Choose the van life. It chose me.
I say that at the end of every video I post on Tiktok.
Living in my van has been an adventure for the past eight
months, but lately I've been thinking maybe it's time to
settle down. It's not that I don't love the
freedom and the peace, it's just that sometimes the loneliness
gets to you. Anyway, today was like any other
day. I edited a couple of videos, ate
some leftover meatloaf for lunch, and played video games
until it started getting dark. I parked my van at a campground
near the Idaho Rockies, a place I've never been before.
It was quiet, peaceful, and totally deserted, which was fine
by me. The snow from a recent storm
still covered the ground, but it wasn't too deep.
It was chilly, but I didn't mind.
I liked being out here alone, away from everything and
everyone. I set up a small fire pit and
got a little fire going outside the van.
The warmth from the flames felt good against the cold mountain
air. I sat there for a while, just
listening to the crackling of the fire and the occasional
rustle of the wind through the trees.
There were no other cars in the parking lot, which wasn't
surprising since this place was pretty far from any town.
It was just me, my van, and the Rockies.
After a while, the sun started to set, painting the sky with
shades of pink and orange. It was one of those moments that
make living in a van worth it. But then my radio crackled to
life with a sudden weather alert.
A Blizzard was coming, and it would hit in less than an hour.
I felt a bit of panic rise in my chest, but I told myself to stay
calm. I've been through storms before,
and I know how to handle them. I quickly put out the fire,
packed up my things, and climbed back into the van.
I turned on the propane heater and checked that everything was
secure. The wind was picking up and I
could see the snow starting to fall.
I wasn't too worried though. I had plenty of blankets and my
van was well insulated. I even had enough food and water
to last a few days if needed. I figured I would just wait it
out until the storm passed. The Blizzard hit with a
vengeance. The wind howled around my van,
rocking it back and forth. Snow piled up fast, covering the
windows and blocking out any light from the outside.
It was like being in a small moving box, surrounded by a sea
of white. I wrapped myself in blankets and
tried to focus on something else, but it was hard to ignore
the storm raging outside. After a few hours, the van
finally stopped shaking so much and I started to feel drowsy.
I fell asleep thinking about how I would get out of here once the
storm was over. But then something woke me up.
A strange silence had settled around me.
The wind had stopped and there was this eerie quiet.
I sat up, suddenly feeling very uneasy.
Something didn't feel right, but I didn't know what it was.
Little did I know my van life adventure was about to take a
terrifying turn. I woke up to this weird heavy
silence. After hours of the wind howling
and snow battering my van, the sudden quiet was almost scarier
than the storm itself. I sat up and rubbed my eyes,
trying to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine.
The van was still no more rocking from the wind.
For a moment I thought maybe the storm had finally passed.
I thought about going outside to check how bad the snow was, but
I felt this strange hesitation. I couldn't see out the windows
because they were completely covered in snow.
I figured the snow was probably several feet deep by now.
As I was getting dressed to go outside, I suddenly heard
something that made my blood run cold.
Crunch, crunch, crunch. It sounded like footsteps, heavy
ones. Trudging through the deep snow.
My heart started pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
My first thought was that it could be an animal, a moose, or
maybe even a bear. I froze, straining my ears to
listen. The footsteps were getting
closer, and they didn't sound like any animal I knew.
They were slow and deliberate, like someone walking toward the
van on purpose. I held my breath, trying not to
make a sound. I hoped whoever or whatever it
was would just go away. But then it stopped, right
outside the back of the van. My van doesn't have windows in
the back, so I couldn't see anything.
I just sat there, paralyzed with fear, hoping it was all just my
imagination. Then I heard it.
Hello in there, may I have a word with you?
It was a voice, A little girl's voice.
My heart skipped a beat. What was a child doing out here
in the middle of nowhere right after a Blizzard?
The voice was soft and sweet, but something about it was off.
It sounded too calm, too normal for someone who should be
freezing in the snow. I didn't say anything, I didn't
even breathe. I kept hoping if I stayed silent
it would go away, but the voice spoke again, this time a bit
more impatient. I just need a tooth.
Do you have 1A tooth? My mind was racing.
What kind of question was that? Was someone playing a prank on
me? I couldn't figure out what was
going on, but I knew this was no ordinary situation.
My instincts were screaming at me to stay quiet and not answer.
Then the voice changed. It grew deeper, darker, almost
growling. Give me a tooth or I will RIP
them from your skull 1 by 1. I felt a wave of terror wash
over me. My hands were shaking
uncontrollably as I fumble around for anything I could use
as a weapon. All I had was a hammer, which I
grabbed and held tightly. I felt like it was useless
against whatever was out there. My eyes darted around the van,
looking for something, anything to help me.
That's when I remembered the shark tooth hanging from my
visor. It was just a souvenir from a
beach trip, but right now it was my only hope.
With trembling hands, I tore it off the string and moved slowly
to the back of the van. I have a tooth, I managed to
whisper, my voice shaky. Throw it out now.
The voice demanded, so loud it made the van shake.
I slid the van door open just enough to toss the tooth into
the snow, then I slammed it shut and locked it, my heart pounding
like crazy. There was a moment of silence,
then a loud bang on the back door, followed by a scratching
sound that made my skin crawl. Thanks for the tooth, the voice
said sweetly, like a little girl again.
I heard the humming start up again, followed by the sound of
those heavy footsteps walking away from my van.
I didn't move, didn't breathe until I couldn't hear them
anymore. My whole body was shaking and I
felt like I was going to be sick.
Whatever just happened, I knew one thing for sure, I was
getting out of here as soon as I could.
I sat in my van, my whole body trembling.
I couldn't believe what had just happened.
My mind was racing with questions.
Who or what was that? And what kind of creature asks
for a tooth in the middle of a snowstorm?
I didn't want to stick around to find out if it was coming back.
I needed to get out of here and fast.
I scrambled to the front of the van and turned the key in the
ignition. For a moment, nothing happened.
My heart sank, but then the engine roared to life.
Relief washed over me. I let the van warm up for a
minute, then put it in gear and started driving.
The snow was piled up high, making it hard to see, but I
didn't care. I just had to get away from that
place. I kept glancing in the rear view
mirror, half expecting to see something chasing after me.
My hands were shaking on the steering wheel and my breath was
coming in short, ragged gasps. The radio was just static, so I
turned it off. I needed to focus on getting out
of there. The snow was deep and the road
was slippery, but I pushed on, not daring to slow down.
After a few minutes, I thought I was in the clear.
