Most nights I sleep like a literal baby.
I knock out after I am full and I wake up when I'm hungry.
It's like my internal clock. Last night however, I was
studying for my final exam and I started feeling sleepy as it was
getting really late, but I just wanted to get a few more
practice questions in before I knocked out since my eyes were
already sore from the lack of sleep.
I finished up the last of the practice questions and got onto
my bed ready for my power nap of four hours before I had to wake
up and face my biggest nightmare.
I stretch out my limbs and make my way towards my bed, getting
so ready to crash. I get under the covers and cover
every single part of my body except for my face since I like
to be swaddled when I sleep. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 20 minutes,
45 minutes. I was not falling asleep no
matter what. I wasn't hungry, I wasn't
feeling uncomfortable, but I was tired as hell.
I sat up frustrated and feeling flustered from how hard I was
trying to fall asleep. I looked around my studio
apartment and a sudden urge of needing some fresh air had me
putting on a hoodie and sweatpants.
It's literally the middle of the summer, but I was trying to make
myself look buff and like a man. I hide my hair in a bun and put
the hood over my head. Just to preface this, I never
take walks in the night time. Never.
I live in New York City and it's not even safe to walk around in
the morning, not to mention at night.
I was thinking of just standing near my building and taking a
quick breather. I wasn't planning on wandering
too far. I grab everything I need and I
head outside, but my surroundings genuinely shocked
me. The street lamps lit the streets
in every corner. There were close to no blind
spots. I live in Queens.
A more rural area, so you would have to walk a good few streets
from the resident block into an area where there are stores and
restaurants. I look around and look at my
phone. The time read 3:36 AM.
There was not a single person walking the streets.
However, there were still a few cars driving up and down the
streets. Once in a while I walked to the
end of my building and suddenly remembered there was a Chinese
BBQ restaurant that was open until 5:00 AM in the morning and
reopens at 10:00 PM that same day.
The idea of grilled chicken and beef skewers has me waddling
towards the direction of the restaurant.
The walk was fairly quiet and I slowly approached one of the
bigger intersections where the buses ran and oddly, I saw a
person. It was an old lady sitting on
the bench at the bus stop and instantly I felt a pang of
sadness hit my chest. My nose tingles and the urge to
cry rises above all my other emotions.
It was so sad to see an old lady out at this time.
It was so late and she was all by herself.
She was probably lost. I walked towards the bus stop
and I didn't want to scare her, but I also wanted to make sure
she was OK. So I stood a good 10 feet behind
her and checked the app for when the bus would arrive.
The app said that the next bus was going to be in 10 minutes,
since buses run by the hour late at night.
Sure enough, at around the 10 minute mark the bus came and I
heaved A sigh of relief, happy that the lady was going to get
help. Finally.
I start backing away slowly as I see the bus get close to the bus
stop and slightly slow down. I looked at the bus and the bus
driver took a quick glance at the bus stop before he speed
off. I stood there shocked and in
disbelief that the bus driver would leave an elderly lady
stranded in the middle of the night.
I looked down at my phone to check when the next bus was
going to arrive and it was going to be 49 minutes before the next
bus was coming through. I was racking my brain on what I
can do to help. Do I call the police and report
a lost elderly? Or do I maybe ask her where she
lives and call her an Uber, finally deciding that maybe I
should ask for her opinion first before I make a decision?
I looked up and she was gone. I couldn't have been looking at
my phone for more than a few minutes.
I jog up to the bus stop and look at all the connecting
streets to see if I can catch a glimpse of which direction she
went in so I can catch up to her.
I didn't see anyone. Maybe she's a fast Walker.
Because 2-3 minutes would be enough for me to walk a block.
Not knowing really what to do, I continue on what I came out to
do. I continued walking down and 2-3
streets later, the bustling St. came into view and it no longer
felt like 4:00 AM in the morning.
There were multiple parties of people walking up and down the
streets. I walked into the restaurant to
smell of BBQ filling every pore of my body.
I was in food heaven. I ordered a chicken and beef
skewer combo, which was 5 chicken and five beef grilled
skewers. My food was ready in 5-10
minutes and I opted to take it to go because I needed to get
home and sleep. I lost a whole hour of sleep
since I made the decision to come out and buy food.
I ate my skewers happily as I made my way back home, once
again pulling myself out of the bustling streets and into the
quiet neighborhood. I was humming softly to myself
and listening to the sound of my shoes hitting the ground.
Not just my footsteps. I hear footsteps behind me as
well. It felt like it was trying to
mask my footsteps, but always a few milliseconds slower.
I turned around. Suddenly, nervous anxiety shot
up from the pit of my stomach. My appetite dissipated within
seconds, and I saw the lady who was sitting at the bus stop
maybe 20 feet behind me. She also stopped walking, and
she was staring blankly at me, feeling slightly better since
she was an older lady and I was a healthy female college
student. I stared back at her, wondering
if she was going to approach me for help.
The silence dragged on and I started getting a little
skeptical of why we were just staring at each other.
The slight relief I felt earlier was replaced by a weird feeling
in the pit of my stomach. Before I could figure out what
to do next, I felt my feet turn around and walk towards my
house. It was like my body was telling
me to get the hell out of there. Now I was focusing 100 times
more on the sound and footsteps around me, sure enough.
I heard a set of footsteps mirroring mine and it actually
sounded closer than before. The hair on the back of my neck
stood up and a chill ran down my back.
I felt panic surge through my veins and without a second word
I sprinted down the streets. I observed my surroundings and
saw the bus stop where I first spotted the lady from the bus
stop. My building was still about 5
streets away. I continued down one more St.
before I realized all I heard was the sound of my own
footsteps and my heart pumping in my ears.
I slowly slowed down and took a quick glance behind me and I
didn't see the lady. I came to a full stop and turned
around looking for the lady. I looked further down and she
was 2 streets away from me, exactly where I left her.
Confused by this I started walking backwards down the
street towards my building and keeping my eyes strained on her. 00:07:16,690 She stood still for maybe about
a minute before she started walking towards me.
She was walking at an alarmingly slow pace, almost as if she's
saying run all you want, I will eventually catch up.
My hands ran cold from the and shook from the fear that gripped
my body. Deciding not to waste another
second out on the streets, I turned around and ran full speed
towards the direction of my building and when I was one St.
away from my building I started to slow down and started
jogging. Instead of sprinting, I took a
quick glance behind me as I continued to jog towards my
building. And what I saw made me stop to
take a closer look. The lady was on the ground, on
all fours, crawling towards me, and she wasn't crawling slowly
like a baby, she was crawling so fast.
The three St. distance I kept between us instantly became two,
and she was closing the distance between us so fast I could see
her facial features growing clearer and clearer.
