𤯠INCRĂVEL: 51 True Stories So Creepy And Disturbing They Might Make You Sleep With The Lights On đ˛
Okay so I’m 14 and am often mistaken for 18 because of my….shape. (a little context)
I was at the YMCA with my sisters, we were swimming for a while and then I started to feel sick. My younger sister said, “You don’t look good OP, maybe you should sit in the changing room for a while.” me, “yeah I think I will.”
I went in the changing room for some peace and quiet, and lucky me no one was there! I sat on one of the benches and closed my eyes, a few moments later and I hear someone come in. It was a guy, tall, muscular and genuinely good looking. I brushed it off thinking he was probably waiting on his girlfriend and came to check on here cuz she was taking to long or something. That is until he approached me and sat right next to me, so close our thighs were touching. I was really surprised, I scooted over and gave him that ‘what do you think you’re doing’ look.
He smiled at me and said, “don’t worry girl I’m not gonna hurt you.” and proceeded to put his hand on my back. I stood up backed away(I was scared to run cuz he seemed athletic, so he probably could’ve caught me),
He asked me “how old you baby.” in a sickeningly sweet tone. I say 14 and he nonchalantly says “Cool”. so I asked how old he was, “23”.
He then stood up and started walking over to me and I backed away from him. This is the turning point, I hear a bathroom stall open, and there standing in all her glory was the lady who I’ll call my hero. She stepped out and I know she heard everything. That dude hightailed it outta there. â
The lady was nice and stayed with me for a while, her name was Stacy. thank you Stacy. đ
It is most definitely not always obvious that the person youâve just met is potentially dangerous. Threatening individuals can put up a very attractive front to appear like regular or even well-respected members of society.
For example, you may want to beware of so-called âdark triadâ personalities. The Cleveland Clinic warns that these people have three overlapping negative traits: narcissism, psychopathy, and Machiavellianism.
In short, they are arrogant, grandiose, constantly demand attention and your affection, and excessively love themselves. Furthermore, dark triad individuals tend to lack empathy or remorse and are prone to impulsive, antisocial, and even criminal behaviors. Moreover, they are often cynical, donât value morality, and often lie, manipulate, and strategize to seize power.
I was 13 years old at the time (now 22) and on vacation with my parents in Turkey. We were in an all-inclusive hotel and enjoying the holiday.
The hotel was full of tourists from different countries. There was this one guy, around 20 who was staring at me for some time. I felt uncomfortable and asked him how he was doing. Wrong choice. The next few days everywhere where I was he also suddenly appeared. Not flirting, just lurking for hours and watching me. He had a really strange vibe around him and I felt I shouldn’t be alone with him.
Now, I was still young so my parents didn’t want to leave me alone in a foreign country. So he could not bother me. But one night there was entertainment in the hotel, which became boring to me after some time. I told my parents I wanted to go to my own hotel room and I would see them in the morning. I left and walked to the elevator. What I didn’t know was that the guy who was watching me for days saw me leaving and he had followed me. When I saw him also coming in I was in great fear. He looked at me silently with a sinister smile. “This is it.” I thought. R*pe, a***ult or maybe even worse.
And just before the doors of the elevator were closing someone stuck his boot between it in order to prevent the doors from closing (I am not kidding) All I could see was a boot. The doors opened and it was my dad. He saw that the creepy guy was leaving at the exact time I had left and didn’t trust it. He looked the guy in the eye and said hello. My dad took me to my hotel room. To this day I am so glad for the rescue because I don’t want to know what would’ve happened if he didn’t.
When my oldest daughter was a freshman in college, she and her friends decided to get into bones. Specifically, they would pick up decaying roadk**l, clean the skulls, and make art from them (or sell them). Eventually, they decided to get some fresh cow skulls to clean. They went to a local sl***hterhouse, and bought three cow heads, wrapping them in plastic garbage bags and putting them in the back of their car.
On the way to the cleaning site, they stopped at a home improvement store in the middle of nowhere to pick up some supplies; two people went inside, two stayed with the car. After a few minutes, my daughter said, “I think the heads shifted; I’m going to check the them and make sure the bags didn’t come open.” She got out, opened the hatchback, and the bags toppled out, spilling blood and decapitated cow heads onto the pavement.
As she jumped back, she happened to see a lone Store Employee, pushing carts back to the store. And he saw the heads. And the blood. He dropped the carts and power-walked as fast as possible to the storefront, just as my daughter’s friends came out. “We need to GO,” she said. And they went, with all haste.
This was…oh, five years ago? I’m sure that poor traumatized employee is hoping to never meet them again.
Dark triad personalities are self-centered, project confidence, try to control others, and are masterful at gaining other peopleâs trust. They might flatter you with their charm or charisma to create a positive impression. However, all of this is a front that masks their true intentions.
Psychologist Susan Albers, PsyD, explains that these individuals âappear and act very confidentâ and tend to âoccupy powerful positions in society.â Namely, they are âCEOs, cult leaders, bosses, and politicians.â
Other red flags to look for include individuals who lack emotional attachments, are prone to lying, engage in risky behavior, generally lack compassion, and have a jealous streak. Dark triad personalities also tend to be greedy, violent, and prone to bullying.
I’m just going to preface this by saying that I was the “creepy” party involved.
I was in a small forest nearby my house one night at around 1 AM on a winter night. The reason for this was because I was practicing meditation and I sometimes like to go out into nature during sessions. I sat under a tree (the place was deserted when I got there) and just calmly melted into the environment. I managed to get into a pretty deep state, so everything was sort of dreamlike.
About halfway into it, these two young women (likely teenagers) came in. They were getting drunk/high and were giggling and tipsy. They sat down about 20 feet from me, facing away, chatting, totally unaware of my presence. Then one of them noticed me and freaked out. “Wh-WHOAH! W-what is it? Did you see that??” she said to her friend. Then the other one noticed me (an ambiguous silhouetted lump under a pine tree) and shrieked.
My response was, in a monotonous drone, “Don’t worry. I am a human woman.” I was in a particularly deep state at the time, so I didn’t really think about how it sounded until afterward. One of them responded, kind of stuttering and asked what I was doing. I explained that I was meditating and that they didn’t need to worry about me and that they could proceed with the drinking. Needless to say they laughed it off nervously and then quickly made an excuse to leave!
This just happened a few days ago and I’m extremely shaken up. Some backstory…I live on the second floor of a 3 level apartment. We have a crawlspace that connects all the apartments. We aren’t sure why it’s there but we all have stuff in it and none of us would ever even attempt to go inside of it so we still felt pretty safe.
The other night the sun was setting but it wasn’t pitch black out or anything yet. I’m walking through my living room when I see a short woman on my fire escape looking into my windows. This is extremely bizarre considering it’s still semi-light out and she had to literally get onto our fire escape somehow. We have 2 windows that the fire escape reaches and she was looking in both but didnt see me. I crawled onto the ground and my heart was racing as I watched her try to open the windows. I didn’t know what to do because my phone was in the other room.
After what seemed like an eternity, she finally left. I went into my room to get my phone to text my landlord and call the cops. I came back into the living room and was looking out the windows to see if I could locate her when all of a sudden I hear a weird noise coming from the ceiling. We have one of those tile ceilings made out of separate slabs of cork/wood. I look up to see one of the slabs lifted up and two eyes staring at me. I have no clue how she got into the crawlspace so quickly but I grabbed the nearest thing next to me (which was a broom) and started hitting her with it through the ceiling and called the cops as soon as she crawled away.
They showed up and searched the place and didnt find her until a few days later when she was on someone else’s fire escape. The cops said she was definitely on some hard d**gs and that she was violent towards them. I’m glad she’s gone but whoever that crazy lady that came through my ceiling was…lets not meet again.
This happened to me when I was 21 after an OD. I woke up in the hospital in the middle of the night to a nurse saying he needed to replace my IV. He jabs me 2 or 3 times but doesnât hit a vein, so I ask if he could get someone else to try. He says no and keeps going. As he is doing this, he is pushing and wiggling the needles around under my skin saying he is trying to get the vein.
