This is a true story that happened to my friend and me in
Cold Creek, Nevada. Her family has a cabin out there
about 30 miles from Las Vegas where we both live.
We plan to spend the night during the full moon because my
friend wanted to do a spell for her cousin.
If you know anything witchy, you'll know doing spells for
other people is generally not a good idea.
We knew that, but I was down to help her out, and besides, I was
excited to get out of the city for a bit.
Crystal warned me ahead of time that the cabin didn't currently
have power or a cell signal, so living at home, I told my
parents they might not hear from me and that I'd be back by the
next afternoon. I also packed extra blankets and
sweaters since no power meant no heat and Nevada nights in autumn
can get cold. We headed out around 5:00 PM
that Friday and started the drive to Cold Creek.
On the way, we grabbed some coffee and left the city lights
behind as we hit the dark, empty highway.
About halfway through the drive, Crystal pointed out the prison
we passed along the way. It's creepy, but whether it's
relevant to what happened later depends on what you believe.
The stars were out and the road looked almost too bright under
the full moon. We drove for another 40 minutes
past the prison before turning onto the dirt Rd. that led to
the cabin. After a drive full of 21 pilots
and Broadway musicals, we finally pulled up.
The first thing that stood out was the big fence surrounding
the property. Crystal hopped out with the car
lights still on and opened the gate so we could drive in.
I noticed right away that there weren't really any neighbors
nearby. The closest house seemed far
enough away that if we screamed, no one would hear us, or if they
did, they probably wouldn't know where it came from.
But of course I wasn't as concerned about that as I
probably should have been. Once Crystal parked the car on
the dirt path, she went to lock the gate while I started
unloading our stuff. It was quiet, with only the
sounds of critters and the faint trickle of a nearby stream.
We left the car lights on, because without them it would
have been pitch black. After locking the gate, Crystal
grabbed a flashlight from the car, turned off the lights, and
we carried our things inside the cabin.
The cabin was cozy as soon as you walked in.
There were stairs leading up to the main floor.
It had a tiny balcony overlooking the fire pit, some
cute pictures on the walls, 1 bed, one couch, and a lot of
candles. We dropped our stuff on the
couch and Crystal grabbed the items she needed for the spell.
It was a love spell for her cousin who was going through a
rough patch in her relationship. The plan was to say a few words
under the full moon, put a picture of her cousin and her
boyfriend in a jar of honey, and seal it with a candle.
Her cousin would then put the jar under their bed to help
strengthen the relationship. Spoiler alert, it didn't work.
She's now happily with a different man and they have a
baby together. With Crystal holding her spell
supplies and me with the flashlight, we went back
outside. She got to work on the fire.
Luckily her family had left plenty of firewood next to the
pit, so we didn't need to look for more while she lit the fire.
I wandered around a bit and left the flashlight by her feet.
The fire pit was about 15 feet from the front door of the
cabin, and about 7 feet away from the pit was a little stream
surrounded by bushes. There was a small wooden board
over the stream, probably for safety, but I didn't feel like
crossing it. The bushes blocked the firelight
and I didn't want to go back for the flashlight.
Plus there was just a strange feeling past that stream.
I couldn't see any other lights near us, and the stars were
bright. It felt like a really nice
evening. Crystal beckoned me over to the
fire to sit and chat for a bit before we were ready to do the
spell. We joked around about past
relationships. I accidentally melted my shoes
on the side of the fire pit trying to warm my toes, and we
sat for an hour or so just talking about nothing important.
Finally, the full moon was at its peak and we were ready to
get started on the spell. I don't remember exactly how the
verbiage for the spell went that Crystal used, but right when she
got the candle wax melting on the top of the jar, it went
quiet. I didn't hear any critters,
owls, or even wind. It was dead silent.
Suddenly we heard a dog whimpering, a faint, pitiful
sound, like a puppy crying for help, from the bushes near the
stream to my left. Crystal and I both stood up
fast, eyes locked on the Bush. My heart started racing.
There was no rustling, no movement.
The crying just echoed out of the darkness.
We listened, frozen for maybe 10 seconds, and then, out of
nowhere, there was the unmistakable sound of something
sprinting at us from behind. The footsteps were heavy, fast.
Without looking, we both bolted for the front door of the cabin,
Crystal a foot or two ahead of me.
I could hear the footsteps right behind me, pounding into the
dirt closer and closer. Whatever it was, it was
breathing hard and ragged, like it was going to grab me at any
second. Crystal yanked open the door,
and as soon as I flew through, she slammed it shut.
