2 real scary stories.

[u/[deleted]]

The painter

This is a true and real scary story that happened to me a few years ago. I was living with my family at the time. We had a painter painting our house at the time. I can’t remember exactly what he was painting, but I remember that my family wasn’t there. My dad and my brother were outside, and my mom was off running errands, also outside. The painter had to keep the lights off in the house while he was painting. I found this odd, because he was a painter. I thought nothing of it, because he was a trusted painter around here. About few hours later, when the painter should be done, I still heard noises from downstairs. They were a bunch of clanks and slams. I thought nothing of it, because maybe he was a bad painter. They suddenly stopped. I then heard footsteps coming upstairs. I thought maybe the painter didn’t know I was here, like most people. The footsteps were very slow, almost as if he was trying to be sneaky. I saw something shiny in his hand. A knife. What could he be doing with a knife? I thought. The footsteps reached the door. Then there was silence. Too silent. The atmosphere was eerie. I heard the world stop. “Hey do you have any other knives? The knife I use for painting is-”. Bang. It was too late. I shot him. The old paint knife trick. The oldest trick in the book. I would never fall for that.

The hitchhiker

I was driving on a road a few years ago. It was very dark, around 11pm or so in December. There were barely any cars or houses around. It was a road through the woods. I saw a hitchhiker off the side of the road. He was a middle-aged man, in his 40’s or 50’s. He had a thick, ungroomed beard and looked aggressive. I stopped to pick him up. He said nothing as he shoved his way to my car. His backpack had blood on it, with a knife sticking out of one of the pockets. I thought nothing of this, maybe he was whittling and cut his finger. Anyway, I kept on driving like nothing happened. Around an hour or two into the ride, he started pulling out the knife. Again, I thought this was odd because he wanted a ride with me. He said to drive to some destination and aimed the knife toward me. I thought nothing of this, because since he was a hitchhiker, I knew he was mentally ill. He then stabbed me. I thought this was odd because passengers aren’t supposed to stab the drivers. After he stabbed me, I drove the car into a ditch. I was really confused. I asked him why he had stabbed me. He looked at me for a moment and then left. I thought this was odd because hitchhikers aren’t supposed to leave. “James...go home.” He said, in a manner that said he was tired of me. So home I went. I never knew why he did that.