505 | Georgia Cryptid TEARS OFF DOOR - 7 TRUE Scary Stories
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January 29, 2025
TLDR: Stories include 'She Had No Face' from Spookychan, 'Cafeteria Ghost or Demon?', 'Floating Ghost Snake Thing', 'Brick House on the Corner', 'The South Dakota Werewolf', and 'Something Broke into our Home'. Submit your own scary story and subscribe for more.

In Episode 505 of the Unexplained Encounters podcast, host Darkness Prevails showcases seven chilling true stories that delve into the unknown and supernatural. Let's explore the most spine-tingling tales shared in this gripping episode.
She Had No Face from Spookychan
A young girl named Spookychan shares her unsettling experience from the summer of 1997. During a sleepover at her new house, she and her friends decide to play with an old Ouija board despite her apprehension.
- The session begins quietly, but soon escalates into terror when Spookychan encounters a faceless woman in the hallway.
- Despite her pleas to her parents for help, they dismiss her story as a nightmare.
- This cautionary tale emphasizes the dangers of dabbling with Ouija boards, suggesting they might connect you to something otherworldly and malevolent.
Cafeteria Ghost or Demon? From Childofartemis24
This story comes from a cafeteria worker at a local high school who believes the school is haunted.
- The worker experiences strange occurrences including voices and objects moving on their own.
- Tensions rise when the school’s students start a prayer group in the cafeteria, which seems to provoke the spirits.
- Fearful incidents escalate, culminating in eerie laughter and ghostly sightings, raising questions about the existence of entities amidst the chaos.
Floating Ghost Snake Thing from Polaris700
In a harrowing account from Polaris700, a floating ghostly snake is witnessed while traveling to a party.
- Upon encountering this paranormal phenomenon, both Polaris and his friend Frank are left baffled and alarmed at this translucent, floating entity.
- Years later, their shared memory of the snake revisits as Polaris discusses it with his family, inviting listeners to share similar experiences.
Brick House on the Corner from Sparkledrop34
This encounter unfolds in Pennsylvania, where a family experiences strange happenings in their two-story home.
- The story reveals supernatural events, like ghostly sightings and odd noises coming from locked rooms, creating an atmosphere of dread.
- The family's faith adds a complex layer as they come to grips with their belief in angels and demons, questioning the existence of spirits in their new home.
The South Dakota Werewolf from Cody T.
Cody T. narrates a chilling experience sparked by a childhood bike ride, where an eerie presence loomed during a late summer storm.
- As he approached a tree line, he sensed a dark figure watching him, causing a flood of panic to propel him homeward.
- This encounter is highlighted by subtle changes in the environment, such as unusual silence and shifting shadows, leading to an ominous feeling and a night he would never forget.
Something Broke into Our Home from Past_as_witness
This memoir details a harrowing experience in rural Georgia.
- Past_as_witness recounts a terrifying night when an unknown entity breaks into their home, tearing apart the front door with unnatural strength.
- Haunting sounds and an oppressive presence kept the family up in fear, leaving them with a physical reminder of the encounter—the broken door and ominous claw marks.
Anonymous Encounters
In a series of shorter narratives, various anonymous contributors share their encounters with spirits or entities that blur the line between reality and the supernatural.
- These include unsettling experiences like sudden disappearances and ghostly figures in their homes, revealing the lingering presence of the unknown.
Conclusion
The episode presents a collection of unsettling stories that explore the realms of the unknown, fear, and the very real experiences of individuals who encountered the inexplicable. Each story serves as a reminder of the mysteries lurking just beyond the edge of our reality:
- Caution is key: Engaging with the supernatural can have unforeseen consequences.
- Trust your instincts: If something feels off, it probably is.
- The supernatural is often intertwined with our personal beliefs: Our perceptions shape our experiences.
Eerie and riveting, Episode 505 of Unexplained Encounters takes listeners on a ride through chilling terrain, reminding us that the strange and unsettling may not be as far from our reality as we might think.
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You wake up in the middle of the night, thirsty for a glass of water. Everyone else is in bed quietly asleep.
but as you open your door and step into the hallway, you see a seven-foot tall silhouette standing there, looking at you, a figure with claws and a long snout. Welcome back to Unexplained Encounters. I'm your host, Darkness Prevails, and you should follow me on X at Dark Prevails. Today's episode features an assortment of scary unexplained stories, such as a middle-of-the-night break-in by something inhuman.
the most bizarre sounding floating ghost on the road you've ever heard of, and more. If you want me to narrate your stories, send it to me at darkstories.org. Support the show by becoming a member at eeriecast.com slash plus, where you can get exclusive bonus content for members only and help us become the biggest horror show on the planet by following unexplained encounters on Spotify and Apple podcasts and leave us a review. Thank you.
Now let's begin. She had no face from Spooky Chan. This story begins back in the summer of 1997. I was 12 years old at the time. My family and I had just moved into a new house about half an hour away from where we used to live. It was a warm summer night.
and my parents had agreed to let my friends have a sleepover, and I was eager to show them around my new house. My friend, I'll call her Emily, and my other friend I'll call Stephanie, came inside and were warmly greeted by my mother, who had prepared us some chocolate chip cookies. I then showed my friends around the new house. We then made our way to the living room, where we set everything up for the slumber party.
