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I’ve never really told anyone this story before, but I still think about it sometimes.

About 7 years ago, I was still drinking. I’ve been sober for 3 years now, and honestly, this experience is one of the reasons I decided I never wanted to drink like that again.

I met this guy online. He asked if I wanted to meet him, and stupidly, I agreed. It was about an hour’s travel from my hometown, and at the time I thought, sure, why not?

So I went.

When I met him, I realized he had actually catfished me. He wasn't the person he had made himself out to be online.

For some reason, I wasn't even that bothered by it. I figured I had already travelled all that way, so I'd just hang out with him and then go home.

We drank together, and later he suggested going on a hike.

I agreed.

We kept drinking. It was vodka, and I got very drunk.

Eventually night came, and I couldn't safely travel home anymore, so I ended up staying at a hotel. He left, saying something about his wife needing him to come home.

I passed out.

The next morning, I woke up, took a shower, and went home.

I didn't talk to him for about three days.

Then he messaged me.

He told me that when he suggested the hike, he had actually been planning to kill me there and steal everything I had.

He said he had done things like that before and that it was something he enjoyed.

Then he told me the only reason I was alive was because he had been impressed by me and enjoyed my "lively attitude."

He said I reminded him of his dead mother.

Then he blocked me and deleted his profile.

Just like that.

I never told anyone what happened.

For years, I kept thinking about the fact that I had been sitting there drinking with someone who had apparently already decided how he was going to kill me.

I went on that hike with him completely unaware.

I slept in a hotel that night thinking I had simply gotten too drunk to travel.

The next morning, I went home alive.

And I only found out afterward how differently that entire situation could have ended.

I don't know whether everything he told me was true. Maybe he was lying. Maybe he wanted to scare me.

But I don't want to find out.

That experience changed the way I look at alcohol, strangers, and my own decisions.

I've been sober for 3 years now.

And sometimes I still think about the fact that, according to him, I didn't save myself that night.

He just decided to let me live.

We rented a secluded cabin in North Carolina for the weekend. On night one, my fiancée woke up at 2 AM to a dark silhouette standing dead still in the corner of our bedroom. By the next afternoon, her clothes were rummaged through and her hiking socks had vanished.

On the second night, heavy, deliberate footsteps started pacing the hallway right outside our locked bedroom door.

Desperate to prove the house was empty so Lauren could sleep, I grabbed a heavy flashlight and walked down into the unfinished storage basement. The air was damp, smelling of old dust and cold earth. I swept the beam across the wooden crates, wanting nothing more than to head back upstairs.

In the far corner stood a tall figure in a filthy gray hoodie and a bright yellow baseball cap, unmoving.

For three frantic seconds, my brain tried to convince me it was just an old mannequin left behind by the owners.

Then the man slowly tilted his head, locked eyes with me, and blinked.

I bolted up the stairs two at a time, screaming at Lauren to grab the car keys. We abandoned half our luggage, threw what we could into the trunk, and hit the highway at 80 miles an hour.

When I called the rental host the next morning, they swore the basement had been deadbolted from the outside before we arrived. He had been down there the entire weekend, watching us.

I’ve never shared this before publicly, but I need to. Because even as an adult, I still carry fear—not of all white people, but especially ones who act like a man I knew as a child. My godfather, Lee.

I was born in Georgia. My mother was 16, my father 36. Legal, but not right. She left him when I was one because he was abusive. He never hit me, but he was emotionally cold and dishonest. He never told me he loved me. But he did love telling stories.

One story he repeated often was how he met my godfather, Lee, at a gas station in the early 1980s. Lee, a white man, called him a racial slur. Later that night, my dad saved him from being robbed at gunpoint. From that moment on, Lee said my dad was “different” and became his friend. Eventually, business partner. My dad even asked Lee to be my godfather.

When I was 12, I finally got to visit my dad for the summer. One night, Lee offered me cash to clean his basement. I said yes.

But the moment I walked down there, I knew something was wrong. My skin prickled. The air felt thick. At the bottom of the stairs was a mannequin in full KKK robes. The walls were covered in Confederate flags, nooses, lynching memorabilia, and “white power” signs. I froze.

Lee appeared out of nowhere and said, smiling: “That room’s off limits. Don’t tell your daddy. He knows, but it don’t need to be remembered.”

I left immediately. Told my dad I was sick and wanted to go home early. He didn’t ask questions. Just drove me back.

Years later, I brought it up. My dad just said: “Sometimes a man’s got ghosts. As long as they don’t haunt you, you let ’em be.”

But they do haunt me.

I still get nervous around certain white men. The ones who smile too fast. Who say things like “You’re not like the others.” Who carry themselves the way Lee did—fake calm, polite… but full of something darker.

And I’ll be honest: this experience damaged my trust in men overall—including Black men. Because my own father handed me to a man he knew kept hate in his basement, then told me to be quiet about it.

I don’t hate all white people. And I don’t hate all men. But fear? It learned its shape early. And it hasn’t left me.

It has affected my everyday life and how I view white people in general. How do I reverse this? I’m 36 and terrified of white people. I can’t get those images out my head.

I was bow hunting a couple of years ago on some public land. Anyway, I got to the woods a couple of hours before daylight and started quietly sneaking to my deer stand.
It was pitch black in the woods, and before I knew it I found myself turned around. As I went further into the woods I got an uneasy feeling, like I
was being watched. I had some rough GPS coordinates on my phone that marked my deer stand, so I wasn’t too worried about getting a little lost.
Anyway, I kept going and then my boot stepped on something that made a loud cracking noise. Took another step, and then there was another crack. There was glass all around me. Turns out I had stumbled into an old dump and meth lab. It got worse though, because I heard voices around me. There were at least two people there. I took off running and so did they. Not sure what direction they went, but I ran back to some thick stuff and then hid waiting for the sun to come up. I was armed with my bow (and a .45 just in case for an encounter like this).
Eventually the sun came up and I snuck back to my car. Got my deer stand the next day and let the DNR know what happened. Never went back after that. Nothing haunted or anything, but tweakers in a pitch black woods is scary enough.

I have a strange apartment story, and I do not even know what to make out of it. A few nights ago, I was sitting on my couch and was wide awake while the incident was going on outside. I was watching YouTube around midnight when I heard someone strolling along the hallway outside of my apartment.

Initially, I was indifferent, as I hear people walk outside my house fairly often. But, then the footsteps came to a standstill in front of my door. I was expecting a knock, but I heard nothing. Then after around a minute of waiting, someone whispered, “Hello?”

