Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 9x07: Frank - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: September 19, 2022Stories in this episode: - Campin' in the Rain, by Doc Trauma (0:52) - He Had a Cult, by ToddyBoy331 (16:32) - Bicycle Man, by greenbubbles97 (23:09) - A Series of Unfortunate Events, by Anon (31...:22) - Frank, by Ben (42:43) Extended Patreon Content: - The Halloween Man, by Rose - Family Terror, by Anon - Service Stalker, by 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 submit your story to the show, send it to letsnotmeetstories@gmail.com. Â Get access to extended, ad-free episodes of Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast with bonus stories every week at a higher bitrate along with a bunch of other great exclusive material and merch at patreon.com/letsnotmeetpodcast. This podcast would not be possible to continue at this rate without the help of the support of the legendary LNM Patrons. Come join the family! Don't forget to check out this week's episode of my other podcast Odd Trails for your true paranormal fix as well as the first episode of my new podcast the Old Time Radiocast all at crypticcountypodcasts.com. Collaborate with Canva for Teams! Right now, you can get a FREE 45-day extended trial when you go to Canva.me/meet. This podcast is sponsored by BetterHelp and my listeners get 10% off their first month at betterhelp.com/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/crypticcounty Â
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This podcast contains adult language and content.
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 nine, episode 7 of Let's Not Meet the True Horror Podcast. This happened in February of 2012 hearing Texas. This was a pretty turbulent time in my
life as my marriage was falling apart, and I was in paramedic school doing clinical rotations
and working full-time as a tech and a local trauma center. At this point in time, I had been
out of the military for a couple of years and had also
worked on the streets as an EMT, so I was used to being in odd, dangerous, and sometimes
funny situations.
I could handle myself fairly well.
I was at work in the ER for the day shift when I received a text from my now, thankfully,
ex-wife.
She and some of her friends would be staying in the city
for the night and would be back at some point the next day. I was ecstatic at the news,
since, as I said, we had not been getting along, and some private time, and our little
apartment, with a little booze and bad TV sounded, heavenly. Also, I had neither school
the next day because it was Saturday Saturday nor was I signed up for a
rotation.
I could tie one on a bit, stay up late, and sleep in with the dog.
About halfway through my shift, my charge nurse found me and told me that she was cutting
staff since the ER was almost vacant and asked if I wanted to punch out early.
Onus. As I was getting my stuff together to haul ass out of the building before she could
change her mind, I started thinking about going camping for the night instead. This was
Texas, so even in February, it wasn't super cold and hunting season was over. That meant
I could literally camp anywhere in the National Forest instead of driving up to a
campground. I texted my wife before I left work and I told her the plan and promised to run by the
apartment to feed the dog and let her out. I was only going to be in the woods for about 12 hours
total, but it would be absolutely worth it. The forest has always had this calming effect on me, and getting out
even for just a few hours still puts me in a good place mentally. So I made the 45 minute
drive home in about 40 minutes. I was excited. I went through the usual motions of getting
my shitsu food and water and taking her for a walk.
I was only going to be in the woods for a shade over 12 hours.
I decided to pack light.
The forecast was clear, I opted to bring only a tarp for shelter in an old military poncho.
After stuffing that in my pack with some food for dinner, a few beers to cool in the creek, and some of their odds and ends, I was ready. As I was leaving, I looked for the last piece of gear
that I was going to bring. My pistol. Growing up, we never went into the woods without some sort of
fire arm for protection. In Texas, we have mountain lions, snakes, and bobcats. But we have a serious, feral hog problem. Working in the ER and on the
ambulance, I've seen what a moderate-sized hog can do to a person if it charges them. Also, you
wouldn't believe how many national parks or forests attract unsavory critters of the two-legged
variety. Very near the area that I planned to hike, some
grow operations had been found as well as some fulks run out of their campsite in the middle
of the night. I looked in the spot that I usually kept my gun, but it was gone. Texting
the now-X, she admitted that she had pondered so that she could have some booze and food money.
Can you tell why we're happily divorced?
In light of the recent development, I stuck a sheath knife into my pack and took off
after saying goodbye to the furball.