There was no sign of that thing, whatever it was.
I started to relax a little, thinking maybe I'd escaped.
That's when I noticed something in the rear view mirror.
My stomach dropped. There was a dark silhouette,
barely visible through the swirling snow, following behind
the van. It was moving fast, almost
gliding over the snow. Panic surged through me.
I pressed down on the gas pedal, trying to put more distance
between us. The van struggled in the deep
snow, skidding a bit, but I managed to keep it on the road.
I glanced back in the mirror. The figure was still there,
keeping up with me easily. It didn't make sense.
How could anything move that fast in this weather?
I needed to lose it somehow. Up ahead I saw a narrow side Rd.
leading into a forested area. Without thinking, I turned onto
it, hoping the trees would help hide me.
The van bumped and jolted over the rough Rd., but I kept going.
I couldn't see the figure anymore, but I didn't feel safe.
It was like a heavyweight pressing down on my chest, this
feeling of being watched. Then the van's engine sputtered
and died. No, not now.
I turned the key, trying to start it again, but it just made
a clicking noise. I was stranded.
My heart pounded in my ears as the silence of the forest closed
in around me. The only sound was my own ragged
breathing. I didn't dare look in the mirror
again. I didn't want to see what might
be out there. And then I heard it.
The soft, eerie humming that I'd heard earlier.
It was coming from all around me, filling the van with that
haunting melody. My hands gripped the steering
wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.
I didn't know what to do. I was trapped, alone in the
middle of nowhere, with that thing closing in on me.
Suddenly, the van door burst open, letting in a gust of
freezing wind and snow. I screamed, scrambling back
against the seat. In the mirror, I saw it.
A face, pale and twisted, with eyes that gleamed in the
darkness. Its mouth curled into a creepy
smile as it stared at me. I could hear its voice, clear as
day, whispering in my ear. Thanks for the tooth.
That was the last thing I remember before everything went
black. When I came to, I was lying on
the cold ground outside the van. The door was still open, snow
piling inside. My head was pounding and I felt
this deep, bone chilling cold. I stumbled to my feet, looking
around. There was no sign of the
creature, but I knew it had been real.
I knew it had been here. I climbed back into the van, my
hands shaking as I shut the door and locked it.
I tried to start the engine again, and this time it roared
to life. I didn't waste any time.
I drove out of there as fast as I could, not looking back.
I didn't care where I was going, as long as it was far away from
that place. As I drove, I glanced at the
visor where the shark tooth had been.
The string was still there, dangling, but the tooth was
gone. My whole body shuddered as I
realized it had taken the tooth just like it said it would.
I drove all night, not stopping until I saw the lights of a town
in the distance. I don't know what that thing was
and I don't ever want to find out.
All I know is that my van life days are over.
I'm done. That creature got what it wanted
and I'm not sticking around to see if it comes back for more.
My name is Jen and I'm from Spokane, WA.
I'm going to try my hand at telling a true scary story about
something that happened to me during a solo camping trip last
fall. I know it might sound stupid, a
young woman heading out to camp alone in a state that's produced
30 confirmed serial killers, but I carry a gun, so there's that.
I know it's not complete protection, but it makes me feel
much safer knowing that I have that option for self-defense.
Last October I decided to head up to Snow Lake.
I wanted to destress and unwind with some peace, quiet, and nice
views, but I also didn't want the trails to be too tough, so
Snow Lake seemed perfect. It's one of the more popular
trails in the Snoqualmie Pass area, and to me it always seemed
like a good thing if there were other campers or hikers around.
You never know when you might need someone's help.
I'm so over that choose the bear nonsense.
Tell me you're not a hiker without telling me you're not a
hiker. 99% of people you meet on trails are awesome folks.
Even the mountain bikers you run into are way nicer than the
joggers and cyclists I've met in the city.
But I guess on this particular occasion I ran into the
exception that proves the rule, as they say.
I hiked about four or five miles down the trail before making my
camp, which I made sure to keep out of sight from the main trail
for privacy's sake. I was pretty worn out from the
hike, so after setting up my tent, unpacking the essentials,
making a campfire, and warming up some food, I decided to call
it a night around 9 PMI remember getting into my sleeping bag,
trying to make a pillow out of my pack and rolled up sweater,
and then nothing. I must have dozed off less than
a minute after putting my head down.
The next thing I remember is dreaming that my sister and I
were in the back of my dad's car.
I don't know where we were going but my sister kept teasing me
about a crush I had. I kept asking my dad to tell her
to stop but he wasn't saying anything.
Then I vividly remember hearing the sound of a zipper being
pulled in the car. It was super loud and I looked
around but couldn't see where it was coming from.
Suddenly I had a split second thought Oh my God I need to wake
up. I'm dreaming and that's the
zipper of my tent I'm hearing. The sudden transition from the
sunlit backseat of my dad's car to the darkness of my tent is
something I will never forget. I went from unconsciousness to
full awareness with one singular thought.
Get your gun and get it quick. I've spent hours on the range
with my gun. It's just a 9mm M&P Shield.
Small, easy to conceal, and very easy to use.
The only problem was that I had never been in a situation where
I thought I might need to use it.
My shooting instructor was right.
The adrenaline dump is so real. Even with all the hours I'd
spent practicing, it was a struggle to operate the gun and
bring it to bear. Meanwhile, the zipper of my tent
was slowly coming down. You could hear that zipping
sound almost drowning out the noise of me arming my M&P.
At least I assumed whoever it was didn't hear it because the
unzipping didn't stop until I spoke up.
I probably sounded scared out of my mind, but I tried to sound as
fierce as possible when I said get away from my tent if you
don't want to die right here. The zipping stopped, but the
silence that followed meant whoever was out there hadn't
moved. I told them I had a gun pointed
at the entrance and that if I didn't hear them getting up and
walking away in the next 5 seconds I was going to start
shooting. Then there was movement.
I heard someone stand, take a few steps back, and then their
pace picked up. I figured they had started
running. I mean, I would if someone in
the woods just threatened to shoot me.
But instead I heard them walking away, their footfalls getting
lighter and lighter as they got farther away.
And then silence. I couldn't tell if the silence
was because their footsteps faded out or because they had
stopped walking and we're now hanging back, waiting to see
what I would do next. The thought paralyzed me.
I lay there, gun pointed at the zipper, for what must have been
minutes before I finally found the will to move again.
Since I was only 5 miles into the trail, I still had some
spotty cell signal, presumably from a tower back near the
highway, so I was able to call 911 from my tent.