Emily excitedly opened her back to show me some spooky movies that she had brought with her and rushed to the VCR to put one in. My mother quickly said, don't you girls watch anything too scary tonight? I'll be just in the other room with your dad if you need anything. She then retired to her room. After she left, we snuggled up in our blankets and put on the movie. When it was over, we were still pretty wired and not ready for bed yet.
I brought some games for us to play," Stephanie said. She unzipped her bag and emptied it on the floor. There were a few boring games. Nothing really too interesting stood out at first, but then I did see something underneath. I reached down and pushed the other games aside, revealing what looked to be a glow-in-the-dark Ouija board.
Oh, Emily said, grabbing the box from my hands. Is this what I think it is? Sure is, Stephanie said with a mischievous smile. I snuck it from my older brother's room. He'd kill me if he knew I had it.
I'm not sure if we should mess with this," I said, a little worried. I don't want to accidentally summon anything. Come on, said Stephanie, as she smirked. You don't actually believe in that, do you? It's just a board game. It can't summon anything. What's the harm to just try it? Emily added. We can stop any time we want into the session before anything weird happens. All right then, I said with a sigh.
We can try it, this once. But if anything weird does happen, we're stopping right away." My friend shouted excitedly in unison. They took the board out of its box and laid it on the coffee table. We found some candles in the closet. We set them around the board and lit them. Then we turned out the lights and sat down. So how do we use the thing anyway? I asked.
Emily and Stephanie then began to explain the rules to me. We need to ask a question first, said Stephanie. Then we put all our hands in the planchette. It'll guide us letter by letter to the answer. And don't forget to put the planchette over goodbye when you're done, Emily added. You ask the first question, said Stephanie. This is your house after all, your new house. Maybe you can ask if there's any ghosts here.
Okay, I said nervously. Um, are there any spirits here with us tonight? I asked quietly. If so, please answer.
We all held our fingers over the planchette, waiting for an answer, but nothing responded. See, I told you there was nothing to worry about," Stephanie said. We put the planchette over goodbye, blew out the candles, then turned back on the lamp. With that was lame, Emily said, with disappointment. I was hoping for some actual ghosts. I laughed and admitted that I was glad we didn't get a response and that we quit sooner rather than later.
We were still full of energy and eager to do something else fun, but none of the other board games sounded interesting. We then decided the best game to play would be hide and seek. I wanted to go first, so Emily and Stephanie ran on to go find a hiding place. I closed my eyes and counted to 10. After reaching 10, I ran off in search of those two.
Emily was always the easiest to find, so I found her first. She was in the bathroom shower behind the curtain. She and I then split up to go find Stephanie. As I made my way towards the back of the house, I noticed the door to my dad's office room was open. My father had a hobby in his spare time of building models of airplanes, as well as cars, and all his important equipment for that was in that room.
He usually kept it locked, so I wouldn't mess around with any of it. Stephanie, I said urgently, as I approached the room. You can't hide in there. This room is off limits. I walked inside and looked around, but I heard no response from her. Stephanie, this isn't funny. If Dad catches us in here, we're in big trouble. I said, getting even more annoyed.
Just as I was about to say something else, I saw something quickly dart behind the office chair. I felt this rush of fear come over me as I slowly approached the chair. Stephanie? I asked, struggling to get any words out. Is that you? I stuttered. I felt a light chill, and then I heard a raspy whisper behind me.
The voice answered, all of a sudden my stomach felt like it fell through my feet, and I ran for my life out of the room, screaming. Stephanie popped out of the broom closet in the kitchen, where she'd been hiding, and Emily came running out of the living room. What? What's wrong? We both asked, trying to calm me down. I frantically tried to explain what just happened, when my dad stormed out of my parents' bedroom.
What on earth is going on?" he asked with concern. I tried to tell him what happened, but he didn't believe me. He said those scary movies put me on edge, and he told us all to go to bed. I settled into my sleeping bag, still disturbed by what had happened. We were all sleeping in the living room that night. My friends were already fast asleep by the time I started to get even sleepy at all.
I closed my eyes, then I heard the sound of a faint whispering. I bolted right up, looking around the room, wide-eyed, heart-pounding. I didn't see anything, but I could hear whispering from every direction. I tried to wake my friends, but to no avail, they weren't responding
I slowly got out of my sleeping bag, trying to pinpoint where the whispering was coming from. But I couldn't figure it out. I looked towards the back of the house. I saw the office door, was now slowly creaking open. Then there was what appeared to be a woman's hand, reaching out from the room. The fingers slowly ran across the door, but then they disappeared back into the darkness of the room.
There's no way I just saw that, I thought to myself. I was frozen and terrified, then came to my senses only to realize I'd walked all the way towards the door somehow, without me even knowing. I felt that cold rush of air again. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, and I felt like something very evil was right behind me.
I felt nothing but dread, slowly turning around, expecting to see something horrible. But when I did, there was nothing there.
I sighed with a bit of relief. I then turned around to face the office door and nearly screamed. A woman was standing in the doorway now. She was pale, slightly transparent. Her body was all skinny and bony, neck crooked, and she was writhing in this very unnatural way. The worst part about her was that she didn't have a face.
She started moving towards me in this jerky manner, and then I finally screamed, running backwards to the living room, waking everyone up in the house. My parents ran out of their room, my friends both waking up looking at me confused and terrified. I again tried to explain what happened. I was crying, trying to tell my story and choking on my words.