I drove an hour and a half from the south side of Houston to the National Forest.
The part of the forest I would be camping in was a cool piece of land, hemmed in by a
massive lake to the east, a farm road to the south, and a forest service running southwest
to northeast, ending at another FSR and developed campground at the northern tip of the lake.
Meandering through this patch of wilderness is a four-mile long section of 96-mile hiking
trails that run through the entire National Forest.
This section runs roughly south to north.
It has a trailhead at the southern end right off the farm road.
Along this trail there are many switchbacks, seasonal streams to cross bridges and downed
trees.
The terrain is rolling with a few small hills.
I parked my car at the section's trailhead, grabbed my stuff and took off.
The air was brisk and the birds and the other animals were doing their thing. I had been hiking for about two hours, just taking my time and enjoying the afternoon.
I hadn't seen a single person, but I did manage to see a white tail deer and the occasional squirrel.
As I walked, the sky became more overcast and the temperature began to drop.
Lost in thought, I walked right off of the trail and into the developed campground.
I refilled my water and used the restroom then headed back down the trail, about a mile,
and headed west off the trail for about a quarter of a mile until I found this spot, along
the seasonal creek that was running full, and had an abundance of downed wood.
The sun was beginning to set, so I set out compiling a sizeable pile of firewood and
setting up the tarp shelter.
Now I hadn't brought an inflatable mattress or hammock as honestly we were broke at the
time.
Besides, I had slept on the ground enough,
and there were plenty of pine needles on the ground for a decently comfy bed. I got a
fire started then put on my headlamp and dropped my beers into the creek to chill.
Dinner was simple, then it said sausage, cooked over a fire, and freezing cold beer. As the
night deepened, I lit my pipe and settled in
for a book by the campfire. After some time and a couple of beers, I decided to hit the sack.
I wrapped up in one of my wool blankets and knocked out.
I awoke an hour later, wet and shivering. Rain was pouring down and the temperature was close to freezing.
My tarp shelter, improperly put up and positioned, was leaking terribly. Blankets and clothes
soaked, I decided my predicament sucked, and with no spare clothes, I was going home.
I rolled out of my knot so shelter and stuffed my soaked everything into my bag.
At this point, I had a decision to make, walk the three miles or so back along the trail
in the dark, or cruise up the trail to the campsite and the road.
Not wanting to bust an ankle while I was also wet and in freezing temperatures in the middle of the woods with no cell service, I elected when I thought was the less dangerous path. I
opted for the blacktop back to my car. I made my way back to the hiking trail and took
off north. Within 20 minutes or so, I was plotting through the developed campground and onto the blacktop of the FSR.
By the time I hit the road going south, the rain had stopped and the wind stilled.
I had put my headlamp on facing forward and was using my small handheld pointed behind
me in an attempt not to become roadkill.
I had been walking south through the chill, listening to the steady drip of the droplets
falling from the canopy when I saw headlights ahead.
I kept walking and the car slowed as it passed, but then stopped.
I saw the reverse lights light up the road ahead of me, and the car pulled back alongside.
It was a red crossover newer model, with the clean cut guy driving. He
rolled the window down as I stopped and sat there staring at me. He smiled. We stayed
like that long enough for it to be awkward until I finally broke the silence myself. Howdy, I said. Silence.
I then asked, can I help you, man?
Still grinning, he asks.
Are you happy?
It was a genuine question with emphasis on the word happy.
Forplexed, I said, yeah, I mean, I guess how are you?
His eyes didn't leave mine.
Sure, is cold and wet out there?" he said.
Yes, sir. I was going camping tonight, but my shelter leaked. I got a bit wet, figured
I'd head home. His smile got broader. Well, I'd be happy to give you a ride.
Where are you parked?
This guy was really creeping me out, stranger in the middle of the woods, in the middle of
the night.
No thanks.
That's how horror movies start, and I end up being a skin suit for Buffalo Bill.
No thank you, sir.
I'm parked right up the road. I'll be at my vehicle in a few bill. Uh, no thank you, sir. I'm parked right up the road.