By the 7th or 8th needle, it registers that he is intentionally trying to hurt me. I ask him, “why are you doing this?” he just says, “it’s your own fault you’re here.”
I was too weak to fight back and it was the middle of the night, there was no one else around I could call out to. I have no idea how many times he ended up puncturing me in the end.
The next day a different nurse was taking out my IV. She was horrified because she said it was the biggest needle she’d ever seen used on a “living” patient (not sure why you would use needles on a dead patient, but that’s what she said).
A lot of people shrug this off when I tell them about it, but it was so terrifying being alone, helpless, and knowing that the person who was supposed to care for you hated you and wanted to cause you pain. So yeah, night nurse who loves huge needles and hates mentally ill girls, let’s not meet again.
Edit: I am doing much much better now. This happened 7 yrs ago & I didnât report it. Very small town, I was scared that people I worked with would find out about my s***ide attempt if I pursued it, plus I was just focused on survival. You all have encouraged me, though, and Iâm going to do my best to track this guy down and and report it to someone.
So, what do you actually do if you suspect that the person youâve met is a dark triad personality? Well, the healthiest and safest thing to do is to avoid them. When you put distance between you and them, youâre protecting yourself physically, emotionally, and financially.
Unfortunately, thatâs not always an option if that person is your boss, friend, or relative. In those cases, you should focus on educating yourself on the manipulative tactics that people use and establish very clear boundaries to avoid being taken advantage of.
Right outside my apartment smoking a cigarette, an unknown person snuck around a corner and sprayed me with pepper spray while I was looking at my phone.
I could make out a tall, thin man with a back pack walking away with his hands in his pockets before I lost the ability to keep my eyes open. There were no other people on the side walk in either direction.
I didn’t see his face. He didn’t say anything, or try to take anything from me, or grab me.. He didn’t even stick around to watch me be all messed up. Just.. walked away. Like nothing happened.
I’m very thankful that I was able to feel for my keys and get back into my building, but then I started to realize that I could have permanent damage if I didn’t get to a sink. I couldn’t find the key to my studio. I was starting to not be able to breath.
I pounded on every door I could feel until my neighbor, whom I had never met before this moment, opened up for me. She let me bust into her bathroom and toss water everywhere. I felt so terrible for just commandeering her bathroom and bringing in that smell to her place, but I will be eternally grateful to this lady for helping me and calling the police. They didn’t find him, and now I’m wondering if this was random or if this dude was waiting for me.
So, to the a**hole who randomly attacked me for who knows why, let’s not meet.
I suffer from schizophrenia. The other night, I had an extreme episode of psychosis. I donât remember much about what happened. I was wearing sweat pants and high heels and wandering around my apartment complex. I decided to go home. The main door in my apartment complex requires a key card (like a hotel), but my roommates always leave the back door open. So I walked into what I thought was my apartment and made myself comfy on the couch. I tried to go into my room, but it was locked, which confused me because I never lock my door.
The people who lived there thought I was a friend of one of the other roommates, so it took them a minute to register what happened. When they did, they freaked out, understandably, and called the cops. The cop thought I was drinking or on d**gs, but I showed him my medical emergency card that explains I have schizophrenia. After he read the card, I was totally out of trouble and he just wanted to make sure I got home safely.
I donât even remember the interactions I had with the people who lived there, as I wasnât super lucid until the officer came.
So yeah. Now these people have a story about how a random schizophrenic woman in sweats and high heels just cane into their house and made themselves at home. (This all happened at night) oops… sorry
My family at one time volunteered at a veteran’s homeless shelter quarterly. It was with a group of people from our church. We had gone several times. I had a small baby that I was wearing on my body with a wrap while serving the food, and I would occasionally mingle and talk with the veterans while they ate.
One evening, I was speaking to two men at a table and one asked me where I lived. I didn’t take it to mean anything other than the general town I was from, which I told him. It was nowhere near where this shelter was.
But then, the other man at the table, who I had never seen before, looked at the other guy and told him exactly how to get to my house. He told him where I lived.
Then he looked at me and he said, I used to live on the hill across the road from you. I used to watch you all the time. You and your children.
So that was the last time I volunteered anywhere like that. I reported him to the shelter director. He was a registered s*x offender, I found out later, and he DID live across the road from us at one point. I’ve never been so creeped out in my life.
Itâs also helpful to be skeptical of what dark triad personalities tell you, and it helps to limit your reactions so that they donât get the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you. The more composed and less interesting you appear, the quicker they will move on to someone else. Revenge against them is ill-advised because you might end up in an even more dangerous situation.
If you suspect that a loved one may be exhibiting dark triad tendencies, you may want to reach out to a therapist or a trusted member of your social circle for support and advice.
In December 2018, my ex and I split up after seven years together. I was new to the dating scene again, so I didnât want to rush into anything. In February, I met a guy at a bar we used to frequent. The second time we met, we exchanged numbers. By the end of March, I felt comfortable enough to invite him to a party at my house. He stayed after, and one thing led to another.
After it was all said and done, I had a weird feeling about him. He was too pushy, and it made me uncomfortable, so I asked him to leave. I planned to never speak to him againâbut then he started texting me from random numbers.
He would say things like, âHope you have fun fishing,â when I hadnât posted anything about fishing. Or, âI hope the movie was good,â even though I hadnât shared that I was at a movie. Heâd text asking where I was in different bars, even though I hadnât told anyone or posted where I was going. We had no mutual friends, so he had to be following me.
The final straw came when my friends took me to Washington, DC for my 25th birthday. We bar-hopped all over the city. Around 2:30 a.m., we left the last bar and went across the street for cookies. As we were coming out of the shop, guess who shows upâhim. He said, âI hope ____ and ____ were fun. I wanted to say hi earlier, but since you havenât been replying to my messages, I didnât want to freak you out.â
I was terrified. My friendâs husband stepped in, called him out, and threatened to call the police. After that, I changed my number and moved. Thankfully, I havenât heard from him since.
To the guy I mistakenly had my first one-night stand with: letâs never meet again.
Iâm currently living in my SUV, and last night around midnight I parked in a Walmart parking lot to sleep. It had been one of the worst days Iâve had in a long time, and I was completely exhausted. When I got into the back of my SUV, I fell asleep almost immediatelyâunfortunately forgetting to lock my doors.
Iâve always been a very light sleeper, and Iâm grateful for that, because somehow I woke up, turned around in my makeshift bed, and saw someone sitting in the driverâs seat, looking directly at me.
This is where it somehow gets a bit surreal. I was so tired and out of it that all I did was slowly shake my head back and forth and say âno,â while reaching across this personâs lap, opening the door, and gesturing for them to leave.
And thatâs why, to whoever was in my car with me last nightâthank you for getting out and leaving without saying or doing anything else. But I really hope we never meet again.
This happened just last Tuesday, and I still canât stop thinking about it. Iâm a 30-year-old woman living with my fiancĂŠ and our two dogsâboth huskies, one is 2 years old and the other is 4 months. They are definitely not guard dogs. They donât bark or howl much and usually just love people. Friends and family have walked in before without the dogs making a sound.
That night, it was around 8 PM. It was already dark, and I was home alone while my fiancĂŠ was at a hockey game. I was in the bathroom with the door closed, blow dryer running, so I couldnât hear much around me. Then I heard one of the dogs howl. I turned off the dryer, thinking maybe they were fighting.
A moment later, I heard a faint knockâand suddenly the dogs went crazy. Barking, howling, jumping at the bay window so hard I thought they might break it. I was confused, thinking maybe there was another dog or even a skunk outside.
I went to my bedroom window since it had the closest view of the front door. Thatâs when I saw two men in hoodies standing there. They started knocking louder, and my older husky jumped from the bay window to the front door, growling and slamming his body into it.
