People Are Confessing the Worst (and Scariest) Thing They Ever Woke Up To

Setting is the mid 90's. My family went from being very upper middle class to low class in the space of 2 years. We moved cities and my brother got involved in a gang and hated my father, who adopted him with his birth mom (my mom).

He was kicked out of the house for dealing drugs and other shit, blamed my dad and wanted revenge. Rampant alcoholism everywhere.

For a month the gang members would approach the house and attempt to break in. We got one of those motion sensor security lights, which atfik were new at the time and staved of the attacks. My parents started keeping golf clubs under the bed and we all slept together, my parents, my 7 year old sister and myself (I was 9).

They got wise and at the crack of dawn mid summer we were awakened by the sound of the front screen door's glass being smashed in, followed by loud bangs of them trying to break in the front door.

Our folks put us into our own room, which has a window where the front door could be seen from, while grabbing their golf clubs and getting ready to fight for their lives. My brother had been sending death threats to my dad so we were terrified.

I looked out the window and saw them, four late teenage boys, knives flashing and one had a bat. I crept to the door and saw my Mom and Dad, in ready stance with the golf clubs held high. No one called 911, it felt like there was no time.

I remember very clearly thinking that my parents were going to die, and that the assailants were also at the backdoor(learned from previous attempts).

There was a child sized crawl space my sister and I played in down in the basement, and I thought that was the only place we could hide where we may survive, if I could keep her quiet. She was always a deep sleeper and had continued her rest on the bottom bunk through the whole ordeal. Thank God for that.

Turns out my brother had ordered the attack, and lost his nerve at the last moment. I saw him walking up the street towards the house and I somehow knew everything would stop.

Everything stopped but none of us were okay. Personally I realized that hiding under the blankets won't keep you safe, even your own home isn't safe. I spent the next 7 years looking over my shoulder, everywhere I went, before I gained confidence by learning self defense. The rest of my family have never completely recovered.

I still wake up in the middle of the night to this day fighting unseen assailants. Every small noise has me awake and ready to fight for my life.

My husband is amazing for helping me through it, and since getting a dog it has gotten so much better. If you suffer from PTSD due to a traumatic event, I can't recommend canine companions enough.

Fuck violence, fuck people who feel entitled to violent revenge, and especially those who practice it on children.

Username: [deleted]

Blood. Blood everywhere in the bed. I was covered in blood around my waist and she was freaking out. Here is the story.

I was FWB with a girl named...let's call her Jane, for about a year. Strictly no feelings just sex. We fucked almost daily. We were good friends. She invited me to her sister's wedding. I obliged and I attended the wedding with her. Her family is wonderful and the wedding was alot of fun. I had a wonderful evening with her family at her parents home after the wedding and we retreated to our room as everyone retired for the night.

We went at it. Hard. Not violently. I don't believe in violence in the bedroom or between men and women in any way. But we were going hard. I was pretty drunk and she was saying she was starting to get sore. I couldn't get off, mainly from the alcohol. So...I'm not proud of this...I looked around the room while I was pounding her from behind and saw a picture of her sister that just got married, who was fucking hot!!! And I stared at the picture...i imagined I was fucking her sister instead of her...and I came...and it felt nice.

We went to bed.
In the morning I was awoken by her grabbing my shoulders and vigorously shaking me.
Her "Wake up! Wake up!"
Me "Whhhat? What's up?"
Her "Idk!!!"
Me "What's wrong?"
Her (Sounding extremely scared) "idk!!! Look!!!" She screams while she throws the bedsheets back.

There is blood, an alarming amount of blood. It is on her legs and through her pajamas and on her short and hands and arms. It is on my clothes, my hands, my legs, my pajama pants. The blood is all over the bed and sheets around us.

Me " what the fuck!!! Holy shit!!! Can you move!?!"
Her "no it hurts!!! Idk what to do!!!"
I look her in the face. She looks pale.
My mind goes into flight or fight.
Me "we need to go!"

I jump out of bed and pick her up and run to through her parents house covered in blood and carrying their bloody daughter through their house and run to my car. I get her in the car and buckle her up. I jump in and I just floor it. I get her to the emergency rooms doors and get her out of the car and bring her in and the hospital staff and fucking angels and put her on a gurney the second I bring her in. They tell me that I am not her husband and cannot accompany her. I understand and oblige. I wait in the waiting room for what felt like 3 hours.

It was tense in the waiting room. I was covered in blood. Mother's told their children not to look at me. A nurse finally came to get me. She told me the surgery was over.

I followed the nurse and entered the post operating room and I found her tucked into a hospital bed sitting up and waving happily at me. She was surrounded by all of her family. She was very medicated.
Her "hi!!!" She waves enthusiastically. "Look at my scars!!!" She shouts while excitedly tossing her blankets and pulling up her hospital gown.

I somehow find the courage to look at her family and smile while they all look at me with furious glares. I muster up the strength to give her a half smile and sit on the side of her bed. I gently pull her gown down and tuck her back in.
Me "honey...you should rest..."
Her "okay!"

The doctor walked over and said "can I speak to you in private?"
I said yes. We walked over to the other side of the room. I asked what happened. He said she had an ovarian cyst and that it had ruptured. He asked me if we have been sexually active. I told him, in front of her angry family, and with her giggling from the medication, about our sexual activity the night prior.

He extended his hand to shake mine and simply said "I've never met a man who could do this, I just wanted to shake your hand."
"Doctor I don't think that is appropriate"
He put his hands in the air and said "I'm jus saying" and left the room.
Things got akward in that post operating room.

Eventually I left and called my two best bros. I told them everything. I asked them to keep it all confidential. They agreed.

That night I went to a house party, I opened the door and instantly found my two bros in the middle of a huge crowd...one shouted and the other stood on a chair.

They shouted "ANNIHILATOR!!!"
I just sighed and looked at them.
I hugged them both and then we had some much needed shots.
And that is how I earned the nickname annihilator...

Username: the_brown_note_soup

When I was about 14 years old my dad wakes me up and says, "Get your gun! Some guy is trying to break into the house." The first thought that flashes through my mind is some man stepping through one of our windows. I lived in rural Arkansas and had a pump action shotgun for hunting and home protection, so I grab it and some shells (I didn't load it just yet).

Usually, my first thought when I wake up is that I have to go pee, but I didn't have to. All I could think about is, Holy shit, I might have to take another man's life. You think you can mentally prepare yourself to defend your life and you think you can come to terms with defending yourself with deadly force, until that time actually comes and strange thoughts and emotions start flashing through your mind.

I started wondering if this guy had a family and kids and what would happen to them without a dad in their life. Should I shoot to kill if he has a weapon, or should I aim for the arms, or legs and try to make him drop his weapon and spare his life? Should I risk my own life, so some kids can see their scumbag father again? How do I even know if this guy has kids?

What if I know this guy, or his family? What if it's actually some woman with a gun? How could I shoot a woman? What if he shoots my dad? What's the best way to stop a gunshot wound from bleeding? What if my gun misfires? What if I'm dreaming, but am sleepwalking with a gun in my hand? *pinch* Okay, I'm not dreaming.

I have adrenaline pumping through my body, but it's still hard to see because I have crud in my eyes (I have really bad allergies and my eyes are glued shut when I first wake up). I'm wondering if I can even see straight to shoot him, before he can shoot me.

This is some really heavy tactical, philosophical, and moral shit to wake up to and all of these thoughts pop into my head within a minute of being awake. It's a flood of questions.

I am not thinking straight enough to answer them either. I spend the next few minutes walking through my house, checking the windows and trying to figure out where this guy went and where he's coming in at. After a while of asking my dad questions about what happened, things start to make a little bit more sense.

It turned out some guy's car had ran out of gas and he knocked on our door, waking my dad up at 3a.m., just so he could use the phone. My dad tells him he'll call the police for them to come help him out, in which the guy replies, "No, don't call the cops."

After all, who wants to get the cops involved in anything, but my dad assumes the guy is automatically up to no good after saying that and decides to wake me up to this bullshit.

The cops come and it turned out the guy wasn't a threat, had just run out of gas, and my dad overreacted. I couldn't go back to sleep. A few hours later, I had to go to school. Those thoughts and questions stayed with me the entire day and I couldn't focus on anything else.

A few years later, I had been asleep for maybe 4 hours (I stayed up late the night before) and my mom wakes me up this time...on 9-11-2001 by saying, "Terrorist have attacked New York!" I quickly put my clothes on, rush to the TV in the living room, and the first image I see is a wide shot of NY that looks similar to [this](http://assets.nydailynews.com/polopoly_fs/1.420109!/img/httpImage/image.jpg). It felt like all the blood drained from my body. I got a sick feeling in my stomach.

My first thought was that terrorists couldn't have done this and we had to be at war with some other country. I thought it had been nuked and when they said that Washington had been hit also, I was thinking all these cities were going to be hit with ICBMs, or something.

A few minutes later, they show the planes hitting the buildings and I only realized then that it wasn't nuclear weapons. I'm sure I don't have to explain what the rest of that day felt like, but that's not something I ever want to wake up to again.

Username: bracomadar

I had just arrived for a vacation in Mexico. It was the first night in the country and rather than stay at a tourist resort like everyone else my parents decided to stay at a more private location. It was a sort of suite in a 3 suite small compound.

Each suite was in a separate building each with their own locks etc. There was also a shared small pool and a large locked gate out front. Our suite had 2 bedrooms, 1 for my parents, and 1 with 2 beds for my brother and I.

