That one time a psycho on a train unleashed my ultimate form

Long time reddit lurker, first time poster and all that jazz. Having recently fallen down the rabbit holes some interesting subs including r/letsnotmeet, I realized I've got many tales I can share. I have taken a look at the rules, but if I do unknowingly break any of the sub or forum rules, I'm happy to edit. I'm pretty sure I've got this in the correct sub, but if not, again I'm happy to correct. As I am a rather long winded person when I get going this will likely be a long one but tl;dr at the bottom.

In order to really paint the picture for you of the scariest event I have ever experienced in my entire life and to really feel that moment when my blood turned to ice in my veins, I've got to give you a little background on my rather unconventional and fucked up childhood. I'll try to keep this part brief. I'm sure this will sound like utter bullshit to some, but I assure you it's not, I'm telling the absolute truth,even if it does sound like a badly produced after school special.

My father kidnapped me from my mother when I was a baby,not because he loved me and couldn't live without me, but because he's a sociopathic douche bag that wanted to hurt my mother as much as he could. I was missing for roughly 6 years, face on the back of a milk carton...the whole nine. My father was an ex-military survivalist that smuggled drugs over the Mexican/American border among other things at that time. During these most formative years of my development I was surrounded by criminals and raised by this neglectful fucktard. I had a lot of severe trauma very young, let's just say that I knew what REAL monsters were. By the time I was located and returned to my mother just after I turned 7, I knew how to load, clean and assemble several different types of guns. I knew to aim for the head of the men wearing blue uniforms and I was a damn good shot with a handgun. I had been left alone for days at a time repeatedly and often, so I was completely self sufficient and could care for myself. I didn't go to school and had only been around other kids for very rare, brief moments in time. I was a feral little beast at this point. I did not trust adults, or anyone for that matter. In my experience most people were liars and did not show you their true face. Lucky for me I was returned to a loving home with my mother and stepfather. With love,therapy and protection by the two of them I think I turned out to be a relatively normal and surprisingly mentally healthy woman, albeit with a few idiosyncrasies.

Now the point of all of this preamble is to give you some context regarding the kind of person I am. I am not a victim, I do not take shit from people and there are very few things in this world that truly terrify me. I am a motherfucking survivor! (Rawr!) Growing up the way I did, I studied people intensely as a defense mechanism. I am very good at reading people and their emotions, at times even the feelings they won't admit to themselves. I have been left with an obsession for my security and of those I love, so I tend to be hyper-vigilant of my surroundings. There is always a weapon of some type on my person or in my belongings wherever I go and I take note of every exit and entrance of any place I step into. As a teenager, my stepfather taught me some tricks on how to take down someone that was bigger and/or stronger than me. He was a hell raising biker and at one time a bartender and bouncer at a rowdy biker bar, so he knew his stuff. You would think I would be prepared, right?

The story that I am trying to get to here, was one of the few times in my adult life that someone slipped through all my defenses and nearly got to my young daughters. Now it's one thing to fear for your own safety, but to fear for the safety of your children as I'm sure every parent knows,is something else entirely.It is ice-cold, blood curdling, absolutely sheer fucking terror and I never,ever,ever want to experience it again.

I was living in San Francisco roughly 7 years ago. At the time I managed a medical office inside a large residential drug rehab center. The residents were a mix of characters ranging from the homeless and mentally ill to straight out of San Quentin parolees.I actually enjoyed my work and never felt unsafe there but it was exhausting. It was Friday at the end of a 50 hour work week and I could not wait to get home and put my feet up. The building I worked in was donated by the catholic church and used to be an old convent. It is a four story stone behemoth and I ran up and down three of those floors all day every day that week. It had been a rough week and I was deep to the bones tired as well as mentally fried.

