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Scary Story Podcast

Scary Story Podcast

A Podcast of Scary Stories and Short Horror Tales

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The Ghost At The Truck Stop

April 18, 2019

I’m a truck driver. Most of my trips take me all around California, but I mainly do loads and unloads between the north and south parts of the state. The desert at night is a peaceful setting, and I’ve gotten to know all of the exits along the 5 freeway.

It was a long night. I was going to be early to my destination and I would be forced to wait in line to unload. Whatever. It was better to wait outside of a warehouse instead of being parked along an old truck stop with dirty showers and clogged toilets. I think they were out of service this one night.

This particular truck stop has a history, you see. I had been told in the break rooms of different offices before, that this place, near Rosemary exit, is haunted. After so many hours on the road and lack of proper sleep, our imaginations tend to get the better of us.

Maybe knowing that made the whole thing a little more uneasy, but I really didn’t like the bathroom situation. At least that’s what I told myself.

If you’ve never been inside of a truck before, there’s usually two bunks, a small area where you can eat or read a book, regular outlets, and the driver and passenger seats. When you’re sleeping on one of the bunks, you have easy access to a window that you can open up to get some air. I was in the bottom bunk when it happened.

I was trying to fall asleep when I heard something hit the side of the truck. Like when someone’s trying to wake you up to get you to move so they have room to move their trucks around. It happens often.

I opened up the window and looked outside, but couldn’t see anybody. Then I heard the knocking again, this time on the other side of the truck. I moved up toward the seats to get a closer look at my mirrors, just in case I could catch a glimpse at something, but the sides of the truck were empty. Those mirrors give you a clear view all around except for the back part of the trailer, where the trailer doors are.

Then I heard a squeak. There two other trailers parked quite a distance away, and I was sure it was neither of them.

They’re trying to open up my trailer.

I grabbed my baseball bat and flashlight, opened the door to the passenger’s side, and aimed the flashlight at the bottom of the trailer to try to find a pair of legs or someone walking around, but there was nobody there. I stepped down and went around to the back. My door was properly shut.

Confused, I went back to the truck, locked both doors, and started up my engine. I wasn’t going to stay there any longer. I guess I would be three hours early to the warehouse.

I was coming down from one of the long curvy roads through the hills just before getting to the long stretch of desert when I saw something behind the truck. They were flashing red and blue lights. I was getting pulled over. I was going way under the speed limit, since my trailer was loaded and I hadn’t even stepped on the gas, since I was still moving with the momentum I gained from the hills. Maybe that was the problem.

Two police officers came toward the passenger door and asked me to open it. I did and then went back to turn off my engine. They asked me if everything was okay. I asked them what the problem was. They asked me if I was by myself in the truck, and I said yes. That’s when they looked at each other and one of them, the taller one, asked if I could let him take a look around and for me to step down. I said sure, having nothing to hide, I came down, and he went up the steps saying “Police. Hello?”

I told the other officer that I was by myself, but he kept staring at me. I was more confused than anything, since they weren’t being very clear with me. I asked the officer to tell me what they were doing, and that they couldn’t go around doing this kind of thing to people, especially if they’re just trying to work. It was freezing outside too.

Just as the other officer stepped down, the one I was talking to told me to give them a minute. The taller officer explained that the truck was empty, that he checked everything out. I was getting angry at the whole situation, I didn’t understand what was going on.

That’s when they told me their reason. I wish they hadn’t.

The police cruiser was parked on the side of the road when I passed by, slower than usual. As I was driving by, both officers were caught by surprise when they saw a woman waving frantically at them.

From the passenger seat of my truck.

A Light Coming From My Closet

April 18, 2019

I was around 14 years old when this happened, so I was old enough to not be afraid of monsters hiding in the closet or under the bed. That makes this extra embarrassing for me since this is the first time that I share my story publicly.

I was very interested in scary stories since I was a little kid and I had the whole collection of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark, encyclopedias, and printed articles that I got at school about scary events and legends. My mom never liked these books around the house. In fact, she once threw out one of my T-shirts because it had a skull on it. It was no surprise I started finding out that some of my books were going missing because of her.

One night, around midnight, I was woken up by a bright light aimed right at my face. My bed is away from the window, but in my half-awake state, I thought that I was right by it. The light was so bright that I thought there was a police helicopter shining a light at me. Fully awake, I sat up on my bed and realized that the light was coming from the closet.

