Speaker 1: One of my favorite memories as a kid happened during
a particular sleepover. My friends came over to spend the weekend,
and I always remembered how we ordered a Papa John's
pizza every night during that weekend. That precious memory stuck
with me as I grew older, and what happened that
night eventually became a habit, as I always order a
Papa John's pizza every night during the weekend. Most of
the time, I'd invite some of my friends over, and
it didn't take long before they coined the term Papa
John's Weekends, and it had becomes something we always looked
forward to after a long week of work, and we
always had a good time whenever we did it. Now,
a strange thing recently happened during one of our fun weekends.
I had some friends over and as usual, we ordered
a couple of pizzas from Papa John's. When the pizzas arrived,
I answered the door to take our order, and that's
when I noticed something strange. The delivery guy, whose name
was Jace, that a very disturbing look in his eyes.
It looked like he was angry about something, and for
some reason, all that anger was targeted at me as
he intensely stared at me with a malicious look on
his face. My friends who were there noticed this strange
behavior and asked me if I knew him or the
reason for his rude demeanor, but I was just as
confused as I told him I had never met that
man before in my life. We decided to brush it
off that night as we didn't want anything to spoil
the mood, but the same thing happened the next night
when we ordered our usual pizza, as the strange delivery
man came back with the same attitude that he had
had the night before. It eventually became a reoccurring problem
for me every time I ordered a pizza, as it
was always the same angry delivery guy who delivered my order.
Things got worse from there as I noticed him following
me around during the week and hanging around my house.
My friends also noticed this and they told me to
call the cops, but I decided not to as I
didn't want things to escalate any further. One Friday night,
at around twelve o two am, someone started to incessantly
bring my doorbell. Shocked, I wondered who could be visiting
me at this hour, so I went to the door
to check. As I looked through the peephole, my heart
dropped to my stomach as standing there with bulging red
eyes was that strange delivery man. He rang the doorbell
for a while, and when I didn't answer, I heard
him making his way to the back of my house. Terrified,
I wondered what he was going to do now, and
that's when I realized my bedroom window was still open.
I rushed to close it, but by the time I
got there, I was too late. As I saw him
standing in my bedroom, scared, I screamed, what do you
want from me, you psycho? He then calmly looked at
me and said, but I just want to talk. I
looked around for my phone to call the cops, and
I realized that I left it on the counter. He
made an attempt to reach for it, but he was
faster than me as he grabbed the phone, saying, please
just hear me out before you call the cops. I
knew I had no choice now, so I listened as
he said. My brother Matthew went missing a couple of
months ago. He was a pizza delivery guy like me,
and we both worked at Papa John's. The cops still
have no leads to his whereabouts, so I decided to
check out the locations of the last deliveries he made
that night. As he spoke, I realized he was telling
the truth, as the cops had come over a few
months back to ask me if I knew anything about
the disappearance. So I told him I heard about that,
but as I told the police officers that day, I
don't know anything that might have happened to him after
he delivered the pizza I ordered that night. Jace, who
now had tears in his eyes, then said, he isn't
the first one of our employees to go missing, and
I can't help thinking that it's my fault because I
got him this job. That's why I felt I needed
to do something, which is why I've been following you
around to see if you had anything to do with it.
I was still scared, but I started to sympathize with
the strange man, so I said, look, man, I understand
i'd probably do something crazy too if I lost a
family member, but that's what the cops are for. You
can't be breaking into homes and taking matters into your
own hands when I was done talking. Jace then said,
I'm sorry, but I just had to check and make sure.
Either way, you seem like a nice person, so I
apologize for all the inconvenience and trauma I've caused. I'm
going to leave now, so please don't call the cops.
I promised him I wouldn't and offered him any help
in finding his brother. But as he stood up to leave,
I found myself staring at his neck. I really didn't
want to, but it had been a while and I
couldn't help myself, so I picked up my pocket knife
and stabbed him in the neck. As he fell to
the floor bleeding, I found myself getting excited at the
sight of his blood. The mixed look of terror and
confusion in his eyes made me feel a little bit sad,
so I decided to give him an explanation. I'm really sorry, dude,
but I had to. You see, Jace, from a very
young age, I realized I had something called hematalagnia. It's
basically a blood fetish, as I always find myself getting
excited and aroused by the side of blood. Jace was
struggling now as he tried to stop the blood that
was gushing from his neck, so I continued with When
I was ten, I cut my dog open with a
kitchen knife because I wanted to see his insides, and
I told my family that he'd run away. When I
was twelve, I pushed a girl off the top of
a high jungle gem. The impact crushed her skull, and
I can never forget the amazing feeling I got from
seeing her blood spill out. As I got older, I
found myself wanting more, so I picked my victims off
in parks or in the street at night. I mostly
killed homeless men and women in addition to late night walkers.
But doing that was a bit too risky, so I
decided to work smarter and around last year Jays, I
had an amazing epiphany when I ordered a Papa John's
pizza as I realized that the men and women who
worked in delivery were the perfect prey to satisfy my urges.
I mean, these are people whose jobs take them all
over the city, so accurately tracking down their last locations
prove difficult even for the cops. It's not like I
had anything against the delivery people at Papa John's Pizza.
Matter of fact, I love your pizzas. But sometimes, Jays,
the urge is so strong and I just can't help myself,
you understand. Right. As I looked towards Jace's motionless body,
I realized that I'd been talking to a corpse. He
was dead now, but there was still fun to be had.
As I repeatedly stabbed his body with my knife, and
similar to a fun and YadA, I shrilled an excitement
every time his blood spilled out. When I had my
fill of fun, I had decided it was time to
get to work. I moved his bloody corpse first before
I cleaned out my room with bleach. I then took
off his clothes before taking his corpse to the basement.
After putting on some protective gear, I put his body
into one of the four barrels of sulphuric acid that
I had, and just like his brother, I knew there'd
be no trace of him in a couple of days.
When I was done, I put on the Papa John's
restaurant uniform that I had gotten from one of my victims,
and I went outside to Jase's car. I did this
in case any eye witnesses had seen him break into
my house. And then drove the car deep into the
nearby four and made sure to use gloves when touching
the steering wheel so that there wouldn't be any prints
in the car. There were no cameras in my neighborhood,
so when the cops come over to ask their routine questions,
it is only my words they'll believe. Doing this was
hungry work. So when I got back home, I decided
to order another Papa John's pizza. The delivery girl's name
was Abby, and as I paid for the pizza, I
smiled because I really couldn't wait to see what her
insides looked like.
Speaker 2: My name is Elsa and more than a story, this
is a warning, a warning to all the people who
are too trusting or you have to deal with other people.
Always remember that you can never get to know someone completely.
I learned this lesson the hard way, and yet I
consider myself a lucky girl, no matter how traumatized I was.
The fact that I survived that night and can tell
this story is miraculous. It all started when I turned sixteen.
I wanted to earn money when I was young, so
I started babysitting after school. All the neighbors trusted me.
I was always the child who behaved well, listened to
my parents, and never throw a tantrum. Little by little,
all my neighbors begin to trust me to take care
of their children. Every time I finished the night, neighbors
would tell other neighbors how well I worked, and soon
the whole neighborhood was calling me on the phone. Everyone
had children except my neighbor across the street, the Adams family.
You could say they were the best neighbors in the neighborhood.
They had the best house, they were the wealthiest, and
they were very polite. Everyone was in love with them,
and that family had a special affection for me. When
I was a child, they always gave me toys, candy,
and even clothes. They treated me as if I was
the daughter they never had. I didn't understand why, but
I was grateful because I knew they were good people.
Time went by, and when I turned eighteen, I decided
to go to the city to study. So I needed money.
I started to work more and more, but I felt
that my little job was not enough and my parents
did not have enough money to help me. I was desperate,
but luckily, the solution came knocking on my door. Mister
and missus Adams, what brings you here?
Speaker 1: Hi Yosa. We heard about your little financial problem then
wanted to help you.
Speaker 2: Oh no, no, no, I'm grateful, but I couldn't ask
you for this. It's too much. I could never pay
it back. Honey, there's no need. We've known you all
our lives.
Speaker 1: Besides, we won't be given. You don't have to work
for the money.
Speaker 2: And what do you need me to do?
Speaker 1: Our niece is coming from the city and we need
you to take care of her this Saturday. You were
our first and only choice, and we won't hear no
for an answer.
Speaker 2: You know I charge a lot less right, consider it
a tip for being such a good girl all these years.
I thanked them endlessly and they left. Finally, my luck
was changing. The day came. I finally met the girl,
and as I expected, I liked her very much, although
I must admit she was a little strange. Her skin
was much whiter than usual. It was as if she
didn't go out too often. Her eyes were a deep,
strange black color. But what caught my attention the most
was her smile. The girl had a smile from ear
to ear that gave me chills. At first, I thought
she was just trying to be cute, but as time
went on, her gaze became more penetrating and her smile
more terrifying, and worst of all, she kept looking at me.
The Atoms laughed and left me alone with the girl,
who very politely asked me to make her lunch. She
didn't look at me as much, but I still felt
some creepy vibes coming from her. When the food was done,
the girl concentrated on eating. She looked hungry, as if
she hadn't eaten in years. Suddenly she stopped and stared
at me, speaking to me, miss Elsa, could you tell
the man behind me to stop staring at me while
I eat? Perplexed and terrified, I looked behind her, and
in darkness, I saw a silhouette. I reached for my
phone to call the police, but I had forgotten it
at home. The Atoms's phone was next to the silhouette,
and from the kitchen there was no way out. We
were at the mercy of this person. I grabbed a knife,
ready to investigate. Stay here while I go and see
what's going on. The girl just ignored me and continued eating.
I approached the shadow slowly. The silhouette didn't make the
slightest movement, but I knew it could jump at me
at any moment. I moved a little closer to the
switch and nervously turned it on. There was no one there.
What what it must have been the reflection of there
must have been a sudden scare. The little girl jumped
out of nowhere at her leg, sticking the fork in it. Ah, Amy,
what the hell are you doing? With one push, I
pushed her off my leg and she ran to hide
among the dining room furniture. She didn't hide out of fear.
Her look said she was about to attack me again.
As best I could, I ran towards the door to
leave the house, but two huge silhouettes stopped me. They
were the Adams family, who were somehow in the house,
preventing me from leaving.
Speaker 1: I'm sorry, Elsa, but you can't leave.
Speaker 2: What why are you doing this to me? What do
you want? The man quickly grabbed me, while the wife
kept talking to me. Meanwhile, the little girl quickly approached
me with a knife in her hand and a huge
smile on her face. You see, honey, we have nothing
personal against you. But in our family we always have
a rite of passage.
Speaker 1: The youngest member of the family is not in atoms
until they kill a person. We just give them the
right environment.
Speaker 2: We are taking care of you since you were a
little girl, and so many years have paid off. You
are the perfect sacrifice. I struggled as hard as I could,
but I started to get dizzy. I was losing a
lot of blood from my leg. Pulling strength from where
I had none, I managed to free myself and ran
to the backyard of the house to climb over the
fence and escape. When I got there, I couldn't believe
my eyes. The yard was full of people in black robes.
They were all lined up staring at me. Behind me,
I saw the little girl running desperately, ready to attack
me again. But she was still a little girl, so
I easily dodged her and ran for the gate. Before
I got there, mister Adams stepped out of the shadows
and stopped me again. I started to struggle with him again,
while the girl kept walking with a huge smile on
her face, ready to kill me. I grabbed a vase
next to me and smashed it over mister Adams's head
and ran to the kitchen. I had nowhere to go
on the way. I tried to grab the knife I
had dropped earlier, but suddenly missus Adams lunched at me.
Oh no, you're not getting that knife, you little brat.
We both fell to the floor, but I recovered first
and grabbed the knife. The lady ran towards me to
take my knife, but on reflex I defended myself and
stuck it into her neck.
Speaker 1: Oh.
Speaker 2: The muffled scream lasted only a short time. Almost instantly,
the gleam went out of missus adams eyes. She was dead.
I looked up and next to me were all the
men with black robes, mister Adams and the girl. I'm
I'm sorry, Please don't kill me when I thought I
was dead, Mister Adams answered with a big smile.
Speaker 1: Oh, on the contrary, child, you are a member of
the family now. What you shed blood on the initiation day?
You are one of us now?
Speaker 2: But when will I be initiated?
Speaker 1: Take it easy, little Annie. You have plenty of time
to kill.
Speaker 2: She's your wife, don't you care? No, the man answered
me with a smile so cold and terrifying that it
made my blood run cold. In the middle of this talk,
I couldn't stand it any more and my eyes begin
to close. I had lost too much blood. I felt
an impact against the ground, and from then on I
just fell asleep. I woke up in my bed the
next day at home. I looked at my leg and
it was bandaged. I walked with some difficulty, and on
the table there was all the money I needed and
a letter. You are part of the family now. You
will always be with us, and we will always take
care of you. But if anyone finds out about us,
that person will die. As soon as I finished reading,
my parents rushed upstairs and hugged me, telling me that
mister Adams told them how someone broke into the house
and I barely survived. I decided not to tell them
the truth to protect them. I moved out a few
months later. Every time I look out the window, walk
down the street, and even go to college, I see
people smiling at me. Strangely, I don't think this is
a coincidence. As time went by, I believed mister Adams
more and more. I will never be alone again.
Speaker 1: My name is why, of course, sir, and I love
spending the weekends with my grandkids. Their names are Matt
and Tracy, and they always come by at the end
of every week to spend some time with me. We
usually spend these days the park having fun, and one
thing that we always do after a long day of
playing around is to go eat at the nearest McDonald's.