She was wearing a smile that was inhumanely wide.
If a regular person tried to smile like that, it would
definitely hurt. I surge of chills ran down my
back. I felt like I was frozen in
place as she was crawling towards a screech surged through
the air, followed by a series of laughter that I can only
describe as terrifying. She was now only a street away,
and I felt tingles run down my legs before I forced myself to
run. I needed to run away.
No longer caring about the food I was still holding, I dropped
it on the ground and started running for my life, fear
gripping every cell in my body, my knees threatening to give
out. But I knew I needed to keep
running. My building was right in front
of me now, and not knowing how far back that creature was, a
scream ripped out of my throat so loud I scared myself.
I wanted others to wake up and come down and help me.
I needed to catch the attention of other people.
My studio apartment was on the third floor and I was screaming
my head off as I raced up the stairs, not knowing if the sound
of the following footsteps was simply the sound of my footsteps
bouncing off the walls or from the creature that was crawling
on all fours. But I was not about to find out. 00:09:18,750 Adrenaline course through my
body as I pulled the key out of my pocket and shoved it into the
keyhole. In one swift motion, I turned
the knob open the door and threw myself into the room, bringing
the door with me and slamming it shut.
My door automatically locks upon closing, but I had an extra
security notch, and I pulled the metal chain into the notch
before I collapsed on the ground.
Exhausted from the running, I closed my eyes, trying to calm
down my heartbeat. As I felt like I was going to
jump out of my chest, a sudden ear piercing sound froze me from
all thoughts and action. I whipped my head around and I
saw a face pressed against my window with the same wide smile,
but this time I could see her eyes.
It was as wide as golf balls and there was something different
about it. There were no pupils.
I sat on the ground in shock as I watched her run her long nails
across the window, making a noise so high pitched I had to
cover my ears. It was like the sound of forcing
a piece of chalk against the blackboard.
I jump up and run towards the door.
I unleash the chain and run across from me banging on the
door. The middle-aged couple opened
with concern on their face, told them that there was some weird
creature on my window, which obviously does sound kind of
dumb. They hesitantly make their way
to my studio apartment and look around and there was nothing
there. It was dead silent, like
everything that I saw was all in my head.
I ran towards the window and looked around and like they said
there was nothing out there. The couple patted my back and
told me to stop watching so many horror movies and help me close
my door as they return to their own homes.
Just to be sure, I made sure my window was locked and closed my
blinds before I collapsed on the ground once again.
Not sure how long I laid on the floor because when I opened my
eyes again it was due to my alarm ringing.
I know I am not dreaming because I am still in my hoodie and my
shoes are still on. And I have an exam today.
I don't know what that thing was or what it wanted from me.
I just know that I am never ever going out at night ever again.
My dog Bailey went missing a few days ago.
I'd been out all day with my friend, bearing in mind I'm
usually home the majority of the time due to being unable to
work, so the dog is never alone. And usually, if he is, it's not
for too long. I also live with my parents and
brother, so a lot of the time there's at least one person in
the house. Monday, I had gotten home later
than usual. My parents hadn't got home from
work yet, and my brother had left to stay at his
girlfriend's. A little after I'd left, as
usual, I'd walked into the house shouting to Bailee that I was
home. I walked into the kitchen to
unlock his crate and let him out when my heart sank.
The crate door was wide open. I didn't panic.
Straight away I thought maybe my brother had forgotten to put him
in his crate, although deep down I knew that the cameras, an
alarm, would have picked up any movement.
It had been about 10 minutes after I got home when I realized
that the back door was still open.
I immediately rushed outside, looking around the garden to see
if Bailey was out there. But within seconds I realized a
part of the fence was broken and he must have somehow squeezed
through it. I ended up calling my parents.
And then my brother, who was adamant that he'd locked the
back door and put the dog in his crate, although it wouldn't have
been the first time he had forgotten to do so.
I then ended up checking the cameras that in my panic I
completely forgot about this, however, freaked me out a bit.
On the camera you could clearly see my brother putting Bailey in
his crate, locking it, and then checking that all the doors and
windows were closed. My heart sank.
I felt violently ill. The only other way he could have
got out would have been if someone broke in.
The thought bought up so many questions.
How did they unlock the door? How was there nothing broken?
Why didn't the camera movement notification go off?
I forwarded the cameras to see if I could find who let him out
and open the door. Maybe my brother came back
again. I got to one part in the
recording and realized the dog was no longer in his crate.
The door was wide open as I had found it.
I went back a bit. But the recording didn't seem to
have picked up any movement between the time he was in his
crate to when he was gone. Nothing had shown up on any of
the other cameras either. At this point, everyone was
absolutely heartbroken. We didn't think anymore of the
weird situation and started asking around if anyone had seen
him. We put up posters, posted things
on social media. We were so determined to find
him, I started getting nightmares after the first night
he was gone. I'd often wake up in a cold
sweat multiple times in the night.
I couldn't stomach the awful images and thoughts surfacing in
my head about what could have happened to him.
I have been so attached to this dog.
The moment we got him to ever think that he wasn't going to
come back, the thought was just unbearable.
So when we found him today, Thursday morning, I felt like I
could actually breathe again. We were all so relieved to have
him back. That was until now.
Bailey had been off ever since we found him.
But originally it was just brushed off because he'd never
been away from us that long, and we thought it had obviously
shaken him up a bit. My parents still keep saying
that, but his eyes, they're not his eyes.
They're not those cute, innocent little puppy dog eyes.
They're dark and cold and empty. And I know you could just say
that it was from being alone outside for days, but there's
just something wrong. And I know it.
No one believes me, but that is not our dog.
Bailey was playful and would cuddle up next to you and you'd
feel so happy and loved. But this thing acts and pretends
to be Bailey. But I swear it's not the way it
stares at me like I'm some sort of prey.
When it cuddles up next to me, all I feel is cold.
My anxiety feels at an all time high, like the dog.
The thing right next to me is dangerous.
It looks at me like it knows. It knows.
I know I've ended up staying at my friend's house for a few
days. I just don't feel safe at home.
I've been looking back on the cameras over and over and I
swear I can see some kind of shadow, My friend said My brain
is making it up because I want to see something for some kind
of explanation. Maybe she's right, but I don't
know. I swear to you.
In the back of the garden, the same hour Bailey went missing,
there's a face in the bushes and it's not a human one.
The figure is so hard to see, but it looks lanky and on all
fours, and it's staring right at the camera.
That figure is the same silhouette I can see on the
kitchen floor on the camera after Bailey miraculously
disappears. It's completely unnerving.
I want to stop looking, but I can't seem to pull my face away
from the screen. I don't what's going on.