The dispatcher said he could notify the King County Sheriff's
Office but that he could get a couple of forest Rangers out to
me on ATVs within 20 minutes, Or so he thought.
He told me not to be alarmed if I heard their engines roaring in
the darkness, and to think of it more like cavalry coming to
help. And it really did sound like
that when the Rangers finally showed up.
But those were the longest 20 minutes of my life, waiting in
the dark, listening for any signs of footsteps coming closer
again. When the Rangers arrived, I told
them what had happened. They took a look around to make
sure no one was lurking nearby. They didn't see anyone, but they
found the person's trail leading off into the trees.
If they were hiding out and waiting for me to let my guard
down, they weren't doing it nearby.
But that didn't make me feel any better or safer.
So I took the Rangers up on their offer to give me a ride
back toward where my car was parked so I could drive home.
It was the first time anything like that had ever happened to
me, and for the record, nothing like that has happened since.
But I was still really shaken up at the time, and not for the
reasons you might expect. I don't know if you've ever been
close to shooting someone before, but it's not a pleasant
experience. I'd love to be that girl who can
sound all badass, telling everyone how cold I was, ready
to smoke some pervert trying to sneak into my tent at night.
But I wasn't ready. And for all the preparation I'd
done, I don't think I'd ever be ready to take someone's life, no
matter what they were doing. My instructor had mentioned that
too, how fear can lead to reasoning.
You think pulling out a gun will make someone stop and throw
their hands up like in the movies, but the real world isn't
like that at all. If you're going to pull your gun
on someone, he said, you better be prepared to use it.
If you're not, there's a chance they'll take it from you and use
it on you instead. I don't know how far I would
have let that guy go before pulling the trigger.
I really don't. I would definitely have shot him
if he tried to grab me or if I saw him holding a weapon of his
own, but I think I would have literally begged him to stop
before I finally put a bullet in him.
The whole thing shook me up, not just because it was scary and it
was very scary, but because it made me really think for the
first time about the possibility of taking someone's life.
In the self-defense classes I took.
The instructor was awesome, but looking back, he only ever said
things like neutralizing the target or ending the threat.
I know he was trying to shield me mentally from the reality of
what I was practicing to do. I was practicing to kill
someone, and let me tell you, that feels a whole lot different
when you're actually getting ready to go through with it.
My friend Mark and I always loved going on adventures.
We'd hiked and camped in all the popular places around our town,
but after a while it all started to feel the same.
We wanted something different. Something that would really give
us a thrill. That's how we ended up hearing
about this forest way out in the middle of nowhere.
Hardly anyone ever went there, and the few who did said it was
super creepy and weird. It sounded perfect to us.
We set out early one crisp autumn morning.
The sky was bright blue and the air was chilly enough to make a
shiver a little. We packed up all our camping
gear into Mark's car and hit the road, excited for the adventure
ahead. At first, the drive was pretty
normal. We passed by some farms, then a
couple of small towns. But eventually things started to
get a bit strange. As we got closer to the forest,
the trees got taller and thicker.
They seem to huddle together, blocking out the sunlight.
The road got narrower, twisting and turning through the dense
woods. It felt like we were driving
into another world, one where people didn't go very often.
I could tell Mark felt it too. He kept glancing around, like he
was trying to make sure we weren't being followed or
something. By the time we reached the
parking area, the sun was starting to dip in the sky,
casting long shadows across the ground.
The place was small and overgrown with weeds and vines,
almost hiding the trailhead. It was like the forest didn't
want us to find the way in. I had a weird feeling in my
stomach, like maybe this wasn't such a good idea, but I didn't
say anything. Mark and I had done this kind of
thing before, and we always came out just fine.
We grabbed our backpacks and started down the trail.
At first it wasn't so bad, the path was narrow and rough, but
we were used to that. But as we got deeper into the
forest, things started to change.
The trees were huge, their branches twisted into strange
shapes that seemed to reach out at us.
The forest floor was covered in thick leaves that made our
footsteps almost silent. And it was so quiet.
Like unnaturally quiet. No birds, no animals, not even
the wind in the trees. Just silence.
After what felt like hours of hiking, we stumbled into a small
clearing. It was almost a perfect circle
surrounded by those ancient gnarled trees.
The ground was covered in a thick carpet of leaves and the
air was so still it was almost like the forest was holding its
breath. It felt both peaceful and creepy
at the same time. Mark looked at me and I could
tell he was feeling the same thing.
But we were here now, and it was getting dark.
We didn't really have a choice. We set up our tent, quickly,
gathered some firewood, and got a small fire going.
The flickering flames made the shadows dance on the trees
around us. It should have been cozy, but
instead it just made the clearing feel even more eerie.
I tried to brush it off. We were just letting the stories
about this place get to us, right?
But then, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the
clearing got darker, a thick mist started to roll in from the
trees. It moved slowly, almost like it
was alive, creeping across the ground and wrapping around our
campsite. I shivered and pulled my jacket
tighter around me, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling
growing in my chest. We were here for an adventure,
and that's exactly what we were going to get.
As we sat by the fire, trying to shake off the weird feeling from
the mist, something moved in the corner of my eye.
I turned and there he was, a man, standing at the edge of our
clearing. He seemed to appear out of
nowhere. He was tall and rugged, with a
scruffy beard and intense eyes that made my skin crawl.
I nudged Mark, who jumped a little when he saw the man too.
Whoa, where did you come from? Mark asked, his voice shaky.
The man stepped closer and the fire light flickered on his
face. He introduced himself as Mr.
Harold, a park Ranger who watched over this part of the
forest. I thought it was strange we
didn't see his car or hear him coming, but I didn't say
anything. Something about him made me feel
uneasy. You 2 shouldn't be here.
Mr. Harold said in a serious tone.
This forest, it's not like the others.
Strange things happen here, especially at night.
Mark and I exchanged a look. We'd heard our share of spooky
stories before. Every place has its legends,
right? But there was something about
the way Mr. Harold spoke that made me feel like this was
different, Like he really believed what he was saying.
What kind of strange things? I asked, trying to sound casual
but not really pulling it off. Mr. Harold's eyes seemed to
Pierce right through me. Things you don't want to meet.
Shadows that move when they shouldn't.
Whispers that come from nowhere. If you're smart, you'll pack up
and leave now. He stood there waiting for us to
respond, but we didn't know what to say.
It was like he expected us to just get up and run to our car.
When we didn't move, he just shook his head and turned back
toward the trees. Just be careful.
He said over his shoulder before disappearing into the mist.