Just like everyone else in the United States, my grandkids
are obsessed with the notorious Happy Meals, and while I
always take them to get their meals, I find myself
getting tense because every time I walk through the doors
of a McDonald's restaurant, I get shivers up my spine. Now,
I'm sure you're wondering what could I possibly be afraid
of in a McDonald's restaurant. But the thing is, I've
always felt like this since that fateful incident. It happened
on the ninth of November nineteen fifty five. I was
twenty two years old at the time, and if I'm
remembering correctly, I had recently gotten a job as a
taxi driver. My job took me all over Downey As
I would spend the whole day driving people around, and
I would always come back late at night. That day,
I was supposed to take a woman a friend's house.
I asked well her friend lived, and she told me
he lived very close to one two o seven Lakewood
Boulevard at Florence Avenue in Downey. I remember being really tired,
as I had driven around a lot of passengers that day,
but I managed to muster up the strength to do it.
So she got into the car and I started taking
her to the address. I picked her up around two
thirty am, and we finally arrived at her destination by
three AM. I put on the radio during the drive
back home, and on the station I tuned into, they
were talking about some of the recent ghastly things that
had been happening in Downey. Were. For starters, a couple
of mentally deranged patients had escaped from the Downy Asylum,
and ever since these dangerous patients escaped a lot of
people had been going missing in town. There was no
hard evidence yet, but the cops believed the deranged patients
were behind the strange disappearances in town, as most of
them were insane murderers. The last thing the station said
before I turned it off was remember to be careful, folks,
and please try not to stay out late in Downey.
The cops have rounded up some of the escape patients,
but there are still many of them out there. I
already knew I wasn't supposed to be out this late,
as it was three in the morning, but with the
massive fear going around town and the lack of drivers
at night, I found myself making a lot of money
when working the nights. I knew it was risky, but
I needed the money, and I also knew how to
protect myself if anything happened. I put on some music
after that announcement to lighten the mood, and as I
drove on, I came across a very strange sight. I
was at the mc donald's restaurant on one O two
O seven Lakewood Boulevard at Florence Avenue in Downey, California. Now,
I know seeing a McDonald's restaurant in this day and
age is a regular thing, as they are basically everywhere,
but in my time they were a very rare sight.
This was because the restaurants were still owned by the
original McDonald's brothers, Richard and Maurice McDonald's, and the restaurant
wasn't really a mass franchise, as Ray Kroc hadn't bought
them out yet. I also didn't know they started offering
twenty four hour services, as the early McDonald's restaurants didn't
offer that. But that wasn't the major thing that seemed
strange to me. No, what really seemed strange were the
twenty five plus people who were seated outside the restaurant
and eating burgers at three AM. I didn't believe my
eyes at first, as I figured there was no way
these many people would be eating out here this late,
knowing fully well that the streets were dangerous. But as
I drove closer, I realized my eyes weren't playing tricks
on me, as all those people were actually there. I
decided to drive up to the restaurant, and I remember
seeing the massive neon chef called Speed lighting up the driveway.
Most of you don't know this, but Speed was mc
donald's original mascot before he was replaced by Ronald McDonald
in nineteen sixty three. After I had parked my car,
I got down and made my way to the restaurant.
To make things a bit clear, I'd like to point
out that at that time, McDonald's wasn't really a full
blown restaurant. It was more of a Hamburger stand, as
you couldn't dine in the restaurant like the McDonald's are nowadays,
but there were chairs outside where people could see it
and eat if they didn't want to leave. Then. I
remember being very perplex seeing over twenty people on those
chairs at that time of night. I tried to come
up with a feasible explanation as to why they were
all here, but I couldn't, so I decided to order
a burger and talk to some of them. I walked
up to the counter to order a hamburger for fifteen cents,
as that's how much they were sold for at the time,
But before the cook could take my order, I noticed
a twelve year old child staring at me with a
strange look in his eyes. At first, I thought there
was something on my face, as I figured that was
why I was staring at me like that, but I
soon realized that there was nothing strange on my face.
Even after confirming this, the child kept staring at me,
and while he didn't say anything, it looked like he
was trying to tell me I didn't belong there. I
was about to say something to the child when the
cook came to the stand and took my order. The
man asked, hey, sir, what would you like me to
get you? So I told him the hamburger please. The
cook then said, and would you like a twenty cent
milkshake to watch that burger down? So I replied with yes,
you can add a milkshake. As the cook went to
get my order, I noticed something very odd in the
hamburger stand. The cook was the only one there. I'd
been to a McDonald's hamburger stand before and there were
usually two or three people working the stand, so seeing
him doing everything alone seemed strange to me. When the
man came back with my burger in milkshake, I tried
to make some small conversation. So I asked him I
didn't know McDonald's started working at night. Is this new
twenty four hour service here to stay or is it
just a one night thing. I noticed the cook got
really nervous when I asked him this question, as he
started to stutter, no, No, it's not a twenty four
hour service thing. I just worked a late night shifts sometimes.
I could tell he was hiding something now, so I said, well,
it's a pretty busy night for you, having all these
people out here. At three in the morning. Immediately as
I finished my sentence, the cook froze. His eyes were
bulging red now as he looked me dead in the
eyes and said, you can see him too. Shocked at
his response, I backed away from the counter. I thought
he was playing a sick prank on me at first,
but before I could respond, I heard the sound of
police sirens. I looked to the driveway to see a
cock car pulling up towards the restaurant, and two police
officers walked out of the car. I knew they had
been patrolling the streets at night due to the recent
events in town. I opened my mouth to greet the officers,
but before I could say anything, one of the officers said,
what are you two doing out here? By this time,
we didn't know mc donald's started working at three forty
five in the morning. His statement made me confused, as
I wondered why he used the words you too when
over twenty five people were sitting at the restaurant. I
wanted to ask the officer what he meant when he
said license and registration please. I quickly did as he
asked as I showed him my papers, and when I
was done, he asked the cook in the hamburger stand.
Unlike me, the cook didn't give his papers to the officers,
so he was asked to step out of the stand,
but the cook refused, so the officer pulled out his
gun and said, please step out of the hamburger stand, sir,
I'm not going to ask you again, and with no
other options, the cook did as they asked. Immediately, as
the man stepped out into the driveway, I saw a
look of realization on the police officer's face as he shouted,
it's him, it's Tim Miller. I've just found one of
the most dangerous mental patients that escaped from the asylum.
After this statement, the officer immediately went to restrain the man,
with his other colleague coming to a system. And as
this bizarre rest went down, I noticed another very strange
thing that didn't make sense for starters. The twenty five
plus people that were sitting and eating their burghers didn't
show any reaction to what was going on, and that
was very strange to me, as every normal human being
would show some reaction after finding out that it was
an escape mental patient that just made the food they
were all eating, but they didn't care to be honest,
it seemed like they couldn't see what was going on
as they just kept chatting and eating. As the cops
dragged the man called Tim Miller away, he started to scream,
I'm not crazy, I'm not crazy. He can see them too.
The officer who took notice of this, then walked up
to me and said, are you with us? Man? Are
you also on escape? What is he talking about? I
was scared now, so I said, no, officer, I just
arrived here like all these other people. The cop, who
was visibly confused, raised his gun at me and said,
what other people? There's no one here? Are you sure
you're not one of the mental patients. The other officer
who had put Tim Miller in the car then told
his colleague, even if he is an escape mental patient,
I don't think he'd tell you, Frank, he's clearly crazy,
so let's just take him in and confirm it at
the asylum. I wasn annoyed now, so I said, what
do you mean there aren't other people? Can't you see
them right here eating burgers? The cop was convinced I
was crazy now, as he told the other officer to
restrain me. But before they could I shouted, what is
wrong with you people? Can't you see the twelve year
old boy standing here? And as I touched the boy's
shoulder to make my point, I felt shiftus go up
my spine. The child's skin was as cold as eyes,
and immediately I touched him. Each and every one of
them stopped eating and looked at me. I instantly took
my hands off, as I knew full well what I
touched wasn't human. His skin wasn't supposed to feel like that,
and as my mind struggled to make sense of what
was going on, all the twenty five people vanished before
my very eyes. That was my breaking point, as I
fell to the floor screaming. The cops, who were convinced
I was crazy, now restrained me and took me in.
I didn't blame them, because even though I knew I
wasn't a mental patient, I completely lost my mind at
that moment. I was taken to the Downy Asylum that night,
and the staff confirmed to the police that I wasn't
one of the mental patients who had escaped. But even
though this was cleared up, the cops still insisted that
I had clearly lost my mind, and I should be
checked in. I spent my days with numerous psychologists, and
I told them everything that happened that night. Not many
of them believed me, and the ones who did asked
me to give a detailed description of the people I saw.
Shockingly enough, all the descriptions of the faces I could
remember matched the ones of many people that had gone
missing in down here. The case baffled both the cops
and psychologists as they wondered why I saw those missing
people that night, people who the two police officers assured
everyone weren't there. Investigations were carried into the matter, and
it was eventually revealed that Tim Miller, the mental patient
who was caught on that night, might have been behind
their disappearances. For starters, the man suffered from a peculiar
case of alternate personality disorder. He had four different character traits,
one of them being a cook and another being a
violent killer. The cops believed Tim had broken into that
McDonald's restaurant after hours and posed as a cook to
lower in potential customers. They then theorized that after serving
them their food, Tim would switch personalities and kill each
and every one of them, a fate that I might
have met that night. The McDonald's restaurant further proved this
claim as they confirmed they had reported a used kitchen
whenever they arrived in the mornings, and they also said
they didn't know who Tim Miller was. McDonald's further stated
that they also didn't offer twenty four hour service at
this time. While this theory seemed like the best possible option,
none of these claims were ever confined, as the supposed
perpetrator was deemed mentally insane, so his words and confessions
weren't clear, and the bodies of the victims were never found.
No feasible explanation was also given as to why I
saw those people, and after a year of undergoing treatment,
I was released back into the real world. Even at
eighty nine years of age, I can still remember that
night very clearly. That particular McDonald's still stands to this
day in Downey as it escaped modernization. The McDonald's restaurants
still didn't offer twenty four hour service after this incident,
and it wasn't till they were bought out by Ray
Kroc that a few branches started offering the service. In
the year two thousand and two, nearly forty seven years
after this incident. I know it's been a very long
time since it happened, and I kept quiet about it
as I didn't want anyone to see me as a
crazy person. This is why I always get shivers every
time I walk into a McDonald's restaurant, as I sometimes
see people that I believe don't belong there. I try
to brush off that strange feeling as I don't want
to be called crazy, But deep down, every time I
passed that particular McDonald's restaurant in Downey, I always wonder
if those missing people still appear there every night to
order a happy meal, just like the rest of us.
Speaker 3: This story was taken from the personal diary of my father,
Wyatt Coulson. I'm his daughter, Jeanette Coulson, and sadly Whyatt
passed away recently. I found this in his diary when
I was clearing out his things, so I decided to
share his story with the rest of the world.
Speaker 1: It happened on the twenty fifth of November two thousand
and seven, a day I can never forget. It was
around one in the morning and I was on the highway. Now,
i'd probably driven past this highway a thousand times as
my time as a truck driver always saw me using
this route. But that night was different and I could
tell that something was very wrong. I started my journey
by eight pm on that fateful day, and I was
supposed to deliver a massive crate of soft drinks to
the nearest warehouse that was located on the outskirts of town.
After the truck was loaded up, I quickly began my journey,
and on my way to the warehouse, all I could
think about was Susie, my nine year old daughter, whom
i'd left at home. It had been really hard for
us since her mother decided to leave, so it was
up to me to take care of her. I had
recently asked my boss if I could take the night
shifts as I wanted to spend my days with my daughter.
And even though I hated driving at night as I
knew the dangers of doing that, there was a small
sacrifice I had to make so that I could be
there when my little angel woke up to go to school.
So I drove with a smile on my face. Everything
went fine at first, as I remember putting on the
radio to listen to my usual station. The station was
talking about a recent slew of attacks on the roads,
but I want to manage to identify the assailants. I
intentatively listened to the reports, as I hadn't heard any
news of the attacks from the other truck drivers. I
tried to increase the volume of the radio when it
abruptly lost its signal. Loud static noise filled my truck
as I started to fiddle with the radio. The radio
had been acting up recently and I had meant to
fix it but just didn't have the time. I tried
to turn it off and on again, but that's went
out the corner of my eye, I saw something that
shocked me. I slowed down the truck as I thought
my eyes were playing tricks on me, but after getting
a good look at it, I knew I wasn't mistaken.
Laid out before me were a couple of cut down
trees locking the highway path. Now this would have been
normal if the highway was surrounded by trees, as it
wasn't uncommon for a tree to fall by itself and
block the path, But there weren't any other trees in sight,
so it was clear to me that someone had purposely
put it there to block the path. I was tense now,
as I didn't know why the path was blocked or
what was going to happen next. I thought about going back,
but I had already spent five hours on the road
and I knew going back to use a different route
would cost me more time. I also knew the warehouse
I was supposed to deliver the goods to was really close.
I thought about it for a couple of minutes, and
against better judgment, I decided to continue forward. I slowly
hit the gas as I wanted to make sure I
drove over the trees softly. I didn't want to drive slowly,
but I knew doing that made sure the goods weren't compromised. Unfortunately,
that was another costly mistake, as right when I was
about to cross the trees, I saw them. Numerous men
holding metal pipes and rocks immediately emerged from the darkness.
The sight of these people made my heart jump and
I instantly froze. My mind started to race as I
wondered what they were going to do to me, and
that's when I watched in horror as they all attacked
my truck. The men at the front tried to take
out my headlights, and I heard them violently striking the
front of the truck with their metal pipes. The men
who held bricks and rocks then started to throw their
projectiles at my windows and windshield. It didn't take long
before my windshield's glass gave out and I felt a
hard brick strike my head. The pain was unbearable, and
I could feel the blood from the wound on my
head dripping into my right eye. My vision then became
blurry and a searing pain ran through my entire body.
I could hear them on the sides of the truck now,
and I was scared shitless. But even with all this happening,
all I could think about was my daughter, Susie. I
knew I couldn't die here as I was the only
one she had left. Her mother had already abandoned her.
