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Welcome weirdos.
I'm Darren Marler and this is Weird Darkness.
Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and
bizarre, primed, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved, and unexplained.
This is a fireside fright episode where I put away all of the music, the sound effects,
and fancy production.
It's just you, me, this campfire, and whatever sounds nature wants to give us in the background.
If you're new here, welcome to the show.
And while you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, my newsletter,
to enter contests, to connect with me on social media.
Plus you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you're struggling with depression or
dark thoughts.
You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com.
Now, Bulgerdors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness.
We'll begin our fireside fright with a story from Samantha.
The story is she titles it who is upstairs.
To set up the story, you need to know a few things, she says.
I don't personally believe in spirits, per se, but I am open-minded and believe there is
something strange in the world.
My father doesn't believe in spirits at all.
He is a very logical man.
That being said, if you presented him with solid evidence, he would not dismiss it.
Even without the belief, my dad is careful.
He won't mess with Weezha boards or any of that stuff.
And when he was buying our house, he straight up asked the realtor if the place was haunted
or if anyone had died in it.
Well, Samantha, it sounds like your dad is a believer.
If he's asking those kind of questions.
Okay, anyway.
To answer the answer to both of those questions was no, and we've lived here now for over 15 years.
We moved in when I was fairly young.
I had two weird things happened to me, years apart.
I don't know if they're paranormal, but they were certainly unusual.
The first happened when I was probably about 13 or 14.
Our house is a bungalow with stairs right inside the door that lead down to the basement.
It's kind of our rec run with our TV and game consoles.
We've always had great sound systems.
We love things with heavy bass or really cool sounds.
So one weekend I decided to stay home while my parents and older brother went to town.
It's chance to blast some awesome music.
Now since it's the summer, most of the windows are opened.
The patio door is open, man. The door is open, leaving a screen door closed.
As many people do, we use the door on the side of the house, not the very front.
That one stays closed and locked most of the time.
But I live in a fairly safe place.
You don't really have to worry about leaving your door unlocked.
So here I am listening to my music way too loud when suddenly I hear the door slam shut.
I pause the music and listen.
I'm confused.
I know I heard it.
When that door slammed shut, it makes a very distinct sound.
It was definitely my door and it was too loud to be the neighbor's door.
Maybe my family's home, but I don't know why they would close the inside door.
I listen for another moment and don't hear them.
I think it may be the door slammed shut on its own.
There was some wind and perhaps the open windows caused a cross breeze.
Oddly enough, I didn't even think about it, but being an intruder at first.
Instead of leaving it at that, I decided to look up the stairs.
I stopped at the bottom and looked up.
The door is wide open. I just stare at it.
I know I heard it slam and with that sound, it would have shut for sure and been unable to reopen on its own.
I slowly ascended the stairs.
Weary, I look all around the house, not a single person but me.
I'm on edge now, so to make myself feel better, I close and lock the door, both the deadbolt and the lock on the handle.
Though I don't close anything else, I feel more at ease.
I go back downstairs and resume my music.
Not five minutes later, I jump at the sound of the door slamming again.
I sit there, heart racing, there's no way!
I run to the stairs, the door is shut.
I go and check it, but it is still locked.
It was definitely that door. The sound was too loud to be anything else.
I go back downstairs, but don't restart my music.
Eventually I relax enough to continue watching stuff and I don't hear the door again.
Fast forward to now, nearly 10 years later.
Yes, my brother and I still both live at home, no judgments.
Housing is super expensive right now, Raelif, and my family has always been close, so we were never
pressured to move out.
We help with chores and bills and groceries, so our parents don't mind.
This only happened a few weeks ago.
It was another weekend, I was downstairs again, half asleep on the couch.
My brother is upstairs in his room, and my parents are out running errands.
I get a text from my dad about supper, I reply and start to do as again.
A few minutes later, I hear movement upstairs in the kitchen, which is what you have to go through
to get to the bedrooms from the door.
I hear the door open and shut.
I assume it's my brother.
My dad probably messaged him to come give them a hand with taking things in.
I'm a little confused because the text my dad had sent before made it sound like they hadn't
gotten supper yet, so I didn't expect them home yet, but still I grabbed my phone,
waiting for him to send me a text as well, asking for a hand.
Nothing.
I hear the door again.
This time I hear talking.
Now I'm still sleepy, but I recognize what I believe is my mom talking to my brother.
They talk for a while, more movement than the door again, and quiet.
My next line of thinking is, okay, mom was tired or not feeling the best and got dad to
take her home.
And now he and my brother are going back for food.
It's happened before.
Then I remembered the text my dad had sent me, saying my brother was getting food at the same
place I was and was it okay to use my card because it was already in the restaurant's app.
I replied a quick yes and put my phone down, but I looked back again and I was right.
They should not be home yet.
So I text him, are you home?
He replies with, no why?
I think for a minute before asking, are you really, or are you home and just saying that?
We'd like to joke around, so maybe he's pretending that he's not and we'll walk in the door
a moment later.
He says no again, and tells me where he is, which would have been at least 20 minutes from
our house or more, depending on traffic.
So I go upstairs, nothing looks odd, the door is closed, then my brother happens to come
to the kitchen for some water.
I ask him, were you out here a little while ago?
He replies with yes, so I ask him if he went outside or was talking with anybody or talking
to himself.
He said he didn't go outside or even open the door and he was humming to himself but wasn't
talking.
I tell him what I heard, and he's confused too, since mom obviously wasn't here and he
has not seen anyone.
He doesn't even sound like her, and I would not mistake the two, even half asleep.
I'm very unsettled now.
When they do get home, I tell my dad, knowing he won't believe it's paranormal and I'm not
sure I do either, but knowing something was weird and I couldn't explain it.
My mom had not come home early, she was with my dad the whole time, and they didn't call
my brother or anything, so why did I hear her voice, and who was coming in and out of the
house?
If one I heard was real, someone would have still been inside, and my brother certainly would
have seen them if someone had randomly walked in.
It could have been a sort of dream from being half asleep, but after the first time I heard
the door, I had woken myself up because I thought I would have to go upstairs.
To this day, I don't know how to explain either of those instances, and maybe I never
will.
That's a great entry there, Samantha.
That is some creepy stuff.
Interesting, it happened to you 10 years apart though.
I think if you had a haunted house, you'd see stuff like this more often.
At first time, and then maybe a few weeks later, a few months later, but a whole 10 years before
this entity or whatever it is, decides to show it's head again, that's kind of strange.
I will say that I don't know if you heard that, it's my phone going off, that's okay, I'll
catch that later.
I will say this is a perfect reason to have a home security system, because at least if you
have a security system, you know.
There goes, there goes again.