I watched from my room as one of the men jumped back, clearly startled. He looked at the other guy, and then they both just walked away. I immediately called my fiancĂŠ and told him to come home as soon as possible. I watched the men walk down the streetâthey didnât stop at any other houses.
It still creeps me out. Thank goodness for my dogs.
âLetâs Not Meetâ has a long history. The online community was established way back in mid-November 2011. And, at the time of writing, it will soon be celebrating its 15th anniversary. The group currently has 31k subscribers.
The main draw of the subreddit is that it focuses on real stories, not fiction. The moderator team that runs the community stresses that this is a place to read âspine-tingling, unusual, terrifyingly true stories about people you never want to meet again.â
As the moderators highlight in the communityâs main rules, there is absolutely no room for fiction or paranormal stories on âLetâs Not Meet.â The stories you read here are âreal, in-person encounters with the living only.â Meanwhile, paranormal or fictional encounters can be shared in a variety of other subreddits that are out there.
The mods also stress that peopleâs stories shouldnât primarily focus on lewd behavior or road rage.
Okay, so this is a situation that happened in Dubai airport, although I wasn’t the main victim in this story.
I was trying to get to the terminal in order to catch a flight out of Dubai when I realised the taxi driver took me to the wrong terminal. Disappointed that I was at the wrong place, I let out a âf***ing hellâ out of frustration at myself and decided to try and figure out where to go next.
A few minutes later, two police officers came and detained me and went off at me for swearing at an Arab woman (whom I assume was somewhere around me) and a whole host of insults that would only really be offensive in Arab/Asian culture, including threats of violence, until they saw I had a passport from a Western country and suddenly became polite (I don’t look like I’m from the West).
However, the worst part of that hour-long ordeal was the fact that there was a Hungarian girl who came in with her dad and complained about being r*ped, only to get yelled at by the police and told to get lost.
Is this a common experience in authoritarian countries? What would a woman do if she was attacked like this? Anyway, I was glad I wasn’t a girl at that time. Also, Dubai police, let’s not meet.
When I was a student teacher, I was 21 and working with mostly seniors in high school, many of which were 17 or 18 years old.
One day, the mentor teacher I was working with pulled me aside from teaching my class to inform me other teachers had overheard some students telling each other what they “wanted to do to me”. While disturbing, many of my friends and colleagues insisted that that’s a fact of being a young teacher working with high schoolers.
The next day, I had a few girls in my class approach me and inform me that three specific boys were no longer just talking about what they WANTED to do, but were graphically describing what they were PLANNING on doing to me in the coming weeks, after school, in the parking lot, far more details than I’d like to share.
I went to the administration immediately, and they handled it very quickly and professionally. I was very grateful for their support. I was never touched nor harmed by any of these students, thankfully. What scared the absolute cr*p out of me, however, is not even a week later, one of those boys was arrested and pulled out of school. I didn’t find out immediately, but I eventually learned he was being held for the alleged s*xual a***ult of his younger sister. It makes me sick thinking about it still. I genuinely hope to never meet him again. It’s terrifying to think of what could have happened had I not had some wonderful staff and students looking out for me.
This happened about 8 years ago in Germany. My daughters were 4 and 2 1/2. It was a very nice morning, so I decided to take my girls to a little mall to walk around and do some shopping.
My girls are, and always were, very well behaved and never ran away from me. Usually we always held hands when walking around in areas with many people. On this day, the mall was almost empty, but they still stayed holding my hands.
I noticed a man passing me. He looked at my daughters with a very stern look that gave me a bad vibe. I just brushed it off and kept walking. We wanted to go to a shoe store, which had a very cute play area the girls liked.
As we entered the store, they asked if they could run ahead to the play area. I could see it right away as it was at the end of a wide walkway, so I told them yes and they took off.
At that exact moment, that same strange man burst into the store and speed-walked past me toward my daughters. It didnât even take me a second to realize he was up to no good. He was completely focused on getting to themâfast.
I instantly started yelling while running past him, âGirls, come here now!â I am never very stern, but they sensed I was serious. He got thrown off by my yelling. I got to my daughters before he could, turned around, and saw him running out of the store.
I was so shaken. A store worker came up to me and asked what happened, and I told her. I waited for a while until I felt calm enough to leave the store and the mallâwith both babies in my arms.
So creepy mall guy, letâs not ever meet again.
Meanwhile, the stories that people share on the sub must be personal. If you post about something that happened to a friend or relative, the moderators can decide to remove the story. Other stories that tend to be removed are those about internet users knowing or having met someone who ended up doing horrible things later in life, but to other people, not them.
No matter what, the âLetâs Not Meetâ community emphasises the importance of privacy. So, everyone is encouraged to use fictional names for the sake of anonymity.
Thatâs not to say that all members of âLetâs Not Meetâ immediately believe everything they read on the subreddit. They are both allowed and even encouraged to question the truthfulness of a story, but they have to do it politely. Whatâs more, they should share the reasons why they think the story might not be true.
And, though it sounds obvious, the community members are reminded that they must not use artificial intelligence. Their stories should be written in their own words. The priority here is authenticity, not being a great writer.
I donât have a car, so Uber/Lyft is my main mode of transportation to get to work. This morning, I requested an Uber about half an hour before I had to be there, and the pickup was supposed to take less than five minutes. For some reason, though, my driver kept going in circles.
He ended up calling me asking for directions, and I was telling him exactly where to goâsame as the GPS in the background. At that point, I was irritated and asked if there was a way he could cancel because I was going to be late. He said he couldnât and eventually found his way to my apartment at the exact time I was supposed to be at work.
He kept apologizing, and I just mumbled, âItâs fine, I just need to get there.â Then he took me to another store on the way and asked, âThis is it, right?â It took everything in me not to blow up. I calmly gave him directions to the actual store I work at and told him to please just follow the GPS.
We finally got to my job, and I was nearly 20 minutes late. As soon as he parked, I muttered âthanks,â got out, and rushed inside to clock in.
About an hour into my shift, one of my managers came up to me and said my Uber driver had been harassing people at the front of the store, trying to get in touch with me or a manager to take responsibility for me being late and apologize. You need a membership to shop there, so he kept getting kicked out. He tried four or five separate times to come in.
Another hour later, a different manager told me he had started blowing up the storeâs phone, begging to speak to me. She asked me not to leave alone and to stay alert in case he came back.
I contacted Uber support multiple times to report it. All they did was give me a $3 credit. I made sure to rate him one star so I wouldnât get him again, but itâs honestly scary knowing he knows where I live and work.
I was around 10 or 11 when this happened, and I was home alone. The doorbell rang while I was watching TV, so I quickly moved my bowl of cereal and got up to answer the door.
It was a man who said he was a mailman and that we had a package, but it was so big that he needed help carrying it. Something felt off about himâhe wasnât wearing a uniform, just a dirty white shirt and jeans. I asked where his truck was because I didnât see it parked out front, and he said it was around the corner and told me to follow him to grab the parcel.
He kept insisting that I go with him, but I politely said I wasnât feeling well and that we would just pick it up from the post office. He said how much of a hassle that would be and kept pushing me to come outside and get it right then.
I told him I needed to get my shoes from upstairs, and he waited outside. I locked the door and ran upstairs, closing all the windows. Then I called my mom and explained everything. The man was still outside and shouted up, asking if I had gotten my shoes.
I told him my mom was coming because sheâs much stronger and could help carry the package. As soon as I said that, he ran off, and I never saw him again.
They never caught him, and I just hope he never tricked any other kids into going near that van. Dear fake, creepy mailmanâletâs not meet again.
I was driving home when I realized a truck had been behind me for miles. Just to be precautious, I made an abrupt last-second U-turn. He did too. Thatâs when I realized he was following me.
While on the phone with 911, I made sharp turns and ran red lights to try to lose him. He wouldnât stopâhe even almost hit my car a couple of times as he sped up trying to catch me. The 911 operator told me to go to a local grocery store and wait for the police.
