Hey there, it's Edwin and this Scary Story podcast. The following stories are
a collection of tales retold from the very first episodes that publish on the podcast
with improved audio and effects, ending with our featured story, The Ghost at
the Truck Stop The Creatures from the Hills. I was walking with two friends,
Nellie and Amy, along a type of lake formation in the sacred valley
of the Incas in Peru. I had already been in Peru for several months
as a solo traveler, so having company to go see the sites away from
the normal touristy stuff, it was pretty exciting this time. However, it
was particularly creepy since we truly had no connection to the civilized world and we
were all foreigners. There was another girl from the US and a girl from
France. For those of you who may not know, Peru has several towns
along the huge valley that runs along the Cunty. This has mainly small towns
with small shops and poorly lit roads with many potholes, and the traditional farmers
who traveled to sell their own produce to the larger towns and cities. Almost
every day we had gotten dropped off in Cincetto and planned to go back later
that evening. We decided to go exploring, and Google Maps has this cool
thing that lets you download maps on an iPhone so you don't need a connection
to see it. When I checked mine, I said that there was a
lake nearby. We decided right away that we wanted to go, and we
got on a taxi to take us there. The guy seemed confused at first
and didn't know where we were going to go or how to find an entrance
to the lake. We later found out that the lake wasn't made for tourists
and had a lot of mud and dried grass all around it, so getting
up to the shore was almost impossible. Once we got to the entrance by
a little boat house type of thing, we told the that we would find
our way back and he left us. It was a peaceful type of silence,
knowing that you're so far from all noises and city activity. We walked
around until we realized that there wasn't much we could do there. We started
messing around, taking pictures and making fun of Amy since she was a dared
devil of the group, and we would jump between the ditches and we get
scared after every sound that we would hear. There may have been snakes all
around there, but the dry grass was so tall that we would never be
able to tell the sun was setting, and we got distracted with our photos.
Since we were in a deep valley, the sun sets earlier, well,
not really sets, but the mountains blocked the sun earlier than if you
were in an area with the flat horizon. We wanted to go back to
the town, but we had two ways to do it. Either we went
back along where the driver dropped us off, or we could get some more
exploration done if we worked our way back to town away from the road along
what seemed to be dirt roads that led into the hills. We chose the
dirt roads since we had about an hour until we would be in complete darkness,
we figured we would be able to make it. It was a nice
walk, but we really didn't know where we were going, since the map
only showed a general direction on where the town was, but the dirt roads
weren't labeled, and sometimes they would curve out away from the town. We
only hoped that they would eventually wind the right way again. Reaching the top
of the hills was always nice because you would be able to get a clearer
view on where you were. But when I reached the top first I noticed
a man coming toward us from the side of the road. I asked him
in Spanish, how do we get back to the town. He was surprisingly
nice, but very curious. He didn't raise suspicion, and he actually turned
out to be really cool. He followed him toward his house, where we
met his wife and children. It may sound fake at this point, but
people in Peru are very hospitable, and it isn't weird at all to invite
people over. We didn't go inside, though, We stayed outside, and
we took a couple of pictures and agreed to come back for a type of
meal that gets cooked underground in a pit, you know of tradition of Peruvian
people. We forgot the name of it now, but we were all very
excited and agreed to come back, and had already gotten dark outside. But
Eddie, the farmer we had just met, mentioned that we should be careful
of the little people. The word in Spanish for it is the weinddy,
which means goblin. He said it with an odd seriousness that made me question
what he was talking about. He wasn't the first person to mention the goblins
in South America. I asked him who they were, and he said that
there are little people that live in tiny caves deep in the mountains. He
said that sometimes they come by and steal animals, but they have been known
to kidnap kids. Someone else had told me that they come from deformed fetuses
that women leave to die out in the hills. I was expecting the farmer
to laugh or something to relieve the tension, since we were all a bit
freaked out by his seriousness, but his expression never changed. He was genuinely
concerned about the goblins, and I think he really wanted us to be careful.
He started walking back with not much to say. We just wanted to
get back to the road, which we eventually found by following the lights and
the sounds of the occasional truck passing by. He wanted to hop on a
taxi, but they were trying to rip us off, so we decided to
walk back and try to find a hostel on our own. We knocked around
some doors, but not many people would answer. In the dark streets,
I would sometimes look out into the hills and find some figure moving maybe my
mind was beginning to play tricks on me. We eventually found a hostel and
spent the night there. It was nothing great and we had a very crappy
Wi Fi signal, but at least we were able to send a message out
to the rest of our friends to let them know where we were. The
whole night. I kept thinking about the goblins ever since then, I've asked
many farmers and old people about them. They all have told me the same
thing, that they do exist, that they live in the mountains. They
have very compelling videos and pictures. Those who have seen the goblins and want
to remember them have actually drawn them out with pen and paper. They all
seem to have some type of straw hat. They have short, stubby legs.