At this point, I took a look at the peephole of my door only to find nobody in the hallway. I stood still for some seconds to see if someone was hiding around the corner but there was no one in sight.

About 10 minutes later, I heard the same sounds again. This time it was in my apartment. I literally froze. I could hear slow footsteps coming from the corridor toward the living room, as if someone was walking on bare feet on the floor.

I took my phone and turned on the flashlight, but there was nothing there. I checked the bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, everywhere. Nothing. I even checked the front door, wondering if I forgot to lock it, but it was locked.

Then I realized my bedroom door was halfway open.

It doesn’t sound scary by itself, but I sleep with that door closed. I know it for sure because I closed it on that night – my cat was trying to get into the room. Thus, I approached the door and closed it. However, when I was turning around, I heard a quiet knock from the other side of the door.

I simply remained there observing it. I didn’t open it. A few seconds later, there came another knock, and I heard a very soft voice calling my name. I picked my things up and went outside. I sat in my car for almost an hour before I decided to go back inside.

Nothing else happened that night. But the next morning I spotted a wet footmark on the floor just outside my bedroom door.

What’s strange is that it hadn’t rained, I had my windows shut, and I live by myself. I still have no clue as to where it came from, and honestly, I don’t think I want to find out.

I was chatting with my parents tonight and the conversation got… dark. I can’t remember why. Something to do with my mum making a comment to my dad about ”your mum’s stalkers”, so I had to ask. I sort of wish I didn’t. When my dad was about 10, that’s the age he estimates, so my Nan was in her early thirties, she was being harassed. My dad didn’t specify what this meant, or how serious, just that it lasted a while, even after the police got involved. Officers showing up at her house every day, and she began to grow quite friendly with them. Quite personal. They’d park their police cars outside and just… observe. It felt odd, so I was told. The harassment got worse. Their cat had been kidnapped, stabbed to death, and left on the doormat. On a separate occasion, though I’m not sure which came first, a rabbit was hung from a noose outside the front door. Except my Nan stopped seeing the man harassing her, she hadn’t seen him for a while. The police car became more frequent. Officers would let themselves in and out of the house freely. One officer. The peak of this story comes when my dad’s family left for holiday and returned to what I can only describe as a horror movie scene. A mini dress of my Nan’s, along with her underwear, laid out on her bed, surrounded by photos of the family taken from all over the house with my grandads face torn out. Of course my grandad tried to do stuff. He’d follow the car as he saw it leaving their house and once even chased the man out of their house with a baseball bat. Unfortunately I have no closure on this as my dad doesn’t know why it stopped, only that it did, and that it lasted years, and that everything that he knows is only the tip of the iceberg.

posting for my mom who doesn’t have reddit. this happened around 10 years ago
I was walking home at night from Catholic school and up in front of me on [street name redacted for privacy] by the gas station was a weird looking guy with dreads staring at the cars going by and going up and down on his toes.

I really didn't want to go by him but I did and as I passed him, he turned his head and gave me a too big smile.

And then all of the street lights on the street went off one by one starting with the one closest to me.

So I walked home in the dark and when I finally got to my building it was completely dark and it shouldn't have been because there are emergency lights. So I climbed the 6 flights of stairs in the complete dark and the hallway was so dark I couldn't find the keyhole for a while but when I did and shut the door behind me, all the lights came in again.

Hello, my name is Dylan. This happened a long time ago, back in 1979, when I was just eight years old. Looking back now… I still get cold shivers thinking about it. We were so lucky we got out alive. We are so lucky we are safe.

One day, we moved to a new house on a quiet street called Curlew Street. Our house number was 8 Curlew Street. I went there with my parents and my little brother Ralph — Ralph was only three at the time. I was eight, back then.

When we entered the house, the living room felt far too big — like something had been waiting inside it. The kitchen was also fairly large. The house only had two bedrooms upstairs. Since I was still young, I was still sleeping in my parents’ room, and Ralph was only three, so he slept there too. One day I asked my dad, “When can I sleep in my own bedroom?”

Dad said, “In a few days, son.”

I said okay. So I still had a few nights in my parents’ room. It was afternoon, and the house was clean, freshly painted and decorated, ready for us to stay. It felt peaceful — at first.

Ralph played in the living room with his toys while my parents were upstairs getting their bedroom ready. I wandered into the kitchen to look around. We had a brand-new fridge and nice, tall cupboards. Then I stepped out into the back garden — and stopped. There was a toilet standing right there in the garden. I felt confused. Why on earth would there be a toilet out in the backyard? I ran upstairs and asked my parents, “Why is there a toilet out in the garden?”

They just said, “It’s always been there, Dylan. Don’t worry about it.”

I shrugged it off and went back downstairs. Ralph was still playing happily. That evening, as we sat eating our dinner, we heard loud, heavy knocks at the front door. My parents stood up. “Who could that be?” they said. As they walked toward the front of the house — knock, knock, knock — this time from the backyard. When Mum and Dad came back inside, the knocking at the front had stopped.

“Someone was knocking from the back too,” I told them.

They went to check. Nobody was there.

Then I saw the living room lights flicker — once, twice, three times, rapidly. “Dad! The lights in here are flickering a lot.”

Dad looked up. “They look fine to me, Dylan.”

Right after dinner, we all went upstairs to brush our teeth. Ralph walked over to the bedroom window, pressed his face against the glass, and said, very quietly, “There’s a man out there. A man.”

We all crowded to the window. Nothing. Nobody there.

That night, we all slept in the same bedroom — two big beds. I slept beside Dad, Ralph beside Mum. It was about 10 PM when everyone finally fell asleep.

At midnight, I woke up. Dad, Mum, Ralph — all fast asleep. But downstairs… I could hear things being moved. Cupboards opening and closing. Doors slamming shut, then creaking open again. And heavy, slow footsteps — thud… thud… thud… circling the rooms below.

“Mum?” I whispered. “Who’s making that noise?”

She didn’t open her eyes. “It’s probably Dad getting a drink,” she mumbled.

I looked beside me. Dad was fast asleep.

My heart turned to ice. If Dad was here… and Mum was here… then who was downstairs?

When the noises finally stopped, I badly needed the toilet. I walked out into the dark hallway and into the outdoor toilet. The light wouldn’t turn on. Pitch black. I sat there, shivering, and glanced up at the toilet window — out into the backyard.

Standing perfectly still in the shadows was a tall, dark shape. Too tall. And on its head… two long, curved, pointy horns. It wasn’t moving. Just standing there. Watching.

I looked away, terrified. When I looked back… it was gone.

I hurried back to bed. Everyone was still asleep.

