3 Very Scary TRUE "Someone's Outside" Horror Stories

[Music] When I was 12 years old, my mom had just started trusting me enough to leave me home alone. So, this had to be when I was 12. We live in a peaceful and ordinarily safe little town.

Quiet streets, spacious yards, friendly neighbors, and a charming little village with a bunch of shops and restaurants. It really is not a place where you need to look over your shoulder at night if you're walking alone or anything like that. It just feels safe, which is part of the reason my parents trusted me home alone at such a young age.

I still live with my parents today in the same house. The night in question, it was a weekend. My parents were leaving me home alone for the night.

When we were really little, my grandparents would watch my older sister and I. But since my sister wasn't home for whatever reason, and since I was kind of old enough to be left alone at that age, my parents decided to just trust me by myself, my parents had us young, so they've always been a bit more active in the sense that they'd often travel or go out on the weekends with their friends. They left me some money for pizza for dinner.

It was the ideal night for a 12 or 13year-old. House to myself, video games all night, and pizza for dinner. I used to be obsessed with James Bond video games when I was a kid.

So, I was playing some game called Nightfire for like my third playthrough on my PS2. After I finished the game again, I decided to order the pizza. There was a pizza place right by our house called Gianis.

It's been closed for years now, but it was one of my family's go-to pizzeras. I ordered a regular pie. At the age of 12, I could easily eat three slices by myself.

My mom told me to wrap the leftover slices in tin foil and put them in the fridge. I switched out discs for another video game in the meantime while I waited for the pizza. And when the doorbell finally rang, I hurried downstairs with the $20 bill my parents left me.

My mom told me to tip $4. The pizza place was like three blocks away. So, honestly, it wasn't a bad tip, especially for the time.

The delivery driver was some 30-some year old looking guy, though he looked a little rough, like he had a really long and gross beard. He also wore glasses and was wearing a black trucker's hat. I gave him the 20 and asked for the specific change.

As he handed me the box and counted the change, he looked up at me and then looked past me into the house and said, "You alone here? " I knew it was an odd, creepy question and my parents taught me well about being wary of strangers. I said my parents are on their way home.

A stupid answer in retrospect. I could have just said no, but I knew he was asking because first of all, there were no cars in the driveway and the fact that a kid was accepting the pizza at the door instead of an adults. After he handed me the change, I closed the door.

I ate in the kitchen, probably had three slices, and then wrapped up the rest of them and put them in the fridge. I went back upstairs and played my other James Bond PS2 game, Agent Under Fire. I like this one less than Nightfire, but it was still good.

Hours go by of me playing. It was probably 11:00 when the doorbell rang. Naturally, thinking it was my parents, I rushed downstairs to the door.

I said through the door, "Mom, Dad. " But an unfamiliar voice on the other side said, "Hey, I need help. " They said they need to use a phone.

I said, "Who is this? " And he repeated that he just needs to use a phone. I didn't want to peek through the window because quite honestly, I was scared.

I decided to go upstairs and ignore it. I knew from common sense alone that opening that door would be a horrible, horrible idea. I was walking up the stairs, which are directly in front of the front door, when the man outside banged on the door, and I heard him say, "Wait, please.

I need help. " What that meant was that he saw me. He was watching through the glass at the top of the door.

I turned around and though it was dark on the front porch, I could still see the outline of the man's head. Though I couldn't see his eyes, it was obvious that he was staring back at me. I ran upstairs and ran to my parents' room.

The only house phone that was upstairs was in my parents' room. So, I went to the phone immediately and called my mom's cell phone number. I didn't memorize my dad's number at that age.

My mom picked up the phone, likely under the influence of a few glasses of wine, and then I told her that there's someone at the door asking to come in. This comment likely sobered her up instantly, as I remember her tone shifted dramatically, and she sounded much louder and more concerned. She asked me a few questions.

Firstly, if I had answered the man or at all made him aware that I was home, and I told the truth and said yes. I asked who it was. My mom's tongue grew more and more concerned.

She asked me if for any reason someone knew I was there by myself and I immediately thought of the pizza guy. I told her that the pizza guy asked if I were here alone and around this time the doorbell rang two more times. I told my mom in a panic expressing that the guy would not leave.

My mom told me to stay put in their room and keep the bedroom door locked. She said they were calling the police. My mom kept me on the line with her on her phone while they called the police using my dad's phone.

They had to leave the restaurant they were in to go outside to better be able to communicate. It was a summer night. The windows were all cracked open to let some air into the house.

