Transcription
This happened 2 years ago, on Halloween of 2023. I'm a 25-year-old male, but at the time of this story, I was 22. I had a long day of work due to a festival we had where we had parents bring their kids to the center for various activities, such as many different competitive games, a costume contest, trivia for candy, and a kids versus parents dodgeball game. Overall, it was a very fun time, but it was definitely tiring. For context, I'm a community worker, so doing community events is pretty much what I do on a normal basis, but it's also draining, if that makes sense.
Anyway, after it was all done, I went home and was ready to call it a night. About an hour after I got home, it was around 6-something, my little sister called me. My sister, who I'll call Savannah, wanted me to take her and my nephew, who I'll call Jackson, trick-or-treating because neither our parents nor Jackson's parents felt like doing it. And as it usually goes, it fell on me to be the cool big brother to step in and make it happen. Savannah was 15 and Jackson was 11. Even though I wasn't feeling it at all, I got up, threw some clothes on, and headed to my parents' house to pick them up.
Once I got there, I asked if they were ready, but Savannah was still finalizing her costume. She was dressed up as Raven from Teen Titans. She even had the white makeup on to give that ghostly appearance Raven usually has. Jackson was dressed as Subzero from Mortal Kombat. Once Savannah was done, we got in the car and were on our way. I took them to a pretty busy neighborhood to make sure they got as much candy as possible.
Upon arrival, we started going from house to house. Everyone we ran into was friendly and had plenty of treats to hand out. There was even one house where an older man gave them each a hot dog and a soda. He said every year for Halloween, he doesn't hand out candy. He grills food instead because he'd rather give kids something with protein since it's good for the body. Honestly, we probably need more people like that. We passed a lot of other kids, and some gave compliments to Savannah and Jackson's costumes. I also saw some really cool costumes myself. Everyone in the area seemed to go all out.
When we hit the last house for the night, we started walking back to the car. It was about a 10-minute walk since we had gone pretty far down the neighborhood. The neighborhood was less active now, and there weren't as many people out and about. That's why I got alarmed when I looked across the street and saw a person dressed in all black standing in a yard where there were no porch lights on. I'm surprised I even noticed them at all, but I tend to always pay attention to my surroundings. When I looked closer, it seemed like the person was wearing a hooded cloak with an all-black outfit and a mask because I couldn't see their face at all. I honestly couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. Whoever it was, they appeared to be looking at us.
I told Savannah and Jackson to stay close to me and said, "There's a suspicious person across the yard. Look, but don't stare." I said that so they could see who I was talking about without encouraging the person to approach or follow us. Jackson laughed and thought it was just someone trying to scare people walking by. Savannah, though, looked noticeably worried. Now, just to add some context, I was carrying a backpack with a Glock inside, and Savannah knew this. So, when I told them to stay close, she probably realized I was being serious. Jackson was clueless. He's too young for me to tell him that I carry a real gun.
As we were walking away, it looked like that person was still watching us, even though it was hard to tell in the dark. We were getting closer to the car when I suddenly heard heavy footsteps behind us, like boots hitting the concrete. I turned around and saw that same person again. Same outfit, all black, but this time I could see more clearly. They were wearing a tactical vest, tactical boots, and black pants tucked into the boots. They had on a full spandex mask that completely covered their face. That made the situation way more serious. When you see someone dressed like that, the first thing that comes to mind is that they're armed. He's following us, I thought.
I whispered to Savannah and Jackson. "I need you both to listen very carefully. Do not stop walking and do not look back. The person I mentioned earlier is following us. They're behind us right now. The last thing we want is to alarm them or set them off. So, just keep your composure and keep walking." I mainly looked at Jackson when saying this because he's younger and might not fully understand how serious this was. Savannah understood completely. We kept walking and did occasional glances behind us. The person stayed the same distance away, but was still following. When we got to the car, they were still coming our way.
That's when I decided to make a bold move. I pulled out my Glock and pointed it at the person. I asked why they were following us. The person raised their hands as if they didn't expect me to do that, then slowly removed their mask. It was a woman, and she looked to be in her 30s. She took her mask off, but didn't answer my question. She just stared at me blankly. I asked again, still pointing the gun. "Why are you following us?"
What she said next made no sense. In an almost robotic tone, she said, "I'm an undercover cop. I was told there was a break-in, so I came to check it out. That's why I was standing outside that house, but when you looked at me funny, I assumed you were the one who did it. So, it would be wise to lower that weapon, or I could have you arrested for threatening an officer of the law." I hesitated, but then lowered my gun. What else was I supposed to do? I didn't want to risk an arrest or ruin the kids' night, but her story didn't make any sense. She claimed she got word of a break-in, so why would she just stand outside facing away from the house? How did me looking at her funny make her think I was the one who did it? Why would I break into a house and then casually walk through the neighborhood? And why was she wearing a hooded cloak? All these questions were racing through my mind.
