1 Hour of Rainy Night Drive Horror Stories | Vol. 1 (Compilation)

Foreign school: I signed up for DoorDash just to see if it was as good as they advertised. Initially, though, it took me a whole month to finally get myself to take on my first delivery. But from then on, I did a couple of deliveries a day and was really happy with the results. A couple of months after that, I quit my grocery job and started dashing every day after school and even on most weekends. On this night, I was working extra late because it was a holiday weekend. I was driving from 8 PM until

2 A.M., pretty much just going back and forth from the 24/7 McDonald's. A little past two, I picked up another McDonald's order and went on route to the customer. It was set to be delivered to some sort of a warehouse, and in the notes, it said to go in through the side doors and drop it off at the front desk. When I got there, I pulled into this huge parking lot. It was mostly empty, only having a few semi-trucks in it. The building was definitely an old warehouse, being just a large rectangle with a few

windows and a single door at the front. I checked one more time to make sure I had it right to deliver it through the side door, then pulled around to the side and parked. The side door was one of those really heavy metal doors with a small glass window. I looked through that tiny window and didn't see anything but a small, dark entrance room. However, the glare from my car's headlights made the window reflective and hard to see through. I swung it open and was immediately taken aback. It was just as dark as it seemed

through the window, and it only had a tiny wall light in the corner that was more of a dim safety light. There was no front desk, so I walked around the corner and stood at the end of a long, unlit corridor. I knew that most places that have night shift workers don't keep on the unnecessary lights, but this seemed excessive. I couldn't even see the end of the hallway, so if I were to walk down there, I would be walking into complete darkness. I took my phone out and checked now for a third time to

see if I'd gone to the wrong place or through the wrong door. Everything seemed right, but there wasn't any way I was going to walk through that hallway. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how quiet the whole building was—no machinery moving or people talking, not a sound at all. I decided to call the customer. I clicked on their name and had to dial the number, and just a moment later, I heard a phone ring echo from the other end of the hallway. After another few seconds, it rang again, but it was

closer and louder this time. I stared into this empty corridor and could barely make out the faint glow of someone's phone. "Hey, I got an order here from DoorDash. I'm gonna leave it right here for you," I said, setting the bag down in front of me. The figure of a large man started to come out of the dark corridor, but they didn't say anything. I waited another second, but as they got closer, it just really seemed unnerving—the way they were walking so fast and not speaking. I had this feeling like someone was gonna jump out

behind me or something, and overall I was a little freaked out. I turned around and walked quickly out of the door and back to my car. A few moments later, I saw some movement from behind the small glass window on the door just before I pulled away. That whole thing gave me chills and had me call it a night and go straight home. In the end, I chose to believe it was just a weird situation all around, but nothing really happened, so I blew it off. A couple of days went by, and on Monday evening,

while I was driving again, I got a strange call. It was from the police department. What happened next was more complicated than it had to be, but basically, they questioned me about why I was at that specific warehouse at 2:30 A.M. on Saturday morning. Apparently, they had security footage of my car pulling up. After explaining that I was just a DoorDash driver and I proved it with the delivery receipt, they told me what was going on. They said that the workers had come back from their holiday weekend, where the warehouse was not in operation, and

found a DoorDash delivery sitting in the middle of the hallway. Whoever was there had broken in and ordered with a fake account, which is all scary in its own right, but the creepiest part is that they didn't even take the bag of food. It's pretty obvious that they were looking for something else. I don't know what they wanted from me, but I can only assume that if I had stayed and waited for the man, something terrible would have happened. When this happened, I was 23 and worked full-time at a pizza shop in my local area.

I'm not sure if things were going on before this, but as far as I know, everything started and ended on this one night. My best friend Tim and I worked the night shifts at this pizza place. It was a real small shop, having just three or four tables inside because we specialized in delivery and takeout. Both Tim and I got our jobs there while we were in college but just never left. Being in a quiet rural town too, the job wasn't too much work; we never had busy days, really, just a steady flow of orders

sometimes. On this night, there was a light storm outside, and in return, business was slow. There were a few orders here and there, but overall, we didn't have much to do. By 10 PM, Tim suggested we start cleaning up the place and maybe even clocking out 15 minutes early. I went with it, grabbing some rags to wipe the tables with when the phone at the front desk rang. I picked up after a few rings. "How can we help you today?" "Hello?" I waited another five seconds before putting the phone down and shaking my head. Just

some prank call, I thought. I went back to scrubbing the tables, but at the front of the store, I saw a glare coming from the window. There was a car parked a few spots back. I couldn't see too well through the window in the rain, but there was definitely a light on in the car, like a cell phone or something. The pizza shop was on an individual lot; there were no other cars, so that was the only reason I noticed them. A moment later, the phone rang again. Tim was closer, so he picked up. This