At least if you have a security system, you know that somebody's walked into the house because
that door would open and it would trigger the security system.
Unless you've got a smart ghost that knows the code to your security system, I don't know,
but that is some freaky stuff there, Samantha.
I bring up the security system because today, March 17, 2020, 23 is the first day for an
new sponsor for us, it's ADT, and they're actually giving away free home security systems.
You have to do is go to WeirdDarkness/sugzmete.
WeirdDarkness.com/ADT, and you can learn more about that.
I'm not going to push it right here right now, just want to mention it because they're a new
sponsor and I'm pretty excited about it.
That's WeirdDarkness.com/ADT.
Thank you for the story, Samantha.
That was really good.
Our next story comes from Jeff.
He says, "Hey there, Darren.
I want to tell you a true ghost story from my childhood.
It's pretty cool."
My parents divorced when I was still a baby and he lived out of state.
Thus I grew up not knowing my father or having a father figure at all.
When I was about 11 years old, I cried to God one night to please, please, bring my father
into my life.
I cried about my father like I never had before.
To my utter surprise and amazement, two weeks later, I came home on a Sunday after spending
the weekend at my great aunt and uncles and was told by my mother that my father had moved
back to Michigan and was living in his hometown.
This was only a few towns away from where we lived.
My mother told me that my father wanted to talk to me and to see me.
She said it was my choice.
That, after never writing, not ever sending a birthday or Christmas card, she'd understand if
I did not want to talk to him or see him.
But I did.
And so I called.
He wanted to take me snowmobiling with my two half brothers, both of whom were several years younger
than me.
I had met my father, his second wife, and my two half brothers once, over a weekend with his parents
when I was eight.
I was excited to go snowmobiling with my father and two brothers.
My great grandparents on his side had both died a few years ago at that time.
They lived on a large farm and all of a Michigan.
I was not especially close to them, but I did spend a fair amount of time there when I would
go to stay at my father's parents house.
When my great grandparents passed, my uncle took possession of the house and it said that we
could use the snowmobiles that were in the barn there.
The day was cold, but we had a lot of fun racing across huge, bare farm fields.
My father and I each drove a snowmobile and my two younger brothers took turns on who
rode with, as they were too young to drive a snowmobile by themselves.
I was literally days away from turning 12 and had grown up riding small dirt bikes and three
and four wheelers.
When we returned to the farm at dusk, we ended up deciding to explore the barn.
I'm not sure who's idea was, as we explored we began to feel uneasy and a bit unnerved.
We found rooms that were walled off both upstairs and in the ground floor.
We could see furniture and items thrown about these rooms by shining lights in through cracks
in the walls.
I couldn't understand why they would leave things in the rooms, yet board them up.
We could only suppose that the rooms had been boarded up because the floors above them had
become unstable and unsafe, and therefore they walled off both the upper and lower floors
in that area to keep people safe.
But this did not explain why they did then not clear the rooms out before walling them off.
At any rate, night had fallen by the time we left.
The large, bright, full moon shined brightly in the sky.
It made the snow and ice shine and sparkle.
Above us, on a hill that overlooked the farm.
All the lights in the house were on and my dad explained that my uncle had put timers on the
lights so as to deter people from breaking in or snooping around the farm.
We got into my father's car and left to head back to town which was about a 15-20 minute
drive.
When we got back to town, my father took us to McDonald's where we went through the drive through.
My father ordered our food and we had made it a little past the pay window and my father
explained, "Crap!
We remembered to lock up the barn but we left all the lights on.
We're gonna have to drive back out there."
And so after we got our food we headed back out to the distant old farm.
Once we arrived at the farm and my father was driving down the hill to the big barn,
he said, "Okay, Travis and Ryan, you two stay in the car.
We're gonna have to run in and turn out the lights."
What my young mind comprehended at that moment was that my father, big and loud mouth
as he was, was also still a bit creeped out and didn't want to go into the barn by himself.
A design flaw with the old barn was that where the main entrance was was also a large room
away from the row of lights which is.
And so my father and I crossed the room and my father lit his lighter before he flipped the lights
up.
This did little to illuminate the room but the bright moon outside clearly marked the doorway we
had to reach.
When we exit the barn I walked towards the cars, my father turned to lock the deadbolt on the
door.
I was surprised to see both my brothers standing outside the car in the cold night air, staring
up towards the house on the hill.
I almost reached the car when my dad asked my brothers from behind me, "Why are you standing
out in the cold?
Get back in the car."
As a response to my father, instead of getting in the car, one of my brothers pointed up at the
house and asked "Dad, who is that?"
I looked up towards the house at the same time my father did.
I was shocked and dumbfounded because there near the large tree my great grandfather used
to love sitting by, stood a man who had been dead for four or five years by this time.
I turned to look at my father who had also turned to look at me with huge eyes and
asked it alone on study voice, "Is that who I think it is?"
And my father said to me, "That's grandpa."
We stared at each other for a few seconds and then looked back up towards the hill and the spot
where we had seen my great grandfather standing, but no one was there.
My father asked, "Where did he go?"
My two younger brothers, both said they didn't know.
My father had seen was not going to or did not want to, except the clearly paranormal event
that had just taken place.
He stated that we needed to go up to the house and make sure no one was snooping around or trying
to take anything.
We walked up the driveway, and then cut into the deeper snow.
Toro astonishment and amazement there were no footprints anywhere on the hill where we had
seen the man standing.
My father still, in disbelief, went to the house and began knocking on the door.
When that brought no one, he instructed my brothers and I to go with him around the house
and to look at all the windows and see if we could see anybody inside.
But we saw no one, and all the snow around the house was pristine and untrampled or walked
on.
The only tracks in the snow that night were our own.
After we'd gone around the entire house and checking to see if any windows would open or
could see anyone inside, my father was still determined that we had without a doubt seen
a man standing on the hill looking down on us and that he could just not disappear.
So ignoring our statements to my father about there being no footprints in the snow and we were
now freaked the heck out.
My father told us to stay there on the hill, he was going to go check the seller.
Flicking his trusty lighter, my father went down into the basement slash seller below that
ancient farmhouse and returned after a few minutes.
He found no one and no evidence that anyone had been down there.
My father was then determined to get off that farm post-haste and he raced precariously
on the slippery country roads.
I thought for sure we were going to get into a ditch, but we didn't and I got home safely.
About a year and a half after that, I stopped talking to my father and began avoiding going
to even stay at his parents house so I didn't have to chance meeting him.
I was saying an out with him though when I was 18 and we were smoking a bit of weed and
I asked my dad, "Do you remember that night we went snowmobile a year as a go and we saw
grandpa's ghost?"
My father looked over at me and his eyes were big like they had been that night and he told
me he'd never been able to forget that night.