My parents were convinced it was just a bad nightmare and scolded us for watching scary movies before bed. I tried to plead with them. It wasn't a nightmare, but no one would believe me. Eventually, I did convince my parents to let me sleep with them in their room. My friends went back to sleep in the living room. Finally, after laying awake for what seemed like an eternity, reeling over what had happened in my head, I fell asleep.
At breakfast in the morning, my friends teased me about my nightmare, and then their parents stopped by to pick them up. After they left that day, I didn't see the faceless lady again. And I never did allow Stephanie to bring her Ouija board over. I really do think something evil was attached to it, and for some reason, it was drawn to me.
This was the scariest thing I've ever experienced in my life. My warning to all of you is don't go messing around with Ouija boards. They may look like toys. They may have a board game brand on them, but they're not just toys. They may just open the doorway to something evil, waiting for you on the other side.
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It's cheap and really helps us out. That's erecast.com slash plus. Thank you. Cafeteria ghosts or demon from child of Artemis 24. I work at a local high school cafeteria. I've been here about three years by now. The high school is the only high school in our town and we've got 900 kids
Even for a small town, that's a lot of high schoolers for a school. To set the background, I'll have to tell you a few things. I'm a very religious person. I am apostolic. We believe in spiritual warfare. We even teach our children about warfare and the things they need to stay away from. Things that might open doorways. With that being said, let's begin. I knew taking a job at the high school was going to be a spiritual battle.
I heard how far some of the rules had been bent or just not simply enforced. For instance, the kids are now allowed to wear satanic shirts and all that. I won't lie, even though I'm a grown woman, seeing a bunch of teenagers walking around openly wearing that demon makes me uneasy. Because most of the kids really don't know what they're doing. They're just wearing what they think is cool or whatever.
If only they'd had experiences with darker forces, they would quickly change their minds. Not too long after working there, the women started to tell me the ghost stories about the kitchen. There would be voices and talking when no one was around, pots being pushed over, etc. They asked if I believed in ghosts. I explained them. I did until I learned that they were all demons masking themselves as people.
to which the women replied, no, that's not true. I just told them whatever suits them. I offered to show it to them in the Bible, which always seemed to settle the topic, because no one ever asked me to show them. Maybe they just weren't as Christian as they claimed to be. Who knows? But I do know that whenever they had a strange experience, they would yell at me to go cast it out or pray with them, which I did.
At the time, I never saw anything like they did, though. I did, however, feel the uneasiness going down the long hallway to the stockroom or bathroom. My first encounter happened in the stockroom. I was in there grabbing my supplies for the day when I heard a coworker yelling at me. Jess, I walked out into the hallway and yelled back. What'd you say, Nick? I can't understand you from here.
No one was there. I ran up the hallway looking for Nikki. When I found her at the register, I asked if she had come down the hallway. She replied, no, I've been here the whole time. I asked if anyone else came down the hallway a few moments ago, and everyone said no. I told them about what I heard, and they all said, that sounds like you heard the little ghost girl we have. That's what we've been telling you about.
I guess so," I admitted. The next time I had an encounter with this ghost girl, Trish was telling me she saw her walking across the hallway, right through a wall. I was like no way, and I asked what she looked like. She was white and has long hair and a white dress. After explaining her appearance, they asked if I could go down there and start to pray.
I then reminded them if they were Christian, they could always do the same thing as me. I couldn't tell if they were messing with me or not, but I told them outright I wasn't going to go down that hallway. Not this time. Honestly, at that point, I was having a lot more experiences than I was letting on. From nightmares to more voices that never led to me ever seeing anyone, to that someone watching you feeling that never went away.
and I was not in any shape to be confronting it head-on at the moment. A few days later, some pots and pans fell off a very high shelf in the dishroom. No one was in there because we were on our break. We hadn't even ran the big dishes for the day yet, but somehow it fell. But the event that rocked me to the core was actually coming face to face with the thing itself.
At school we have a Bible class that kids can take at the church right next door. It's an optional elective, and the church connects right to the school parking lot. There are a lot of kids who take that class, many of which do it because it seems like an easy pick. About six months ago, a whole group of them decided to start a prayer circle in the cafeteria before class. The first day they did it after everyone had gone to class, and even asked all of us cafeteria ladies if we wanted to join in.
And we did. The circle, including adults, was about 15 people in total. This was the beginning of stirring the hornet's nest, so to speak. I wondered if praying right in the middle of its stronghold was going to agitate the ghost girl slash demon. And boy did it.
Now, at first, things were calm and normal. But after about a week, the things in the kitchen seemed to ramp up. Everyone was always experiencing stuff all day long, whether it be voices or seeing shadows out of the corner of your eyes. Someone always had a new experience to share. One morning I came in, and everyone refused to go down the hallway to get any supplies. I asked why.
The three of them explained. They had been in the stockroom getting supplies. They started to walk back up the hallway together when this loud little girl's giggling erupted from behind them. They dropped everything and ran, refusing to go back down that hallway until more people were around, specifically me. They were waiting on me to go down that hallway after it. Those were their exact words.
The final straw was when I pulled into work one morning, and I actually saw it. I arrived at work a little before 7 AM. It was still in dusky dark outside. I walked around the building to the loading dock, slash back porch, where we come in at. We have a small bus that sits back there, about 20 feet from the back door in its own spot. On the back side of the bus is at least three teachers' back doors.
