Let's Not Meet: A True Horror Podcast - 9x20: Shadow - Let's Not Meet
Episode Date: December 19, 2022Stories in this episode: - Work Stalker by, Mrs. Adams (0:52) - Shadow, by Sam (25:38) - Don't Take the Early Shift, by Molly (34:15) - Hares and a Hatchet, by Anon (43:29) Extended Patreon Cont...ent: - No Wonder You Like Taylor Swift So Much, by Syd - Thrift Store Scare, by Merc - Street 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.   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. PDS DEBT is offering free debt analysis to our listeners just for completing the quick and easy debt assessment at https://PDSDebt.com/meet. - Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/groups/433173970399259/ - 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 9 episode 20 of Let's Not Need a True Horror I recently started listening to this podcast and I thought that it would be nice to tell
my story not only for other people like me who do their dishes and like listening to true
crime or other true stories, but mostly for the fact that people need to understand what
the real world is actually like.
The real world is much darker than it seems. I haven't talked about this
since it happened, but I appreciate how you can vey everybody's stories. As much as
people tell you that you are crazy or just plain old paranoid, this podcast reminds me
that I do have trust in this world. Everything isn't rainbows and lollipops, people are sinister. What lurks
in the shadows can even lurk in broad daylight. It's nice knowing that I'm not alone.
To give you a little backstory, I was always a very nervous child around other people,
mostly strangers. As an adult, I still get nervous. I've always gotten strong,
gut feelings about most people.
I mostly keep these feelings to myself, but when I was younger, I would tell my parents if something
was ever off. Whenever I would tell anyone, they always chalked it up to me being paranoid,
due to the fact that sometimes I could be a little overzealous when sharing my strong gut
feelings.
I was working as a lifeguard at our local pool and gym.
I had been a lifeguard for almost three years.
I can probably say that I was very good at my job.
I loved the people even when they could be bothersome.
Not only was I a lifeguard, but I was an instructor as well.
I also worked in another section of the building with childcare in the evenings. I lived in
a small town and work was roughly five to ten minutes away from my house. I lived in what
was technically the countryside with a lot of corn fields. I also lived next to my old high school. Keep this in mind for later.
Working as a lifeguard for three years, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence to have creeps
gawking. I'm sure any lifeguard has been in an uncomfortable situation with someone
creepy. As a female, I have found more than my fair share of this. Over half of my creeps have been male adults ranging
from 30 to over 65. Yes, over 65. I had filed three reports concerning multiple men bothering
me within the time span of a year. I had to be walked out to my car by other staff when
working in the evening. Surprisingly, I got used to it.
A word of advice. Don't get used to it. It was my job though. I had to be polite about
engaging with all members. Even after filing a report on some of them, if a member came
in, it was our company's policy to be polite and deal with them if you were on duty.
I would adhere to this. Sometimes I would chuckle or laugh with members, which the company
loved.
I always thought this policy, to be friendly, was a big fucking mistake.
It felt wrong to leave the door for members open that wide.
There was also a rule stated to members not to talk to or bother lifeguards while they
were on duty.
Half of the time, I was the only lifeguard there since I was the oldest out of all of the
staff.
The staff ranged in age.
I was 19 to 21 while working there.
I was always told by some gentlemen who were members of the gym that I didn't look my
age.
They thought that I didn't look my age.
They thought that I was younger.
I was bothered often while I was on duty at the Lifeguard Station, but I always knew who
my regulars were, and I always knew the times to expect them to come by every day.
The pool area was attached to the gym and had a sauna as well.
Many members would work out and then go over to the sauna to finish off their workout
with a 20-minute sweat.
One day, a new member joined the gym in which straight to the sauna.
A few weeks went by, and he continued doing this every day at the same time.
He would often go into the sauna area with a coworker of mine that I worked with
in the childcare section of the building. This new member would always wave to me while
the coworker that he was with would joke with me or chat for a bit. This was usually
around a bunch of times, and it was down time for me since I either had no one in the pool
or maybe just a few people.
More people would be in the sauna which meant that it was a prime time for people who wanted
to chat with me.
Mind you, at this time, I was a 21-year-old woman with a boyfriend.
I was just trying to get a decent paycheck.