One thing my father said really unnerved him was that neither of my brothers had ever met
my great grandparents.
So it's not like we could all psych ourselves up and expect to see him and share like a group
vision or something.
Nor was it the sharing of a collective memory.
My father said he could find no way to explain it other than it being my grandfather's ghost.
My father passed away back in 2010 but my brothers are still alive and I'd like to ask them
if they remember that day.
A 44 years old now and it's something that I've never forgotten and likely never will.
I may even try to find that old farmhouse someday.
I see why you said that it's a pretty cool story rather than a creepy story.
It's a ghost so yeah it's going to creep some people out and I can understand why you're
dad and you and your brothers were a little bit creeped out of the time.
But that's got to be your great grandfather and my guess is the reason he showed up then
even in front of your other brothers who had never met him.
I'm just guessing that your great grandfather was pleased to see all of the men and your family together
doing something together.
That's something that parents and grandparents long to see.
They do want to see their kids, they want to see their grandkids, they want to see the extended
family but having everybody there at the same time is something that they cherish.
He did that from my dad last father's day and it was just it was really special.
I visited my dad separately, my brother is visited my dad separately and my brother has
a son so that would be my dad's grandson visiting him but it is extremely rare that we are
all in the same place at the same time and we made an effort last father's day to do that.
We surprised him with that and he just met the world to him because he had both of his
boys and his grandson all there at the same time.
So I'm guessing that's probably why you're a great grandfather showed up.
Kind of his way of saying you know what, I approve of this.
It's too bad that you and your dad didn't get along after that and you kept a hangin out with him.
I don't know what happened there.
It's none of my business but it's just sad because I know how much I love my dad and he's
not doing all that well and one of these days I know he's going to be in heaven.
That's just the way it is for all of us.
We all have that death sentence hanging over us no matter what time it is but it's going to
be really hard when my dad passes away and especially after moments like that where I hang
out with him and my brother and my nephew and yeah it's going to be tough.
It's too bad you weren't able to repair things with your dad but hopefully he's in a better
place now looking down on you and his proud of who you are and what you've been doing in your life.
I got that text earlier and I just now looked down at it turns out Lance Reddick from
a fringe if you remember that show apparently passed away he was 60 man Lance Reddick was
a great actor.
My wife is inside watching the news and so she quite often will text me while watching the
news and I say hey this happened this happened this happened.
If she doesn't I guess she doesn't trust me to listen to my podcast news and get everything
that's important like an actor passing away apparently.
I'll see Lance Reddick and other things not just fringe but that's that was like the first
first thing that we saw him and Robin and I were watching friends together and he was just
so great in that well sad day and 60 is way too way too young to lose an actor.
Okay our next story comes from while she signs that creepy stuff happens everywhere so we'll
just call her creepy.
I've been sent to the have two energies ghosts my whole life.
Every house I've ever lived in has housed spirits for now I'd like to talk about the
house I grew up in.
For the most part everyone residing there knew that there was something strange going on in and
around our house.
I didn't know however just how many visitors knew until much later in life.
To begin this ghostly journey to the past my mom was one who didn't see here or feel what
the rest of us did.
I was terrified for basically my whole childhood and pretty sure I never slept.
As I've grown up possessing the ability to see here and feel ghosts and other spirits that
are present I've gotten used to them and they no longer terrifying me but I find them to
be more intriguing.
That's what that lets get into the strange and unusual.
Growing up it was myself my two older brothers my mom dad sometimes as he was a truck driver
and gone a lot and my grandma moved in with us when I was 12 after my grandfather passed away.
My cousins would come stay with us in the summer and a lot of our friends were there often.
We lived in a two story house and while sitting in the living room you could always hear
footsteps upstairs.
If you walked out onto the front porch to the right was our front door which went into the
dining room if you walked straight there was another door which went into our living room.
We didn't use the latter as it was blocked by the sofa in the living room but we did hear knocking
on it frequently.
At first we looked out to see who was knocking but after a while we just stopped checking because
there was never anyone there.
And one of my brothers friends started knocking on it to startle us.
I happened to go look not expecting to see anything and patch on my fear when someone was
actually standing there.
Another time my brothers and I were telling my grandmother we noticed her weight are telling my
grandmother that we noticed her waving to us as we waited for the bus that morning.
She looked confused which told us that she wasn't even awake at that hour.
I want to lay in bed trying to fall asleep when I heard a knock coming from inside my closet.
We did have pets but I do not want to look in my closet so I went downstairs instead in
search of my pets and my brothers.
I was hoping to find one of them missing the brother may be playing a joke on me.
They would have done something like that.
Unfortunately all was accounted for.
I chose to sit on the sofa until I was too tired to keep my eyes open.
My mom and dad's bedroom was at the end of the hall as you went up the stairs and I dread
when my mom sent me to a room for something.
The door knob would turn every time just before my hand would touch it.
Eventually I ended up sleeping in this room with my grandmother because we had too many
people living there and not enough bedrooms.
Now and then we would feel the bed shaking.
No one believed us when we told them.
My brother would frequently find this class ring in the refrigerator and things would disappear
at random.
One day we came home from school and saw someone in the upstairs window of the storage room
a room off the bedroom that my brothers shared so we ran up the stairs to see what my parents
were up to.
To our surprise there was no one home.
We looked all over and all agreed that there had to be there that they had to be there somewhere.
We all saw them and someone in the window.
One night my mom and grandmother were at my ends, which was about an hour north from us.
I was trying to sleep.
The radio in the room was changing stations on its own as it often did.
The bed started shaking continuously and if that wasn't enough I saw a white figure coming
from the walk-in closet.
I was terrified.
I couldn't even move and then I talked to it thinking it might actually be my grandfather checking
up on grandma.
I told him that they were at my ends and that they'd be back soon.
It didn't go away and the bed continued to shake.
Finally I got the nerve to run down the stairs where my sister-in-law said that I looked like
I just seen a ghost.
I simply said I just did.
Jump ahead about 25 years or so.
The house has been torn down.
I stopped there where it used to stand on a trip to visit my mom.
The yard looks smaller and there is one plant.
I don't know what it was growing in the area where the house wants to do.
I walked to grounds of the yard even checking the dishes but it wasn't growing anywhere else
in or near the yard.
But then stood in the space where the house wants to do it.
I felt the deep sadness and loneliness.
It was heartbreaking.
I felt like the spirits were still there and maybe didn't know where to go.
I told them they had to move on that their dwelling had been torn down and wished them peace.
A few years later I went back to find there was nothing left.
When I stood with a house wants to it I felt nothing.
I hope they found peace and more so I hope they crossed over.
I'm not much of a storyteller.
I hope this isn't too hard to read.
I have lots of stories from my life concerning strange things, ghosts and even a demon.
