4 Unsettling TRUE Night Shift Horror Stories

I was 21 when this happened. It was 2017. And at the time, I was working part-time at a gas station a few towns over from where I lived.

It was one of those jobs I only planned to keep for a few months, just until I figured out what I wanted to do next.

The shifts were usually easy. A lot of ringing up snacks and cigarettes and stuff like that, more so than the occasional person paying for gas and cash.

During the day, it was annoying, but normal. The nights were different. The nights dragged.

The place felt too bright inside and too dark outside, and every customer felt a little stranger.

That night, I was working the closing shift by myself, and I still think about it all the time.

The store closed at midnight. Around 9 or 10 at night, the phone started ringing.

I answered without thinking anything of it. The second I picked up, I heard this weird voice.

It was low and drawn out, like someone trying to sound like a killer in a horror movie.

It reminded me right away of Ghost Face from Scream. It sounded really forced, like someone trying to do an impression, but yet it was still unsettling.

The voice asked if I was all alone in the store. I just stayed quiet for a second, then said something sarcastic like, “Yeah, you got me.”

And then I hung up. I figured it was one of my friends messing with me.

I texted the group chat and asked which one of them was calling the store pretending to be a serial killer.

They all found it funny and acted confused at first. One of them asked what I was talking about, then another said he was at home.

I assume they were just lying because that would have been the obvious response if they wanted to keep the prank going.

About 10 minutes later, the phone rang again. It was that same fake horror movie voice.

This time, they asked why I hung up. I once again sarcastically said, “All right, you got me.”

The voice let out this soft laugh that sounded weirdly real, not playful like I expected.

Then it said, “I shouldn’t be rude to people who know where I am.” I hung up again, but this time I felt a little off.

It was probably still a joke, but there was something about how calm the person sounded that got me.

I kept trying to shake it off. Customers were still coming in at that point, enough to keep me distracted.

People getting gas, buying beer, and getting lottery tickets, but every time it slowed down, I found myself looking at the phone.

It rang a third time around 10:40. I answered and I immediately regretted it. The voice asked if the store always got this quiet that late.

That got under my skin more than I want to admit. I said nothing and hung up.

After that, I texted my friends again, this time more seriously. I said it was getting old and asked who was doing it.

Again, they all denied it. I started messaging them one by one. It was the same thing.

One was with his girlfriends. One sent me a picture from his basement. One was apparently at a friend’s house almost half an hour away.

At that point, I started getting annoyed instead of scared. I thought maybe they had someone else doing it.

But the truth was, even though the caller never said my name, he was saying things that match what was happening in the store, like how quiet it was.

Around 11:00, the call started coming closer together. I stopped answering after the fifth one.

The phone would ring and I would stare at it and let it stop on its own.

That a minute or two later it would ring again. That went on for maybe 15 minutes.

I started checking the cameras more. There were a few around the outside of the building and a few inside.

The store sat by itself off a road that got pretty dead at night. There was a small patch of woods behind one side of the building and an alleyike area where the dumpster was.

The outside cameras weren’t great. They had blind spots and the picture at night was grainy.

Still, I kept flipping through them, half expecting to catch one of my idiot friends crouched outside laughing.

I didn’t see anyone, though. Then I started hearing little sounds outside, which at first I told myself was nothing.

For example, a tap somewhere. Then what sounded like a light scrape near the sidewall, then a noise by the back that sounded like someone stepping on loose gravel.

It got to a point where I couldn’t dismiss it any longer. I texted the group chat again and told them to seriously stop.

I even sent a picture of the empty store and wrote that this wasn’t funny anymore.

They kept denying it. One of my friends actually called me from his normal number and I told him what was happening.

He sounded genuinely confused and said he wasn’t joking, nor was he involved in any joke.

He told me to lock the door early if I had to. I didn’t want to do that unless I really felt I needed to.

Part of me still thought I was making too much of it. At around 11:40, one last customer came in.

I remember the exact sound of the door opening because it made me jump. I looked up and saw just a regular looking guy at first, maybe late 20s or 30s.

Nothing outwardly crazy about him. He wasn’t dirty or dressed weird. He just had this blank expression.

He didn’t say hello. He just walked in and started moving through the aisles. I watched him on the cameras while pretending not to.

He took way too long for someone who ended up buying one bag of chips.

He kept drifting to different aisles and then stopping. More than once, I saw the top half of his face appear above the shelves while he looked toward the counter.