I'll be at my vehicle in a few minutes.
Is Grand Faultard for a second?
Are you sure?
It's pretty wet and cold.
Just hop in.
Again, no thanks.
I'm fine.
I'll be at my car in a few minutes.
Well, where did you park?
I didn't see your car back there. It's there. You probably
just missed it. His mood changed completely. I think you should let me drive you.
At this point, I was done with this creep. I was cold, wet, and tired. I wanted coffee
in another cigarette and some heat. I really appreciate it, sir, but I and tired. I wanted coffee and another cigarette and some heat.
I really appreciate it, sir, but I'm good.
Get in the car," he said.
No, I replied.
Get in the car," he said more forcefully.
Not happening, dude, but have a good night.
He finally screamed.
Get in the car!"
My right hand strayed to my hip.
You guessed it.
My sidearm was sitting in a pawn shop a hundred miles away.
"'Dude, you need to fuck off,' I said.
He then screamed again.
Get in the car now!'
"'Dude, you need to leave now. I'm not Get in the car now."
Dude, you need to leave now. I'm not getting in your car. I shifted my weight to my right leg, stepping back, reaching for my pocket knife, but hoping that he would think I was reaching for
a pistol. He noticed my shift and stance, and visibly calmed. His grin came back.
and visibly calmed. His grin came back. I'll see you around. You can bet on it," he said.
I said nothing as he drove off. As soon as he was around the bend from the road,
I shut off both my lights. It was seriously dark, but I could tell when the road was underfoot.
dark, but I could tell when the road was underfoot. I began hiking down the road in earnest now, taking a look back and checking my rear every five or six steps. After a few minutes,
I saw the tail-tailed shine of headlights bouncing off the foliage to the north. I immediately
cut to my left and jumped off of the road and into some trees near the shoulder.
Not thirty seconds later, that red SUV passed by my position, driving about ten miles per hour.
His windows were tinted, but you could tell he was looking for something. Probably me.
As soon as he was out of sight, I was back on the road, hoafing
it, south again. We played this game four more times until I reached the farm road. I would
see headlights or the reflection of them off of trees and brush that I would jump into
the trees and watch as he'd drive by slowly. A half hour after reaching the farm road, I was back in my car and shagging ass out of
there.
I'm not sure what would have happened if I had gotten into that guy's car.
Check that, I'm pretty sure I know what would have happened.
To the guy in the woods who tried to get me into his car, to take me to God knows where
to do God knows what to me.
Let's not meet again.
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government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification to
individualize coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business
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this measurably better. Learn more at managementconcepts.com. That's managementconcepts.com.
When I was 19, I first moved out of my parents' house. I had gotten a job at the University
of Delaware working in one of the dishrooms. My roommates were a 30-year-old woman named
Ashley and her 28-year-old boyfriend, Jeremy. Ashley and I signed the lease
together. Jeremy claimed his credit was too bad to apply for an
apartment. Ashley had to work two jobs, one at the university and another doing a
late shift at Wendy's, leaving me home alone with Jeremy after my shifts.
Things were normally chill between us.
We would smoke a blunt together, watch horror movies, and even sit outside on the balcony
and look at the stars.
I'll admit, I started to develop a crush on him, but I knew that he wasn't gay.
One thing about Jeremy was that he loved to drink.
He wasn't an angry drunk.
He was a goofy type of drunk.
He would dance around the apartment in his boxers, singing songs that he made up or changed
the lyrics to.
I'll admit, I enjoyed the show.
One night, Jeremy came into my bedroom
after a night of drinking with his cousin.
He sat on the edge of the bed,
and we started chatting about things in our lives
that we wish we could change.
He kept referring to something that he called the accident,
but he wouldn't tell me what it was.
I looked away at my bedroom window, and
when I turned my head back, Jeremy pressed his lips against mine. I knew that it was
wrong, but I kissed him back. Our clothes ended up on the floor, and you can guess what happened
next. The following morning, I couldn't even look
Ashley in the eyes, because I was filled with so much regret about what happened between Jeremy and I.