My girlfriend's family swear to have encountered with goblins in the past. They
describe the things as small, old looking people with sinister laughter who can scatter
like cockroaches when you turn on the lights. I still don't know if I
believe that they exist, but I know that there is a lot of land
in the hills in the valleys of Peru, some undisturbed for centuries. The
famous tourist attraction Machu Picchu was discovered recently. Anyway, who knows what happens
in the darkness of the hills and the lands haven't yet been explored the phenomenon
of time skipping. My only has a small branch in the Sonoran Desert.
Whenever there's a family member's birthday or some other events, we always assume that
it will take place there. It's about a mile from the main dirt road
and has amazing views of natural desert scenery. This must have happened six or
seven years ago, when you were celebrating another event and my uncle was hosting
a barbecue with all of the family. I don't remember exactly what the event
was. I forgot many things about that day. I still vividly recall one
event, the most inexplicable, chilling experience of my life. Before anyone else
arrived at the ranch and we were getting ready, I offered to go buy
ice down the road at the house of some lady who had made a shop
out of her property, which was also where she lived. I've always liked
technology stuff like iPods, games and things like that. This time around,
I was really into two way radios that let you scan around for others who
were also using them. Every once in a while we would mess around with
other conversations we would catch on our walkie talkies and make them changed channels.
I don't know why we thought this was so funny. I had a pair
of them with me, so I left one of them with my cousin and
left on my own, updating him on my location and other random stuff.
Just to have something to say. You would always respond with ten four.
I knew where the lady's shop was and worked my way there, looking straight
ahead. Maybe a five minute walk away, I assumed. So I walked
up to the front window of the house where apparently you would order from,
and I asked for two bags of ice. She went to go grab them,
and I gave her my money, and then she gave me the change,
and then started making my way back with one bag in each hand.
Ten four, my cousin said over the radio. I hadn't said anything.
I actually couldn't replied because I had no free hands, so I ignored it.
As I saw the ranch coming into view, the wind started blowing.
Those desert winds are terrible on the eyes, with dirt and sand blowing everywhere,
so I shut my eyes, but I kept walking straight ahead for a
few seconds. That's when I felt the push behind me. It was no
longer the wind, but some type of bubble of a strange force, like
the kind you feel when you put two magnets together with the same poles facing
each other. I turned around, but still couldn't open my eyes fully,
so I kept walking. I then remember feeling strange, like nausea or nervousness.
The wind now completely cleared up, and the ranch came into view through
the fence from a distance. The windows to the main house were shut,
the music was off. Up ahead, I could see that the four cars
that were parked outside across the field were missing. It was very weird,
but my mind couldn't really process the event until I walked up to the fence
and found it with the a huge lock attached to it holding it together.
I rattled it, expecting to hear the dogs come barking, but no dogs
ever came. At first, I thought that I had walked back to the
wrong place, to a ranch that looked similar to my uncles. But I've
been there many times before and I knew what it looked like. This is
the same place we would visit in the evenings when I would come with my
uncle to feed as dogs, except the dogs would be here every single time,
and began to panic a little. I started feeling very confused and my
head was spinning. I walked around the property with the ice beginning to melt
and leaking next to my footsteps. I put the eyes down and grabbed the
radio from my pocket. I pressed the button to talk, but the talkie
didn't make that little hiccup it does when you press it. Do you know
what I'm talking about? Not really a beep, but just kind of like
a faint static sound that lets you know to start talking. I noticed that
it wasn't on, so I pressed and held the power button, so I
started hearing a loud static sound, like too loud. I immediately changed the
channel, but the sound wouldn't go away. I lost track of what channel
my cousin went on, but I knew what to do. Normally, I
would just scan all the channels asking for him and waited a few seconds for
a response. Ten minutes must have passed before I decided to just head back
to the lady's store and maybe even head straight toward the main dirt road.
I knew the way back to the city. So even if I had to
walk for three hours, I knew I would eventually make it. With all
the static, I doubt my signal would break through to anyone. I picked
up the bags of ice once more, and I put the radio in my
pocket. I figured I would walk back to the lady's shop. I was
a little shaken up. As soon as the shop came into view. I
heard the radio buzz, and I put the ice down and took the radio
out again. That's when I heard a familiar voice ten four. It didn't
even reply. I just started almost running back to the ranch. When he
came into view, everything seemed normal and the music was on. I walked
back to the front gate, which was wide open, and my uncle's dogs
came running up to greet me. I went straight to the freezer. I
lifted the ice back to place them inside. I noticed that the ice was
still frozen solid, no signs of water ever dripping out. I looked at
my faint footsteps in the dirt and checked for signs of drops of water next
to them. It's where I was following the trail of water when I was
hurrying back to the ranch, But this time there was nothing. It was
a desert, after all, and water does evaporate fairly quickly. The heat
may have played a trick on me, heread I go again. I'm trying
to convince myself that this is normal, that this happens to everybody. Evil
items. I don't believe in witchcraft, but I've seen plenty of creepy things.