And through my parents' window, I heard the gate on one side of the house leading to the backyard opening. It opened in a very discreet, gentle sounding way. I told this to my mom and she kept telling me to just stay quiet, stay in their room, and keep the lights off.

I said quietly into the phone, "What if he tries getting in through the den window? " My mom would tell me to just stop talking and wait for the police. She would continue talking into the phone, feeding me updates from the police and their ETA, reminding me also to not talk.

I was starting to calm down just a bit when I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps downstairs. Footsteps of someone inside the house wandering around. I whispered this in a panic to my mom and I heard her scream something and to the other phone to the police.

Probably something along the lines of, "The man is inside the house. Hurry up. " My mom told me to hide under the bed and wait there.

For my 12-year-old self, it was the most horrific, unreal moment of my life. The only thing keeping me feeling relatively protected was the tiny little lock on my parents' bedroom door. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

The stairs are by my sister and I's bedroom down the hall. My parents' bedroom is further down. The footsteps faded for a few moments.

I'm assuming as the intruder went into our bedrooms, searching. My mom told me the police would force their way in and to not move until they were inside. I heard the footsteps in the hallway coming down this way until they got to the bedroom door and then they tried pressing down the door knob only to find it locked.

They tried a few times as if that would somehow magically unlock the door. Then there was a light knocking on the door. But the person on the other side didn't speak a word.

They tried the doororknob one more time before I heard the footsteps walk back down the hallway, then down the stairs, and they faded away deeper into the house. I did my best not to burst out into tears the entire time. I didn't even whisper anything into the phone because I was too scared to make the slightest sound.

My mom finally told me the police were there, but to still stay put. I was expecting to hear them kick down the door, but instead I just rather suddenly heard multiple heavy footsteps and a man shouting my name, identifying himself as a police officer. I heard them coming up the stairs and my mom gave me permission to answer them and unlock the door.

There were two officers upstairs when I opened the door and then two more downstairs. They didn't have to kick down the front door because the back door was left completely a jar. The back sliding window was also slid completely open, which was the obvious original entry point.

I had to talk with the police and tell them everything that happened, including my suspicion of the pizza guy with my parents listening in on the phone. They were in route home, and by the time they got back, there were only two police officers still at the house. With the police report including a note of the pizza guy, they said they do their investigation.

My parents brought me to Giani's Pizzeria the next night and asked me to point the guy out if I saw him. When I didn't see him, they asked the manager which employee matched the description of the delivery guy I described. He said that would be Phil, who was currently out doing a delivery.

After explaining the whole scenario, he said there's no way that would be Phil and asked us to leave the premises. Long story short, my parents made a big scene in the pizzeria and they said they would never give them our business again. We went to the car and waited in the parking lot.

We waited for almost an hour and when he never showed up, we left. My parents thought it was because the manager called or texted the employee, which caused him not to show back up, but who knows? My parents contacted a few lawyers who ultimately didn't take the case due to a lack of solid evidence, stating it would be a waste of time, basically.

Ultimately, we never did go back to that pizzeria, and it wasn't for a long while after that that my parents felt safe leaving me home alone again simply because of this incident. Ultimately, I do think it was the pizza guy, or at least someone associated with him because who else would have known that I was home alone that [Music] night. When I was a teenager, my parents and I moved from California to a secluded area in North Idaho.

My parents had just retired and built their dream home deep in the back country. We had no neighbors in sight, just forest. Endless, dense forest that backed right up to national parkland and paper mill logging grounds.

The house was massive. Two stories, a gym, a full bar and pool room, and a legit movie theater setup in the basement. It felt like the kind of house people dream of.

Remote, quiet, perfect. Or so it seemed. I was dating my high school girlfriend at the time.

One night, while my parents were out on a date downtown, I invited her over to hang out and watch a movie. We were completely alone. I cracked open a beer.

I was underage, but figured no one would care, and we headed down to the movie room to watch Gladiator. Everything started out normal. But somewhere around the midpoint of the movie, maybe close to midnight, something switched in me.

Out of nowhere, I was overwhelmed with this fightor-flight feeling. It was like my body sensed something my brain couldn't see. My heart was pounding, and I kept glancing at the uncovered windows behind us that looked out into the pitch black woods.

I didn't want to freak out my girlfriend, so I kept it to myself. In fact, things got a little heated between us during the movie, but the whole time I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. I didn't know from where, but I knew.

After the movie ended, I walked her upstairs and out to her car. The house was dead quiet again. She drove off and I turned to go back inside when I remembered I'd left the bar, pool room, and movie room lights on.