I parked right in front of the store entrance, near the surveillance cameras, and waited. He parked at a distance and just sat there, waiting for me to get out of my car. Suddenly, I heard a hard knock on my window. I panicked, but it was the grocery store manager, who said 911 had notified him about the situation. He asked if I wanted to come inside and said heâd protect me until the cops arrived.
I was shaking and honestly feared the worst. I thought, âThis maniac might have a g*n. He could sh**t me and everyone in there,â so I said no and stayed in my car.
The cops arrived and cornered him in the back of the parking structure. I was still shaking when they came to my car, gripping the wheel tightly. They arrested him soon after for a third DUI and filed a report. I didnât know who he was, but apparently he lived only a couple of miles away from me.
Unfortunately, two months later I got a letter saying I might be subpoenaed. I called the DMV, and they told me not only was he already free, but that my informationâincluding my addressâwas on the police report that had been given to him and his attorney.
Now I live in fear that he might show up one day and hurt me.
According to the moderators, stories that do NOT belong on âLetâs Not Meetâ include things such as getting a creepy look from a stranger on the street or a story that you had to exaggerate to make it sound dramatic.
On the other hand, stories that DO belong on the sub are experiences such as being stalked, being kidnapped or almost kidnapped, and encountering outright bizarre behaviors that regular people would never do.
So this happened a couple years ago when I was 13 and my brother was 11. My parents had to go out and thought it would be better to leave me and my brother home alone, so thatâs what they did, taking my little sister (age 6) with them.
Me and my brother were down in our basement where we had our video games set up, just playing Mario Kart on our Wii. We had the home phone between us just in case one of our parents called.
About an hour went by, and the phone started to ring. We looked down at the caller ID, and it was our uncle. We decided to just let it ring. The way our phone worked, it would ring about five times and then stop. One ring, two ring, three riâthen it stopped early.
My brother didnât think anything of it, but I did. I realized the only reason it would stop that early was if someone picked up. But we were home alone.
I got really suspicious, and my paranoia kicked in. I grabbed my brother, and we went upstairs. The phone downstairs was still there, but there was another phone on the third floor in my parentsâ room. We started heading toward the stairs, and what we saw chilled us to the bone.
There was a manâlate 40s, maybe early 50s. Thatâs all I can really tell you, because the second we saw him, we both screamed, ran out the front door, and went straight to our neighborâs house.
We told them what happened. They called the police and then our parents. The police came quickly. I donât know what was wrong with the man, but he never left the houseâhe just stood there until they arrested him.
From what I heard, he was placed in a mental hospital, but thatâs just what I was told.
This story might not be as crazy as others, but I still think about what could have happened to me and my brother if my uncle hadnât decided to call.
Iâm not sure how old I was, but I was really smallâmaybe around six. I was with a group from my church at a barbecue by a river. All the kids were swimming, and since I didnât know how to swim yet, I stayed in the shallow water where it was only waist-deep.
At some point, an older girlâmaybe around 13âcame up and started playing with me. We were splashing each other and messing around. The strange thing was that I didnât recognize her, even though I knew everyone else there. No one seemed to be paying attention to us.
She started pushing me farther and farther into deeper water, to the point where I couldnât touch the bottom. She kept laughing the whole time. My head kept going underwater, and every time I tried to grab onto her, she would knock my hands away easily. The current slowly pulled me farther from everyone while I struggled to stay afloat.
I was panicking. I tried to yell, but I could barely get a breath before going under again. Whenever my feet touched the mud for a second, she would just push me back out. I couldnât understand why she was laughing. I genuinely thought I was going to drown, and no one seemed to notice.
Of all people to step in, it was my childhood bully, Zachary. He had always been mean to meâmentally and physicallyâbut that day, he saved me. He came over, told her to get away from me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me back to where I could stand.
Then he just ran off and went back to playing with the other kids like nothing had happened. The girl had already gone off somewhere too. I kept playing, and like a lot of things from back then, I didnât tell anyone until I was much older. Iâm pretty sure I never saw that girl again.
If youâre from England, more notably around London, you may have heard of the Croydon cat k**ler. This arsehole lures cats towards him and then brutally k**ls them. They even remove the microchip and place the body near the family home so that the shock level is higher.
I donât live in Croydon, I live in an area of south east London called Bexley. I have two cats. A couple of days ago, a road away from mine, someone stumbled on the remains of a black cat missing its head in a skip. Some believed it to be foxes, even though I donât know many foxes who carry knives around with them and are able to cut clean lines. The police have even been pushing this off in Croydon as foxes.
The cat was taken to our local vet, and the vet there determined it was done by a person and not by another animal. The police finally took notice down here.
Only, I always call my cats from the back garden when itâs dinner time (my house backs onto a different but very close alleyway), and tonight, when I shouted for my oldest cat Alfie, I heard a few seconds later, âAlfie!â from the alleyway. My cats are both with me currently, and they arenât leaving anytime soon.
To the sick f*ck who wasnât shown enough love as a child by mummy and daddy, know that if I ever meet you and catch you, I will skin you alive and hang you from a tree with your minuscule cock hanging out of your mouth. I promise.
EDIT: SNARL have investigated and are continuing to investigate this and have also confirmed this was done by a person and not a fox.
Which of these stories genuinely terrified you the most?
What are the scariest encounters that youâve ever personally had with other people in real life? What happened, and how did you react?
If you’d like to share your personal experiences, youâre welcome to do so in the comments section below. Weâll keep an eye out for your own âLetâs Not Meetâ stories.
My fathers best friend, a man and his wife that I have known since I was a baby always unsettled me.
His wife hated me (she hated kids) and he would pay attention to me, watch me, even if I ignored him. By the time I was 12 I knew things about him that I shouldn’t know, like favorite s*x jokes/positions/preferences, you know, stuff that you may say to your best friend (my dad)… but not with their 12 year old daughter around.
When I turned 16 there was a night where he was over and i was in a spaghetti strap shirt and night pants, about to go to bed, saying goodnight to everyone in the house. My dad had gone to the bathroom and this guys wife was in rehab for d**gs so she wasn’t there.
He got up from the table and went to give me a hug goodnight. This was really weird since I never initiated any hugging and he would never initiate one with me. This hug lasted forever… my arms at my sides, his arms trapping me against him.
He finally released me from the hug but placed his hands on my arms and looked at me. This look still makes my skin crawl. He looks down at my chest and whispers “wow… you are getting so much bigger” his thumbs are ghosting over my arms and closer to my chest. I was too startled and unnerved that I froze. I couldn’t think to move.
This man, a man that helped my dad change my diapers, was lusting over how big my b**bs got when I was 16 years old.
Thankfully, before anything got worse my father got out of the bathroom and this guy backed away. I would never go around him after that, I told my dad that when he would be there I was not going to stay there. Marvin, let’s not meet again.
A handful of years ago, my washing machine quit working. As a mother to two young boys, this was practically a minor emergency. So I packed us up and headed to the nearest laundromat, boys in tow.
The kids were being kidsâwatching the laundry spin in the machines, playing with their little cars, etc. The owner of the laundromat, a middle-aged Asian man, came out and started talking to them. Not in a creepy way at firstâhe just seemed entertained by them. He gave them small candies, a quarter for the machines, things like that.
I thought he was just being nice until he started talking to me. He told me how lucky I was to have two boys, which I agreed with. But then he started saying how his wife âonlyâ gave him daughters and how shameful that was to him. At first, I thought he was joking, but the resentment was very real. He went on about wanting a new wife who could give him sons.
At that point, my husband walked inâhe had been nearby in the strip mall and stopped by to see if I needed help. That didnât deter the man at all. He congratulated my husband on having a wife who gave him sons and continued complaining about having daughters.
I started packing everything up because it was getting uncomfortable. As we were leaving, the man said to my husband, âHow much for her? Iâll give you $10,000.â
We brushed it off at first, assuming he was joking. But as I was halfway out the door, he came back with a higher offer. Thatâs when my husband told him to chill.