What I believe to be a demon if you'd like to hear them.
I love the weird darkness.
It's the best podcast I've listened to so far.
I hope you can use this for fire sidefrites or anything else that's fitting.
Signed Creepy Stuff happens everywhere.
Well obviously it is good enough for fire sidefrites because I just shared it.
So thank you very much for sending in creepy.
I've always wondered what it's like to be a sensitive person like you who has
the intuitive nature.
Sometimes I'm a little bit jealous of people like you but then I don't know if I had to actually
be able to handle having that with me all the time.
It would be great to have it like in times of danger like you get that spidiesense.
That'd be nice.
But to be able to like you mentioned walking where your house was and you could feel sadness
there I don't know if I'd want to walk around the world and whenever I just happened
to pass by an area that's something happened I would suddenly feel sad.
Then keep walking and suddenly that would go away and then a little bit later on it feels
like maybe I feel anger or something.
And we'd come out of nowhere because it was the environment.
Not me that was conjuring it up.
That would be really difficult to grow up and especially if you're the only one.
If you're a kid like you mentioned you had to do as a kid growing up and you were terrified
for basically your whole childhood is what you said.
But then I guess it became more refined as you grew up something along those lines.
And well your house was busy not even just a spirit not just a paranormal and spiritual
stuff.
How many people did you have in that house?
They can't.
Let me see you.
You got you, your two brothers, your mom, dad sometimes your dad.
So there are six people right there in the house already.
Your cousins would come stay with you during the summer who knows how many of those are.
And you said friends would come over in the house.
I'm guessing you probably are there a moment you had like 10 people living in the house.
That's just, of course you're going to hear footsteps.
That's amazing.
I will say that portion about the white entity coming out of the closet.
That is creepy.
That part as I was watching this actually kind of gave me some goose bumps.
So it reminds me of the scene of the white entity coming out of the closet in the original
movie Poltergeist.
And then the whole radio changing stations on its own reminds me of the static on the TV.
It's almost like a scene out of Poltergeist.
Anyway, thank you very much creepy for sending that in.
I greatly appreciate it.
Okay, the next one comes from Arturo.
He says hi, Darren.
I love listening to your work and have debated writing or sharing some of my stories.
One challenge I faced while writing this was getting English equivalence of certain Spanish words
just right because I knew the listeners on the other side would understand more in English than in Spanish.
I hope my father's story can be featured on the podcast.
This comes from South Texas close to the border and Brownsville Texas but it takes place in Mexico.
Well, thank you for doing your best on getting this into English because I do not speak Spanish.
And you can be a lot of Spanish words.
I'm going to be.
I'm going to have difficulties.
Okay, so here we go.
He calls this story Tainted Water.
Summer is one of those special times and this happened to my dad when he was a boy.
Visits to my dad's cousin's place in Mexico surrounded by mosquito trees and cacti, they can
forget the bright lights of Renaulta even more.
Imagine a sea of stars shining down from the sky.
Visibility at night was scarce.
He smiled as he raised his hand and said, the only other light you could see was a bright
campfire in the distance.
I closed my eyes and imagined the logs as chairs since house furniture was limited.
If you had to go to the bathroom, get to take a stroll to the outhouse.
So I asked my dad what they did around these campfires and what kind of stories they told.
He got a twinkle at his eye and said in Spanish, "Everything, the one night I had something
very strange happened to me."
I moved closer to my seat because I was curious about what he meant or what he had seen.
He talked about his childhood, but he didn't talk much about other paranormal things.
Beyond the popular story of La Yourona, it was a bit of a taboo in our culture to talk about
the supernatural because it could make you seem weird.
He softly turned his head to look far away as if he were remembering something and
letting out a secret.
He took a deep breath and said, "Okay, let me tell you about a night when something bad happened
to me.
It felt so real and weird at the same time."
He said, "That night I went to the ranch to see my cousins.
The cousins and uncles who were older than me were still having fun, so I slept in this
little cabin.
The floor was made of cement and the walls were made of biscuits and a noby.
There were a few layers of blankets on the bed because it was cool but not freezing.
I was preparing to go to bed.
I kept my eyes shut.
Mom was in the same room.
I kept looking at the door and I saw that there was a barrel of water right outside the door.
A swear, I could see people drinking from this water but I couldn't tell if they were
my uncles or older cousins playing a trick on me.
I told my mom that people were drinking the dirty water in a whisper.
This water was not clean, so my mom told me to go to bed and not worry.
Honestly, this made me a little scared, so I got out of bed to find out what it was.
As I did, my dad said, "If they want to drink that water, let them get the runs.
I turned my heels around and went to bed.
Next morning, my laugh is I asked who was thirsty enough to drink the stored rainwater?
Because since looked at each other and said, "There was no one there.
We were still telling stories around the campfire."
At that moment, I got chills and weird goose bumps all over my back.
Still don't know what I saw to this day.
I'll let you decide what you saw that late night in the ranch that cool summer night.
Finish.
Thank you, Arturo.
The stories are always so much cooler when they're told to you by the person that experienced
them, but when it's your own family that it happened to.
And your dad, if he was a articulate in Spanish as you just were in English, that would have
been a great story to hear around the campfire.
Definitely fire sidefrites, Jean-Rethe, definitely worthy of what we do here.
Thank you for sharing that.
Alright, let's see here.
Next one comes from Eli, says, "Good afternoon, Darren.
I love your podcast and listen on my work commute.
I believe you, I believe you in the rest of the weirdos may enjoy some of my experiences.
I have several true experiences, but I heard you say not to put them into the same email, so
I'll break them up.
These are the first two things.
I've always been what one might call "open."
When I was seven, my mom and I were heading back home from the store.
I remember telling her that her grandmother, who was an immersing home and pretty old, was
dying and would be in heaven the next day.
She didn't pay me much attention until her mother called the next day with news of my great
grandmother's passing.
The second time that I remember was about five years later when my aunt and uncle had invited
all of us on a family trip to the coast for a week.
I used to get a tingling feeling in my lower teeth that I'd learn to associate with a feeling.
Late at night while driving down to the vacation house, I started getting the tingling in my
teeth again, so I'd learn to set her myself and meditate on that feeling.
I don't know how I knew what I knew, but I told my mom that we should turn around and
go home.
I knew, several of us would get sick and one would be hurt pretty bad.
She told me not to worry and go and try and get some sleep.
A few days later, almost all of the adults that went out to eat without the kids got food poisoning.
I stayed outside too long after the older kids locked the younger ones outside and received a third
degree sunburn on my back.
My mom listened to my feelings after that trip.
Thank you for letting me tell my stories.
Until next time, Eli.
I'll take you, Eli.
