14x10: A Robbery and a Murder

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Oh, watch your step.

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Dark?

I know, right?

It's the perfect place to stream horror movies.

Play me.

What movie is that?

I haven't pressed play yet.

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This happened when I was in college.

It was a period of my life when a lot of creepy stuff happened to me.

I'm not sure what I was doing to attract so much weirdness at that time, but I think that probably means I should have been evaluating my life choices a little more closely.

During college, I worked as a tutor at school, but on the weekends, I would sometimes babysit for family friends.

One of the kids who we'll call Chris was actually old enough to not need a babysitter, but he wasn't old enough to watch the younger kid Kevin.

So I was babysitting for this family one Saturday night.

Their parents usually didn't stay out too late.

They often returned home at around 10 p.m.

But sometimes they would return even earlier than that.

I always babysat during their monthly date nights.

However, on this particular night, there was something special going on.

I can't remember what the details were, but I figured they'd be home at around 1 a.m.

based on what they told me.

They offered to let me stay the night since they were going to come back later than usual, but I was 19, so I really didn't mind staying out past 10.

Plus, I knew that I didn't want to stay over there.

Their house honestly had a very weird vibe.

It was in a kind of isolated location, and they had all of these old buildings on the property, like a silo, some sheds, a giant barn, etc.

Maybe I've watched too many horror movies, but all that I could think of was that there were so many places for people to hide.

Also, the house itself was very old and old houses always freak me out, since they could be haunted.

When I was babysitting the kids, Kevin wanted me to go help find something in the basement.

He had all of these costumes that he used to dress up in.

Once he scared the absolute shit out of me when he came up behind me in the dark wearing an ultra-realistic soldier costume while carrying a replica musket.

I could have sworn it was real, but it turned out to be fake.

I nearly lost my shit that night.

The basement was the second creepiest part of the house.

The attic was definitely the most creepy.

So, if he asked me to go up there, that would have been a hard no from me.

The basement wasn't fully finished, even though it was really big with a lot of corners, turns, and hallways leading into a bunch of different rooms.

We went down there, and it was actually my first time going beyond the stairway.

As I was looking around, I kept thinking that if I had been aware of how scary this basement was, there would have been no way in hell I'd be babysitting in this house.

But I of course didn't want to appear nervous or scared in front of a child that I was babysitting, so I went with Kevin to the area where the costumes were being stored, which was, of course, very deep into the basement.

As we were looking for the costume, we heard noises from upstairs that could only be described as footsteps.

At first, I said it must be the other kid, Chris.

But then Chris suddenly appeared in one of the doorways in the basement.

This scared the fucking hell out of me.

When he noticed that I had also heard the footsteps upstairs, he said That's not me.

I remember this moment vividly.

The three of us were standing near the closet that was filled with various costumes of varying creepiness in this tiny room in their sketchy basement, listening to unexpected footsteps from above.

I thought to myself, well, this is how I die.

So I started looking around for a weapon.

This is where watching too many horror movies came in handy for me.

But initially, I wasn't seeing anything because most of the stuff that was stored down there was kids' stuff, and the rest of the basement had very little in it, apart from the washer and dryer.

In the end, I settled on this crowbar that I happened to find randomly lying on the ground.

I just picked it up and prepared to meet our fate as I thought about what kind of risk I might have to consider taking to keep these kids safe.

It was at this moment that I realized something.

The dog wasn't barking.

See, their family had this golden retriever named Lily, who would bark at everything.

Lily was not barking, so I rationalized the sounds to be normal settling noises that old houses tend to make.

Plus, when I actually thought about the layout of the basement, I realized we weren't under the house.

We were actually under the porch.

So if what I was hearing was footsteps, it could have been a delivery driver or something like that.

This realization made me feel a lot better, but you can bet your ass I held onto the crowbar just in case.

Then the kids and I went back upstairs, where we found Lily zonked out deep in sleep.

She was sleeping so soundly that she dolted awake when I touched her.

I then went to the porch and very cautiously opened the door to look for a possible package.

But there wasn't anything there.

I was coming up short on finding anything to substantiate the noise, so I was kind of stressing out, but the kids were already over it.

While they were playing video games, I started googling the crime rates in the area, and that was when Lily suddenly perked up and started barking like a maniac.

Not even one second later, there was a knock at the door.

With my crowbar in hand, I slowly approached the door.

I could see through the frosted glass on the door that somebody was standing there, but I couldn't make out any distinct features.

All that I knew for sure was that someone was out there.

I didn't open the door, but through the door I asked who it was.

The man on the other side of the door said that they were there with a pizza delivery, but I did not order pizza.