This new member who will call Mike finally came out of the sauna one day and passed behind
my lifeguard station.
He continued walking for a moment, then stopped, and turned.
No one was in the pool, so it was just me out there, in the pool area alone.
Mike asked, why do I always see you here?
In the same chair, every day.
In my head this seemed like a routine question, so I gave a simple, short, and sweet answer.
Because nobody else wants to work.
Mike laughed as he inched closer to me.
It wasn't uncomfortable for me, but with the height of my station and the power that I had
being the lifeguard on duty, I felt like I could easily kick him out if he became a problem.
I continued giving him simple answers,
keeping the company policy to be polite to members in mind.
I started seeing Mike everywhere.
I would see him multiple times throughout my lifeguard shift.
I would also see him in the evening when I worked in the childcare area.
He would come in to play basketball by himself or with a group of friends.
He started saying things like,
most be nice to see me multiple times a day.
You're gonna watch me make this shot.
I'm gonna make this shot just for you.
Sometimes these comments got creepier and he'd say something like, you like
watching my butt when I make a shot, don't you? These comments would leave me feeling stunned,
I would either not respond or break away saying that I needed to attend to a child that
didn't actually need to be attended to. I finally mustered up the courage to ask a coworker about Mike.
My coworker told me that Mike had a heart condition and lived in the apartment complex
next door, which is why he always spent the majority of his day hanging around the gym.
I told my coworker some of the things that Mike had been saying to me.
My coworker brushed it off and said, that's just how he is.
About a month or so went by without seeing Mike,
so I forgot a majority of what was going on with him.
One day, I got a friend request on Facebook from him.
I immediately had four to five messages from Mike asking me
if we could go see a movie.
He said that he really wanted to take me out.
No, I'm with someone. I said as I politely declined. Mike asked, not even his friends.
This felt like it was some sort of trick. I didn't know a thing about this guy. I replied,
you're a nice guy and all, but I don't know you. I don't go out with people I don't know.
As I stated before, I have a boyfriend.
I spend a lot of time with him.
Enjoy the rest of your day though.
Ordinarily, a normal person would take the hint
the first or maybe the second time, but not Mike.
Mike was persistent.
He sent about 10 more messages stating,
that's why I wanna go out with you
so we can get to know each other.
Mike's messages became increasingly manipulative.
He started saying things like,
some girls lie about having boyfriends,
you don't seem like the type to lie.
He would also ask details about my boyfriend
while apologizing for wanting to take a chance on me.
He also sent self-pitying messages like, I'm sorry for bothering you, I get it, I'm really sorry for asking you
questions. I had heard shit like this before from a previous boyfriend, I was also familiar
with this tactic from my mother using it to guilt trip me for many years. I never responded to Mike.
I didn't see much of him.
When he would come in, he would act like he was mad at me.
He would avoid walking the path behind my lifeguard station.
He was moping around all the time.
But I was happy to be left alone.
Fast forward to the spring of 2020.
I was no longer a lifeguard, Fast forward to the spring of 2020.
I was no longer a lifeguard, and I had a different job that required me to go to multiple
houses in a single day.
The main office was in a county about half an hour away from where I lived.
My new job was to work inside people's homes in these surrounding counties helping with
elderly so that they
could do tasks and take their medications. Basically, I would sit with them, keep them company
and make sure that they had everything that they needed.
My boyfriend had sworn into the military. He was at boot camp and had some extra training
that year, so he wasn't around. I lived with my dad and his dog. I always told my dad everything,
so my dad knew me and my schedule well. If I was going out, he knew how long I would be
gone and when to expect me back home. In the summer of 2020, I was on my way to work.
I had two houses to visit that day. The first house was a 4 hour shift and it was located 25 to 30 minutes
from my house. The second house was 30 minutes away from the first one in a different county.
I usually left for work around the same time every day, since the first house was going
to be a new house for me, I left 10 minutes early. I followed the route on Google, had my
music going, and spent about 10 minutes driving
before taking a good look in the rearview mirror.
A red car with something orange hanging from the rearview mirror was following me, but
they were kind of far back.
I was on a straight stretch for 20 minutes, and I watched this car go back and forth from
speeding up to get really close, then hanging
two car lengths back. I finally made a right turn and drove a bit, but the red car was still
following as I was about to make another right turn heading towards the client's house.