As soon as I realized this, the light started becoming dimmer and dimmer, until it turned into a tiny candlelight-like spec, but I could see it clearly. I was freaking out so I rolled over and went straight for my door. I could see light underneath the door, so I knew my parents were still awake in the living room down the hallway.

I ran so hard away from my room that I ran into the opposing wall of the hall and my dad came running after me to see what was wrong. I told him what I saw and he could tell that I was shaken up, so he went straight for the closet and started digging through it. He always believed this kind of stuff, especially since I’ve had other encounters before.

He took out a box from the closet and opened it only to find about half of my collection of scary story books. At first, I was happy that I had found them, but reality quickly set in.

What if that light had something to do with the books? I’ll never know. Every once in a while, I wake up thinking that I saw that same light, but I somehow figure out that it’s a dream pretty quickly. I vividly remember the bright blinding light from that one night. I’ve searched countless forums to see if I find similar stories, and I have… though they mention theories about alien abductions. I’m not entirely sure if that’s what happened with me, but they definitely haven’t happened often enough for me to be scared of anything that belongs outside of this world.

Evil Items

April 18, 2019

I don’t believe in witchcraft, but I’ve seen plenty of creepy things. We had just moved into our new house, and having a place to run around in was very fun. My sister and I grew up playing with the kids in our apartment complex, but from now on, it would be just us running around in a big house.

The house has a bathroom all the way in the back corner, which is cool since I don’t like people hearing me go to the bathroom. This particular time, I was ready to pee when I saw a blue figure floating on the top corner of the bathroom. It was about the size of a large dog and was looking straight at me. It was like a large jacket with the arms coming straight down.

I forgot that I had to pee and ran straight for the front door, which seemed like the longest run of my life at the time. So much, that I slipped on the brand new welcome mat that was in the front door. I was trying to catch my breath when I heard a bunch of things fall from inside the house. My parents were probably in the backyard or something, since they came running toward the front door from the side of the house. They asked if I was okay, and I said yes. My sister was in her room and said that she didn’t hear anything.

I was a very quiet kid and I didn’t like to be made fun of, so I didn’t want to tell my dad about the thing I had seen in the bathroom, but I told him anyway. He took me seriously and went to the bathroom to check it out. That’s when he saw that the mirror door from our medicine cabinet had fallen down with a loud crash, as well as the small toothbrush cup and other random things that were in there.

He asked me if I had done it and I said no. He had a very serious expression on his face, and it made me feel a little worried. He asked me to go back outside with him, and I followed. Right by the entrance to the backyard from the side of the house, there was a small balloon-type thing on the floor. He asked me if I knew what that was.

I told him no. He picked it up and poked it with a pocket knife, then dropped the ball. It looked like a juggling ball, except it was all red and looked fairly light. I never touched it though.

He said he stepped on it a little while ago, and wanted to know where it came from. I found it kind of weird to be so obsessed with a little balloon thing, but I didn’t say anything. He went to the car and came back with a lighter while I stood in the same spot. Then he grabbed the ball and I watched as the plastic/rubber material of the ball started melting and the inside started to show. It looked like a bunch of maggots. He dropped the ball to the floor holding the lighter down toward the thing.

As the maggots, which I guessed looked like rice krispies cereal, began to burn up, I saw that there was another thing in the middle of everything. This I could identify easily. It was a coin. Some old-looking coin was the only thing that remained out of the ball. He took it to show it to my mom, and then I never found out what happened to it.

I don’t know if the thing I had just seen in the bathroom was connected to the ball, but many weird things started happening around the house, including sounds of footsteps, dead crows showing up in our front lawn, and even soap bars with holes in the middle appearing in the backyard. I literally have no idea what those things mean, and I’m looking for answers.

It has been over 20 years since then, and my parents still live in the same house. Nothing too weird has happened since those events of my childhood.

The Phenomenon of Time Skipping

March 6, 2019

My uncle has a small ranch in the Sonoran desert. Whenever there’s a family member’s birthday, or some other event, we always assume that it will take place there. It’s about a mile from the main dirt road, and has amazing views of natural desert scenery.

This must have happened six or seven years ago, when we were celebrating another event and my uncle was hosting a barbecue with all of the family. I don’t remember exactly what event it was. I forgot many things about that day, but I still vividly recall one event. The most inexplicable, chilling experience of my life.

Before everyone arrived at the ranch and we were getting ready, I offered to go buy ice down the road at the house of some lady who had made a shop out of her property, which was also her home.

I’ve always liked technology stuff, like iPods, games, and things like that. This time around, I was really into two-way radios that let you scan around for others who were also using them.

