Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Sleep Won't Come

Last Christmas, my parents were visiting me and at about 3 in the morning I hear this bloodcurdling shriek. I jumped out of bed and saw a man outside my back door. I realized that some men were trying to break in so I opened and shut the window real quick to set the alarm off. Luckily my husband had his cell phone next to our bed so he called 911.

While he was calling I started yelling for my parents to run to our bedroom. As I was yelling to them there was a loud gunshot and my mom stopped screaming. At this point I thought that they had gotten into the house and shot my mom. I started to run to their room but my husband stopped me (I was holding our 1 year old son). We didn't know what to do.

We thought that they had gotten into our house and there was still a man standing at our only exit. Finally I heard my mom yelling my name and her and my dad ran to our bedroom. They were fine, there was a man that had been crawling through their window but had jumped back out when the alarm went off. The police finally got there and as we walked around the house and saw that the man standing at my back door had shot through the door with a shotgun. The wall facing the door was full of holes from the pellets.

Luckily, we were all ok but I didn't sleep well for months after. Sometimes I still wake up in a panic.

A few weeks after this happened my husband was away on business. My son was sleeping with me again and at about 1 in the morning I heard a loud crash and the alarm went off. I thought the men had come back and shot through the door again. I locked myself in the bathroom with my son and called 911. When the police arrived we walked around the house and couldn't figure out what happened. Finally we saw that a shelf had collapsed in the kitchen and all the dishes had broken, setting of the alarm. These days I try to sleep, but sleep won't come.

You Look Like My Daughter

I was on her way over to the house of a guy I'd been seeing. While driving, I notices an old red Ford truck, like from the 60's, behind me and I'm a girly girl and scare eaisly, so I start to get freaked out when it becomes pretty clear that it's following me.

The guy I was seeing lived in the mountains, out of city limits, and I had to take a few rural roads to get to him.  The chances that this old truck were following me were pretty damn good.

I pull in my guy friend's driveway and the red truck pulls in behind me, blocking me so I can't back out.  I watch in my rearview mirror as an old man, early 60's I'd guess, gets out of the truck.  He stands by his truck looking at my car, and then starts walking toward me.  I slam down the locks, and fumble for my cellphone.  The grissled man comes up to the window (it was cracked about an inch) and mumbles something about them having similar license plates. At this point, I'm really freaked out and I call the guy I'm visiting.  He answers and I'm crying telling him to come outside and help me.

As I wait for my friend, the old man lifts his hands to the window and shows me a rope he has. He asks if I knows of a good places to walk his dog. She looks back toward his truck - there's no dog. At this point, my friend opens his front door with a baseball bat in hands and confronts the old man.  Immediately the old man starts to retreat. My friend chases him back into his car and the old man talks to my friend as he's backing away toward his truck.  The old guy gets in his truck and drives off. 

My friend walked back to my car and I ask him what the old guy was saying to him.  My friend told me "He said you looked like his daughter."

10 Creepiest Abandone Water Parks


This is a very cool website in general, but it's even more cool right now because they have an article about the 10 creepiest abandoned water parks on earth.  I know you're all fans of a good fright, so go check it out!

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Late Night Camp Visitor

Me and my friends had just finished exams to close out our junior year at CS: Northridge and decided to go camping in Yosemite (or thereabouts) before we all had to start summer jobs. There were seven of us, three girls and four guys, including me, my friend J, and her boyfriend D.

We took two cars with the guys in the lead car and us girl traveling behind. They pulled off into the first campsite they could find because it was getting dark and they wanted to set up tents in an area they could clearly see. We all hiked into a field near a pine forest and set up our tents before we fanned out to start finding kindling for a fire. J felt uneasy and decided to stay at camp while everyone else searched.

When we returned, J was agitated but not enough for us all to be concerned. We assumed she didn't like the location of the campsite or that she was having problems with D or that she just wasn't fond of camping. We built a fire and sang worship songs (they were all involved in local churches).

After singing and joking around we went to bed. The boys went in one tent and the three of us girls slept in the another. Sometime during the night our tent was unzipped and someone slipped in and crawled up parallel to J. I thought it was D trying to wake J and talk to her about something because I could feel her body moving like she was being shaken awake.

I told D that he couldn't be in here, and that if he needed to talk to J, he should do it in the morning. Her body stopped moving, and D slinked out. I quickly fell back asleep.

The next morning we all woke up, and made breakfast but realized J wasn't with us. We called to her but she didn't come out of the tent. I asked D what he said to her last night. D said that he told her that once they started hiking and exploring, she would enjoy camping. I responded, "'Why did you have to tell her that in the middle of the night?'" He cocked his head to the side like [our dog used to do when he was confused], and replied, "'No, I told her that at dinner. The only time I got up last night was to pee."

Skeptical, I went into the tent to ask J myself. She was on her left side facing the wall of the tent. I grabbed her shoulder and rolled her onto her back. Her sleeping bag was spongy and wet with blood. She had been stabbed in the chest several times. They still don't know who did it"

Don't Work at Gas Stations

I used to work graveyards at a Circle K in a northern CA college town. CA law states that no alcohol can be sold between 2-6 am. At about 2:45 am, a couple of guys come into the store, go to the cooler to grab a couple of 18 packs of shit-beer (Coors, Keystone...can't remember now). I tell the 'leader' of the duo that it's after 2, I can't sell the beer to him. As he starts getting irate, I offer him a free coffee, soda, candy bar, but I can't sell the beer. (Cops and management had been all over our asses for questionable sales) The leader gets the 1000-yard stare in his eyes and proceeds to start reaching for the small of his back, at which point his buddy says, "Stop, man. It's not worth it." The leader smiled at me and winked and said "See you soon..." and left.

Two days later I got fired for telling the regional dickhead that 2 people needed to be on at night(and a few other things) so my assistant manager had to cover my shift. That night he was robbed and had the shit knocked out of him by a guy that fit the description of the tool I'd dealt with a few nights before.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Seriously, What is Wrong with People

I was about 12 years old. We were heading home through Branson, MO after I had just spent a week at a summer camp. I, having eaten a massive week-end feast had to drop a deuce so we stopped at one of the outlet malls. As I'm rushing in to the bathroom, I notice this fat old guy kind of creepily looking at me and smiling but fuck it, people are weird and I gotta poop! So I rush in, quickly inspect for the cleanest stall, and begin the ritual.

About 30 seconds later, I hear the bathroom door open and some movement. I ignore it because people use the bathroom all the time. But something seems a bit off.
I finish pooping, and notice there's a figure outside my stall. I look at the crack between the door and see AN EYEBALL. The dude was staring at me... I made eye contact. And then I just froze out of fear and began tearing up a little.

He move away from the crack. shuffled slowly into the stall next to me. I begin wiping VERY quickly (no easy task... damn camp food). Then I see his hand, slowly, inching, under, the, stall, divider. I outright nearly begin to cry at this point.

His hand makes this creepy-as-fuck "come hither" motion with his index finger (I've got goosebumps as I type this, btw), when suddenly something just fucking SNAPS in me.

I stand up, fasten my pants, and proceed to STOMP THE EVER LOVING SHIT OUT OF THIS MOTHERFUCKERS FINGER.
And then I ran. Fast.

When I got to my parents I finally look back and see this creepy fuck hurriedly waddling out of the bathroom clutching his finger.

Chrisitans with Guns

My brother and his friends, went out to toilet paper one of their ex girlfriends, and were walking through the fields to get there (we live in rural michigan). They walked in front of this really creepy run down trailer, and once they passed it they heard people stirring in the house.

The people who occupied this house, thought their house was going to get messed up. so as a natural reaction to such a thing, all the guys in the house break out their shotguns, and hop in their truck, and combine and start to run down my brother and his friends.

The group gets split up, one trying to dodge the truck, and one trying to dodge the combine. The group my brother was in (the one getting chased by the combine) ended up hiding in a field laying in the beans, so the people couldn't see them.

The combine circled the field for an hour, using its spotlight to search for his brother and his friends, and the people driving took many pot shots at the field with their shotguns. Once they left my brother was able to get someone to come pick him and his friends up.
It ends up the people getting chased by the truck, were also shot at with shotguns but at much closer range. (thankfully no one was hurt).

Fast forward two years later, we see that same house on the news, it was the home base of the Hutaree (the possible domestic terrorist group who planned on killing cops, but were busted by the FBI in a crazy raid). Im sure all of you Americans saw it on the news.

I dont know why we never reported the whole incident to the police. My brother said the whole experience was pretty terrifying.