I noticed that the red car went straight after my second right turn. I was nervous but
I brushed it off and I parked in front
of my client's house. When I parked I prepared to get out of my car when my eyes caught a
flash of red in my driver's side mirror. The red car was speeding off so fast I heard
the tires screeching. I became more nervous so instead of getting out of the car, I locked the doors and stayed
in my car until the absolute last minute before my shift was set to begin.
Four hours went by.
I kept trying to rationalize the car.
I thought maybe whoever was driving that red car had mistaken me for somebody else that
they knew.
I got into my car and headed away from that client's house.
As I was passing some parking lots, I looked in my rearview mirror again.
I saw that same fucking red car.
I started making my turn to get to house number two, while promptly starting to have a panic
attack.
I called my dad as the car continued to follow, doing the same thing as before,
speeding up and slowing down. I cried to my dad, saying that I didn't know what to do.
I told him I didn't know who was following me.
Trying to calm me down, my dad told me to go to a public spot and lose the red car.
My chance to do this came when I took some turns through a Walmart parking lot.
I made a quick right into the area and made it a point to go all the way around the entire
lot.
I watched this idiot go straight into the parking lot, but he met me again and stayed
right behind me.
Luckily my second client lived in a home that was in a heavily surveilled area.
He had it furnished with surveillance equipment.
My client's house was tucked away from the street and had a long driveway.
If the red car would have followed me, it would have been on camera.
Sadly, that did not happen.
My dad stayed on the phone with me until I got inside the client's house.
I told my client and coworker what was going on.
My dad met me once I was off in the evening so that he could follow me home.
For the next two days, this clown in the red car continued to follow, across three or four different counties.
The car followed me to multiple houses, but never followed me in the evenings as far
as I knew.
My dad wanted to wait to call the sheriff, due to where our house was, that's who we were
supposed to call.
We were out of the jurisdiction of the police, so there was nothing that they could do for
us.
The fourth and final day that I was followed was when my dad decided to follow me around
for the day himself.
He wanted to play whoever was following me with their own game and try to get a license
plate number.
I tried before but I couldn't get a picture without drawing attention to what I was doing,
plus this driver never drove ahead
of me. I pulled out of my driveway and started my route. I didn't see a car at first, but
then this fucker passed me as they were coming down my road. It felt like slow motion watching
this guy press on his brakes hard.
My dad was on the phone with me the whole time.
He was in the car right behind me watching as this red car turned around to follow me.
I had another panic attack.
I was fed up with this.
This person was following me to work and passing by my house now.
They knew my schedule and were clearly willing to follow me anywhere
at any time. We got to a traffic light in town, and this driver had the audacity to pull
into the lane directly to my right, as I was in the lane to go straight. It was dark
and raining that morning. They were wearing sunglasses with a hat that had a visor pulled down.
I tried my best to make it look like I wasn't obviously watching, but I had my dad right behind me.
After a while, I made a right turn and drove a few blocks. When I came to a four-way stop,
the red car was to my right.
They sped through the intersection and made a right at the next intersecting street.
I made a left and continued straight for a few blocks, then hit another four-way stop.
And there it was again, Mr. Red Car.
I stopped first, but my dad was still behind us.
My dad continued to drive behind us until I managed
to get to my client's house. The client knew what was going on and kindly waited for me
on the porch. My dad followed Mr. Red Car.
My dad said that the Red Car was parked in a shopping center five streets away from my
client's house. My dad circled back and parked across the street, facing the end of the street.
He watched Mr. Red Car as he drove by six times during the two-hour window that I was with
my client.
That night after returning home, as I land bed, I see a Facebook notification.
It says I have a message.
It's from Mike, the guy who was a member of the gym that I used to work at.
I had spoken to Mike in 2019, the year prior.
He messaged me a few times between 2019 and 2020, but I never replied. This sent chills up my spine.
I kind of felt odd that he happened to be messaging me when I had all of this stuff
going on.
I decided to read the message and our conversation went like this.
Mike asked, hey, how are you?
I'm fine, I just got home from a long day at work going to bed soon, I replied.
Oh, well, aren't you going to ask me about my day?" he urged.