It was no quick commute home for me however. My job was in the Fillmore/lower haight area and my babysitter lived near Balboa Park while I lived in the Sunset district next to SF State. The fastest way home involved walking two city blocks to get to a bus which would drop me near the closest underground station. From there hop on a train that would take me all the way across the city, nearly to the end of the line. At least the babysitter didn't live far from the line so I didn't need to transfer to another bus. Once I had my girls I would have to wait for the next train to head back down the M line and finally a 15-20 minute trek on foot to the back of the small-city sized complex where our apartment was. (Park Merced for any SF dwellers)

I had made it the babysitter's house uneventfully and stood waiting for the next train,counting the minutes down until we would be at our front door. This was an above ground stop so my habit was to hold the hand of my 7 year old and heft my 3 year old toddler on my hip,clamber up the steps and carry her through the train to find a seat. Although she was able to walk, she wasn't so balanced on a moving subway train, as well as being a toddler, so she tended to fall over and become easily distracted by the other people on the train. Strollers seemed to be more of a pain in the ass than they are helpful when dealing with public transit, so this had become my routine.

Looking back, I'm sure I looked an easy target. It's not like I present as this bad-ass, hardened and grizzled person. There's really nothing intimidating about me I don't think. I knew I had balls of steel but unless you challenged me, no one else would. I was a 27 year old exhausted single mother just trying to get home with my kids and belongings in tow. We were on the final leg of the journey home, and being so tired and wiped out, my defenses were down. So when I managed to get up the stairs onto the train and realized that the car was empty except for one homeless man, I just did not feel it was worth it to continue through the train cars to a more populated one.

I observed this guy and quickly took mental note of him as was my habit. He was at the end of the train in the last car, right next to and opposite the door I entered from. He didn't look to be something I should be afraid of. Remember, I worked with this population every day and I knew that most of these people are nothing to be scared of. In my experience, most of these guys just had a shitty life followed by a series of bad decisions and/or an inability to learn from their own mistakes. In fact,when I was traveling on my own, it was a habit of mine to sit down in the empty seat next to a homeless person (if they didn't appear intoxicated or schizophrenic) that no one else would take, and strike up a conversation. If you ever want to see true joy in the eyes of another human, sit down next to a homeless person and talk to them like a "regular" person. You will make their day. But I digress...

He appeared to be in his mid 40s, unkempt, shaggy dark hair and scruffy facial hair. Wearing several layers of raggedy stained clothes with a an over sized coat that hung past his knees. He had a tall can of beer in his hand I noticed, but didn't seem overly attentive to my presence. Even though this man didn't set off a fear response for me, I was not in the mood to deal with an intoxicated hobo with my girls tonight. So I headed up the train hoping I'd make it onto the next car before we started moving.

No such luck, being the only group that got on the train at this stop the train pulled off quickly and I had only made it near the end of this car. Balancing a tot on one hip, holding the hand of the other and all the weight of bags and purses on the other shoulder, I just kind of dropped and wilted into the empty seats we were next to at the front of the car. We didn't have far to go now and I could see from my vantage point 2 people on the car ahead of me.

I was in the habit of placing my girls on one seat to situate bags and I always sat in the aisle seat as a protective measure. While we are getting settled and the train gets going, I hear this guy in the back start singing to himself. Honestly, I don't remember what, I just remember he seemed happy. I had filed this man away in my brain as just another homeless guy riding the train at night on a loop to stay warm, which they did often. Most of the time they don't bother anyone because they don't want to get kicked off the train. I figured he had panhandled enough that night for a beer and a ticket and I did not begrudge him a little joy and warmth,as long as he stayed away from my kids.

As I'm sitting there attending to my girls kind of half-aware of the hobo in the back, I slowly register that his singing is getting a little louder, more boisterous and closer. I glance over my shoulder to see he is hobbling our direction and looking at my toddler who is peeking at him over the back of the seat,as she's sitting on her knees. I start to pay a little more attention to his whereabouts, but again there's nothing that says to me he's dangerous. I have no problem enforcing boundaries with strangers in public, but I also have a lot of compassion for these guys. After all, with a couple different turns in my own past, that could have been me.