As quickly as he had come, I felt a chill run down my spine.
I wanted to laugh it off, but the way he said it, with that
serious look in his eyes, it made my stomach twist.
Mark tried to lighten the mood, making a joke about how every
creepy forest needed its own creepy Ranger, but his voice
sounded shaky too. We tried to go back to eating
our dinner and talking about our plans for the next day, but it
was hard to concentrate. The mist kept getting thicker,
wrapping around us like a cold, damp blanket.
Then, just when I thought it couldn't get any weirder, we
heard it. A low humming sound that seemed
to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
It started soft, almost like music, but then it got louder
and more unsettling. I looked at Mark and his eyes
were wide with fear. Do you hear that?
He whispered, even though I could tell he knew I did.
Before I could answer, the humming was joined by something
even creepier. Whispers, faint, but growing
louder, like a bunch of people muttering just out of sight.
The words were in some language I didn't understand, but they
sent shivers up my spine. It felt like the forest itself
was talking to us, and not in a friendly way.
Then, through the thick mist, shadowy figures started to form.
They were tall and thin, with glowing eyes that seemed to look
right at us. They moved slowly, gliding
closer and closer, and I felt like I was frozen in place.
I wanted to scream, to run, but my legs wouldn't move.
Just as I thought the shadows were going to reach us, I heard
a voice cut through the air. Get out of here now.
It was Mr. Harold, yelling from somewhere in the mist.
That was all it took to break the spell.
I grabbed Mark and we stumbled to our feet, grabbing our bags.
The shadows seemed to close in, but the mist parted just enough
to show us a way out. We ran like we'd never run
before, not looking back, the whispers and shadows chasing us
through the trees. All I knew was that we had to
get out of there before it was too late.
We didn't stop running until we burst out of the trees and into
the small clearing where we had parked the car.
My heart was pounding and I was gasping for air.
Mark looked just as freaked out as I felt.
We jumped into the car, slammed the doors and Mark fumble with
the keys. Finally he got the engine
started and we speed off down the dirt Rd. away from the
forest. Neither of us said a word.
For the longest time I kept glancing in the rearview mirror,
half expecting to see those shadowy figures chasing us down
the road, but all I saw was the thick mist hanging between the
trees. The further we drove, the more
the mist seemed to lift, but that uneasy feeling stuck with
me. It felt like the forest was
watching us even as we got farther away.
Hours later, we stopped at a small diner on the side of the
highway. We needed to take a breath to
make sense of what had just happened.
We sat at a booth, staring at our menus without really seeing
them. My mind was racing with a
million thoughts. What were those things?
And who was Mr. Harold, really? I think we should call the
Ranger station, Mark said, finally, breaking the silence.
Maybe they can tell us more about what's going on out there.
It seemed like a good idea, so we found the number for the
local Ranger station and called them from a pay phone outside.
When a woman answered, I explained what happened and
described Mr. Harold, how he had shown up out of nowhere and
warned us about the forest. There was a long pause on the
other end of the line. My stomach started to churn.
Finally, the woman spoke, but her voice was low and shaky.
There hasn't been a Ranger named Harold here for over 20 years,
she said. He went missing in those woods a
long time ago, and he was never found.
I felt the ground drop out from under me.
I looked at Mark and his face had gone pale.
My mind raced. If Mr. Harold had disappeared 20
years ago, who or what had we seen in the forest?
And how had he known to save us? We got back in the car and Mark
drove in silence. I kept turning the whole thing
over in my mind, but it just didn't make any sense.
It was like we had stepped into a nightmare that didn't want to
let us go. After a while, Mark pulled over
to the side of the road. I found something in my pocket.
He said, his voice shaking. I think you should see it.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small old looking
compass. It was scratched and dirty and
on the back was engraved H Harold.
My heart skipped a beat. I felt like I was going to be
sick. How had it gotten there?
We hadn't seen it before and Mark swore he hadn't picked it
up on purpose. The needle on the compass wasn't
pointing N instead it spun slowly, pointing back toward the
forest like it was trying to lead us back there.
I shivered and shoved it into the glove box, not wanting to
look at it anymore. We sat there for a while, trying
to make sense of everything, but the more we thought about it,
the less sense it made. It was like the forest had
reached out to us, showing us something we were never meant to
see, and now it didn't want to let us go.
Just when I thought things couldn't get any creepier, the
car radio crackled to life. At first it was just static, but
then that same humming started to play the same eerie melody
we'd heard in the forest. My blood turned to ice.
I looked at Mark, and he was staring at the radio, his face
white as a sheet. Then the whispers started again,
faint but unmistakable. They filled the car, making it
feel like the shadows were closing in on us all over again.
I wanted to scream, to throw open the door and run, but I
couldn't move. We just sat there, frozen as the
forest voice echoed around us, reminding us that we'd seen
something we shouldn't have. And I knew deep down that this
wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
My dad was never an outdoorsy guy.
In fact, he hated anything to do with nature.
He liked his TV, his gadgets, and sitting in his favorite
chair more than anything. He didn't even like taking our
dogs, Ren and Duke, for walks. If you asked him, he'd tell you
he was a house cat and proud of it.
So when he suddenly announced he was going camping in the middle
of nowhere, everyone was shocked.
It was late September when he told us we were sitting at the
dinner table and he just blurted it out like it was no big deal.
I'm going up to Roof Lake in the Northwest Territories, he said
between bites of spaghetti. I need a change of pace.
My mom's fork clattered to her plate and my sister's eyes went
wide. You're doing what?
My mom asked, her voice full of disbelief.
I'm going camping, Dad repeated calmly, like this was the most
normal thing in the world. I'll only be gone for a few
weeks. I couldn't believe what I was
hearing. This was the same man who once
called a three hour road trip an ordeal.
Now he was talking about camping in a place so remote I had to
look it up on a map. Roof Lake wasn't even near any
towns or cities, just forests and mountains.
I didn't get it. This wasn't him at all.
Things got even weirder when he said he was taking our dogs with
him. My dad never liked Ren and Duke.
They were my mom's idea. He'd always complain about their
smell and how they were too noisy, but now he was suddenly
all about giving them an adventure, saying they deserve
to run free in the wild. It felt like a joke, like
someone had swapped my dad for a totally different person.
At first we thought he was going through some kind of midlife
crisis. You know, one of those moments
when people do something crazy to feel young again.
But as the days went by and he kept packing his camping gear, I
started to worry. I mean, he had never been into
camping before. Why now?