Then, Wham, something hit the door full force.
We scrambled to lock the deadbolt and ran upstairs, panic
blurring my thoughts. We were lighting candles,
grabbing flashlights and looking out the windows, but all I could
think was what the hell was that?
I wanted to scream at Crystal, to ask if she saw anything, but
I was too scared to make a sound.
I kept picturing that thing outside, listening.
We crept onto the tiny balcony, armed with a hammer and a whole
lot of fear. Crap, the fire is still going.
Crystal said, her voice low, intense.
I just stared at her. When was there time to put it
out? Do you see anything?
We both leaned over the edges of the balcony, scanning the
darkness. Nothing moved, no shadows, no
figures creeping in the trees. But the silence, oh God, the
silence. It was still there.
No critters, no night sounds, nothing but the quiet murmur of
the stream, and definitely no dog whimpering.
We hurried back inside, locking the balcony door behind us.
We started talking over each other, too freaked out to make
sense of anything. Did you see it?
That wasn't a dog. It sounded like it had two feet.
Where did it come from? Neither of us saw anything, but
we both heard it and whatever it was, it slammed into that door.
Crystal took a deep breath and finally said.
We need to put out the fire. I am not burning down this
entire area just because something is trying to scare us.
That's how people die in horror movies.
I muttered. She ignored me, pointing to the
bucket by the fire. We just need to run out there,
grab the bucket, scoop up water from the stream, pour it on the
fire, and run back. I really didn't want to, but
Crystal was ready to go alone, and that seemed worse somehow.
So, armed with my trusty hammer, we crept outside, every step a
little too loud in the eerie stillness.
Crystal grabbed the bucket, scooped water from the stream,
dumped it on the fire, and we both ran back to the cabin.
This time, nothing followed us. We locked the door again and sat
upstairs, keeping an eye out for any sound, any movement.
I even tried calling 911, hoping Satellite would work, but the
call failed. Crystal tried texting her aunt.
Nothing went through. We couldn't get out, and we
couldn't get anyone in. Eventually, we heard a sound, a
clang. Metal hitting metal.
What could be metal on the House?
I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Crystal thought for a second. The power box.
Clang, clang, clang. We were paralyzed for a moment
before Crystal remembered the window by the bed opened upward.
She crawled over, tried to open it silently, which of course it
wasn't, and we both listened. Silence.
No footsteps, no breathing, just that cold, empty quiet.
We sat there for what felt like hours, just listening.
Eventually, I started hearing animals again.
The soft rustling of night critters, the breeze in the
trees. The adrenaline wore off and I
began to drift off. Crystal kept waking me up, but
by 3:40 AM we were both too exhausted to stay alert.
We fell asleep until the sun came up.
As soon as it was bright enough to see, we packed up.
Crystal loaded the car, and I walked around the property.
I checked the bushes, where we heard the dog.
No sign of anything, not even a paw print.
I went to the power box, saw the rocks had been moved, and found
a wrench sitting on a pile of wood.
No damage to the box though. Then I saw them.
Two shoe prints on the other side of the fence, right where
someone could have watched us through the window by the bed.
I told Crystal what I found and we drove out of there.
I'm not sure what we experienced that night, whether it be a
skinwalker demon or just an escaped convict, but whatever it
was, I'm glad it is in the past. I stood in the backyard, kicking
my son's soccer ball against the wooden fence.
The thud echoed in the quiet evening, the only sound besides
the occasional breeze rustling through the trees.
It was strange being alone in the house.
My kids were spending the weekend with their dad, and the
silence was a little unnerving. The house was too big, too empty
without them. My backyard stretched to the
edge of a steep drop off where thick forest covered the slope
leading down. The air was still, but every
once in a while I felt like something was watching me from
the woods. I had always heard rumors about
this place, how the development was built on an ancient burial
ground. I didn't believe in any of that,
but being alone like this, my mind started wandering.
I kicked the ball one more time and watched it bounce off the
fence. The sun was sinking lower,
painting the sky in soft oranges and pinks.
I needed to do something to keep busy, so I went inside to clean.
I started in the kitchen, wiping down the counters and picking up
stray papers and old takeout containers.
The sound of the mop swishing on the floor was oddly comforting.
The steady rhythm of cleaning took my mind off the silence
that pressed in from every corner of the house.