So, I went back downstairs. I turned off the lights in the movie room first, then paused. My eyes drifted to the large window that looked into the backyard, and that's when I saw him.

Man, he looked homeless. Wild hair, filthy clothes. But what froze me in place was his expression.

He had the biggest, creepiest smile I've ever seen with wide, staring eyes that looked absolutely deranged. And in his hand was a knife. He was gently tapping it on the glass over and over.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating. I slowly backed away and went to the barroom to shut off the rest of the lights. That room has a sliding glass door that also faces the woods.

I flipped the switch and watched in horror as the man calmly walked from the window to the door, still smiling, still staring. At this point, we were less than a foot apart, just the glass between us. He didn't try to get in.

He didn't move at all. He just watched me. I went upstairs without a word.

Right then, my parents were walking through the door. I told them, "I think I need to go to the psych ward or something. I swear I just saw a guy with a knife watching me outside.

" My mom went pale. My dad's eyes narrowed. And without a word, he went to the gun safe, grabbed his rifle, and stormed out to check the property.

I asked my mom what was going on and she said, "There have been a few breakins in the area. A guy wandering through the woods trying to get into homes. The description you gave matches exactly.

" The police were called, but they didn't find anything. No signs of entry, no footprints, just cold black woods. That should have been the end of it, but it wasn't.

That night, as I tried to sleep, I could hear a light tapping sound beneath me. My bedroom was on the second floor, directly above the movie room. It sounded like metal, gently tapping glass.

I tried to convince myself it was nothing. The tapping lasted for hours. This happened night after night for weeks.

Sometimes it would stop. Sometimes I'd wake up at 3:00 a. m.

and hear it faintly again. I even thought I heard footsteps on the roof one night. I checked the windows, but I never saw anyone.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being stalked, watched. Then winter came. My parents had to go out of town for a few days, but they were still nervous about what had happened.

Before they left, they gave me a shotgun just in case. We also had a big Rottweiler, sweetest dog you'd ever meet, and totally silent, unless something was really there. One night while I was home alone, I heard slow crunching footsteps in the snow outside, heavy and deliberate.

The dog stood up, ears perked, and began growling low and deep at the front door, then barking, ferocious, loud, and non-stop. He only ever did that when he saw something real. I stayed silent.

I didn't want whoever was out there to know why I was home. I didn't move. Then came the knock.

slow, hollow, and taunting. I didn't answer. I slept with the shotgun next to me that night.

Door locked, blinds drawn, dog at my feet. The next morning, I went outside and saw something that made my stomach drop. Footprints.

Fresh human footprints circled the entire house. They stopped at every single window like someone was trying to look in, searching for me. I followed the prince around the property and they eventually led into the forest.

I followed them maybe half a mile before they started to zigzag, veer off, loop back like whoever made them was trying to throw me off their trail. I turned back. Something told me it was a bad idea to keep going.

That night, the tapping came back louder this time. I knew it was him. I unlocked my door, grabbed my shotgun, and stepped onto the second story deck.

I flipped on the fog lights that illuminated the backyard. There he was. Same man, same smile, and same dead eyes.

He was holding the knife again, staring directly at me like he could see through me. I raised the shotgun and shouted, "If you don't leave, I'll put one right through you. " He didn't move or flinch, just stared, unblinking, grinning.

I fired a warning shot into the air and I finally got a reaction. He staggered a bit, then slowly backed into the woods, still facing me. That's when I decided to unleash the dog.

I sprinted downstairs, threw open the sliding door, and let him loose. He bolted into the forest like a black missile, barking and snarling. I'd never seen him that aggressive.

He had a shot collar, so he couldn't go far. But I like to think he chased that guy off for good because after that night, I never saw him [Music] again. This happened in March of 2022 during spring break.

I was in my second year of college. My friends and I, six of us total, decided to rent a cabin out in South Carolina for a few days just to get away from everything. No school, no stress, no phones.

It was supposed to be one of those quiet trips where you drink too much, play music too loud, and maybe make some memories you'll laugh about later. There were four of us guys, me, Matt, Chris, and Tyler, and two girls, Jess, and Sarah. We'd all been close since freshman year.

The cabin we picked was stupid cheap for its size. Two stories, a wraparound porch, two bathrooms, and listed as being on private land near a lake. It was way out there.

No towns for miles, surrounded by forest. The guy who owned it had a thick accent and seemed kind of off when we talked to him on the phone. All he said was, "Just don't go wandering too deep into the woods.