She left for work and Jeremy didn't say a word to me before he walked out the door with
a backpack flung across his shoulder.
He would often leave at random times during the week with that same backpack and disappear
until it
was time for my shift at work.
I never really thought about questioning him about it.
I began cleaning the apartment since it was my turn and my day off.
I was wiping down the coffee table when I noticed there was a stack of important looking
papers on the floor.
I picked them up and curiosity got the better of me
when I noticed Jeremy's name at the top of some of them. My stomach began to hurt.
As I glanced at court documents containing the words sexual assault and minor,
they told me that Jeremy was guilty of sexually assaulting not one but two underage boys, one
of whom was left in his care for a weekend.
I dropped the papers and ran into the bathroom wretching over the toilet.
I slept with this monster.
Ashley was sleeping with this monster.
I needed to get out of that apartment.
Ashley came home and oddly, Jeremy had not.
I sat her down in the living room and allowed her to read over the documents.
She appeared unfazed.
Her expression never changed and it didn't really seem like she was actually reading the
papers.
What do you want me to do about this?" she questioned, which really shocked me.
I told her that we need to kick Jeremy out of the house, especially since she had two
young children from a prior relationship that visited once a month.
The documents clearly stated that he wasn't allowed near children.
She was putting her son and daughter at risk.
What Jeremy does in his free time is his business, she said.
I looked at her, and then it finally dawned on me why she wasn't in shock. She knew. She
fucking knew that he was a sex offender. I rose up from the couch,
and hurried into my room where I began packing my shit to get out of there that night.
She stood in the doorway asking me over and over again if I was going to call the police.
And something in my mind started shooting off flares and swinging around red flags.
I turned to her and asked her.
Ashley, where is Jeremy?
She ran her fingers through her hair and giggled.
I asked her once more, and she finally opened her mouth to say, looking for his next cocky-bine.
My stomach was in knots again. I packed my bag and I got the fuck out of that apartment.
As I sat in front of my friend's laptop, we chatted. I remembered that Ashley mentioned
meeting Jeremy on a Discord group, and I knew her password
because I had used her Discord so that I could host a movie night.
I logged into her account and clicked on the group.
The first thing that I saw when the welcome page loaded were new pictures of Jeremy,
and I'm not even going to mention some of the other things that I saw.
I was scared to look anymore, but I found even more evidence
of child pornography in the server.
I called 911, and a police officer eventually showed up,
and I showed him the Discord group.
A month later, I managed to get out of the lease
and moved in with my best friend.
Ashley and Jeremy, along with several other adults, were revealed to have kidnapped and
assaulted several young boys.
I caution anyone to really get to know someone before moving in with them. I'm not sure whatever became of the two and their cult of sex offenders,
but Ashley and Jeremy, let's never meet again. This story takes place back in 2007 when I was eight or nine years old and takes place
in Galveston, Texas.
I'm a 24-year-old female, so this happened around 16 years ago.
My entire family, grandma, grandpa, mom, stepdad, aunt, uncle, all of us.
We had taken a trip to Galveston to do some AC work on a flood damaged house that belonged
to a friend of my grandpa.
For reference, my grandpa owned an air conditioning company in the DFW area
that my uncle worked for, and my aunt and grandma frequently went out as well as the extra
hands. We had been there for about two days, and it being summer, it was hot and humid.
I was 8 very, very bored. I was sitting outside as I had been during the past few days and this man in a pickup truck,
which had a lot of bicycles in the bed pulled up. The man puts the truck in park gets out then
proceeds to look at me as he walks up and into the house. About 10 minutes past, and he starts to
come back outside having a conversation with my grandpa along the way. They walk over close to
where me and my mom are having a conversation. More so her listening to me complain,
I'm complaining about how I'm so bored, and I want to go swimming.
The man hearing this asks, do you know how to ride a bike?
I very enthusiastically tell him that I do in fact know how to ride a bike, and that I
love riding one that I have at home.
He smiles and pulls a child-sized bike out of the bed of his truck and sets it down
in front of me.
I smile and look at my mom for approval, which she quickly gives.