Yeah, please send your stories and sounds like all the adults there were breaking that nasty
rainwater.
Let's see, this next one comes from Matthew says, "Hello, Darren.
I feel weird darkness about six months ago and I've been binge listening ever since.
I'm sending one of my many paranormal experiences I've had.
Thank you for your awesome podcast and for the mental health resources that it provides."
Sign Matt.
Well thank you Matt.
You're very welcome.
I appreciate that.
So let's get to your story.
He says, "Well I was a little boy.
My grandparents had a cookout one summer and the whole family was there, along with many family
friends.
My granddad, grandma, mom, aunts, uncles, aunts, uncles.
I keep going back and forth between aunts and aunts.
I keep telling myself, well if I say aunts, then how are they going to know that it's not
the insect?"
But you guys are smarter than that.
And being a Kansas boy, aunts is the way we always set it.
And aunts almost sounds like I'm trying to be too formal.
Like I'm putting on an air.
So, all right, my granddad, grandma, mom, aunts, uncles, some family friends and their children,
Danny and Ronnie.
Danny was the oldest of the kids.
It was giving me and Ronnie a ride on my granddad's four wheeler while the adults were
drinking, talking, and grilling on the patio.
The grandparents house was in "Sick 'em the Smoky Mountain's Region of Georgia."
"Sick 'em the Smoky Mountain."
Is that a real place?
"Sick 'em the Smoky Mountain's Region."
Is that the name or is it just "Sick 'em in the Smoky Mountain's Region?"
Whatever.
Anyway, the way the property was set up, the backyard extended about a hundred feet from the
back of the house.
And then there was a steep hill down to a field.
The field was about 80 yards long with thick woods and bamboo thickets beyond that.
Danny was driving the four wheeler and his brother and front of him and me sitting on the rack
and front of the handlebars.
We were flying around the backyard down the hill, around the field and back up again.
Eventually, Danny notices the mouth of a trail at the Woods Edge and asks if we want to
explore the woods.
It's dark and eerie, but Ronnie says yes and not wanting to be a baby, I reluctantly agree.
Danny slowly starts to drive us into the woods and almost immediately I look up and see
a single glowing red eye about 15 feet up in the dense canopy of the trees, brush and bamboo.
It's staring directly at us and an overwhelming sense of doom fills every fiber of my being.
Bevel is palpable, I scream stop and Danny does.
A turn to look at Ronnie who has an expression of horror on his face.
He sees it too and begins to beg his brother to turn around.
We're both crying at this point.
Danny has no idea what's going on.
Keeps asking what?
What's wrong?
Ronnie and I both point to the eye.
In an instant, Danny does a donut and we are flying full throttle toward the house.
Topping the hill so fast, we become airborne.
All of us keep looking back, expecting a monster, a demon that deviled himself something to
be chasing us.
We make it to the backyard, screaming, crying, terrified.
The adults all come running toward us.
What's wrong?
Are you okay?
The three of us exclaimed, frantically over each other, the eye, the red eye, a monster, the devil.
When we finally calm down enough to verbalize what we have seen, my uncle walks to his truck
and comes back with a rifle.
Show me.
We walk toward the edge of the hill.
Danny, Ronnie and I can all still see it, the eye, still watching us from the edge of the
woods in the distance.
We point it out, but my uncle can't see it.
It's not long before the rest of the adults walk over to meet us and we point the eye out
to all of them, but none of them see it either.
A granddad and uncle go to investigate.
Danny, Ronnie and I, wait, and watch from the safety of the backyard as my granddad and
uncle walk, each with rifle in hand all the way down the hill across the field to the woods
edge to the mouth of the trail.
The red eye is directly above them.
They turn back and look at us, as if to ask if they're in the right spot, we nod and
point.
They look all around and eventually return saying there's nothing there you're imagining things.
In her best effort to comfort the three of us, my grandma tells us maybe it was just a cardinal
or a piece of trash stuck in the branches.
All the while we still see the evil red eye, still filled with a sense of dread and doom.
I don't recall the rest of the evening.
I never saw the red eye again.
I also never went into that field again and certainly not the woods edge.
The grandparents eventually sold that house and moved to a larger property.
42 years old now and still know without a doubt the red eye was very much real and very much
evil.
I'm thankful whatever it was it was unable to get us that day.
Holy cow.
Okay.
Well, when you were telling the story at first, Matt, I thought maybe you and your friends
were seeing a radio tower.
Now the radio towers they could have a single red light if there's a shorter red
radio tower.
I know this from being in radio for so long.
Sometimes they could just have like a single light towards the top but they're supposed to be flashing.
So if your red eye was flashing then that's what I would have guessed it was.
But I'm guessing that it wasn't flashing.
But when you get to the point where the adults come in and they're looking right at the same
place you are, they're not seeing anything but you're still seeing the red eye.
Okay.
Well, then the whole radio transmitter radio antenna thing is out the window.
So I have no idea what that was because you're right.
The adults should have been able to see it.
It's not like certain sounds where only younger people could hear them and you get past
those sounds that you get older because your ears start to go bad.
They actually have ringtones for like teenagers that only the teenagers can hear.
But your eyes don't work the same way as that, especially not all the adults at the same
time.
I can understand one of them maybe getting glaucoma not being able to see but then they wouldn't
be out there with a rifle either.
That is a creepy stuff, Matt.
I'm very curious as to what you experienced as well.
And you mentioned that feeling of evil and while I was still thinking of the radio tower,
I was thinking, okay, well, that's just your imagination, scaring you and that's why you
had that feeling of evil.
But once you got past that and gotten to the adults in there, that feeling of evil.
Okay.
Yeah, I totally get it.
Matt, if you ever do find out what that is, please let me know or somebody knows what that
might be.
You know of some sort of creature entity, whatever that has a single red eye and can only be seen
by the younger crowd.
I'd be interested in knowing what this thing is.
Thanks again, Matt.
This next one is sent from Darren.
"Hey, Darren, it's Darren.
How are you doing?"
Okay.
He says, "My family has a story about my great grandmother when she was close to passing away."
When my parents heard this, they went to go visit and say they're goodbyes.
At this point, however, my great grandmother, M, for short, was kind of out of it.
So in my parents left my aunt and went to, so when my parents left, my aunt went and
after them to say goodbye as well.
When my aunt went to talk to M, M thought my aunt was my mother, E, for short.
Then basically, my great grandmother said, "E was going to have another baby and the baby
was going to be a blonde girl."
Fast forward, some months later, my aunt tells E what my great grandmother said turns out, "or
I was pregnant with my little blonde haired sister."
The type to some of my phone, not sure if it's something to fire sidefrites, but I love the
podcast, listen to it all day at work.
Well, thank you.
Darren, I appreciate it.