I wasn't going to leave her too, so I stealed
my resolve. I hesitated to do this at first, as
I didn't want to kill anyone, but I knew at
this moment it was either my life or theirs, so
I gathered the strength and hanked my horn. I did
that as a warning, as I knew I wasn't going
to stop now. So with no hesitation, I hit the gas.
The truck started moving forward and I watched them all
scatter as I made my way for the trees. Driving
over the blockade was a rough bump, and I heard
the goods in the back jolt and fall, but I
didn't care. I knew I had to do anything to
get out of there. I finally made my way past
the trees, and for a second I thought the worst
was over. But that's when I heard loud thuds outside
the truck. I then looked through my window to see
a crazy looking man holding onto the door of my
truck like a psychotic stowaway. His eyes were bulging red
and he held a jagged rock in his left hand. Luckily,
the window on my door wasn't completely broken like my windshield,
but it was still severely cracked, and even though the
window was closed, the man's streams were verbed through the
entire truck as he screamed the words stop the truck
where I'm going to send you straight hell. Fear filled
every inch of my body now, but I didn't let
that stop me as I kept hitting the gas, seeing
I wasn't going to listen to him. The crazy man
then lifted the rock and brought it down with all
his strength on my window. I wasn't surprised when the
window gave in, as it was already severely cracked from
the last attack. I knew I couldn't take another blow
to the head like the one I had gotten earlier,
so I handled the wheel with one hand and I
maneuvered his attacks with the other. I managed to get
him to drop the rock, and that's when he started
to force his hand on the wheel to get the
truck to stop. I'd lost a lot of blood now
from the wound on my head, and I knew I
couldn't do this. All night, I racked my brain looking
for a solution, and at first I thought about violently
swerving the truck to shake him off, but I knew
I could hurt someone else if I did that. I
was desperate now, as I knew I had to do something,
and that's when I remember to detail that saved my life.
Having traveled this route before, I knew that a few
minutes away from the warehouse was a police station. So
I mustered every ounce of strength left in my body
and I made my way there. It didn't take long
for my assailant to realize what was going on, and
right before we reached the station, the man finally let
go of the truck. I watched in horror out of
my partly broken rear view mirror as I could see
my assailant fall and tumble on the hard asphalt. Shockingly,
the speeding cars on the road managed to stop in
time before they could run him over. I figured my
assailant was already dead now, as it was a pretty
hard fall, but to my surprise, I saw the man
get up and hobble out of sight. The cops in
the station had already heard all the commotion, and a
couple of them started to chase the man. The remaining
officers who didn't go after him, stayed behind to help me.
As I came out of the truck, I started to
stutter the words I was viciously attacked by a group
of men, and it's all on my desk cam. I
proceeded to get the device when I suddenly felt woozy.
I then fell to my knees as they all surrounded me.
One of the cops then said, you need to calm down, sir.
You're badly hurt. Is there some one we can call,
But before I could respond, the world around me started
to get dark, and the last thing I managed to
say before I passed out was Susy. That's all I
could think about was her. I woke up in the
hospital the next day, and sleeping on a chair in
my room was my daughter, Susy. I could tell she
had been crying all night, and right when I was
about to call out to her, she woke up. She
immediately ran to hug me, and I remembered crying tears
of joy as I had survived that morbid incident and
I was able to see my little girl again. After
this moment, the cops came into the room and asked
for my statement, so I told them everything that happened.
The cops then told me my dash camp footage was
watched and they were able to catch most of my assailants.
They then assured me that a rigorous search was still
going on to find the ones that were still on
the run so that they could be brought to justice.
I never rode at night again after that incident. I
asked my boss for shorter days, and even if it
meant lesser pay, it also meant I could spend more
time with my cat. I also knew I was staying
safe and the potentially dangerous people lurking on the streets
at night. This ghastly incident left me with some PTSD
as I still steer clear of that place to day,
and even though it takes a longer time to get
to my destination, I still choose the longer trip, as
I can never shake off the feeling that some of
those men are still out there waiting to get their revenge.
Speaker 2: As a chief magazine editor, I am always working extra
hours in my office. I enjoy my work and hardly
ever complain about work pressure. However, this also means I
barely get time to cook lunch or dinner. There is
mc donald's a few blocks ahead of my office. I
usually visited it at least four to five times a week.
I mean, who doesn't love a cheesy burger on a
week day. But I've always had this odd feeling of
being watched since the moment I stepped in until today,
it's not stopped. So it all started three years ago.
When I took up this position. I knew it was
going to be a demanding roll, but it promised the
professional exposure I wished for. I still remember the first
time I walked through the double doors of the mc donald's.
The distinct smell of freshly brewed coffee, cheese, burgers, and
a set of eyes followed me throughout the room. I
ordered my food and sat at the last table beside
the window, looking at the hustle and bustle of the
street while I enjoyed my snack. Some time later, I
was sipping my coat when the hair on the nape
of my neck rose and I felt the weird stare again.
From the moment I entered the McDonald's, I felt as
if someone was keeping a watch on me. For the
first time. I scanned the store and spotted an old,
creepy looking man sitting on a table near the fire exit.
He was not eating anything, just sitting at the table
and staring at me. He never blinked, just stared straight
at me. His eyes were red and had dark bags
under them. It looked as if he had not slept
in daze or had a hangover. However, nothing seemed to
face him. He just kept looking at me, following my
every move. I was a bit spooked, but tried to
ignore the whole ordeal. With the man. Soon I finished
and walked up to the exit. He followed me with
his eyes and gave me a creepy smile as I
stepped out of the door. A few days later, when
I went there again, I was immediately greeted with his
creepy stare. No doubt, the man was sitting at the
same table, scanning me with his eyes and keeping an
eye over my every action. I ignored it, ate my food
and left quickly. Just as last time, he smiled at me,
displaying his rotten, crooked teeth, but this time he waved
at me spooped. I moved out as quickly as I could,
and sped walked to my office just in case he followed,
but he never did. Later that week, when I went
to gravel Bite again, the man was sitting at his
usual table, staring at me and smiling. I knew this
was odd, so I approached the girl at the counter
and pointed to the man and asked about him. To
my utter surprise, the girl looked at me funny and
said in a very plain tone that the table was
empty and no man was sitting there. I was certainly
very shocked, but kept my cool and described the man.
I asked her if a person with a similar appearance
had visited the store. Ever, the girl said no and
took my order. The worst part was while I was
conversing with the girl, the man was sitting at the
table and smiling his creepy smile at me. It felt
as if he was amused by my panic. I was
stressed and scared. It was confusing. Only I could see
the man and the girl on the counter. Coultn't. I
blamed it on stress and the lack of sleep. I
collected my order and decided to eat it in my cabin.
When I stepped out of the door with my purse
and food in hand, the man smiled, waved, and winked
at me every time I walk out. I felt like
he did something more. It scared me, and I decided
not to visit the place for a while. A few
weeks passed and the incident at McDonald's had totally flown
out of my mind. It was late, around nine in
the evening and I was driving my car out of
my parking lot when I spot the same man standing
across the street. At that moment, all I could think
about was getting the hell out of that deserted parking lot.
The man stood there and looked at me with a
creepy expression. A ton of questions ran across my mind,
but I had no time to find the answers to
any of them. My whole body was in flight mode
as I drove past him straight home. Once I was
settled in, my mind was going round and round about
all the possibilities. Had he followed me to my office?
Did he know any of my personal information? Why was
he following me? Did he know where I lived? And
more importantly, why was I the only one able to
see him? It was all so scary. I again thought
this was a side effect of my busy schedule and
stress lifestyle. Before I saw a doctor, I decided to
take a few days off to relax and calm my mind.
Over the next few days, I spent my time cooking, reading,
going to the park for walks, and relaxing. Not once
did I spot the man on my week off, and
I was convinced that I was seeing things due to stress. However,
it all changed the night before the day I was
supposed to get back to work. I was sipping tea
on my balcony when on the sidewalk right in front
of my home stood the creepy man from McDonald's. I
was shocked, walked, and scared to death. The teacups slipped
out from my hands and I ran inside, shutting all
the windows and blinds. I turned off all the lights
and decided to peek out to check if he was
still there. When I looked out, the sidewalk was empty.
There was no sign of the man. The next day,
I decided to visit the McDonald's again to confront the
man myself, as I was certain he would be there.
When I entered the place, his usual table was empty
and the manager of the store was standing at the counter.
I approached him and narrated the incident. After hearing my story,
the man revealed a shocking truth that cracked the floor
beneath my feet. Mister Dudley, the manager, told me what
had happened in the McDonalds a few years ago. He sad.
Speaker 1: When this place was newly opened, we had a few
factory workers visit us regularly for lunch. The man you
described was one of them. One afternoon, during the lunch rush,
we had three masked men come in and rob this place.
The workers tried to unarm the masked robbers, But by
the time the cops were called, one of the robbers
had shot this man and he died on the spot.
It was a hit and run case. The masked men
were never found, the worker never got his justice. Many
customers before you had claimed to see the man smile
and follow them around.
Speaker 2: I had no idea what to say to him. What
should I do, mister Dudley, for the man to stop
following me?
Speaker 1: Honestly, I don't know what you should do. The people
who had claimed to see the man never visited here again,
so I know nothing of this matter or what happened
to them.
Speaker 2: The spirit of a dead worker was following me. It
seemed to get one step closer every time I saw it.
What do you guys think I should do? Why did
the spirit choose to follow me? What must have happened
to the people before me? And most importantly, how will
this end? Is it still follows me? I sometimes see
it in the lobby of my office, in the park
below my window, and many other such places. What should
I do to make it stop?
Speaker 1: When I was thirty three, I was the sheriff of
this small town. Being a sheriff of a small town
comes with a lot of late night ships, always being
on high alert, taking care of the old folk in town,
and hardly any personal life. That's why when I was
single at thirty three, it was hard, as it is,
to date, let alone have a stable relationship. So when
I walked into our town's only mc donald's that night
to grab a quick bite, it was no surprise that
I was dumb struck looking at the beautiful woman standing
behind the cash counter. Stacy Harris was a stunning woman
with blond hair, blue eyes, a slim figure, and cutees.
We hit it off instantly, and soon she was my girlfriend.
It didn't hurt that, like me, she too had a
late night shift at the McDonald's and had her mornings off.
It was common for me to stop by every other
night to eat a snack and check on her. As
she was new in town, recently divorced, and trying to
get a fresh start. I was more than willing to
give her just that. The first incident happened on one
of those nights when I was swamped with work and
couldn't visit Stacy at McDonald's. I clearly remember her hysteric
crying voice on the phone when she called me to
come get her. The moment I reached the place, it
was completely trashed. The tables were turned over, the ketchup
and dips were all over the place, and my girlfriend
was crouched behind the counter crying. Back in the day,
CCTV cameras weren't that common, and as it was a weekday,
there was no one at the McDonald's except her, so
no one witnessed the man in the hoodie who had
barged into the place, trashed it and threatened to kill her.
It was also unusual that, as a first respondent, even
I didn't know what to make of it. Our town
was a pretty quiet one with hardly any issues, so
for someone to trash a fast food restaurant and threaten
a woman was strange. Nevertheless, as a sheriff and a
responsible and loving boyfriend, I comforted Stacy and took her
home while asking my backup to take over the situation.
The second incident wasn't a trashed restaurant, but a phone
call to Stacy's home. Some guy with a deep, raspy
voice had called her and threatened to kill her. These
calls and threats just got more and more frequent. Sometimes
there was a dead cat on her porch or a
dead bird. Once the stalker went as far as to
break into her house while she was away and trashed
her bedroom. No wonder all these incidents drove her crazy.
Soon our relationship was facing the backlash of the constant stalking,
threats and dead animals. Stacy was so scared to get
out of the house or to work. Our late night
meet ups at the McDonald's had stopped. I was so
worried and stressed for her. All the time. Being the
sheriff of the town, me and my team were investigating
this case with great effort. Surprisingly, the incidents, meaning the
phone calls, the dead animals, the break ins only happened
when Stacy was alone or when there was no one
at her home. I had my cops patrol around her
home several times day and night. I stayed at her
place whenever I could, but everything seemed normal when I
was around or when my men patrolled the place. This
got me thinking that maybe someone who was very close
to Stacy, or from within the police department, was behind
the stalking. Being the sheriff of the town, it was
shameful that I couldn't protect my own girlfriend. My first
suspect was her ex husband. When Dan was brought in
for interrogation, turns out he too had received a couple
of calls from the same stalker. This was very absurd.
Our investigation was hitting dead end after dead end. Nothing
led to anything. There were no clues. Whenever we tried
to investigate the home invasions, we never found a single
clue showing the presence of the stalker inside the home.
This so called stalker was either very good at it,
or maybe we're all being misled and the truth lay
right under our noses. My tipping point was when I
was staying the night with Stacy and I woke up
to a burning basement. I ran upstairs to find my
girlfriend knocked down on the bed and a broken vase
lay right next to her on the floor. Someone had
forcibly entered the house while I was asleep on the
living room couch, had managed to knock my girlfriend unconscious
and loot the basement of flame without waking me up.
I called the fire department and carried Stacy out of
the house. After the fire, Stacy and I officially broke up.
It was sad to lose such an amazing woman, but
the damage done by the fire had killed the remaining
hope and spark inside Stacy. She was severely depressed and
unable to have a relationship with any one, not even herself.
She was soon admitted to the psychiatric ward and taken
care of there. I visited her a couple of times,
but I couldn't watch the woman I loved diminish in
front of my eyes. We kept on looking for the stalker,
but found nothing. After a few months of being in
the care, she was released and better than before. As
soon as she returned to her house, the stalking continued
and drove her insane all over again. But it all
ended on a fateful night when she was kidnapped from
the parking lot of a local mall and her dead
body was found next to an abandoned home near the creek.