After a while, the floors were gleaming and I was sweating, so
I decided to reward myself with a swim.
The pool water was cool against my skin as I floated on a tube,
sipping a can of soda. I watched the last bit of
daylight disappear, leaving the sky a deep cyan blue.
Fireflies began to blink in the bushes around the yard, little
flashes of light like tiny cameras snapping photos in the
dark. I was just starting to relax
when something strange happened. A small rock landed in the yard,
splashing into the pool. I sat up, startled.
Another rock followed, hitting the edge of the water.
I looked around, expecting to see the neighbor boys goofing
off, but the rocks were coming from behind the fence and the
slope back there was too steep for anyone to stand on.
My heart started to race. I told myself it was nothing,
probably just some loose gravel falling from the hillside, but I
couldn't shake the weird feeling creeping over me.
As the sun finally set, the pool lights came on, casting a soft
blue glow. But the air around me felt
different now, heavier, colder. Then I smelled it.
The foul stench hit me out of nowhere.
It was so strong it made my stomach turn.
It was like the smell of something dead, something
rotting. The wind picked up, and I could
hear birds suddenly taking off from the trees, as if they were
fleeing from something. That was enough for me.
I scrambled out of the pool, grabbed my towel, and hurried
inside, my heart pounding. I locked the sliding door behind
me, feeling foolish for letting my imagination get the best of
me. But no matter how hard I tried,
I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something wasn't
right. Something was out there.
Later that night, I was still trying to shake the feeling that
something strange had happened by the pool.
The kids weren't home, and I was alone.
But I wasn't really alone. There was something off, and I
couldn't figure out what. I needed a distraction, so I
decided to play some video games.
I curled up on the couch, pulled a soft blanket over me, and
fired up my PlayStation. It was just what I needed.
I got lost in the game, shooting enemies, laughing with friends
over the headset, trying to forget how uneasy I'd felt
outside. Then I heard it.
Mommy. It was faint but clear, a small
voice calling for me, like my daughter when she was scared in
the middle of the night. My heart jumped into my throat.
I paused the game and pulled off my headset, listening.
Nothing. I shook my head, laughing at
myself. You're hearing things, Evelyn.
I muttered. My kids were at their dad's
house, there was no way they could be here.
Still, I couldn't shake the chill that ran down my spine.
I brushed it off and went back to my game.
Minutes passed, and just when I had started to relax again, I
heard it, louder this time. Mommy.
It was definitely my daughter's voice.
I dropped the controller and stood up, my heart pounding.
Lily. I called out, turning toward the
hallway. Lily, is that you?
No answer. I grabbed my phone from the
coffee table, my hands trembling slightly.
Maybe they had come back early. Maybe my ex had dropped them off
while I was too distracted with my game.
I quickly unlocked my phone, but there was no missed call or
message. Then a notification popped up.
A video message from Lily. I opened it and there she was,
skating with her brother at the roller rink, laughing, happy,
nowhere near the house. I felt a cold knot form in my
stomach as I stared at the screen.
My daughter wasn't here, she was miles away, but someone or
something had called my name in her voice.
I whispered to myself. This isn't real, this is just my
mind playing tricks on me. But the room suddenly felt
darker, heavier. I could feel my pulse thumping
in my ears, and I stood there, frozen, listening.
The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating.
Trying to calm myself down, I told myself it had to be some
weird glitch, maybe even in the game.
I was just stressed from being alone for so long.
I took a deep breath and sat back down, putting the headset
on again. But I couldn't focus.
My eyes kept darting toward the dark hallway, waiting for
something to move, for some shadow to shift.
I tried to ignore it, but the hairs on the back of my neck
stood on end and I could feel eyes on me, though I couldn't
see anything. I wasn't alone in this house
anymore. Something else was here.
I could feel it watching, waiting, but what did it want?
I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
I kept telling myself it was nothing, but deep down I knew it
was more than just my imagination.
I tried to distract myself again, this time with some
snacks. Mozzarella sticks and jalapeno
poppers fresh out of the air fryer sounded like just the
thing to calm my nerves. The kitchen felt safe, lit by
the soft glow of the overhead light.
I grabbed a plate and reached for the wine bottle I had opened
earlier. As I poured myself a glass, I
heard it. A knock at the front door.