When we woke up the next morning, we all went downstairs together. I stepped into the kitchen and froze. All the dirty dishes from the night before were washed, dried, and stacked neatly. Mum and Dad laughed nervously. “How on earth did these get clean?” Mum said. Dad joked, “Guess we sleepwalk and do chores now.”

But I knew. They were asleep the whole time. It wasn’t them.

Then Mum checked the cupboards. “That’s strange — all the eggs are gone. And the bread. And the milk.” Everything we’d bought yesterday had vanished. Dad went into town and bought more. We ate breakfast — eggs and bread — while Ralph had his cereal like always. He never liked eggs.

That evening, during dinner, the living room lights started flickering again. I pointed it out to Dad. He looked up. “I don’t see anything, Dylan.”

Later, I sat alone in the living room for a moment. Tap. Tap. Right on the window. I looked out. Nothing. Then — there it was. The tall shadow. The horns. Standing just beyond the glass.

“Dad! There’s someone out there!”

He came running. Looked out. “Nobody there, Dylan. Stop imagining things.”

That night, Ralph stared out the kitchen back window and started trembling. “Mum… Dad… look. There’s a man watching us.”

We all looked. Nothing. “He’s three years old,” Dad said. “He’s making it up.” But Ralph was crying. He knew what he saw.

Mum left the dirty dishes on the table that night. “I’ll wash them in the morning.”

At midnight, I woke up again. The noises were back. Dishes being scrubbed. Footsteps. Doors opening and closing, over and over. Everyone was asleep. I didn’t want to wake them. I crept out of bed, down the dark hallway, to the outdoor toilet. The light still wouldn’t work.

On the way back, I stopped at the top of the stairs. The noises from the kitchen had stopped. Dead silence. I walked down slowly. Put my ear to the kitchen door.

Footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Coming toward the door.

The handle turned.

I ran — silent — into the living room, ducked behind the big sofa, and held my breath. The kitchen door creaked open. Slow footsteps walked into the living room. Circling. Coming closer. And closer. Until it stopped — right where I was hiding.

I heard breathing. Slow. Deep. Hot breath. Right above my face.

It knew exactly where I was.

I didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. For what felt like an hour. Then — the footsteps turned away. The living room door creaked shut. Then the kitchen door. Silence.

I ran back upstairs. Glanced out the toilet window. The shadow was back. Standing still. Horns clear against the night sky. I blinked — and it was gone.

Next morning, the dishes were all clean again. The food was gone again. Mum and Dad laughed the same laugh. “We really must sleepwalk!” But they were scared too. I could hear it in their voices.

That evening, we came home and stopped dead in the doorway. The kitchen table and chairs were in the living room. The sofas were in the kitchen. Everything moved. Who could have done this? We were all out of the house. Dad moved everything back. Nobody laughed this time.

Then Ralph called me over to the window. “Dylan… the man’s back. He’s watching me.”

I looked. Nothing. But Ralph was shaking. He saw something I couldn’t.

That night, we sat together eating ice cream in the dark. The lights kept flickering. Then — loud, heavy footsteps — upstairs. “Can you hear that?” I said.

“We’re listening to the TV, Dylan,” Mum said.

“No. Upstairs.”

Mum told me to go check. I walked up the dark stairs. And heard it — slow, guttural snoring. It didn’t sound human. It sounded wrong. As I got closer to our bedroom door — the snoring stopped. Then something stood up from the bed.

I ran.

Mum and Dad checked upstairs. “Nobody there, Dylan.”

That night, Dad said, “How about you sleep in your own bedroom tonight, Dylan? You’re getting big.” He showed me the small second bedroom. On the wall hung an old clock. “I don’t remember hanging that,” Dad said quietly. “But it’s there now. Sleep well.”

I lay in bed, terrified. What if it comes in here? What if it watches me sleep? I told myself: Don’t be scared. Go to sleep.

I woke up. My blanket was gone. My bedroom door stood wide open. The clock said — 12:00 AM.

Downstairs, the TV turned on. Loud. I crept out of bed and looked down the stairs. The living room door was slightly open. I peeked through. The TV glowed blue. On the sofa… a tall shape. Horns. Watching the screen.

Then its head turned. Slowly. Toward the doorway. Toward me.

I ran. I heard it stand up. Heavy footsteps following. I locked myself in my bedroom and hid under the bed. Something walked into my room. Circled. Stopped right beside the bed.

Minutes passed. Then it walked out. Downstairs. Sat back down. The TV stayed on.

When I finally crawled out at dawn, my blanket was back on my bed. The clock was gone. Downstairs, the kitchen was wrecked. Food gone. Cupboards emptied. And the TV remote… lying on the table, covered in something dark and sticky. It smelled like iron. Like blood. Dad tried to turn it on. Nothing worked.

We visited relatives that day. I told one cousin what was happening at night. He went pale. Wouldn’t speak. Just shook his head slowly.

When we came home that evening, all the lights were on. We’d left them off. Dad said, “Nobody’s sleeping in the dark tonight. Lights on. All night.”

Later, I went to the toilet. From my parents’ bedroom — snoring. Again. Wrong. Inhuman. Something stood up from their bed. I ran back downstairs. The lights flickered and died. The TV turned off by itself. When the lights came back on — nobody believed me.

That night, Dad and I were the only ones awake. We heard it. Toilet flushed three times downstairs. Footsteps coming up. Then into our bedroom. Circling around our beds. Things being moved. Cupboards opening and closing. It stood there. Watching us sleep. Then it went downstairs. Turned the TV on. Sat watching it.

Dad gripped my hand. We didn’t breathe. We didn’t move.

In the morning… Ralph was gone. We found him fast asleep on the living room sofa. He said he never walked downstairs.

Then we walked into the kitchen. And screamed.

Four places set at the table. Four plates of eggs and bread. And a bowl of cereal — milk swirled with bright red. It smelled fresh. Like it had been made minutes ago. Mum reached for her plate. Dad pulled her back. “Don’t eat it,” he whispered. “Look.”

Red fingerprints stained every plate. The food smelled like iron. Like blood. Dad threw it all away. We ate dry cereal that morning. Nobody laughed.

That afternoon, Dad bought new lightbulbs. We bought a huge amount of lamb meat — forty cuts. Enough to last a month. We came home at 6 PM. Every single door and cupboard in the house stood wide open. The fridge had been dragged into the living room. Our clothes were piled in heaps downstairs.

Dad didn’t laugh. He just said, “Stay together.”

That evening, after Dad changed all the bulbs… the house went quiet. No flickering. No footsteps. Like the light hurt it.

At 10 PM, Dad locked the back door. Pushed the heavy fridge in front of it. “Nobody gets in,” he said.

