I've always loved the woods. There's something about the way
the trees swallow, you whole cutting you off from the static
of the world. but this time, they felt different Not
welcoming, not vast and free, just wrong.
It started the second, we pulled off the gravel road and into the
clearing Boone. Our older lab was pacing in the
back seat before I even put the car in park, Juneau whose
usually the Bold one, wouldn't stop whining.
Looks perfect, right? I forced to smile glancing at my
wife. Claire She nodded though her
brow was furrowed. Tyler, our son jumped out before
I could say anything else. Clutching his little backpack,
Looks like a movie he yelled as boond past him barking at the
tree line. Boone, I called and he froze
tail. Low ears pinned back.
He trotted back slowly nose to the ground like something was
out there. It put me on edge.
Bun wasn't scared of anything. We got to work.
Setting up camp. The clearing was big enough for
the tent, the fire pit and a spot for Tyler to play around
all wrapped in a thick wall of trees, too thick, almost.
It felt like the forest was watching us.
Claire must have noticed it too, because she stayed closed while
unpacking glancing over her shoulder more than usual.
You hear that she asked at one point pausing mid-step.
I stopped too listening. It took me a second to realize
what was missing? The birds the damn Birds.
No chirping. No rustling nothing but the
faint hum of the Wind Through The Pines.
It's just quiet out here. I said, though, it felt like a
lie. Even as it left my mouth.
By the time we lit, the fire that night my unease hadn't gone
away bun and Juno Sat stiffly by the fire, their eyes, tracking
something beyond the globe. Tyler laughed as he roasted
marshmallows oblivious. Claire stared at the fire.
Like it was the only thing grounding her.
It started small, a crack of a branch in the distance.
Bun. Stood immediately growling low.
Another crack closer. This time Juno joined him her
hackles up Probably a deer. I muttered though my hand
drifted to the shotgun. I'd propped against the tent.
The footsteps weren't like a deer too slow, deliberate heavy,
they circled us, crunching leaves and snapping Twigs.
Staying just out of sight, Boone barked sharply launching into
the darkness, but stopped dead at the edge of the firelight
growling like he didn't want to go farther.
Stay back. I shouted into the night
gripping, the shotgun, hoping the noise would scare off
whatever it was. Silents, not even a shuffle.
The forest held its breath. I didn't sleep that night every
time the footsteps started again.
I would freeze praying. It was just an animal.
But by morning, I was certain of one thing.
We weren't alone. The morning didn't bring any
relief, if anything the forest heavy or in the daylight like it
was closing in on us, the birds were still silent.
The are stale and Bun and Juno hadn't relaxed one bit.
Boone sniffed constantly his nose low to the ground while
Juno stuck. So close to Tyler, you'd think
she was glued to him. Let's Take a Walk, Claire
suggested, trying to ease the tension.
Her smile was forced, but I agreed.
Anything to shake off the unease from the night before.
We followed an overgrown Trail, just beyond the clearing.
It twisted through the dense Woods.
The kind of path you'd Miss if you weren't looking for it.
Tyler, led the way bouncing ahead like nothing was wrong.
While bun stayed, just a step behind him, his ears, flicking
at every sound. I kept the shotgun slung over my
shoulder. Not normal for a casual hike,
but nothing about this trip. Felt normal anymore.
We hadn't gone far, when Boone froze.
He barked once sharpened loud and took off down the trail.
My chest tightened as I called for him running after him before
he got too far. Boom.
Get back here. Claire shouted, panic in her
voice. Tyler stopped his smile gone as
we all broken into a Sprint. When I caught up to Boone, he
was standing at the edge of a clearing barking.
Furiously at something. I couldn't see.
What is it? Boy, I whispered stepping
forward. That's when I saw it and
abandoned campsite or what was left of one, a shredded tent,
lay collapsed in the dirt. Its poles snapped like Twigs.
A cooler was tipped over its sides, crushed Inward, and a
propane stove, lay bent and broken nearby.
The place looks like it had been hit by a tornado, but there was
no storm damage. No, Fallen trees, just
destruction, did, did animals do this?
Claire asked her voice? Barely above a whisper, I wanted
to say yes, but my gut told me. No.
I stepped closer scanning the wreckage something glinted in
the dirt fabric, torn to shreds and something else.
A child's shoe small and muddy sitting upright on a stump like
it had been placed there on purpose.
My stomach turned. Let's go.
I said backing away bun barked at the woods again, his growls
louder this time, Claire grabbed Tyler's hand and pulled him
close What about them? Tyler asked, looking back at the
Shoe. I didn't have an answer.
Back at Camp. I tried to Shake It Off.
We set up for lunch and Tyler played with Juno nearby.
But the woods felt tighter. Darker like something was
watching Claire went to gather kindling and Bun bolted after
her barking like he was chasing something, what happened?
I asked when she ran back pale and shaking, I wasn't alone.
She said I swear, I saw something.
It was huge crouched in the trees, its eyes, her voice
cracked, they were glowing. Boone growled into the forest
but the trees gave nothing back. Whatever was out there.
It was waiting watching and we still had one more night.
The sun set below the trees too quickly and the forest swallowed
the light in one long goal. The fire crackled weekly at the
center of the clearing but it wasn't enough to push back the
creeping Darkness. Bun and Juno were restless
pacing the perimeter, their growls, low and constant,
Claire, sat with Tyler pressed against her her eyes darting to
every sound. I stayed on my feet gripping,
the shotgun scanning the shadows for movement.
I don't think it's safe to stay another night, Claire whispered.
Her voice trembled. And I couldn't argue.
The unease from earlier had grown into a suffocating weight
pressing down on all of us. Something was out there
something was watching. The first sound came just as I
moved to douse the fire, a branch, snapping loud and
deliberate. Then another closer.
Bun barked sharply, the fur along his spine.
Bristling Juno whimpered circling back toward Tyler
inside the tent. I ordered my voice sharp.
Now, Claire grabbed Tyler, and pulled him toward the tent, but
before they could reach it, the Rope alarm rattled violently the
sound of metal cans. Jingling was like a gunshot in
the Stillness. Then came the growl low guttural
and impossibly, deep it vibrated through the ground.
Freezing us all in place. Boone lunged forward barking
furiously, but he stopped short of the Treeline teeth bared.
My flash like caught the edge of something, a shadow that moved
too fast and too low to be human.
Get to the car. I barked backing toward Claire
in Tyler. My heart was hammering against
my ribs, the shotgun trembling in my hands.
Will never make it Claire hist but we had no choice.
Another growl echoed from the opposite side of the clearing.
There was more than one I fired a shot into the trees.
The blast deafening in the quiet. something screamed, a
sound so unnatural and high-pitched it made my blood
run cold, Bun and Juno snarled barking at the Shadows.
That seemed to close in. On all sides, run, I shouted
grabbing Claire's arm and shoving her toward the car.
Tyler clung, to her tears, streaming down his face as we
sprinted for the truck, parked at the edge of the clearing,
Boom, and Juneau flanked us barking.
Madly their eyes locked on the Shadows darting between the
trees. As we reached the truck, I threw
open the doors. Get in, I yelled shoving, Claire
and Tyler inside bun jumped in next.
But Juno hesitated her gaze. Locked on the darkness behind
us. Juneau come.
I screamed. But she let out a Savage growl
before. Leaping into the truck.
I slam the door. Shut and fumbled with the keys.
My hands shaking uncontrollably. The growls grew louder closer
circling, the truck. The flashlight beam caught a
glimpse of something massive. Its eyes glowing white hot like
Embers. I turned the ignition, the
engine roaring to life just as a shadow slammed against the side
of the truck with a force that made it Rock.
Go go. Claire screamed.
I floored the gas pedal, the tires kicking up dirt.
As we sped down the trail. Something chased us its
footsteps, pounding behind us too fast and too heavy to be
human. I didn't dare look in the
rearview mirror. Only when we hit the main road
to the pounding stop. My knuckles were white on the
steering wheel. My breath coming in gasps.
Claire clutched, Tyler tears, streaming down her face while in
Juneau, sat Ridgid still growling Softly.
We didn't speak until we reached the edge of town the distant
light's promising safety. My voice was hoarse.
When I finally broke the silence, be careful.
When going into the woods, you never know what you might
encounter. We were four days into what was
supposed to be the trip of a lifetime.
The kind of honeymoon you dream about just me, Emma, and Max.
Our half-wolf of a dog out in the Appalachian Wilderness.
No distractions. No work emails.
No. Anything just the crackle of
campfires, the smell of Pine and the kind of Silence.
You only find when the nearest town is a two-hour drive away.
Emma had just started packing away the remnants of our dinner,
some Gourmet freeze, dried. Something that neither of us
would ever admit tasted like cardboard, when Max let out this
low guttural growl, the kind that makes your skin tighten
over your bones. I glanced at him.
He was staring off into the darkness Beyond the Edge of our
campfire. Hackles raised lips peeled back
over his teeth. My first thought was Bare or
coyote this deep in, they were not uncommon and Max usually had
a sixth sense about them. Max stop.
Emma said, put her voice didn't carry its usual confidence.
She looked at me eyes darting toward the dark as if asking me
to confirm that everything was okay.
Before I could say anything. A voice soft almost melodic, cut
through the air. Can I sit by your fire?
Emma, jumped dropping the empty pan.
She'd been holding Max's growl turned into a full-throated
bark. The kind that echoed off the
trees, my heart, which had been beating steadily until that
moment kicked into a gallop, the woman was just there, like she'd
stepped out of the Shadows themselves.
I hadn't heard her approach. No crunch of leaves.
No, snap of a twig, nothing one second, it was just the two of
us and the next she was standing there at the edge of the
firelight Barefoot and still she didn't look homeless or
anything, just Wrong. Her clothes hung Loosely
mismatched and wrinkled like she'd thrown them on with
outlooking. Her dark hair clung to her face
and oily, strands. And her eyes, God her eyes They
didn't focus on me or Emma. They were not looking at Max
either despite his barking. It was like she wasn't really
looking at anything. Just staring into some middle
distance, only she could see, A no.
I said trying to keep my voice steady.
We're about to head to bed, actually.
She didn't react not at first she just stood there swaying
slightly. Her hands hanging limp at her
sides. I glanced at Emma, hoping she'd
say something. But she was frozen her lips.
Parted like she wanted to speak but couldn't Max lunged forward,
snapping, his jaws and that finally made the woman, take a
step back. Your dog doesn't like me.
She murmured almost to herself. I tightened my grip on Max's
leash. Yeah.
He's not usually like this. I lied.
He's just protective. She tilted her head as if
weighing my words, then without another sound, she turned and
walked away not toward the main path where the other campers
were but deeper into the woods. the firelight didn't reach far
enough to track her for long, but I swear, I could hear her
bare feet brushing against the undergrowth long, after she
disappeared, For a moment, neither of us, said anything.
The silence was oppressive like the trees themselves were
holding their breath. Jake.
I'm a finally whispered her voice shaking.
Who the hell was that? No idea.
I said, but the truth was, I didn't believe she was just
another camper. Something about her didn't fit.
The next morning, the encounter felt almost like a dream.
One of those disjointed nightmares that sticks with you,
even after you wake up Emma didn't say much as we ate
breakfast, but I caught her glancing toward the tree line,
more than once. Even Max seemed on edge sniffing
at the air and winding Softly. I decided to walk down to the
water pump to refill our bottles.
The campground was quiet. Most of the other campers were
probably still sleeping. As I approached the pump, I saw
her again. She was standing near a tree
maybe 15 feet away as still as a statue.
Her head was tilted at that same odd angle, her hands hanging
limp at her side. This time her eyes were locked
on me. I froze.
Hey, I managed my voice sounding far less casual than I wanted it
to. She didn't answer instead, she
stepped forward and held something out.
To me. It was a key, rusted and old
with scratches running along its edges, like it had been on.
You dropped this? She said, I didn't drop
anything. I said, taking a cautious, step
back, she smiled, then a thin humorless curve of her lips.
You'll need it later. She said her voice soft almost
Singsong. Look.
I don't know what this is about but I don't need it.
I said keeping my voice firm. Her smile didn't falter, she
tilted her head, the other way, then, placed the key on the
ground between us. Without another word she turned
and walked away heading back into the woods as silently as
she appeared. I stood there for what felt like
an eternity staring at the key. Finally, I bent down and picked
it up. It was heavier than it looked
Cold against my palm. A faint smell of rust clung to
it metallic and sharp. By the time I got back to our
campsite Emma was waiting for me.
What took you so long? She asked her tone light but her
eyes weary. Nothing.
I said slipping the key into my pocket just ran into someone.
I didn't tell her about the woman or the key not yet.
Not until I knew. What the hell was going on.
By the time, the sun rose on our 5th day in the woods, I was
ready to pack up and go. Emma hadn't, slept much after
the weird encounter the night before and Max had been on edge
growling at every Creak and snap of a brand.
I tried to tell myself, it was just the isolation messing with
me. That the woman was probably some
eccentric hiker with zero sense of personal boundaries.
But deep down, I didn't believe that.
Still, I didn't want to freak, Emma out any more than she
already was. So I convinced her we'd report
the incident to the Rangers, on our way to the next trailhead.
We'd put some distance between us and her, but that plan
unraveled before we even left the site. the first sign,
something was wrong came when we walked past the woman's campsite
Or at least the campsite where she'd been staying.
It was trashed completely obliterated. tent poles were
snapped like twigs and bits of fabric hung from the surrounding
trees, like some grotesque art, installation, trash food and
clothing were scattered everywhere as if the whole place
had been ransacked Emma nudged me and whispered was it a bear?
I didn't answer because I wasn't sure Max sniffed at the air.
Then whimpered and tucked. His tail between his legs.
Something he hadn't done in years.
Whatever had happened here, wasn't normal.
Then I saw the stones in the middle of the wreckage was a
circle of rocks. Carefully arranged each one
marked with Jagged scratches that almost looked like rooms at
the center of the circle. Was The Rusted key, the same
damn key. My stomach turned, I'd left it
in my pocket last night, I was sure of it.
And yet, there it was sitting in the dirt like it had always been
there. What the hell is that?
Emma asked her voice low nothing.
I lied grabbing her arm. We should let the Rangers deal
with this. Come on.
She hesitated her eyes flicking between me and the circle of
stones, but eventually nodded, I didn't look back as we walked
away. The ranger station was less than
a mile from camp but the walk felt endless.
The trail was eerily quiet with no birds or rustling leaves to
break the silence. Emma tried making small, talk to
lighten the mood but I could tell she was just as on edge, as
I was. When we got to the station, I
explained everything to the ranger on duty, a tall broad
shouldered guy named Brian. He listened his expression,
calm, but I could see the flicker of unease in his eyes.
that cites been vacant for a while he said after I described
the woman, No, it hasn't. Emma cut in.
We saw her staying there. She had a tent, and she was She
Trail off realizing how crazy it sounded.
Brian scratched, his beard and glanced out the window.
I'll take a look. He said finally.
Probably just some squatter. It happens more than you'd
think. His tone was casual, but his
hand hovered near the radio clipped to his belt.
We headed back to Camp, trying to shake off the conversation.
Emma seemed a little more at ease, but I couldn't stop
thinking about the key about the stones.
Something about it felt. Deliberate like whoever or
whatever had done it wanted us to see.
When Sam and Lisa arrived later that afternoon there, upbeat
energy was a welcome to distraction.
They were in easygoing couple, we'd been friends with for years
and they immediately set about pitching their tent and
unpacking snacks. For a few hours, things felt
normal again but normal didn't last.
It started while Sam was setting up their tent.
I just handed him a beer when Emma froze.
Midlife her eyes locked on something behind me.
Jake, she whispered. I turned and there she was
again. The woman stood, just beyond the
edge of our site, half hidden in the shadows.
She wasn't Barefoot. This time, she wasn't even
dressed the same. She wore a strange Patchwork of
clothes, like she'd raided a thrift store and picked
everything at random. Her face was blank as always,
but her eyes. Her eyes were different, they
were not vacant anymore, they were locked on me, sharp and
hungry. Can I help you?
I said trying to keep my voice steady.
She didn't respond. Instead, she took a step closer,
her gaze shifting to Sam and the half assembled tent.
That's the same tent as mine. She said, softly only bigger I
can help you set it up. Sam gave her a polite but firm
smile. No, thanks.
We got it. But she didn't move, she
crouched down. Picked up one of the tent stakes
and ran her fingers along its Edge.
Like it was something fragile and precious.
I said we're good. Sam said his tone sharper this
time. For a moment, she just stared at
him. The stakes still in her hand.
Then she picked up the Mallet. We'd been using and stood
holding both items as if weighing her options.
It was the stair that did it the way she looked at him at all of
us. Like she was calculating
something. Sam took a step forward and held
out his hand. Can I have my stuff back,
please. The air between them felt like
it was about to snap, then just as suddenly as she appeared.
She dropped everything in bolted Into the Woods.
Emma. Let out a shaky breath.
What the hell was that? I don't know, I said, but we're
keeping watch tonight that night as the fire burned low.
We heard the singing. Started faint barely more than a
whisper. At first we thought it was
someone playing music in the distance but as it grew louder
we realized it wasn't coming from One Direction.
It was all around us, weaving through the trees, like the wind
itself, carried it. The melody was Haunting almost
hypnotic, but the words, if they were words were unintelligible.
Max barked snapping me out of the trance.
I grabbed a flashlight and Shone it into the woods and for a
brief second, the beam caught her face.
She was standing between two trees.
Her head tilted. A strange smile on her lips.
When the light hit her, she turned and vanished.
Moving impossibly fast. We stayed up all night.
Each of us taking turns keeping watch every Russell.
Every snap of a branch sent my heart racing, but the singing
didn't come back by morning. None of us felt safe anymore. we
should have left, right then and there But we didn't.
We should have left God, we should have packed up the
second, the sun rose and not looked back.
But Sam said we were overreacting.
She's just some weirdo. He'd said with a shrug popping
open. Another can of beer, weirdos are
harmless. Harmless the word rattled around
in my skull. As we headed back to her wrecked
campsite Emma, had convinced us to take one last look before we
made any decisions. I told myself it was just
curiosity that we wanted to see if the Rangers had cleaned up
the mess. But deep down I think we were
all trying to convince ourselves that none of this was as bad as
it seemed. We were wrong.
The site was worse than before. The circle of stones was still
there. But now, there were two circles,
the second one larger and more elaborate, the marking on the
stones deeper and more precise Fresh dirt had been scraped over
the ground, as though, something had been buried.
There. Emma, spotted, the claw marks,
first long deep gouges that ran vertically up nearby tree.
They were too high to have been made by an animal, but there
they were unmistakable, Okay, I'm officially freaked out.
Lisa said her voice shaking? Can we go now?
I nodded, but something stopped me in the center of the larger
Circle partially buried in the dirt was another object.
It was a photograph. I crouched down and picked it
up, brushing off the dirt. My heart dropped into my
stomach. It was a picture of our campsite
our exact campsite taken from the woods.
The fire pit was glowing faintly.
Meaning, the photo had been taken at night and there we were
sitting around the fire oblivious I handed it to Emma
without saying a word. She gasped her hand flying to
her mouth. Who took this Sam asked?
His voice low. You already know.
I said, the sun was starting to dip below the trees by the time,
we got back to our site. None of us spoke much the weight
of the photo hanging over us. Like a storm, cloud.
Max was on edge, again, pacing, and sniffing the air, his
growls, low and constant. It was Emma, who broke the
silence? Let's go to the lookout.
She said her voice, trembling just for a little while, I don't
want to sit here in the dark. The Lookout Point wasn't far,
maybe a 10 minute walk. It was one of the most beautiful
spots in the park perched, high above the valley with sweeping
views of the river below. I think Emma was hoping the view
would call us down. Remind us why we came here in
the first place. It didn't, the lookout was empty
when we arrived. The air was cooler up there.
The breeze rustling through the trees in a way that should have
been peaceful. But the tension between us was
Electric. We sat in silence taking in The
View. The sun was a fiery, orange ball
sinking slowly behind the distant mountains, Emma snapped,
a few photos her camera, clicking softly in the
Stillness. That's when I saw her, she was
on the ridge. Below us far enough away to look
like just another hike at first glance. but it wasn't just
another hiker, it was her She stood perfectly still her head
tilted in that same unnerving way her hair hanging in dark
curtains around her face. Even from this distance I could
feel her watching us. I grabbed Amazon don't, look, I
whispered what why she froze when she saw the woman is that
Sam started, but I cut him off. Yes, I said, don't move the
woman raised her arms. Slowly deliberately and pointed
toward the valley below, then she turned and disappeared into
the trees. By the time we got back to Camp,
the sun had set the air felt thicker heavier as though, the
woods themselves were pressing in on us.
We found the note taped to the cooler, you'll need it soon.
I didn't want to touch it, but Sam grabbed it and crumpled it
in his fist. That's it.
He said, we're leaving right now.
But before we could start packing, the singing came back,
it was louder this time, more gutter like a chance the melody
twisted and warped echoing off the trees coming from everywhere
and nowhere. All at once.
Max went berserk barking and lunging at the Shadows.
I grabbed the flash light and swept it across the woods for a
moment. I saw nothing but trees and
undergrowth, then I saw her, she was standing just beyond the
firelight and this time she wasn't alone.
The shadowy figures from before were back, but now I could see
them more clearly. They were not people, they were
wrong. Their limbs were too long, their
bodies too, thin and their faces, if they had faces were
hidden in the Darkness. The woman took a step forward.
Her eyes locked on me. I reached into my pocket and
pulled out the key. I don't know what you want.
I said my voice shaking but take it I threw the key toward her
and the moment it hit the ground, the singing stopped.
The figures dissolved into the shadows and the woman tilted.
Her head. One last time before turning and
disappearing into the woods. We didn't sleep that night at
first light. We packed up our gear and left
We didn't bother with the ranger station or stopping for coffee.
We just drove putting as much distance between us and that
place as possible. And I still have nightmares
about her sometimes. About the way she watched us
about the photo about what might have happened, if I hadn't
thrown that key. I don't think I'll ever go
camping again. You know that feeling when
you've been craving something for so long that when you
finally get it, it almost feels too good to be true.
That's how I felt as I parked my car on the narrow strip of dirt
at the edge of the forest. The forest woodsy are hit me
like a wave. When I opened the door, the kind
of air that makes you feel alive.
Even if your fingers are already starting to know, The city was
miles away and afterthought. Really, and for the first time
in weeks, I could breathe. I double checked the gear in my
pack compass map sleeping bag, my lightweight tent Fire,
Starter Kit knife everything a solo camper like me.
Could need this wasn't my first trip, not by a long shot.
I liked going off Trail finding a pocket of the woods where I
could really be alone. The kind of alone.
That feels freeing not isolating.
Out here, I wasn't dodging, cat calls on the sidewalk or
navigating crowds with my head down.
Out here. I was in charge.
It was laid after noon, when I finally started hiking, the sun
dipping low behind the trees and casting everything.
In a rich Golden Light. The trail wasn't much more than
a faint, Deer Path, overgrown and quiet.
I let my thoughts drift as I walked soaking in the quiet
rustle of leaves in the occasional of a bird.
It was so peaceful. I almost didn't notice the first
weird thing. There was a branch broken and
dangling at an odd angle, just off the trail.
I wouldn't have thought much of it except the break was too
clean fresh. The wood inside was pale and
splintered, the kind of thing. You'd expect to see if someone
had snapped it with their hands. But who there wasn't a soul out
here at least there wasn't supposed to be I shook it off.
Could have been an animal, a bear, maybe, or a moose.
I told myself not to overthink it, but I couldn't help glancing
over my shoulder a few times. As I walked By the time I found
my spot, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon.
I chose a small clearing with just enough room for my tent and
a fire. It was perfect.
Secluded quiet. Surrounded by thick trees that
felt like a natural barrier from the outside world.
I set up quickly pitching my tent with practiced ease and
Gathering some kindling for the fire.
By the time, the Flames were crackling.
The stars were beginning to show dotting the inky black sky like
pin Pricks of light. I leaned back against my pack
and let out a long breath. This was what I had come for.
No deadline's, no noise. Just me and the wilderness.
I even laughed a little thinking about how my friends in the city
would call me crazy for doing this.
You're going to get eaten by a bear, one of them had joked.
I rolled my eyes at the time, but now sitting there in the
dark, the thoughts sent a small shiver down my spine.
It wasn't the idea of a bear that bothered me though.
It was the quiet. Too quiet.
The kind of quiet that makes your ears strain for any sound,
even a distant one. Normally the woods at night are
alive with noise. Crickets owls the occasional
rustling in the underbrush but tonight nothing just the faint
crackle of my fire and the steady pounding of my own
heartbeat. I told myself to get a grip, I
was just overthinking it right? First night Jitters I poked at
the fire watching The Embers rise and flicker against the
dark. But even then I couldn't shake
the feeling like there were eyes on me from somewhere deep in the
shadows. Still, I managed to sleep.
I don't know how long I was out, but I woke up at some point in
the night to a strange sound a low distant crunch like
Footsteps in the snow. My eyes snapped open my body
Frozen. As I strained to listen, the
sound was faint, almost too faint to hear, but it was their
rhythmic deliberate getting closer.
I fumbled for my knife, my fingers, stiff and clumsy in the
cold, the sound stopped. For a long moment.
I held my breath waiting listening.
Nothing. Just the soft rustle of the Wind
Through the Trees. Eventually, I convinced myself,
it was just an animal, a deer or a raccoon or some other harmless
creature. I tucked the knife under my
pillow and tried to drift off again.
But even as I closed my eyes, that feeling lingard gnawing at
the back of my mind, like I wasn't as alone as I thought.
When I woke the next morning, the woods were cloaked in a
heavy fog. The kind that muffled sound and
makes everything feel smaller and closer.
My fire had long since burned out leaving behind a circle of
cold, Ash, For a moment. I lace still in my sleeping bag.
Staring at the pale gray, light, filtering through the nylon of
my 10. My mind, wandered back to the
noise from the night before. The crunching footsteps. the way
they stopped, so suddenly, I told myself again, it was
probably an animal, but the memory left, an uneasy knot in
my stomach. I shook it off.
I needed to focus on packing up. The fog was bad but it would
burn off soon enough and I wanted to make it to the road by
early afternoon. Solo camping is about trusting,
yourself your instincts, your skills.
Panic is the enemy, and I wasn't about to let my nerves.
Get the better of me. but when I stepped out of my tent that knot
in my stomach tightened, the air was thick with moisture and the
silence was still wrong. No birds, no insects just the
faint drip of do falling from the branches.
I glanced around the clearing scanning for anything out of
place. My tent was intact my gear
untouched but there was something off the trees seemed
Closer Than They had the night before their dark trunks,
looming through the fog, like silence sentinel's.
I busied myself with breaking Camp, forcing my thoughts, into
practical tasks, pack up the sleeping bag, fold the tent,
double check the map and Compass.
But as I worked, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was
being watched. It wasn't just paranoia, it was
physical. That prickling sensation on the
back of your neck. The Instinct that makes you turn
around even when you know, no one's there.
By the time I hoisted my pack onto my shoulders and started
hiking. I was practically counting the
seconds until I could see the road again.
The trail. I'd mapped out wasn't an
official one, just a series of game trails and landmarks But I
knew it well enough to keep a steady Pace despite the fog.
The first mile was uneventful but the silence was suffocating
and every crunch of my boots on The Frozen Ground sounded
deafening I didn't notice the clearing until I was almost in
it. One moment I was pushing through
the underbrush and the next the trees opened up into a wide
circular space. I stopped dead in my tracks.
My breath catching in my throat. In the center of the clearing, a
deer carcass hung from a low Branch strung up by its hind
legs. Its belly had been split open
the entrails removed and piled neatly beneath it.
The blood was fresh glistening in the dim light.
Fly flies, Buzz, lazily around the scene, but there was no
other movement, no sound, except the faint rustle of leaves in
the distance. I froze.
My mind racing. Hunters.
But no Hunter would do this. It was too precise too
deliberate. The entrails weren't discarded.
They were arranged almost ritualistic.
And who would leave a kill like this in the middle of the woods,
even in the cold decomposition would set in fast, it didn't
make sense. I took a shaky step back, then
another, my boots crunching against the frost.
That's when I saw it tracks in the snow.
Not animal tracks, boot prints. Big ones leading from the base
of the tree into the dense underbrush on the far side of
the clearing. Whoever had done.
This was still out here. My stomach lurched, I turned and
bolted the pack on my back. Slowed me down but I didn't dare
stop. The trees blurred around me as I
crashed through the underbrush branches clawing at my arms and
face. I didn't know how long I ran,
but when I finally stopped gasping for air, I realized I'd
lost my bearings. Everything, looked the same in
the fog, the same trees, the same pale ground.
I pulled out my compass with shaking, hands forcing myself to
focus. South, I just needed to head
south The road was somewhere that way.
The crunching sound came again faint and far off but this time
it wasn't stopping footsteps. Heavy deliberate, getting
closer. I didn't wait to find out who or
what it was. I ran again this time, clutching
my knife in one hand, my other arm pumping, awkwardly under the
weight of my pack, my lungs burned, and my legs screamed for
me to stop but I didn't dare Not until I saw the pale Gravely
edge of the road through the trees.
I burst out of the forest and collapsed onto the asphalt,
trembling and gasping for air. My car was 50 yards down.
It's blue frame, barely visible in the fog.
I stumbled toward it. Fumbling with the keys as I
reached the driver's side door. When I finally managed to get
inside and lock the doors. The relief was so overwhelming.
I almost cried. I sat there for a long time,
gripping the steering wheel staring at the empty road ahead.
Eventually I started the engine and drove to the nearest ranger
station. I wasn't sure what I was going
to say. How do you even begin to explain
something like this? But I had to tell someone.
Even now hours, later parked outside a cheap, motel with the
door voltage, shut behind me, I can't shake the image of that.
Deer. The way its lifeless eyes seemed
to follow me. The way the entrails were
arranged. So carefully like a message.
I couldn't understand. And the tracks those boot prints
leading away into the fog. Whoever left them, they were out
there and they knew exactly where I had been.
I barely slept that night. The motel room was cold and damp
the thin walls doing little to muffle the creaks and groans of
the building or the occasional sound of tires, hissing along
the wet Road outside, but it wasn't the room, keeping me
away, it was the image of that deer.
The precise cuts the entrails and the unmistakable boot prints
leading into the forest over and over my mind.
Replayed, the sound of these crunching footsteps.
The thought of how close they had been.
When my phone buzzed the next morning, I nearly jumped out of
my skin. It was officer Reeves the
ranger. I'd spoke into at the station
the day before. He sounded annoyed.
Like he'd already decided this was a waste of time, but he
agreed to meet me at the forest's edge.
Show me where you saw it. He said I could hear him tapping
something in the background, like he was already half
distracted. I didn't care about his
skepticism. I just wanted someone else to
see it to confirm. I wasn't losing my mind.
Reeves arrived in a beat-up. ATV, his face lined and
weathered. He looked more bored than
concerned like he'd seen too many wild.
Goose chases to expect this to be anything different.
Let's get this over with. He muttered.
Motioning for me to hop onto the back.
The ride into the forest was jarring every bump and jolt
rattling, my already frazzled nerves.
The fog had lifted, but the are heavier than before the silence
pressing down like a weight. Reeves.
Tried to make small talk as we drove something, about how
Hunters sometimes mess around with their kills, but his words
barely registered. My eyes were fixed on the trail
ahead every shadow between the trees sending my heart racing.
When we reached the clearing the ATV sputtered to a stop.
I climbed off hesitantly, my stomach sinking, as I scan the
area. The deer was gone.
Figures Reeves said, Crossing his arms.
He sounded almost smug. Probably a bear, dragged it off,
happens all the time. No, I said, shaking my head.
This wasn't an animal. There were boot prints.
Someone did this. Reeves sighed and crouched down
near the center of the clearing examining, the dark stain in the
dirt where the deer had been. The blood was still there, thick
and glistening but the entrails were scattered now.
Like something or someone had deliberately kicked them apart.
Bears can leave messy scenes. He said though his tone had
softened, he wasn't as sure as he wanted me to believe.
Look, I said pointing to the snow on the far side of the
clearing. The drag marks were still
visible. A long, smooth path, leading
into the trees. Does that look like a bear to
you? Reeves straight and slowly his
face pale. He opened his mouth to say
something but no words came out instead, he pulled a flash light
from his belt and motioned for me to follow him.
Stay close. He said his voice tight.
The trail let us deeper into the woods, the trees growing thicker
and the light dimmer. With every step, my breath came
shallow and fast each exhale, a cloud of white in the cold air
Reeves didn't say much but his hand hovered near the gun on his
hip that more than anything terrified me.
After what felt like ours, we came to another clearing my
stomach churned, as I saw the scene in front of us my campsite
or what was left of it. My tent was destroyed slashed to
ribbons that fluttered. Weakly in the breeze, my gear
was scattered everywhere, shredded beyond recognition.
And there in the center of it all was another pile of
entrails. They weren't arranged this time.
Just dumped in a heap, like someone had grown bored of
playing games. Bloods.
Soaked the snow in dark sticky patches.
Reeves, cursed under his breath. Jesus Christ, he muttered
pulling his gun from its holster.
He turned in a slow Circle scanning the trees.
We need to go now. What the hell is this?
I whispered my voice shaking who would do something like this, I
don't know, Reeves said his eyes.
Darting nervously from Shadow to shadow.
But we're not sticking around to find out.
I wanted to argue to demand answers, but something about the
tension in his voice stopped me. He wasn't just spooked, he was
scared, I followed him back to the ATV.
Glancing over my shoulder with every step.
Sure, I'd see someone or something lurking, just beyond
the trees. We didn't speak on the drive,
back to the road Reeves. Kept one hand on the wheel and
the other on his gun, his knuckles White against the black
grip. When we reached the edge of the
forest, he didn't say goodbye. He just told me to leave and not
come back. I drove straight to the motel,
my hands, trembling on the wheel.
I wanted to believe it was over that I could just leave and put
it all behind me. but later that night, as I sat curled up on the
bed with the TV buzzing in the background, my phone rang It was
Reeves. His voice was low, almost a
Whisperer. The trail cameras.
He said we checked them. My heart stopped. and, There was
a long, pause then quietly. He said it wasn't a bear.
Click, the line went dead. I stared at the phone, my blood
running cold, I didn't call him back.
I didn't want to know. All I knew was that I had been
lucky luckier than I had ever been in my life.
And I wasn't going back to that, Forest not ever.
They always say familiarity breeds complacency.
I guess I'm living proof of that.
For years, the trails at Great. Smoky Mountains of where my
Escape. I knew every Twist and Turn
every incline in Rocky outcrop. That night though, they turned
on me. It started like any other ride.
I had pushed myself further than usual that evening taking the
longer Loop out. The trail there winds through
thick woods and even in the dim light of dusk, the air smelled
of Pine and wet Earth. By the time I decided to head
back the sun was long gone leaving only a swollen moon to
light my way. The trail stretched out before
me and a pale ribbon, the trees. Casting long Twisted Shadows
across the dirt. I wasn't worried hadn't even
thought to bring a flash light. The Moonlight was enough and I'd
bike this route so many times. I could probably do it
blindfolded. but as I pedaled deeper into the woods, a strange
silence fell over the trail, the usual chirping of crickets and
the occasional Russell of night Critters faded, replaced, by
nothing. Just the crunch of my tires on
the dirt. I Shrugged it off.
Convincing myself, the cooler night are had quieted the
wildlife. That's when I heard it, a sharp,
crack to my left, like a branch snapping under something heavy.
My hands tightened on the handlebars as I slowed scanning
the woods. The Moonlight barely penetrated,
the thick canopy turning the underbrush into a black
impenetrable wall. I told myself it was probably a
deer or maybe one of those feral Hogs that occasionally wandered
through the park. I didn't see anything.
So, I pushed forward forcing my legs to keep pedaling, but the
sound lingered in my mind gnawing at the edges of my
confidence. A few minutes later just as I
was starting to relax again, something hit me.
Hard. Pain bloomed in my thigh and I
skidded to a stop nearly toppling off the bike.
I looked down expecting to see blood or some kind of injury but
there was nothing. That's when I saw it a rock,
maybe the size of a baseball rolling lazily across the trail
in front of me. My first thought kids, some
little brats sneaking around after dark screwing with whoever
passed by. But as I scan the ridges on
either side of the trail, there was no sign of movement, just
more shadows and then another rock came.
This one hit the front wheel of my bike with a dull thunk and
bounced onto the trail. My stomach dropped the kind of
feeling you get when you miss a step on the stairs.
I glanced uphill my eyes adjusting slowly to the dark.
That's when I saw it at first. I thought it was a trick of the
Moonlight, a shadow stretching in some weird way, but then it
moved, A hulking figure tall and Broad standing on the ridge
above me. It's arms were raised.
And even from that distance I could tell it wasn't right.
It's outlined was Jagged wild and it didn't move like a person
should. It screamed.
The Sound tour through the silence guttal and raw, echoing
off the trees. It wasn't human.
It couldn't be. My mind scrambled for an
explanation, but nothing fit. My hands went cold and my bike
tipped as I tried to process. What I was seeing before I could
make sense of it, the figure moved fast and deliberate
charging downhill. My body kicked into autopilot, I
didn't think. I didn't look back.
I just pedaled hard. Betrayal blurred under my tires
as I raced toward the stone bridge that crossed Blackwater
Creek. Behind me, I could hear rocks.
Thudding into the dirt, some Landing close enough to make me
Flinch. The thing, it was still
screaming a sound that didn't belong in this world, let alone
this park. As I neared, the bridge a shadow
passed over the trail in front of me.
I looked up in time to see a massive Boulder, hurdling,
through the air, slamming into the creek with a splash that
soaked the bridge and missed. My lungs burned.
My legs ached but I didn't stop. I wouldn't stop.
Not until I was home. I finally burst out of the woods
and into the clearing near my neighborhood, drenched in sweat
shaking, so hard. I could barely keep hold of the
handlebars I didn't even bother putting the bike in the garage.