time, I could hear someone's muffled voice coming from the phone, and after a short talk, Tim hung up. At the same time, the light in the car turned off, and they drove away. I told Tim what I saw and how it was a little weird, but he shrugged and said it was just some old man who was ordering a pizza for delivery. I looked back at the now-empty parking lot. It wouldn't make much sense for someone to order a pizza for delivery from right outside the shop, so I figured Tim was right and it was

nothing. He started making the pizza while I continued cleaning. Ten minutes later, Tim boxed it up and handed it off to me to deliver. I ran through the rain to my car, then pulled up the address on my phone—11 minutes away—not too bad. I pulled out and started making my way there. The roads were dead; nobody was out at all. Google Maps took me down to a neighborhood full of large homes, then had me turn down a long driveway that led to a cul-de-sac, where there were three more driveways, each leading to a different house.

I went down the one Maps told me to and pulled up next to the home. It was one of those large expensive houses, but pretty old-looking and not very modern at all. I parked the car and double-checked the address with the house number, then picked up the pizza and ran up to the front door. "Pizza delivery!" I took a step back and looked at the front of the house; all of the lights were off. I dialed Tim's cell and had him call the guy who ordered. My phone buzzed the moment later, and Tim told me

that his call went straight to voicemail. I shook my head in frustration and ran back through the rain to my car and got in. I tossed the pizza on the passenger seat and started backing out. This wasn't out of the ordinary—getting fake orders or dead deliveries—but it still annoyed me every time. When I got back, Tim was cleaning and said there were no more orders, so we were good to finish up and head out. I tossed the pizza in the trash and started helping him. Both of us were in the back cleaning the ovens and

wiping the prep counters when a sudden bang came from the front of the building. We looked at each other, then ran to the front. First, we didn't see anything, but then Tim spotted a small crack on the door. I walked over and opened it, and right outside was a heavy rock, big enough to throw and do some damage with. I looked around, seeing the parking lot was completely empty and nobody was nearby. Both of us were really confused and kind of freaked out. We talked about maybe calling the cops, but neither of us wanted to

deal with that right now. To put things in perspective, it was 10 minutes before we were off, and if we called, then we'd be here for another hour at least. The crack on the door wasn't too big, not really that noticeable, so we chose to wait and just tell our manager the next day instead. We quickly finished up with the cleaning and left through the back door, where our cars were parked. On the drive home, I rethought all the strange things that had happened, and it made me uneasy. I pulled into my driveway and walked

inside. It was late, so I knew I had to get in bed soon, but I wanted something to snack on first. I went to the kitchen to see what I had, but before I even opened the pantry, I heard a car splash through the puddles on the street outside my house. From the sound of it, I could tell it was parking. I walked over to my window and peeked outside, seeing a car parked right in front of my driveway. It only took me a second to realize it was the same car I'd seen outside the

pizza shop. Cold rush went through me, and I stayed at the window to see what they were doing. The car was still on, but I couldn't see through their window. After a minute of no movement, I took out my phone and called Tim, telling him that I think one of the customers followed me home and was parked right outside my house. "Are you serious? You need to call the cops—something's not right," he said, urging me to hang up and call the police immediately. I don't know why I was so nervous to call the— "Cops." But

hearing Tim say it made me feel better about it. I moved away from the window and dialed 9-1-1. The lady on the line said that they would have someone on their way and that I should stay hidden and wait. I heard a car door open and close, so I quickly said, "Okay," and hung up. Looking back out the window, a man was walking up my driveway. He was wearing dark clothes covering his whole body, with a hood covering his face. As he approached the house, I closed the curtains by the window and waited. Footsteps came

to the front door, then they continued across the front of the house until they reached the outside of the window and stopped. The sudden silence made the sound of the rain increasingly louder. I felt like I was standing there quietly for minutes before I stepped forward and moved the curtain an inch to the side, just enough to peek through. The man's cold eyes stared back at me. I let go of the curtain, and the man banged on the window. I stood a few feet away, terrified to death, and just as quickly as it started, it

ended. There was no more banging, no footsteps, nothing. All that was left was the sound of the raindrops clicking against the window. Although I never heard the man leave, he was gone when the police showed up—no car or man in sight. I told them all that had happened from the middle of my shift to the end of the night. They looked at me like I was crazy, and part of me felt crazy too. None of it made any sense, and there didn't seem to be any motive for the man to have done what he did.