Not one of the creepier stories, but still interesting and entertaining.
Well, I mean, bedside, what do you call that?
Death bed, confessions are one thing, death bed predictions are something completely different.
And apparently, your great grandmother mailed it.
Okay, this next one looks like they want to remain anonymous, so that's what I'll call
them.
Hello, Darren.
I emailed you before to say thank you for all you do and shared with you a photo I took
of a supposed Sasquatch track.
I thought I'd take the time to share that full story with you.
Should you choose to use the story?
I only ask you exclude my name, not that this story isn't true, rather I'd simply just be
like to be left anonymous if it all possible.
I hope you understand, now for the meat of the story.
Before I get into the story, I am really sorry.
I don't know what I did with that photo that anonymous sent to me.
He sent me the photo and I look at it and it definitely does look like a real big-foot
track.
Not one of those that's in the dirt and it's very, very obvious.
It's just the way the ground cover was padded down, you could see the toes in it.
It definitely definitely looked like an actual big-foot photo.
Big-foot photo.
I wish I still had that.
If I can find it, I'll post it up there on the website at weirdarkness.com and the weird news
section in the blog.
But I can't find it right now.
Kicking myself for it, I'll tell you the story anyway.
He says, "You might notice I state the photo to be a supposed in Sasquatch track.
There is a reason for this.
Nova Scotia Canada is not the first place one would think of when they hear a Sasquatch.
It seems rather off the general beaten path of other better known encounter encounters.
Better known encounter accounts.
Though it isn't that far from other supposed hotspots such as the woods of Maine or
New Brunswick, for that matter.
Both these areas have a number of reports.
Nova Scotia itself is also a no stranger to the weird and dark tales."
Do you see what I did there?
Supposed photos of Sasquatch were taken not far from rich water and Nova Scotia and even
appeared on the television show, Paranormal caught on camera.
Thus why would I class my photo or experience as "suppose it"?
Well, to be honest, it stems from some of the happenings involved, which I will now
explain.
The photo was taken in the fall of 2021, late October, early November.
I am an avid though not successful, deer hunter.
I've hunted 11 years and never begged to deer.
Shot squirrels, rabbits, ducks, coyotes, trapped raccoons and made a hat.
Though deer I have not been of the greatest luck.
I've been living in the southern part of Nova Scotia since December of 2014, having moved there
for my work.
I was a pastor for a small community church in the area.
One of the local families told me a sort of buggy clearing I should check out and I should
have some luck in bagging a deer that year, 2021.
I was excited and cleared a day and time to go into the woods and reach the spot.
I don't own an ATV so my travels would be on foot.
Given the area I'd be traveling, I opted to take my Moserberg 512 gauge.
I had with me slugs, buckshot and loads for small game.
I followed the only the old train track, now a trail behind where I lived, to where several
worn deer trails branch off.
A snake to my way down a few following directions I had and making note, and there was a considerable
deer sign in that area.
Large numbers of tracks and even some scat gave me hopes that this might well be my year.
I continued down the trail following some fresher signs and took an off route.
This was not a smooth trail.
The ground was rocky and broken.
Fick with mud and moss and a few little creeks.
Something many don't think I've in regards to my home province.
Nova Scotia is a lot of rocky swamp land along the coasts and I love it, though back to the
story.
I followed the trail and came to a fork.
Left followed a stream, no space to walk on the sides and too deep to walk down in,
I checked.
To the right and in front of me was a trail that went up.
It looked like something pulled out or washed out part of it, so there was about a four-foot
climb cliff to climb.
I unloaded my shotgun, broke it down and placed it in my backpack.
I began to climb and once on stable ground I reassembled my shotgun and loaded in three
deer slugs.
Before continuing the trail I gave a few calls out with a grunt color.
I figured I might get lucky.
Nothing.
Then I heard a soft, "whoop!"
That's odd.
The ground got more and more soupy and I walked on the thick moss where I was able.
As I went I could hear something up ahead moving.
I heard sticks breaking.
I stopped and ducked down.
I gave another call on my grunt color and leveled my shotgun on the clearing ahead.
I figured it was 50 yards and knew that I was comfortable taking a shot with my shotgun
at that range if the deer, buck or dough, crossed that trail or came into that clearing.
I was certain I could hit it and would finally have my first deer.
I waited and could hear the sound of sticks breaking.
Then it stopped.
Everything stopped.
There was not a sound.
No birds, no bugs, no squirrels.
It was dead still.
After a while I heard something walking away and figured I should keep going.
As I continued to walk down the trail, about 15 minutes from where I stopped, it came to another
fork.
I knelt to check which direction to go when I noticed a footprint in the soft ground.
Now I've been around bears.
I've seen bear tracks.
I've been given a false or bluff charge by a black bear.
This was not a bear's track.
One thing that were no claws, as you saw, bear on, also there was no front footprint anywhere.
The track looked human-like.
Though a Nova Scotia, then the wet cold ground, no ones walking around, bear foot.
It was not an easy walk to get here.
In several places I found myself getting sucked down into the mud or having to carefully
wade through shallow pools.
A checked for other tracks and found six, total, all going down the left fork.
I stepped a photo with a two and three-quarter shotgun shell for scale.
I even pressed my foot into the ground for comparison.
I'm 5 foot 9, 185 to 190 pounds.
My foot barely left the mark, and my boots, you can tell it's a bootprint.
This track had toes, clear, toes.
I was stunned.
I made a quick video and sent it to my wife or tried to.
In it, I said something like, "I may not be able to find deer, but I think I just
found saw a squash."
My wife teases me about my interest in Bigfoot.
I was excited and started down the left trail.
I was only about 10 or 15 yards, and I heard a sort of "group" sound.
As if something was saying, "Hey, I know you're following me now, stop."
Oh, I kept going.
There's maybe 10 more yards down the trail.
I have goose bumps as I write this.
When I heard a louder "group" I decided it was down to leave.
I headed back down the trail in a whole way, I could not help but feel like I was being followed.
It wasn't until I reached the old train tracks that it stopped in my video and made it to my
wife.
Now, this is where I state where I say "suppose it," saw Squatch Print.
A few weeks later, after I had some rather rough news concerning my job, I went out hunting
again to clear my head and spent some time with God.
The woods have always felt like a place that I could connect with God, be it fishing,
hunting, trapping, or just walking.
My grandfather was the same way.
As I sat in my makeshift blind watching over a game trail that comes out into a clearing, I heard
my middle daughter's voice clear as a bell.
It said, "Daddy, help, I'm lost.
Daddy, come help me, I need you.
I could hear her, though it didn't sound exactly like her.
It didn't sound as panic as my daughter would be.
It was coming from the clearing next to me.
I tried to look into the clearing but couldn't see anything.
