Speaker 1: Welcome to Scary Story podcast. A traveler visits a mostly
abandoned town and discovers its dark secrets. My name is Edwin,
and here it's a scary story. Walking up to it
felt like a dream. Old abandoned places the can you
imagine when you walk through campus by yourself near sunset,
when the professors and the rest of the students have
long gone home. Except this was real. It's how a
nightmare begins. I'd gotten used to sleeping in the car.
After the fourth day, I was told that I could,
and the cheap old lady had only given me four
hundred dollars for the entire trip. It was supposed to
cover food and everything, but I knew it wouldn't. Don't
go telling a broke man how far a dollar can go.
He knows it. This was going to be good enough
for a few more tanks of gas and some of
the gas station hot dogs. With hotels going for more
than fifty dollars. Around there, there was no way rest areas,
truck stops, and places like these where the people are
gone become my temporary stays, rushed places, loud places, or
these lonely ones out in the desert. It was good
to mix and match, and this time it was a
turn for the lonely. I shut the door behind me
and out a few steps to take care of business
behind one of the trees. As I was turning back
to the car. Might happened by pure chance to see
a house up across a field. They might have a
place to stay, a shed, or even a water hose
that wasn't too far from a Brown's truck stop. And
they were all over the place. But those tops had showers.
But as always, I had put it off until today.
I got back in the car and made my way
up the road until I saw the turn to the
left a dirt path, and I nearly missed it from
all the dried up bushes. I didn't want to beat
up the car too much. The thing was a new
purchase for Yolanda, and she wanted me to deliver it intact.
That reminded me that I had to correct her every
time she said the word intact, as intacts, there is
no s in it, Yoli intact intact. Okay, okay, she
said over the phone. Just bring it to me in
good condition, just like I bought it. I kept thinking
about that as I drove up to the house. I'd
finally gotten to it. It looked well kept from the front,
but I got distracted again, this time by the multitude
of houses and buildings along a paved street. Behind this house.
The street was cracked grass and weeds growing all over
the edges of the raised and beat up sidewalks. Those
places needed attention. I parked the car, stepped out to
a rush of hot air, and made my way down
main street. A book store, Hal's, a book palace with
the broken windows and empty shelves, King's pawn shop, the
place called Burghers, and two four story buildings right next
to each other, one a bank and the other a
large shop or factory of some sort with the words
textiles at the top. I walked along the middle of
the street, the sound of my shoes breaking the silence
whenever the dusty wind stopped up. Ahead was another building,
separated from the rest except for a gas station with
a broken down nineteen seventy two Chevy truck in the front.
Right by a playground, not the kind with the grassy
fields or anything, but the hard concrete ground with a
metal slide and a swing set. I walked up to
look at the Chevy. I knew a thing or two
about cars, and someone could give you a pretty penny
for that kind of thing. And that's what I noted
that the store was stopped, not all the way, but
there were things on the shelves. The door had no
glass and had not had it for a long time.
They stepped inside passed a gumball machine with a gum
blended together in an ugly brownish gray color. A pink
one was stuck against the glass. From the inside, there
were old glass bottles of drinks with no carbonation, probably
boiled after all this time, and dried up cookies and
cakes all along the front counter. The newspaper stand had
one paper on it, November two, nineteen eighty two, the
last delivery Mayer decides to leave town behind, was the headline.
But this place was missing much more than just a mayor.
It was empty. It was so I thought. I saw
a shadow pass by the front of the store, and
in that natural panic most of us would feel at
such a moment, likely not a zombie or a monster
of some sort, but the possibilities of it being a
murderer is never quite zero. I walked over the door,
avoiding stepping on the trash on the floor, just in
case it crunched or crinkled. The broken glass between my
shoes and the tile is what made the most noise.
The shadow passed by again, this time on the left
side of the store. What the truck was? I was
outside now and heading toward it when I saw a
man somewhere in his sixties standing quietly by the wall,
listening for anyone inside. How you doing, I asked, startling
the guy as you looked at me wide eyed. That's
your car by my house, he asked, a sudden angry
tone in his voice. Yeah, I'll go move it, I responded,
indifferent to his attitude. You never know what kind of
people you'll encounter out on the road, and this is
a kind he wanted to be real careful with, especially
when they have jackets on during hot days, and even
worse if they are long enough to hang over their
waistbelts on either side. I was set on getting back
on the car and leaving no questions, no conversations with
this guy. But just as I turned my back and
started walking, he changes tone. There's a lot back there
if you choose a water well behind the playground, just
to wait there until sunrise. I looked back and stopped
for a few seconds and thank them, letting him know
that it would only be for a few hours, and
that I had to head out. If it's only a
few hours be out by sunset. I looked at him, confused,
but he nodded, not trusting me, just like I didn't
trust him. And then I walked back to the car
and drove it down the forgotten main street. I don't
know what this guy was talking about be out by sunset?