And this was before every kid had a cell phone, so I knew that the boys hadn't ordered one either.

Plus, they had been distracted with playing video games.

I knew that their parents hadn't ordered a pizza either since they absolutely would have told me.

So, as I gripped the crowbar, I told the guy that we had not ordered a pizza.

I thought for sure that he was going to insist and try to get me to open the door, but surprisingly he just said, Oh, sorry, my mistake,

and turned around and left.

As I saw the guy step off of the porch through the frosted glass, I opened the door slightly, since I wanted to get a look at him.

Since he was walking away, I only saw his back, but I immediately noticed two strange things.

He didn't have a pizza, and I didn't see his car.

The latter I could rationalize, since it was possible that he parked on the street, but this would have been a strange choice, since this house had a large horseshoe driveway.

But I still figured that's what he might have done.

But I couldn't think of anything to explain why there was no pizza.

At that moment I was expecting a burst of ill-timed bravery and considered calling him out on this, but then I realized that if I did, he'd know that the jig was up and would have nothing to lose.

So I just closed and locked the door.

Later that night, Lily was out again.

The kids were upstairs in bed, and I didn't fall asleep because I was sitting there with a crowbar in my hands on high alert.

But eventually I did doze off for about half an hour when I was woken up by the sound of an owl.

Only it didn't sound right.

It sounded almost like an owl, but something was off about it.

As I look back at this now, what I did next was extraordinarily foolish.

But I think that was because my brain was tired and it wasn't working fast enough.

In my fatigued state, I decided to investigate.

I went to the door and listened.

The owl was still hooting, but it sounded so weird.

I couldn't figure out why it sounded off, so I opened the door to have a better listen.

With the door open, I was able to hear a little better, so I shined the light on my phone into the darkness to try and spot the owl.

This was early 2007, so the light on my phone didn't help much.

and left a lot to be desired.

When the owl hooted again, I honestly gasped, because this was when everything came together for me.

The hooting sounded off because it wasn't an actual owl.

This was a human imitating an owl.

My heart was about to pound right out of my chest as the little beam of light from my phone continued to wimpily attempt to cut through the darkness.

That was when I saw a slight gleam reflecting off of a set of eyes that were at a level I'd expect another human's eyes to be.

The light on my phone was able to catch this, so that meant that whoever was out there was uncomfortably close.

I then bolted back into the house, locked the door, barricaded it with a chair, and retreated into the living room after checking to see that all the windows were locked.

I also grabbed a big knife from the kitchen.

I grabbed the biggest Michael Myers knife that I could find since I legitimately thought that I might need it.

I contemplated calling the police, but I had no idea what I was going to tell them.

What would I say?

Someone with eyes outside is making owl noises?

I knew that they would just be like, it's probably an owl, you idiot.

So I just sat on the couch again, this time clutching both the knife and the crowbar.

I tried not to think about all of the real horror stories that I had read or heard about, especially the ones involving well-meaning babysitters meeting their gruesome ends.

Needless to say, I did not doze off a second time, and at around midnight, the mom and dad came back home.

I texted them to kind of warn them and let them know that I thought I had heard someone outside.

They seemed unbothered by this, though.

As they walked in nonchalantly, I put the knife away before they saw me clinging to it like a shipwreck victim clinging to a piece of floating debris.

This was when they told me that they thought they had heard someone outside a few nights ago, but they didn't think that it was something to inform the babysitter of beforehand.

I then took my well-earned money from the evening, ran to my car, and got out of there.

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Now that's a story worth telling.

Wild turkey, trust your spirit.

Copyright 2025, Copari America, New York, New York.

Never compromise, drink responsibly.

It's time to head back to school and forward to your future with Carrington College.

For over 55 years, we've helped train the next generation of healthcare professionals.

Apply now to get hands-on training from teachers with real-world experience.

And as few as nine months, you could start making a difference in healthcare.

Classes start soon in Pleasant Hill, San Leandro, and San Jose.

Visit Carrington.edu to see what's next for you.

Visit Visit Carrington.edu slash SCI for information on program outcomes.

Oh, watch your step.

Wow, your attic is so dark.

Dark.

I know, right?

It's the perfect place to stream horror movies.

Flick me.

What movie is that?

I haven't pressed play yet.

ATNC Fiber with Al-Fi covers your whole house.

Even your really, really creepy attic turned home theater.

Jimmy, what have I told you about skinning your guests?

Get ATNC Fiber with Al-Fi and live like a gagillionaire.

Limited availability coverage may require extenders at additional charge.

This happened approximately 10 years ago.

I was living with someone at the time.

He worked a schedule opposite mine.