When the day came for him to leave, I stood by the door,
watching him load up the car with his new tent, camping
stove, and all the gear he'd bought.
Wren and Duke were already inside the car, barking
excitedly. Dad turned to me, smiling in a
way that was both cheerful and a little strange.
Don't worry, he said. I'll be back before you know it.
But something about the whole situation felt off.
His smile didn't seem real. It was like he was pretending
everything was fine, but deep down I could tell something was
bothering him. My mom stood there too, her arms
crossed, worry etched all over her face.
She didn't say anything, just gave him a long, tight hug
before he got in the car. As I watched him drive away, a
sinking feeling settled in my stomach.
I didn't understand why he was doing this, and neither did
anyone else. Something wasn't right, but I
didn't know what. That was the last time any of us
saw him. A few weeks after Dad left, we
started to worry. At first, we didn't think much
of it. He said he'd be back in a few
weeks, so we just waited. But as the days went by and we
didn't hear from him, things started to feel strange.
Mom would check her phone constantly, waiting for a text
or a call that never came. My sister tried to pretend
everything was fine, but I could tell she was anxious.
I didn't know what to think. By the time 3 weeks passed, mom
finally decided to call the police.
She reported him missing and soon after the authority sent a
search team up to Roof Lake to look for him.
I remember sitting in the living room with my mom and sister when
we got the first call from the RCMP.
They said they'd be searching the area where Dad said he was
going to camp. It was a huge wilderness, dense
forests, icy lakes and mountains everywhere.
Roof Lake wasn't the kind of place you could just wander
around without a plan. The days felt longer and quieter
after that. Every morning I would wake up
hoping for some good news, but it never came.
The police searched for weeks. They used helicopters, dogs and
even boats to try to find him, but they found nothing.
No sign of Dad, no trace of our dogs and no clue about where he
could have gone. Then one day in April, about 5
months after Dad had disappeared, we got a call that
gave us a little bit of hope. A pilot flying over Roof Lake
said he saw someone walking along the shore with two dogs.
He wasn't part of the search team, but he knew about Dad's
disappearance and reported it right away.
The RCMP and a rescue team rushed back to the area to check
it out. I remember sitting by the phone,
my heart pounding, waiting for any news.
It felt like forever before we finally got a call from the
police. When my mom answered, I watched
her face change, at first hopeful, then confused.
She hung up and told us what they found.
Dad's campsite. The search team had found his
tent collapsed on the ground. There were supplies scattered
around his sleeping bag, cooking gear, and even some dog food,
but there was no sign of Dad or the dogs.
One weird thing they found was some boating wax, like the kind
you'd use on a canoe. But Dad had never mentioned a
canoe, and as far as we knew, he didn't even know how to use one.
The police told us they thought Dad might have gotten lost or
hurt and tried to find his way to a nearby town like
Yellowknife. But weeks passed and they
searched everywhere. Yellowknife, Prince George, even
the surrounding lakes and still nothing.
As the months dragged on, the hope we had started to fade.
The police said he might have fallen into one of the freezing
cold lakes or been attacked by animals, but I couldn't shake
the feeling that something else had happened, something worse.
How could someone just disappear like that?
It had been almost five years since Dad disappeared, and by
now most people thought he was gone for good.
But my family couldn't let go. We needed answers, so one last
time we decided to go back to Roof Lake with a private
investigator. Maybe it was pointless, but we
had to try. When we got there, the place
felt colder than I remembered. The wind was sharp and the trees
seemed to close in around us. The lake, dark and still,
stretched out like an empty void.
It was as if the land itself didn't want us there.
Even though it was spring, everything felt frozen in time,
like the world had stopped the moment Dad disappeared.
We set up camp near where the search team had found Dad's
things all those years ago. The private investigator, Mr.
Harris, started looking through the area, checking for anything
the police might have missed. My mom, sister, and I stayed
close to the campsite, keeping an eye on the surroundings.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us
from the trees. I know it sounds crazy, but
every time I looked over my shoulder I thought I saw
movement, like a shadow slipping between the trees.
But every time I looked again, there was nothing.
That night, my sister and I sat by the fire while Mr. Harris and
my mom talked quietly. My sister leaned in close and
said something that made my skin crawl.
Do you remember what Dad said before he left?
She asked. I nodded, thinking about how
strange his behavior had been. Well, he told me something.
He didn't tell anyone else. I stared at her, waiting for her
to continue. She hesitated, then whispered.
He said he'd been hearing voices, like whispers at night.
He told me they were calling him, like they wanted him to go
to the lake. My stomach twisted into a knot.
Whispers. Why hadn't he told us?
Why hadn't he said anything? Before I could ask more, we
heard a noise. It was faint at first, like
distant barking. Ren and Duke, we hadn't seen the
dogs in years, but the barking sounded just like them.
My sister and I stood up, our hearts racing.
Then, out of the darkness, we saw a figure at the edge of the
fire light. Dad, my sister whispered, her
voice trembling. The figure moved closer, Slowly,
almost too slowly, the fire light flickered, and I could
finally see him. It looked like Dad, his face,
his clothes. But something was horribly
wrong. His eyes were hollow, empty.
His skin was pale, and he moved in a way that didn't seem human,
like he was being pulled by invisible strings.
I froze in fear. It couldn't be him, not like
this. Dad.
I whispered, but he didn't answer.
He just stood there, staring at us with that empty look.
And then, slowly, a twisted grin spread across his face, like he
knew something we didn't. My sister grabbed my arm and we
both backed away, terrified. Suddenly, the barking stopped
and the figure melted back into the darkness, leaving us
standing there, shaking, our hearts pounding.
I didn't know what we had just seen, but one thing was clear.
That wasn't my dad anymore. We packed up and left the next
morning, but I'll never forget that night.
I still hear the whispers sometimes, and I wonder if
they're calling for me now too. I'll never forget that last
night at Camp Breakpoint. Everything seemed so perfect at
first. The cabins had just been fixed
up and we were sitting around a cozy campfire.
The sky was pitch black with only a few stars twinkling
overhead, and the fire was the only real light around us.
It was just Lila, our camp administrator and me left.
Everyone else had already gone to bed.
The night was quiet with only the sound of crickets chirping.
The fire crackled and popped as we stared into the flames, not
saying much. I felt a bit nervous, but I knew
I had to ask Lila about something that had been bugging
me all summer. I turned to her and the question
just slipped out. Lila, why don't we ever go
across the lake to the land on the other side?
She turned to look at me, her face serious.
We're not the only ones who like to gather around the fire in the
woods at night. She said quietly.
