The Boy
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Whether thou art a ghost that hath come from the earth, or a phantom of night that hath come, or one that lieth dead in the desert, or a ghost unburied, or a demon, or a ghoul, whatever thou be until thou art removed, thou shalt find here no water to drink. Thou shalt not stretch forth thy hand to our own. Into our house enter thou not. Through our fence break through thou not.

We are protected, though we may be frightened. Our life you may not steal, though we may be scared to death. Welcome to Scared to Death, Creeps, Peepers, Roberts, and Annabelles. I'm Dan. I'm Lindsay. Hello, Lindsay. Hello, Dan.

I'll just say two quick things, and then we are off and running. Before we get into the show, I just want to thank Scott and Forrest over on Astonishing Legends for having me on their show recently. Aw, good guys. They're great guys, and they run a wonderful show, and they just know so much about the paranormal, definitely more than I do. Always love chatting with them. And then also excited to be performing at the Nashville Comedy Fest this weekend when this episode comes out, Friday and Saturday, April 11th and 12th.

My last stand-up spots for the year and possibly for a very long time. Just too busy with Nightmare Fuel, scared to death, plans for Nightmare Fuel related content in the future, everything over on Time Suck and just life in general to have the space that I would need to dedicate to touring and generating new material I feel good about. So

I hope to see some of you at Zany's in Nashville. Woohoo! We are going to do little meet and greets after the show. It's impromptu ones. No, you don't have to pay for anything. Yeah, just a casual come by, say hello, grab a photo. Yeah. I'll be there if that's an extra motivator. And that's it. And that's, yeah, I'm looking forward, we're both looking forward to it. I forgot that we have a new co-host of this show. Oh. You guys, I'll have Logan, you know, add her to the...

To the carousel, I suppose. But her name is Pineapple. And she's a sunny angel. And she hangs out. She's a sunny angel hipper. And she hangs out on my computer. Yeah. And if you don't know what that is, look it up. And you're welcome.

Okay, moving away from small figurines of naked babies. That sounds so creepy. Uh-huh. What true horror claims have you chosen for us this week from those that our awesome listeners have sent in to mystoryatscaredtodeathpodcast.com? Yes. Well, Dan, I have a double feature haunted house situation this week. Oh, cool.

two very different kinds of haunted houses and the way that they show up and the interactions that the people in of this world interact with the entities of that world but i love them both and our second one also has a little video to go with it at the very end so make sure you pop on over to scared to death podcast on our instagram if you're on patreon it's there as well and you can see this little video and then facebook as well nice nice nice nice

My first of two stories comes from Council Bluffs, Iowa, a small city just across the Missouri River from Omaha, Nebraska. Omaha. Back in the 1970s, a man claims to have lived in a haunted home there and shares his experience. And then for my second story, we'll head to just outside Los Angeles to Tujunga Canyon.

to explore claims of alien abductions from that area. So once you've shared what spoopy socks you've got on today, I'll share my first paranormal encounter. Well, I asked for socks and thus they came. That's so nice. Ask and thou shall receive. I hope you get these before St. Patrick's Day. Love listening to the podcast. Stacey, parenthetical, chickens with mom. And then she listed website, chickenswithmom.com. I have no idea what that is. Like if it's pornographic, it's not my fault because I didn't look.

They did not arrive in time for St. Patrick's Day, but alas, they are here with me today. These funny little socks that say a wee bit Irish today with two chickens wearing green top hats. They're really funny. I really appreciate them. Thank you so much, Stacey.

Oh, that is awesome. The chickenswithmom.com. Is porn. No, it's a website of a lot of funny, like generally, well, maybe always chicken related merch. Funny. So just art like chicken related, like, you know, t-shirts, coffee mugs, I'm guessing socks, stickers. Super cute. That's funny. I think now it's coming back to me. I think that I've communicated with Stacey before or she has sent us something before. It's Stacey's website.

Yep. I just went to the about section and sure enough, there's Stacey. Yeah. And now it's feeling a bit familiar and maybe she looks familiar too. Oh, Stacey. Dan knows you. Very cool. Go support Stacey's chickens with mom.com. That's a very funny website. It's really funny. Okay. So I'm going to jump right in to this story. Here we go. Time now for the tale of the boy.

In Council Bluffs, Iowa, during the mid-1970s, there used to be this old, creepy house on South 7th Street, a crumbling Victorian that had been built sometime back in the 1800s. It might still be there. I moved out of the area in the 80s. So did my sister and both my parents, who lived there. They are no longer with us. The house was just a few blocks from Bayless Park and the Railroad Museum, if you know the area.

It was already rumored to be haunted and had been abandoned for I don't know how many years when my little sister Emily and me and our parents all moved in together. Why would anyone move into that house? You might wonder. In short, my dad loved Deal. My dad was a manufacturing systems specialist for this huge Tyson Foods production facility in town. Don't ask me exactly what his job entailed. Every time he ever tried to explain it to me, my eyes started to gloss over and my mind began to wander within seconds.

My dad was a very logical and a very stubborn guy. A no-nonsense, work-hard, worry-about-real-problems-in-the-real-world-not-some-campfire-tales-supernatural-hocus-pocus kind of bullshit man. He leaned on, and only on, things like science, numbers, and systems. I think that's why he loved baseball so much. The numbers. Batting averages, ERA, on-base percentages, etc. He could rattle those stats off for dozens of his favorite players at the drop of a dime.

He wasn't, as you might guess, a religious man. He was a stone-cold atheist, and he had absolutely zero use for the paranormal. To him, a house with a reputation for being haunted was not scary. It was appealing. It meant it could be snatched up for below market value, and my dad could make what he called, on at least one occasion, instant superstition equity. Fortunately for Emily and I, but especially for Emily, my mom was a little more open to things that couldn't be verified in a lab or studied on a spreadsheet or what have you.

The first month we lived in that house, I don't think anything obviously paranormal happened. Definitely not to me at least. And if anything happened to them right after moving in, Emily and my parents never said anything to me about it. Who knows with dad. But there was this feeling. I tried to chalk it up in my dad's urging to imagination that Emily and I and probably mom too only felt like the house was off because we had all been told it was off. The power of suggestion and all that.

So, of course, it felt like the house was alive, that we were being watched, because almost every kid at school and our neighbors, once people found out where we lived, freaked out and asked us if we'd seen any ghosts. And they kept telling us the house was alive. But looking back, I'm convinced it was a hell of a lot more than that. I think the house was watching us from day one, testing us, figuring out which one of us it wanted to target and how it wanted to hurt and poison us.

About a month after moving in was when I first heard Emily, who was only nine years old by the way, talking to someone down in the basement. I was 12. I couldn't make out what Emily was saying, but she was whispering and giggling and generally acting like she did when she had some friend over and they were telling each other secrets and gossiping about other kids. I thought at first that she was hanging out with some new friend from school who I just hadn't met yet, but I didn't hear a second voice.

When I started to walk down into the basement and called out to my sister, Emily's whispering and laughing stopped. By the time I could see her, she was already staring up at me, looking like she'd just been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. I shook my head and went back upstairs that time, thinking she was talking to herself, which I'd never heard her do before. At least not like that. But then it happened again and again, and it just kept happening. Mom and dad heard her doing it too. Dad was annoyed, but mom just laughed it off.

She talked to Emily about it, and Emily said that she'd met a little boy who had lived in the house for a long, long time. That creeped me out. Mom told me not to worry about it, that it was nothing more than an imaginary friend, that she'd had one when she was about Emily's age. But I didn't buy that. Something about her friend felt off to me. Why didn't her imaginary friend ever go to school with her? Why didn't she ever talk to her friend outside of the house, anywhere at all? How come they only ever seemed to chat in the basement?

Mom again told me not to worry about it that it was just a phase and that she would grow out of it Dad thought it was ridiculous. He couldn't relate. There's no way he had an imaginary friend when he was a kid He probably made charts or graphs or something instead of even playing with action figures of the like like a regular kid would But he also ultimately found it harmless At least initially I felt again like something was off and that feeling wouldn't go away It only grew with each passing day

I desperately wanted to catch Emily talking to her friend, a friend she only called the boy, when she didn't know I was around and watching. So one day, I snuck down into the basement after I got home from school, while Emily was still having her after-school snack, and I hid behind some old boxes, and I waited. About 15 or 20 minutes later, Emily came downstairs and sat down in front of some of her dolls and other toys she had brought down previously at some point.

Dad was planning on turning most of the basement into a big family room where her and I and our friends could play. And I imagined not be heard over the announcers for the Royals games he was watching. Pretty soon, I heard her whispering, boy, boy, don't you want to play? And then I heard something. It sounded like another voice speaking to her, but it was so quiet. I couldn't be sure. I heard Emily whisper something real quietly that I couldn't make out. And then she too was silent. Actually, the whole basement became silent in a very unnatural way.

I suddenly couldn't hear anything. Like, not anything at all. It was like all the noise, including the sounds of my own breathing or my heartbeat, had been sucked out of the room. I was still feeling uneasy and trying to understand what was happening when Emily scared the hell out of me. Why are you spying on me, Terry? The moment she'd started to speak, all the noise returned.

"'I wanted to see who you keep talking to,' I blurted out. "'He doesn't want to talk to you,' she fumed. "'Who? The boy?' I asked. "'Yeah, he doesn't like you,' she scowled, "'putting her hands on her hips in the same way her daughter does today. "'Why do you call him the boy? "'Why don't you give him a proper name?' I asked. "'You don't just give people names,' she snapped."