The Hutaree

Foot Fetish Fun

This didn't happen to me, but it happened to my cousin who was about 30 years old at the time. She was walking out of a Meijer 24 hour store late at night and she noticed there was a strange guy following close behind her. When she looked back he said hello, and asked her if she would take off her shoes and let him give her a foot massage. So she started to walk faster, and then he asked something about giving him some toenail clippings. At that point she was both grossed out and creeped out. She started running and slipped off one shoe and pulled off a sock and threw it back at him just before getting in her car and locking the doors. This must have been enough to satisfy this creeps foot fetish because he grabbed it and quickly wandered off. We tease her about it now, but it's still very strange.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Random Abuse

This is probably way to late in the thread to get any reads, but it will be good to get this off of my chest. It's not the scariest situation I've been in by far but probably one that unnerved me for the longest period of time, causing me years of panic attacks and fear of travelling alone.

In NYC on a train heading from Brooklyn to the city, a stop or two before the bridge, in the middle of the day, enough of a packed car to occupy all seats with some people standing... I was sitting down, when this huge man walked by and stopped right in front of me. He didn't look homeless, just some angry dude that must have been doped out of his mind on crack, cocaine, or some combination of both. He was dressed in clean street clothes, but had an open bottle of beer in one hand and a lit cig in the other.

Never since have I ever seen anyone that angry, and part of me really believed this man was out to kill someone. He happened to pick me. I was 16 years old, and not dressed in any provocative way, actually something similar to this but the guy just stopped right in front of me and proceeded to spew the most racial sexist insults. I tried not to let it affect me, but after having this guy inches away from my face screaming how all white women are whores and they should be put under ground, for what seemed like eternity, I let it eat me up inside. Normally I would react and say something, but that day I stood quiet only whispering a "please leave me alone". I even carried a pocket knife on me, but some part of me just felt that this guy was going to murder me right then and there if I even moved the wrong way.

In the end he got off the train first, but not before throwing his lit cigarette at me and splashing the beer on the floor so it would hit me. The thing that bothered me the most is that not a single person did a thing. Not one. Most people looked away, except one guy who when asked by the man if he agreed that "cunts like me should get raped and murdered" the guy nodded yes. Yes. I lost faith in humanity in a big way that day. After the menacing man left, a girl sat next to me to ask if I was ok, I told her it was no big deal being NY and all... but two minutes later I stepped off the train and couldn't stop shaking and crying for half an hour. It affected me for years to come, I think because I was very young and in a bad place as it was.

Now... I couldn't care less. I would punch that dick in the nuts he probably doesn't have anyway.

A Brotherhood of Thieves

Many years back I was driving along rather late at night on a road near the hospital I was interning at, in a shady part of Detroit (back when the city was even more dangerous). There were only a few cars on the road at that time, and at that time I had been living there for only a few months so I did not knew about most of the dangers that were present in that city (people buying old cop cars and "pulling over" people and robbing them, people jacking cars that were stopped at red lights, etc).

Anyway, my damn car's tire suddenly gets wrecked and I manage to pull to the side of the road. It was late, in one of the many bad parts of town, but I did not really understand that at the time (I am not a native of the city) so I got out and get ready to change my tires (I was not a member of the AAA). I was working on the back tire that was shredded when suddenly another car pulled up and stopped right in front of my car. I assumed he was there to help me (stupid), so I got up to talk to him. The man in the other car got out, and proceeded to walk over and crouch near my front tire with some tools, and started to take the tire off.
I was rather confused at this, so I ask the man, "Hey, what are you doing?".

He stopped to turn to me, face completely serious, and said "You take the back tires and the radio, I'll take the front tires and the battery, fair."

I took me a moment to register that he was indeed stealing my tires, so I just blurt out without thinking, "This is my car".

The other guy stopped, stared at me for a few seconds, then picked up his tools, got in his car, and left. I finished changing the tires, and only a few minutes later did I realize how dangerous it was being alone by a car on a dark stretch of road in the bad part of town.

That does not mean it was not funny in retrospect, though.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Road Rage Gone Bad

When I was a sophomore in high school, a friend would drive me home. One day we went to a record store with two other friends, and on the way back to drop me off, this guy in a truck passed us like an asshole, narrowly missing our car and oncoming traffic. We decide it'd be fun to follow him for a bit. So he turns onto another road shortly after and immediately pulls up to a mailbox and starts retrieving his mail. As we pass him, all four of us flip him off out the window and continue driving down the road.

About a half mile later, we see the same vehicle driving insanely fast behind us. He tailgates us for a bit while we start to panic a little. We start to slow down for a stop sign, and the guy whips around us and cuts us off, slamming on his brakes in front of us. We wait for just a moment, and he steps out of his car with a crow bar. We drive around him, but there's a stop sign in front of us so we had to pause briefly. The guy runs towards my door (the rear passenger door) and grabs for it when my friend takes off.

We're flying down this road, hoping to lose him. We make another turn on to a really busy street and we think we've lost him. We turn again and drive normally for a few miles, and at this point we're convinced we're safe. We pull up to another intersection and are waiting in the right-turn lane, when we look behind us, and two or three cars behind us is the same dude, in the turning lane, flashing his headlights on and off.
We make our turn and speed down the road, but so does the other guy. He speeds around us and slams on his brakes again, forcing us to stop. We try to go around him but he keeps maneuvering so we can't get around. Eventually we stop and I say something stupid like, "maybe he just wants to talk to us." So he's straddling both lanes of the road and gets out of his car with his crowbar in hand and a terrifying look on his face. My friend drives off the road, gets around the dude, and we speed away. He of course does the same and is driving like a fucking maniac, but so are we, so we maintain a bit of a lead on him.

We make another turn and there's a school bus in front of us, just about to stop. We speed around it just in time for the bus' stop sign to extend, and for some reason, the dude actually stops behind the bus, and we speed off.

We were close to another friend's house, so we pull into their driveway and into the open garage. We're all terrified at this point, so we run inside and watch out the window for this asshole. He did drive past the house, but thank god we were parked in the garage so he didn't see the car

Drugged in India

I was in India for work, staying at a fairly nice hotel. I don't do this often - I usually like to head straight to the room and order room service while watching a movie - but I decided to have a drink at the lobby bar.
I had a drink on my own, there was no one else around in the bar and I made small talk with the bar tender. I ordered another drink and decided to use the bathroom. I was gone a couple of minutes and when I got back I noticed that my drink (scotch and dry) had a cloudy white rim at the top which isn't normally there. On closer inspection, the cloudy froth was settling into a powdery residue on the side of the glass.

I asked the bar tender what was wrong with the drink and he at first acted like he didn't notice anything. I was suspicious now and kept at it until he acknowledged he saw something - I mean, it was obvious, there was this froth 2-3mm around the glass.

Then he said that it always happens and its nothing. I then looked him directly in his eyes and asked, did he put anything in my drink. It's hard to explain, but his response, though it was no, told me everything I needed to know. So I made out like I was more curious than anything, and asked him whether he would taste it. He said no and said he would pour me another. I declined and said I would drink it, but i just wanted him to tell me if it was off or not.

All this while, there was this awkward vibe where we both knew the jig was up but we were pretending like this wasn't happening. I paid up and left the drink where it was, locked and latched my door, the whole time picturing myself lying in a bath of ice, sans organs.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Put Your Sword Away

I'm hitch hiking for the first time ever in Jacksonville, FL. As I wait by the side of the road in the cool morning air, a black honda civic spots me and swerves across two lanes of rush hour traffic, screeches to a halt, and offers me a ride. A savvy, street smart person would think, "A normal person would never go through so much effort to pick up a hitch hiker. Fuck this guy." As a naive and sheltered middle class beardless boy I think, "Awesome, a ride."

So I hop in. I look at this son of a bitch, past his innocent chubby cheeks into his beady eyes and say, "THANKS!" He lingers in silence and lounges in the driver seat like someone in a recliner watching 2.5 men wishing he were brave enough to hang himself. The comic book guy doppleganger mutters, "This is a terrible place to hitch hike, all the traffic is going downtown for work. I'll take you to a better exit down the freeway." This is the point where my comfort in the car declines exponentially.
We begin small talk. And after a few minutes he starts rubbing his weiner through his jeans. I see this in my peripheral and I'm not quite sure what this blurry circular motion is. So I quick peek. And the gravity of the situation dawns on me. He's revving up for the big race. I hide my pepper spray on the far side of my body and try to distract him from the impending penis reveal. So I rapid fire ask him questions, "What's your favorite book? What's your favorite movie? Do you like 2% milk?"