He was working a graveyard shift while I was working during the day, so whenever I was just getting up to get ready for work, he was just coming home.

On the weeknights, I would be home all by myself.

One night, I was feeling especially lonely as my favorite adult toy was broken, so I decided to drive downtown to the twenty four hour adult store to buy another one.

The town that I live in is a mid sized suburban town filled with mostly residential neighborhoods, so the main downtown area was essentially one small shopping area with a few bars and restaurants that was located near a freeway.

My apartment was only ten minutes away.

So I pulled into the parking lot behind the adult store.

The parking lot was dark and had multiple entries all around that led to the bars and restaurants as well as the store.

After parking my car I walked towards the entrance of the store which was on the street.

To do so I had to walk back towards the driveway where I pulled into the park.

Upon walking to the entrance I noticed a man standing by himself smoking a cigarette.

It was 1 a.m., so it didn't strike me as normal to see a person randomly standing there by themselves, but I brushed it off and figured that he had to have been one of the patrons from one of the bars.

I assumed he was just stepping outside for a cigarette break.

As I walked past him, he said hi.

To this, I responded back with a quiet hello.

But I didn't make eye contact.

As I passed him, I got a better look at at his appearance.

He had a shaved head and he was wearing a long white t-shirt with shorts hanging past his knees.

He was also wearing a pair of sneakers with some tube socks that covered his shins.

Nothing seemed unusual about his appearance, but I was concerned that he was by himself, especially since he instantly took an interest in me as soon as I appeared.

After passing him and continuing on to the store, out of the corner of my eye I saw that the man started to follow me.

He immediately started going the same way as I was, as soon as I passed him.

He made a point to maintain the same walking speed as well.

I didn't know his intentions, but a man by himself that late at night is a recipe for trouble.

As I looked down the dark and empty street, I weighed out my options of where to go.

Initially I thought to keep walking, since he had no idea I was going to the adult store, but since it was one in the morning and there was nobody on the street, I thought that that would have been more dangerous.

Then I thought, I could just pop into one of the bars.

But I worried about that giving him an easy excuse to approach me, so I ultimately decided my best bet was to continue on with going to the store as I planned, since I knew it was a well lit place where people could see me.

I then proceeded to shop for what I went there for,

and the man entered the store behind me, but he just hung out in the front of the store so as not to look like he was following me around.

He wasn't even pretending to shop.

He literally just stood in the front part of the store and waited.

As I was shopping, I heard the man make a pst sound,

which I ignored.

He wasn't getting the message, though, so he continued making that sound, as I nonchalantly continued to shop.

Eventually I walked up to the cashier, who was completely oblivious, and I tried to quietly ask the cashier if they knew the man or if he worked there.

But the cashier asked me to repeat myself.

So I asked again, but maintained a quiet voice.

The cashier still wasn't understanding my attempt to be discreet, so they responded, I can't hear you.

say it again.

My cover was blown.

So, in a more normal tone, I told the cashier that the man in front was following me from outside and made it clear that he wasn't going to leave me alone.

I said that my car was parked in the lot behind the store and didn't feel comfortable going there.

The cash wrap area was enclosed by a square-shaped counter to help the staff maintain a distance between themselves and the customers.

The cashier walked to the area within the enclosed space that was closest to the front of the store where the man was.

From behind the counter the cashier told the man to leave and then reapproached me and assured me that he told the man to go away, but the man did not in fact go away.

He continued to stand there.

Given that I didn't want him to follow me to my car, I stayed in the store and pretended I was still shopping even though I had already found what I went there for.

As I kept browsing, I occasionally glanced to the front and I would see the man still there.

I went back to the cashier and let them know that the man hadn't left, so he went up to the front and talked to the guy again.

Enough already, you need to leave the store, the cashier said.

While he was doing this, I went to the far back end of the store so I'd be completely out of sight.

By the time I circled back to the cashier, I noticed that the man was no longer in the store.

The cashier said that he repeatedly asked the man to leave, and even had to get more assertive since the man was just lingering.

He said that the man claimed that he didn't understand English.

So the cashier then pulled out a baton that he kept under the counter for protection.

He held it over his head and asked the man, Do you understand this?

The man finally left the store.

I proceeded with my purchase but was still worried about walking to my car, even though I was parked in one of the first spaces just past the driveway.

The cashier pointed to a small T V behind him that had four angles of C C T V footage running.

He assured me that the man was gone, as he was nowhere to be found on the footage.

He said if I saw him out there I could just come back into the store.

He also said that he would watch me as I walked to my car, even though I would have felt more comfortable with him escorting me, but I understood that he was by himself and couldn't leave the store unattended as there were other customers.

