Speaker 1: Welcome to Scary Story Podcast. Today's story is about a
strange encounter out on the road. My name is Edwin,
and here's a scary story. The man's glowing fluorescent vest
got to my eyes as I was walking him toward
the front gate of my house. Just as my husband
pulled up. He shook his head, stepped out slowly as
he always did, and walked up across a gravel covered driveway.
He nodded at the man and then gave me a stare.
I knew what he was about to say, but I
didn't care, and a bit of few of you would
agree with me. If I do a good deed and
the beneficiary ends up wasting it or taking advantage of it,
that's on them, right, not me. I would have already
done my part, and that's what this man wanted. He
was raising for a charity that donated wheelchairs at the
end of the year, but they were short on their
goals and were going door to door raising the funds
before their deadline, their self imposed deadlines. My husband would
probably say, but I didn't bother to explain much else.
All I said was that he was there for charity.
He told me the same things over again, that I
was by myself, and that we didn't know who was
stepping into the property. What if he tried to kill
me or something. Of course, whenever he would find a
news article of something happening to a woman who opened
the door for a delivery person, or even just waiting
at a red light without the locks on her doors,
he would send them over. I understood him, I really did.
But the guy had some serious trust issues. What happened
to you when you were little? I would ask him.
Although I think he was right about half the time
on his fears. It's just that it wasn't only those
things that I used to do that take them off.
I just remember how hard it was to get something
right with the guy. Do you still want to go
to the store, he asked, waiting for my answer in silence.
I shrugged, and then he said he was going to
use the bathroom and be right out. So I yelled
for him to get my purse. As I waited by
the passenger side of the truck. I reached for that
bag when you were at a red light, and he
quickly shot me a glance. There was a woman standing
at the median of the street right by the no
U turn sign. I held back the urge to ask
him what if she had kids, or to tell him
that if we have the chance, we should help people.
But I had enough for the day, so I stayed
quiet all the way to the parking lot at the supermarket.
We had a trip planned out towards the mountains for
that weekend. Supposedly it would be the last of the
fall trees over at Gatcombe Park, and everything was already reserved.
There were a few things that we needed before heading
out early the next day, and honestly, I just I
wanted things to get better now so that the drive
could be manageable. At least. Things hadn't been very good lately,
and I just needed to catch a break. Thankfully, we
were both thinking the same thing. We were able to
talk about it briefly on the way back. I understood
that he was just looking out for me, but he
completely ignored how I was feeling about the whole thing.
I felt alone, what about what I thought about the situations?
When would it be okay to help? And honestly call
it stubbornness or justice, but I wanted to prove him wrong,
just not on that drive back to the house. I
washed my face with a splash of cold water that
quickly started feeling like ice. When I stepped out of
the bathroom. It wasn't even four in the morning, and
Kyle was out loading things into the truck. I could
hear the door opening and closing as he stepped in
and out. Good morning, he said, I thought a lot
about yesterday, and I'm sorry. Let's figure something out, all right.
I looked at him, glad that he had said that,
even though I had no idea what he meant, but
it was a start. The drive wouldn't be as awkward now.
Plus I had already let it go. We were heading
out of the city. The last street light was fading
in the distance behind the truck, and there was nothing
around us but rocks and bushes next to the two
lane highway. Up ahead, about an hour or so, like
a tunnel, stood the entrance of the woods that would
later be followed by another few miles of nothing and
then the climb up to the park. The more we
drove out there, the weaker the radio signal got, until
it served as just white noise to keep us from
being complete silence. Kyle was fully awake. He was used
to getting up this early most days, but I sure wasn't.
After about twenty minut miutes or so, we started talking
normally again, this time about where we were going to stay,
and Robert and Martha, who were going to be joining
us the following day along with their other two friends.
It was supposed to be a time to relax. As
we settled back into conversation, suddenly the fog began to
roll in, thick fast. It crawled over the road like
a ghostly blanket, dimming the truck's headlights. As we pushed
further into the empty highway, the trees ahead, dark, scrawny
swayed gently in the breeze. Strange chill crept over us
in the truck. Kyle slowed down, his eyes scanning the
dense mists. This FOG's insane, he muttered. I nodded, barely
paying attention, still wrapped up in my thoughts from earlier.
