Everybody has a dating app horror story. A guy who brought his mom. A woman who was ten years older than her pictures. Mine is about a woman who, on our first date, already knew which way my bedroom window faced. I read a lot of new scary stories online, and I never thought I’d end up writing one.
I’m a guy, for what it’s worth. People always assume these stories happen to women. In 2023 I was thirty-one and living alone with my dog, Murphy, in a townhouse in Raleigh, North Carolina. I’m an engineer for the state transportation department. Boring job, decent pay, long hours.
Because of the long hours, I used a dog walking service. You book walks in an app, and a walker comes by at noon. There’s a lockbox with a key on my front door, and the walkers get the code through the app. It worked great for two years.
I’d been on the dating apps for about six months. A lot of first dates, not many second ones. In March I matched with a woman named Celeste. Thirty, dark hair, a nice smile. Her profile said she was a vet tech and loved dogs. My profile had about four pictures of Murphy.
“You Must Get Great Light”
Our first date was at a brewery downtown. She was funny and easy to talk to. We talked about dogs for an hour. It was one of the best first dates I’d had.
At one point she said, “Your bedroom faces east, right? You must get great light in the morning.”
I laughed and said, “How’d you know that?”
She said I’d mentioned it. I didn’t remember mentioning it. But we’d been talking a lot, and I’d had two beers. I figured I had.
Second date, she brought me a present. A small potted fern. She said, “For your east window. It’ll love it there.”
I thought it was sweet. I put it on the windowsill in my bedroom. It did love it there.
Third date was dinner at a Thai place. We were having a great time. Then, while we were waiting for the check, she said, “You should really fix that third stair. The squeaky one. It’s going to drive you crazy.”
The third stair in my townhouse squeaks. Loudly. It’s been like that since I moved in. I’d never told anyone about it, because why would I? And I had never once invited Celeste to my house.
Why This Dating App Horror Story Isn’t Funny
I asked her, very calmly, how she knew about the stair.
She smiled and said, “Lucky guess. All those townhouses have a squeaky stair.”
That’s actually kind of true. I told myself that. I told myself she knew someone who lived in my complex, or she’d been to a party in one of the other units. I told myself she was just observant.
But in the car on the way home, I thought about the fern. About the east window. About how she knew exactly which way to turn it so it got the morning sun.
The next day, I texted her. I said I’d had a great time, but I didn’t think it was a match, and I wished her the best. Polite. The way you’re supposed to do it.
She didn’t answer. I felt a little guilty, honestly. I figured she was hurt.
The Third Stair
That night, I woke up at 1:20 a.m. because Murphy was growling.
Murphy is a sixty-pound mutt who loves everyone. He had never growled in his life. He was standing at my bedroom door with his hackles up, staring into the dark hall.
Then I heard it.
The third stair. Squeak.
Then nothing. Somebody had stepped on it, heard it, and stopped.
I grabbed my phone and called 911 and whispered my address. Then I did the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I opened my bedroom door, because Murphy was trying to get out, and I didn’t want to lose sight of him.
The hall light was off. The light from the street came in through the window at the top of the stairs.
Celeste was sitting on the top step. Her knees pulled up. She looked up at me, very calm. She didn’t look angry. She looked patient.
She said, “You didn’t tell me why.”
Murphy didn’t bark at her. He stopped growling. He walked right up and sniffed her hand like he knew her. Like he’d known her for months.
That’s what scared me the most. More than her being there. My dog knew her.
I said, “The police are coming.” She nodded, like that was reasonable. She stood up and walked down the stairs, stepping over the third one without looking at it, and went out my front door.
The Dog Walker
The police were there in nine minutes. She was gone. The front door was unlocked. It hadn’t been forced.
I knew how she’d gotten in before the officer even asked. I opened the dog walking app and looked at my walk history. For the last five months, my noon walks had been done by a walker named “C. Marsh.” Five days a week. The profile picture was a golden retriever. No face.
She’d had the lockbox code for five months. She’d been in my house every weekday at noon since before we ever matched. She’d walked my dog. She’d seen my bedroom window and my stairs. She’d probably picked me out of the app because of Murphy’s pictures.
The dog walking company deactivated her account. They told the police the account had been made with a fake ID. The name on the dating app was fake too. I got a restraining order against a woman whose real name I didn’t know, which the judge said would be “difficult to enforce.”
I moved. I walk Murphy myself now, on my lunch break. I don’t use lockboxes. I don’t use the dating apps anymore either.
Last week I came home and there was a small potted fern on my front step. No note.
My new place faces west.
It was turned toward the sunset.
For more horror stories online about strangers who get too close, read the stalker horror story about free coffee every morning, our Facebook Marketplace horror story about one buyer, or a scary Airbnb story from a lake house in Arkansas.
Share your dating app horror story
Have you ever met someone who knew a little too much about you on the first date? Share your dating app horror story in the comments below. Some of the scariest stories ever start with a really nice first date.
How scary was it?
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