless of what he said, he had no business, being in my child's personal space
like that.
She felt uncomfortable, and my job was to end that.
Fast forward about an hour, where outside and the kids are enjoying the rides.
My sister-in-law and I saw this same guy in passing about five times that afternoon.
He never got that close again, though.
We did notice that he was wearing a bracelet for the rides, and was never with anyone else.
No kids, no friends, just him.
We just made it a point to always go in the opposite direction.
I never had an issue with him the rest of our time there. But days later, my sister-in-law called me over to look through pictures that she had developed.
She had already seen it. This was about seven years ago when thinking about this photo still gives me chills.
The picture was our two daughters on the carousel, huge smiles on their faces.
But if you look maybe twenty feet behind them, there was the man sitting with this look
on his face staring at our girls.
We sent the picture to the Ocean City Police Department and told them about our experience
with him.
It could have been nothing, but I would not be able to live with myself if I had not
said anything to them, and this guy go after someone else's kid.
Honestly, in this world you never know, but to the man at Ocean City, let's never
meet again.
Don't forget if you're a patron, stick around after the music for your extended bonus section
of this week's episode.
Thank you so much for listening.
This week you have heard, College Gas Station, Stalker by Katie K, The Pinching Man by
Jai.
The guy that needed a ride by Tyler Hunter by Clementine.
The Peeping Creeper by Katie M. And finally, Guy from the
Beach Let's Not Meet by Danny. All of the stories you've heard this week were
narrated and produced with the permission of the respective authors. Let's not
meet. A true horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message
boards online. And if you have a story to share, make sure you send it to Let's
Not Meet Stories
at gmail.com.
If you want to sign up for the Patreon
for that extended bonus section,
head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet
podcast or follow the link in the show notes.
And don't forget, on August 21st,
Saturday at 7 p.m.
to set up extended time, we're doing that live stream episode.
People are gonna have like my inner 10 guests on the show,
assuming everybody confirms some still waiting on a yes or no,
from a few of the guests, but it's gonna be our biggest show ever,
like I said, I'm really excited.
And again, if you can't make that live stream episode,
the audio will be available the following day
as a regular episode.
And I don't take any breaks between seasons.
These season finales are just an excuse for me
to do something special like this.
So, you don't have to worry about missing out on any Let's Not Meet.
Anyway, just one more announcement.
Before I let you go, I will be doing some longer episodes of Let's Not Meet in Season 7.
I don't know if this is going to be every single week, because I do have a lot coming up.
My co-host is coming back to the state's I believe next week for odd trails so we're going to be getting started
on that real soon. I'm very excited but you know when I do have some extra
time I'm hoping to put out some longer episodes in season seven and just more
material for you guys to consume. We have a lot of stories to get through.
Don't forget to send in your stories if you do want to hear them on show.
Anyways I'll see you guys next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet, a true horror podcast.
Stay safe! I would like to apologize in advance, English isn't my first language.
I live in Canada and the story happened, and the big city next to my hometown.
I'd like to apologize in advance. English isn't my first language.