We had just moved into our new house, and having a place to
run around in was very fun. My sister and I grew up playing with
the kids in our apartment complex, but from now on it would be just
us running around in a big house. The house had a bathroom all the
way in the back corner, which is cool since I don't like people hearing
me go to the bathroom. This particular time, I was ready to pee
when I saw a blue figure floating on the top corner of the bathroom.
It was about the size of a large dog, and it was looking straight
at me. It was like a large jacket with arms coming straight down.
I forgot that I had to pee and ran straight for the front door,
which seemed like the longest run of my life at the time, so much
that I slipped on the brand new welcome mat that was in the front door.
I was trying to catch my breath when I heard a bunch of things
fought from inside the house. My parents were probably in the backyard or something,
since they came running toward the front door from the side of the house.
They asked if I was okay, and I said yes. My sister
was in a room and said that she didn't hear anything. I was very
quite kid and I didn't like to be made fun of, so I didn't
want to tell my dad about the thing I had seen in the bathroom.
I told him anyway. He took me seriously and went to the bathroom to
check it out. That's when he saw that the mirror door from our medicine
cabinet had fallen down with a loud crash, as well as a small toothbrush,
cup and other random things that were in there. He asked me if
I had done it, and I said no. He had a very serious
expression on his face, and it made me feel a little worried. He
asked me to go back outside with him, and I followed. Right by
the entrance to the backyard from the side of the house, there was a
small balloon type of thing on the ground. He asked me if I knew
what that was. I told him no, and he picked it up and
poked it with the pocket knife. He then dropped it. It looked like
a juggling ball, except it was all red and looked fairly light. I
never touched it, though, he said he stepped on it a little while
ago and wanted to know where it came from. I found it kind of
weird to be so obsessed with a little balloon thing, but I didn't say
anything. He went to the car and came back with the lighter while I
stood in the same spot. Then he grabbed the ball, and I watched
as the plastic rubber material of the ball started melting and the inside started to
show. It looked like a bunch of maggots. He dropped the ball to
the ground, holding the lighter down toward the thing. As the maggots,
which I guess looked like rice crispy cereal, began to burn up. I
saw that there was another thing in the middle of everything. This I could
identify easily. It was a coin, some old looking coin that was the
only thing that remained out of the ball. He took it to show it
to my mom, and then I never found out what happened to it.
I don't know if the thing that I had seen in the bathroom was connected
to that weird ball thing. But then many odd things started happening around the
house, including sounds of footsteps, dead crows showing up in our front lawn,
and even bars of soap with holes in the middle of ap peering in
the backyard. I literally had no idea what those things mean. I'm looking
for answers. It has been over twenty years since then, and my parents
still live in the same house. Nothing too weird has happened since those events
of my childhood. A light from my closet. I was around fourteen years
old when this happened, so I was old enough to not be afraid of
monsters hiding in the closet or under the bed. That makes this extra embarrassing
for me, since this is the first time that I shared my story publicly.
I was very interested in scary stories since I was a little kid.
I had the whole collection of scary stories to tell in the dark, encyclopedias
and printed articles that I got at school about scary events and legends. My
mom never liked those books around the house. In fact, she once threw
out one of my favorite t shirts because it had a skull on it.
It was no surprise that I started finding out that some of my books were
going missing because of her. One night, around midnight, I was woken
up by a bright light aimed right at my face. My bed is away
from the window, but in my half awake state, I thought that I
was right by it. The light was so bright that I thought that there
was a police helicopter shining a light right at me. Fully awake, I
sat up on my bed and realized that the light was coming from the closet.
As soon as I realized this, the light started becoming dimmer and dimmer
until it turned into a tiny candle light speck, but I could see it
clearly. I was freaking out, so I rolled over and went straight for
my door. I could see the light underneath the door, so I knew
my parents were still awake in the living room down the hallway. I ran
so fast away from my room that I ran into the opposing wall of the
hall. My dad came running after me to see what was wrong. I
told him what I saw, and he could tell that I was shaking up,
so he went straight for the closet and started digging through it. He
always believed this kind of stuff, especially since I've had encounters before. He
took out a box from the closet and opened it. It's only to find
out that half of my collection of scary story books were there. At first,
I was happy that I had found them, but reality quickly set in.