Not in a casual way either. I felt like he was checking on me. I kept thinking maybe he was high or maybe he was tired or maybe he was deciding what he wanted, but my stomach had that heavy feeling by then, like my body already knew something was wrong before my brain wanted to admit it.

He was in there for at least eight or nine minutes. Then he finally came up to the counter with a bag of chips.

He still didn’t say a word, so I didn’t either. I just took the chips and scanned them.

When I looked down at the register, everything felt normal for one second. Then I looked up and caught him staring directly into my eyes.

He held it for maybe 2 seconds. It doesn’t sound long, but it was. There was no expression on his face when he did it.

Then he looked down and paid. I handed him back the bag, and he turned and walked toward the door.

I remember thinking maybe I was overreacting. Maybe he was just a weird guy. But right as he got to the door and pushed it halfway open, he stopped and turned his head back toward me without fully turning his body.

His chin was slightly lowered, so his eyes had to look up at me. Then he smiled.

I still don’t know how to explain that smile without sounding dramatic. It looked like he knew exactly how creepy he looked and he was doing it on purpose.

It made every hair in my body stand up. Then he stepped outside and instead of walking toward any of the pumps or toward a car, he walked around the side of the building.

When he did it, he kept his eyes on me through the glass. He kept that smile, too.

I just stood there watching him until the angle cut him off. Then I rushed to the camera monitor and followed him there.

I saw him round the building and head toward the side where the woods were.

Then he disappeared into the blind spot behind the building. He didn’t come back out.

I waited maybe 10 seconds, then 20, then a minute. He never reappeared. That was enough for me to lock the door early, even though it was a little before midnight.

This part might sound dramatic, but I texted my family and my friends and told them that there was a creepy guy outside and I wasn’t joking anymore.

I said if I stopped replying, that meant something probably happened to me because of him.

I rushed through the closing stuff as fast as I could. I barely cleaned anything.

I kept checking the cameras over and over, expecting to see him pop back out.

Nothing. Midnight hit and I decided I couldn’t stay there any longer. I grabbed my stuff, turned off what I needed to turn off, and went to the front door.

I unlocked it and stepped out. And that moment of having to relock it was so tense, I couldn’t have done it quick enough.

Once I did, I took off running to my car. It was parked off to the side of the building.

I got most of the way there and just as I reached it and slowed for half a second, I heard fast footsteps, not running, but worse somehow, like speed walking steps slapping the pavement in front of the store.

I turned and saw him. It was that guy. He had come from the front corner of the building and was moving toward me and my car fast.

I yanked my car door open and threw myself inside. I locked the door and started the engine so fast I almost flooded it.

The second the car started, I hit reverse and peeled out of that lot. I looked once in the mirror and saw him standing there in the lights watching me leave.

The whole drive home, I was sending voice texts and regular texts to everyone saying I was right, that I knew he was going to come out of nowhere.

None of that was a prank anymore. The next day, I texted my boss and told him exactly what happened.

I said I wasn’t doing overnights anymore. He looked at the footage later and his response honestly made me even angrier.

He got kind of defensive and said the guy looked like a regular customer to him.

He said maybe I had just gotten spooked because of the phone calls and connected things that weren’t connected.

That pissed me off more than I can explain. I was the one there.

I was the one getting the calls. I was the one who saw that guy disappear around the building and come speedw walking at me out of nowhere when I left.

I didn’t care if the footage didn’t fully capture how it felt because I knew what happened.

I quit right after that. I didn’t even argue much. I just told him if he thought that was normal, he could work the closing shift himself.

I entered that job with attitude and I was proud of it. Even now, many years later, I still think the caller and that guy who came in were the same person, even if I can’t prove it.

My name is Cadence. I work the closing shift at a small dive bar in the quieter part of my town.

The place is right off the highway, but the parking lot also has a back entrance that’s available to the general town.

It’s nothing fancy, just a dimly lit spot where the regulars know each other by name, and the jukebox has been playing the same rotation of classic rock for years.

Most of our customers are locals, truckers passing through, and the occasional lost tourist looking for a stiff drink.

I like it though. The routine is predictable. The tips are surprisingly decent. And I’ve learned how to handle the usual bar crowd.

The talkers, the flurers, the quiet drinkers, and the ones who just want to be left alone.