Honestly, because of that, the whole night had me messed up for a while. Going through something as senseless as that was really just [ __ ] with my head. I'm hoping that by sharing this, someone may be able to help me understand what happened or why the man did what he did. It sounds odd, but even now, when it gets really quiet on rainy days, there's an eerie feeling that rushes through me, bringing me back to that night. I did deliveries from my parents' restaurant when I was in high school. I had just turned 16

and got my driver's license, and my parents were always wanting to start offering delivery. I didn't want to be a waiter or work at the register, so driving sounded like a good option. When this happened, I'd been doing deliveries for a few months, so I was pretty comfortable with it. It was a Thursday around 8 PM, and my dad gave me an order to deliver. I got my car, which was actually my mom's SUV, then started the drive. Google Maps said the house was 25 minutes away. Our town was small, so 25 minutes away was

actually pretty far. As I drove, I started to recognize the area as being on the edge of town, and I still had 10 minutes to go. I'd never been this far out in this direction before, so I was definitely paying attention and keeping my eyes open. I wasn't scared per se, but just felt uncomfortable. The only houses I was passing now were farmhouses, far from the main road. When the directions told me to turn, it was down a long, unpaved path going straight to one of these farmhouses. Now I was starting to get a little

freaked. A farmhouse this far out at night was probably the last place I wanted to be, but I knew I was probably just spooking myself and it was just a simple delivery. I drove down to the end of the path, which ended and just became a small grass field in front of the house. It wasn't clear whether or not to drive on the grass, so I just parked the car there and got out. It was eerily quiet; all I could hear were my footsteps on the grass as I walked up to the house. The porch

light was on, but no other lights were on inside the house. I was looking over my shoulders constantly and walked quickly; the longer I was out there, the more uncomfortable I was. Just before I reached the porch, I heard something that sounded like it was coming from the backyard behind the farmhouse, but it was loud, like a wooden door opening. I stepped onto the porch and dropped the bag on the doorstep, then rang the doorbell and started rushing back to the car. I was regretting how far I parked and wished I had just driven on

the grass. As I listened to the only sound of my footsteps under me, I started to hear more footsteps running behind me in my direction. I turned around and saw three men sprinting at me through the grass. I tried to run back to my car, but in seconds I was tackled to the ground. One of them held me down while another started taking everything from my pockets. I was yelling and screaming for help, but I knew nobody could hear me. It all happened really fast, and once they looted my pockets, one of the men kicked

me in the stomach, and they all ran and got in the car, turning around and driving away. I got up and just watched the headlights disappear on the long, empty road. I had no phone and no way to get back. I didn't know what else to do, then just start walking toward the road. When I reached the road, I started walking down the way I came. I had no way of telling time, but I think I was walking for 30 to 40 minutes before a patrol car pulled up in front of me. My parents had

called for them. To check on me because I wasn't responding, to sum it up, the cops found a small barn behind the farmhouse with another restaurant delivery bag inside it. They think they tried to do the same thing to someone before me but probably missed their chance or chickened out for some reason because there were no other reports. The actual owners of the farmhouse were out of town, so they had no involvement. My phone was able to be tracked, though, and was found thrown in a field off the side of the road, not too far

away. The stolen car, however, took three weeks to be located. It was found nearly 400 miles away and had been almost entirely emptied. This was almost a year ago now, and those three men that attacked me still have yet to be identified. I was driving my delivery van back from a small out-of-town delivery one night. It was somewhere around 11 PM, and it was raining steadily outside. I didn't usually work this late, but every once in a while, there would need to be a delivery made after store hours. So, past 10 PM, the stores I

delivered to are spread out, so most of the driving is on long highways with nothing interesting to see. As I went along the road, I saw headlights up ahead. Although going the speed limit, I caught up to them quickly. It was an old pickup truck driving really slow in front of me. It was as if they were scared of slipping on the wet road, but they were going way too slow for it to be practical. After a minute, I was getting impatient and started looking for a chance to go around them. I sped up a

little bit, putting on my turn signal so they knew what I was doing, but just before I made my move, their truck suddenly lost control and ran off the road. Thank you. I slammed on my brakes and pulled over. I stayed in my van, looking out the side window. They somehow barely missed a few trees, but they were down a slope and likely stuck. Even though it wasn't my fault at all, I felt really bad and couldn't just leave them without at least calling for help. I tried dialing 9-1-1, but there was no signal at

all. After a minute of not seeing any movement by the truck, I got even more nervous and got out of my van to check on them. I walked down the side of the road through the cold rain and carefully walked down the slope until I reached the trees. The truck was wedged in some bushes but didn't seem to be too damaged. I approached the driver's side door. The window was fogged over, and I couldn't see inside. I knocked, then opened the door. There was a man sitting in the driver's seat, frantically trying to get the

truck to turn on. "Hey, are you okay? Did you want some help?" I asked. He looked up at me, not saying a word for a few seconds. Then he responded, "Can you give me a ride?" I told him I could take him to the nearest gas station so he could call for help, but that's as far as I could go. After some thinking, he agreed to it, stepped out, and I led the way back to my van. Despite the rain, he walked slowly and seemed to watch my every move. Every time I looked back, he

was just looking me in the eyes until I turned my head away. It creeped me out, but maybe he was just trying to make sure that I wasn't creepy myself. We both got inside, and I started driving. I really didn't know how close the nearest gas station was, but I was sure it had to be, at most, 50 to 60 miles out. The first few minutes, I tried to make some small talk, but the man didn't really respond. I thought maybe his head was hurting from the crash, but either way, it made things really awkward.

