The drive up to the mountains was supposed to be exciting I
guess, but honestly I was just trying not to look out the
window too much. My sister Addie, on the other
hand, couldn't stop talking about how amazing it was going
to be to camp in the middle of nowhere.
I wish I felt the same way, but all I could think about were
those deer from the movie at Tristan's house.
They seem to be everywhere, hiding behind trees, lurking in
the dark, just waiting. I didn't tell anyone though,
it's not like they'd understand. How much longer?
Addie asked from the back seat, practically bouncing.
She was so excited and I didn't want to ruin it for her.
Almost there. Dad said, smiling at her in the
rear view mirror. You're going to love it, Addie.
This is the real wilderness. No phones, no distractions, just
us and nature. Great, just us and all the deer
out there, I thought, but I didn't say anything.
I just forced a smile and nodded.
Addie grinned at me, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
She could tell I was nervous, but she was always the type to
look for the bright side of everything.
When we finally pulled up to the campsite, it felt almost too
quiet. The forest was dense, the trees
so tall they blocked out a lot of the sunlight.
The air smelled fresh and earthy, and I could hear birds
somewhere in the distance, but it still felt off.
Maybe it was just me. We started setting up our tents,
Mom and Dad's big one in the middle, and then Addie's and
mine a little ways away, each on opposite sides of the clearing.
It was supposed to give us a sense of independence.
Oregon, so Dad said. But it mostly just made me feel
more alone. I looked at my tent, a small,
flimsy thing that didn't feel like much of A shield against
anything, especially not a killer deer.
Hey Marlon, help me with this. Addie called out, struggling
with one of her tent poles. I walked over, trying to shake
off the creepy feeling. Sure.
I said, grabbing the pole and pushing it into place.
You know, I think you're supposed to read the
instructions first. Addie rolled her eyes.
Instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing.
We got this. Once we finished setting up, Dad
gathered us around. He had the bear Mace out and the
rifle next to him, looking serious.
All right, everyone, listen up. We're deep in the forest here,
so we've got to be careful. Stay together, don't wander too
far, and always be aware of what's around you got it?
Addie and I nodded. I knew he meant well, but the
sight of the rifle just made me more nervous.
What if there was something out there that even a rifle couldn't
stop? The next morning, Addie wanted
to explore, so we went down to the lake nearby.
It was pretty, I had to admit, Shimmering water surrounded by
thick woods. Addie was fascinated by
everything, the birds, the wildflowers, even the bugs.
I was just trying to keep my eyes peeled for any sign of
movement. Look at these tracks.
Addie called out, kneeling by the edge of the water.
I walked over and my stomach did a little flip.
They were deer tracks, but something was off.
The Prince looked almost like the deer had been walking on its
hind legs. I tried to brush it off, but a
chill ran down my spine. Cool, right?
Addie said, not noticing my reaction.
It's probably just weird terrain or something.
Yeah, probably, I said, But I couldn't shake the feeling that
something was wrong. I glanced across the lake and
froze. There, just beyond the trees, I
saw it, a deer watching us. Its eyes were wide, too wide,
and they looked almost human. I blinked, and it moved,
slipping behind a tree. Addie, we should go.
I said, my voice a little shaky. She looked up at me, confused.
What? Why we just got here.
Please? I insisted.
I I don't feel good about this place.
She frowned, but shrugged. OK, fine, let's head back.
We made our way back to camp, and I kept glancing over my
shoulder, half expecting to see those eyes again.
When we got back, I told Mom and Dad what I saw.
They just exchanged a look, then smiled.
It's probably just a dear Marlin.
Mom said they're more scared of you than you are of them.
Yeah. I wished that were true, but I
couldn't help feeling that whatever was out there wasn't
scared at all. It was watching, waiting, just
like in the movie. That night, I was exhausted, but
sleep wouldn't come easy. I kept replaying what I saw at
the lake, those weird tracks, the deer's creepy eyes.
Addie was snoring softly in her tent just a few feet away, and I
wished I could sleep as peacefully as she could.
But no matter how much I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling
that something was out there, watching us.
My tent felt so small, like it wouldn't be able to protect me
from anything. I turned on my electric lamp to
make the shadows go away, but after a few minutes the light
flickered and died. Just my luck, right now I was
stuck in the dark and every little sound seemed to get
louder. The rustling leaves, the snap of
a twig. My imagination was working
overtime, making me think of that awful movie of deer with
human like eyes creeping up to the tent.
I don't even remember when I fell asleep, but I must have
eventually, because the next thing I knew I was having this
horrible, vivid dream. I was back at the lake, only it
was dead silent and the sky looked darker, almost like a
storm was coming. I turned around and there it
was, The deer. Except it wasn't just any deer.
It looked wrong. Its face was all twisted, the
snout crooked, and the jaw looked like it was barely
hanging on. I wanted to run, but my feet
wouldn't move. The deer stepped closer, its
legs bending in a weird, jerky way.
It raised one of its front legs, and that's when I saw its
fingers, long and human like, with these sharp claws at the
tips. It started tapping them against
a tree, slowly, like it was counting down.
Tap, tap, tap. I could hear my heartbeat
pounding in my ears, and then it looked right at me with those
empty, lifeless eyes. I will get you, it said in this
deep, gravelly voice that made my skin crawl.
It didn't sound like any animal I'd ever heard.
It sounded human. I tried to scream, but no sound
came out. The deer moved closer and closer
until I could feel its breath on my face.
I woke up with a start, my heart racing.
For a second I didn't know where I was, but then I realized I was
in my tent. It was dark, pitch black, and I
was drenched in sweat. I took a deep breath, trying to
calm down, but then I heard it. Footsteps.
Slow, deliberate footsteps, right outside my tent.
I froze, every muscle in my body tensing up.
Maybe it was Dad, I thought, or Addy, but something about the
way the footsteps sounded, it wasn't right.
They were too heavy, too slow. I reached for my lamp but
remembered it was dead. I had nothing but the thin tent
fabric between me and whatever was out there.
I peeked through a small gap in the tent flap, and what I saw
made my blood run cold. There by the campfire was the
deer, or whatever it was. It wasn't just a deer, I knew
that now. Its limbs were bent at weird
angles, its eyes were glowing in the firelight, and it was
staring right at my tent. I could see its jaw still
crooked and saliva dripping from its mouth.