Why are you talking about him like he's a real person? He's not, I protested. Yes, he is, she yelled back. Then where is he? I asked. I already told you, she huffed. He doesn't want to talk to you, she repeated. Go away. When I tried to ask her more about him, she started yelling upstairs. Mom, Terry won't leave me alone. I went ahead and left the basement before my mom made me leave it. But I snuck back over to the door to the basement about 20 minutes later.

This time, instead of walking down, I only barely cracked it open and laid on the carpet in front of it on the main floor. I wanted to listen to what she was doing without having to be down there with her. Sure enough, soon she was talking to the boy again. And this time I heard him. I'll never forget it. My blood ran cold and chills covered my body. I distinctly heard another voice. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but I heard a voice that was definitely not my sister's. I started to yell down there.

Emily, who are you? Bam! The door slammed closed right in my face. And when I tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. I ran to go get my mom. When I led her back to the door, it opened easily. And Emily was downstairs happily talking to herself. Mom didn't believe me about the second voice. She told me to stop worrying about Emily and to just worry about myself. That night before we went to bed, I asked Emily about what had happened down there. Why she wouldn't tell mom that she was talking to the boy and she laughed.

When I asked what was so funny, she said, the boy wanted to play a trick on you. We got you good. Then while I was standing there silently staring at her, thinking of what to say next, she added, you better be nice to me, Terry. The boy said, if you're not, or if you try and get me to stop playing with him, he's going to teach you a lesson. After that little threat, she retreated to her room. If he had intended to scare me with that warning, it worked. I wasn't just concerned about the boy now. I was terrified. What kind of lesson could he teach me?

For the next few weeks, I was too afraid to intervene. I just watched as my little sister retreated down into the basement every day after school before dinner and then back down after dinner before bed. Dad was starting to get annoyed by it. I heard him tell mom he was worried that she was, quote, regressing socially. Mom reassured him, like she did me, that it was just a phase, that she probably developed her new friend to help her cope with the stress of moving into a new house, going to a new school where she didn't know anyone. Mom was still convinced that she'd grow out of it soon.

One day around that time, Emily told mom what the boy looked like. She said he was about her age or maybe a little older. He had dark hair, pale skin, and his clothes seemed a little out of place, like they didn't belong in the 1970s. She said he could be really funny and that sometimes he was sad, though, and missed his family, which was part of the reason she played with him so much, so he wouldn't be lonely. She also said he was a lot of fun, that he told her that she was the best friend he'd ever had and it made him so happy to play games with her.

But then as the weeks went on, Emily didn't seem to be having so much fun anymore. Her demeanor began to change. She didn't seem as excited as she initially had about heading to the basement. It seemed like she was doing it out of obligation. And then maybe out of fear. Finally, one day I heard them arguing. I still couldn't make out what he said, but I understood Emily perfectly when she yelled back, I won't do it. If you keep saying that, I won't play with you anymore. And then she started to stomp her feet towards them, towards and then up the stairs.

After that, like it had the previous time with me, the door slammed shut. But unlike the last time, Emily didn't think it was so funny. She started to scream. The door wouldn't open again and she was trapped downstairs. I ran and told mom and dad what had happened. Dad made it to the basement door first and opened it and it opened immediately for him. Emily burst out into the hallway when he swung the door open and she was crying. Dad now told her there would be no more talk of the boy and that the basement was off limits until further notice. Emily was hysterical.

She was bawling and saying stuff like, Dad, no! You don't want to make him mad! You don't know what he can do! He'll hurt us! Mom consoled her as best she could. Dad just sighed and rolled his eyes and went back to the living room to watch the news, I think. Mumbling something about how modern music and TV was rotting kids' brains. I listened to see if I could hear anything coming from the basement, to see if I could still hear the boy. I couldn't, but I could feel something. It kind of felt like it does when a storm is coming.

When you can see dark clouds forming in the sky and the air around you gets colder and feels charged, I wondered, what was he going to do next? The energy of the whole house began to shift that day. It started slowly, a misplaced object, a door creaking open on its own, but then soon, within just a few days, things escalated. Severely. I wonder if the boy, who I think was either very much connected to the house, or that the boy and the house were one and the same entity...

I think he or it spent those days powering up, gathering strength somehow. Once he was ready, it happened at night. We had all sat together in the living room, watching some made-for-TV movie, when we heard footsteps coming from above, heavy and deliberate. The sound echoed throughout the house, as though someone was walking across the floor of an empty room. My dad frowned and stood up after my mom asked him in a frightened voice if he thought that someone could have broken in. Emily said it was the boy, that he'd come to punish us.

I'll go check it out, Dad muttered after reminding Emily that she was not supposed to talk about the boy anymore. He walked off not looking nervous in the least, as if the sounds were nothing more than some sort of practical joke one of us was somehow coordinating. He made his way upstairs, checked out all the rooms, and when he didn't see anything out of place, he came back down. But when he started to watch the movie again, the sound returned. Dad now told us not to worry, that old houses make strange sounds, especially ones that needed some work, like our house did.

He just cranked up the volume on the TV and ignored the distinct sounds of footsteps that were still scaring the hell out of the rest of us. And then at some point, the sound went away, and that little episode that my dad refused to acknowledge was over. But then later that night, or I guess probably technically early the next morning, Emily woke up the whole house when she started to scream. My mom made it to her room first, and once my sister was able to talk and not just sob, I heard her say stuff like, "'He's mad at me! He hates me! He doesn't want us to live here now!'

Then I heard Dad say to Mom, God damn it, she might need to see a shrink now. I told you letting her play with an imaginary friend was a terrible idea. But her friend was anything but imaginary. I saw him for the first time the next night. I woke up in the middle of the night to him standing directly next to my bed. He looked like some kid from the 1800s or something. Like some dead kid. He was too pale. And something was wrong with his eyes. They were glossed over in this weird way. The way a corpse's eyes would look, I imagine.

He told me, if you won't leave, I'll have to hurt you. Right after he said that, I couldn't breathe. My chest got really tight. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I couldn't suck in any air. It felt like I didn't have any inside of me either. Like all the air had been sucked out of the room. And then he disappeared. And as soon as he did, the air came back and I cried out for my parents. Mom was worried. I wasn't easily scared as a kid. Dad was irritated.

He was convinced that the combination of other kids in the neighborhood and at school talking about the house being haunted and Emily having an imaginary friend and then freaking out about him had gotten us all worked up. He told us that there would absolutely be no more talk of ghosts or anything else supernatural. That if he heard another word about it, whoever said it was getting grounded. He wanted us to start playing outside more and insisted we find something to do in the yard or ride our bikes or go down to the park to play basketball or something once we got home from school.

But then the following night at dinner, Emily broke down crying at the table. She said she didn't care if she got grounded for talking about him, that she had to tell us that the boy was going to hurt us, that he called out to her to come down to the basement right when she got home from school. She said when she didn't, he showed up in her room, locked her in and sucked all the air out so she couldn't breathe. She said he wanted us all to leave and that if we didn't, he might take the air out of the whole house for long enough to kill us all.

That was it. Dad had really had it now. He slammed his fist down on the table and told her to knock it off. He said he was done listening to all this nonsense about ghosts and imaginary friends. He told her that we were not leaving the house, so she had better make peace with her new school and her new surroundings, etc., etc., and then suddenly, before he could get to the part about grounding her or whatever, the lights flickered and went out.

Directly after that, we all clearly heard footsteps. Loud, angry footsteps coming up from the basement. It sounded like someone was stomping their way up the stairs. Emily started screaming, He's coming for us! He's coming for us, Daddy! Dad got up from the table and said something to the effect of, Everyone stay right here. I don't know what's going on, but it's no goddamn ghost. Then he stormed off towards the basement, and a few seconds later, the weird silence from the first time I heard the boy returned.

All the noise in the house was turned off for maybe 30 seconds, maybe even a minute. I tried to talk. I watched my mom and sister try to talk, but no sound came out of their mouths. No sound came out of my mouth. I started to get so scared I thought I was going to begin hyperventilating. And then suddenly all the noise came back like someone had flipped a switch. As my dad came running into the room gagging and coughing and red-faced like he'd just been choking. He screamed, "'Everybody out! Everybody outside!'

We all popped up from the table and ran out the front door with dad yelling at us to hurry the whole time before he ran out behind us. We stayed in a hotel across the river in Omaha that same night and for the next week or so worth of nights after that. Dad never told us what happened when he left the dining room that night and headed towards the basement. I'm not even sure he ever told mom, but I know he saw that boy and that that boy scared the ever loving shit out of him. Based on how he looked and how he was breathing, I have to think the boy sucked all the air out of him for a bit.

We never went back into that house. Dad hired a moving company to gather up all of our stuff, and we moved into some other house in Omaha that we rented for about six months, while Dad sold the house in Council Bluffs and then bought some other place. He sold the place for a loss, which really chapped his ass for the rest of his life. Dad still said he didn't believe in ghosts or any of that hocus-pocus bullshit after that, but he didn't say it with as much conviction, and he wouldn't watch horror movies anymore. He said it was because he thought they were all so stupid.

but we know it was because he was too scared now. For the rest of his life, whenever he was asked why he rushed out of that house and sold it for a loss, he would say it was because his damn superstitious kids and wife were driving him bonkers, and he was afraid he was going to completely lose his mind if he had to endure one more night of their screaming and hearing them cry about weird, vengeful spirits. But the rest of us knew that was not true.

