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I'm a writer living in St. Petersburg, Florida. I was raised in rural Maryland, a stone's throw from Baltimore City.

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True Stories sent to Unit522

 The following is a collection of three truthful scary stories. I sent each of these to YouTuber Unit522 who is a prolific and successful narrator. 


Floating Half-Person with Claws

 

            This story was told to my husband and I by a cashier at our local supermarket. She is a true believer in the paranormal since this event, so I know she wouldn’t mind us sharing her story to the best of our recollection.

            Our cashier was staying over at a friend’s house on their sofa. It was a normal night and she had no incidents of paranormal events or sleep paralysis before this happened to her, though she admitted feeling a sense of dread towards the end of the night.

            She woke up in her friend’s living room and she couldn’t move. Up in the corner of the room was a floating, black figure looking directly at her. The figure wasn’t a full person-shaped figure, as it hovered, it only had a head, arms, and a torso. It felt evil from the moment she saw it.

            The floating, bisected being then moved closer to her, and stuck its claw into her chest, as if itself wasn’t fully solid. The being then began to slowly massage her heart. She was unable to move from fear or from something else. She said it felt nice, but it still scared her terribly. Then, without warning, with its other hand, the floating thing reached out and scratched her across the chest, like something a cat would do, but instead this was a large, deep wound.

            She screamed and it woke up her friend. The friend rushed in, turned on the lights, and the thing was gone. The woman could move again and they both went into the bathroom. The two of them looked at her chest in the bathroom mirror, and there was a deep scratch across her front. The friend disinfected and bandaged the wound. Reluctantly she lay back down in the living room and the friend returned to bed also.

            Eventually, she fell back asleep. The next morning, the scratch was completely gone from her chest. Not only that, but the bandage was completely missing too. So, was it just a very bad dream, case of sleep paralysis, or some combination of the two? One might think that, but her friend remembered the incident too, what little she witnessed, including bandaging up the deep, bleeding scratch. Ever since this event, our very lovely and forthcoming cashier has believed in the paranormal and evil entities.

 


The Silver Ribbon in the Desert

 

              We enjoy stories of the paranormal, true or fictional horror, and the Missing 411 or those of similar, unexplainable events. Although we visit a lot of National Parks, as they are both beautiful and mysterious, we don’t go looking to become the subject of one of those unexplainable events ourselves. Having been on some of the trails where people have gone missing or in the areas where the unexplainable has happened, but to have it feel completely normal while we were visiting, has only deepened our appreciation for such stories and their related eeriness or uncanniness.

               In addition, where we live isn’t a place where you can see many stars, if any, on clear nights due to the large cityscape that envelops most of coastal Florida. Due to this, we were very excited to go to Death Valley National Park in California and to stay inside the park so that at night, we could see the vast collection of stars in the sky.

               Where we were staying in the park was very nice, but we couldn’t just walk out of our room and look up and see a bright, starry sky, because of the abundant outdoor lighting at the park hotel. Therefore, we carefully drove over to Zabriskie Point to view the stars in all of their glory.

               The sky was amazing and the stars were magnificent. The vision of that sky was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. We did see a man walking in the darkness, coming down from the overlook at the point, but he soon left. We spent over an hour stargazing in relative solitude.

               During our time looking up and marveling at the constellations, we were visited by some bats eating mosquitoes. It was really cool how they flew so close to us, nearly invisible, and then how they continued on their way, up and away from us.

We also saw a few obvious cars driving down the road, airplanes in the sky, and what was probably a helicopter. Everything was normal and although we felt the magnitude of the universe above us weighing heavily on our own sense of vulnerable mortality, we didn’t expect to see anything strange in the sky or otherwise.

It was getting late and we decided to head back to the room, so we could get an early start hiking the next day. We climbed back into the rental car and turned towards the way we came. There was no one on the road at this time. We had only seen three or four cars the entire time we had been stargazing, and the airplanes had been obvious and sparse during this time also. As we drove, there were no airplanes or helicopters in the sky. All we saw was the road, our pair of headlights, and darkness in the desert beyond.