I wanted to scream but I couldn't move.
My chest felt heavy, like something was pressing down on
me. Then I heard another sound, a
grunt, like a real deer. It was coming from the other
side of the tent. It felt like there were two
things out there, 1 reel and one not.
The deer by the fire opened its mouth and I heard that awful
voice again. I will get you.
I felt my whole body go numb. This couldn't be real.
It had to be another nightmare. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping
that if I just wished hard enough it would all go away.
But then there was a loud rustling and the tent shook.
The next thing I knew I was being dragged out, my fingers
clawing at the dirt as I tried to hold on.
The creature's grip was strong, and I could feel its claws
digging into my skin. I finally found my voice and
screamed loud enough that I hoped someone, anyone, would
hear me. Suddenly I heard Addie's voice
calling my name, and then the creature let go.
I scrambled backward, my heart pounding so hard I thought it
might burst. The thing by the fire.
It was gone. The forest was silent again, but
I knew it was still out there, somewhere in the dark, waiting.
I couldn't breathe. I was being dragged out of my
tent and everything felt like a blur.
My hands were grabbing at anything they could find, the
dirt, the grass, but nothing was helping.
I felt the claws of that creature, sharp and relentless,
pulling me away from safety. My chest was tight, and I
couldn't even scream any more. It was like the fear had just
swallowed my voice. Marlin.
I heard Addie's voice, shaky and terrified, calling out my name.
I wanted to answer her, to let her know I was still here, but I
couldn't. I could barely think, all I knew
was that I had to get away from whatever was dragging me.
Suddenly I felt something snap inside me.
It was like my survival instinct just kicked in and I started
struggling as hard as I could. I twisted my body, kicking at
the creature and somehow managed to grab hold of its jaw.
It was grotesque, almost rubbery, and the next thing I
knew I was pulling, tearing. The creature let out this awful,
bone chilling howl, like a mix between a human scream and an
animal's cry, and its grip loosened just enough for me to
break free. I scrambled backward, my hands
and knees scraping against the ground, and finally found my
voice. Help, Mom, Dad.
I screamed, my throat burning. I heard Addie yelling too, and
then I saw my parents stumbling out of their tent, my dad
holding the rifle, his face pale with shock.
Get away from him. Dad shouted, aiming the gun at
the creature. I looked back, and in the dim
light of the campfire, I saw it. Its face was twisted, the jaw
hanging by a thread, and its eyes, those eyes were still
locked on me, full of hatred. It was like it didn't care about
anyone else, just me. It wanted me.
The creature let out another scream, this one even more
twisted, like it was in pain, and then it turned and
disappeared into the darkness. It moves so fast, almost like it
was gliding, and within seconds it was gone.
The forest went silent, like nothing had even happened, but I
could still hear the ringing in my ears from my own screams.
Mom was beside me in an instant, her hands shaking as she tried
to check me over. Oh my God, Marlin, are you OK?
She asked, her voice cracking. I could barely nod, Everything
hurt, my leg felt like it was on fire, and when I looked down I
saw the blood. It was everywhere, my hands were
covered in it. Dad, we need to go.
Addie's voice was frantic, and she was right, we couldn't stay
here, not with that thing still out there.
Dad helped me up, his eyes darting around like he expected
the creature to come back any second.
We're getting out of here right now.
He said, his voice firm, but I could tell he was scared too.
I'd never seen him like that before.
It made everything feel even more real, more terrifying.
We stumbled around, trying to pack up as fast as we could.
I could hear Mom and Addie whispering, their voices full of
panic. Addie kept saying how she felt
something too, like she couldn't move when the creature appeared.
I wanted to tell her I understood, that I felt it too,
but I couldn't find the words. Everything just felt so unreal.
As Dad carried me to the car, I looked back at the campsite.
The fire was still flickering, casting these long dark shadows
over the trees, and for just a second I thought I saw it again.
Those eyes watching us from the edge of the woods.
I blinked and they were gone. But the feeling stayed.
That heavy, awful feeling that told me this wasn't over.
Not even close. When we finally got to the car,
Dad floored it and we speed down the dark winding Rd. leaving the
campsite far behind. But no matter how far we went, I
couldn't shake that feeling. It was like the creature had
left a part of itself with me, a part that was never going to let
me go. Mom kept saying everything was
going to be OK, that we were safe now, but I didn't believe
her. I could still feel the
creature's claws on my skin, could still hear its voice in my
head, whispering that terrible promise.
I will get you. Waking up in the hospital was
strange. At first, I didn't know where I
was. All I knew was that everything
hurt, and the bright lights above me made my head # when I
finally opened my eyes all the way, I saw my parents sitting
beside me, their faces tired and worried.
Mom was holding my hand, and when she noticed I was awake,
she started crying. Marlin.
She whispered, squeezing my hand.
You're OK honey, you're safe. Safe.
I wanted to believe her, but I couldn't forget what had
happened. I could still feel the claws of
that creature on my leg, and when I looked down, I realized
why I was feeling so different. My leg, one of them, was gone.
I could feel my heart sink, and I looked back at my mom.
She tried to give me a comforting smile, but I could
tell she was scared too. It was a deer attack.
Dad said quietly. A terrible freak accident, but
you're going to be OK, Marlon. I wanted to argue, to tell them
it wasn't just a deer, it was something else, something evil.
But looking at their faces, I knew they wouldn't understand.
They wanted so badly for this to be something normal, something
they could explain. And maybe they were right.
Maybe I just imagined the whole thing.
Maybe it was just the trauma making my memory all twisted.
But then I looked over at Addie. She was standing in the corner,
her face pale and her eyes wide. She hadn't said anything, not
since I woke up. When our eyes met, she gave me
this tiny nod, like she knew what I was thinking.
She'd seen it too. Whatever that thing was, it
wasn't just in my head. Days turned into weeks, and I
tried to move on, to pretend like everything was fine.
I got used to the crutches, to the missing leg.
I told myself over and over that it was just an accident, that
nothing else had been out there in the woods.
But the truth was, I never really believed it, and I knew
Addie didn't either. We didn't talk about it, though
it felt like if we did, we'd be inviting that thing back into
our lives. Now, years later, I've tried to
leave it all behind. I'm in college, trying to live
my life like a normal person, even though I know I'm anything
but normal. My friends asked me to go
camping with them for spring break, and I couldn't say yes
fast enough. No way was I going back into the
woods, not after everything that happened.