Upon arrival to the suite we began to unpack and then proceed with our day. We briefly noticed that all sliding windows had wooden bars behind them to prevent them from being opened from the outside. All but one.

In the middle of that night, I was awoken my a bang and a shadowy figure above me. I asked out "egorf38's brother?" but the person ran out of the room as fast as they could. I realized that we had just been robbed and that the bang that woke me up was the sound of my MacBook charger disconnecting from my computer in my backpack and the power brick hitting the floor.

The thief made away with my backpack with my laptop, iPod, camera, and stack of DVDs, as well as my brothers bag with his laptop and more tech too.

I yelled to my parents and ran into the main room of the suite to find the one window without a wooden beam open and the thief nowhere to be found. I hop out the window to see if I can get a look to give some sort of description to the cops. I run through a little covered garage and through the locked gate to look down either side of the street, still no sign of the thief.

I think to myself that this guy must have climbed over the tall locked gate on his way in and out and made it all the way down the street by the time i got out, so i must have been robbed by Usain Bolt We call the cops and they come to take our statement and thanks to a few years of Spanish in high school I was pretty effectively able to describe what was taken and the description of our bags.

After a very sleepless night of waking up every time a fly landed on the wall, the next morning we walked outside the suite to head to the local PD to get an official report for insurance reasons. We walk out into the covered garage area to see my brothers empty backpack along with some worthless stuff in his bag beside the garbage bins.

The thief must have hid behind the garbage bins and watched me run out into the street, and he had enough time to sort through my brothers bag and discard what he didnt need

That was probably the closest i have ever come to dying, because some thief could give two shits about some gringo like me, and very easily could have either killed me in my sleep or as soon as i woke up, or when ran past him into the street.

We suspect it was some sort of inside job with the people who ran the place, or at least some of the staff because of the one window missing the bar, but we never really got any confirmation either way

Bit of a happy ending though, a) we didnt get murdered any of the following nights b) most of our tech was pretty old so when we got back home, insurance paid for all new laptops, ipods, cameras and rather than give me each DVD that i had in my stack, they just gave me $25 on a gift card for each movie so i had hundreds of dollars that i could use for anything at Future Shop.

I had also learned about torrenting since buying those DVDs so the money went towards a nice flat screen TV.

Username: egorf38

Okay, so how about this: It was freshman year of college. I lived in a double. So that night my roommate had some of high school friends over to hit up some of the frat parties.

I dont remember too well, but for some reason I stayed in that night. Maybe taking it easy or something. So around 2am my friends come over and drop off one of my plastered friends for me to take care of.

They were all pretty wasted and it was up to me to look out for the worst one off. So they drop off my friend. She passes out instantly. So around 3am my roommate comes on along with his friends. They immediately pass out out as well. My roommate on his bed and three of his friends on the floor.

Everything was cool....So around 5am i hear what sounds like someone spilling a cup of water. No biggie. I try to sleep on. But the sound of water spilling continues and goes on for a really really long time. I thought it may be someone peeing, but I really didn't want it to be true, so I tried to keep sleeping.

The sound of water spilling didn't stop. So finally I open my eyes and I see a tall guy standing near one of the corners of the room. I was like "awww fuck." So i turn on the lights and the guys stumbles back to his sleeping place on the ground.

I yell "Dude, Seriously. What the Fuck!" All the guys in the room wake up. My roommate asks what is going on so I tell him "Dude, your friend just pissed against that wall." One of my roommates friends had been asleep next to that wall. He wakes up confused. He asks "Why am I wet?"

I bust up laughing. It was just too fucking funny. I tell him "Your friend just peed on YOU!" He goes, "Nah, Nah man. That aint cool. Nah. Really?" He smells himself and them just vomits all over himself. The guys are all confused and severely inebriated. Its all too much for me to take in.

So I call it quits, turn off the lights on go back to bed. Everyone follows suit. So in the morning I wake up to the sounds of the guys in the room waking up. I sit up and I am just staring at them all. Big look of disapproval.

The guys are acting as though nothing has happened. Then the guy that had vomited on himself notices that he is covered in what looks like tomato sauce. He starts asking how he got that shit all over himself. I just look and ask my roommate "You serious? You dont remember what happened last night?"

He responds "Yeah I remember, we partied hard and then we came back and crashed here." To which i reply "Yeah, you crashed and then your friend over there took a piss against that wall, peed all over your other friend and then the peed on guy vomited." My roommate could not believe my story,"

Nah man, I bet you are just trying to play a practical joke on us. Look there is a pizza box there, I bet you just smeared that on my friend to make it look like throw up." At this point I am just waiting for their memories to come back. So I point at location in which the dude had pissed at.

There is a pair of my roommates fancy dress shoes. I tell my roommate "If you dont believe me, do touch the ground over there. Touch it all around." He gets on his knees and starts feeling around the ground. It is soaking. He still says that it may be part of a practical joke I'm playing on them.

He picks up his fancy shoe and turn it around and piss comes pouring out. He looks at me with an 'Oh Shit' kinda look on his face. I say, "So Right! He got up pissed on that corner of the room, in the process peed all over that guy. He wakes up and pukes on himself cause he got peed on.

Seriously dude, you guys are too fucking funny." I got my friend that had been left in my care, took her back to her place and slept in the TV lounge for the rest of the week that we had left of that school term.

Username: green_pack88s

Story time! My wife and I move into a new house and everything is great. About a month or two in, we start hearing little scratches in the attic.

So, we call a pest control company and, after seeing signs of rat poop in the attic, they immediately get to work sealing up all the various cracks and holes on the exterior with mesh and caulking.

With all the rats trapped inside, they got to work setting a bunch of traps up in the attic. As they leave at the end of the day, one of the guys turns back smiling and says "have a good night!" Did he just wink at me? I think he winked at me... Wtf?

Fast forward to 1 or 2 a.m. and the wife and I both wake up to the sound of dozens of little traps snapping in the attic all across the house.

We're horrified as we start realizing how many rats must have been living above our heads these past few months. Anyway after about an hour the snaps settle down (and so do we) and we eventually fall back asleep...

Fast forward another few hours, maybe 3 or 4 a.m. at this point, and we are startled awake by a loud BANG. After convincing myself that people aren't breaking in and that wasn't a gunshot, my mind starts racing as I try to figure out what could possibly make a noise like that.

It sounded like a sheet metal drum. I go out into the hallway to investigate and realize the only sheet metal thing in the house is the furnace in the hallway closet. I open the door to the furnace and out comes barreling the biggest f****** steroid tank rat you've ever seen.

Seriously like a weight lifting gym bro cartoon sized rat bolting straight past me to the bedroom where my wife is still laying in bed.

I chase after it and it goes into my closet and buries itself in the corner under a pile of ski gear. There's no movement, so I have some time to collect my thoughts and think of a plan while it's hiding. I go to the garage and grab a broom and dustpan thinking I could catch this beast and throw it outside. I start peeling back the pile and of course this bowling ball launches out at the first sense of movement and disappears into our bathroom.

New plan. This fat f*** is too fast to catch. I'm going to trap it in a cabinet. So, I open up the cabinet door under the sink and then shut the bathroom door with myself and the rat still inside.

I sweep blindly all the corners of the bathroom until he jumps out and thankfully dives into the pile of toilet paper and other junk in the cabinet. I slam the cabinet door shut and breathe a sigh of relief.

I go back to the furnace closet to investigate and see that the rat chewed at the sheetrock opening that lets the furnace vent pipe through the ceiling to make a notch just big enough for him to squeeze through. The bang was him dropping down 4 ft from the attic onto the sheet metal top of the furnace cabinet.

With the situation under control, I investigate the corner of the closet under the ski gear, and see my ski pants chewed full of holes and covered with rat pee and rat poop.

We didn't sleep the rest of the night. In the morning the pest control team returned to collect all of the rat traps from the attic. I told them about the live trapped rat under the bathroom sink and they all had a good laugh. The guy in charge put on a pair of gloves, went into the bathroom, closed himself in, grabbed the rat (without any problem at all), and tossed him outside.

Meanwhile, the winking guy came down the ladder out of the attic holding half a dozen rats in each hand by the tail and heads crushed by the traps. "They love the peanut butter!" he said, with another wink.

Username: did_it_for_the_queso

There was this friend of mine (I'm a guy and she is a girl) lets call her Cristina and she spoke fluent spanish, in fact thats why we were friends (I needed a spanish tutor).

I am married and love my wife dearly but this other girl had developed a little bit of an obsession and by the time I had realized it, she had already gone a little off the deep end. She didn't know where I lived but there was one day while I was rehabbing our bathroom.

I had taken the toilet off the flange and set it aside and sewer gases had made me sick so I went to lay down.

I woke up to hear some noises in the kitchen but I knew my wife was going to be off work by then and was probably prepping dinner. I fell back asleep for another hour and finally woke up for good.

I walked out of my bedroom and said "Honey, whats for dinner?" and Cristina yells out "Tacos." I was like "What the fuck?" Now, my wife can't stand this girl and doesn't want to have anything to do with her, so I knew there was no way that this girl had been invited over.

I ran into the kitchen and said "what the hell are you doing here?" She said that she had been invited over by my wife for dinner and that she was prepping some things.

I contemplated calling my wife to see if it was true until I walked by my wedding photo and saw that Cristina HAD TAPED HER FACE OVER MY WIFES.