I paused.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I complied with his request.
I'm really tired, but how was your day?
I started off having a good day, but this guy kept following me in my buddy around this morning.
It was a blue SUV.
If I ever find out who that guy is, I'm going to smash his teeth in.
I lay there in shock, and my heart went through the fucking floor.
My dad drove the blue SUV.
Mike actually elaborated on the make and model of my dad's SUV, but I'll
leave those details out for privacy, obviously. I had never been so baffled yet so scared
in my life. I didn't reply to Mike, I immediately told my dad and we called the sheriff.
When we contacted the sheriff, we provided him with all of the information
that we had. My dad had a picture of the license plate, had written down every time that I
was being followed. We even used Google to make sure that we had the correct street names
of the routes Mike followed me on. I had three pages worth, detailing every single
street and every single turn, every single time that this happened.
I shared that Mike blatantly admitted to being followed by my dad which meant that he
was indirectly admitting to following me.
The sheriff sent a female deputy out to take my statement.
She asked me all kinds of questions and took the license plate number.
She asked if I knew where Mike lived. I told her the last place I knew that he lived was the apartment next to my previous
place of employment. I specifically told her that I knew he was the same car following
me around. I was insisting to the point of being over zealous and she told me to calm down.
She told me that I was smart in keeping track of everything.
She said to give her a call if anything else came up. She also let me know that I shouldn't
hesitate to call 911. I was concerned since I worked in multiple counties daily, but she reassured
me that once my information was put into the system other counties would be able to access it.
She said that she and another deputy were going to go to mics and have a chat with him after leaving
my house. I didn't wait for a phone call afterward. I just went to my room and I thought about what
could happen next. I also thought about what could have happened over the last two years that maybe I didn't
notice.
I didn't sleep, but my dad told me that the deputies went over to Mike's.
Turns out Mike was 33 years old.
He lied to the sheriff and deputy about the red car.
He said it was a friend's car.
Mike said that he had no involvement in following me around.
He said he didn't even know me. The red car was registered in his name, though.
Mike didn't work due to his heart condition, which gave him all the free time in the
world to follow me around. The female deputy told him if he ever tried to mess with me
again, she wouldn't be back just to chat. She said that legal action would be taken, and she would see it through to the end.
As far as I know, I never saw Mike or his red car again after that.
After the fact, I remembered that before the four days of heavy stalking and following,
I had seen a red car slowly pass my house.
At the time, I thought it was maybe a neighbor, but I saw the red car consistently for a
week or two before these four days of absolute terror.
I also found out that Mike was really good friends with one of my teachers from high school
who got into some serious trouble for being a little too close with a student during school
hours and after hours. It's a crazy thing to be stalked in real life and have somebody be so
obsessed with you. After this, my dad and I installed cameras and added additional locks to our
home. For a solid three months after, I slept with the baseball bat next to my bed.
I'm married now and I live in a completely different state.
I've told my husband the story and sometimes he teases me in good fun and tells me not
to be so paranoid.
I'm paranoid for a reason.
I trust my gut as much as possible and I'm one of those people who can confirm that
intuition is a real thing.
I carry mace all the time and constantly
check that my doors are locked. I take a closer look at my surroundings than before. I check
out who's parked next to me in parking lots and how many people are around. I'm not living
in fear, but I take careful measures. Things like this happen to more people than you would think.
Another word of advice. If you're like me, don't let anyone try to more people than you would think. Another word of advice.
If you're like me, don't let anyone try to tell you that your feelings or intuition
are wrong, even if it turns out to be nothing in the end.
I was very lucky to have my dad and clients around for me the way that they were.
I'm also thankful for the sheriff's deputies who helped me.
I still carry their cards with me.
Lastly, I'm thankful that Mike incriminated himself, not only to me, but to the sheriff's as well.
So, stalker in the red car? Mike? I don't know what you had planned, but let's not meet again. Amplify your career through training and development solutions specifically designed
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To tell this story well, I have to give quite a bit of back story. That's managementconcepts.com. the year. I planned that 2020 would be the year that I would move to Nashville to see if I could
make it in Music City. I went to Nashville in early February, was offered three great jobs,
and signed a lease in a luxury apartment complex. Why did I go for a lease in a luxury apartment
complex? Because I could. I had three great job offers. I was even able to work two of the jobs if I wanted
until I started getting booked for shows. Life was great. My feet hit the soil in Nashville, Tennessee,
the exact day that the shelter-in-place order went into effect. One by one, my job offers pulled out.