It devastated me. The case was officially closed, and the
dead body had no DNA or clues on who killed her. Apparently,
according to the autopsy, she had overdosed on drugs, but
Stacy did not do drugs at all, and I knew
that for sure. Still brings me the tears thinking about
her death and how she might have struggled. The death
of Stacy Harris somehow made it to national TV, and
all the theory, speculations and information about it was broadcasted
to the world to see. The FBI stepped in next
and tried to investigate the case. Anew I had almost
lost hope when the FBI agents revealed the shocking truth
behind Stacy Harris's murder, which shook the whole town and
the nation, and most of all me. The facts that
no one had seen the stalker, heard the phone calls,
or that there was no DNA of any sort of
evidence of a stalker were proved that there was no stalker.
Stacy Harris did everything to herself as she was a
patient of a rare mental disorder called d I D
Disassociative identity disorder. Her stalker or the man in the
black hoodie was none other than Stacy herself, or should
I say, her alter ego. She was the one who
kidnapped and killed herself. The fact that such a wonderful
and loving woman was going through something like this was sad,
but even more heartbreaking was the fact that me, being
her lover, failed to see it.
Speaker 2: Gwinn and Adam Smith were considered to be a part
of the elite of our town for more than a decade.
Their success story was an inspiration to every kid in
our town. Both of them were extremely successful, Gwynn a
lawyer and Adam a surgeon. Both of them were extremely
busy with their work and lived on the far side
of town on top of the Lone Hill in a
big mansion. They hardly had time for their twin kids,
Lucy and Lincoln. This is where I come into the picture.
I'm Susan and I used to babysit Lucy and Lincoln
on most nights a week. I picked them up for
school in the afternoon, made sure they did their homework,
cooked dinner for them, and put them to bed. I
was more of a nanny to both the kids rather
than being a mere babysitter. The pay didn't hurt one bit,
and most of the times the kids were well behaved.
It wasn't much work. Plus their parents did not mind
if I used their internet or watch TV while the
kids napped. This job was helping me pay my mother's
medical bills and keeping our family afloat. It was a
win win for all. Until it wasn't. Everything went downhill.
After that one phone call on that fateful stormy night.
There is something you guys should know. I never used
to babysit the kids on a weekend, as it was
a time they spent with their parents. Bonding and catching
up is what Missus Smith described it as. It never
really bothered me, as I got the weekends off to
spend with my family and drive my mom to the
doctor's that night. It was around eight thirty when me
and my mom and my brother returned from one of
my mother's routine checkups. She has stage two cancer, so
hospital visits are as often for our family as visiting
the grocery store. It was a Saturday and my phone
started ringing. I initially thought it was one of my
friends wanting to catch up in the local bar, but
instead my screen displayed Missus Smith's name. I was a
bit confused. Has she never texted or called on a
weekend unless it was an emergency. I picked up the
call and asked, Hello, Missus Smith, what's the matter? Hi, Susan.
Sorry to bother you, but could you look after the
kids tonight? I and Adam have to go to a
dinner party. It was very unusual as the couple was
almost adamant about spending time with her kids on the weekend. Sure,
missus Smith, I'll be there in an hour. Let me
settle my mom in and I'll head over. Sure things, Susan,
We are waiting for you, Missus Smith, or should I
say Gwyn and hung up, and I went back to
taking care of my mom. By the time I left
my home, Mom had slept and my brother was watching TV.
On the drive to their mansion, the road was unusually foggy,
as if preventing me from reaching their house. I wish
I would have returned to mine, but the thought of
piling up bills in my mom's deteriorating condition kept me
on the road. In about forty minutes, I was there
in their driveway, parking my beat up car. Gwyn and
Adam were in their driveway too, getting into their brand
new SUV. Hey there, mister and missus Smith, I greeted
the couple, Hey, Susan. Gwynn greeted me back, and Adam
just nodded at me. The twins are asleep. It's already
past their bedtime. I and Adam will return late tonight.
Just keep them company, don't let them have a midnight
snack and just text me if you need anything, Gwynn
instructed me before leaving and got into the passenger seat
beside her husband. It was a little weird that their
driver was missing. I didn't think much of it back then.
Maybe it was a last minute plan and the driver
couldn't make it. As I did. Before their car rolled
out the front gate, gwyn yelled and let me know
she saved a piece of chocolate cake for me and
that it was on the counter. Yeah, fancy desserts were
a common thing too. I loved this job. Once I
entered the mansion, it was dark inside. Usually the couple
left a few lights on at all times to keep
the house illuminated. I switched on a few lights in
the drawing room, grabbed a piece of chocolate cake, and
sat on the couch watching TV For the first hour.
I was so engrossed in the TV and the dessert
that I did not notice that the house was too quiet,
as if I was the only one there. The kids
slept through the night on most days, but sometime either
of them would wake up for a midnight snack or
have a bad dream. It was common for me to
put them back to bed and maybe read a bedtime
story too. I thought it must be one of those
days when the twins slept through the entire night. Still,
my instinct told me something was wrong. I waited for
half an hour more and then headed upstairs to the
kid's room. Lucy and Lincoln had separate bedrooms on either
side of the hallway, and then at the end of
the hallway was the master bedroom, where their parents slept.
When I opened Lucy's bedroom, I wasn't much worried when
I found it empty. The girl often slept in her
brother's room if she was scared or had a bad dream.
But the side I saw when I opened Lincoln's bedroom
door is etched into my memory forever. Both the kids
were hanged by a noose from the ceiling fan. Their
eyes were still open, as if they were very much alive.
I tried to free them, but when I touched Lucy's body,
she was cold and stiff, as if she had passed
away hours ago. I knew Lincoln was no different. I
screamed and stumbled out of the room. I ran toward
the master bedroom to fetch the emergency phone Gwynn left
in there, But when I opened the master bedroom door.
I knew I was in deep, deep trouble. Both mister
and Missus Smith were hanging by the ceiling fan, the
exact same way their kids were hanging just down the hall.
I was terrified and screaming and running back downstairs. I
didn't know what to do. I could still fill their
open eyes on me as I called nine one one.
When the cops got there, I was sitting in the driveway,
weeping and hysteric. I did not know what was going on.
The police did their investigation and questioned me. I told
them all that had happened, and also mentioned the fact
that I had spoken to Gwyn and Adam as they
left the mansion. I did not understand how they were
hanging inside their own bedroom when they left, in front
of my own eyes. Naturally penned as the prime suspect
for the murder of a family of four. Right now,
I'm narrating this story to you from a prison cell
where I have been locked for the past six years.
They say I killed the Smith family, but I swear
I didn't do it. I would never harm the kids
nor their parents. They say I'm insane and have mental disorders.
How is that? Possible. I'm totally fine. Can't they see
I'm being framed for murder. I told them I met
the couple before they went out for the dinner party,
but the investigators say that I didn't meet the couple
in the driveway. I clearly remember meeting them, though I
asked them to check the CCTV footage, But the footage
they showed me has me standing in the driveway alone,
no side of mister or missus Smith. They say I
forced the family to hang themselves. Why would I do that?
They were paying my bills by giving me employment. Why
would anyone want to lose such a job. I firmly
believe that I'm being framed, but all the evidence is
against me. The CCTV had recorded me arriving in the mansion,
but I clearly remember talking to gwyn I remember eating
the last piece of chocolate cake. How would I know
that there was a single slice of chocolate cake if
Gwynn hadn't mentioned it. Why is anyone not believing me?
I couldn't even attend my mother's funeral as the doctors
and the cops think I'm too dangerous for the world.
They think I can hurt people. How is that possible.
I was just a girl who was trying to provide
for her family and take care of her mom. Why
does no one see that I'm being framed. I don't
know what's going on anymore. I'm so confused and lost.
All I know is that I didn't do it. What
do you think is the truth? Am I innocent? Who
did I see in the driveway if the couple was
already dead? And more importantly, who called me pretending to
be missus Smith? I swear I didn't do it.
Speaker 4: Hi, I'm David And Many years ago, one of my
high school friends, Jack opened a new Papa John store
in our hometown. The news of his opening the pizza
place was a delight to all, as he always wanted
to own a fast food joint. Jack and his wife,
Alice had collected money and worked very hard to open
the shop, and to everyone's utter delight, they had welcomed
their first child, a daughter named Sharon, a few weeks
before the grand opening. Things had really started to work
for Jack and his small family. As we all his
friends were very proud of our buddy. We decided to
arrange a small get together at his pizza place itself.
The date was set around Thanksgiving week, when most of
us would visit our hometown for that Thanksgiving dinner. So
on the twenty third of November, we all had planned
to gather at Papa John's to celebrate with Jack and
his family. The only catch to this gathering was everyone
had to be dressed in the Papa John's uniform to
show our support. On the day of the gathering, the
place was overcrowded with people. Even though the pizza place
was closed to customers, it was making just as many
pizzas for all the friends gathered. Jack and Alice had
rented a two story place where they had their pizza
shop below in their home above it. The entrance to
the upper floor was from the kitchen of the pizza shop.
This is how the couple kept an eye on their newborn.
As the gathering proceeded, a lot of people gathered at
the pizza place. Many of us had our spouse or
other family members tagging along. Alice had invited some of
her friends to All of us were in the uniform
and it was a bit tough to recognize people, especially
the people we hadn't seen in a while. Everyone was
busy enjoying the pizza and drinks when I distinctly remember
a woman, perhaps in her late thirties, approached the shop.
She had followed the designated dress code. Alice had spotted
this woman too and welcomed her inside, thinking she must
be one of her husband's guests, but I couldn't remember
this woman from our high school. As the gathering went on,
everyone was getting pretty intoxicated. By the end, I was
helping one of my friends get into a car when
I and a few remaining guests heard an ear piercing
scream from Alice. She was screaming from her daughter's room.
We all ran up to find Alice crying near her
daughter's crib, which was empty except for a shoe that
lie upside down in the daughter's bedding. Being only a
few weeks old, the infant couldn't climb out of the
crib by herself and wander around the house, let alone outside.
Alice had brought her downstairs at the beginning of the
gathering to introduce us to the little girl. To the
rest of the gathering, little Sharon slept peacefully while we
all had a good time downstairs. After the initial panic,
everyone began to look in and around the house for
the infant. However, I had a feeling that Sharon did
not wander off. She was taken away, possibly abducted. When
I approached Jack, he was holding his wife, who still
hadn't stopped crying. I tried to calm her down and
asked her about the woman who had walked into the party. Instantly,
Alice knew who I was talking about. Jack, I and Bill,
one of our friends, checked the CCTV footage to find
the woman. We immediately saw her entering the pizza place
around nine pm, and after grabbing a few slices of pizza,
she snuck upstairs to Sharon's room. The footage did have
her face, which was enough to report her. Jack said
she must have left through the back exit, which is
not covered by any cameras. We instantly called the cops
and reported the woman. We also handed over the footage
to the cops. The copse immediately started the investigation, and
soon the whole town was on the lookout for this
woman and baby Sharon. Even on Thanksgiving, hardly anyone was celebrating. Instead,
everyone was looking for the lost baby. That evening, there
were three more reports of missing infants in the town.
And two of the reports claimed to have seen the
same woman before the abductions, confirming her to be the
culprit of all the missing cases. Along with that, one
common clue left behind by the woman was a single
shoe of the abducted babies in their cribs. The investigation
went on for months. I and some of my friends
stayed in town for a couple of weeks to extend
our support and to take part in the search parties.
But other than the shoe, nothing was ever found of
the missing infants. After a year of investigation, the police
could find no leeds on the case and were eventually
forced to close it. The woman was never seen in
town before for these abductions and was never spotted again.
There were many stories and theories about the abductions spreading
in the town by the local people. Some said that
she was a spirit, while some claimed she was a
part of a cult, and others believed that she was
a human trafficker who stole young kids and sold them.
But I believed none of them. It was as if
Jack and Alice had lost their will to live. They
closed their Papa John's mere months after the abduction, and
two years later they moved out of the town to
start anew Every time I enter a Papa John's pizza place,
I remember Alice's ear piercing scream and the despair in
her eyes. It was the worst tragedy our small town
had ever faced. Nothing of that sort ever happened again,
but it stayed with all the people.
Speaker 1: Now.
Speaker 4: Fifteen years later, there was a mall being built a
few miles away from my hometown, and to lay its foundation,
the land was being dug. The things that the construction
team found on the site shook the entire town, and
the fifteen year old mystery was finally solved. The skeletons
of four infants were found wrapped in a black cloth,
buried six feet under the ground. This news was made
public and the families of the lost kids, who would
have been around fifteen years old now, were gathered to
see their kids for the last time. It was heartbreaking
to know that the infants were killed, but the motive
behind the killing and the whereabouts of the lady is
still unknown.
Speaker 1: As soon as I woke up, I knew there was
something off about that day. It was a regular Thursday,
nothing special about it, really, but you know, sometimes we
have a gut feeling about days like these, when we
know something bad is going to happen ahead. It was
one of those days. I tried to ignore the nod
in my stomach and continued my daily tasks. Once I
sat in my business communication class, phone beat, which meant
either someone was calling or texting me. I have a
strict policy to not operate my cell phone in the
classroom and to pay the utmost attention to my lectures. However,
when my phone beat for the second and then third time,
the knot in my stomach intensified, and my intuition told
me to take a look. As soon as I saw
the text sent to me by missus Harris, I bolted
out of the classroom with my stuff and ran towards
my car with shaky fingers. I started my car and
began the long drive home. I was worried and scared.
Worried because I wanted her to live, and scared because
I was terrified of losing her. So I drove past
the outskirts of the city toward my hometown. I knew
it was getting late, it was starting to get dark outside,
and soon I would be driving across a deserted highway
in pitch darkness, but I was determined to get back
to her on time. As a university student, I usually
had early mon in classes, so I avoided driving at night,
So it was okay to say that I had a
limited experience with driving at night. To ease my nerves,
I switched on the radio and began to hear the
weather forecast. Soon I was two hours into my journey
and I knew I was very close to the highway.