Then, without warning, this blazing silver light shimmered in the desert off to the right of the truck. It was there for maybe three seconds, moving away from us, and then disappeared.

When it appeared, it was outside of the range of our headlights and it wasn’t a person or a flashlight. This was an empty part of the desert, far from campgrounds and not very close to the parking lot we had left from, or any trails. We weren’t the cause of illumination of this brief, shimmering, silver light. It was practically on the ground as it disappeared.

There were no street signs or anything our headlights could have bounced off of to create this ribbon like effect of movement and disappearance. There was no one driving behind us nor coming towards us. The road was empty.

The silvery object or whatever it was, had to be the cause of its own illumination.

For a split second, I thought I hallucinated, but then my husband said, “Did you see that?”

We quickly confirmed we had seen the same strange occurrence.

There are some possibilities of what it could have been, like maybe a balloon someone had released in the desert or some kind of very strange, disappearing drone that flew only inches from the desert floor. It could have been a hiker with a really weird light and strange, quick movements, but none of these explanations seem possible or likely.

We drove the same stretch the next day and found where we saw the weird, silver ribbon of light and found nothing. There wasn’t even really a shoulder to pull over on. It was empty, basic desert, with no road signs either there or on the other side that our headlights could have reflected off of.

This event has stuck with me since our visit as an unexplainable phenomenon to the best of our knowledge. Maybe it points to the existence of something more, whether that be paranormal or scientific or maybe it was just nothing.

 


Almost Mugged or Taken by Strangers

 

               When I was eighteen, I moved 1200 miles away from my hometown to attend an out-of-state discounted college. I moved so far away from home for financial reasons and to break away from my less than good family. The college was located in a cute, little tourist town known for history, nightlife, and a vast cultural intersection. It was a small city full of life.

               I wasn’t great at making friends and my new roommates in the dorms were terrible people. Two of them ganged up on me while the third remained neutral. I decided I better go out and find some friends at the school and to break away from these mean girls by finding a social group.

               I should have gone to the library or to other quiet places, but instead I started attending college mixers and events. This was a huge error in judgement on my part, as I went into school with so much hope for the future, but it was immediately dashed by being roomed with three major buttheads.

               One Friday, I went to a table tennis tournament at a local bar put on by the student body. This bar always had college nights and freshmen events.

               I was too young to drink and I was somewhat social with those in the bar. It didn’t go anywhere and I was bored. I decided to make the quick ten-minute walk back to campus and to the dorms for an early bedtime.

               I headed down a dark street, paved with bricks, with a lot of laurel oaks along the sidewalk that had branches that hung over the street. This part of town was where a lot of bed and breakfasts and historic homes were located, each with thick foliage and old growth landscaping. I passed an old cemetery where most of those buried there died of yellow fever.

               Much has changed in the city since I lived there and it’s considerably more built up and brighter now. However, when I was a new resident to this part of the county, much of the area just outside of the school and cute downtown was rundown and economically depressed.

               I didn’t think much of the pickup truck slowly traveling down the road behind me as I walked back towards the school. It was a warm fall night and all I had on was a tee and pants. I had a purse with my wallet and my old Nokia-brick cell phone.

               I had heard of traveling in groups, but felt so close to the school that it really wasn’t a problem.

               Eventually the truck pulled onto a side street and immediately parked at the stop sign. Two men hopped out and began calling me over to them.

               They weren’t all that old, maybe in their late 20’s to late 30’s. They looked average, with long, tee shirts and baggy shorts.

               “Hey girl,” one said, “You need a ride?”

               “No thanks,” I answered, and continued walking.

               “No girl, you need a ride. Why not come along with me?” the one said again. He smiled wide.

               His companion just eyed me up and down, shrugged, and crossed his arms expectantly.

               The first one kept his big fake smile, and stared at me.