Weekends are obviously a lot more hectic. But the thing about working during the week is that I’m expected to work my night shifts alone.

I don’t even get a bar back to pop in now and again. Yeah, it’s obviously easier work and slower during the week, but I miss the company of my co-workers.

I tend to be pretty vigilant during my shifts because we do get the occasional bar fight considering the kinds of crowds we attract.

That’s why I clocked the guy immediately. It was sometime after 1:00 in the morning on a Tuesday when he walked in.

If I had to guess, I’d say he was in his late 40s, but he was extremely cleancut and well-groomed.

Not the kind of look you’d expect from a guy his age in an area like this.

He was wearing a black turtleneck underneath a black trench coat. Definitely well-dressed, but casual about it.

I’m not sure how to explain it, but he had this aura of sophistication about him that makes you think of money.

Real money, not the loud, look at me kind. He glanced around slowly before walking swiftly over to the bar and taking a seat.

I also remember him having oddly good posture, but that’s neither here nor there. When I walked over, he glanced at the bottles behind me and ordered something top shelf without hesitation.

As I was pouring his drink, he asked me if I liked working here with a smile on his face.

It was a normal enough question, so I answered him honestly. I told him yeah and smiled back.

I then made a joke about being a bartender or something. I wish I could say I got a creepy vibe from him, but that’s not the energy he was giving off.

He genuinely seemed like a standup guy, kind of like the single dad at his kids baseball game that gives the whole team a high five.

He chatted with me for a bit, which I didn’t mind since the bar was pretty quiet at that point.

Eventually, he asked me if I ever thought about doing something bigger, which I admit was somewhat bizarre.

Again, though, not a totally creepy question given the nature of the situation. I gave him my standard bartender smile and told him I was happy for now.

He nodded and sipped his drink, seemingly disappointed at my answer for reasons I didn’t understand.

After a long pause, he asked me what time I got off out of nowhere.

That question surprised me. I hadn’t picked up any kind of flirting from him whatsoever, so I was a little disappointed to discover that our conversation had just been another one of those empty attempts at getting my number.

I smiled and gave him a vague answer, trying to brush him off in a friendly way without seeming uptight.

Before he could answer, I busied myself and began wiping down the counter, but he didn’t press.

He just smiled like he already knew. Then drained his drink and pulled out a crisp $100 bill, laying it gently on the bar like it was nothing.

Then, without another word, he walked out into the night. I didn’t really know what to make of the encounter.

I know it sounds like nothing, but his demeanor was just so far off my radar that I was intrigued.

Either way, I figured I was never going to see him again and got on with my life.

As it would turn out, though, I was wrong. About a week later, he came back.

Only this time, he wasn’t alone. There was a woman with him. She drew my attention since I hadn’t seen her before.

She looked like she was in her mid30s and was dressed in a way that didn’t quite match her age.

Trendy but off, like someone trying a little too hard to blend in with a younger crowd.

I watched her closely as the two of them approached the bar. Everything about her seemed calculated, from the way she smiled too easily to the way she leaned against the bar like we were already friends.

As I was setting down napkins in front of them, the very first thing she said to me wasn’t a hello or a drink order, but a compliment.

She put on this overly joyful smile and said, “You’re so pretty.” Her fingers brushed against my arm as she said it, lingering just a second longer than normal.

I laughed and thanked her, but I could instantly tell that something was off about this woman.

The man didn’t speak, which I thought was also a little strange given that he had been so talkative last time.

They ordered drinks and poured them, and that’s when questions came flooding in. The woman asked me how long I’ve been working here along with how old I was and a bunch of other small talk questions like that.

I answered in short polite sentences, but I got the sense that this wasn’t small talk.

She was studying me. At one point, she looked over at the man and it seemed like they were communicating despite not speaking.

She looked back at me and told me that she ran an exclusive event club.

She leaned in a bit as she said it, lowering her voice as if to prevent her being overheard by another patron.

She told me that she’s always looking for young, fun people for private parties and that I’d make a killing, 10 grand for a weekend.

I let out a small, forced laugh and told her it sounded too good to be true.

She insisted that it was real and told me that a bunch of girls like me worked for them.

Her smile never faltered at any moment, which was starting to creep me out. She steered the conversation back to the job, circling around the same words.

Fun, safe, exclusive. Then casually, she said, “You should step outside for a second. There’s someone who can explain it better.”