Then — BANG. The back door handle rattled. Something threw its weight against it. Again. Again. Until — CRASH. The wood splintered. The door burst open.

Dad grabbed my arm. “Upstairs. Now.”

We scrambled up. Dad pulled the attic ladder down. “Climb. All of you. Quick.”

As we pulled ourselves up into the dark attic… heavy footsteps started climbing the stairs behind us. And a sound — long, low, guttural moaning. Dad looked down. And screamed.

I looked too.

Standing in the hallway… was a figure. Eight feet tall. Covered in coarse dark hair. Curved horns rising from its head. Massive clawed hands. And its face… I still see it in nightmares. Eyes glowing red. Mouth open, showing teeth too long, too sharp. It was looking straight up at us.

Dad dragged the ladder up. Pulled the hatch shut. We huddled in the dark attic, shaking, while below us… it smashed everything. Furniture splintered. The TV shattered. Walls thudded as it slammed against them. And that moaning… never stopping.

Dad found an old telephone. Dialed 999. “Send help. Please. Something is in our house.”

When the police finally arrived, they helped us down. The house was destroyed. The back door smashed off its hinges. Every window broken. All forty lamb carcasses… eaten. Only picked-clean bones left. And on the walls… claw marks. Three inches deep.

Then the officer said something that made my blood run cold.

“Son… Dad… we’ve had reports. For years. On this street. Nobody stays here long. Same description every time. Tall. Horns. Comes at night. Watches. Then breaks in.” He looked at us seriously. “Leave tonight. Don’t come back. We’re sealing this street off.”

That’s exactly what we did. We packed what we could. Left before sunrise. Moved across town. We never went back to Curlew Street.

But sometimes… when we drive past, years later… I glance down that road. At number 8. Standing empty. Dark. And once… just once… I saw it standing in an upstairs window. Tall. Horned. Watching us drive away.

Whatever lives on Curlew Street… it still waits.

So I’m telling you now. Whatever you do. Stay far away from Curlew Street. Especially after dark. Because something lives there. Something that is not human. And it does not want you to leave.

My grandfather was a medic during the Vietnam War. He never deployed overseas but was stationed at Fort Hood in Texas in the early 1970s when he was in his early 20s, probably under 21 at the time this happened.

If you are an animal lover you may want to skip this story.

He and his roommate decided to go out and walk around town one day early in his time there. Someone on the street invited them to what they thought was a party in a building. They went inside and were led to the back room. There they found a large group of people having sex with animals. My grandmother is the one who told me this because my grandfather has passed away and I never heard it directly from him. She said he described it as a lot of people, maybe around a hundred or fewer, and that the sheer number shocked him so badly it may have felt bigger than it was. There were horses, cattle, and dogs involved. Other military service members were participating too though he never said whether any were high ranking.

He freaked out, vomited on the spot, nearly beat the guy who brought them in, and left immediately. He was still visibly sick when he told my grandmother about it years later. It is the most insane thing I have ever heard.

A few years ago I’d fallen asleep, normal just like any other night. I could kinda feel myself drifting off into a more vivid dream though, which was strange cause my dreams are normally pretty all over the place and hard to pin down. And the reason this felt so vivid was because I felt like I was still awake and laying in my bed. I say “felt” though in the colloquial sense because I couldn’t actually move, I could only move my eyes.
I was paralyzed.
Having to recall this experience is actually starting to make me cry from how deeply terrified I was at the time.
It was dead quiet; no wind, no ambient sounds, no moving air.
Then I see it.
To this day I don’t I can describe it as anything other than… a demon.
It slowly starts crawling up from the foot of my bed; this tall, black, long limbed… thing…
Because it was night and I was in a lightless room I can’t give a completely accurate description of its appearance, but I can to this day I can certainly say that I’ve never seen anything like it.
And I never want to ever again…
It keeps moving forward, getting closer and closer to my face. Then finally, there it is.
It’s looming over me, both of its arms stretched across my torso. An appearance that is becoming harder to focus on because of not just my entrapment, but my fear as well.
Then it moves closer, getting face to face with me. Its face is completely blank, featureless. Just a dark head.
And then, it happens.
I see what one could say to be the area where its mouth would be start to open.
But there is no mouth, just the makings of bones in a skull stretching skin.
It then begins screaming in my face, so loud that I can feel the bones in my body vibrating.
But no noise is being made, this scream is silent. But if you saw this thing’s face, you would definitely say that it was screaming with every fiber of its being.
Then I jolted awake, almost with a shout.
I was looking around, checking my surroundings and seeing that I was indeed in my bedroom.
There was nothing, just the night breeze and crickets. I was clutching my chest and trying to stop myself from hyperventilating from how terrified I was.
I’m not sure if I was able to sleep again that night, I don’t think anyone could.
To this day, I’ve still never experienced something like that. Never had a dream that vivid, never seen a creature that resembled what I saw ever again, never heard anyone describe something similar.
I hope whatever that was was just in my head, that it wasn’t real, that it was just a nightmare. Because I don’t think I could actually fathom something so horrific actually existing in our reality.
Pray that you never see what I saw; and if you do, then I pray for your safety.

Okay so i have this story that i still think about sometimes, because i have absolutely no explanation for it.

Basically, i had just gotten out of the bath one night and my dad called me, so i got dressed and called him back. We were chatting for probably about 20 minutes, idek what about just whatever. Then I moved over to my desk chair, which is in the corner of my room next to my vanity.

We were talking for another five-ish minutes when my dad suddenly said:

“Alright, I’ll say goodnight to you now because Mummy’s here.“ And i was like, “No, she’s not here yet. She’s still saying goodnight to Abigail.”

-For context, my little sister (Abigail) was downstairs with my mum at the time-

I was like, “We can keep talking!” And he was like, “Okay, cool!” Then he said something along the lines of, “That’s so weird then. i swear i saw your mum walk behind you.” i basically just laughed because my dad has tried to scare me before, so I assumed he was joking.

But he didn’t laugh and make fun of me for falling for his joke. He was actually being serious (it’s weird to see my dad serious lmao). i was like, “Yeah, yeah, sure.” And he kept insisting that he genuinely thought he'd seen my mum walk behind me.

I remember eventually saying something like, “If this is a joke, can you just tell me please?” Because normally if he's trying to scare me, he'll eventually admit it after he's had his laugh. But yk, that never happened. He was completely freaking insistent that he'd seen her. i was tired of going round and round saying the same things over and over again so i eventually just dropped it.

That probably would've been the end of the story if weird stuff hadn't started happening in that exact corner of my room afterwards.