Every once in a while, we would mess around with other conversations we would catch on our walkie talkies and make them change channels. I don’t know why we thought this was so funny. I had a pair of them with me, so I left one of them with my cousin and left on my own, updating him with my location and other random stuff just to have something to say. He would always respond with 10-4.

I knew where the lady’s shop was and worked my way there, looking straight ahead. Maybe a 5 minute walk away, I assumed.

I walked up to the front window of the house, where apparently you would “order” from, and I asked for two bags of ice. She grabbed them, I gave her my money, and she gave me the change. I started making my way back with one bag in each hand.

“10-4” my cousin said over the radio.

I hadn’t said anything, though. I couldn’t reply since I had no free hands, so I ignored it.

As I saw the ranch coming into view, the wind started blowing. Those desert winds are terrible on the eyes, with dirt and sand blowing everywhere, so I shut my eyes but kept walking straight ahead for a few seconds.

That’s when I felt the push behind me. It was no longer the wind, but some type of bubble of… a strange force. Like the kind you feel when you put two magnets together with the same poles facing each other. I turned around but still couldn’t open my eyes fully, so I kept walking. I remember feeling strange, like nausea, or nervousness.

The wind now completely cleared up and the ranch came into view, through the fence from a distance. The windows to the main house were shut, and the music was off. Up ahead I could see that the four cars that were parked outside, across the field, were missing.

It was very weird, but my mind didn’t really process the event until I walked to the fence and found it with the chain and huge lock attached to it, holding it together. I rattled it, expecting to hear the dogs come barking, but no dogs ever came.

At first I thought that I had walked to back to the wrong place, to a ranch that looked similar to my uncle’s. But I’ve been there many times and I knew what it looked like. This is the same place we would visit in the evenings when I would come with my uncle to feed his dogs; except the dogs would be here every single time.

I began to panic a little, I started feeling very confused and my head was spinning. I walked around the property, with the ice beginning to melt and leaking next to my footsteps. I put the ice down, and grabbed the radio from my pocket.

I pressed the button to talk, but the talkie didn’t make that little hiccup it does when you pressed it. Do you know what I’m talking about? It wasn’t really a beep, it was just like a… faint static sound that let you know to start talking. I noticed it wasn’t on, so I pressed and held the power button until I started hearing loud static.

Like, too loud. I immediately change the channel, but the sound wouldn’t go away. I lost track of what channel my cousin was on, but I knew what to do: normally I’d just scan all the channels asking for him and waited a few seconds for a response.

Ten minutes must have passed before I decided to just head back to the lady’s store and maybe even head straight toward the main dirt road. I knew the way back to the city, so even if I had to walk for three hours, I knew I would eventually make it. But with all the static, I doubt my signal would break through to anyone.

I picked up the bags of ice once more, put the radio in my pocket, and I figured I would walk back to the lady’s shop. I was a little shaken up.

As soon as the shop came into view, I heard the radio buzz. I put the ice down, took the radio out again. I heard a familiar voice: “10-4”

I didn’t even reply. I just started almost running back to the ranch. When it came into view, everything seemed normal and the music was on. I walked back to the front gate, which was wide open and my uncle’s dogs came running up to greet me. I went straight to the freezer, lifted the ice bags to place them inside, and noticed that the ice was still frozen solid. No signs of water dripping out.

I looked at my faint footsteps in the dirt, and checked for signs of drops of water next to them. I could swear I was following the trail of water when I was hurrying back to the ranch.

But this time, there was nothing

It was a desert, after all. Water evaporates fairly quickly. The heat may have played a trick on me.

Here I go again, trying to convince myself that this is normal. That this happens to everybody.

The Creatures from the Hills

March 4, 2019

I was walking with two friends, Nelly and Amy, along a type of lake formation in the sacred valley of the Incas in Peru. I had already been in Peru for several months as a solo traveler, so having company to go see the sights away from the normal touristy stuff was pretty exciting.

This time, however, it was particularly creepy since we truly had no connection to the civilized world and we were all foreigners, another girl from the U.S. and a girl from France.

For those of you who may not know, Peru has several towns along the huge valley that runs along the country. This has mainly small towns with small shops, poorly lit roads with many potholes, and the traditional farmers who travel to sell their own produce to the larger towns and cities almost every day.