Not only that, she had done it to EVERY PHOTO IN THE ENTIRE HOUSE WHILE I HAD BEEN SLEEPING. The worst part for me is that she had no idea where I had lived in the first place!

Come to find out, she had bought a subscription to an online service that allows you to find anyones address by looking them up by name. I immediately went to my room to call the police but couldn't find my cell phone.

I turned around and she had my cell phone in her hand and said "looking for this?" and then proceeded to throw it in the pot of boiling water. I'm 6'2" 195 lbs and I'm not a small guy and this girl was significantly smaller than I am.

I panicked and grabbed her by her hair and pushed her out my front door, closed it and locked it. I could hear her outside the door, screaming, crying and kicking the door trying to get in. I keep a prepaid cellphone in my desk for emergencies and never thought I would ever have to use it.

I called 911 and had her arrested. My wife came home late that night and saw the police interviewing me and saw Cristina in hand cuffs in the back of the police cruiser. When I told my wife the whole story, she didn't say anything initially.

A few years later my wife came clean and told me that she had invited Cristina over that night for dinner knowing full well that she would go bat shit crazy (she didn't know anything about the pictures though) and that she knew it would get Cristina out of our lives for good.

Username: [deleted]

When we still lived on the farm, we would shut the big swing gate to the driveway and let the horses just come on up to eat the grass - a wonderful way to not have to mow your lawn! (That is, if you AND your kiddos are very adept at side-stepping those horse-sized piles of poo...🙄).

But here in Texas the summers get H-O-T. So, like the poor, young family that we were, we had to turn off the AC at night and pop those windows open all over the house. Mostly it was fine. But NOT when our orneriest horse - named "Shorty" (not sure why) figured it'd be out that, if he came up to our bedroom window & whinnied real loud, it was a pretty sure thing ('thang') that SOMEBODY was gonna get outta bed and go feed him. Yeah.

And vthat was bad enough. But it's fixin' to get waaaayy worse... Yeah. The worst part was when he figured out how to take the whole dadgum SCREEN off and then stick his whole damned HEAD in the window!!

We found this out in a particularly horrible way... Let me explain - that is, if I can do it without getting banned or something... Let's just say that, as hardworking parents of three young children, our 'private time' (what my husband referred to by saying, "Hey, why don'cha come help me wash my back..." - nevermind that a shower was not even necessary for said private time) was few & far between. Out of sheer exhaustion, this became more of a 'morning activity' rather than any type of romantic-dinner-what-in-the-hell-is-that for us.

And this morning, Ol' Shorty must'a been pretty darned close by. Because, no sooner had the sshhh-be-quiet-yer-gonna-wake-the-kids!! activities had commenced, the whole front half of a horse just stuck his dadgum head THRU THE WINDOW, whinnied & snorted loud enough to not only wake the dead, but almost enough to cause an immediate myocardial infarction.

I screamed, my husband bucked me off (pun intended) right past the edge of the waterbed & smack dab into the wall. I landed pretty much upside down in my "all-togethers" (i.e., "nekkid") and just lay there crumpled, and starting to laugh & snort myself.

I think my husband thought he'd hurt me & that I'd started to cry, but I simply huhcouldn't stop laughing long enough to reassure him that I wasn't. By the time he gave me a hand up, the kids were banging on the door, the dogs were barking, the horse was still halfway inside our room and we were STILL NEKKID.

I grabbed for my robe as I tossed my hubby a towel (or whatever else was lying close to hand on the floor). And that's when Ol' Shorty decided we weren't paying him enough mind....he thought he should just step right on in (thru the window) and say 'howdy-doo'.

I screamed again, kind'a flappin' my robe at him and my husband muttered, "That (beep-beep), mother(beeping) sonofa(BEEP)!!! I think it's about time he went to go visit the FRENCH!!!". (And to those of you who do not know what that means, let's just say that French folks do like to eat them some horse once in a while. And, around here, that threat is about equal to sayin' you're taking the equine-problemicus "down to the glue fac'try". I'm not going to dwell on either of those scenarios at present..

Suffice it to say that three things happened after that momentous day:
All the horses - even the well-behaved ones - had to go back to the pasture; the next day we found a good, cheap little lawn tractor that someone (guess who?!!) got to drive.

We were allowed to keep the windows closed 24 hrs a day and RUN THE AIR CONDITIONER all freaking night!!! (Oh, the joy of luxurious living!!), and

If either one of us was feelin' particularly 'frisky' after that, our secret code was - you'll never guess - to whinney loud & clear....just like a particularly ornery caballo I know.

P.S. Don't worry about Ol' Shorty: he lived a long & fruitful life, although he had to give up his favorite wake-up calls for his early-mornin' breakfasts!

And that, my friends, is my take of the scariest thing I have ever woken up to. Bada-bing-bada-boom.

Username: mendag

A few years ago, myself and some friends were overseas at a music festival in a very warm and humid part of the US. We road tripped down with some friends and mutual friends of theirs drove along in another car, we met them briefly before the festival and they all seemed chill, but were clearly much younger.

We spent the entire weekend partying and doing general festival related things, then on the final night of the festival, everyone staying in my room was exhausted from the weekend and pretty drunk and ready to go to bed when we got a knock on the door. It was one of the mutual friends that we met before (let’s call him John).

Given the vibe of the whole weekend, John came along with no accomodation booked and pretty much just stayed on floors the whole time on people’s good will. This was pretty normal considering it would’ve been an expensive weekend otherwise and we were more than happy to have him.

We dug out some spare blankets and pillows and stumbled into bed, I assume that John was just as tired as us and found a little nook on the floor.

Fast forward about 6 hours; I wake up to my roommate SCREAMING. Like, worried, horrid, ‘oh-shit-something-really-really-bad-is-happening’ screeching from the bathroom. I immediately jump up out of bed and start asking what’s going on. The roommate says nothing, just walks back from the bathroom in shock.

I was still pretty drunk / hungover and luckily don’t remember freaking out too much, because when I think back I probably would’ve assumed someone was dead if I was in a better state.

I walked into the bathroom and found John laying naked on the floor. Covered head to toe in his own shit, i am talking eveywhere. As were the walls and mirror of the bathroom.

Things get a bit blurry after this, I was in shock. But I wanted to know if he was ok. John wasn’t saying much, I think he had come to his senses in the last hour or so and didn’t know what was happening either.

There were two other people asleep in the other bed and I knew they would be awake soon enough. We found John a towel and I think he just went back to sleep on the floor.

When the others woke up, we quickly informed them of the situation and went outside to discuss what we were going to do - How do you tell hotel staff what has just happened?

At this point we had been out of the room for a good 6 hours and the heat and humidity was starting to set in. We decided to just straight up tell the reception desk what we’ve found and we’ll tell John that he will have to pay the deposit for the cleaning, because it’s not just a little spill.

For some reason the hotel must’ve empathised with our situation and never sent us a bill. They just went in, did what needed to be done and never said a word.

As for John, it turns out he took acid for the first time ever just before he came into our room that night. Seeing as we were all exhausted, we never would’ve heard much from him once it kicked in and we can only imagine what happened in the following hours.

I’ve asked my mutual friend if they’ve spoken, but she hasn’t heard much and she moved away from the area not long after. Hopefully old mate John is doing alright and has a great story to tell around the campfire.

Username: [deleted]

In my old home, my room was in the basement which had an unfinished ceiling. You could basically see the vent system and patches of insulation along with the various eight-legged, web-slinging nopes that would take up residence in the nice and cozy corners of the ceiling.

Now getting dive bombed at eye-level in the day by random spiders hanging by their web was terrifying, watching a wolf spider rapidly dart across the pillow I was resting my head on almost tempted me to get the gas can, but nothing compares to the night I was so unfortunately graced by the presence of one of those many legged abominations that could only spawn from the most demented and tormented pits of Hell.

I can still relive the moments of that horrendous night. So there I was, resting on my bed watching some TV while I try to drift asleep. One of my favorite shows, Survivorman, was on, and I just had to see what that crazy Canadian bastard had in store for me that night.

As I was watching him make a fire, utilizing a piece of glass he found from some random piece of litter while some wild animal is strangling itself on the snare he crafted out of dental floss, I began to peacefully fall asleep. There was something different about this sleep.

Maybe it was the warm lighting in the room aided by the tranquil sounds of Les Stroud surviving in the background, but as I began to drift away resting on my back with my bare chest facing the dreaded Satan's asshole that was my ceiling, I never dozed off in such a comfortable way like I did that night. To my demise, the conspiring arachnids and other disliked entities above me had different plans.

My eyes were closed and I swear I was starting to lucid dream until I felt a little piece of fluff land on my chest. It was one of those moments where time slows down, and I don't know how I felt it, but I guess I was somewhere between awake and dreaming, so what I thought had landed on me was a little piece of insulation or dust, but wait a minute, dust doesn't have legs, or moves with a speed of 100 fucking legs. No, this was no common dust bunny, that would be too forgiving to me.

Oh no my friend, one of [THESE FUCKERS](https://imgur.com/1HHsugw) had just landed on my chest and began to crawl around. Imagine a million little hairs (but thick fucking hairs) tickling your chest and sending that same sensation up your spine and chilling you to the bone.

I never ripped something off my chest so fast in my life, but let me tell you, if these fucking cunts excel in one skill it would be fucking your nervous system up.

The moment I grabbed it, it must have engaged the "oh shit, time to freak the fuck out lol" mechanism and started weaving with immense speed between my fingers, sending another shiver of this time now metal bristles down my spine. I never threw something so hard on the ground. I swear my arm yeeted that bitch in the ground like that kid yeeted baseballs in Rookie of the Year.