I just abandoned it on the front lawn and bolted, inside locking
the door behind me. The things screams had stopped
somewhere in the woods, but I could still hear them in my
head. Echoing long after I was safe in
bed. That night, I stared at the
ceiling. The dark shapes of the trees
outside my window. Casting Shadows the twisted and
shifted. Like the thing I saw on the
ridge, The trails of the Great Smoky Mountains would never feel
the same again. I didn't sleep much after that
night. The shadows in my room didn't
seem to stay still and every Creak of the house sounded like
something climbing the walls outside.
By morning, I had convinced myself that what happened
couldn't be real. Maybe I would imagine the whole
thing, Moonlight fatigue, adrenaline, whatever.
But deep down, I knew I hadn't. By the time, the sun came up, I
decided to report it. I didn't even know what it was,
but it felt like the right thing to do.
Carl, one of the senior Park Rangers had always been decent
to me, a bit of a loud mouth. Sure.
But he seemed like the type who'd at least listen.
The ranger station fell too normal.
When I walked in like the world outside wasn't hiding something.
Monstrous Carl, was there leaning back in his chair?
A styrofoam coffee cup in one hand and a clipboard in the
other. He looked up as I came in,
flashing me, his usual grin. Mourning Ryan.
He said, what's got you up so early deer wander into your yard
again? I didn't know how to start, so I
just blurted it out. Something attacked me in the
park last night. Carl raised an eyebrow sitting
up a little straighter. Attacked you, you okay.
Yeah, I'm fine. But it wasn't an animal.
At least I don't think it was. I hesitated feeling ridiculous.
As soon as the words left my mouth.
It was big like really big and it was throwing rocks screaming
too. Carl's grin widened, but not in
a friendly way. Wait wait.
Wait, you're telling me Bigfoot's out there, chucking
rocks at people now. I stiffened.
I'm not saying it was Bigfoot, Carl.
I'm just saying it wasn't normal it.
Chased me halfway to Blackwater Creek.
He leaned back again. Chuckling all right, Ryan.
Look, I'll keep an eye out for your rock throwing giant, but
maybe you just saw a bear or something they can get loud if
you surprise them. It wasn't a bear.
I snapped louder than I meant to Bears.
Don't scream like that and they don't throw rocks.
This thing it was trying to hurt me.
Carl held up his hands and mock surrender, okay?
Okay, don't bite my head off if I see Bigfoot or whoever out
there, I'll let you know. I wanted to argue, but what was
the point? I left the station feeling worse
than before. Carl's laughter.
Followed me out the door, ringing in my ears, a week
passed and I avoided the park. I told myself it was because I
was busy, but the truth was, I couldn't bring myself to go
back. Every time I thought about the
trails, my chest tightened and I heard that scream all over
again. Then one morning, as I was
finishing breakfast, a familiar truck pulled into my driveway.
Carl climbed out, but his usual Swagger was gone.
He looked. Off. his face was pale and his
usual grin had been replaced with a tight uneasy line Ryan,
he called waving me over. You got a minute?
I stepped outside heart already racing.
What's going on? Get in.
He said nodding toward the truck.
I need to show you something. I hesitated show me what?
Carl sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
Look, I owe you an apology just trust me.
All right, you'll understand when we get there.
Against my better judgment. I got in the truck ride was
silent except for the hum of the tires on the road.
Carl didn't say a word just gripped.
The steering wheel. Like it might fly out of his
hands. We didn't head toward the park,
in Stead. We went into town stopping in
front of the Sheriff's Office. Carl turned to me before I could
ask anything. Before we go in, I need you to
hear this. Last night, a couple was camping
out near Blackwater Creek. Around midnight.
They call the cops saying something was attacking them
rocks. Branches screaming the works.
My stomach dropped. The sheriff's department called
us into helped Carl continued when we got out there, we heard
it too Rocks, coming down from the Ridge, and that scream.
Jesus. Ryan, I've never heard anything
like it. I thought about what you told me
last week and I had to check it out.
I stared at him, unable to speak.
We went up the hill guns. Drawn Carl said his voice
quieter now, and we found him him.
I asked my throat. Dry Carl, nodded not Bigfoot,
not some monster, a man naked covered in mud and blood
screaming like a damn Banshee. He charged at us and it took
three officers to bring him down.
Turns out he escaped from the veterans facility across the
lake PTSD. Severe psychosis.
He thought he was in a war zone and we were the enemy.
I leaned back in the seat, my head spinning.
He? He is the one who chased me.
Most likely, Carl said. Your lucky Ryan, the guys strong
as hell. And he's been living out there
for weeks. We found traps pits line with
sharpened sticks hidden under brush.
If you'd gone off the trail. He didn't finish the sentence,
but he didn't need to. Inside the sheriff's office,
they took my statement asking me to describe what I had seen that
night. The details Spilled Out In
Pieces, but they nodded like it all fit on the drive home.
Carl tried to make small talk, but I barely listened.
My mind was stuck on the ridge, on the rocks in the scream.
I couldn't stop picturing the man charging toward me thinking
I was something he needed to kill. as Carl dropped me off, he
said, Again Ryan, I'm sorry I didn't believe you will make
sure he doesn't get out again. I nodded but I didn't say
anything words wouldn't make it go away.
That night as I locked every door and window.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something else was still
out there. Hiding in the shadows of the
Smoky Mountains, a week passed, but the nightmares didn't Every
time I closed my eyes, I saw him, his mud covered body
charging down the hill. The scream that didn't sound
human, the boulder smashing into the creek.
I couldn't sleep. I couldn't focus.
And every time I thought about biking the trails again, my legs
felt like jelly. I wanted to believe it was over
the man. The thing had been caught locked
up in some facility where he couldn't hurt anyone, but the
woods didn't feel safe anymore. It was like the Shadows, there
had swallowed, the part of me that loved the Smoky Mountains.
A few days later, I got a call. It was Carl Ryan, he said his
voice softer than I'd ever heard it.
I hate to ask but can you come down to the ranger station, the
sheriff's office needs you to clarify a few things from your
statement? I didn't want to go.
Hell, I didn't want to think about that night again.
But something in Carl's tone, something shaken, made me agree.
When I got to the station, Carl met me outside, he looked worse
than before, like he hadn't slept in days.
His usual bravado was gone replaced with a nervous energy
that made him jumpy. He didn't say much as he led me
inside. The sheriff was there, along
with a couple of deputies. They asked me to go over my
account of that night, every detail, every sound every
moment. I told them what, I remembered,
the Rocks, the figure on the ridge, the scream, The Chase,
They nodded taking notes but their eyes kept darting to each
other. Like there was something they
were not saying when I finished, one of the deputies asked,
You're sure he didn't speak, didn't say anything
intelligible. no, I said it was just screaming like like he
wasn't human. The deputy glanced at the
sheriff who gave him a sharp. Look, Carl cleared his throat,
breaking the tension. Thanks Ryan.
That's all we needed. You're free to go.
I stood to leave, but something about the way.
Carl was looking at me like he wanted to say more, but couldn't
made me pause. Is there something you're not
telling me? The room went quiet.
The sheriff looked at Carl, then back at me.
It's nothing you need to worry about.
He said, The man's been transferred to a secure
facility, you're safe. Safe.
The word felt Hollow like they didn't even believe it
themselves. On my way out, Carl followed me
to the parking lot. Ryan, he said, lowering his
voice. I didn't want to say this in
there, but we've been getting reports strange ones.
Strange, how I asked my stomach tightening?
Other people have heard it, he said, the scream a few hikers,
some campers near the lake. And last night, one of our trail
cameras picked up movement in the same area where you were
attacked. My chest tightened its him, he
escaped. No Carl said quickly, the man's
accounted for, he's under constant Supervision in a
facility. Two states over, it's not him.
Than, what the hell is it? I asked my voice Rising, Carl
glanced around like someone might overhear us.
We don't know. The camera footage was strange,
there was movement, but we couldn't make out what it was
just something large. I stared at him, waiting for him
to say it was a prank that he was messing with me, but his
face stayed serious. I thought you should know, he
said, just, Keep your guard up, okay.
That night, I locked every door and window.
Again, double checking each one but it didn't feel like enough.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something, or someone was
out there. Watching waiting around
midnight. I heard it fainted at first, but
unmistakable, the scream that raw guttural sound that made
every hair on my body stand on end.
It wasn't closed. Not yet.
But it was there drifting through the woods like a
warning. I froze, my heart hammering in
my chest, it didn't make sense. The man was locked up.
He couldn't be here unless it wasn't him.
The scream came again, louder, this time closer, I grabbed a
flash light and stepped onto my porch.
My hands shaking. So badly the beam wobbled across
the yard, the woods loomed, just beyond the clearing dark and
impenetrable, I scan the trees half expecting to see that
hulking figure charging toward me again.
But there was nothing, just the Shadows stretching and shifting
in the Wind. The scream echoed one last time.
So close. It felt like it was right behind
me. I spun around the flashlight
darting across the yard but there was nothing there.
I didn't sleep that night. And the next morning, I called
Carl. Ryan.
He said his voice tight. I heard it too.
What the hell is it? Carl, I asked if it's not him,
then what? There was a long pause before he
answered, I don't know, he said finally but I think we both know
this isn't over. And he was right.
The scream, came again, ripping through the still night, like a
blade louder this time. Closer, Carl.
And I exchanged a look, neither of us needing to say a word.
We were already moving running down the trail as fast as we
could. Our flash lights, bobbing wildly
with each step this way Carl shouted pointing toward the
ridge. I followed my legs burning as
the incline steeping. Behind us, the sound of
something crashing, through the underbrush, grew louder.
Closer, whatever it was it wasn't human.
It couldn't be I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw the
shadow massive and unrelenting tearing through the trees like
they were nothing. The beam of my flashlight,
caught a glimpse of it, mud caked skin, tangled hair and
eyes that gleamed with something, Primal something
wrong. My foot snagged on a root and I
went down hard. My flashlight skittering across
the trail, Carl. Skidded to a stop doubling back
to pull me up. Get up, he hissed.
Yanking me to my feet, I grabbed the flash light and stumbled
forward my lungs heaving, as the screams echoed behind us closer
with every step. The ridge ahead was Steep and
uneven, but Carl led the way pushing us higher and higher.
Where are we going? I guessed my chest on fire old
fire tower. He shouted over his shoulder.
We can lock ourselves in. I didn't have time to argue the
crashing behind us. Had turned into a roar like the
forest itself was being ripped apart.
We scrambled up the rocky incline slipping and sliding but
never stopping. Finally, the Fire Tower came
into view. It skeletal frame Rising against
the night sky like a lifeline. The stairs were rusted and worn,
but they held as Carl bolted up them.
Taking two at a time, I was right behind him.
My flashlight swinging wildly in one hand.
As I grip, the railing with the other We reached the top and
threw open the metal hatch. Slamming, it shut behind us.
Carl, slid, the heavy iron, bolt into place his hands trembling
as he locked us. In The tower swayed slightly in
the wind, The Creeks of its beams mixing with our ragged
breaths. For a moment.
There was silents just the two of us, staring at each other
trying to catch our breath. Then we heard it.
The sound of something climbing the stairs.
Slow. Deliberate, the tower shook with
each step at took the old metal groaning.
Under the weight Karl fumbled with his belt.
Pulling out his side arm and aiming at the hatch.
I grabbed the only thing I could find an old metal wrench heavy
and rusted, Cumming. Carl whispered his voice tight,
get ready. The footsteps stopped just below
the hatch. We held our breath every second
stretching into an eternity. Then the hatch rattled, the
metal groaning under the strain of something pulling at it.
Stay back Carl shouted. His gun trained on the hatch.
But the thing on the other side didn't stop.
The bolts. Holding the hatch in place began
to bend screeching, as the creature pulled harder and
harder. Carl fired the deafening crack
of The Gunshot echoed through the tower.
And for a moment, the rattling stopped.
I dared to hope that it was over then came the scream Louder Than
Ever. So piercing it felt like my
skull was splitting, the hatch exploded inward the creature,
ripping it clean off its hinges, Carl fired again, the muzzle
flash, Illuminating, the things face for a split.
Second mud caked skin stretched tit over sharp bones, eyes, wild
and gleaming it lunge. Carl emptied his clip each shot,
forcing the thing back and inch, but it didn't stop.
I swung the wrench with everything.
I had the impact jarring my arms, as it connected with the
creatures shoulder. It roared, swiping at me with a
hand that felled more like claws, Ryan go, Carl shouted,
shoving me toward the ladder on the other side of the platform.
Know, I screamed grabbing for him, but he pushed me harder.
Now, he roared turning back to face the creature.
His empty gun raised like a club.
I hesitated for a split second, then climbed over the edge and
started down the ladder. The tower shook violently as the
struggle continued above me. I was halfway down when I heard
Carl scream a sound. I'll never forget.
Tears, blurred my vision, but I kept climbing my hands slipping
on the rungs. When I hit the ground, I ran the
forest around me a blur. I didn't stop didn't look back
until I burst into the clearing. Where Carl's truck was parked.
The keys were still in the ignition.
I jumped in slamming, the door behind me and gunned the engine.
The headlights cut through the darkness and for a split second.
I thought I saw movement at the edge of the woods, but I didn't
wait to find out. I Drove all night, not stopping
until I was miles away from the mountains.
They found Carl's body the next day or what was left of it.
The fire tower was in ruins the metal twisted and shattered like
a child's toy. No one could explain it, not the
Rangers, not the sheriff, not anyone.
I haven't gone back there since I can't.
Every time I close my eyes, I see that thing on the ridge
here, at screams in the dark. And I know, deep down that
whatever it was. It's still out there waiting.
Waiting for someone like me to make the mistake of coming back.
The trail felt different that night, I couldn't put my finger
on it, but something about the way, the air clung to my skin,
thick and damp made me pause as I stepped onto the dirt path.
I had been down to the creek dozens of times before it was my
spot, you know, a little escape from everything tucked just far
enough into the woods that no one bothered you but tonight it
felt like the trees were leaning in a little too close.
Like they were trying to listen. I shook it off, it was just
another late night. I told everyone to meet me at
the creek for a fire and I figured I'd get there, early,
set things up, and surprise them with everything ready to go.
I had my bag slung over, one shoulder, stuffed with firewood,
a lighter, my Lantern, and a blanket to sit on.
It wasn't much, but I didn't need much.
The place had its own kind of magic quiet peaceful.
Just the sound of the water rushing over the rocks.
The path down was dimly lit, as usual.
Two old lampposts lined the trail, one halfway down and one
at the base of the creek where the dirt turned to sand.
Their light was faint, barely cutting through the trees, but I
liked that. It made everything feel more
secluded. The first Lamppost flickered.
As I walked past it, the bulb, buzzing faintly I laughed to
myself. Classic horror movie Vibes.
I muttered. My voice sounding too loud in
the silence. When I reached the clearing by
the creek, I dropped my bag and took a deep breath.
The smell of the water and pine was sharp earthy.
It was nice. I set up my Lantern on a rock
and flicked it on its warm light spilling over the sand, then I
started digging the fire pit. Using a small camping shovel to
scrape out a shallow Circle. The sound of the shovel cutting
through, the sand was rhythmic almost calming.
Until I heard the splash. It wasn't closed.
Not at first. It sounded like it came from
farther, Downstream allowed deliberate plonk, that cut
through the quiet, like a gunshot.
I froze, the shovel gripped tight in my hands and turn my
head toward the sound. My Lantern didn't reach that far
and all I could see was the glint of the creek under the
sliver of moonlight. Just the water I said under my
breath, trying to convince myself.
Maybe a fish or a branch fell in.
I went back to digging but I couldn't shake the unease.
Creeping up my spine. A few minutes later another
Splash this one was closer louder like something heavy
being thrown into the water. My hands started to sweat.
I stood up, holding the shovel like some kind of makeshift
weapon and scan the creek. Again, the lantern flickered for
just a second and my heart skipped.
I swung the beam toward the trees lining the water, but
there was nothing. Just Shadows shifting in the
breeze. Hello.
My voice cracked and I hated how scared I sounded.
Silence answered me, thick and heavy.
I laughed nervously more to myself than anyone else.
Okay. Calm down Alex.
It's just water. I went back to the pit but my
hands were shaking. Now every scrape of the shovel
felt louder, like it was bouncing off the trees and
echoing back at me. And then I heard it the
rustling. It wasn't loud.
Just a soft crunch of leaves, but it was unmistakable, It came
from across the creek, just passed where the bridge arched
over the water. I snatched the Lantern and swung
it toward the sound, my pulse pounding, in my ears.
The light swept over the trees catching on the glint of water
but there was nothing. Maybe it's a deer I whispered
but the words didn't even convinced me.
It didn't sound like an animal. It sounded deliberate like
someone was stepping carefully trying not to make too much
noise, the rustling stopped but my heart didn't, I stayed frozen
holding the lantern up like a shield scanning the Shadows.
Just when I started to think I was imagining things.
I saw it a flash of pale skin. It was quick just for a second
but it was there. Something.
Or someone moved in the trees, hunched low and still my stomach
dropped, my throat, felt dry, I stayed perfectly.
Still the lantern trembling in my hand.
Hey, I called out my voice shaking, who's there?
No response, the figure didn't move but I knew it was watching
me. I could feel it the weight of
its gaze pressing down on me. My skin crawled, I didn't wait
for a second sighting. I turned back to my bag.
Stuffing the shovel and blanket in with fumbling hands.
Whatever was out there, I wasn't about to stick around and find
out. As I grabbed my things and
started toward the trail, I heard it again.
The rustling closer this time my breath hitched, and I made the
mistake of looking back. Something was standing just
beyond the creek. Barely visible in the lanterns
glow. It was a man crouched low.
His pale naked skin. Shining faintly He didn't move,
didn't make a sound. But his head tilted, like he was
curious. I ran, I didn't think I didn't
breathe, I just ran up the narrow Trail passed.
The first lamp post, the light flickering wildly as I passed.
My bag thudded against my back and every step felt too loud,
too slow. I could hear the crunch of
leaves behind me faster. Now closer.
And then came the laugh, low guttural, like something
scraping against Stone. It wasn't a sound, a person
should make it was wrong. I didn't look back.
I couldn't my legs burned. As I ran harder, the second Lamp
Post. Finally coming into view, my car
was just beyond it parked at the trailhead.
I could make it I had to but the laugh followed me growing louder
echoing in my ears like it was everywhere at once.
I don't think I've ever run that hard in my life.
My lungs were burning. My legs felt like they'd been
replaced with lead and my grip on.
The lantern was slipping with every pounding.
Step, the trail felt endless, the trees pressing in, on both
sides. Like they wanted to swallow me
whole and behind me, I could hear it.
Him. I didn't dare look back, but I
could hear the crunch of leaves and twigs.
The steady rhythm of footsteps that were my own.
He wasn't sprinting, not yet. He didn't have to, he was just
behind me close enough that I could hear the way his breathing
dragged. Like, it took effort to keep up
with me. My foot slipped on a patch of
loose dirt and I stumbled nearly falling.
I caught myself on a low-hanging brand Branch.
The rough bark? Scraping my palm, my Lantern,
swung wildly in my hand. It's beam cutting through the
dark and Jagged arcs. For a second, I thought about
turning it off. Thought, maybe, just maybe the
dark, would swallow me up. Hide me from him, but then I
remembered his eyes. The way they gleamed in the dim
light, how they locked onto me like a predator sizing up its
prey know, I needed the light. I needed to see the first
Lamppost was up ahead, it's faint, yellow glow, barely
visible through the thick trees. It felt like a beacon, like
safety was just a few yards away.
I forced my legs to move faster pushing through the pain in my
thighs. I reached the Lamppost and
collapsed against it panting, the metal Cold against my back,
the trail ahead stretched Into Darkness, but at least the dim
light, gave me a moment to catch my breath, I turned the lantern
toward the trail behind me. The beam bouncing as my hands
Shook. And that's when I saw him, he
was crouched at the edge of the light, his body to the ground
pale and glistening. His limbs moved wrong.
Like he didn't know how to use them properly.
His head tilted to one side and his mouth.
God his mouth stretched into a grin.
So white, it looked like his face would split in half.
He didn't blink. For a second.
We just stared at each other me gasping for air clutching my
Lantern like it could save me him motionless except for the
subtle rise and fall of his chest.
Why are you doing this? I yelled my voice breaking.
It came out too loud, too desperate.
He didn't answer instead, he leaned forward his hands
pressing into the dirt and then he crawled into the light.
The way he moved it wasn't human his knees and elbows bent at odd
angles, his limbs jerking, like a marionette on invisible
strings. Every movement made this faint,
clicking sound like his joints were grinding against each
other. I didn't wait for him to get
closer. I bolted again, sprinting toward
the second Lamppost, my legs screamed in protest and my
vision blurred, but the thought of him catching me was enough to
drown out the pain behind me, his movements grew louder
faster. It wasn't just footsteps
anymore. It was the wet slap of bare feet
on the dirt, the sound of something too large moving too
quickly. The second lamp post came in to
view its gloss steady and Unbroken.
My heart left at the sight of it, but then I felled it, the
sharp icy prickle of being watched, I chance to glance over
my shoulder. He wasn't crawling anymore, he
was standing. Now, running on two legs, his
movements were jerky unnatural but he was fast too fast and his
grin had in faltered, if anything it had grown wider.
Stop. I screamed my voice hoarse.
What do you want? He didn't stop, he didn't
answer, he just kept running, his eyes locked on mine, like I
was the only thing that mattered in the world.
I made it to the second lamp post and skidded to a stop.
Nearly dropping the lantern. My chest heaved.
As I tried to catch my breath, my head spinning, the light of
me, buzzed faintly casting a sickly yellow glow over the
trail. For a moment.
I thought he'd stop at the edge of the light again like he had
before. But this time, he didn't have a
Tate. He stepped into the globe, his
skin almost luminescent under the Lamplight.
He wasn't smiling anymore. His face had gone slack, his
eyes dark and empty. But the way he stared at me, it
was like he was peeling me apart layer by layer and I couldn't
move. He took a step forward and I
stumbled back tripping over my own feet, my Lantern fell to the
ground. Its beam slicing across the
trail, I scrambled to pick it up, my fingers, fumbling in the
dirt. When I looked up again, he was
crouched over me just Out Of Reach his breath hot and rancid
why. I whispered tears streaming down
my face. He leaned closer his head
tilting. Again, like he was trying to
understand me. And then, for the first time he
spoke It wasn't a word, it was a sound low guttural and inhuman.
A sound that crawled into my ears and lodged itself in my
brain, making my skull feel like it was going to split open.
I screamed, I don't even remember standing up, but I must
have because the next thing I knew I was running again.
Running toward the parking lot, the dim glow of the final
Lamppost. Guiding me like a Lifeline, I
didn't look back. I couldn't all I could hear was
the pounding of his feet. The low growl that seemed to
Echo all around me and the buzzing of The lampposts Fading
Into the distance. The parking lot was just ahead
my car A dark silhouette against the trees.
If I could just get there, if I could just make it inside, I'd
be safe. But the growl behind me was
growing louder. And I wasn't sure I'd make it
the parking lot was just ahead, but it felt like miles away my
legs burned, every step a battle between my will to survive and
the growing exhaustion that dragged at my body.
The Lamppost above the trailhead, flickered faintly and
my car sat just beyond it. Its silhouette bathed in Weak
moonlight. My keys were in my pocket, I
just had to get there. Behind me, the sound of bare
feet, pounding against the dirt grew louder.
Faster. He was closing in.
I risked one glance over my shoulder and instantly regretted
it. He was sprinting.
Now his body jerking with every step like a puppet yanked Along
by invisible strings. His mouth was open wide and
unnatural and his eyes They were not just watching me, they were
hungry a branch caught up at my arm, as I turned back to the
trail tearing into my skin, but I didn't feel it.
My focus was on the car on safety on, not dying here.
The parking lot came in to view gravel crunching under my feet,
as I stumbled onto the lot. My car was right there, just a
few steps away. I reached into my pocket for my
keys but my fingers were shaking too much to grab.
Hold of them. Come on, come on.
I muttered Panic Rising as I fumbled my foot slipped on loose
gravel and I nearly fell the keys sliding out of my pocket
and onto the ground with a metallic clink.
No, I gasped dropping to my knees and frantically sweeping
my hand across the gravel. I could hear him now, the wet
slap of his feet on the trail, the guttural growl that had
haunted me since the creek. I found the keys snatched them
up. my heart raced, as I scrambled to my feet lunging,
for the driver's side door, the key fob shook in my hand and it
took me three tries to hit the unlock button.
Behind me, I heard the sound of his feet, hitting the gravel.
I threw the door open and climbed in slamming.
It shut just as he reached the edge of the parking lot.
The cars interior light flicked on.
And I locked the doors with a trembling hand, For a second,
everything was silent except for my ragged breathing.
He stopped at the edge of the parking lot.
Just be on the glow of the Lamppost.
He stood there his chest heaving, his face slack, but his
eyes focused. He was watching me.
His head tilting slightly as though, trying to decide what to
do next. I fumbled with the key, shoving
it into the ignition. The engineered to life and my
hands gripped. The steering wheel so hard.
My Knuckles turned white. I shifted into reverse my foot
slamming on The Petal as I backed away from him, that's
when he moved. He sprinted toward the car, his
arms flailing unnaturally at his sides.
His face twisting into something that looked like Rage or hunger,
I shifted into drive and flawed it.
Gravel spraying under my tires as I tore out of the lot.
I didn't look back at first I couldn't My eyes were locked on
the road ahead, the Shadows of the trees, rushing past in the
weak glow of my headlights. But something told me to check
the rear view mirror. He was there standing in the
middle of the parking lot framed in the fading light of the
Lamppost. his head tilted again, that same unnatural angle and he
raised one hand like he was waving I didn't stop.
My heart pounded, as I sped down the dark Winding Road, The
Silence of the night broken only by the hum of the engine and the
sound of my own gasping breaths. I drove for what felt like hours
though, it was probably only a few minutes until I reached the
edge of town. Only then did I finally pull
over my hands shaking so badly? I could barely turn the key to
kill the engine. I sat there gripping the
steering wheel staring at the empty road in front of me.
My mind, raced replaying, everything, the splashes, the
footsteps, the way, his eyes had locked onto mine, like I was
prey, I told myself it was over. I was safe but I couldn't stop
looking at the trees lining, the road, their Shadows shifting in
the breeze. When I got home, my friends were
already there sitting on the porch with a six-pack waiting
for me. They laughed when I pulled into
the driveway. Probably ready to tease me for
being late. but when they saw my face their smiles dropped, I
told them everything every detail from the first Splash at
the creek to the moment. I sped out of the parking lot.
They tried to laugh at off at first but I could see the unease
in their eyes. When I told them about the man
the way he moved the way he watched me one of them muttered
something about meth heads or a prank on wrong.
But I need better. The next morning, I called the
police. I expected them to brush it off.
And for the most part they did. And officer came out to meet me
and I took him to the trail. I pointed out where I had seen
the man where I dropped my keys, but there was nothing.
No Footprints, no Disturbed. Gravel it was like he'd never
been there. The officer gave me a
half-hearted promise to keep an eye on the area and left.
But as I turned to leave, I noticed something.
At the edge of the trail. Where the dirt met the gravel,
there was a single pale handprint pressed into the
ground. It wasn't mine.
I didn't go back to the creek after that.
And every time I drive past those woods, I keep my eyes
straight ahead. Pretending I don't see the
shadow standing just inside the trees watching waiting.
I didn't want to stay at Clara's place.
Let me just get that out there right away.
It wasn't Clara. I liked her enough.
But her house. No.
It was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees, so thick
you could barely see the sky. And that was just during the day
at night. Forget it, it wasn't just the
woods either, the whole place gave off this Vibe like it
wanted you to leave. But Clara begged.
Come on Naomi. She'd said practically dragging
me into her mom's car. After school.
You always make me sleep at your place just one night.
I swear, it'll be fun. Fun.
Right. The drive took an hour.
And with every mile, the house has got fewer and farther apart
until there were none, just winding roads, dark trees, and
the occasional, rusted, mailbox, leaning like it had given up on
life. By the time we reached the
property, my stomach was already in knots.
The house or well houses look like something out of a creepy
movie. At the top of the hill was a
giant old. Victorian Farmhouse, all peeling
paint and sagging roof lines. That's where Mr. Carrick, the
landlord lived. Clara told me, he owned the
whole property. Down a steep, gravel driveway,
where two smaller buildings, one on either side of the clearing.
Clara and her mom lived in the one on the left.
A one-room Shack, barely big enough for a bed, On the right
was, her mom's section. Another tiny building with a
kitchenette and a bathroom separated by a curtain, no doors
just clause. Cozy.
Huh. Clara said grinning as we lugged
my bag into her room. She must have seen the look on
my face. Okay.
Yeah, it's a little small but it's nice.
You'll see. Nice.
Sure, if you liked cramped spaces and Furniture older than
dirt half, the room wasn't even hers.
A tall shelf and a divider cut off the back section.
Where Mr. Carrick stored his junk old chairs boxes, whatever.
The only other thing in the room was a massive sliding glass door
that led outside. It was almost floor to ceiling
and it made me feel like I was on display I tried to brush it
off. At least it's not school, right?
I joked forcing a smile. Clara laughed and dropped onto
her bed. Exactly.
Let's just chill tonight. No teachers.
No homework, just us. But I couldn't relax, not
really. There was something about the
way, the woods pressed in how the Shadows seem to cling to the
corners of the room, even with the curtains, open, and that
sliding door, it was like it was begging someone to look in.
The first weird thing happened pretty early, we'd gone over to
Clara's. Mom section to grab snacks, Her
mom wasn't in the room but the bathroom door was closed and we
could hear her humming inside. Mom Clara called out.
Yeah, I'm here. Her mom's voice answered
muffled, but clear. I stepped toward the fridge.
But then I heard it a deep voice Gruff and almost lazy muttered
from outside the window. Yeah, I froze.
What was that? I whispered spinning around, to
look at Clara. Her face had gone pale that she
stammered that wasn't her. We both stared at the tiny
window above the sink. It was dark outside, nothing but
shadows in the faint outline of trees.
Nobody was there. Maybe it was an echo, Clara said
her voice shaking, but she didn't sound like she believed
it, neither did I. We didn't talk about it after
that. She grabbed the snacks.
I grabbed my water bottle and we bolted back to her room.
Like it was no big deal. Except it was a big deal.
I couldn't stop thinking about how close that voice had sounded
too close. By the time night fell, I was a
wreck. Clara was trying to act normal
but I could tell she was on edge too.
Let's watch. Something she said pulling out
her ancient laptop. Something funny.
Yeah, sure. I mumbled pulling my knee up to
my chest. The movie was supposed to help,
but it didn't. The whole time I couldn't stop
glancing at the glass door. We'd locked it.
Thank God. But that didn't help much.
It felt like we were in a fishbowl with nothing, but a
thin pane of glass between us and the pitch black forest.
Every now and then I would see my reflection move and my
stomach would twist like it was someone else.
At some point, I asked Clara about the divider.
Why does Mr? Carrick keep his stuff in here?
Doesn't he have enough space in the big house?
Clara, Shrugged, he's weird like that.
Mom says he likes to keep an eye on everything even his junk.
Great. Just great.
Now, it felt like he was watching us, too.
Clara must have seen the look on my face because she laughed,
relax Naomi. It's fine.
Seriously. There's nothing out there.
I wanted to believe her, I really did, but I couldn't shake
the feeling that we weren't as alone as she thought and then
the footsteps started. The footsteps started out faint.
At first, I told myself it was just the wind or maybe some
animal shuffling through the leaves outside, but then they
got louder more. Deliberate crunch, crunch
crunch. I muted the laptop,
mid-sentence. Cutting off some corny romantic
dialogue. You hear that?
I whispered. Clara froze.
Her eyes darting to the glass door.
It's probably just a possum or something she said, but her
voice cracked at the end, she didn't believe herself.
Neither did I The steps didn't sound like an animal.
They were too steady to Human. Crunch crunch.
I couldn't move my chest. Felt tight.
Like I couldn't get enough air. Clara.
I whispered gripping her arm. It's right outside.
We both sat there Frozen listening as the sound circled
her room. Slow deliberate steps on the dry
brittle leaves. They were moving close to the
back of the building. I glanced at the divider.
That's stupid tall shelf blocking the back section where
the second door was the footsteps stopped for a second.
There was nothing but silence, the kind of Silence that makes
your ears ring. That feels like it's waiting for
something to happen. Then the doorknob rattled.
It wasn't loud. In fact it was the quiet.
Almost Gentle Way at jiggled that made it so much worse.
Like whoever was out there wasn't in a hurry like they had
all the time in the world. Is that door locked?
I whispered my voice barely audible over the sound of my
heartbeat pounding in my ears. Claire's face was pale.
It's stuck. It doesn't open all the way I
think. She thinks great, the rattling
continues slow and deliberate. I could hear the soft scrape of
metal, like they were testing the lock, my throat was dry and
every Instinct in me was screaming to get up and check if
the door was actually secure. But I couldn't move my legs felt
like lead and I was terrified that if I made even the
slightest sound it would draw whoever was out there right to
us, then the rattling stopped. We both stared at the divider,
our breath shallow. For a second.
I thought maybe they'd give an up.
Maybe they'd left. But then I heard it breathing.
Heavy slow, deliberate breathing.
Just on the other side of that door.
Clara clamped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with panic.
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes but I didn't dare let
them fall. All like I could think was that
this person? Whoever they were wasn't just
trying to scare us. They were waiting.
Testing. The breathing stopped.
And after a long agonizing, pause the footsteps started
again. This time they were moving away
from the back door, circling back toward the front of the
room. Toward the glass door.
We need to call someone. I whispered fumbling for my
phone, my hands were shaking so badly.
I nearly dropped it. Clara nodded frantically her
face wet with silent tears. I managed to dial zero zero
zero. The emergency number here and
pressed the phone to my ear. Trying to keep my voice steady
as the operator picked up. Emergency Services.
What's your location? We my voice cracked.
And I tried again Whispering, as quietly as I could, at a
property off Millwood Road. There's someone outside.
They're trying to get in. Clara grabbed my arm and pointed
at the glass door, my heart nearly stopped their pressed
against the glass was a handprint.
It hadn't been there before the smudged, outline of a palm in
five, long fingers, dragged across the dusty surface.
The Operators voice buzzed in my ear but I couldn't focus on what
she was saying. They're still here.
I choked out. Please send someone please.
The operator tried to call me down her voice smoothed and
practiced but I couldn't stop shaking.
She promised to dispatch a unit told us to stay where we were
and not to open any doors or Windows as if that was even an
option. Then the ringing started allowed
shrill piercing ring that made me jump and nearly drop the
phone. It wasn't mine.
It was coming from the old landline in the main house, Mr.
Carrick's phone. We sat in stunned silence as the
ringing echoed through the clearing.
After what felt like forever it stopped.
And we heard Mr. Carrick's. Muffled voice. he was talking to
someone Clara lean closer to me, is he Is he talking to the
police? I don't know, I whispered back,
but deep down I already knew something wasn't right.
Minutes later the heavy stomp of boots echoed outside.
Mr. Carrick silhouette appeared in the Moonlight.
As he marched toward Clara's mom section, he didn't look
concerned. He looked pissed.
We sat Frozen as he banged on the door yelling, something
about wasting his time. A few minutes later, Clara's
mom, shuffled out, groggy and annoyed.
We could hear them arguing through the thin walls but their
voices were muffled drowned out by the sound of blood pounding
in my ears. When Claire's Mom finally came
into the room, she looked annoyed not worried.
What's going on with you two? Why'd you call the cops?
Someone's out there. I blurted pointing at the glass
door. they were at the back door, there are handprints
Clara's mom's side. Rubbing her temples.
It's probably just dirt. She said, dismissively Mr. Eric
poked his head in glaring at us? Like we were the problem, I
didn't see anyone. He said gruffly, don't call the
cops again unless it's a real emergency.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
As he turned to leave, I caught sight of something that made my
stomach drop. There just outside the glass
door or faint footprints, in the dirt.
Not animal tracks, human Footprints.
I didn't say anything. I couldn't.
I just grabbed my phone and texted my mom begging her to
come get me. My mom arrived just before
midnight, I've never felt such a rush of relief as I did seeing
her cars headlights, cut through the suffocating, darkness of the
clearing. I didn't even wait for her to
park properly before I yanked, open the door and scrambled
inside. Clara was right behind me.
Clutching her bag with trembling hands.
Is everything, okay? My mom asked her voice
concerned. But calm, I could tell she
thought we were overreacting two teenage girls letting our
imaginations run. Wild in the middle of the Woods.
No, I whispered glancing back at the property.
Mr. Carrick's shadowy figure stood in one of the windows of
The Farmhouse unmoving watching. Just drive, please.
She didn't argue the gravel crunched under the tires as we
pulled away and I couldn't look back.
I didn't want to see the forest, the glass door or the footprints
that I knew were still outside. The ride home was silent except
for Clara as occasional sniffles.
My mom tried asking questions, what happened?
Why we were so scared but I couldn't bring myself to
explain. Not yet.
Every time I opened my mouth, the memory of the doorknob
rattling, the breathing outside, the handprint on the glass.
It all came flooding back. By the time we reached my house,
it was nearly 1 a.m. Clara, and I curled up on the
couch, the TV flickering in the background but neither of us
could sleep. Every Creak of the house made me
jump, every shadow looked like a figure I can't go back there
clarifly, whispered, her voice shaking ever.
The next morning, I convinced my mom to drop Clara back home.
She didn't want to go alone and honestly, I didn't want her to
either. I figured if I went with her, it
had feel less final less, like we were walking back into the
nightmare. We pulled into the clearing just
as the sun was climbing over the trees casting long pale Shadows
across the ground. In the daylight.
The place didn't seem as scary, but there was still this.
Heaviness in the air. Like the property was holding
its breath waiting for something.
Clara's mom, met us, outside, looking tired and annoyed.
I hope you two are feeling better.
She said barely looking at us. Last night was a lot of fuss
over nothing. Clara and I exchanged a look but
didn't respond. What was the point?
Then her mom said something that made my stomach drop.
Oh, and the wind knocked over the light pole last night.
What Clara asked the pole with the fairy lights and Beads, her
mom explained pointing to the side of her building.
It must have been the storm or something.