He left that house because he was scared. Scared of the ghost he saw. But also, I think, scared of how seeing that ghost, if he thought about it too much, would force him to rethink all of his beliefs regarding what's possible in this world and beyond. That's so fucking scary. Yeah.

The whole air thing. Oh, my God. I know. That is panic-inducing. It makes me wonder if the little boy died in a fire or something. Just like how all the oxygen gets sucked out by the smoke. Yeah. Or gets hampered down by it. But...

God, that is like such like classic dad story. Uh-huh. It was so great. It's so well told of like, yep, I'll have none of this bullshit. You know, just like that version of a dad. And then for him to be like,

still unable to admit it all these years later, but you know that he knows damn fucking well what happened. Right, right. That's a good story. Oh, thanks. Yeah, I liked it too. Yeah, it was a good find. I have a few pictures. Great. None of these were associated with the story, by the way, but I did look on some real estate websites for some old spooky looking Victorian homes in downtown Council Bluffs.

Have you ever been to Council Bluffs? I have, but a long time ago when I would like work Omaha, the club. Sometimes I remember going with the staff like to some little like bars they liked in Council Bluffs. And I might have went there and did a show once with maybe even Larry the Cable Guy so many years ago. It feels like such a familiar name of a city. I've never been there. So I was like trying to figure out what my connection was. Yeah, just a sister city to Omaha. I mean, just right across the river. Yeah, yeah.

Kind of like Lewis and Clarkson situation. But yeah, this is a house 136 South 7th Street. That's a scary house. Uh-huh. It's an old from the 1800s. Well, I don't know that it's scary so much as it just looks old and needs some work. And it has like a weird faux stucco paint job on the outside. This is an odd choice for a Victorian house. Well, it might be stucco. It might be that like...

Maybe it once had the proper wooden paneling and then that came off and then someone couldn't afford to... Totally. Maybe this was an inexpensive fix for something that was going on. But yeah, it is a weird combination of materials on that house. This is just the same thing from another angle, a little more close up. Yeah, maybe that is stucco. Yeah, I guess it probably is. Yeah, I don't know. I don't want to sound ignorant here, but I don't know what goes underneath stucco.

Like when I think of siding on a house, I think of like aluminum siding, which is what we had on my house growing up or vinyl siding. Our house is wooden, I guess siding. I guess you still call it siding. But what is underneath that? Because that's what I imagine being underneath siding.

Yeah, it's like, I mean, I only have knowledge from like houses I worked on with my dad years ago. Yeah. I believe it was called OSB. It's like this compressed, it's like plywood, essentially. I can't think of the exact difference. Maybe chemically treated to make like all the little wood particles that have been compressed into these big rectangular shapes stick together to be more solid. Yeah. But it'll be like, it

It'll be that. So there's like two by fours. Yeah. And things that are the framing. And then you put this OSB or whatever, this plywood on the outside of that. Uh-huh. And then there's some kind of like weather wrap you often put on too, like a plastic layer. Uh-huh. And then over that goes the siding or whatever. Okay. So it wouldn't look like that.

Because in my mind, I was thinking like, oh, you would have like, you know, the framing and then some sort of like plywood type material that would make it smooth and flat. And then I was thinking you would put some sort of like texture or something to kind of like a spray that would like fill in all the holes and gaps. I was thinking about like essentially insulation. Yeah, I don't know how stucco works. So because I never did that. So maybe. I don't know. And then. What in God's name is going on in here? I know. So this is the basement from that house. It does have a big basement. Is that a tree growing up in the house? I don't.

I know. It's very weird. It does look like in the corner of the basement room here, it's just this creepy old basement room. It looks like part of a tree that's somehow grown, but I don't know because those are pipes above. It's very odd. Well, and then also it doesn't go all the way to the ground. It might just be some goop. It's on a ledge. I don't know, but it's weird. I'm like, what the hell is that? I would not like to encounter that. Me either. It creeps me out. I don't even know why. I don't even know what it is. Can you zoom in again?

Yeah, it's very strange. Very strange. In a way, it almost looks like they were, okay, were they trying, dare I say, were they trying to make it like cool that the pipe was coming through the ceiling and that's just like a painted, like a faux tree. Maybe. And then somebody never really finished the whole. Yeah, maybe actually. It's really weird.

And then this next one is just a larger shot. It's a pretty big basement. That's a big-ass house. Uh-huh. Yeah. And that's the same house that we were seeing from the outside? So maybe this house or something like this house is where the boy was supposedly encountered? The boy. That boy's creepy as shit. Mm-hmm. I don't like him. No. He's got issues. I did love in the beginning when Terry was talking about the dad's job and saying, you

you know, I don't know, my dad tried to explain it to me so many times and my eyes would just gloss over. That is every kid about every parent's job. Oh, that's fair. That's true. Even if you have an inherently interesting job, they're just like, whatever. We have a cool job. The kids do not give a shit about podcasting. They...

rarely listen, if at all. And then when they talk to us about like podcasts that they might be listening to, they say to us, like, we don't even know what a podcast is. I know. I love that. It's really funny. Kyler went through a phase of being into standup years ago. Oh my God. And it would drive me crazy, but I was just like, whatever. I forgot about this. And he would bring up standup comics as if I had never heard of standup comedy before.

And he'd be like, have you heard of this person? And I'd be like, yes! I've met them. I've worked with them. Like, you forget. And he wasn't impressed by that. Nope. Nope. It was never cool that you knew anybody. No. And he'd be like, oh, this is like a cool special. I'm like, yeah, I know. I have specials. I think...

I think one of the first ones was like John Mulaney or something. It was like, buddy. We did our first TV spots together years ago. Or like Ryan Hamilton. It was somebody very, and we were like, buddy, where have you been? And then he would want to like break down the mechanics of the joke. Oh my God. That was my favorite is when he would explain how standup comedy worked to me. And he's like, and I'd have to stop. I'm like, dude, I know, I know how comedy works. And then I think there was a while where he maybe even tried to tell you that you didn't need to swear in your comedy.

Maybe. I don't remember that, but it's very possible. Because I think it was like he was watching like Ryan or John. One of them is like, well, Ryan is definitely incredibly clean. I think John airs on the cleaner side. Yeah, for the most part. And oh God, it was just so funny. It's like, hey buddy, it's called like different styles, different genres. He was not having it. Parents don't know anything. Exactly. And I know it doesn't matter how cool your job is. Your kid doesn't give a shit what you do. So you can work for Tyson Foods or you can be a podcaster and your kid doesn't fucking care. Yep. Yep.

Are you ready to leave Iowa and head to Southern California? Oh, yeah. Before we move on to more scares, we need to take a quick in-between story sponsor break. This show is sponsored by BetterHelp. Investing in oneself is often at the bottom of the monthly budget. You can probably come up with about a million other things to spend money on. Projects around the house, a vacation, groceries, childcare. There are a lot of things that we both need and want that we place above our mental health.

So true. We do all sorts of things to try and make ourselves feel better. We go shopping, we go out to eat, to a movie, dive into big house projects, all with the thought that once we do that or buy this, we'll feel so much better. And while we do get those dopamine hits from spending money, it doesn't last. So why don't we try to make ourselves feel better?

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Okay, in March of 1953, so going back a few years now, two young women were sleeping in their cabin in Tujunga Canyon, only about 30 minutes north of downtown Los Angeles, when they claimed they were awakened by a bright light streaming in through their windows.

And then after an inexplicable time loss. That's a tough combo. Inexplicable. After an inexplicable. You nailed it. Good job. It's just because you're reading it. If you were saying it, you would crush it. After an inexplicable. Okay. Time loss. This pair of women came to believe they had been abducted by aliens. Time now for the tale of the Tujunga Canyon Contacts.

That claim from March of 1953 was the first in what would be a series of UFO sightings that became known as the Tujunga Canyon Contacts, and it's one of the earliest modern abduction stories. The case was covered extensively in the 1980 book The Tujunga Canyon Contacts by Ann Druffle and D. Scott Rogo, and written in the book's preface, or as written in the book's preface, the Tujunga Close Encounter Cases, about which this book is written, occurred between 1953 and 1975.

They are puzzling examples of UFO interaction with human witnesses. Spawning as they did from an area of California where UFO incidents of all sorts have been reported for decades, these absorbing cases present an added puzzle that seems unique even in this uncertain field. They seem to involve an actual epidemic of UFO contacts and suggest that there might have been some kind of contagious element at work. The authors change the names of the witnesses for privacy reasons.

The most well-known Tujunga encounter occurred in the early morning hours of March 22, 1953, the one I've already referenced. Sarah Shaw and Jan Whitley were two women in their early 20s. They were in a romantic relationship and lived in an isolated cabin together in Tujunga Canyon, a rugged, sparsely populated area with few cabins and homes, especially back then. Sarah and Jan enjoyed being alone in nature and away from curious and judgy neighbors. Privacy was, not surprisingly, important to them.

A lot of people still aren't very accepting of lesbian relationships today, and tolerance was in even shorter supply back in the 50s. Sarah was the first to be woken up by bright lights flooding the women's cabin that night. As written by Druffle and Rogo, Suddenly the night sound ceased. A deathly stillness, so thick that it was itself, like an unknown sound, descended over the forest. The stillness combined with a sudden illuminating glow of light awakened Sarah.