After making my purchase, I walked fast to my car.

I always have my keys ready when walking to my car, so I promptly pressed unlock on the car remote.

I got in the car and I placed my bag of purchases on the passenger seat before starting the engine.

Once I turned my key in the ignition, I took off the e-brake and put the car into reverse.

As I was fastening my seat belt I looked in the side view mirror.

It was at this point that I saw that same man speed walking right to my driver's side door.

Thankfully I was driving a Honda Accord at the time, and the model I had automatically locked all of the doors as soon as the car was shifted out of park.

As soon as I saw him I hit the gas and urgently pulled out of the parking space.

I pulled out so fast that it startled him and stopped him dead in his tracks.

He froze right next to my driver's side door as I continued to reverse out of the parking space.

As I was doing so, I gave him the most serious death glare that I could, since most predators play off of the fear of their victims.

I wanted to make it abundantly clear that I wasn't afraid of him.

This tactic must have worked, since he then turned on his heel and proceeded to walk back to where he was standing when I initially saw him.

As he made this walk of shame, he had this look of defeat etched on his face.

Meanwhile, my face, which had been contorted into this death glare, was overcome with relief, as it softened at the sight of him walking away.

I then peeled out of the parking lot and drove myself back home.

After this happened, I felt a bit of shame for going out so late.

I told my boyfriend about the incident when he came home at 6 AM.

He also agreed that I shouldn't have gone out that late.

I'm no longer with that person, but I still live in the same town and I never leave home past 9 p.m.

anymore.

While the town I live in isn't the most dangerous, it's also not considered the safest as crime occurs fairly regularly.

So to the man who decided to follow me at 1 a.m., I know you had sinister intentions.

Let's not meet.

In 2011, I was 27.

I was living in Buenos Aires at the time.

I had returned to the U.S.

after a while for my grandmother's funeral.

I also had to have surgery on my throat as I had developed a tumor after getting the flu.

Thankfully, it turned out to be benign, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I felt so relieved.

During my time in Buenos Aires, I made some good friends with whom I still keep in touch with to this day.

However, even though I've always been an excellent judge of character, somehow I made a friend there who kept his sinister intentions well hidden.

But as I look back now, I see that the warning signs were actually everywhere.

My friend's name was Bill.

It's been so long that I can't fully recall how we met.

I think it was at some kind of expat function or a party.

In any case, when I reflect on it, I'm unsure of how we struck up a friendship since Bill never really looked all that friendly.

He was a slightly overweight, average-looking, bald guy with a strange-shaped head.

He may not have looked friendly, but he exuded confidence and charisma.

He just had the overall feeling of being a simple, friendly guy.

We managed to hit it off well in our initial meeting and agreed to keep in touch.

We then started hanging out by going to bars for drinks or to clubs if we wanted to party.

It happened so fast, it was like we had become partners in crime.

All the while, I was completely unaware of his psychopathic tendencies.

Bill was nice and charismatic.

He was a good friend who just seemed to be stressed with his financial business in Argentina.

The man was very smart.

One night we went out to a club.

On our way there, Bill started rustling around in his wallet and exclaimed, Fuck, hey man, you think I could borrow a hundred pesos from you?

At the time, a hundred pesos was equivalent to about twenty bucks in US dollars.

So I replied, Sure, man, of course.

He said, Don't worry, I will pay you back.

And I said, Yeah, man, it's cool, no problem.

And with that I gave Bill the money.

We ended up having a good time as usual, and then went back home.

About one week went by, and we had already met up a few times since then.

We had even gone to the club again, but he still hadn't returned the money.

At the time, I wasn't in the best financial state, so I felt forced to ask for my money back.

This is something that I hate doing and something I don't do often.

With a quizzical look on his face, Bill replied, I gave it back to you already, remember?

I replied, No, you didn't.

But then I quickly found myself doubling back as I asked, wait, did you?

Yeah, of course, man, he insisted.

He was very good at lying.

This genuinely made me question myself, and I thought maybe I had just forgotten.

But the thing is, when you're next to broke, you remember anything and everything related to money.

Even though he was saying that he was certain that he had paid me back, I knew he had not.

We went back and forth for a bit until I said, Hey, it's fine if you don't have it.

But I know for a fact that you didn't pay me back.

When Bill realized I wasn't going to be swayed, he said, No, no, it's cool, man.

I just felt for sure that I gave you that money back.

If you said I I didn't, then I probably didn't.

I could have sworn that I did, though.

I wasn't even mad at him, I just figured that the man was going through some hard times.

Financial stress can do weird things to people, so I just figured that's what was going on.