I just know that that dog at home, if it even is 1, is not
Bailey, and I have a sinking feeling it'll do anything to
make sure no one else finds out that it's not.
This is a recollection of the events that occurred on the
February of 2023. As we got out of the rented car,
my dad asked me ready for the tracks.
I replied, of course. Little did I know that I was
ready for the tracks, but not ready for what was about to
happen. We started walking towards the
seated ski lift. We entered the enclosure of the
station for the lift and as the seat slowly veered towards us,
we sat down. I asked my dad which path are we
going to ride on? My dad thinks for a few solid
seconds and then answers. Let's go off slope.
I hesitate for a second. Flashbacks in my mind, reminding
me of what off slope felt like back in Switzerland and then
agree with my dad. Yeah, let's go off slope.
Why not? We got off the lift and started
thinking, should we start here or go even further up?
We decided to go even further up, actually the furthest up we
could go. It was that decision.
The decision to go to the top of the mountain?
That proved terribly wrong. We reached the highest point you
can go to by lift. I put down my skis, my dad put
down his snowboard and we checked if everything was in our
backpacks. We brought a metallic thermos
with tea, some cookies, flashlights just in case, a few
hand warmers and a navigator. Also just in case.
I put the navigator in my left side pocket because we both had
small backpacks and it didn't fit in them.
Looks like we are ready to go, said my dad.
I nodded. I strapped into my skis and my
dad strapped on his snowboard. We took off down the mountain
and we reached a pretty high speed, quite quickly, maybe 30
or 40 kilometers per hour, I'd say.
I wanted to go in front of my dad, and I carefully overtook
him. I turned around to give him a
thumbs up, turned back around to face forward, and in one second
I was riding through the deep snow.
In the next I was flying downwards.
Everything seemed to slow down at that moment.
I looked downwards and in my seconds of flight saw something
interesting. The snow had fallen downwards,
taking me with it. At first I collided with the
hard snowy ground with my left side, but then my head caught up
and everything went black. The first thing I saw after
hitting the ground was my dad's face.
As he was trying to shake me awake.
I mumbled something incomprehensible and as I
started to wake I became aware that the navigator we brought.
Had been crushed by the fall. Oh no, I thought to myself.
As I got up, I noticed that my skis and my dad's snowboard had
been snapped by the fall, and that we were in some kind of
cavity. As I looked up, I saw the huge
height we had fallen off. A menacing question started
creeping into my mind. How are we going to get out?
The sides of the hole we had fallen into were very smooth,
and there was no way we could climb up them.
My dad came up to me and started explaining what he saw.
When I started falling, I was riding right behind you when I
saw how you quickly fell down the hole.
I tried to stop but I was too fast and fell in right behind
you. I didn't want to land on you, so
I jumped forward a bit and landed first on my board at an
angle so it snapped under all of the weight and I landed on my
butt. As we together thought of a way
out, my dad decided to knock on all sides of the supposed cave
we fell into. All the knocks were the same
until one of them sounded very hollow.
It was a sheet of ice on the wall and the first idea that
came to mind of what to do was to kick the ice down.
The sheet cracked on the second kick and completely shattered on
the 5th. As I looked inside I saw
something out of place. Metal structures.
We were looking inside a room of some sort.
The walls were white concrete and there were some kind of
metallic machines. We walked in confused and a
little creeped out. Why and when was this built?
I thought to myself. Was this maybe some secret
laboratory? It was eerily silent, except for
the occasional dripping of water.
As we walked further through the structure, the scent of mildew
and dust hit our noses, and we started seeing other metallic
machines with many different kinds of claws and hooks.
It all looked very unsettling now.
The light from the hole was fading steadily, and at some
point. We had to pull out our
flashlights when it got too dark for us to see properly.
We were maybe 10 or so minutes in is when we heard the first
sound, except for water droplets.
Since we first entered the laboratory, it was the ever so
faint sound of what appeared to be footsteps of some kind.
I gave the signal to my father to turn off our flashlights and
wait. Everything went silent for a few
moments. The steps resumed after the five
seconds that felt like hours because of the fear that
somebody was there with us. We got the chance to listen to
the footsteps closely and they sounded off.
They were offbeat and very slow. They didn't sound human.
Whatever it was, it was far away and there was no way it hurt us,
so we were relatively safe for now.
As we headed further in, I took my time to look at the equipment
scattered across the rotting tables, forgotten and seemingly
hadn't been touched for 80 years.
That theory proved correct when I saw a date on one of the
crates which was used to transport the equipment, the
crate being used in 1943. The date didn't surprise me all
that much since it all looked as old as it indicated.
My dad walked over and said 1943.
That's World War Two era. Austria was occupied by Nazi
Germany back then. What use did they have for this
lab in 1943? Nuclear or bio weapons
development? As I looked around the room
trying to spot any hints that may give away the purpose of the
underground facility, my eyes stopped on many reddish brown
stains scattered across the floor and walls.
I tried to convince myself that it was just a coffee accident
and not what it looked like. I decided to follow the stain
trail and called out to my dad to do the same.
I found out where the trail led only a 10 second walk through
the rooms to find the trail start.
It was a glass Chamber of some sort.
It has a toilet, sink, and a bed.
The bed was also stained with that putrid color of brownish
red. There was a spot on the glass
wall where the glass was broken and it seemed that someone or
something had broken out of the chamber rather than in, since
most of the glass shards were laying outside the enclosure.
And at that moment I knew what this lab was for.
It was for experimenting on people since this all happened
during World War 2. It is a solid guess that they
were experimenting on prisoners as I was looking around the in
the horror inducing chamber when I heard the footsteps again, but
this time they were louder and way faster.
I realized they were getting louder and louder each second.
It was heading toward us. I signaled my dad to keep very
quiet. I didn't notice that my
flashlight was still on, but it was already too late to turn it
off. The beam of light was pointing
directly at the thing that had been walking around the lab this
whole time. I was dead silent as I turned my
head to gaze at the creature and was horrified.
It was disturbingly humanoid, except its skin had turned a
grayish tone and its eyes were missing.
It was blind. That's it.
That's why it didn't see the beam of light.
This meant that if we were very silent, then we could sneak past
it and into another room. We were very lucky to find a
room with doors that had working locks and we sneaked inside and
as silently as we could close the doors and lock the locks, we
sat down on the floor. Tired of the mix of adrenaline
and fear. I decided to drink some tea and
eat a little bit. I opened my backpack and
realized that I hadn't closed the thermos tightly enough and
it had leaked tea into my backpack.
But the amount leaked was small. I drank the tea and ate a
cookie. I finished drinking.