Frightened, she knelt on the pillows and looked out the large window at the head of the bed. She didn't quite know what, but she could sense something was wrong. A strange bright light was sweeping back and forth across their yard. Try as she might, Sarah couldn't locate the source. For a few moments, she worried it might be the headlights of members of a motorcycle gang trying to cause trouble. But the color was off. The light was blue instead of a warm yellow. Sarah checked the clock and saw it was 2 a.m.,

At that moment, quote, a strange giddiness, a sense of loss and confusion overcame her. Then when she looked at the clock again, she realized 20 minutes had passed in what felt like an instant. She spoke to Jan, who she now noticed had also been woken up by the strange light and who had gone to the closet to get a robe. Jan, yelled Sarah. Do you know what you've been? Do you know that you've been standing there for 20 minutes? Jan was confused. So was Sarah.

Sarah now realized that she was no longer kneeling on the bed near the window. She was seated on the edge of the bed with her bare feet on the floor, but she had no memory of having moved to where she now found herself. And then she realized the blue light was gone. She checked the clock again. It was no longer 2.20 a.m., but 4.20 a.m. She had now somehow lost over two more hours of time. Sarah was terrified. What would happen next? How much more time would she lose? Where would she find herself in a few more hours?

She was panicking. The air felt so thick she couldn't take a breath. Jan tried to calm her down, but she was also panicking. She'd also lost at least two hours. She tried to think of a logical answer, and she couldn't, other than the terrifying possibility that their heating system was emitting deadly carbon monoxide. She checked said heating system and felt satisfied there was not a gas leak, but was still utterly confused, as was her partner.

Then she found the couple's dog and cat both sitting near the stove, quote, oddly quiet, almost as though drugged or hypnotized. Although the light had vanished, the two women were still afraid. And they decided to leave the cabin and go stay with Jan's foster parents who lived just a few miles away. Then as Jan departed the cabin, quote,

She saw a vaporous something superimposed or standing against the dark green leaves. The apparition distinctly showed the hand and shoulders of a long-haired personage, but the features were dim, composed only of light and shadow. It would take Jan and Sarah two full days to feel safe enough to return, and when they did, they still felt uneasy. When they came back, they brought their friend Emily and their closest neighbor Jack with them. Jack was an elderly man with self-reported psychic abilities.

Sarah later recalled, as we walked toward the cabin, Jack felt immediately that there were strong vibes around the place, as if some mysterious force had been there and its influence was still being felt. We could feel them too. Jack might have been quite a character. The strange vibes went away after six days, and then Sarah and Jan continued to remain in the cabin. They talked to their neighbors over the coming days and asked if they too had seen anything strange, but no one had any information.

A short time later, Sarah broke up with Jan, and then she ended up cutting off all contact with her. Not sure what led to that. Sarah went to school to become a dental assistant, got a job in a hospital, and learned more about the medical field. She didn't think her new interest in medicine was related to her experience in Tujunga Canyon until one day two years after her strange experience in 1955. As Sarah later recalled, "...I saw vividly in my mind a cure for cancer."

It disturbed me because the curative agent was a common household substance probably available in every kitchen in the country. I knew that this ingredient was being deliberately shown to me by someone or something unknown. I was compelled to spread this knowledge amongst physicians and researchers seeking a cure for cancer. I saw a malignant tumor in a human body, a disagreeable cheesy mass. I visualized the ingredient being swabbed onto the cancer and saw it shrink as its growth diminished and the body cured.

She wanted to share what she knew with everyone, but something inside her told her to keep the secret until she found the right doctor. She felt she would know it when she heard their name. Sarah eventually left her job as a dental hygienist and started working as a coroner's secretary. Then she got married to a man and lived a conventional lifestyle for the time period. Meanwhile, Jan went on to have a successful career with an engineering and architectural firm. She also survived a scare with breast cancer and underwent a double mastectomy. And she too felt haunted in a sense by what she and Sarah had experienced.

For over 20 years, Sarah remained intensely curious about what had happened to her and Jan in March of 1953. Then on August 5th, 1975, Sarah called author Ann Druffle and said she'd been looking for the right source to report a UFO experience. At the time, Ann was project coordinator of the UFO Information Filter Center, Skynet. She'd been investigating UFO reports since 1957.

and had become interested in UFOs way back in 1945, when she was still just a girl. One summer's night, she claimed she saw a bright yellow object in the sky over Long Beach. She reported that she and her mother saw it, actually, and watched the object slowly travel west for over an hour before it released 15 to 20 smaller, shiny objects that began traveling in various directions. According to Ann's obituary, she passed away in 2020,

her sighting occurred on the same day that the first experimental atom bomb exploded in new mexico and would later join the mutual ufo network network move on as an investigator and the center for ufo or as an investigator at the center for ufo studies during that first phone call and explained to anne that her experience happened 22 years earlier but she had recently seen a ufo documentary and it made her question her time lapse

This made Anne think of the famous case of Betty and Barney Hill, who also experienced a lapse in time, and remembered details of their alien abduction under hypnotic regression. Anne instructed Sarah to contact Idabel Epperson, the director of the Mutual UFO Network, and Sarah, at Idabel's suggestion, agreed to undergo hypnotic regression because she wanted to understand what had happened to her. She met with Anne Druffle and Idabel for the first time on August 7, 1975. Jan Whitley was also present for this meeting.

Sarah recounted the details she remembered, the bright lights, the disorientation of missing time, the strange apparition Jan saw as they left the cabin. Sarah, so unusual, described it as a benevolent figure, similar to a depiction of Jesus. She also explained her vision for a cure for cancer. During the meeting, Jan discussed the doctor who treated her for her breast cancer. When she said his name, Dr. Relini, Sarah had a revelation. She now believed he was the one she needed to give the cure information to.

This revelation was the deciding factor for Ann Druffle to follow through with the project. She believed, as wildly strange as their claim was, that both women were being truthful. Sarah's first hypnotic regression session took place on December 5th, 1975. It was led by Dr. Martin Reeser, founder of the LAPD's Behavioral Sciences Services. It started off with Sarah recounting the same memories she'd already shared, and then Sarah unlocked a new memory. While hypnotized, she suddenly said, somebody's coming towards us.

It's somebody walking. Wow, I know someone's walking. They're walking. They're coming in the yard. Sarah struggled to recall everything at once. Rather, she remembered different vivid moments from the night, such as a bunch of people suddenly came into the house. They've got their arms on me and Jan. They've got their hands on my arms. They're so shadowed. It looks like they're wearing almost like a black ski mask.

She remembered Jan struggling against the beans, and she remembered seeing a large UFO near a stream. It resembled the planet Saturn, round with a rimmed platform. Sarah described floating up towards the ship as if she was on an invisible conveyor belt. Sarah was then able to describe more details about the ship and the abductors, saying, There's a long, narrow door. Very tall, very skinny. They just glide in and out that door. They're so skinny and just glide in. Our shoulders are too big for the door.

She recalled Jan struggling against the beans, who took them as they tried to lift up her pajama top. Throughout her regression sessions, Sarah would describe how the entities were interested in Jan's breasts. Jan was distressed by this and fought them off until they gave up, and Jan eventually calmed down as if she had been sedated. Sarah described the interior of the ship as a dome with an instrument panel on one wall. A transparent wall divided the lower half of the ship into two sections.

Sarah recalled being suspended over a table and examined by the aliens with an anvil-shaped device. Afterwards, they physically examined her. She was naked, but no one actually touched her. They did seem to be fascinated by a large scar she had from a lung surgery and other smaller scars on her body. She knew Jan was being examined in a different room. Although she wasn't touched, she recalled, "...they're like numbering, putting a number or something on my back, invisibly. I mean, they're putting an invisible number on us."

She described the symbol as a tattoo underneath the skin, that it looks similar to the number four. Throughout the experience, Sarah said she was never in pain, didn't feel any fear. She was instead curious and tranquil. She didn't speak to them, not like she would speak to another person, but she said she was able to communicate telepathically, that the aliens did not use language as we understand it, but instead sent their commands as ideas or suggestions. Sarah explained, saying, quote,

Just like, for example, when Jan was struggling and that they were and they were trying to get her to simmer down. They didn't say it in words, in our kinds of words. There was no sound coming out. As a matter of fact, I can't really picture a mouth on them, but I have the feeling the impression that the mouth is under their black body stocking. But there's no sign of it. But they certainly make their point. You just know what they want. You know what they want you to do.

Under hypnosis, Sarah recalled feeling the urge to explore other areas of the ship before her memory jumped ahead to her and Jan leaving the ship. They were then instructed to forget what happened, and apparently until being hypnotized, they did. The team interviewed Jan next in September of 1975. Jan only remembered the bright light, missing time, and the strange apparition, but she did not recall any details of going onto the ship or of being examined.

However, while she couldn't recall additional details, she did reveal that since 1956, she'd been experiencing vivid recurring nightmares that felt all too real. The nightmares always started with a high pitched ringing that grew stronger and stronger until she felt like she was paralyzed. Jan said during the high pitched sound and paralysis, I'd get the impression that a whole group of somethings were in the room. I'd hear them in my head asking me to come with them.

I'd have to fight against them mentally, telling them I didn't want to go, but that I was just going to stay right here and be me. Jen was unable to describe what the beans looked like or what they wanted from her. Jen then agreed to undergo hypnotic regression as well, but it was ultimately unsuccessful. She was unable to remember anything clearly besides the light, a few images, and a sense of missing time. Sarah agreed to undergo a second hypnotic regression session.

