Welcome to Scary Story Podcast. One of the comments mentioned how they liked the
episodes with two stories. This one actually has three, some of my favorites
from the early episodes in season one, and it has three short stories here
for you. Another one of the comments mentioned how they like how I used
to say this story was written by me Edwin Klarujas, which I just found
funny and wanted to mention it here. Anyway, Thanks a lot for the
comments, and please enjoy the episode. My name is Edwin and here's a
scary story. For four months straight, my water bill had been going up.
It started at around forty dollars than eighty and has now increased to about
two hundred dollars per month. I don't want to see what the next one
will say. Two weeks ago I called the water company to let them know
about it. Once again. There is a lady there who always answers the
phone with the fakeist thank you for calling mini speech ever, and I think
she knows who I am. She always tells me that a tech will be
coming to my house to check out the water meter and let me know if
it's consistent with their records, But nobody ever comes to check. Now.
I live with my aging mother and we're not in the position to be throwing
money away. Mom said that someone was stealing the water, but the days
where a neighbor could hook up a hose to the side of the house are
long gone. But she insisted that I show up in person to get things
back in order. So I did what was left to try. A plumber
had already charged us one hundred and twenty dollars to tell us that our house
had no leaks from within our property, that we had to check with the
water company itself. Thick glasses and lipstick stained yellow teeth. That's what Jackie,
from the think of recalling thing looked like. Hi, how may I
help you? She said, not even faking a smile. This time she
knew who I was. Obviously, I doubt anyone else had called the office
more than me in the past two or three months since I started noticing the
price hike. We'll get a tech out there tomorrow. At what time are
you available? I politely said that no text ever showed up, and if
I could please speak with the supervisor. Sighing a little bit, she looked
at her agenda and called someone named Jonathan The man was apparently an area supervisor.
She handed me the phone. I explained my situation, and then apologetically,
he said that he would show up within an hour. Even though I
was suspicious that he would actually show up, I was glad that I listened
to my mom. Something might actually get done this time around. As I
was pulling into my driveway, I noticed a big water truck, the one
that used to come by with an order to cut off my water for not
paying my bill several times. Is this Martha's residence, yes, I said,
come on in. He said he needed to check out the water meter
and make a visual confirmation of it. He went out to the backyard and
looked over the fence to the neighbor's house. That's not my yard, I
said. He chuckled and told me that he knew that, but that my
water meter was actually located on the back yard of the house behind us.
I'm not sure how that stuff works, and he noticed, so he explained
some things about my section of the street and connections that they were made back
in the seventies. I still didn't understand, but just needed the water meter
checked and my bill adjusted utilities. He yelled out toward the house as he
stretched some type of device. I guess you read these things with radio signals
now or something like that. But you have to get close utilities, he
yelled out again. But nobody peeked out the window or anything. I didn't
seen anybody or the lights on in that house for months, if not maybe
for even over a year. The last time I talked to them was about
two years ago, when they asked if I wanted to split the costs of
a new fence to separate our yards. We still have the old one and
it's falling apart, but things it's all the nice one right next two hours,
Jonathan explained that he couldn't jump the fence because he needed permission from the
owner, but that he would visit the house and try to get permission.
He said he would leave them a notice if there was no answer, and
that he would call me later on. Here we go again, I thought.
About twenty minutes later, I got a call from him telling me that
he couldn't find anybody at that house and that he would have to check next
week. I wasn't about to wait a week. Mom was upset over the
whole thing and push for me to go that evening to try to talk to
the neighbor. Maybe they would be home from work. That was for reasoning.
So around eight pm, I walked around the block to get to their
house, trying to spot it by the big tree that they have, since
I had never seen the neighbor's house from the front. All of the lights
were off, but I went for the doorbell. It didn't work. I
knocked, and just as I did, a sound star to me. It
was a crying whisper, help me please, fading voice said in the distance
a woman. It sounded like. I knocked again and I heard the same
thing, only louder. Hello, I yelled silence. I thought about the
right thing to do, and after taking a deep breath, I went for
the doorknob. It opened easily, and the door swung open slowly toward the
inside. Hello, help me please, I heard. Full of darkness.