Since I willingly left my previous jobs to move to Nashville, I didn't qualify for unemployment.
Also, I was locked into a lease at this ungodly expensive luxury apartment.
I made it through my 14 month lease by the skin of my teeth, working odd jobs and at fast
food drive-throughs.
Since I had been using every scent that I had on survival, I had not been
able to dedicate anything to my music. During this time my sister moved to Nashville and things were
starting to open up again. My sister is a nurse. She and I have never gotten along.
Now her home had recently been broken into and she asked me to move in with her, along with
my very large dog.
My sister said all I had to do was help with the utility bills, and help out with her
dog.
This seemed like an opportunity for me to get back on my feet again.
This might be a good time to introduce my pride and joy, my dog.
His name is Shadow Bear.
He is a black seven-year-old Boovee-ADay Flanderer, and he's about 110 pounds of muscle.
I say that as if I'm boasting about having a purebred dog or something, but my family
was contacted by a breeder that they had a puppy from in the past.
The breeder said that they had one puppy left, and that no one had claimed it.
Thus Shadow came into my life. It was such a
surprise, as I wasn't even planning on getting a dog, but Shadow found his way to me. I didn't
even have a name picked out for him the first two weeks because I wanted his name to be
perfect. Even as a three-month-old puppy, he never needed a leash. He followed me around
everywhere, always right behind me.
This angel has been with me through everything. Five different moves, COVID breakups, you
name it. Shadow was there. Part of the reason we had to move so much was my narrow escape
from an abusive ex-boyfriend. Let's just say that my shadow had to stand in front of
me at time or two.
Shadow has protected me my whole life, and he doesn't realize that he doesn't have
to anymore.
His life hasn't been the easiest because he always had to take care of me.
When you're starting out in Nashville, you get everyone's scraps.
The only shifts that there was a chance to get were shifts that no one wanted to pick up.
I was working about 60 hours per week, as well as picking up shows whenever I could.
I was living at my sister's house and trying to rest as much as possible.
One evening I played a four hour show until two in the morning, and then woke up the next
day to play another show at 10 a.m.
My boyfriend was hanging out with me since he played guitar for me at both of these shows,
and we were ready to take a nap.
I decided to let Shadow out in the backyard to run around a bit to burn some energy before
we fell asleep.
There was a small area of the yard that wasn't completely fenced, maybe six feet total.
Yes, I know.
I shouldn't have let my dog out off leash, knowing that part of the yard wasn't fully
fenced, but Shadow's recall was amazing, and there had never been a time that he went
rogue.
I was wearing nothing but a bathrobe, and even that was too much because it was hot as
hell, 90-something degrees.
The next door neighbors were outside in their yard. They were playing Spanish music so loudly
that it could be heard throughout the neighborhood,
but we're fine with it since they're great neighbors.
Without warning, a man walks up the alley.
I noticed him immediately and so did Shadow.
The man wasn't walking into our yard, but he was very
close to it. If that wasn't weird enough, the man was wearing cargo shorts, a long black
trench coat, a black winter toboggan hat, and dark sunglasses.
When I saw this man I already knew what was going to happen. I quickly yelled.
No, to Shadow, three times, but he was already gone.
I don't know how to describe it, but evil energy just exuded off of this man.
The vile energy was palpable in the air. I had never felt anything like it.
Shadow just knew something wasn't right.
He took off into the alley.
He barked, snorled, gnashed his teeth, and chased this man away from the property.
I was screaming and trying to call Shadow back while trying to stay covered up in my bath-rope.
Shadow didn't bite or attack or anything, but he made it known
that the man was not welcome. Shadow ran right back to me and stood in front of me. I breathed the
sigh of relief bent down and held him close. Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw the man come
back around the corner. I stood up, turned to face him, and was suddenly looking down the barrel of a
gun. He better take care of your dog, he threatened, as he moved the gun from me towards
Shadow. He then continued, or I will. Shadow was not pleased. I guess I have just been through enough trauma in my
life that I was completely unfazed by this moment. The man began walking away, but somehow
my deranged ass puffed up my chest and found the voice to say, I'm sorry about my dog, but you don't have to point the fucking gun at us.