Every once in a while, I'd look over, and the man would be staring at me—not smiling or frowning, just staring. I was starting to wonder who this man was that I picked up. I felt like any normal person would be grateful for my help after getting stranded in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, not long into the drive, I saw the lights of a small town up ahead, but as we got closer, the man only started acting more strange—he was looking around a lot, both inside the car and outside the windows. When I pulled into the

gas station, I parked the van and asked if he needed help with anything else. He didn't answer, but I felt tension as if he was contemplating something. I tried to break the silence. "Okay, well, I'm gonna get back on the road then." The man took one more look around, then suddenly forced his body over, shoving me against the door aggressively. He started punching me as I opened the door and tried to get out, but just then, the passenger door swung open, and the man was pulled away from me. I was trying to catch my breath,

still not sure what happened until I got out of the van. There were two police cars and some officers holding the man down. They denied giving me all the details, but apparently, the man was running away from a serious crime in a stolen truck. Once an officer found the truck crashed on the side of the road, they called in to have some other officers stake out at the gas station and wait for him. They didn't know he was with me when I pulled in, but once they saw me getting attacked, they jumped in to... Help!

I don't know if he attacked me in an effort to steal my van or if it was because he saw the police cars and thought I'd taken him in, but either way, it was a horrifying experience. I knew the man was creepy, but I had no idea how much danger I truly was in. If those police officers weren't waiting at the gas station, I don't know if I'd be here right now. My name is Tommy, and I started doing UberEats last year after I lost my part-time retail job. I'd seen their ads everywhere about how

the job was so relaxing and easy money, and some of my friends were curious about the gig too, so I took one for the team to figure out if all the hype was true. It wasn't. Driving around on a time crunch made the gig really stressful, and sometimes it would be for just a couple bucks. I was only a teenager, and my only bills I had to pay were my car payments and car insurance, so making a ton of money wasn't necessary. But it did feel like I was getting ripped off for the amount of

time and work. I pushed aside getting a different job because I was lazy, but after this happened, I quit right away. I picked up an order from a Chinese place and was heading to the customer's address. I don't remember it being a large order or anything; I think it was just a normal small order with a small payout. On the way to their address, I got a text in the UberEats app. It was my customer asking where I was. Then another text came in telling me to hurry up. I was driving, so I couldn't respond,

but I was just confused and honestly a little annoyed. I had just picked up the order a couple of minutes prior, so it wasn't like I was running late or anything. I shrugged it off and thought it was just a mistake on their part. The address wasn't far, only about 10 minutes. It was in the less well-off neighborhood in my town, though, with pretty old and small houses. It's actually funny, though, because the customers in smaller, cheaper houses usually tipped more than the rich people. Anyway, I pulled up next to their driveway and got out

of my car, holding their bag of food. What caught my attention as I walked up their driveway was that the house had all of its lights off. It wasn't the most scary thing in the world, but it was something I took note of. When I got up to the front door, I knocked quickly and took my phone out to take a picture of it on the porch, but just as I snapped the photo, "Hey!" a man yelled from my left, standing by the corner of the house. I jumped, then awkwardly said, "Hi." He started walking

toward me, taking a key out of his pocket. "I don't know what took you so long," he said, holding the single key up and unlocking the front door. I was in disbelief. I didn't know what to do or say, so I just stood there like an idiot. "Come here! I need your help. Since you took your time driving, it'll be quick!" He waited by the door, holding it open. "Uh, no. I'm okay. I should really get back to work." The man looked angry and took a step toward me, reaching out like he was trying to

grab me. I jolted my shoulder back to avoid his hand, then backed up and walked away from the porch. Just as I got to the driveway, bright headlights flashed over me. The man by the door ran outside and around the house, leaving the front door open. As the car pulled up the driveway, it turned out to be the homeowners returning from dinner. The man I met at the door didn't live there, and the homeowners had no idea who he was or how he had gotten a key to their house. We called the police and explained

the situation to them. Knowing everything now, though, it made more sense why the man wanted me to rush to the house. He probably knew that the homeowners could be back at any minute, and he wanted to have enough time to do whatever it was he was going to do to me before they got back. I still don't have any answers for what happened that night or what was going to happen, and I don't think I ever will, but I have stopped doing deliveries. I drive for Postmates three to four days a week, depending on my