I stared inside and try to make out what was in the living room area,
bare walls, no furniture. Should I step inside? I remember thinking,
please? I heard again. Then chills ran down my back as I
contemplated stepping in there. As I leaned my head inside, a loud hey
sounded from behind me. Old bald man came running up to me. What
do you think you're doing, Maggie, Call the cops. I could see
the other neighbors stepping out of their homes, the porch lights with the light
sensors turning on. I tried to explain myself, but it was no use.
There was no way this man was going to listen to me. I'd
just explained myself to the police. I thought I was still thinking about the
person inside the house and figured that the police might actually be able to help.
They arrived about ten minutes after that. While I just sat on the
porch, people were staring at the commotion that this other guy was causing.
Great and their set of red and blue flashing lights arriving in on the block
even more people outside. The man explained to the police what he saw,
and the officer pulled me aside to let me give my side of the story.
I told him that there was somebody inside and that she asked for help.
The look he gave me was odd, like a mix between confused and
amazed. He called two other officers over, and one of them with the
tablet computer, confirming a time and date with the officer. I was talking
to. They announced themselves and stepped in. Two other officers arrived and also
followed. It must have been about an hour later by this time, but
a police van arrived with a photographer and another man. They asked me to
stay and give my witness account, but I didn't know what else to say
except for what happened. The whole street was sealed off by this time,
as more and more trucks and police detectives arrived. I was allowed to leave,
but they didn't tell me anything about what was going on. Their operation
went deep into the night. Mom and I knew because of the floodlights.
They set up in our backyards with these loud generators. At around two in
the morning, through the chatter and the sounds of the motors, I heard
a dog barking. The chatter got louder and louder for about half an hour
until it all went quiet. I couldn't see much from my window. The
next morning, the detectives were still working a stretcher by the side of the
neighbor's house, and right next to it the distinct image of a black body
bag. There was thanks to the third interview with the detectives that I finally
got the answer I wanted. The voice I heard the person asking for help
was dismissed by the interviewers. They explained about the blood stained bathroom walls they
found. They asked me to think back about half a year or so if
I had noticed anything suspicious. We all know how these stories go sometimes,
so I made it very clear that all I wanted was to clear up the
deal with the water bill. They asked to see my records, and then
they told me the rest. A hard object had pierced the pipe at the
joint that caused the water to leak. A woman had been murdered in the
house behind me. I had found her body buried in the backyard, this
ten yards away from my window, on the other side of the fence.
Her body curled up next to the garden area with the roses, the area
with the water line, the water line that runs to my house. Though
my water bill got fixed, I still hear the cries for help late into
the night. Help me, help me. The next story is called what
We Saw. I don't know who to tell you about the thing I saw.
My parents made fun of me the last time I screamed in the middle
of the night, even though I'm sure they care about my safety and everything
that parents do. I don't think I can bring this up again, because
my parents really don't seemed to want to talk about this. It started with
mild laughter, which I thought was just a part of my dreams until one
time I woke up in the middle of the night because I forgot to turn
off my notifications, and I just kind of laid there on my bed staring
at the empty space between the bed and the blanket. It was as clear
as you can imagine the sound of a child laughing. Though it sounded like
it came from far away in terms of volume, I knew it was nearby
because it was so clear. I froze instantly until I heard it again.