Weâre generally easygoing people and didnât want to escalate things or cause offense, but the whole situation was unsettling.
Laundromat man, I hope you learn to love your daughtersâand also learn that it isnât your wifeâs fault for having girls. But letâs not ever meet again.
Some background: I (28F) am a dog walker/pet sitter. Some of the dogs I walk have reactivity, including this oneâa pit/lab mix. She used to pull a lot and was incredibly reactive to other dogs on leash as soon as she saw them. Through a lot of work and training, she has come a long way, to the point where it really isnât an issue anymore, even when other ownersâ carelessness lets their dogs get too close.
On this particular walk, she was a dream the entire time. She passed multiple dogs without issue and would just look at me for the treat she knew sheâd get for behaving well. We turned down a side street that looked completely empty so I could give her a more relaxed walk, and everything was going fine for a while.
Then suddenly, someone was there.
Iâm usually very aware of my surroundings, especially since some of my walks are in less safe areas, but this guy completely caught me off guard. I donât know how, but he got about two to three feet behind us without either of us noticing. Out of nowhere, he shouted something I couldnât fully understandâI only caught the last two words: âYOUR DOG!â
Immediately, my dogâwho had no history of aggression toward peopleâjumped between us and started growling, snapping, and lunging at him. Iâm 5â3â, and this guy was at least 6â7â and very muscular, so I struggled to hold her back.
As soon as he saw her reacting like that, he threw his arms up and ran across the street without saying another word. He disappeared around a corner shortly after.
Iâve never praised a dog for reactivity before, but in that moment, I did. I gave her every treat I had left, took her home, and told her owner what happened and how their dog might have saved me.
Maybe Iâm wrong, and maybe the guy just lacked social awareness, but neither the dog nor I got that impression.
Sheâs easily my favorite client dog now. I still walk her every week, but we havenât gone down that street when itâs empty again.
Iâm really grateful for herâbut I definitely hope I never run into the âYOUR DOG!â guy again.
I have always been a lanky and unmuscular man. Needless to say, when I came face to face with a big dude holding a knife in the middle of the night, I was pretty much f**ked.
I was walking home from my closing shift on a warm summer night last year when he stepped out of the shadows and demanded my wallet. I didnât immediately reach for itâI guess I was in shockâand he stepped closer and yelled at me to empty my pockets.
When the realization set in that this guy was ready to k**l me over the meager 20 dollars I had on me, a white moth fluttered between us. To my surprise, the mugger began screaming and swinging his knife at the bug, which only made it fly around more erratically. Those fierce eyes that had been locked on me just seconds before were now full of terror, completely focused on the moth.
I took karate lessons for a few years when I was younger, so I took advantage of the situation and performed the number one move recommended by all reputable martial arts schools: I ran like hell.
I ran all the way home, occasionally glancing back, but I never saw him following me. I guess he had other things to deal with.
So, a lesson for all wannabe criminals: before attempting to commit a crime, maybe deal with your dumb phobias first.
I was maybe around 13â14 years old at the time, and I had recently been allowed to stay home alone. Every now and then, when I was by myself, I would hear sounds coming from upstairs, and Iâd instinctively call my mom. She told me it was just the house âsettling in,â sharing a story about how she used to hear similar noises in her old house.
After many instances of hearing sounds, I decided that the next time I was home alone, I would stay completely silent and make as little noise as possible. For the first half hour, there was nothingânot a single sound. I eventually got bored and felt safe, so I went to grab the TV remote. But just before I picked it up, I heard a huge crash upstairs, followed by running footsteps.
At that point, I was certain someone was in the house. The noises kept coming, consistent enough that there was no doubt someone was upstairs.
Fourteen-year-old me came up with a quick plan. Being a skinny, non-threatening girl, I grabbed a kitchen knife. Then I took a shoe and propped open the front door. After a few deep breaths, I shouted in the deepest voice I could, âI know you are upstairs! I am giving you a chance to leave without me calling the police. I have propped the front door open and I will be in the bathroom. Be aware that I am holding a knife, and if you refuse to leave, I will call the police.â
I went into the bathroom with the knife, absolutely scared to d**th that someone might open the door. I waited and waited, until I heard a sound that still scares me to this dayâthe front door closing, and the shoe being moved.
I quickly locked the door and turned on the alarm system. I hope I never see or hear that person again.
I only found out about this a few years ago. Iâm 28 now, but when I was about 5, my mom and I lived in a duplex off a main road in a wooded area. We were on one side, and on the other was a woman and her son. He was studying to be a teacher. My mom was about 25 at the time, and he was in his early 20s.
He would often come over to talk to my mom. She said he asked a lot of questions about me and even asked if he could take me for walks in the woods. She always said no.
My mom worked in the operating room at the local hospital and was often on call, so I usually stayed at my grandmaâs house on weekends. One night, while I was at my grandmaâs, my mom was home alone sleeping. She woke up in the middle of the nightâsheâs not sure if she heard something or just felt someone in the roomâbut when she opened her eyes, she saw feet in socks sticking out from the end of her bed.
She grabbed her bedside lamp and was about to hit the intruder when our neighbor said her name and identified himself. He couldnât explain why he was naked except for socks, but he begged her not to tell his mother.
My mom called the police. She later went to court and gave a victim impact statement because she was terrified he might become a teacher and be around children. She believes he may have been there for me that night and is incredibly grateful I wasnât home.
We moved immediately. She couldnât stay there another night.
So, neighbor who broke into our house wearing only socksâletâs not meet, and hopefully you are nowhere near children.
This happened a few weeks ago, and Iâm still a bit shaken up by it. My husband and I like to take long drives in the desert with our dog. We live outside Las Vegas and are lucky to have access to beautiful areas for stargazing or using a telescope. My husband got one for his birthday in October and was excited to try it out.
We drove our Kia up to a popular overlook, and he set up the telescope. He showed me a bunch of constellations, and we even saw a sh**ting star. Our dog stayed in the car with two windows rolled down.
My dog is a b**ch, straight upâthereâs a reason they call female dogs that. Sheâs an American cattle dog and has protected me before during a home invasion. Sheâs very protective of both me and my husband.
At some point, my husband needed to pee and told me to wait in the car. I got in and locked the door. I was browsing Reddit when I heard gravel crunching. Thinking it was him, I said, âThat was fast.â
Then my dog went berserkâsnarling and barking. I turned around and saw it wasnât my husband. It was some random guy.
The idiot made a huge mistakeâhe stuck his hand through the open window, right next to a 63-pound protective dog. She grabbed his hand, and suddenly he was screaming, I was screaming, and my husband was yelling as he ran back toward us, still pulling up his pants.
The dog let go, and the guy took off running. I called the cops while my husband tried to chase him, but the guy was fast. The police eventually showed up and said theyâd keep an eye out, but also suggested we avoid that area at night.
Safe to say, weâre not going back there. The dog definitely earned herself a Dairy Queen cup that night.
This is something Iâve kept to myself for a long time, but I figured that nowâyears laterâI can probably tell my story safely.
On a Saturday night, I was on my way to the bus stop to pick up a friend. The plan was to have a drink together. In the city center, a not-so-healthy-looking guy asked if he could borrow my phone to make a quick call. I denied it, saying I didnât have a data plan (I lied), and kept walking.
The guy followed me all the way to the bus stop. It seemed like he was waiting for the bus too. Then my friend called, so I took out my phone and answered. While I was on the call, the guy stood right behind me. I wasnât fully aware of how close he was, but I felt watched and held my phone tightly.
Then he tried to grab my phone from behind while I was talking. Iâm not sure why, but I turned around and asked, âWhat are you doing?â He replied, âI thought you had no data plan, now give me that phone!â I said, âNo way.â
He tried to grab it again. He wasnât armed, so I decided to run and call the police.
The truth is, before the robbery attempt, I had accidentally dropped my phone and cracked the screen badly. I didnât have the money to replace it. I told my insurance that the damage happened during the robbery attempt.