Some old stuff back there. Wells, busted fences, snakes. You don't want to get turned around.

We laughed about it. Thought he was just trying to add some spooky southern charm to the trip. But when we got there, it wasn't funny.

The drive took forever. GPS gave out an hour before we arrived. The last part of the road was just dirt and gravel, barely wide enough for one car.

Trees got thicker the closer we got. When we finally saw the cabin, we all kind of went quiet. It didn't look like the pictures.

It was older and dirtier. The windows were dusty and a few of the shutters were hanging off by the hinges. There was this faint smell outside, like old garbage and wet wood.

We brushed it off and made jokes. Said it just added character. We unloaded, claimed rooms, and started drinking by 7:00 p.

m. The first night was fun. We grilled outside, cranked music from a Bluetooth speaker, and played some card games.

By 11:00, it got cold, so we moved inside. That's when I noticed how dark the woods were. I don't mean just nighttime dark.

I mean complete blackness. The porch lights barely lit up more than a few feet, and the trees were so dense it felt like they were pressing in from all sides. No bugs, no wind, just total heavy silence.

We ended up crashing around 2:00 a. m. I had one of the rooms on the ground floor right next to the kitchen, small and just a bed and a window facing the woods.

At around 4:15, I woke up. No reason, just wide awake like someone had poked me. I laid there for a second, heart beating fast.

Then I heard it tap tap tap. I thought it was the heater at first, but then it repeated. Steady, non- metallic, non- mechanical.

It sounded like fingers. I looked at the window and there was a man standing there. He was pressed up against the glass, face almost touching it, pale skin, wild hair, no shirt, just staring in.

His mouth hung slightly open like he was breathing through it. His eyes were wide. He didn't blink.

He didn't move. He just stood there and tapped soft and slow like he was trying to tease me. I felt like my body locked up.

Then the tapping got a little faster. I whispered for Matt who was sleeping on the couch outside my room. I said his name again louder.

He woke up groggy and asked what I wanted and just pointed. He looked over, saw the man, and immediately jumped up, knocking over the coffee table. That must have scared the guy off because by the time Matt turned the porch light on and ran outside, he was gone.

We all got up. The girls were terrified. Tyler tried to convince everyone it was just some drunk local messing with us.

Chris said maybe it was a hunter who got lost, but I knew it was that guy watching me. He wasn't lost. We blocked the doors, moved the couch in front of the big living room window, and took turns staying awake for a few hours.

Nothing else happened that night. The next morning, we went outside. There were footprints, bare human footprints, circling the entire cabin.

They stopped at every window, every single one, even the little one above the upstairs shower. That should have been it. We should have left, but we didn't.

We were dumb and stubborn, and we stayed. Night two started the same. drinks, music, fire pit, but the energy was different.

Everyone kept glancing at the woods. Jess didn't drink, and Chris kept his hunting knife on his belt. When we finally went inside, we locked every window and double checked the doors.

Around 3:30 a. m. , Matt went to the kitchen for water.

He stopped in the hallway and called my name. I got up and saw him standing there pointing. There was someone in the kitchen.

The man from before, but this time he was inside naked. His back was to us, covered in long, raw looking scratches. He was standing in front of the fridge, staring at it like he didn't know what it was.

He made this slow swaying motion like he was rocking on his feet. Matt didn't speak. He just backed up.

We all gathered silently at the hallway entrance. I had a pocketk knife. Sarah had the fire poker.

Chris grabbed one of the chair legs he'd snapped earlier trying to be funny. We turned on the light. The man was gone.

The back door was wide open, but it wasn't broken. It wasn't forced. It was just open.

We left 20 minutes later. No one argued. We packed only the basics, wallets, keys, phones, and drove through the woods until we had enough signal to call the sheriff.

When we met the deputy at a diner off the highway, he didn't look surprised at all. He asked if anyone was hurt, then said, "Yeah, we've had some trouble with folks squatting up in those woods. " Not always right in the head.

We tried to explain it wasn't just some homeless guy. This man watched us, came back two nights in a row and had a key or somehow got inside. The deputy just nodded like he'd heard it before.

When we mentioned the owner, his face almost implied that he knew the guy. The listing disappeared a few days later, completely wiped from every rental site. We never got answers and never got a call.

We never even got our deposit back. But that face, the way he looked at me through the window, I still see it sometimes when I wake up at night. We don't talk about that trip much anymore.

But as far as I know, none of us have been back to South Carolina since.