I was confused. What do you mean?
I asked, trying to understand what she was saying.
Lila sighed and glanced around like she was making sure no one
else was listening. It depends on who you ask.
She started. I've seen some strange things
over there. Sometimes there are huge
bonfires with people dancing around them and making weird
noises. Other times people have found
things left behind bones and they couldn't tell if they were
animal or human. But what's even scarier is the
feeling you get, like someone is watching you from the shadows.
I shivered a little, even though the fire was warm.
Has anyone ever come over here from there?
I asked, my voice shaky. No.
Lila said, her eyes fixed on the flames.
But that doesn't mean they won't.
You have to be careful around here sometimes.
It's not what you see or hear that's the scariest, it's what
you feel. A chill ran down my spine, but I
couldn't help asking. What do you mean by that?
She paused for a moment before answering.
There have been times when I felt this fear.
It's like this raw, animalistic terror that just grips you.
It's like every cell in your body is telling you to run.
It's not like normal fear, it's deeper, like it's in your DNA or
something. The feeling usually passes
quickly, but it leaves a mark. You don't forget it.
I nodded slowly, trying to understand what she was saying.
We sat there in silence for a while longer.
The fire was burning down and the night felt darker and more
intense. I couldn't shake the uneasy
feeling Lila's story had given me.
After a bit, I decided to go back to my cabin.
I said good night to Lila and started walking away.
As I walked, I noticed that everything was way too quiet.
The crickets had stopped chirping, and there were no
other noises at all. It was like the whole forest was
holding its breath. A wave of fear washed over me.
I quickened my pace, my heart pounding in my chest.
I felt like something was watching me, hiding in the
darkness. I broke into a Sprint, my cabin
finally coming into view. I fumble with the key, managed
to unlock the door, and slammed it shut behind me, locking it
tight. I took a few deep breaths,
trying to calm down. It was probably nothing, I told
myself. But as I glanced out the window
at the lake, I saw a flicker of light on the other side.
A tiny flame had just started, and shadows moved around it.
My breath caught in my throat. What if Lila was right?
What if we weren't alone out here?
The next morning I tried to forget about everything that
happened last night. Maybe I was just tired and my
mind was playing tricks on me. Yeah, that had to be it.
I grabbed some cereal and went outside, hoping some fresh air
and sunshine would help me feel normal again.
Lila and Tom were already at the picnic table eating their
breakfast. Morning, I said, trying to sound
casual as I sat down. Morning.
Tom replied, but he looked pale, like he hadn't slept at all.
Lila didn't look much better. I had to know if they'd
experienced anything weird too. So, did you guys sleep OK?
I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Tom glanced at Lila, then back at me.
Not really. He said quietly.
I had this really weird dream. It felt like someone was
watching me while they hid in my closet.
I couldn't see their face, but they were wearing this creepy
mask. Lila put her spoon down, her
face turning serious. I had a bad dream too.
She said slowly. I dreamt there were two people
standing outside my window, just staring in.
They were both wearing robes and masks.
My heart skipped a beat. I had a dream like that too.
I admitted. And last night when I was
heading back to my cabin, everything went completely
silent. It was like the whole forest
just stopped making noise. Tom nodded.
Yeah, I noticed that too. It was so eerie.
I thought I saw people with torches near the edge of the
camp, but when I looked again, they were gone.
We all sat there in stunned silence, trying to make sense of
what was going on. It was like something out of a
scary movie, but this was real, and we were living it.
My stomach twisted into knots. Maybe we're just all imagining
things? I suggested, even though I
didn't believe it myself. It's probably just the stress of
the end of camp and everything. Maybe.
Lila said, but she didn't sound convinced.
We finished our breakfast in uneasy silence, trying to act
like everything was normal, but then things got even stranger.
When we went back to the cabins to start packing up, we found
all our stuff already moved outside.
It was neatly arranged in front of the main lodge, like someone
had taken the time to sort through it all and place it
there. And on the lodge, in big red
letters were the words get out and don't come back.
A chill ran down my spine. Who could have done this?
Why would they do it? Lila's face went pale as she
read the words. We need to leave.
She said, her voice shaky. We need to leave now.
None of us argued with her. We rushed to gather our things,
all too aware of how quiet and still the camp had become.
It felt like we were being watched, and I couldn't shake
the feeling that we weren't alone.
As we loaded our bags into the cars, I glanced back at the edge
of the woods. My breath caught in my throat.
There, among the trees, I saw them, shadowy figures wearing
those same masks. They were just standing there,
watching us, their eyes hidden behind those blank, empty faces.
Let's go. Lila shouted, snapping me out of
my days. We jumped into the cars and
speed away from the camp as fast as we could.
My heart was pounding so hard it hurt, but I couldn't help but
look back one last time. That's when I saw them again.
Cloaked figures stepping out from the forest, moving slowly
toward where we had been. It was the most terrifying thing
I had ever seen, and I knew in that moment that whatever was
out there wasn't going to just let us go.
A whole year had passed since that night at Camp Break Point,
but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still lurking
in those woods. I tried to put it out of my mind
and focus on school and friends, but every now and then I'd have
a nightmare about the camp. In those dreams, I'd see the
masked figure standing silently in the trees, just watching.
One day, out of nowhere, I got a call from Lila.
She sounded tense, like she was trying to keep it together.
Jack, I've been having these dreams.
I think we need to go back to the camp.
I know it sounds crazy, but I need to see it one last time to
make sure it's really over. My stomach twisted into knots
just thinking about going back, but I understood I'd had those
dreams too. We decided to ask Tom if he
wanted to come, and surprisingly, he agreed.
Maybe he was feeling the same way we were.
We drove back to Camp Break Point on a cloudy, overcast day.
The sky was dark and heavy, like it knew we were doing something
we shouldn't be. The camp looked completely
different from how I remembered it.
The cabins were run down and the grass was tall and wild.
It was like the place had been abandoned for 100 years, not
just one. As we got out of the car, a
weird feeling settled over me. The air was thick and heavy, and
it was so quiet not even a bird chirped.
We headed toward the lake where we had seen the fire last year.
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as we got closer.
Suddenly, Lila stopped and pointed across the water.
My blood ran cold. There, on the opposite shore was
a massive bonfire, just like the one we had seen before.
Shadows moved around it, their movements jerky and unnatural.
Then I saw it. The boat.
It glided across the lake just like last time, but now there
were more figures on board. They were all wearing those
creepy masks. We need to go.
Tom whispered, but it was too late.