I calmed myself down and focused on driving at a
steady pace. Now you must be thinking, why is a
college student who is clearly an adult so scared of
driving at night on a damn highway? To know that?
You must keep listening to my story. So by this
time I had driven a few miles away from the
start of this highway, and I remembered that it had
been particularly sunny that day. That's why there was no
chance of a storm or any accidents caused by a storm.
Then why was there a fallen tree in the middle
of the highway. While I looked at the tree about
three hundred meters away from my car, I had unconsciously
slowed down a bit. That's when I saw the first
person appear about two hundred meters away from my car.
Then there were three more, whom I spotted in the
rear view mirror. For a second, I was baffled as
to what to do. I knew what was going to
happen to me if I didn't act fast. Their trick
had worked, and I had already slowed my car enough
for the people to approach me. Every second I wasted
thinking about the right move was used by the people
to advance on my car. Soon the highway was full
of people, and the only way to escape and go
home alive in one piece to see her was by
driving straight ahead. I know my car was hardly capable
of running over a fallen tree, but I had to
take the chance. After all, I was a broke college
student who couldn't afford anything better than a beaten up
Honda Civic. As soon as I put my foot on
the gas, the first stone collided with the back door
of my car. I thought it would leave a debt.
The first stone was followed by another, and then more.
One of the guys managed to aim at my passenger
side window. It broke and the glass shattered on the
passenger seat. I paid no attention to it and sped
the car, ramming it over the fallen tree. It hit
the base of my car and a loud thud could
be heard. The people were now furious that I was
trying to escape. The mobs started chasing me on foot,
throwing stones, metal pipes, pieces of wood, and even rotten
food at my car. I didn't even look back. I
just kept driving until I reached my home town. As
soon as I parked my car in front of my house,
I ran upstairs towards my grandma, who was fast asleep.
Missus Harris sat beside her bed reading a book. How
is she? I drove here as soon as I got
your text, I asked, Missus Harris. She is fine. It
was just to fall in the garden. She heard her
hip pretty bad, but luckily I saw her and took
her to the hospital. She replied, hey, justin Why are
there pieces of glass on your sweater? Missus Harris inquired,
Missus Harris, I drove on the highway. It was them,
I told her. She immediately understood what I meant. Thank
god nothing happened to you. Did you report the incident?
She asked me again. I did, Missus Harris, I do
not see the use of it. I was tired and
worried to death about my grandma. Missus Harris, our neighbor,
had texted me during my lecture that my grandma had
fallen in the garden and she was being rushed to
the hospital. You see, I do not have parents, as
they both died when I was too young. My grandma
raised me and looked after me, and now it was
my turn. As I went to my room after making
sure that my grandma was fine, the whole highway incident
flashed in front of my eyes. The men who attacked
me were called the faceless People and were famous in
our state for attacking vehicles traveling on that highway at night.
They were called faceless people not because they had no face,
but because no one could ever make out what they
looked like, and no one knew anything about them. It
was as if they were off the grid and lived
in their own day and time, and somehow appeared on
the highway at night. There were at least five to
seven reports of the faceless people attacking vehicles on that
highway every week, but the cops were unable to catch anyone.
These people destroyed the vehicle by throwing things at it.
They dragged the people in the vehicle out, looted, and
then finally killed them. I knew I was lucky, as
I was one of the few people who escaped the
torture of the faceless people unharmed. But due to the
lack of evidence, these people still roamed the streets unpunished.
That's when I remembered that perhaps this incident was recorded
on my dash camp. Maybe I was the first person
to capture the faceless people on camera. This could be
a huge leap in the investigation. I ran to my
car and retrieved the recording, and there it was. Everything
was recorded clearly. Although my car was damaged, the dash
camp somehow remained unscathed. I borrowed Missus Harris's car and
drove to the police station with the footage. The cops
thanked me and I returned home. The next day. When
I woke up, the town sheriff was having a cup
of tea with my grandma downstairs. She seemed much better
than yesterday. What brings you here, Sheriff? I asked, You
have no idea what you have done? Justin the sheriff said,
with a broad smile on his face. The dash cam
footage you gave us last night helped us identify a
few people from the Faceless gang. We captured those people
and soon extracted all the information about their operations. Most
of these people are behind bars because of you and
will be soon put to trial. You have no idea
what you have done. Boy saying this, he thanked my
grandma for the tea and left. The news had covered
the incident, and my face was all over the TV.
Turns out the Faceless people were a bunch of dry
so it escaped the nearby rehabilitation center and were hiding
in the abandoned factory in the woods during the day.
That's why no one could find them. I still can't
imagine what would have happened if I hadn't driven fast enough.
What do you think would I still be alive to
tell this story today.
Speaker 2: I used to work in the circus when I was
a kid, and while many people believe this may have
been the dream job of a twelve year old girl,
what happened behind the scenes is something I'd never forget.
My name is Arena Orlov. I'm Russian and before me
and my family moved to the US, we used to
live in Russia. I lived there for thirteen years of
my life. To be exact, I loved every second of
it because before I was nine years old, I already
knew how to fly. My grandparents were trappees artists, so
were my parents, and I remember when I turned eight
my father said.
Speaker 1: To me, do you want to fly?
Speaker 2: And with a huge smile on my face, I said yes.
My dad taught me everything there was to know about
being a trapeze artist, and before I was nine, I
was swinging through the air. At the time, we worked
for a popular circus called Volkov's Show. I basically grew
up at the circus, and I considered everyone there to
be my family, from the jugglers to the magicians, the
animal trainers, the strong men, the typewrote walkers, basically each
and every one of them. We talked together, ate together,
and lived together. I didn't have any siblings, and neither
did I have aunts or uncles, so it always felt
like they were my huge extended family. And while all
this was great, not everyone was close with each other.
Our ring master, mister Volkov, didn't really associate with us,
as he always had this superior aura and rude demeanor.
Cared about was the number of people who showed up
to the shows and the amount of money he made.
I didn't like him very much, as something seemed off
about him, but things were still pretty fine because, as
I said earlier, he really didn't talk to or associate
with any of us. Well, with the exception of the clowns,
our circus had so many amazing acts, as we had
an animal trainer who handled lions and elephants, an incredible
typewrote walker who performed his act with no safety net,
and my family spectacular trapeze routine. But deep down we
all knew that the main attractions were the clowns. Now,
our clowns weren't gestured day to day normal clowns, as
the act they performed seemed humanly impossible. I can remember
the first time I saw them perform. Their act always
started out with a really small wooden car, and I
would watch these two clowns bend their bones to levels
that didn't seem human. They would start by bending their
faces all the way into their ribs while wrapping their
arms around themselves. They would then proceed to hop into
the extremely small wooden car, a car that wasn't physically
capable of fitting two grown men. I didn't know how
they always did it, but they always managed to repeat
and deliver the same jaw dropping performance every night that
we had a show. I remember as a kid, I
thought their arms were prosthetics because of how they dangled
beside their bodies. They always looked like they weren't fully
attached to their shoulders, But being backstage with them, I
knew this wasn't the case, as they still used their
hands to do other things, so it was clear that
their arms were real. Due to the mind blowing ways
these clowns folded their bodies and bent in ways that
weren't human. They were constantly the stars of the show,
and while they were magnificent while performing, it was a
totally different thing when the show was over. Clowns didn't
really associate with the rest of us, as they always
stigmatized themselves. They never spoke to anyone, not even to
each other, and the only person they spoke to was
mister Volkov, as he always called them into his office
an hour before the show. Living with them for some
time made me realize that they always looked sad, sick
and dead inside, which was weird. As they were meant
to be clowns. Their behavior wasn't the only weird thing
about them, as something even weirder always happened. Remember when
I said earlier that the people at the circus were
like my family. One of the reasons for that was
because I grew up around them. Most of them had
always been at the circus and were hardly replaced. Galina,
the typewrope walker, had been with us since I was five,
and so were our jugglers and our animal handlers. But
it was a totally different story when it came to
the clowns, as they were always replaced on a monthly basis.
I had known like twelve clowns since I had been
at the circus. No one knew what happened to the
other clowns or where they went. Normally, most of our
clowns only performed for three or four shows before completely disappearing.
So many clowns had come and gone that I couldn't
remember most of their names, but the ones who were
currently working with us were called Dmitri and Entree. Now
our circus performed every two weeks on the Saturday of
the second week, to be exact, and I remember the
last week leading up to our upcoming performance, my dad
was talking about how he'd found a job in the
US and how we were making plans to move. I
was really sad about leaving the circus, so I decided
to make my final performance spectacular, and after weeks of prepping,
the day had finally come. The lights and tints were set,
and we had a huge audience. I was ready to
give it my all that night, but fifteen minutes before
our performance began, my dad said to.
Speaker 1: Me me, laid Nadya, we are missing a hoop. I'll
need you to run to the storage trailer and get it.
Speaker 2: I really didn't like going to the storage trailer because
it smelt really bad and rancid in there, but it
was our last performance, so I gladly agreed, saying sure, Dad,
before running to the storage trailer to get an extra hoop.
On my way to the storage trailer, I saw our clowns,
Dmitri and Andre walking to mister Volkov's office. As a kid,
my mind began to wonder what they always spoke about
before every show, but I knew I had to get
the hoop, so I shook off the thoughts and continued
to the storage trailer. After some minutes, I finally got there,
and somehow the rents that smell had become even worse.
I didn't want to stay there long, so I quickly
grabbed the hoop and left. On my way back, I
saw the door to mister Volkov's office was slightly open
and no one was around as they were all about
to perform. I don't know why I did this. I'm
guessing it was just my inquisitive childhood nature, but I
went to the door and peeked in because I really
wanted to know what they always did before the show,
and what I saw scarred me for life. Both Dmitri
and Andrei were tied to long poles. They were gagged and
two long ropes were tied to each of their wrists.
Only their torsos were tied to the pole, as both
their arms were free. Then I saw mister Volkov walk
up to Dmitri. He picked up the rope that was
tied to Dmitri's wrist and.
Speaker 1: Said, no bitching about this time. Our audience is huge,
so suck it.
Speaker 2: Up, and with that he began to pull Dmitri's arm
with all his might. I could hear Dmitri's muffled screams
as mister Volkov pulled his arm like he wanted to
tear it off his body. And after a while of
the extreme pulling, I heard a loud pop sound as
I saw Dmitri's arm get pulled out of its socket.
His left arm was now dangling like a noodle and
with no hesitation. Mister Volkov then proceeded to do the
same thing to his right arm, and this time it
didn't take long before Dmitri's right arm was also pulled
out of its socket. When he was done with Dmitri,
mister Volkov proceeded to do the exact same thing to Andrea.
While he was pulling at Andre's arms, I noticed that
Andrea wasn't screaming. It was as if he had become
accustomed to the pain, and just like the first time,
after a while, I heard the same pop sound I
heard when Dmitri's arms were pulled out of their sockets,
and as I looked at Andre's arms, I realized that
they too were dangling like noodles. When he was done,
he then tied them and ushered them to a table.
They laid on their backs with their gag still on
as mister Volkov went to get a hammer and chisel.
He placed the end of the chisel on the base
of Dmitri's and with no hesitation, he brought the hammer
down on the chisel. I heard a horrific cracking noise,
and I instantly knew that one of his ribs was broken.
Dmitri began to writhe in pain as mister Volkov held
him down, saying.
Speaker 1: Don't move or you'll puncture your lungs. I said, no
bitching above these night I just have to break. Dream more,
Just dream more, so you'll be able to fit like
a glove in that little wooden car.
Speaker 2: I watched him break Dmitri's and Andre's ribs. I didn't scream.
I just watched him as he put those men in
excruciating pain. When they were done, I was too scared
to move as my traumatized brain couldn't handle the morbid
scene I had just witnessed. They began to walk to
the door, and I still couldn't run or move as
the overwhelming fear had transfixed me. But I knew if
I didn't do something soon, they would open the door
and see me there. But no matter how hard I tried,
my body just didn't obey me. Luckily, a few seconds
before they opened the door, my father's voice pulled me
back to my senses as he.
Speaker 1: Shouted, Arena, where are you? This show is about to start.
Speaker 2: Once I heard his voice, I ran to him, and
when I finally reached him, I couldn't take it any
more as I immediately started crying. My dad then asked,
what is it's, sweetheart, and as I was about to speak,
I heard mister Volkov's.
Speaker 1: Voice gather around people, this show is about to start.
Speaker 2: Scared, I quickly closed my mouth as I watched mister
Volkoff walk up to me and my dad, with Dmitri
and Andre right behind him. He took one look at
me and.
Speaker 1: Said, what's wrong with your bride? My father then replied,
she's probably just said that this is our last performance
at the second, sir.
Speaker 2: He sneered at me before quickly retorting with.
Speaker 1: Then do the act without her. We can't have a
going out like that. It's not like anyone's coming to
see her. It's my prized clowns. They're all coming to see.
This is why I hate.
Speaker 2: Children, And with that he stormed off. When he was gone.
My dad hugged me and said.
Speaker 1: He's okay, Irena, just enjoyed the show.
Speaker 2: He then sat me on a backstage chair before leaving
to go meet my mother. The show was great, but
I cried through it all. And after everyone was done,
it was time for the clown's grand performance. As they
began to wow the crowd with their bone bending and
body folding feet, I felt sick to my stomach because
I knew how they were able to do all these things,
and the magic that once surrounded these performances was gone.
After they had successfully gotten in and out of the
small wooden car, the crowd gave them a standing ovation,
and right there in the middle of all those people,
Andrea dropped dead on the stage. I remember letting out
a loud scream as I was completely petrified. It took
a while for the audience to realize what was going on,
and as soon as they did, a huge panic broke out.
It didn't take long before the cops showed up, and
with one look at Andrea, they realized that this man
didn't die of natural causes. They called each and every
one of us who were his co performers for questioning,
and when they started questioning us. Mister Volkov was right
there trying to remove any suspicion, as I remember him
shouting things like.