It's apparent this guy has had more than one tall boy that night as he is sort of swaying and slurring his words, but he appears to be singing for my little tot because she is tickled pink, giggling and smiling the more animated his singing becomes. I study his face but his smile doesn't seem creepy to me at all, he honestly doesn't seem like a possible chester to me or have any ill intent, he just seemed to enjoy entertaining an adorable little girl. Maybe he had kids of his own somewhere that he missed, or maybe he was just lonely. Even so I didn't want to engage with this guy and encourage him, so I was paying a little more attention to what he was doing now out of my peripheral view.

By this time he had made it pretty close to us and he dropped into the bench seat that was a couple rows and on the opposite side of us, roughly 7 feet away. We were sitting in the forward facing seats at the front of the car. Now I was wary but still not afraid or skeeved out by this guy. He starts chatting at me at this point.

In his slurred speech he says "Beautiful family you got there, you're a lucky mom to have such cute kids"

I'm so not in the mood to talk to anyone right now, but as I said I have too much compassion for people down on their luck so I just politely say "Thank you" without turning around. Still slurring, he launches into a tale about the family he used to have and everything that went wrong in his life. It doesn't seem to matter to him that I'm not really engaging, but he's not coming any closer to us so I don't stop him or interrupt.

Now what happens next is my first inkling that this guy may not be what he seems. It's not so much what he says that does it, but the sudden shift in tone and personality. He's not slurring anymore, the volume of his voice has dropped a bit and the tone of his voice changes to this Hannibal Lecter smugness. He's not talking to me anymore, but at my tot who is peeking at him again over my shoulder.

"Hellooo, little girl"

Now this guy had my full attention. Every cell in my body is saying pay attention to this Hello,Clarice motherfucker. I look over my shoulder to look directly at him and really assess his demeanor. His joviality seemed to be gone and I don't see a happy hobo anymore but a leering grin on his face that doesn't reach his dead looking brown eyes. He is looking at my littlest tot, but then shifts his eyes to look at my 7 year old who is also staring at him although looking less entertained than her sister.

This is the moment my blood runs cold. In that same Hannibal tone of voice, still not slurring he says,

"oh aren't you the pretty one,such pretty white skin, sooooo sexy"

I'm looking directly at him when he says this and what I see in his face has me fucking terrified. I do NOT like the way he is looking at my daughter like she is a piece of meat. He realizes I am looking at him and shifts his eyes to look at me now, and grins a little wider to show me a perfectly white intact smile that seems incongruous with the rest of his get up. I also notice that while his attire is dirty he himself seems pretty clean, and his scruffy facial hair has a distinct line as if he shaved it that way with purpose. Now maybe I'm just paranoid due to my past, maybe this guy had gotten free dental work, maybe he had showered at a shelter but had nothing clean to put back on, maybe he had gotten a free shave from a barber giving back. There are plenty of plausible explanations for what I observe, but it's when I lock eyes with this guy that alarm bells go off in my head. What kind of man calls a 7 year old sexy? And why did his demeanor seem to change so suddenly? Why did he seem perfectly sober? I have absolutely no doubt this man is a predator. My intuition,which I trust completely, says get the hell away from this guy NOW!!

All of this goes through my head in nano seconds, I stand up to pick up my bags, adrenaline surging, heft the little one back to my hip grab the hand of my oldest and head for the door of the car. Because I want the two people in the car ahead of me to hear, I wait for the doors to open before I turn back to him and loudly and with mama bear authority say "you stay away from us!" I didn't care if I was wrong in my assumption and I didn't care anymore if I hurt his feelings.

I lumber to the front of this car and again sit in the very front forward seats. I don't go any further because this happens to be a long train with probably six or seven cars and I don't see anybody on the next couple of cars from my vantage point. I want to stay with the other passengers. It's not unusual for the train to be this empty this far away from downtown and at this time of night in between the commute rush and the Friday night club crowd. I'm used to disembarking alone or with very few others at my stop when I work this late. I'm starting to panic at this point about what I would do at my stop coming up. It is also on the part of the line that is still above ground, and I'm not going to have a crowd of people to get lost in. This creep could easily follow me on my walk through the complex and either attack me alone or follow me home. Because I'm pondering my predicament and literally terrified, I don't immediately register that the people who were on the car with me have gotten off the train and I am now alone again. Several minutes go by and we are getting close to our stop, when I hear the woosh of the car doors opening behind me.