After riding around for several minutes, the man pulls out an adult-sized bike and asks
if I want to go for a ride with him.
I practically beg my mom to let me go. She reluctantly agrees,
but says that we can only go to the end of the block and back. He smiles at her and tells
her that that's no problem. Then starts peddling towards the stop sign, with me right behind him. Before I knew it, we were at the stop sign. He then takes
a right turn. I follow but remember thinking, okay, maybe he's just making a wide turn
to go back. But no, he continues down the road, getting farther and farther from the stop
sign. I began to get a little worried because my mom said only to the stop sign and I was far
from it.
I thought about turning around but I was worried that I would just get myself in even more
trouble or lost.
So I kept following.
Before I knew it, we were at the sea wall, and he had me follow him to the sidewalk that was right
above the shore, and I was able to see the waves come in and out. Me being satisfied with my little
piece of adventure, and worried that my mom would be mad if I didn't come back soon, I shouted.
We were pretty far from the house, I think we should go back, to which he shouted.
I think we should go back to which he shouted. Don't worry, it's all right.
And look how pretty the beach is.
It was hard to hear over the wind and the crashing waves.
As we continued down the sidewalk in front of the beach, I see both of my family's vans
start pulling out and onto the road.
They begin to go in opposite directions. My
first thought was, oh no, they're leaving me, what am I going to do? They weren't leaving
me though. They were coming to find me. My family began to worry when we didn't come
right back and decided to come get me themselves. One of the vans had my mom and stepped at in the
other, my grandma and aunt. My grandma and aunt ended up being the ones who found us. My grandma
was livid. She pulled the van over a little ways in front of us and slammed it into park.
Both my grandma and aunt got out. My grandma let loose on this guy, saying something along the lines of what the fuck is the
matter with you, don't you have something better to do than take someone's child that
you don't know this far away without their permission?
Honestly, I think there was a lot more said, but this was a long time ago and unfortunately
my bad-ass grandma isn't
around anymore for me to ask.
The next thing I know, my grandma has picked up the bike that I was riding, then threw
it in the back of the van before quickly ushering me into the cab.
On the way back to the house I'm told of all of the horrible things that man could have
done to me, and that I should have had enough sense to turn around and come back.
But also was told that they were very happy I was safe, and that they loved me.
When we got back to the house, I was given a second lecture, this time from my mom and
step-dad, about how the man could have been a rapist or a murderer, all of the above, and that I could have died.
I remember feeling like the whole thing was my fault and therefore felt very guilty.
Looking back on this, it is a bit bone-chilling to think about what could have happened.
Was the man just trying to be kind and help out a child?
Or did he have a more sinister plan to take me somewhere and do God only knows what?
Thankfully, I never had to find out, thanks to my amazing grandma, but regardless,
whether your intentions were good or bad,cle man, let's not meet.
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Find your nearest location at zipscarwash.com, then drive and shine today. I'm 40 years old, married, have a child, decent job, and I live in a different country to
the one that I grew up in.
How these things happened is a miracle given the number of sticky situations I got myself
into in my teens and my 20s.
I'm surprised I survived.
Here's a selection of some of the highlights.
In the early 2000s, when I was just into my 20s, I attended a university in a particularly
dangerous city in the UK.
How dangerous are we talking? Well, in our orientation week, the faculty
handed us all personal attack alarms as part of our welcome pack and ran us through the
dangers and risks associated with our new home. The accommodation notice board separated
housing adverts into two sections, safe for females, and males only.
This was not a nice place after dark.
During my first week, I went out to a club with my new flatmates.
There had been a spate of sexual assaults by unlicensed cab drivers,
so we took a proper cab home, thinking that it was
safe.
All my friends jumped out leaving me to pay, while they were drunkenly distracted and
starting to walk in the direction of our flat.
The driver locked the doors, and told me to give him an extra 20, otherwise he wouldn't
be letting me out.
Assuming I was following behind, my friends were too far away to hear me yell for them.
So I did what he asked, and he let me go.
Lesson one, nobody leaves anyone alone in a cab.