We decided on a lake house instead, which seemed a lot
safer. No deep dark forests, no deer
hiding behind the trees. And it was nice, you know?
For the first time in a while, I felt like I could actually
relax. We spent our days fishing,
swimming, and just hanging out by the water.
But on our last night, I was sitting by the lake, watching
the sunset, and I felt that old feeling again, that creeping
dread, like I was being watched. I looked across the lake, my
heart pounding, and there it was, a figure just standing at
the edge of the trees. It was too far away to see
clearly, but I knew. I knew it was the same creature.
Its silhouette was all wrong, its limbs too long, its posture
twisted. It lifted one of its hands, and
I saw those long fingers tap, tap, tapping against a tree.
I heard my friends calling for me from the house, and I turned
my head for just a second. When I looked back, the figure
was gone, but the fear wasn't. I could feel it in my chest,
tightening like a vice. I knew right then that it wasn't
over. That thing was still out there,
waiting, watching. I don't think it'll ever stop.
The town of Bay Horse, Idaho always had this way of
swallowing time. Like it wasn't just a place
where nothing happened, it was a place where it seemed like
nothing could happen. And honestly, most days I liked
it that way. I could drift along without much
trouble. Just me, the woods, and memories
of Max. But that day, something was
different. I headed out toward the mining
camp, like I always did when I needed to clear my head.
The road there wound through the forest, a thin strip of cracked
asphalt that led you deeper and deeper into isolation.
It was almost comforting, you know, the quiet, the way the
wind made the leaves tremble, the crunch of gravel under my
boots. But today, I felt something
else, a wait I couldn't quite shake.
Maybe it was because of the stories going around about the
girls who'd gone missing. No one said it out loud, but you
could tell everyone was scared. Not me, though.
I didn't think it could touch me.
I guess that's what being young and dumb gets you.
When I reached the old mining camp, the place looked as
deserted as ever. Rusted out trailers and
equipment sat forgotten, like relics of a time no one cared to
remember. I found the spot near the fence
where we'd buried Max, a simple mound of earth marked by a
small, smooth stone I'd brought back from the river.
I knelt down and traced the edge of the rock with my fingers.
Max had been the best dog I could have asked for, and I
hated that I couldn't save him when he ran out into the road.
That memory sat like a stone in my gut, heavy and unmovable.
I don't know how long I knelt there, but after a while the air
shifted. You ever have one of those
moments where the world feels like it's just paused?
Like all the birds, the wind, everything stops.
Just for a heartbeat, That's what happened.
I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and that's when I
heard it. A scream.
It wasn't a normal scream either.
It was high pitched, almost unnatural, echoing through the
trees like it had no real direction.
I froze, my pulse hammering in my ears.
It was the kind of sound that dug straight into your bones.
I told myself someone might be in trouble.
Even though my gut said otherwise, the right thing to do
was check it out, right? So I started walking.
Cautious but curious, I stepped off the path and into the woods,
pushing past branches and ducking under low hanging limbs.
The scream came again, this time closer, and my stomach twisted.
The forest that had always felt like a second home suddenly felt
foreign, like I didn't belong. I kept going, though, because
something in me needed to know. The light filtered through the
trees in these odd patterns, casting long, thin shadows that
seemed to shift whenever I looked away.
I must have walked for 10 minutes when I saw it.
The trees up ahead weren't just moving in the wind, they were
thrashing, like something big was pushing them aside.
My first thought was that it might be a deer or maybe an elk,
though I'd never seen one act like that.
And then I saw it. The creature stepped into the
clearing, and I swear my brain just stopped for a second.
It looked like an elk, sure, but wrong.
The fur was matted and dark, almost rotting in places.
And its eyes, They were this glowing yellow, like headlights
cutting through a fog. But the worst part was what it
held in its mouth. There was a human head trapped
between those huge jaws, and the face on it was contorted in an
endless, silent scream. I couldn't breathe.
I wanted to move, to run, but my feet were glued to the ground.
The thing, whatever it was, looked right at me, and I knew
then that this wasn't just some animal.
There was something in its eyes, something that understood far
too much. A branch snapped behind me, and
that was enough to break the spell.
I turned and bolted, the forest a blur around me.
I didn't know where I was going, just that I had to get away.
My heart pounded, my lungs burned, but I couldn't stop.
I caught sight of an old van, abandoned and rusting away, and
I dove behind it, pressing myself flat against the cold
metal. For a second, I thought maybe
I'd lost it. I could hear my own breath,
harsh and ragged, and I tried to quiet it, to make myself
invisible. I reached into my pocket and
pulled out a granola bar. Don't ask me why I thought it
would help, but I threw it as far as I could, hoping the noise
would draw the creature away. There was a pause, and I dared
to peek around the edge of the van.
The creature had moved off, sniffing the air where the
granola bar had landed. Relief washed over me, just for
a second, until its head snapped back around, those yellow eyes
locking on to me again. Panic surged through me and I
scrambled to my feet, running again.
I heard the crash of branches as it followed, gaining ground.
I thought that was it, that I was done for, when I heard
something else. The distant roar of dirt bikes.
I pushed myself harder, my legs screaming in protest, until I
broke through the tree line and saw them.
Bikers, maybe four of them, tearing up the trail.
I tried to wave them down, but before I could shout, the
creature was there, crashing into them like a nightmare made
real. 1 biker was swatted aside, his bike crumpling beneath him.
Another tried to speed away, but the creature was too fast.
I didn't stick around to watch. I turned and ran, my only
thought now to survive. And that's when she showed up.
A girl on a motorbike, her face half hidden behind goggles.
She skidded to a stop, yelling at me to get on.
I didn't think twice. I jumped on the back and we tore
away, the wind whipping against my face.
I could still hear the screams behind us, but they were fading,
replaced by the roar of the engine and the pounding of my
heart. For a moment, as the trees
blurred past, I almost believed we'd made it.
I should have turned back. I mean, anyone with half a brain
would have done just that after seeing what I did.
But there was something in me, a stubbornness maybe, that kept me
moving forward. You know, like that feeling you
get when you're watching a horror movie and you just want
to shout at the screen. Don't go in there.