So, I asked her, "If you're undercover, why are you in tactical gear? Wouldn't that kind of give away that you're law enforcement? And what's the point of the cloak?" She didn't answer. She just stared at me again, but this time her expression changed. There was something malicious in her eyes, like she was irritated that I didn't believe her and was deciding what to do next. Jackson and Savannah stayed completely quiet through all of this. Then she smiled this creepy, unsettling smile and said, "If you didn't have that gun, this night would have ended a hell of a lot different for you."
Right as she finished saying that, I noticed four figures suddenly emerge from between the houses walking toward us. All of them were wearing tactical gear, but without the cloak. I instantly told Savannah and Jackson to get in the car, keeping my eyes on the woman and the figures. Once I saw they were in, I got in and drove off. As I was leaving, the woman was still standing there smiling. The others, three men and one woman, were not smiling. They had blank, emotionless faces like they didn't even have souls. It's hard to explain. The whole car ride back was silent. I'm sure the kids were in shock just like I was. I dropped them off, made sure they got in safely, then went home to process everything that happened. The thing I couldn't shake off was why they targeted us. The neighborhood was full of people walking around. So why us?
I wish I could say it ended there, but it didn't. A few days later, I got a text from an unknown number. It was just a photo, no words. The picture was of my car taken in the parking lot of my apartment complex. I contacted the police and told them everything that happened on Halloween night. They took the report, but they couldn't investigate unless a direct threat was made. Typical.
Out of curiosity and maybe stupidity, I went back to that same house where I first saw that woman. I knocked on the door and a man in his 40s answered. I asked if they'd experienced a break-in on Halloween night. He looked confused and said no. He said he went to bed early because he had work the next morning and didn't notice anything strange. I told him what I saw, and he had no idea what I was talking about. I thanked him for his time and left. At that point, I already knew the undercover cop story was fake, but I wanted to do my own little investigation just to make sense of it. Whoever that woman and those people were somehow knew my phone number and where I lived. It makes me wonder, was that not a random encounter after all? Were they watching me for a while? Were they planning something that night? And my being armed threw them off. All those thoughts messed me up and made me feel paranoid for a long time. I had to go to therapy and install a Ring camera at my front door just to feel safe again. In case you're wondering, I haven't been contacted by any unknown numbers since. Nothing else has happened since that picture.
Two years later, I still think back on that night. Writing this out helps me a lot, and I'm trying to fully move on from it. But if there's one thing I want people to take away from this, it's to always watch your surroundings. You never know who might be watching you. It's easy to get caught up in something dangerous just for existing. So, always stay safe and protected because I can say with full confidence that being armed that night probably saved our lives.
[Music]
This happened when I was 12 years old. It was Halloween day, and my family was staying at a small family resort about an hour away from where we lived. My parents wanted to do something different that year instead of just walking around our neighborhood for trick-or-treating. The resort was holding a Halloween celebration that weekend with a bunch of activities, games, and even a haunted hayride. It wasn't a big place. It had maybe 10 cabins, a main lodge, a small lake, and a long open field where they set up hay rides and games. It was surrounded by woods on all sides. During the day, it looked normal, even kind of peaceful. But once it got dark, the woods looked black and creepy, and the resort felt a little too quiet.
We checked in early that afternoon. I remember walking into the cabin and feeling excited because I could smell campfire smoke and candy apples in the air. Kids were running around in costumes even though it wasn't dark yet. My parents said the hayride was starting around 7, and there'd be games before that. So, I went off to play while they unpacked. They had booths where you could toss rings over bottles for candy, a costume contest, and even a pumpkin carving area. Everything was decorated with orange lights and fake spiderwebs. I met another kid around my age there. His name was Ryan. He was wearing a skeleton costume and said he and his parents were staying in the next cabin over from ours. We played a few games together and got a good amount of candy.
As it got closer to 7, we saw a crowd of families walking over to the hayride area. The tractor pulling the wagon was parked near a big barn, and they had hay bales lined up inside for people to sit on. There were maybe 20 of us who got on. The driver wore a scarecrow mask, and there were workers dressed like zombies who would jump out during the ride to scare people. The ride started out fun. It was dark by then, and they had torches lighting the dirt trail. The tractor moved slowly through the woods, and every now and then someone in a costume would appear from behind a tree or run up to the wagon. Most people laughed or screamed and then laughed again. It felt like a normal Halloween attraction, but about halfway through, something made me uncomfortable.