It was soft at first, just a light tapping, but in the
stillness of the house, it felt loud, like it was coming from
just behind me. I froze, the glass of wine still
in my hand. Who would be knocking at this
hour? The house was far from the road,
and I didn't know anyone in the neighbourhood well enough for
them to drop by unannounced. My stomach tightened with dread,
but I tried to stay calm. Another knock, this time louder,
more urgent. I set the glass down and tiptoed
toward the door. Grabbing the baseball bat I kept
near the entrance, I peered through the peephole.
No one was there. I felt my heart race as I
hesitated, the silence thickening around me.
Help me, please. A man's voice cried out from the
other side of the door. It was shaky, desperate.
My grip on the bat tightened as I considered opening it.
The voice sounded like my neighbor, Mr. Miller, but that
didn't make sense. He and his family had moved away
months ago. The knocking grew louder, almost
angry now. Please, I need help.
My pulse quickened. There was no way it was Mr.
Miller. It couldn't be.
My mind raced with possibilities.
An intruder, a prank, or something worse.
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my nerves.
I had to do something. Slowly, I unlocked the door, bat
raised just in case. With a deep breath, I flung it
open, ready to defend myself. Nothing.
The yard was empty, the street silent.
Not a single person. Insight.
Just the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze.
I stepped out onto the porch, looking around, but the only
movement was a couple of possums darting across the lawn.
I slammed the door shut, locking it again.
My heart was racing and my breath came in quick, shallow
gasps. What was happening?
Was I losing my mind? I backed away from the door,
feeling a chill crawl up my spine.
The air in the house seemed colder now, heavier.
My mind kept racing back to the voice, how familiar it had
sounded, how real. Then I heard it again, this time
from behind me. Please help me.
I spun around, bat still in hand, but there was no one
there. My body trembled with fear as I
scanned the empty living room. My throat tightened as I
realized the voice wasn't coming from outside anymore.
It was inside the house. The voice was inside.
My whole body froze. I stood in the living room,
gripping the baseball bat so tightly my knuckles turned
white. The silence after the voice
echoed through the house felt suffocating, like the walls were
closing in on me. My mind raced, trying to make
sense of it. How could anyone have gotten
inside? I backed away slowly, my eyes
darting around the room. Every shadow seemed darker,
every corner hiding something I couldn't see.
The air was thick with dread, and my breath came in short,
sharp gasps. I had to get out, but I couldn't
move. A faint tapping sound came from
the kitchen. It was soft, like fingers
drumming on glass. I turned toward the sound, my
heart hammering in my chest. Slowly, I crept toward the
kitchen, each step feeling heavier than the last.
The tapping continued, rhythmic and steady.
As I reached the doorway, I saw it.
Standing outside the glass patio door was a figure, a tall, dark
silhouette with glowing yellow eyes.
It stood completely still, its gaze locked on me.
I couldn't make out its features, but those eyes, they
were wrong. Too bright, too focused.
My stomach twisted in fear. I stumbled backward, dropping
the bat. The figure didn't move.
It just watched me, unblinking, like it was waiting for
something. I didn't know what to do.
I wanted to scream, but my voice was stuck in my throat.
Suddenly, the door creaked open. I hadn't touched it, I hadn't
unlocked it, but the door swung open, letting in a rush of cold
air that carried the unmistakable smell of rotting
meat. I gagged, covering my mouth with
my hand as my mind screamed at me to run.
The figure took a step forward. Without thinking, I bolted up
the stairs, my feet pounding against the wooden steps.
I could hear something following me, its footsteps heavy and slow
but steady. Like it wasn't in a rush.
Like it knew I had nowhere to go.
I slammed the door to my bedroom and locked it, leaning against
it as I tried to catch my breath.
I grabbed my phone and frantically dialed my daughter,
hoping her voice would bring me some comfort.
When she answered, her sleepy voice was a brief relief.
Hi, Mommy, she said, yawning. What's wrong?
I just, I wanted to hear your voice, I whispered, trying to
keep the panic out of my voice. I miss you.
As I spoke to her, I heard it again.
Footsteps right outside my door, slow, deliberate.
I clutched the phone, my heart pounding in my ears.
Mommy, are you OK? She asked.
I'm fine, sweetie, I'll call you in the morning, OK?
I hung up, my hands shaking. The footsteps stopped, but the
silence was even worse. I could feel it, the presents
just outside the door. I grabbed the shotgun from my
closet, my fingers trembling as I loaded it.
Then the doorknob turned. I aimed the gun, waiting for it
to open, but the door didn't move.
I took a step forward, my breath shaky.