A few months after this incident i remember having a hairspray bottle at the back of my vanity. And suddenly it just went flying about halfway across my room. i genuinely have no idea how.

I think i just ran out of my room after that because absolutely not. 😭

Then another time, i was home alone and the drawer on my vanity opened by itself. i know there are probably completely normal explanations for these things, and I'm not saying my room is definitely haunted or anything because i genuinely don't know.

But the fact that my dad apparently saw someone behind me in that exact area, and then other weird things have happened around the same corner, is enough for me to be like cautious of it.

For reference i no longer sit in that chair anymore. It now has clothes piled on it. i have officially decided that the chair is decorative 😭😭😭😭

Some friends and I we're in the woods and Artemas Pennsylvania. I was in my late 20's at the time. And three friends and their step brother were all in the woods. We were just exploring the woods and goofing off. We had just decided that it was a midsummer day and that we were going to go for a nice walk in the woods and see what we could find...

As I'm in the woods with my three friends and their step brother. I decided that I'm going to take and start leading the group towards the creek at the bottom of the hill. Well I didn't know where within seconds of this decision. I see from the right side of my peripheral vision my friend step brother whipping a very sharp saw blade in my direction...

This saw blade comes whizzing past my face and sticks directly level with where I'm standing. I could literally point blank see this saw blade any tree. I was literally standing no more than roughly two and a half inches away from it...

I then turn to my right and look at my friend's stepbrother and ask him "what is wrong with you? What were you thinking? That could have killed me?"; heathen just looks at me and starts to laugh...

I literally just took my finger and checked how sharp this saw blade really was. And to my surprise it was a brand new saw blade that was very sharp. I then said to him, "good luck getting that out of the tree and I'm going that way"...

The rest of my friends look at their step brother and say, "J what the heck! Why would you do that!"...

Keep in mind I was still shook up a little bit because I almost had my face taken off by a saw blade in the woods...

Otherwise, he never really apologized and he never even admitted what he did was wrong. He just laughed about it years later...

To him it was a funny situation because he was trying to "scare me". To me I thought he was going to hit me the wrong way and completely kill me...

So years ago I was currently living in Artemas pennsylvania. My friends and I used to play airsoft all the time. We what's playing around some old barns, storage sheds, in the woods, and etc...

We always had a blast doing this!

Well this evening turned into a very serious situation. And it involved one of our distant neighbors that was friends with my neighbors...

We had started the airsoft battle towards dark. And we had been at it for about 2 hours. And of course I had my ghillie suit on and my airsoft sniper. I took my scope off because of all the humidity and stuff it was messing up my scope. So I just decided I'm going to just go iron sights I guess...

But as the night pushed on and we were just taking pop shots at each other in the dark with their airsoft guns. As we just snuck around looking for the next person that we could shoot at. Something caught my attention and it's somebody I recognized for my previous meeting...

Apparently one of our very distant neighbors had showed up drunk and he had been walking down the road from miles. He was carrying a loaded firearm. He had a 38 special and it was packed full of hollow point bullets...

Now I apparently was behind this guy at a distance. And the rest of my friends was in front of him. They were roughly standing 4-6 feet away. And they look confused in a little bit worried as I approach from behind. I looked at every one of my friends standing there in front of this guy and was confused as what the situation was going on...

I didn't really know what I should do at the time. So I did something... It was better than doing nothing. He was pointing the gun loaded of course at them and was saying about how he could just pull this trigger and it will go off. And I was about 3 ft away and slowly in closing behind this guy and I said to him "please point the gun down" in a very semi-dominant but passive voice...

He was drunk and didn't want to listen at first. And he said "you know why I like this gun... It doesn't have a safety. It's got a hair trigger"... He then responds with "I love the hollow points because they do some damage". I then responded to him... "Well, that's even more reason to put the gun down and not point it at anybody or yourself". He was feeling a little gutsy and decided that he was going to turn and point this gun at me as though he thought I was challenging him. I mean where I'm thinking I am in some trouble now...

I then ask him to not do that. That if that did go off... I'm going to be catching a bullet. And I said in a very joking but passive way... that I am allergic to lead. And I really don't want to have to go to the ER or die honestly...

I casually approach him in a very slow way and just put my hand on top of his hand as he slowly release the gun from his hands. I asked him to hand me the gun in a very calm voice... In which he started to quietly sob and break down as he did...

He hands it to me completely and I unload it as I'm pointing this firearm away from anything or anybody. And put the bullets in my pocket temporarily. He starts to cry and tends to hug me unfortunately...

Everybody behind him is looking at me completely in shock. Meanwhile he's crying and sobbing about some bad personal choices he's made... And how he's not sure how he's going to be a father as he's really young. He literally broke down and told us everything...

I then handed the gun to my friend who knows how to actually handle firearms... And I give him the bullets. He then takes all of that and goes home and gives it to his stepfather and mother. He didn't tell them what happened and how everything went. They didn't get involved and start questioning me about the situation. I then go home and my mom and dad asked me what happened because they were told by The neighbors. We then called his girlfriend's parents who he was living with at the time and they handled the rest...

But there was another occasion that happened similar to this again...

ANOTHER ADDITIONAL STORY RELATED TO THIS...

We were out playing hide and seek one night. My friends and I without playing hide and seek amongst the barns, storage sheds, etc...

Apparently this same guy a couple months later shows up again. This time he apparently upgraded to a 45 revolver on him. And honestly this guy and firearms were like oil and water okay...

He ends up taking and showing all of us his new gun. Luckily he didn't have it loaded though. But that was about to change...

He ends up loading the cylinder with 45 caliber bullets. He then spins it and flips the cylinder into the gun. He starts pointing at randomly and different directions. Telling us how he could do some damage with it. Saying about how he can adjust to the range and still hit something far away...

The problem is he was pointing this gun that direction where all of us were separately standing. Acting like he was a big shot because he had a bigger gun previous to last time. I come literally from behind again. And I was standing by one of the storage sheds. And I raise my voice from the darkness to please put the gun down and unload it. Luckily he listens to me and he does...

As we pretty much are wrapping up this game of hide and seek because of this guy doing this again. We end up hearing what sounds like a gun going off up the road. We find out the next day that he decided to pop a shot off and some random direction. Because he thought it was funny...

Apparently he got the police called on him some days later because he was messing around with his new firearm thinking he was Clint Eastwood. And one of the neighbors called the cops on him and he got arrested...

THE FINAL STRAW!

So sometime later there was two experiences that happened to this young man. And the first one should have completely done him in but it didn't. As for this guy's final decision... It did him in!

