Nocturnal Pokemon Go Players, Look After Yourselves out There

By Chef MCDexX

//Source.

[EDIT: Someone PMed me a similar experience and I have added it beneath my OP.]

I just had the absolute crap scared out of me while walking around playing Pokemon Go late at night. I can’t be sure anything truly weird happened, because it was dark and I might have let my imag ination run away with me, but damn, did it ever give my spine a tingle.

Some background: I live in the northern suburbs of Melbourne, in an old, established suburb that tends to be very quiet. There’s no crime to speak of, apart from the occasional burglary, and it’s perfectly safe to walk around at night. It’s very green, with lots of old trees, and there’s a beautiful creek reserve running down one side of it. It’s a really nice place to live.

I got into Pokemon Go a few weeks ago, and it’s been great for getting me to get out there and exercise. My Fitbit reports that my steps per day have more than doubled since I started playing, meaning it’s the most effective exercise tool I’ve used in years.

For those who haven’t played, Pokemon Go is a free game played on your mobile phone. You walk around the real world and “catch” little digital creatures, which you then train up and use to fight other players’ creatures. You also collect eggs, and have to walk long distances to hatch them.

Anyway, tonight I went out walking in the dead of night because I had a few eggs to hatch, so I figured I’d get some exercise and see if I could finish them off, and maybe catch a few new Pokemon while I was at it.

I was about four blocks from home when I decided I’d walked enough and it was time to head back. I decided to cover some different ground, so I took a left, intending to walk around the block and head home on a different street. So, there I was, walking along this cross-street, phone held out in front of me with the screen on, and about to turn left and head back toward home.

From my right, across the road, I heard a really weird noise, kind of a whimpering combined with a rasping noise. I looked, but there was a big old tree casting a shadow from the streetlight, so it was just a pool of darkness that my eyes couldn’t penetrate. My first thought was that a big dog had gotten out of its yard, and I worried it might be vicious. There have been a dozen or so cases of dogs getting out and mauling people at night in the last decade or so in Melbourne, so it was a real (if remote) risk.

Then I heard the scuff of a shoe on concrete, and i realised someone walking walking towards me through the patch of darkness. I could very faintly see just a pair of legs in silhouette, but nothing else. I got a vague sense of a very tall, very skinny man, but not unnaturally so (we’re not talking Slendy here, just a tall-ish, skinny-ish regular person).

What really freaked me out, though, was the noise he (?) was making. I had mistaken it for a dog whimpering, but it was him. He was kind of squeaking in a high-pitched voice, but it was muffled and oddly strangled. I was frozen for a few seconds as he walked closer, then I decided, fuck it, I was turning my back on him and heading home at a very brisk walk.

As I walked, I could hear him behind me, still making those weird muffled squeaks, and occasionally I could hear his shoes scraping on the footpath. I’m a big guy, fairly imposing to look at (so I’ve been told) so I very rarely feel unsafe when out at night, but this guy was freaking me right out. I didn’t want to look back, but I found I couldn’t keep walking with this freak behind me and not at least get a look at him and see how far behind me he was.

So, without slowing down, I turned and looked. He was about 15 metres behind me (50 feet or so) and even though he was out from under the shadow of the tree and had crossed the road, all I could see of him was a silhouette. A rational part of my brain was trying to tell me that he was just listening to music and was singing along (VERY badly) and he thought he was being quiet and didn’t realise I could hear him, but I couldn’t see any headphones on his head. He was just a black shape, but I was genuinely scared now.

My nerve broke, and I crossed the road. I figured, hey, at least I’ll know if me means me harm, because he’ll have to cross the road to follow me. I glanced back again as I crossed, and he was still there, 15 metres or so back, and he was still just a silhouette. I honestly couldn’t tell you an age, or a racial background. He was a shadow, nothing more. That wouldn’t have been the most unnerving thing about him, if it wasn’t for that damned whimpering noise he kept making.

I finished crossing and just walked faster, going as quickly as I could without breaking into a run. I can walk at a pretty brisk pace, but that high-pitched murmuring was still behind me, and seemed to be louder. I was on the edge of panic now, and I looked back one more time.

He was right behind me. Without making any scuffing sounds on the path, he had closed in right behind me. He was less than 5 metres away, about the length of a big sedan, and he was still making that creepy whimpering sound.

Part of me was determined that this was all completely rational, and it said, okay, he’s seen my phone, and I’m about to be mugged. That’s all this is, just a guy, probably a drug addict, who wants to steal my phone. I was trying to suppress the other parts of my mind that were screaming that something was very wrong and this definitely wasn’t just a mugging.

I looked forward again, and tried to walk faster, then the noise behind me stopped. “Here it comes,” I thought, and glanced behind.

He was gone. The footpath behind me was empty. I nearly tripped over in surprise. He had vanished in less than two seconds. I looked into the front yard he had been right beside, but I couldn’t see him.