My pulse kicked up. I wasn’t playing around at that point. I didn’t even bother pretending like I wasn’t creeped out.

“I’m good,” I said in a firm voice. No smile on my face this time.

Just then, a group of customers walked in, laughing and talking loudly. The woman’s expression changed in an instant, her friendly mask slipping just slightly before she turned to the man beside her.

Without another word, they left. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t unsettled after that.

Those random people had just propositioned me for god knows what. I told my co-workers and my boss about the situation, and we all agreed to keep an eye out should those people return.

My boss assured me that he was always a 15-minute drive away should I need him, and the bar security cameras were typically enough to deter any misbehavior.

There wasn’t really much I could do beyond that. It’s not like those people had done anything illegal.

I tried to push it out of my head, but a few nights later, after closing, I saw the car.

It was parked across the street, engine off, just sitting there. I tried to tell myself it was nothing, but the feeling of being watched crawled over my skin like static.

As I walked to my car, I kept my head down. My keys clutched tight in my hand.

When I pulled out of the lot, I checked my mirrors. The car followed. It stayed back just enough to avoid suspicion, but every turn I made, it was still there.

I took a random turn onto a side street and it followed another still there.

I started freaking out internally. I knew it was them. I forced myself to stay calm to think.

Then without hesitating, I navigated and pulled into the parking lot of a police station, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles practically turned white.

The second I pulled in, the car sped off. [snorts] Nothing happened after that for a while.

But I knew it wasn’t over. It turned out I was right. It was a slow weekday shift, barely anyone coming in.

By midnight, I was wiping down the counter, half thinking about closing early, when the door creaked open.

It was the woman. I immediately sent my boss a text as inconspicuously as I possibly could.

I looked back up and the woman was staring at me with that same artificial smile.

She walked slowly to the bar and sat down with her hands folded neatly. I was debating just telling her to leave when she said, “Thought I’d come check on you.”

My stomach started twisting, but I did my best to hide it. I told her we were about to close and that she had to leave, but she made this pouty face and asked for just one old-fashioned.

I thought about denying her, but I figured pouring the drink would stall her long enough for my boss to arrive.

So, I turned around and got started, trying to keep my cool. And then I heard it, the soft, unmistakable click of the front door shutting.

I whipped around. The woman was gone. I felt this awful pit in my stomach as I stepped toward the entrance.

Through the glass, I saw it. A black van idling just outside. Without thinking, I locked the door as quickly as I could.

But then, metal rattling from the back door. Someone was trying to get in. I didn’t think.

I grabbed the heaviest thing I could, a metal shaker, and clutched it like a weapon as I dialed 911 with my other hand.

There was no way the police would get there in time. So, I thought about making a run for it out the front door, but I didn’t for whatever reason.

I was bracing myself for a fight when I saw headlights pulling into the lot.

It was my boss. The sounds on the back door suddenly stopped. And a few seconds later, the van pulled out of the lot with a screech.

I embraced my boss and told him what had happened, and he said he had gotten the license plate of the van as it was leaving.

When the cops arrived, my boss reviewed the security footage with them. It was worse than I had imagined.

Just before the woman left, the cameras had captured two masked figures crouching near the front door, waiting.

There was another person in the back who was banging on the door with his fist, clearly trying to flush me out to the front.

It was downright horrifying. To make matters worse, the plate number my boss had caught turned out to be unregistered.

It’s been quite a while since this incident, but no progress has been made. The only good news to come out of the whole thing is that my boss doesn’t make me work alone anymore.

Despite that, I’m still extremely uneasy anytime I’m scheduled for a night shift. I still question how they knew I’d be working alone.

It doesn’t make any sense. Even now, I often think about what would have happened had I given into fear and run out the front door.

I used to work the night shift at a gas station/convenience store off a quiet stretch of highway.

I say used to because after what happened to me a few months ago, I won’t work a night shift again.

It’s a small station, the kind that barely gets any business once it gets late.

Most of my shift was spent restocking shelves, wiping down counters, and occasionally ringing up a trucker or traveler passing through.

I remember the whole thing vividly. It was just past 2:30 in the morning.

By then, even the truckers had mostly dried up, and I was left with basically nothing to do.

I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, trying to kill some time. At one point, I stepped outside for some air, rubbing my hands together against the cold.

I exhaled a few times, watching my breath disappear in the cold. The parking lot was empty, just the pumps, the road, and the dark stretch of trees beyond.