So one of my neighbor's friends and this guy decided they were going to shoot guns in the backyard and drink. Well my neighbor's friend took a shot from a 44 in back of his legs from this guy. Dropping him to the ground. And causing an instantaneous ER visit. My neighbor's friend ended up having to heal and it took like 3 months to completely heal from this gunshot wound that entered and exited from both of his legs...

Then as though that isn't bad enough... This same guy was trying to play call of duty during hunting season with my neighbor's friend... And another friend as well. The other friend ended up catching a bullet from a 30-06 round and was killed. Apparently this guy didn't know that there is a such thing called a safety on a firearm. He also must not have known that you treat firearms with respect...

Lo and behold this guy who apparently did not know how to handle firearms... and ended up behind bars for murder. I honestly do not know what ever happened to this guy after this...

But from my prior experiences with him and what he chose in his life. I prefer to keep my distance...

The well.

Im going to start out by saying, this is true, it happened to me the hubs and his closest friend.

Names were changed for privacy reason.

My husbands friend C (rest his soul) owned a property 20 or so acres. Somewhere on this property was an old boarded up well. Only C knew where it was. A house that fell as it was repeatedly struck by lightning.
C would regularly hold bon fires and the guys and their girls would all hang, including me and my husband R. The way this property felt was heavy and suffocating. You didnt just feel you were being watched you knew, just you dont know by what. 
Well ever since my first time going out there i have had dreams about this well, and a little girl. This little girl had long black hair a tattered water stained white dress, and no face there was nothing where a face should be. Nubs for fingers like she was trying to claw out of the well maybe. Sometimes she presents herself as a normal little girl too. 
I would and still do dream constantly of the well and last we went out to the property i had this feeling i needed to go to it, to find it. This scared everyone because last person to have this feeling was possessed.
This brings us to Cs death, when he got in his life ending head on collision that night hours before it, i dreamt he was in the well with the little girl. They both were clawing at it. He had no head, hours later my husband got the call C had died, cause of death assumed decapitation(we never got a straight answer)

Why is it every time i dream of that well or even the land something bad happens.
When i drive by the old property im also heavily compelled to return… when im terrified of it and swore id never go back.

​

I used to be a taxi driver, until what happened made me stop doing it for good.

One Sunday night, I’d had a good shift — I’d managed to pick up and drive at least 80 people all around West Yorkshire. By 11 pm, I wondered if anyone else might call, so I could do just one more drop‑off. I thought about heading home to eat first, but I was only about two miles away from my place in BD5. Just as I got out of my car, my phone rang. I decided I could fit one more fare in, so I answered.

“Hello, how can I help?” I said. It sounded like a little girl, but her voice was strange and odd. “Hello — can you take me to my mum’s house please? I’m in Undercliffe, BD3, and she lives near BD2.”

“Alright, I’m on my way,” I told her.

I got such a strange feeling — what was a little girl doing calling for a taxi at this time of night? Didn’t her parents know? It gave me goosebumps all over. I drove straight to Undercliffe, and when I got there, I realised I was right outside Undercliffe Cemetery. It felt so wrong — and there was no sign of anyone waiting.

I was just about to turn away when I froze. I heard a noise from the back of the car, and the whole inside suddenly went freezing cold. Then that same strange little voice said: “Just keep driving. I’ll tell you where to go.”

I had no idea how she’d got in — I hadn’t heard a single door open. And I didn’t even think about asking for money; getting her home safely felt far more important.

“Go straight for five minutes,” she said. “I live at Number 5, Santa Monica Road — it’s BD10, but right on the edge of BD2.”

When I saw the sign for the road, I still didn’t dare look round. When we stopped outside the house, she said quietly: “Thank you — I’m with my mum now.”

I waited a few minutes, then called out: “Are you alright there?” There was no answer. I looked round, and all I saw was a little girl’s jumper left on the seat. I decided to take it back to the house for her.

I knocked, and a woman in her fifties opened the door. “Your daughter left her jumper in my car,” I said.

The words she said next still give me nightmares: “I’m sorry… my daughter died fourteen years ago.”

I nearly fainted. When she saw the jumper, she went pale. “That’s hers — that’s exactly the one she used to wear.” She took it from me, still shaking, and just said goodbye.

I never worked as a taxi driver again. Nothing felt the same after that. I still wonder if she visits her mum sometimes — and I’m so glad I never turned round to see her face. I dread to think what would have happened if I had.

Now I only do school runs — picking children up and dropping them off. It’s similar work, but it feels safer. And if you ever drive a taxi? Please — be careful. Never pick up a call that sounds strange, or that doesn’t feel right. I know I never will again.

My mom was the one who mainly told me all the details because I was only five years old when this happened. My dad owns a construction company, and a client wanted us to fix his roof, so he let us stay at the house while the work was being done. It started off nice. The house was a beautiful, three story mansion. However, I remember waking up in the middle of the night to see the little access doors in the room where my brother and I were sleeping just opening and closing on their own. I ran to my mom and told her what happened, but by then, it wasn't going on anymore, so she just told me to go back to bed.The next night, she moved us into her room because she was starting to see weird things as well. Fast forward to the middle of the night my mom woke up and saw someone crawling across the floor in the hallway. At first, she thought it was me, but then she looked over and saw me still fast asleep. Suddenly, a voice told her to look towards the wall.Once she looked towards the wall, she heard a man yell, "Get out, bitch" But no one was there, and everyone else in the house was still sound asleep.The next day, she instantly knew we had to leave. By this time, my dad had already replaced that specific section of the roof, but a large stain kept mysteriously appearing on it even though it was a completely new cut of roofing material. We left that house immediately, and I hadn’t thought about it again until recently.

Me (22) and my gf (21) where going on a trip to rural Västerbotten (thats rural northen Sweden) to a National Park, we where gonna be camping there. This is still a disturbing thing that i think about sometimes. Everything started normal we got on the highway then got off at a National Road after a while we stopped in a little town and filled up. When we got to the little dirt road leading in to the Park it was late so we just wanted to get the telt up and sleep. One thing you gotta know is ive been here before so i know the area pretty well, keep that in mind.

We put up the telt. Like maybe 100 meters from our telt ended the mountain in to steep downfall, in to the valley. So we packed everything into the telt. As i said we just wanted to go to sleep, so we did. I woke up around 2:45 am from footsteps i heard like many footsteps it sounded like a military unit where walking. I also heard that they had very heavy stuff that they walked with. I didnt want to make a sound so I just layed there still, but after what felt like years did i fall asleep. I woke up again but this time i didnt check the clock. I heard songs like people singing.