Then I quickly dragged Shadow into the house and locked the door.
I ran up the stairs to get my boyfriend
who had been snoozing away while Shadow and I were engaged
in a battle of good versus evil in the backyard.
I was screaming and totally losing it.
Falling apart, I asked my boyfriend if I should call the cops.
My boyfriend, awakening to Total Warfare, groggling mumbled.
You just had a gun pointed at you, yes, call the cops.
I called them, and they took it from there.
I had to ride in the back of a cop car to go to the station to identify the man whom
the police found a few blocks away from our home. It seemed a little silly to me to have to
identify him. All that would come out of my mouth was, he's the one in the winter hat
with the long black trench coat. Do you really need more than that?
I don't know what that man was up to. Part of me wonders if he was going
to torment my Spanish-speaking neighbors, but was somehow deterred by Shadow. The explanation
for how he was dressed could have been as simple as he was freezing, but it was in the
high 90s, almost 100 degrees. For Shadow to react the way that he did towards this guy,
and for me to immediately feel the wicked, dark energy,
he must have been someone truly evil.
To the creepy menace in the alley,
wearing the winter clothing on such a hot day,
let's not meet again.
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I'm 22 years old and have been listening to this podcast since mid 2019.
I live in a big city in southwest England and this happened last year.
I was living in a city that was known for its beauty and old-timey architecture.
I lived there for a university, and at the time of this story, I was in my third year of university.
I was a student full-time and worked at my local supermarket, rhyming with Pesto. The Brits will get
this one. There was a particular month when I struggled to make rent.
Luckily Christmas was coming up and supermarkets handed out over time like nobody's business.
The city that I lived in during this time was completely full of old posh people or university
students. There was no in-between. While it was a beautiful city, there was a shitty
part. I lived in the armpit of this city for the cheap rent and the lack of old, posh
people. It was a student's perfect homeland. I had been working for about ten days straight.
I had an early opening shift which started at 6 in
the morning. I rarely took early shifts, but I did in this case since I needed the money.
As I never took these types of shifts, my sleeping pattern just wasn't used to ending the
night early in order to be awake at 4.30 in the morning. It was roughly two in the morning at this point, and I was
tossing and turning, cussing myself blind for not being able to sleep. Then I heard a slight
knock at the door. Now it was Christmas, holiday season. My two flatmates had gone home.
My parents only lived about half an hour away, so I decided to stay
at the flat and continue to work. I knew it couldn't have been my flatmates knocking
on the door that night. To understand the layout of my flat, once
at the main door, you would walk down a small hallway and then up a flight of stairs. From there was the front door to our flat.
My flatmates and I were three students who shared this massive house that was converted
into smaller flats. A few other renters in the building were a man below us who loved
to play James Blunt at all hours of the morning. There was another man and another flat who cooked fish every day.
Through the entrance of our flat, to the immediate right was my bedroom, then down the hallway
where my two flatmates bedrooms.
I was closest to the front door.
As I was saying, it was close to two in the morning when I heard this faint knock, and my heart stopped.
You know that feeling when you're very scared, but you can't move. Your whole body goes hot,
then cold, and you have this sinking feeling in your stomach. I had that.
Part of me thought that it was the James Blunt fan from downstairs or maybe the fishy
bloke, but despite living there for three years, I had never really interacted with them
apart from a couple of hellos as I saw them around.
I was going through my mind as to who could be knocking on my door so faintly at two in
the early Tuesday morning. I lay there for a moment, and
the knock happened again. I heard my heartbeat through my ears. I was thinking of ways to
scare them off, but it was eye-fueling. I'm a 22-year-old girl whose five feet tall and weighs 112 pounds. I was, and still am, about as intimidating
as a puppy. Another 10 seconds go by, and this time, this mysterious person starts knocking
louder, to the point where I thought they were going to break the door down, banging on the door
now, with my adrenaline pumping and how close my room is to the front
door, it definitely felt like that. It didn't seem like anyone else woke up from downstairs
so the knocking couldn't have been that loud, right? Whoever was outside tried the door handle to my flat. This flat was a million years old, and that door handle has a very specific squeak to it
as you pull down on it.