I remember it hitting the floor, and as I go to finish the foul creature with a slipper, I was too slow as it went in between the bed and the wall. At that point, the feeling of bristles on my skin didn't stop and I began to freak out and check myself for anymore leg cunts. I ran upstairs and checked myself over and over in the mirror.

The feeling of little legs invading my body would not go away. Eventually the shock subsided, and I was somehow able to fall back asleep on the couch upstairs, far away from any other multi-legged offenders.

I still get flashbacks of the terrifying legs crawling on me, and to this day I will always check my ceiling wherever I sleep. Les Stroud would have saved me if he was there.

Username: obzidizor

At around 3-4am on a particularly bad weather night, I was awoken by the LOUDEST noise I'd ever heard. Was a massive pop, almost like an explosion but no after noise just a sudden and extremely loud bang went off.

When I woke up it was pitch black, no lights in my room were on that are usually passively on like those little power lights on certain electrical devices, absolutely black and no street lights on either.

So I'm sitting there in the blackest black being awoken by the loudest loud I've ever heard, then all of a sudden out the window I see the brightest goddamn light take off and completely blast through my window to almost a point to where I could have been blinded.

The light was so bright and it was extremely colorful and was flickering accompanied by a very loud and vibrating noise that sounded like a god damn alien space ship was outside my window getting ready to do something f-ing crazy.

You know that moment in Independence Day when the alien ship is hovering over that massive building with all those hippies on it...well yeah the colors were all there the intensity the vibrations I actually started crying cuz I thought I was about to die!

But then, as quickly as it all started it end with yet another loud poping noise but this time I could make out what I was hearing and suddenly clued in to what was actually happening.

So that night, we had a crazy amount of freezing rain and it literally coated EVERYTHING it touched, including the power lines...

The first initial pop that woke me up must have been the power lines outside shorting or something of that nature I may be wrong with my terminology but it sent through a huge power spike into all the surround houses and all the outlets exploded with electrical discharge.

And the lights I was seeing outside my window, (unfortunately not aliens) was actually the power lines arcing from the damage of the freezing rain.

I've been woken up from police barging into my room without a moments notice and yes that was scary but not like this, when you're a true believer of aliens and something like this happens you really start to get bloody truly frightened.

What made it really authentic was the extremely loud vibrating noise that shook the house and the colorful lights shining blindingly through my window.

In the end, I walked outside to see whats what, just to make sure what I thought was the logical explanation was actually what it was and sure enough it was.

It's pitch black outside in the street and my big bellied neighbor comes out with nothing but his boxers on and we just look at each other for a good 10 seconds and finally start talk for a moment to find out what the hell happened.

Once we were satisfied with our 3-4am deductions we both called it and went back in, and that ladies and gentlemen is my scariest wake up story.

Username: WalMartSkills

This was probably in the top 5 most physically uncomfortable/painful scenarios in my life.

When I was 15 or 16, my uncle invited me to go skiing with him and his skiing buddies at Mount Killington (Vermont). They rented a communal house for the extended weekend, where we slept, ate, etc. We arrived there late at night, so we went immediately to bed. In our room were a single and bunk bed. My uncle took the single and I the bottom bunk, and we quickly dozed off.

Several hours later, I woke up to this unbelievably searing pain in my left eye. It hurt when I applied pressure. It hurt when I moved my eye at all. Every time I rubbed it to try to get whatever I believed was in it out, I would cringe at the wave of pain that came immediately after.

I ran to the bathroom, completely disoriented. I turned the light on, but had to forcibly keep my eye open because of how sensitive it was to the light.

The tiles floor was absolutely freezing, so I had to literally keep switching legs to stand on. I had to mentally prep myself to open my eye for only 5 seconds at most, quickly looking through the many tears and the bloodshot to see if there were something inside. The way I could describe the pain was a small, sharp object being pushed into my eye by my eyelids whenever I would rotate my eye.

The sum of the cold, the sleep deprivation, and the constant surges of pain basically made me start crying. I quickly woke up my uncle and told him to look at me (in the 5 second intervals that I would force to keep it open while the light was on), but he saw nothing there.

After 1 or 2 hours up, I just laid down in bed. I closed my eyes, didn't shift it to wear the pain was radiating from, and somehow managed to fall back asleep.

I woke up in the morning with a lesser pain. There was still a lot of tearing and light sensitivity, but it was much more bearable. By the end of the skiing day, it settled down to just a noticeable discomfort.

Welp, I went to bed and woke up with the same exact story, except now in the other eye! I thought I made it worse the night before by prodding and poking around, so I barely touched it and left it alone. It hurt less the second day of skiing.

I thought that some form of dust/lint or wood shavings from the underside top bunk got into my eyes and caused the irritation, so I decided to sleep on the top bunk on the third night. Welp, third time's the charm, I woke up with pain AGAIN. And again, I didn't touch it, and the overall pain was less the rest of the day.

I went home, and my eyes healed up. I would wake up with the aforementioned pain at the most random of nights later on, so I decided to go to an ophthalmologist to see what was wrong.

Welp, the doctor said that there seems to be nothing visibly wrong with my eyes. A couple of her patients had the same kind of trouble that I have, in which pain would arise out of nowhere, and then go away just as quickly.

Apparently, I have atrophy in a certain part of my eyelids that would cause those parts stick to and grind against the eyeball, which would lead to the irritation. She gave me some eye cream to put on every night.

I don't use the eye cream, but do occasionally wake up with a sudden sharp pain in my eye. My first instinct is not to rub or put pressure on my eyes as I mistakenly did the first night. Now, all I have to do is just gingerly pinch and pull my eyelid off the eyeball, and put it back down, and the pain would go away.

Username: PM_ME_LARGE_CHEST

Sleeping in bed with my partner at the time. We lived in a house built in the early 1890s, very rickety old thing but beautiful with lots of character.

And rumored history, as you'd suspect with a dwelling that old. I'm a very light sleeper, partner could sleep through a freight train horn.

Around 2am that night I woke up to something like a soft chuckling sound. Assumed it was partner giggling in his sleep; he regularly talked, laughed, and even sang in his sleep.

So I just ignored it, rolled over to try to fall asleep again. But it happened again, this time since I was awake I could tell it was clearly not coming from him. The laughing was louder this time it seemed, and mixed with weird moans.

Fucking what? I sat up, looked around frantically but trying to stay quiet so I could hear where it was coming from. It was in our closet. The door to which was literally 10 inches from the side of our bed at the head, partner's side.

I stared at the door and listened for more, frozen and totally freaked out. The laughing happens again, more moans, and it sounds reminiscent of Chuckie, the creepy murderous doll.

I decide I'm either in a crazy realistic nightmare, or the old house is finally showing some evidence of its rumored haunted nature; either way, flip on my bedside lamp, grab my Glock out of the drawer and start tiptoeing around the bed over to the closet.

Take a deep breath, glance at partner (still dead asleep), lean back and use my foot to catch the doorknob and swing open the door. No person, no Chuckie, no demon from Insidious, no asshole ghost from years past playing a sick joke.

The laughing continues though! It's fucking in there, for sure! Full firing stance, I sweep the small closet side to side, thinking maybe whatever it is is behind our hanging clothes? Then another laugh and moan. It's coming from a box on the floor... I kick the box, pistol aimed.

It rolls over sideways and out pops a Furby. A fucking Furby, those demon "toys" from the late 90s, y'all remember. Mofucker is laughing and making those weird moans still, its googly eyes seemingly starting at me, amused by my terror.

Partner had woken up at some point during this, asked wtf I was doing with my gun out - I pursed my lips, reached down and picked up the demon, held it out for him to see and just stared.

Apparently he'd put it in the closet for temporary holding until he planned to give it to his niece in a few weeks as an awkward regifted birthday present (it was a toy of his that his parents had for some reason held onto and made him take back with him after our most recent visit to them).

Idk if y'all remember, but Furbys are super sensitive to motion and sound; they'll start responding to the slightest stimulus. I still don't know whaf tripped it. Bad timing - not what you want to wake up to in the middle of the night!

A couple days later we took it to a friend's land and shot the thing ~30 times. Sorry, niece.

Username: cocoanutter

Not me, but my sister-in-law (we’ll call her “Stacy”). One of the most terrifying stories I’ve ever heard. I hope I get all the details right and do it justice.

Stacy and her boyfriend (“Dave”) are living in an apartment complex. She wakes up in the middle of the night one evening and swears she can see the outline of someone in their pitch black bedroom. She kind of sits there, paralyzed, not sure if she’s half asleep or seeing something for real.

She eventually wakes up Dave and whispers, “I think there’s someone in the room with us. Do you see him?” By the way, it’s a very small room and he’s at the foot of the bed, maybe ten feet away.

Dave sits up, takes a look - remember, it’s pitch black, and neither one of them turns on the light - and says, “You’re seeing things.

Go back to sleep.” So Stacy figures, they always lock the door before bed, she knows she’s checked the door, too, so how would anyone even get in? She somehow manages to fall back asleep.

The next morning, Stacy asks Dave about what happened, and he admits that he had definitely seen someone in the room, but didn’t want to excite the guy, so he pretended he didn’t see him, hoping the guy would just leave.

They check the front door and its unlocked, and Stacy *knows* she locked it before bed, so this is more proof that they were invaded. She reports the incident to the apartment complex, but no one takes it too seriously.