Well, I was that guy, only no one was there to tell me to
stop. The scream had left me shaken,
and the sight of that creature, a rotting elk with a human head
in its jaws, had done even worse.
It was the stuff of nightmares, but I couldn't let it go.
I had to know what I'd seen, and honestly, part of me hoped I'd
imagined the whole thing. The clearing where I'd first
spotted the creature was empty now, just a mess of broken
branches and torn up earth. It didn't feel right, like the
air itself was tainted, thick and heavy, pressing down on me.
I scanned the tree line, every shadow seeming a little too
dark, every rustle of leaves making my pulse quicken.
It felt like the forest was holding its breath, waiting.
I crouched beside one of the tracks the creature had left
behind. The indent in the earth was
deep, the size of my hand, but twisted in a way that made my
skin crawl. I could almost picture the
weight of the thing, its unnatural gait.
The sight of it made me shiver, and I had to look away.
Then I heard it again, a rustling, but not from the wind.
It was too deliberate for that. I stood, heart pounding in my
ears, and squinted into the trees.
For a second I thought I saw movement, a shadow slipping
between the trunks, there 1 moment and gone the next.
My mouth went dry. Hello.
I called out, though I wasn't sure I wanted an answer.
My voice sounded small, swallowed up by the forest.
I took a step back, then another, and that's when I saw
them, eyes glowing yellow, peering at me from the
underbrush. My stomach dropped.
The creature stepped out from between the trees, moving slow
like it knew I had nowhere to go.
Its eyes locked on mine, and I could see the head still clamped
in its jaws, the face slack and lifeless.
The scream was gone, replaced by a silence that felt even worse.
I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
It was like my body had forgotten how.
Then something snapped inside me, instinct maybe, and I turned
and ran. I crashed through the trees,
branches tearing at my clothes, my feet barely finding purchase
on the uneven ground. I didn't dare look back.
I could hear it behind me, the heavy thud of its steps, the
sound of branches snapping like twigs.
My lungs burned, and I stumbled, catching myself just before I
hit the ground. There was an old van up ahead,
something left behind when the mining camp shut down.
I lunged for it, pressing myself against the side, trying to make
myself as small as possible. I could hear my own breath,
ragged and too loud, and I clamped a hand over my mouth,
willing myself to be quiet. The woods had gone silent again,
but I knew it was out there. I could feel it.
Slowly, I peeked around the edge of the van, my heart pounding so
hard I thought it might give me away.
And there it was, standing in the clearing, its head low,
sniffing the air. I watched as it turned, moving
toward the spot where I'd thrown the granola bar earlier.
For a second, hope flared in my chest.
Maybe it hadn't seen me. Maybe I'd get out of this.
But then its head snapped around, those yellow eyes
locking on to me like it knew exactly where I was.
Panic surged through me and I pushed off the van, running
again, my legs screaming in protest.
I didn't have a plan, just the need to get away, to put as much
distance between me and that thing as I could.
The forest blurred around me, the world narrowing down to the
sound of my own breath, the pounding of my feet and the
crash of the creature behind me. And then, through the trees, I
saw them. Dirt bikers, their engines
roaring, tearing up the trail ahead.
My heart leapt. I waved my arms, shouting, but
my voice was lost in the noise. Before I could reach them, the
creature burst from the trees, slamming into the bikers like a
force of nature. One was thrown to the side, his
bike crumpling beneath him. Another tried to speed away, but
the creature was faster. I didn't wait to see what
happened. I turned and ran, the screams
echoing in my ears, my only thought now to survive.
Just when I thought I couldn't go any farther, I heard the
rumble of another bike, closer this time.
I turned and there she was, a girl on a motorbike, her face
hidden behind goggles, her hair whipping in the wind.
She skidded to a stop, yelling at me to get on.
I didn't think, I just did it. I jumped on to the back, my
hands gripping the sides of her jacket, and we speed away, the
wind tearing at my face, the world blurring past us.
I could still hear the creature behind us, the crash of branches
as it followed, but slowly the sound began to fade.
I didn't know who she was, didn't know where we were going,
but for the first time since I'd seen that thing, I felt a
flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, we'd make it
out of this alive. I hung on tight to the back of
the bike, my fingers digging into the leather of her jacket.
Honestly, I was just trying to keep from falling off.
The wind whipped at my face, stung my eyes, and the forest
blurred into nothing but streaks of brown and green.
My heart was still pounding from the chase, and every time the
bike swerved I felt like I might just go flying off into the
trees. But anything was better than
being back there facing that thing.
The girl didn't say a word, and I couldn't really blame her.
We were both too focused on getting away.
Still, I couldn't help noticing odd little things, like the way
her jacket smelled of charcoal and mint, a weirdly calming mix
in the middle of all this chaos. It's funny what your brain
latches onto when it's trying not to panic.
I guess I was just looking for anything that felt normal, even
if it was just the smell of someone's jacket.
We hit a rough patch in the trail, the bike bouncing and
skidding over the rocks, and I had to bite down on a Yelp.
The creature was somewhere behind us, and I wasn't about to
give it any more reason to follow.
I glanced over my shoulder, but all I could see was the empty
trail, the dust kicked up by the bike.
Maybe we'd lost it. Maybe the roar of the engine
drowned out everything else. My thoughts, the fear, the
pounding of my heart. But then, through the noise, I
heard something else. A scream.
Not the high pitched, unnatural one from before, No, this was
different. Human, terrified and all too
real. I looked back again, and that's
when I saw them. The dirt bikers, the ones I'd
thought might save me. The scene was chaos.
One of them was already down. His bike crumpled beneath him
and the creature was on top of him.
I couldn't see much, just a blur of antlers and fur and the awful
jerking motion of the creature's head.
Another biker tried to swerve around, but the creature was too
fast. It lashed out and he went
flying, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
I wanted to look away. I should have looked away, but I
couldn't. It was like my brain couldn't
quite process what was happening, like if I just kept
watching, maybe it would start to make sense.
But it didn't. It just got worse.
The creature turned, its yellow eyes locking onto US, and for a
second I thought it might come after us again.
I could see the head still hanging from its jaws, the face
twisted in that awful, frozen scream.