               Sheepishly, I said, “No thanks, I like walking.”

               “We’ll walk with you then,” said one of them.

               “Yeah, no thanks,” I said, getting annoyed.

               I was maybe six or seven feet from them when we started interacting, but they closed the gap to four to five feet when they offered to walk with me.

               They turned angry with me right away and began trying to guilt trip me into getting into their truck and acting like I was acting snooty. I knew I wasn’t, but I was also feeling very confused. I don’t remember exactly what they said when they switched tactics, but it was a lot of: “she thinks she’s too good for us” and that kind of thing.

               I was not dressed particularly nice. I have never done the girl thing well and I was more of a tomboy than I realized.

               Finally, after they followed me for a block, trying to get a rise out of me, talking trash and throwing strange insults, some other part of my brain reacted and I decided to fight crazy with crazy. If they weren’t going to make sense, then I wouldn’t either. I had come from a place where my family would gaslight and be abusive in ways that would surprise and shock many.

               I opened my purse and pulled out my old brick of a cell phone. In my most unhinged voice, I said loudly, “Oh, excuse me gentlemen, I have a phone call” and I quickly dialed my best friend who was living in Pittsburg at the time.

               I didn’t even explain to her what was going on and she was pretty mad about it at the time, but even if she hung up on me, I knew I would keep talking.

               Then, to add to my own display of flagrant, “Trust me, you don’t want any of this crazy,” I moved away from them and began to walk down the center of the brick street.

               I walked and talked to my friend about all sorts of stupid things, talked about the bar and my hellish roommates, told her she should come down here and take care of them, and went on and on, purposefully changing my voice around to sound erratic. At one point I started laughing loudly at literally nothing.

               My out of state friend was pissed, but the two dudes who were following me didn’t have a clue.

               I described the truck the men drove up in and what they were wearing too, not that she cared or really had any idea what was going on. Finally, I saw the towers of my school and the men’s dormitory only a block and a half away.

               One of the men tried to block my way on the road, but I slipped around him easily with my crazy-energy apparent.

               For the first time since I got on the phone, I looked at both men and shushed them, saying something to the effect of “this is a private conversation,” when they had been talking quietly to themselves, still walking in pace with me.

               Then I added, “Can you even find your truck? I don’t remember where you all parked. Do you?” in a patronizing voice, laced with extra erratic syllables.

               The one dude said softly to the other, “Come on man, let’s go,” and they turned around.

               I know a lot of people would say I’m the bad person here and that they were just looking out for my safety, and I took it too far, exaggerating in my response and I shouldn’t have harassed them like I did.

               However, I know they were trying to get me into their truck because they said so in no uncertain terms. The smiling one was clearly showing a fake smile, as his mouth was curved but his eyes were frowning. From experience, I know I looked like an easy target for robbery or something else.

They challenged my ethics and tried to make me mad by insulting me and trying to confuse me into submission. If they just wanted to walk me home in a sweet and nice way, they would have been sweet and nice, not so insistent nor would they have gotten so agitated so easily or tried the gaslighting, confusion tactic. If they were so offended that I didn’t take them up on their offer, they would have left me much sooner.

               I slipped into the men’s dormitory parking lot and cut across campus through buildings to keep out of sight in case they were to drive by. I made it to my dorm without incident.

               I apologized profusely to my friend on the phone for making her witness my insanity display and she accepted my apology, but asked that I not do it again and dial my voicemail or something else next time.

               To this day if anyone talks to me in a weird way, or gives me bad vibes, instead of ignoring them, I do the elongated syllables and over-pronunciation of words in my reply to repel them. If they laugh, my initial reaction to them isn’t warranted, but if they don’t, then my suspicions are usually correct and they are either out to ruin my day or do something far, far worse.

 

If Unit522 uses any of these stories in a video, I will embed and link the video on this page. 




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About Me

               My biggest inspiration for writing is David Sedaris. I listened to his 2004 essay collection: “Dress Your Family in Corduroy ...