14 People Describe Their Middle-Of-Nowhere Truck Stop Horror Stories
If you understand the freewheeling nature of life on the road, you also understand that scary truck stop stories get much more horrific than the casual observer might think. A truck stop provides a 24-hour hub for people from all walks of life pass through on their way to somewhere else, and who knows who they are or where they’re going. For all you know, they just escaped a kidnapper, or they’re Aileen Wuornos. For truckers and truck stop employees, these creepy experiences may sound like just another day or night on the job, but listening to truckers describe scary sights at truck stops should give anyone goosebumps.
These creepiest things people have seen at truck stops were described on Reddit, and they include the paranormal, the bizarre, and the downright strange. Like rest stops and the murders they get associated with, truck stops do sometimes live up to their reputations as places you might not want to find yourself alone. With tales about other truck drivers committing crimes, supernatural women, shadowy men, and some odd animal sightings, these creepy truck stop stories will ensure you use the restroom before you leave the house.
“I had just pulled into a truck stop inside Billings, Montana… I was playing slots and a beautiful American Indian girl was serving drinks. After quite a few drinks I started chatting with her on a more personal level.
“She told me that her shift ended in a few hours and that she would be behind the truck stop with a case of beer if I felt like partying (I did). I hung around the front of the building, and when everyone started filing out of the doors, I went around back to meet her. I couldn’t find her, but I found an older, Mexican woman who seemed to know my name and acted as if I had just been talking to her inside. I was buzzed, but not drunk, or stupid. I knew this wasn’t the same person. What also struck me as odd is that she had no personal belongings besides the clothes on her back. No purse, or key ring, nothing. I, starting to feel a little ‘tripped out’ because of this, began to act like I didn’t know her and didn’t want anything to do with her. She became cold and stopped trying to talk to me… okay, well that was freaking weird.
“I walk all the way back out to my truck, climb in the back, change into my sleep wear and laid on the bunk to re-read a book. Only a few minutes into the book I hear three loud bangs on the side of my sleeper, I’m talking ‘Holy-Crap Your Truck’s On Fire You Have To Get Out NOW‘ loud! I opened the curtains and rolled down the window and saw that the young American Indian woman I had been speaking with was standing next to my truck. I immediately picked up something wrong about her. It wasn’t her lack of speech, odd, disheveled look, or rigid body movements. It was her eyes that got to me. Solid black.
“I could say that the dark night coupled with a few drinks could make me think her eyes were black, but I’m not. When I hit a switch in the back of my truck, the inside lights up like a baseball stadium. Her eyes seemed to be pulling the light into them, like miniature black holes, it reminded me of when a woman wearing mascara cries and she kind of looks like a raccoon, afterwards. It looked like she had rubbed charcoal around her eyes.
“It also felt like my body was acting of its own accord, like my body was screaming at my fragile psyche to open the door and let her into my truck, despite the fact that she looked freaking terrifying and hadn’t said a single word to me since meeting her again. I remember having to choke out the word ‘No.’ It reminded me of when you’re on the verge of tears, but you choke through them to speak to someone.
“I was too damned terrified to look out my side vents to see if she was still standing outside, I was too terrified that I might have ended up looking back into darkness, only to know, in my mind’s eye, that she could be staring right back at me. I’ve got the shakes just from remembering that. “
People Describe The Creepiest Urban Legends
“I live in a smallish town about an hour south of Salt Lake City Utah. I am a 15-year-old male and professional mountain biker. I live on the south side of town, but the town is small enough I can ride my bike from one end to the other in around 30 minutes. Anyway this story happened about a year ago.