By again, heard my daughter's voice, this time she said, "Daddy, help, thereafter me, I need
you.
I jumped up and came tearing through the brush with my shotgun in hand.
There was no one in the clearing, though there in the center was my daughter's rainbow
dash winter hat.
A hat she lost about a week before when it disappeared off of our back deck.
I picked up the hat and heard a creepy laugh from the woods.
It was like something was trying to mimic a child's laugh but was too large.
I once started to pray.
I got my pack from my blind and left the area.
When I got home, I asked my wife if our kids had gone into the woods to play.
She said, "No, I'm going to ask why."
I showed her the hat and my middle daughter said, "excitingly, it's my missing hat.
You got it back.
Not you found it.
She said, "You got it back."
Later I told my wife what happened and she and I prayed for our family.
I didn't have there anymore after that.
Never did get my deer.
I also don't live in the area.
Hope you enjoyed the encounter.
Thanks for listening.
Wow, anonymous.
Yeah, you did not send me that story when you first sent me the photo.
But okay, now yeah, it was a disaster.
It looks like a soft watch track.
I can understand why you would think it was that in the beginning.
I have never heard of Sasquat sightings, though, where they mimic human voices to the point
of actually saying words and sentences that make sense.
I've heard of the whoop sound.
They have a really weird call according to some people.
Just look up big foot yowl or a big foot scream on YouTube and you'll hear what I'm talking
about.
But I don't think I've ever heard of one that's pretending to be a child or a person in
order to lure somebody in.
That is creepy, man.
So I do have one question for you though, a little bit off topic.
You went into this place.
You don't have an ATV.
You're going so deep into the woods to all of these different places.
Going through muck and mire through swamp area.
If you did get a deer, how on earth were you supposed to get that out of there?
Were you just going to shoot it and leave it?
I don't think so.
You don't strike me as that kind of guy.
I've had to have some sort of plan, but man, I could not do that physically.
I think thanks a lot to anonymous for sending that in.
I appreciate it.
Alright, this one comes from Robbie, says hey Darren, listen to the podcast since the
pandemic.
I have multiple stories I want to share from both my childhood as well as a story from my mom.
But this one also gets on something that happened in my childhood.
When I was about a year old, I lived in a three bedroom house that gave me creeps
every once in a while.
I say every once in a while because I lived there nine years, but had only a few experiences.
My room was in the back of the house next to my parents room and the third bedroom was in
the front, which we used as a media room.
One night when I was grounded, which happened more times than I can count, I was laying in my
room late at night to try and go to sleep.
My room was pitch black and at the time I slept with the door open.
That night both my parents were watching TV in the front bedroom and I don't remember
why, but I looked out my door into the dark hallway.
As I'm doing so, I noticed a tall dark shape in the doorway of my parents bedroom.
It didn't move, but I remember a swear it looked like it was wearing a rimmed hat.
Kind of like an old west outlaw shape hat.
Brighton, I rose up from my bed about to call my parents and at that exact same time, I
felt something grabbed the back of my collar and yankly back down to the bed.
But it wanted me to lay down and stay there.
I was so freaked out I didn't move for the next hour or so until I saw both my parents go into
their room for the night.
Gradually, I ended up falling asleep.
My more stories about this house, but I'll save those for another time.
Love the podcast to keep up the great work against me through my work days, signed Robbie.
Robbie, thank you very much for those kind words.
I really appreciate it.
And you know, your story ends in a way that so many other stories end and I just don't understand
it.
How can you have an incident like this?
And still somehow find a way to get back to sleep.
I've never understood that.
But it happens.
It happened to me as well when I had my demonic experience of the sleep paralysis.
I was somehow able to get back to sleep.
I just don't understand how the body and the human brain can make that happen.
You would think you'd be in that fight or flight mode.
And that your adrenaline would be pumping to the point that you'd have to get up and walk around
do something in order to try and wear yourself out and get rid of the energy before you
can go back to sleep.
But so many people will say, "No, I stayed there in bed and eventually fell back to sleep."
So weird.
So so weird.
Okay, and we got one last one.
This one comes from Renee.
She says, "Daron, attached to the copy of my personal story about how my best friend
and I had the unfortunate experience of coming face to face with evil."
Hope you can find a place in your podcast to read it.
Please let me know if you need any more information about it.
Feel free to edit as you wish if necessary.
Thanks for reviewing my story and if you like it.
I have many more personal experiences in my past that I can share.
Most of which are paranormal in nature.
I hope you enjoy it.
Before I even get to your story Renee, please send me the other stories.
Just to be editing it as I wish.
I don't do that with fire sidefrites.
I read them exactly the way I get them because I don't read them in advance.
I could do that and try to be more professional.
But fire sidefrites is one of those times where I just got to relax and let it flow.
I think it kind of helps with the whole intimacy thing about it.
But anyway, Renee, she calls this the mummy man.
There will be a great title for a story regardless.
I grew up in a small town named Quincy, Illinois, which is located on the bump on the southwestern
part of the state.
Alongside the Mississippi River, not far from Hannibal, Missouri, the hometown of one of the
greatest writers of the 20th century, Mark Twain, Samuel Clements.
Quincy was voted as an all-American city in 1962 and 1985.
It's a place where most people feel safe.
Rivers are rarely locked, most of the people living in and around Quincy are hardworking honest
folk.
We lived outside of town on a single residential country road.
So far from the actual town that my bus ride to school was a two hour ride in, Holy Cowran
A, two hours to get to school from the bus stop.
You got to get up early.
Anyway, we were surrounded by dairy farms and cornfields.
We think that a place like this wouldn't be an area that was plagued with violent crimes, and
for the most part you'd be right.
However, during the early 1980s, several communities in and around the Quincy area were in a state
of panic.
There was a serial rapist/murderer whom the press had nicknamed "The Mummy Man."
He used gauze to conceal his identity.
This person was targeting vulnerable young girls, raping them, and he'd murdered at least
one person as well.
He was getting bolder as time passed, terrorizing the people who were living in the area.
Some say he was arrested and sent to jail during the spring of 1982.
However, the man in police custody whom they believed to be the infamous rapist didn't use
any gauze or try to conceal his identity in any way.
He was, however, someone who was guilty of sexual assaulting two other women, so it was
good they caught him.
Many of the locals who lived in the area in the 1980s don't believe that they had captured
the "Mummy Man."
Some believe he may still be out there, somewhere.
In 1981 and 1982, my friends and I were all around 12 to 13 years old, which wasn't much
younger than the girls being raped by this horrible person.
We all kept up with the news about the "Mummy Man."
Although none of us believed that we were in real danger, I mean it was just a story about
stuff happening to other people, right?