The figures in the boat had seen us.
They were staring straight at us, even from so far away, and I
felt like their eyes were burning into my soul.
We turned to run, but before we could even take a step, we
realized we were surrounded. Dozens of masked figures were
emerging from the woods around us.
They formed a tight circle, closing in on us slowly.
My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might burst.
The figures raised their hands, each holding a torch that burst
into a strange greenish flame. I could hear a low, deep
chanting coming from them, like they were speaking in a language
I didn't understand. The ground beneath me seemed to
vibrate with their voices. I tried to scream, but no sound
came out. I was frozen in place, staring
at those terrible masks. They were so close now that I
could see every detail. They weren't just masks, they
were faces twisted and distorted into horrifying shapes.
Lila grabbed my arm, pulling me out of my shock run.
She screamed, but there was nowhere to go.
The circle tightened, and I felt an icy fear like I'd never felt
before. It was like the air itself was
trying to crush me. Then everything went black.
The chanting grew louder, filling my ears until I thought
my head would explode. The last thing I heard was my
own scream echoing in the darkness.
When I came to, we were back in the car, speeding away from the
camp. Tom was driving, his face pale
and sweaty. Lila was beside me, shaking like
a leaf. I didn't know how we had gotten
away, or if we really had. All I knew was that we had to
get as far away as possible. I glanced back one last time and
saw them, the figures standing at the edge of the camp,
watching us go. And even though we were leaving,
I knew deep down that it wasn't over, not by a long shot.
They'd let us go this time, but they wouldn't let us forget.
I've always been fascinated by urban legends, those creepy
stories everyone tells around campfires or at sleepovers.
They're supposed to scare you or teach you a lesson.
My favorite was one my grandma used to tell me and my cousin
Alex. It was about this car called the
Black Volga. She said it would kidnap kids
who talk to strangers. Even though it was just a story,
it scared us enough to make sure we never went near weird cars.
But the scariest story I ever heard was from my uncle Nikolai.
He told it to us one summer when I was maybe 5 or 6 years old.
It was during a camping trip in the middle of the woods.
My mom, Uncle Nikolai, Alex, and I went to this campsite near a
lake. I remember it was Labor Day
weekend, the end of summer, and the grown-ups were trying to
give us one last adventure before school started.
Alex and I spent the day running around gathering firewood and
pretending sticks were lightsabers.
We were so caught up in our game that we didn't notice how dark
the forest was getting. The trees were so tall and thick
that they blocked out the sun, making it feel like we were in a
different world. By the time we got back to the
campsite, the grown-ups had built a big fire.
It was warm and bright, pushing back the darkness of the woods
around us. That night, after we roasted
marshmallows and stuffed ourselves with S'mores, Uncle
Nikolai started telling us this story.
He had this way of speaking that made every word sound like it
was the most important thing you'd ever hear.
We all sat close to the fire, the only light around for miles,
and listened. He told us about the whispering
man. He said that when he and my mom
were kids, they had a friend named Travis.
The three of them used to play in the woods near their
neighborhood, building forts out of sticks and pretending they
were adventurers. One night they stayed out too
late. The cricket stopped chirping and
everything got really quiet. That's when they heard a voice,
a kids voice, calling to them. Come play with me, Uncle Nikolai
said. He and my mom were so scared
they ran out of the woods as fast as they could, but when
they finally looked back, Travis was gone.
They never saw him again. The only thing left was the
missing posters that went up around town.
Uncle Nikolai said that the voice they heard was the
Whispering Man, a shadowy figure that wandered the woods at
night, looking for children to trick and take away.
I shivered as I listened, feeling like the darkness of the
woods was closing in on us. I kept looking over my shoulder,
half expecting to see a shadowy figure just beyond the fire's
light. My uncle warned us.
If you ever hear a voice like that, you don't follow it, You
run. That night, I lay in the tent
with my eyes wide open. Every rustle of leaves, every
whisper of wind sounded like the whispering man coming to get me.
I was too scared to sleep. And just when I thought I
couldn't be any more terrified, something scratched at the tent.
I froze, holding my breath, convinced that the whispering
man was right outside. Then the zipper slowly started
to open. My heart was pounding so hard I
thought it would burst. Suddenly, Alex's face popped
into the tent, grinning from ear to ear.
Got you. He whispered, laughing so hard
he could barely stand. I wanted to punch him for
scaring me like that, but I was just relieved it wasn't the real
whispering man. Still, even after Alex went back
to his tent, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone or
something was out there watching us.
A few years after that camping trip, everything changed for my
family. We had to move because my mom
lost her job and we couldn't keep our house anymore.
It was tough, but we ended up in a new neighborhood that wasn't
so bad. My little brother Jacob and I
made some new friends pretty quickly.
There was Mark, who was a year older than Jacob, and Tyler, who
was my age. They had lived in this
neighborhood forever, so they knew all the best spots to hang
out. Pretty soon, the four of us were
doing everything together. People started calling us the
Four Stooges because we were always running around as a
group. We spent that summer having as
much fun as we could. We played Airsoft Wars, climbed
onto the roofs of buildings we probably shouldn't have been on,
and swam in the pool in Tyler's backyard.
We also loved sitting around the fire pit in Mark's backyard at
night telling scary stories. I was the one who usually told
the stories because, well, I knew a lot of them.
The others thought it was cool that I could remember so many,
even if they sometimes rolled their eyes at how scary they
really were. One night, as we were sitting
around the fire roasting marshmallows, Jacob asked.
OK, Ethan, what story do you have for us?
This time I thought about all the stories I knew.
Then I remembered one I hadn't told them yet, The Whispering
Man. It had been years since I heard
that story, but the way Uncle Nikolai had told it made it
stick in my head, so I decided to share it with them.
I leaned in closer to the fire and started.
Have you guys ever heard of the Whispering Man?
They all looked at me with curious faces, shaking their
heads. It's this legend my uncle told
me. He said it happened to him and
my mom when they were kids. I went on to tell them about how
Uncle Nikolai, my mom, and their friend Travis used to play in
the woods. I described how they stayed out
too late one night and heard a voice calling to them asking
them to come play. I could see the way their faces
changed as I talked. They went from thinking it was
just a joke to looking a little uneasy.
When I finished, Tyler scoffed. Your uncle just made that up to
scare you, right? I shrugged.
I don't know, I said. I looked it up once and there
really was a kid named Travis who went missing around that
time, so maybe it's true, maybe it's not.