Speaker 1: No one did anything, that man died of natural causes.
Piece is an abusive power.
Speaker 2: When they eventually called my parents in for questioning, I
was there by their side, I couldn't help myself and
I started sobbing. The policeman, who noticed this, then asked.
Speaker 1: Is everything go right with your daughter?
Speaker 2: My parents, who didn't know I was crying, then turned
to me and saw tears rolling down my cheeks. They
asked me if everything was all right, and I shook
my head while saying no. My parents then said.
Speaker 1: If there is anything you know, Arena, you can't tell us.
We are here to support you.
Speaker 2: At that moment, I looked to my far left and
saw Dmitri standing in the corner with mister Volkov. He
had the same sad look in his eyes as he
looked back at me, and deep down I knew he
didn't have the courage to tell the truth, so I
decided to do it for him. I told the cops
everything I saw. When I was done, they immediately called
Dmitri and told him his body was going to be
inspected by a doctor. Once they saw proof that everything
I said was true, they began to search our whole circus.
The hammer, the chisel, and the ropes were all found,
but something even more horrifying was discovered that night. Twelve
rotting bodies were found marinating in a crate in the
storage trailer as they were being taking out of the room.
They were all identified as our clowns who had been
mysteriously disappearing over the years. Mister Volkov was immediately arrested,
and as they took him away, I remember him shouting
rushing curses at me.
Speaker 1: He said things like suka pista, she is a liar
and the nun greatful brat.
Speaker 2: He kept on struggling as they took him away, but
when he was finally gone, I broke down in tears again.
My parents started hugging me as they tried to comfort me,
and while they were doing that, Dmitri walked up to
me with a grateful look in his eyes. He then
got on his knees and said one.
Speaker 1: Word spasibah, thank you.
Speaker 2: The weeks that followed were so unraveling. As everything came
to light, it was revealed that mister Volkov hired illegal
immigrants to work as his clowns. Dmitri, who was one
of them, said that he was invited to the circus
under the lure of a good job. He also said
that when mister Volkov finally explained what he wanted him
to do, he said no, but mister Volkov threatened to
report him to the authorities if he didn't agree. He
also went into detail about what was done to him,
as he said the four ribs at the base of
his rib page were constantly broken, as mister Volkov said
this was to allow him to bury his face deep
into his stomach when he folded. He also revealed that
his arms were repeatedly pulled out of their sockets, which
is why they dangled like that. Apparently this is also
done so he could easily wrap them around his body
without restrictions from the joint. And also came out that
mister Volkov was the one who killed all twelve clowns,
as he was responsible for the continuous breaking of their
bones every two weeks before they could heal completely, in
addition to the numerous punctured organs. The case became a
huge scandal and I was really sad that. My time
at the circus ended like that, but by the following
week I was already bidding them goodbye as I was
on my way to the United States. I'm currently thirty
one now, and every time I see a clown, either
at a kid's birthday party or an occasion, I always
walk up to them and give them a hug. They
always get confused when I do this, and when asked,
I always tell them even clowns need people to make
them happy. I would like to think I'm an accomplished woman.
I was able to buy my first home at just
twenty five years old. It's nothing big and fancy, but
it's just me and I lived comfortably in it. Moving
into the suburbs, my parents gave me a housewarming party
and their gift to me was a doorbell dash cam.
Speaker 1: You can't be too careful these days, Thanks.
Speaker 2: Dad, I was wanting one of these. I hugged my
parents and we enjoyed the rest of the party. The
next day, my dad came by to help me install it.
After that, I started working into my new daily routine
now that I lived in the suburbs. I went running
in the mornings instead of hitting the treadmill at my
apartment complex. I loved sprinting in the fresh air every
morning before work. It always woke me up for the
day and gave me a good dose of serotonin. One morning,
I returned home from my run and turned on the
shower when my phone pinged. It was a notification from
my doorbell camera. I picked up my phone and looked
at the live footage. It was seven a m. So
the sun was barely coming up, but a dark shadow
was lurking outside my front door. My porch light was
connected to my Amazon Echo, so I was able to
turn it on from where I was Alexa turn on
the porch light. The porch light turned on, and whoever
was at my door began to run away before I
could make them out. I shrugged, thinking whoever it was
might have been some doorted or salesman. I took my
shower and went to work. The next morning, I got
up to go running a little earlier than usual, so
I took advantage and ran an extra couple of miles
and went down a path that I don't normally go,
but it looked well lit, so I figured it would
be safe. While running on this path, I came across
a mobile home that looked abandoned. Though I couldn't see anyone,
I felt as though the windows of the trailer were
watching me. I decided to go home once I found
the clearing. Despite heading back to the safety of my
usual route, I still felt as though someone was watching me,
and it made me uncomfortable. I got home safely and
locked the door behind me. My phone pinged as I
was getting ready for my shower. I went to look
at the camera footage. What I saw made my stomach drop.
Gazing straight into the camera was a man with eyes
that were unnaturally far apart and a grin bigger than
the chest Shire pat himself. I watched, paralyzed with fear,
as he went to the window in the living room
and busted it open. I snapped out of my paralysis
and made a mad dash for my bathroom and locked
myself inside. I didn't hesitate to call the police.
Speaker 1: Nine one one, What is your emergency?
Speaker 2: There's a man inside my house. I gave them my
address and they arrived within minutes, but the intruder was gone.
I gave my statement and they informed me that all
they could do was keep an eye out for him
and to call them immediately if I see him. I
was freaked out and then able to wipe the image
of that man's face from my mind. I don't know
who he was or what he wanted. Was he the
same man that my porch light chased away? And I
had to go stay at my parents house for a
few days, and my dad helped me replace the window
that was broken. One night, I was having dinner with
my parents and a news report showed up on the television.
His picture from my camera was displayed on the television screen. Suddenly,
someone was knocking on the door. My mom got up
to answer it, and the gunshot sounded before she dropped dad.
My dad stood up and was shot before he could
come between myself and this man. I looked at him.
He had the same expression on his face, those eyes
that were miles apart, looking in different directions, that smile,
that horrific, eerie smile. He said nothing, just tilted his
head to the left, slowly to the right, and took
small steps toward me. My heart began to pound violently
through my chest. The fear I felt inside I was
positive it would kill me. I had heard of dying affright,
and I never thought fear could actually take a person
down until that night. As if he couldn't appear any
more unnatural, his face began to distort, as though it
was melting.
Speaker 1: Are you afraid of me, Jessica? How?
Speaker 2: How do you know my name?
Speaker 1: That's what you're worried about.
Speaker 2: I tried to take a step back, but it's as
though my legs are made of lead. I looked at him,
wanting to ask what he wants, yet I can't speak anymore.
Why did you break into my house? Why did you
look into my camera like that? What do you want
from me? He just keeps getting closer and closer. Suddenly
he starts to growl, like a demon in a horror movie.
His body twitches and writhes as he's brought down to
his hands and knees. He suddenly crossed towards me at
an unnatural speed, and I'm trapped where I stand. I
feel a sharp pain, and then my eyes open. I
woke up in the guest bedroom at my parents house,
drenched in cold sweat. I rushed to my parents room
and found them asleep in their bed. I was only
supposed to stay a couple of days, but it's been
weeks now, I don't know when I'll feel safe again.
I went back to bed and replayed the photos my
camera took. I had submitted them to the police the
night he broke in. I know the logical thing to
do would be to delete the pictures, but the problem
is police haven't found him yet, and even though I
couldn't possibly forget his face, I don't want to forget
what he looks like should he show up again. I
keep them as a reminder to stay out of unknown territory.
It's not confirmed, but something in my gut tells me
that he followed me home that day and was the
pair of eyes I felt watching me from that trailer.
No one knows who he is, but to the police
he's known as Smile.
Speaker 3: Being a bartender is good. You know, you get generous tips.
You have to work at night, which means you get
the full day to yourself.
Speaker 2: It's perfect.
Speaker 3: You can have a job and a life without compromising
one for the other. This is a blessing if you
are a single mom like me. I never really considered
a nine to five, despite qualifying for one. Bartending just
suited me more. But what happened yesterday made me rethink
my decisions altogether. It started as any other normal day.
I woke up and had breakfast with my four year old,
got him ready for preschool, dropped him off, and then
got to the grocery, cleaned our room, cooked lunch and dinner,
and had lunch, did the chores and relaxed a bit,
got my kid back from school, helped them with his homework,
and then around seven pm, dressed to go to work.
I usually drive my car to the bar where I bartend.
It's a big place, so we have reserved parking areas
for the staff. The shift that day was not at
all hectic, as it was a Tuesday, and apart from
a few regulars, there were hardly any new faces around.
I loved my job, but being a single mom in
her early twenties also means a lot of guys hit
on you. I usually ignore them and my current priority
is my kid. But for the past three months or so,
there is this one guy looks like he's in his
late twenties, looks good, probably rich. As he visits the
bar almost regularly. He sits on the corner table were
hardly anyone can see him. But the worst part is
he keeps staring at me. It creeped me out when
I noticed it. At first, I tried ignoring him, but
he didn't stop coming. Day after day he came around
nine in the evening and nursed his drink until we closed.
I tried talking to the manager about it, but since
the guy had never approached me or done anything to me,
the manager couldn't help. Plus, he was a regular, meaning
he was a good asset to the bar. As the
months passed, I just got used to a stare. I
did my shift, cleaned up the bar, and left every
night at around one am. My home was about a
twenty minute drive away from the bar, so having a
car was a must. Although I kept my cool around
this creepy guy, I always had a feeling that he
wanted to do something bad to me, as if he
was waiting for the right moment. Call it my intuition,
six sense, or lady instinct, but I I always looked
over my shoulder whenever I left the bar. The good
thing was I never saw him anywhere other than the bar,
so even though I was careful, I never truly understood
the gravity of my situation. Plus, having a toddler running
around the house gives you no time to worry about
anything else. So that night, after the shift, I was
hurrying back to my car, not really paying attention to
my surroundings. To my surprise, that creepy guy had left
an hour before our closing. Usually he waited till the
manager asked him to leave, but little did I know.
When I reached my car, I got into it and
tried to start it, but it wouldn't. I won't blame
the car, as it was an old model, but luckily
I was prepared for such a situation. I popped the
hood open and got around to check what was wrong.
My tank was full and everything in the engine looked
fine to me, so I tried to restart it, but
it was I didn't start. I walked back to the bar,
hoping to catch someone who hadn't left already, but the
bar was closed, indicating everyone was off to their homes.
I had no choice but to look for a cab.
I started walking towards my home. The roads were deserted,
and once in a while a huge truck or a
car would pass by me. I must have looked stupid
in the waiters uniform, walking home all alone at night,
but all I could think about was a warm shower
in the comfort of my soft bed. My son was
usually fast asleep when I got home, but I still
longed to kiss him good night. While I was walking
on the sidewalk, lost in my thoughts, suddenly a car
slowed down beside me, and the driver hawk twice to
get my attention. My immediate thought was that he must
have thought I'm a prostitute or a drug addict, so
I tried to ignore the man and speed walk towards
my home. I was scared, and I knew my home
was far away from where I was, and this man
could do anything to me if you wanted to. The
guy still drove his car slowly beside me and kept
honking once in a while to get my attention. He
was trying to say something, but I was so focused
on walking that I did not hear a word. Suddenly,
he yelled so loud that I had to stop in
my track and look at him.
Speaker 1: He said, miss, I know this is scary for you,
and I know you don't know me. You must be
thinking that I'm some type of stalker, murderer, or rapist,
but I'm not, I assure you, and you have to
trust me when I say this, you were in danger.
You need to get in my car right now. I
will explain everything when you get in. I'm trying to
help you, hear Miss, Please don't misunderstand me. Just get
in a car. We don't have time.
Speaker 3: Getting into a stranger's car all alone is the worst
possible mistake alone woman can ma. So no way was
I getting into this man's car. I kept walking without
saying a word, but the stubborn man did not give up.
He was practically pleading with me to get in his
car For the next few minutes. He drove beside me
and kept on asking me to get in. I knew
it was unlike me to jump into a stranger's car,
but something in his voice convinced me to call it
sixth sense or lady instinct. As soon as I got
into his car, he locked all the doors and closed
all the windows. This scared me, but he just gave
me one of those nice, genuine smiles that eased me
a bit. I sat there clutching my purse as a
man stared at the car. He looked around frantically as
if someone was following us. When we finally drove a
few yards, He said, hello.
Speaker 1: Miss Hi Mike, and I know you're scared, but he
needs to listen to me. I'm no threat you, and
I mean you no harm. I live in this town
and I work in a restaurant as a chef a
few blocks away from where I saw you. It was
a busy day to day we had an event, so
I left work late. I was driving by when I
saw a man and a clown costume walking on the sidewalk.
He had a long butcher knife in his hand, and
he was walking straight in your direction.
Speaker 3: Listening to him say those words cracked the ground beneath
my feet, Mike continued.
Speaker 1: When I drove past him and saw you down the road,
I knew he was going to harm you. I couldn't
let the crazy looking clown hurt you, so I had
to somehow convince you to get in the car.
Speaker 2: He was right.
Speaker 3: I had to inform the police about this clown. You
never know if he was really a killer or a prankster,
whatever the case. The police had to get involved, so
I called the cops and reported the situation, then thanked
Mike for his help. Mike asked me where I lived
and offered to drop me off home. I gave him
my address, and before I knew it, I was showered
and in my bed snoring. The next day, I was
not in the mood to get up early as my
son had the day off too, but there was a
loud knock on my door, so I was forced out
of my bed. When I opened the door, two cops
were standing in front of me. I was confused and
did not know what was going on. The cops entered
my home and asked me to take a seat. They
asked if I seen the latest news. No, officers, As
you can see, I just woke up, so I did
not see the news today. They exchanged a look and
one of the officers said.