Did he own the town? There was a place private
property somehow. There was something about rules the law that
I never quite liked, especially from someone like this guy,
the only person I had seen in a while telling
me how long I could stay. Sunset was in a
couple of hours, and I hadn't slept very well, but
I was quite tired by this point. I could easily
fall asleep in such a quiet place away from the
roads like this, but something felt strange about being there.
I didn't know how long I wanted to or would
be able to stay. I spotted the lot after passing
the playground. It faced the rest of the desert area
where the sun was going to set, and yet the
place where I had parked seemed darker than the rest.
The well just around the corner behind the building happened
to be away from the shade. I grabbed the empty
plastic jug and walked over to it as soon as
they shut off the car, and as I was looking
down at the metal mechanism, a thing I had only
seen in movies up until that point, another shadow passed
by me. I looked immediately to my right and managed
to catch a glimpse of the figure. Not a man
by any means. They were like lumps turning around the
corner of the building, two small ones, maybe like children.
I was out in what would appear to most as
being in the middle of nowhere, so these could have
easily been coyotes or some sort of animal. But all
my theories went away when I heard the set of
swings on the playground begin to squeak. Slowly turned my
head to with the source of the sound. There they
were what looked like two children, a boy and a girl,
nearly motionless on the rusted chains of the swings, going
back and forth, their backs toward me. I guess this
place wasn't empty after all. Part two of this story
is coming upward after this, Thank you and stay with me.
The jug was full and I was on my way
back after spending a little too long by the well.
Really just a cranking mechanism to get the water out
of a hole in the ground. The children that were
at the playground must have left when I was washing
my face, probably as I was watching how fast the
water disappeared when it hit the ground. I opened up
the back door and took out a bag of pork
rindes I forgot I had gotten earlier. And I there
with the door open, closing my eyes for just a
little while as the sun became a darker golden color.
It was about to set, and I was thinking about
what that man from earlier had said to leave before sunset.
That's when I heard footsteps from behind the car, rushed
ones and then aloud, hey, angry again. I jolted out
of my seat and stood right in front of that man,
ready to argue if I needed to. Nobody was going
to tell me what to do on what appeared to
be a public lot with no other cars around. You
gotta get out of here now, I sensed a little
bit of worry instead of anger. This time. Why, what's wrong?
I'll even a bit. You got ways to cover up
your windows? Stay until sunrise, then, just don't be out
in the streets. After sunset, it looked over the sun
it was orange and against the horizon. Now he looked too,
and yelled from a distance as he started running back
to his house, the one closer to the main road.
He was saying to get inside and stay inside until sunrise.
I could hear him repeating that until he finally turned
the corner and it was far enough away for his
voice to fade. The silence that came over that town
was deafening. The ringing in my ear now louder than
the wind that was humming just a few seconds before.
I closed the door to the back seat and moved
to the passenger side of the car, going around the
front to get one of my mats ready, maybe to
take a short nap before heading out. When I heard it,
the chains of the swings at the playground were moving.
I looked over. The stretched out shadows that had once
crossed the street were now gone. That's when I heard
the distinct sound of children laughing. The swings were squeaking,
now moving back and forth as darkness started to take over,
the temperature dropping so fast, something that only happened in
the desert. From what Dad is to tell me, unpredictable,
he would say, it doesn't forgive anybody. At the time,
my mind was resitting it out that maybe these kids
belonged to the crazy man from the big house, or
that maybe there were other people living in the town,
travelers like me going across a desert and decided it
was too hot to let their children outside during the day,
maybe a combination of them all. It was an uneasy
feeling no matter what, and even though I considered myself
pretty self reliant and not afraid of little children playing
on a swing set, I desperately wanted to leave. I
got inside to finish up setting everything up in the car,
but when I shut the door, I heard the kid's
sholl and begin to run away. I followed them with
my eyes until they disappeared around the corner of the building.
They seemed to struggle to run. The boys seemed to
have abnormally long arms, or maybe they were just the
sleeves of his shirt nearly dragging on the ground. My
shoulders were tense as I waited to hear any more
sounds from that lot, but that was nothing else. I'd
put in my earphones and shut my eyes on the
passenger seat, setting my alarm for ten PM as a
backup plan. I jolted awake as I watched several shadows
run away from the car in all directions, silhouettes grunting
as they rushed to get away from the car. I
could hear them breathing, even from afar. I didn't want
to be there anymore. The level of discomfort is something
that I still cannot explain. That these were people that
only come out at night, abandoned town, away from everybody.