These students are not allowed to park back there, or even go out those doors, unless there's a fire. Occasionally, though, a teacher will go out the door to their car, which is right there in the parking lot, to load stuff for the classroom. It's a much shorter walk than going all the way around the building. On this morning, I came upon the bus and saw a teacher walking out of the shadow of the bus. I said to them, whoa, hey there! You scared me coming out of the dark like that.
The shadow stepped forward and said nothing. A sudden fear came over me when I realized it suddenly disappeared. That wasn't a person at all. I immediately walked into the kitchen, grabbing my anointing oil, starting to pray and putting it over every door and window in there. My boss asked what I was doing, and I said, I'll explain it later.
She didn't need an explanation. She was a pastor's wife. She knew what I was doing. And the fact that I was even going to that extreme at that moment was serious. I asked everyone if everything was okay in their personal lives. No crazy nightmares or strange things happening at home like it does here. They said no, which only left the prayer group of kids.
I ended up overstepping my boundaries, asking some of those kids if everything was alright in their lives. No nightmares are crazy things, I asked. They said no to, then asked why. I explained that the devil likes to fight back, and he definitely didn't like us praying in his camp.
After the kids went to class, one girl came to me and said her friend was suffering from demonic nightmares. They said they told their pastor and they prayed for her, but she was still having nightmares and even seeing things. Needless to say, asking those kids those questions got me in quite a bit of trouble with my supervisor.
I don't know what happened to that girl, or if her dreams stopped, but I am not allowed to even talk to them at all. I don't go pray when they ask me to anymore either. I don't even pray for my coworkers at work anymore. I used to pray for them on the spot, but since I got in trouble, I just don't. I was only trying to help to begin with, but the more I help, the more trouble I seem to get into.
When the voices start or the pots fall every now and then, and they ask me to go get it, I respond with, nah that's okay. Y'all got this. If you ever wonder if schools are haunted, well ours is, and it doesn't like the light, it will do anything or use anyone to stomp it out. I'm still working here, and I will be until something else opens up somewhere else.
Hopefully in a school that doesn't have any haunted activity. Floating Ghost Snake Thing from Polaris 700. This is a story that happened a while back now. I'm a 30 year old man from a small town in Central Ontario where I still live today.
The story happened when I was about 16 years old, and I still swear by it. One Friday in high school, at the end of the day, we all heard about this party that was going to be happening that night in North Aurelia. Aurelia is a small city, but the north part is in the outskirts, and it's very rural, a farming community. So me and my buddy Frank decided we wanted to go to this party.
At the time, I didn't have my own vehicle, and Frank had just gotten his first truck, just some small Mazda. Frank picked me up from my house and away we went. We got about 15 minutes from the party and crested a small hill. There was a whole family of raccoons right there in the middle of the road.
Unfortunately, there was no time to break. We felt horrible, but there was nothing we could do. The damage was done, so we kept on going. We kept driving for about five minutes after that. This is where things got weird.
We were about to cross over a small bridge with steel guardrails on each side. The guardrails are roughly three feet high. Suddenly, I see this thing kind of just appear out of nowhere on the right side of the bridge. The only way I can describe it is a freaking floating ghost snake.
The thing was literally floating three feet off the ground. The same height as the guardrail and was roughly about eight to ten feet long and translucent. It was like a giant see-through floating anaconda. As I saw this thing, it floated across the road on the bridge and literally went right through the steel guardrail and disappeared.
It sounds ridiculous, I know. Which is why I didn't say anything at first. I thought I was seeing things. Then all of a sudden Frank yells, what the heck was that? I replied, you saw that too? Yeah, a freaking floating ghost snake. I replied, that's exactly what I saw. We had no explanation for it.
We decided to still go to the party, and we talked about it the whole way there and back. We never told anyone at the party though, sure that they would never believe us. They'd probably think we were insane. Fast forward about 15 years. I was hanging out with my siblings and my mother, telling stories about strange things that had happened to us. And I decided to tell them this story. Maybe they would believe me.
Maybe they wouldn't. So I told them, and they actually did believe me, thinking the story was quite creepy. I then texted Frank that night, who I hadn't talked to in years by then. All I said was, Hey man, remember that floating ghost snake thing we saw that one night? He replied, That's so weird that you just messaged me about that, because I was just thinking about it yesterday.
I've never seen anything like it since, and I listened to these podcasts and many others, hoping to hear of something similar. I even tried googling it, but no luck. If anyone listening has had a similar experience, please share it. I'd love to find out what the heck me and Frank saw that day. Brick House on the Corner From Sparkle Drop 34
These encounters happened back in 2002 when I was 12. For starters, my family and I are religious people. And at the time of this story, we would go to church on a regular basis. Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, and even Wednesdays. While I don't believe in ghosts or the afterlife, I do believe in angels and demons. To this day, my family doesn't know what lurked in that brick house on the corner in Pennsylvania.
My family had just moved to Pennsylvania. My dad had gotten offered a job to work with his older brother at the local church. We moved into a two-story brick house with two bedrooms on the main floor, which was where mine and my brother's rooms were. My parents' room was upstairs. If you went up the stairs, you could go to the left where the bathroom was and to the right was my parents' room. In between was a short hallway with the stairs coming up the middle.