I put the thermos on the floor. My dad gave me a hand warmer and
we started deciding which way we should go.
We only had two choices since there were only two doors in the
room. 1 led back to where we came from, and the other led to
the other part of the laboratory.
Well, we aren't going back to whatever the hell that thing
was, my dad reasoned. Well then the obvious choice is
the door that leads further into the lab.
I started putting my things back into my backpack, went to my
horror. The thermos I had brought with
me slipped out of my hand because it was wet from the leak
earlier. A loud bang sounded in all
directions. I quickly picked the thermos up. 00:25:00,440 The steps started again, the
loudest yet. We quickly exchanged glances
with my dad and sprinted as silently as we could out of the
room. As we ran away and closed the
doors behind us, I could hear a menacing banging on the door.
We closed. Then we heard a horrifying crack
as the locked door seemingly was bashed in by the creature.
How strong is it? I thought to myself In terror.
We speed up our Sprint as we heard of banging yet again, this
time on the other door we closed while we ran.
We ran even further when I noticed something different in
the structure of the lab. It was a staircase.
I signaled my dad to go up the stairs and we started ascending. 00:25:39,470 Even though we only went up
three stories, it felt like a lot more.
As we reached the three stories, we noticed that the stairs end
there. We ran towards what hopefully
was the exit of this wretched place.
There was a ladder, and with no hesitation I and my dad quickly
climbed up. My dad went first, so if there
was a locked pothole he could bash it open.
And bash it open he did, when we realized that it had corroded to
the ground, so we needed a lot of force to open it.
I hope the creature can't climb ladders, I thought, while the
footsteps grew ever louder. With a final thud to the rusted
metal cover, it flew open. We hurried outside with
unimaginable speed. As we got out, we noticed there
was a lock on the outer side of the cover.
What would have happened to us if it was closed?
It's best that we'll never know. With the same unimaginable
speed, we threw the cover back on the lab entrance and locked
it. My dad proposed the idea that we
put a boulder on the cover so that the creature will have no
way to get out. We can only hope that it is not
strong enough to break through, my dad said.
I was too tired to respond. I just nodded.
The adrenaline had started to wear off and before I knew it, I
collapsed into the snow. My dad lay down beside me and we
lay there for a while. After we got a little strength
back from our rest, we started a mix of climbing and sliding down
the mountain. We had ended up on the peak of
the mountain after we climbed out, and there was a pretty long
way down. As soon as we reached the first
track, we waved for people to slow down.
One person stopped to help us and we asked them to call the
helpline. We told him to call a snowmobile
and it arrived after about 15 minutes.
We were happy that the person on the snowmobile didn't ask
anything and just drove us straight to the hospital.
We were let out of the hospital the same day because we only has
minor bruises. When we arrived home that day I
just went straight to my bed and collapsed into sleep.
The next few days were spent mostly trying to find any
information about a laboratory in the Austrian mountains and
found nothing except on the 5th day of research.
When I was ready to give up, I found a website with what
appeared to be info on the lab. It was some kind of website, and
the first thing I saw when I went to see it was the big
message, not secure. I didn't hesitate even for one
second. I immediately clicked on the
button Proceed to the website. The website looked sketchy as
hell, but I was very desperate for information.
I read the text and it said this.
The laboratory was built in the Austrian Alps in late in the
year 1940 and it was used to experiment on humans.
The laboratory had been known to infect people with several
parasites and viruses, but it was quickly abandoned in May of
1945. The most probable cause of its
abandonment is the end of World War 2, but it is not certain.
The laboratory has not been found.
Even to this day, its location is unknown.
I didn't know what to think of this.
I accepted this as truth because of what I've seen.
I went to bed and didn't think of the incident much until one
day early Monday morning, July 10th, 2023 at about 12:50 AM.
I was driving Matt's 2020 Toyota Yaris back to his house.
After getting some gas and going to the local 24/7 CVS.
He asked about Tower St. in Bristol.
We were in central East Providence at this point.
He asked me if I had ever been there or heard of it.
When I told him I had never heard of it, let alone been
there, he told me about a time that he went when he was young.
I will paraphrase what he said when he was younger.
He went there with a group of friends.
They went about halfway down the street and shut the car off and
stayed there for about 30 to 40 minutes.
When they turn the car back on, there was riding in the fog on
the windows. I wish this is what happened
when he and I went. This is what happened when Matt
and I went to the cursed Rd. We turn onto the road and there
was this relatively newly developed neighborhood at the
top of the street. So we roll through the
neighborhood at a reasonable pace.
Once we got to where the street lights stop, the woods take over
the road. We got to the first bend and
then we saw about 10 to 15 deer just standing there on the road. 00:30:08,800 I slowly cruised past them,
using the horn when necessary to scare them out of the road.
At the second bend in the road, stuff got even sketchier.
At this point the trees enveloped the road completely to
the point where we couldn't see the sky or moonlight anymore.
We kept going until we got to the point of the road that is
private turned around. Shut the car off and waited for
the lights to turn off. After about one or two minutes
of complete silence and darkness, our eyes started to
adjust to the darkness. I looked in the rear view mirror
and saw this large, emaciated figure that was about 8 feet
tall. It looked like a mix of a man
and a buck standing on its hind legs, walking toward us slowly.
At the same time, I saw this figure in the rear view mirror.
Matt saw a glowing white figure about 5 or 6 feet tall with a
wispy tail cross the road quickly.
It was about two car lengths in front of us.
I looked down from the mirror and saw the same thing and
immediately turned the car on, slammed it into drive and
floored it out of there. It didn't end there.
The creature I saw in the rear view mirror started chasing us
and kept up with us. At this point I looked down at
the speedometer and we are going 120 plus mph.
We hit a hill. And the wheels left the road
surface. The view of the creature was
obstructed temporarily. When the car landed back on the
ground, the creature was even closer than before.
This creature kept tailing us until we left the forested area
and got back to the neighborhood where I felt safe enough to slow
down to an average speed. We drove back to Matt's house in
utter disbelief and silence. When we got home we checked the
outside of the car and written in the dirt on the back of the
car were the words LEAVE now. After reading this, my side
started to burn. It was as if I just got
scratched when I lifted my shirt.
I asked Matt if there was anything there and sure enough
there were three scratch Marks and perfect lines.
Like someone took their middle three fingers and dragged them
along my side. Please someone help me find out
what this was. My friend and I both work as
nurses at the same hospital. It kind of makes the insane
hours bearable. We generally don't have much
time to hang out, but whenever we run into each other we crack
a joke or two unless we really don't have time.
About two months ago, I ran into him on my way to the break room. 00:32:38,280 We joked around for a little bit
and he seemed to have some time on his hands.