He swats my questions away with grunts and disinterest and increases the RPMs. I watch him to make sure he doesn't reach for a gun. I consider pepper spraying him if he does something threatening, but pepper spraying a driver at 70 mph entails mutually assured destruction. My mind races. Then with incredible slight of hand the dick magician releases the main attraction and his dick houdinis its way from captivity. He looks at me with a faint smirk. Silence lingers and I look straight ahead. His fleshy member wanders about freely. I see all of this in my peripheral. It takes a lot of courage to look at a grown man's dick dead on, courage I didn't have. My heart beats quickly, loudly.

He breaks the silence, "Does this make you nervous?" I reply immediately, "Hell yea it does. Are you kidding me? This is not a part of my every day life, man." He flares his nostrils and says, "Good answer. I just had some really good times when I was hitch hiking at your age and figured you might want to, you know, jerk off for me." So I chime in with a "No thanks, that's not my thing. Can you drop me off and put your wang away?" His face reddens with embarrassment as if his high school sweet heart just turned him down, "Yeah." He sheaths his sword of omens.

So he drops me off. I get out of the car and my nervousness falls away. I fall to the ground laughing. How ridiculous. What a way to start my hitching adventure across the country. On some level I respect him though. It's hard enough to talk to strangers or ask someone on a date let alone whip your dick ou

Scary Night in Mexico

I used to go to the University of Arizona in Tucson. One night some friends and I decided to go to Agua Prieta, Mexico, which is across from Douglas, Arizona. Agua Prieta is a shithole of a town. I met some Mexican friends and a few girls we knew at this club. After the club was closed, most of our other friends left and I was standing outside talking to one of the girls from the club and a bunch of other drunk Mexicans started yelling at me calling me gringo, cabron, pendejo, the usual insults. I speak Spanish so I knew what they were saying.

They started walking towards me throwing beer bottles and on the other side of the street, a few policemen with shotguns drawn started walking towards me as well. The situation did not look very good at all. Me against about 12 people plus who the fuck knows what the police were going to do.

I turned around and ran as fast as I could towards the border with beer bottles whizzing past me and breaking near my feet. Luckily I got to the border without getting my ass kicked or hit by any bottles. By the time I got the US border, the US border guards saw the people and police following me and basically told me I was lucky to get out of there alive. I never went back down there. Fuck that. A few months later, a Mexican American friend of ours was killed down there.

Subway Creeper

I live in NYC and work the graveyard shift. I get out about 4-5am every night. So I'm on the subway and I jump on the 1 train and there is this guy sitting alone with a fedora and a trench coat. we're the only two in the car.

I look at him right before I step on and we make eye contact. His eyes are bloodshot and crossed and I hesitate right before getting on and he notices clearly. I get on anyway and walk down to the complete opposite side of the car. I'm bigger than him (he's a small fat, pale white, middle aged bald guy) but he is just staring me down and hasn't taken his hands out of his pockets.

He has his eyes locked on me and it's making me uncomfortable so I just turn and start staring at him (thinking he might look away quickly). Instead, he stands up. I immediately stand up too and we are just standing at either end of the car looking at each other.

As we're pulling up to the next stop, I walk up to the door like I'm getting off. The car stops and the doors open (still no one in sight) and I jump off the train. He jumps off too. I wait for the Ding! the doors make before closing and jump back in right as they close. He doesn't make it. As the train starts to pull out this guy just stares me down through the glass. I waved goodbye with a big shit eating grin.

Empty Eyesocket Pervert

I used to live next to an eye hospital. One day, walking home, I was stopped by an old man who clearly had trouble seeing. He asked me to help him across the road to the hospital. I agreed, and he grabbed hold of my hand very tightly. At this point I noticed his fingers were stained brown from tobacco, covered in scabs, and his fingernails were very long and dirty. I started to think that my good deed for the day would be a bit regrettable.

When we got to the other side of the road he still had my hand grasped so tightly I couldn't politely pull away. "Do you want to see my eye?" he said. One of his eyes was squeezed shut. With his free hand he pulled the lids apart and I realised to my horror that he had no eyeball just an empty socket. I started babbling (still trying to be polite) about how that was very interesting, but I had to go.

Then he uttered the immortal words: "Do you want to put your finger in there?" He was pulling really hard on my hand trying to force my fingers into his empty eye socket.

At this point I gave up on politeness and struggled my hand free (it was difficult, he was really strong) and just ran for it. I could hear him laughing as I ran off.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Creepy Flasher

One time, I got a flat very late at night, so I pulled in to a gas station. I tried putting air in my tire, but the valve broke off as I tried, causing the tire to completely deflate.

I was standing outside my car, talking to AAA when a large, older black man approached me. He disregarded the fact that I was on the telephone, and asked if I needed help. A little weirded out, I smiled politely and thanked him, but told him I had AAA and they would take care of me. He insisted that he would help me, and gestured towards a silver car parked in the shadows, telling me he would drive me anywhere. I again thanked him, and told him no. He then said he was there to buy a soda and did I want anything? At this point I was fed up and a little scared, so I firmly told him he needed to go buy his soda, and I was going to get into my car now.

He walked off, I locked myself in the car, and the dispatcher at AAA, who had been on the phone for the entire conversation, asked if I wanted her to call the police. I told her no, it was fine. I didn't want to come off as racist. God I was an idiot. I've since learned the difference between racism and looking out for your personal well being. "Well," the woman from AAA said, "You might not think you're in any danger, but I'm concerned, so I'm bumping you to the top of the list."

We hung up, and I sat in the car, bored. At this point, I noticed my new friend had come out of the store and was standing about 20 feet from my car, staring at me. I thought this was very bizarre, and I started feeling a little nervous. I made sure my doors were safely locked. Over the next 20 minutes or so, I would take sidelong glances in his direction to see if he was still there. Eventually, he disappeared, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

Then, suddenly, I saw him again- he had stepped back inside the store and was crouched behind a window cling, staring directly at me. This was too much- racism or no, I was fucking freaked out. I called 911.

"911, what is your emergency?"
I explained the situation, and that I was scared.
"Ok, I'll dispatch an officer to you immediately."
"Oh, no, that won't be necessary, I don't want to waste anyone's time. Could you please just stay on the phone with me until the tow truck gets here? That way, if he approaches me again, I can show him I'm on the phone with the police."
"Alright...sweetheart, can you tell me exactly where you are?"
"Sure. I'm at the Hess on Colonial and...Mercy Drive, it looks like."
The dispatcher paused.

"Miss, I don't mean to alarm you, but I need to let you know- you are currently stranded at one of the most dangerous intersections in the country. I'm dispatching an officer immediately, you need to promise that you won't exit your car for any reason and do NOT hang up the phone until either a police officer or your tow truck is there."

So, I stay on the phone, nervous, but not really thinking anything would happen. I would occasionally glance back at the store to see if Mr. Creeper was still there...until, finally, he disappeared!
I told the dispatcher, very relieved by this turn of events when suddenly-- the man somehow appeared in front of my car! He was walking right towards me, straight into my headlights! He reached down to adjust his pants when- BAM.

Yeah, that's right. He pulled his penis out.

I burst into tears and started shouting into the phone what was happening. I averted my eyes to the steering wheel, not wanting to look at it.

Now, since I was looking at my steering wheel, it came as quite a surprise when he appeared at my passenger door and tried to force his way in. Adrenaline is a funny thing- no longer was I a broken victim. I was pissed.
I started screaming all sorts of obscenities at him. I told him I was on the phone with the FUCKING police, and they were going to put his ass in JAIL. I called him a bastard, a son of a bitch, a cunt. The poor 911 dispatcher must have thought I opened my door to scream at him, so she in turn was screaming at me to shut the door and wait for the cops.

After maybe 3 minutes of screaming at him, he seemed to realize I wasn't responding favorably to his attempts at wooing the gentle lady that I am. He strolled towards some gas pumps about 10 feet away, and stayed there.

Several minutes after that, the tow truck rolls in. A gentlemen got out of the truck, and started heading my way. He noticed I wasn't getting out of my car to greet him, so he pointed at his hat, which proudly stated AAA.

He got right up to my car door, and I shook my head violently, refusing to get out. I cracked the door open, and his face changed- he saw that I had tears running down my cheeks and mascara smeared under my eyes.
I explained quickly what had happened, nodding towards the man calmly standing by the gas pumps. He had put his dick away at this point. I saw the tow truck driver's face harden. "Did that motherfucker hit you?"

