April 16, 2025

Strike Out: A Road Trip, a Nightmare, and a Fight for Survival

Show Notes
Transcript

A simple father-daughter road trip turns into a desperate fight for survival after a wrong turn leads them to a secluded house in the mountains. With their car stranded, night falling, and a shotgun-wielding madman at the door, eleven-year-old Cali Jansen is forced to confront her worst fears—and become her own hero. A brutal, action-packed horror story of terror, courage, and rage.

Strike Out by Morgan Moore

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Twitter: @WeeklySpooky
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🎵 Music by Ray Mattis
Check out Ray’s work here!

👨‍💼 Executive Producers: Rob Fields, Mark Shields, Bobbletopia.com

🎥 Produced by: Daniel Wilder

For everything else check out WeeklySpooky.com

🎧 LISTEN NOW and subscribe for spine-tingling horror stories every week!

🎉 Unlock exclusive bonus episodes and support the show on Patreon!
👉 WeeklySpooky.com/Join

📬 Contact Us / Submit Your Horror Story!

Twitter: @WeeklySpooky
Facebook: facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
Email: WeeklySpooky@gmail.com

🎵 Music by Ray Mattis 👉 Check out Ray’s incredible work here !
👨‍💼 Executive Producers: Rob Fields, Bobbletopia.com
🎥 Produced by: Daniel Wilder
🌐 Explore more terrifying tales at: WeeklySpooky.com

WEBVTT

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A simple father daughter road trip turns into a desperate

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fight for survival after a wrong turn leads them to

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a secluded house in the mountains, with their cars stranded,

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night falling and a shotgun wielding madman at the door.

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Young Kalie Jensen is forced to confront her fears. What's

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that you want to be scared her to come with me.

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You will experience tales over opera, ghosts, and death. It

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is not recommended at the foot of weak at Heart

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heart listeners. In the dark. It's more fun at that

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way way. This is Weekly Speaking. Hello, my spookies, It's Wednesday,

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and you know what that means. It's time for a

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little spooky in your weekly. I'm your host and narrator,

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Enrique Cuto, and tonight we have quite a terror tale

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for you, courtesy of our very own Morgan Moore, a

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story all about heading on the road as winter breaks

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and spring begins. But before we get to that, I

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want to say thank you so much for tuning into

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the program. This is the time of year when only

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the most hardcore Halloween loving spookies needs something scary every

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single week, even as the sun shines and the days

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are longer you, my dear listener needs something a little

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bit more dark to enjoy, So sincerely thank you, and

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make sure you're subscribed on your favorite podcasting app. And

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if you love what we're doing so much you want

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to support us in a direct way, head to Weeklyspooky

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dot com slash join For as little as one dollar

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a month, you get two bonus shows every single month,

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over a year's worth of creepypasta readings, exclusive audiobooks, and

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so much more. And we're wrapping up the April Fool

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right now the brand new Strickfield mini series exclusively at

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Weeklyspooky dot com slash Join now. As for tonight, family

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road trips are supposed to be fun, long drives, junk food,

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and maybe catching a ballgame on the way. But sometimes

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when you're far from home and you take a wrong turn,

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you find yourself somewhere you were never meant to be.

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Tonight's story is about a father and daughter trying to

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reconnect on the road, but when their car breaks down

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in the middle of nowhere, they discover the kind of

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play where help doesn't come easy and some people don't

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take kindly to strangers. So get comfortable. We start this

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terror tale after this strikeout by Morgan Moore. How much longer? Dad,

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Callie Jensen asked for today or in general? He replied,

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I guess both. The eleven year old answered, well, we'll

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probably stop in an hour or so for the night

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at a hotel. Then tomorrow it shouldn't be much longer

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to Grammys. He told her. Awesome, Callie responded. Her father

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smiled at her eagerness. Callie and her father were on

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their way to her grandmother, or as she had always

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called her grammys house in Maryland. It was a tradition

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they had kept every spring since Callie could remember. She

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and her father loved baseball, and the Baltimore Orioles were

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their shared favorite team. Her name, in fact, came from

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one of their more storied players, in cal Ripken Junior.