One night, my mom woke up to use the bathroom. As she was walking back to the bedroom and walking through the hallway, she could feel a presence behind her. She turned her head slightly and saw two people standing there. She was so terrified that she ran back to her bedroom and crawled under the blankets. A few years before my family moved to the house in Pennsylvania, I'd had this dream.
It was about a little boy who had red hair and freckles. He had to have been about six or seven, and he seemed like he was from the fifties. All I could see in my dream was his face. No matter if I opened or closed my eyes, his face was there just staring at me. For some reason this dream terrified me so much I ran to my parents room and slept with them. That whole night I could envision this boy as clear as day.
Now fast forward to 2002, when we lived in Pennsylvania. I was going through my closet in my bedroom. I reached my hand way to the back of the top shelf, pulling out an old sepia colored school photo of a little boy with red hair and freckles from the 50s, and he seemed to be an older than six or seven. I ran to my mom to show her the photo. I told her that this was the same boy that I saw in my dreams a few years ago.
I never found the history of the little boy. Maybe I'd had a premonition or something. Now, my dad was always a stickler with making sure all the lights were turned off in the house, as well as the basement door always being shut. There were a few times when my family and I would come back from church, or just going out, and all the basement lights would be on, and the TV would be turned on full blast. Plus the basement door would be wide open, but no one had been home.
My last story is from the last summer that we spent at the house. We had an above ground pool that was only three feet deep. My family would always do late night swims, just goofing off in the pool. One night, my brother and I were doing a late night swim while my parents and some of their friends were inside. We were snorkeling under the water. When suddenly, we both felt like we were being watched. We also heard this faint humming sound.
When we came up to the surface, we both saw this white furry figure standing over the edge of the pool just watching us. It stood about six feet tall. We didn't get a clear view of the creature as it was dark, and it ran off pretty fast once we came up. My brother and I were horrified. We didn't know what it was, but if we had to guess, maybe it was a Bigfoot.
Whatever it really was, it was creepy. We moved away not long after that. I've never been entirely sure whether to call that day the strangest or most unsettling in my life.
Maybe it was both. I was 14, living in a small town nestled in eastern South Dakota, not far from the Big Sioux River. Summers there were two things, humid and endless. We had gravel roads that intersected with endless blacktop stretches, flanked by farmland on one side and small clusters of trees on the other.
Late afternoons were golden hours, the light catching on the tall grass and reflecting off cars that rarely passed by. Back then, my primary mode of independence was a beat up old bicycle, a hand me down from my older brother who had upgraded to a car. That bike was more rust than paint, but the wheels and chains still worked, and that was all that mattered.
Mom never worried too much about me biking around by myself. Everybody in our little town knew each other, and folks typically waved at you when you passed by their driveways. A peaceful place, or so it seemed.
I remember it was late July. The day started off hot and muggy with thunderheads building far off in the western sky. I was itching to leave the house after finishing my chores, so I hopped on my bike and headed along a county road that cut through farmland. My plan was to meet a friend who lived about five miles out near the edge of town where the fields gave way to a gentle slope dotted with pine and cottonwood trees.
We'd talked about riding together toward some older abandoned property rumored to have an old barn we could explore. It was the sort of mischief teenage kids got themselves into during slow summer days.
About halfway there, I noticed the clouds overhead had taken on a greenish tint and the wind had shifted. It was that eerie stillness that sometimes precedes a storm. I glanced at the horizon and realized a storm was definitely blowing in sooner than expected.
I figured I had time to make it to my friend's place before the rain started, so I pedaled faster. The stretch of road I was on wove through farmland, but it also skirted the edge of a narrow band of trees, almost like a windbreak that a local rancher had planted decades earlier.
Right as I neared that tree line, the air turned cooler. It felt almost like stepping into a shadow, even though the sun was still above the horizon. I remember catching a whiff of damp earth, as if rain had already fallen somewhere close by. My gaze swept over the trees, which were mostly pines and a few taller cottonwoods, their leaves quivering in the wind.
I couldn't see far past the first few trunks, but it always gave me the sense that those woods were deeper than they looked. A thin line from the outside, but maybe thicker once you stepped in. That's when I heard it. A sound just beyond the ditch, close to where the barbed wire fence separated the road shoulder from the trees.
It wasn't a normal rustle, like a deer stepping on dead leaves, or a rabbit darting behind brush. It was heavier, more deliberate.
almost a pacing noise as if something was keeping time with me. My foot hesitated on the pedal, and I slowed to a near stop, scanning the undergrowth. A gust of wind rattled the leaves, and for a second, I thought maybe it was just my imagination playing tricks, fueled by the changing stormlight.
But then a shape moved. Dark. Maybe four or five feet off the ground. At first I told myself it had to be an animal, a coyote standing on its hind legs or a stray dog. But it wasn't the right shape for that. Honestly, I couldn't make out a clear outline.
I just remember seeing something large, dark, and quick, and yet it didn't run off like a startled deer or coyote normally would. It was just… watching. For a heartbeat I was frozen. My hand squeezed the handlebars so tight that my knuckles went white. I tried to rationalize.
Maybe it was a person. We had plenty of hunters around, though it wasn't deer season. Or maybe a neighbor's large dog lurking in the brush. But my gut told me this was different.
The figure was upright, nearly my height, even a bit taller, but stooped like it was crouched behind one of the cottonwoods. I could see a faint outline of a head that seemed too narrow, and the eyes, they glinted, catching the bit of fading sunlight. I remember that reflection all too well.