She remembered additional details after the examination, such as the aliens crowding her and Jan, leading them through a hall to the kitchen area. She was also able to remember more about the aliens' physical appearance. She described one as having an elongated, egg-shaped head. It was wearing a tight black bodysuit. Quote, it's as if he were sprayed with a can of flocking, as if he were wearing a coat of flocking.

She added,

Sarah said that the bodysuit was a form of thermal insulation against the Earth's atmosphere. After the first meeting, Sarah tried to contact Dr. Eleni to reveal the supposed cure for cancer. It took several weeks before she could schedule a meeting with him, and it didn't take place until February of 1976. Dr. Eleni gave her permission to record the meeting for accurate record-keeping, and she revealed that the cure for cancer was vinegar.

To Sarah's shock, Dr. Alini seemed unsurprised and informed her that vinegar, especially apple cider vinegar, had long been considered a folk remedy for cancer treatment. Dr. Alini also surprised her by revealing that a local man had come to him claiming he also received the cure for cancer after coming into contact with a UFO. And just like Sarah, he also believed that vinegar was the cure.

Dr. Alini additionally informed Sarah that he had even experimented by adding vinegar to his cancer patient's nutrition plan, but that it hadn't had much effect. Sarah explained how in her vision the vinegar was swabbed onto the cancer. Dr. Alini told her that based on their current knowledge, it was believed that cancer thrived in an alkaline medium. So by making the environment acidic, yeah, it might actually hinder its growth. He seemed unsure, though, about how one would swab vinegar onto internal cancer.

But he told Sarah he would consider it, and that in the meantime, he would practice swabbing skin cancer with vinegar in addition to Western medical treatments. When Sarah returned home and tried to listen to the tape of the meeting, she discovered none of it was audible. However, Sarah and Dr. Alini kept in contact over the next two years. And he allegedly informed Sarah that he did swab skin cancer with vinegar and had some success, he thought, with his patients, but that it was used in combination with other treatments.

Sarah decided to undergo a third regression session to see if she could remember more details about the supposed cure for cancer. And that took place October 22nd, 1978. Sarah was able to recall the revelation the entities gave her about cancer, saying, "...there's no need for people to die of cancer. It's so simple. They don't have to die. There's no need for that."

Earth people make a big thing out of it. It's so easy. It's just like, like moss, like stuff growing. You brush it with acetyl, acetyl, acetylic acid. You have it in your kitchen. You just put that right on the cheesy growth. You can put it right in, inject, you put a tube in like and pour it right in. The word she was looking for there was acetic. She explained that the vinegar would eventually dissolve the cancer.

Sarah was asked why she was given that cure and answered, they said I was important, even before I became human. Like where I lived before, I was a body technician. I developed internal replacement parts for all parts of the body, made out of something like plastic. They told me about it in this room with the chairs. They knew I'd understand about the cancer cure because I had been a body technician. Ann Druffle thought this was significant that Sarah received information about a cure for cancer as Jan had survived breast cancer.

Sadly, though, Jan's cancer would return years later and she would die from it in 1987. While researching the March 22, 1953 incident, Ann Druffle discovered additional UFO counters in the Tujunga Canyon area. She noticed that Jan was somehow the nexus for these other contacts. All the women who reported UFO encounters in the area were all connected to Jan somehow, and yet Jan herself could never seem to recover any significant memories. Jan and Sarah's sexuality was also apparently part of the alien investigation.

Druffle noted that in many abduction cases, the extraterrestrials were interested in studying reproduction and sex, and that the beings who abducted Anne and Sarah were interested in examining, quote, non-reproductive lifestyles. In her book, Druffle describes the region where the sightings took place as a window area, or an area that attracts an unusual amount of unexplainable phenomena.

There were numerous reports of rotorless helicopters, white orbs in the sky, and other sorts of UFOs in the Tujunga Canyon area in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s. Interestingly, although the original Tujunga Canyon account predates the infamous Barney and Betty Hill abduction, very few people seem to know about it. This could be because the entities the women encountered were not violent, malicious, or otherwise frightening.

Also, all of the women involved in the abductions were part of the queer community and likely felt forced to hide the truth about their sexuality for their own safety at the time these encounters allegedly happened. Another theory is that it wasn't until the late 60s and early 70s that there were enough abduction reports for Sarah to have had enough context for what happened for her to seek help. And by then, there were so many other stories out there that hers might have just gotten lost in the shuffle.

the Tujunga Canyon contacts remain one of the most mysterious and little-known cases of alien abduction in modern history.

That's fascinating. Yeah. Just a different kind of alien abduction story. So weird. I mean, the apple vinegar thing. I was over here trying to hold my laughter. It was a little ridiculous, but yeah, but I mean. Okay. Okay. But also like, okay, what do we know about ACV? Like we should take it every day. It's good for like. A lot of people do swear by it for a variety of things. Oh yeah. I mean, it's absolutely great for you. Gut health, you know, you know, acid reflux. People say it helps with like brain clarity. Like

sometimes there are things that we can take or do like, okay, right now, like mushrooms, everyone's talking about mushrooms. Yeah. Like I'm not talking about the fun, uh, you know, but cordyceps, you know, it's like they, they help our brain function better, you know, lines main ashwagandha, you know, helps with digestion, uh, sleep, brain function, uh, period health. I mean, there's so many things. I think that,

Sometimes what happens, this is just a throwing it out there kind of thought, science is so incredible. And we make these amazing advances like printing 3D organs and things that we can't, which comically kind of comes up in this. Like I was a body technician and I made new, yeah. So it's like, I think sometimes what happens just in general is,

in this world is technology goes so fast that we get so far removed from basics. Oh yeah. You know, so it's like very simple. It's like, if you go back to like, if you go to a, if you know, Native American or American Indian people, and they can tell you like, oh, you know, like the shamans, the, the medicine men and women. Yeah. This root. This, right. This compound, we can make this salve, you know, we can do all these things. I don't, it's, it's,

I believe it is a result of like, that's all they had. And then we zoom all the way to 2025 and we're like, fuck that. We don't need all these like natural cures. I can just give you a shot. I can give you a pill. I believe it's something in the middle, a little bit of this and a little bit of that, but we get so far removed and we just want a quick fix. Of course, I don't feel well. I just want to take, you know, azithromycin. I, you know, I want a quick, fast fix. And

It does work most times, but sometimes there's other ways to treat it if we're slower, if we're patient. So it's like, it was interesting. And also the ACV thing, apple cider vinegar, just had me thinking about that show. Oh, yes, which is very good. Very good. If you're looking for something completely not paranormal, but just like, it's almost like a juicy gossipy, like what in God's name? Based on a true story. Oh my God. About kind of influencer grifters in the new agey space and specifically in the

I can cure you with this if you follow my diet kind of space. Oh, yeah. Coffee enemas. And there are. And there could be like, you know, like someday doctors could find out, oh, my God, this one element of apple cider vinegar. It was there the whole time. Yes. And we did figure out how to extract it. Sure. Beef it up. And it does cure X, Y and Z. Sure.

And also we may not, you know, so everything is, is grain of salt. I mean, this is something they'll say about like chemo and radiation. It's not the chemo. It's not the radiation that kills a person. It's how broken down their system is afterwards that they can't fight off infection. And then they basically die from being in the hospital and being around infection. So again, like a little bit of this and a little bit of that, but it was really funny when she said vinegar, I was like, you gotta be fucking kidding me. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I have a few pictures that actually do accompany this tale. This first one, this is just, well, go along with it, obviously. This is a portion of Tujunga Canyon today. For the longest time of the story, I was thinking of Topanga Canyon in Malibu. But no, this is the one north of Burbank in the San Fernando Valley. Yep. Yeah, the base of the San Gabriel Mountains. I've been there so many times. Yeah, hiking and stuff. Yeah. Mostly filming. Oh, filming. Yeah. Okay. Yeah.

This next one, another view of the canyon with some of Sarah's drawings from an article about these supposed abductions from LAist.com. Oh, yeah. Yeah.

And then this is a closer view of one of Sarah's drawings. Yeah. I mean, that's kind of like what we generally think of when we think of these aliens is, you know, an elongated head, two slits for eyes, sometimes a mouth, sometimes not a mouth. Yeah. No ears. And then finally just, uh, her drawing of that Saturn like spacecraft. She said she saw, I mean,

And it is wild. The classic UFO spacecraft. Right. And it is wild that every person that I've ever, well, I've never encountered a person who thinks they've seen something. But when we hear these stories, read these stories, the shape of the UFO and the shape of the alien is always the same. Is that because at some point we learned that and so that's what comes forward? That's what a skeptic would say is power of suggestion. Yeah. And just like, well, the first reports framed it in that way in the modern world, like from like the late 40s and stuff.