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Calli's dad insisted on using the name in any way,

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shape or form for his first born, so when he

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and her mom learned they were having a little girl,

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they decided on Calli. Currently, they were nearing the halfway

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point of their trip. Calli and her family lived in Ohio,

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which meant she and her father would trek through the

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Buckeye State down through West Virginia, Virginia and finally Maryland.

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Calli's dad usually considered West Virginia the halfway point unless

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they got up super early, where they would do the

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trip in one go. Knowing they would be stopping soon

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brought joy to Calli, as they usually stopped in the

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same town known as Morgantown and almost always either went

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to a diner near the hotel or ordered pizza. Then

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it would be breakfast at the hotel in the morning,

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and then onward to Grammys, where, save for some eating out,

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they dined on her grandmother's homemade cooking, with her chocolate

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chip pancakes being Callie's favorite she could almost taste them.

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Not to mention opening day for the Orioles, Callie returned

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her attention to the book she was reading, her normal

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way of passing the time on the drives, unless she

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wanted to break out her Game Boy Advance and replay

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one of the Pokemon games for the umpteenth time. If

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she had her way, Calli would have her mit and

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Ball with her and pass the time by lightly tossing

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it and catching it. But her dad had vetoed that

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since last year when she nearly caused him to have

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an accident. The mitten ball, along with her bat would

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have to wait. Calli felt her eyes start to grow

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heavy as she continued to read. The heaviness soon overcame

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her and they began to close. Once fully closed, she

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was out like a light. Her eyes shot open as

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her body was jolted away. Her eyes danced around before

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catching a glance at the time on the radio deck,

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six thirty p m. She turned her attention to her dad,

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who was cursing under his breath. Daddy, she asked, in

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shocked fright. I don't know what I hit, but two

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of our tires just blew out, He told her. What

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do we do? Calli questioned, Well, normally, when you have

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a flat tire, you just change it, but I don't

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have two spares, so he trailed off. So then what

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do we do? She asked, with fear creeping into her

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tone more and more. Well, we're not close to a

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town yet, he responded, as his eyes looked at their surroundings.

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We're in trouble, Callie asked. Her father does not answer. Instead,

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he keeps his eyes scanning the area. Finally, a small

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smile appears on his mouth and he snaps his fingers

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there we go, he exclaims, in hopeful joy. Callie turns

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her attention to where her father was looking. Shortly Up

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ahead was what looked like the start of a driveway.

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Does that lead to somebody's house? She asked. We'll find

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out soon enough, honey. Either way, it'll lead somewhere that

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will hopefully find people and can plan our next steps

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from there, he answered. Will we make it with the tires?

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Calli questioned, as her nostrils became filled with the smell

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of burning rubber. I hope so, sweetie, he said. Calli's

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father carefully turned the car leftwards into the opening and

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began driving up the path slowly. While night was not

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far behind, the sun was starting to lower. As dusk

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took over, the path winded up part of a mountain

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whose trees, along with the slowly setting sun, left little

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light for them to use. Finally, they arrived at an

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open gate. The father and daughter rolled down their windows

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and poked their heads out. Calli spotted an old metal

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sign dangling from one of the gate doors. She squinted

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her eyes to read it. Keep out, she said, What

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was that, sweetie? Her father asked, there's a sign that

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said keep out. I think that means we shouldn't go

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in any more, Daddy, Callie told her father. The gate

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is open though. Besides, even if they don't necessarily want

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strangers around, we do have a valid reason on our side.

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We need help, he explained. Are you sure about this, Dad,

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Calli questioned, it's either this or pulling over on the road.

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He answered with that. Her father drove through the gates

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as he switched on the headlights. The pair continued forward.

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As the large house came into view via the headlights,

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Calli's father slapped the steering wheel in excite. Once close enough,

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Callie's dad pulled to a stop and turned off the truck.

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Dad Calli said, what is it, honey, he returned, I

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don't have a good feeling about this. She told him.

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How come, he asked, It just doesn't feel right going

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somewhere we shouldn't. Besides, she started, as she looked at

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the surroundings. This place gives me the creeps, she finished.

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Her father smiled at her. I know, hone, it's a

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new place and we're in a bad spot. But at

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the end of the day, I like to believe that

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people are good and will help their fellow man. Even

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if the people who live here are angry that we

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pulled in, surely they'll understand why. Come on, let's find

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out what fate has in store for us, he said.