He ended up giving me the money back, and I quickly shrugged off the whole thing.

Everything was normal for a while until a few months later.

One day, Bill called me after I returned to LA for the emergency surgery on my throat and my grandma's funeral.

Hey, it's Bill.

How are things?

he asked.

We exchanged the usual pleasantries and chit-chat,

and then he elaborated on the reason for his call.

Listen, he said, I have a business proposition for you.

All I need is your ID.

Just by giving me your ID, you could be making five hundred bucks a month.

At the time, I was young, jobless, and temporarily had to move back in with my parents.

I know most of you listening out there are wondering how I could be so naive.

But you must understand that Bill was my friend.

I had 100% trust in him.

He ended up paying me back the money that he owed me even after he believed he didn't owe me, so I had no reason to suspect that this was a scheme.

Of course, now I ask myself how I let this happen, but that's just how psychopathic this guy was.

That Ted Bundy charisma of his was well tuned.

After giving him the go-ahead, I emailed Bill about the business and money for weeks.

At first, I only got short responses until eventually I got no communication at all.

That was when I started to feel weird, and alarm bells started ringing.

Then one day out of the blue, another friend of mine emailed me a link to an FBI bulletin.

It turned out, my friend Bill was an international fugitive.

He was on the run from U.S.

authorities for fraud and had fled to Argentina.

This guy created a customer service sham of a business and defrauded dozens of people in the process, including me.

I never talked to Bill again, but it was the first time and the only time in my life that I've met anyone as cunning, calculated, and as cold as him.

I still have the emails that he sent me from when we were quote-unquote friends.

It's pretty unbelievable, looking back on those now.

Want a bourbon with the story?

American-made wild turkey never compromises.

Aged longer for more bold, rich character.

Our pre-Prohibition-style bourbons are distilled and barreled at a low proof to retain the most flavor.

Most bourbons aren't.

Well, we aren't most bourbons.

Wild Turkey 101 bourbon makes an old-fashioned to bold fashion for bold nights out or at home.

Now that's a story worth telling.

Wild Turkey, trust your spirit.

Copyright 2025 Capari America, New York, New York.

Never compromise.

Drink responsibly.

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I was about 14 years old when this happened.

I had skipped school and decided to go to the mall.

This mall was known to have creepy teenagers and men following girls around and hitting on them.

I'd had some minor experiences with this, but when I got there, it was 8 a.m., so I didn't think any creepers would be at the mall that early.

But even though it was bright and early, some of them were already out and about.

After I got off of the bus, I walked over to an entrance that had a little playground beside it.

I figured that this would be one of the safer spots to go to around the mall, as I assumed plenty of families and kids would be there.

So I sat down at a swing and I pulled out my phone to pass the time until I could go back home.

There was this old lady there with her granddaughter on the slide nearby, and I felt safe being near them.

About five minutes later, I looked up from scrolling on my phone when I heard the voices and screams of teenage boys.

Seconds after that, they were running around and causing a commotion.

At that moment, I started feeling not so safe any more because I knew to expect the worst.

I actually knew of these guys.

Everyone in town knew of these guys.

They were only a few years older than me, and they weren't nice people.

When these boys started looking at me and acting sneakily, I stood up to go inside.

I thought that I could probably find a crowd inside the mall that was big enough to lose them in if they tried to follow me.

I then went into a store in the mall to buy myself something to take my mind off of the situation.

I didn't hear them or see them after I walked into the store, so after I walked back out into the mall, I sat on a couch in the lounge area.

I thought I had lost them, but I didn't feel safe.

Honestly, I think I knew that I wouldn't have felt safe until I was out of there and heading home.

A minute or two later, I saw them again.

When I saw them I stood up right away and walked to the bathroom, which was at the end of a huge hall.

They followed me into the hall, so I walked faster until I reached the girls' bathroom.

I went into one of the stalls and I stayed there for about thirty to forty minutes.

I just kept scrolling on my phone until I thought it had been long enough for them to give up and leave.

When I emerged from the stall, I started washing my hands, and I saw that they were still lingering out there.

Six boys were now peering into the girls' bathroom.

The bathrooms had no doors,

just an open doorway.

They were looking right at me and joking amongst themselves.

A couple of them were even close enough to the doorway to be considered fully inside the bathroom.

This made me feel uneasy.

I remember hearing one of them say, Yeah, that's her, after peering in at me as I was at the sink.

As I continued washing my hands, I was frantically trying to come up with a plan.

I wondered, do I just risk it and walk out?

Do I call someone to get me?

Do I ask someone to walk with me?

As I looked around the bathroom, I noticed three other women in there, so I went to the third option.