other work schedule. Driving is my relaxing side job that I do to help pay for extra things I want, like vacations or clothes, while my other job pays for my more necessary bills, like rent. So I never take delivery driving too seriously. I just go about it, and if I don't end up making a lot of money one night, it's no big deal. On this day, I started right when I got out of work. Around eight, by ten, I had actually made a decent amount of cash—more than most nights. Although I'd usually stop around this

time, why call it quits when I was doing well? I decided to keep going until I either got too tired or the orders stopped coming in. I accepted the next order and continued to the restaurant. It was a medium-sized order from Wendy's with a regular tip—nothing uncommon. I drove through and picked it up, then clicked "Start route" on my phone to give me directions to the customer's house, except it wasn't to a house; it was a GPS location set near a grocery store, 15 minutes away. Away! I'd had plenty of deliveries ordered to grocery stores

or other places of work from the employees, but it was only odd because they didn't put the store as the address; they used an exact location instead. Anyway, I started the drive up there. When I got to the parking lot by the grocery store, I noticed it was empty. I pulled right up to the front and parked, then got out with the food. I took a look around but was pretty sure the store was closed. I texted the customer, letting them know I was at the store. They replied right away, saying they were around the

building in the back and that I should see them right when I rounded the corner. I was definitely skeptical, but I got back in my car and drove around the store. There didn't seem to be anything there, just a couple of parked cars in the far back by one of the other stores. I stopped and looked but still didn't see anyone. This was when I started to get a really uneasy feeling. I was thinking this may not be worth it and put the car back in drive, but then my phone started buzzing. "Hey, we're coming

up right now. Be there in just a minute," a man said, hanging up right after. I looked around again, feeling even more uncomfortable; something just wasn't sitting right with me. I made a short U-turn and started to go back the way I came until someone ran in front of my car, holding their hands out in a stop motion. I braked, and they came up to my window. "Hey, you have my order." I grabbed the bag and rolled down the window, handing it to him, but he didn't take it. I felt dumb holding the bag out

while he just looked at me. Then I heard a quiet footstep from the other side of the car before the back door suddenly swung open. I dropped the bag outside the window and floored it as the guy by my window yelled at me to stop. I guess whoever was at the back door had jumped into my car. As I pulled away, he reached forward, trying to shift my car into park, but after failing a few times, he jumped out of the moving car onto the pavement. I saw him get up and both of them running

away as I turned the corner and got out of there. The police were of no help, saying they would do what they could but never giving me any updates. I was stupid to have fallen for their trap, but I don't think I was the only one. Doing some research, just two weeks before my incident, a delivery driver went missing during an active delivery in a nearby town. There were no leads on what happened, as the driver's car was never found either. I think this might have been those same two men doing something terrible that I

can't even begin to imagine. I was a delivery driver for Pizza Hut during college. A bunch of my buddies from school also worked there, so it was laid back and sometimes even fun. It would get really busy with deliveries up until seven to eight o'clock, then it would have a sudden drop-off in orders. Our place accepted delivery orders until 11, then would only accept pickup orders until 12. It was a Saturday night, so it was busier than most other days, but after 9:30, there were no more orders. We had someone pick up an order around

10:15, but we had nothing else until 10:50 when the phone started ringing. "Hello, this is Pizza Hut." I waited for a second; I could hear light breathing on the other side, but they weren't responding. "Hello?" Finally, a woman started speaking. She was talking quietly and had a shaky voice. She asked for a small pepperoni pizza to be delivered to her address. I said okay, and just before I hung up, something in me made me ask if she was okay. There was just something off about the way she was talking. She said she was just fine

and hung up. I sent the order through, and 15 minutes later, I got on the road. The house was a couple of blocks away, and there were no other cars out, so I got there in just a few minutes. As I drove up their driveway and parked, I saw a heavy light coming from around the garage where the front door was. I got the pizza and the receipt ready, and as I looked back, I saw the light constantly going in and out like someone was walking in front of it. I rounded the garage and realized

the light was coming from inside the house, shining out the open front door. I stepped onto the porch, and before I even reached the door, I heard footsteps rushing down some stairs inside. Then a man came into the doorway. He was a tall, heavy-set, bald man, but what was really weird was that he was completely out of breath. He was taking big, exhausted breaths and had sweat dripping from his head. Sure, he could have just been working out, but the expression on his face just made it all the more unnerving. He looked angry and frustrated,

like he didn't want me to be there. I don't think I've ever seen someone that unhappy that their pizza arrived. I asked him if the order was correct since he obviously wasn't the one who placed it, which then made me think back to the woman on the phone. Putting everything together made for an uncomfortable possible scenario in my head. I said the total and handed the man the receipt. "Hold on, I need my wallet," he said, walking down the hall toward what I assumed was the kitchen. As I waited for a moment, I heard a