He thought the smeared mascara was, in fact, a set of black eyes. I shook my head, no.
"Lock your doors and tell the police to get there fucking asses here NOW. I'm going to make sure this shit head doesn't leave."

I watched him walk over to Mr. Creeper, and held my breath, expecting fists to be thrown. Instead, I saw what looked like a very cordial conversation. I found out after that he decided to pleasantly ask for directions to keep him here.

Suddenly, we heard sirens. Mr. Creeper wildly looked in the direction of the sound, then directly at me, then glared at my Knight in Rusty Armor. He realized he had been tricked.

The police showed up, he was handcuffed, and I had to write the mother of all witness statements. They searched him, and it turns out he had a crack pipe on him, and that he was under the influence of cocaine.
So yeah. That's my story. It wasn't pleasant, but I'm glad it happened to me and I was able to get him arrested. I shudder to think what would have happened to some other poor girl if he had gone free that night.

Creepy Bookstore

I was driving home from a cousin's graduation party, and I took a wondering route home through back-roads I had never been on.  On my way home I and came across a book store in a tiny town in the woods. The book store was actually a house, where the front of the home had been converted into a store. There was a box on the porch that said "50 cent books!" so I stopped to see if there were any Stephen King books in there.

As I'm in the shop, a middle aged woman comes out through a door with a huge smile, and gives me a bowl of fruit and some tea. I'm thinking to myself, "this place is awesome!" and rifle through books while eating the fruit and downing the tea.

Inside the store/home, there were a lot of cool art books and stuff, so I spent some more time in there. She brought me more tea. Even when I said, "no thank you, that's plenty," she kept refilling. Gave me dessert too - brownies and cookies.

I didn't realize it at the time, but she was drugging me. It's hazy to remember the details, but at some point, she closed the shop, telling me to take my time looking at the books. She told me that she was going to go take a shower, and was gone for a while. When I was ready to pay, I had to wander back through her house to find her.

I found her in her bedroom. She was in bed. I'm pretty sure she was naked. At the time, I thought "weird, she's watching an exercise video in bed?" but later realized she was watching porn.
You might think this is hot, but it isn't. She was my Mom's age, and had been telling me how she reminded me of her kids in college.

So... NOT hot.

I told her I was ready to pay, and she told me how to open the register, so I went and opened it, put in what I thought I owed, took out the change, and left.

When I stumbled outside, a fire engine drove by, screaming with sirens. In the distance was the glow of a big forest fire, and the stars were being covered by smoke. A tall man on a horse watched the fire truck pass. He looked right at me, took a piece of wood or something out of his mouth, and said, "town's burnin'."
I swear to God I have a crystal clear memory of this happening, even though I'm sure it couldn't have. By this point, I guess I was seriously tripping balls on something. I'm not a drug guy, so I don't know what I had, but I was out of my mind and could hardly walk.

I got back in my car, and drove home, stupid I know, but what could I do, along twisting roads on tall cliffs above the ocean. Twice I realized I was on the wrong side of the road. One of the times I realized this because a massive truck was headed straight for me, laying on the horn and flashing it's lights. I kept thinking about how my car could be like an airplane AND a submarine if I drove it off the cliff. I can't believe I made it home alive.
Later I realized I was in that house for about 4 hours looking at books.
At least that's what I hope to HELL I was doing.


College Paranoia

During finals week at college I was at the library studying late.  I left the library pretty close to midnight and decided to carry my laptop to my car which was a block and a half away down a side street. The street was vacant and I was completely alone. My phone ran out of juice earlier in the night, and I did feel a little creeped out but it the area was pretty well lit, so I figured I'd be okay.

As I was walking, a sketchy pickup truck drove the opposite way and slowed way down to get a look at me.  I was too scared to look at the driver, so I didn't get a description of him.  The truck did a k-turn behind me and started following me up the street.

I immediately stopped, let it pass, and stood by a lamp post until it made a turn (down the street where my car was). I went back to the library and asked public safety to walk me to my car. As we got closer, the truck that had been following me was idle in the space directly behind my car and sped off down the street as soon as he saw me and the cop.

I almost didn't go back and get public safety because I felt I was being too paranoid. Note: Never be "too paranoid."

Unsafe at Work

I used to work graveyards at a Circle K in a northern CA college town. CA law states that no alcohol can be sold between 2-6 am. At about 2:45 am, a couple of guys come into the store, go to the cooler to grab a couple of 18 packs of shit-beer (Coors, Keystone...can't remember now). I tell the 'leader' of the duo that it's after 2, I can't sell the beer to him.

As he starts getting irate, I offer him a free coffee, soda, candy bar, but I can't sell the beer. (Cops and management had been all over our asses for questionable sales) The leader gets the 1000-yard stare in his eyes and proceeds to start reaching for the small of his back, at which point his buddy says, "Stop, man. It's not worth it." The leader smiled at me and winked and said "See you soon..." and left.

Two days later I got fired for telling the regional dickhead that 2 people needed to be on at night(and a few other things) so my assistant manager had to cover my shift. That night he was robbed and had the shit knocked out of him by a guy that fit the description of the tool I'd dealt with a few nights before. Narrowly avoided getting a shotgun shoved in my face, but a friend wound up with it instead.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Wild NIght in the Woods

Years ago, when I was a much younger pup than I am now, I thought I was invincible, and I used to enjoy backpacking at night.  If the sky was clear and there was a large moon, I wouldn't even bring a flashlight.

 There was something freeing in the limited way I could take in the world through my eyes.  My other senses were freed to run wild.  I could hear better, smell better, feel the air and the ground underfoot better. 
There are many reasons why most people don't backpack at night.  If you're familiar with the woods in the slightest, then you probably could explain to me why my hobby was in fact very stupid.  It is very easy to get lost while hiking at night.  You could trip, twist an ankle, and then what would you do?  That, however, wasn't what finally stopped by from hiking alone at night. I stopped because it's at night that the woods come alive.
I was hiking a short trail in a national forest. It was a trail I'd hiked many times before.  I had a light pack on my back with just the essentials: tent, sleeping bag, food and some water.   

The trail was a three mile loop, and I knew it by heart.  I was about 1.5 miles in when I heard a rustling in the underbrush near the trail.  I don't live in bear territory, and there was very little animal life in the woods I frequented that could harm me.  So, I wasn't worried.  I figured it would be a opossum, though it sounded larger,  or possibly a raccoon. 

I paused, and watched for a moment, and the sound stopped.  After a few more seconds, I turned to continue, but when I turned around there was a dog on the trail. 
 He was some sort of mutt, and he was big, around German Sheppard size.  His hackles were raised and he growled.  Then suddenly I was surrounded by another five or six dogs, of various sizes and breeds.  They were all growling and barking and generally pissed off.  

At that point I was scared.  I had a walking stick that I used, and old hockey stick cut to size, but it was my only option as a weapon. At that point, an idea came to me.
                I took a swing at a dog to my right and he easily dodged out of reach.  However, when he dodged my swing a hole opened in their perimeter and I snuck through, jumped, grabbed a low hanging tree branch, and pulled myself up.   

The dogs barked, and growled, and leaped at branch on which I was perched.  I climbed a couple branches higher, and watched in disbelief as they ripped apart my discarded backpack.
                The wild pack of dogs didn't stay long around the tree in which I perched.  They seemed to realize they couldn't get to me and they trotted off.  

I slept in the tree until morning.  From the safety of the tree I searched the woods around in all directions, but saw no sign of any dogs.  In the daylight all things seem safer, so I hopped to the ground, gathered up the remains of my pack and walked back to the trail head and my car.  
                 I stopped by the ranger station on my way back home and notified them of what happened.  It was the first they'd heard of the dogs, and for the next several months when I'd go hiking, in the day time, there were posters up at trail heads warning hikers and campers of the wild pack of dogs.  I haven't had any problems since my experience, but I also don't hike at night anymore.

Monday, August 15, 2011

The Blob

{Staff note: We at Alone at Night don't normally publish ghost stories. Frankly, we just don't believe in them, but since this submitter is a follower of the site and kind enough to write their story up, and because we haven't had many submissions lately, we're going to let this one slide. So, thanks to Aidan for submitting this one and for being a loyal Alone at Night follower.}

When I was in the 3rd grade my mother moved us into a decent sized new house. Although I got used to the move very quickly, I didn't like being downstairs alone. As soon as I would get to the bottom of the stairs the air would feel thick, like I was being watched. Now, in our house, our dining room was directly above our living room. In the dining room we had 4 metal chairs, that when they moved against our hardwood floors they made a very distinct and loud scraping sound. After a couple of months in the house, virtually every time we'd be in the living room watching TV, and only at night, we would hear the sound of our chairs being moved across the floor. And this wasn't a quiet little scrape here and there that could be our cats or something. This was a loud, nonstop, unmistakable movement for 5-10 minutes. The first time it happened we were freaked out and ran upstairs to see what was happening, but there wasn't a chair out of place. We went back downstairs and not a minute after we sat back down it started again. After a while it still weirded us out, but we'd just turn up the volume on the TV till it was done. The sounds eventually stopped after we began ignoring them.