Speaker 1: Are you Angela Lawson? Were you the one who reported
the clown last night?
Speaker 3: Well, yes, it was me. Can you please explain what
is going on. I'm so confused right now, I exclaimed.
Speaker 1: The cop explained, Miss Lawson, you have no idea how
lucky you are. You should thank the person who saved
you last night. The clown you reported is a serial
killer known as the Butcher Clown. He has been targeting
women working the night shift for a year now. He
has reportedly killed thirteen women in a span of one year,
and he stalks the victims before he kills them. If
you had not gotten in the car and left, you
would not be alive to see a new day.
Speaker 3: This shook me to my core. I was terrified and
happy at the same time that the killer was caught.
But before I could say anything, the cops presented me
with a few pictures.
Speaker 1: These are some of the many images we found from
the clown's apartment. He was stalking you for a while,
Lennard planning this murder for almost three months.
Speaker 3: There were photos of me all over my table, me
in the bar, me in the parking lot, me with
my son, me in my own living room, me dropping
off my kid to school, me running errands and whatnot.
I was rendered speechless. When did he click all these
and how did I not notice? I asked the cops.
Speaker 1: As we said, miss Lawson, he was stalking you for
a couple months. You could take your time to process
all of this, but this Saturday, could you please visit
the station to identify the guy, as you are the
only victim of the butcher clown who has survived.
Speaker 3: I was relieved and scared at the same time. I
agreed to visit the station and decided to take a
few days off from my job. The news channels were
constantly broadcasting the capture of the Butcher clown, and all
my thoughts about the identity of the killer were resolved
when the picture of the creepy guy from the bar
was displayed on screen to be none other than the
Butcher clown.
Speaker 1: Hi guys, my name is Greg. I'm a nightclub security guard,
so you can imagine that I'm used to dealing with
very strange and dangerous situations. Right, Well, you're right. What
you wouldn't imagine is that the strangest and most dangerous
situation of my life. I wouldn't experience it in a nightclub,
but in my own home. That night, I was coming
home from work. As it was a weekday, the club
closed a little earlier, and luckily for me, as there
were very few people, my boss let me leave an
hour earlier. The drive home was a short one. As
I drove back, I wondered what it would have for
dinner and how many hours I could sleep. I arrived
home and started to park my car, but something caught
my attention. A shadow was moving in the bushes reacting
to my every move, waiting for me to move. I
grabbed a piece of metal I kept in the car
in case they wanted to rob me, and headed towards
the bush. Every second every step I took I could
feel the anticipation coursing through my body. I was scared.
At the club, I faced drunk or homeless guys, but
here I didn't know what I might encounter. I faced
the bush, moved the leaves with the iron, and to
my surprise, there was absolutely no one there. I knew
that my brain hadn't played any tricks on me. A
few minutes ago, someone was in that bush, but as
I grabbed my iron, he probably ran away in fear.
It must have been a teenager playing a prank or
the neighbor's kids. Calmed down, I closed the garage door
and went home after eating and getting ready for bed.
I was very curious about that person in the bushes,
so I checked the cameras at my front door to
see if they found anyone, and to my surprise, I
found much more than I expected. Before I arrived, a
clown with a machete was walking around the front of
my house, passing by the front door and seeing if
he saw anyone. Surely it was the same clown who
had been hiding in the bushes. Terrified, I dropped my
glass of water, and even though it hit my foot,
I couldn't feel anything. I was terrified, terrified of the
idea that this man had been so close to my
family and maybe would have come in if my boss
had and let me leave early from work. I was
still afraid that this man dressed as a clown will
return during the night. So I went to my car
and got the metal rod I had used earlier to
inspect the bushes. Before I left, I had left it
in the car while I locked the garage. I got
into the car again, but something strange had happened. The
wand was gone. I looked under the steering wheel to
no avail, and when I looked at the back of
the car, a shadow came out of the darkness and
grabbed my head with both hands. It was the clown
from before. I used all my strength to escape, but
it was useless. This man's strength was so great that
not even a man as trained as me could do
anything about it. The clown kept pulling me deeper and
deeper into the darkness. To who knows what to me
until we both heard my wife's voice, Honey, where are you.
At the sound of her voice, the clown came out
of the darkness and leaned out, still clutching me, but
looking in the direction of my wife's voice. Don't you dare,
I said, still struggling. In response to what I said,
the clown gave me a big smile, and with all
his strength, he slammed my head three times against the
steering wheel of the car and got out of the
car in the direction of my wife. I tried to
follow one, but after a few steps I fell to
the ground dizzy. Those blows to the head had taken
effect on me, and I was losing a lot of blood.
Who are you? Get away from me? No, no, no,
don't hurt her. You want me. My wife's scream made
me gather my strength and get up one more time.
I walked as best I could in the direction of
the screens, and when I managed to get there, there
was no one there, but the basement door was open.
I walked a few steps and looked out. At the
bottom of the stairs was my wife. Her arm was
broken and she was at a pool of blood, not
moving no. I couldn't regret what happened to my wife.
When suddenly the clown appeared out of nowhere behind me
and pushed me down the stairs. The fall was very hard,
but harder was to fall on the corpse of my wife,
who was no longer breathing. In the meantime, I heard
footsteps coming from upstairs. It was the clown walking up
the stairs leading to my children's room. With no time
to grieve, I climbed the stairs with a broken leg,
full of pain. Each step felt like an eternity. I
was very dizzy and losing a lot of blood. When
I got out of the basement, I started to climb
the stairs to the boy's room, until suddenly I heard
the sound of a gunshot. I made even more effort
to get upstairs, and when I saw my children's door,
it was closed, but blood was coming out from under
the door. I kept walking to confront the clown, expecting
to meet the worst. If my children were still alive,
what could I do? The clown was armed, and I
was a dizzy man with a broken leg about to
pass out from all the blood he had lost. I
didn't care what, but I had to do something. I
tried to approach the door, but it opened. The clown
on the other side came out in a rage and
started to choke me. I tried to pull him out,
but I had no strength. Every second that the clown
choked me, I got less and less tight. The clown
was getting weaker and weaker, until he gave up and
fell to the ground. Confused, I looked down. The clown
had a huge hole in his body. Running out of energy,
I fell to the ground and watched as my two
sons ran towards me, trying to wake me up. When
I woke the next day, I was in the hospital
from the sound of the gun. Some neighbors came to
my house and found me on the floor. They took
me to the hospital right away. If they hadn't, I
wouldn't be alive today. The police came to see me
at the hospital and told me everything that happened. The
clown was trying to grab my youngest son from under
the bed. My oldest son, who was hiding in the closet,
saw down the stairs what the clown did to his mother,
ran to my room and grabbed my gun. As the
clown was about to grab his brother. He shot him wounded.
The clown left the room and found me while my
son went running after his brother. It was very convenient
that as a child I taught him to shoot, even
though I didn't know he knew where my gun was.
I can't be mad. It saved his life, his brothers
and mine. Unfortunately, my wife was not so fortunate. She
died instantly from an impact to the head as she
fell down the stairs. The wake was sad and tragic.
It was never known what the clown wanted, but from
what the police told me, my family was the first
to survive his ruthless attacks. Since that day, my son
and I started therapy. We can't recover from what happened
that night. After that, our lives will never be the same. Hey, guys,
my name is Shane, and even though I have a
boring office job these days, I will never forget my
time working at Huddle House. I must admit I wasn't
there for that long. It was only a year, but
that year was unforgettable. My co workers and my bosses
treated me well. The staff was generally nice, and the
food was delicious. Unfortunately, my experience did not end on
a good note, as I didn't leave to find a
better job or to go on vacation, as I had
originally planned. My experience at Huddle House ended because I
experienced the worst night of my life, a night in which,
almost without reason, I was close to being the victim
of a bloodthirsty serial killer. It all started on my
night shift. I was serving all the customers as usual.
The line was a bit long, but it was moving fast.
Customers were choosing their food very quickly and paying in
cash since it was so busy. The night flew by,
and even though my shift was almost over, I felt
like I had just come in. Everything was going more
than excellent, until a face on the table began to
catch my attention, a face that stood out from the rest,
but for the wrong reasons. The man's face was imposing,
full of scars and with some burns. His eyes were
full of anger, and I could see how this was
accompanied by his lips, which he was biting with impatience.
The queue was moving fast, but the man could not
catch up, so furious, he pushed the people in the
queue and took second place to the person I was serving.
All the customers pretended to say something to him, but
when they saw his terrifying face. They all chickened out
and let him pass. When he got to the line,
he impatiently began to order his food. Other employees might
wait on him and let him get away with it
to avoid trouble, but this was not my case. I
was not going to let him abuse the rest of
the customers and get his food first. Sir, I will
not serve you until you return to your place in
line and respect it. What what I said, sir, Let
the next one through and get back to your place.
The look on this man's face as he heard my
words was indescribable. His eyes were even more filled with
anger than before, but directed at me. This man had
a killer look in his eyes. And even though I
don't remember very clearly today, I can swear that I
even saw a little foam coming out of his mouth.
Who the hell do you think you are to tell
me to get back in line? All these people let
me pass in good faith. He turned around and looked
at the people, shouting, right, or didn't you all let
me through? They all bowed their hands, but no one responded.
See they all agreed, give me my food before I
make you agree too. Was this man threatening me in
the middle of the restaurant, with all the security at
the door and my coworkers nearby, I wasn't going to
let a customer walk. I knew he couldn't hurt me
since I knew martial arts. Sir, I'm done talking with you.
What did you say, you little scum? Do you dare
disrespect me? You a damn huddle house employee? Furious, the
man left the line and came after me, throwing a
punch from a distance that I quickly dodged. I decided
to use my training in action and quickly stopped him.
My companions were terrified, and security was coming as fast
as they could, but people were laughing loudly filming what
was happening while I caught the man with my arms.
A few seconds later, security arrived along with others and employees,
grabbed the man and began to carry him away. As
they did so, the man could only look at me,
and more furious than ever, he screamed at me, Oh,
never forgive you for this humiliation. You and all the
people you love will pay for it. I will kill
you all you will regret making a fool of me.
I will destroy your life took him out of the restaurant.
I couldn't help but feel a cold chill run down
my back. In the fight, I overpowered this man completely,
but there was no way of knowing what he was
capable of. His threats were terrifying, but worst of all,
they sounded real. For the next few days, I went
to work with some fear. Every time I went in,
I looked everywhere. Sometimes I felt that a strange car
was following me, but I attributed it all to my imagination.
Surely everything he said to me was the result of
the anger of the moment, and when he calmed down,
the man decided that it was not worth trying to
get revenge on me, especially when he had everything to lose.
Time passed and I felt calmer. Everything was better until
one night, the night my life changed. I came home
from work and normally my wife and two daughters were
waiting for me to eat. When I walked in, the
door was open and there was no one in the
dining room. I went to the kitchen and to my surprise,
was also empty. Something strange was happening. I looked around
the house to no avail, and just as I was
about to give up. I went upstairs and into my
daughter's room. As I entered, I gasped in terror at
what I was seeing. My daughters and my wife were
on the other side of the room, stuck to the window.
The three of them were tied up and holding my wife.
The man with whom I had fought so many days
before was staring at me, full of anger, but with
a big smile on his face. Girls, Look who's home?
The brave father, defender of the defenseless people in line
at a damn fast food restaurant. What what's going on here?
I went running in his direction, but suddenly the man
pulled out a knife and put it to my wife's neck.
Dare to take one more step than I'll cut her
open like a fish. Dear friend, what the hell do
you want? You can take all our stuff, take everything,
just don't hurt them. Do you think this is a robbery,
This is not theft, this is vengeance? Or didn't I
tell you that I would hurt you in all your
loved ones that day? You made a fool of me.
Nobody makes a fool of me. I'll make sure you
regret it for the little time you have left alive.
As soon as he finished saying his words, I gathered
all my courage and started walking towards him. This man
was a coward, a coward who kidnapped women and girls
in order to hurt people. He would never dare to
hurt them because he knew he would go to jail
or worse, I would kill him without saying another word.
I rushed toward him, but halfway the unthinkable happened. I
told you to stay away. In the coldest and cruelest way,
the man pushed my wife out of the window without warning.
I couldn't see if she was still alive, but the
way she was tied up, it was very difficult for
her to have survived, since she couldn't use her hands
to cover her vital parts. I was more furious than ever.
I wanted to kill this man. When I saw him
put a knife to the neck of one of my daughters,
I froze in place. See I told you I would
hurt them. Did you think I would chicken out and
ask for forgiveness if you came running in my direction?
But I don't think you understand your position. Neither you
nor your daughters will get out of this night alive.
Please I fell to my knees on the ground, crying,
that's more like it. With my daughter in one of
his arms and the knife in his other hand, the
man approached me, laughing. He lifted his huge feet and
put one over my head, leaving me with my mouth
on the floor. At that moment, I felt the man
use his foot to squeeze me tighter and tighter, stepping
on me like a cockroach as he laughed frantically. I
couldn't let this cycle win. I couldn't let him hurt
my daughters. But I couldn't do anything. The man stopped
stepping on my head told me to lick his boot,
to which I agreed and cried as I watched him
hold my little daughter with his huge arm. On the
other hand, I can see his knife. Be careful where
you look. One false movement. I won't try to kill you,
but your daughter. You won't have time to make me
that damn key you made me in huddle house, and
if you do, will be bathed in your daughter's blood.
While he was talking, I analyzed the situation and understood
that I could never get the knife out of his hand.
His arm was a little further back, and I could
easily see that he was holding it very tightly. He
was waiting for me to pounce and pull it out.
He wanted this to happen so he could kill my daughter.
What he didn't notice is that he paid so much
attention to the knife that he neglected my daughter's arm.