A few weeks later, we went to another club. It was packed. It had a really bad vibe,
and when a girl squared up to our group unprovoked, we got a little freaked out and left, climbing
over tables to get to the exit, as people were jammed in so close. God, it was horrible.
When we eventually got out, we were faced with a line of riot police.
That moment, the fire alarm went off and people poured out from the venue into total chaos.
On the next day on the front of the newspaper, and this was the early 2000s remember,
there was a police officer holding up his vest, which was full of stab holes.
Two people had been shot inside and they were trying to evacuate to get to them.
Patrons were trying to stab police as they worked.
They had metal detectors on the club doors and everyone was searched, so how there was
a gun and knives that got in there?
I don't know. We still went out
to clubs, but I was no longer so naive. Fast forward to my final year of university,
and I was heavily into drinking and partying. My long-term boyfriend had broken up with me,
and my mental health had spiraled downwards. I had a little regard for myself and was sleeping
around a bit. During my off-the-rails stage, I met two less than ideal guys. We'll call
them Chris and Matt.
Let's talk about Chris first. Chris was the most beautiful man I had ever set eyes on,
but had his share of issues. He was a bit of a rebel. His family
was extremely wealthy, lived overseas doing something in the oil industry, and he had
gone to one of the best schools in the UK. However, when I met him, he had dropped out of
the local art college and was working as a bartender at a crappy nightclub,
which is where I met him.
As he had been kicked out of his aunt's house after leaving college and had been cut off
cash-wise from his family, he now lived in a real-life crack house.
The basement was occupied by a dealer called Marvin, and the lounge room had nothing in
it except one ripped up sofa and blood spatter on the walls.
But why would that stop me?
He was gorgeous, after all.
The house was four stories, absolutely huge.
It was run down and built in the 1800s, though. You'd hear rats running up and down the walls.
Chris lived in the attic, and there were maybe four or five other people living on different floors.
Plus a few drug-addled, ever-changing randoms passed out or sitting around.
One day, I put my phone down on the third floor bathroom, walked up the
stairs to Chris's room, then remembered my phone. So, I turned around and headed back.
My phone had already been stolen from somebody who was shuffling around on the lower floors
of the house. Marvin was always nice to me. He would chat while doing his dishes. A dealer and rubber gloves has a sight to
be holed, but fuck with him and he would probably kill you. Not long before, all of his stuff
had been stolen and his girlfriend had been badly beaten in the house by a rival dealer
who had broken in. I knew he always carried weapons because of this. He had two
large men who acted as security at the front door.
Anyway, Marvin was furious about my phone. He had a strange sense of right and wrong and
didn't tolerate stealing from the house by his customers.
While searching, I asked him in passing if he had seen my phone.
A few minutes later I heard yelling. Looking out of the window, I saw that he had dragged
a girl out of the house, and he was beating her head into the driveway while shouting
at her to tell him where the phone was. Despite this terrifying incident, my phone was gone and Chris told me not to come over
anymore as it wasn't safe for me now.
I knew that customers carried guns as one day I had seen them sitting on the stairs
comparing them.
That day I had tried to play it cool, like it was no big deal, and stepped
around them before locking myself in Chris's room, petrified. Not wanting to be hurt by
a group of people pissed at me because their friend got beaten. That was my last visit
to Chris's house for a while. Not long after, Chris and I fell out spectacularly. A landlord evicted everyone,
and who knows what happened to them all. I guess they moved operations elsewhere. The other guy
Matt features less than my story other than to say I was kind of a...
Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed
for federal government professionals, from courses to help you attain or retain certification
to individualize coaching services, to programs at home, your leadership skills, and business
acumen.
Management concepts optimizes your professional development, online, in-person, individually,
or groups.
It's training that's measurably better.
Learn more at managementconcepts.com.
That's managementconcepts.com.
I'm obsessed with him.
And in my unbalanced state,
I thought nothing of turning up uninvited
and hopes that he might eventually like me back.
One night after getting extremely drunk,
I thought about walking to his house.
Lucky him, right?
It was the early hours of the morning, and by some miracle I made it there safely.