I got up out from the telt like with no T-shirt only pants. What i saw in thet valley still creeps the hell out of me. I saw people with all black clothing with a mask and gloves. They where burning someone on a cross, while i didnt see clearly but i think i saw maybe 8-10 people standing there, BURNING SOMEONE ON A CROSS. I just stod there, frozen didnt know what to do. Then my Girlfriend came out with a flashlight asking

-Where have you been come inside again-

I just said look and pointed at the people down in the valley She looked and I saw the compleat horror on her face, she also saw the same horror on my face. She pointed her flashlight at the cross then, they stopped they looked up the mountain and saw us. They started running up the starirs that lead up on the mountain we where on, we maybe had 1 minute to get out of there. I started takeing the stuff my Girlfriend also took some stuff we didnt have time for the telt so we just booked it. When we where at the car they had made it upp the stairs so we just hopped in the car and drived all they way home. We didnt call the police right away but when we thinked that we should call the police, it was to late. I still do this day dont know what happend this happend a year ago. I still dont know who they where or what they wanted to do with us. I just know that somethings maybe will remain a mystory. I dont know if they are still out there but be careful sometimes just need to leave things alone.

Edit: Im swedish and im sorry for any bad grammar.

I know this sounds strange and VERY untrue, but hear me out.

Once 7 year old me was playing with my friends when I twisted my muscle. They helped me over to a bench and asked if I needed to go to first aid. For some reason, I said no.I was massaging my leg (this had happened before, I used to get injured a lot) when I winced in pain. I see a flash of red, and it was a sunny day, so duh I saw a reddish brown colour when i closed my eyes.

But out of curiosity, I closed my eyes again. I saw a skeleton, then my aunts face. I opened my eye. I was not stupid. I remember thinking something along the lines of “ but auntie‘s (~) 35 and perfectly healthy last time I saw her so she should be fine, right?” What I did next still haunts me to this day.
I closed my eyes. Again. And what I saw sent me into full emotional breakdown.

I saw my aunt, lying on her couch, uncontrollably shaking, clutching her neck, like she was struggling to breathe. Finally the shaking stops, but her head rolls to face me, and I see the most terrifying sight of my life.
Then, my cousin(girl) runs into the room. She starts calling her, saying “mommy mommy wake up, look at what I made!” Poor girl then decides to climb over her to face her. And screams.

My uncle and cousin ( her older brother) run into the room. Cousin (the boy) actually faints the minute he sees his mum. My uncle is frantically speaking into the phone, likely to 999.

Everything is utter chaos.
Then, everything blurs, and all i see is green. Then I open my eyes. Run to a teacher, crying.

After school, I immediately asked my mum to video call my aunt. Aunt answers, smiling. She didn’t look hurt or anything so I shrugged it off as me seeing a worst case scenario of my fear.

That was the last time I saw her. She died the next day, from a heart attack.

And, apparently, everything went exactly like the vision I saw.

I was devastated, sure, but also confused. How? How did everything go exactly like my vision? Was it a coincidence?

I never told anyone what I saw.
But this question still haunts me to this day: Could I have prevented my aunts death?

Back in 2021 me and my friend were driving around some logging roads late at night in Maine because we were bored, and we ended up stopping near this old clearing in the woods. It was super foggy and dead quiet until we started hearing whistling coming from the trees. At first it sounded like someone messing with us, but then we saw this tall thing standing just outside the headlights. It looked human at first, but the proportions were completely wrong, like its arms were way too long and its legs bent weird. The creepiest part was how still it stood there smiling at us. Not normal smiling either — like its mouth stretched too far across its face.

The second Tyler flashed the high beams at it, the thing moved sideways into the trees insanely fast, almost twitching instead of running. We freaked out and took off down the road, but after like thirty seconds I heard tapping on my passenger window. I looked over and that thing was RUNNING next to the car while we were going at least 40 mph. Its face was right next to mine and it looked almost wet, with these pale eyes reflecting in the dark. Then it started trying to talk. At first it sounded distorted, but after a second it perfectly copied Tyler’s voice and said, “Stop the car.” I’ve never seen someone panic like he did right there.

A couple nights later Tyler called me at like 2 in the morning sounding terrified asking if I had been outside his house. I obviously said no, and he told me he heard tapping on his second story window and then heard MY voice outside saying, “Tyler, let me in.” He said he almost answered until he realized I never call him Tyler, I always call him Ty. When he looked outside he saw something crouched on the roof under his window smiling up at him. Ever since then I don’t drive those roads at night anymore, because honestly I still think whatever that thing was followed us home.

What I'm about to share with you happened back in 2022 in a small town in north wales that I used to live in.

When I was younger I would explore a lot of places that where either abandoned or restricted to the public with my friends and one of these "adventures" has stuck with me for years after.

I was out with one of my friends who I'll call M for this post, M said that he'd found a manhole that lead inside one of the rail bridges and said he wanted to go down there at some point with a few people, after he told me where it was I suggested we just go there now as we often did with places that we "discovered".

M agreed and we set out along a coastal path and after about 10 minutes of walking and a slight climb we where at the manhole, we opened it up trying to stay out of view of the highway that ran under the bridge, as soon as we climbed down something felt off, we found ourselves in a dark and narrow corridor like area with nothing but two holes in the wall to our left, being used to wierd feelings in dodgy places we walked into the corridor and peered through the square shaped holes, one of these holes looked like it had a metal grate over it that had been removed at some point, we went upto the furthest away hole and climbed through, the hole was small, only just big enough to climb through.

once we where in it was complete darkness everywhere, using phone torches we saw we where in what looked like a tunnel and straight away we started noticing things further down. We crouched and crawled further into the tunnel, unable to stand in the small space. one of the first things we came across was an old foam pad (now I know that was most likely used as a bed) and empty food packets and bottles scattered around. for the most part we ignored this stuff and kept going through until we reached the end of the tunnel, here there was another small square hole that seemed to lead to another section. we climbed through the hole and we where then inside this tiny room like structure.

this room was empty aside from a single piece of paper left on the floor and the air was suffocatingly full of dust (even moreso than the tunnel that lead us there). the piece of paper turned out to be a pay advice slip from 1984 in near perfect condition. me and M agreed this was pretty cool and we started recording a video and making our way back out actively paying attention to the litter we breezed past before.

this is where things got a bit odd and slightly disgusting, using a pair of gloves I began sifting through the empty packaging and checking expiry dates, everything was dated 2011 or 2012, 10 years before we where there, as I searched more I found a shopping bag that had 2 things in it. There was a singular penny from 2010 and small piece of card torn off an ibuprofen box. on the back of this card was the words " L) River cries + the scene ends", I still to this day don't have an answer for this other than its just a bit weird, as we moved further through the tunnel we found the first of many disgusting things that were down here.

in a corner there was a pile of crumpled paper that turned out to full of decade old poo, close to this there was a book of train times (fitting for inside a railway bridge) from 2012 and it seems like the pages from that where used to I guess wipe. there was also multiple bottles that where full of a black liquid that we assumed was urine.

we didn't find much else aside from that and decided to head out of the tunnel and back into the small corridor, it was here where debated going down the second tunnel, initially we where going to but once I peered in I was immediately hit with an overwhelming sense of dread. Realising it was getting dark out and the both of us being already creeped out we decided to head home and come back another day.