It felt like a trap, like I was meant to drop my guard, but I didn’t care. I got out of there at top speed, jogged the last two blocks home, and didn’t feel safe until I was inside with the door locked.

That’s it. Like I said, most of it could have been my imagination, but several elements really felt off. The sudden burst of speed was the most worrying. He closed two-thirds of the distance between us in just a few seconds without making any noise. It was freaky.

SHIT

Okay, that scared me. I heard a soft, high-pitched sigh from right behind me and nearly jumped out of my chair. It was my cat snoring. Jesus, I nearly had a heart attack!

So yes, I’m pretty spooked right now. That freaky noise he made was the worst thing. It honestly sounded like someone with a gag over the mouth asking for help – high-pitched, muffled, and weirdly pleading. I know it’s possible he was just the world’s worst singer, but damn, he really managed to spook me quite thoroughly.

If anyone else has had any odd encounters while out hunting Pokemon late at night, please share them here or PM them. If I really like your story, I will edit it onto the end of this post.

Thanks for reading all. Now, I’m going to TRY to get some sleep…


EDIT: Adding a PM I just received

[Okay, I am now freaking right out. I just received this PM, and a few details in it are… well, read for yourself. I’ve deleted the username and removed some identifying things to protect the user’s privacy, but this is otherwise unedited. Wow, chills down my spine right now.]

Hey mcdexx (weird name lol). My friend M- showed me your story.

I want to share my story with you. Its like yours a LOT.

I’m not a big guy like you, just a girl, turn 17 in Oct, so I go pokehunting with my girlfriends. Theres 5 of us who go together on and off, but on Saturday night it was just me and M- cuz the others went to this movie festival thing. We’re in Adelaide which is a lot like where you live– lots of parks, safe, not much crime. Still I wouldnt do it alone just in case.

Sat night M- and me did a big walk around the city looking for pokemons and taking gyms (mystic 4eva lol!!!) and someone on FB said they seen charizard in the botanic garden so we took an uber over there. It was late by then, about 2am and yeah technically the garden was closed for the night but M- and me found an open gate. (Trespassing playing poke-go, guilty yr honor! lol) Even though it was closed and we werent sposed to be there we met a few people w/ their phones out. They asked us if we knew where the charizard was and we said we were looking for it too!

So anyway me and M- ended up on our own way back deep into the gardens. No charizard but we did find a pokestop with a lure on it [MCDexX here: a lure is an item in Pokemon Go that you can put onto a communal Pokestop to attract more Pokemon to capture]. We thought there’d be a few people at the lure but there was nobody. We sat on a bench and used the lure a while– caught my first poliwrath which was pretty cool.

Heres where it got weird. The lure ended and we were going to go home and give up on the charizard but just as we stood up off the bench another pokestop further into the gardens lit up all pink with a fresh lure. M- and me kinda looked at eachother and said, whatever, so we went to the pokestop. Nobody there either! Just me and M-! That was strange huh? I mean SOMEONE has to put the lures down right???

So I felt kinda weird but then a flareon spawned and i was so excited i forgot to feel scared. (I know…dumb right) Time went on and it was almost 3am when that lure ended so M- and me were REALLY ready to go to bed but then it happened again– just when the lure ended, we saw another stop furhter in go pink with a fresh lure. We were both a bit freaked by then– it really felt like some one was using the lures to lure US. M- wanted to run but I said no, lets go check it out but quietly.

So we tiptoed (yah really properly tiptoed lol) down close to the stop with the new lure– we hid behind a bush and looked over to the place with the stop. It was this fountain thing with flower beds around it and there were no lights but we were sure that there was nobody there AGAIN. M- and me looked at eachother again and we were done. Time to go! So we turned round and just started fastwalking to the gate we came in.

Thats when we heard that weird noise. It was like a little girl humming really badly like she is trying to sing really high but is the worst singer. I looked behind but nobody was there so we just walked faster– wanted to get out of there quick smart! We never saw anyone but the humming noise kept going behind us and we were starting to freak.

You probably saw this coming: the gate was close and locked. We looked at it and decided to climb over– it was tall and kinda spiky on top but M- and I both did gymnastics at school and were good climbers. We put our phones in our handbags and poked them through and I climbed first. VERY glad I was wearing jeans that night. I got to the top and flipped over and thats when I looked back where wed come from and someone was there. I couldn’t see them good because they were in the shadow of a tree, but I could see their shoes– scratched up brown boots like work boots. I noticed the humming had got louder too. I said to M- “CLIMB OVER NOW!!! DON’T ARGUE!!!” He (I say ‘he’ but I don’t really know) was maybe 20 m away.