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On that note, her father swung his door open and

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exited the car. Hesitating for a moment, Calli took some

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deep breaths before getting out of the car and joining

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her father. She grasped and curled her hand around his,

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prompting a smile from him and a ruffle of her

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hair in response. The father and daughter made their way

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across the grounds. The duo ascended up a small set

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of steps onto the wooden patio of the house. At

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the door, Calli's father took a deep breath, put on

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his best friendly smile, and knocked on the door. Nothing.

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He waited for a moment before knocking again, a bit harder,

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still nothing. Frowning a bit, Calli's father banged on the

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door with his whole fish. Not two seconds later, the

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door swung open violently. Don't go away, weekly, spooky, We'll

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be right back. Go away, a grisly voice commanded. Calli

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and her dad looked at the man in front of them.

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He was tall and burly, with a full and bushy

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black beard and head of dark hair that looked messy

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and greasy. He was dressed in jeans, a plain colored

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T shirt and opened up workshirt, and large boots. Most

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importantly and jarringly to the father and daughter was the

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shotgun he held in his hands. Hello, Callie's dad started.

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MY name is Nathan Jannam. This is my daughter, Callie.

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We were on our way to visit some family when

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two of our tires blew. He points to their car.

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I know it's late and probably not what you wanted

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to have at your doorstep this time of night, but

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we really need help. My cell phone is close to dead.

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I do have some cash, though, if you'd be willing

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to help us, he finished, as his hand slides into

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his pocket and withdraws his wallet. I don't care get

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the man told them with growing menace. Callie shuddered at

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the look in his eyes. I'm sorry, sir, but I'm

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just a father in a bad predicament with his daughter.

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I promise if you let me use your phone, me

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and her will get out of your hair as fast

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as possible, Callie's dad said. The man held up and

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aimed the shotgun right at Calli's father. I don't give

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a shit who you are and what you want. Get

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off my property now, last warning, he told her father directly,

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before giving a look at Calli that made her skin crawl.

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Her father gulped and then sighed and took another breath. Listen, buddy,

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I'm not falling for this tough guy who lives out

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in seclusion in the wilderness. Crap, we need help. The

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least you can do if you won't help us, is

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tell us who will? Her father all but ranted. The

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man's response was a simple one. He raised his aim,

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pulled on the trigger of the shotgun, and blew the

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head of Calli's father right off. Blood and brain matter

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splattered all over the porch, as well as the man

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and Calli. She turned and looked to where her father

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had stood a moment prior, only to find him splayed

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out on the ground with his head blown open and

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a messy pile of flesh and blood and brain. Callie

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wanted to scream, but couldn't find the ability to do

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so due to the shock. Her eyes returned to the man,

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who was loading two fresh slugs into the shotgun and

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locking it into place. He pointed it at her torso

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before she knew what was happening, she jumped off the

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porch and started running across the grounds. A shot thundered

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out from the gun, and she saw the ground off

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to her sideped he missed. She kept her pace up,

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unsure of where to go or how far the man

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would give chase. Another blast from the gun echoed through

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the air, and Callie felt the ground right behind her

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at her feet blown apart. The impact on the ground

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near her caused her to stumble and then fall forward,

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slamming face down into the dirt. She felt like she

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had been punched square in the face and was dizzy.

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Her eyes fluttered open and stared ahead. Callie became grateful

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that she landed where she did, only a few inches

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away from where she fell was a snaptrap. If she

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had kept running or fell a bit farther, either her

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foot or her face would have been crushed. She got

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to her feet slowly and risked a look behind her.

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The man was all off of the porch and started

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to run toward her. Unsure of what was the best option,

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Calli looked down and around the ground. In her search,

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she found an old beer bottle and picked it up.

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Better than nothing, she told herself. Callie turned to face

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the oncoming threat, and when he was just close enough

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as he started to raise the gun, she reared back

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her arm and threw the bottle like she was trying

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to strike out a player to win a game. The

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bottle collided with the man's face and shattered. He rubbed

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and picked at his visage to remove any glass that

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might have embedded itself in his flesh. Using the opportunity

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to her advantage, Calli sprinted past the man and kept

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running past the house towards its backyard. Behind her, all

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she heard was the man, I'm gonna kill you, you

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little bitch. Calli's eyes darted around the backyard. Her options

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for a hiding spot were not the best. There was

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a shed, but surely the man would look there first,

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and it was possible that it was locked. She considered

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trying the back door, but who knew what horrors were inside.