So when I heard that sound, I knew that this person was trying to break in.
I got up and I moved to the other side of the room.
Don't ask why I thought that that was going to do something.
I think all the gods of all the religions that I locked the door that night.
This person couldn't break through that flat door, though they managed to break through
the front door downstairs, apparently.
After calming myself down from the whole ordeal, I ended up saying fuck it and stayed awake.
I was supposed to be up in about two hours anyway, and I definitely couldn't sleep after
that, so I just stayed up.
The next morning, as I ended my early shift, my landlord called me and asked if I was on
my way home.
I said yes, and I headed straight there. He told me that the James Blunt fan
called him earlier that day to let him know that someone broke into the main door the
previous night. I arrived home and there were two police officers, my landlord, the fishy
bloke, and the James Blunt enthusiast. My landlord asked if I was okay and sounded very worried. They asked
if I heard or saw anything that happened that night inside or outside the house. I told
the story of the knocking and how someone tried the handle of the front door. The officers
recorded what I was saying as did my landlord. The James Blunt man told me that he heard a knock on his flat door that night
as well. He looked through his people, and he saw a man maybe in his late 20s, with green hair and
a pale blue hoodie. This man had some sort of shiny object in his hand. My mind immediately jumped to the shiny object being a knife, which was confirmed later.
The James Blunt guy only saw this man for about ten seconds, but he said that the man with
the green hair knocked fairly faintly a couple of times before trying the door handle, and
then moving on.
We assume that this is when he went upstairs to my flat.
The officers recorded our story down, and the front door was fixed after being bashed
in.
The next day I was telling my friends this whole story over a pint.
Then one of my friends, who lived by a bridge over some train tracks,
said that he woke up that morning to see three police cars and an ambulance on the bridge.
They had closed off the road. He asked his neighbor what happened, as he left for work at 7am in the
morning. It turned out to be the man with the green hair absolutely covered and blood,
his face, his hair, his pale blue hoodie all seeped in with red on the tracks. This man was
the man who broke into my building. He took his own life by jumping off the bridge and
onto the tracks at five that morning. My friend said that after they took the body away, it was suspected that the man with
the green hair had hurt someone.
It didn't seem like it was a murder, but it was an attempted murder to say the least.
The police gathered a knife that had dried blood on it, yet the man's body had no stab
wounds or
superficial wounds to himself.
I count my lucky stars, but I locked my door that night, but I wish I was fast asleep
so I didn't have to be in fear in my own home.
I feel sorry for the James Blunt fan, as he saw him that night through the people.
He was a lot more friendly to me, and I think that he felt protective in some ways after
that.
To the man with the green hair and the pale blue hoodie, I'm very thankful that we didn't
meet that night, but I wish you had gotten the help that you needed during what was
a very obvious mental break.
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Find your nearest location at zipscarwash.com, then drive and shine today. This final story contains some references and descriptions of hunting animals.
Listener discretion is advised.
This story happened about five years ago right around Winter Solstice.
I'm an avid outdoorsman and an owner of 150 acres of land in New England.
Some of my favorite seasonal activities are hunting and trapping.
All of my land is not posted.
For those who don't understand that, it means that anyone can walk through your land
and hunt, and with permission, they can camp as well.
In the years leading up to the incident, I decided to return to a
form of hunting I did as a kid back when I lived on the West Coast, which was baiting and trapping.
I decided to focus most of my winters on this, trapping small games such as Rabbit and Hairs.
With great success, my first winter haul I caught myself somewhere around twenty grey
hairs.
I had found various burrows and common winter paths that would slightly change each season.
My traps were simple, spring-loaded snares, made with a steel cable news attached to a bent
sapling that functioned like a spring. I chose this method because it's the most ethical way of catching and killing hairs.
I've always made it a habit to carry a 9mm handgun, mostly for comfort, and to ward off
coyotes.
It's not uncommon to find a partial rabbit snared, or only a paw left behind as this is free food for
the nocturnal predators. I had been trapping for a few years, then one Saturday morning
I went to check my traps. Snow had fallen, and it was ankle deep which was perfect for
tracking. I could see hair and rabbit traps everywhere. I was excited to see what I had caught.