A few days later, someone in another apartment reports a similar event, knowing for certain she had locked her door, but finding it unlocked the next morning after a visit from a stranger.

The apartment complex decides to have a community meeting and - now taking Stacy seriously - asks her to detail her events to the group. She declines out of fear, but figures she’ll at least show up sort of incognito to see if she can spot the guy.

Sure as shit, she sees a dude in the crowd who she is certain is the assailant, but she can’t really do much about it because she’s going off of instinct. Again, Stacy’s story is ignored by the apartment complex.

About a week later, another tenant is awakened in the middle of the night in her apartment. A guy had broken in and was strangling her when she woke up, screamed and fought the guy off. He ran out the front door, which was unlocked, and like the others, the tenant swore she had locked the door before bed.

I don’t remember how the guy was eventually caught, but he was an ex-maintenance person who had keys to everyone’s apartments.

He had either quit or been fired and was using his access to slowly get up the nerve to fulfill what seemed like a murderous impulse. That night Stacy thought she saw someone at the foot of her bed? That was this guy, building up courage.

This was maybe 20 years ago, and I have absolutely no idea how Stacy then managed to live alone (thankfully, she left Dave) and fall soundly asleep at night in apartments for years of end.
Username: s_matthew

A mouse trying to get away from my cat by hiding in my hair, it's pretty fluffy. So, in short, I woke up because a mouse hid in my hair and my cat jumped it anyway. Closest I've ever gotten so a heart attack.

I FELT those little rodent hands, then a 12 pound cat landed on my head before I could make sense of it. I sat up, yeet my pillow out of fricking orbit, and yeet the cat after it (not literally), flailing my arms like a lunatic and choked out various colourful curses in my extremely gravelly sleep voice.

(Think lots of whiskey and cigarettes.) Earning myself a very annoyed sneer from my SO, who had no clue what was going on and generally hates being woken up.

Rolls himself in his blanket like a tortilla and everything, glaring from under his eyebrows and bedhead, until I managed to shout something along the lines of; "Clasie has a live mouse!" (Clasie is the cat of course)

To which he responded; "yeah, so?" (this was not new, you see) Me; "IN THE BED!" I have never seen a man un-tortilla himself that fast.

He rolled over twice, and literally bounced up out of bed. It's on me. Should have closed the bedroom door. Plain and simple.

Context of the story: Little fucker likes to bring home prey alive, but we let him out anyway. He used to be a barn cat before getting cooped up in an apartment with my father in law which made him miserable.

So we adopted him and gradually started letting him back out, solved all of his misbehaviours, and we realised how important it is to this particular cat to go out and prowl. Hence why we continue to let him do so.

Prey includes mice, rats, the occasional bird, dragonflies, butterflies, moths, and bats. Yes. Bats. 6 so far. We had him vaccinated for rabies, just to be sure. He brings them home alive, which always leads to interesting adventures.

But we know how to handle them in a way safe to us and the animals by now. We let animal control pick it up and check it for rabies. We don't kill them, just put them safely in a little box with airholes.

He's a happy kitty now. Well behaved, very sociable, almost at dog level when we have people over or come home, and loves to cuddle.

He even made friends among a few neighbours, on his own. We accept the occasional midnight adventure as part of the deal with all the love and good times the furry little fiend brought us.

Oh yeah, he is indeed on the heavy side. He is a BIG boy. As in, he is actually a fairly large cat. Not just a regular sized fat one. On top of that, he is King of the Jungle in the neighbourhood, he's a bit of a beefcake.

I don't know what kind of genes a cat needs to become ripped like mine, but seeing as I wrangle him on a regular basis for flea-drip purposes, I can tell you that boy is STRONG.

The vet agrees, he's a bulky boy, could lose a pound, but not too fat in her opinion. So don't worry about his health. I just have a Terminator-Tarzan for a cat. Tuxedo, no breed.

Username: ILikeLamas678

I woke up to my alarm early Black Friday to go shopping before work. Even shopping sales with my Christmas bonus can't wake me up immediately though so I hit snooze once or twice but finally dragged myself up and out of bed, down the hall for my morning cigarette.

My front door was open. My still sleeping brain dismissed the open front door, rationalized I was tired when I came home and must have left the front door wide open. Until I turned from my front door to discover my kitchen window open. Not just open but one of the panes is broken out and it is propped open.

My heart stopped, I ran to my bedroom to get my husband's handgun imagining someone is just behind me in the darkened hallway the entire time. I slammed my bedroom door shut, grabbed my phone and opened the drawer that should have had the gun.

No gun. Fuck. So now I just know someone is not only in the house but they have a gun to use against me. I. AM. GOING. TO. DIE.

I start calling my husband who took our children out of state to his family's house for Thanksgiving. I still don't know exactly why I didn't call the police at that point, panic probably.

My husband's phone is ringing. Ringing. Voicemail. I hung up and called back. Then hung up and called back.

On the 4th attempt I'm breathing normally. Have started to work it out in my head if someone came in through the window they probably aren't going back out the window. Hence the open door.

Husbands phone stops ringing..."hello?" a female voice I don't know answers and I can hear loud bar music and drunk assholes behind her.

All the panic and adrenaline from the last 5-8 minutes changed to absolute rage. I could be dying and he's in a bar, some bitch is answering husband's phone...WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY CHILDREN???

And I am screaming all of that at this woman. Who was just a bartender answering a phone that had been turned in.

After getting her assurance she will tell Husband of the Year to call me if she sees him I call my mother in law and find out she has my kids, they're fine. She's pretty sure Husband has his gun with him (why??) but she has no clue where he is at.

She stayed on the phone while I assessed the damage and checked every hidey-hole. I was alone and it appears whoever came in was rudely interrupted (probably by my alarm clock). The computer was unplugged but not taken.

The PlayStation, all the games, DVDs, DVD player were all gone along with a bong, some seeds and other paraphernalia but overall they didn't get very much. On their way out the door, while leaving a breadcrumb trail of weed baggies and seeds they walked past my purse with credit cards, debit cards and $1500 cash.

My husband did have his gun "because he might need it" in his dad's super ritzy gated community. He came back for his phone after about 45 min. but at that point there wasn't anything left to say.

I never called the police because they wouldn't do anything except maybe find a stem or seed and arrest me. Worst Black Friday ever.

Username: AmandaTwisted

I spent basically every waking second of summer vacations and weekends during school at my friends house. His dad had a home theater in the basement. As long as we didnt wake them up and cleaned the mess up he let us have a lan party down there constantly. It was a fully furnished basement.

So anyway we basically did nothing but play halo 3 and COD4MW1 and GH3 for two years in my friends basement.

Every single time we decided to call it and pass out. I just slept right there in the basement on the couch and everyone else went upstairs and slept in the living room or on the floor in his room. I did this hundreds of times. Nothing odd ever happened.

So one night we all decide to pass out. Im sleeping as I always have but the dream is really just off. I still remember it vividly to this day.

Im driving my car around a never ending turn and every time I get close to the edge on the right my whole body gets really tight and a feeling of mortal dread over takes my body it becomes very difficult to breath and I also see a demonic face start to appear centered in my field of vision.

When I pull away from the edge back into the lane the face starts to fade my body unlocks itself and I can breath again. This yoyo goes on for a few minutes. Till I eventually lose control and drive off the edge.

I immediately get snapped awake and I am unable to breath at all and it feels like a two ton gorilla has his hands wrapped around my neck. I'm flailing around for like 5 or 6 seconds and it just stops as fast as it started.

Im barely aware of anything going on at this point I was still 90% asleep but had gallon of adrenaline in my system so im super out of it but flipping the fuck out.

A minute or so passes and I start to calm down thinking that was a hell of a case of sleep paralysis or something. Its like 7 or 8 am at this point so theres a little sun coming though the window but for the most part its pretty dark. So I starting to calm down and then suddenly I notice I can see my breath and I am *fucking freezing* and suddenly all the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.

We had a 30 pack of mountain dew still mostly full sitting on the other side of the room in the center of a card table. It had like 2-3 feet of space on all sides. No risk of falling off the table at all. Unless something else moved it

Right as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up I felt compelled to look at that 30 pack on the table and it just flew right off the table.

I nope'd out of there so goddamned fast it wasnt even funny. Using the expression literally. Feeling like the devil was at my heels. To my terror everyone was asleep. So I just booked it upstairs to my friends room and just collapsed back to sleep right on the floor. No blankets no pillows nothing just lay on the wood floor and conk out terrified.

When we all woke up I told all of them what happened. We go downstairs and sure enough the box of mountain dew fell off the table and cans were scattered everywhere.

They all to this day make fun of me about this and call it the mountain dew ghost. I still have no explanation as to what happened.

Username: errorsniper

First, let me explain how my house is orientated. In my house, all our rooms on the first floor are in a line, with the very first room you enter being our kitchen. So, in order to exit or enter the house, you had to go through the kitchen.

Additionally, our refrigerator is located right next to the door as well as our cereal. It was also winter time and my room has no insulation so it gets pretty cold in the winter. To top it off, there was a snowstorm going on so it was especially cold and windy.

Now to the story. I woke up around 4 AM due to the cold, turned on the electrical heater in my room and tried to go back to sleep.

I couldn't so I got up at 4:30ish and sleepily stumbled downstairs to eat some cereal, hoping I could fall asleep after I ate. As soon as I turned the corner into my kitchen, I saw that the outside light by the door was on.