It's on the ground now. Clara, and I walked over to the
spot, but the moment I saw the poll, I knew it wasn't the wind,
the poll was thick and heavy bolted into the concrete.
It had been yanked out of the ground entirely the bolts
twisted and broken like they'd been pulled with Brute Force.
The zip ties holding it in place.
Were shredded dangling. Uselessly.
This wasn't the wind. I whispered staring at the
splintered concrete. Clara didn't say anything but
her face had gone pale. On the drive back.
I couldn't stop thinking about it about the handprint, the
breathing, the footsteps. What if it was Mr?
Carrick Clara muttered breaking the silence.
I shook my head. I don't know.
He is creepy. But Iled off, remembering the
voice. We'd heard the first time we
went to her mom's flat, it wasn't Mr. Characters voice, it
was deeper rougher. What if it was your mom's ex?
I asked the thought suddenly hitting me the one you said was
you know, weird Clara Shrugged, but her hands were trembling
Maybe but how would he know where we were or even how to get
here? I didn't have an answer, I
didn't have answers for any of it.
That night back at my house. I lay awake replaying.
Every moment in my head. I kept thinking about the
footprints outside, the glass door, The Voice, by the window,
the way the doorknob rattled so slowly, so deliberately whoever
it was, they knew exactly what they were doing.
They weren't just trying to scare us.
They were testing us. Testing, the locks testing our
nerves and the worst part. I don't think they were done.
I don't know if it was Mr. Carrick or Clara's mom's ex or
some random stranger who stumbled onto the property But I
do know, one thing, whoever it was they were not just watching
us, they were waiting. And if we hadn't left when we
did, I don't think we'd be here to tell the story.
It always felt colder and gutters Halo, even in the middle
of fall when the days were brisk.
But manageable something about that place.
Dug under your skin. Maybe it was the way, the trees
grew so close together their branches, noted like old hands
blocking out every sliver of moonlight, or maybe it was just
the stories. The whispers about people seeing
things in the trees, about the forests swallowing sounds like
it was hungry. Lucas, and I knew better than to
admit. We were scared.
We were 19 in the way that only Teenage idiots can be That
night, as we rolled our bikes out of our buddies basement,
after hours of gaming and bad jokes, Lucas grind and slapped
my shoulder. You good for the shortcut.
He asked he already knew the answer.
I looked down the road toward the Halo completely unlit and
stretched out like an open mouth.
The forest on either side was just there waiting silent a
perfectly good road. Through town was behind us.
Well lit, safe. I shoved my hands deeper into my
hoodie pockets and Shrugged. Yeah.
Saves US, 20 minutes. Big man, Lucas chuckled,
flicking on the headlights strapped to his bike.
It cast a thin narrow beam down the center of the road, cutting
through the dark, just enough to make it worse.
I turned on mine, too, and we set off into the trees.
The thing about the Halo is that it doesn't start scary.
The first 100 meters are fine. Normally, even the roads
cracked, but paved, and if you stayed dead center, you can
pretend the Shadows are just Shadows.
That nothing's watching you. Lucas wrote.
A little ahead of me. His light bobbing in the
distance as we pedaled in silence.
The only sounds were the grind of our tires against loose
gravel and the occasional Creek of a bike chain.
About halfway in it started the air shifted first.
It was subtle like someone had opened a freezer door and the
cold just bled into everything. My hoodie suddenly wasn't
enough. I pulled it tighter around
myself. My hands.
Stinging on the handlebars I wanted to say something crack a
joke about how maybe we were imagining it, but then I
realized how quiet it had gotten.
No, wind no rustling leaves, no bugs.
Lucas must have noticed it too because he glanced over his
shoulder and called back creepy, huh?
His voice, sounded too loud. Like it didn't belong there.
Yeah, I muttered. I picked up speed.
Trying to close the space between us Then we saw the tree.
Lucas's bike, light caught it first a thick gnarled trunk
blocking the road surrounded by a mess of dead branches.
It looked like it had been ripped out of the ground and
dropped their roots and all, but something about it felt wrong
too clean to deliberate. Like someone had put it there,
Are you kidding me? Lucas grumbled.
As he skidded to a stop. He swung his leg off the bike
and stomped up to it kicking a branch like it was the trees
fault for being there. Some kids messing around.
That's what this is. I stopped just behind him.
My light flickering, across the bark.
It didn't look fresh. The wood was old brittle
crumbling, where Lucas had kicked it like it had been dead
for ages. How did even fall?
I asked hearing my voice. Shake a little There's no wind
nothing. Lucas turned to look at me, he
didn't say anything but I could tell he was thinking the same
thing then as if to break the tension he forced to laugh and
waved me forward. Come on, help me.
We'll lift the bikes over. Reluctantly.
I followed my Palms scraped against the rough bark as I
hoisted, my bike over the tangle of roots and branches.
It wasn't heavy but every second I stood there, I felt more
exposed like the forest was getting closer.
The air smelled wrong too. Like something burning faint,
but sharp enough to make me wrinkle my nose.
Do you smell that? I asked as Lucas hauled his bike
over. Probably just some asshole
camping nearby. He didn't sound convinced.
We got back on our bikes and pedaled harder moving toward the
bridge. I could see it up ahead.
Now the incline that led to the narrow crumbling overpass, just
before the bridge started, something flickered to the left
light, a fire stop. Lucas said suddenly his voice
low, I nearly ran into him again as he slowed to a crawl.
Our lights barely cutting through the darkness.
There it was a small fire carefully.
Built just off the road where the path curved.
It wasn't big, maybe the size of a campfire but it burned steady.
Something about it. Felt wrong, controlled.
That's when we saw them. At first, I thought it was just
Shadows, but then Lucas's light, hit them figures. 8, maybe more
standing behind the fire. In a loose half circle.
They wore long white robes that reached the ground, the fabric
heavy and stained dark at the hems, like they'd been dragging
it through mud. Their faces were covered by
masses wooden masks, rough and handmade like someone had hacked
them out of trees, and carved them into phases.
Hollow eyes. Jagged mouths.
One of the masks look too smooth like a child's face with no
features at all. They didn't move.
Lucas and I froze for a second. It felt like time.
Stopped completely like, we'd wandered into something.
We were never supposed to see my chest felt tight.
My lungs refusing to pull are the figures, just stood there,
still a stone. The firelight flickering off
their robes. Then one of them stepped
forward, not like a normal step. It was jerky unnatural like its
body was figuring out how to move.
The Mask tilted toward us Hollow eyes, fixed in our direction.
Another figure twitched, and I swore I heard something a dry,
clicking sound like Teeth gnashing together.
Go Lucas whispered I couldn't move.
My hands were frozen on the handlebars.
My feet rooted to the petals. I stared at the figure as it
took another step faster, this time, the other shifting behind
it. Lucas's voice cracked as he
screamed go. The spell broke, we turned our
bikes so fast. I nearly fell over the tires,
slipping on loose gravel. I didn't look back.
I couldn't my legs burned as I pedaled the sound of our chains,
rattling and Lucas's ragged breathing, filling, my ears
behind us. The clicking grew louder closer.
We hit the bridge. The incline slowing us down but
I didn't dare stop the path blurred in front of me.
My headlight bouncing as I rode every muscle in my body,
screamed, but I kept going. Luke is just ahead of me until
we crested the bridge and the road started to dip.
Ahead, there was light. Streetlights civilization, we
didn't stop until we hit the pavement of the main road.
The glow of the lamps washing over us, like a flood of safety.
I skidded to a stop and looked back.
The forest was just a wall of black empty and still like
nothing had ever happened. Luke Lucas dropped his bike
hands on his knees as he gasped for air.
He didn't look at me when he spoke.
Did you see their feet? I swallowed, my throat dry.
What? They weren't touching the
ground. He whispered we didn't say
another word the whole way home. We didn't talk about it as we
rode. There wasn't time my lungs
burned as I pushed my bike harder than I ever thought
possible my legs, moving on pure Instinct, like an animal trying
to escape a predator, I didn't look back.
I couldn't But I could hear them.
The footsteps started soft like someone walking through sand,
but they picked up speed, quick, deliberate, thuds, pounding, the
gravel behind us, too. Heavy to be human and mixed in
with it was this other sound faint but undeniable, something
clicking like bone snapping into place.
Lucas was just ahead of me. His light bouncing wildly as he
pedaled don't stop. He yelled his voice raw.
I couldn't answer. My mouth was dry.
My throat of Fistful of sand. All I could think about was the
fire, The Masks, the way that one figure moved, like, it had
to learn how to walk. My mind was racing in Loops,
what were they, what were they doing out there?
But the more I thought about it the louder, those footsteps
seemed to get We hit the tree line where the bridge began the
Steep incline rising in front of us like some cruel obstacle. my
bike wobbled as I force it uphill, the tires slipping on
gravel Lucas grunted ahead of me pushing harder.
I could see the bridge. Now narrow cracked concrete
stretching over the train tracks below.
Then I heard it the scrape, a sound like nails dragging over
Stone. So close behind me.
I almost stopped pedaling my skin crawled, every hair on my
neck Rising like it wanted to peel off my body and run away.
It was right there. I looked back.
I shouldn't have the light from my bike, cut through the dark.
Just far enough to see them, three of them now, gliding down
the road toward us. That's what they were doing.
Gliding. Their feet moved like they were
walking but they weren't touching the ground.
Their robes didn't Billow, didn't move at all as if the air
didn't exist around them. And The Masks, God, the masks.
They were clear now, caught in the edge of my life.
One had a twisted Jagged smile carved into its wood but the
other two were worse. One had no features at all.
Just a flat smooth surface where the face should have been.
And the third, the third had a hollow mouth stretched,
unnaturally wide black and empty inside.
I looked away in petaled harder. My legs screaming, Lucas.
I croaked my voice breaking faster.
I'm trying he yelled back. His bike swerved on the incline,
but he kept going. We crested the bridge together
and for one terrifying, second. I felt like my body was about to
give out my lungs. Were on fire, my legs trembling,
but the sound was still behind us.
The clicking the scraping. And then I heard something
worse. A laugh.
It started low almost inaudible but it grew louder spreading
out. Behind us like fog.
It wasn't a human laugh. It was ragged choked like
someone trying to force the sound out of a throat that
didn't work anymore. The noise clawed its way into my
brain and I swear, I could feel it vibrating in my bones.
Lucas heard it too. He let out this strangled,
panicked noise, half a yell half a sob.
I couldn't look at him, I couldn't stop.
We were barreling down the other side of the bridge.
Now, the roads sloping into a straight stretch that led toward
the blockade. We'd climbed earlier And the
footsteps were still there. Still chasing us.
The blockade appeared suddenly in the beam of Lucas's light.
He skidded to a stop so fast. I nearly slammed into him.
The tree the damn tree. He shouted his voice cracking.
It was still there. The gnarled mess of branches
blocking the road just as deliberate as before we have to
climb it. I choked out already jumping off
my bike. We didn't have time to think.
Luke Lucas dropped his bike in scrambled forward.
Hauling himself up the dead, Roots, his hands slipping on the
dry wood. I shoved my bike to the ground
and followed the air around us feeling thick.
Like the forest was closing in. And then I heard it the crunch
of gravel right behind me. I looked down in the thin cold
light of my bike. I saw a hand reaching for me
from the darkness. It wasn't a hand though.
Not really the fingers were too long too stiff, the skin
stretched gray and tight like it had been left out in the sun for
weeks. I scrambled up my Palms,
scraping against the wood, something cold and sharp
grazing. My ankle, as I pulled myself
over the top. Lucas was already on the other
side. His face pale and slick with
sweat move. He shouted grabbing my arm and
dragging me down. I stumbled and fell to my knees
on the gravel panting so hard. I thought I'd pass out but I
didn't stop. We ran the road stretched ahead
of us, like an endless tunnel but I could see it.
Now, the faint flickering glow of the streetlights beyond the
trees. We ran toward it like drowning
men clawing for the surface. My legs felt like they were made
of stone. My vision swimming, but I kept
going and all the while I heard it behind us, The footsteps, the
scraping and the Laughing? The sound.
Followed us to the edge of the forest.
I didn't dare look back even when we burst out onto the main
road and collapsed in the dirt. For a long moment.
We just lay there. Gasping.
Our bodies shaking so hard. I thought we'd Fall Apart.
The light from the street lamps washed over us like salvation.
Lucas was curled on his side, holding his knee, where he'd
scraped it on the tree. I sat up and looked back at the
Halo. It was silent.
Empty. The forest just sat there black
and still like it hadn't. Just tried to kill us.
Lucas LED out a shaky breath and sat up next to me, did you?
He stopped. I turned to him.
What? His face was pale, eyes, wide
and empty. He swallowed hard, his voice.
Barely a whisper, did you see their faces?
I shook my head, my throat too tight to answer, did you see
their feet? He asked trembling they were not
touching the ground. We didn't go back for the bikes.
We didn't go back at all. Sleep didn't come easy that
night. I lay in bed staring at the
ceiling. Every shadow in my room suddenly
too long, too dark. Like it was reaching for me.
Every Creak of the house, felt deliberate the sound of
footsteps, soft and rhythmic echoed.
In my head, even when the room was perfectly silent, I didn't
know what I saw back there. Maybe it was some sick, prank
some weird local cult. Maybe we imagined parts of it
but I couldn't stop replaying it.
The fire. The masks that sound the
clicking and the way they moved, Lucas, is voice wouldn't leave
my head. They were not touching the
ground. By morning, I had convinced
myself. We had to go back.
Not to the forest, never the forest, but we had to, at least
get our bikes. Maybe someone had already stolen
them, but leaving them felt like leaving a loose thread and loose
threads, had a way of pulling everything apart.
Lucas didn't need much convincing when I called.
He sounded like he hadn't slept either.
Daylight's fine. He muttered will be in and out.
We met around noon when the sun was at its highest and peddled
to the Hallows Edge. The road looked so normally in
the daylight, it made me feel stupid.
The forest didn't look hungry or watching just trees and leaves
and dirt, Lucas grunted. As we slowed down glancing over
at me, See no big deal. Yeah, I said forcing a smile
that didn't reach my chest. We walked our bikes into the
hollow together. The forest still seemed quiet
unnerving, so, but it didn't have that weight pressing down
on us. I wanted to believe it was
nothing. A trick of light, our brain,
spooked by shadows and stupid stories.
But when we reached the spot where the tree had been, we
stopped dead. The blockade was gone.
The road was clear. Not a single Branch, not a hint
of dust. The forest floor on either side,
looked undisturbed like nothing had ever been dragged.
There. Someone must have moved it.
Luke Lucas mumbled though. He didn't sound sure.
Yeah, I said not believing myself, either, but our bikes
were there, the spot where we dropped them was empty.
Like, we'd imagine leaving them behind in the first place.
I felt a chill crawl up my spine, the sun suddenly feeling
thin and distant. I kicked at the gravel, my voice
on steady Maybe they rolled into the ditch.
We split up checking the edges of the road, but there was
nothing. No bikes.
No tire tracks. Just dry dirt and leaves.
I was starting to feel it again. That sinking pressure in my
chest, the weight of the forest around us.
My fingers twitched nervously, as I scan the tree line, my
throat tight, that's when Lucas yelled here, I turned to find
him crouching at the edge of the path, where the underbrush
thinned out into a clearing. He pointed down into the grass
his face pale there. They were our bikes.
Or what was left of them, they were half hidden in The Tall
Weeds mangled and bent like someone or something had grabbed
them and twisted them apart. The tires were flat.
The spokes bent in every direction.
My seat was slashed cleaned through.
Like, it had been torn open with a knife.
Lucas stepped closer pointing at the handlebars.
Do you see that? He whispered, I leaned in and
froze there were marks on the metal.
Long scorched fingerprints. Burned into the surface.
Like someone with searing Hot Hands had gripped, it my mouth
went dry and I stumbled back heart pounding in my ears.
Let's go, I muttered Lucas didn't argue.
He took one last look at the bike before backing away his
face pale as milk. We left them there and made our
way out of the forest walking fast.
Neither of us saying a word I could feel it again.
The forest watching us. The silence pressing against my
ears growing louder and louder until I was sure I could hear
something else underneath it. Breathing.
Just barely there as though it was keeping Pace with us when we
stepped out of the Halo and back onto the open road.
I finally let out a shaky breath.
I didn't realize I had been holding.
I turned to Lucas that's it. I'm done.
I'm never going back. He didn't answer.
He just stared Straight Ahead. Jaw.
Clenched eyes distant. That night Lucas called me.
I answered on the second ring already knowing it wouldn't be
good. Come over, he said, His voice
was low tight. Like he was trying not to shake.
I found something. What?
I asked my chest tightening just come over it.
Took me less than five minutes to get there.
Lucas met me at the edge of his family's property.
Flashlight in hand leading me toward the backfield. it was
getting dark too dark and my stomach knotted as we walked
Than he pointed the bikes. They were their mangled just
like before dumped in The Tall, Grass at the edge of the woods,
the same Woods, the same Halo. How I whispered, I don't know.
Lucas said his voice shaking. I don't he stopped suddenly and
aimed the flashlight at the ground.
Just in front of the bikes pressed into the dirt were
footprints. Long narrow bare feet.
Only, they were not normal feet, the toes were too long to spinly
like something skeletal. Worse.
There were two, many neither of us.
Moved. Neither of us, breathed.
The silence stretched pulling Tighter and Tighter until it
felt like it was squeezing me. Then I heard it.
The sound of gravel soft. Deliberate steps coming from the
trees? Go, Lucas whispered.
I turned already running. We didn't stop until we were
back at his house. The doors locked, the windows
closed. My heart's slammed in my chest.
As I sank onto the floor, my hands shaking so hard.
I couldn't hold the glass of water.
Lucas brought me. I didn't sleep that night, I lay
awake staring at the window listening for sounds.
I hope were there but sometime after three I heard it tap tap,
tap tap. Soft rhythmic against the glass.
I didn't look I couldn't I pulled the blanket over my head.
Shaking my breath hitching in my throat but I felt it that heavy
watching presence just beyond the thin pane of glass.
By morning, it was gone. We never spoke about the Halo
again, Lucas and I stopped hanging out late at night and I
avoided that road like, it was cursed, but even now years
later, I still feel it. Sometimes that presence watching
from the edge of the dark. And every so often when the
house is quiet. I hear it again tap, tap, tap
tap, It was supposed to be a quiet day.
A couple of hours and a forgotten corner of the Welsh
Countryside. Just me my camera and the kind
of light, you only get in afternoons.
Gold seeping through Twisted. Branches casting Shadows.
That look almost alive. I'd found the Grove by accident
a week ago, an ancient cops of Oaks that bent and nodded into
each other like skeletons, Frozen, mid wrestle.
Perfect for the kind of eerie shots.
I loved. When I pulled up to the clearing
at the forests Edge, I was alone.
Just my car, my gear and the smell of damper thick in the
air. It felt like stepping into a
pocket of the world. No one had touched in years.
Quiet. Still, I liked it that way.
I had just finished setting up my tripod when I heard the
engine a low groaning whom that echoed through the trees.
Like it didn't belong there. I turned and saw it a rusted
white van rattling up the dirt road and parking next to my car,
a single figure. Got out a woman.
She was tall taller than me, wearing a red.
Raincoat that looked too bright, too new for the rest of her.
Something was off. Her movements were slow and
stiff. As she walked to the edge of the
forest where she just stood facing the tree line.
Her back to me I tried to ignore her.
People were strange sometimes and I wasn't going to let some
random lady ruin my shoot. The camera clicked and I focused
on the screen framing. The gnarled branches perfectly
as the sun dipped closer to the horizon.
Then she moved. When I glanced up again, she was
on the path. The same path I was standing on.
She didn't look at me at first just shuffled forward.
Dragging her right leg behind her like it was weighted with
something heavy. Every step sent a dull.
Thump, through the dirt. I gripped the tripod, a little
tighter, keeping one hand on the camera. evening, I said, trying
to sound normal She stopped. That's when she turned her head.
Her face was pale. Sunken with dark wet hair.
Plastered to her forehead. Her eyes locked on mine blank.
Glassy like she wasn't seeing me at all her mouth hung, slightly
opened lips, cracked and colorless.
Are you all right? She tilted her head, sharply,
two sharply, and let out a low broken noise from her throat.
Not a word. Not quite a growl just noise.
She stayed like that head, crooked body still.
As if she were trying to process what I was.
Whether I mattered I took a step back then, she lunged not at me,
but at the ground bending over with such Force.
I heard her joints, crack her hands dug into the Earth,
clawing up damp leaves and mud flinging them into the air and
frantic jerky bursts. The noise she made grew louder a
low hum mixed with sharp grunts. Like she was singing to herself
in a language. No one else could understand.
My heartbeat drummed, in my ears.
I slid my camera into my bag slowly.
As if any sudden movement might snap her attention back to me,
okay, I'll just leave you to it. I muttered more to myself than
her. She froze leaves, clung to her
fingers, dirt, smeared up her wrists and she turned her head
again slowly. This time, she was still hunched
over like a broken Mary Annette that didn't know how to stand
upright. Then she shuffled off back into
the trees Dragon. Her leg behind her.
I didn't realize I had been holding my breath, until I heard
my exhale, Shake through the quiet, my hand fumbled for my
phone and I dialed. So Sophie she answered on the
second ring her voice a Lifeline in the Stillness.
Hey, what's up just Stay on the phone with me for a bit.
Yeah, I said keeping my voice low as I stared into the spot
where the woman had disappeared. There's this person here.
I don't know. She's a branch snap.
I whip my head around nothing. Just trees, the kind of trees
were Shadows blur into each other, where everything looks
like. It could be someone watching
You're scaring me. Sophie said what's going on?
Nothing. It's fine.
I'm just being stupid. I kept her on speakerphone, as I
packed up the rest of my gear telling myself.
It was Wildlife, probably dear brushing through the
undergrowth. I heard it again though.
The unmistakable crunch of leaves pacing circling my breath
was short. Now too loud in my ears, I
hurried to the clearing eyes darting between the trees, the
van was gone. Thank God.
I let out a shaky laugh. It's okay.
I said to Sophie, trying to convince us.
Both she is gone. Whoever she was.
I turned onto the main path phone still in hand and that's
when I saw him a man at the forest edge, just standing
there. He was taller than I thought at
first, his shoulders brought beneath the flannel jacket caked
in dried mud. His hair hung and wet strings
around his face. And he looked straight at me
with those same empty eyes and the smile.
Crooked and stretched splitting his face like it didn't belong
there. My blood turned to ice, it was
her the same person, just different now exposed. evening,
he said, The voice was low and cracked like something Dead,
trying to speak through a throat that shouldn't work.
I didn't answer. I just kept walking faster.
Not daring to look back. I could feel his eyes on me.
I could hear him too, the faint thud, thud of his steps on the
dirt matching. Mine, When I reached my car, I
yanked the door open locking myself inside with shaking
hands. My phone was still on.
So Sophie's voice distant tinny. Are you okay Dan?
I looked up. The man was standing on the
road. Now still as Stone staring at me
with that awful grin. He lifted his hand a slow casual
wave. Before taking one deliberate
step back into the woods and then I heard it a humming sound.
Low droning, vibrating in my chest.
It came from everywhere and nowhere, all at once.
And I swear to God, I saw Shadows move between the trees.
I didn't stick around to see what came next.
I threw the car into reverse and got the hell out of there.
Gravel kicking up in my wake. When I passed the Rusted, van
parked just down the road hidden.
Now, half buried in Brush, the back doors, were open, crates
ropes and something dark and crumpled that I refused to look
at directly, I didn't stop driving until I hit the main
road where I finally pulled over and screamed into the steering
wheel. Dan Sophie's, Voice crackled
through the phone. I'm fine.
I lied. It's nothing.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the grin and the humming
and how for just a second. I had seen something else in
that Forest. They weren't watching me.
They were waiting. I didn't sleep.
Not really I must have dozed off for an hour or two but every
Sound Outside. My rental cabin yanked me back
awake, every Creak of a branch. Every Whisper of wind against
the walls. I lay there staring at the
ceiling. The whom I heard in the Grove
still rattling around in my head like a tune.
I couldn't shake. By morning, I had convinced
myself. It wasn't as bad as it seemed.
The man the woman, whoever they were, they were probably just a
lunatic squatting in the woods. I could rationalize it strange.
Yes. But manageable That's what I
told myself. As I drank, the strongest
coffee. I could brew and packed up my
gear. I don't know why I went back.
Part of me felt like I had to maybe I wanted to prove to
myself that there was a simple explanation, something that
would make me feel less insane. Or maybe it was something deeper
something that Grove had sunk into me like a splinter, that
wouldn't work itself out. I told Sophie I was heading
back. She called me an idiot.
She wasn't wrong. The forest looked different in
the morning, lighter less oppressive, the sun breaking
through the canopy and Scattered beams.
It should have made me feel better but it didn't the light
didn't reach deep enough and the silence was still wrong.
The kind of Silence that isn't natural.
The kind that feels listening. I parked at the clearing heart
pounding. As I climbed out, the van was
gone. That helped a little.
My car was the only one there and the woods felt empty.
Still, I gripped. The knife.
I tucked into my coat pocket, as I started down the trail.
The Grove looked untouched, like, nothing had ever happened.
The tripod marks, I'd left in the dirt were gone though.
As if the Earth had smoothed itself out overnight, Fresh
leaves covered the ground. I tried to ignore how they
looked like they'd been placed then I saw it.
A shred of red fabric bright and filthy caught on a thorny
branch. The raincoat I stepped closer,
my breath shallow and noticed something else, a faint line of
disturbed, Earth leading off the path deeper into the woods, a
dragging, mark my stomach Twisted, but I followed it the
deeper, I went the colder, it got the sun barely made it
through the branches. Now and the air felt heavy
pressing against me like it didn't want me there.
The drag marks ended in a small clearing.
I hadn't seen before a Halo ring of stones, half buried in Moss
and Ivy, my throat went dry. There were symbols carved into
the stones faint warn but still their jagged lines that Twisted
into shape. Almost Human, almost the ground
in the center was Disturbed as though someone or something had
been digging. I crouched low in Saw fragments
scattered near the pit. Old bones, small and brittle.
Like they'd been there for years and rope.
A voice in my head screamed. Leave.
I stood up and turned sharply ready to go back.
That's when I saw the footprints mine and others bare feet larger
than mine imprinted in the soft Earth, They circled the
clearing. And then I heard it a sound
barely audible at first rising out of the trees like a low
vibration. A humming not one voice but many
layered on top of each other deep and steady like an old
chant. I froze, my eyes scanned, the
trees, every shadow, every space between branches.
And then I saw them figures at first.
I thought it was the trees playing tricks on me, but then
they moved. People tall and short men and
women standing at the edge of the clearing half hidden in the
Gloom. Their faces were pale and blanks
slightly open as the humming Port out of them.
Their clothes were all wrong. Mismatched tattered layers that
looked like they'd been pulled from another time.
I stumbled back my pulse hammering in my ears.
Who's there? I croaked.
No one answered. They didn't move.
Didn't blink. Just watched.
Then a shaped stepped forward from the line of trees and I
felled rise in my throat. It was him.
The man in the flannel jacket. He was closer.
Now, close enough for me to see the way.
His face didn't seem right to smooth in some places to Halo in
others, as if it were a mask stretched too thin over
something else. That same Crooked Smile, split
his face and when he spoke it was barely a whisper.
Shouldn't have come back. I turned and ran, branches,
clawed at my clothes, scratched, my face as I tore through the
woods, the humming growing louder and louder, until it felt
like it was vibrating through my chest.
I didn't look back. I couldn't I could feel them
moving though closing in around me, the sound coming from all
directions. I hit the trail nearly
stumbling. As I sprinted toward the
clearing, my car was still there.
I dug the keys out of my pocket with shaking hands, throwing
myself into the driver's seat and locking the doors.
The humming stopped. It was silent again.
I sat there panting gripping the steering wheel waiting for
something, anything to appear. nothing did After a long minute,
I forced myself to look back at the trail.
They were gone. I backed out slowly half
expecting to see the man step out from the trees, but there
was nothing. I turned onto the road and drove
not stopping, until I was Miles Away, the trees behind me
swallowed up by distance. Later, back at the cabin.
I plugged in my camera. Hoping the photos would distract
me anything to convince myself. That what I'd seen wasn't real.
But as I scrolled through the shots, my chest tightened.
The Grove was there perfectly framed?
The trees twisting into dark Silhouettes, but in the shadows,
I saw them. Faint outlines of figures
standing perfectly still watching.
And in the last photo, the very last one.
There was something else a shape in the foreground just out of
focus close, too close. I slammed the laptop shut and
sat back the humming still rattling in my skull.
Like it never really stopped. They hadn't just been watching,
they'd been waiting. The cold, hit me.
The second we stepped out side, sharp and quiet.
Christmas dinner was a memory already too much food, too much
heat in that stuffy, little living room.
Dan nudged my elbow with a grin, holding up the flash light, like
a trophy. You sure you're ready for this?
Frostbite makes a great Christmas gift.
I rolled my eyes tightening my coat.
I'll risk it. Just don't drop that flashlight
or will end up as Frozen statues.
The Village felt empty, even for Christmas.
The houses sat still lit faintly by warm yellow glows.
Dan flicked on the industrial flashlight and its beam cut
through the dark, like a blade. Sweeping across the road ahead.
Everything outside. The circle of light looked
unnerving. Black We walked in Step boots
crunching against ice and gravel our breaths curling in the air.
I hugged my camera to my chest. We needed this.
I said it's too quiet in there. I felt like I was suffocating
Exactly why I suggested it. Dan swung the beam side to side
as we veered onto the narrow path that led toward the woods.
This stretch of road always felt lonely at night.
On one side, open field stretched out flat and
dead-looking beneath the Moon. On the other, the forest loomed
a wall of Twisted branches that clawed at the sky waiting to
swallow. Anyone who wandered too close.
I thought about the wild boars Dan, always teased me about it
was mating season, and the last thing I wanted was to come face
to face with one in the dark. When we reached the forest edge,
I spotted something ahead. Metal glinting faintly in the
light. Dan's beam landed on it, and I
grabbed his arm. What the hell is that?
It was a car, an old battered sedan, half sunken into the
underbrush, like it had been left to die there.
The windows were frosted over thick and milky.
The longer. I looked The Stranger, it felt
like it didn't belong. Nobody drove out here.
The path was too narrow and there were no turnarounds for
miles. Abandoned Dan muttered his voice
low. He stepped closer.
The light. Catching more details.
Dirt streaked Windows. Deep scratches along the
driver's side door. Why would someone leave a car
here? I said my voice sounded too
loud. Maybe they broke down.
I don't know. My come on.
Let's keep moving. But I was already raising my
camera. The scene was too strange to
ignore. I adjusted the settings and
motioned for Dan to aim the flash light at it.
Just hold it still for a second. This is weird.
It'll make a great shot. The beam wobbled a little but I
focused on the car, framing it against the Twisted, Forest
backdrop, The Flash popped bright and jarring and for half
a second. The entire scene was lit up in
stark white. When the light faded, I caught a
glimpse of something past the car in the trees.
A shape. Dan, I whispered lowering the
camera. He didn't hear me.
I turned to find him, standing completely, still flashlight
aimed at the ground Maya. His voice was barely audible.
Don't freak out. Okay.
Why would I someone standing behind us?
I froze. The air turned to ice and my
lungs. What?
He didn't move didn't turn just shifted The Flash lightly enough
to wide in the beam and there maybe 20 feet away in the middle
of the path. We just walked stood.
A man I couldn't see his face, he stood just beyond the reach
of the light wrapped in Shadow but I could make out his shape
tall and thin head tilted slightly as if he were studying
us. I tried to speak but my throat
had locked itself. Shut Dan managed first.
Hey, his voice cracked you. Okay, man, you need something.
The man didn't move didn't respond.
He just stood there. Dan tightened his grip on the
flash light. Maya, let's go.
I was already backing up my pulse thundering in my ears.
The man shifted not forward, but backward, sinking step by step
into the darkness, like a ghost. The way he moved was wrong,
slow, but deliberate, as if he wanted us to know, he was
leaving or waiting. Dan grabbed my arm tugging.
Me along the path. Come on, don't look back.
Just walk. And we did Fast.
I clutched, my camera to my chest, every muscle in my body.
Screaming at me to run, but I couldn't.
I felt him behind us felt his eyes, the silence where
footsteps should have been. Dan.
I whispered breathless, what if he's following us?
He's not, but he didn't sound sure.
We hit the end of the path where the first week of a streetlight
appeared. I turned just for a second and
my stomach dropped. The car had moved the headlights
flashed on briefly blindingly before the engine coughed to
life. The car crept forward grinding
against the dirt, but then stopped.
Just stopped. The headlights turned off again
and the man silhouette appeared behind the wheel staring down
the path toward us. He leaving.
I asked voice trembling. Dan didn't answer, we didn't
wait to find out, we sprinted the last stretch to the Village,
not stopping. Until we reached the first house
where the light felt safe and warm.
I turned one last time panting and saw the faint outline of the
car. Still parked at the edge of the
forest, its body hidden in Shadow.
Dan grabbed my hand and pulled me away. neither of us spoke
until we were back inside the locks turned tight, I leaned
against the door, the weight of what we'd seen sinking in.
Dan. I finally whispered.
Yeah. That car, it didn't belong
there. Dan didn't say anything.
He just stared out the window passed the fields and toward the
black edge of the forest. And I couldn't stop thinking
about the man. How he'd been standing there?
The next morning. Everything looked normal.
Like the woods, hadn't swallowed, a car and a man
hadn't stood there in the dark watching us like we were lost
pets. I tried to convince myself at
had been nothing. A bad dream stirred up by too
much food. And two little sleep but I knew
better. Dan didn't say, much over
breakfast, he just sat at the table, chewing his toast.
Like it was chewing him back and stared at the window.
Outside the forest loomed in the distance.
The trees thick and dark. Even under the weak winter,
sunlight. I finally broke the silence.
We need to go back. Dan looked up blinking, go back
where To the woods. To the car.
We didn't imagine that Dan. I didn't say we imagined it.
He avoided my gaze, but I caught his hands clenched into fists on
the table. Dan had always been the
Practical one. Never prone to paranoia or
Flights of Fancy. That's why seeing him rattled
unnerved me more than anything. You don't want to know who that
was. I pressed what he was doing
there. I want to forget it happened.
Maya, that's what I want. But I couldn't something about
that, man. How silently he moved how he
melted into the Shadows was burned into my mind.
So after lunch, I convinced Dan to go back, just for a minute, I
said, grabbing my camera and pulling on my coat.
We'll check it out in daylight. I just I need to know.
Dan's side, but grabbed the flashlight anyway.
It didn't feel like Overkill not after last night.
The walk back felt completely different in the light.
The path was smaller than I remembered frost covered gravel
and muddy patches where the sun had started to thaw the ice.
Birds chirped in the distance. Everything seemed too.
Normal. Like the forest was gaslighting
us. When we reached the spot where
the car had been, I stopped short.
It was gone. See Dan said sounding almost
relieved. He left told you, we shouldn't
have come back. But I stepped closer staring at
the dirt where the tires had been there.
Were faint Impressions still there.
The ground Frozen and soft at the edges.
You could see where the car had backed up deep ruts in the mud,
then just disappeared. Where did he go?
I muttered Dan turned away. Maya.
Let's hold on. Something else.
Caught my eye. A bit of fabric small and pink
caught on a bramble of a few feet from the tire marks.
I bent down and pulled it free. It was a glove, a child's glove,
tiny and muddied one, finger tip torn.
Dan I said, holding it up. he squinted his face darkening,
Where'd that come from? I don't know, but I trailed off
as something shiny caught, the sunlight, a few feet further
into the brush. I moved toward it.
Ignoring Dan's Grumble of protest.
My boots sank into the wet ground, brambles clawing at my
pants. As I pushed into the
undergrowth. What?
I found made my stomach turn. It was a knife, rusted, and
buried. Halfway into a tree trunk.
Someone had jammed at there with enough Force to leave the bark
splintered around the blade. A hunting knife, but old like it
had been sitting there for weeks maybe months.
Jesus. Dan whispered behind me.
What the hell is this? I turned slowly heart.
Pounding in my ears. Someone was here.
Someone's been here a while. And then Dan, spotted the whole.
About 10 feet deeper into the woods, a shallow, Depression had
been dug into the dirt. It was ringed with Footprints
boot prints and surrounded by empty bottles plastic bags and
scraps of fabric A sleeping bag. Sat bunched in the center.
Dampened with something dark. Dan didn't say a word?
He just stood there staring at it.
What is this? I whispered my voice shaking is
someone living here. Dan shook his head?
No, not living hiding. I stared back at the footprint,
circling the site, the broken sticks.
The knife wedged into the tree, my skin prickled.
Do you think he was watching us last night from here?
Dan, grabbed my arm hard enough to make me wince.
We're leaving now. Back home, I didn't wait.
This time, I called the police immediately explaining
everything. The car, the man, the strange
camp in the woods. I told them about the knife, the
glove, the sleeping bag the officer on the phone, sounded
calm, but he asked me to describe the car in detail,
color. Make the little I could
remember. And our later, an officer called
back. we checked the area, he said there's no car, but we
found the spot you described were going to keep looking I
exhaled shakily, but before I could thank him, he added,
here's the thing, a car matching, your description was
reported stolen from the city a week ago, six hours away.
Stolen. I repeated.
Yes, he said his voice dropped lower like he didn't want anyone
else to hear the owners missing. They haven't been seen in over
two weeks. I felt the blood drained from my
face. Dan sat across from me watching
as I clutched the phone tighter. Will keep you updated the
officer finished. But listen, stay out of those
woods for now. People hide in places like that
for a reason. He hung up leaving me in a
silence that suddenly felt alive.
Dan shifted in his chair. What did they say?
I swallowed hard. The car was stolen and the
owner, they're missing. Dan's face paled for a while,
neither of us spoke. I looked out the window where
the edge of the forest stared back dark and still that night,
I swore, I heard footsteps outside the house, they started
soft almost imagined, but then came closer boots pressing
slowly against the frost covered grass.
I sat up in bed, heart pounding, Dan was already awake beside me.
Clutching the flashlight from the night before.