My stomach turned and I had to force myself to look forward, to
focus on the trail ahead. The girl must have seen it too,
because she gunned the engine and we shot forward, the bike
skidding and swerving as we hit another rough patch.
I leaned into her, trying to make myself as small as
possible, trying to disappear. I could still hear the screams
behind us, but they were fading, replaced by the roar of the
engine and the rush of the wind. I don't know how long we rode
like that, it felt like hours, but it was probably only
minutes. The forest eventually began to
thin out, the trees giving way to open fields, and the sun was
starting to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in
shades of orange and red. It should have been beautiful,
but all I could think about was getting as far away from those
woods as possible. Finally, she slowed the bike,
pulling off the trail and coming to a stop near an old, rusted
out fence. I stumbled off, my legs shaky,
and took a few steps away, trying to catch my breath.
My whole body felt like it was buzzing, the adrenaline still
surging through my veins. The girl killed the engine, and
for a moment, everything was quiet.
Too quiet. I turned to look at her, finally
getting a good look at her face. She was younger than I'd
expected, maybe just a year or two older than me, with dark
eyes that seemed to take everything in.
She pulled off her goggles, her expression unreadable, and for a
second we just stared at each other.
Thanks. I managed to say, though it felt
like such a small word for what she'd done.
She'd saved my life, and all I had was thanks.
But she just nodded, like she understood.
Do you know what that thing is? I asked, my voice barely more
than a whisper. I wasn't sure I wanted to know
the answer, but I had to ask. I had to know if I was losing my
mind or if this was really happening.
She looked back toward the woods, her gaze distant.
No, she said, finally. But it's not the first time I've
seen it. A chill ran down my spine.
Not the first time. That meant it was still out
there somewhere, and it could come back.
I wanted to ask more, to press her for answers, but the look on
her face stopped me. She was scared too, maybe even
more than I was. Come on, she said, her voice
tight. We need to keep moving.
It might still be following us. I nodded, swallowing hard.
She was right. We couldn't stay here.
I climbed back onto the bike, my hands gripping the sides of her
jacket once more, and she started the engine.
The roar filled the silence, and we took off again, leaving the
woods and whatever horrors they held behind us as we rode.
I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over, not by a
long shot. The creature was still out
there, and now I knew I'd seen too much to ever feel safe
again. When I finally made it home that
night, everything felt wrong. The front door was slightly
ajar, and the light in the hallway flickered as I stepped
inside. My parents were in the living
room, faces tense, waiting for me.
I don't know what I expected, a hug, maybe relief, But the
second my mom saw me, she was on her feet, her voice sharp.
Where have you been, Aaron? Do you have any idea what time
it is? I opened my mouth, but no words
came out. What could I say?
That I'd just been chased by a monster out of some twisted
nightmare? That I'd seen people die and
barely escaped myself? It all sounded ridiculous, even
in my head. I swallowed hard, trying to find
the right words, but nothing felt right.
I, I got lost. I said finally, my voice barely
a whisper. It was the only thing I could
come up with that might make sense.
My dad sighed, shaking his head, and I could see the
disappointment in his eyes. You've got to stop this, Aaron.
He said, his voice low and tired.
All these stories, it's too much.
You're scaring your mother. I wanted to argue, to tell them
that it wasn't just a story, that what I'd seen was real and
that thing was still out there somewhere, but the look on their
faces stopped me. They weren't going to believe
me, No one would. I was on my own.
That night. I lay in bed, staring at the
ceiling, the events of the day playing over and over in my
mind. I could still see the creature's
eyes glowing yellow in the darkness, and that awful,
lifeless face hanging from its jaws.
I tried to push the images away, to think of something else, but
it was like they were burned into my brain.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake them.
The worst part was knowing it wasn't over the girl who'd saved
me. She'd said it wasn't the first
time she'd seen that thing, which meant it was still out
there and it could come back. I didn't know why it was here or
what it wanted, but I knew one thing for sure.
It wasn't finished, and neither was I.
Years later, I found myself back in Bay Horse, standing at the
edge of the forest. I'd left this place behind as
soon as I could, but something had always pulled me back.
It was like a loose thread, I couldn't stop picking at a
question that refused to be answered, and today, I was
finally ready to face it. The air was cool, the autumn
leaves rustling in the breeze, and for a moment, everything
felt almost peaceful. But the memory of that day still
lingered just beneath the surface, like a shadow that
refused to fade. I took a deep breath, trying to
steady myself, and stepped into the woods.
The path to the old mining camp was overgrown now, the trees
crowding in on either side, their branches twisted and
gnarled. It was hard to believe I used to
come here all the time, that this place had once felt like a
refuge. Now it was just a reminder of
everything I'd lost. I made my way to Max's grave,
the small mound of earth almost hidden beneath the fallen
leaves. I knelt down, brushing the
leaves aside, and that's when I saw it.
A young Birch tree, its slender trunk reaching toward the sky.
It wasn't much, just a sapling, but it was something, a sign
that life could still find a way, even here in a place that
had seen so much death. I sat there for a while, just
watching the leaves sway in the breeze, and for the first time
in a long time, I felt a sense of peace.
Maybe it was the tree, or maybe it was just knowing that I'd
come back, that I hadn't let the fear keep me away.
Whatever it was, it felt like a weight had been lifted, like I
could finally breathe again. But as the sun dipped below the
horizon, the shadows began to lengthen, and the familiar
feeling of unease crept back in. The forest around me seemed to
shift, the light fading, and I couldn't shake the feeling that
I was being watched. I stood up, my eyes scanning the
trees, but there was nothing there.
Just the wind, the rustling leaves, and the distant call of
a bird. Still, I couldn't ignore the
chill that ran down my spine, the way my instincts screamed at
me to leave. I took a step back, then
another, my heart beginning to race.
I knew it was probably nothing, just my imagination playing
tricks on me, but after everything I'd seen, I wasn't
about to take any chances. I turned and walked away, my
pace quickening as I made my way back to the edge of the woods.
I could feel the weight of the forest behind me, the darkness
pressing in, and I didn't dare look back.
Not until I was out in the open, the town lights just visible in
the distance, did I finally let out the breath I'd been holding.
I knew I'd be back. Maybe not tomorrow, or even next
year, but someday. There were still too many
questions, too many things I didn't understand.