The guy got caught pretty quickly since he was already known to the police, and he ended up paying for my new phone.
Impertinent stranger, letâs not meet againâor you might end up funding my next upgrade.
This post is short and to the point. Itâs been the only time I was truly in danger.
I was around 6 years old. My family and I were leaving the supermarket, and I was begging my mom for candy. I didnât get any, so I threw a huge fit. I started stomping and crying at the exit and told my mom I wouldnât leave without it. She said, âFine, stay here then,â and walked toward the car.
That made me cry even louder. As she got farther away, a man approached me and said, âGet in my van, boy, we will catch her.â
I stopped crying immediately. I already knew about stranger danger, and I just looked at him and felt that something was very wrong.
My mom rushed back, grabbed my hand, and pulled me away. She didnât say anything to him, just gave him a d**h glare.
I was completely quiet the whole ride home. I still think about what could have happened if she had taken longer to come back.
When I was 17 (F), my older sister (23) took me to the mall to get a cell phone. The guy who sold it to us, probably in his early 20s, showed us several options, let me pick the phone, choose a numberâpretty standardâand set us up with a plan. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Then I got a text: âHey, itâs the guy who sold you your new phone.â I repliedâI donât even remember what I said. I was young and naive; this was about 13 years ago. What I do remember is that he kept texting and calling me.
He kept telling me how attractive I was and that we should be together. I told him it wasnât a good time because I was about to leave for the entire summer. He asked where I was going and even offered to come along. I didnât have any real plansâI was going to live out of my carâand I definitely didnât want a stranger tagging along. It felt really strange that heâd suggest quitting his job and leaving the state for someone heâd only spoken to in person for about 15 minutes.
I told him it was creepy and asked him to leave me alone and stop contacting me. He kept calling, and I kept ignoring him. Eventually, we had to file a complaint and change my number.
So, phone guy whose name I still canât forgetâletâs not meet again.
My dad and I went hiking a few days ago. My dad is a waterfall fanatic and wants to see as many as possible, so we were hiking along a really pretty trail. We were following a river, it was flowing nicely, there were mountains all around us, and the trail weaved around big, beautiful boulders.
I was about 30 feet ahead of him, looking for a spot to stop for a picnic lunch. As I rounded a blind curve in the trail, I just froze.
Sitting on a stump maybe ten feet off to the right side of the trail was a guy. He was wearing one of those colorful baja hoodies with the hood pulled up and a half mask with rabbit ears.
He saw me and stood up right as my dad came around the corner. The three of us just stood there sizing each other up in silence until my dad spoke.
âWhatâs up, buddy?â
The masked man tilted his head like he was deciding what to do with us, then said, âNot much. You arenât the guys Iâm waiting for. Have a good day.â
Then he turned and jogged off quickly into the woods. As he moved, we saw he had a large hunting knife strapped to his lower back and a pistol on his hip.
We lost sight of him pretty quickly. We hadnât seen a single person on the trail all day, and weâd been hiking for almost three hours.
Needless to say, we skipped the waterfall and turned around immediately. Once we got off the trail, we reported it to the local forest service and the police, but they said there wasnât much they could do besides keep an eye out.
The guy didnât have a backpack, water, or anything, which made it seem like he either had supplies stashed nearby or was camping somewhere close and waiting.
I hate to admit it, but part of me really wanted to go after him and ask who he was waiting forâand why.
This is a story about a man named John that I met while working retail.
John is an older white man in his mid fifties, well dressed, well spoken, with shoulder length steel gray hair tied back in a low ponytail. At the time, I was working at a farm and pet supply store.
I was called over to help a customer look at electric fences and shock collars for dogs (which I am steadfastly against, but I had to help). I asked him what I could help him with, and he said he was interested in an electric fence for his dogs since he had a cabin in the woods and wanted to make sure they didnât get away.
Then he said, âOh yes… Iâm looking to use this shock collar… maybe on you…?â
Thoroughly creeped out, I tried to laugh it off and told him no thank you. I got him someone who knew more than I did and thought that would be the end of it.
Of course it wasnât.
The next time he saw me, he said, âI have been looking for you. I bought what I wanted, I didnât like what you said, I wanted to slap you the next time I saw you!â
I told him if he ever hit me, Iâd absolutely hit him back.
A few days later, he told me he would really, really liKe to take me out to lunch one day. I politely declined.
He kept coming into the store and looking for me. Most of the time, Iâd see him before he saw me. One day, I hid until I thought he had left, but he found me in my department.
He said, âJust so you know, Iâm not dressed up for you today. I have a meeting with the bank, but if I didnât, I would be taking you out for lunch. You know, I can tell you dyed your hair. You look so beautiful, but that doesnât mean anything to you, does it? It might mean something if you liked me back.â
He was never banned from the store, even after one of my managers heard him say things like that to me. But my coworkers would warn me when he came in and help me avoid him until he left.
I havenât seen him since I quit, and Iâm very thankful for that.
When I was way younger I had gone into my bedroom alone to change into pjs and my mom said I had come back and asked her why Peter Pan was at my window and if we could let him in. She of course ran to my bedroom and sure enough someone had pulled the screen off my window and had opened it slightly. Needless to say we moved shortly after that. I was oblivious as to what was wrong because, hey, I got to meet Peter Pan. Lol.
Years ago, when I was 11, I was home alone with my 7-year-old brother. It was around 9 PM, dark, and pouring rain. We were reading in our room, which was right next to the front door and had a big window with the blinds open.
Then the doorbell rang, followed by knocking. I thought it might be my parents, though it was strange they didnât use the garage or their keys. I looked outside for their carânothing but rain. As I got closer to the door, I heard a manâs voice, definitely not my fatherâs, shouting through the storm: âWould you like some cookies? Weâre selling Girl Scout cookies!â
That immediately felt wrong, considering the weather and the time. I stayed quiet and checked the peephole, then glanced through the side window. My heart dropped. There was no parent and childâjust a grown man, maybe in his late 50s, standing there alone with no cookies, completely soaked.
I remember the awful feeling of checking the locks while he stood just on the other side of the door. He must have heard me. Those two locks felt like the only thing between me and something dangerous. He kept knocking and repeating the same line about cookies while I stood there, unsure what to do.
Then I realized the blinds in our room were still open, and the lights were on. As I turned the corner, I saw the man peering through the window, possibly looking at my brother, who was still reading and unaware of what was happening.
My heart started racing. I quickly turned off the lights and rushed to close the blinds, fully visible to him. Then I checked every lock in the house, shut all the blinds, and told my brother to go sit in one of the interior closets with no windows. I didnât tell him what was going onâI didnât want to scare him. For some reason, I didnât call the police or my parents either. I just waited in the hallway until the man finally left.
Even now, thinking about it gives me chills. So many things could have gone wrong that night. Ever since, one of my biggest fears has been someone reaching an unlocked door before I do.
So about four years ago, I was living with an ex-boyfriend (weâll call him useless prick) and his aunt (pill popper Pam) and her boyfriend (loser Len).
I woke up in the middle of the night and had to pee. Useless prick was asleep in bed when I got up. I walked across the house, and Pill popper Pamâs door was openâshe and Loser Len were both passed out. I made my way sleepily to the bathroom and saw the light was on. Since I knew everyone was asleep, I assumed Pill popper Pam left the light on and opened the door.
I was wrong.
I saw multiple things in a few seconds. The first thing I remember is that it smelled horrible and that someone had just taken a shower based on the steam. Secondly, there were clothes folded up into squares and organized on the ground. There was a man on the toilet.
I, having manners and still half asleep, jumped, apologized, and closed the door. I panicked and went back to my room and tried to wake useless prick, but he was, of course, useless.
I texted Pill popper Pam and said, âhey there is a man in the bathroom.â She texted back, âI know, itâs okay, heâs a friend of mine.â This calmed me down, and I messaged back something like, âokay thanks just checking!â She replied, âno problem go back to sleep,â and I did.