Did you hear that? I whispered, he nodded eyes
locked on the window. We didn't move, didn't breathe.
And then the footstep stopped right beneath the window, the
flashlight flickered and Dan's shaking hand.
It's beamed at the curtain. Neither of us dared to pull it
back. And then finally, the sound came
again. A slow deliberate Retreat back
into the woods. I didn't sleep at all that
night. It was two nights later when the
real terror said in Dan and I hadn't spoken much since the
police called there wasn't anything left to say?
We kept busy watched TV, we didn't really follow pretended,
we weren't both jumping at every Sound Outside.
But that feeling the one that lingered from the forest hadn't
left. I couldn't shake it.
Every time I looked at the window or heard a Creak on the
floorboards, my stomach clenched.
We'd check the locks twice sometimes three times before
bed. Dan had even gone outside to
make sure the shed and garage were bolted shut.
And every night, we slept with the flash light on the bedside
table, its beam ready to pierce the dark at a moment's notice.
It made us feel safe for That night though, something changed.
I woke up Suddenly gasping. Like I had been dragged out of a
nightmare except there had been no dream.
Just a feeling heavy and suffocating that something was
wrong. the room was Pitch, Black I reached for the flashlight but
my hand hit empty. Would the flashlight?
Wasn't there? I froze every inch of me on high
alert. Dan, I whispered my voice hoarse
He shifted beside me. Hmm, the flashlight.
Where is it? He sat up groggy.
It's his hand fumbled for the table and froze.
Just like mine had where the hell we stared at each other
eyes wide. We hadn't moved it.
It had been there. When we went to sleep, the sound
came then. Soft tap, tap tap against the
window. Deliberate slow I couldn't move
my body refused to obey me Dan turned first, his breath
shallow, his face pale in the faint, Moonlight filtering
through the curtains, the taping stopped.
And then, impossibly a beam of light swept across the window It
was a flashlight. Our flashlight.
I gasped choking on the air, Dan shot out of bed and grabbed my
arm. Stay here, he whispered know, I
said Panic Rising Dan don't, but he was already moving.
Stalking toward the window. His hands, hovered over the
curtains hesitating then without warning, he yanked them open the
flashlight beam shown directly into our bedroom.
It hovered there, motionless. Blinding us for a moment and
then tilted downward toward the figure holding it.
There he was. Standing at the edge of our
yard, just passed the garden. It was the man from the woods.
The same tall, thin silhouette his face hidden beneath the
shadow of a hood. His body was unnaturally still
like he'd been planted there. Rooted to the spot.
He held the flash light pointed upward.
Now as though showing it to us, As though taunting us.
Dan dropped the curtain, like it burned, him call the cops, he
whispered his voice shaking I scrambled for my phone, my
fingers, trembling so badly, I could barely type in the
passcode. It rang once twice.
Dan moved to the front door, grabbing the bat, we kept behind
the coat rack. Stay up stairs.
I mean, it Maya. No.
Dan stop. I hissed but he was already
descending. The stairs.
Flash light gone bat in hand. The operator, finally answered
911. What's your emergency?
There's someone outside my house.
I blurted. He's standing in my yard
watching us. He he has our flashlight.
He Stay calm. Ma'am.
Is your door locked? Yes.
Is the person still outside? I peeked out the curtain.
Again, the man was gone. The yard stood empty, still
blanketed in Frost and silence. I pressed a hand to my mouth.
A wave of nausea washing over me.
He's not there anymore. I whispered the operator asked
me to hold, but I didn't listen. I stumbled down stairs.
Heart pounding, in my ears. Dan was in the living room, the
bat clutched. In his hands staring at the
front door. He's gone.
I choked down. He's gone.
Dan didn't turn to look at me. He just nodded.
Still staring at the door. I stepped closer and saw it, the
flash light. Our flash light was lying on the
welcome mat. I couldn't breathe Dan didn't
move. The beam was off now, but the
handle sat there, clean and cold placed perfectly in the center
of the mat like an offering. Did you see him leave?
I whispered. Dan shook his head, his knuckles
white around the bat. No, I didn't hear anything.
The police arrived, 20 minutes later, they searched the yard,
the shed, the perimeter of the house, but there were no
Footprints just faint. Disturbances in the frost.
That led back toward the trees. Toward the forest.
One officer handed me the flashlight.
You're sure it's yours. I nodded weekly, we brought it
to the woods two nights ago, it it disappeared.
The officer glanced toward the tree line.
His expression hard to read will Patrol the area tonight.
He said, but you too need to stay inside.
Lock your doors. If you see anything else, don't
go outside, call us immediately the rest of the night passed in
a sickening blur. Dan didn't sleep?
Neither did I the flash light sat on the table like a cursed
object? I couldn't look at it without
imagining him standing there holding it pointing it at the
window. Just Before Dawn, I heard it
again the soft deliberate tap tap, tap only this time.
It came from the back door. And I swear to God, whoever it
was whistled before disappearing into the dark.
Christmas Eve was supposed to feel magical.
It always had for me, warm Houses, full of people.
You only see once a year, tables sagging under plates of food,
the kind of laughter that could shake the walls.
That's what the night had been perfect.
Emily. And I spent hours at my uncle's
Farmhouse tucked deep in the country where snow dusted, the
trees and the fireplace, roared loud enough to drown out the
Christmas music. I watched Emily her first time
meeting the extended family fit in, like, she'd been there for
years, she even won two rounds of Poker.
Probably thanks to my cousin's, inability to Bluff when flirting
She'd had her fair share of spiked, eggnog too much, really.
By the time we were ready to leave.
She was warm and giggling. Half asleep on her feet.
That's when I took the keys. I didn't mind.
I knew the roads home. Like the back of my hand.
Emily slumped into the passenger seat.
As I ease her car down the driveway headlights, slicing
through the dark. It's hard to explain how empty
those roads felt just long stretches of Pavements,
surrounded by black woods and the occasional clearing, where a
farmhouse would sit. Like a lonely ship on a sea of
snow, no street lights, no traffic nothing, but me and the
hum of the engine Emily dosed beside me breathing, slow and
steady her head lolling against the window. the deeper, we drove
the quieter, the world seemed to get Highway 117 was my old
friend miles of nothing. Connecting forgotten towns.
I could have driven it blindfolded, but that night felt
different Maybe it was the cold creeping into the car, despite
the heater blasting. Maybe it was the way the trees
seemed thicker than I remembered their branches hanging low, like
they were trying to block out the sky.
We reached Cedar Creek just after midnight, the roads there,
a steep plunge into a gully where an Old Bridge crosses, the
creek at the bottom. The bridge was nothing special,
rusted guard rails. Wooden planks reinforced with
asphalt, but something about that spot.
Always felt wrong like the are changed when you crossed it.
I didn't mention it to Emily. Of course, she was awake now,
blinking Brolly and rubbing her eyes.
Almost home. I said trying to sound cheerful
She gave me a sleepy smile and nodded.
That's when it happened. Out of nowhere, something shot
across the road, a flash of red and white at the edge of the
headlights. I slammed the brakes.
The tire shrieked on the Frozen pavement and Emily yelped,
grabbing the dashboard. The car, skidded jerking to a
stop just shy of the shoulder. My heart hammered against my
ribs. The echo of the brakes ringing
in my ears. What the hell was that?
I blurted my voice too loud. In the sudden silence.
Emily was wide-eyed. Clutching her seatbelt.
Did you see that I nodded throat?
Dry. Yea, yea, I saw it.
What was it? I didn't know.
It had been too fast, a shape something human-sized, but the
way it moved, it wasn't right. There was no stumble, no,
hesitation it shot across the road like it knew exactly where
it was going. A dear Emily offered weekly but
we both knew better. I stared out at the Dark Forest
beyond the road. The high beams barely touched
the tree line. Just enough to reveal Twisted
Trunks and branches like reaching hands my stomach.
Churned. I'm gonna check it out.
I said before, I could stop myself.
What Emily grabbed my arm? No, no, we're not doing that,
just drive, let's go. Someone could be hurt.
I said though, I wasn't sure I believed it.
Maybe I was trying to convince myself that's why I was getting
out my gut told me to leave to forget it but I couldn't shake
the feeling that something or someone was still out there.
I turned the car around pointing the headlights back at the
stretch of road where I'd seen it.
Emily stayed, silent, arms crossed tightly over her chest
eyes. Darting.
Nervously to the trees. I flicked on the high beams and
the world seemed to shrink to the bubble of light in front of
me. Beyond it was endless dark.
I stepped out of the car, the cold slamming into me, like a
wall. My breath fogged in the are
hanging there. Like a ghost as I shut the door
behind me. The silence was unbearable.
There were no insects no wind, no distinct cars.
Just the faint of the engine and the snow crunching under my
boots. As I walk toward the woods.
Daniel Emily called softly from the car.
Please don't ignored her. I don't know why.
I stood at the edge of the road staring into the forest, my
pulse pounded, in my ears. I felt like I was being watched
though. I couldn't see anything.
Just shadows and branches that Twisted into shapes.
My brain kept trying to turn into people.
Then the horn blared it was deafening a single endless blast
that made me jump out of my skin.
I spun toward the car blinking against the glare of the
headlights. Emily had her hand.
Pressed hard on the horn. Her eyes locked on.
Something passed me. My blood turned to ice.
I turned slowly following her gaze there.
Standing 10 feet into the trees was a man.
At first, he didn't seem real. He was so still like part of the
forest had grown into the shape of a person.
His skin was pale, almost gray, smeared with dirt and streaks of
something darker. His chest was Bare Naked and he
stood Barefoot on the snow. But the thing that stuck out the
most was the Santa hat perched on his head.
Bright red tilting slightly like some Twisted joke.
He held something in his right hand.
It took my brain. A moment to register what it was
a machete, the blade caught the light from the car glinting.
Just enough to make my stomach drop.
Smiled. Not a friendly smile.
A wide slow knowing smile. That didn't reach his eyes.
He raised his left hand and waved at me, slowly deliberately
like he'd been expecting me. I don't remember running back to
the car. I don't remember starting the
engine or slamming the door. All I know, is Emily screamed
drive and I did. The Santa hat was the last thing
I saw a red disappearing into the trees as we sped away.
Emily screaming filled the car as we tore down the highway.
My hands were white knuckled on the wheel every muscle in my
body locked and shaking. I didn't dare look in the
rearview mirror. I didn't want to see him it
standing on the side of the road waiting watching.
What the hell was that? Emily's voice cracked.
She was curled up in the passenger seat.
Her needs pulled to her chest. Her hands trembling so badly.
She had to clench them into fists.
Daniel, what the hell was that? I couldn't answer.
My chest felt tight, like, I couldn't get enough.
Are the Santa hat that goddamn hat?
I had seen the machete. I had seen his face and somehow
the smile that slow deliberate. Grin was the worst of it, like
he knew me like he'd been expecting me.
He waved I said my voice, hoarse my words, didn't even sound like
my own. He waved at me.
Shut up. Emily.
Snapped her voice sharp with fear just shut up and drive.
So I did, I drove the dark pressed in from all sides and
the headlights felt pitiful against the black of the forest.
I swear the woods looked thicker.
Now the branches huddled close like they were whispering to
each other. I kept expecting to see him
again stepping out from the trees grinning machete glinting
in the light. My pulse didn't slow, until I
finally saw the glow of Emily's house in the distance.
Streetlights porch lights. The faint orange tint of a
living room window. Civilization.
My foot was shaking so hard on the gas pedal that I almost
missed her driveway. I swerved in throwing the car
into park and killing the engine.
Neither of us moved. The only sound was our breathing
ragged and shallow. I glanced at Emily.
Her eyes were wide and wet with tears.
Her face pale. She wasn't looking at me.
She was staring out the windshield back toward the road
inside. I said, let's get inside.
She nodded wordlessly and we bolted from the car like it
might explode. My boots hit the gravel and the
night air felt sharper here cleaner.
But colder, my hand shook as I jammed her keys into the lock
once we were in, I slammed the door shut behind us, turned the
deadbolt and pressed. My back against the wood.
Like it might somehow keep the man that thing outside.
The house was silent except for the ticking of a clock somewhere
deeper inside. Emily sank, onto the couch,
dropping her face into her hands.
What did we just see she whispered through her fingers?
I didn't answer, I couldn't my legs were trembling and I had to
sit, I dropped into the chair opposite her and just stared at
nothing. My brain refused to catch up to
what it happened, the dark shape sprinting across the road.
The man, the hatchet smiling at me like we were old friends and
the wave that's slow. Deliberate wave.
Emily looked up. Daniel.
She said her voice trembling when you got out of the car.
I met her eyes. Yeah, she swallowed hard her
throat. Working like she didn't want to
say the words. He wasn't in front of us.
He wasn't where you were looking.
My mouth went dry. I saw him.
She continued her voice. Barely above a whisper.
While you were staring into the trees, he was behind you.
He came out of the woods further down the road.
I saw him step out and he started walking toward you.
So quiet, the machete was raised Daniel like he was going to, she
broke off her voice, catching her hands curled into her
sweatshirt, sleeves gripping the fabric, like it might keep her
steady. I felt like I was going to be
sick. She nodded fresh tears sliding
down her cheeks. You didn't see him.
He was so close. I hit the horn because I I
didn't know what else to do. I stared at her, my heart
hammering in my chest, my brain played the scene back over and
over me at the edge of the woods staring into nothing.
While behind me, right behind me, that man was closing in and
I hadn't heard him. Not a twig, snapping, not a
footfall. Nothing.
Jesus. I whispered slumping back in the
chair. We sat in silence for a long
time, the clock, ticked endlessly counting down to
something. I didn't want to think about
finally, Emily. Stood up.
We have to call the cops. I didn't argue, I grabbed the
phone hands still shaking and dialed.
The cops arrived about an hour later.
Two of them. Officer Daniels and officer
Ruiz. They were polite but they didn't
hide their skepticism. Well, we told them everything,
the man in the Santa hat, the machete.
The way he had waived and vanished back in to the trees
Ruiz took notes barely looking up from his note pad Daniels,
kept shifting his weight like he couldn't wait to get back in the
squad car. It was probably a Drifter
Daniels said finally meth head may be, you get him sometimes in
the woods out here. I stared at him.
A Drifter? Did you hear what?
I said, he waved at me. He smiled.
Drifters smiled, too. Daniel's replied with a shrug
Emily, his face was pale again. And the machete.
The officers exchanged to glance Ruiz side.
Look, we'll drive out there, check the bridge if he's out
there, he won't last long. Not in this cold the words made
my skin crawl if he's out there. and just like that, they were
gone a promise to call if they found anything and two
retreating taillights disappearing down the road,
Emily locked every window in the house after they left, even
though I was sure we were safe now.
I told her it was over just a random, psycho a freak incident.
But as I lay awake that night staring at the ceiling, my mind,
kept drifting back to the man's face.
That horrible grin. The way he tilted his head, the
Santa hat perched on his filthy hair.
I couldn't stop thinking about how he had waived, not like a
stranger. Not like a man caught in
headlights. No, he had waved at me like he
knew me like, he'd been waiting for me.
I thought time would bury that night on Cedar Creek, Bridge.
I thought after a while it would feel like some hazy nightmare, a
bad story. I tell once or twice at parties
embellished until it became something harmless.
That's what I told myself. That's what I wanted.
But some things don't stay buried.
It's been years since Emily and I drove down Highway 117 since I
stared into the trees and saw him smiling back at me.
Life moved on. The relationship ended as young
relationships do. I moved away started fresh
somewhere far from the empty roads of Oregon's Backwoods.
And then like some cruel trick life, brought me back.
Two months ago, I took a job in my old Hometown.
It was good money, close to family.
I told myself I'd outgrown the fear that had gripped me.
All those years ago, that man, the Santa hat, the machete.
It had all been some deranged Drifter playing games.
He was probably dead in a ditch somewhere. that's what I wanted
to believe, but here I was driving home on Christmas Eve
alone. The road looked the same as it
always had. Black is tar.
No traffic, no light. Except the faint glow of my high
beams. The snow was falling now, fat
flakes. Swirling in the beams of my
headlights coating, the road in a thin treacherous Lair.
I turned off the radio. I didn't know why maybe because
it felt wrong to hear someone crooning about peace on Earth
while I drove this stretch of road.
The closer I got to Cedar Creek. The quieter, the world seemed to
grow. It was like stepping into a
bubble of silence. My tires, rolled over the snow
making soft muffled sounds I came to the hill, the Steep
descent into the Gully looked the same.
I felt it in my chest, the memory of that, drop the place
where it happened. The bridge weighted at the
bottom, a flat black smear across the snow.
My hands tightened on the wheel. I told myself to breathe, I
driven this road before dozens of times since I came back,
nothing had happened, nothing would happen.
But still my eyes flicked toward the woods.
And there it was, it was just a glimpse a flash of red deep in
the trees off to the right. I nearly drove off the road
trying to convince myself. I hadn't seen it.
It was probably a piece of trash, a bit of cloth, snagged
on a brand. My imagination, I didn't stop,
but as I rolled onto the bridge I realized how much I was
holding my breath. The cars headlights cut through
the darkness. The bridge itself was narrow,
The guardrails, Rusted and brittle with age Beyond them.
The creek was a sliver of Frozen Blackness I could feel it under
me waiting. Something moved.
It was quick, barely there. Just passed the reach of the
headlights. I slammed on the brakes, the car
skidded to a stop in the middle of the bridge.
My heart was pounding so hard. I could feel it in my throat,
the headlights carved, pale, slashes into the trees.
On the other side of the bridge, they're beams breaking against
the trunks. Everything was still two still.
I leaned forward, squinting into the dark.
My breaths fogged, the windshield, and I wiped at it
with my sleeve. I wasn't sure what I was looking
for. Maybe nothing, maybe something.
I didn't want to see and then I saw him the man.
He was standing just beyond the guardrail, barely 20 feet away.
My headlights caught him full on washing out his face until it
looked like a blank mask, but I knew it was him.
I knew it from the way he stood still.
As a statue shoulder slumped slightly forward.
Like he was waiting for me to see him.
And on his head. Oh God on his head was the same
filthy Santa hat. It was tilted to one side in the
white trim was dark and wet with grind.
His bare skin was a sickly gray, streaked with dirt that looked
black in the light his feet were bare planted firmly in the snow
but he didn't move didn't Flinch.
He just smiled the same Smile as before.
Like, I was an old friend who just stumbled back into town.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.
I grip the wheel so hard. My Knuckles.
Burned my eyes darted to his right hand and there, it was the
machete. Its blade.
Hung low, almost brushing the snow.
And then he waved a slow lazy wave, like he was taunting me.
Like, he'd been waiting for me all this time.
I slammed my foot on the gas tires screaming as they fought
for traction. The car shot forward and I
didn't look back. I couldn't my whole body was
shaking and I could barely keep the wheel steady as I tore up
the hill. I didn't stop not until I was
Miles Away. The bridge, a distant nightmare
swallowed by Darkness. That night, I sat, in my living
room, with every light in the house, on the front door locked
in double checked. My heart hadn't stopped racing.
I couldn't get his face out of my head that smile.
I thought about what Emily had said, all those years ago, he
was already there. He was behind you.
Had he been waiting for me tonight?
All these years later had he just known?
I didn't sleep, but as I sat there in the Silent House
staring at the curtains that didn't quite cover the window.
I swore, I saw it again, just to flicker, like a shadow moving,
where it shouldn't a splash of red.
I didn't check, I didn't dare. Some nights when I'm on that
road again. I don't even let myself blink.
I keep my eyes straight ahead and my foot heavy on the gas.
I don't care what I see out of the corner of my eye deep in the
trees. But I know he's there.
And sometimes when the night is quiet enough.
I swear, I can hear it a slow, deliberate knock on the glass
and a soft voice whispering. Merry Christmas.
It was Christmas Eve when I made the mistake of going into the
woods. The snow had fallen and sheets
all day piling up in perfect. Undisturbed Mounds outside my
parents house. The kind of snow that blankets
everything and makes the world unnerving.
Quiet. Growing up here just outside a
tiny mountain town. I was used to Winter's like
this. Back then the silence felt
magical. Now, it just felled heavy.
Something was holding its breath.
We just finished dinner the house.
Warm with the smell of roasted ham and pine from the old wood
stove. My parents sat on the couch
mumbling about the weather in the storm expected later
tonight. I don't know what got into me,
restlessness may be but the idea hit me like an itch.
I couldn't scratch. The old trail.
The one I used to walk as a kid. I stood up pulled on my boots
and coat and told them I was going for a quick walk.
Your kidding, right? My dad asked his brow furrowed
as he sipped his whiskey. It's Christmas Eve Eli.
Don't be stupid. My mom added.
She wasn't smiling. I'll be back in an hour, just
the trail to the creek. I said, It's not like I don't
know the way. My dad Shrugged mumbling,
something under his breath but my mom shot me a look.
That made me hesitate at the door.
It was weird. Almost like she knew something I
didn't but I brushed It Off. The cold hit me like a slap.
As I stepped out side, the are sharp and thick with the smell
of snow. For a second, I stood there in
the dark. My breath turning to clouds in
the beam of my flashlight. The woods stretched ahead of me
tall black Shadows, standing perfectly still under their snow
heavy branches. I could hear the creek of ice in
the wind, the distant sound of something dripping, and then
silence. The trail was barely visible
beneath the snow, but my boots. Founded instinctively.
I used to know every step of this place.
It wounds steeply down through the forest, narrow enough that I
had to duck under the occasional low-hanging Branch.
The air was colder here sharper like the trees held the wind
hostage about halfway down. I stopped to listen.
Nothing not a bird, not a branch, not a damn thing.
It was so quiet. My ears with it.
The woods had always been quiet and winter but this was
different unnatural almost like the forest was waiting.
I shook it off and kept moving pushing deeper into the trees.
Eventually the creek came into view, a thin sliver of
ice-covered water, cutting through the landscape, like a
scar, the Old Logging Cab in sat just beyond it, and abandoned
rotting Relic. My friends and I used to dare
each other to explore. It looks smaller than I
remembered. That's when I saw it.
At first, it looked like a lump of snow hanging from a branch
across the creek. I shown my flash light at it and
my heart dropped. A rabbit strung upside down its
body stiff, and Frozen a noose of twine digging into its
ankles. I swallowed hard, it was fresh.
Its throat had been slit clean the blood frozen into thin black
lines that traced down its fur. I turned quickly scanning the
woods with my flashlight. someone had to have done this
recently today, maybe even tonight the thought made my
chest tighten. I'd grown up here, spend years
in these trees, I'd never seen another Soul, this deep in the
woods, who would even come out here in the middle of winter.
A sound broke. The silence clang.
I froze clang clang, clang. It was a bell, low, and heavy
ringing from somewhere in the distance to the north.
My flashlight trembled in my hand as I scan the trees but
there was nothing there. Just the Shadows shifting under
the snow. I tried to tell myself, it was
nothing, a cowbell maybe or someone's dog, but deep down, I
knew better. There were no Farms out this
far, no houses and the bell wasn't ringing randomly.
There was a rhythm to it slow. Deliberate wrong.
I stepped back my boot crunching hard in the snow.
The sound stopped. The silence rushed back in
thicker. Now pressing against my ears
like cotton I turned around and headed back up the trail faster
this time. I told myself, I was just being
paranoid that it was probably some Hunter messing around.
But then I saw it not the rabbit.
Another one, this one was sprawled across the stump.
Its first clean, its limbs splayed.
Out unnaturally. Almost as though, it had been
arranged my flash light shook as I stepped closer and realized
something else. Boot prints.
Fresh ones deep and large circling the stump.
I felt like the air had been sucked from my lungs.
I spun around scanning the darkness.
My flash light flickered, and for one terrifying, second.
I thought I saw a shadow move between the trees.
I stopped breathing. The Bell started again, clang
clang. Clang closer.
My heart hammered in my chest. And I bolted, I didn't care if I
tripped or if I broke my ankle. I just needed to get out.
The snow seemed deeper. Now, grabbing at my boots.
Slowing me down. I could hear the belt following
me. The sound growing louder faster.
When I reached the top of the trail, I didn't stop.
I burst into the yard my chest heaving and ran straight into
the house. My mom looked up from the couch
startled, while my dad stood up alarmed.
What the hell happened to you? He barked I couldn't answer.
I just turned and locked the door.
From the kitchen window I stared into the woods half expecting to
see someone step out of the trees, but there was nothing
just snow falling in thick, heavy flakes, coating the world
in white. Somewhere in the distance.
I swore. I still heard it.
Clang, clang! I barely slept that night every
time I close my eyes I heard it the ringing.
Slow and deliberate like a clock counting down claiming clang,
clang, I kept telling myself, it was in my head.
It had to be the woods were empty nothing but snow and
shadows. My parents didn't hear anything.
After I came back last night. So, what the hell was I hearing
now? By morning, it didn't matter.
The sound was gone and I decided to chalk it up to stress.
Too much Christmas ham too much Nostalgia messing with my head.
I wouldn't be going back to the trail.
That was for damn sure. Or at least that's what I told
myself. By the time, the afternoon
rolled around, I started pacing. I don't know why the house felt
too small, too, warm, the idea of that trail.
Wouldn't leave me alone though. I tried I stared out the window,
my eyes drawn to the tree line. It was like the forest was
watching me. Calling me back.
That's how I ended up in the woods again.
Walking that same snow-covered Trail, it was stupid.
I knew it was stupid. Even as I shoved my boots on and
told my dad, I just needed some are He grunted, something in
response, but didn't argue the snow had stopped falling, and
the sky was the kind of pale flat gray that makes everything
feel unreal. Like the world had been drained
of color. The first few minutes were so
bad. I could hear the crunch of my
boots on the snow steady and Loud grounding me.
The trail looked the same, so the trees seemed taller today,
the Shadows between their trunks darker.
I kept my flash light with me, just in case.
The sun set, early and winter and I wasn't planning on staying
long. It wasn't until I reached the
creek that things started to go wrong.
The rabbit was gone. The first one I'd found the one
hanging from the branch. It wasn't there anymore.
For a second. I thought maybe I'd gotten
turned around but the broken snow below the tree told me.
Otherwise. Something had taken it.
My throat went dry. I looked around every muscle in
my body, tensing, like, a coiled spring.
The silence was overwhelming again.
So deep it, made my ears whom And I heard it clang.
It was faint at first somewhere to my right.
A single note that broke through the quiet, like, glass
shattering clang. Clang clang.
It was unmistakable. Now the bell and it was closer.
I turned toward the sound holding my breath and scam the
woods with my flash light nothing but snow and trees.
I took a step back suddenly hyper aware of my own breathing.
Then I saw the boot prints. They weren't mine.
They were huge pressed deep into the snow fresh enough that the
edges were still sharp. They LED toward the creek, then
off to the right into the trees where the light didn't reach, my
heart began to hammer against my ribs clang, clang, clang.
The Bell was louder now, closer so close.
I thought I should be able to see it.
I spun around light, trembling in my hand, as I swept it across
the forest movement. I stopped cold my breath.
Catching in my throat between two trees.
Far ahead, I saw it a figure. At first I couldn't make sense
of what I was seeing it was tall unnaturally tall, its shoulders
hunched slightly forward as it stood there still is the trees.
It was wearing a long coat, heavy and dark with a hood,
pulled low over its face. Its hands hung at its sides.
One gloved hand holding something.
The Bell it swung, gently softly as if the figure had only just
stopped moving. The light from my flash light
caught the bells surface. It was old rusted maybe brass
with strange grooves carved into it.
It wasn't like any Bella had ever seen.
The figure didnt move it just stood there.
Staring at me. and then it took a step, the bell rang with the
motion, clang, I stumbled backwards slipping on the snow,
but I didn't take my eyes off it.
Hey, I shouted though, my voice, came out thin and ragged.
What the hell do you want? No answer.
It took another step the bells swung.
Clang, my instinct screamed at me to run, but my legs wouldn't
move. I felt Frozen like I was sinking
into the snow becoming part of the forest.
The figure tilted its head slightly just enough to make my
skin crawl. Clang Clang.
Clang. It was coming toward me slow and
deliberate the bell ringing in time with its footsteps, my body
finally woke up. I turned and bolted tearing back
toward the trail slipping and stumbling through the snow.
The sound of the Bell. Followed me Steady constant.
I fumbled for my phone as I ran my frozen fingers, barely
managing to press the call button.
My mom picked up on the first ring.
Mom. I gasped nearly choking on my
own breath. Come now, please!
I need Dad! Tell him to meet me at the
trailhead. Eli.
What's happening? Where are you?
Her voice cracked? Someone's out here.
Someone's following me. I screamed the words.
Spilling out. As I sprinted.
My flash light bobbed wildly in my hand, Illuminating nothing
but white snow and black trees. I could hear the Bell.
Clang clang, clang, always the same Pace.
Like the thing didn't even need to run to keep up with me.
Dad's coming running. Eli run.
My mom's voice broken to sobs, as I kept moving my legs
screaming and protest. Branches snap to my left
footsteps. Crunched behind me closer now.
I wanted to look back but I couldn't the Bell was deafening
clang clang. Clang, I burst onto the trail
half sliding as I tried to climb the slope back toward the
trailhead. My legs felt like lead but I
didn't stop. I couldn't stop somewhere up
ahead. I heard my dad's voice faint,
but real, I screamed back my voice hoarse.
I'm here, I'm here I didn't dare look behind me.
I just kept running faster than I ever thought I could.
Finally, the beam of my dad's flash light cut through the
trees, and I almost sobbed with relief.
I barreled toward him feeling the ground.
Give way beneath me as I threw myself into his arms.
Whose out there? He demanded spinning around to
look back at the woods. From the trees behind us, the
sound came One Last Time, clang, it was slow and deliberate
echoing through the forest like a warning.
My dad froze holding me tightly as we both turned to stare into
the darkness. The woods were still empty but I
knew it was there. My dad didn't say a word as he
pulled me up the final stretch of the trail.
His grip on my arm was iron but I couldn't stop shaking my lungs
burned. My legs felt like wet cement and
I kept glancing over my shoulder.
Convinced that if I looked back long enough, I'd see that thing
stepping out of the trees. The car sat waiting at the edge
of the trailhead, its headlights punching through the dark like
desperate hands clawing for something solid.
My mom was inside hunched over the wheel, her Knuckles White.
When she saw, she threw the door open get in.
She shouted her voice was shrill, higher pitched the
night, ever heard it before. I stumbled toward the car
collapsing into the backseat. While my dad climbed into the
passenger side, The door slammed shut and the car lurched forward
fishtailing briefly on the icy Road as my mom's.
Stomped the gas I huddled against the cold seat, every
muscle in my body locked, still half expecting to hear it again.
Playing. But there was only the sound of
the tires grinding against the snow and my own shivering
breaths. No one spoke as we drove.
My dad's stared out the passenger window one hand
resting tensley on his knee. My mom's eyes flicked to the
rear view mirror every few seconds.
Her face pinched tight as if she expected something to Lunge out
of the woods behind us, I finally found my voice.
Did you hear it? The Bell?
Neither of them answered for a long moment.
My mom's gaze stayed locked on the road, but I saw her nod
almost imperceptibly. My dad turned slightly his face
pale in the glow of the Dashboard Lights.
I heard it once, right? Before I found you, he didn't
look at me when he said it. And that scared me more than
anything. When we got home, my dad locked
the doors behind us. Double checking each one like he
was sealing us into a bunker. My mom started pacing, the
living room, wringing her hands. The Christmas tree sat in the
corner. It's lights blinking silently.
The ornaments reflecting warped, little flashes of color across
the room. It felt wrong cheerful and out
of place against the suffocating fear pressing down on us.
What the hell happened out there?
My dad finally asked. I told them everything, the
rabbits, the boot prints, the Bell, and the figure in the
woods, the coat, the hood, the way it moved. my dad's face
darkened and he glanced at my mom who was still pacing her
eyes were glassy far away, when I finished, he didn't speak.
He just stood up grabbed his coat and disappeared into the
garage. What is he doing?
I asked your father doesn't like not having answers my mom
muttered. She sank onto the couch,
pressing her fingers into her temples, like she was trying to
push the fear out of her skull. I didn't say anything else.
My head was pounding and I felt sick to my stomach.
Like, I had swallowed ice water that refused to warm.
I wanted to believe this was over that we were safe here.
Behind locked doors and solid walls. but the longer I sat in
the living room, the more I felled it await Like something
was pressing on the house from the outside.
I pulled back the curtain and looked out the window even
though I didn't want to. The yard was empty, just a sea
of untouched White. Beyond that the forest weighted
black and endless stretching Into the Night.
I told myself I didn't see anything, but the longer, I
stared the harder it was to shake the feeling that someone
was out there standing just beyond the tree line.
Watching my dad didn't come back inside for nearly an hour when
he did. He was carrying his old hunting
rifle. He sat at the table, checked the
chamber and set it down in front of him.
The look on his face was hard more serious than I'd ever seen
him before. Tomorrow, I'm going out there.
He said, no, my mom snapped standing up.
No, you're not. We need to know what's out
there. You heard it, Bill?
She shot back her voice Rising. It's not some animal, it's not
some drunk Hunter. There's something wrong with
those woods. I didn't know what scared me
more hearing the fear in my mother's voice or the fact that
my dad didn't argue, he just stared at the table, his jaw
working silently, like he was trying to grind the fear down
into dust. Eventually, I couldn't take it
anymore. What do you think it is?
I asked quietly, neither of them answered me.
That night, I sat in my room with the door locked, my back
pressed against the wall. I kept my phone in my hand, the
screen lighting up every. So often to tell me there was
nothing new No messages, no notifications, the hours dragged
on midnight, came and went and the house fell into a deep
unnatural silence. I swore, I could hear every
Creak, every faint, hum of the Furnace, every crack of ice
shifting outside at some point. I dozed off slumped against the
wall. I didn't dream when I woke up it
was because of a sound. Clang, I froze.
It was faint muffled by the walls in the snow but it was
there. Clang.
Clang, my pulse thundered in my
ears as I crept to the window. My legs.
Trembling I pulled the curtain back an inch and looked out.
The yard was empty. Snowflakes.
Floated lazily to the ground covering everything in a fresh
layer of white. But something caught my eye. two
faint impressions in the snow leading from the tree line
toward the house boot prints They stopped halfway across the
yard. I felt a cold sweat crawled down
my back. As I followed the trail with my
eyes. At the very edge of the forest,
just before the darkness swallowed.
Everything whole, I saw it a figure tall still half of
obscured by the trees. It's head was slightly tilted.
Just enough to let me know. It was staring back at me.
A gloved hand dangled at its side holding the Bell which
swayed gently almost as if in greeting it raised the Bell
slowly and rang at once more. I dropped the curtain and
stumbled back my chest heaving. My phone slipped from my hand
and clattered to the floor. In the silence that followed.
I swore. I could hear it moving closer.
Clang, clang. Clang.
I didn't hate Christmas. Not exactly.
I just didn't see the point of it anymore.
All the forced Smiles, the garish lights the empty cheer
that buzzed under the surface like a blown out like bulb.
This year, I did what I always do when the holidays get too
loud. I grabbed my coat laced up my
boots and took off for the woods the air.
Bit hard, sharp and cold enough to stab through my layers.
The moon was full big and pale spilling silver light over
everything like a thin sheet of Frost.
I didn't need a flash light. The snow.
Did all the work glowing in the dark like it wanted to show off
out there, everything fell distant the carolers, the bells,
the endless home of humanity, The forest stretched on forever.
Each tree skeletonized by winter their spindly branches reaching
out like they wanted to snag me and pull me closer.
But I didn't mind. The quiet was nice at least at
first I was a mile in when I noticed the silence had changed,
it wasn't the usual quiet of Winter, the kind where the snow
swallows sound and leaves you walking through your own private
void. This was different heavy, the
kind of quiet that makes you realize.
Something's missing, no wind, no crunch of a squirrel, darting
across a branch, no owl, hooting somewhere.
Deep in the dark, it was as if the whole forest was waiting for
something. I kept walking kicking up little
flurries of snow with each step. It was fine.
I told myself it was fine but my hands were buried in my coat
pockets and they wouldn't stop flexing.
That's one. I saw them tracks.
At first, I thought they were dear Prince.
The kind that scattered across the snow like a child's game of
hopscotch, but the more I looked the less sense they made.
Each print was long like a stretched out foot but with
sharp clawed edges, digging deep into the snow worse.
Something had been dragging alongside them along Furrow that
cut through the snow unbroken, like, whatever left, the tracks
had been pulling something heavy behind it.
Stopped walking, the wind held its breath.
Just a bear. I whispered to myself my voice,
sounded too loud in the empty air and I hated how it wavered.
But Bears didn't leave tracks like these Bears.
Didn't pull things and these tracks were fresh too, fresh
sharp, edged and clear not softened or filled in by wind or
more snow. Whoever or whatever left them
wasn't far ahead. I should have turned back.
My gut told me to turn back. But I didn't, I kept walking the
farther, I went the stranger, the woods, felt the trees seemed
taller. Now, their limbs Twisted as
though, they'd grown in pain. My boots crunched louder against
the snow. Like, the sound was bouncing
back at me. Mocking me for being here.
I couldn't stop looking at the tracks, They veered off the path
and into the trees, where the darkness, thickened something in
me wanted to follow them. I didn't know why.
And then I saw it up ahead. Maybe 20 yards off the path,
something stood among the trees. At first, it was just a shape a
tall. Shadow two, still to be natural.
I squinted hoping my eyes were playing tricks.
That it was just an old tree or a fallen Branch perched at a
weird angle. But then it moved.
It stepped forward, just enough for the Moonlight to catch it.
I felt something cold curl around my chest and squeeze.
It wasn't a person though. It had the shape of one.
It was tall Too. Tall its head brushing against
the lower branches. And it was wearing something.
Read a coat, I thought at first, but as it moved again, I saw the
coat wasn't fabric. It was skin, tattered hanging
loose stitched together. Like an old rotting quilt
blackened fur clung to the edges and clumps matted with
something. I didn't want a name.
It dragged something behind it, a bag.
The things armed stretched impossibly long bony fingers
curled around the neck of the bag as it pulled it through the
snow, whatever was inside, right and shifted like it was still
alive. I heard it then a faint.