The neon sign flickered faintly, and I remember it being hazy out, like you could literally see the moisture in the air.

Even with the highway not too far off, it was pretty silent out there. Right as I was about to walk back towards the store, I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye.

I whipped my head around and realized there was a person standing behind one of the pumps.

How had I not noticed him earlier? He was wearing a dark red hoodie with a hood up and he had both hands shoved in his pockets.

There wasn’t a car in sight, so he obviously wasn’t fueling up. The only thing was he didn’t seem to be heading towards the store either.

He was just standing there half turned toward the store like he was watching me.

At first, I figured maybe he was waiting for someone, but something about the way he moved rubbed me the wrong way.

He was kind of shuffling about in this circular pattern. I entered the store but made sure to keep an eye on him through the glass.

I kept track of him while pretending not to, hoping someone would drive up and pick him up or something.

But after a few minutes, he started walking toward the door, slow at first, then suddenly pushing inside like he’d made up his mind all at once.

He walked up to the counter, but didn’t say anything right away. Just stared at me like he was sizing me up.

Then, in a rushed, almost rehearsed way, he muttered that his car had broken down just before the pumps.

He said he needed a jump or maybe just a little gas to get to the next town.

I was literally shocked. He wasn’t even trying to make his story believable. Like, I couldn’t believe he actually expected me to buy his BS story.

I offered to call a tow truck instead. No, no, he said too quick, shaking his head.

He just needed a flashlight. Maybe some help checking under the hood. Something was definitely off.

That much was true. The way he spoke, the way he watched my reaction, it felt like a test.

To be fair, though, people walking into gas stations at that hour are usually a little strange.

And I started wondering whether he actually needed help and was just an odd person or on something.

I asked him where his car was parked, and he told me it was just beyond the highway entrance.

I was obviously skeptical, but then he pointed at the monitor behind me. I turned to look at the screen and to my surprise, there actually was a car parked out there.

I thought to myself, “Oh crap, maybe this guy really does need help.” And that’s when it hit me.

I had literally just been outside and I would have remembered a car parked out there.

I glanced back at the monitor and saw the slightest movement near the car’s back bumper.

Someone was crouching just out of view. A cold wave of dread hit me. I forced a casual smile and agreed to help the guy, but not before telling him I needed to grab my phone from the back office.

I turned slowly, not wanting to spook him. But the second I was out of its direct sight, I slammed my hand onto the emergency panic button under the counter.

The alarm went off instantly, screeching through the store. I expected him to attack me, but what he did instead was even more unsettling.

His nervous energy disappeared. No more fake urgency. No more shifting from foot to foot.

He actually relaxed. His whole body language shifted. And then he smiled. Not a panic smile, not an embarrassed one either.

A slow knowing grin like he had all the time in the world. Like this was amusing to him.

I was in shock. I didn’t even have time to get physical with him. In one fluid motion, he turned and bolted.

I ran to the monitors just in time to see both of them take off.

Not toward the car, but into the woods behind the station. The car just sat there, engine off, headlights off.

No one inside. By the time the police arrived, it was exactly as I saw it.

The car was still there, but the men were gone. No footprints leading away, no sign of them anywhere.

And then one of the officers pointed something out, something I hadn’t noticed before. The front passenger door was open.

There had been a third person inside the whole time. The police took my statement down.

I turned over the surveillance footage and that was that. A few days later, they followed up with me.

They had the car towed and ran the plates. Turned out it had been reported stolen nearly a week earlier, over a 100 miles away.

No one had come forward to claim it. No reports of missing persons. No other crimes linked to it.

Just an abandoned vehicle in the middle of nowhere with no explanation. That was months ago and still nothing.

I don’t know why convenience stores are such popular targets, but I can say for sure that I will never work another night shift again.

This happened a couple weeks ago. I work the night shift at Walmart. It’s not the worst job in the world, but after a while, it starts to feel like you’re just floating through time.

The nights blend together. Same shelves, same routine, same dull hum of the overhead lights.

Hopefully, something better comes along. I usually hang out in and stock the electronic section, which is nice because it’s quieter than the other areas.

People don’t exactly come rushing in at 2 a.m. To buy phone chargers and Bluetooth speakers.

Most of the customers are either night owls killing time or truckers grabbing last minute supplies before heading back on the road.