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Callie considered hiding under the raised back porch, climbing a tree,

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or to simply keep running. Then her eyes landed on

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a doghouse which looked to be big and dug into

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a decently deep level Calli sprinted towards it and slid

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into the opening. The space inside was tight, but was

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indeed deep enough to allow her to partially crawl out

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of view, lying in the dirt. The tears finally came

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as Callie processed the last few minutes. Her father had died,

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No was slaughtered before her eyes. Her white and black

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baseball shirt was covered in his blood, and she could

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feel the wetness of brain matter on her face and

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in her hair. Daddy, she cried in her head. She

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dared not to speak and give away her hiding spot.

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Callie shook her head. Get it together. You need to

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keep it together if you want to survive, she told herself.

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How though was the question. She didn't know fully why

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she had even chosen to run to the backyard. Her

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best guess was fear that if she left the property

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that the man would pursue her and most likely get her.

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After all, he lived out here and most likely knew

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the land better than anybody. Not to mention it was

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possible he did leave the property, thinking she may have

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gone back down the mountain and could have closed and

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locked the gate, She thought about running past the backyard,

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but was unsure if and when it would stop. It

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seemed plausible the man might have another gate or fence

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somewhere behind his house. In her mind, that left one

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option the car. Calli knew her father had the keys

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with him when they went to the door, most likely

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in one of his pockets. The issue, though, was both

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being able to get to them before being caught and

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the fact that two tires were unusable. Callie didn't know

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much about cars, but she knew driving on blown out

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tires leads to driving on rims, which is an even

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worse problem. Add to that the growing darkness and her

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inability to drive, which meant it was most likely not

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a good idea. A few seconds later, though, a fresh

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idea entered Calli's head and brought a smile to her face.

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You're not safe yet, weekly Spooky will be right back.

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Her baseball stuff was in the trunk of the car,

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which meant her baseball bat was in there as well.

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If she could get the keys to the car, Callie

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could unlock the trunk, get her bat, and have a weapon. True,

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she knew a baseball bat, especially a wooden one, wasn't

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the best choice against a shotgun, but it was something Besides,

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she told herself, if you could outrun and dodge two shots,

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maybe you can do it again. When he would go

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to reload, you can go up to him and start

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beating him with the bat. Her smile turned to a

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grin as she envisioned getting revenge against the man. It

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was a risky plan, but the only feasible one Callie

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00:22:48.200 --> 00:22:52.920
could think of. She started to crawl out of the doghouse.

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She figured it might be best to run around the

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house the opposite way she came into the backyard in

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case the man was waiting for her. Callie considered crawling

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on the ground to do so, but if there was

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one spring trap on the premises, there would likely be more.

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This man clearly took any and all precautions to keep

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people away. Exiting the doghouse, Callie slowly rose to her

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feet when a thought occurred to her. There was a doghouse,

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but there didn't seem to be a dog. Unless foss

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the man's voice roared. Callie turned her attention to the

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back porch and saw the man standing There. Next to

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him was a dog, a cane corso. The moment it

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heard its master speak, it shot forward like a speeding

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train towards Calli. The plan to go around the house

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vanished as Callie began sprinting for her life back the

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way she came, with the dog in pursuit behind her.

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How am I going to get the keys and get

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away before the dog even catches me? The answer was simple,

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I'm just going to have to. Callie rounded a corner

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into the front of the grounds and turned to the porch.

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She ran towards it, with the dog barking right behind her.

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Callie jumped up the small steps and slid to a

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crash against the wall. She shook it off and hustled

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to her father and checked his pockets. The keys were gone.

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The man must have taken them, she said to herself.

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Before she could think any further, the dog jumped onto her, snarling.

