One of our readers wrote us with this shocking scary story:
“Growing up in China, I’ve seen a lot of strange things that western culture tends to ignore.
Even so, I never experienced anything more frightening than what transpired last summer. It shook me up so bad that this is the first time I’ve been able to write about it.
I was born and grew up in China, but my parents and I moved to California because of their work. A couple years ago I was accepted to Chico State University and I was excited to finally start college.
One day while walking to Panama Bar, a local spot for cheap drinks, I met a strange old man who told me he was friends with my parents.
It seemed pretty strange and I thought he was just same crazy dude at first. But he told me stories about my parents that I knew were true. The type of things only someone who was a close family friend would know.
Even so, I was still skeptical. So when he invited me over his house for dinner the following evening, I said thanks but no thanks.
Later in the day I called my parents and they said they did indeed have a couple of old friends in the area that they hadn’t heard from since I was young.
After hearing that I felt I treated the guy from earlier a bit rude. But what could I really do now? Not much so I just went about my day.
A week later I ran into that guy again. We made small-talk and I apologized if I seemed rude the first time.
He said not to worry about it and invited me over for dinner again.
I hesitated a bit but agreed to come over that night.
I got to his house and he told me stories about how he met my parents and the adventures they’d go on when they were young.
After we ate he started talking about the history of Chico and how there used to be a lot of Chinese immigrants in the 20’s and 30’s. He asked if I wanted to see an important part of history and I said sure.
He led me downstairs into the basement which wasn’t properly lit. I could barely see anything in the darkness. I thought maybe he kept old historical records down there or something.
The man walked over by his wall and removed a drape that was hanging on it to reveal a good sized hole.
He told me that the Chinese in the area had built an entire network of tunnels that connected from various houses.
When I asked why he said that they used them for opium dens, many people would smoke up right in the tunnel.
I had heard about these tunnels but thought they were just a myth. So I was pretty stoked to see them in person.
Wanting to check it out, I climbed into the hole and the first thing that I noticed was the smell of what I imagine rotting flesh smells like.
The odor was like a dying animal.
As I walked along the old man started telling me how some of the laborers who built the tunnels were shot dead after the construction, their bodies never found.
The further I walked along in the tunnel the less light I could see.
I noticed that the old man wasn’t following me anymore and I shouted back for him. No response.
I went to turn around and just as I did from the side of the tunnel I noticed a disfigured corpse sitting on the shelf. Before I could even process it, the body suddenly hopped towards me!
Its face was in a perplexed stare, unable to move. Its arms, stiff as a board were held directly in front of it.
In the darkness I could barely make out the clothing it wore…a Mandarin style robe and what appeared to be a tall-rimmed hat.
My blood ran cold and it took a moment for my mind to catch up.
Growing up on the mainland I heard stories about this thing but didn’t believe them. Straight out of a nightmare but as real as anything I’ve seen.
And it was headed towards me.
Terrified I turned to run but tripped on the ground and landed on my face. As the creature hopped toward me I got up and sprinted toward the exit.
When I finally got there I didn’t see the old man and stumbled around in the dark to try and find the stairs. I bolted out of the front door and didn’t look back.
Everything seemed hazy as I made my way out to the street. I pulled out my phone but my fingers seemed so clumsy that I couldn’t dial.
At that point I just willed myself to run. I eventually made it back to my dorm and my senses seemed to return to normal.
I told my roommate what happened and he thought I was freakin nuts or had a bad acid trip or something.
I called my parents and asked them how they exactly knew the old man.
I was shocked to find that they told me they didn’t know anyone like the old man. The friends they spoke about before were two female friends in the area.
How did he know such intimate details about my parents and family?
I don’t even know, but I haven’t stepped foot near that weird guys house again, in fear of him and the terrible thing looming in his tunnels.”