And then other people, you know, just happened to see, quote unquote, the same thing because subconsciously they'd already seen pictures of it. But also like is that so is that why like the hat man appears the same to everybody? Again, skeptics would say that too. Skeptics would say that about all the paranormal stuff. Sure, sure. Why do why the poltergeists seem to replicate the same kind of behavior? Well, because power of suggestion, because, you know, that's where people heard about it.

doing those things. Yeah. And then it just followed suit. They would say that about like, you know, footsteps in the attic. Why is that a common thing? Well, because people think they hear that because somebody else told them they heard that. But also you could use all those same arguments to show that there's truth there. That's what I think. It cuts both ways. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Because also, I mean, you could just like apply that to like life, you know, it's like, well, why do people,

why do people do this same thing over and over? And it's like, because we just do. Yeah, because it's the most logical thing to do, because it's kind of like an instinct. The most obvious, the most straightforward. The scariest thing about that entire story to me was the loss of time. Just the thought of losing two hours of my life

And having no recollection of like how I got from lying down in my bed to sitting at the foot of my bed to kneeling under a window. Yeah. Just sort of this like staccato of like, you're over here and then now you're over here. Now you're over here. The fuck? Yep. That would wreck me. Yeah. No, that would mess with my head. Yes, as well. I would immediately believe that I was experiencing some sort of psychotic break or at the beginning of like dementia, Alzheimer's, you know, some sort of...

Mental disorder. Yeah. Yeah. Wow, wow, wow. All right. Well, me and Sunny Angel Pineapple are ready to tell you a few stories. Okay. Do you have a Layla that is also? I have a black Layla. Oh, my God. What if they made a squishy Sunny Angel? I don't know. Oh, boy. Okay. All right. Let's hop into our first haunted house tale.

Hey, Dan and Lindsay. Hello. Love the show. Appreciate all that you both do to give us great content each week without fail. The weekly escape from my life is really helpful. A while back, I went through a really painful breakup with someone I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, who also listens here. So, you know, keep me anonymous, please. And your show gave me a little escape from the heartache. Well, it was an escape until things went wrong. Let me explain.

Time now for the tale of A Cold Touch in the Dark. It was fall sometime when I first encountered the ghost, and I can still remember the exact moment like it happened yesterday. The air outside had grown crisp. You know those first days of fall that bring with it the kind of chill that seeps into your bones even with the jacket on? It was like that.

I had kind of recently moved into a small cottage on the outskirts of town. The place had charm, old-fashioned, quiet, and far away from the hustle and bustle of the life I had known in the city with my ex. It was just what I thought I needed, a place to find some peace after my shocking and not at all amicable breakup. This cottage was meant to be my perfect escape, my place to reflect and rebuild."

The cottage was centuries old, with creaking floorboards, cabinet doors that were always a little bit off-kilter, and chipping paint everywhere. But I didn't care. The previous owner was an elderly woman named Mrs. Whitmore, who had lived there alone for several years before passing away.

The little cottage was her favorite place, they told me. She moved here after her wife passed away to finish out her days in a happy place, they told me. Her death had been peaceful, they told me. Still, there was something about this place that never quite felt right. At first, I shrugged it off as my own imagination running wild, or maybe the fact that I was living in a really old home, away from people, when I was used to a super slick modern apartment in the city. Or...

Maybe it was that I wasn't used to living alone after five-plus years of living with someone whom I thought I would marry. Anyways, the place was charming but also unnerving, even in the daylight.

On the night of the encounter, I had been reading a book in the living room. I had started a fire in the fireplace and poured one hell of a glass of wine and was curled up on the couch trying to keep myself from doom-scrolling my ex's social media, where I had been promptly replaced by someone who appeared to be a cheap knockoff of me. I digress. The only sound in the room besides the occasional gust of wind outside was the fire crackling.

I had just turned the page when a soft whisper echoed from somewhere nearby. It was kind of faint, so faint I nearly dismissed it. I paused, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up, and I listened. Nothing. I shook my head. It had to have been the wind or the house settling or my mind playing tricks on me.

But then it came again. And this time it was clearer. It was soft, almost melodic. It was like someone was speaking just out of earshot. My heart quickened and I stood up. My legs felt like lead, heavy with fear. I strained to see into the dark corners of the room, the only light that came from the flickering flames of the fire.

The silence quickly returned, but something felt different, like the air was full of electricity, or like a storm was brewing. Shaking it off, finding ways to blame my ex for this too, I decided to head to bed. As I made my way up the narrow staircase, the house seemed to exhale, the wooden floorboards groaning under the weight of my feet.

When I reached the second floor hallway, the chill in the air was more obvious. The feeling wasn't new to me. I had had many nights here that felt peculiar. But something about tonight felt... colder? More... obvious? Dare I say... aggressive? I turned the handle on my bedroom door at the far end of the hall, shivering. My room was blanketed in soft moonlight pushing through the curtains. Something was off. Things felt too still.

Was someone watching me? I wondered. I mean, that's how it felt.

My eyes darted around, half expecting to see a reflection in the old antique mirror across from the bed, but there was nothing there. Oh, did I mention that my ex kept all of our possessions and that this cottage came fully furnished? I didn't want the memories that went with those things that my ex kept anyways.

The whispering sound from before had returned. It was faint, but persistent, like something calling out to me, but it was just on the edge of my hearing. My skin prickled, and an overwhelming sense of dread took my breath away. I gasped as a cold gust of wind whipped across the back of my neck. I raced to shut the window, but it was already closed. Of course it was. It was fall, and it was cold outside. I wouldn't have opened a window on a day like today.

I froze in place, not knowing what to do. I didn't have any neighbors. I lived outside of the city limits. And now this was part of the deal. I was all on my own. This is what I had wanted, right? I couldn't explain away the strange energy I felt I was connecting to. The whispering was growing louder. And now it was like a soft chant. Rhythmic. Steady. The weight of the room grew heavier still. Who?

Who's there? I whispered, my voice trembling. I felt so foolish. I mean, what did I think was going to happen next? No answer. Of course. The room grew even colder. I reached for the light switch, but the electricity flickered as the lights sputtered and then went out completely. Darkness swallowed me and my bedroom all at once. And then a voice, clear as day, spoke from behind me. Leave this place.

I froze. The voice had been faint, but there was no doubt what I had heard. Shivers raced up and down my spine, and I quickly spun around to face whomever was there, but the room remained empty. Still, it felt oppressive, suffocating. My hands were shaking as I dug my phone out of my pocket. As I swiped up to access the flashlight, the screen flickered and went black. It wouldn't turn back on. My phone was impossibly dead.

Freaking the fuck out, I tried to stay calm and assess the situation. As I stood there in a bit of shock, the temperature in my room dropped further, and the whispering escalated to a chant. I couldn't breathe. I had to get the fuck out of here. I bolted for the door, but before I could reach it, I felt it.

A hand, icy cold, pressed against the base of my neck. The sensation was so real I felt my knees go weak. I didn't look back. I couldn't. I shoved the door open and stumbled down the hallway. I felt like I was going to pass out from the sheer fear I felt.

I made it to the top of the stairs before I heard another sound behind me. It was the soft scrape of footsteps on the floorboards, but it quickly became heavier and faster. Something was following me.

Panic took over as I landed at the bottom of the stairs and dashed into the living room. The fireplace had burned low, creating long shadows on the walls, messing with my ability to distinguish what was real from what was in my head. I tried my cell phone again. I had no other option. The screen lit up. Oh, thank God. I frantically dialed my friend Anna, my most logical and calm friend. She picked up after two rings. Uh, hello? Hello?

Anna, I gasped. I think something's in this house, like a ghost. I don't know, but I need help. Please, can you come out here? She didn't answer right away, and for a moment, I thought she had hung up on me. Then she spoke, her voice kind of catching in her throat. Are you sure you're okay? You sound freaked out. I am not okay. I am freaked out. I don't know how to explain this. Something's here with me.

and then I heard a faint noise in the background of our call. Something wasn't right. Anna? Anna?

"'Anna, do you hear that?' I asked, my voice trembling a bit. The sound on the phone grew louder. It was unmistakably a voice, a woman's voice, speaking in a low, guttural tone, and she was not speaking English. Her words sounded unfamiliar, ancient even, and they sent a chill through my body. "'Get out!' the voice whispered in my ear again. I screamed, dropping the phone onto the couch. "'Was that even Anna I had called?'

The entire cottage was freezing now. The shadows seemed to stretch towards me, clawing at the air. I couldn't stop trembling. The fear consumed me. The footsteps, slow and deliberate, came from the hallway. I turned.

And there she was. A figure, faint, translucent, standing in the doorway. Her form was barely visible, like a mist hovering just above the ground. Her eyes were hollow, sunken into her face. And her expression was one of deep, deep sorrow and longing. She didn't speak, but her presence felt like a weight on my chest, suffocating me. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I felt an icy finger brush against my cheek.

I knew, without a doubt, that I was seeing the spirit of the woman who had lived here before me, Mrs. Whitmore. "'Please leave,' she whispered, her voice barely audible.'

My legs were shaking uncontrollably, my heart hammering in my chest. The figure slowly faded away like mist in the wind until she was completely gone. And then the house went eerily quiet, but I could still feel her. Even after she vanished, the heavy, oppressive presence lingered.

lingered. Bad breakup or not, I needed to GTFO and get back to the city where I would never truly be alone. I'd risk running into my ex if it meant I never had to see Mrs. Whitmore again. I left that night, never to return to that cottage. And although I've tried to forget, I still hear the whispering sometimes. In the dead of night, when the wind howls outside my window, I can feel her presence, cold,

watching, waiting. That was a great story. It's a great story. Yeah, very well written, you know, very well told. Yeah. I love the breakup. I know, I love it. Details woven in, especially like the line about like the cheap knockoff of like looking on social media. Oh, yeah. Oh, cool. You're dating somebody who looks like me, but not quite. Yeah, but fuck you.