But then we started seeing really weird things. Now, my kitchen was upstairs and parallel to the top of the stairs, which gave me a clear view of my front door. On this particular day it was sunny and bright, so I had my front door wide open to let some light and fresh air in. When I went into the kitchen to get a drink from my fridge I turned my head to look downstairs and saw a shadow standing in front of my door. Keep in mind this isn't someone outside casting a shadow or anything, this was just a floating black blob that was maybe 6 feet tall. As soon as I saw it I opened the fridge, took a deep breath, then shut the door and looked back down to see if it was still there, which it wasn't. I bolted to my room and pretty much counted down the minutes till my mom got home. It wasn't a surprise to her, though, since she'd seen the blob several times before.

(Last story, I promise!) A little while after this happened I had a friend sleep over. I hadn't told her anything about the hauntings since I didn't want to scare her, and she lived hours away so we had no one in common that could tell her about the ghost. But one night she went to my kitchen to grab something to eat. As she was leaving the kitchen she looked down the stairs and saw the huge black shadow floating on the landing. It definitely freaked her out good, I can say that for sure.

We told our neighbor about the strange things going on, and apparently an old lady had died in the house. Since then we've moved to a new home, which has had disturbances of the criminal kind instead of paranormal.


Desert People

                Two summers ago, I took a trip across the western United States with my girlfriend.  We'd both quit our soul-crushing jobs and, almost on a whim, decided to drive across the country looking for adventure with the ultimate goal of finding jobs and eventually settling down in California.
                We were making our way to Carbeza Preita National Wildlife Refuge when, much to my chagrin, I realized we were almost out of fuel. We weren't too far from the small hamlet  of Ajo, about 100 miles south of Phoenix. I passed the idea of driving up there to get gas, but it was already late, and the girl and I decided to just camp, and pray that we had enough gas to get the car started the next morning and get us to Ajo.  We found a dusty gravel road leading off into the desert and drove just a short distance amongst the sparse desert hills until we were out of view from the road.
                We set up camp, sleeping bags but no tent, fire, the whole thing.  I remember we were eating top-ramen noodles and just really enjoying the sounds of the wild when my girl first heard the sound of tires traversing the gravel road.  Someone was coming.  Having encountered all sorts of people on our trip, both good and bad, neither my girl nor I were concerned at this point.  Then, slowly, a police cruiser comes around the bend.
                It is at this moment that I start to worry.  You see my gal and I enjoy the use of some recreational substances every once in a while, and though I'm pretty sure we've used all of our stash, at this point in time, I'm not 100% certain.  I'm a little nervous now.
                The cop walks up to us, hand on his pistol, and asks us to stand up.  He says he's received complaints, from a couple of campers in the area of people shooting guns off.  My girl and I explain that we don't have any guns and that it wasn't us.  The cop says he needs to check our car.  My heart drops.  If we have anything in there...
                Just as the officer opens the car door, and begin his search, his radio cuts in.  My girl and I both hear clearly when dispatch says they received another call saying the people are still shooting off their guns, just a few moments ago.  It can't be us the cop realizes, tells us to be safe, and then drives off.
                A few hours later my girl and I awake to what sounds like sixty people coming our way. We hear some gunshots, and cursing and laughter, the crush of feet, and a cacophony of voices and it is all getting closer. Freaked out now, the girl and I grab out sleeping bags and run to the car.  We jump in and as I put the keys in the ignition, I remember that we're almost out of gas.  I turn the key and the car starts.  I flip on the headlights and see a hoard of people rushing toward our car. 
                I don't know who they were, what they were doing, or what their plans were for my girl and I, but it sure a hell didn't look good.  I throw the car in reverse, turn around, and get the hell out of there.  We made it to Ajo, but all the gas stations were closed.  We parked in a small strip mall parking lot, and tried to get back to sleep.
                In the morning we bought gas, and I mention to the clerk as I'm paying for gas what happened to us last night, the clerk just laughs and then gives me this smile like he knew exactly what was going on, but he wasn't telling. 

Friday, August 5, 2011

Stephen King's IT

Hey, all! We thought we'd break from the scary stories to recommend a book, today.  Currently, we're reading Stephen King's IT for the first time.  I know, I know, you're asking "How can this be the first time you're reading IT?!"  Good question.  Answer: no idea.

If you haven't read IT, then we highly recommend it.  We're reading it before going to bed, and let us say we aren't letting our legs dangle off the bead anymore.

As always, thanks for taking the time to visit Alone at Night Scary Stories blog, and also for taking the time to comment on the stories, and submit your own true scary stories. 

Stay Safe and Get Scared

Alone at Night Staff

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Child Abuse (Mama's Little Girl)

{Below is an intense story of abuse by a parent. Story may be disturbing to our more sensitive audience. - AAN staff note}

More terrifying than an insane stranger is when the person you're most afraid of is family.  The intimacy and inescapable bond of blood brings the terror to deeply personal levels that scary neighbors, ex boyfriends or strangers can not reach.  This is one of the more intense example of something that occurred constantly as I was growing up in the 80's. This is the story of my mom trying to kill me.
Ever since I was old enough to remember, my memories of my mother always involve pain and abuse, both physical and verbal.  She pushed me down the stairs, would torture me with water in the bathtub, and was all around emotionally abusive.  The worst part is that for many years no one else in my family believed me.
My family consisted of myself, my sister, and mom and dad.  From all outside appearances we were your average, happy, American family and I guess most of the time, most of us were.  The four of us attended church, my sister and even I managed good grades in school, and my dad had a steady job.  From outside no one would have suspected the horror I went through, not even those closest to me.
I'll tell you a couple examples of my childhood abuse; for several years when I was very young my mom would be the one to give me baths.  We didn't have a shower, so I took only baths.  My mom would make a game of holding me under the water while bathing me.  I can remember the shine in her eyes and the smile on her face as I struggled underneath her grip as the air left my little body.  Another time I was at the top of the stairs leading from the second flood to the first, and my mother came out of the bathroom, which was right next to the stairs, and the next thing I know I'm tumbling down the stairs head of heels.  I cracked my head on the television stand near the bottom of the steps, and I remember my mom claiming I was a klutz as she and dad took me to get stitches even though I know I was shoved.  These are just a couple examples of what was a decade long  life of torture.
On different occasions I tried telling both my sister and my dad about the sadistic actions of my mother.  My sister, only four years older than me, thought I was telling stories.  My dad thought maybe I was transferring abuse from somewhere else onto my mother.  He checked out teachers, and church officials, never willing to accept that it was his wife, my mother, inflicting such pain on me.
My family's attitude finally changed when my mom slipped up.   One afternoon, while my sister was at volleyball practice and my dad at work, I was doing homework in my bedroom.  Suddenly my mom burst into my room and grabbed me by the arm.  She said she wanted help ironing the clothes.  I knew what this meant as she had said this to me once before.  I struggled to get away from her, but I was still very young, around 7 or so, and my struggle just made her grip tighter.  She used the iron on my hand.  Later that evening my dad came home from work and saw the burns on my hand.  My mom explained that I was horsing around while she was ironing and that I knocked the iron onto my own hand.  Years later he would explain that this is the moment my dad began to become suspicious.  You see because of the earlier incident with the iron I have always been petrified of irons.  I wouldn't get anywhere near them and my dad knew this. 
Eventually  my dad and sister came to believe me, and the three of us left.  My dad, unable to provide any hard evidence to the police, thought it was best if we just get away from her.  He knew that if he filed for divorce that my mom would at least get some custody rights. So we ran. We lived on the move for the next several years.  Though we were unable to put down new roots, life for me was much better.  I knew that my sister and dad, however, weren't happy.  Finally, one year we decided to stay in a town.  My dad liked his job, and my sister and I had friends.  We didn't want to move anymore.  We figured it had been several years, and by now my mom must have stopped looking for us, if she ever did at all.  We were wrong.
I was 16 when my mom tried to kill me.  Walking home from school, I noticed right away that something was off when I arrived home.  At that moment I couldn't place what it was, but I would later realize that the sounds of the neighborhood were louder than normal and that it was because the backdoor to the house was open.  I set my backpack down, and walked to the refrigerator to get a pop.  I sat down at the kitchen table and saw the backdoor was open.  No one else would have been home at that time.  My sister would have been at class, at a local community college, and my dad would have been at work.  It could have been a number of things, a repairman my dad forget to tell me about, a burglar, or even I could have forgotten to shut the door before I left for school, but I knew it wasn't any of those things.  I knew it was my mother.
Still sitting at the kitchen table I didn't know what to do, call the cops, leave the house, or call my dad.  I didn't have time to consider my options because no sooner had I stood up then I hear my bedroom door open, and my mom walks through the living room toward me.  She's crying and saying how everything was my fault and it was always my fault.  Then she shoots me.
Six shots were fired, the police say, and the scars on my body say that three hit me.  In a miracle of luck the police were already on their way before I was shot.  My neighbor saw my mom break in to the house moments before I came home and had called the police.  They caught my mom and applied first aid until an ambulance arrived.  I don't remember any of this as I was thankfully unconscious after the second bullet hit me. 
My mom is in jail for attempted murder and isn't scheduled to get out for many more years.  My sister and my dad fully believe me and probably still feel horrible for not believing me when I was little..  I'm doing okay.  I'm married, but have no kids. 