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Callie remembered when a police officer visited her class and

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explained to them what to if a dog ever attacked you. Normally,

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it would be to stay still, but this was no

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ordinary dog. Callie shook her body around back and forth

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to gather any momentum she could. Feeling confident enough, Callie

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rolled her body to the side and brought the dog

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onto its side. She then gave it a hard punch

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to its chest, which elicited a yelp and a momentary

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retreat from the dog. Callie jumped to her feet. If

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I want in the trunk, I'll have to use the

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hatch in the car, she hoped and prayed the man

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hadn't locked it as she leapt off the porch and

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ran towards the car. She pulled hastily on the driver's

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side door and was relieved to find it unlocked. Callie

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quickly got inside and shut the door. A moment later,

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the dog jump against the window, barking fiercely. Callie screamed

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as she searched for the right lever to pull, pulling

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00:26:09.079 --> 00:26:12.599
on all of them just to be sure. Hearing the

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00:26:12.640 --> 00:26:16.839
trunk click and pop open, Callie breathed a sigh of relief.

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Then she stared out the front of the car and

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00:26:21.160 --> 00:26:25.880
found the dog standing by the man, his shotgun aimed

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right at the vehicle. The next thing she knew, there

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was a bang and the windshield shattered. Screaming in terror,

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Callie crawled from the driver's seat into the back. There,

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she opened a door and crawled out. Staying on the ground,

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she made her way to the back of the car,

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then moved onto her knees. Gripping the latch of the trunk,

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she pushed it open the rest of the way and

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there it was her baseball bat. She grinned as she

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pulled it out of the trunk and wielded it like

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00:27:02.200 --> 00:27:08.079
a sword. Okay, Callie, time to do either the bravest

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00:27:08.599 --> 00:27:13.319
or dumbest thing in your whole life, she said, to

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hype herself up. Callie stood up and walked around the

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car to find the man and the dog. The man

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had the shotgun aimed at her. He eyed the baseball

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bat in her hands, adjusted his aim, and fired the

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bat blew apart in Calli's hand, sending wood all over

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the ground as well as into the flesh of her hands, arms,

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and face. She fell to the ground, ears ringing from

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00:27:45.759 --> 00:27:50.200
the force of the blast, and screamed in agony. She

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00:27:50.359 --> 00:27:55.039
felt more pain than she could have ever imagined foss.

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00:27:56.160 --> 00:28:01.119
The man commanded again. She heard the snarl, but couldn't

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find the strength to move. A moment later, the dog

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00:28:05.279 --> 00:28:09.039
was on her and elicited fresh screams from her throat

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00:28:09.359 --> 00:28:13.039
as it ripped and teared into her thigh with what

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00:28:13.200 --> 00:28:17.119
strength she had, Calli beat on its head to no avail.

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Her defense only caused the dog to tighten its hold.

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It shook its head, causing more damage through growingly hazier eyes.

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Callie turned her head and saw that in her right

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hand she was still gripping the shattered and splintered remains

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of the bat. She looked at the dog, Dear God,

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00:28:43.640 --> 00:28:49.519
I'm sorry. In one furious movement, she plunged the remains

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of the bat into the neck of the beast. She

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twisted it as she pulled it out, and watched blood

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flow out of the wound barbous. The man screamed, almost

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as if the first stab filled her with more energy.

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Calli screamed as she repeatedly thrust the broken bat into

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the dog's throat and its torso her body became covered

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in its blood as life quickly drained from it. Callie

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shoved the dog off of her and slowly stood up,

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her body shaking from shock. She looked to where the

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man was and saw him running at full speed toward her.

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You have one chance, Callie, she told herself. The moment

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the man was in rage, Callie shrieked and pushed her

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body forward and plunged the remains of the bat into

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the man's hip. He howled in pain, and in response

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dropped the shotgun as he staggered back a few inches.

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Not wasting a moment, Callie picked up the shotgun and

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aimed it at the man. She watched as he pulled

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out the bat and threw it to the ground. His

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eyes moved to her, and a grin formed across his

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bearded mouth. What's you gonna do with that, bitch, he asked, tauntingly,

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I'm going to shoot you, just like you did my dad,

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Callie retorted. The man's grin widened. Really, now, sure you

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have enough strength to do it? Uh? Huh, she answered,

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knowing her strength was indeed fading fast. Are you sure

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it's loaded? The man questioned, whah, Callie responded. The man chuckled,

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What makes you so sure it's loaded? After all, you

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were in La La Land getting mauled by my dog?

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So how do you know if I ever loaded it again?

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Strike Out: A Road Trip, a Nightmare, and a Fight for Survival

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