Muffled thud like fist, punching against fabric.
The shape stopped. And then it tilted its head.
It didn't tilt like a person. It was too sharp, too fast.
Like something had yanked. Its sideways, the motion sent a
ripple through its body. The loose skin shuddering in the
Moonlight, my legs locked. I couldn't move, I couldn't
breathe. I was sure that if I so much as
blinked, it would lunge at me, I could feel its gaze.
Even though I couldn't see its eyes, I knew it was looking at
me. Hello.
I choked out my voice cracked and the word tumbled out like a
mistake. Why the hell had I said that.
Why the hell was I still standing there?
The thing didn't speak, but it made a sound.
A low wheezing laugh bubbled out of it rattling like air.
Escaping a broken pipe. My body screamed at me to run
but I couldn't. I was rooted there watching as
it. Took a step toward me, its limbs
moved wrong. Jagged snapping Motions, like a
marionette with tangled strings, the bag scraped behind it,
leaving a dark streak in the snow.
The laugh came again. Louder, this time Wet guttural
hungry. Finally, my legs listened I
turned and ran the forest exploded around me.
The sound of my boots pounding against the snow.
My breath ragged and ripping from my chest behind me.
I could hear it coming. I didn't dare look back.
I could feel it gaining on me though.
Closing the space between us with each uneven, step my lungs
burned, my legs screamed, but I ran the path was gone.
Now, I didn't know where I was running, just that I had to get
away. Branches clawed at my face and
arms whipping against me as I barreled through the dark snow,
filled my boots, freezing my ankles but I didn't stop.
Somewhere behind me. The laughter.
Broke into a screech. Hi.
And shrill, like metal, grinding against metal.
I ran harder and then I tripped. My boot caught on something
buried in the snow and I went down hard iced tearing at my
Palms. As I hit the ground for a
second, the world went silent, except for my own gasping
breath. Then I heard it the scrape right
behind me. I turned my head and saw the
shadow. Looming closer, its ragged coat
flapping like wet leather, the bag right beside it twisting,
violently against the snow. I scrambled to my feet and
bolted again, the trees blurring around me, the path, the forest,
the Moonlight, everything dissolved, into a single thought
pounding through my head run. I don't know how long.
I ran time didn't exist anymore. Just the tearing in my lungs and
the sound of that thing behind me.
Scrape drag scrape drag every breath burned like fire.
My legs felt like dead weight, stiff with cold, my boots
slipping with every step as the snow got deeper, my brain.
Screamed at me to stop to hide to collapse to do something, but
I knew if I stopped, it would reach me.
I chanced a glance over my shoulder and regret punched me
Square in the gut, it was closer.
The figure that thing loomed larger than before its skin coat
flapping. Like it was alive clinging to
the wind and unnatural ways. The bag scraped alongside it
jerking and riding and I swore, I heard it scream from inside a
voice, a child's voice. Help me the words shattered me
my feet faltered just for a second, but that second was
enough to see the image in my mind, the bag shifting violently
as if someone something was fighting to get out.
I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.
I tore my gaze forward again. Squinting into the darkness.
The tree line had to be closed. I could see something ahead.
A faint glow. My brain latched onto it like a
lifeline. The road, it has to be the road,
the glow got brighter as I plowed through the underbrush,
my boots. Caught on roots and snowdrifts,
but I forced myself to push forward the scrape and dragged
behind me. Didn't stop.
If anything, it was faster. Now, pounding in rhythm with my
panicked heartbeat. And then I broke free.
The trees, spit me out onto an open field and I stumbled almost
falling flat on my face. The moon was glaring down at me,
making the snow blindingly bright, but I didn't care, I was
out. I turned breath clawing at my
throat, expecting to see it bursts Out of the Woods after
me. But it didn't it stood at the
edge of the forest, just beyond the tree line, it's long,
spinly, body still, and silent, The bag twitched one last time
before falling limp. The thing tilted its head again.
Watching me. Then slowly it stepped back into
the Shadows disappearing. Like it was part of the forest
itself. The silence returned, but it
didn't feel empty. It felt like it was listening, I
turned and bolted for the glow. A porch light.
Thank God a house on the other side of the field.
My legs screamed as I ran, but I didn't stop until I was pounding
on the door shouting for help. When the door finally opened, I
nearly collapsed inside. Gasping, shaking, and wild-eyed,
I didn't sleep that night, I locked every door pulled the
curtains tight and sat in the dark, with every light in the
house on I didn't look outside not once.
But as the hours dragged on I swore, I heard it again that low
wheezing laugh somewhere in the distance and a single knock at
the back door. There's something about going
back to your hometown. That makes everything feel
smaller, the streets, the trees, even the sky.
All of it seems like it's been put through a wash cycle and
shrunk just enough to feel foreign That's how it was.
Driving back to Ashford. It had been nearly a decade
since I had last been home, and even though I recognized every
cracked Road and sagging telephone pole, it felt like
looking at an old photograph. Familiar.
But off, Adam had been the reason I made the trip.
We'd stayed in touch calls on birthdays, a postcard every
Christmas, but life had pulled us in different directions.
So when he called and said he'd be in town for a week, we
decided to make it count. The plan was simple.
Relive some old memories drink more than we should and pretend
we weren't a couple of guys creeping toward middle age.
The first few nights were easy, we sat in his parents backyard,
beers in hand swapping stories that had worn smooth with time,
most of them revolved around the woods.
As kids, we practically lived out there, his family's Farm
bordered miles of forest and every weekend.
I'd bike over with my hand-me-down camping gear ready
to disappear until Sunday night. We built forts caught crawfish
and pretended. We were explorers charting
Uncharted Territory. It was freedom in its purest
form. It wasn't long before the
Nostalgia turned into a challenge.
We should go back. Adam said, his voice low almost
conspiratorial. He leaned back in his chair.
The firelight throwing Shadows across his face.
One Last Adventure. I laughed shaking my head.
We're not exactly 14 anymore. You realize we'd probably throw
our backs out trying to set up a tent.
We don't need tents. We can bring hammocks just like
the old days. Besides, it's just one night.
What's the worst that could happen?
It was the kind of logic that got us into trouble as kids and
it worked just as well. Now, the plan was set one night.
One night. We'd follow the old railroad
tracks, but this time we'd head West away from the routes.
We knew Adam called it exploring the unknown.
I call it a terrible idea but I agreed anyway.
The morning of the trip, my wife, Julie drove us to the drop
off point. The same spot we used as kids.
She made a show of rolling her eyes as we unloaded our gear.
U2 are ridiculous. She said, leaning out the car
window. Just don't come back with poison
ivy or broken bones. Yes, Mom, Adam called back with
a grin. She drove off leaving us alone
on the gravel shoulder. The tracks stretched ahead of
us. Rusted, and overgrown.
The forest, framed them like a tunnel.
And for a moment, it was easy to imagine.
We were kids again about to embark on some Grand Adventure.
Adam clapped me on the shoulder, ready, The day passed easily
enough. The tracks were the same.
As I remembered quiet remote and surrounded by trees.
So thick you could barely see the sky. we stopped now and then
poking around old bridges and overgrown clearings joking about
how out of shape we were Every so often we'd hear the faint
rustle of animals moving through the underbrush, but it was the
kind of sound. You don't think twice about when
you've spent enough time in the woods.
As the sun dipped lower, the tracks, let us into a denser
part of the forest. The trees.
Here were older their branches twisted like arthritic fingers.
The light filtering through was dim giving everything a muted,
grayish tint. Adam was a few steps ahead
humming some song. I didn't recognize when I
noticed the quiet, not the peaceful kind, but the kind that
presses down on you thick and heavy.
Even atoms seemed to notice his humming trailing off midnight.
Feels like we're in the middle of nowhere.
He said his voice a little too loud.
That's kind of the point, isn't it?
I replied trying to keep my tone light.
We picked a spot to camp just off the tracks in a small
clearing surrounded by narrowed trees, Adam unpacked his
hammock. While I said about Gathering
wood for a fire The ground was soft littered with Decades of
fallen leaves and the air smelled damp like rain, that
hadn't come yet. It should have been peaceful but
something about the clearing made me uneasy.
Maybe it was the way the trees seemed to lean inward.
Like they were closing us off from the rest of the world.
We didn't say much as we ate the Shadows stretching, long, and
thin as the light faded, Adam, finally broke the silence.
You think will find anything interesting tomorrow?
I Shrugged probably just more trees and tracks maybe an old
bridge if we're lucky. He nodded poking at the fire
with a stick. Its weird being out here again,
feels different, you know. I didn't answer there was no
point. He'd already put words to what I
was thinking the woods were the same or maybe we were not either
way the sense of Freedom we chased as kids was nowhere to be
found. What replaced?
It was something quieter something that crept in at the
edges of the firelight and stayed just out of sight.
By the time, we climbed into our hammocks, the fire was little
more than Embers. The forest wrapped around us,
thick and impenetrable, and I told myself that tomorrow would
feel different. tomorrow, we'd laugh about how paranoid we'd
been Tomorrow, we'd be back to our old selves.
But as I lay there, staring up at the black void where the sky
should have been, I couldn't help, but think of Julie's
parting words. Maybe we were ridiculous.
Maybe this was a mistake. I didn't say anything to Adam
though. He wouldn't have wanted to hear
it and truth be told. I didn't want to hear it either.
Morning came slower than I expected.
I don't think I ever truly slept.
Just floated in that in between place where you're aware of
every Creak and Shuffle around you.
Adam stirred, first stretching out of his hammock with a grunt
that sounded more like an animal than a man coffee.
He asked rubbing his face, we didn't have coffee.
Just a few protein bars and some water, which we ate in silence
while the Forest woke up around us.
The trees seemed less oppressive in the daylight though.
The Shadows still felt deeper than they had any right to be.
Adam was cheerful enough cracking jokes about how soft
we'd gotten since the old days? I tried to laugh along but my
mind kept drifting to the plan. The tracks, the unknown.
We packed up camp quickly, and got moving.
The railroad stretched on like an old scar through the forest,
the rails, buckled in places and almost entirely swallowed by
weeds. It felt like we were the first
people to walk this stretch in years.
The son, climbed higher warming, the air.
And for a while things felt almost normal.
Adam started humming again. Some off-key tune, I vaguely
recognized, but couldn't place. It echoed faintly through the
trees. Then the forest started to
change. The trees grew taller and closer
to gather their branches twisting together.
Like a tangle of wires overhead. The air smelled heavier thick
with the scent of damp Earth and something faintly sour.
The ground along the tracks became uneven with chunks of
rusted, rail jutting up at odd angles.
I almost tripped more than once. Adam stopped humming.
We were rounding a Bend, when the tracks opened in to a small
clearing. It wasn't much just a break in
the trees where the sun cut through and pale watery shafts,
but in the middle of it was something we didn't expect.
A building or what was left of one.
It looked ancient though. I couldn't have told you how
long it had been there. The walls were Stone moss,
covered and crumbling with vines twisting through every crack.
The roof had partially collapsed and Jagged beams jutted out,
like broken ribs. There were no windows.
Just narrow slits. That might have been for arrows
or light though. Both seemed impossible now.
It wasn't large, no more than 20 feet across, but it felt wrong
two solid for something. So decayed to intentional, is
that a church, Adam asked his voice.
Barely above a whisper, Maybe I said though, the word felt
inadequate. Churches are supposed to feel
welcoming, even the old ones. This didn't we moved closer?
Not because we wanted to, but because standing still felt
worse as we approached the smell hit us.
It wasn't wrote exactly. But something sharp like iron
and Rain soaked wood. I looked at Adam, but he was
already stepping toward the opening word door might have
once been Adam I called out he didn't stop inside.
The building was dark, the floor was littered with debris
Splinter's of wood fragments of stone and what looked like
shards of pottery. Symbols were carved into the
walls, crude shapes. That reminded me of stick
figures but stretched and distorted. circles overlapped in
ways, that made no sense their edges Jagged and uneven, Who the
hell would build something out here?
At a masked running his hand over one of the carvings Nobody
in their right mind. I muttered glancing around. the
air felt cooler inside but it didn't bring relief it clung to
the skin thick and still Adam bent down brushing leaves off,
something half buried in the dirt.
He pulled up what looked like a piece of bone, but it was too
small to be anything human. Animal.
He asked holding it out. Probably I said though, I wasn't
sure I didn't want to be sure. Well, that's creepy.
Adams said, tossing the bonus side.
Let's get out of here before we find something worse.
I didn't argue. We stepped back into the
clearing and I realized I had been holding my breath.
Adam tried to laugh shaking his head.
Like it was all some kind of joke.
Bet this place has some wild ghost stories.
He said, forcing a grin. But the grin didn't last, we
stood there for a moment, looking back at the ruin.
The forest around. It seemed darker the light from
the clearing barely touching the edges.
I didn't want to turn my back on it but we did anyway.
We made Camp again before nightfall.
This time, a little farther off the tracks in a spot where the
trees were thinner. Adam cracked open a bag of Trail
Mix and tried to lighten the mood with a story about a girl.
He dated in college. I have listened nodding in the
right places but my eyes kept drifting toward the direction of
the tracks. Toward the ruin.
The night settled over us quickly.
The darkness swallowing the last bits of daylight.
Adam climbed in to his hammock and soon his breathing evened
out. I stayed awake longer staring at
the faint glow of our fire and listening to the forest.
Somewhere out there a branch snap'd.
Then another, it wasn't an animal.
It was too. Deliberate, two steady.
I didn't wake Adam. Not yet instead, I just lay
there watching the fire die waiting for the forest to close
in around us. The fire had burned itself out
hours ago, leaving only a few glowing Embers that did little
to fight the creeping cold. I hadn't slept my ears straining
against the quiet listening for whatever, had snapped, those
branches. Every rustle of leaves.
Every shifting Shadow felt Amplified.
My hammock swayed slightly as I adjusted myself gripping The
Edge. Like I might spring out at any
moment. Adam was still snoring lightly,
blissfully unaware. I envied him.
He'd always been better at brushing things off at
convincing himself. There was nothing to worry
about. I thought about waking him but
what would I say? Hey there's something in the
woods. Probably just an opossum but
it's creeping me out. He laughed me off or Worse.
Dismiss it entirely and roll back over.
A sound broke the quiet. Not an animal cry or The Whisper
of wind. It was lower rhythmic chanting.
I froze every muscle tightening as I listened.
The sound carried from the direction of the tracks.
It wasn't loud. Not at first but it grew
steadily. The Rhythm was unsettling words.
If they were words, I didn't recognize.
They flowed like water over rocks, uneven and Jagged yet.
Strangely deliberate. Sliding out of my hammock as
quietly as I could, I crouched low near Adams.
I nudged his shoulder Whispering his name, he groaned half asleep
and I shook him harder. Adam wake up.
What's your deal? He mumbled sitting up and
rubbing his eyes. Then he stopped his head.
Tilting slightly hearing it too. That I whispered, what is that?
He didn't answer. The chanting was louder.
Now coming from the direction of the ruin.
It was steady and Relentless almost mechanical in its Rhythm.
But layered there were too many voices for it to be just a
couple of people. They overlapped in a way that
felt wrong. We should check it out.
At Adam said, his voice low, you're out of your mind.
I hissed, we're not going anywhere near that.
He was already pulling on his boots.
It could be kids messing around or some weird church group.
Let's just see what's going on against every Instinct I had.
I followed him. There wasn't time to argue and
staying behind felt worse. We crept through the trees,
sticking close to the thicker Shadows.
The chanting grew louder, with every step, cutting through the
night, like a blade. When we reached the top of the
hill, overlooking the tracks. We saw it.
The ruin was lit from within a flickering, Golden Glow that
danced out through the broken slits, in the stone walls.
The voices Rose and fell in unison.
Now, a chaotic Harmony that seemed to pull at the air
itself. Adam crouched beside me, his
eyes locked on the scene below. What the hell is this?
He muttered. I didn't answer, I couldn't.
Figures moved inside the ruin, their Shadows twisting
unnaturally against the walls. They moved as if they weren't
entirely in control of their own limbs stiff, deliberate and
jerky all at once. One figure stepped into view
tall broad with a strange mask covering their face.
The Mask looked carved, almost tribal with sharp angles and
Hollow eyes. They raised something over their
head, a bundled in what looked like cloth and Twine.
The chanting stopped abruptly replaced by a long guttural,
moan that seemed to Echo from the forest itself.
I grabbed atoms. Are we need to leave now?
He nodded for once, not arguing and we began backing away slowly
as we moved my foot hits. Something solid.
I looked down in nearly screamed a small wooden carving in the
dirt at the same Jagged symbols. We'd seen on the ruins.
It looked freshly made as though someone had placed it there
deliberately The chanting started again, louder.
This time. It was coming from more than one
direction now. They're outside, Adam whispered.
Their surrounding us. Panic, surged through me.
And we bolted no longer caring about staying quiet.
We ran back toward our camp, tripping, over roots and tearing
through branches behind us lights.
Flickered through the trees moving erratically.
As if whoever carried them was searching or chasing, At the
campsite we didn't stop to gather our things.
Adam grabbed his flash light, and I snatched the map, we
sprinted toward the tracks, using them as a guide.
The lights were closer. Now bobbing and weaving in a way
that didn't make sense. Shadows danced, wildly some
tall. Some impossibly Thin all of the
moving far faster than we were. What do they want?
Adam yelled. His voice hoarse just keep
running. I shouted back.
The chanting rose again, overlapping in chaotic filling
the air until it felt like it was pressing into my skull.
The forest blurred around us, the trees seeming to fold in on
the cells. My legs burned, my lungs.
Screamed. But I didn't dare stop.
We stumbled onto a gravel road, the sudden openness
disorienting. I looked back expecting to see
the lights bursting from the tree line, but they stopped just
short of it. The figure stood at the edge,
their Lantern swaying, they didn't cross.
Adam flagged down a passing truck.
Waving his arms frantically. The driver a middle-aged man
with a face like leather hesitated before Unlocking The
Doors. You boys?
Look like you've seen a ghost. He said, as we scrambled in Dr.
Adam barked just drive. As the truck pulled away, I
turned to look out the back window.
The Figures were still there. Watching one by one.
They raise their lanterns High. The light flickering like fire,
then they turned and disappeared into the trees.
The driver dropped us at a gas station.
In the next town over. We didn't talk, we didn't need
to whatever we had stumbled into.
It wasn't over, not for them, not for us. the road narrowed as
the trees pressed in closer, their thick trunks Rising like
ancient sentinel's, the gravel crackled under the tires and
every bump jostled our gear, in the backseat, Meghan sat beside
me scrolling through her phone even though the service had
disappeared miles ago. The map rested crumpled on her
lap its edges damp from being shoved in the cup holder.
This is it. I said glancing at the GPS.
One last time before it froze. The sign for the black Hollow
Trailhead had been little more than a weathered plank nailed to
a tree half hidden by Moss. It could have been a trap for
all we knew but the map and the directions matched Megan tossed
her phone into the bag at her feet and leaned forward,
scanning the woods like she was searching for something
specific. Feels a little.
Empty out here. She said, That's the idea, isn't
it? I tried to sound casual but
there was something about the Stillness that made me grip the
wheel tighter. We passed an RV parked crookedly
on the roadside. It's paint was peeling and one
of its Windows had been patched with duct tape.
Outside. Stood two people.
Both tall both watching. The man's jeans were phrased and
his T-shirt hung loose, like it hadn't been washed in weeks.
The woman Barefoot clutched. What looked like a mug?
Neither waived smiled or even moved.
They just stood there eyes tracking our car as it rolled by
I nodded a quick polite acknowledgment.
Megan stiffened beside me but didn't say anything until we
were well past, they look like they've been waiting for
something. She said Yeah, probably waiting
for someone to teach them how to use shampoo.
I joked hoping to lighten the mood.
She didn't laugh. In the rearview mirror, the RV,
shrank into the distance, but the figures remained.
Even through the haze of dust I could see them perfectly still
the trailhead appeared minutes later a clearing.
Barely big enough to fit two cars though.
Ours was the only one there. I parked crookedly under a
sagging fur, branch and killed the engine.
The silence that followed was startling, no distant traffic,
no home of power lines, nothing but the occasional rustle of
leaves. Megan hopped out, stretching her
arms over her head. As I grabbed our packs from the
trunk. She was already tying her boots
when I swung my bag over my shoulder.
We better get moving. She said, it's a long hike.
The trailhead looked on touched, the dirt was smooth, no
Footprints or tire tracks, other than ours.
A weathered sign marked the start of the black Hollow Trail,
its letters, barely visible beneath Decades of grime.
I caught a whiff of something faint like old firewood in wet
soil as we stepped into the forest.
The first stretch of the hike was uneventful though.
The trees seemed closer together than they should have been their
Roots? Clawed at the trail, like the
forest itself didn't want anyone passing through.
Meghan was ahead, snapping pictures with her camera?
The faint, click of the shutter, broke the quiet, every few
minutes. Look at this.
She said pointing at a tree with deep gouges carved into its
bark. Bear marks.
Could be I said though the cuts didn't look like any.
I'd seen before two straight two deliberate.
I took a picture of it with my phone.
Before we moved on, by the time, we reached the halfway point,
the forest seemed to deepen the light dimmed.
Even though the sun was still high, Megan had stopped taking
pictures her Pace slowing as we wound our way up a narrow
incline. The air was heavy or here, and
every step felt louder than it should have.
You hear that she asked suddenly pausing mid-step.
I stopped too straining to catch whatever she was talking about
but there was nothing, no birds, no wind, not even the home of
insects just silence like the forest was waiting for something
to happen. Probably just a quiet stretch.
I said though, I kept glancing back over my shoulder as we
moved on. The cabin came into view, just
as my legs started to ache. It was smaller than I'd expected
tucked into a clearing with no real path leading to it.
The wood was weathered, its edges softened by years of
exposure, a rusted axe stuck out of a Chopping Block near the
fire, pit surrounded by splinters of wood home.
Sweet home. Megan said though her voice
lacked its usual enthusiasm. We explored the cabin quickly.
One room, a bunk against the wall a stove in the corner and a
table thick with dust. There was no sign of anyone
having been here recently. I tried to tell myself that was
a good thing. We set up camp outside opting to
build a small fire rather than rely on the dark interior of the
cabin. As we cooked dinner, the forest
seemed to shrink in around us. Shadows stretched farther than
they should have and the silence heavier now.
Even the crackle of the firewood sounded muted.
Megan stared into the Flames. Her knees.
Pulled up to her chest. What do you think's out here?
She asked her voice low. Probably just deer and raccoons.
I said, though, I kept the acts within Arms Reach.
When the fire died to Embers, we retreated to the cabin.
The wooden bunk Creek under our weight as we settled in for the
night outside the forest held its breath waiting.
And for some reason, I locked the door, it wasn't much, but it
was better than nothing. I woke up in the dark, the fire
had long since burned out leaving only the soft hum of the
forest outside. At first, I thought it was Megan
shifting on the bunk beside me, but she was still her breathing,
slow and steady. Then it came again, a sound so
faint. I wasn't sure.
I had heard it at all. A dull rhythmic tapping.
It wasn't coming from inside that much was clear.
The noise seemed to drift from just beyond the cabin walls.
My mind immediately jumped to the rationale, maybe a branch
swaying in the wind a raccoon nosing around for scraps.
I told myself it was nothing worth worrying about.
But it didn't stop. Megan stirred.
Her eyes flickering open. What is that?
She whispered her voice barely Audible.
Probably an animal. I said though, even as I said
it, I didn't believe it animals. Don't knock The tapping shifted
sharper. Now, like something hard
striking would It echoed through the silence methodical and
deliberate. I swung my legs off the bunk and
crept to the window. The glass was fogged from our
breath and the night outside was a wall of black, whatever was
out there, it was hidden just beyond the reach of the cabins
dim Lantern light. Megan sat up pulling the blanket
tighter around her shoulders. Don't go out there.
She said, her tone more of a command than a plea.
I hesitated part of me wanted to ignore the sound altogether.
But curiosity is a stubborn thing.
I grabbed the flash light from my pack and the knife I'd
brought for slicing firewood. It wasn't much, but it felt
better than nothing. When I cracked the door, open
the cold air, rushed in sharp and biting, the flash lights
beam cut through the dark. Illuminating the clearing the
wood pile. Stood undisturbed The fire pit
was empty, nothing but Ash and stones for a moment, I thought
the sound had stopped, then it came again, louder, this time
from the direction of the trees behind the cabin, the flash
light trembled in my grip, as I turned toward the sound.
The beam landed on the chopping block, the axe was gone.
I froze scanning the ground for any sign of what had taken it.
The dirt was Disturbed, a thin line of overturned Earth leading
into the forest. It wasn't the chaotic mess left
by animals. This was deliberate almost
surgical. I couldn't see where it ended.
Meghan appeared in the doorway behind me.
Her voice low. What is it?
The axe, I said pointing to the empty block, she didn't reply, I
didn't need her to her silence spoke volume.
I locked the door. The moment we were back inside.
The latch was flimsy, little more than a token barrier, but
it was all. We had Megan sat at the table
staring at her hands. As I extinguished the lantern,
the dark felt safer somehow, like it might hide us from
whatever was out there. The taping didn't return
instead. A new sound replaced it,
something dragging across the ground.
It was fainted first. A soft scrape That Grew louder
with every pass. I imagine the acts its blade,
carving shallow trenches in the dirt.
As it was pulled closer and closer.
Then just as suddenly as it started, the sound stopped.
Megan, and I sat in the dark, neither of us daring to move.
Minutes passed, maybe hours. The silence pressed down thick
and suffocating until it was broken by the last thing I
expected laughter. It was distant but unmistakable
a low guttural chuckle warped and uneven like someone trying
to imitate human Joy but getting it wrong.
The sound twisted, something deep inside me and I gripped,
the knife tighter, my Knuckles white Megan whispered.
It's not an animal. I didn't respond.
What could I say? She was right.
The laughter grew stretching into something.
Almost melodic before fading again into the quiet.
I thought it was over, but then came another sound close closer
this time footsteps, slow, deliberate, and heavy they
crunched through the underbrush just beyond the cabin walls.
Whatever was making them wasn't in a hurry, it stopped just
outside for a moment. I thought it might try the door
but nothing happened. It stayed there unmoving, its
presence await in the air. neither of us, slept after that,
We sat huddled on the bunk waiting for the first traces of
dawn to creep through the cracks in the cabin walls.
Every Creak of the wood, every sigh of the wind kept us on
edge, but the door never opened and the laughter didn't return.
When the Sun finally Rose, its Pale Light spilling across the
clearing, I stepped outside. The axe wasn't there.
The trail of disturbed, dirt led into the trees disappearing
among the Shadows. But that wasn't what stopped me
in my tracks. The word run had been carved
into the cabins wall its letters deep in Jagged but beneath it
the ground was littered with fresh splinters of wood as if
someone or something had hacked at the wall repeatedly, before
Vanishing Into the Night. Meghan, stepped out behind me
and I heard her gasp. We need to go.
She said her voice shaking. She didn't need to tell me
twice. We packed quickly.
Every sound making us Flinch by the time, we set off down the
trail. I was glancing over my shoulder.
Every few steps half, expecting to see something watching us
from the edge of the woods and maybe something was The cabin
looks smaller in the morning, light as though it had shrunk
overnight. The carved word, run glared back
at us from the wall each Jagged letter Stark and undeniable.
Meghan was already shouldering her pack when I finished tying
my boots. Neither of us, spoke about the
gouges or the splinters scattered below them.
We didn't need to, it was time to leave.
The forest seemed denser. Now the trees crowding, the
trail in a way that made the path feel unfamiliar.
We moved quickly, the steady crunch of our boots, breaking
the heavy silence. My eyes darted from side to side
scanning the Shadows between trunks for any flicker of
movement. The sunlight barely touched the
ground here, leaving pockets of Darkness, that felt too deep for
the time of day. Megan walking ahead of me
suddenly stopped her hand. Shot up to Signal me and I
froze. She was staring at something up,
the trail her breath catching an uneven bursts.
I stepped up beside her following her gaze.
There hanging from a low. Branch was a crude figure made
of twigs. It was tied to gather with what
looked like strands of Vine its arms, outstretched like a
warning. The head was wrapped in a tangle
of what could have been dried grass or hair.
The figure swayed gently though there was no Breeze.
What the hell is that? Megan whispered, her voice
trembling Keep moving, I said gripping her arm and urging her
forward. My voice sounded steadier than I
felt. I didn't want to stay long
enough to think about who or what had left it there.
We pressed on, but the forest felt different now like it had
woken up. The trail Twisted sharply
climbing a narrow Ridge, the slope was slick with moss and
every step felt precarious. The Twig.
Figure was still in my mind, it's lifeless form at etched
into my thoughts. I glanced over my shoulder
repeatedly half expecting to see it.
Dangling behind us again. We reached the top of the Ridge
and stopped to catch our breath. That's when I noticed it.
Fresh scratches carved into the bark of a nearby tree.
They were deep in deliberate forming a jagged pattern that
didn't resemble anything natural.
They were new. The wood underneath pale and raw
their following us Megan muttered.
Her voice barely Audible I didn't answer what could I say
the marks were evidence enough? We started down the other side
of the ridge moving faster. Now our steps almost frantic.
The sound of our breathing, filled the narrow, Corridor of
trees, the trail leveled out, but the tension didn't ease
every so often I spotted more signs branches, snapped at odd,
angles, Stone stacked, and unnatural piles and scratches
like the ones we'd seen before it was as though someone or
something was leaving a trail just for us.
Megan stopped again and this time she didn't say anything.
She simply pointed, Up ahead. Another twig.
Figure hung from a brand, this one larger and more intricate.
Around it smaller figures dangled like ornaments, their
tiny forms spinning lazily in the still air.
We're close to the car. I said trying to inject
confidence into my tone just keep going.
She nodded her eyes fixed on the ground, as we pushed past the
Macabre display, the trail straightened.
And for the first time I saw the break in the trees, that
signaled, the parking area relief surged, but it was
short-lived, The car was still there, but it wasn't untouched.
The driver's side window had been shattered shards of glass
scattered across the ground. Blood smeared the windshield and
thick uneven. Streaks perched on the hood was
a severed deer's head, its eyes, clouded its mouth open in a
grotesque snarl, Flies buzzed around it.
Their whom filling the air like static?
Meghan, let out a strangled gasp.
Her hand flying to her mouth. I stepped forward cautiously
scanning. The surrounding trees, nothing
moved, but the weight of unseen eyes pressed down on us.
Get in. I said my voice tight were
leaving. We threw our packs into the
trunk and climbed in careful to avoid the glass.
The engine roared to life shattering the silence.
I reversed quickly. The tires skidding on loose
gravel the deer's head rolled off the hood with a wet thud
disappearing into the underbrush.
As we sped down, the dirt road, Megan Twisted in her seat, her
eyes locked on the rear view. Mirror is someone back there.
She asked her voice cracking. I didn't want to look but I did.
Through the swirling Haze of dust a figure stood in the
middle of the trail. It was too far to make out any
details but it Stillness was unnerving.
It didn't move as the car sped away.
Its shape Fading Into the dust like a mirage.
We didn't stop until we reached the highway where civilization
felt close enough to touch. At the first gas station, I
cleaned the car as best. I could wiping the blood from
the windshield with shaking hands.
Megan stayed inside her face pale.
Her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
When we finally reached home we didn't talk about what had
happened. We didn't unpack the gear for
days. Leaving it untouched in the
trunk like it might contaminate the house.
Even now, the memory of The Twig figures, the laughter and that
silent figure on the trail clings to me.
I know will never go back. Some places aren't meant to be
explored. Some things are better left
alone. The cabin phone rang late
cutting through the quiet like a blade.
A last-minute client. My boss said a guy named Victor.
He wanted to go to a glacial Basin tucked away.
So deep in the wilderness it barely existed on most Maps.
Late November was a strange time for a trip like that but I
agreed work was work. And people hired guides like me
because they couldn't or wouldn't Venture into the wild
alone. Victor was waiting the next
morning at the trailhead. He didn't look like much grayish
hair weathered face, plain jacket, but something about him.
Pulled at me like a rock caught in a boot.
His handshake was firm but too quick like he wanted to get past
introductions and start walking. Will stick to your pace.
I told him, he only nodded his eyes already fixed on the path
ahead. The forest was unusually still.
No birds. No wind, just the crunch of
boots on cold Earth. Victor walked a few Paces behind
silent except for his footsteps. Now and then I glanced back to
check on him. he didn't seem tired but his gays wasn't on the
trail, it roamed the trees like he was scanning for something
only he could see When I asked if everything was.
All right, he just mutter fine and wave me forward.
By midday the silence was pressing down on us.
We stopped at a clearing for lunch.
I unwrapped a sandwich, but Victor pulled out some food of
his own neatly wrapped in wax paper.
He ate methodically almost reverently, like each bite was
part of some ritual. I offered him some of my jerky
he shook his head without looking up nearby.
I noticed deep gouges in a tree. Trunk not claw marks two
straight for that. I pointed them out.
See those looks like someone brought a blade out here.
Victor glanced at the marks his face unreadable.
They've been here longer than you think he said in went back
to eating. We pressed on the trail winding
steeper and narrower as the day wore on.
The higher, we climbed the more, the forest began to change.
The trees thinned their branches Twisted as if trying to Claw at
the sky. A grey Mist crept in blurring
The Horizon, I kept my eyes on the path focused on each step
behind me, Victor's Rhythm, didn't falter.
It was steady deliberate. As though, he knew the way
better than I did, as we neared the base in, I heard something
strange. A low rhythmic sound almost like
a distant chant I stopped straining to place it.
Victor came up beside me, his face calm, but intense. it's
closer now, he said, What's closer?
I asked but he just kept walking the Basin opened up before a
suddenly Stark and Bear. The ground was uneven patches of
frost crunching underfoot. At its Center, stood a cluster
of stones piled haphazardly but unmistakably deliberate.
They were not natural. Something about their
Arrangement was wrong though. I couldn't say why.
The air around them, felt heavier colder.
Victor stepped past me his focused on the stones.
Stay here. He said his voice softer now,
but commanding. Are you sure?
Stay he didn't look back. I stood Frozen watching as he
approached the stones. He knelt before them his hands
brushing their rough surface, his lips.
Moved forming words. I couldn't make out The air grew
colder, still and a low hum began to rise, vibrating through
the ground and into my bones. It wasn't just a sound.
It was something else. Something alive.
Victor's. Murmurs turned to Sharp guttural
cries. He threw his head back, his face
contorted but it wasn't pain. It was something worse.
Shadows began to shift around the stones like smoke coiling
Against the Wind. They moved unnaturally defying.
The Stillness of the basin I took a step back, then another
my boots slipping on the frost. Victor, I called out.
But he didn't turn. His voice Rose to a scream, a
sound. That didn't belong to any man.
The Shadows, thickened reaching toward him.
That was enough. I turned and ran the base in
disappearing behind me as I barreled through the forest, the
trail. I'd known for years Twisted in
ways. I didn't recognize the trees
pressing closer with every step. The only thing that kept me
moving was the certainty that I didn't want to know what was
behind me. When I finally broke through to
the trailhead, I doubled over gasping for air.
The silence was back deeper than before, like the forest itself
was holding its breath. I glanced over my shoulder but
the woods behind me were empty. Victor hadn't followed it was
late when the knock came, too late for neighbors, too loud for
anything. Casual I froze halfway to the
sink, my plate, still in my hand.
Three sharp wraps, followed more insistent this time, whoever it
was they were not leaving. I set the plate down wiping my
hands on my jeans, as I moved to the door.
Through the people, I saw two men in dark suits.
Both stood stiffly their expressions flat but serious
Something about their presence unsettled, me opening the door,
a crack. I kept my hand on the edge ready
to slam it if needed. Can I help you?
One of the men taller with clothes cropped, hair, flashed a
badge. Homeland Security.
He said, are you? He said my name with practice
Precision like he'd rehearsed it.
I nodded slowly. What's this about?
The second man shorter but stockier leaned forward, we need
you to come with us for questioning.
It's a matter of National Security.
National Security. I wanted to laugh but their
faces made it clear. This wasn't a joke.
I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about.
It's urgent. The tall one said you can gather
your things but we need to leave now.
They won't asking. Their car.
A sleek black SUV was parked out front engine idling, I grabbed
my jacket and phone, my stomach nodding tighter with every step.
They didn't speak as we drove their silence more oppressive
than any interrogation. We pulled up to an unmarked
building. A low concrete structure, that
looked like it belonged in a cold war movie Inside.
They led me to a small room with bare walls and a buzzing
fluorescent light. A metal table and two chairs sat
in the center. It smelled faintly of bleach.
One agent stayed with me while the other left the remaining,
man, the taller one gestured for me to sit.
I did though the chairs cold metal made me flinch.
He dropped a thick folder on the table.
It's Corners warned, and slit into the seat across from me.
Do you know why you're here? His voice was steady but his
eyes never left mine. No idea.
I said trying to sound calmer than I felt He opened, the
folder pulled out a photograph and placed it in front of me.
The man in the picture was sharp featured with dark hair and an
intensity that was hard to miss. Do you recognize this man?
I stared at the photo shaking my head.
No. He studied me his gaze hard.
Then he reached into the folder and pulled out another
photograph. This one stopped me cold, it was
Victor but not the Victor. I remembered this man looked
younger. His face less weathered his hair
darker. The eyes though, they were the
same unreadable and piercing. That's him.
I said, pointing to the second photo that's Victor.
The agent exchange to glance with his partner, who had
re-entered the room silently. They didn't look surprised if
anything they looked like they'd expected it.
Tell us everything, the tall agent said leaning, forward
start from the beginning. I did.
I told them about the hike, the Basin, the stones, and the whom
I left out the Shadows. How could I explain that without
sounding insane. But even without those details,
their questions became sharper more pointed as if they were
testing my story for cracks. Did he say why he wanted to go
to the Basin? The shorter agent asked?
No, I said he just said it was where he needed to be.
Did you notice anything unusual about the site?
The tall one pressed? I hesitated then mentioned the
arrangement of the stones. It didn't look natural, it felt
wrong. Like it wasn't supposed to be
there. They exchanged another glance.