“I got in a fight with my parents about not being able to have a sleepover that night, and rode off to help get over it. As I rode up a hill to the rode that goes all the way through town, I thought of were to go. I decided I was going to go to a closed down Flying J on the other side of the town. I took off, and got there about 30 minutes later. As I was approaching the Flying J, I got an uneasy feeling. I didn’t think much of it and shook it off. But as I rode onto the property, I had another uneasy feeling. Trucks still park there at night and I had seen drivers in them as I drove past several times. “
“The first thing I noticed was none of the trucks were running and none of them had a light on. Now note it was only about 8:30 PM so it was just past dark and that’s when most trucks pull in. I know this cause my dad is a truck driver, and I had spent two months with him on the truck that summer. I started just riding around to the back of the parking lot with that uneasy feeling getting stronger the farther I went into the parking lot. About half-way through I noticed a dark figure standing by one of the trucks. I couldn’t tell if it was looking at me or not but I thought it was just a driver getting some fresh air. As I started getting closer I noticed I could see through the figure and see the air intake on the side of the truck. For those of you who don’t know where that is, it is right in front of the doors on both sides, and looks like a big barrel.
“As I got even closer to the figure, I suddenly felt like someone had slugged me in the gut with dread. I looked back up at the figure and it was gone…I looked back where I was going and a seven-foot tall completely black figure stood in front of me and had red eyes like fire balls floating in mid air. My quick mountain-biking reflexes made me swerve to the side of the figure. I started peddling as fast as I could and went around a row of trucks. I looked back and the figure was chasing me. I changed to a higher gear and started to get away from the figure. As I rode past the fence I looked back, and it was stopped right behind the fence.
“I rode back home as fast as I could. I didn’t tell my parents cause they wouldn’t believe me. The next day I was hanging out with some friends and told them about it. One of them said they knew kids who used Ouija boards and did really bad stuff there at night. I shook it off, until this year when my dad’s trucking company bought the lot. I have to go there late at night to help my dad unload and tarp trucks. Almost every time I’m there, I see that figure standing by something, staring at me.”
“My uncle was a truck driver for many years… He spent several years doing cross-country trips, often loading up his trailer in the middle of the night. While he waited for his trailer to be loaded he’d make his way over to a nearby truck stop, have a late night meal, and shoot the sh*t with any other drivers there. After a while, he would make friends with drivers that were on a somewhat similar schedule. He befriended this particular guy that he would run into about once a month or so.
“One night the guy invites him back to his semi. He wants to show him something he’s built. This guy’s semi has a sleeper on the back, so it’s pretty big. Basically it’s a semi-truck with a small room right behind the driver to sleep in. My uncle is intrigued by what kind of custom work this guy has done so he goes along with him.
“Once they’re in the truck the guy show him what he’s built in the sleeper of his semi. It’s a big, heavy duty box. Apparently it has hydraulic arms on either side so he can open and close it with the push of a button. He says once he pushes the button it seals shut, it can’t be opened. My uncle is kind of weirded out by this and cracks a few jokes about the box. The guy starts to get a little agitated. My uncle realizes this and decides it’s time to leave this guy’s semi.
“A few months later he finds out that the guy was a serial killer stuffing truck stop hookers and others into this custom hydraulic box. At this point in the story his hand starts shaking and he can barely drink his beer. ‘That guy was massive,’ he says. ‘His hand could cover most of my head. He could’ve stuffed me in the box and there’s nothing I could’ve done to stop him. Or sh*t, maybe there was someone in there already!’ He says he still has nightmares about it years later
“Given the nature of their work, truck drivers can be pretty unhealthy and will sometimes die in their sleep at rest stops. The sad (and gross) thing is that they can go unnoticed for a decent amount of time.”
“There was a story on here a while back by a trucker who shared his creepiest experience while out on the road. It was getting very late (and very dark) so he pulled into a rest area off the highway in the middle of nowhere. The place was totally empty, meaning there weren’t any other vehicles or people there. While he was getting some shut-eye inside his truck, he heard a faint sound of a barking dog that seemed to get louder and louder as time went by.
“Eventually the nasty barking sound was coming from right outside his driver-side door. As he got up to look in the window, he didn’t see a rabid dog but instead it was some crazy-eyed person looking directly at him, growling and trying to get in. He started the engine and got the heck out of there.”