We had gotten dropped off in Chinchero, and planned to go back later that evening. We decided to go exploring. Google Maps has this cool thing that lets you download maps on an iPhone so you don’t need a connection to see it, and when I checked mine, I saw that there was a lake nearby. We decided right away that we wanted to go and got on a taxi to take us there.

The guy seemed confused at first and didn’t know where we were going to go, or how to find an entrance to the lake. We later found out that the lake wasn’t made for tourists and it had a lot of mud and dry grass all around it, so getting up to the shore was almost impossible. Once we got to the entrance by a little boathouse type of thing, we told the taxi that we would find our way back and he left us. It was a peaceful type of silence, knowing that you’re so far away from all noises and city activity.

We walked around until we realized that there wasn’t much we could do there. We started messing around taking pictures and making fun of Amy, since she was the daredevil of the group and would jump between the ditches and would get scared after every sound we heard. There may have been snakes all around there, but there the dry grass was so tall that we would never be able to tell.

The sun was setting and we got distracted with our photos. Since we were in a deep valley, the sun sets earlier. Well, not really sets, but the mountains block the sun earlier than if you were in an area with a flat horizon.

We wanted to go back to the town, but we had two ways to do it. Either we went back along where the driver dropped us off, or we could get some more exploration done if we worked our way back to town away from the road and along what seemed to be dirt roads that led into the hills.

We chose the dirt roads, since we had about an hour until we would be in complete darkness. We figured we would be able to make it.

It was a nice walk, but we really didn’t know where we were going since the map only showed a general direction on where the town was, but the dirt roads weren’t labeled and sometimes they would curve out away from the town. We only hoped that they would eventually wind the right away gain.

Reaching the top of the hills was always nice because you would be able to get a clearer view on where you were. But when I reached the top first, I noticed a man coming toward us from the side of the road.

I asked him, in Spanish, how to get back to the town. He was surprisingly nice, but very curious. He didn’t raise suspicion, and he actually turned out to be very nice.

We followed him toward his house, where we met his wife and children. It may sound fake at this point, but people in Peru are very hospitable and it isn’t weird at all to invite people over. We didn’t go inside, though. We stayed outside, took a couple of pictures, and agreed to come back for a type of meal that gets cooked underground, in a pit, traditional of Peruvian people. I forgot the name of it now, but we were all very excited and agreed to it.

It had already gotten dark outside, but Eddy (the farmer we had just met) mentioned that we should be careful of the little people. The word in Spanish for it is “duende”, which means goblin. He said it with an odd seriousness that made me question what he was talking about. He wasn’t the first person to mention the goblins in South America.

I asked him who they were, and he said that they are little people that live in tiny caves deep in the mountains. He said that sometimes they come by and steal animals, though they have been known to kidnap kids. Someone else had told me that they come from deformed fetuses that women leave to die out in the hills. I was expecting the farmer to laugh or something to relieve the tension, since we were all a bit freaked out by his seriousness.

But his expression never changed.

He was genuinely concerned about the goblins and I think he really wanted us to be careful.

We started walking back, with not much to say. We just wanted to get back to the road, which we eventually found by following the lights and sounds of the occasional truck passing by. We wanted to hop on a taxi, but he was trying to rip us off, so we decided to walk back and try to find a hostel on our own. We knocked around some doors, but not many people would answer.

In the dark streets, I would sometimes look out to the hills and find some figure moving. Maybe my mind was beginning to play tricks on me.

We eventually found a hostel and spent the night there. It was nothing great, and we had very crappy wifi, but at least we were able to send a message out to the rest of our friends to let them know where we were.

The whole night I kept thinking about the goblins. Ever since then, I’ve asked many farmers and old people about goblins. They all have told me the same thing: that they do exist and that they live in the mountains. They have very compelling videos and pictures. Those who have seen the goblins and want to remember them, have actually drawn them out with pen and paper. They all seem to have a type of straw hat, and they have short, stubby, legs.

My girlfriend’s family swears to have had encounters with goblins in the past. They described the thing as a small, old-looking man, with sinister laughter who can scatter like a cockroach when you turn on the light.

I still don’t know if I believe that they exist, but I know that there is a lot of land in the hills in the valleys of Peru, some undisturbed for centuries… the famous tourist attraction, Macchu Picchu, was discovered recently, anyway. Who knows what happens in the darkness of the hills… in the lands that haven’t yet been explored.

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About me



Hi, my name is Edwin and I write and narrate stories. Right now I’m at a desk in my bedroom in California, but in the photo above I was at a gift shop in the mountains of Ecuador. Life is good, isn’t it?
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