The next day, I brought it up when everyone was around. Pill popper Pam said she never texted me, she was high and passed out cold, and she would never allow a friend to just come in like that. She said it sounded like it was the homeless man who walked our street constantly.
He had used her phone.
Just a little note before we get started: my son looks nothing like me, and I have a baby face, so when people see us together, they assume Iâm the babysitter, not his mother.
I had just gotten off work, and my husband was waiting for me with our son, who was four months old at the time. We ordered food to go, and my husband went to use the bathroom while my coworkers cooed over the baby at the pickup counter.
I noticed an older man watching us, but I brushed it off since my son usually gets a lot of attention. He was also a regular at that McDonaldâs and hadnât raised any red flags before.
He came up, smiled at my son, and asked if he could hold him. I politely declined.
Then he pulled a twenty out of his wallet. âWhy donât you take this and get yourself a sandwich and leave the baby with me,â he said, trying to hand me the money.
âNo, thank you,â I said, trying to stay polite. I needed my job, and we had just gotten a new general manager, so I wanted to make a good impression.
âArenât you hungry? Itâs so hard to work two jobs. Iâm sure if anything happened, the parents wouldnât blame you.â
I was about to go off on him when my husband came out of the bathroom and stepped between us.
âOh, you must be the father,â the man said. He offered my husband the money too, but didnât mention taking the baby this time.
We started leaving the store, but the man followed us, still offering money. Finally, my husband stopped suddenly, and the man walked right into him. My husband just stared him down until he turned around and went back inside.
A few weeks later, the man came back to the store and started ranting about how he could have given that baby a better life than that young man. I told him I was the mother and that he could get his sausage biscuit somewhere else because he wasnât welcome there anymore.
Creep who tried to buy my sonâletâs not meet again.
This happened last night.
I had just fallen asleep. I hear my dog outside losing his mind. Only to be followed with a notification on my phone “There is motion at your front door”, thanks Ring.
I open my phone to the live view of what’s happening, only to be greeted by an eyeball directly in front of the camera, and a man whispering/mumbling to himself. He proceeds to knock and ding the doorbell.
Now i live in a suburb, quiet town, wholesome neighbors, all good people. Luckily I decided to actually lock my door today. He then begins trying his luck at the doorknob, and the window, standing off to the side, all the while i hear mumbling and whispers.
After my SO let’s him know that we are going to call the police, he gets all huffy and puffy saying how he was just looking for his dog “Fido”… uh huh.. by trying to enter my house, and be a creep on the video… in fact, here you go, see for yourself: video
When I was a kid, I used to go up to the Smoky Mountains and stay with my friend and her family for a few days to a week. One time, my friendâs dad drove us down to Asheville, NC, which was about an hour and a half away.
My friend and I had put on a lot of makeup that dayâwe were preteen girls just having funâbut it was still very obvious that we were kids.
We went into a Mellow Mushroom to sit down and eat when a man, probably in his 30s or 40s, started talking to my friend. The situation quickly turned unsettling when it became clear that he thought my friendâs dad was a pimp and that he was interested in my friend.
Iâm pretty sure my friendâs dad threatened to disembowel the guy. We left immediately and drove back to the mountain house. Later, he explained to us what had happened and why we had to leave so suddenly.
I donât know how long he was in my bed or why he was there. All I know is that he woke me up with a kiss, which I immediately wiped off with my hand.
I was fully clothed, which made me think nothing had happened, but the buttons on my pants were undone. I donât know if they had been like that before or if he undid them. Under the sheets, my shirt was pushed up, and he had his hands on my waist, holding me close.
I moved his hands off me, and he went back to sleep. I sat up in shock and caught a glimpse of his face. I asked, âWhat are you doing?â He yawned and said, âResting.â
I clenched my fists, ready to defend myself. At that moment, he said, âOkay, Iâll leave,â and walked out of my room.
I was so shaken that I pushed my dresser against the door to make sure he couldnât come back. I immediately took a shower and felt relieved that nothing worse had happenedâat least, as far as I knew. I had gone to bed around 11, and when I woke up, it was 5 AM.
I had a strange dream that night. In it, I was in a zoo where the zookeeper had let all the animals out of their cages. One of them was a tiger. When it saw me, it immediately tried to attack me, and I fought back. We were wrestling, but I lost. As it pinned me down, instead of biting me, it started licking me.
Thatâs when I woke upâto him kissing me. In my half-asleep state, I had been fighting him.
This happened last year, at the peak of my partying stage. I was at a friendâs house drinking, and around 2am I was pretty drunk and decided to call an Uber to take me home.
The car pulled up, and I have a habit of sitting in the front with the driver. He was a young man, probably mid to late twenties. I donât remember much of what we talked about, but I do remember his compliments going from âYouâre really prettyâ to âYouâre really hot,â and he kept saying I reminded him of his mom. I found that really strange, especially since I was 19, but I tried to laugh it off because I didnât want to seem rude.
I asked him to stop at a burger drive-thru because I was hungry. We got the food, and he was supposed to take me home, but I noticed he was driving in the complete opposite direction.
I checked the map, and it kept telling him to turn around. I asked him where we were going, and he looked over at me and said, âOh, you donât wanna come over to my house?â
I immediately sobered up and said, âNo⌠please take me home.â
I donât remember if we talked after that, but thankfully he did take me home, and I never heard from him again. I reported him the next day.
What really bothers me is that he clearly knew I was drunk and tried to take advantage of that. I canât imagine what could have happened if I hadnât spoken up.
Safe to say, I wonât be taking Ubers alone at night anymore. Creepy Uber driverâletâs not meet again.
Some context: Me and my ex were together for two months, and within that time he stole money from me and blamed it on me when I asked him about it. We broke up after I went for advice on Reddit. My routine is pretty simpleâI go to college most of the day, then to work, then home to do homework, and repeat.
The story: I was at my job, just working, when I got an alert on my phone. I figured Iâd check the cameras when I got home. Over the next two hours, I got three more alerts.
On the bus ride home, I decided to check the footage. I watched my ex take a hammer to my back door. I kept watching as he struggled with the deadbolt, and then I saw him get inside.
I called the police faster than I thought I could and told them there was a break-in at my address. I kept watching the videoâabout 15 minutes after he entered, he left with a duffle bag.
When I got home, the police were already there. I identified myself as the homeowner and went inside to check the damage. The place was trashed. My duffle bag and some jewelry were missing.
I gave the police the footage and told them it was my ex, along with where he had been staying. I also filed for a restraining order and had the deadbolt replaced.
Not long after, they caught him at a pawn shop. He had broken in to âget backâ at me for dumping him.
Now I have a restraining order, and heâs in jail for a year for breaking and entering.
Ex, letâs not meet again.
TL;DR: My ex broke into my house, I got a restraining order, and he ended up in jail.
A few months back, after a night of drinking, I hooked up with a much younger bloke. It was average, and we messaged a few times after, but I just wasnât interested.
Tonightâliterally an hour agoâhe started calling me. I ignored it since I was in bed and it was the middle of the night. The calls kept coming. Then I heard someone walking outside my house, knocking on my windows. My six-year-old was next to me in bed.
I kept ignoring the calls. I probably should have told him to go away, but I just lay there frozen in fear. This went on for about 45 minutes.
Then I heard him inside my house. My door opened.
I said, âGet out of my house.â
He said, âAre you sure?â
Umm⌠YES.
He will be deleted and blocked. My heart is still racing. It really made me realize how vulnerable I am as a woman.
Creepy bloke who breaks into peopleâs housesâletâs not meet again.
This happened when I was around 5/6 years old but I remember everything like it happened yesterday.
We had gone to a funeral of my momâs cousin in another town a couple hours out (by car). We got to the house and my mom went to see her aunt to give her condolences and I followed holding her hand. I guess during the hugging and the crying my mom let go of my hand.
So I started looking for her hand, but not really looking up, just keeping my hand out for her to grab it while calling her (there were A LOT of people and the house was small so I could only see people standing around me).