I thought it was odd at first, but reasoned that the snowing must have triggered the motion sensor. As I went further into the kitchen to get my Apple Jacks, I got a better view through our glass door.

There was a man in a red jacket just standing outside the door. I remember how my tiredness instantly transitioned into fear as soon as I saw him.

There was no car in our driveway, which means he walked here by himself. In the middle of a fucking snowstorm. Standing in a foot to a foot-and-a-half of snow. Completely motionless.

After I thought "Holy shit, there's a psychotic person stalking us outside our house," I realized that not only could I see him, but he also could see me. In fact, he DID see me. Before I could dart to the side of the door, he started knocking.

I froze, thinking how I needed to run and get a weapon but foolishly hoped that he didn't see me and would soon leave. So I just hid right next to the door, out of sight.

Then he started opening our screen door and started banging. Naturally, my thought process went from "holy shit, this guy is absolutely psycho" to "this guy is going to murder my entire family".

I grabbed an archery arrow that I had outfitted with one of those tri-razor blade tips and readied my stance to skewer this guy with just this one arrow and whatever force I could muster from my skinny ass arms.

But...he never did anything else. I remember standing there in my ready-to-skewer pose for what felt like an eternity before he left. Later that morning, I told my folks about him, and they told me it was the guy who usually comes and asks to shovel our driveway.

He came back later that afternoon and he asked to shovel our driveway and so he did. I tipped him a little extra, feeling bad and what not considering I was ready to skewer this guy just a few hours ago.

Username: Arun241

I have narcolepsy and something that often goes along with that is what’s called hypnogogic hallucinations.

Basically you’re sleeping then suddenly you wake up, open your eyes for no reason, and hallucinate. I’ve seen some really freaky shit, so it’s hard to pick the scariest. I’ll go with top 3.

One night, senior year of HS, a buddy and i went to a party then crashed on my couches in the basement. Middle of the night I wake up to see an old lady sitting on the recliner chair, rocking back and forth, holding a baby. She turned to me and brought a finger to her lips with a “shush.”

I tried to wake my friend to see if he saw what I did, but he was a deep sleeper. A few weird moments later, she disintegrated, as if she was a puzzle and random pieces were being plucked out.

Fast forward to college, 4 years later, i was home for Christmas break to experience my last two encounters (they’ve since stopped). One night i open my eyes and saw a tall, demonic looking shadow in the corner of my room with a distinct wide grin.

By this time, i was diagnosed with narcolepsy and knew they were “just hallucinations.” So, i was really freaked out but i turned my light on, he disappeared, and tried to assure myself that i wasn’t scared.

I fell back asleep and an unknown amount of time later my eyes widened as a powerful voice like thunder shook my room, mocking, “YOU’RE NOT SCARED OF ME?”

Then, shit you not, i heard what sounded like a thunder clap *in my fucking room* and the whole room lit up like the lights had been turned on.

This wasn’t lightning outside—it started in the center of my room, expanded out, then collapsed back to the center. I basically shit myself and rushed into my parents’ room like an infant pacing back and forth.

Last time it happened, same month and location, I opened my eyes to see a lady with dark hair and pale, glowing skin. Almost like in the Ring, but she wasn’t cheesy.

She wasn’t really ugly physically but there was something... spiritually frightening about her (besides the obvious random person in my room at night). Just a look in her eyes that filled me with terror and dread. She was crawling toward me at the foot of my bed, and i sat up, kicking my feet toward her face and freaking out.

She retreated back to the corner of my room, hid behind a chair, and kept peeking her head up to stare at me with this fucked up smile.

My parents came in, turned on the lights, and she was gone. I kept the light on, went to the bathroom and came back, but i could hardly walk through my door. I knew they were supposed to be hallucinations but I’ve never really fully believed that. I haven’t had a hallucination since. Thank God.

Username: [deleted]

Ok I think I have a good one for this! My grandmother had moved into my childhood home with us, she was declining from Alzheimer's.

I had been relegated to sleeping in the den on the main floor while she took my room upstairs, pending the completion of a basement suite for her.

One night, in the middle of the night, I'm woken up by a laugh coming from the kitchen. A satanic, repeating, wicked cackling. Over and over.

Adrenaline courses through my 16ish or so year old body. The combination of sleeping in an unfamiliar spot, and the suddenness of being woken up with such a strange and evil sounding noise that I've never heard before.... It was more terrifying than it should have been.

I'm panicking, and I'm sure as hell not going to see what the hell is making this noise. Our cordless phone system had multiple phones, one base with me in the den, and one in, thank God, my sister's room. So I dial our house number, then hang up, to do that thing that makes your own phone ring.

My sister picks up.
"Do you fucking hear that??"
My sister replies, mostly as shaken as me, that she does.
"What the fuck is it???"
"I don't know!!"
"Jesus Christ"

Now there was a moment where we thought it might have been our grandmother, losing her last marble, laughing maniacally in the kitchen. At 3 AM. But we decided against that.

In what was not my proudest moment, I basically tell my older sister that no fucking way am I going out there, so she better come down to check it out.

Somehow, while I wallow in fear and shame for sending my sister to what I now expect is some kind of demon, she musters up the courage to go down the stairs, to the kitchen, to check it out.

I go out slowly to the kitchen, once I can tell from the footstep sounds that she will definitely be eaten first.

She turns on the light..... And there is red alarm clock dead center of the glass kitchen table.... It is a red Satan cow....a cow with horns. And it's laughing. Again, and again, and again.

"What the fuck. Is that yours?"
"I've never seen it before in my life"

To this day, no one knows where it came from. My grandmother was not lucid enough to confirm it deny it was hers. We assume it was, but how it got on the kitchen table and set to go off at 3 AM, we'll never know.

Sometimes we think Grandma, in one last moment of clarity, decided to have a bit of fun with her grandkids..... She wasn't the type, but she also wasn't the type to point and laugh openly at fat people which the Alzheimer's brought out in her.

I'll never, ever forget that night. It comes up every now and then between me and my sister. And no, she hasn't forgotten that I made her go first.

Username: [deleted]

My family would go to my rich aunt and uncle’s place during the last three major holidays of the year. They liked to host because they had about 22 acres of land and a mansion that could accommodate everyone.

My uncle was the President of his own company, and his parents were the inventors and owners of Kern’s Nectar Drinks (before being bought out by another company from Mexico)... So money was where he came from and what he made on his own.

So every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years, we went to their huge house and had a blast.

One Christmas, all my cousins got tents for a camping trip that was coming up, and we decided to camp in them that night. We pitched the tents, told spooky stories, and eventually fell asleep.

In the early hours of the morning, when the sun is just on the other side of the horizon, when everything is still a dark blue and light is only beginning to touch the sky, I woke up to the sound of a deep, deep growl and a crying, desperate infant.

My littlest cousin had always shared a room with her older brother up until that point, and hadn’t been able to fall asleep inside while he was in the tent. So, at some point, she had decided to sneak out of the house to come sleep in the tent with her brother.

But coyotes had intercepted this lone 4 year old between her and the tents, which were pitched about 3 acres from the house.

My cousins and I all woke up as soon as we heard the yelping and the screaming, and we threw open the tents and stepped out to find my cousin being bitten and shaken by 4 coyotes.

They weren’t all setting on her at once, but when we got the flashlights settled on them, we saw one had her arm and the other had her torso.

We ran in like crazy people, screaming for help from any adult that may be able to hear us that far out, and yelling at the coyotes to let go.

They didn’t let go. They started dragging her away, but not before her brother and I, and about 8 other very pissed off boys caught up and started beating the ever living shit out of these coyotes.
We killed one, maimed another (which my uncle killed later), and the other two got away.

My cousin was taken to the hospital and had to be stitched up. She suffered scarring on her torso that she still has, as well as a few bites to the face and neck. She has puncture wound scars on her face, and a few on her hands.

She doesn’t remember it, which isn’t surprising. She nearly died from blood loss on the way to the hospital, but she didn’t. She lived and grew into a really strong woman. Scariest Christmas ever.

Username: Atlas_Black

During the breakup with my ex-wife before our divorce, I was staying at my father's place. He lived in an old farmhouse out in the middle of BFE with my stepmother and my stepbrother. Now this place was old, mid 1880's according to the deed search.

There was only one bedroom down stairs where my dad and and stepmother slept, and the entire upper floor was a huge open loft space divided in the middle by the narrow stairway. I slept on one side and my stepbrother slept on the other.

Now, I'm a very light sleeper, averaging only about five hours a night anyway. My stepbrother who was about ten at the time is autistic, and sometimes has violent outbursts, so the meds he takes at night pretty much put him down like an elephant tranquilizer.

It was sometime around the end of July, and I was working second shift, so when I came in I just crashed.

Shortly after falling asleep I noticed a humming noise. I sat up in bed but couldn't place it, so I just figured it was the security light on the side of the house about to burn out.

As soon as I lay back down- BAM!- it felt like someone had run a red hot needle into my back. Reaching around to massage the area I felt something furiously buzzing under my cupped hand. Then it stung my thumb.

I leapt out of bed and as I strode over to the overhead light switch the humming grew louder and things kept smacking into my body. Flipping on the switch I was stunned to see hundreds of red wasps flying around the room, and hundreds more on the ceiling over my stepbrother's bed.

I ran over and snatched him out of bed, getting stung about a dozen more times in the process, and ran down the stairs with him.