But for now, it was enough to know that I'd faced it, that I
hadn't let the fear win. And as I walked away, the breeze
carrying the scent of the autumn leaves, I felt a strange sense
of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could
finally start to let go. But as I reached the edge of
town, I couldn't help but glance back, just once, at the dark
line of the trees, And for a second, I thought I saw
something. Something moving just out of
sight. I blinked, and it was gone.
Probably just the wind, I told myself, turning away.
But deep down, I knew better. Some things never really leave.
They just wait, bidding their time, hiding in the shadows.
And one day I knew I'd have to face it again.
But until then, I'd hold on to the hope that maybe, just maybe,
there was still a way to find peace.
It was a perfect autumn evening as we packed up Ben's truck and
headed out of the city. Honestly, it was one of those
rare moments where everything just felt right.
The air had that crisp bite to it, and the leaves were all
shades of orange and red, exactly the kind of scenery
you'd want for a camping trip. Ben was driving, as usual, and
Phil was in the back seat fiddling with a map.
We didn't actually need the map, but he liked to pretend we did.
Phil was that kind of guy, always double checking and
worrying like he didn't totally trust GPS.
Are you sure we're going the right way?
Phil asked for the 10th time. Ben just smirked, keeping his
eyes on the road. Relax, Phil.
Ben said, rolling his eyes. I know these woods better than
my own apartment. He said it with so much
confidence that even I started to feel a little more at ease.
I wanted to believe him, and for a while I did, but as we drove
deeper into the woods, I couldn't help but notice how the
trees seemed to close in around us.
The further we went, the narrower the road got until it
was just a dirt path, barely wide enough for the truck.
It wasn't long before we finally reached a clearing.
Ben parked, and we all hopped out to start setting up camp.
I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling
that had settled in my chest. The air smelled like pine
needles and damp earth, comforting at first, but then
there was something else, a faint sour smell I couldn't
quite place. I tried to ignore it as we
unpacked our gear, but I kept glancing over my shoulder, half
expecting to see something lurking behind the trees.
It was silly, I told myself. We were miles from civilization,
just us and the forest. What could possibly be out here?
We set up our tents as the sun dipped below the horizon.
The sky was still a soft orange, but shadows were already
creeping through the woods and I found myself working faster,
trying to beat the dark. I wasn't the only one.
Phil fumble with the poles of his tent, muttering under his
breath while Ben kept looking around like he was making sure
we weren't being watched. That should have reassured me,
but instead it just made the tension grow.
By the time we got a fire going, it was almost completely dark.
The flames flames flickered and danced, casting weird shadows
across the clearing. Ben plopped down on a log,
grinning at us. All right, who's got a good
ghost story? He asked, rubbing his hands
together like this was what he'd been waiting for all day.
I tried to smile, but it felt forced.
Still, I settled down next to Phil and listened as Ben
launched into a story about a ghost that supposedly haunted
these woods. He used a spooky voice, drawing
out every detail, and Phil laughed nervously, even though I
could see he was getting a little freaked out.
I didn't want to admit it, but I was too.
There was something about the way the fire light flickered,
how the darkness seemed to press in from all sides.
It felt like the forest was watching us, holding its breath
every time a branch snapped in the distance.
I found myself tensing up, expecting.
Well, I didn't know what I was expecting, but it was enough to
keep my eyes darting around the clearing, searching the shadows.
Ben's story ended with a jump scare.
He lunged at us suddenly, making Phil Yelp and almost fall off
his log. Ben laughed, a big booming laugh
that echoed through the woods, but it died down pretty quickly.
I think we all realized just how quiet it had gotten, The kind of
quiet that makes you feel like you're not alone.
All right, enough of that. Phil said, trying to sound
casual as he stood up. I'm heading to bed.
He glanced at me and I nodded, relieved for the excuse to call
it a night. The sooner I could get inside
the tent, away from the dark, the better.
I wasn't scared, I told myself that, but there was something
about the woods tonight that felt off.
Just as we were about to head to our tents, a rustling sound came
from the bushes. It was soft, but loud enough to
make us all freeze. I turned to look at Ben,
expecting him to say something, maybe crack a joke about rabbits
or raccoons, but for once, he didn't.
He just stared at the Bush, his expression unreadable.
My heart started to pound, a cold knot of fear tightening in
my stomach. Probably just a rabbit.
Ben finally said, but his voice didn't sound as confident as
before. He flicked his flashlight on and
aimed it towards the noise. The beam cut through the
darkness, but all it showed were branches swaying gently in the
wind. I tried to laugh, but it came
out as more of a nervous cough. Yeah, a rabbit?
I echoed, though I didn't quite believe it.
I forced myself to turn away, to head towards my tent, but that
uneasy feeling wouldn't let go. It felt like we were being
watched, like there was something out there just beyond
the firelight, waiting. As I zipped up my tent, I heard
it again, a rustling closer this time.
My hands went still, my breath catching in my throat.
I listened, straining to hear over the pounding of my heart.
But then nothing. Just the wind, or maybe the
crackle of the dying fire. I closed my eyes, trying to
convince myself it was all in my head, but deep down, I knew
something was out there, and I had a feeling that whatever it
was, it wasn't going away anytime soon.
It was probably around midnight when I first heard it.
I was lying in my tent, trying to convince myself that
everything was fine, that the woods were just, well, the
woods. I mean, they're supposed to be
full of weird noises, right? But then I heard that sound.
Soft at first, almost like a whisper, but enough to make my
skin prickle. It was a rustling coming from
the bushes near our campfire. I held my breath, listening.
My heart was pounding so loud I was sure it would wake Phil, who
was in the tent beside mine. I wanted to tell myself it was
just the wind, or maybe a small animal like Ben said earlier,
but there was something about it, something too deliberate.
I peeked through the small mesh window of my tent, trying to see
out into the darkness. The fire had mostly died down,
just a few embers glowing red, casting faint flickering light
across the campsite. The shadows looked like they
were moving, and I couldn't tell if it was just the wind or
something else. I heard Phil shifting in his
tent. Did you hear that?
He whispered, his voice barely audible.
It made me feel a tiny bit better, knowing I wasn't the
only one who was on edge. Yeah.
I whispered back. It's probably nothing, right?
I wanted him to agree, to tell me I was just imagining things.
But there was a pause, and that silence said everything.