I asked him if he didn't have anything to do.
He told me about a new patient that had just come in.
A young man, maybe early 20s. Nothing seemed wrong with the
man, but he was completely unable to move.
After some tests, the doctors were left clueless, but we're
sure the man was stable, so they left him for the time being.
My friend, however, was asked to stay close, to observe and to
make notes if anything unusual happened.
My friend told me he just briefly left the room because he
felt a bit uneasy. I laughed at him and jokingly
started making fun of him. Scared of a paralyzed man, be
careful now, Maybe he'll turn into a sleep paralysis demon.
He chuckled, but he didn't bite back like he usually would.
He seemed nervous and told me to come into the room with him.
When we got close to the bed, I understood what freaked him out
so much. The man, while lying completely,
still, barely even breathing, had his eyes open and they were
staring straight at me, following me through the room as
we slowly approached. I got nervous too.
This wasn't very common. I greeted him and asked him to
blink if he could hear me. He didn't.
His eyes remained open for an unnaturally long time.
See. Freaky, isn't it?
My friend whispered. But as soon as he did, the man's
eyes rolled back into his head, and after what seemed like an
eternity, when they eventually rolled back, his piercing eyes
were now focused on my friend. I told my friend that that's
definitely not normal and we should inform a doctor, but he
didn't respond. He was staring right back at the
man, eyes wide open. I thought he was joking at
first, so I laughed nervously and hesitantly punched him on
the shoulder, but he didn't respond at all.
His body didn't even move on the impact.
My break was halfway over at that point, and I really didn't
feel like staying there any longer, so I left looking for a
doctor. I didn't want to be embarrassed,
so I didn't really tell her any details, just that there was
something she should see and that my friend was too busy
making notes to leave. Luckily she followed me.
But when we got to the room, everything had changed.
My friend was just sitting on a chair, notepad in hand.
The room looked brighter than before somehow, and when I
approached my friend he seemed surprised to see me there.
Haven't seen you in a minute, he said with a big smile.
Was it last week? It had been about a week ago
before I ran into him that day, but I left him in that room not
even 5 minutes prior. I, for good reason, was very
confused. When I left the room, it seemed
like he was possessed by some sort of demon, but now he was
completely fine, smiling, laughing like always.
I asked him if he was OK and he said that of course he was.
I didn't really know how to react, so I said that my lunch
time was running out and left to get a coffee.
The rest of my shift was like a normal shift, long and
exhausting. I kind of managed to forget
about what had happened and made myself believe that he was
probably pranking me or I had somehow imagined it.
I don't sleep a lot, so it added up.
I work late shifts, so when I finished it was dark outside and
the hospital was a lot quieter. Weekdays are usually not too
bad, less drunk idiots falling on their heads.
On my way out, however, I had to go past the room with the
paralyzed patient unless I wanted to double the length of
my walk. I didn't.
I decided I would just quickly walk through the corridor and
ignore the room. It couldn't hurt me anyways,
right? It was dark.
It's not like that never happened, but it definitely
wasn't common. All I could really see was the
emergency exit sign on the other side of the corridor.
I pulled out my phone, turned on my torch, and started walking.
The room was ever approaching, but I had decided to go, so I
had to commit now. When I got close, I slowed down
a little, keeping my eyes on the door, making sure it stayed
shut. But then suddenly it burst open
and my friend came stumbling out.
Eyes read like he had been crying and there were suddenly
bald spots on his head. He crawled over to me and clung
to my leg. Please Get Me Out.
I didn't know what to do so yelled for help.
No one came and he kept repeating the same phrase over
and over, louder every time. It turned to screaming more and
more powerful until he started coughing up blood.
I grabbed him by the shoulders and asked him what was wrong,
and then I realized that he hadn't blinked a single time.
Let's get out of here, Okay. I tried to sound confident and
brave, but I'm not sure I hid my fear well.
I tried to pull him up, but it was like his legs had stopped
working. His screaming stopped and he
looked me straight in the eyes. Protect me, he said.
Protect me from him when I go. His entire body went weak and he
fell to the floor. I heard a laugh from inside the
room with the paralyzed patient. I rushed in, but there was no
one there, just an open window. I looked outside but didn't see
anyone. My friend ended up in the same
bed, completely paralyzed, but his eyes always open, staring at
anyone that dares enter his room.
I haven't gone to see him since the incident, and I don't wish
to. On a camping trip with friends
in the backwoods of southern Georgia at my cousin's
grandfather's property, the really old site, he didn't
maintain it well. There was a large cabin, meeting
house, lots of property, a lake, and a large wooded area that we
like to explore. There was a river that wound
through the woods and we built huge forts along it.
We camped by the shore of the lake.
It was low, but on the opposite shore a huge Ridge rose with
trees on either side. It reminded me of a carriage Rd. 00:38:29,410 On our first night there.
We stayed up until about 1:00. I needed to use the bathroom so
I went to the meeting house since we slept in tents.
It was a wood paneled ancient building full of animal heads,
dark with few working lights. I stepped in, turned on the
light, and paused. The animal heads had all
positioned to be facing the door.
Unnerved, I used the restroom and stepped out, only to find
them looking right at me on the other side of the room from
where they were looking last. I ran out terrified, then
realized I hadn't turned off the light.
I looked back and was about to open the door to shut off.
The light went through the blinds.
I saw a black, menacing figure in the corner of the room.
This time the heads had swiveled to face it.
Then, of its own accord, the lights shut off.
I ran to my tent and zipped myself up.
I didn't sleep much that night. The next day we were exploring
the woods and discovered two places that, unbeknownst to us,
would be the most terrifying places we had ever been later
that night. We had built a Fort along the
river earlier that day and we were following the river up when
we came across a peculiar structure, a large triangular
fortlike place made of what appeared to be tree roots.
It was like a lean to and was covered on the sides and top
like a pyramid, but one side was slightly open like an entrance.
Near the structure in an opposite triangle were three
very deep holes. We were careful not to step in
these. Inside the structure was a
triangle like object on the floor made of what appeared to
be finely whittled wood, very old and covered in an
unrecognizable Hieroglyph typewriting.
We chose not to disturb this but to mark the spot and give us an
observation point. We laid logs across a nearby
ditch in a Vietnam style dugout and placed some large sticks
with flags tied to them on top so we could see the colors and
know the spot. Then we found the Ridge.
The Ridge started deep in the woods, almost parallel to our
campsite, then wound to the lake and made-up most of the opposite
shore. We walked along it for about 15
minutes and noticed that the path was like a tree tunnel and
the fallen leaves were well trodden, the path flat like a
carriage trail. All of a sudden we saw in the
middle of the path and RV. Not just any RV, but an ancient
RV from like the 60s, like a van.