By this time my dad was up and waiting at the foot of the stairs. I had to run to the kitchen and take a couple of benadryl, (I'm allergic to wasp stings, think Will Smith in Hitch with the shrimp.).

I explained to my dad what was going on, and he ran out to the barn and got a box of bug bombs and tossed them up the stairs, and closed off the stairwell door.

The next morning we went up and there were dead wasps everywhere. We vacuumed them up in a small shop-vac, and wound up with almost a gallon of little demon-red bodies.

The best we could figure was they had gotten into the narrow utility race that runs just below the peak of the roofline, and eventually gnawed their way through.

The kicker though? My stepbrother slept through everything and woke up pissed and confused because he wasn't in his bed.

Username: halfbreed69

Waaay late to the party here... Idk if this counts as I'm still not sure if my experience was a dream or not, but here goes.

I was 11 and shared a room with my 10 year old brother. It was mid summer and we were too poor for AC, so the window behind the head of my bed was open. I'm suddenly woken by flashing lights flooding in the window. I look at the clock and it's 3:30.

Out my window I see what seems to be a utility vehicle or tow truck behind my neighbor's place in the alley with their lights flashing. Pretty late/early for all that, I think and go to lay back down.

That's when I hear someone walking up the stairs. We kept our bedroom door open at night and our room is just at the top of the stairs, so I crawl to the edge of my bed to see who's coming upstairs. I catch a glimpse of a short thin man just as his shoulders are above the top step. This was NOT someone I recognized!

I quickly lay back and throw my covers over my head. I peek out at my brother in his bed a few feet away and try to say his name, but nothing comes out. I can hear the stranger walk into our room.

Our floorboards were not discrete. After a second I'm pretty damn sure he's standing between our beds, but I was still covering my head.

I peek out. And there he is standing over me. This short young looking man with blonde curly hair looks down at me with what seemed to be a curious smirk.

Again I try to scream, but my mouth is just open and nothing happens with my voice. That's when he reached his hand out as if to say come with me, though he never said a word. I reached out and took his and and then...

I wake up. I look at the clock and it says it's 5:45am. There's no sign of this strange man, but I remembered the preceeding events like it just happened. Just like that.

My 11 year old head couldn't wrap itself around what I just witnessed. (I'm not even sure my 36 year old head could either. )

I ran to my parents room in hysterics trying to explain to their still waking selves what just happened to me. They said it was a dream and later I found out my mom was a bit concerned with my sanity because of it.

It took me a few years to be able to fall asleep comfortably on a regular basis. Over time I chalked it up to prepubescent imagination, but I'll always wonder what the hell was really going on that night.

Username: joshgeek

I found my mum's body when I was 8. My mum had been ill all my life, and as a result I used to share a room with her, as weird as it sounds now as an adult, I was so terrified of sleeping alone because I was scared of waking up without her.

Of course, now logic teaches me how really fucked up I would have been if she'd died next to me.

I woke up around 4am and she wasn't in bed - she used to smoke though, even towards the end when she was really really ill so I didn't worry too much just called out for a drink because I was thirsty. I didn't get an answer though and the hallway outside the door was pitch black so I just kept calling.

Eventually, and looking back I think I knew something was wrong way before I got to the bottom of the stairs, I went downstairs.

Now, exactly 16 years later (to the day, weirdly enough), I can still remember the way the television reflected off of the walls at the bottom of the stairs, that was how I saw her feet on the floor sticking out from around the corner of the sofa.

I was eight years old and she was stone cold, she must have been dead for hours. I can remember just sitting there and crying for ages and then I got up and called my nanny and grandad.

It must have been heartbreaking for them to have their grandchild tell them that their daughter was dead.

I walked outside in the pitch black, wearing my vest and weirdly my school skirt (I have no idea why, I think towards the end my mum just gave up trying to stop me doing things and let me have my own way, so I'm sure I'd wanted to wear it to bed on a Sunday night!) and tried to find an adult to help.

But, and the thing that annoys me so so so much to this day is that no one would answer their doors to a crying eight year old girl in the early hours of the morning.

Eventually someone did, and they stayed with me until my grandad came. But, a few years later one of my mums supposed friends, the first person I'd gone to and tried to get to answer the door, told me that she'd heard me but she was tired and thought it was too early to open the door. Who does that? I mean, seriously?

Anyway, the postmortem found my mum had taken an overdose of the medication she was on.

I don't know whether it was intentional, I hope not, but when you're in pain and close to the end maybe it all becomes too much? Who knows. But I guess I'd understand that.

Username: ComradeH

Ooh I've got a couple! The first that come to mind are all from growing up in an abusive household so those aren't something I want to go further in to.

Story 1! One night my partner and I are fast asleep when I wake up to mad scratching noises, a loud boom, a face full of hair and pain and my other half screaming/crying.

Right away I realize my dumb orange cat fell out of the window and am about to laugh it off when she says "oh my God my eye!" So I bolt upright and turn the light on and her face is COVERED in blood and tears all mixed together and what looks like little wet blobby chunks.

I get her to move her hand away while she's hyperventilating and we're both freaking out thinking the cat scratched into her eyeball.

We get her cleaned up and to the hospital and it turns out the blobs were fat and skin. The cat had scratched deep all the way across her eyebrow, upper eyelid , and the fleshy space between them when she fell. Her eyeball was fine but she got 16 stitches and had one hell of a black eye.

Story 2! I am an old hotrod guy. I've had my primary car since I was 19 years old and she's been where all my blood sweat and tears went for most of my adult life. When I met my other half I told her she needed to get used to being the other woman.

So my club and I go out to a pretty great weekend long show. It was a blast and one of them crashes on my couch after a couple beers.

Just after I pass out he comes running into my room freaking out. "Someone stole our cars! I went out to get my smokes and saw my tail lights disappear around the corner!"

I am up and on my feet with my pistol in my hand about to run out the door in my boxer shorts when a guy I work with walks in my front door. This fella doesn't know where I live... So I think I'm having some kind of nightmare.

I'm confused and don't know what's going on when he grabs me by the arm and says "evidently my buddy is your neighbor. I just saw some guys pushing your car down the street.

They are just around the corner. I recognized it was yours." And we're out the door. I'm running barefoot down the road, balls out, half awake, ready to kill somebody...

I round the corner and there's the rest of my car club sitting around, on, and in my car with lit cigars yelling APRIL FOOLS!

Mother fuckers had the whole thing planned out for weeks! It was just weird happenstance that my co-worker saw them pushing my car down the road, giggling like idiots.

Username: BaronVonBooplesnoot

So I live in a pretty quiet neighborhood. Everyone's nice and you'll see people out and about during the day and say hi to each other as you pass. We were still pretty new to the area at the time. We'd probably only been there about a month or so. I was about 17 at the time. Anyway I was up at about 3 or 4 one morning.

It was a hot and humid night and my room is in the basement, but the cold air from the ac mostly stays upstairs. Since it was so hot I was only in briefs at the time. I Decided I needed to go to use the bathroom and get something to eat. Went upstairs and and used the bathroom by the kitchen and then walked across the hall to the pantry.

I grabbed the last of the hot fudge sundae poptarts, (which were my sisters) and put a strawberry one back in the box empty box cause I'm evil. As I'm walking back through the kitchen to go downstairs I hear this tapping/knocking from the sliding glass door.

The door connects to our deck which has a set of stairs to the backyard. We also were a house on the corner so the whole left half of the yard runs along the street. So I hear this knocking and for some reason immediately thought it was one of my parents.

I go to unlock the door thinking it was weird they were outside when the door was still locked. As I'm about to unlock the latch I realised something seemed kinda off. So I turn on the porch light and some random fucking dude is leaning against the door bleeding from his head and down his face! My heart basically fell out of my ass when I saw him.

I sprinted upstairs and woke up my dad, then sprinted back downstairs, got dressed on 2 seconds flat, and met my dad back in the kitchen. We decided to see if we could help him out since he looked like he was probably in an accident or something.

As he unlocks the door we both look at each other and know that if shit hits the fan we're taking this motherfucker down. We open up the door and ask him what's going on. The dude rambled something I didn't quite catch. He looked to be about mid 20's or so and had a leather jacket on. We talk to him for a bit and realised he had wiped the fuck out on his motorcycle.

We figured he had a concussion at first. But turns out he'd been drinking. So we start cleaning him up. My mom and sister are at the stairs just watching at this point. They go outside to find where he crashed. His shoe, wallet, bike and a bottle of jack daniels were all out there along with some poor guy in a truck who saw the wrecked bike and stopped thinking he was about to find a body.

Once my dad and I realised he wasn't a threat I went out to help them get all his stuff. We told the guy in the truck what happened while he helped us bring the bike up to the front of the house.

We all noticed that the bike looked fairly new, aside from the obvious damage. Turns out it only had about 100 miles on it. Se told the guy that everything was alright and we had everything taken care of.

So he reluctantly goes back to his truck, after makong absolute sure we were fine, and goes on his way. We head back inside and my dad has him mostly cleaned up by now. He kept rambling on about his shoe so I bring it over and put on for him.

My mom has called the police and told them what happened. Well my older siblings have done this type of shit before, though not to this extreme, so my dad decides that maybe it'd be best if we just play good samaritan and bring him home. Save the guy some trouble for 1 stupid night.

And I know about how he probably deserved it for being so careless, but we just had too much pity for the dude.Somehow he managed to get the guys address out of him. So the 3 of us, the dude, my dad, and I, get into the car and start headong towards his house.

