The day we all felt we are gonna die......

Hey everyone, I have to share one of the scariest experiences I’ve ever had while traveling.In 2017, was a trip with my sister and mom, heading to Los Angeles in a big bus filled with about 22 people. Everything was going smoothly until we found ourselves crossing a dark road.
Out of nowhere, the bus suddenly came to a stop. The driver quickly checked the tires and discovered that one had been punctured by a large nail. It was 2:32 a.m, and the dark forest around us felt eerily silent. We stepped off the bus, feeling uneasy as the weather shifted. The driver went to retrieve the spare wheel, but upon opening the compartment, panic spread through the group. There was no spare—someone had not only damaged our tire but had removed the backup. We were stranded in the middle of nowhere. I could see the fear on my mom and sister's faces, and we knew we needed help. My mom tried calling for Helpline, but there was no signal. As if that wasn’t enough to frighten us, we soon realized that one of the travelers had gone missing—Jack, the bus attendant. We couldn’t leave anyone behind, so we quickly decided to split into four groups to search for him, planning to reconvene in 40 to 50 minutes. My group went south while my mom and sister's group headed west. We called out for Jack, “JACK! ARE YOU THERE?” but after half an hour of searching and finding nothing, we were exhausted and made the decision to return. When we got back, we found one group in a state of panic. They explained that while searching, they had seen a figure covered in blood. Our hearts raced as they recounted how this figure had chased them back to the bus. We were terrified—something was seriously wrong. As we waited for the third group to return, I started feeling anxious about my mom and sister. It was nearly 3:12 a.m., and they hadn’t come back yet. Just as we were preparing to search for them, that same blood-covered Guy appeared again. We ran north, toward where my mom and sister should have been. The fear was palpable; we sprinted for our lives until we finally felt safe enough to stop. However, we quickly counted ourselves and realized we were down to 16 people—someone was still missing. One of the guys mentioned his friend, Alexander, is missing. I cautioned against searching too deeply because we couldn’t risk losing more people. Instead, we decided to continue toward the fourth group. After what felt like an eternity, we found them on the ground, unconscious. They woke up in a panic, explaining that they, too, had encountered that terrifying figure. We started running again, our hearts racing, and finally stopped after a while to catch our breath in the thick silence of the forest. We were all terrified, drenched in sweat, and some were crying. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely hold my phone. It was around 3:41 a.m, deep into the witching hour. I managed to find my sister and mom, and we gathered everyone to formulate a plan. We decided to return to the bus and see if we could fix the wheel with any tools we could find. Everyone felt a tiny bit more secure, so we started to make our way back. Once we were back in the bus, we locked the doors and settled down with blankets and snacks. We agreed that two of us would stay awake to keep watch. Smith and I took the responsibility, and he asked me fearfully if we would make it out alive. I tried to stay positive, reassuring him we would be okay. However, around 4:14 a.m., something terrifying happened. We saw the figure walking around our bus again, and it looked like neither Jack nor Alexander. The sight of that bloodied figure paralyzed us with fear. I watched closely as he circled the bus, trying to understand who or what he was. Eventually, he walked away, leaving us shaken. Smith nearly fainted from fear; I had to snap him out of it. The night dragged on, but as dawn broke, I felt a pulse of hope. I woke everyone up, insisting that it was safer to leave now that it was daylight. Smith and I prepared to go for help, locking the bus tightly behind us. After a four-hour trek, we finally spotted a school bus coming from a distance. We flagged it down, explaining our dire situation to the driver, who agreed to help. As we returned to our bus, I counted everyone again, and there were 19 people. Suddenly, I realized we were missing one....Everyone fell silent, and I quickly counted again, relieved to find my mom and sister were safe, I just forgot to count myself. After boarding the school bus, we left that horrific place. The police were contacted, but their search revealed nothing after two months. They couldn’t find either Jack or Alexander. It felt surreal. Eventually, the police apprehended a suspect—someone who had been reported around that area—and called us in to identify him. My breath caught in my throat when I saw him. He was the same man who had terrified us that night. He didn’t respond when we asked about our missing friends.

The police told us that the guy was a psychopath with serious mental issues. He had already killed several people before... but they said he'd be sent to a hospital soon. Now, I live in Los Angeles, haunted by that night and the fear it brought. Despite everything, I’m grateful we all made it out alive. It’s a terrifying story that I’ll never forget, but it’s just one of many I have from my travels. Thanks for reading

Real life story.....