With a strong and abrupt movement, I grabbed my daughter's
feet from the ground and pulled her backward, causing her
to fall. She fell and hit the ground and hit
her head, but she was fine. At the man's bewilderment,
I stood up quickly and jumped at him, ramming him
into the window with all my might. We both fell
out of it. I opened my eyes slowly. I was
in a lot of pain and thought I had broken
my arm. But I had gotten this man out of
my house. My daughters could hide or get out. I
turned to see him, and to my terror, he had
stood up. He stood in front of me, looking at me,
more furious than ever. With his injured leg, he leaped
over to where I was, and when he got there,
he bent down and put both his hands to my neck.
I tried to defend myself, but my body hurt too much.
I was immobilized. His hands got tighter and tighter, and
I thought I was going to faint and die. My
wife was not around. Maybe she had escaped. Maybe she
could escape with the girls and survive. I began to
close my eyes, and a miracle happened. Two policemen came
out of nowhere and grabbed a man. They pulled him
back and he limped from the fall. Gave it out
of breath and confused. I closed my eyes and remembered
nothing more. A short time later, I woke up in
the hospital. A policeman arrived a few minutes later and
told me that some neighbors saw my wife fall out
of the window, tied up. They didn't dare go up
to see what was happening, but they called the police.
In the ambulance, she barely survived. She was very close
to death. The man who was arrested that night was
soon discovered to be a dangerous serial killer who was
wanted in Canada. No one ever suspected he had come
to this country. The man was deported to his home
country and sentenced to life in prison. He could no
longer harm any one. After my wife and I recovered
in time, we went to pick up our daughters at
the neighbor's house, and I decided to quit my job
at Huddle House. I would never again take a job
where I have to see other people. Many of them
may be good and kind, but for every ten hundred
or even a thousand good people, there may be a
hidden monster that can end your life and the lives
of the people you love. I am John List and
I was born on September seventeenth, nineteen twenty five, to
John F. And Alma M. My mother was thirty eight
years old and my father was sixty six. At the time,
I didn't have any full blooded siblings, but I did
have a paternal half brother and half sister. My entire
family and I were both negatively impacted by an encounter
I experience. I think there should have been sufficient research
done before moving into any home I changed for the worse.
My wife and I were celebrating moving into a new
home when we returned from our date one evening. We
had a wonderful night, and the talk was much like
when we first started dating. The food was perfect, the
wine we drank was sweet, and the conversation was just right.
I gave the way to a sizeable tip an addition
to paying the tab. We exited the establishment and climbed
into our car, beaming and giggling from the fun we had.
We pulled into our driveway and into our garage, got
out of the car and continued to talk about what
a lovely night it had been and how a nice
night of rest would complete this beautiful date. The mood
was still so warm and comforting as we were driving.
As we made our way into the house, my wife
noticed a dark, tall figure with big round eyes peeking
through the garage window at us. She froze, could not
move because she was too scared. I started chuckling and
gently put my arm around her shoulders, then proceeded to
walk her into the house. She whispered, there is something
peeking through the window at us. I continued to chuckle
a little more before answering, I know I saw it too.
As soon as I entered the home, I swiftly secured
the door that led to the garage as the kids
had come to us, signaling our return. My thirteen year
old son Frederick responded no, but my fifteen year old
son and sixteen year old daughter Patricia related their experiences.
When we asked if they had been on the lookout
for anything weird. During our date night when we were away,
other people were playing in her room upstairs while I
was occupied watching TV. I was a little unnerved by
the mild wind that was blowing, since it made the
house creak. My attention was suddenly drawn to Patricia's room
on the second floor as a loud scream rang out.
To find out what had occurred, I hurried upstairs to
her room. As I walked in, I noticed Patricia staring
terrified out the window. What happened, Patricia, I yelled, indifferent
and unfazed. I quickly looked out the window and found
only total darkness. There was someone standing in the window
looking at me. There's nothing there, I said, before requesting.
Patricia joined me downstairs to watch TV. When I walked
to the kitchen to make some tea, I grabbed the
cups and started to rent them when I noticed a
figure staring at me from the darkness about ten meters away.
I dropped the cups and decided to run, but I
slipped and fell on the broken glass on the floor.
Patricia sat under her blanket watching TV as I made
the tea. As I struggled to stand. Three loud bangs
could be heard coming from the front entrance, and I
hastily raced there. Patricia, who was the older sister, was
supposed to be the protector, but was busy cowering under
her blanket out of fear. A dark figure of a
person standing in pitch black was staring directly at me.
As I carefully peeped up through the window of the door,
my wife and children started crying because of how scared
they were. I quickly went to comfort them. I quickly
checked around to see if the curtains were closed. Luckily
they were, because she was afraid that the big eyed,
tall figure might peep at them again. We were all terrified.
We decided to go hide in the bathroom. We instantly
froze up and glanced around, bewildered and afraid. Since the
electricity went out shortly after we reached it. The wife
softly replied, I don't know, while tightly gripping her wrist
in response to my whispered question, what the heck just happened?
We both sighed in relief as the electricity came back on,
and while we took pleasure in the fleeting victory. My
wife adds, Oh, thank God. Then all of a sudden,
the power goes out once more and the ceiling begins
to shake. We gaze up as our heads followed the sounds,
terrified and clinging to each other. In the backyard, there
was a loud thud. Now we finally realize that we
are not alone and what we saw was not a
part of our imagination. Then things got quiet. Eventually we
retired to our room to sleep. There was a brief
period of peace, after which we felt no signs of
being disturbed. We attempted to summon some courage as we
headed to bed, even though we were still shivering from fear.
I awoke while still in my bed and my eyes
were open. I attempted to move my finger in the dark,
but failed to do so. Before realizing my error, I
sensed movement in the room and depressed us. Although I
was unable to see anything, I felt there was something
and it didn't feel humor. I made an attempt to
move my body, but it appeared that gravity was now
acting more forcefully as a result, and I started to
perspire heavily. I was unable to move anything other than
my eyes. Whatever was in my chamber was unbeatable despite
my best efforts to view it. When I tried to,
nothing came out. I felt the presence at the foot
of my bed. I was able to lift my hand
after gathering my strength, but I was unable to feel anything.
When I sensed the presence getting closer to me, I
was able to get myself out of bed and begin
crawling on the floor with all the strength I could
muster in my body. The presence seemed to be following me.
I gathered more energy and continued to run quickly. I
tried calling out the names of my family, but nothing
came out of my mouth. I attempted to scream once
again as the entity entered the room and drew near
to me. Then, when I came to while still in
my bed, nothing had changed, save for the fact that
I was no longer aware of the presence. As soon
as I discovered I could move, I swiftly checked around.
Then I swiftly looked to see if my wife was
lying next to me. Being in bed with me made
me joyful. I told my family everything the following day,
but they all said it was all a dream. Every
day I made an effort to convince myself that it
was a dream, but it felt so genuine that I
am now confident it wasn't. After a few days, I
felt someone talking to me. Uncontrollable ideas started to cross
my head. These were only bad thoughts. I made an
effort to push those thoughts away, but they were just
too strong for me. Due to my severe financial issues
and the difficulty I was having providing for my family's needs,
I made the decision to go with my instinct. Even
though I was a vice president and comptroller at a
bank in Jersey City, New Jersey, I had little and
was not happy. Not only that, but my family members
were leading me away from my religious beliefs. Therefore, I
sought freedom from myself. I devotedly practiced Lutheranism and teach
Sunday school much like my father. They would be guaranteed
a spot in heaven if I killed them, I thought,
and I hoped to one day join them there. On
November ninth, nineteen seventy one, I permitted a quintupal murder.
Using a nine millimeter semi automatic handgun and a twenty
two caliber revolver, I began shooting my forty six year
old wife Helen List. I had to punch her first
and then batter her till I instantly filed. She was
bleeding badly. When she collapsed to the ground, I was shocked.
I never knew I could do such a thing. I
could smell the blood and feel it seeping under her hair.
I made another gun shot. It was really awful. Then
when I heard something pop in my year. This time
I shot my mother, my eighty four year old mother, Alma,
inside the new home, a Westfield, New Jersey, Victorian mansion
known as Breeze No. When my sixteen year old daughter Patricia,
when my thirteen year old son Frederick came home from school,
I fatally shot them as well. I then made myself lunch,
drove to a bank to close my wife's and mother's accounts,
canceled mail and milk deliveries, and notified my children's schools
that the kids would be absent for an extended period
as the family needed to care for an ailing relative
in another state. After these tasks, I went to my
fifteen year old son John's high school to watch him
play in a soccer game. He tried all his best
to fight back against me. I had to cover his
mouth to prevent him from shouting and yelling out loud.
I struggled with him while the attack was going on.
As he injured me with a pen that he brought
out of his pocket. I simply felt a sharp pain
in my chest, and then it made me release him
as he tried to run. I ultimately shot him ten
times in his face and chest. After I was done
with the killing, I was assuring myself of making heaven
as I smiled. I left my wife's body in her
attic apartment in the mansion and placed her in the
children's bodies on sleeping bags in the ballroom, and I
left music playing in the Five bodies were not discovered
until December seventh, nineteen seventy one. Reportedly, when police entered
the house, the music was still playing. The inner calm.
Now that Halloween is almost here, it's time to explore
the gloomy, spooky, and unpleasant. What other time is there
to celebrate the spookiest holiday of the year at twelve
in the morning on a frigid night. Halloween is always
associated with terror. Halloween is an occasion to celebrate the
macab Whether you go to a haunted house, dress up
as your favorite movie villain or watch a horror movie. Halloween.
Knight's ghastliness, though, is all too true for some people.
In the past, All hollows Eve has even seen a
number of violent crimes, including senseless murders and murders motivated
by passion. Since I consider some of the incidents that
occur on Halloween nights to be rumors unless I personally
have one, I don't really believe in that. I'll always
remember that day. I actually had a pretty horrific experience.
It was not something I could have ever imagined could happen.
My two other friends and I went to the market
to get the goods to manufacture candy that we would
then distribute to the kids. Children were very dear to us,
and we constantly wanted to bring them joy. We had
spent our last night handing out Halloween candy to the
kids in the neighborhood before turning in for the night.
At about eleven o'clock, I experienced a nightmare as I
was about to go to sleep. It was the most
terrifying thing I'd ever been through. In the dream, I
was walking through a location I don't remember, but the
sand there made it seem like a desert. Somehow. I
had no idea how I had gotten there, but I
knew I was lost and alone. I glanced down as
I walked, trying to find a way out, and I
saw that I was holding a machete. The blade of cold,
long steel seemed extremely sharp. Even though it was pitch black,
I could see a little. The heat was so strong
that I felt exhausted, despite the fact that I had
no idea where I was headed and was heavily perspiring,
I continued to walk. After a while, I caught a
glimpse of a dark person squatting down in the distance.
It was a hume lying in the sand, and as
I got closer, I could see that I was relieved
to meet someone else because I had been feeling really lonely.
I hurried over to the man and knelt down to
help him up. However, as soon as I turned the
man over, my stomach dropped at the sight of his face.
I was looking in the mirror, and the man had
my face in his I raised the machete above his
head and without thinking, cut the man to death. In
that instant. Because I was so overcome with dread, I
could not believe I would have done such a thing.
I dropped the weapon and horror at what I had
just done, and began to flee the area as much
as I could by racing into the desert. My feet
dug deeper into the sand with each shrivee, but I
persisted anyway. Propelled by fear and panic, I eventually lost
my balance and collapsed to the ground. I discovered that
I had sprained my ankle. As I lay in the sand,
I was unable to take another step. I was leapt
with no choice except to lay there where I had fallen.
I eventually noticed something in the distance. When I looked up,
another man's form could be seen moving toward me across
the vast desert. I waited until I could see the
man's face clearly as he drew near. To my amazement,
once more, I saw that it was a man who
looked like me, and that he was holding a razor's
shark machete. As soon as I woke up, I started screaming.
I heard my spectacle smash. I jumped out of bed
and went looking for cover. Oh my god, I'm done
for I don't think I'll survive. Although I could hear
someone entering the house. I could only see with my eyes,
so I had no idea who it was. God, please
be with me. I was saying a quick prayer in
my head at the time, come and rescue me. I
heard myself yell out in a sudden voice. The amount
of shouting was so loud that my ear drum came
close to bursting. I walked into the upstairs bedroom to
try and peek in and see what was going on.
When I noticed a dead body on the floor, I
recognized my friend Mazara. She was lying in a pool
of her own blood at the bottom of the stairs.
Her dead eyes were fixed on mine and seemed to
be saying something I couldn't understand. To keep the murderer
from hearing me scream, I tried to do so while
covering my lips. I abruptly heard another noise, which was
followed by a slow decrease in volume. I grew even
more terrified. I was aware that Insgna, my other companion,
was the one who had perished. I suddenly noticed the
shadow on the wall that indicated the man was moving
toward me. I was able to get out of the
house and drive away in my car. I used my
mobile phone to make a police call. Later, it was
report ordered on the news that Eric Matthew Copple, a
friend of one of the victims who also happened to
be my friend, eventually brought himself in and admitted to
the killings, though he never revealed his motivation. According to
the Napa Valley Register, Copple allegedly arrived at the victim's
home in the twenty six hundred block of Dorset Street
after midnight, smoked cigarettes outside, and broke in through the
downstairs kitchen window. According to police, Copple claimed to have
ascended the stairs and killed the two women with a knife.
Reportedly repeatedly asserted his inability to recall specifics of what
occurred to the police during their questioning that evening, he
turned himself in. The murder weapon was never located by investigators,
they claimed. Copple admitted to them that he had thrown
the knife that evening, but he couldn't recall where the
clothing he was wearing, he added, had been torched. On
January eleventh, Coppa will be given a formal sentence. The
families of the victtims will be permitted to address the
court at that time to discuss their loss and how
it has affected them. The chance for Copper to speak
will also come up in front of a court room
full of the victim's families, friends and in laws. While
wearing a black suit, a black tie and a white shirt,
Copple acknowledged killing the women upstairs in their Dorset Street house.
He also admitted to killing his wife, mother and in laws.