I love the like constantly trying to blame the ex for things that are absolutely not their fault. Cause we've all absolutely been there. Like, uh, you get a flat tire and you're like, this is fucking somehow Brian's fault or whatever. Like you just, you're just angry and bitter for quite some time.

Yeah, so creepy. Mm-hmm. Yep, that was creepy. Uh-huh. Mrs. Whitmore. And like so relatable, right? After a breakup, when I mean they were together for so long. Yeah. You know, and you think that you're moving into this other phase of your life. You're forever. So of course you want to get away and be alone to a certain degree or you think you want to be alone. Like I could absolutely see myself doing this and then be like, oh, fuck, what have I done?

Ghost or not. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Middle of the night all by myself. Just like no friends or family close by. No thanks. Especially coming out of a, you know, a serious relationship where you're just used to being with someone all the time. Uh-huh. And then being alone. That's just going to be unnerving. Just all on its own.

I would imagine that we have fans out there who are listening. I'd love to hear your stories of, like, if you were in a long-term relationship and then... I mean, this is sad, but if you were widowed and then the ghost comes back. Like, you are so... I just imagine, like, we're so in love, we're so obsessed with each other that, you know, we're going to die simultaneously. But on the off chance that we don't, whomever is left behind, probably you, because I'm going first. Oh, jeez. But, like...

You're so used to someone's routines, right? Like I know your routine so much. So like today I woke up and you were not in bed, but I knew I was like, he's either in the shower or he's making his smoothie or he's run out to get his matcha. Like I just, and so there's certain sounds and a presence and a weight that you get used to just around you all the time. So I have to imagine that when you lose your beloved, right?

You still feel that residual energy in your house for so long. And then like if your spirit's trying to come back, it would be so crazy if you died. And then I just like heard the fucking blender going. Oh my God. Yeah. Right. Like little things. Yeah. Like I'm still in my routine. I'm still here. Yeah. If anybody has any stories like that, I would love to hear it. Hopefully it's about your grandparents. Yeah. Not in your life. But you know, we, we, we lose people all the time. Okay. One more haunted house. Let's do it. Okay. Let's go.

Hey, Lindsay and Dan. Hello. I stumbled across your podcast. I'm totally hooked. I'm glad there's so many episodes because you guys keep me company during my many hours in front of the computer at work. Thank you. In 2011, my husband and I purchased our dream home. It was a new build, making us the first owners of the house. It had plenty of space inside and out, and I envisioned us happily raising our future children there.

There were evenings when we would stand outside our beautiful home just staring at it thinking, I can't believe we live here. We're so lucky. The first two years passed uneventfully. We were busy establishing our careers and trying unsuccessfully to get pregnant. My husband traveled frequently for work and so there were many times that I stayed home alone with our dogs without issue.

Finally, in 2013, after fertility treatments, I was pregnant with our daughter. I was happily awash with pregnancy hormones and focused on getting ready for our baby. It was at this time that my husband started seeing a black figure on our property. He has always been sensitive to the supernatural, but this was the first time he had seen anything at our house.

His first sighting was in the backyard, out of the corner of his eye, when he let the dogs out at night. It lurked around the corner of the house, immediately backing out of view when my husband looked in its direction. He walked over to the side of the house to find nothing but an empty yard and a locked RV gate. Over the next several months, the figure appeared gradually closer and closer to the back door, perching on the roof, looking upside down from the back porch,

All the way until one night when my husband caught sight of it in our guest room. He described it as a very tall, oily, black figure with yellow eyes and elongated fingers. These sightings occurred so sporadically that he never mentioned anything to me. In writing this, I asked him again why he never confided in me at the time. And he said, I don't know. Part of me didn't want to scare you. Part of me didn't want to think it was real. I just thought if I kept it to myself, it wasn't really happening.

Anyways, our baby finally arrived and we got to experience the joys of first-time parenthood with a colicky baby. We somehow got through the first few months of our daughter, albeit with a fraction of the sleep we were used to getting. When my husband did sleep, he started seeing the black figure in his dreams. He would see it staring at him from the guest room doorway, or he would see it lurking at the entrance of the master bathroom, or hanging upside down from the master closet.

staring at him with those creepy, unblinking yellow eyes. When our daughter was about six months old, I came down with the flu and I promptly took myself off to the guest room to keep her and my husband from getting sick. I stayed in the room for like two, maybe three nights, and it was the worst sleep I have ever experienced in my life. My sleep was disturbed by dreams of a black figure pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed.

I would jerk awake, glance around the room, and see nothing. As soon as I'd fall asleep again, the dream would pick up where it left off, a dark figure pacing the room again. I mentioned what I saw in my dreams to my husband, and he grew pale, saying, You saw it too? He confessed everything he had experienced, but we both brushed it off. I mean, who really believes that they are living in a haunted house?

Things quieted down for a few months. My husband was lulled into a false sense of security. It was so easy to be in denial, so easy to explain things away. We had weird things happen occasionally, like, for instance, our thermostat would change when we were out of the house. We'd return after a work day and the house would either be really hot

or really cold. We explained it away as a malfunctioning thermostat, but even after we replaced it, the same thing would occur. Then the guest bedroom was always very cold, but we cursed the builder for being cheap with the insulation. We were recording a ton of videos of our new daughter at that time, and in one of the videos that we took of her in the guest room, we captured an orb appearing to float towards her, caress her head, and then float out of frame,

But it could be explained away as a trick of the light. The activity really ramped up when we started construction on a swimming pool in the backyard. There was one particular day that whatever being was inhabiting our home was really trying to let us know it was there.

The day started off normal enough. After breakfast, I started straightening up the house. I glanced in the guest room and I saw that the pillows on the bed were stacked oddly. I had decorative pillows that normally sat in front of the bed pillows. On this particular morning, they were stacked on top of the bed pillows. I gave my husband a hard time for messing with the pillows and not putting them back in place, but he denied ever having going into the room.

Could it be our nearly three-year-old daughter who had messed with them? We brought her into the room to see if she could stack the pillows, but she could not even climb onto the bed by herself. We shrugged. I put the pillows in their proper position, and shortly after, we went out on our errands. When we returned, I went back into the guest room. I'm not sure why. Maybe to check on those damn pillows?

I saw that the lights in the en suite bathroom were on. We never turned them on and we had just returned from being out. So there was no one home to turn the light on. Why were they on? I turned the light off, made sure that everything else in the room was in order and walked back out. For the rest of the day, my husband and I would periodically go together to see if anything was out of place in the guest room. We checked once, twice, nothing.

The third time, the bedspread had been pulled up from the corner of the bed, though neither of us nor our daughter had been in the room. I smoothed it back down and again made sure everything was in place and left the room. About an hour after that, we did a quick sweep around the room again and sighed with relief that nothing was out of place until we turned to leave.

On the wall next to the door, I had two pictures, one above the other. And now they were both cockeyed on the wall, turned at 45 degree angles. We never bumped the wall on our way out and we didn't have some random earthquake that misplaced only those pictures in our house. Now we were really freaking out.

There was a store not too far from us that sold items to cleanse negative energy and spirits from the home. We bought out nearly the entire store of sage, Hollywood, crystals, you name it. We smudged the house and the activity died down for a while. We had our second daughter and I was back to being up all hours of the night with a newborn. Only now I had the creepiest feeling when I was up with her, almost like something was watching me. I would sometimes see movement out of the corner of my eye when there was nothing there.

It was during this time that I noticed my husband's temperament changing, but I chalked it up to the lack of sleep and stress from work. We were fighting more, his temper was worse, and everything pissed him off. Whether it was someone who cut him off in traffic or if the grocery cashier was slow in ringing us up, I'd hear him rage on about it afterwards. He was never physically violent, never emotionally abusive, but he was just so, so different.

Usually, what happens with these stories is that the family is unable to move due to financial constraints. But, thankfully, that was not the case for us. We had randomly passed by an open house one weekend and found a property that we thought had great potential and would suit our family better. We went home, crunched the numbers, and decided we could make it happen. The

The decision was 95% financially motivated and 5% motivated by wanting to get away from this dark figure in our house. We put our home on the market, received an offer quickly, and immediately accepted. The following weeks, we were busy with packing and moving. We smudged the house frequently as we were readying for the move because we were taking no chances that that thing was coming with us.

One place we didn't smudge though was the garage. We began receiving alerts from our motion activated camera in the garage around the same time every night. 3 a.m. Of course. Each and every single video clip showed orbs floating around our dark windowless garage.

On our very last day in the house, we were scrambling to tie up loose ends and frantically cleaning and packing the last of our belongings. I ended up alone at the house after sundown because my husband was taking another truckload of our belongings to our storage unit.

From the direction of the guest room, I felt eyes on me. I did my best not to look in that direction, but when my eyes swept that way, I saw a shadow scuttle past the doorway. I propped the manned door to the garage open and rolled the garage doors open so that if I needed to, I could make a quick escape.

It was like the spirit was sad we were leaving.

After the move, my husband was himself again. We no longer fought and he returned to being the man I married. He told me that during the last few months at that house, he often felt a simmering rage within him that he could not explain. And he wondered if it was the being influencing him. All of the events had occurred so infrequently and were so subtle that it was easy to explain it away, easy to be in denial.

It's been two years since we moved and being in the new house has been just wonderful. We never realized the dark cloud that we had been living under.