A few long seconds passed. The wind kicked up more dust on the road, and I started to wonder if I should turn around. Instead some teenage bravery or foolishness, I can't decide which, made me inch my bike closer to the fence line. I wanted a better look.
Another part of me wanted to reassure myself it was just my imagination, but I only made it a foot or two before the shape suddenly moved again, darting to the left, deeper into the stand of trees. This wasn't a calm stride. It jerked with speed and agility, like something used to moving on all fours, but forcing itself to move upright.
I remember the bizarre impression of something walking on elongated limbs, the geometry just off from a standard human form. No dog or coyote would have that posture either.
I caught a brief glimpse of something, an arm or leg, covered in a coarse patchy fur, then it vanished behind a wide trunk. It didn't go far. I could still hear it breathing, or maybe that was the wind in the branches.
My mind was reeling. I had this primal sense that it was just beyond my line of sight, waiting. Then came a low, guttural sound, like a half snort, half growl. My pulse thundered in my ears. I don't even remember consciously making the decision to pedal again.
Suddenly, I was back on the bike, pushing those pedals as fast as they could go, the chain rattling, my heart pounding. I flew down that road, all thoughts of meeting my friend forgotten. All I wanted was to get home. The storm hit within minutes, sheets of rain and blasts of wind hammered against me.
Normally, I would have pulled over or taken shelter in a barn or under a sturdy porch roof, but I had no intention of stopping. Thunder boomed, lightning strobe the sky, and each time it lit up the landscape, I'd glance at the tree-line, expecting to see that figure loping along beside me. I never saw it again, but that didn't calm my panic. I could practically feel eyes on me, even if it was just left over terror.
By the time I screeched into our driveway, I was soaked to the bone, shivering. My parents were alarmed because I was white as a sheet. My mom thought maybe I'd nearly been struck by lightning. I couldn't bring myself to tell them the full truth. I muttered something about seeing a weird animal by the trees. My dad, a longtime rancher,
said it might have been a wolf or a large coyote. That night I tried to convince myself he was right, but I knew deep down that I had seen something else.
Over the years, I've talked myself in circles trying to explain it. A trick of the light. A misidentified deer standing oddly. Maybe a big dog, half-hidden by brush, spooked by the storm. Those explanations never sat well with me, though. There was an intelligence in that shape's eyes. Something that made the hair on the back of my neck, prickle.
I've gone back to that same stretch of road a handful of times as an adult, driving with the windows down, scanning the same tree line. It feels different now, older, maybe a bit more open after some of the trees were cleared, but I still get uneasy when the wind rustles the leaves just right. I never told my friend why I bailed on him that day.
We joked about it later. He teased me for missing out on the barn exploration. I just shrugged. It took me a long time to mention the story to anyone, mostly because it sounds too bizarre. If I was reading or hearing someone else say this, I'd think they'd either dreamt it or mixed up details.
but I remember every sensation vividly. The damp air, the greenish storm light, and that feeling that some presence in the trees was sizing me up. I'm in my thirties now, moved away for college, settled in a mid-sized city. Yet whenever I visit home, the open sky and endless roads remind me of that day.
My parents passed a few years back, and I sold the house. But part of me always wants to drive that county road, just to see if anything might be lingering in those trees. I haven't done it. Fear and a sense of closure keep me from going out of my way. Maybe some things are better left in the past, sealed away with the memory of a boy on a rusty bike, racing home under a stormy South Dakota sky.
I can't say what I encountered that afternoon. All I can say is it wasn't a normal coyote, deer, or even a stray dog. And it wasn't a person who waved or hollered at me either. It was something else. Something that moved with a strange and unsettling grace. Something that stood there, half-hidden and watched as I came close. Even now recalling that short glimpse sparks a chill in my gut.
Maybe some mysteries remain unspoken for a reason. Maybe they're not meant to be understood, only remembered. Something broke into our home, from past as witness. I grew up in a small, unincorporated area in rural Georgia, about 40 miles from the nearest, decent-sized town. We weren't completely isolated. There were neighbors.
But they lived far enough away that on a quiet night, you could still hear every cricket chirp, and the occasional coyote howl echoing across the fields. My family owned a modest homestead, a single-story home with creaky wooden floors, and a wraparound porch that saw better days when my grandparents were alive.
The nearest street lamp was half a mile down the main road. So after sunset, everything beyond our windows turned to deep shadow, lit only by moonlight or the distant glow of porch bulbs, if distant folks left them on. Life was slow, simple, and mostly peaceful. But once in a while, something would happen that none of us could fully explain.
This story happened when I was around 9 or 10, maybe 4th grade. I still think about it every now and then, especially during late night storms when the wind howls across the roof. It started on a cool spring evening. I remember it being around mid-March, just after the time change, so the days were getting a bit longer. But that night, the moon was nowhere to be seen behind heavy clouds,
I was in bed early, probably around 8.30 or 9pm, because I had school the next morning. My elder sister, Rose, had her own room across the hall. My parents' bedroom was on the opposite end of our little L-shaped hallway. We had a habit of sleeping with our doors locked. It might sound weird to people from the city. But out in the country, there's an old habit of locking your inside doors, especially if your house isn't in the perfect shape.
We had some trouble with raccoons sneaking in through screen doors, or occasionally having stray dogs nose their way in if the front door was left unlocked. Plus, my dad would always say, if he fell safer behind a locked door, then lock it. So we did.