When you're that age, you seldom believe that anything bad would ever happen to you or
anyone you know in real life.
Unfortunately, two of us were about to find out that we should have been more cautious than we
were, because our arrogance was to be proven dead-row, and our lives would never be the
same again.
It was the beginning of November, back in 1982, right after Halloween.
The weather was turning colder, with icy rain and snowstorms hitting us almost every night.
Why to appropriate for the spooky time of here, many of us thought?
Michael Jackson's newest album, The Riller, was to be released soon, and I intended to be one
of the first kids in my circle of friends to get a copy.
I've always been a huge fan of MJ.
The week before the album was available, I'd asked my parents if it was okay from my best
friend, I'll call her Becky, to sleep over it, our house that night, so we could listen
to the new album together.
To my surprise, not only did they say yes, but they were going to allow us to use our family
RV all night.
Growing up, my parents loved taking us on camping trips.
We bought our first motorhome in 1979, and when camping is often as possible, especially when
my parents had a long weekend or some vacation time.
While at home, the family RV was parked on the side of our garage, which was attached to the
house on the other side.
Nobody could hear us if we wanted to listen to our music loud.
That even hooked up the water in electric from my sleepover, so we could use the big speakers,
the TV, and even the bathroom.
I'm on the even stocked with the shells, with chips and cookies, and she loaded up the fridge
with pop as well.
Who's going to be like having our own private place to eat junk food and rock out all night long?
Becky and I had planned on listening to and learning all the lyrics as well of every song
on the album before going back to school on Monday.
That make us look pretty cool in our own minds anyway.
Becky and I looked forward to our special sleepover all week, and could hardly wait to get
into the camper for the night.
In 9pm, we just finished eating some pizza, so we changed into our pajamas and got ready to crank
up the music, dance, laugh, and just have fun.
At around 930, Becky and I were in the middle of dancing and being silly when suddenly,
she just stopped dancing.
Almost as if she were frozen in place, and was staring at the front windshield.
A pretty confused at first, and it was about to ask her what was wrong, which she quietly
whispered.
"My god Renee, don't move, just look."
She slightly gestured for me to look out the front windshield of the motorhome.
What we saw makes me break into chills to this day.
I'll never forget it, neither will she.
Looking outside, just across the street from my house, and standing directly underneath the
street light, we saw a large man in a trench coat.
His body was facing the motorhome, as if he were staring directly at us.
We'd been dancing to loud music with the lights on, so there's no way that this person didn't
notice us.
What really freaked us out, however, was the fact that his entire face, head, hands, were completely
wrapped with gauze.
It was like being in a horror movie, seeing the killer for the first time as he was planning
on what to do to us.
From a scene like ours, we were frozen in place, just staring at this scary man who wasn't
even moving, just staring back at us.
The only time we saw him move was to light a cigarette, and then he just slowly smoke it.
I whispered to Becky, "How are we going to let my mom and dad know what's happening outside?
We're too far away from the house to make a run for the front or even the back door, and
I don't think we'd make it without him catching us anyway."
Keep in mind, this was 1982.
We didn't have a cell phone to contact my parents inside who were sleeping inside, and we knew
that nobody would be able to hear us if we decided to scream, since the motorhome was parked
next to our garage, which had a brick wall.
At our neighbors were definitely too far away to hear us.
He'd seen us, and we were trapped.
After I said that, Betty panicked and just reached out and grabbed the curtain from behind
the driver's seat of our motorhome, she'd then quickly pulled it shut.
I just looked at her and said, "Well, that's not going to do with any good.
Now we know that we saw him.
Why do you do that?"
After whisper arguing back and forth, trying to come up with any ideas as to how we could beat
him and get into the house, we realized we were sitting ducks.
So we simply cried, pulling onto each other while trying to stay awake.
We were about to become the next victims of the mummy, man.
There was no doubt in our minds that the serial murderer and rapist was the same guy who was
now across the street from my house.
The one night two of us were determined to stay awake all night, planning on fighting him off
if he tried to get in.
We ended up falling asleep sometime during the wee hours of the morning, and we were surprised
to find out we were still in one piece and undisturbed.
As the sun began to shine through some of the windows and the RV, Becky and I began to feel
brave enough to look outside.
Ever so slowly we pulled back the curtain in the front of the camper and pierced across the street.
He was gone.
When we slowly opened the door, we found ourselves speechless.
Looking down, around the motorhome, we noticed that there were fresh, muddy footprints all
around the vehicle.
As if someone walked around the RV several times, possibly trying to peek in and see if we were
still there, or simply to scare us.
If that was his intent, mission accomplished.
Becky and I immediately ran into my house to tell my parents about what we experienced.
My dad called the police and we were able to give them a statement.
So that's how my best friend and I encountered one of the most dangerous criminals in our
hometown.
Wow Renee.
I am so sorry that that happened to you.
I'm glad I'm glad nothing physical happened to you.
But yeah, that's going to emotionally scar a person for the rest of their lives.
I'd never heard of the mummy man before.
I'm going to have to look into that.
But you were saying that apparently he's never been caught.
I appreciate it.
Renee was kind enough to send me some links for reference to this guy.
So am I to a story about him in the future?
Renee, thank you so much for that.
I really appreciate it.
And I look forward to sending other stories.
You got some great writing skills there.
Well, everybody, that's it.
That's my last story.
If you want to send a story for a future fire side for it, I would love to get it.
Just go to weirddarkness.com.
Click on tell your story and you can send in your fire side for it there.
I'm trying to use all of the ones that I've received over the month.
This one goes through.
Yeah, I had these back from February 16th all the way up through to today.
So once I use all of these, I am now down to zero stories.
So if you want to fire side for it's next month, you need to send me some stories.
Again, just go to weirddarkness.com and then click on tell your story.
Thank you for listening everybody.
If you like the show, whether it be the fire side for it or just the regular weird darkness,
please share the show with everybody that you know, people who like the paranormal stories,
monsters, unsolved mysteries, true crime, stuff like that.
Weirddarkness.com.
That's also where you can find me on all of my social media.
I'm on Facebook, Twitter, Mewe, Mines, YouTube.
You can also find audio books that I've narrated, including some free ones.
If you want to listen to those, you've got the weird darkness store.
If you want to grab a weird darkness t-shirt, hoodie, mug, whatever.
All that other fun stuff I've got monthly contests that I do there.
And of course, you can tell me your creepy stories.
Weirddarkness is a production in trademark of Marlar House Productions, copyright, 2023.
Now that we're coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light.
Ephesians 2 vs 10.
For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared
in advance for us to do.
An a final thought from CS Lewis.
But first things first, and second things are thrown in.
But second things first, and you lose both first and second things.
I'm Darren Marlar.
Thanks for joining me in the weird darkness.
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