This isn’t going to be like my usual articles on the Deja Reviewer website. It’s a true story from 2004. My first year at Brigham Young University, I had an incredibly creepy experience that I’m amazed I survived.

Back then, I got in the habit of waking up extremely early and going on walks around the town of Provo, Utah. I just wanted to see what was out there and to be alone with my thoughts.

One Fall morning, I was walking along in the predawn moonlight when a fellow walker approached me and introduced himself. Knowing it was a college town with lots of transplants, he asked where I was from and what I was studying at college. I answered, and we were soon wrapped up in conversation. He was unshaven and wore a hat, but I don’t remember much else about his appearance. That just wasn’t something I paid much attention to at the time.

I mentioned my enjoyment of books and video games, and he was happy to discuss what interested me. As we talked, I subconsciously noticed that we were walking away from where I normally traversed. Most days I stayed within a half mile of my apartment complex, but now I noticed we were heading beyond that invisible bubble. I didn’t complain because I wanted to be polite. It would be awkward to ask to change direction.

He didn’t seem to have a destination in mind until we reached a dark two-story house. No lights were on inside it. As soon as we got to it, he invited me inside. For some reason, I didn’t say no. I didn’t question his motives or wonder whether or not he even owned that house. I just said, “Sure,” because I didn’t have any pressing place to be at that moment.

We went inside, and my first moment of disquiet seeped in when he apologized for the darkness. The lights weren’t working, so we’d have to settle for a flashlight. There was a great big staircase in front of the door I had just walked through. He invited me upstairs to show me some video games. I know, that’s like the classic “Free candy” sign on the side of a windowless van. But I fell for it. Despite my misgivings, I followed him upstairs and we went into the first door on the left, which was some sort of bedroom.

There was no video game system in that room, and I could feel how dark and silent everything was. The only sounds were our footsteps and breathing. It dawned on me that I was alone in a house with someone I didn’t know, and no one knew where I was or would ever find me if something went wrong. The man told me to wait right there while he went to get what he had promised to show me.

After he left, I had the sudden thought, “Get out of here!” I didn’t need to be told twice.

As if snapping out of a dream, I hurried to the door, quietly opened it, and peered out down the hallway. I didn’t see him anywhere nearby, so I figured he must have gone down to another room on that floor. To this day, I don’t know what he was actually going to get, but at the time my imagination conjured up all kinds of horrible possibilities.

Despite the fear that gripped me, at least I was right next to the stairway. That meant I had a clear path out of the house. Thankfully, the stairs weren’t squeaky, so I managed to get down without making much sound. When I reached the main floor, I heard a door open upstairs. I felt my social awkwardness bubble up, and I loudly apologized for having to go, but I had just remembered I needed to be somewhere. I guess I didn’t want him to feel bad if he had just wanted to be nice. Or maybe it was pure terror forcing words out of my tight throat.

I let myself out the front door, which wasn’t locked, and closed it behind me. Then I ran. I didn’t look back to see if he came out and tried following me. Once I was back to my familiar part of town, I relaxed a little. Something told me I had come extremely close to being no more. Even if that man hadn’t wished me harm, my naivety and foolhardy attitude could have gotten me killed the next time a stranger invited me into some strange, dark house.

I don’t remember where that house was. I was new to the area, and I didn’t pay attention to street names or house numbers. Adrenaline has a way of giving me tunnel vision. But I know I never saw that man again. There’s a reason why parents hammer into our heads, “Don’t talk to strangers.” I learned that lesson by coming close to some unknown horror. And I lived to tell the tale.

This is the Deja Reviewer wishing you a happy Halloween.

Want to Support the Deja Reviewer?

If you’d like to support the Deja Reviewer, please consider donating a few dollars to keep this site going strong. I’ll even send you an original joke if you do! Try it, and prepare to enjoy a good chuckle.

$5.00