We were passing through a part of the trail that was darker than the rest. The tractor slowed down, and I looked toward the edge of the woods on my side. That's when I saw a man standing just outside the torchlight. He wasn't part of the hayride cast. I could tell that right away; he wasn't wearing a costume that fit the theme. From what I remember, he had a black jacket, jeans, and a baseball cap pulled low over his face. He was just standing there, not moving, with his hands in his pockets. At first, I thought maybe he was one of the workers taking a break, but he wasn't doing anything. He was only watching. At one point, I made eye contact with him, or at least I think I did. Even though his face was shadowed, I could feel his eyes locked on me. I turned to look at the people around me to see if anyone else noticed, but no one seemed to. When I looked back, he was still there in the exact same position. I tried to ignore it for the rest of the ride, but I kept thinking about him. When the hayride ended and everyone got off, I looked back one more time toward the woods. He was gone. I didn't mention it to anyone right then. I figured maybe I imagined it or overreacted.
We went back to the lodge where they had more games and food. My parents sat by a bonfire while Ryan and I went around collecting candy. Everything seemed normal again. About an hour later, I saw him again. Ryan and I were standing near the snack table when I noticed someone off to the side of the crowd. It was the same man. He wasn't close, maybe 30 ft away, but he was standing near the treeline, watching again. There were a lot of people around, so it felt strange that he'd just be standing there alone. I remember my stomach tightening when I realized he was looking in my direction. I tried to get a better look at his face, but it was hard because of the lighting. I could make out a short beard, and I think his hat had some kind of logo on it. I nudged Ryan and told him about the guy. Ryan looked over and said, "Maybe he's one of the workers." I said, "He's not. He was in the woods during the hayride." Ryan shrugged and said, "Maybe he's a dad." I wanted to believe that, but he wasn't talking to anyone, just standing there. A few minutes later, when I looked back again, he was gone.
Around 9:00, if I had to guess, most of the little kids had gone back to their cabins. The event was winding down, but Ryan and I still had energy. We decided to walk around the resort before going in. There was a trail behind the cabins that led into the woods. Ryan said we should go a little way in to do something scary for Halloween before the night ended. I didn't want to go too far, but we had flashlights and I didn't want to look like a coward, so we walked down the dirt path together, laughing and daring each other to keep going. The farther we went, the quieter it got. The sounds from the resort faded until it was just the crunching of our shoes on the path. We only went maybe 200 ft in when we stopped near a clearing. There was an old wooden sign nailed to a tree that said "private property." We started throwing small rocks at the sign and pretending to summon ghosts or something dumb like that.
Then we both heard it. Footsteps. Heavy, slow footsteps coming from behind us somewhere deeper on the path. We froze and turned around. Ryan whispered, "Probably another kid." But it didn't sound like a kid. Whoever it was walked with weight like an adult. I shined my flashlight down the path. The light only went so far, and I couldn't see anyone yet. Then the footsteps stopped. For a few seconds, it was completely silent. Then a voice spoke. It said, "Hey there, boys." It was a man's voice. Calm, but somehow intimidating. Ryan looked at me, and I think he realized the same thing I did. It was the man from the hayride. He stepped into the light just enough for us to see part of him. Same black jacket and hat. "What are you two doing out here?" he asked. "You like candy?" Neither of us said anything. He pulled something out of his pocket and held it up. I could see the orange wrapper. It was a Reese's cup. "I got a bunch more of these in my cabin," he said. "Come on, I'll give you some." Ryan took a step back. I remember his face going pale. The man took a few steps closer and then said, "You don't have to be scared. It's Halloween. I'm just giving candy out. I saw you boys on the hayride earlier." When he said that, my stomach basically dropped. I grabbed Ryan's arm and whispered, "Run!"
We both turned and sprinted down the path toward the resort. I could hear him behind us for a second. His footsteps were pounding hard as he started to chase. I didn't dare look back. My heart was beating so hard it hurt. The path seemed longer than before. When we reached the edge of the woods, I could finally see the lights from the resort again. I yelled for help as we ran out of the trees and back toward the crowd near the bonfire. A few adults turned toward us, startled. We didn't stop until we got right up to the people. I turned around expecting to see the man behind us, but he wasn't there. The path was empty. My parents came over right away asking what happened. I told them everything about the man watching me on the hayride, seeing him near the trees, and then following us into the woods. Ryan confirmed it all. My dad and another man grabbed flashlights and went to check the path, but they didn't find anyone. A few workers searched too, but he was gone. The resort staff called the local police to report what happened. They arrived about 30 minutes later and took statements from me, Ryan, and our parents. They said they checked the area and notified nearby cabins to keep an eye out.