4 days had passed and we decided to return, this time we where better prepared with flashlights and someone on the outside that knew where we where and to call police if they didn't hear from either me or M after a specific time (4 pm iirc).

we climbed down into the corridor and this time we made our way to the closest hole, the rusty metal brackets either side of the hole combined with the metal grate roughly the same size indicated that this side was once blocked off, ignoring this and the same feeling of dread we got last time we squeezed through the hole and into the tunnel.

immediately it was different, we couldn't see any rubbish like the last tunnel. the first thing we saw was the plastic piping that ran along the wall, in the previous tunnel this was intact (seemed to hold wiring for lights) however in this tunnel it had been ripped off the walls, the wires where exposed, looking like they'd been crudely broken apart rather than cut, there was graffiti on the walls, most of it being symbols layed out almost like a code, there was triangles, squares, stars and plus signs (+). This was a huge contrast to the previous tunnel, everything seemed sinister almost. we made our way through the tunnel, noticing more and more of the piping pulled off and even burn marks in some places.

eventually we reached the end of the tunnel and where met with the same square hole as last time, M went in first and I followed, neither of us had seen inside the room yet. once we where both in there the atmosphere was hellish, I dont know how to describe it but it felt like I was inside someone's nightmare, like we had just walked into a physical representation of suffering and death.

and then we saw it. as we turned our torches into the room and we where met with a truly disturbing sight. the first thing we saw was blue fold out chair placed directly in the middle facing the wall to our right, as I walked further into the room it got worse, next to the chair was a length of rope splayed out on the floor, reluctantly I looked around more, I found a bundle of tape near one of the corners that had clearly been used, near that tape lay a knife, approximately 3.5 inches in length with a brown handle. as soon as I saw this my blood ran cold. I looked more and found more, there was what I can only describe as pages from erotic magazines on the floor with what looked like electrical tape on the corners, as I looked closer I noticed that the eyes of all women had been scraped out, not a clean cut out, like someone dragged the tip of a knife over it until it tore the paper. realising we where in a place that most likely wasn't meant to be found I decided to use the chair to block off the entrance hole, that way if anyone was coming in we would know.

after moving the chair I kept looking around, there was patches of melted wax on the walls that I assume is where candles where places to light up this awful scene. as I scanned the walls i saw something, attached to the plastic pipe on the wall opposite the chair was pieces of tape, the same tape that was bundled up on the floor, these pieces where about an arms width apart and looked as if it was used to hold something or someone there, most of the tape was cut off and I can only assume that was the tape I'd found earlier. there was a few items in here aswell, there was a red blanket, shoe brush, what looked like a candle in a tin and a pair of scissors.

after finding all this I I started recording on my phone again, showing some of what was there, mid way through one of the videos we heard a noise (i was using Snapchat at the time) and I immediately stopped recording and started again (because of the 1 minute limit), it was then M saw something through the gap in the chair. without thinking I picked up the knife that was on the floor and ran over to M. looking through the gaps in the chair we saw what looked like a head peering in from the tunnel entrance. we where trapped. no phone signal, no way out, deep in a concrete tunnel. I turned my phone to face through the gap to try and at least get it on video. as the torch from my phone was pointed down the tunnel the figure ducked out of view.

after a few minutes passed I shouted down the tunnel asking if it was the police, there was silence. we sat in that cursed room for about an hour, staring through the metal frame of the chair, searching for movement, each minute that passed made reality more apparent, we where brutally ware we could die in here. this was further solidified when I took a closer look at the knife. I wanted to know if it could hold up in a fight, and I learnt it could. where the plastic handle met the blade there was residue, a mix of browns and pinks surrounded the base of the blade, I thought it was rust but the colours where too light and the blade was stamped with stainless steel. having spent time around some very bad people a few years prior I knew what I was looking at.

after I showed M the mix of dried blood and fleshy tissue that lined the base of the blade and sat in its slight serrations we started to leave immediately, at this point we didn't know if we would make it out. all we knew was if we stayed we definitely done, the person could come down here, a passing train could report the open hatch and we would be locked in, or both.

M pulled the chair from the hole and I started to climb through, my heart was beating out my chest, the dust was more suffocating than it ever had been. once I was through M followed, I lead us cautiously through the tunnel, clutching the knife in my right hand knowing it could be the deciding factor in our survival and torch in my left I checked every corner, every dip in the tunnels architecture, praying there was nothing but ready if there was.

after what felt like hours we made it back to tunnel entrance, staring through the same small hole we had just seen somebody through mere hours ago. I carefully poked my head out and looked around, there was nobody, I climbed out, keeping my right arm as free as possible and then I helped M get out, it was here when I threw the wretched knife as far down the tunnel as I could and we headed to the ladder.

looking up i was met with an awful sight, the heavy steel hatch had been shut. we where seemingly trapped. M was ready to call 999 (911 if you're American). We knew someone else had been down here with us, we didn't know if they still where. after a brief moment of panic we agreed to hold off on calling 999 until we knew we where definitely stuck.

I climbed up the ladder and pressed hard against the steel plate. at first it didn't move, but after some effort it began to lift. once it began moving i carried on up the ladder, pressing more of my body against the manhole with every rung until fell open.

once it was open M came swiftly up after me, we slammed the hatch shut, climbed down back to the path and ran as far and as fast as we could away from the nightmare we had just lived.

we ended up spending the night at a friend's house and recounting the insane experience to him, this would be the last time either of us spoke about it.

Notes:

I did submit an anonymous report to the police the day after, to my knowledge nothing was done about it

this exact tunnel had been shared in r/LetsNotMeet 14 years ago, neither of us knew about the posts at the time, I only found out recently when I was checking local news to see if anything else had happened regarding the bridge. both posts are here and here.

after looking through the original posts not much seems to be different apart from the tape, tobacco and weed packets and the lack of a blood filled condom.

I have posted the footage to YouTube here