This time there was something like unease in their
expressions. What happened after?
He reached the stones, the shorter agent asked?
I hesitated again, my Palms sweating, he knelt in front of
them started, muttering something, then The are changed.
It got colder heavier. and there was this sound like a hum, but
deeper, It wasn't. I stopped myself.
I didn't want to say what I was thinking.
It wasn't what the tall agent asked.
It wasn't normal. I said finally.
For a moment, neither of the spoke.
Then the shorter agent, leaned back, Crossing his arms, and
after that, he screamed, I said my voice barely above a whisper,
not like a person, it sounded different and then I ran, Did he
follow you? The tall agent asked?
No. They didn't ask anything else
for a while. The shorter agent, stood and
left leaving me alone with the tall.
One. He didn't speak.
He just stared at me. His expression unreadable.
When the shorter agent returned, he handed a slip of paper to his
partner who read it and then tucked it into the folder.
He closed it. Stood and said that's all for
now. Thank you for your cooperation.
That's it. I asked stunned.
You're not going to tell me what's going on.
The tall agent glanced at his partner, then back at me, if you
see Victor again, do not approach him.
Call this number immediately, he slid a business card to cross
the table. They drove me home without
another word. As I stepped out of the car, the
taller agent, leaned out the window. you might hear from us
again, he said, That the SUV pulled away.
Leaving me standing in the cold, Inside.
I locked the door and sank into a chair.
The card still in my hand. I stared at it for what felt
like hours the name and number swimming in my vision.
Somewhere outside a sound drifted, through the trees, low
steady and familiar. I told myself it was the wind
but I didn't sleep that night. The morning had started like any
other with the usual routine of packing, gear and
double-checking supplies at the trailhead, the forest was quiet,
damp from a recent rain and the smell of wet Earth clung to the
air. I was supposed to be alone that
day. Guiding no one just doing
maintenance checks on the trails.
That changed when the pickup truck pulled into the empty lot.
Coughing out a man who looked as though, he'd wandered off a city
street by mistake He stepped out slowly his framed thin and stiff
dressed in clothes that didn't belong together like he'd thrown
on whatever was closest without caring.
If it fit His face was pale, his dark eyes darting from the
parking lot to the surrounding trees as if he were scanning for
something. I stayed by my pack giving him a
polite nod while trying to figure out what had brought him
here. Paul, he said, abruptly
introducing himself as he approached.
His voice cracked slightly like it hadn't been used much lately.
The booking must have come through, while I was already on
the road, not ideal, but I wasn't about to turn someone
away without a good reason. Besides I dealt with nervous
types before maybe he just needed some fresh air and quiet
to get his head on straight. the trail started gently winding
through dense undergrowth and towering Maples, The rain had
left the ground soft and each step sent up a faint squelch.
I tried to make small talk a little Icebreaker about the
weather. The trail conditions, but he
didn't bite. His responses were clipped
almost reluctant. I didn't press Some people
prefer to let the forest speak for them.
An hour in his Pace began to falter.
Paul's boots shuffled through the mud, his shoulders hunched,
every now and then. He glanced over his shoulder, I
scanning the trees, like he was expecting someone to come
barreling down the path. It wasn't unusual for new,
hikers to feel uneasy in the woods, especially out here where
the trees swallowed up, most of the light and the nearest phone
signal was Miles Away. Still something about his
movements not at me, not fear, exactly, but wearing this like,
he wasn't sure he was alone. When I suggested a break, he
dropped onto a moss covered log with a word. his hands trembled
as he fumbled with a water bottle, spilling some down, his
chin, as he drank I stood a few feet away leaning on my
trekking, pole watching him out of the corner of my eye.
He kept turning his head toward the trail.
We just walked his brow furrowed.
Everything. Okay, I finally asked.
He hesitated his gaze fixed on the forest before nodding?
Yeah, just Thought I heard something?
What kind of something? Paul shook his head muttering,
nothing, it's nothing his tone said otherwise I Let It Drop.
People hear all kinds of noises out here, branches cracking
squirrels rustling. Even the wind can sound off when
it snakes through the trees, the right way.
No point in spooking him more by making a big deal of it.
As we continued, the trail narrowed, the trees closing in
like they were hemming us in. Paul's footsteps, dragged, and
he fell a few Paces behind. I slowed my own stride, keeping
him in my peripheral vision. His muttering picked up again,
low and constant like he was whispering secrets to the
forest. The words didn't make sense,
just fragments broken phrases, that barely formed sentences.
Shouldn't be here. He mumbled once loud enough for
me to catch, not safe. Paul.
I said keeping my voice calm. If you're not feeling up to
this, we can head back. No shame in cutting a trip
short. He stopped his face tight with
an emotion. I couldn't quite place.
It's not me, he said quietly, it's them.
The words hung in the air like Mist, thick and heavy.
I opened my mouth to ask who he meant, but he was already moving
again faster. Now, as though, he could outrun,
whatever thought had just taken, hold of him.
I followed my own steps a little more deliberate my senses
sharpening. the deeper, we went the quieter, the forest became
the usual chatter of birds and insects was missing replaced by
an eerie Stillness. Even the breeze seemed to
hesitate, barely stirring the leaves overhead.
I glanced back at Paul who had started looking over his
shoulder, every few minutes. His hand hovered near the strap
of his pack like he was ready to grab something.
When we reached a clearing, I suggested, we stop for a proper
rest. He nodded absently leaning
against a tree at the edge of the open space.
His breathing was shallow, his hands.
Twitching. Like they couldn't find anything
steady to hold onto. I stayed back, giving him space
but my eyes kept drifting to the Shadows around us. the trees
beyond the clearing, felt closer than they should have the dark
spaces between them seeming to shift and deepen, if you look
too long, I told myself it was just the light playing tricks.
Branches moving in the breeze Shadows stretching as the sun
dipped lower. Paul muttered something.
I couldn't catch then flinched violently as a branch snapped
somewhere in the distance. I straightened instinctively
turning toward the sound, but saw nothing.
Just more trees. More Shadows.
You heard it. Paul said his voice.
Sharp almost accusing. Probably an animal I replied,
though. He even, I didn't quite believe
it. He shook his head, stepping back
toward the center of the clearing.
His eyes darted around the perimeter, his breaths coming
faster. It's watching.
He whispered. I opened my mouth to ask what he
meant, but his expression stopped me cold.
His eyes were wide his pupils blown out and his face was a
mask of pure unfiltered fear. He wasn't just scared.
He was convinced convinced that something was out there, just
beyond our sight. I gripped the handle of my
trekking pole tighter scanning the tree line again.
There was nothing out there, at least nothing I could see.
The clearing stretched before us bathed in fading daylight. the
Shadows of the trees stretched long and thin across the uneven
ground, making it feel more like a stage than a refuge, Paul
stood near the center, his back to me his head jerking and sharp
bird-like movements Every time I tried to catch his gaze, he
avoided it. His eyes locked on the darkening
Forest. Paul, I said, evenly stepping
closer. If something's out there, we
need to figure it out together. What are you seeing?
He didn't answer his shoulders trembling under his mismatched
jacket. His head twitched toward the
Treetops before dipping down like he was following something
invisible. The longer I looked at him.
The more I noticed the unnatural way he held himself Ridgid but
vibrating with nervous energy. he wasn't just scared, he was
unraveling I crouched by my pack pretending to adjust a strap
while keeping one eye on him. The silence in the clearing had
to wait to it pressing in on my ears.
Not even the faintest rustle of leaves broken it.
The air itself felt stale, unmoving like the forest was
watching and waiting. I told myself it was my
imagination. Just Paul's paranoia seeping
into my own thoughts. Paul suddenly spun around his
hands clawing at the straps of his backpack.
They're closed. He hissed his voice.
Barely above a whisper. His eyes darted back to the tree
line widening as if he'd spotted something whose clothes I asked
keeping my tone calm steady even though my pulse thumped hard in
my ears. They don't like being seen.
He said backing toward me but they're there.
I know there there. I scan the trees searching for
anything out of place. The forest had darkened, since
we'd stopped the Shadows blurring together into an
impenetrable wall. No movement, no sound, just us
and the suffocating quiet. Paul let out a low guttural
laugh that sent a spike of unease through me.
You don't see them, do you? That's the trick.
They don't let you see unless they want you to I stood keeping
my distance but ready to step in if he turned violent, Paul, you
need to stay with me. Let's get back to the trailhead.
Okay, we'll figure this out there.
He shook his head, his breath coming fast and shallow know too
late or Too Deep. It's already.
His voice cut off as his eyes snapped to something behind me.
I froze. My skin prickling.
Slowly, I turned half expecting to see nothing but trees, but
the clearing behind us felt different.
Now, the tree line seemed closer the Shadows between the trunks
deeper darker, I blinked hard shaking the thought.
Nothing had changed. It was the same Forest that had
been all day. Paul lunged past me suddenly
grabbing a broken Branch off the ground.
He clutched it in both hands like a weapon, his eyes darting
back and forth as though expecting an ambush.
His breathing was wild now uneven.
You have to leave. He said his voice shaking.
They don't want you just me. Paul listen.
They already took everything else.
He shouted swinging the branch wildly toward the trees.
You don't get it, you don't understand.
I step toward him hands raised. Okay, okay.
You're right. I don't understand, but I want
to help me understand his face Twisted.
The veins in his neck bulging, as his grip tightened on the
branch. For a moment, I thought he'd
swing at me instead of the forest, then he dropped the
branch and fell to his knees clutching his head with both
hands. They never leave he whispered.
Not once they see you. his words sent a chill Rippling through
me, but I pushed it aside, Whatever he was going through.
He needed help and he wasn't going to get it out here.
I crouched beside him, keeping my voice, low and steady.
Will figure this out together, but we need to move.
It's getting dark and we don't want to be out here when it
does. Paul's head, jerked up his eyes
locking on to mine for a split second.
They looked clearer more focused.
Like he was finally seeing me for the first time all day.
Then his expression shifted, his lips, pulled back into a Grimace
and he lunged The force of his body, knocked me, back onto the
ground, his hands. Clawed at my, shoulders his
fingers, digging into the fabric of my jacket, as he screamed,
it's you. It's you.
I twisted beneath him using every ounce of strength to push
him off. Paul stop.
What are you doing? His face hovered inches from
mine. His wild eyes searching me.
Like he was looking for something inside me.
Then he froze his head snapping toward the trees again, Slowly,
he straightened his hands falling limply to his sides.
He backed away from me his gaze fixed on a single point just
beyond the clearing. I scrambled to my feet.
My eyes following his At first, I didn't see anything.
Just the dense, tangle of trees in the fading light.
Then movement. A shape, barely distinguishable
from the Shadows shifting between the trunks.
It was too tall, too thin its limbs jerking on naturally as it
moved. My stomach tightened as I
realized it wasn't retreating. It was circling us.
Paul's breathing hitched, its here.
He whispered, then without warning, he ran straight toward
the figure. Paul.
I shouted my voice cracking with desperation.
He disappeared into the darkness before I could stop him.
I stood Frozen staring at the spot where he'd vanished, my
legs, trembling with indecision, a faint rustling, echoed from
the trees followed by a sound, that wasn't human, a low
guttural noise that made my knees buckle.
I turned and ran my only thought was to get away.
Whatever, Paul thought was out there, it was real and it was
coming for us both. Branches whipped at my face,
some caching skin other, snagging my jacket as I tore
through the forest. The undergrowth clawed at my
legs. Slowing me, just enough to make
every second feel like it's stretched forever.
Behind me something crashed through the brush heavy and
deliberate. It wasn't running, not exactly.
It didn't have to. I glanced back once, just once
The trees blurred, but I saw movement a shifting shape taller
than anything natural sliding between trunks with a Predators
precision. My lungs burned, as I pushed
myself harder, the uneven ground, threatening to trip me
at every step. My boot caught a root and I
stumbled forward barely managing to catch myself.
Before I fell face first into the mud There was no time to
stop. Ahead the forest opened into an
old Service Road, overgrown. But unmistakable Relief swept
through me at the sight of the gravel path, cutting through the
chaos of the Woods. My legs ached but I didn't slow
until I reached the center of the road spinning around to
face. The way I'd come nothing no
movement just the trees standing is still in silent as Stone.
I took a step back, then another, keeping my eyes on the
forest. My chest heaved and my hands
shook, but I refused to look away.
Whatever it was. I knew it hadn't left.
It was there hiding in the shadows watching. the silence
pressed against me, louder than any scream could have been I
turned and started down the road.
Keeping my Pace steady, even though every Instinct screamed
at me to run. Run running meant noise and
noise would bring it closer. The road curved gently leading
back toward the ranger station though.
I couldn't see it yet. All I could do was follow the
gravel and hope it wasn't still behind me.
Every step felt like a gamble. Each crunch of gravel too loud,
in the suffocating, quiet my eyes darted to the trees on
either side of the road searching for movement, for any
sign that it had followed me. The Shadows stretched longer.
Now merging into a murky wall of black as the sun dipped lower.
A sound broke, the silence faint, but distinct.
Branches. Snapping not far but not close
enough to see my heart. Pounded, as I quickened, my Pace
careful not to break into a run, the snapping continued slow and
deliberate like it was testing me waiting to see what I would
do. I gripped my trekking pole
tighter though. I knew it wouldn't do much.
Whatever was out there was bigger faster.
And smarter than anything, I'd encountered before my mind raced
running through options, I didn't have the road sloped
upward and I spotted the faint, outline of the ranger station
ahead. It's silhouette, barely visible
against the darkening sky. Relief threatened to pull me
into a Sprint, but I forced myself to keep walking to stay
steady. The sound of snapping.
Branches. Grew louder closer.
It wasn't hiding anymore. It wanted me to know.
It was there. The final stretch to the
station, fell endless, my legs ached with every step, my breath
shallow and uneven. When I reached the station, I
stumbled up the wooden steps and slammed the door behind me.
Locking it without hesitation. My back pressed against the
door. As I listened waiting my chest
heaving inside, the familiar home of the radio's and the
soft, Buzz of the overhead lights should have been
comforting instead, they fell distant.
Barely breaking through the fog of my panic.
One of the other rangers, a senior named Greg looked up from
his desk, his face, twisting and confusion.
Eric what the hell happened to you?
His eyes flicked, over my scratched face, torn jacket, and
muddy boots. I tried to speak but the words
stuck in my throat. After a moment, I managed to
rasp. Something's out there.
Greg frowned setting down his clipboard.
What do you mean something? I shook my head collapsing into
a chair Paul's gone. I said my voice barely above a
whisper, we were in the clearing and he he ran toward it Whatever
It Is Greg's frown deepened. Ran toward what was it an
animal? A Bear Mountain Lion know I
snapped louder than I intended. It wasn't an animal.
It was wrong big Too Tall. It doesn't move like anything
out there. It is still out there.
Greg, exchanged a look with another Ranger one that made it
clear. They thought I was on the verge
of losing it. All right, Greg said carefully,
his tone placating. We'll get a search party
together. See if we can find Paul.
I wanted to argue to tell them not to go back out there, but I
knew it wouldn't matter. They wouldn't believe me, not
yet. Greg's radio crackled.
A sharp burst of static that made me Flinch.
He grabbed it pressing the button.
Go ahead. A garbled voice came through
barely understandable. Something about strange tracks,
on the north side of the park claw marks on trees that didn't
match anything. Local Greg frowned.
Glancing at me. You hear that he asked.
Could be related. I didn't respond my eyes drifted
to the window, to the Dark Forest Beyond.
For a moment. I thought I saw something just a
flicker of movement between the trees.
My stomach Twisted. But I forced myself to look
away. Greg, clapped a hand on my
shoulder. Go clean up, he said will handle
it. I nodded, but his words didn't
reach me. The only thing I could think
about was Paul's face as he vanished into the Shadows. and
the thing that had been waiting for him there, that night as I
lay in my bunk, every Creak of the station seemed Amplified The
faint rustle of wind against the walls, made my pulse race and I
swore I could hear the crunch of gravel outside.
I squeezed my eyes shut trying to convince myself.
It was over that I was safe. But deep down, I knew better.
It wasn't over. It wasn't gone.
It had let me leave but I didn't believe for a second that it had
forgotten me. The air was crisp sharp enough
to bite at my lungs as I adjusted the straps of my pack.
After the long day, guiding hikers, I should have headed
back to the ranger station, but the Solitude of this lesser used
trail called to me. I had always liked the way this
path wound deeper into the forest.
Untouched and quiet. The light was fading quickly,
but I knew the terrain well enough to navigate it without
worry. My boots crunched against the
dirt as the canopy above deepened into Shadows.
It wasn't unusual for fallen branches or rocks to litter the
trail. So when I saw something ahead, I
didn't think much of it. At first, it was just another
shape against the undergrowth dark indistinct.
I slowed expecting it to come into Focus.
As I moved closer. It didn't.
I stopped scanning the ground, it wasn't a brand Branch.
The shape had too much weight to it too much Stillness.
A tangle of fabric stood out against the dirt.
I crouched low my heart drumming.
As I made out the Contours of a body someone was lying there.
Unmoving Dropping my pack. I moved fast skidding to my
knees beside him. His clothes were hiking gear.
The Warren, and smeared with Grime.
His face was pale and his breath came so faintly I had to lean
into catch it. When I pressed my fingers to his
wrist, the pulse was slow irregular.
His skin was unnaturally, cold clammy, like Stone left out in
the rain. Hey, I called trying to Rouse
him. My voice, sounded out of place
too loud against the muted hum of the woods.
There was no response. His head loud to the side limp,
a thin dark smear stained the dirt beneath him.
Its edges, dry and flaking. Blood.
I couldn't tell how fresh it was, but the sight of it, made
my stomach tighten. I scrambled for the radio strap
to my belt. Static greeted me when I keyed
the mic. Base.
This is Sarah. Do you copy the signal was dead?
My fingers tightened around the receiver knowing full.
Well, this part of the trail was a dead zone.
I tried again. Anyway, the static answering
like an insult useless. The nearest help was Miles Away
over terrain, that would take hours to cross even under normal
conditions. I glanced down at the man, his
breathing was shallow, his body barely responding leaving him
alone. Wasn't an option.
Okay, I muttered to myself grabbing my pack again.
With what little light remained. I pulled out a length of rope
and rigged together a makeshift sling.
It wasn't perfect but it would do.
His arms hung awkwardly, as I tied them across his chest, his
head slumping forward like a dolls.
Hoisting him onto my back was harder than I expected.
His weight bore down on my shoulders.
Dragging me toward the ground. I adjusted planting my feet wide
and bracing myself against the trails uneven surface.
My legs strained. As I took the first step, then
another Every inch felt like a victory.
As I started the long Trek toward the station.
The trail stretched ahead like a jagged wound, each turn,
shrouded in growing Darkness. My headlamp flicked on its beam,
cutting through the Shadows. But only just The man's body
pressed against me like dead weight, his breathing faint
against my ear. I tried not to focus on the
sensation of his cold skin, or the dampness that clung to his
clothes. The first half mile was brutal.
My muscles screamed with every step, the terrain uneven and
unforgiving. Rocks shifted underfoot and
Roots seemed to grab at my boots.
The quiet pressed in close now broken, only by the rasp of my
own breath and the rhythmic crunch of my steps.
And yet something else seemed to linger in the silence.
It wasn't loud more like a presence hanging at the edges of
my awareness. A soft Russell here, a broken
Branch there. The wind I told myself.
Just the wind threading its way through the trees.
But the thought didn't stop me from glancing over my shoulder.
My headlamps sweeping the trail behind me.
There was nothing there. Stay with me, I said aloud more
to fill the void than for his sake.
My voice sounded foreign two steady to match the pulse
hammering in my neck. We're getting out of here.
Just hang on. As the light fully disappeared,
the woods came alive in ways I didn't expect.
Sounds. I usually found comforting owls.
Calling insects buzzing felt oddly distant.
My focus narrowed to the patch of illuminated ground directly
in front of me. The trail dipped sharply, the
slope forcing me to adjust his weight, his head lulled again,
and for a moment, I thought I heard him murmur something.
I stopped in my tracks straining to listen.
Then just as quickly, the ambient noises returned his lips
hadn't moved. I realized my exhaustion was
playing tricks on me. I pushed forward willing my legs
to keep moving the trail Twisted ahead, leading into thicker
brush Shadows, clawed at the edges of my light, but I didn't
let myself slow step by step. I edged closer to where help
might be waiting The man on my back, gave another weak groan,
his body, twitching slightly, it was a small sound, but it was
enough to keep me moving. I didn't dare stop again the man
shifted on my back. Just a slight twitch, but it was
enough to throw off my balance for a step.
I stumbled forward catching myself on a jutting branch my
breath coming in Sharp gasps. The trail ahead looked endless,
a tangle of roots and rocks. Barely visible in the narrow
beam of my headlamp. Step was a battle.
My legs trembled. My shoulders screamed under the
weight and my grip on him slipped.
Every few minutes, forcing me to stop and readjust.
He groaned again. A low rasping noise that didn't
sound entirely human. You're going to be fine.
I said more to keep myself focused than for him.
His head sagged forward and I felt his breath against my neck
faint and uneven. I kept moving The forest around
me had changed the usual home of crickets.
And rustling, underbrush was patchy replaced by stretches of
Silence that seemed to stretch forever every so often I heard
something faint distant like a voice carried on the Wind.
A word here. A murmur there.
I told myself, it was nothing, just the wind sneaking through
the trees. The cold was worse.
Now, sinking deep into my bones, despite the sweat soaking
through my clothes. The Damp air clung to me, heavy
and sour and the Mist rolling along the ground.
Thickened with every step. It wasn't normal.
Missed too dense to deliberate coiling around my ankles like it
had purpose. The headlamps beam seem to
bounce off, it scattering light. Uselessly ahead of me a crack
sounded to my right. Sharp deliberate, I stopped
adjusting my grip on the man, as I turned my head, the beam swung
wildly catching nothing but trees and shadows.
I stayed frozen for a moment. Listening nothing followed Your
imagining things, I whispered to myself, but my legs felt heavy
as I forced them to move again. Each step felt like waiting
through something. Unseen.
Something that resisted every movement?
The man stirred against my back. His body jerking slightly, his
head lall to the side and I caught a glimpse of his face.
In the headlamps glow, his eyes were half, open the whites
bloodshot, and glassy, and his lips moved.
What I asked stopping again, my voice barely steady, he mumbled
something low guttural but I couldn't make out the words.
I leaned closer, hoping to catch it.
A sound behind me, stopped me cold.
It wasn't the rustle of leaves or the snap of a twig.
It was deliberate measured the unmistakable crunch of
footsteps. I froze, my grip tightening on
the man, the sound came again. Closer now I turned slowly
swinging the headlamp behind me. The light caught nothing but
shifting missed in the edges of trees.
My throat was dry as I force myself to speak.
Who's there? The words hung in the air on
answered the footsteps stopped. I didn't wait, I adjusted the
man's weight and started moving faster.
Ignoring the burning in my legs. My breathing was loud ragged and
the man on my back felt heavier with every step.
His body twitched. Again, more violently this time.
His arms crossed awkwardly against his chest jerked, free
of the sling. IDE tied, one hand brushing
against my shoulder. Stay still.
I snapped though. I knew he couldn't hear me.
The Mist seemed to close in tighter, curling around my
knees. Slowing my pace.
The Whispers returned louder now, but still impossible to
pinpoint. It wasn't just one voice.
It was a dozen overlapping fragmented.
I stopped again unable to ignore the sound.
Who's there? I shouted into the dark, my
voice swallowed, almost instantly by the forest.
Silence answered followed by another snap of a branch.
This time directly ahead of me the headlamp flickered.
I slapped it with my free hand, swearing under my breath and the
light steady. But in the moment of darkness, I
thought I saw movement just a Flicker at the edge of my
vision. When the light returned, there
was nothing there. The man shifted again his head
snapping upright. I nearly dropped him, startled
by the sudden movement, His body felt unnaturally rigid and his
breath was louder. Now, almost wheezing, I stopped
adjusting my grip and glanced down at his face.
His eyes were wide open staring, Straight Ahead unblinking his
mouth, moved forming words that didn't come out.
Then without warning a noise escaped him a low grating sound
that sent a shiver through me. It wasn't a groan or a gasp.
It sounded like something trying to speak but failing, the sound
too wet too deep. Hold on I muttered forcing
myself forward again. I didn't look back.
I didn't let myself the trail level down ahead and I nearly
cried out and relief. The ranger station couldn't be
far now. I forced my legs to move faster,
my steps uneven as The Whispers grew louder pressing against my
ears. They were clearer now.
Forming words, I couldn't quite understand.
The sound of footsteps returned closer than before matching my
pace. The headlamp flickered again and
this time, it died completely. I froze, swallowed by the dark.
My hand fumbled for the spare light in my pack.
But before I could reach it, annoys cut through the silence,
a voice low, and unmistakable. Whispered my name from somewhere
close to close. The man jerked against my back,
his head, snapping to the side. His voice joined the others
murmuring, something unintelligible, I staggered
forward groping. Blindly for the trail, The
Whispers were louder now overlapping and filling the air
drowning out my own breathing. Then finally, a faint glow broke
through the Mists ahead. The ranger stations floodlights,
I surged forward, dragging the man's weight with me.
The Whispers didn't fade. They followed growing louder as
I stumbled into the clearing. Help.
I shouted my voice raw, two Rangers ran out their
expressions. Twisting from confusion to alarm
as they saw me. I collapsed to my knees as they
pulled the man from my back, their voices, overlapping with
questions, I couldn't answer behind me.
The forest seemed to sigh The Whispers finally Fading Into
silence, I sat in the ranger station, kitchen wrapped in a
blanket and clutching a mug of coffee that had long gone cold.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking though.
Whether from exhaustion or something deeper, I couldn't
say. The fluorescent lights above
felt sterile two. Bright after hours of navigating
the oppressive dark. The man was in another room
surrounded by the Rangers who were doing what they could until
the ambulance arrived. I could still hear their hurried
voices, though. I couldn't make out the words.
They'd stripped off his shredded jacket, exposing his back and
the Glimpse I'd caught before they shoot me out, hadn't left
my mind. Those marks deep parallel
scratches like claws ran from his shoulders to his lower back.
The Edge is where red and raw and though, I knew better, they
didn't look like any animal attack I'd ever seen.
One of the Rangers Ellis, sat across from me.
Now, his face a mixture of curiosity and concern.
You did good out there, he said his voice low, Getting him this
far on your own. Most wouldn't have made it.
I nodded but didn't answer words felt too heavy and the room
around me felt too small. My mind replayed the sounds I
had heard in the woods, The Whisperers, the footsteps and
most vividly, the way the man had whispered my name in the
Darkness. Ellis shifted in his seat
leaning forward. You said you found him off the
trail. Yeah, I said finally my voice
rough. Face down.
Barely breathing. I thought he'd fallen or gotten
lost, but those, I gestured toward the other room unable to
finish the sentence. he followed my gaze his expression
darkening, We've had reports of strange things out there.
He said, slowly like he wasn't sure he should continue.
People hearing voices feeling, watched, most of the time, we
chalk it up to isolation or exhaustion.
But this. He trailed off shaking his head.
This is different. What kind of strange things?
I asked my voice sharper than I intended.
He hesitated before answering hikers disappearing, others
found, wandering Out of the Woods not knowing how they got
there. We don't talk about it much
don't want to scare people off but this guy he matches some of
the stories. Before I could ask more the door
to the other room, swung open and the second Ranger Callaway.
Stepped in his face was pale. His hands gripping, the door
frame, like he needed the support.
The ambulance is 10 minutes out, he said avoiding my gaze but he
is awake. Illustrating in his chair awake.
Yeah. If you can call it, that
Callaway muttered rubbing the back of his neck.
He finally looked at me and there was something in his eyes
that set me on edge. He's asking for you.
For a moment. I didn't move.
My stomach turned my legs felt like lead, but I forced myself
to stand. The blanket fell from my
shoulders, as I followed Callaway down the short hallway
to the room, where they'd place the man, the air inside was
colder. Despite the heater running, the
man, lay on the stretcher, his eyes open, but unfocused staring
at the ceiling. His breathing was steady now.
But his lips moved Whispering something too faint to hear.
Hey, I said softly stepping closer.
It's Sarah, I found you on the trail your safe now.
His eyes flicked toward me locking onto mine in a way that
felt wrong like he was looking past me rather than at me.
His lips moved again. Forming my name.
The sound was barely audible but it sent a shiver through me all
the same, then he spoke louder this time.
His voice raspy but insistent you brought it with you.
What? I asked my heart pounding.
What do you mean? His hand twitched lifting weakly
toward the window behind me. It followed you.
He croaked don't let it in. I turned sharply my eyes darting
to the window. Outside the flood lights,
illuminated the clearing and the edge of the forest Beyond The
Mists. Had thickened curling like smoke
around the trees for a moment. I thought I saw movement just a
flicker of Shadow Too Tall too thin to be human but when I
blinked it was gone. I looked back at the man, but
his eyes had closed again. His body slack.
The Whispers In My Mind, the ones, I dismissed as exhaustion,
or fear seemed louder. Now echoing his warning Ellis
stepped into the room, his voice, cutting through the
silence. The ambulance is here.
He looked at me his expression on readable.
You should get some rest. I nodded but didn't move my gaze
lingered on the window, the Mist, creeping closer to the
glass. Whatever had happened, in those
woods, wasn't finished. The forest had.
Let me leave but something had come with me.
Always be careful when going into the woods you might not
make it out alive. I don't scare easily or at least
that's what I tell myself years. Spent crouched in the wild
waiting for the perfect shot, whether it's a bear fishing in a
stream or a storm rolling over a mountain have taught me,
patience observation and an unshakeable sense of calm.
But from the moment we pulled into black Halo National Forest,
something felt off. I didn't say anything to Rachel
at first. She would have just laughed and
accused me of being paranoid. The ranger station was barely
more than a shack. Its paint peeling and windows
clouded with Grimes inside, a man with leathery skin and cold
gray. Eyes, barely glanced up as we
signed the Ledger. Whispering Falls Trail, Rachel
chirped, her voice chipper has ever.
The ranger didn't smile. He just squinted at us.
His pain, hovering mid-air You sure about that haven't had many
folks out there this season stick to the main trails and
don't be out past dark. Rachel gave him her best.
We're not tourists grin and we headed back to the car.
I lingered for a second though. Watching the ranger, as he
rubbed the back of his neck, muttering something under his
breath. The guy was probably just sick
of answering the same dumb questions every weekend, but
still something about the way he looked at us.
Stuck with me. The drive to the trail had
wasn't long, but as the road narrowed, the trees seemed to
close in on us. Rachel leaned out the window,
snapping photos of the Autumn Leaves with her phone, your two
serious Ally. She teased her tone light but
cutting, this is going to be amazing.
Just relax. I nodded and forced to smile
even as the forest seemed to grow darker.
The Towering trees, blocking out more and more of the late
afternoon sun. By the time we parked, I could
feel the weight of the silence pressing down on me.
Scout was the first one out, his black fur practically glowing
against the bed of fallen leaves.
He darted toward the trail, sniffing the ground, tail
wagging. At least he was excited.
I adjusted my pack and camera bag, trying to focus on the
little things buckling. The straps just write double
checking, my lens cap. Rachel was already halfway up
the trail when I called after her the first hour wasn't bad,
the trail was steep, but manageable winding through dense
Oaks and Maples. The air was cool and sharp
carrying the faint scent of damp Earth.
Rachel was chattering about something work, maybe or her
plans for a travel blog. But I only have listened.
My eyes kept darting to the Shadows between the trees.
Scout. Usually, the happiest dog in the
world. Had started sticking closer to
me. His ears pinned back and his
nose. Twitching You see that I asked
suddenly stopping in my tracks. Rachel turned, raising an
eyebrow. See what?
I pointed toward a break in the trees where I thought I'd caught
a glimpse of movement, a flash of gray, maybe or a shadow
shifting, a naturally. Over there, I think someone's
out here. Rachel squinted then rolled her
eyes Ali. Come on.
It's probably a deer or your imagination.
She turned and kept walking her voice trailing off.
Seriously, you need to chill, you've been on edge, since we
got here. She wasn't wrong, but that
didn't make me feel any better. Scout growled, softly, the sound
low and almost imperceptible. I gave him a quick pat on the
head and started walking again, trying to shake the feeling that
we weren't as alone as we thought.
We reached the creek just before Dusk and set up camp.
Rachel insisted on pitching the tent, close to the water,
despite my protest, that it might get too damp overnight.
The sound of the stream will help you sleep.
She said, with a grin brushing off my concerns like she always
did while she fiddled with the tent poles.
I wandered a few yards Upstream with Scout hoping to catch some
good light for photos. That's when I saw them, the
carvings. They were crude and weathered
etched deep into the bark of an old oak.
Symbols shapes. I didn't recognize like Spirals
and jagged lines. Intersecting at strange angles.
I raced my camera to snap a shot, but Scout barked startling
me. What is it?
Boy. I whispered glancing around the
woods were still two still. Ali, you coming.
Rachel's voice cut through the silence and I turned back toward
Camp. Yeah, I called forcing a laugh.
Just a tree. I didn't mention the carvings,
when I got back, Rachel was already unpacking marshmallows
talking about how this trip was going to inspire her next big
article. I nodded along trying to focus
on the firelight dancing in her eyes and not the creeping
feeling in my gut. By the time we crawled into the
tent. The streams Babel felt less like
a lullaby and more like a whispering voice.
I couldn't quite understand. Scout curled up close to me, his
warmth, the small Comfort just as I was drifting off.
I heard it a branch snapping footsteps.
Did you hear that? I whispered nudging.
Rachel she groaned? It's just the wind Ali.
Go to sleep. But it wasn't the wind.
I knew it wasn't Scout growled again, low and guttural his body
tents against mine. I lay awake for hours staring at
the tents. Nylon ceiling listening to the
forest, breathe. I didn't sleep morning, should
have brought relief, but it didn't.
The first thing I noticed when I unzip the tent was Scout, he was
pacing in circles near the edge of the campsite his nose, low to
the ground. Letting out soft anxious wine.
That wasn't like him. Scout was usually up in wagging
his tail. The moment we stirred.
Today though his ears were pinned back and his body was
tense like he was bracing for something I couldn't see.
Rachel of course, didn't notice a thing.
She was rummaging through her pack humming some song.
I didn't recognize Coffee. She asked holding up the small
travel press. Sure I muttered but my eyes were
on the dirt. Something was off the ground
looked wrong. I crouched running my hand over
the Disturbed Earth. There were faint impressions in
the dirt like someone or something had been here.
Branches nearby were snapped at odd angles and a thin line of
trampled grass LED toward the creek.
My stomach, churned. Hey Rach.
I said trying to keep my voice steady.
Did you hear anything last night?
Like Footsteps. She laughed too loudly.
Ali, you're obsessed with footsteps, were in the woods
animals exist. She gestured around us her hands
sweeping the trees like she was showing off a sales pitch.
This is their home. I didn't respond instead, I
grabbed my camera and snapped, a few shots of The Impressions,
just in case. Rachel rolled her eyes muttering
something about paranoia, but I ignored her Scout was still
uneasy and I trusted him more than either of us.
We packed up and set out for Whispering Falls.
The hike was supposed to be easy.
A gentle climb with clear views of the valley, but the trail
fell different today. The vibrant colors of the forest
were muted, somehow the yellows and reds dulled by a strange
gray Haze. The air was Heavy humid and
thick as if the forest was holding its breath.
Scouts stayed close to me his tail low, and his ears twitching
at every sound. Even Rachel seemed quieter than
usual though. She masked it with forced
enthusiasm. Isn't this gorgeous?
She said pointing at the trees her voice a little too bright.
This is exactly what I needed. I nodded but didn't answer.
My focus was on the Shadows. Those dark spaces between the
trees were light. Didn't seem to reach twice.
I thought I saw movement, a branch swaying where no wind was
blowing, a flash of gray disappearing behind a trunk.
At one point, Rachel stopped to take a photo near a rocky
outcrop. I stayed back with scouting the
woods, that's when I heard it. Laughter.
Faint almost like a child's, giggle carried on the Wind.
It was distant but unmistakable and it made my skin crawl.
Did you hear that? I asked my voice.
Sharp. Rachel looked up from her phone
squinting here. What?
Laughter, I said pointing toward the trees.
From over there. Rachel stared for a moment.
Then shook her head Ali. You've got to relax.
It's probably an echo or the water. no, I snapped it wasn't
the water. She sighed slinging her pack
over her shoulder. Come on, let's keep moving your
overthinking everything. I wanted to argue but Scout
barked a short sharp sound that sent a jolt through me.
He was staring at the same spot, I'd pointed to his body rigid.
Rachel was already ahead on the trail, so I had no choice but to
follow my heart, raced with every step, the weight of the
camera strap digging into my shoulder.
I kept glancing over my shoulder half expecting to see someone or
something behind us. By the time we reached
Whispering Falls, the sun was beginning to dip casting Long
Shadows across the clearing. The water tumbled, over the
Rocks, its Roar filling the air. for a moment, the sound drowned
out my anxiety, and I let myself breathe Rachel was snapping,
pictures completely in her element and even Scouts seemed
calmer? But then I noticed the carving
they were etched into a large rock near the base of the falls.
Symbols similar to the ones. I'd seen the day before but
larger and more intricate. Spirals jagged lines and crude
stick figures, all intersecting and chaotic patterns.
My stomach turned as I traced them, with my fingers, the edges
sharp against my skin. Rachel, I called my voice
trembling She looked up annoyed what?
Now look at this. She sighed.
Trudging over her expression shifted when she saw the
carvings Huh? She said crouching next.
To me, that's weird. What do you think it means?
I don't know. I admitted But it's not random.
Someone put these here. Rachel laughed nervously.
Maybe it's like an old Native American thing, or just some
bored teenagers. I shook my head.
It doesn't feel right. Scout growled, again, low and
guttural, his hackles raised. He was staring into the woods,
his body. Trembling Okay, now you're
freaking me out. Rachel muttered glancing around.
Let's head back to camp. We retraced our steps in
Silence, the cheerful banter from early by a heavy oppressive
tension. The forest seemed darker.
Now the Shadows deeper, the air colder.