That night, my parents didn't let me out of their sight. We stayed in the cabin with the door locked. I couldn't fall asleep for hours. Every noise outside made me jump. The next morning, the police came back and told us they searched the property but didn't find anyone matching the description. No vehicles had been reported missing, and no one fitting that man's description had checked in. They thought maybe it was a trespasser from outside the resort. We left later that day. I remember staring out the car window as we drove past the woods, half expecting to see him standing there again. For weeks after that, I kept thinking I saw him on the side of the road, outside stores, even once at my school parking lot, but it was always someone else, or at least I hope it was. Ryan and I kept in touch for a while. He told me he couldn't sleep for days after it happened. Nothing ever came of this. The police never called again. The man was never identified or caught. Now I'm older, and when I think about that night, what scares me isn't what he did, it's what he could have done. If we had believed him for even a second, if we had walked toward him instead of running, I don't think I'd be here to tell this story. And every Halloween since then, whenever I see someone standing alone at the edge of a crowd, I always think of that man. Sometimes people who look like they're part of the fun are watching for a different reason.
[Music]
My name is Roger, and this happened to me on Halloween night three years ago. I'm 29 and work a boring office job, but it's good pay. When this happened, I was getting stuck with the stuff: beginner's time off, the shifts nobody wanted, etc. So, when Halloween, my favorite holiday, rolled around, I was actually quite excited. It was never easy being the new guy at work. So, I was wanting to enjoy a night of seeing kids be kids and chilling out at home watching movies. At the time, I was living alone in a small house on the outskirts of town with my girlfriend, but she was out of town with her parents. It wasn't isolated exactly. I had neighbors, but the street got really quiet once the trick-or-treating hours ended. The families in the area usually shut their lights off around 9:00 p.m. Since I didn't have kids, I just handed out candy until the crowd died down. On several past Halloweens, before I got my own place, I was quite used to the occasional ding-dong ditch prank. That's why there is a trick in treat here and there. That year, Halloween fell on a Saturday, and I remember it was chilly but clear out.
By 10:30, I was lounging on my couch, half watching a horror movie while picking through a bowl of leftover candy. I hadn't seen anyone in about an hour. So, when I heard a faint knock at my side door, I assumed it was stragglers. But when I opened the door, no one was there, just the empty driveway and the faint rustling of leaves. I brushed it off. Kids play pranks all the time on Halloween. I headed back to my living room to finish watching The Conjuring, too.
15 minutes later, I heard the same sound again. Only this time, it was coming from the back door, the one that led to the small deck. That set off alarms in my head because nobody used that entrance. I froze in the living room, listening. The TV was off now, and I could hear it clearly: the metal rattle of the back door knob being tested slowly and cautiously. Whoever was trying my door was either checking if it was locked cautiously or believed it was unlocked and trying to be quiet. I crept into the kitchen, staying low, and that's when I saw him through the window. A man was crouched down near the door, wearing dark clothes and a cheap, cracked Halloween mask pushed up on top of his head. In his hand, he held a crowbar. He wasn't trying to hide. He was deliberate and calm, like he knew I was inside and didn't care.
I backed away quietly and grabbed my phone, whispering to 911 what was happening. The operator told me to stay on the line, lock myself somewhere safe, and not to engage. I didn't want to make noise by slamming the doors upstairs. So, I stayed crouched at the top of the steps, clutching a kitchen knife, whispering updates. I peeked down and saw the man move away from the back door. That's when I heard the faint pop of a window screen being pried off. He was at the basement window now. I whispered to the dispatcher, "He's at the basement." My voice was shaking. She told me officers were already on their way. Then came the worst moment. I heard glass crack. He was breaking the window. My blood ran cold. And it wasn't just a smash and grab. He knew I was there. And most burglars typically don't try to enter a home where they know someone's still inside.
Minutes felt like hours. The dispatcher kept me talking quietly to make sure I was still okay. I heard footsteps crunching outside. The man was circling the house again. Then headlights swept across the blinds. Relief flooded me as flashing red and blue lights pulled up in front. The man bolted. I watched him sprint across my yard, but he didn't get far. The officers tackled him just past my driveway. I didn't even realize I was shaking until I saw one of the cops leading him back in cuffs. That's when I saw what he'd been carrying: the crowbar, duct tape, and zip ties stuffed in his bag. This wasn't a burglar looking for valuables. This guy had a plan, and it was something far worse. The police told me he had a long record of breaking into homes, and that he was suspected in some other cases where people had gone missing.
To this day, I hate being home alone on Halloween. It's supposed to be about scares and fun, but whenever I hear footsteps or knocking outside at night, I can't help but remember everything about this night. The part that chills me the most is if the police had been just 5 minutes later, I might not be here to tell the story. The police later followed up weeks later. They told me what they found in his backpack. He had a cold .45 handgun, several kitchen knives, and rope.