Suddenly there was a growl, low and deep, like it came from
right outside. My heart stopped, and I felt my
entire body freeze. It wasn't like any animal I'd
ever heard before. It sounded almost like it came
from something bigger, something that shouldn't be out there.
I heard Ben's tent unzip, and then I saw him stepping out,
flashlight in hand. He looked annoyed, but I could
tell by the way his hands shook that he was scared too.
What the heck is that? Ben muttered, aiming his
flashlight into the woods. The beam cut through the
darkness, illuminating the trees, but all I could see were
branches and leaves swaying. Ben took a step forward, and
then another. I wanted to call out, to tell
him to get back in his tent, but the words just wouldn't come
out. I was too scared to even
breathe. Then we saw them.
Two yellow eyes, glowing in the beam of Ben's flashlight.
They were staring right at us, unblinking.
My stomach twisted into a knot, and I felt a cold sweat break
out on my forehead. Whatever it was, it was watching
us, and it wasn't afraid. The eyes were too high up, like
they belonged to something standing on its hind legs.
Something tall, way taller than any animal that should be in
these woods. Ben took a step back, his
flashlight shaking. Get in the tents.
He whispered, but I could hear the fear in his voice.
I couldn't move. I was just staring at those
eyes, unable to look away. They were so bright, like they
were glowing from within. And I swear I saw something move
behind them, A shadow, a shape. Then it stepped forward, and I
saw it clearly. It looked like a deer, but
wrong. It was huge, towering over Ben,
standing on its back legs like a person.
Its antlers were twisted, almost like they were reaching out
towards us, and its mouth was open, showing rows of sharp,
glistening teeth. I felt my legs go weak, and I
dropped to the ground, scrambling back into my tent.
I could hear Phil breathing heavily, and I knew he was
seeing it too. Ben shouted, and I heard the
unmistakable sound of his rifle, a deafening crack that echoed
through the woods. My ears were ringing, but I
could still hear the growl, louder now, almost like a roar.
I peeked out again, and what I saw made my blood run cold.
The creature hadn't moved. It was still standing there,
staring at us like the bullets hadn't even touched it.
Its eyes were locked on Ben, and then it let out a howl, a sound
so loud and so full of rage that it made me clap my hands over my
ears. Run.
Ben yelled, and that was enough to snap me out of it.
I didn't think, I just moved. I tore out of my tent, my feet
barely touching the ground as I sprinted towards the truck.
I could hear Phil behind me, and Ben's heavy footsteps as he ran
to the ground was uneven, roots and rocks everywhere, and I
stumbled, almost falling, but I couldn't stop.
I knew if I stopped, that thing would be on me.
Phil was right behind me, and when I tripped over a root he
grabbed my arm, pulling me back up.
Come on, we have to go. He shouted, his voice almost
drowned out by the pounding of my own heart.
We were almost at the trucks, I could see them just a few yards
away, and for a second I thought we might actually make it.
Then I felt it, sharp claws raking across my back.
The pain was blinding, and I cried out, stumbling forward.
Phil was still holding on to me, and he dragged me the last few
feet to the truck. Ben was already there, fumbling
with the keys, his face pale in the moonlight.
I could hear the creature behind us, its footsteps heavy, each
one making the ground shake. We scrambled into the truck, and
Ben slammed the door just as the creature lunged at us.
It hit the side of the truck with a force that made the whole
thing rock, its claws scraping against the metal.
I looked out the window and its eyes were right there, staring
in at me. They were filled with something
I couldn't quite describe, anger, hunger, something that
made me feel like we were nothing more than prey.
Ben started the truck and we speed off, the tires kicking up
dirt and leaves. I looked back and in the rear
view mirror I saw it standing there, watching us, its glowing
eyes following us until we disappeared down the road.
Even as we left it behind, I knew one thing for sure.
This wasn't over, not by a long shot.
I don't know how we made it to the trucks, honestly.
It was all a blur of branches, shadows, and that awful sound,
the heavy crashing footsteps of the creature getting closer.
I could barely breathe, my chest burning as I ran, my legs
feeling like they could give out at any moment.
Phil was right next to me, his face pale in the moonlight, his
eyes wide with the same fear that was clawing at my insides.
The trucks were right there, maybe 20 feet away, and it felt
like they were miles. I could hear Ben just ahead,
already fumbling with his keys, and I knew we didn't have much
time. That thing, it wasn't just going
to let us go. It felt like it was playing with
us, like a cat with a mouse, just waiting for the right
moment to pounce. I tripped over something, a root
I think, and for a second I thought that was it.
I went down hard, the ground knocking the wind out of me, and
all I could think was that I was done for.
Phil though, he didn't even hesitate.
He turned back and grabbed me, pulling me to my feet.
Come on. He yelled, his voice almost
breaking. I could hear the terror in it,
and somehow it got me moving again.
We stumbled the last few feet to the trucks, and I saw Ben
finally get the door open. He practically dove inside, and
I could hear him yelling at us, but it was like my brain
couldn't make sense of the words.
I could feel the creature behind us, could feel its eyes on me,
and it felt like I was moving through a nightmare.
Everything was too slow, and I knew that if I looked back, I'd
see it. Those glowing yellow eyes.
The twisted antlers. The teeth.
Phil shoved me towards the truck and I grabbed the handle,
yanking the door open and scrambling inside just as
something crashed into the back of the truck.
The whole vehicle rocked and I heard the metal crunch.
Ben was shouting and Phil was pulling himself into the back
seat, slamming the door shut. My hands were shaking so bad I
could barely get the lock down before the creature lunged
again. It was on the hood now, its
claws raking against the windshield.
And for a second, I was sure it was going to come right through
the glass. Its eyes were locked on mine,
and they were filled with this. This anger, this hunger that
made my stomach twist. I felt like I couldn't breathe,
like the air had been sucked right out of the truck.
It was huge, and the way it moved, the way it stared, it
wasn't just an animal. It knew exactly what it was
doing. Ben slammed his foot on the gas
and the truck lurched forward, throwing me back against the
seat. The creature slipped its claws,
leaving long, deep scratches in the hood as it fell away, and
for a split second I thought we'd gotten away.
But then I heard it. A howl so loud it made my ears
ring, filled with this terrible, almost human rage.
I glanced in the side mirror and there it was, standing in the
middle of the road, watching us as we speed away.