The closest one to me appeared to be around 40 years old.

As she was drying her hands, I had an internal fight with myself debating whether or not I should ask her to walk with me.

I was shaking since I was nervous, but I impulsively decided to do it because I knew it was my safest option.

When I gained the courage to speak up, I said, Excuse me.

I'm sorry, but can I walk out with you?

That group of guys has been following me around almost all morning, and they're waiting for me outside.

There was

The woman then explained the situation to her husband.

I could see that he didn't fully believe or at least understand the situation, but he agreed to let me walk down the long hallway with him and his wife.

When we reached the end of the long hallway, they went their way and I made a beeline for the exit as quickly as I could.

When I passed a security guard I felt safer, but not as safe as when I got out of the mall.

When I was outside getting some fresh air, I realized how panicked I was.

I then made my way to the bus stop.

It was too early for me to be heading home, but I wanted to get back home so badly that I didn't even care if anyone found out I had skipped school.

Since then, I've avoided that mall as much as I can.

I don't know what could have happened if I decided to walk out of the bathroom by myself that day.

What if I wasn't focused on my surroundings?

To the woman and her husband who walked with me, thank you.

But to those guys, let's not meet.

I used to live in an apartment complex on the first floor.

I had one person right next door, Joe, and two more neighbors who lived adjacent to us.

I initially met my next door neighbor Joe one early evening when he knocked on the door as the sun was just about to set.

He was plump with a brown bowl cut, and he was wearing glasses and a button-down shirt.

He had told me that he had been knocking on all of the doors, asking if someone could babysit his dog for the weekend since he was, allegedly, being called away for a last-minute work trip.

I agreed to watch his dog, and since I was concerned that possible problems could arrive with his dog, I asked for his number and assured him I only needed it just in case.

I didn't realize it then, but that was a major mistake.

I was just trying to be a good neighbor.

We then had a short conversation about my love for video games and playing Dungeons and Dragons.

It quickly became apparent that we had mutual interests, but I was just being friendly.

Plus, I had a wedding ring on, and I made sure to brush my hand across my face to make sure that he saw it, since I was home alone, and my husband was deployed at the time.

I honestly didn't think anything of it.

When Joe came back the following morning, I handed him his key.

I hadn't asked for any kind of payment for looking out for his dog, but he offered to pay me back.

He said that his office was having an escape the room event, and that he was allowed to bring a friend.

I agreed and figured why not, he seemed like a cool guy who could possibly be a new friend.

When the day came, I wasn't feeling very well, so I was huddled up on the couch wrapped in blankets with my sweet little cockapoo Cortana.

I was so sick that day that I wasn't even able to go to work, so I sent Joe a text letting him know that I wouldn't be able to make it and told him not to worry about paying me back.

He responded with, uh, okay.

I didn't respond.

I just fell asleep.

Over the next several weeks I received text messages from him, but the context just didn't add up until the very end.

First, he texted me, asking me why I hadn't invited him to play D and D.

I remember wondering how he knew I was currently playing.

I told him he must have misheard, and I let him know that he probably just heard me talking about D and D with a friend in the hallway as we were heading out.

Things then started to get a little strange.

Just beyond his door, there's a nice sized patch of grass where I take Cortana to go potty.

She's a mild mannered dog and usually just sniffs at everything on the ground without bothering to look up as she's exploring or focusing on going potty.

She never had any problems going to this patch of grass before, but then she started turning towards Joe's window, which was covered with the blinds closed.

She began barking hysterically.

I was embarrassed when she started doing this, since this behavior was so out of character for her.

I would pull her back and command her to hush, but it was always to no avail.

Every day that I took her out to that patch of grass in the afternoon, she would consistently bark at that window like a maniac.

I eventually had to start taking her somewhere else to see if her behavior would change.

And it did.

About a week later, I passed Joe's place.

His blinds were actually open all the way to the top.

The window itself was also open, and Joe popped his entire torso out as he stretched his arms to the sky.

It was awkward.

So I just greeted him with an awkward hello in return as I hurried Cortana along to get back to our apartment.

That was when I started hearing unexpected knocking on my door every other day.

Whenever I heard these knocks, I'd become deadly quiet and tiptoe to the door, and always see that it was Joe.

He would always be standing there at my door, peering intently into the peephole.

I never opened the door when he did this, though.

The knocking stopped after several occurrences, and after some time went by, I received a text from Joe, offering to take me out to dinner.

I was perplexed by this message, and I remember staring at it, not knowing what to say.

Before I knew it, the lull had lasted three minutes, and I guess he just couldn't stand it, since he then sent another message.