We walked up and inspected it. It was filled with dust and the
inside had obviously not seen daylight in years, with
prominent sun marks on the seats, and yet the inside was
full of large boxed packages and files.
I tugged on the handle and tried to enter.
To my friend's delight, the door gave way and I found a file
sitting on the seat. It was very dusty, so I slapped
it against the dash and the dust fell away to reveal very faded
letters. The only non faded or humidified
characters were the large bold printed letters at the top.
It read GAY site 16 Anomalous behavior detected structures
Common manifestation present keep high alert level.
I noticed the boxes and pulled one over opening the lid.
It had a bunch of the finely whittled sticks, a gooey black
substance in a jar, and what appeared to be an etched
polished metal sphere. The note in the box read STATION
UNSAFE. Will begin remote monitoring.
The situation still undefined. No further progress.
Holes still prevalent. I was very puzzled, so I pulled
over another piece of paper lying on the seat.
It seemed newer than the others, but still old, with a hole
running along the edge, The decaying carcass of a bug lying
stuck to the paper. I picked it up and read.
Gay site, 16 weekly instruction. Inspect Lake floor and
direction. Bravo.
Owner expected to arrive soon. Be ready to Stow equipment.
Another structure has appeared 0.6 miles away from your post,
direction 223, and I assumed the structures were referring to the
wooden site, and that manifestation could refer either
to weird occurrences or the black figure I had seen earlier. 00:42:40,130 On our walk back, I and my
friends felt like we were being watched and I turned around to
see a black figure dart behind a tree.
We began to Sprint and I kept seeing it in my periphery.
However, later that day we were brainstorming what it might have
been, and I realized that the neighbors bred black labs and
that the figure I saw was probably one of his dogs chasing
us. We went fishing that afternoon
and I caught a large black eel, slick and eyeless.
It had large teeth and tried to snap at my fingers.
I threw it back, terrified, and it went back into the water.
I discovered later that eels were not supposed to be living
in that lake, and their appearance was unexpected.
There was not a species nearby that matched what I had seen
that night. We played manhunt and I went
deep into the woods and hid with a friend in the dugout we built
near the structure about 10 minutes into hiding.
It's about 11:30. We saw a large black figure
about 10 feet in height rise from the structure and start
walking slowly towards our dugout.
It was a low to the ground dugout with an entrance in the
front and the back. We sprinted out the back
entrance and towards our tents. We turned and saw the creature
sprinting after us, catching up quickly.
Suddenly, the creature stopped and looked at the Ridge behind
it at a very specific spot. It was a spot about 300 yards
beyond the RV. Suddenly, there was a muzzle
flash from the Ridge and the creature started getting pelted
with rounds of some caliber. It screeched and began sprinting
up the Ridge, passing the RV in seconds as it passed, the lights
flickered on in the RV and then off again.
The creature was beyond view in the darkness, but we heard
screams of someone fat along the Ridge.
We slept inside the meeting house that night, and a
thunderstorm rolled in. I woke up about 4:00 AM to see
the creature standing about 10 yards away from the cabin,
windows, head obscured. I did a double take and it was
gone that morning. We took some knives and walked
to where the screams came from the night before.
We could see that the shots had come from what we now realized
was the neighbor's property. He stumbled over about 10:00
o'clock the next day to say that he had shot at the creature
thinking it was going to go after his dogs.
He was a fervent conspiracy theorist and thought it was
Bigfoot. It had come after him and he
went inside his house and hid in his upstairs.
Later that day we saw a fire coming from the Ridge and saw
that the structure had burned to a crisp.
That night we were sitting in the pickup truck bed and saw the
RV turn on and drive off the Ridge into the lake.
Before it hit the water, the water rose up as if to grab the
RV and it was swallowed up. We freaked out and never camped
there again. As I stand in our cramped city
apartment, staring at the dust laden camping gear sprawled out
across the living room floor, a sense of excitement courses
through me. The jumbled mess of tents,
sleeping bags, and hiking boots is, to anyone else, just a
chaotic pile of junk. But to Randy and me, it's a
collection of memories. Each piece tells a story of
adventures past and beckons us toward those yet to come.
You ready for this, Jess? Randy's voice pulls me from my
reverie. I turn to see him standing by
the window, sunlight filtering in and casting a warm glow over
him. His blue eyes hold the same
flicker of anticipation that I'm sure mirrors my own.
Absolutely, I say, grinning at him.
The Appalachian Mountains, here we come.
There's something inexplicably alluring about the wild,
unadulterated wilderness. The rush of freedom, the escape
from the city's monotonous cacophony, the enchanting
stillness. It's intoxicating.
We've always shared this love, Randy and I, since the day we
met. Our shared passion for the
outdoors has been a cornerstone of our relationship.
We're just two souls seeking thrill and solace in nature's
arms. As we load our gear into the
car, the reality of our adventure begins to sink in.
This isn't just another weekend getaway.
The Appalachians have a reputation for their rugged,
pristine beauty and a haunting allure that has often been
cloaked in local folklore. But we've laughed off the tails,
eager to create our own narrative, Last chance to back
out. Randy jokes as he slams the
trunk shut. I chuckle playfully, nudging him
and miss out on all the fun. No way.
As we begin our journey, the city's concrete skyline quickly
gives way to sprawling green landscapes.
The road ahead is long, leading us into the heart of the
Appalachian range. There's an odd feeling, a mix of
excitement and a hint of anxiety that lingers as if whispering of
the unexpected trials were bound to face.
Through the rearview mirror, I watch our city life fade into
the distance. I feel an inexplicable pull in
my gut, a silent call from the wild that makes my heart race.
As the miles roll by in the cityscape dissolves into dense
forests and towering mountains, a profound sense of calm washes
over me. We're leaving behind the world
we know, venturing into the unknown.
The thrill of what lies ahead overshadows any lingering fear.
Our chatter gradually fades into comfortable silence.
The landscapes rolling past our windows tell tales of their own,
a vibrant blend of changing hues under the setting sun.
The closer we get to our destination, the more pronounced
the mountain range becomes, its majestic peaks kissing the sky
even as the sunsets casting long shadows over the winding Rd. the
sense of tranquility remains unbroken.
Our smiles are wide and our spirits are high.
We are blissfully unaware of the creeping horrors that lurk
within those captivating depths. Ready to shatter our serenity
into 1000 fragments, The Appalachian Mountains are
calling and we are eager to answer.
Little do we know that this journey, meant to be an escape
from urban monotony, will instead become a test of courage
and survival that will change us forever.