I kept hearing faint sounds twig, snapping leaves rustling
but every time I turned, there was nothing there.
By the time we reached the campsite it was nearly dark.
Rachel tried to make light of it cracking jokes.
As she started a fire, but I could see the unease in her
eyes. Even Scout was on edge.
His ears, constantly swiveling, his body coiled like a spring.
That night As We Lay in the 10th, The Sounds started again
footsteps. Circling the campsite Scout
growled his body pressed against mine but Rachel, refused to
acknowledge it. It's just an animal.
She whispered her voice tight go to sleep, but I couldn't the
footsteps stopped and the silence that followed was worse
than the noise. Something was out there,
something that didn't belong and it was waiting.
The first scream, jolted me awake, I wasn't sure if it came
from outside or from Rachel's throat, but it didn't matter.
My heart was already pounding, and the weight of dread crushed,
any lingering fog of sleep. Scout was barking.
Furiously, his body pressed against the tent wall, his
growls, sharp and guttural. Rachel I hissed.
Shaking her She bolted. Upright, her eyes wide with fear
her breathing shallow. What the hell was that?
She whispered her voice trembling Another scream pierced
the night. This one closer.
It wasn't human too high. Pitched too distorted.
Like the sound of metal scraping against metal but alive Scout
was frantic now pawing at the tent zipper.
I grabbed him by the collar trying to call him, but his
growls only grew louder. Someone's out there.
I whispered barely able to hear my own voice over the blood.
Rushing, in my ears, Rachel grabbed her flash light, and
flicked it on the narrow beam. Sliced through the tents fabric,
Illuminating vague shapes outside, branches shadows and
something moving something big. Stake quiet.
I mouth but it was too late. The rustling outside turned into
heavy. Deliberate footsteps.
They circled the tent slow and measured each crunch of leaves.
Sending another Spike of panic through me.
Rachel, clamped a hand over her mouth, her flash light, shaking,
my fingers, fumbled for the survival knife.
I kept in my pack, the blade felt too small too useless
against whatever was out there. Then the tent walls shuddered,
something, or someone dragged, what sounded like claws across
the nylon. Scout lunged barking.
Wildly and the tenth collapsed inward as if struck by a heavy
weight. We have to run Rachel, screamed
her voice breaking, the silence, like glass.
Before I could stop her. She unzipped the tent and
scrambled out the flashlight swinging wildly in her hand.
I grabbed Scouts collar and followed my legs shaking as I
stumbled into the cold night. The forest was alive now, not
with the usual sounds of the wild but with something darker.
Twigs, snapping branches cracking and that awful metallic
screeching filled the air. The Flash Light Beam cut through
the Shadows revealing nothing and everything.
All at once. Over there.
Rachel shouted, pointing toward the creek.
Her voice was raw, panicked. I didn't have time to argue.
I grabbed Scout and ran after her, my boots slipping on The
Damp ground. The sound of pursuit was
deafening. Whatever was behind us, wasn't
trying to be quiet. I didn't dare look back, but I
could hear the heavy crashing footsteps and the guttural wet.
Growls that seem to come from everywhere at once.
We reach the creek, the Rushing Water glowing faintly in the
Moonlight. Rachel was already scrambling up
the rocky embankment, on the other side.
Her flashlights swinging wildly. I followed Scout pulling me
forward as if he understood the stakes.
That's when I saw it in the shadows across the creek, just
at the edge of the trees, a figure loomed, it was tall too
tall to be human and its shape was wrong like a person
stretched and warped beyond recognition.
The Moonlight caught its face and I wished it hadn't.
Hollow eyes a mouth Twisted into an unnatural grin and skin.
That looked too smooth to pale. It's stepped closer and I froze.
Ali, move Rachel's voice. Snapped me out of my trance and
I scrambled up the embankment. My chest burning.
The thing across the creek, didn't follow.
It just stood there watching. Its head tilting.
A naturally as if studying us We didn't stop running the forest
closed in around us, the trees twisting and clawing at our
clothes. The flash light flickered then
went out leaving us in near total darkness, my legs burned
my lungs, screamed, but I didn't dare slow down behind us.
The sounds of pursuit grew, louder.
It's right behind us. Rachel, sobbed.
Her voice breaking. Keep going.
I shouted grabbing her arm to steady her.
As she stumbled Scout was ahead. His barking Relentless leading
us through the Maze of trees. Finally, we broke through the
tree line and onto the dirt road where our car was parked.
The sight of it was a shock almost surreal, like it didn't
belong in the nightmare, we just escaped.
Keys. I screamed.
Rachel fumbled with her pack her hands shaking so badly.
She nearly dropped them. The sound of heavy footsteps was
closer now pounding the dirt like a drum beat.
I spun around gripping the knife, ready to make a final
stand but there was nothing. The forest was still.
Again, it's a pressive silence returning, as if nothing had
happened, my heart pounded in my ears as I backed toward the car.
Rachel yanked, the door open and we both tumbled inside with
Scout right behind us. she jammed the key into the ignition
her hands, trembling The engine roared to life and the
headlights cut through the darkness.
For a split second, I saw it again, standing at the edge of
the trees. It's Hollow eyes, glowing
faintly in the light, it didn't move, but its head tilted, that
awful, grinching white Earth, Go.
I shouted and Rachel slammed her foot on the gas.
The car lurched forward, tires, kicking up dirt.
As we sped down the road. I didn't look back.
I didn't want to see it again. We didn't stop until we were
miles away. The sun beginning to rise in the
distance. the first rays of light felt unreal, like a cruel
joke after the night we'd endured Rachel pulled over on
the side of the highway, her hands gripping the steering
wheel. So tightly, her knuckles were
white, neither of us spoke for a long time, Scout whimpered in
the backseat curling into a ball.
We're never going back there. Rachel finally said her voice
Halo. I nodded staring out at the
empty road ahead. Never again.
We drove in silence after that leaving black Halo behind but
even now I can feel it. Those Hollow eyes watching that
Twisted, grin waiting in the shadows and I know, deep down
that some places are meant to stay hidden.
I always thought I knew what quiet sounded like the kind you
hear in a forest Just Before Sunrise, the Stillness only
broken by the occasional rustle of leaves or a distant bird
call, But as I drove deeper into the woods past where the gravel
gave up and the dirt took over, I realized this was something
else entirely. The quiet out here, wasn't
peaceful. It was loaded waiting for
something I could name. The ridge wasn't marked on any
official Maps. I'd pieced it together through
old Topo charts and scraps of rumors.
From hikers. Who spoke about it like it was
some sacred Secret. A perfect overlooked with a
spring-fed Creeks that cut through a Grove, so thick
sunlight had to fight to break through.
That's what they said. If it was half as good as the
stories, it would be worth the hours of bumping.
Along these trails that barely deserve the name.
My tires kicked up so much dust that it hung in the air like
smoke. Swirling and lazy spirals behind
me. It made everything ahead seem
even darker as if the forest was swallowing up the light. the
road narrowed hemmed in by trees that seemed depressed, close
closer with every mile, Branches scraped the side of my truck
like skeletal fingers. I told myself it was just
overgrown brush, but I couldn't help glancing.
At the rear view mirror, half expecting to see something
following me. The trail finally widened just
enough for me to pull off into a small clearing.
I killed the engine and the sudden silence was so loud.
It rang in my ears. I stepped out stretching my legs
and some of the tension from the drive melted away.
The forest was thick all around a huddle of trees that seemed to
shut in on itself. Keeping it Secrets locked
inside. A Creek bubbled in the distance
faintly almost too soft to be real.
I unpacked my gear with practice deficiency.
Trying to shake the unease that had started creeping in
somewhere back on the trail. 10 hammock fire pit.
All set up with the kind of precision that came from years
of camping alone. The rituals of preparation
always helped steady me like building a fortress against
whatever the night might bring. By the time I finished, the sun
had begun to dip below, the Treetops, painting, the clearing
and shades of orange and gold. I stood at the edge of the
clearing looking out at the trees Beyond They seem to lean
just slightly toward me, their branches Tangled together, like,
they were whispering. The air was Heavy damp with the
smell of Earth and wrote, but there was something else too.
Something sharp and metallic, just faint enough to make me
question. If it was real, I decided to
ignore it. There was wood to gather and a
fire to start. And the sooner I had some light
the better. As I went through the underbrush
snapping off branches and picking up Fallen limbs, I was
struck by how quiet it had gotten.
Not even the faint hum of insects or the chirp of a bird,
just the crunch of my boots and The Creeks of wood in my hands.
The creek wasn't far. So, I walked toward it.
Figuring I'd collect water for the night while I was out.
The closer I got the stronger that metallic smell became.
Sharp enough. Now, to make my nose wrinkle.
At the edge of the water I froze.
The creek wasn't flowing the way it should have.
Been the surface was too still. and their half submerged in the
shallows was something that didn't belong a shoe small,
muddy and soaked through I looked around scanning the
trees, the bank, the water. No other signs of life.
The shoe could have been here for weeks, maybe months.
It didn't mean anything. Probably some careless, hiker
lost it upstream and it got carried here by the current But
why didn't the water look right? I gripped the bottle in my hand
filled it quickly and headed back to camp.
The woods seem darker, now the trees casting Long Shadows that
stretched out toward me like reaching arms.
I moved faster than I meant to my gear clinking together with
each step. By the time, I reached the
clearing, my fire. Pit was a welcome sight even
unlit. The Flames caught easily.
When I struck the match flaring to life with a crackle that
sounded almost too loud in the quiet.
I sat back letting the warmth chase away The Damp that had
settled into my skin. Staring into the fire.
I tried to tell myself. The shoe was nothing.
The smell was nothing. The Stillness of the water.
It was probably just the way Creeks, float out here different
from what I was used to. But as the last sliver of
sunlight disappeared, behind the Ridge and the forests sank into
Shadow, I couldn't help but notice how the darkness fell
heavy or here. Like it wasn't just an absence
of light, but something alive. Something that watched from just
beyond the fires glow. for the first time in years, I wondered
if I had made the right decision coming out here alone The
morning crept in reluctantly Hale light, filtered through the
canopy as if it were too timid to reach the ground.
My sleep had been Restless filled with fragmented and
disjointed dreams. Full of Shadows that dissolve,
the moment I opened my eyes. I forced myself out of the
hammock groaning as stiff muscles protested.
The air had a bite to it heavy with dampness that clung to my
clothes, as I coaxed the fire back to life.
Breakfast was quick, just coffee and an energy bar.
But something about the way that Creek had sat.
So unnaturally still the night before refused to leave me
alone. I told myself it was curiosity,
my hands. However, did Shake just a little
bit as I packed a small bag with water in a flash light.
The way down to the creek was narrow and overgrown with
brambles that snagged at my sleeves.
Every step made me feel like I was intruding on something old.
Something that didn't want me there.
Halfway down. The smell came back.
A faint metallic Tang. That seems stronger.
Now in the cold air, when I reached the bank I froze The
creek wasn't just still, it was wrong.
The water looked thick. Almost oily, its surface
catching the light in strange distorted patterns.
And there a few feet from where I'd seen the shoe the night
before was something new, a child's shirt Tangled in the
roots of a tree that dipped into the water.
Mud, streaked and torn, it looked like it.
Had been there for ages, but there was no mistaking, its
size. I crouched low staring at the
shirt as if it might explain itself.
My mind was racing with possibilities.
None of them good. Maybe it was nothing just
debris. Washed Downstream. but the shoe
had been here too and now this the two together didn't feel
like coincidence Movement in the corner of my eye.
Made me spin around. Heart pounding.
The trees Stood, Still their branches bare and brittle, but I
could have sworn. I'd seen something Dart between
them. Too big to be a bird, too quick
to be anything else. I stayed there for what felt
like hours staring into the woods, my breath, coming sharp
and uneven. when nothing else stirred, I forced myself to turn
back to Camp leaving the creek behind The day dragged each
minute, stretching out to Eternity as I tried to busy
myself. I wandered the perimeter of the
clearing Gathering more wood and double checking my gear.
By the time, the sun began its slow descent, I was more than
ready for the distraction of a fire.
Flames snapped and licked at the wood, their warmth pushing back
the growing chill. I skewered a few pieces of
sausage on a stick, turning them absent-mindedly as the Shadows
lengthened around me. That's when I heard the voice.
Can I sit by your fire? It was low pitched and clear
enough to cut through the crackle of the Flames.
I Whirled around peering into the darkness.
She stood just outside the Ring of firelight small and pale her
hair hanging in Tangled strands about her face.
Her dress, if you could call it, that was little more than a
torn. Muddy slip clinging to, her thin
frame, her bare feet pressed into the dirt, leaving faint
prints behind her, My throat, like it had closed up.
But somehow I managed to speak. Where did you come from?
Are you lost? She stepped closer her eyes
catching the firelight in a way that made them shine on
naturally bright. No, I'm not lost.
Her voice was calm. Almost two steady for a child.
I gestured to the empty log across the fire.
My hands, shaking slightly. Sit down are your parents
nearby. She didn't answer right away,
just watched me with those reflective eyes. finally, she
said, They're closed. Her words settled heavily in the
air, making the space around us feel smaller.
I tried to keep my tone light. You shouldn't be out here by
yourself. It's dangerous.
She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips.
It's not dangerous. Not for me.
The way she said, it made my stomach tighten.
I glanced into the trees searching for any sign of her
family, but the woods were as silent and empty as ever.
No voices, no lights. Just her Do you want something
to eat? I asked hoping food might keep
her talking. She nodded and I quickly
speared. Another sausage holding it over
the flames. She didn't move didn't blink.
Just watched me with those two Bright Eyes.
When the sausage was done, I wrapped it in a napkin and
handed it across the fire. Her hand brushed mine, as she
took it ice cold in two firm for someone her size.
Thank you. She said, softly before stepping
back toward the trees. Wait, I called standing up.
Where are you going? She stopped at the edge of the
firelight and turned her face half hidden in Shadow.
Back to them. Who my voice came out, sharper
than I intended who's with you. her eyes flicked to something
behind me and she smiled again, wider this time showing teeth
You'll see. Before I could answer her, she
had slipped into the darkness, her pale shapes swallowed up by
the trees. I turned slowly dread pooling in
my gut. Shapes moved at the edge of the
clearing into distinct and silent.
They stood just beyond the reach of the firelight, their forms
blending with the Shadows. My hands clenched into fists, my
breath shallow and fast. One of the Shadows.
Moved a little nearer just near enough that the firelight caught
the glint of an eye. It wasn't a reflection.
It was watching me and just like that it melted back into the
dark leaving nothing behind but the whisper of leaves brushing
together. I stayed frozen by the fire for
what felt like ours my eyes darting between the trees.
They didn't come back, not then. But I didn't move until the
Flames burned down to glowing. Coals too afraid of what might
be waiting in the dark. Morning arrived in a pale hazy
blur the forest cloaked in Mist that clung low to the ground.
I sat by the dying Embers of the fire legs.
Stiff and eyes gritty from a night spent Wide Awake.
Every sound, the rustle of leaves, the Creak of a branch.
Had kept me Frozen in place. Flash like gripped, tightly
waiting for the shape to return. They hadn't but their absence
didn't bring comfort. It felt more like they were
giving me time to Stew. Like prey left to weaken before
the final strike. I forced myself to move to pack
up, what I could. My hands were shaking so hard.
It took twice as long as it should have to fold the hammock
and roll my sleeping bag. I saw the dirt near the fire pit
and dropped to a Crouch to take a look.
Small prints Barefoot pressed deep into the soil circling, the
pit and leading toward my tent. They were fresh overlapping, the
grooves. My boots had made the day
before. She'd come back while I was
sitting there and I hadn't noticed.
Worse than the footprints were the scratches.
Thin deliberate marks, clawed into the canvas of my tent, long
enough to pierce through the fabric.
Whatever had done, it had circled the tent over and over
carving lines like they were marking territory.
I didn't bother with breakfast, my appetite had fled replaced by
the singular need to leave. The narrow trail out of the
clearing seemed darker than it. Had the day before the
undergrowth brushing against my legs.
With every step. I didn't dare look behind me.
Not after what I had seen last night.
The weight of unseen eyes bore down on me.
Urging me forward faster than I wanted to go the hike to the
nearest campsite wasn't far maybe 20 minutes but it felt
like hours when I finally broke through the trees.
The sight of another fire pit still, smoldering.
Faintly almost made me cry out. A man and woman sat on folding
chairs their backs to me. they turned as I approached their
faces lined with the kind of weariness that spoke to nights,
like the one I just endured Sorry to bother you.
I said my voice rough. But did I either of you happen
to see anyone last night? A kid Maybe?
Their expressions darkened, the woman setting.
Her Tin Cup down. Carefully before speaking.
We did a girl Barefoot. Came out of the woods asking for
food. Her words, hung heavy in the
air, each one sharpening, the knot in my stomach.
What did you do? I asked though I already knew
the answer. Gave her some granola bars.
The man replied his voice low. She didn't stay long.
Said she was with her family. And them.
I gestured toward the woods behind them, my throat tight.
Did you see anyone else? The couple exchanged a glance,
their unease, clear shapes. The woman said, finally in the
trees, too many of them all just standing there.
I felt the ground shift under me, the confirmation more
unsettling than I had expected. I think we need to call someone
I said. This whatever.
This is it's not right. The man nodded slowly Rangers
came through a while back. We could try again.
We did the ranger who arrived, looked as tired as we felt his
uniform, rumpled, and his face lined with the kind of
skepticism that came from hearing the same story too many
times. I told him everything, the girl,
the shapes, The Prince and the couple added their part.
The ranger didn't look surprised he didn't even take notes.
We've had reports like yours before, he admitted shifting his
weight from one foot to the other.
The stories, go back decades. There's talk of a family living
off grid out here but no one's ever gotten close enough to
confirm anything. You're not the first to see the
girl, and you probably won't be the last.
What happens when people see her?
I asked my voice cracking. He Shrugged his nonchalance,
making my skin crawl. Most people leave some stick
around long enough to see more than they want.
My advice pack up and go. The couple didn't need telling
twice, they started breaking down their campus.
As soon as the ranger left, I returned to my clearing to grab
the rest of my gear, the hike back feeling heavier with every
step. Her tracks still, lay their
Criss crossing the clearing. I hurried to pack up the last of
my things, the heavy silence ringing in my ears.
As I heaved my pack over my shoulder, I glanced up toward
the ridge above the creek. She was there quite still her
dress fluttering weekly in the breeze.
Her eyes caught the Sun and tossed it back at me and that
inhuman way that set my teeth on edge.
Behind her, Shadow shifted more than I could count blending with
the trees like they belonged there.
None of them moved but I knew they were watching.
I forced myself to turn around and head for the trail. the
crunching of my boots against the dirt sounded deafening to my
ears, but I pressed on I did not look back not even when the wind
carried a faint, high-pitched laugh.
That was not quite human. By the time, I reached my truck,
my hands were shaking so badly. It took three tries to get the
key into the ignition. I didn't stop driving until the
forest disappeared in my rearview mirror.
The road, opening up to sunlight in empty Fields, even then the
girls face stayed with me, her unblinking eyes in the way she'd
smiled. Like she knew something I
didn't. I ain't been back to the ridge.
Maybe no one should. The freedom of the open road had
always been my Escape. That box truck.
The ark was My Sanctuary a fortress on wheels that allowed
me to stay wherever the road LED Autumn it was.
And the Appalachian seemed to me like a detour to Perfection.
The Silence of its trails are far from the monotonous.
Miles of the. Highways I had heard Whispers of
such Solitude. That could only be found on
those winding Trails. It sounded ideal.
So I turned off the main road onto a dirt path.
Letting the truck sturdy tires crunch over the uneven surface.
As the trees closed in around me the sunlight filtered through,
and slivers, giving the road in almost a theory will glow.
I didn't see another vehicle for hours.
That's the kind of isolation, I typically seek out but there was
something in that Stillness that seemed off.
The air was Heavy. Even the leaves on the trees,
barely moved. Despite the occasional Breeze.
But I pressed on. The map app showed nothing for
Miles which meant no one would bother me. late that afternoon,
I rounded a curve and suddenly found myself in a clearing The
site before me pulled my gaze from its normal fixation on the
road ahead. A cluster of crumbling
buildings, sat like a collection of Forgotten relics of times
passed. Cabins leaned against each other
supporting one another as their roof sagged with age?
A barn, stood doors, ajar gaping open, dark and Hollow.
The centerpiece was a church or what was once.
So the steeple was broken Jagged against the fading Sky no sign
of life. No cars.
No smoke from chimneys, just decay.
Instinct told me to keep moving but I slowed the truck as I
passed. Something about the place
demanded attention. As I scan the settlement, a
figure emerged from behind one of the buildings.
They stood still, just far enough away that I couldn't make
out their features. Long coat, maybe a hat but they
didn't wave or make a move to acknowledge me.
They just stood there watching. My fingers tightened around the
steering wheel. As I hit the gas rolling past
the village in back into the cover of the forest.
By the time I found a place to pull off the sky was laced with
oranges and purples. The spot was perfect open
grounds surrounded by thick Woods.
I shut off the truck and hopped out into the quiet almost
jarring, after the constant noise of the engine The
floodlights snapped on their beams bright, as they cut
through the growing dark. My truck's perimeter alarm was
on Prime. To alert me should anything
wander too close? Dinner was a simple Affair.
Just a can of soup heated on my portable stove.
The warm Savory scent combined with the earthy smell of the
woods and suddenly everything felt back to normal.
As night began to fall, I settled back into my routine.
I murmured to myself about a true crime podcast, coming from
the speaker at the back. The well-known voice spoke of
crime. That happened in far-flung
places. I leaned back in the warm glow
of the interior of the truck and let my eyes drift closed to A
shrill Screech brought me upright with a jolt.
The perimeter alarm my pulse pounded as I grabbed a flash
light and shoved open the back door.
The floodlights illuminated every corner of the clearing,
but nothing moved. The air was still that kind of
Silence that made you hyper aware of every tiny sound, the
hum of the lights. The faint rustle of leaves.
I scan the tree line, the beam from the flash light cutting
into the Shadows but there was nothing.
No glowing eyes, no movement, just the trees, the alarm reset.
And I forced myself to laugh a raccoon may be a bird, it had to
be something small enough to trip the motion sensor Back
inside the truck. I double check the locks and
turned off the lights, it felt safer that way less exposed.
Sometime in the night. I woke again.
It wasn't the alarm this time, the silence was different.
Now more like the world outside had gone completely still, then
it came a tapping soft but deliberate a sound that could
only come from something with intent.
It started low near the back corner of the truck and moved
slowly along the side. Tap tap tap.
I reached for the Crowbar, I kept under the bed, clutching it
tightly, as I crawled toward the small side window.
The taping stopped. My breath hitched, as I peered
through the glass at first, all I saw was the clearing bathed in
faint moonlight. Then just at the edge of the
trees, something moved. Figures several of them barely
visible against the dark backdrop of the Woods.
They weren't walking their movements were stiff Jerky, like
they weren't entirely in control of their limbs.
I counted three maybe four before one stepped into the
light. The face was pale stretched.
Tight over Bones, the eyes reflected the light, but not
like an animals. They looked too human too aware.
They held something long and sharp but the angle of the
light, made it impossible to tell what?
A sudden scrape above my head. Made me jerk back.
Something was on the roof. The Crowbar felt heavy in my
hand, as I stared up at the closed hatch.
Waiting for whatever was out there to make its next move.
The laughter started softly almost as if carried on a
distant Breeze, it was disjointed.
A Chorus of mismatched tones that seemed to come from
everywhere at once. My grip on the Crowbar,
tightened the cool metal grounding me as I stayed
perfectly still listening. The hatch of me didn't move
again, but I couldn't shake the sound of faint, scratching on
the truck's roof. It wasn't constant more, like
the occasional drag of something heavy being pulled?
The figures outside had retreated, their strange jerking
movements blending into the Shadows of the forest.
The floodlights still cast, their harsh glow, but they
seemed weaker now. Their range somehow diminished.
It was as if the clearing was shrinking.
The darkness pushing in closer with every second, I forced
myself to move crawling toward the back of the truck, where I
had a better view of the clearing, what caught my
attention immediately was the etched patterns in the dirt,
they hadn't been there before circles.
Several of them perfectly spaced and impossibly precise.
Each one was roughly a foot across with jagged lines,
radiating out like a crude Sunburst.
They looked burned into the ground edges blackened as if
seared by something too, hot to imagine.
The laughter died away. Replaced by another sound, a
metallic whom low and vibrating it pulsed almost as though it
were alive and I realized it wasn't coming from anyone spot.
It resonated through the air through the ground, through the
truck itself. I could feel it in my teeth in
my chest and it made my head swim.
In enough, I muttered to myself barely recognizing the sound of
my own voice. My hand darted for the ignition
key but a metallic clang from the roof.
Stopped me cold. The sound was sharper, this
time, like steel meeting Steele and it was followed by that same
deliberate. Tapping tap tap, tap, tap, I
gritted my teeth. Refusing to let the fear take
over the Crowbar. In my hand, felt like the only
thing tethering me to reality. Slowly, I stood keeping my
movements, deliberate the hatch loomed above its edges lined,
with the faintest trace of frost that glinted in the dim interior
light. I reached for the locking
mechanism ready to slam it shut. If it opened again.
Before I could touch it, the tapping stopped.
The silence returned but this time it wasn't empty, it was
Heavy thick with the weight of something.
Unseen My ears strained for the smallest noise, but all I caught
was the faint hum still vibrating through the truck.
A shadow passed across the side window.
I froze staring at the outline of something, someone standing
just beyond the glass. Their head was tilted on
naturally to one side as if they were curious.
The glass missed it for a moment, like a breath had
escaped them. Then they shifted their figured
dissolving into the deeper black of the night.
This was no accidental meeting, no joke.
Whatever. Whoever this was, they had a
reason for this and I stood in the middle of it all The roof
hatch rattled violently, the sudden movement was so loud at
echoed inside the truck. I jumped back the Crowbar.
Held out in front of me like a shield.
Whatever it was. It didn't make the hatch open,
but it slammed against it harder this time, shaking the truck on
its Wheels. I stumbled catching myself
against the wall as the whom grew, louder, more.
Insistent, The flood lights outside, flickered once twice.
Then they went out plunging, the clearing Into Darkness.
My hands shot out fumbling for the Emergency switch.
That would reboot the system. Before I could reach it, the
side window shattered. Glass rained down.
Scattering across the floor as cold air rushed in.
I turned just in time to see a pale arm retreating through the
broken window, its fingers, impossibly long and thin.
I lunged for the controls slamming, my palm against the
reset button, the floodlights roared, back to life, their
beams cutting through the clearing once more.
The Figures were there closer. Now, dozens of them.
They ring the truck. Their heads can't at impossible.
Angles? Their limbs moving in ways that
made no sense. They were not holding flash
lights, they had each of them Jagged metallic rods in their
hands which pulse to the tune of that strange hum that filled the
air. I didn't wait to see what they
would do next. Scrambling into the driver's
seat. I jammed the key into the
ignition and turned. The engine roared to life, its
familiar Rumble, a small Comfort against the chaos outside.
Slamming, the truck into gear. I hit the gas.
The truck lurched forward. Scattering some of the figures
as it barrels out of the clearing.
The road was barely visible. The headlights bouncing, with
every bump and rut, the trees seemed to close in their
branches clawing at the sides of the truck as I sped through the
forest. Behind me, the floodlights
illuminated glimpses of movement.
The Figures were not retreating, they were following their jerky
movements. Keeping Pace with the truck in
ways that shouldn't have been possible.
The whom grew fainter, as I put more distance between myself and
the clearing, but it never went away completely.
It lingered. Like an unwelcome reminder that
this wasn't over. When I finally reached a paved
Road, the truck skidded as I turned sharply its tires,
squealing and protest. The forest then.
And the first hints of dawn painted The Horizon in pale,
Grays and Blues. I didn't stop until the trees
were far behind me. Their Shadows replaced by the
safety of an open, stretch of highway.
Even then the marks on the roof of the truck and the etched
patterns in the dirt stayed burned into my mind.
Whatever it happened back there. I never plan on going into the
woods again. Stay safe out there.
The trailhead lay in a hush of early morning, Stillness, just
what I had craved away from the cities Roar and my piling
deadlines. My pack felt reassuringly heavy
on my shoulders as I stepped onto the path, the gravel
crunching, softly beneath my boots.
Here, the sunlight came filtered through.
The ancient canopy painting dappled patterns of gold and
green across the forest floor. I savored the unusual quiet
broken only by the distant trail of birds high above and the soft
Whisper of leaves rubbing shoulders in the breeze.
This was my Sanctuary. No urgent messages.
No neon screens just the slow. Deliberate pulse of the
wilderness. The trail Was An Old Logging
Road, its edges blurred by the Moss and ferns that stretched
out in long fingers to its Center.
Now and then branches and Briars snagged at my clothing.
Each jerk reminded me. I was moving further from
civilization. Deeper into a place.
The world had mostly forgotten. I double checked my map now and
then reassured by the old markers.
Each one a small victory telling me I was still on course.
By noon, I dropped to one knee beside a narrow gurgling stream
and refilled. My water bottle.
My fingertips hovered in the cold water, clear enough to see
smooth stones, and darting Shadows of minnows below when
something broke the idyllic spell a cigarette butt.
It sat on the bank like a bad Omen out of place two human.
The nearest campsite was miles away, and this route was hardly
popular. My eyes combed the Foliage for
some sign of another hiker, a lost smoker.
Someone nothing only the rustle of leaves and the third of my
own heartbeat. I force to shrug flicked the
butt into a small trash bag in my pack and can continue to
Still the threat of unease wound its way through my thoughts.
As the afternoon wore on the sun's raised took on a lazier
angle and the forest responded by pressing in closer.
Branches weaving, overhead funneling me through a green
Corridor are gone still. I picked up my step intent on
making the signed clearing before dusk.
That was when I saw it, a figure only a dim outline between the
tree trunks. It was too, still too straight.
My reply silence and shadows. Suddenly stole the voice out of
me in a whispered. Hello.
I waited my heart, taped an uncertain Rhythm, but there was
no response, no stir. Anyways, I went on figuring it
was probably just another tourist who didn't feel like
chatting And yet every step away felt like a tiny betrayal of my
instincts. When I finally gained the
clearing relief washed over me. I set up camp, quickly, coaxing
a small fire to life. The light felt puny against the
endless Gloom of the forest. night, layered itself over the
woods and the absence of bird song, sharpened my senses Now,
and again, I caught a faint rustle or the snap of a twig,
dear raccoons. I told myself, yes, but the
memory of that silent figure. Not at my confidence.
Later swaddled in my sleeping bag.
I heard the careful crunch of slow deliberate footsteps, just
beyond the thin nylon walls. My throat constricted.
I dared. Not even breathe.
The sound vanished as suddenly as it had.
Come leaving me paralyzed with Dread.
When I finally unzip the tent shaky flash light in hand, my
eyes fell on a tree inches away. A crude carving of an i glared
at me from the bark. Fresh cuts glistening, my
stomach nodded itself. Someone had been here and they
wanted me to know I wasn't alone.
Mourning brought a cold clarity. The air felt thinner the light
duller. I struck camp in nervous, haste
and took an alternate route to the east, a longer detour, but
one, which would bring me back near the main trail.
I didn't care to go back into the other direction into that
place where a stranger had watched and marked my passing.
This New Path was Wilder. I tripped over a fallen Branch
cursed under my breath as brambles scratched, my arms
stopped to Catch My Breath. By a Mossy Boulder.
That was when I saw the boot prints in the mud bigger.
And fresher than I ever could be The forest hushed up silent
while the back of my neck prickled.
Someone walked ahead guiding me. Stalking me.
I pressed on urgency driving me. The birds were silent.
Now my every footstep felt like a gunshot in the hush.
When a flash of color bright. Frayed rope, caught my eye.
I approached it with trembling caution, it hung over a branch
deliberately placed, a message Allure.
I swallowed hard and moved past it.
My knife at my hip suddenly feeling inadequate, climbing a
rocky slope I heard it alone. Throaty laugh drifting from
somewhere below. It was quiet but carried easily
as if directed right at me. My blood turned to ice.
They were not afraid of being heard.
They wanted me afraid. I crouched low peering through
the leaves. No one in sight, but I felt them
watching I hurried on heart hammering.
By mid-afternoon I stumbled into another clearing a ruined,
campsite a shredded tent, lay crumpled clothes, and belonging
strewn about as if a band in panic.
At the center. A hunting knife, stood buried in
a tree stump its blade stained with dried.
Blood. I approached hands shaking.
Not rusted. Not old the work of days or
hours not years. I hesitated then pulled the
knife free. It scraped against the wood with
a sound that turned my gut if they returned, I would not be
defenseless. I fled that place the forest
seeming to press in on all sides.
Now, a living thing that disapproved of my presence
Twilight fell like a drawn curtain.
I made camp out of necessity, not choice and spent the night
clutching my new knife. Straining at every sound.
When mornings faint light, filtered through the Treetops
canopy. I became aware of the deep
slashes in my tents fabric neat cruel lines.
Deliberate and mocking. Outside a tight bundle of Twigs
bound with sinew greeted me like a trophy, my stomach churned.
Whether it was meant as a warning or trophy, I could not
say I bundled up my gear resolving to get to the
trailhead at all costs. The forest went silent.
Every step was a dare. Midway down a slope.
I heard footsteps again heavier. Now, picking up pace, I didn't
stop to investigate. I ran branches, clawed at my
face leaves snatched at my pack. Panic.
Flared, hot in my chest. The trail dissolved into a
tangle of brush and I hacked my way through adrenaline making my
limbs Shake. When I finally stumbled onto a
clearer path, I chanced to glance back.
Still and innocent the trees stood their lengthy Shadows,
crisscrossing, the ground. Had I evaded them?
Or had they been waiting their patiently just behind the
nearest trunk grinning in silence at me?
At last, the gravel of the parking lot, came into view.
Relief, bubbled up turning sour. When I saw a figure step from
the shade of the Pine's, even at a distance, I caught the
metallic glint of the weapon in their hand, bigger cooler than
my stolen blade. They did not chase me.
They stood waiting, as if enjoying the show of my Terror,
I sprinted to my car fumbling with my keys.
My arms were shaking so hard. It took three tries to get the
key into the lock. I dare to glance back as I swung
the door open. They still stood at the edge of
the lot Hood up motionless, their presence heavier than any
growl or snarl could be. Once inside, I slam the door and
twisted, the ignition gravel spat behind my tires as I tore,
down the winding road. My pulse hammered in my ears, a
glance in the rearview mirror. Muddy handprints smeared across
the window told me everything I needed to know.
They had been closer than close. Close enough to leave a parting
signature on my Escape. The woods receded into the
distance, but the silent horror of those trees stuck with me
something that wouldn't rinse off.
I will never go into those woods again.
I recall how excited and somewhat apprehensive I was as I
took my old car deeper into the Idaho wilderness.
Really just a dirt road with potholes big enough that I got
shaking in my seats several times.
After a while, I eventually arrived at a place with not a
single sign, not a single person and no bars on my phone.
I stopped grab my backpack in 10th and started walking into
the dense Woods. It was late afternoon when I
came into a small flat clearing surrounded by Tall Pines.
The trees looked ancient their bark, rough and dark.
I decided this would be where I had set up camp for the night.
I hadn't seen another person for Miles, which was exactly what I
wanted. I wanted peace and quiet a
chance to prove to myself that I could spend a night alone in the
wild. as I began to unpack the Stillness registered with me,
Normally forests are alive with sounds, the chirping of birds,
the scampering of squirrels, or the wind rattle of branches.
Here, everything felt hushed. It was so quiet.
All I could hear were my breathing in the crunch of dry
pine needles beneath my booths. at first, I just Shrugged Maybe
I'm lucky and found some calm Corner in nature.
I thought. I pitched my tent and then
unrolled my sleeping bag. I gather some wood to make a
small fire. And after its formation, I
warmed some canned soup over it to take down the sun had settled
very low. And I colored the sky with red
to orange shade's Well, fed I sat down upon a fallen log, just
doing nothing. But looking around the trees
were planted close together and as it grew Dusky, their Shadows
LinkedIn to fantastic shape. I rubbed my arms to keep warm,
though. There was a little chill in the
air, considering that it was still summer.
That quiet Stillness began to feel weird.
Without normal sounds my imagination began to play
tricks. On me, I kept thinking I saw
movement at the edge of the clearing, just a shape slipping
behind a trunk or a branch bending in a way that didn't
quite make sense. I told myself I was just jumpy.
I tried to stay calm, I even whispered it's nothing just
nerves as if someone might answer When night fell, I
checked that my tent was well, secured and got inside.
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.
The silence had a weight to it, like I wasn't just alone, but
being observed Still, I had to be brave.
This was an adventure, wasn't it?
For, with the darkness pressing in around me, I promised myself.
I would make it through the night, no matter how uneasy I
felt. And so, I lay down staring at
the roof of my tent. Listening carefully, waiting for
something. Anything to break that strange.
Heavy silence. I jolted awake in the middle of
the night. First, I had no idea what a
dragged me out of sleep. And then I heard it a sound that
made my skin crawl. It wasn't some little animals
scurrying about it. Sounded almost like a cry, but
stretched out and twisted too. Slow to be normal.
My heart started pounding and I tried to breathe quietly
fearing. Any sound I made would attract
attention I took my flashlight in hand turning it on, but
keeping it pointed down, so it was only bright enough to see
the zipper on my tent. While looking through a small
Gap movement, caught my eye at the edge of the clearing.
In the weak Moonlight I could just about make out a very tall,
figure standing there. It looked at first glance but
was often its manner of standing.
Its arms seemed too long and the way it cocked, its head made my
stomach flip. And then it did something that
scared me even more. It made a noise, something
approximating, a person trying to say words but not quite
managing. Some of it almost sounded, like
my voice, just muffled and broken.
It took me a second to realize. It might be copying, sounds.
I had made earlier I remembered talking to myself, when I first
arrived at camp. Now, here I was hearing my own
voice returned to me in a horrible Twisted way.
I was stalked, still my hand shaking as I gripped.