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Crazy Neighbor

I used to spend a lot of time sleeping on couches. I'm actually kind of proud of that fact.  I wandered around for a year or so, living out of my car, and seeing all the highlights of Texas one friend's couch at a time.  I was free as a bird and loved every moment of it.

The time finally came when I found the inclination to have direction and structure in my life.  I called a friend in the city I wanted to settle down in for a while and requested the use of his couch until I could find a job and get on my feet. Lucky for me, he was obliging, so I high-tailed my care-free self to a comfy black leather couch in a suburb north of Houston.

As I was drifting to sleep that first night, I realized my peaceful dreams had some noisy competition. Wind chimes. My parents had a small set of them on our porch when I was a little girl, so ordinarily this would have been a soothing sound. This particular clatter, however, eerily drifted from below my friend's upstairs apartment, and sounded like the soundtrack to a cinematic kidnapping scene.
I discovered, upon the return of daylight, that the elderly lady below us was an avid collector of wind chimes and birdhouses, all proudly displayed in cramped, disorderly fashion on her back porch. These were not just cute "tinkling" wind chimes. No, some of them sounded like trash cans on strings. Others had larger pipes that rang with gong-like brassiness, and still others were wooden or bamboo that "ticked" and "tocked" unrythmically as they struck each other. Nestled into this cacophony was a miniature ghost town of birdhouses. Once cute country cottages, barns, and tiny apartment buildings, they were all beginning to succumb to fading paint, collapsing roofs, and mildew from Houston's humidity.

I eventually got used to the accompaniment, and even the unsettling sight of the birds' neglected homes, but I never got used to the lady who stood outside with her collection and stared off into space. At first she would look like a statue.  I would think I could sneak by her and she might not notice me before I could run up the stairs to the safety of my temporary black leather couch. It never failed, though, that as soon as I had just barely squeezed past her, she would call out to me in a feeble voice the most bizarre things.
"The ducks don't like me anymore!" she said one day. The next it was, "Have you seen my friend? He was supposed to be here tomorrow, and I've been waiting!" That was just the beginning. She eventually came out her front door and introduced herself to me, loudly announcing her first name and "I am bi-polar, I just thought you should know." This became a daily ritual for me: walk past the creepy back porch, ignore her random outbursts, then again be loudly reminded of her name and that I should know she was bi-polar.
Three months later, I had become a pro at dodging her. The area was blessed with lush foliage I could duck behind and around on my mission to avoid her. When her usual bi-polar announcement started leading into the command that I should trust Jesus, I started tossing rocks and sticks away from me to divert her attention. My couch-lending friend made fun of me for having a "new friend" and made sarcastic gestures such as leaving a camo shirt and face paint on my couch to aid with my "covert ops" he said.

My final run in with the wind chime lady occurred about a month before I moved away from the black leather couch. I stepped out the front door to smoke a cigarette, and there she was. Standing at the bottom of our stairs, she had a nasty bruise on her face, was more disoriented than usual and was pacing back and forth calling out "Help me! I need an ambulance!"

"Are you okay? Did you fall down?" I asked.

"Help me! I need an ambulance!" was all she would say. So I called 911 and helped her get into her apartment to sit down. Now, if I thought the musical back porch was creepy, going inside and letting the 911 dispatcher talk me through searching the apartment for any medications the paramedics needed to know about was a trip through a haunted house. Jesus was everywhere. Big pictures. Little pictures. framed ones, posters, tapestries, coffee mugs, throw pillows... Jesus' eyes peered at me from every nook and cranny. Jesus with children. Jesus healing people. Jesus dying. And dying again. And... again. And Jesus weeping. Probably because he died. There were hymns playing on a small stereo in the corner, and because Mother Nature has a sense of humor, it was windy so the symphony of wind chimes kept picking up volume.
I helped her sit down at the dining table, while she repeatedly reminded me to tell the doctors she was bi-polar. All of a sudden she declared at her usual volume that she needed to balance her checkbook. She pulled out all of her checks one by one, until they covered the table.  Demanding I help her balance her checkbook, she proceeded to grab a green marker and scribble "666" all over all the checks.

"Are you f***ing kidding me?!" I yelled.

"I HAVE TO BALANCE MY CHECKBOOK!" she screamed back at me, while the 911 operator patiently explained to me that I needed to remain calm in order for bi-polar Jesus wind chime lady to stay calm.

The paramedics arrived, and I realized the entire ordeal had taken place in under eight minutes.
"Props for quick response, guys," I told them. "I couldn't find any meds, but she's bi-polar, and I don't know how she got that bruise."


They stared in disbelief at the table of checks all bearing large foreboding "666" brands in green marker. A big smile spread across my face. Loud eerie wind chimes? A Jesus memorabilia infestation and echoing hymns? The "mark of the Devil"? I freaking love my life! And people question why I wanted to be a writer? The world is full of crazy things and people just waiting to be documented.

Monday, July 25, 2011

The Scariest Places on Earth

We here at Alone at Night loves us some Cracked.com  Linked is one of our favorite cracked articles all about the scariest places on earth.  Check it out.


Thursday, July 21, 2011

Funny Thing Voyeur Voyeur Voyeur Voyeur

Hello Alone at Night audience.  Thanks for visiting. I wanted to share a funny thing I've noticed.  One neat thing about using "Blogger" is that the blog administrators can see a lot of neat information about the visitors to the blog, such as which country the visitors are from, which posts people are looking at and even what search engine key words brought a visitor to the site.  We've noticed, that one of the most popular searche terms that bring people to Alone at Night are people searching for "voyeur". 

It seems that a lot of visitors who happen across our page were probably a little disapointed by what they found.  Sorry, guys and gals. There's no porn here, only great scary stories.  So, we may not have exactly what you'r'e looking for, but since you're here anyway, you might as well read a story or two or even submit one of your own. However, since you're so into voyeurisim, instead of being the one scared, I'd guess your'e doing the scaring. Creepers. =)

In an effort to drive more visitors to the site: voyeur, shower voyeur, boobs, ta-ta's, buttox, rump, rumpalicious, hiney.  Hahaha. =)

Keep up the story submissions and stay safe.

(Alone at Night Staff)

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Portugese Prowlers

This happen to me a few months ago...it’s probably not as creepy as your stories but for me it was the scariest thing that ever happen. It’s also not a knocking on door story but nevertheless it’s real…

So, I’m Portuguese and I live in Lisbon. To get the thrill and, I must say, very stupidly, me and my friends use to go to a place near Lisbon which is call Serra de Sintra. If you googled it you can see that it is a very beautiful place…during the day. At night it can be a very dark and creepy place full of mysticism and strange stories. This is just the context.

So, one night, me, my boyfriend, my sister and one of our male friends didn’t had anything to do, so we bought a few drinks, got in my boyfriend’s car and there we go.
To get to the place we usually parked, we have to drive a long, dark road in the middle of the woods, for about 20 minutes. Once we got there is pretty much chill out, have a couples of drinks and of course beware of all the creepy noises we hear.

So there we were, when suddenly a white van appears out of nowhere. This had happen once or twice before so, although it was a strange thing, it was not necessary to get out of there. Maybe they just wanted to ask for directions… But, in any case, my boyfriend gives me the bottle of wine and put himself in the position to drive off at any minute. But the van parks in a way that, if it moves a couple of feet, it could block our way out of there, since we had nothing but woods and trees behind us.