“Pulled over to stay the night near the Arizona welcome center on I-40. I hear a light knocking on my door. An old lady wearing nothing but an oversized sweatshirt is standing outside. I roll down my window and ask what’s up. In the tiniest, creepiest little voice she says that there’s something in her car making a weird noise and that she needs help with it. I didn’t help her.”
“All growing up, my dad was a semi truck driver. He drove full-time, all over the country. We didn’t get to see him very often, but he used to call home almost every night, and in the summers, my sisters and I got to travel with him for a week or two. We called it ‘trucking.’
“This story happened when I was really little, probably four or so, and I don’t really remember it. I was trucking with my dad, and he was experiencing some minor engine trouble. Before he was a truck driver, my dad was a mechanic, and did most of his own truck repairs. He had pulled over in a small truck stop to work on the truck. There was a tree next to the parking lot, so he sat me down underneath it with my doll, and he worked on the truck right next to me.
“It was really hot, and while he was laying underneath the hot truck, my dad blacked out. Who knows how long he was out. He was having a heat stroke. He finally came to with a splitting headache. He looked over to the tree to check on me, and I was still just sitting there playing with my doll. But there was a guy creeping up behind me, reaching out to grab me. I don’t know how, but with the little energy my dad had left, he jumped out from under the truck yelling and swinging whatever tool he had nearby. The guy ran off, and my dad collapsed.
“A lady working inside the truck stop saw the whole thing, and came running out. She got me and my dad inside, and took care of me while he cooled down.
I don’t know what would have happened if my dad hadn’t woken up when he did.”
“My friends and I drove out to the Greyhound station along the highway to drop one friend off. There were five of us in total, with me sitting in the middle seat in the back. The station is adjacent to a truck stop, with the parking spots for the station perpendicular to the spots for the trucks. It just so happened that the spot we were parked in was in line with the cab of the truck parked perpendicular to us.
“We were just sitting there in the car waiting for the bus, and my two friends in the front were turned so that they faced us in the back. Nothing special was going on, just general chit chat. With me being the only one with a clear view out the windshield, I happened to look up at the cab of the truck in front of us. I noticed a blinking little red light that seemed out of place at the bottom of the window. I look a little closer and realize that the little red light belong to a camera the trucker was holding that was pointed unmistakably directly at us. After I pointed this out to my friends and all attention turned to him, the camera and creeper holding it quickly disappeared from sight. Needless to say we also disappeared from sight, moving to a space as far away from truck parking spots as possible.
“Not the worst thing that could have happened, but definitely creepy. I just don’t understand what he was wanting to get out of filming us. I mean we were just sitting in a car, chatting. I just don’t get it.”
“When I was a fresh faced 18-year-old college student, I worked at a fast food restaurant near a truck stop. I had just moved from a relatively small town of around 3,000 to a city of around 65,000, not including the college kids. Somehow I was not familiar with creepy men.
“So it’s my second or third week there on cashier duty and it is busy dinnertime. Everything is going fine and I’m doing pretty well because I’m a relatively friendly person while still making sure the line went through smoothly. A lot of truckers come in and a relatively heavy set gentleman with the typical trucker’s outfit (jean jacket, dirty jeans, so much denim!) is next at my register. He’s at least 45 and smells like the worst BO ever. He orders and I tell him it will be a few moments. I look behind him indicating that it is time to move on because I’m going to help the person behind him. Then it starts.
Trucker: ‘You look pretty young to be working.’
Me: (awkward laugh) ‘Yeah, this is my first college job.’
Trucker: ‘No, no way are you in college, you are just a baby.’
I spurt out more awkward laughing and I address the person behind him. He still doesn’t move.
Trucker: ‘You look tired.’
Me: ‘Yeah, I had a long day of classes.’
Trucker: ‘I’m tired too. Want to take a nap with me in my truckbed?’