Suddenly the door creaked open a crack, and I saw it, yellow eyes
glowing in the darkness. I fired, but the blast hit
nothing but shadows. A cold, Bony hand grabbed my
shoulder, and I spun around, but no one was there.
The lights flickered off, and the room was plunged Into
Darkness. In the faint glow from my phone,
I saw them. Figures moving through the room,
their eyes glowing, their bodies contorted and wrong.
I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the darkness as
they closed in. I never should have stayed here
alone. It was a quiet night in Oak
Hollow, almost too quiet. The moon was full, shining so
brightly that everything outside looked almost like it was
daytime. I had just finished tucking my
kids, Elliot and Nina, into bed. They fell asleep quickly,
especially with the lullaby I sang them.
Mira, my wife, sat beside them, gently running her fingers
through their hair. She was tired, I could tell.
Life on the farm was tough, and every day seemed to wear her
down a little more. I stood up, gave my kids one
last kiss on their foreheads, and stepped back.
Mira smiled at me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.
She didn't say anything, but I knew what she was thinking.
She wanted to rest, and so did I.
The house felt warm and safe, like nothing could disturb us.
Even outside, there was hardly any wind.
The maize field stood tall and still under the moonlight, and
Rusty, our dog, was out there with the cattle, keeping watch.
Everything felt peaceful for a moment.
I let out a sigh and wrapped my arms around Mira.
She leaned into me, resting her head against my chest.
We didn't speak. We didn't need to.
I closed my eyes, letting the calm of the night wash over me.
That's when I heard it. The sound.
It was faint, like a quick gust of wind moving through the maze,
but it was enough to make me tense up.
I opened my eyes and looked out the window.
At first, everything seemed normal, The field stretched out
into the distance, bathed in the moon's glow.
But something felt wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it,
but the peaceful feeling from a few moments ago was gone.
My heart started beating a little faster.
I scanned the fields again, looking for any sign of
movement. And then, just as I was about to
turn away, I saw it. A faint shimmer, like a pair of
red eyes reflecting the moonlight.
They were small, but they were there, watching.
I pulled away from Mira, my throat dry.
She gave me a confused look as I stepped closer to the window.
What is it? She asked, her voice sleepy.
Stay with the kids. I said, my voice barely a
whisper. What, why?
She asked, sounding more awake now.
There's something out there. I muttered, still staring at
those glowing eyes. Mira looked at me like I was
crazy, but then Rusty started barking.
It wasn't his normal bark, it was loud, panicked.
He was scared and I could feel my own fear rising inside me.
Mira's eyes widened. Is it?
No. I cut her off, knowing she was
thinking about her brother Jonah, who had been missing for
a month. It's not him.
Rusty kept barking, his howls echoing in the still night.
The sound sent shivers down my spine.
Something was out there, something that shouldn't be.
I didn't know what it was, but I knew one thing for sure.
It was dangerous, and it was getting closer.
I turned to Mira. Lock the door, don't open it
unless I say so. And with that, I grabbed the
nearest thing I could use as a weapon and move toward the
stairs. Whatever was out there, I had to
stop it from getting any closer to my family.
Rusty's barking was getting louder, more frantic.
My heart pounded in my chest as I stepped away from the window.
Mira stood frozen near the kids, her face pale with fear.
She wasn't used to seeing me like this, worried, on edge, but
there was something out there, something bad.
Liam, what's going on? She whispered, her voice shaky.
Do you think it's Jonah? I shook my head quickly, though
a small part of me wished it were true.
Jonah, her brother, had been missing for weeks.
Some people in Oak Hollow thought he'd run away.
Others whispered darker things, things I didn't want to believe.
But no, this wasn't Jonah. Whatever was out there wasn't
human. Rusty's barking suddenly
stopped, and the silence that followed was even more
terrifying. I rushed to the front door,
grabbing the biggest piece of wood I could find.
It wasn't much of A weapon, just a broken leg from an old chair,
but it was all I had. I shoved the cot against the
door to block it, just in case. My hands shook, but I tried to
focus. I thought back to the last time
I'd seen Jonah. He had looked different that
day, scared, like something was haunting him.
It was after one of the villagers went missing and Jonah
had come back covered in blood. I still remember the panic in
his eyes when I asked him what happened.
I don't know, he had said, trembling.
It wasn't an animal. It was something.
Something else. At the time, I didn't believe
him. I thought maybe the stress of
the disappearances had gotten to him, but now, staring out into
the dark fields, I wondered if Jonah had been right.