Then I screamed my lungs out, and that's when my parents came rushing in,
and then they laughed at the situation and asked me to sleep with the
light on if I had trouble. I think having the light on would have
made me even more paranoid, so I turned it off and ran to my
bed and on top of the tangled blanket. To make everything worse, I
kicked around until I finally fixed it and turned on my phone to watch something
on YouTube. I just wanted to fall asleep hidden in my blanket cocoon,
and between my dreams I could hear the distinct laughter of a kid, though
a bit deeper, but still undeniably a child. As the days went on,
I started becoming more and more paranoid over the laughter, until one day
I watched a video that for some reason, got me very motivated to quote
unquote face my fears. I didn't want to live being afraid of something so
dumb. I guess I sounded a little over dramatic there, but you get
my point. It was three in the morning when I woke up. I
grabbed my cold phone from the nightstand and flicked on the screen. I heard
the laughter again. All Right, Diane, it's time to face your fear,
I told myself. Although my friends know that I talk to myself sometimes,
I turned on the flashlight on my phone. I left it up the
blanket toward the corner of my room, but there was nothing. I put
my head back on the pillow and the light, face down onto the bed.
When I heard the laughter again, louder this time. I was scared,
but nothing prepared me for what came next. In my attempt to get
myself under the blanket again, I grabbed my phone as the light scanned the
room for a brief second. Right by the bin where I put my dirty
clothes was a girl with an unnaturally white grin and dark hair staring at me.
I screamed again, muffled by my blanket until I couldn't scream any more
and froze in silence. I heard my dad come into the room. He
asked from afar if I was okay, but he didn't turn on the lights.
I saw it, I said, as I flashed the light toward my
dad and startled him. He was bent over the bin of dirty clothes.
He ran toward the light switch and flicked it on, stopping to stare back
at the bin of clothes and then back at me. I could tell he
was confused as he sat on the edge of my bed, asking what I
had seen. He listened to my description in silence until he asked me to
get my blanket and go to sleep with my mother instead. Ever since that
night, things have quieted down, and I have only heard the laughter a
couple of times. These times even quieter, even though Dad and I haven't
talked about the incident. I know what I saw, and he, well,
he knows what he saw as well. The third short story in this
episode is called What Ghosts Sound Like, and it's coming up right after this.
Stay with me. It takes some serious willpower for me to go into
my bank statements and go through all the transactions, you know, to check
subscriptions and what I'm overpaying for streaming services, fitness apps, and even newspaper
websites that I don't even visit anymore. That's why I'm a huge fan of
rocket Money. Rocket money is a personal finance app that finds and cancels your
own wanted subscriptions, monitors you're spending, and helps you lower your bills,
all in one place. I want you to answer this honestly, how much
are you spending on subscriptions? If you set around eighty dollars a month,
I'll tell you that's what most people say, but really the number is closer
to two hundred dollars. I get it. It's easy to lose track,
but please check them because they add up. So stop wasting money on things
you don't use, cancel your own wanted subscriptions, and manage your money.
The easy way go to rocket money dot com slash scary story. That's rocket
money dot com slash scary story rocket money dot com slash scary stuf. When
you think of a dispatch, you might be thinking of something cool, like
those people who answer nine to one one calls and send ambulances and police officers.
My job is not like that. In my city, I'm a part
of a company that has a twenty four to seven customer service representative thing for
a plumbing service. Some of these things are serious, like fleeks and entire
apartment floors flooding knee high, but others are just embarrassing calls from people around
town freaking out for them, plogging the toilet, the choice of words as
to describe what they see as hilarious to listen to. Fortunately, I'm not
the one doing the visits. I just take the calls and take care of
the billing payments and other stuff like that. When I get a call,
I can tell them what to do, things like shut off the water line
and tell them that a professional will be with them soon, depending on the
urgency of the phone call. The entire night staff is made up of four
people and we take turns with the weekends and everything, since they are the
busiest. We were discussing the upcoming holiday weekend when suddenly two of them started
telling me about a strange call. They had gotten a ghost call. They
were having their usual burghers from the place across the street, waiting for the
phone to ring. Literally when it did, the first one answered it and
greeted the potential client, blah blah blah, how can I help you?