We wake up to the crisp, clean air of the Appalachians on our
first morning. It's a far cry from the city
smog we're used to. Breathing in.
Stretching out of our tent, I take in the serenity of our
surroundings, the calm mountain lake.
The lush forest teeming with the morning songs of unseen birds
and the cool breeze rustling through the leaves, The piece
that washes over me is unlike anything I've ever experienced.
Randy, always the early riser, has breakfast ready, a simple
meal of eggs and bacon cooked over our small campfire.
As we eat, we talk about the hike we plan for the day, the
trails we want to explore, our voices carrying through the
quiet forest days pass in blissful monotony.
Hikes during the day, campfires At night, we share stories,
laugh, and bask in the wild beauty that surrounds us.
But slowly, subtly, things start to change.
One night, as we settle in our tent, a whisper of a breeze
brushes past us, carrying what sounds like distant, indistinct
chatter. We brush it off as the wind,
playing with the leaves, or maybe a distant stream.
But then we hear it again, the murmuring, almost as if the wind
itself is speaking. It's an odd sensation that sends
a chill down my spine. We start noticing other things
too, like the sudden drops in temperature that make our
campfire flicker and die, replaced by an unsettling cold
that wraps itself around us. Or the shadows that seem to move
at the corner of our eyes, disappearing when we turn to
look directly at them. The worst, though, is the
feeling of being watched. It's a constant nagging
sensation that raises the hairs on the back of our necks.
Turning our peaceful retreat into a place of uneasy
vigilance. Probably just some wildlife,
Randy says, trying to laugh off our fears.
But I can see the worry etching lines into his usually calm
face. Our laughter becomes less
frequent, our conversations more hushed, as if we are intruding
upon something sacred, something we aren't supposed to disturb.
Despite our growing unease, we decide to stay, attributing our
fears to our urban minds unaccustomed to the true
wilderness. We rationalize the strange
happenings, put on brave faces, and continue our exploration of
the Appalachian range. But every rustle of leaves,
every creaking branch sends us into heightened alertness.
As time passes, our once peaceful campsite starts feeling
more like a prison, hemmed in by invisible watchers and whispers
that can't be traced to any source.
The beauty of the Appalachians is still present, but now it's
overshadowed by an undercurrent of fear that taints every site.
Every sound, our days of carefree exploration are
replaced by nights of restless sleep, punctuated by disturbing
dreams and the eerie, nocturnal sounds of the forest.
We clutch each other tighter, seeking comfort in the shared
terror that something is out there lurking just beyond our
sight. Our once cherished adventure is
no longer the escape we had envisioned.
The serene stillness of the Appalachian wilderness has
transformed into an eerie silence heavy with dread.
We try to dismiss our fears, to laugh off the strangeness as
mere tricks of our minds. But as we Burrow deeper into our
sleeping bags, the cold reality sinks in.
We are not alone in this vast, untamed wilderness and whatever
shares our space. It's watching us.
Feeling hemmed in by the unseen watchers of our campsite, we
decide to take a longer hike, hoping to find some respite and
movement in the distraction of exploring.
We pack our gear and set off into the heart of the forest.
The farther we track, the more overwhelming the presence of the
mountains becomes, A massive living entity, both alluring and
intimidating. It's during this hike that we
stumble upon the old cabin, tucked away in a dense cops of
trees. It's a worn down, lonely
structure. It's wooden planks weathered by
time and elements. Moss and vines crawl up its
walls, nature slowly reclaiming what was once its own.
There's an eerie stillness around it, a heavy air of
forgotten tails. Curiosity peaked.
We venture closer. Randy pushes open the creaking
door, revealing an interior as abandoned as the outside
suggested. Dusty furniture, a moth eaten
rug, a fireplace filled with long extinguished ashes.
Yet despite its derelict appearance, it feels like we're
trespassing, stepping into a place where we don't belong in
the corner. We find a box filled with old
journals. The faded pages tell stories of
a time long past, of the people who once lived here, of harsh
winters and fruitful summers. But the more we read, the more
we uncover unsettling tales of a sinister being that's part of
the local folklore. A skinwalker, the journals call
it. A creature capable of changing
its form, taking on the guise of any creature it wishes, even
humans. As I read the detailed accounts
of its shape, shifting abilities, its talent for
mimicry, a cold shiver runs down my spine.
The Erie accounts match too closely with our own experiences
in the campsite. We share a look, a mutual
understanding passing between us, the whispers in the wind,
the moving shadows, the chilling sensation of being watched.
All signs point to the presence of this creature from the local
lore, but our logical minds struggle to accept this
possibility. Attempting to dismiss the tales
as mere superstition, an exaggerated product of isolation
and fear, as we exit the cabin, the dusk setting in, we find
ourselves enveloped in an oppressive silence, the forest
holding its breath. We make our way back to our
campsite, the forest looming around us and unspoken fear
gnawing at our insides. That night, huddled in our tent,
we discussed the legend of the skinwalker.
Randy tries to rationalize it. The scientist in him refusing to
believe in such folklore. But his voice lacks conviction
and his darting eyes betray his apprehension.
I too, want to dismiss the tales, to believe we're just two
city dwellers out of our depth. But the unease has burrowed deep
within me. Refusing to be shaken off.
Every Creek of a branch, every rustle of leaves, is a reminder
of the terror we're potentially facing.
Despite our skepticism, the cabin and its disturbing legend
have sown the seeds of doubt within us.
As darkness envelops our campsite, we find ourselves
trapped in a reality where the boundary between rational
skepticism and the unnerving local folklore is blurring.
We may have started this journey laughing off the tales of the
Appalachians, but now we lay awake listening to the whispers
of the night, wondering if we've stepped into our very own folk
tale. The following day is
overshadowed by the knowledge of the skinwalker legend.
We stick closer to our campsite. Our adventurous spirits dampened
by a tangible fear despite our efforts to laugh it off, to
immerse ourselves in the natural beauty around us, the unease is
palpable. The turning point comes as
twilight bleeds into the night. We're huddled around our dying
campfire when we hear it, a grotesque guttural howl that
cuts through the forest's ambient noise, chilling our
blood. The sound is neither human nor
animal, a distorted amalgamation that sets our nerves on edge.
Then, from the shadows at the edge of our campsite, it
emerges, caught in the dim glow of our campfire.
It appears to be caught between forms, half human, half beast, a
distorted living nightmare. Its eyes glow with an eerie,
unnatural light, its mouth twisted in a cruel grin, a
perverse mockery of a human smile.
Our terror is absolute, paralyzing the abstract fear
that had lurked on the edges of our thoughts since our arrival
at the Appalachians. Is suddenly horrifyingly
concrete. The creature before us is the
living embodiment of the local folklore we had dismissed so
easily, so arrogantly, a skin Walker.