quiet sound coming from inside the house upstairs—a dull thump, like someone was hitting the wall. I heard it again, louder this time, and seconds later, the man came rushing down the hallway, grabbing the box from my hands and throwing cash at me, then slammed the door in my face. I stood there in shock for a second, hearing the man's footsteps rushing upstairs. I couldn't hear much else, so I walked back to my car while processing everything. Once I got out of their driveway, I drove a minute down the road, then pulled over. I decided it

best to call the police and just give them all the information I had and ask them to do a checkup to make sure it was all okay. When I got back to Pizza Hut, I told my friends about the unusual situation. They thought it was odd too, but none of them seemed worried about it. The rest of my shift went by fast, and I got home at 12:15. Not long after, I got a call; it was an officer who did a wellness check on the woman that I said was at the house. Only he said

there was no woman at all. He described the man, but he was allowed inside the home and never saw anyone else. The man said he lived alone and had no idea what woman I was talking about. I know what I heard, though. Someone else was in that house, and it was definitely a woman who called the place to order. The fact that the man was lying about things I was 100% sure about made me really uneasy. The cop told me that there wasn't much else to be done unless something else came up. It's been a

long time since this all happened, but I still think back to it. I could be blowing it all out of proportion, but there's a big part of me that doesn't think so. I'm a truck driver for a moving company on the East Coast. We specialize in cross-country moving, typically moving people to the far West Coast, which can take anywhere from 20 to 40 hours depending on the locations. I only did the driving for the company, not any of the boxing or loading, so the actual job was 100% just driving and picking up or dropping off

the trailer at the houses. I'd been working with this company for almost four years at the time. This job was like every other. I got to the pickup address and loaded up the trailer full of the customers' belongings. This was a 30-hour drive in total, which I would do with two to three short rest stops. The hardest states to drive through are in the Midwest, specifically Iowa and Nebraska. There's absolutely nothing there; it's just dead roads with endless fields of grass beside them. It makes for a very boring and therefore tiring drive. As I passed

through the Iowa border into Nebraska, the sun had just set, and I had been on the road for about 20 hours. I took a short break a couple of states back but was just about ready for another. My eyes were heavy, and I could feel the drowsiness coming in, but a few more miles down, I saw something on the side of the road. A car was stopped off to the side of my lane with its headlights on. It was a narrow road, so I slowed down to carefully pass. As I did, I noticed the exhaust

was steaming, so the car was still running. There was also a man leaning against the driver door and looking right at me. I passed by and gave him a nod, but as I got further down the road, I saw him get back into the car. It was very strange for someone to be sitting on the side of an empty road with a car that still runs. He didn't look like he was in any sort of trouble; he looked like he was waiting. I checked my mirrors often, but the car's headlights disappeared behind me. After a

few minutes, I was a bit more awake now, but my eyes still felt heavy. Only a mile or so more down the road, I saw another car. This one was sideways in the middle of the road, and as I got closer, I saw another vehicle on the side; it was a large box van. I wasn't sure exactly of the situation, but seeing that gave me a bad feeling. I eased into my brakes, but the car stayed in the middle of the road, so I was forced to come to a full stop. I was maybe 20

yards away and could see multiple men standing along the road and one man in front of the car. I'd have to be the dumbest person in the world to not understand what this was at this point. With no better options, I started moving the truck backward. The men stayed where they were with this horrifying confidence. Then a light shined behind me as a car approached, blocking the way back. A man got out of the car, sprinting to the back of my trailer, and at the same time, all of the men in front started sprinting at

me too. In that instant, my mind went blank, and all of my adrenaline took over. I slammed on the gas as I heard a pop on the back of the trailer and the doors swung open. The men in front yelled and tried to stand in my way, but once they saw I wasn't stopping, they jumped to the side of the road. I rammed right into the car, knocking it off the road and completely destroying it. A few gunshots sounded in the distance. "But none hit. I could hear cargo falling out of the trailer for the

next five miles before I was able to call the police and meet an officer on the road. Of course, this was a total mess, but as it all unfolded, it turned out to be much more than just a random act of robbery. When police arrived at the scene, the car I had slammed into was left behind, damaged beyond drivable. With it, they tracked down one of the members of the attackers, who gave up information on the others. They had information on the rich homeowners that were moving and planned to stop me and steal all of

the belongings with their box fan. They never said what exactly they would have done to me after they robbed the truck, but I don't think it's a stretch to assume that it would have been a lot easier for them to not leave any loose ends. I was driving for Domino's Pizza delivery; it was a slow night, so I was actually spending a decent amount of time inside the shop waiting for orders to come in for me to deliver. Just after 10 PM, a man walked in and came up to the counter. He looked like he