A couple minutes later I found herâor so I thoughtâbecause she took my hand and started walking towards the door to leave. I thought to myself as I was putting on my shoes, wow we came such a long drive to be here for five minutes, which led me to look up at the lady holding my hand.
I instantly realized it wasnât my mom (they had both been wearing black coats) and said âoh youâre not my momâ and snatched my hand back and ran towards the room I had lost my mom at.
Honestly, at that age I left it at that and just thought âOh how funny I held the wrong ladyâs handâ while thinking it was my mom. I thought this for almost two decades until one day it just hit me⌠that lady was taking me away.
She knew I wasnât her daughter and she took my hand and was leaving the house with me. If I hadnât looked up and had actually made it out the door, who knows what would have happened.
It was creepy because she didnât say a word to me from beginning to end⌠and to this day I have no idea who it was.
But creepy lady who tried to steal me during a funeral, please letâs not meet again.
This happened last summer.
Me, my husband, and our kids live like 5 minutes from a local park. My kids, who were 2 & 4 (girls) at the time, were super bored, so I suggested walking to the park. We put them in their little red wagon, grabbed some water bottles, a few toys, and headed out. The walk there was fine, nothing happened.
We got to the park, the kids started playing, and I noticed a white car parked across from the park. I saw an older man just sitting in the car watching usâlike deliberately staring. He never turned his head or looked away. It was like he wasnât even trying to hide it.
I told my husband, and he told me to grab my phone and get a picture of him. I started recording, holding my phone up so he could see that I knew he was watching. This a**hole smiled creepily at me while eyeing my girls.
I grabbed both my kids, put them behind me, and told them to stay there and not move. My husband started walking toward the car and yelled, âYou better stop staring at my kids, a$$hole!â
The guy just kept smiling weirdly. As my husband got closer, he pulled out and drove away. But I was still recording, so I got the license plate.
I called the cops and told them what happened. The next day, they called us back and asked us to come in and show them the video. We did, and they found him later that day and arrested him.
Turns out he was a s*x offender and wasnât supposed to be anywhere near parks or schools because of previous convictions. When they arrested him, he was at another park not far from ours.
This guy wasnât even trying to hide the fact that he was a creeper.
Years agoâover half a decade agoâI got on the subway at rush hour to head home after a long day of classes. I was exhausted. There are periods in my life where I canât sleep. No matter how tired I am, it takes me hours to fall asleep, and no matter how late I do fall asleep, I wake up well before sunrise. Repeat.
So there I was, packed tightly into the train, everyone pressed side-by-side so we could all fit. Like any polite person, I had taken off my bag and was holding it with one hand between my legs so I wouldnât take up too much space.
I was spacing outâon top of the lack of sleep, I had made the âgreat decisionâ to schedule all my classes on two days, which meant I had just sat through 9 hours of lectures. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the guy standing to my right kept glancing at me. I didnât think much of it at first, but he kept doing it for the entire 10-minute ride.
We reached my stop, which was also his stop. Then I felt a tug on my bag and quickly looked over, thinking, âHeâs not actually trying to steal my bag, is he?â
Nope.
Turns out I hadnât been holding my bag at allâI had been holding a part of his coat sleeve the entire time, like a little kid holding onto their mom.
By the time I realized, he was already rushing out the door, and I didnât even get a chance to apologize. I still feel embarrassed every time I think about it.
When I was three, in 1986, my parents and I lived in Tucson, AZ. My younger sister was a little under one year old. We lived in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom brick house with a four-foot chain-link fence around the backyard. There was an alley running behind it, and it was a relatively safe neighborhood.
We also had a dog named Bandit, who was half pug and half cocker spaniel. Weâd had him since I was about six months old.
One day, my mom was inside doing dishes and cleaning while I was playing in the backyard. She would let me play alone because the yard was fenced and I couldnât get out. The kitchen window faced the backyard, so she would check on me periodically.
She said she was washing dishes when Bandit suddenly started barking and growling. She looked out the window and saw a white man in his 40s leaning over the fence, trying to coax me over to him.
Bandit had positioned himself between me and the man and was trying to bite him. My mom ran outside, and as soon as the man saw her, he took off running down the alley.
She grabbed me and ran inside to call the police. They came and investigated, but they never caught him.
My dad wasnât a big animal lover, but after that day he had nothing but admiration for Bandit, who saved me from being kidnapped. He wasnât a big dog or particularly intimidating, but he was the best boy.
He d**d of old age when I was 14. I still remember how he followed us kids everywhere and was always there to protect us.
I still miss him all these years later and get teary thinking about him. Thank you, Bandit. I will always love you.
Back when I was in the third grade, there was a hill with a playground at the top. One day during recess, while everyone was playing, a middle-aged man wearing nothing but cargo shorts came to the bottom of the hill and leaned over a fence.
He started calling kids over to him. When they came over, he wrapped them in blue tape, mostly around their hands.
This went on for about fifteen minutes until the fourth grade science teacherâan absolute saintâran down toward him. She can be very intimidating when she wants to be (she later became the principal).
The second he saw her, he walked away. He didnât even seem worried about getting caught.
So, creepy blue tape guy, letâs not meet.
This happened back in 2015 or 2016 when my ex-boyfriend and I went camping in Mendocino, California.
A few sites over was this tiny green one-person tentâthe kind that barely fits a body. What struck me right away was how empty the site looked. No cooler, no chair, no lantern, no shoes outside. Just the little tent, zipped up tight.
We went to bed, and sometime after 10pm it started.
Laughter.
Not a group around a fire. Not drunk campers. And definitely not an animalâI know what barred owls and coyotes sound like. This was human laughter.
At first I thought it might be a radio or a Bluetooth speaker. But it never stopped. Not once. All night long, until sunrise. Same tone, same rhythm, no pauses for breath. Too steady, too repetitive to be a person in psychosis or on dr*gs.
It sounded mechanical. Like a loop.
Thatâs what makes it worse. Because if it wasnât someone actually laughing, then it was someone who had recorded laughter beforehand and brought it out into the woods⌠to sit in that tiny tent, in the dark, and listen to it for hours.
When we woke up around 6:30â7am, the laughter was still going. We packed up fast and left without ever seeing whoâor whatâwas inside.
Even now, years later, I canât shake the thought that someone chose to spend the night like that. A tent, a recording of endless laughter, and the silence of the woods around them.
Letâs not meet.
Even tho my family left for the weekend whoever tried to break in definitely knew I was inside. I was up till 3am with all the lights on, my dog who slept in my room didn’t hear anything either (or maybe I didn’t hear the dog).
The weirdest thing is that I’m the only one in my family who uses the spare key, and I hide it in a very safe spot that can’t be found accidentally, this person must have been stalking me. This is how I found the door this morning when I let the dog out.
When I was in elementary school, about seven or eight years old, my mom used to drop my older brother and me off a few blocks away in the morning. My brotherâs middle school was about a block from mine, so weâd walk together to his school, then Iâd walk the rest of the way alone or with friends.
One day after school, I was walking alone. About halfway to the pickup spot, a woman I vaguely recognizedâmaybe from church or a friend of my parents, I couldnât quite place herâpulled up next to me in her car and slowly followed me.
She knew my name and called out for me to get in the car. I thought about it for a second, but decided not to since my mom hadnât told me anyone else would be picking me up that day.
When I kept walking, she said again, â(my name), Iâm supposed to take you home today, get in the car.â I ignored her and kept going.
She sounded more annoyed this time and raised her voice: â(name) GET IN THE CAR! YOUR MOTHER IS GOING TO BE VERY MAD AT YOU IF YOU DONâT LISTEN!â
I kept walking. Eventually, she seemed to realize I wasnât getting in, and she drove off.
I made it to the usual pickup spot, and my mom was there waiting like normal.
I forgot aboutâor maybe repressedâthis memory for years, but thinking about it now still gives me chills.
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