In the silence that follows, the skin Walker lets out a series of
bone chilling screams, mimicking the sounds of our terrified
gasps with an accuracy that makes my stomach churn.
Then, with one last piercing gaze, it retreats into the
forest, it's grotesque form melting away into the darkness.
The shock leaves us frozen, the fire dying to embers.
In the deafening silence, I can see the terror reflected in
Randy's eyes, a mirror of my own.
The skinwalker is real, and we are trapped in its territory.
We retreat into our tent, but the thin fabric feels laughably
insufficient against the monstrous creature lurking in
the forest. Every sound outside is amplified
in our minds, every rustle of potential attack, every gust of
wind a threat. Neither of us sleep.
We lie awake, our bodies rigid with fear, jumping at every
nocturnal sound. The forest, once a place of
peace and tranquility, has become a terrifying,
inhospitable wilderness teeming with hidden horrors.
We're prisoners of our fear of the skinwalker that has claimed
the forest as its domain. As the night stretches on, we
hold on to each other. Our shared terror, a cold, hard
reality that we can't escape our peaceful retreat, has turned
into a Horror Story. The local legend we had
dismissed so easily, proving to be our terrifying reality.
Our world has changed, Our perspective shifted.
Our wilderness adventure has morphed into a survival
nightmare, a test of our courage against an unimaginable terror.
The Skin Walker's existence has shattered our skepticism,
plunging us into a world where nightmares come to life.
We are no longer just campers, we are prey.
As dawn breaks, Randy and I share a wordless understanding.
We can't stay here any longer. We hastily break down our
campsite, our movements quick and erratic, fueled by
adrenaline and fear. We barely speak, our
conversations reduced to whispered instructions as we
prepare for our trek back. Our journey through the woods is
a desperate escape. We move quickly, alert to every
noise, every shift in the shadows.
The fear that has been our constant companion since our
encounter with the Skinwalker seems to have permeated the
forest. Turning the beautiful wilderness
into a twisted maze of terrors, we take turns leading the way,
our eyes continuously scanning the dense underbrush for signs
of the creature. Several times we think we catch
sight of its distorted form, half hidden among the trees, but
each time it disappears before we can be sure the feeling of
being hunted, of being watched, never leaves us.
The hours blur together as we hike the journey, seeming to
stretch on forever. Our exhaustion is eclipsed by
the fear that propels us forward.
We share little food and water between us, our basic needs
becoming secondary to our desperation to escape.
As we trudge on, the sun begins to set, painting the sky and
hues of orange and pink. It's beautiful, but the
impending darkness sends a shiver of fear down our spines.
Nightfall means greater danger, the shadows providing perfect
cover for the skin Walker. Just when it seems like we won't
make it out before nightfall. We break through the tree line,
the sight of our car a beacon of hope in the gathering dusk.
Relief washes over us as we stumble towards it, our
exhaustion and terror momentarily forgotten.
We scramble into the car, are shaky hands fumbling with the
keys before the engine roars to life.
As we drive away, the imposing silhouette of the Appalachian
range in our rearview mirror feels more like a menacing
spectre than the beautiful landmark it was when we first
arrived. Our escape from the forest
doesn't erase our fear. Instead, it feels like we're out
running it, leaving it behind in the wilderness where it belongs. 01:00:46,250 The terror of the skinwalker
still clings to us, a chilling reminder of the nightmare we've
survived. Our wilderness adventure, the
one that was supposed to bring us closer to nature, has instead
instilled in us a fear we can't shake off.
The escape has left us feeling battered and broken, our nerves
frayed, our courage tested. We may have physically escaped
the grasp of the skinwalker, but mentally it's still with us,
haunting our thoughts, tainting our memories as we leave the
mountains behind. Our silence isn't just a product
of our exhaustion, it's a reflection of our shared trauma,
our shared fear. We came to the Appalachian
Mountains seeking peace and found horror instead.
Our love for camping for the wilderness is now overshadowed
by the terror of our encounter. A terror that will follow us
long after we've left the mountains behind.
Back in the safety of our city apartment, the terror of the
Appalachian seems like a distant nightmare.
But as night falls, the memories come flooding back, the images
of the skinwalker burned into our minds.
In the harsh light of day, it's easy to dismiss it all as an
overactive imagination, a trick of the shadows.
But at night, the whispers of the forest, the distorted figure
of the creature. The terror that gripped us.
It all comes rushing back, chillingly real.
The terror isn't confined to our dreams.
In the quiet of our home, I catch Randy glancing over his
shoulder, his eyes wide, as if he expects the skinwalker to
emerge from the shadows. I find myself doing the same,
the quiet of the city night somehow echoing the oppressive
silence of the forest. Our shared experiences have
created a bond between us. A shared understanding of the
terror we survived. We seek comfort in each other.
Yet there's an unspoken fear that lingers between us, a
haunting memory of the horrors we faced.
We attend therapy sessions trying to make sense of our
experience, to label it as a shared hallucination, a product
of isolation and wilderness induced fear.
But the terror persists, seeping into our everyday lives, turning
every shadow into a potential threat.
Every sound into a reminder of that night in the forest.
Our love for camping for the wilderness has been replaced by
a fear so deep it's tangible. The prospect of venturing into
the wilderness again fills us with dread, the memories of the
Appalachians serving as a grim reminder of the horrors that
lurk in the shadows. Despite the distance, despite
the safety of our city life, the Appalachians haunt us.
We're forever marked by our encounter.
The skin Walker, a specter that lingers on the fringes of our
reality. We can't escape it, can't erase
the memories, can't forget the terror.
One night, as I lay awake, trapped in the purgatory between
sleep and wakefulness, I hear it.
A sound outside our window, a distorted, guttural howl that
sends a jolt of fear through me. I turned to Randy, who's wide
awake, his eyes mirroring my own terror.
The sound echoes through the Silent City night.
A haunting reminder of our encounter.
We hold each other close, our hearts pounding, The chilling
reminder of the skinwalker filling the room.
The nightmare isn't over. It's followed us home, turning
our haven into another forest, another hunting ground.
We're still pray, our home, just another campsite.
The sound fades away, but the fear remains, a constant
reminder of the horror that's now part of our reality.
As dawn breaks, we're left with a chilling realization.
We escaped the forest and outran the skinwalker, but we didn't
leave the terror behind. It followed us, embedding itself
in our lives, transforming our reality into a waking nightmare. 01:04:34,990 The skinwalker isn't just a
creature in the forest, it's a terror that's become a part of
us, a haunting memory that's crossed the boundary into our
reality. Our story didn't end with our
escape. It was just the beginning.