He described what he thought were whispers on the other end of the line,
and he put the call on speakerphone. He then heard a grunt and the
person hung up. I think it was one of the weirdos that make the
calls to food labels and respond to magazine writers over email with nothing to do
in the middle of the night, someone playing a prank on us. I
don't know. We wouldn't get pranks often, and we had clear instructions on
how to block those types of callders that would stop the problem for a little
while. Yeah, we were bored at times, so we would get fascinated
by things like these. Anything was a good story at two or three in
the morning, as we were waiting for the phone to ring. The weekends,
like I said, were another story. No, no, the first
guy said, trying to make a story interesting. It happened again. Another
guy added, Yeah, it was weird. It sounded like a ghost.
What the heck does a ghost sound like? Anyway, I wondered to myself.
I simply laughed and reached for the stale French fry that was still on
the desk. But then it was my turn to take the weekend calls with
another girl and things would be normal for a little bit. She was usually
pretty calm, and she had been working there for a long time, so
she knew how to solve some of the bigger stuff. I wouldn't even think
of telling her about the strange phone calls the others were talking about. She
was one of those people that take their job very seriously, do you know
what I mean? But still, she was cool to work with. But
anyway, we both were sitting her desks while I was filling out some of
the end of the month's reports and she was working on some other task.
Won my phone, breng I said the welcome message and asked how we could
help them. That's when I heard the faint voice of a young child on
the other end. Hi, Hello, she said, One four to seven
blooming Lane. I wrote it down automatically, but then hesitated on what to
say next. Okay, sorry, so hello, what is wrong? Thank
you, the little voice said, and hung up. I kept the phone
against my ear for a little bit before Gabby, the coworker, asked if
I was all right. I explained to her the phone call, giving her
the address and everything, and she wrote it down. I think it was
a habit to write down addresses as soon as we heard them. Did you
send the van? She asked very well that I hadn't. She started dialing
the driver's phone number, looking to me and asking, but what service do
they need. It was just about to answer when she started giving the address
to a driver who was near that area, asking him to be there and
that she would give back to him with the contact information. Gabby hung up
and then looked over to me. I told her it was a little girl
who called, and that it might have been a prank. She was about
to call back the driver when her desk phone started ringing. It was a
driver. He was loud and sounded stressed out. Gabby took a few notes
and then stood up to call the supervisor. She told me that the driver
had been greeted by a child with one of our magnets, the ones that
stick on your fridge, and had our phone number was held tightly in her
hands. She opened the door and pointed toward the stairs. He glanced over
to it and rushed up to a woman who had fallen down on the stairs
and was unconscious. He reached for his phone and called nine one one,
and then ran back to his truck to get the first aid kit, and
he got it as he listened for instructions. When he hung up and called
the office, he said he was looking for the woman's daughter so that he
could report back once he helped out with the incident report. Fortunately, the
woman recovered and she gave us a visit once she got the full version of
how she was found by the emergency service workers. That's where we got to
talking about the strange occurrence. The little girl had gotten her phone number from
the magnet that has the information on the four emergencies only line that was made
for plumbing emergencies. Her mom had kept the list of numbers and a note
with her home address stuck on the refrigerator door. And even though the description
of the plumber and the tone of her sound recording matched the description of the
woman's daughter. It was tough to accept that as is. You see,
the woman's daughter had died several months before. If you like paranormal storytelling and
comedy, you can find my other podcast with my co host Michelle. It's
called Scary Mystery Surprise. La Your ownA Alien Cases and in an upcoming episode,
I get a terror reading. Find Scary Mystery Surprise on your podcast app
or over on Scary Mystery Surprise dot com. Soon you'll be able to find
me on social at at scary Edwin. But in the meantime I'll keep posting
in my regular accounts. I'll link to it in the description of this episode.
If you want to listen at free, check out Scary Plus over on
scaryplus dot com. That'll really help out the show. Thank you very much
for listening, See you soon.