"please be another passenger" I'm praying to myself before I look behind me. Nope! it's creepy Hannibal hobo heading toward me again but this time he is glaring at me. No more smile, no more singing, no more slurring. Just an evil glare as he plods my direction. He's got his left hand up on the overhead bar with his right hand seeming to hold something inside his jacket as he plods toward me. My stomach drops into my toes and my heart leaps into my throat. We are all alone several cars behind anyone I can see.

I don't wait to find out what he's got in his jacket. I hadn't set down any bags this time, they were still over my shoulder and I was still holding my youngest. So I just grab the hand of my oldest and tell her we need to get to the front, I can tell she is scared now too but I'm trying not to frighten her too bad. I kind of push and pull her gently in front of me thinking if I can get to the front car even if it's empty I'll be right behind the conductor. I'm going as fast as I can which isn't very fast with everything I'm juggling. As I'm nearing the doors again I can see that the next car is empty but the next car has people!! I'm almost there as long as he doesn't catch up to us, we should be safe! We are now almost to my stop and the train is slowing down again.

I hear the doors swoosh open again behind me.Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I glance over my shoulder to see this guy is fucking RUNNING at me!!Jesus H. Christ I have never been so fucking terrified in my entire life. I move ahead as fast as I can into the next car but I know I'm not going to make it to the next filled with people, and no one seems to be looking this way from the car ahead and the train is pulling into the stop.

This is that moment when time just seems to slow down. I'm thinking this guy plans to incapacitate me with no hands to defend myself and he is going to run off the stopping train with one or both of my girls. Now my adrenaline is surging and I can feel my heart thumping at warp speed, boomboomboomboomboom! I drop the bags from my shoulder not giving one fuck about what's in them now, I need free movement! I tell my seven year old to stay behind me as I squat down to plop my youngest on the train floor. In one motion I turn around, raise up, pull my pocket knife out of my back pocket and flip it open taking a wide legged defensive stance . I don't know if it was the security of my knife in my hand or that one final surge of adrenaline but I swear to god as I stood up, I grew. I felt like Mario having just gotten his mushroom. I felt invincible, three times my size and superhuman. NO ONE was going to get through me to my babies even if I was going to get stabbed.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees the knife about 5 feet in front of me. I sway a bit with the brake on the train bringing it to a halt but keep my footing. Without thinking I scream at this guy, "TAKE ONE MORE FUCKING STEP AND I WILL CUT OFF YOUR BALLS AND FUCKING CHOKE YOU WITH THEM!!"

I see his eyes widen at this, he obviously did not expect this kind of a reaction. He looks in my eyes, looks at the knife, looks behind me at my kids and one more time glances back to my eyes. Then he turns tail and runs out the open doors and off the train.

I barely register a couple of college students by the look of them hop onto my car and immediately hop off. Probably because I'm still standing there looking like a psycho with a knife out. I hear the ding and swoosh of the doors closing again and the train moves on. At this point I just kind of crumpled to the floor and hugged my kids to me and burst into tears. My oldest is crying too while her little sister is just completely bewildered.

I didn't move from the floor until we pulled into the next stop at West Portal, where we disembarked and I called my roommate and best friend. He was a man with big biceps and uncanny strength for his size. I wanted him to meet me at the train stop so we didn't have to walk through the complex alone in the dark after this craziness, which of course he did because he is amazing like that.

I never stayed on an empty train after that, no matter how tired I am I will move to a car full of people. I never saw Hannibal Hobo again either and I don't care to. I don't think he ever wants to meet me again either.

Tl;dr: Would be Hannibal Lecter psycho creeps on my kids, chases us through an empty subway train when Mama bear hulks the fuck out like Mrs. Bruce Banner and scares him off the train.