By that time, my sister and I were pretty much freaked out, because that was an insolated place and it was like one in the morning. What the hell was that van doing there, parked almost right in front of us?

When the van suddenly turn the headlights on again it was time to get the hell out of there. My boyfriend turns on the car just in time to run. We thought that was over but then, as we go into the dark, one way road, we see the van coming right behind us with it’s maxima headlights on and in full speed.
In this road, those who aren’t comfortable driving it need to go in a normal/slow speed because it’s a road full of tight bends not to mention the fact that it doesn’t have any lights. My boyfriend needed to drive this way, because the last thing we wanted was a car accident and like our male friend said, the car was our way out of there.

I was completely freaked out, my sister was almost screaming, and the guys were pretty much trying not to lose control. Since the road has only one way our biggest fear was this was some kind of trap, you know, like another car was waiting for us in the opposite direction, and if that was the case we were completely trapped there. That could eventually happen because we heard stories about creepy people in the woods of Sintra.

The van continues and after a while gives up and stayed behind.
Later, when we got to a safe place, we figured that was only someone trying to scares us, only playing a joke on us. In any case I swore never to go back to that place.

The funniest thing was that I had my video camera that night and I recorded the whole thing =)

Sorry for the long story and sorry for any mistakes in English…as I said, I’m Portuguese and my English is a little rusty =)

If you want to see the place on Google Earth here are the coordinates: 38.779961, -9.434356


Tuesday, July 19, 2011

A few Short Scary Stories

This happened to my friend's mother several years back when we were about 15-16. His folks had a nice house on a country road which was about half a mile from the main road. One night his mother is driving along this road which is really a track so you can't drive very fast down it. This guy steps right out in front of the car so she has to stop and she sees he his wearing a balaclava and pointing a gun at her.

She is frozen in fear and this guy jumps in the passenger seat and tells her to drive. He tells her not to look at him and keep her eyes on the road. When they get to the main road he makes her get out of the car and then drives off in the car. She is able to run into a nearby pub and raise the alarm.

The police reckoned they were targeted because they had nice cars (his mother had a white BMW). They also said it was unlikely the gun was real as it is not easy to get hold of handguns in the UK. She emerged unscathed but she must have thought it was game over when that guy jumped in the car.

One more...

I spent one year of college studying in France and my girlfriend over there had a series of alarming experiences. It started just before we started going out. She was walking across a parking lot one afternoon when it was raining and this car pulls up slowly alongside her. She ignores it and keeps walking realising there aren't many people around. The driver winds down his window and calls out to her and she sees that he isn't wearing anything below the waist. She runs off and he shouts at her that he'll see her again. She reported it to the police who were really good about the whole thing.

A few weeks after that she starts getting calls in her room at night where no-one speaks but she can hear someone is on the other end of the line. It happens a few times and kind of creeps her out. She's not easily shaken either. She just reasons it out that since the phone numbers are sequence by room, anyone can figure out which rooms have girls in and make a nuisance of themselves. None of the calls happen on nights I am there though.

The last event in the series was when we were seeing each other. We were in her room, which was on the ground floor and were up late talking. It's about 3 am so I am lying on her bed giving her a hug and she gets up to get a drink of water. She looks out of her window, freezes for a few seconds and then suddenly flattens herself against me and now I can feel she is shaken. I ask what's wrong and she says, "He was looking in, he was looking straight at me." Some guy was outside her window just standing there and looking in.

I took a look but whoever had been there was gone and it didn't seem a smart move to go out there and try and find him.

I asked her if it was the same guy who had exposed himself and she couldn't say definitely yes or definitely no. We don't even know that the three incidents were linked but she definitely had her share of scares that year.

Some douchebags just get their kicks out of scaring women I guess.

Bedroom Voyeur

I remembered a few more of these that happened to me and to people I knew. This one happened when I went to visit a friend and his GF and one of her friends. We went out for drinks and dinner one Saturday night and on getting back, I crashed in the lounge with the other girl and my friend and his gf went up to bed. No big deal.

The next morning the neighbour knocks at the door to ask if everything is OK. We are all a little hungover and wonder if we made some noise on the way home and he is politely letting us know. It was something else entirely.

At about 1am, this guy's wife had woken him up saying she was sure she could hear someone outside. So he gets up, looks out of the window and can see a guy in the front garden. It was Spring time so not that warm but this guy is just wearing a t-shirt and combat pants. So the neighbour puts the light in the room on, opens the window and asks the guy what he wants. The guy just stares up at him, doesn't answer and then casually walks off.

They decide he is a drunk who got lost on the way back from the pub or a party and go back to bed. The husband is still a little edgy and can't sleep. A couple of hours later he decides to go down and have a look around, check the doors again etc.

Everything is ok and he decides to have a quick look up and down the street. It all looks clear and he is about to go back inside when he happens to look up. He sees the guy. He has climbed up on the porch of my friend's place and is crouching staring through their bedroom window.

The neighbour can't believe what he is seeing and just watches for a few seconds and then yells up at him. They guy is startled and half jumps/half falls off the porch and runs off.

We called the police and they came to have a look at the porch but didn't find anything.

Needless to say, my friend's GF was hugely creeped out by this guy watching them sleep. They were only renting that place and after the incident they did not stay there all that long.

I always wondered what that guy was doing for the time between the neighbour challenging him and then seeing him up on the porch. Pretty unsettling.

Oh, and let this be a lesson to us all.  Look out for your family, friend, and neighbors.  Take care of one another and the world will be a better place. 


Foot Rubs from a Freak in Dublin

Me and my bf were at a concert in Dublin the other night and we stayed in a lovely hotel, with the recession you can get them cheap so anyways we came back from the concert, Bryan Adams - epic!, and I had a good few scoops in me but my bf was sober as a judge cuz he was working the next morning. When we got back to the room I was dying for a fag after a while and was too lazy to walk all the way down and out the front door so I slid the window right up and stuck the head out for a smoke but forgot to close the window..dun dun dun only joking this is actually true :D Went to sleep anyways, himself was fast asleep already and I was half cut so forgot about the window.

 I woke a couple of hours later to go to the loo and while I was in there I could hear noises just noises could of been anything but not normal at that time of the morning so i ran back to the bed like a hot snot and shoved the boyfriend to wake him up. He turned around and said what are you waking me up for? and why the *beep* are you rubbimg my feet?

It wasn't me rubbing his feet nor was it me crawling around the floor of our hotel room it was some freak who had climbed through the window. Himself gets up and starts screaming like a madman, I rang reception and the Gardai were called, it's actually quite funny I had startled him the feckin' eejit by getting up so he had hid round the side of the bed and the stupid twat had put his hands on the bed to guide him round and was rubbing off the bf's feet other than that we would have been sleeping pretty none the wiser! He was out to rob but unless he was gonna sell the fillings out of my teeth he would have been sorely dissappointed!

Friday, July 15, 2011

New Website to check out

Hello all you fright fans, fear fanatics, freaky....um...freaks!  I'd like to take a moment to give a shout out to a loyal Alone at Night follower -- Lexie.  She's begun her own business, selling her custom artwork, and greeting cards.  She does invites for weddings, baby showers, or get well soon cards, thank you cards, customized stationary.  She also sells some really rad art including some steampunk stuff.  Please take a moment to check out her website at www.Allybstudio.com .  She is also on Etsy.com  Just go to etsy.com and search for "Ally B Studio".

Thanks to Lexie for being a big fan of Alone at Night and thanks to all of you too!

Friday, July 8, 2011

Scary Guys Beat Root Beer, Shotgun Beats Scary Guys

Reading all of these brought to mind something I dealt with quite some time ago...

I was staying at my aunt/uncles home, dog sitting (a black and tan coonhound named Rover, I joke not). Anyway, they had a U-shaped driveway inundated with bushy plants all over and a wood gated front patio area. I had been watching videos (way back when VHS was all we had) and decided I wanted a root beer, so I went out to the detached garage where the extra fridge was and took the dog with me. I grabbed a couple of cans and as I was going back in I heard "HEY!" right in the bushes near the inside of the gate, my heart stopped for a moment and I was seriously freaked. I grabbed the dog, dropped the cans of soda, ran into the house, slammed and locked the front door. I headed straight for their bedroom cause I knew my uncle had a shotgun so I grabbed it, knowing he kept it armed and went back to the front. I decided to look out the huge picture window at the front, to make sure whoever I heard wasn't at the front door before I opened it.
Of course, I think he saw the gun and took off cause by the time I opened the front door the front gate was open and it hadn't been when I looked out the window. I freaked worse cause I heard the sound of what was at least two people outside the gate in the bushes that bordered the neighbors house and yelled for the neighbor, an older man who was good friends with my uncle/aunt, he was also Vietnam Vet like my uncle so there was a bond. Well, he came out with a big handheld search lights, with his son next to him carrying a machete (no joke, again)...whoever these guys were they took off running, and I mean running.