I didn't want to be there. They were watching me,
they were around me while I was sleeping. I tried
to think back, wondering if any of the sounds had
made it into my dreams. How long were they there for?
And where was the man from the town who had
spoken to me earlier. I opened the passenger side door,
was unlocked, typical. I got outside and rushed the driver's
side door, got in and started up the car. Not
one more second in this place. It was too quiet,
too dark. I always thought this would be my thing,
that this is what I wanted, but I told everyone
to be away from everything, no internet, no signal, live
off the land, be by myself. The joke was on me.
I turned the car around, nearly hitting one of those
parking cement barriers. Rushing down the cracked street and through
some of the right up bushes in the middle of
what was left of it, I floored it by the
dirt road and passed the dark house where I had parked. Originally,
I could not see a single set of headlights on
the road to show me where it was, but I
knew that it wasn't too far. I had to turn
left as soon as I saw the asphalt, but as
I leaned forward to look to both sides ahead of me,
I saw the lights from the truck, the same one
that was parked at the gas station, were right behind me.
I could spot those from a mile away. My tires
screeched as I tried to get away from it. Who
knows what my stubborn, wanna be independent mind had gotten
me into. I felt angry for falling for this trap,
for listening to the man who said to stay at
that lot, the things that were walking around my car
that night. I finally spotted the road up ahead and
swerved left to get on it, quickly getting up to speed,
and the truck followed. It got very close to me
and flashed its high beams, really blinding me with the
reary mirror. I turned it away from me as I
stepped on it even more, rushing to get ahead, but
the truck sped up with me. I could hear it
honking behind me. There was nowhere I could go. Not
far from there was Brown's truck stock. It would be
empty with no cars around. It was only three more
miles ahead. The truck was getting so close behind the
car that at times I only waited for the impact.
Was traveling so fast and this was sure to flip
me over. No one would know I was there. The
car wasn't even registered to my name my license. They
would identify me by my license. There was one more
mile into the truck stop, and I had no plan,
just pull in and hope that the attendant would become
a witness for what was about to happen to me.
Maybe they would have a phone, but signal. The off
ramp was just ahead, and the truck was once again
flashing its high beams and honking at me. Until I
turned left. I pulled into the truck stock. I rushed
over the gas bomps. I hit the brakes and put
it in park. I opened the door as fast as
I could and brushed in toward the shop that these
places always had. The truck wasn't too far from me,
and I could see the man getting out of it,
rushing toward my car. I had my keys. He'd have
to force it to start it if he wanted to
steal it. Although I once again forgot to lock the doors.
I watched from the inside as a man walked over
to the passenger side of my car and peeked inside.
Two small silhouettes were inside of my car. He opened
the door, and right there, under the bright lights by
the gas bomps, I could see them. They weren't kids.
Their faces were those of older people, missing hair on
sides of their heads, clothes so degraded you could see
the lumps on their skin. I watched as he tugged
at their arms and dragged the taller one into his truck.
He carried the other one up there. He pushed them
into the back seat and shut the doors, got in
and drove off. I was there for a few minutes,
trying to process what had just happened. That's when the
voice of the girl behind the counter startled me as
she asked what I was doing. I got chased here,
I told her, a complete stranger. I was at this
town not far from here. There were these kids, or
what I thought were kids, running around this abandoned town.
A man in a truck followed me here. There were
other things roaming around at night. That was making no sense.
She looked at me quietly, letting me finish, and then
I looked right at her and apologized. She looked me
right in the eye. Just down the road on the right,
you mean, maybe ten minutes away. I simply looked at her,
waiting for her to continue. Don't go there. I don't
think those are people shocked. I looked at her, expecting
her to explain further. There's only one guy out there.
He comes around here sometimes he takes care of him.
I didn't want to ask any more questions. I don't
know what they were or what they wanted, But ever
since that day, I stopped staying wherever the heck I wanted.
I often go back to the words of my dad
about the desert. I'm predictable. It doesn't forgive anybody. Scary
Story podcast is written and produced by me Edwin Kovarubies.
This story was written through requests and comments about a
style that I had in the beginning of the show.
Let me know your thoughts and ideas. We're on Instagram
at scary pod all one word scary Pod, but I'll
also put my contact information in the description of this episode.
Thanks for your support, by the way over on scaryplus
dot com, and for trying it out to get the
ad free episodes. Up next, check out another one of
my favorite stories on here. It's called Maps and it
follows a similar style. I'll link to it for you
in the description of the episode. Anyway, Thank you very
much for listening. Keep it scary everyone. To you soon.