was in his early 30s but was extremely sleep-deprived and maybe even drunk. My co-worker was at the counter helping him with the order, and I was standing in the back organizing the pizza boxes. After seeing his appearance, I listened in on their conversation. He seemed timid and uneasy about something as he made a simple request for a medium pizza. But then he added on that he'd like it to be delivered and handed my co-worker a slip of paper. Right after the order was sent through, the man walked out. The paper just had an address written

on it, but it was kind of odd because who wouldn't remember their own address? Also, it's not every day that you get a customer coming into the shop to order for delivery to their house. Anyway, ten minutes later, I boxed up the pizza and got on the road. It didn't take long for me to notice a strange car behind me. It was the only other car on the road, and they were constantly speeding up and slowing down like they were having trouble staying at the same speed. Once I saw them swerving, too, the first thing

I thought was that they were drunk and how the man at the shop looked drunk, too. It seems stupid now, but at the time I really thought it was just a coincidence. When I got to the neighborhood, the car behind me pulled off to the side of the road and parked. Thirty seconds later, I pulled into the driveway of what looked like any other house and stepped up to the front porch. I knocked, then knocked again, and after a couple of minutes of waiting, someone finally answered—a different man from the one I'd seen at the

shop who ordered the pizza. "I have a Domino's delivery for Matthew." The man stared at me with very wide open eyes, and I noticed that he looked very similar to the way the other man looked: sleep-deprived and drunk. It took him a few seconds to respond. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Thank you," he said quietly, reaching out for the pizza. I gave it to him, and he looked at me like he was going to say something else, but he didn't. He just continued with his dull look. I then turned around and saw a guy in a

hood jogging down the sidewalk just two houses away, but he was looking right at us. I quickly went back to my car, and the man at the door stepped out onto the porch like he was going to follow me. I got in and started backing out, but the guy in the hood went right behind my car to block me from leaving. The other one then started running toward me, and in the heat of the moment, I just stepped on the pedal to go in reverse. The guy behind the car jumped out of the way at

the last second, and both of them started yelling and chasing my car onto the road. In the streetlight, it became clear that the man in the hood was the guy who came into the pizza shop with them; still running at the front of my car, though I had to reverse dangerously fast down the street until I could safely make a three-point turn and get away. I called the cops, and within the hour, both men were arrested for attempted robbery. Their plan was clearly made while drunk because they thought that by ordering at the shop, we

somehow wouldn't think it was them since it was a delivery order, even though we had their name and address. It really made no sense, but according to the record, they had pulled multiple robberies before, and one of them resulted in the victim getting beaten up in a parking lot for no reason. Two drunk guys running at me with bad intentions could have escalated into something horrible, but I was glad to have gotten away without any harm, and thankfully, they won't be able to do this to anyone else. I used to work for my best friend's

parents' restaurant. I did deliveries for them; I would sometimes help clean tables or whatever, too. The job in itself was fine, but it felt very uncomfortable to have my friend's parents as my boss. I thought it wouldn't be too bad after a while, but it just never got better. They hated every time something wouldn't go exactly as planned, and they also scheduled me and my friend on opposite days, so it didn't even feel like we worked together." Which was the whole point of me taking the job. This happened during my third and final month working

there. It was a regular night to start, getting a few quick deliveries, but it really slowed down toward the back half of the night. My friend's dad hated it when it was slow because I’d be standing around waiting for orders, and he’d always be grumpy about it, even though it wasn't my fault. Around 8:30, which was an hour since my last delivery and 30 minutes until the end of my shift, he picked up a phone call, and I overheard him say that we could deliver afterwards. He made the food and handed me the bag to

deliver, but when I searched the address up, it was 40 minutes away. Of course, I complained because by then my shift was over in 15 minutes, and this delivery would take nearly an hour and a half. But he didn't care. I could tell he was just upset about me waiting around, which again was not my fault. After a brief argument, I did as he said. 40 minutes was pretty far away for our small town, so I had no idea where this address was. By the time I was two minutes away, it was just before 10