We have encountered the owners of our former home from time to time, and they were generally happy with the home. They were an older, retired couple who loved the space for entertaining and having out-of-town visitors. Each time, the wife would have questions regarding the home, though. She asked if we ever had anything weird happen in the home when we lived there, and whether there had ever been any scratching or tapping sounds in the attic.

She said that they had hired several exterminators to evaluate the home and there was never any signs of vermin, but there were always sounds coming from the attic, especially when she was home alone. She also told us, quote, I'm not sure if my eyes are going bad because I'm always seeing shadows moving from the corner of my eye. But when I turned to look, there's nothing there. We would just shrug helplessly and tell her truthfully that we'd never heard sounds from the attic.

Just a few months ago, the house was put on the market and recently sold. Hopefully, the new owners have better luck with the property. I've attached a video clip from the garage for you. Keep up the great work, Anna. Oh, man. That would be such a weird thing to sell your place partially because it's haunted.

And then run into the new people that bought it. I know. And they start saying things. I'd be like, sorry. It's like, and the thing is, is that, I mean, okay, there's the potential that any house is haunted. Yeah. And that one family feels it and another family doesn't. That's true. So in this instance, it's like it doesn't actually feel, it feels bothersome. Yeah. And it feels uncomfortable. But it doesn't feel like this thing was like malicious. So maybe they just hoped that like the next people either wouldn't feel it or it would just continue to be.

I mean, I don't know. What do you do? I know. Maybe, I know. And since, I mean, yes, the husband's personality shifted and stuff after a while, but like other than that, there was nothing like necessarily malicious. Yeah. But it made me think of like a more extreme situation. Like what if you like kept hearing a voice being like, kill, kill them. Oh God. Kill them all. Like you're like living there with your family and you're like seeing weird shit and you're hearing this horrible voice urge you to do something terrible. You sell the house, new family moves in, family dies. I know. Then I'd be like, oh man. I know it's on your conscience. Yeah. But also like, if,

If you have the ability to buy a home, like in these modern times, I feel like such an old hag saying that, but it is really hard to save up and be able to buy a home, right? It is the biggest financial investment of your life. And so what do you, what are you fucking supposed to do if your house is haunted and it is destroying you, you know that you can sell it and make a profit, but now somebody else is at risk. It's like,

I mean, morally, you feel terrible, but it's like, I also have to live my life and I need that money. That's a really tough conundrum. Tough, yeah. Okay, so let's watch this video side by side. Let me know when you have it up. I'm ready to go. Okay, one, two, three.

Okay, so as you're watching this, remember, it's a windowless garage, but you're going to see these random orbs just popping up all over the place. Oh, yeah. And it is creepy because it's like, what is it? You see one going off to the left, off to the right. That's fucking weird. It's just 15 seconds. It's weird. The last like five seconds or so. Yeah. The last five seconds. That one's weird. That one that just does this little like whoop, like a little swirl and then goes up and out of frame kind of in the middle of the frame. Yep.

I mean, I want to say it's just like, you know, particles refracting light that are caught in like the AC system or something like that. That's the air. But like the movement is strange. It's strange and it swirls like it does. And there's other ones moving in other directions. It is very weird. Well, and also, okay, windowless. So we know it's not a fragment of light coming. Like it's not a car driving by like the...

No, I meant like... No, I know. The security camera isn't catching anything, like, you know, outside of the house. Okay, so we've eliminated that. Then, like you said, the AC or like the HVAC, but generally, there's not... I mean, correct me if I'm wrong here, but you don't have HVAC running in your garage. You don't have a... You can have a heated or cooled garage, but that is... That's true. I feel like...

Yeah, the motion of my, I just kept kind of like playing it over and over again. Yeah, it's.

Yeah, it's very strange. It's very strange. Yeah. And I don't know what to think about orbs of light. I know. I know. I'm curious, like when we post it, what people on social media will say. Yeah. What their comments will be. I know. I always love to hear what other people see because they're like, oh, I see this. I see that. And they're like, yes, it's power of suggestion. But sometimes they point out some really valid things that I just didn't see. Yeah.

All righty. So many haunted houses this week. So many haunted houses. Oh, did you want to say a word about the story? Oh my gosh, I completely forgot at the top of my section because I scrolled past it. That's good. Yeah, so last week on episode 291, I had a little story mishap. And I didn't even notice. I've heard so many stories, I didn't even catch it. Yeah, so I guess you would be my final safeguard. Right? I was like, okay. That failed. Okay.

So the story about Bonnie and Ronnie and the friend in the mirror from 291, we had told before. And when I was reading it and even putting it into the thing, I was like, God, this feels so familiar. So I have a system of checking. Obviously, all these stories submissions come via email. So I have a system of checking various folders and then just checking my entire inbox. Right. You can just search the whole I have, I think, 17 email addresses. Yeah. Quite literally for business. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.

I searched the entire inbox and it didn't show up other than this time. So it wasn't because sometimes people do double submit, which can cause some issues or they submit under a new email address, which can cause an issue. I could not find this story anywhere. So I see some comments pop up, pop up on Patreon. They're like, Lindsay repeated. And I was like, what?

So y'all, I had to go all the way back to the digital manuscripts of the books and search and search and search. And finally, when I searched the person's name and the proper spelling, it came out a couple years ago. And so I'm really sorry. But the good news is...

That story was submitted in 2021. So it's just a reminder to all of you listening that I do go back. I do try and search for newer submissions, older submissions. And in the beginning, we just didn't have... Now I have Heather and our book editor, Drew, helping me. I didn't have anybody. And there were...

like anything, an initial onslaught of emails. Um, and so I've been really trying to go back and see like, Oh, what did we miss along the way? Yeah. So apologies for that. I hope you all enjoyed it a second time. And, um, you know, I hope it never happens again. Yeah.

I loved it both times. It clearly got me both times, so it worked. But yeah, sorry about that. Yeah, yeah. I mean, we've told a lot of stories now. So, I mean, that's the first time. I know. I got to say, I'm pretty proud of myself that, like, in the sixth year, it took until six years to repeat. But I still hate that it happened. Like, dang it. A little bit embarrassed. So, sorry about that, guys. Yeah, so we are aware. And now we're going to thank some animals. Let's do it.

You want to go first? You want me to go first? Yeah. And also just a reminder, if you haven't heard your Annabelle shout out within a few weeks of signing up, please email us at info at scaredofdeathpodcast.com. It's not a perfect science or system. So, you know, and we're only human. So if we've missed you, please let us know. Yeah, we're happy. We want to make it right. You know, if you've signed up, that's part of your benefits. Yeah. All right. Thanks to the following Annabelles who make this show possible. Leah Stiltner, Mallory Gamble,

Lil Yumper. Lil Yumper. Lil Yumper. Okay. I hope you're a rapper. Oh, man. I have to get the hottest mixtape. Oh, it'd be so sick. Amalthea, Michelle Shadden, Cody Woods, Kyle Forga, and Jamie Ricker Chaloti. Chaloti? Chaloti.

Chilodi. C-H-I-O-L-D-I. Chaioldi. Okay. Chaioldi. All right. Sorry, Jamie. That's a tricky one. I would like to thank the following Annabelles. Oladehi. Coffee Zombie. Brother Bard. The Florida Feline Queen. Diana. Rebel Raycal.

Sandra Myrick and Mallory Gamble. You got some fun ones. I also got Mallory Gamble. Mallory, did you accidentally sign up twice? It does happen sometimes. Oh, okay. So just double check your bank account. And I just have one spoopy shout out this week. To Jonathan from your mom, Christina. Happy birthday to my firstborn. Thank you for waiting until I was 50 to make me a grandma. I can't wait to meet Ophelia. Great name.

I'm so proud of you and I love you so much. Ah, so sweet. So sweet. And that is our show. Thank you for continuing to send in your personal tales of terror to mystoryatscaredtodeathpodcast.com. You can email us for everything else at info at scaredtodeathpodcast.com. Thank you, Logan Keith, scoring today's show. Thank you to Heather Rylander organizing the My Story emails and to book editor Drew Atana polishing and preparing listener stories for book number six.

I was able to find today's first story I shared, and thank you to Olivia Lee for finding the second. We are on Facebook and Instagram, where we post pics that accompany episodes and more at Scared to Death Podcast, where you can check out that video and see what you think of those orbs. We also have a private Facebook group called Creeps and Peepers, full of fellow horror lovers that is moderated by the all-seeing eyes. Thanks for doing such a great job, and enjoy your nightmares, Creeps and Peepers. Hope you were scared to death. Bye. Bye.

If spirits threaten me in this place, fight water by water and fire by fire. Banish their souls into nothingness and remove their powers until the last trace. Let these evil beings bleed through time and space. Evil may pass through but have no home here within. Scared to death. Mad Magic Productions. Oh, yeah. Oh, cool. You're dating somebody who looks like me, but not quite. Yeah, but fuck you.

Tired of listening to the same old playlists or podcasts over and over? Maybe it's time to mix things up. Try something new. Hit explore. Avoid the blah and the boring before you even put your headphones in. Add some fun in the mix. Say yabba-dabba-doo to a bowl of Pebble cereal and enjoy by the spoonful. Fruity and Cocoa Pebble cereal. Less blah, more yabba-dabba-doo. Head to your nearest grocery store to buy Pebble cereal today. The Flintstones and all related characters and elements copyright and trademark Hanna-Barbera.

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