But if that light had something to do with the books, I guess
I'll never know. But every once in a while, I wake up thinking
that I see that same light, but I somehow figure out that it's a
dream pretty quickly. I vividly remember the bright, blinding light from that one
night. I've searched countless forums to see if I find similar stories, and
I have, but they mentioned theories about alien abductions. I'm not entirely sure
if that's what happened with me, but they definitely haven't happened often enough for
me to be scared of anything that belongs outside of this world. Our feature
story, The Ghost at the Truck Stop, is coming up right after this.
The Ghost at the Truck Stop. I'm a truck driver. Most of
my trips take me all around California, but I mainly do loads and unloads
between the north and South part of the state. The desert at night is
a peaceful setting, and I've gotten to know all of the exits along the
five Freeway. It was a long night, it was going to be early
to my destination and I would be forced to wait in line to unload whatever.
It was better to wait outside of a warehouse instead of being parked along
an old truck stop with dirty showers and clogged toilets. I think they were
out of service this one night. There was this particular truck stop that had
a history. You see. I had been told in the breakrooms of different
offices before that this place near the Rosemary exit was haunted after so many hours
on the road and lack of proper sleep, where imaginations tend to get the
better of us. Maybe knowing that to made the whole thing a little more
uneasy where. I really didn't like the bathroom situation, at least that's what
I told myself. If you've never been inside of a truck before, there
are usually two bunks, a small area where you can eat or read a
book, regular outlets, and the driver and passenger seats. When you're sleeping
on one of the bunks, you have easy access to a window that you
can open to get some air. I was in the bottom bunk when it
happened. I was trying to fall asleep when I heard something hit the side
of the truck. When someone's trying to wake you up to get you to
move so that they have room to move their trucks around, it happens often.
I opened up the window and looked outside, but couldn't see anybody.
That's when I heard the knocking again. This time it was from the other
side of the truck. I moved up over the seats to get a closer
look at my mirrors, just in case I could catch a glimpse of something.
The sides of the truck were empty. Those mirrors give you a clear
view all around except for the back part of the trailer where the trailer doors
are. Then I heard a squeak. Two other trailers parked quite a distance
away, and I was sure it was neither of them. They were trying
to open up my trailer. I grabbed my baseball match and flashlight, and
I opened the door to the passenger side and I aimed a flashlight at the
bottom of the trailer to find a pair of legs someone walking around, but
there was nobody there. I stepped down and went around to the back.
My door was properly shut. Confused, I went back to the truck and
locked both doors and I started up my engine. I wasn't going to stay
there any longer. I guess I would be three hours early to the warehouse.
I was coming down from one of the long curvy roads through the hills,
just before getting to the long stretch of desert, when I saw something
behind the truck. There were flashing red and blue lights. I was getting
pulled over. I was going way under the speed limit since my triller was
loaded, and I hadn't even stepped on the gas and so I was still
moving with the momentum I gained from the hills. Maybe that was a problem.
So I pulled over, and two police officers came toward the passenger door
and asked me to open it. I did, and then went back to
turn off my engine. They asked me if everything was okay, and I
asked them what the problem was. They asked if I was by myself in
the truck, and I said yes, That's when they looked at each other
and one of them, the taller one, asked if I could let him
take a look around and for me to step down. I said sure,
Having nothing to hide, I came down and he went up the step,
saying police hello. I told the other officer that I was by myself,
but he kept staring at me. I was more confused than anything, since
they weren't being very clear with me. I asked the officer to tell me
what they were doing and that they couldn't just go around doing this kind of
thing to people, especially if they're just trying to work. It was freezing
outside too. Just as the other officer stepped down that when I was talking
to told me to give them a minute. The officer explained that the truck
was empty, that he checked everything out. I was getting angry at the
whole situation. I didn't understand what was going on, and that's when they
told me the reason I wish they hadn't. The police cruiser was parked on
the side of the road when I passed by slower than usual. As I
was driving by, both officers were caught by surprise when they saw a woman
waving frantically at them from the passenger seat of my truck. Let me know
what you thought about the tales re told and if you'd like me to rework
some of our older stories. In the meantime, I'll keep coming up with
the original ones. Thank you very much for your ideas that I've been getting
via email, and if you want to send me one, I'll drop my
email address into the description of this episode. You can also find me via
Twitter or Instagram at Edwin Cove. That's e d w I n c o
V. Scary Story podcast is written and produced by me Edwin Gomarrubias. Remember
to tap follow to keep getting these stories sent straight to you. For ad
free and early access episodes, find us on scaryplus dot com or by starting
your free trial on Apple Podcasts. Thank you very much for listening, See
you soon.