“Yeah, okay, moving on. I readdress the person behind him and even move a little to the side so the customer can see me. Luckily his food comes up and he disappears. Good thing too, because he was making me uncomfortable. My manager, who saw the whole thing, started asking if I knew that guy and if he was bothering me. I told him that I didn’t know him but he’s gone now so it’s no big deal. I figured that would be that. Nope.
We begin closing up around 10 PM as we close at 11 PM. I’m doing some light cleaning up when we get a drive-thru. I have a headset and my manager has another along with the grill cook. Right now it is just us three there for the night because our store was famous for being understaffed. My manager takes the order and does the standard greeting. Instead, we get the familiar voice of the ‘Trucker.’
Trucker: ‘What time is the cashier girl done?’
“My manager turns to me. I’m completely frozen and not sure what to say. My manager turns the headset off and asks again if I know this guy. I say no and I can tell he is immediately in attack mode.
Manager: ‘I’m sorry sir, we have many females on registers throughout the night and I’m not allowed to give out – ‘
Trucker: (After interrupting him) ‘The baby faced girl, I know she is still there, I told her I would give her a ride.’
Manager: ‘I cannot give out that information.’
Trucker: ‘Tell her I’ll be waiting.’
“He then drove off. My manager immediately runs in back and leaves me and the grill cook standing there confused and scared. In 15 minutes the GM comes in and asks me various questions such as if I’m sure I don’t know this man and then tells us to shut down lobby and just keep drive-thru open. They both go in the back room and shut the door. At around 10:45, the grill cook, who came up to talk to me as I was visibly shaken, notices an unmarked police car sitting in our parking lot. At 10:55 my manager comes back out and tells us to just shut the store down.
“Around 11:45, we are finished and I grab my coat from the break room. Normally, just myself and the grill cook would have just walked out together but instead both the manager and GM both walked us out. Sure as hell, there is an 18 wheeler, with his lights off, waiting outside of the normal parking in the truck stop and instead in our parking lot as if no one would notice the big truck. As we make our way to our cars, the trucker turns his lights on and starts his engine. The undercover gets out and walks up to us and then walks with us to our cars. Trucker must have seen the cop and the manager and GM and instead drove away. Although nothing happened, it changed our store’s policy on how the closers could leave the store. Now they had to go in packs of three and couldn’t leave until everyone’s cars started and their lights were on.”
“Not a trucker, but my neighbor’s son was. One night he was parked and asleep in his cab when someone stole his load. Then they set fire to the truck with him in it still asleep. He didn’t get out in time.”
“I stop one day, and I need to take a piss. I don’t know why I didn’t stop in Van Horn. So I pull off, and I roll up to the empty lot across the street. Kent, Texas, is an abandoned town. I walk up to the bush line and notice a makeshift fire pit. The wood is somewhat burnt, but not all the way. The weird thing is that there’s an unscathed dollar bill stuck in the wood. For a second I was like ‘Ooo piece of candy!’ but then this sudden feeling of NOPE came over me. So I left it alone and pissed in the bush.
“As I’m walking back, I get a real negative feeling. I look to the ground in front of me and bam, there’s a rattlesnake looking right at me. I stop dead in my tracks, and walk carefully around it, and it keeps staring at me. I ran as fast as I could back to my truck, feeling like somebody was behind me. I kicked up a lot of dust getting out of there, and have never stopped in Kent since.”
“I had a hooker climb into my truck while I was sleeping. My truck’s passenger’s side door wasn’t locked as well as I thought. I’d been hit in a parking lot by another truck and it bent the door in a little. I tested the lock and it seemed to lock and unlock fine, but that turned out to be wrong. It was around 1 AM, and in my sleep I sort of vaguely heard my door open, so I was already starting to wake up, then someone shook me by the shoulder. I jumped up and hit her in the face with my laptop, we got in this weird hair-pulling slap fight, and physically pushed/kicked her over the passenger’s seat and out the door onto the pavement. I stood there half-awake blinking at her through the windshield when she jumped up, flashed me her boobs, flipped me off, and ran away. I went back to sleep, sort of.