I'm trying to be friendly after you ditched me in all caps.

Joe then said, Sorry for being friendly.

I should have taken a picture of my face because the shock was so great that Cortana sat up at attention and stared at me.

I'm kind of a busy woman.

I have a lot going on, so I never really text people back immediately.

I was pretty freaked out by this, so I decided to call my mom.

I was starting to feel unsafe in my own home since I didn't know what this guy would do.

What if he decided to try and break into my apartment?

What if he attacked me?

All because I quote-unquote ditched him when I felt too sick to attend his workplace's escape the room event.

My mom advised that I firmly let him know know that my husband wouldn't appreciate me having dinner with another man.

She also said I should tell him that his behavior was highly inappropriate.

I couldn't believe it took me mentioning my husband for Joe to back off.

The cues of me ignoring him and practically running into my apartment when I heard him weren't enough.

After all of that, Cortana turned to the window every once in a while to let out a low growl.

I eventually moved out and thankfully never heard from Joe Joe again.

But just in case, let's not meet.

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I was 16 when I met this kid down the street from my house.

He struck up a conversation with me, said that he had seen me around and suggested that we hang out.

I figured why not, so I gave him my number and told him to hit me up.

The following week, I got a text from him asking if I wanted to play basketball.

I said yes to this, and he then asked if I smoke weed.

I did, so he asked if I could bring some, which wasn't an out-of-the-ordinary question for teenagers.

I ended up bringing a couple of friends since I figured we would need more people if we were going to play basketball, and to be honest, I was pretty fucking stoned at the time when we got there.

Where we were meeting up was a little ways away from our neighborhood, but it wasn't a bad neighborhood, so nothing seemed too odd.

Right when we got there, my friends and I were ambushed as soon as we got out of the car.

There were three guys on each of us.

My two friends and I were violently beaten.

My best friend was stabbed, but thankfully, only had a superficial wound.

The guys who were on me held a gun to my head before pistol whipping me.

They then choked me until I was unconscious.

While I was out, they went through my pockets and got my cell phone and wallet.

When I came to I realized I had blood all over my face from my nose being broken.

Both of my eyes ended up swelling shut later on, but before they did, I was able to drive myself and my friends to a nearby gas station.

As soon as I walked into the gas station the clerk's jaw dropped.

I asked him where the bathroom was, and all he could do was point in the general direction.

I cleaned myself up, as best as I could, before driving home to call the cops and take a shower.

After I spoke to the cops, an undercover cop showed up and said that he knew exactly who robbed me.

Turns out it was the guy who initially tried to be my friend.

He was an informant of theirs who reneged on the deal and ended up robbing a person who was trying to buy drugs.

I told the cops how violent this guy was, as well as the others.

I told them that I swore these guys guys would probably kill the next person if they weren't stopped.

Two months later, the cops returned to my house and my mom answered the door.

I was asleep, but she told them that they could go ahead and go into my room to talk to me.

Once they woke me up, they held up a photo and asked, who is this?

How would I know?

I replied.

I've never seen that person before.

Your phone records indicate that you called this person from your cell phone, they explained.

Are you talking about the phone records for the phone I reported as stolen when I was violently robbed two months ago?

You should probably go and reread that police report, I replied.

They apologized and said that my stolen phone was used to set up a robbery, and they let me know that the person in the photo had been shot to death as a result.

I told you that these guys were violent, I said.

I told you that they would kill the next guy.

The cops who initially entered my room in blazing glory ended up leaving in shame.

That assailant is still out there, and I've been keeping tabs on him and his buddies for seventeen years.

I have PTSD and extreme issues with trusting people, even those who are closest to me.

So, to all those guys, let's not meet again.

Back in 2013, I lived in Providence, Rhode Island, since I had moved there for a new job.

It was just me living there in a quaint and spacious townhouse with my then four-year-old daughter.

We were relatively new to the area and didn't know many people, but we did become familiar with the kind older gentleman who lived next door.

For this story, we will say that his name was Ben.

We lived in a connected townhouse with our two units abutting each other.

Our street was lined with beautiful floral trees and was quite nice, but Providence was weird in the sense that the conditions of the houses and neighborhoods can vary drastically street by street.

We were near a few rough neighborhoods, but I felt relatively safe safe in my specific neighborhood and my new home.

I remember a few nights before this particular night, I saw a Facebook post with a safety tip that suggested keeping your car keys next to your bedside.

I did this so that if anything ever happens or if anyone is outside, I could press the alarm on my key fob to scare off the intruder.

While I saw these safety tips, I had never been overly concerned about my safety, so I rarely took advantage of any tips that I came across, so I'm not sure how or why I suddenly decided to heed the advice about my car keys.