One night, something stirred me awake, sometime well past midnight. No storm, no thunder, but I distinctively remember hearing a low, steady wind outside. I blinked in the dark. My heart was pounding as if I had just snapped out of a dream. At first, I assumed I'd heard a branch scraping against my window. Maybe the wind had rustled through the bushes near my bedroom. We did have old pine trees out back,
Tall enough that their needles would sometimes scratch the roof when a gust came through. But this was different. A scratching sound, followed by what I could only describe as a heavy dragging noise along the porch.
like someone big and strong, was shuffling slowly, or maybe something with claws was stepping carefully on the wooden boards. I held my breath. Suddenly I was hyper aware of how silent everything was. No frogs, no crickets. That hush told me if there was something out there, everything else had gone into hiding too.
I was a restless kid, always more curious than cautious, but something in me just screamed to stay put to keep still. I sat in my bed, pressing my ear to the thin wooden door of my bedroom. I heard a dull thump on the porch again as though weight, and I mean serious weight, had landed on those boards. My throat went dry,
If it had just been a person, maybe a burglar or a stranger, I'd expect footsteps. Not these weird scraping sounds and panting noises that kept drifting through. Yes, panting, like an animal that had been running and was now sniffing around for a place to rest or feed. And then I caught a shadow moving under my door.
Just for a second, but I swore something had passed right by the sliver of light at the bottom. My heart was going mad. I could hear my own blood rushing through my ears. We had a hallway nightlight, a little bulb in the outlet near the bathroom door, so it wasn't pitch black out there. Even from behind the door, I could see faint outlines of something blocked that light.
I scooted off the bed, tiptoeing closer. My bare feet pressed carefully against the cool wooden floor, avoiding the squeaky spots by memory. There was a soft creaking as weight pressed on a board right outside my door. It took everything in me not to call out for my parents or my sister. But fear gripped me. I did not want to draw attention if some sort of prowler was in the house.
My dad kept a twenty-two by the door in his bedroom. But at the moment, I didn't dare try to go get him or it. I was far too scared. I'd come face to face with whatever it was. Then came the sound that I remember most vividly. A long, low growl. It was so low-pitched and gravelly, like a dog's snarl but deeper. More primal.
That one sound turned my legs to jelly. My little doorknob rattled slightly, as though tested by a large hand or maybe claw on the other side. My mind was reeling. If someone was messing around in our house, they were doing a disturbingly good job at sounding like a wild animal.
I'm not sure how long I stood there, holding my breath, but it felt like ages. If a kid had never had a heart attack before throughout history, I was sure I was about to be the first. Gradually, these scraping footsteps moved away from my door. I heard something brush up against the wall in the hallway, and then, in the distance, a sharper sound.
A crack, followed by the metallic grind of the front door's old hinges. Our front door was a big old wooden slab that had come with the house. Dad replaced the locks, but the frame itself had always been a bit worn out.
If you slammed it just right, it would pop a hinge. But this noise sounded like the whole door had been smashed against its fittings. The frame squilled. I couldn't tell if it was an animal's growl or a man's grunt or perhaps something in between. There was silence again, but only for a moment. Then the scratch scrape of nails or claws across wood.
It moved outside, circling around the porch. I think I might have let out a tiny whimper then. Or maybe it was just the sound of my breath, catching in my throat. I knelt by my bed, crawled underneath my blanket, and waited. I remember not even caring that there were dust bunnies and old toys. I just wanted to be as hidden as possible. Eventually, the noise faded into the distance.
perhaps around the back of the house. I stayed there though, awake for the rest of the night, listening for anything. The quiet came back but I didn't trust it. I wanted to find my parents. I wanted my dad's comforting voice telling me it was just the wind, but I was terrified of opening that door.
If the thing had already found its way inside once, how did I know it wasn't still around? I must have dozed off from exhaustion at some point, because I remember opening my eyes to daylight, streaming through the windows. My bedroom door was still locked. My shoulders were stiff from lying on the floor. My first conscious thought was that maybe I'd dreamt all of it, and I had that fleeting sense of relief that I'd let my imagination get the better of me.
But then my dad's voice thundered through the hall. What in God's name? That got me to my feet in seconds. I pulled open my bedroom door once I was sure the hallway was safe. And I found my dad standing in the living room with a bewildered angry look on his face. Mom and Rose were huddled by the kitchen entrance, eyes wide open.
The front door was off its hinges, not just knocked loose, but torn from the frame, which was splintered around where the lock and deadbolt should have latched. The door itself was lying crooked on the porch steps. A few pieces of wood were scattered around. One hinge was bent nearly straight. The other was hanging off the frame by a single screw.
Dad walked out onto the porch. He carefully touched the big wooden slab as if trying to see how it had been forced open. The porch itself had deep scratches, like claw marks etched into the paint. Some of them looked like big arcs, almost parallel lines about an inch or two apart. There was hair, too. Dark brown or grayish snagged on a nail that had been pulled loose from the railing.
It didn't look like a dog or cat's hair. More like thick patches of fur you would see on a wild boar or something larger. But the color reminded me more of a wolf for coyote. Mom kept pressing dad about what he thought could have done it.
He was furious, thinking maybe it was some stray dog from up the road or some rabid coyote. Tell me if I'm wrong, but coyotes don't usually break doors off hinges, especially not old wooden doors, but still had a functioning deadbolt. Yet, what else could do that kind of damage? A bear, maybe, but we rarely saw them that far south. And if a bear did break in, I doubt it would just leave after ripping off a door.