“Woke up an hour or so later with someone knocking on my door. It was the police. She called them and told them she was my girlfriend and I’d beat her up and thrown her out at a truck stop. I believe they were getting ready to handcuff me when a few drivers from other trucks came over to explain she’d been knocking on truck doors all night and was there most weekends either knocking on doors or trying to climb into unlocked trucks. The cops didn’t really say anything else to me, they just handcuffed her and drove away with her in the back.
Plot twist: I’m female and I look nothing like the stereotypical ideal of the manly female trucker. She looked like a greasy beach ball with dead caterpillars for eyebrows..”
“I am waiting out front of a truck stop back in the mid ’80s. Sitting on a park bench with a guy that has a big Rottweiler kinda dog on a leash with him. I try to make small talk but he was quite a sourpuss. So we sit in silence for a few minutes until the most unexpected thing I have ever seen, happens right before my very eyes.
“While we were sitting there a big 18 wheeler pulls in without a trailer (bobtail) so he parks right up front like a normal car would. Inside the cab of the truck with the driver is a little monkey, the dance for the organ grinder kind. I think they are called Rhesus monkeys. Well, the dog spots this lil monkey and proceeds to go apesh*t over it, lunging at the end of his leash and barking at the top of his lungs. Generally making a real spectacle of himself to say the least.
“The driver is obviously upset, but not nearly as much as the monkey is. Actually upset may be the wrong adjective to use for the monkey, though. In retrospect I think ‘eagerly aggressive’ may be a more appropriate description for his disposition. He was pacing the dashboard back-and-forth, never taking his eyes off of this very aggravating dog.
“The driver opens his little triangle window that they don’t make on cars anymore, the ones made for smokers back in the day. He yells out to this d**chebag to call his dog off because it is upsetting his monkey. The guy laughs and says no way, says that his dog ain’t bothering nobody. The dog hasn’t shut up since he laid eyes on the monkey. I promise you he is bothering everybody for several blocks around.
“Now here’s where things start to get interesting. The driver says that if he doesn’t call his dog off he’s gonna let his monkey loose on that dog. D**chebag laughs and says that his dog would eat that monkey alive. Upon hearing this the driver leans over and reaches into his glove box I guess. Pulls out one of those tiny baseball bats like you used to get at Astroworld or carnivals, and places it in the monkey’s hand.
“The monkey obviously knows what’s about to go down because he is now trying to squeeze out of that little triangular window I mentioned earlier. This monkey has murder in his eyes if I have ever seen it. Driver hollers ‘Last chance to save your dog’s a**, man.’ In response d**chebag lets his dog off of the leash. Now we have a situation that has escalated to the point where we have a dog jumping up at the window and a monkey screaming profanities right back at him.
“Well, the driver finally rolls down the regular window and out leaps all kinds of miniature primate hell. The dog never knew what hit him. Quick as a flash this monkey is riding on the back of this dog’s neck. His two back feet all wrapped up in his neck fur with one hand hanging onto an ear. The other hand as you may have guessed by now is steadily and mercilessly raining down blows about this dog’s head and face. I mean hard blows. You can hear them whap whap whap.
“Well it only takes a moment for the dog to realize he is in way over his head. He bolts yelping bloody murder as he runs away at full speed. I mean this dog is running so f*ckin hard he’s throwing up tufts of grass and dirt as soon as he leaves pavement. The monkey still riding him and beating on him the whole time. D**chebag acts like he wants to fight now but several people including myself stepped in to stop that nonsense. In a couple of minutes or so the little monkey comes loping back with his little bat still in hand, and leaps up into the still open window of the truck to await his master who has gone on into the store.
“That w*nker runs off to try to go find his dog, but I don’t know if he ever did. My ride shows up and I go. Never again in this lifetime will I see something so totally crazy and unexpected like that. I am both fortunate and humble to have been so privileged to be present for such an event.”
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