Anyway, I was in my second floor bedroom hours after putting my daughter to sleep, reading a book in bed when I heard a loud noise outside.

I peered out the window to get a better look, but I didn't see anything.

I had taken some melatonin that evening, so after that I turned off the light and went to sleep.

About half an hour or so later, I was suddenly awoken by what felt like an earthquake.

My entire room shook, and I heard a loud thud.

Half awake, I gasped as I sat up.

I immediately wondered if it was my imagination or if I actually felt something.

Then I quickly ran to my daughter's room, thinking she must have fallen off the bed or injured herself or something.

As I swung her door wide open, I saw her sleeping soundly and sweetly in her bed.

While this was a relief, I was still so confused.

Then I heard another loud bang and was overcome with an eerie feeling that something was very wrong.

But I couldn't figure out what it was.

So I grabbed my key fob and took it downstairs with me, clutching it as I nervously inspected the first floor.

I swore to myself that if I heard heard one more sound I was going to press that alarm just in case.

But I didn't.

Everything fell silent after that, so I returned to bed, but it took a while for me to fall asleep again.

The next day went on like any other day, until a friend of mine started repeatedly calling me in the afternoon.

After I picked up my daughter from preschool, I finally noticed all of the missed calls, so I called that friend back.

My friend asked,

I immediately fell to my knees and began sobbing since I realized I had heard all of that happen.

These noises were so loud that I almost pressed my car alarm button.

I was so close to doing it, but I didn't.

This news made me feel completely unsafe, so I asked another friend to come over for the night to stay with me and my daughter.

The next day, I finally got the chance to speak to Ben.

Ben explained the whole story and told me that the cops were interested in talking to me so that I could share what I had heard and experienced.

He said that the men smashed the window in his basement and gained entry to his house through there.

I believe this to be the sound that I heard.

Turns out, the timelight they had come up with suggested the intruders must have seen the light from my room, along with me peering out the window, so after I turned my light off, they waited for 30 minutes or so before entering the premises.

They didn't realize Ben was home, and he had been asleep when one of them was rummaging through his stuff upstairs in his bedroom, which was directly on the other side of my closet through a shared wall.

The sounds and shakes that I heard and felt were from the intruders knocking Ben down to the ground after realizing he was there.

The intruder then cucked Ben's mouth and told him that if he made another sound, he would kill him.

This was why I never heard another sound thereafter.

After they tied him up, he remained tied up for twelve hours until he eventually broke himself free to call the cops.

I cried as Ben told me all of this and apologized profusely as I described what I heard.

He simply said that he was tied up, and all he could think about was how he was glad the intruders didn't go over to my place and do this to me and my little girl girl instead.

Ben seemed to be okay considering everything, but it took me a long time to feel safe in that neighborhood again.

The police never caught the guys who did this and I ended up ordering a taser and some mace.

I also considered getting a gun for the first time in my life but ultimately decided against it.

I've been fortunate never to experience anything close to that again and certainly do not want to.

I'm glad that Ben wasn't harmed, but the next time I hear anything that raises any suspicion, I won't be questioning my instincts.

It's better to be safe than sorry, after all.

To the three men who tied up and robbed my old neighbor, Let's Not Meet.

Thanks so much for listening.

If you're interested in learning more about the show and getting to know us, as well as chatting with other fans and listeners, we've combined our odd trails and Let's Not Meet Discord servers.

I'll leave an invite link in the show notes if you'd like to join.

If you're a patron, stick around after the music for your extended ad-free version of this week's episode.

If you'd like to get access, go to patreon.com forward slash Let's Not Meet podcast to sign up and support the show today.

You'll get access to ad-free versions of all of the episodes with bonus content every single week containing stories you won't hear anywhere else.

This week you have heard It Wasn't an Owl by Twig Vicious, Almost Kidnapped at an Adult Store by Triple F Chronicles, My Friend the Psychopath by X-Toll, They Waited for Me by Kings Dead FS, My Dog Knew That My Neighbor Was Watching Me by Goddess of Doom, A Robbery and a Murder by Mimsy Were the Burogove, and finally, The Sound Next Door by Katasha.

All of the stories you've heard this week were narrated and produced with the permission of their respective authors.

Let's Not Meet a True Horror podcast is not associated with Reddit or any other message boards online.

If you have a story to share, send it to let's not meetstories at gmail.com.

Finally, be sure to check out the new episodes of my other podcasts like Odd Trails, Cryptic Encounters, and the Old Time Radio Cast, all at crypticcountypodcasts.com.

I'll see you all next week.

Stay safe.

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