I looked down so I wouldn’t land on our handbags when I dropped down, and when I looked up HE WAS CLOSER. Didn’t make any noise like stepping on dead leaves of sticks and he must have been REALLY fast. Now he was 10 m away and the weird humming was really loud. I didn’t think it sounded like a little girl singing badly anymore– it sounded like a woman with someones hand over her mouth trying to call out for help.

“M-!!! MOVE IT NOW!!!” I screamed. She flipped over the top of the fence and I picked up both our handbags and started to back away from the fence. Then M- screamed. I looked back and the guy was RIGHT AT THE GATE. M- screamed and fell on her butt and then kinda crab-walked backwards away from the gate. The high pitch humming was REALLY loud. “I got your bag! Let’s go NOW!!!” I said and M- got up and we RAN. I havent run so fast since sports days in school. SO scared.

We didn’t want to stand around waiting for an uber so we jumped straight in a taxi even though it costs more. We went back to M-‘s place and couldn’t sleep so we put on the Titanic DVD and both fell asleep on the couch.

One more thing– M- told me next morning that she screamed twice when the guy was at the gate because, first time, he surprised her so she just screamed with shock, but second time because she saw his face just for a second. She told me “Maybe it was just dark and I was scared but I swear he ONLY HAD EYES. There was no nose and no mouth. Just two big eyes. And he was CRYING.”

So yeah I’m done with pokehunting in the park after dark and I might never go in the botanic garden again even in the daytime. That was the scariest shit I have ever seen.


MCDexX again. There you go. I can’t vouch for the truth in that PM, but you can see for yourself that it’s weirdly like my experience and I have goosebumps all over my arms again re-reading it. Jesus, what the HELL is going on out there???

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Never Answer the Door After Midnight

   By Chef MrBaubas

I’ve never been a social person. If asked, I could name all of my acquaintances in a single breath and count my friends on one hand. Not to say that I hate people. I love people. It’s just that I get really bad anxiety when it comes to talking. If any aspect of a conversation catches me off guard, if I haven’t mentally prepared myself, then I shut down. I can’t think no matter what I do. It feels like my head is weighted and I’m drowning in burning sand.

I’ve tried fixing this problem before. Believe me I’ve tried. I’ve given it a shot at everything from self-help books and meditation to exposure therapy and the ever present advice, “Stop being a pussy.” Nothing works. As you can imagine I’ve messed up more than my fair share of job interviews because of this. In fact the only job I managed to get was a night janitor’s position at my old high school. It made sense really, I knew the building so the learning curve was easy and since I was there at night I didn’t have to worry about running into anyone. It was a perfect fit.

Due to my work schedule however, I usually found myself awake at night even when I wasn’t working. My whole circadian rhythm was messed up.

So there I sat, alone in my one room ground floor apartment at 3 am on a Friday. I finished work early and had the whole weekend to myself. So I settled in with a movie and was winding down when there was a knock at the door.

I quickly muted the movie and turned. It was a faint knocking that I almost didn’t hear. I had to sit in silence just to make sure that I actually heard something. It knocked again. Someone was definitely there. I briefly questioned whether I should answer. The low intensity of the knock made me uneasy. The only reason I could figure someone would knock on a door at 3 in the morning that softly would be to see if there were any dogs inside.

Burglars.

Freaked by this thought I turned the television off. I didn’t want even that slight ringing sound a muted television makes to escape.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden dark. The white of the front door stuck out from the shadows casting a ghastly glow while I sat. The knocking continued. It wouldn’t cease. The gloom around me shifted with imagined horrors as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

Though the door was closed I couldn’t help but feel watched. Either someone knew that I was home, or they were insane. I didn’t want to know but the knocking was incessant. I had to check it out.

I crept through the dark careful to avoid making the floorboards cry out. Once I’d made it to the door I carefully placed my hands on either side of the wall and leaned forward. I had to avoid putting pressure on the door or I’d give myself away. As I leaned toward the peephole the knocking came right by my head. As close as I was it sounded like thunder in my ears. It took everything I had to keep from shouting out. Slowly I lifted the brass latch over the peephole inching it with glacial speed so it wouldn’t squeak. When it was secure I allowed myself a deep breath. I had darkness to my back and uncertainty before me, I looked.

There on the other side of the door, in the dead of winter, stood a man who had managed to avoid making any footprints in the snow behind him.

Even in the dark I could make out the details on him. He was dressed in all white. Short sleeves and a hat with a black band on it. It took me a few seconds to realize what he was.

A milkman, but not quite.

His appearance was haggard. His clothes were filthy, stained with sweat and somehow streaked with dirt. The right leg of his pants was ripped to the knee and his belt was hastily fastened leaving it dangling about his waist. He looked like a 50s era milkman who was in a rush to get dressed.

The color was drained from his face and his yellowed eyes were gaunt as if sick. They were sunken in his skull with dark sagging bags. Yet in the middle of his forehead sat a perfect circle, dark in contrast to his pale skin.