But that's when I saw her, out of nowhere, an
old woman standing in the middle of the road. She
was bent and frail. Her hair was a wild mass
of gray, and she was barely clothed in what looked
like a tattered house dress. Her skin was pale, almost
bluish under the headlights, and her face was twisted in
a very strange position. Kyle, I gasped. Before I could
get another word out, he slammed on the brakes. The
truck screeched to a halt, the tires grinding against the asphalt.
We were both jerked forward in our seats. For a
few seconds, there was nothing but the hum of the
engine and the sound of my heart beat hammering in
my ears. The woman stood frozen right in front of us,
her eyes locked on ours through the windshield. Kyle's hands
were gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles
were white. What the heck, he whispered. I didn't say anything,
just there back at the woman. She didn't move, she
didn't flinch. It was as if she were waiting for something.
We need to help her, I said, my voice shaky.
But Kyle wasn't having it, no, no way, There's something
wrong here. His tone was sharp. His earlier apology was
forgotten in an instant. I didn't listen. I couldn't ignoring
his protest, I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the door,
stepping into the frigid air. My heart raised, but I
had to see what was going on. Something about the woman,
something beyond her appearance, felt wrong, but I kept walking
toward her. Ma'am. I called, but she didn't respond. I
was a few steps away when she suddenly moved, lifting
her head slowly. Her eyes were wide and empty, as
though she were staring right through me. I froze, my
breath caught in my throat, and then she smiled. It
wasn't warm or comforting. It was sinister, her lips curling
in a way that sent a cold shiver down my spine,
and without warning, she began to shuffle backward, her feet
scraping the pavement as she moved into the fog, still
watching me back in the truck, Kyle yelled, snapping me
out of my daze. I turned to rush back to
the truck, but when I looked back one last time,
I just saw the shadow running out towards the fields,
vanishing into the mist as if she had never been there.
I slammed my door, shut, my hands trembling as Kyle
hid the gas and we sped away, leaving the strange
woman and whatever she was behind us. See We drove
in silence for what felt like forever, neither of us
daring to look back or speak. But I felt resentment,
maybe at Kyle for not having my back when I
needed him, the lack of support. Like my sister had
told me, whenever I talked to her about her problems,
he would then act like nothing was wrong and expected
everything to go back to normal. But eventually Kyle broke
the silence, his voice tight. That wasn't a normal person,
was it. I shook my head, still trying to process
what had just happened. Maybe she needed help. We drove
in silence for a while, and when I think back
on that morning, I don't know why I said it.
What would an old lady be doing out so late,
out there in the middle of nowhere. Kyle and I
talked about it for a little bit, coming up with
ideas and stories about it. He told me about thefts
out in the road, he had heard about them before.
He talked about the thing not being an old woman
at all, but rather a thief or a killer. I
entertained his stories for over an hour as we drove
farther out toward the tunnel of Trees through the woods.
But just as we were about to head inside there
it was an odd white shape in the middle of
the road up ahead. Kyle let go of the gas
and let the truck cruise as it became clear it
was a bent, frail woman in the middle of the road.
Kyle was gripping the steering wheel tightly in his hands.
When I looked at him, I could see sweat beating
up on his forehead. His eyes were open wide, staring
straight ahead. I realized that all this time I hadn't
considered how afraid he was, and it said, chose to
make fun of him for it when I brought up
the thing about his childhood felt terrible. But at this
time we were heading closer to the woman's face, the
same one from before, with the darkness in the eyes.
As we slowed down even more, just a short distance
away from her, step on it, I yelled. Kyle stepped
on the gas without hesitation as the thing's face approached
the windshield and zoomed past us in a flash. We
drove into the tunnel of trees and into the woods
in silence. Neither of us said a word until we
were deep in the darkness of the forest. She wasn't
real huh, he asked, Impossible, I said, with a smurf,
and so we drove through the darkness, just the two
of us, with the purple guy slowly peeking its way
through the gaps between the leaves, and up ahead. Not
too far was the way out. We were almost there.
Scary Story podcast is written and produced by me Edwin Koorubyas.
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Links to everything or in the description of this episode.
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next week. Thank you very much for listening. Keep it
scary everyone, See you soon.