I've got his address pulled up on google maps and about 15 minutes later we get to his house. He unlocks the door and stumbles inside. We waited outside for about 10 minutes to see if anyone came out, but nothing happened so we awkwardly were like "so... I guess that's that?"

By the time we got back hime the cops had already come and gone, though they were kinda mad that we took they guy home. After we all went back inside and let the whole thing set in. We decided no one could sleep so I think my sister started baking cookies at like 4:30-5 in the morning.

A little later we all decided to go back to bed. I went downstairs and shutdown my pc and realised I still had the poptart. That was was the best fucking poptart I'd ever had.

Username: TheVENNOM1

I was trying hard to sleep one night and was just tossing and turning, fading in and out of sleep, but not settling. It dawned on me at some point that I had left the sprinkler on in the front yard and this is why my mind wouldn’t give in.

I lived in a house in an urban area that had some property crime issues so as a young female living alone, I had a house alarm I turned on at night. I picked up my keys to disarm it and carried them outside with me. It was about 2am.

I walked out the front door onto the patio and started down the stairs. I got about two steps down the stairs and I realized there was someone behind me on my patio chair. I had just walked past a person on my porch and that person was now between me and the house.

I panicked. Screamed “OH MY GOD.” And ran back inside the house as fast as I could, not even looking at the person. I remember confirming as I ran that it was indeed a person, but nothing else about the person registered including what they were doing.

As I lock myself back in the house I feel a tiny sense of relief until I realize I dropped the keys when I panicked which means the person on my porch now has a way in the house.

I run into my room and grab my phone. I’m on the phone with 911 and the dispatcher is asking me if I can see if they are still there. I crawl across the floor and peer out the window as my heart beats out of my chest. They are and I can’t see my keys. I don’t even know where I dropped them.

The dispatcher tells me to stay calm, but I literally cannot calm myself down and I feel trapped in my house. She tells me cops will be there soon, but gets off the line. I called my best friend that lived a few blocks away and he got in his car to come over. Before he got there, I see two cop cars going up and down the street, but not stopping. They can’t seem to find the right house.

I finally lost it and ran to the back of the house, opened the back door, ran down the driveway right past the porch person (again) and ran after the cop car screaming and waving my arms. Just then, my friend showed up as well.

My friend stayed with me while the cops went to the porch. I watched from across the street as they approached the man, he jumped up, they scuffled a little, and then they cuffed him and talked to him for a few minutes.

They eventually walked him over to us and put him in a car, but only after telling him multiple times that it would be easier if he just told them his name. Roughing him up a little as they patted him down multiple times.

Turns out he was a drunk college kid who just needed a place to sit down after getting lost on the train. The last place he said he remembered being was a town about 10 miles away. He was asleep and the police startled him. He didn’t even know his name.

The police leave and we go look for my keys and sit on the porch for a minute so I can calm down. His wallet and phone are sitting right on the chair the cops picked him up from plain as day.

I never worried much about living alone before that night, but after that I worried about it all the time.

Username: somecoolgal

I have pretty frequent sleep paralysis (A bad month means maybe once or twice a week, a good month maybe none at all), and occasionally I'll hallucinate demons and shit during the episodes.

It's pretty much always the same shit, like a sort of formless 'blob' of blackness appearing in the room that just radiates pure evil and intent to harm.

It's kind of hard to explain just how threatening it feels until you've experienced it yourself, being locked in your body and in the same room with something alien that just wants to fuck you up in every way conceivable (even when you know it's not real).

I remember a couple hallucinations in particular that were just incredibly vivid and convincing. Once, I was sleeping in front of the TV, lying on the couch.

I woke up to see a shadow of a figure standing directly in front of the TV, which seemed to be playing nothing but static (probably my half-asleep mind not able to process whatever was actually happening onscreen).

The thing just STOOD there, and I felt like if it really wanted to, it could just reach out and touch me. If I wasn't already literally paralyzed I probably would have been, just from the feeling that hallucination gave me. As I phased out of the paralysis it kind of just melted away into the corner, and the second I was fully awake again the feeling of otherworly 'evil' faded away with the shadow figure.

It was just such an intense experience, though, that I just stared at that corner of the room for a minute expecting it to come back the way it came.

Another time (just recently actually), I hallucinated something similar on the ceiling just above me, except this time it had more like... detail?

Not actual detail, it was like my mind was filling in the blanks for me and giving it like long flowing hair, some kind of floaty cloak, basic horror movie shit like that.

At this point I'm pretty used to sleep paralysis so I immediately knew it wasn't real, but that didn't dissuade it from saying something like "I FOUND you!" right in my ear before I woke up. The voices and noises you hallucinate can be weirdly more convincing than the visuals your mind can conjure up!

I remember chills running up and down every which way all over my body, and then I snapped back to reality and all was normal. Another time years earlier I hallucinated a flying, screaming head flying across my room and smashing into the wall??

Sleep paralysis is just a freaky experience, man. I dunno why my brain can't just use kittens and rainbows and shit instead of goddamn shadow demons.

Username: flanjoe

I left work one night around 7pm and went and picked up my son from the babysitter. I didn't arrive home until 8:30pm. I live in the country side, but chose to work in the city. The drive is about 45 minutes or so depending on traffic. By the time I get my son, get dinner and get home I've been in the car about 1 1/2 hours.

Anyways I pulled up my driveway and noticed something odd. The doors on my storage shed were wide open. I told my son to sit in the car as I got out to investigate.

I didn't see anything missing and closed the doors back. I know the wind had not blown them open because it has two latches you have to open in order to get it open.

The next day I looked around and much to my dismay two weed eaters along with a few other garden tools were missing. I know I should have contacted the police, but I knew there wasn't much they could do at this point.

Throughout the week I had some time off and decided to tackle some yard work that I needed to get done which included cutting down a small sized tree that had grew next to my house. Once I cut it down it took everything I had to move it to the edge of my property.

Fast forward to the next Friday night I left work at 7pm, picked up my son and we arrived home at 8:30pm. As I pulled in the driveway my son and I noticed something laying across the driveway.

It looked as if a tree branch had fallen across my driveway. As I drove up to it I realized there were no trees over my driveway.

Once I looked towards the base of the tree my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. It was the tree I had cut down. I had put it clear on the other side of my property until I could cut it up. My house is surrounded by woods and no close neighbors.

I recognized the marking from my chainsaw. I didn't know what to do. Getting out of the car was not an option. I've watched enough horror movies to know that.

My son and I set there in silence for at least five minutes. I rolled the driver and passenger window down just an inch and listened to hear if anyone was out there. I heard nothing out there.

I then realized in order for me to get to my house I would have to move the tree. This meant I would have to get out of the car. I told my son I was going to get out and move it just enough so we could get passed and I would lock the doors. If anything happens he could use my phone to call the neighbor who lived the closest.

I darted out of my car and moved the tree slightly and raced back to the car. I was terrified. I got in my car and we raced up towards my house. I didn't sleep that night. The next day I woke up to find the tree was moved again.

This time. A few feet behind my car. To this day I am still baffled at who could have done this. Or what their intentions were. Next time I will be smarter and call the police

Username: synergy201786

When I was in the beginning of my first year in college, a random person I'd never seen before walked in my dorm room in the middle of the night while I was browsing Reddit.

I'd say he scared me... But I'm not so sure I was afraid. My roommate had gone away for the weekend and I knew he wasn't going to be back till the following Monday, so when i heard someone opening my door, I had a mini-heart attack.

He walked in the room, turned on the light and looked my in the eye. Like super strong eye-contact. He was this tall Scandanavian-looking kid with a tiger tattoo going down his right shoulder blade.

So after staring each other down for what seemed like, idk, 5 or 6 seconds, the Swedish Tiger turned his attention to my roommates combo desk/bunkbed.

He tried to climb the ladder into my roommates bed, failed to climb the ladder to said roommates bed, and then he put a bunch of pencils and an unopened condom into our printer. I don't know where he got the unopened condom.

I'd say he brought it, but he was in his boxers, and I don't think they had pockets. He eventually gives up pencil-fucking our printer, looks at me one last time, and walks back out. He turned the light off, which was pretty cool. I didn't say anything to him because I wasnt really sure what was happening.

I didn't feel threatened or anything, but I was really confused. For a minute after he left I wondered if it even really happened. I talked to my friends about it, and they said I sounded insane. It started to eat at me.

I didn't know who this kid was and nobody knew of a lanky Scandanavian kid with a tiger tattoo. Granted, I didn't know many people at the time. Fast-forward a couple weeks, I finally see this guy in my intro psych class. It is %100 the Swedish Tiger.

Don't know how I'd never seen him before, maybe he transferred in, signed up late, or I just didn't see him in the class of ~150 students, but in any scenario, there he was.

Class ends and I walk up to him as the lecture hall files out. I ask him if he remembers walking into my room in the middle of the night a couple weeks back.

He looks at me rather incredulously and says he has no recollection of that. I ask him if he has a tiger tattoo down his shoulder blade. He was wearing a flannel at the time, so the tattoo was not in any way.

This caught his attention. Suddenly he remembers that he blacked out a couple weeks ago and it turns out we actually live in the same building. Evidently he got turned around somewhere and ended up on a different floor than his own.

Not sure how he did it, but he apologized and was cool about it. I said not to worry, I was just super happy that it was real. So yeah, less frightened and more deeply afraid of my possibly damaged perception of reality for a couple weeks.

Username: mrpoopynoobnoob