He wasn't home, but I bought some weed and smoked a bit with his housemate, then left
to walk home myself. I was off my face, in heels, and one of the most dangerous male-only areas of a dangerous
city.
It was about 3 or 4 a.m., and I'm walking a main road, but it's deserted.
On my side of the street is a row of houses, nobody about, and on the other is a cemetery. It's pitch black over there,
and wait for it. It's misty like in a horror film. As I walked, not very quickly due to the
heels and intoxication, I became conscious of the sound of someone on my side of the road walking behind me. I look around and
it's a man, and a dark hoodie pulled up around his face.
Shit! I walk faster in my heels, but he speeds up slightly. I speed up more and he speeds
up more. He's now gaining on me. He was far enough away that he couldn't run without tipping me off
and causing me to run, so he was fast walking in a semi-casual way, I guess, until he
got close enough to close in. The alcohol wears off a bit when the adrenaline is pumping,
so my memory is clear at this point. While this was happening, a car crawls past, but I'm not really thinking it's dangerous
because I'm too busy thinking great, I'm about to be dragged into the cemetery and murdered
by this bloke behind me.
The car stops a few meters in front of me, and the car door opens on the passenger's
side quickly. "'Get in,' said the girl from the front urgently.
"'What?' I said.
"'Get in the car, we'll take you home.'"
This isn't a great choice.
There's a guy driving, and I don't know these people, but I figure I can either be murdered
by them or by this other guy.
Either way, I'm screwed, so I get in the backseat.
They speed off and I direct them to my house.
While driving, the girl said something to the effect of,
Holy shit!
You know that man was about to grab you, right?
They had seen us as they drove up the street.
It's a long, straight road, and my side had street lights and no cars parked to block
their view.
They decided that they would rescue me.
They got me home safely, with a mini-lecture on not wandering around at night again.
Fair enough.
There were no other cars around that night, and if it hadn't been
for those two angels who happened to be passing by and happened to notice my plight, it's
not inconceivable, I might be dead. So to the girl and guy who probably saved my life
and the police that risked their lives to evacuate that nightclub.
Thank you.
Into that shitty cab driver, Marvin, the person that stole my phone, terrifying hoodie
guy and all of the other assholes that made women feel unsafe in that city.
Let's not meet. meat.
This story takes place around 2009.
At that time, I was working for a pharmacy that would package people's meds through
the month in these plastic 28-day bubble packs. We had hundreds of clients, and we delivered
to them all, as most of the people that were on this program were in assisted living
homes or just too elderly to travel out to the pharmacy.
I was one of the delivery drivers, and I would see these people generally
once a month. There was this one old man that I would visit named Frank. Frank was in his late
80s, and he was our run of the mill frail old man. He lived in a state-run apartment tower
in a medium-sized city. He was on the 8th floor, so every month, when I had his meds,
I would buzz his apartment from the street, and he would let me end of the building.
I would then ride the elevator to the 8th floor, and without fail, he would always be standing
there at the elevator as it opened to get his meds. This was always great because usually I was
in a hurry with multiple deliveries,
and I never had to worry about walking all the way down to his apartment, waiting for him
to answer the door, etc. It was always there, right at the elevator, clinging to his walker
with a big smile on his face. I'd hand him the meds and leave the building. He was the ideal customer. Around this
time, I had bought my first house. My wife and I were in the beginning planning stages
of possibly having a baby so after we bought the house. She asked me to check the sex offender
website and look at our neighborhood, just in case.
Well, that was pretty easy, and when I looked around our town, nothing of any note came
up.
However, while I was on the site, I thought out of morbid curiosity, I wonder if I check
out some towns I deliver meds to, if anybody that I know would pop up.
So I typed in the name of this medium-sized
city that I frequented. I noticed a few red dots in the section 8 apartment tower, so
I clicked them. Holy shit, there was Frank. His face popped right up, seemingly recent
as he looked pretty old in the picture.
I clicked on it to read about what his crime was, and I was horrified at what I saw.
It seems that some time...
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concepts.com. And the 80s, Frank had been arrested for sexually assaulting boys.
Under the age of 10, I couldn't believe it.