After a while, we moved on from the Scary Stories and started
talking about something else. But then Mark's dad brought out
a new pack of glow in the dark airsoft pellets he got for his
birthday. We were all super excited to try
them out. Tyler suggested we have an
airsoft war in the woods nearby since it was so dark and the
glowing pellets would look really cool.
So we split into Teams. Mark and I would go against
Jacob and Tyler. We all grabbed our airsoft guns
and headed toward the old cemetery down the street where
we often played. It wasn't a huge cemetery, just
a small patch of land with a dirt path running through it.
The gravestones were old and covered in Moss.
Some cracked and leaning over trees surrounded the whole
place, making it feel even creepier at night.
We set some ground rules, no aiming for the head, and each
team would take one side of the cemetery.
Mark and I ran to the left hill while Jacob and Tyler took the
right. We crouched down behind some
tall grass and waited, guns at the ready.
Everything got quiet as we waited for Jacob and Tyler to
make their move. The usual nighttime sounds
seemed to fade away. My heart was beating so loud I
was sure Mark could hear it. Then, through the leaves, I saw
something that made my blood run cold.
A man was standing just outside the cemetery gate.
His movements were strange, like he was limping or didn't know
how to walk right. He stepped into the cemetery and
everything went dead silent. I watched him carefully, trying
not to make a sound. Suddenly he opened his mouth and
I heard Tyler's voice calling out.
Hey, come over here. I found them.
It didn't make sense. How could Tyler's voice come
from this guy? I turned to look at Mark, but he
hadn't noticed yet. My mind was racing.
Was this some kind of trick? Then the man turned his head
toward me, and his eyes, those dark, empty eyes, locked onto
mine. Without thinking, I lifted my
airsoft gun and fired. The glowing pellet shot straight
toward him, hitting him right in the face.
The man jerked his head back, then turned and disappeared into
the woods. Got you?
Jacob yelled from behind me, snapping me back to reality.
I looked up to see him standing over me, grinning.
I couldn't believe he had snuck up on me like that.
When I glanced back toward the gate, the man was gone.
It was like he had never been there at all.
I didn't say anything to the others, I just wanted to get out
of there as fast as possible, so I lied and said my mom was
coming home early. They bought it and we headed
back to our houses. But as I lay in bed that night,
I couldn't stop thinking about that man in the cemetery and the
way he mimicked Tyler's voice. It was just like Uncle Nikolai's
story and it scared me more than I wanted to admit.
That night, I couldn't sleep at all.
I kept seeing the man from the cemetery in my mind.
The way he walked, the way he turned his head so suddenly.
And those eyes, they were like 2 black holes.
I told myself it was just my imagination, that I was probably
just seeing things because of Uncle Nikolai's story.
But it felt so real, like he was actually there, trying to lure
us into the woods. I must have dozed off at some
point because the next thing I knew, I was jolted awake by a
soft tapping sound. At first I thought it was just
part of a dream, but then I heard it again.
Tap tap, tap. It was coming from my window.
My heart started racing as I slowly sat up in bed.
I glanced over at Jacob's bunk, but he was fast asleep, snoring
softly. I tiptoed to the window and
peeked out from the side, not wanting to be seen.
My stomach dropped when I saw him, the man from the cemetery.
He was standing on the sidewalk, looking right up at my window.
My blood turned to ice. He bent down, picked up
something from the ground, and threw it at the window again.
Tap, tap, tap. A small glow in the dark airsoft
pellet bounced off the glass and fell back down to the ground.
My mind was screaming at me to run and wake up my mom, but I
was frozen in place. The man tilted his head slightly
and opened his mouth. This time the voice that came
out was Jacob's. Ethan, come outside, let's play.
He whispered. My breath caught in my throat.
I wanted to yell at him to go away, to leave us alone, but I
couldn't make a sound. The man smiled, a slow, creepy
smile that didn't reach his eyes.
He picked up another pellet and threw it at the window.
The glass cracked a little this time, a tiny chip right at the
center. It looked like a small spider
web. I stumbled back from the window,
nearly tripping over my own feet.
I crawled into my bed and pulled the covers over my head, trying
to block out everything. I squeezed my eyes shut, my
heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
The tapping stopped and everything went silent.
Minutes felt like hours as I waited for something to happen,
but then I heard the sound of car tires on the gravel outside.
The headlights from my mom's car filled the room, and I finally
felt like I could breathe again. I waited until I heard the front
door open and close before peeking out from under the
covers. The man was gone.
I don't know how long I sat there staring out the window,
waiting for him to come back. Eventually I heard my mom moving
around downstairs and I let out a shaky breath.
He was gone for now. The next morning I woke up
feeling completely drained. My whole body was heavy, like I
hadn't slept at all. I rolled over to look at Jacob's
bunk, but it was empty. His bed was unmade and his phone
was sitting on the pillow. I thought maybe he was
downstairs already, but something didn't feel right.
My chest tightened as I hurried downstairs.
Mom, have you seen Jacob? I called out, trying to keep the
panic out of my voice. She looked up from her cup of
coffee, frowning. I thought he was still asleep.
She said, getting up to check the house.
We searched everywhere, his room, the bathroom, the
backyard, but he was nowhere to be found.
Panic set in as we went outside, calling his name.
I ran over to Mark's house, hoping maybe Jacob had gone
there early in the morning. Mark's mom opened the door,
looking confused. No, I haven't seen him.
She said, her eyes widening as she realized something was
wrong. I felt like I was going to throw
up. I ran back to the house, hoping
to see Jacob walking up the driveway, but it was empty.
My mom was already on the phone with the police, her face pale
and scared. Everything became a blur after
that. Cops showed up asking 1,000,000
questions. I told them about the man I saw
outside, about the tapping on the window, but they just looked
at me like I was making it up. They said he probably just ran
off somewhere, that they would find him soon, but I knew
better. Days passed then weeks and there
was still no sign of Jacob. The search party stopped coming
and the police said they had no leads.
My mom was a wreck, barely able to get out of bed most days.
I felt like it was my fault. I should have done something, I
should have protected him, but I didn't.
One night, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I heard
it again. The tapping, tap, tap, tap.
My whole body went cold. I turned my head slowly toward
the window. There in the dark, I saw a
shadow. The whispering man.
He was back, just like he promised, and this time he
whispered in a voice that sent chills down my spine.
It was Jacob's voice saying Ethan, come play with me.
I pulled the covers over my head and squeezed my eyes shut, too
scared to move. I knew he was out there waiting
and I knew deep down that he would always be there, just
outside my window, whispering for me to come play.