The flash light the figure drifted on behind a tree
appearing once more, on the other side of the clearing, And
each time it moved it did. So just out of sight as if it
wanted me to know it was there but not to get a full View.
A couple of times, I thought I heard stifled Chuckles but it
wasn't really laughing. It sounded more like somebody
forcing air through their throat.
Imitating the real thing. For what felt like ours I sat
Frozen in my tent too, afraid to make a sound.
Branches snapped, Eerie Whispers, floated through the
darkness, and that haunting voice wafted in and out, never
quite forming. Proper words.
I tried to convince myself that it was most likely just some
trick of the wind or that I was dreaming a deep inside.
I knew better. Something was out there and it
was very aware of me. I laid there night dragging on
scared to unzip my tent or even sit up.
I thought about calling out for help, but who would hear me?
And what if that only made things worse?
Each minute felt like it stretched forever.
The only thing I could do was to wait and hope that by morning,
this thing would be gone and I'd be safe again if I ever really
could feel safe in these Woods. I must have dozed off for when I
opened my eyes, the sky was a pale Gray.
Dawn had finally arrived but even though nothing outside, my
tent seemed to be moving. Now, I still felt tense, each
muscle in my body aching from not having moved.
My heart fluttering with every little sound.
I slowly unzip, the tent and peeked outside.
The forest looked tranquil, but something was off.
I emerged and scammed the terrain, that's when I saw them.
Odd Footprints pressed into the soft dirt.
I had never seen anything like them.
The toes were long and spread apart almost like a person's
foot stretched into some weird shape. a shiver ran down my
spine when I realized these tracks LED right, past my tent
circling it, I was shaking when I packed my stuff.
Every rustle of the leaves made me jump and I kept looking
around expecting to see that figure standing behind some
tree. I found no other Clues, except a
few strands of dark thick hair, caught on a broken branch.
I didn't want to think about what kind of creature they might
come from. I just knew I had to get out of
there. Hurrying back to my car.
I heard a noise echo through the trees.
It sounded like a deer call but something was off.
The pitch was too slow, too strained.
It reminded me of last night's voices the ones that tried to
speak but never really sounded human.
I broke into a fast walk. My heart hammering trying.
Not to imagine what might be following me.
By the time, I reached my car, my clothes were drenched with
sweat and I was breathing hard. My hands were shaking so badly
that I nearly dropped the keys before I could get the door
open. When I did get inside, I slammed
the door locked it and started the engine.
I did not hesitate looking in the rearview mirror as I pulled
away, half expecting something to emerge onto the road behind
me. By the time, I finally reached
the nearest small town, my stomach nodded up.
Just thinking about what it happened.
Who would believe this story? I could hardly make sense of it
myself. All I knew was that I had come
face to face with something inexplicable.
Something that wouldn't fit into any tail.
I'd ever heard. And from that day forward, Every
Time I Think of camping in the woods alone, those weird
footprints come to mind the mangled sounds.
And the feeling that I wasn't the only one out there.
We turned off the main road, just after lunchtime and rattled
for a while along a rough. Gravely track that, my dad was
insistent would lead us to the perfect campsite My mom glanced
at him every so often tapping her finger on the door handle
but he seemed confident enough. I recall how the forest deepened
as we pushed inward trunks grew thicker leaves grew Greener
until after a certain point I realized I couldn't catch even a
glimpse of the highway behind us.
It had all the sounds completely disappeared car engines and
voices far away. We eventually stopped at a patch
of tall grass and ferns where Dad parked the car.
That was where we were going to start walking.
He told me, I Shrugged and swung my pack onto my back.
My little brother was having some trouble with his bag until
mom helped. Adjust the straps.
Then we followed dad along what barely qualified as a trail.
Undergrowth tugged at my ankles and I found myself constantly
ducking under low hanging branches.
Now, and again, a breeze would cast through the trees, carrying
the Redlands of dampened Earth and pine needles.
It felt like stepping into another world.
By late afternoon. Dad spotted a clearing and
declared at Perfect. The ground was level.
And there was plenty of space to put up our large family, tent,
without bumping elbows. we shed our packs and started unloading
Mom was rolling out sleeping mats while Dad hammered tent
Stakes into the ground. My brother did his best to help
gather kindling, mostly just poking at moss covered Logs with
a stick. I worked on smoothing out of
space for my sleeping bag. After a day of travel in a
decent hike, settling in felt like relief.
Before long, a little fire crackled in front of us.
The orange light danced on the tree trunks, turning them into
leaning shapes that ringed our camp.
With the sun, sinking that Circle of warmth and light felt
necessary. We roasted hot dogs and made
s'mores. My brother proudly holding up a
perfectly browned, marshmallow and grinning like he'd won a
prize. We talked quietly about
tomorrow's plans. Dad said there was a stream
nearby where we could see deer. And maybe fish mom mentioned
something about keeping an eye on our routes so we didn't get
lost. I nodded along, not really
adding anything. I looked around watching how
quickly Shadows stretched once the sun fell behind the trees.
Birds that had called out earlier fell silent.
The only sounds were the gentle crackling of the fire and a
distant rustle in the underbrush that hinted at any life beyond
our campsite. By the time we zipped ourselves
into the tent Stars. I had never seen so bright at
home cluttered the sky. Mom said, we'd sleep soundly
after all that walking and Dad cracked a joke about being too
tired to worry about anything. My brother had whispered
something amusing about Woodland, creatures playing
stealthy games in the night. I listened for some time
expecting to hear something familiar.
Maybe some Far Away, owl or hum of insects, but that quiet
between those High trees was almost like the presence of
something there. I said, nothing.
I lay there trying to sleep. We had tomorrow to explore, and
I told myself there was nothing unusual about the way.
This Forest seemed to watch quietly as we settled in I woke
in the dark unsure of the time. But the fire outside had died
down no longer. Was it crackling and popping,
just dying Embers that cast no dance upon the walls of the
tent. The tinge of moonlight Grace
showed only at the edges of the fabric.
I shifted around not wanting to wake my family.
My brother made a soft breathing sound in his sleep.
I needed to go outside. Nothing dramatic.
Just that normal reason. Anyone steps out of the tent at
night. Slowly.
I pulled my arms from my sleeping bag and fell for the
zipper. Slipping quietly, outside.
The clearing looked different than it had when we turned in.
The moon was bright but the trees seemed taller leaning in
as if curious about our presence.
I had no real interest in sightseeing, though.
I just stepped beyond the tent, moving, a short distance away to
keep some privacy. After I finished, I Stood Still
For a Moment letting my eyes adjust thinking, maybe I'd spot
a raccoon or some other harmless creature nosing around.
Instead something I heard. First, I thought I was imagining
things. It started as a voice too soft
to be intelligible. I talked my head listening.
The Voice came again, just a little louder.
And this time it sounded very much like my name.
That's a surprise me. I turned around to look back at
the tent. Expecting to see my dad, poking
his head out, or perhaps my brother horsing around, But the
tent stayed closed unstirred the light and tossed it back in odd
shapes. Standing behind a tangled, patch
of bushes. There was a figure with long
arms and a head that didn't quite match.
What I'd expect of a deer or bear.
It was too tall, too. Oddly shaped it, shifted a
little and leaves rustled against each other near its
legs. If those were legs, I kept
looking unsure whether my eyes were playing tricks.
Then the voice came again closer.
This time, it sounded like a dry voice.
Trying to say, my name in some raspy imitation.
As if it knew me, I tried to speak something simple like
who's there? But what actually came out was a
weak squeak. That pathetic sound was enough
to wake my dad. He burst out of the tent with
his larger, flash light Calling My Name.
Urgently my mom followed her voice 10s before.
I could Point them to that shape in the bushes.
It moved back. When my dad cast his beam over
there, we saw only empty branches.
He swept the perimeter of our campsite while Mom hovered near
me. My brother peaked out,
sleepy-eyed and Confused. Nobody found prints or broken
Twigs that made sense. We huddled together staring at
the tree line. Dad fed the fire until it
flared, back to life. No one said anything about
keeping watch but we all did. The night around us stayed
quiet, too quiet for comfort. We waited for Dawn.
Each of us probably wondering what I had really seen and who
or what new my name out here. At first light dad said we were
leaving, there wasn't any big family discussion about it.
He just started packing and Mom and I followed with a word, my
brother rubbed, at his eyes, still half asleep, asking
questions, nobody answered. The silent tension in the air,
did all the talking. The forest, which had seemed so
peaceful when we arrived. Now, seemed ready to swallow us
whole Our supply is went back into bags at Double speed.
We didn't stop for breakfast, or even a hurry, drink of water.
Dad told us to stay close together and keep moving.
So that's what we did. We set off along the faint path.
We'd use the day before back toward, where we'd parked?
I tried to Mark, landmarks a clump of ferns that looked like
a chair, a small Boulder shaped like a turtle shell.
But the woods weren't kind to my memory tricks.
Branches scratched at our arms and loose Stones, slid
underfoot. there was hardly a sound but for our boots pushing
through leaves and the unsteady breathing, as we hurried along,
We made it maybe halfway when I heard something following.
I looked at Mom and her eyes had darted to the back of us, so I
knew she heard it too. Dad didn't say a word, but he
picked up the pace leading us over roots and around Fallen
Logs with a grim intensity. My brother stumbled once and I
caught his arm jerking him back. Upright we couldn't afford to
stop and look back. Another voice wafted through to
us that raspy voice trying out my name, like it was some kind
of key. I shook my head refusing to
answer, there was no way, I'd call back the path grew trickier
more than once. I felt something tug at the back
of my jacket or snag in my hair though.
I never saw what it was. I kept expecting to look over my
shoulder and see that long limbed shape just inches away.
at one point, we came out into a slightly open space and dad said
to hurry up, that was when my brother yelled, he had seen it
just behind a group of young Pines.
None of us saw it, good. But I caught an impression of
movement, something tall and wrong-shaped slipping between
trunks. Dad hissed at us to keep going,
and Mom pushed my brother ahead of her.
Our footsteps turned into a near run through uneven ground.
When we finally found the place, where the car should have been,
I expected to feel relieved. Instead for a second, I thought
the car was gone. The trees had shifted in my
mind's eye to a different angle. My heart thudded, heavy
searching. And then I saw the cars flat
paint job through the foliage. Dad padded pockets for Keys,
mom. And I hung clothes, looking
back, it moved in the shadows and I could swear at stretched
out a hand like it was trying to bridge the distance between us
we tumbled in slammed doors and Dad cranked.
The motor gravel spot beneath the tires as we lurched forward,
the wheels of the car, bouncing, over the uneven track.
No one said a word until we were miles away.
When we finally hit a proper Road, mom asked, if everyone was
okay, My brother muttered. Something about how weird that
had been. I stared out the window watching
the thick forest fall behind us. Maybe one day we'd talk about it
with clearer heads but for now It was enough that we were still
here, driving away and that, whatever lurked in those trees
would stay behind. We had been planning the trip
for weeks, a three-day inroad into High Country.
Just the two of us under the pine canopy and stars far from
the unyielding hum of City Life. We had chosen a spot deep in the
old growth forest where Trails were well kept and Maps, showed
more unnamed landmarks than official campsites.
That was precisely what we saw it.
Isolation with, only the soft rustling Sound Of The Wind in
the Treetops and the occasional Cry of an owl in the night.
The first day was perfect. We hiked until our legs felt
pleasurably soar. Striding through Grove's ancient
trees each narrowed an imposing. We set our tent near a small
Fern line Halo. Not far from a narrow Creek that
trickled lazily over moss covered stones.
The sunset was magnificent and cast a warm Golden Light, over
everything we would have feasted on instant noodles and dried
fruits. And as Darkness fell, we would
have been laughing softly and talking of the future.
The ring that was to be in my pack and the life.
We could possibly build together after this trip.
Above. The sky is a silver quilt of
stars. I fell asleep feeling safe with
her body pressed comfortably against mine.
The smell of Earth and leaves in my nostrils.
But the second day, changed everything.
We woke to an eerie silence as though the forest had swallowed.
Its breath The birds were gone. The wind was still Even the
gentle trickle of The Creeks. Seems somehow muffled.
It was as though. Someone had put a large
invisible hand over the Wilderness and commanded it to
be quiet. We tried to enjoy a morning
coffee, but every sip was forced every swallow with the creeping
feeling that something watched us.
We tried a longer hike, wandered deeper into the Wilderness where
the mosque, grew thick and The Roots formed tangled.
Webs beneath our boots. But soon the trails became
confused twisting and converging in ways our map couldn't
explain. Bright orange lichen on a
boulder. We swore we'd passed before now
appeared on our left instead of our right.
Broken branches seemed rearranged each time we turned
around. It was subtle at first like an
odd, Deja Vu. But it worsened with each step,
That afternoon, we found the marks on the trunks, long ragged
scratches too high for a bear or mountain lion.
The gouges looked deliberate as if something taller than any
animal, we knew stood on two legs and scratched them into the
bark. At one point, we caught a foul
odor, drifting through the trees.
Decay, the stink of old meat baking in the sun.
It made our eyes water and our stomachs turn.
Forcing us back to Camp early than planned.
By late afternoon, The Sky Had clouded over though.
It was still light out as we were scrounging together dinner.
Rehydrated, vegetables and broth crackers and a little trail mix.
My partner froze, cocking her head into the woods I turned and
heard it too. Something big was moving, just
beyond the firelight. The crunch of dry.
Branches under enormous weight, a dragging sound, and a wet
throaty grunt that clinched, the pit of my stomach.
We've shown our headlamps into the trees but they illuminated
only a confusion of branches. Still we sensed it massive,
predatory patient, we slept fitfully clinging to each other.
Listening for the scrape of clause or the snap of Twigs.
We tried to explain it away a bear.
May be a moose but neither of us believed our own words, By Dawn,
I was frantic to get out. We decided to pack up and head
back to cut the trip short. But the forest fought back.
Trails that should have led us toward the parking area.
Now wandered, aimlessly landmarks.
We had noted on the way in were simply gone the Slender Birch
with the lightning scar. The Fallen Cedar, bridging two
Boulders as if the shifting landscape had swallowed them
whole Panic fluttered at the edge of my mind.
Every so often more signs appeared shredded bark, small
animal carcasses in grotesque patterns on stones and roots,
One day, we heard a shrill cry and saw something tall and
emaciated. Slipping between the old Pines,
its limbs were impossibly long and its skin.
Ash Gray stretched tight over protruding bones.
It moved with an uncanny Grace that led it disappear behind
trunks before our eyes could really take in the shape, but we
both saw the eyes dark hungry gleaming with cunning.
I'd heard the stories whispered around campfires of a wendigo
that stalked Northern forests. A spirit twisted and contorted
by some bottomless hunger. I never believed them, of
course, now I did. We continue to push on
compelling. Our legs to move tripping, over
roots, and having our clothes caught and ripped by the Briars.
The day wore on into aching, after noon, then in to the Long
Shadows of evening. We rationed our water and tried
not to talk words seem too fragile here.
Twice. We thought we saw other people.
Bright colors, shifting between the trunks, perhaps hikers like
us, but when we called out, we received no response.
Once we passed what looked like a campsite long, abandoned a
collapsed tent moldy and half buried in leaves.
A single boot lying on its side. A chilling thought.
Whoever camped here. Might never have left at all.
It was Nightfall and the woods had turned into a dark
Labyrinth. The moon shown feebly and my
partner snatched my arm and pointed to a little piece of red
cloth. Caught on a low-hanging, limb of
a tree. I remembered a red rag being
tied to a tree near the trailhead, and impromptu marker
left by a forest ranger or a cautious hiker.
The vision brought a desperate sense of hope.
We scrambled toward it, ignoring the sting of thorns, and
snapping of twigs. It was then that the wendigo
Rose from behind a crooked Pine. And gone and crooked it stood
between us and the sliver of red.
Its face was almost a human shape but horribly distorted by
the protruding bone in the hollowed cheeks.
Jagged teeth caught the moonlight.
It took a rattling wet. Gasp of breath.
That might have been laughter. I heard my partner suck in a
breath, then let loose a sharp terrified scream.
It ricocheted through the silent woods.
Fear drove me on. I snatched up a rock and threw
it. The wendigo avoided it with ease
having anticipated the action swaying aside within human
quickness. It darted forward claws,
scraping bark and leaf litter, and I swung a dead Branch
shrieking words that made no sense.
It pulled back or at least hesitated its eyes shining with
an intelligence that turned my blood to ice.
We couldn't fight this, not really, we had to run, but it
stood in our way. My partner voice shaking but
eyes determined feigned to move to the left and the creature
shifted. In that moment, I tore the right
grabbing her arm, as I passed. She tripped on a root almost
going down, but I pulled her up. The wendigo's Claus swiped
through empty are where we'd been with ragged breathing, we
smashed through undergrowth and out of the clearing, ignoring
pain as thorny branches whipped open cuts on our faces and arms.
Appearing shriek rent the forest.
Another worldly Cry of Rage or hunger.
My guts Twisted at the sound. I could almost see it.
Leaping tree to tree closing the distance.
Every second, I felt sure that a bony hand would clamp down on my
shoulder, but I forced myself, onward following that red
Fabrics memory through Ferns and brambles sweat.
Stinging, my eyes and then somehow impossibly we pushed
through a stand of Birches and knew the shape of the land
There, a wooden sign half rotted at the base, marked the
trailhead. Beyond that the gravel lot,
where we parked. My heart was hammering.
As we stumbled across open ground feeding on loose Stones,
The Woods Edge was to our backs and we jumped into the car
trembling so badly. It took three tries to get the
key in the ignition. We sat in the dark car engine
off for what felt like a very long time listening to our
ragged breathing. Only when we turned the
headlights on. Did I dare glance toward the
tree line? Nothing stirred.
Just darkness and swaying branches no eyes.
No impossible. Silhouette The smell of blood
and sweat filled the car. We knew that we had escaped by
the Bears margin. We didn't speak until we were
miles away the headlights. Cutting a path down empty roads.
Even now I don't know what we really saw.
Butt scratches on our arms and bruises on our shins and
nightmares, every time we close our eyes.
These are the proofs that something in that Forest doesn't
welcome. Visitors intelligent and hungry
very old. if we were lucky, I dealt we shall ever return.
We left the ring in my pack. Unopened the plans of our future
unspoken some silences are safer unbroken and some forests are
best left. Undisturbed I shut off the
engine opening the door and stepping down into boots
crunching. In a thin crust of snow that had
settled over the gravel. Late afternoon, maybe an hour of
decent light left, the trailhead itself was unmarked except for
the start of a crooked trees. I shouldered my pack, took one
last look at the SUV and moved into the trees.
I plan to stay a few days, long enough to push far into country
where most folks never bothered to go.
The Bitterroot Wilderness stretched out before me like an
old quiet secret. Each step took me deeper into
the landscape that had no interest in making me
comfortable. I carried little besides a
hatchet flint, and a few emergency rations beyond that I
relied on whatever I could find. I done this many times before
carrying next to nothing sleeping beneath branches.
Foraging wild Foods Most trips brought a kind of calm a
reaffirmation that I could exist out here on Nature's terms.
This time though, something felt a half-step off.
No obvious reason, just to sort of tension, you'd notice in a
good dog before a thunderstorm. The forest presented itself is
still in remote. Yet.
I kept slowing down, craning my neck.
Listening for something I couldn't name.
Nothing answered. No, wind brushed needles.
No birds gave warning calls. Just the sound of my breath and
Boots moving uphill. I found a small clearing rimmed
with towering trees. So heavy with snow their limbs
sagged low. It had a slight elevation in
some natural, Windbreak enough to call home for the night.
I dropped my gear and began the routine of building, a lean to
and Gathering kindling. My hands worked on automatic
with learn movements that left my mind free to track the
silence. The silence seemed to swell as
dusk, Drew deeper, like a thick cloth settling over the trees.
The fire took easily enough. Sparks danced up and the light
flickered against trunks that crowded in from every direction.
Warmth spread outwards and I knowed clothes.
Rubbing fingers that had gone numb Eventually the darkness
closed in around the clearing and my Flame, the only real
source of comfort. I leaned back against my
makeshift shelter scanning the perimeter.
At some point, just after full dark, I caught a faint, sound a
step, maybe two somewhere past the glow, I held still waiting.
Another careful movement. The sound suggested size larger
than a deer but slower than a cat something with weight behind
it. I clasp my Hatchet still nothing
came out of the Gloom. I let a few minutes pass.
Then added some wood to the fire.
Spark shot up into the black. It could have been the sound of
a moose stepping on crusted snow or maybe a bear that woke too
soon. Or maybe my mind playing tricks.
either way, the rest of the night dragged on, with that
notion mulling in the dark, I told myself, I'll see tracks at
first light in figure it out. Until then, I held my ground.
Morning, brought a kind of Solace.
I tried to lean on. The ashes of my fire glowed in a
ring of trampled snow and my lean too.
Still stood after the night. I took a poll from my canteen
and stepped out of camp in search of sustenance.
There wasn't much sign of life. No bird song, No squirrel
chatter just me crunching along squinting for tracks or edible
plants beneath drifts. On previous trips.
I find fresh scat browse sign on twig tips.
Maybe hear a distant woodpecker. Not this time.
A short Trek, led me into a depression thick with Spruce
where I came across. Something that brought me up
short, the partial remains of a mule deer.
The carcass had been torn open, ribs exposed, internal, organs
gone. Chunks of Flesh, scattered
across stains snow. I'd seen Predators feed before
but this looked like a mess left behind by something careless or
impatient. Around it.
I spotted prints with a hoof like shape, but their pattern,
suggested a two-legged stride. I crouched trying to puzzle it
out. The forest seemed to lean in as
though, every tree watched, I spent the rest of daylight
weighing explanations a wounded moose kicking a carcass a bear
with a malformed paw? The silence around me, never
wavered, not even as I circled back.
On a trunk near Camp. I noticed scratches cut deep
into the bark parallel and too long for an ordinary animal.
The grooves oozed with Amber Sapp, sticky and fresh.
I went slower as the afternoon light slanted through the
branches. Casting everything in a subdued
glow. My boots squeaked on the crust
and I strained to hear anything else.
Perhaps a branch breaking distant water.
Nothing. And then late in the day, a
noise came from somewhere beyond the ridge, high pitched and
layered like, metal scraping metal in a distant Canyon.
I stood stock still hatch it in hand and scam the tree line.
Something dark shifted behind a stand of trees, tall and gone
with antlers. That looked more like Twisted
horns, than the graceful rack of an elk.
It angled its head in a way that Drew a low, not into my gut.
Before I could blink, the figure stepped back into darkness
leaving me uncertain. If I truly seen it By Twilight.
I realized it was no longer smart to stay put the shelter
and fire suddenly felt flimsy against whatever might be
lurking out there. My route back to the SUV was
Milds of unseen, terrain, but I preferred motion to huddling in
this tiny clearing. I packed quietly not wanting to
announce plans. The remaining daylight drained
from the sky and a thin slice of moonlight offered.
Poor guidance. I told myself I travel
carefully. Make no panicked movements and
keep my senses open. the thought of stumbling through the night
in unfamiliar territory made me uneasy, but the alternative
seemed far worse I tightened my pack, straps.
Doused. What few Embers were left of my
fire and moved out determined to leave.
No Second Chances behind It was trickier than expected to get
out of that Timber stand with. So little Moonlight, the world
flattened into a series of dark shapes and guesswork.
I trudged forward careful not to make too much noise.
Each step felt like a deliberate one.
Now, and then I stopped by a trunk to listen.
That heavy presence. Followed me, not always sounding
its arrival but by an odd, quieting of the forest.
Which should have stirred with something wind Branch creaking
faint sigh of an owl. After a while, I struck a faint
Trail, the trees thinned enough to let me make better progress
and I struck more familiar country tuck near the edge of a
Logging Road. The SUV would be ahead.
I tried to move faster but a crunch behind me to the left,
made my neck prickle, I turned slowly in Moonlight, a shape
easing between Evergreens was impossibly tall and thin.
It's formed topped by. Antlers that curved like bends
in a creek Ancient yet. Terribly alive a hint of sickly
pale skin reflected. What little light there was When
it moved its bones, popped it stepped toward me lifting its
head as if tasting the air. I gripped my pack strap and
eased my hand inside for the flare gun, the creature, slid
closer. Its gate hinted at some sort of
Twisted intelligence, I flicked the flare gun safety back aimed
and pulled the trigger. The sudden burst of red
illumination carved, the darkness like a wound.
The Flair struck its torso For a Moment.
I Saw every detail empty eyes that Shone faintly a body.
So thin, it looked as if it had been stretched over a frame of
old driftwood. The thing let out a sound more
screamed than Roar thrashing tearing at the burning Flair
wedged in its chest. I didn't wait to see how it
resolved. Its pain.
I bolted down slope, the trail firm under my boots.
Branches whipped my arms, as I rushed through, breathing hard,
half expecting it to catch me from behind.
Finally, I saw a familiar stump and followed the old overgrown
Road out of the Deep Woods. The SUV stayed where I parked it
iced up in Black. I yanked opened the driver's
door, got in and jammed the key into the ignition, the engine
complained, sputtered then caught, In the rearview mirror a
movement, Drew my eye. The creature broke from the tree
line silhouetted by faint moonlight.
Its scream reached me through the closed.
Window a clawed hand. Struck the glass beside my head
cracking it. I stomped on the gas Wheels,
spinning before, they griped, it's sudden lurched forward
through it off balance. I saw antlers and flailing limbs
as I sped away. Heart hammering teeth clenched.
I didn't stop until I had cleared countless bends.
Hours later safe at home. I tried to settle into bed, the
marks on my face thawed, the house felt secure and warm then
from somewhere outside maybe far.
Maybe near there came a distorted cry that same high
pitched way. It carried a promise that I
would never truly put these woods behind me.
We trudged off the gravel road and followed Donovan into the
timber, the light fading faster than I liked.
Nothing, screamed danger at first glance, just old trunks,
patches of Fern and a quiet that made us talk softer than we had
back in the car. Logan lagged, behind wrestling.
With a pack that looked about as big as him.
Tristan kept shaking his head at Logan's stumbling occasionally
snorting or rolling his eyes. Meanwhile, I did what I could to
help, even though, Logan, tried to handle it alone.
Donovan said something about learning self-reliance, but I
pretended not to catch the meaning in his tone.
As the ground, angled upward, everything started feeling more
crammed the forest pressed, close branches, snagged, our
jackets and the Moss under our boots squished with each step.
There was a certain hush now, not that over dramatic hush like
an old horror movies, just the kind that gets under your skin
without announcing itself. I wanted to break it with small
talk, but the words sat useless on my tongue We reached a ridge
where a massive Cedar loomed, its trunk, split down the
middle. The damage looked old black, and
edges and a Halo where a person could stand.
Donovan stopped there and lowered his voice.
He claimed his grandfather. Had once, mentioned, a tribe
living in these parts long before white settlements.
According to him this tribe, carried a curse that lingered.
Well beyond their time. Donovan didn't get into details
right away. Instead, he took his time pacing
a bit, clearing his throat and peering at that old tree like it
might open its mouth and speak. It made me uneasy watching him
behave. So oddly, he wasn't usually the
dramatic type. Logan listened wide-eyed as
Donovan. Finally explained that this
tribe had offended, something old and cruel.
He called it. The elkhead fiend.
Tristan laughed told Donovan to quit with the Bedtime Stories.
He stepped closer to the Cedars, warped, trunk and spat a few
rude words into the Dark Hollow, then he wandered off to take a
leak against the roots shrugging off.
Donna's warning. I edged closer to Logan who
looked like he wanted to drop his gear and Bolt Donovan.
Didn't try to stop Tristan, but his jaw tightened.
I swear, I saw his knuckles whitened around the flashlight,
he carried When Tristan returned grinning like a jerk who just
proven a point Donovan shook his head and shouldered his pack
again. Were not sleeping here.
He said flatly and no one argued We turned away stepping back
into the brush, the thought of setting up camp beside that.
Cracked Cedar, vanished. If Donovan and his story had
been an act, it worked on me. My nerves were buzzing.
We aimed to find an old abandoned house.
He'd mentioned some shelter further.
In, maybe we'd laugh this off by morning, once we found a roof, a
corner to spread out our sleeping bags and maybe crack
open a beer without feeling like we were intruding.
By the time we found the old house, our boots were damned and
our clothes carried that damp Forest smell.
The kind you never get out entirely.
The building rows before us like something that had been left
behind decades ago. A husk of crooked boards and
flaking paint. A window frame rattled softly in
the breeze and the doorway looked more like a jagged wound
than an entrance. Donovan lifted his flashlight,
sweeping it over warped floorboards and ripped wallpaper
that curled at the edges. Better than sleeping under that
split tree. He said trying for a confident
tone I'd have laughed if I hadn't been so tense.
He sat down his pack and checked his phone.
He told me Logan made it home safe.
That was a relief. At least the kid wouldn't have
to deal with whatever had been lurking in our minds, since we
left the ridge. I unrolled my sleeping bag in a
spot that seemed less moldy and Donovan.
Knelt beside me. we barely spoke, just exchanged looks
Maybe we'd both found the knights silence more unsettling
than we wanted to admit. Without warning Donovan reached
into his pack and pulled out a rose, not the sort of thing
you'd expect out here. He whispered something about
trying to make piece that we'd been distant lately.
I ran a finger along the pedals, anything kind and gentle fell
out of place. In that broken down room yet.
It also felt like a small anchor to something normal.
I guess Tristan got bored. He wandered off muttering about
not sleeping in a termite Motel. So there we sat Donovan and me
leaning close enough to share some warmth talking in low
voices, about nonsense, dorm life classes.
If we could stomach eating another granola bar, we were
trying to ignore the crumbling ceiling and the nagging quiet
outside. Then a scream Twisted the night.
It cut through those thin walls like an alarm.
You try to Silence by covering your ears.
Tristan had sounded cocky before but now he sounded like someone
caught off guard by something horrible Donovan, shot to his
feet and snatched up the flash light.
I grabbed for my boots, my fingers fumbling with the laces.
I didn't say anything. Clever, just stumbled out after
him, the Rose fell from my hand and landed on the floorboards
part of me wanted to grab it as if it mattered, but Tristan
screamed tugged us forward. Outside the forest stretched
into Jagged outlines and we called his name, hoping for a
quick reply. We got silenced aside from an
occasional Branch creaking above us.
We followed a narrow path leaves brushing our shoulders. we carry
just the one beam of light and as it swept ahead, I imagined
all sorts of things lurking behind each shadowed trunk
Donovan, kept calling Tristan's name louder.
Now and I tried to help but my throat felt dry.
No one answered. We stepped deeper the ground
soft and uneven our voices, sounding weaker with each
unanswered call. We had left a roof behind no
matter how rotten it was and now we proud.
And opened Darkness Hearts pounding, hoping Tristan would
call back We found Tristan near a shallow dip in the ground, not
that far beyond the clearing. Donovan's flash, light cut
across, Tangled brush, and damp Earth until it, landed on
something that didn't look right at all.
At first, it seemed like a heap of clothing.
Then I saw a hand Tristan's hand, he wasn't moving.
And as we stumbled closer the shape hovering over him came
into view. If I try to describe it, I never
do it justice. Taller than any person I've met
and lean like it hadn't eaten in weeks though that clearly wasn't
true. It crouched their limbs bent at
angles that didn't belong in a human frame.
The skin looked dark slick and reflective in the faint light.
The head turned stiff, and Silent revealing, an angular
skull-like face with Hollow sockets where I should have
been. No fur, just something stretched
thin over bone. I'm not sure it made any sound.
Maybe there was some wet rustling as it withdrew from
Tristan's body. Something that resembled a
forked tongue flicking about Tristan's chest wasn't hole
anymore. I won't give every detail but
the ground glistened in a way you never want to see around a
friend. Donovan tried to pull me back.
Maybe he whispered, my name, it was hard to tell.
My legs wobbled. I clutched at my pocket where I
shoved that Rose earlier, when we hurried out of the house, The
stems still had thorns and one jabbed into my hand as I,
squeezed it without thinking. The creatures head turned toward
us. It moved with a slow deliberate
care as if studying a curiosity. I fumbled for my phone desperate
for something. Light noise calling for help,
the creature swiped at the air and my phone flew out of my
grip. I heard it crack against a route
without that small comfort of connection.
We were alone with a thing that should not exist.
Then it approached sniffing at the Rose in my hand.
It didn't have a normal nose, but it dipped its head, almost
curious. I gasped tasting iron in the
air, the creature leaned in, and for a dreadful second, I thought
it would tear out my throat. Instead it plucked the rows
away. Then it turned and loped off
arms and legs working together with Eerie Grace, Vanishing Into
Darkness as if it had never been there at all.
Donovan and I collapsed in a ditch. at some point I must have
blacked out because when I opened my eyes again, it was
daytime A ranger found us two days later, we mumbled something
about a bear, although we saw no ordinary animal.
Tristan's body turned up weeks. Afterward miles from where we
left him. Over time doctors and counselors
told me, trauma does strange things to memory.
I tried to believe it was a desperate exaggeration in my
mind. Now though whenever I recall
that night telling you around this fire I can't help but
picture that creatures face and the way it examined that Rose
before slipping back into the Shadows.
I remember the night as if it were etched into the back of my
eyelids. I can't seem to close my eyes
without seeing it again. It was back in late October a
few years ago, when I decided against every nagging Instinct
in my gut to take a week-long solo, hike through the Utah
wilderness. The days were still warm enough
and I thought the Trek might clear my head after a tough
year. you know how it is a few too many disappointments back to
back and you just want to get away from it all at the time, I
never questioned what else might be out there hidden among the
pines and Dusty red stones watching and waiting.
I'd been out for about three days when I first felt it.
The Sensation that something was following me.
Not just following, though. More like stalking keeping
itself, just out of view. The forest was quiet.
That after noon, too quiet. Not a single bird called out,
not a branch snap, not even the wind dared to whistle.
It was as if the entire world was holding its breath.
I wrote it off as nerves. Maybe I was just tired hungry.
But I picked up my Pace, the sun, sank low, stretching out
the Shadows until they looked like, impossibly long fingers
clutching at the ground. I made camp in a small clearing
beside a Creek, Nothing Fancy. My tent was wedged between two
gnarled junipers. The moon was waning but still
bright enough that night. I remember stirring my cup of
instant coffee over my little campfire, listening to the
crackle of burning twigs and the distant Whisper of water
flowing, over Mossy rocks. Suddenly there was a rustle just
beyond the edge of my makeshift light.
I froze spoon halfway to my mouth With a shaky voice.
I called out. Hello, like an idiot.
There was no answer after a few tense moments.
I decided it must have been a raccoon or a fox I forced a half
smile and went back to my coffee, but I was on edge.
Every shadow seemed to move every flicker of the fire danced
like something alive in hungry. Then I heard something else an
animal called. That didn't sit right with me.
It was too human. Sounding like someone imitating
a coyote or a deer Without Really knowing how It made my
teeth, feel sore and the hair on my neck.
Stood on end. I stood up my heart hammering.
Just beyond my campfires reach. I saw a shape and twisted
skulling around the perimeter. I shouted throwing a rock in
that direction it scampered back but not like an animal.
It moved wrong as if the joints were reversed at one point.
It stood on two legs then dropped again to four, then
maybe something else. It never stayed the same.
I tried to focus my eyes but the shadows in my own Terror made it
almost impossible. I backed slowly toward my tent
and grabbed the only weapon I had a trekking pole pathetic.
I know, but it was better than nothing.
The creature, the skinwalker, let out a sword of hiss that
curled my blood Then it mimicked my voice low and warbled calling
my own name back at me. Imagine that for a second.
Your own name repeated in a distorted half human voice from
something lurking in the dark. I can't think of anything more
unnerving. I didn't stay to ask questions.
I lunged into my tent hand shaking so badly I could barely
zip it open. I grabbed my pack fumbled with
the straps and groped wildly for my flashlight.
Meanwhile, the things circled outside each pass sounding
closer, it's breath rasping against the nylon tent walls.
I thought I could see it silhouette press in its long
fingers or claws or whatever, they were tracing along the
fabric. All I could do was hold my
breath begging silently at wooden tear through The stench
that seeped in with it was like rotten leaves and Old Blood
enough to make me gag when it finally went quiet I made a
decision. Staying put would get me killed,
no doubt about it. I switched off my Lantern
slipped out of the tent as silently as I could and made a
break for the creek. I hope the water might mask my
scent or noise. I ran like, I had never run
before crashing through ferns ducking under branches.
Behind me, I heard it shriek like a mocking laughter and then
the sound of something heavy and fast pounding through the brush.
I don't know how long I ran my lungs burned and my legs
threatened to collapse. But somehow I reached a rocky
slope near a ravine. I scrambled up it half climbing,
half crawling on all fours. At the top, I found a narrow
ledge. I pressed myself flat against
The Rock. Praying, it couldn't follow.
And there it was at the bottom prowling, sniffing the air.
In the Moonlight, I caught a glimpse of its face.
If you can call that a face. It looked Almost Human, but the
proportions were wrong. The eyes were too large
reflecting the Moonlight, like an animals and the mouth.
The mouth seems stretched into a grin.
That was part. Snarl full of teeth that didn't
fit right for, what felt like ours, we were locked like that.
Me silent and terrified and pacing below.
I thought at any moment, it would find a way up the ledge,
and I'd be done for. But then maybe because it lost
track of me in the dark or grew bored.
It turned away melting into the Shadows.
Its body shifting shape as it vanished.
I stayed there all night. I didn't dare move until dawn
painted the sky, a safer shade. When I finally climbed down, I
immediately headed back the way I came not caring that my gear
was left behind. Every sound made me.
Jump every stump or Mossy log looked like, it could be that
thing crouched and waiting. I made it out by midday
staggering into a ranger station.
I must have looked wild dirty. Scratched eyes wide as saucers.
I never told them the full truth.
Just said I ran into something out there and lost my gear.
They nodded not asking too many questions.
Maybe they knew better, so that's my story.
And let me tell you even out here safe, by this warm
campfire, surrounded by friends. I still feel a Tremor in my
chest when I think of that creature.
Believe me or don't. But if you ever find yourself
alone in those Utah woods and you hear your name, whispered
back at you in the dark run don't wait and see what happens
next run.