The cops basically said they'd patrol throughout the night, I don't know if they did (this was in a town where the cops were decent), but I hope so. They couldn't look for anyone, cause I never saw anyone.

The dog barking during this whole ordeal, like a coonhound does.

He stayed by me that whole night, we found a padlock for the gate...putting it on without locking it, kept the outside light on and some of the inside lights on, and I doubt I let go of that gun until morning.

Told my aunt and uncle when they came home the next day and his only comment to my aunt was, "I was with you, I swear"...he plays twisted practical jokes to scare people.

Never did find out who they were.

Foreign Fears

I was 17 years old and on a family vacation in Berlin, Germany several years ago, and we were getting ready for bed in our hotel rooms. Normally I, my parents, and my siblings stay in one room, but for fire hazard reasons, this hotel didn’t allow for 6 people to sleep in the same room. So my parents and little brother stayed in one room, and my brother, sister and I stayed in the adjacent hotel room next to theirs. I was fast asleep, but around 2 am, I was awakened by the sound of our doorknob jiggling as if someone were trying to come in. I just ignored the sound and tried to fall back asleep, but I was clearly shaken up and covered in sweat. I convinced myself that I had merely imagined it, but sure enough the jiggling on the door handle persisted again, debunking any of my imagination. I didn’t know what to do because I was in a foreign country, my siblings were asleep, and I feared that waking them up would draw attention to us. I didn’t know how to operate the room phone to call the front desk nor could I speak any German, and my parents were in the other room.

I coaxed my older brother to wake up, but he didn’t believe me. I can remember how utterly helpless I felt when this was all going on; it was like in the movies when everyone around you is skeptical of something that you heard. I remember there were very loud helicopters overhead for some reason, and I remember how I was sweating and burning up underneath the covers. I eventually fell back asleep and everything was fine the next morning. Luckily we stayed at a hotel in another town the next day so I never slept in that room again, but I never found out who that was trying to get in our hotel room that night. Freaky.

Sliding Glass Doors

I just recently moved to Los Angeles from New York, so I'm accustomed to high crime rates and people trying to break in, etc. Anyway, I was at my apartment alone. I have two roommates and it was a Friday night. I had decided to come home early from a party because everyone was getting drunk. It was around 2a.m. The apartment complex I live in is pretty nice. It's not crime-ridden or run down. I like it. Anyway, I was trying to finish up some weekend homework when I hear a really LOUD knocking from the door.

Seeing as I had friends that were out drunk, I didn't think twice. I called out, "Hold on!" because I was in the back room furthest from the door. When I got there, I opened the door and there was no one there. The silence was haunting. I've never encountered a silence like that before in my entire life. My stomach literally turned to ice water.

I immediately shut the door and locked it up. I stayed in the living room (where the front door was) so I could make sure no one knocked again. Somewhere between 2 and 3 I dozed off, but I was startled awake by muffled voices. I remember this really low voice that seemed right beside my ear. I jolted awake and I realized no one was in my apartment -- they were standing right outside.

I looked over to a large sliding glass door we have (that leads out into the back quarters of the complex) and there were two figures that were shadowed in the porch light. It was incredibly frightening. I knew they weren't my roommates because the voices were so different.

Needless to say, I freaked and called security and they came and found no one but they did find that my door frame had been worn down because whoever it was really wanted inside.


Friday, May 20, 2011


{Here is a short story to start your day off right}

This one happened when I was about 10 or 11. We visited my mother’s side of the family in Pennsylvania almost every summer. She is from a small town northeast of Oil City so since this is in a national forest, it is pretty much woods all around.

Anyway, my brother and me and my cousin went to a carnival the night before we were to go home. When we got back to my uncle’s house it was well after dark. They have a reasonable sized back yard, but of course nothing but forest beyond. In the back corner of the yard my cousin’s dog is tied up under a light. He is barking like crazy and from beyond the edge of the woods we hear this screaming that didn’t sound at all like a hurt animal or even a human. It was the scariest, creepiest sound I have ever heard before or since. It scared everyone. This was almost 30 years ago and to this day, if I think of it, it still creeps me out. No one ever found out what it was that was making that sound.


Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Submit Your Story Win a Prize

Okay, so you won't actually win a prize. I don't make any money off this site, so I don't have anything to offer you.  However, you will win my undying graditude and I think that is worth a lot.   So, please, we're slowly dying of thirst here. We need YOUR story!

Scary, creepy, spooky, or even funny, we want all your true horror stories.  If just 1% of our weekly visitors submited a story we'd be doing great.  But as it is we hardly get one story a week these days.  A lot of the stories you see here were gathered from disperate sources across the internets, and combined in a single space to make it eaiser for you to read some great scary stories.  However, this takes a lot of time that we just don't have.  It's quicker, and more fun if the stories come from YOU our audience.

Please take a moment, NOW, and write down your story and ship it in an email to us at  aloneatnightblog@gmail.com

Many Thanks!

-Alone at Night Staff

Friday, May 6, 2011

What the Hell?

This happened in the fall of 2004. I was living with my sister, and another male roommate, R, at the time in a little apartment. We had all just moved in about 2 weeks ago.

These were semi-upscale units, gated community, supposedly patrolled 24 hours a day...Anyhow, it was a weeknight. I got home from work later than normal, and decided to watch a movie with the roomies while eating some leftover supper. It was about 11:30 when I got home. Sis and I fall asleep in the living room. I am awakened by a very loud pounding and screaming at the door. It's a girl's voice, crying her head off, screaming for help. Sis is awake now, too, and R has just wandered in.

Stupid me, I decided to open the door. This girl was in her nightgown with a blanket wrapped around her, no shoes, her face soaked with tears.

"Help me, please. Can I come inside?" She asks.

She seems harmless enough. Come on, she's wearing a damn nightgown, and it is cold outside.
"Is everything ok? I ask.

"No! There's a man in my apartment! I got scared, so I ran out. I live by myself and I just moved in. I don't have my phone yet, so I went around to the neighbors for help, and no one would open the door except for you guys. Can I use your phone?"

I hand her the cordless, assuming that she's going to call the cops. She thanks me. Then, she takes the phone outside, and around the corner to talk.
For 15. *beep* Minutes.

Then, she comes back with the phone, and thanks me again.
R offers to check out her place for her, and grabs his baseball bat.
She thinks it's a good idea not to go in alone. So, what the hell, we all go.
Her apartment is around the corner from ours.

We go in her place, and she has to unlock the front door to get in.

R checks the other windows, and they are all locked, except for the sliding glass door in her bedroom , which is wide open. We turn on all the lights and wait in the front room while he checks the place. There's no one there.

So, she figures he must've gotten in and out through the sliding door, which would seem totally logical if it weren't 3 floors up.

Anyway, as soon as R said it was all clear, the girl was just like, "Oh, well. Thank you SO much! I'm gonna go to sleep, now. Good night!"

Sis looks at me sideways, and then says to her, "Don't you want to wait until the police get here?"
She says, "I never called the police." And closes the door.

So, that gave me a funny feeling, so we 3 sprint back to our place asap. Nothing out of the ordinary. It takes awhile but we all manage to get some sleep. We chalked up the night's events to a young girl's first night alone away from home creepies, and didn't think anymore about it.
Fast forward to 3 weeks later.

The 3 of us are home in the evening watching the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special (of all things), when there's a knock on the door.

R opens it without hesitation. We all turn and look.

It's the same girl as before, and there's an older man with her that we don't recognize. They are all dressed up. She has the world's biggest smile on her face.

The man says, "Hello. I am very sorry to bother you this evening. Have you seen this young lady before?"

R says he has.

"This is my daughter. She says she's been in your house. Has she been in your house?"
R nods.

" Well, if she comes back, DO NOT LET HER IN YOUR HOUSE. No matter what she tells you. DO NOT LET HER IN. NEVER LET HER IN."

The man was very solemn, but the girl had a ten-mile grin the whole time, and it just scared the *beep* *beep* out of me.

That was November, and we moved out in January, and she never did come back.
Thank hell.