PM. There were no houses nearby from what I could see until the last minute of the drive when it had me turn down a small street that led to a row of maybe six houses. They all looked old and outdated, and they were the only houses I’d seen in the last five minutes of driving. I slowly passed by each house and looked at their numbers until I found the right one. Then I parked on the street right next to the driveway. I'm not gonna lie; this place gave me some spooky vibes. It was so far

from everything, and the houses themselves were just old and creepy. I got out and brought the bag up to the doorstep, then rang the doorbell. Nobody came to the door, so I tried knocking. It was late, and I wanted to get this over with, so I was getting impatient. As I waited, I looked around. The street had no cars on it or in any of the driveways, and none of the actual lights were on inside any of the houses. I carried the bag back to my car and called the customer's cell. They didn't pick up,

so I just sat in my car and tried to think of what to do next. They hadn't paid for the food yet, so I couldn't just leave it on their doorstep. Then I saw a light move around inside the house. I got out and saw the light move through the downstairs windows and over to the front door, then it turned off. A second later, the door opened. There was a young man, early twenties, standing in the doorway holding a large flashlight in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. I walked up and asked

if he had ordered the food. He nodded and apologized for taking so long to answer the door. I said it was all right and tried to hand him the bag, but he just held up both of his hands to show me they were full. He then asked if I'd kindly put the food on the kitchen table for him. I wasn't sure if he was joking or not at first because he easily could have just put the flashlight or grocery bag down for a second, but then I realized he was serious. I peeked around him, and

from the short entryway, I could tell that there was something off about this place. It was dusty all over, and it looked empty. Once I saw that and thought about the flashlight being used instead of the regular house lights, I was almost sure that this place was a vacant house. The man was still looking at me and waiting for a response. "Sorry, I'm actually in a rush. If you could just pay really quick, then I'll leave the bag right here on your porch." He didn't like that answer, and he showed it with his face. He

set down the grocery bag and took one step out of the doorway and onto the porch. I backed up so as to not be too close to him. There was something in his eyes that told me he was about to do something, and I wasn't going to wait for whatever that was to happen. I dropped the bag and sprinted for my car, driving away as the man watched me intently from the porch. I was shaking for most of the drive back, unsure of what could have just happened. Of course, though, when I told my friend's

dad about what happened, all he seemed to care about was that I didn't make the man pay. For that reason, I just quit right there on the spot. I knew my friend would be upset, but I’d had enough of his parents being dicks to me for doing nothing wrong. After that, that was pretty heated, and I was thinking more about that than I was about the man who lured me to a vacant house and likely tried to rob me, or even worse. Being so distracted, I never called the police—not until it was too late, anyway.

Thankfully, I wasn't dumb enough to go inside the house, though, because if I had, I probably never would have returned from that delivery. I drive a van for work, delivering products to a few family-owned stores around my city. On a night just four months ago, I was driving my route between three stores to do some after-hour deliveries. It was about 11 PM, and I had just finished the last delivery for the night. From there, the warehouse I had to... "Drop the van off was 30 minutes away. I drove for maybe five minutes until a car

pulled up behind me at an intersection. There were no other cars out, just me and them. When the light turned green, I started driving, and it wasn't until a few more minutes down the road that I realized they were still right behind me. I was in a big, slow van, so most people would just go around me, but they didn't. I wasn't worried or anything, but it was odd. As we continued driving, their headlights steadily got brighter and brighter until they were so close that the light was being blocked by the back of my van.

They had to be just a foot or two away from my bumper. The lane next to us was open, so they could easily have gone around, but instead, they chose to tailgate me, which then started making me nervous. I slowed down to a stop sign; it was going to turn just to get away from them. But just as I stopped, the car behind me bumped into my van. The crash wasn't bad, but it was enough to shake the whole van and push me forward a bit, which I knew had to cause some damage. I put

my van in park and unbuckled, about to get out to see the damage, but a man was already at my window. He was smiling and motioning to talk to me. I opened the door, and as I stepped out, I saw two more guys at the back of my van, both looking at me. The man started to give excuses as we walked over to look at the bumper, but it became obvious that he was very drunk. His words were hard to make out, and he didn't seem very bothered about crashing into me at all. The other

guys looked intoxicated too, just from how they were moving, but I didn't know for sure. My van and his car looked a lot worse than I thought. I asked the man for his insurance and went to get mine, but when I got back, I realized none of them had moved. I asked again for his insurance, but all of them just looked at me without saying anything. There was this moment of me looking at them as they stared at me in silence before my heart started racing. I turned to run back to my van, but instantly,

I heard all of their footsteps coming up behind me. I didn't even make it to the door before one of them grabbed me and shoved me against the side of the van. The one holding me was making threats while the others went back and forth, piling up everything in their car. After a minute of having my head pressed against the side, he shoved me away and started forcing me to walk toward their car. The other guys finished taking what they could and got in the car, telling the man behind me to hurry up as he

opened the back door and tried pushing me into the back seat. I knew that if I let him get me in that car, I would likely never be seen again. I put all of my strength into fighting back, doing everything I could to make it as difficult as possible to get me inside. After a 20-second struggle, he tossed me away and got in himself. Then they drove off. I got up and ran to get my phone from the center console, then called the police. The men who attacked me couldn't be identified and still haven't been.

It was hard to say if it was a one-time drunk attack or something they had done before. What they planned to do by bringing me in the car with them is also a mystery, but I think we all know what would have been the most likely outcome."