Dad took a shotgun and walked the perimeter of the house, looking for footprints. I peeked out the doorway, staying close behind him, safe in his shadow. Sure enough in the soft dirt near the porch steps, there were footprints, more like paw prints, but longer. They definitely weren't from a regular dog.
I'd grown up around labs and hounds and plenty of random muts. These tracks were huge, with a shape that hinted at something between a canine's paw and something almost human-like. Dad crouched down, took off his cap, and scratched his head. He was at a loss.
We never found an exact explanation. Later that morning when dad tried to ask folks around if anyone saw strange animals or had livestock attacked, no one offered any real needs. Our neighbors gave us worried looks when we mentioned what happened.
One of them muttered something about, while dogs gone mad. Or wolves coming down from the mountains. But that didn't explain the sheer force needed to tear an entire door down. Another more superstitious neighbor whispered that maybe it was some werewolf.
Half-joking, though, but I did notice he seemed half-serious. You know the way someone might test the waters by saying something silly and playing it off as a joke? It reminded me of that. The next week we replaced the door with a sturdier metal one. It even had a reinforced frame. Dad started staying up a bit later, too, just in case, keeping a shotgun close. He would scan the yard through the windows before bed.
I don't think he ever saw anything after that night, but he did admit to hearing some heavy footsteps on side once or twice over the following months. My sister and I never heard it again, or if we did, maybe we convinced ourselves it was our imagination.
All these years later, we still lock our bedroom doors at night. My parents do too, even though we're all adults with homes of our own. I have told the story to a handful of friends over the years. Some do believe me, others take the story with a laugh.
But my sister and our parents were there that morning. There's no disputing the broken door. If it wasn't something unnatural, then it had to be an animal that we aren't used to dealing with around here. And yet we've lived in Georgia all our lives, and none of us had ever come across claw marks quite like that. My first strange encounter. From Anonymous.
I live in London, and this happened when I went to the store to get some food. I met this homeless man who asked me if I could get him a drink from the store, and I said sure. I was just about to go into the store, but I forgot to ask the person what he would like to drink. As soon as I looked back, he was gone, just disappeared. I had turned my back for maybe five seconds at most, but there was no one there. The street was practically empty,
I don't know if it was a homeless man or if it could have been a ghost of a homeless man. He looked to be in his 30s. It creeped me out enough that I ended up taking the bus home instead of walking like I usually do. My second encounter happened when I was home alone. My mother was getting my brother from school. I was staying at the house and I know my home has ghosts in it. My pet dog and I were chilling in my bedroom and I had just downloaded this ghost app.
I asked if anyone was there. I know it's silly, but I wanted to check it out to see if it works.
Then I heard footsteps in the front of my doorway. I looked straight at my dog who was lying next to me. Then I looked back where my door was. I saw a dark figure, but it moved fast. It was about child-sized, and I remember thinking, nope, I phoned my mother and told her what happened. I left the house so quickly, but as soon as I was about to close my front door, it felt like it was being pushed.
Then the door shut on my finger. That hurt like crazy. I was so scared and in pain, I forgot about my poor dog. You see, my dog is deaf. So even if I could call for my dog, she wouldn't hear anything. But luckily my dog was okay. I went to the bus stop to wait for my mother. My finger felt broken at that point, and it was bleeding pretty bad.
Later that night I was lying in bed watching YouTube on my TV and I suddenly felt someone's hand on my leg. I flinched fast and yet I was alone in my room. My third encounter happened when I was home alone again. I was downstairs at first, just playing on the piano and I stopped for a minute to see if my girlfriend had texted me.
I soon put my phone back down, playing changes by my favorite artist, X. It was then that I felt a tug on my back. My reaction truly seemed to anger the ghost. Later that night, my mom, my brother, and I were looking at our camera footage from our front room. It was about midnight when we saw something truly terrifying.
We spotted a figure beside our kitchen door. It was so odd, I wanted to throw up. It didn't have any eyes, we could see it clear as day though. Where its eye should have been was just blackness, and I mean darker than charcoal. Its fingers were really long, and the body of the thing was skinny, looking to be around six feet tall.
My mom freaked out and started to pray. Then we heard a massive bang downstairs. I just shut the bedroom door, and I tried to sleep until morning. Even in the morning, I was too terrified to go downstairs. Those are my encounters, and thank you for listening.
The story about the furry creature breaking into someone's house in the middle of the night is what my childhood dreams were made of. Heck, even now, I have nightmares about that exact same thing. Do you and your kids a favor? Don't let them watch American Werewolf in London before they're 12 years old. Maybe even later than that. Thanks for tuning in to another episode of Unexplained Encounters. I'm your host, Darkness Prevails. Follow me on X at Dark Prevails.
where I told a funny story recently about what happened when I worked at a certain place when I was younger. If you want to support the show, become a member at ericast.com slash plus, where you can get exclusive members-only bonus content and more.
help us become the biggest scary show on the planet by following and rating unexplained encounters on Spotify and Apple podcasts. If you already have, you can subscribe to Darkness Proveils on YouTube, where I post my stories as well. And as always, send us your scary stories of the unexplained at darkstories.org. Until next time, stay safe out there and stay creepy, because this world is a strange one.
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