He stood silently for a moment before taking his hat off. He ran a scraggy hand through greasy brittle locks then worriedly looked behind him. As he turned I saw the back of his head and instantly knew what the circle was. A large portion of it had been blown out, the entry in his forehead reciprocated in a grisly display of ripped flesh and shattered bone. Skin hung in tatters around the cavity and chunks of pink and red dripped out in gooey clumps. This was no burglar.

A gasp escaped my lips and he quickly turned. He knocked again, this time louder.

“Is someone there?” He asked nervously. “Can I come in?”

I pulled myself away from the door incredulous. This couldn’t be happening. I was just sleep deprived or something. This wasn’t possible. At least, this is what I tried telling myself. The growing lump in my throat however didn’t buy it.

“You’re home early,” his tone was different, confused. It was as if he was suddenly talking to someone else. “Why are you home so early?”

My breathing started to pick up and I slowly backed away from the door. I tiptoed away staring at the nocturnal blue glow coming from the still open peephole. A phone, I needed a phone.

He kept talking as his knocking grew louder. “Come on open the door already.”

I fumbled through the dark like a blind man until I reached the couch. I reached down and on the middle cushion my phone sat. I grabbed it and hit the screen unlock. Nothing. The phone wouldn’t come on.

“Why were you home so early? You shouldn’t be here.”

I pulled the battery pack out and put it back in, still nothing. Maybe I was hitting the wrong button because I couldn’t see? I flicked on a small lamp expecting the room to be illuminated. The lamp wouldn’t come on either. I tried another and was met with the same result, in fact nothing powered on.

“This isn’t what you think, just open up.” He jiggled the handle.

I sat in the dark watching the door shake. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t call for help and there was only one way out. His voice was pained and he sounded impatient. I still get chills thinking about it. Why was he so nervous?

“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked angry. “Fine. I see how it is…” The knocking stopped.

Seconds stretched into agonizing minutes of silence. It seemed like time crawled on broken fingers as I sat there. Had he really gone? Nothing turned back on yet I couldn’t hear anything from outside.

When ten minutes had passed I got up to check the peephole.

I put my eye to the aperture and was met with a sight I dreaded. On the other side of the door the specter stood staring straight at me with a look of pure hatred. He slammed his fists on the door and started screaming as I fell back. The entryway shuddered under his assault and dust rained from the ceiling.

“I knew it!” he screamed in a shrill voice “You were hiding from me! Now open the door!”

The handle violently exploded into movement as he pushed and pulled. Furiously he beat on the door and it seemed the whole apartment came alive with noise.

“Open up! Open this fucking door damn it! I swear to god I’ll kill you!”

I scuttled away as fast as I could eventually backing into the side of the couch. I stared wide eyed as he bombarded the door like a raving beast. He was angry, beyond furious but he kept diverging, his voice switching from demonic to frightened.

“Why? Oh Christ why are you home so early!?” he nearly sobbed.

I could hear wood groan as the door started to give.

“Open this door! Open it! Open it! Open it!” each shout was followed by pounding.

I curled up in a ball quickly losing my mind. Nobody was hearing this. I was alone without a chance at help. He grabbed the handle with both hands again and pulled back and forth letting out a howl. The latch to the peephole flew up and down as it clattered against the wood noisily.

There was a final crash against the door and he began crying in frustration.

“Please!” I heard him say. “It’s not what you think!”

My eyes were shut tightly as he cried out. His voice was now pure fear. It sounded as if he was being murdered. “Don’t do this to me, I’m begging you please!” he was breaking down almost completely incoherent. Then a noise resonated that immediately caught my attention. It was a gun cocking.

Oh god.

A gun shot ripped through the air with the sound of bottled thunder. I could feel the pressure wave as if I was right next to the barrel. My head began throbbing violently and felt like I could throw up. There was a ringing in my ears as the smell of gun smoke wafted through the apartment.

Then silence.

There was no more banging. No more screaming or crying. The smell lingered for a moment before dissipating. I lifted my head and stared at the open peephole. The opaque light of dusk hung in the air as ceiling dust visibly filtered through it. It speared through the black of my home resting at my feet. My heart had long since leapt into my throat, but when that light was suddenly blocked out I swear I could taste the blood.

A malicious silence flitted through the air with the sound of heavy breathing. Then a voice cut through. It was a different voice this time, a cold voice. One that could have belonged to Hannibal Lector.

“Thanks for not letting him in.” It rasped.

The shaft of light returned and I heard the telltale crunching of snow as someone walked away. This time I did not get up to see who it was. Even when my lights cut back on and the migraine died away I stayed put. I don’t know what all of that was about but that second voice scared me deep in my bones. I don’t how I knew, but I could tell that as that voice was speaking its owner was smiling.