That’s why I noticed him. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Just another guy wandering the aisles, probably waiting for someone.

But after a few minutes, I realized he wasn’t shopping. He wasn’t even pretending to.

He just kept appearing. Every time I glanced up, he was lingering nearby, hovering in the next aisle over or standing a little too still by the clearance section.

He wasn’t looking at anything. He was just standing there watching me. I told myself I was overthinking it.

The store is big and maybe he was just taking his time. But the way he moved, always just close enough for me to notice, never actually picking anything up.

It set something deep in my gut on edge. I was waiting for him to just get on with it and ask for my number, but he never approached me.

It was like he wanted me to see him, which didn’t make any sense to me.

I went to radio someone about it, but realized that the batteries in my radio must have been dead because it wasn’t working.

Eventually, I started debating whether I should go find a manager when I felt a hand wrap around my arm.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, but before I could react, a woman’s voice rang out loud, friendly, overly familiar.

She exclaimed, “There you are.” Before going on a little spiel about how she had been looking all over for me.

I turned, completely thrown off, and saw a woman I had never seen before in my life.

She was smiling, her grip firm on my arm like we were old friends reuniting.

Before I could say anything, she leaned in and whispered, her tone dropping to something low and urgent.

That guy’s been recording you. Follow me. My stomach dropped. I turned my head slightly, just enough to glance back.

The man was still there, only now he wasn’t even pretending to browse. He was staring right at me.

A cold wave of fear crept over me. I let her pull me. I didn’t even question it.

The way she grabbed my arm, the way she spoke so loud and casually, like we were two old friends reuniting, I clung to it.

I was beyond grateful that someone had realized what was going on and put herself in an uncomfortable position just to help me.

She kept up the act as we walked, rambling about something, maybe a trip she had taken, maybe an inside joke we supposedly shared.

I barely processed the words. My thoughts were stuck on him. Had he really been recording me?

That was creepy as hell. I wanted to know if he was still following us, but I couldn’t muster the courage to turn around just yet.

The woman steered me through the aisles, moving fast. I barely noticed where we were going, only that we were going, that the distance between me and that man was growing.

In all honesty, I was kind of expecting her to quit the pretending to know me at some point, but she kept it up.

At one point, it was getting a little uncomfortable, so I glanced behind me, and to my relief, that man was no longer following.

The woman kept pulling me forward, though. I told her that we were good now and that we should probably go find my manager.

But she just squeezed my arm tighter, telling me that he was lurking somewhere. I thought to myself, “So what?

What’s he going to do in a store full of employees? I was obviously worried at first because no one was around, but now that I wasn’t alone, I started realizing that there wasn’t much of a point in being scared anymore.

I told her this, but she continued moving. I told her I was serious and planted my feet, twisting my arms slightly to loosen her grip.

“You can let go now,” I said, but she didn’t. She smiled at me, but something in it was off.

Come on, just a little further,” she said, basically tugging me at that point.

I glanced around. The store was basically dead. We had moved past the registers, past the selfch checkckout, past the aisles that saw the most foot traffic.

The warehouse section loomed ahead, dimly lit and nearly empty. Beyond that was the side exit, the one without cameras, the one employees used for loading shipments.

That’s when it dawned on me. She was leading me straight to the exit. I didn’t think.

I screamed for help as I yanked my arm free of her grasp with all my might.

She lost her grip just enough for me to pull free. I didn’t waste another second.

I turned and ran toward the front of the store. As I fled, she yelled out something behind me.

She yelled for me to come back, followed by my name, which I hadn’t given her.

I kept running until I saw one of my co-workers who was running toward me, most likely reacting to my screaming.

I told him to call security, which he promptly did. That woman was long gone, though.

By the time I told my story to the security guards, that woman and that man were nowhere in sight.

They reviewed the security footage, and just as I suspected, the woman and man walked into the store together.

She had been with him the entire time. The man’s face was clear as day in one of the frames, but hers was always turned away.

I had a feeling she was the mastermind behind the whole thing, so I was infuriated that the cameras hadn’t picked her face up.

Every second of it had been planned. The police got involved and the whole thing went down as a failed abduction attempt.

I’m still waiting for a resolution about it. That man should definitely be easy to track down given his face was caught on camera.

I have no idea how that woman knew my name. That’s what terrifies me the most.

Those people hadn’t just picked me at random. I was a direct target.

Disclaimer: This content may be created by Al for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.