I arrived at my first trap to see that the trap was set off.
They were also boot prints leading up to it.
They also went away from the trap.
I went to my second trap, which the boot prints eventually led to.
The second trap had not been set off. I continued to follow the boot prints.
They took me to the last two traps, one of which was set off with no blood or animal remains.
It wasn't uncommon to find boot prints on the edges of the property, but someone messing with my traps. It was quite strange.
This kept happening for weeks. A poacher had clearly taken most of my kill with the exception
of when I really spread out the snares.
I was getting sick of it, so about three weeks later I decided to do a small stakeout operation
to confront the poacher. I would
tell him that he was no longer welcome on my property.
Luckily, I noticed a pattern with the poacher's root. He would always enter from the north
and leave the same way that he came to exit the property.
I have a small, infrared night vision, single-lensed optic that I bought for doing some nighttime exploration. I also
thought that it would be useful for gazing at birds and locating owls in the dead of night.
As always, I grabbed my holster, I stuck it at the four o'clock position on my hip with my waistband.
I also had a small but incredibly powerful flashlight.
I left my house at 2.30 in the morning
and began to walk out to my traps,
which I specifically set up in a shape
so it would be able to clearly see all of them.
I chose a spot near a large rock,
which obscured me from the traps.
The nearest traps stood about 50 feet out from where I was.
I could make out one of my four traps that had been set off.
From there I waited for what felt like an hour in the freezing cold and the quiet night
with just the occasional rustle from the trees or pitter-patter of rabbits and deer.
I began seeing lights on the trees above me occasionally.
I peaked my head to look north directly over the traps. I used my optic, which didn't really
help much until the poacher would enter the vicinity of the traps. Lights blew the optic display out,
which made it basically useless when any light passed over me. A man wearing
a torn-up vest with a long, scraggly looking beard and hair to match went over to each
trap to check. He seemed to see that the trap to the west had a catch and turned to reveal
a small hatchet in his left hand. I watched as he crouched down and began mumbling in coherencies to himself.
I thought this would be a good time to reveal myself.
I grabbed my flashlight and turned it on and pointed it at him.
I called out.
That's not your game.
Those are my traps.
You're not welcome here.
Stealing another man's game is illegal.
He was startled and jumped back.
I continued. If you take one more of my kills, I'll,
and then he cut me off.
He began to scream, almost some kind of war cry
while running towards me with his hatchet raised in the air.
I yelled, stop, no!"
In a panic. He was about 75 feet away from me. Time seemed to slow down and I realized
I had the upper hand in this situation. I drew my handgun and I yelled at him twice.
Stop, or I'll shoot. He ignored my warnings.
I pulled the trigger once after he gained 30 feet of ground towards me.
A shot rang out in the night.
I saw the wide, crazed eyes of this filthy man grow even wider, as he shifted from rage
to fear almost instantly.
He slid to his stop, and then fell on his butt, then quickly got back up to his feet.
He grunted as he disappeared into the woods, still holding onto his hatchet with his left
hand, and in his right hand, he held his shoulder.
I kept my gun drawn, and pointed at him, until he became fully obscured by the trees.
I'm pretty sure I hit him, but I'm glad I did not kill him. I filed
a police report that morning after a frightened walk back to my house, the police turned up
nothing as the footprints led to a road that had been plowed shortly after the incident.
What I found strange was that the footprints went on for three miles both ways before they
headed dead end.
I stopped trapping for the rest of the winter and began again the following year with no
incident.
I think I scared the strange woodsmen's straight.
With that said, to the poacher in the woods, let's not meet again.
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forward slash let's not meet podcast. This week you have heard, Work Stalker by Mrs. Adams,
Shadow by Sam, Don't Take the Early Shift by Molly.
And finally, Hair is Enhatched by a listener that asked to remain anonymous. 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.
If you want to send a story in, send it to Let's Not Meet Stories at gmail.com.
Next week we'll be doing another edition of the Lost Stories for our Christmas Special.
I look forward to seeing you all then. Stay safe! I'm a 24-year-old woman from the Midwest.
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