This nice old man was actually a disgusting sex offender.
He had multiple offenses, no less.
I went to work the next day with this knowledge, and sure enough, I had Frank's monthly delivery
on my list for the day.
Fuck.
Oh well, as grossed out as I was, I knew it would be a literal 30-second exchange, and I would
be able to get out of there.
So I went to his place, buzzed his apartment. He let me in the building. I rode the elevator
up to his floor. The door's opened, and there he was. Big smile on his face. It obviously
never bothered me before until today.
Hey, Frank, I said. He replied back with. Hello? I handed him his meds and prepared to head back down the elevator.
But for some reason, this time he stopped me.
Hey, I have something for you.
What the fuck he never did this?
I have a lot of deliveries to get to you today, I said. It'll only take a minute," he replied and started walking down the hall.
Reluctantly, I followed.
I thought maybe he has a check for me or something.
Maybe he didn't pay over the phone this month.
He walked down the hall slowly, using his walker.
I followed behind.
The entire time I was thinking of his crimes,
but I was also thinking, he's an old fucker. If he fucking tried anything I could push him down so
easily, he would probably turn into dust as soon as he hit the floor. I wasn't scared,
but I was definitely uneasy. I followed him to his apartment.
He opened the heavy thick metal door and went inside.
As I entered, the door automatically swung shut with a boom that startled me.
Get a fucking grip, he's just an old man, I thought.
He started walking to his dark bedroom.
Come on in here. I have. Come on, in here.
I have something for you," he said.
I hesitated, but slowly followed him to the bedroom.
I stood in the doorway as I watched him move towards the dresser.
With his back to me, he opened the top drawer and began shuffling around inside.
I looked around his apartment, and it was dirty and
unkempt. He grabbed something out of the drawer and turned around.
Here, he said. As I prepared for him to hand me something, disgusting, maybe a fistful
of disturbing photos or something, but no, in his hand was a giant amount of empty med plastics
from our pharmacy. I know you recycle these, and they were piling up, he said.
Oh, yeah, thanks, I said as I took them. I quickly made my way out of his place, down the
hall to the elevator, and out of the building. Even though absolutely nothing sinister
happened to me, I was really creeped out. I just kept thinking about the poor kids. How scared
they must have been. That was the last time I saw Frank, actually. He died shortly after.
Who knows where the people are that he hurt in his life, but hopefully his death was
some kind of closure for them?
Maybe not, either way.
Frank fuck off, and hopefully we never meet again. Thank you for listening to this week's episode of Let's Not Meet, a True Horror Podcast.
Don't forget to stick around after the music of your patron for the extended, ad-free
version of this week's episode, as well as all of the past episodes, if you want to get access, head over to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet Podcast, to
sign up and support the show today, and don't forget to check out the new episodes of my
other shows Odd Trails, my True Paranormal Podcast, and the Old Time Radiocast.
This week you will have a word.
Camping in the Rain by Doc Trauma.
He had a cult by Toddie Boy, 331.
Bicycle Man by Greenbubbles 97.
A series of unfortunate events by a listener that asked to remain anonymous.
And finally Frank by Ben.
All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission
of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of the respective authors.
Make sure you send your stories to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com if you'd like
to hear them on the show.
Some of the listeners have been asking about the progress of the TV pilot.
I'm happy to announce that we're currently casting and scouting locations to start filming
in the coming months.
I'm very excited.
There have also been some listeners that have asked if there's a way that they can still
donate to help make it happen and get access to some rewards that were listed in our Indiegogo.
I will keep you updated on that.
There is a chance we might be able to do a secondary fundraiser for those that still want to donate
that are coming in late.
I'm not 100% sure, but I will keep you guys updated here on the show
and those of you that donated for the Indiegogo, we're currently rounding up all of the information
so that we can get all of those rewards out to you in a timely manner. And again, I will
keep you all updated. Thank you so much for your support. I'm very excited about it.
I'll see you all next week for a brand new episode of Let's Not Meet. Stay safe. When I was 12, my friends decided that we would go out for one last year of trick-or-trick.
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