I couldn't look away from it, even as the truck bounced over
the rough dirt Rd. even as the trees blurred past us.
Those eyes stayed with me. They were burned into my mind,
and I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't over that thing.
Whatever it was, it wasn't just going to let us leave.
It was like it was memorizing us, like it was making sure it
knew who we were. Phil was breathing heavily in
the back seat, and Ben's knuckles were white as he
gripped the steering wheel. None of us said anything for
what felt like forever. The only sound was the roar of
the engine and the pounding of my own heart.
I wanted to say something, anything, but I didn't know
what. There weren't any words that
could make sense of what just happened.
Eventually, Ben spoke, his voice shaky.
We're not. We're not stopping until we're
out of these woods. No one argued.
I think we all felt the same way, That if we stopped, if we
even slowed down, it would be there, waiting.
The road seemed to go on forever, winding through the
dark woods, and every time we hit a bump I flinched, half
expecting to see those eyes again.
I kept looking in the mirror, my eyes searching the darkness, but
there was nothing. Just shadows and the occasional
glimpse of moonlight through the trees.
But I knew it was still out there.
I could feel it, like an itch at the back of my mind that
wouldn't go away. Finally, the trees started to
thin, and I saw the lights of a house in the distance.
It felt like a weight lifted off my chest, and I let out a breath
I didn't even realize I'd been holding.
We were almost out, almost safe. Ben didn't slow down until we
hit the main road, the pavement smooth under the tires.
He finally pulled over, and for a second, none of us moved.
The silence was deafening after all the chaos, and I could still
hear that howl echoing in my head.
Phil was the first to speak, his voice barely a whisper.
What? What was that?
None of us had an answer. I wasn't even sure I wanted one.
Part of me just wanted to forget it, to pretend it never
happened, but I knew deep down that I couldn't.
Those eyes, that howl, It was all still there, just under the
surface, waiting. And I knew, somehow, that it
wasn't over. Not really.
We drove the rest of the way home in silence, the memory of
those glowing eyes following us all the way back.
We didn't talk much after that night in the woods.
I think we all just wanted to forget what happened and pretend
like it was just some horrible dream.
But honestly, that was impossible.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those glowing yellow eyes
staring back at me, and I heard that howl so full of rage and
hunger that it made my skin crawl.
It was like the creature had etched itself into my mind, and
no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake it.
Phil and Ben were the same. We avoided each other for a
while, like seeing each other would remind us too much of what
happened. It was easier, I guess, to just
stay apart. But it didn't really work.
The fear didn't go away, it just grew.
And the more I thought about it, the more I needed to know what
that thing was. I couldn't just leave it alone,
I had to understand, even if it scared me half to death.
So I started doing some research.
It was slow at first. I didn't really know where to
start. I mean, what do you even look
up? Scary monster in the woods.
I tried to think about everything we saw that night.
The way it looked, the way it moved.
And eventually I found something.
It was an old legend, a story people used to tell around these
parts. It was called the Wendigo.
The more I read about it, the more my heart sank.
The Wendigo was supposed to be a creature of hunger, something
that used to be human but had become a monster driven by an
insatiable need to eat. It was said to live in the
woods, to watch and wait for people who wandered too far into
its territory. Everything about the legend
matched what we saw. The height, the antlers, the
glowing eyes, and that horrible, awful hunger.
It all fit. I remember sitting at my
computer, staring at the screen, feeling a chill run down my
spine. I'd wanted answers, but now that
I had them, I almost wished I didn't.
The Wendigo wasn't just some animal, it was something far
worse. It was a monster, a spirit of
the woods, and we'd wandered right into its territory.
We were lucky to be alive. But the worst part was, as I
read more, I realized that the Wendigo didn't forget.
It remembered its prey, and it never stopped hunting.
I knew I had to tell Ben and Phil, even if they didn't want
to hear it. I called them and we met up at
Phil's apartment. It felt weird being back
together after everything. We sat in Phil's living room,
and I could tell from the look on their faces that they were
just as scared as I was. Ben tried to act tough like he
always did, but I could see his hands shaking.
Phil just looked tired, like he hadn't slept in days.
I guess none of us really had. I told them about the Wendigo,
about everything I'd found. The room was quiet as I talked,
and I could feel the tension growing like a knot tightening
in my chest. When I finished, no one said
anything for a long time. Finally, Ben let out a long
breath and shook his head. So what do we do?
He asked. His voice was low, almost a
whisper. We can't go back there.
We can't ever go back. Phil nodded, and I could see the
fear in his eyes. We just, we just forget about
it, he said. We don't talk about it.
Maybe if we ignore it, it'll leave us alone.
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to think that if we
just stayed away, if we never spoke of it again, we'd be safe.
But deep down, I knew it wasn't that simple.
That thing, it wasn't just an animal.
It was smart, and it was angry, and it knew us.
It had looked right at me, and I knew it wasn't going to just
forget. Still, we agreed.
We made a pact right there in Phil's living room that we
wouldn't talk about it again. We wouldn't tell anyone what
happened, and we'd stay as far away from those woods as we
could. It seemed like the only thing we
could do, even if it didn't feel like enough.
After that, we tried to move on. We went back to our lives, back
to work, back to pretending everything was normal.
But it wasn't. Every time I heard a strange
noise at night, I'd jump, my heart pounding, expecting to see
those yellow eyes staring back at me.
I couldn't help it. The fear was always there,
lurking just beneath the surface.
One night a few weeks later, I was sitting in my apartment
trying to watch TV, when I heard it.
A noise outside my window. It was soft, just a rustle, but
it made my blood run cold. I got up slowly, my heart
pounding, and peeked through the curtain.
The street was empty, just the wind blowing leaves across the
pavement. But for a moment, just a split
second, I thought I saw something.
A shadow moving between the trees, something tall and thin,
with glowing eyes. I closed the curtain quickly, my
hands trembling. Maybe it was just my
imagination, maybe it was nothing, but I couldn't shake
the feeling that it was still out there, watching, waiting.
The Wendigo didn't forget, and neither could I.
We'd made a pact to stay silent, but I knew that silence wouldn't
protect us. It was still out there,
somewhere in the dark, and no matter how far we ran, it would
always remember us. And that, honestly, was the
scariest part of all.