What if something had been stalking Oak Hollow this whole
time? What if it was here now,
circling my house? A loud crash from the shed
jolted me out of my thoughts. My breath caught in my throat.
I could hear rustling, like something was moving inside.
Rusty wasn't barking anymore. My stomach turned as I realized
what that meant. Liam.
Mira's voice broke through the quiet.
She was still standing by the bed, holding the kids close.
Their eyes were wide with fear, even though they didn't fully
understand what was happening. I'm going to check the shed.
I said, though I wasn't sure how I'd stop whatever was in there.
Just stay here, lock the door, be careful.
She whispered, her voice barely audible.
I nodded, swallowing hard. I knew what I had to do, but
fear gripped me like a vice. I pushed the cot further against
the door, then moved toward the window.
Peeking outside, the moonlight cast long shadows across the
maize field, and the wind made the plants sway just enough to
create a soft rustling sound. But then, through the darkness,
I saw it. Something was moving out there.
Big. Too big to be any animal I knew.
Its shadow stretched across the field, long and distorted.
My breath caught as I watched it head toward the shed.
I couldn't see its full shape, just flashes of a hunched body
and legs too thin to support something that large.
And then, as I stared in horror, I heard it.
The sound of tearing flesh rusty was gone.
My stomach churned, but I knew I couldn't turn back now.
Whatever this thing was, it was coming closer.
And if it reached the house, we'd all be next.
The sound of tearing flesh echoed in my ears, and my
stomach twisted in knots. Rusty was gone.
Whatever had taken him was still out there, lurking in the
darkness. I couldn't let it get any closer
to the house. I gripped the broken chair leg
tightly in my hand, trying to steady my shaking fingers.
My heart was racing so fast it felt like it might burst out of
my chest. I took a deep breath and peeked
through the window again. The moonlight bathed the field
in an eerie, pale glow, and for a second, everything was still.
But then I saw it. A massive shadow creeping
through the maze. It moved unnaturally fast, its
limbs long and gangly. I couldn't see its face, but I
could feel its presence, cold and wrong.
My mind raced back to what Jonah had said, how he'd sworn it
wasn't an animal that attacked the villager.
I hadn't believed him then, but now I wasn't so sure.
Mira's voice broke through my thoughts.
Liam, what's happening? I turned to look at her.
She was holding the kids tightly, her eyes wide with
fear. I wanted to reassure her, to
tell her everything was going to be OK, but I couldn't lie, not
now. Stay with the kids.
I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Whatever you do, don't come downstairs.
Her face paled, but she nodded. I knew she was scared, and so
was I, but I had to keep them safe.
I had to face whatever was out there.
I crept toward the door, careful not to make any noise.
The wooden floor creaked beneath my feet, and I winced.
I reached the front door and placed my hand on the latch,
pausing for a moment. My mind flashed back to Evan, my
traveler friend, and his crazy stories he told me about
creatures. Monsters he called them.
Things that hid in the shadows of places like Oak Hollow.
At the time, I'd laughed it off. Now, staring at the door, I
wasn't laughing any more. With a deep breath, I slowly
lifted the latch and cracked the door open just enough to peer
outside. The night air was cold and the
silence felt heavy, like the world was holding its breath.
I could see the shed from where I stood, but the door was
smashed open, hanging loosely on its hinges.
Whatever had torn through it wasn't human.
I stepped outside, my bare feet crunching on the dry grass.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt that primal
fear creeping in again. And then I saw it.
The creature stepped into the moonlight, and my breath caught
in my throat. It was huge, towering, with a
hunched back and long, sinewy arms that dragged near the
ground. Its skin was a sickly grey,
covered in patches of matted fur, and its face.
Its face was twisted like a wolf and a man had been fused
together in some horrible way. Its eyes glowed red and it held
Rusty's head in one of its claws.
I froze. My mind screamed at me to run,
but my legs wouldn't move. The creature sniffed the air,
its eyes locking on to me. A low growl rumbled from its
throat, and I knew in that moment this thing wasn't just
hunting for food. It was enjoying this.
I gripped the chair leg tighter, knowing it wouldn't do much, but
I had to try. I had to protect my family.
The beast took a step toward me, its growl turning into a snarl.
This was it. It was either me or the monster,
and I wasn't planning on losing. The beast's red eyes locked onto
mine, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest like a
drum. It stood there for what felt
like forever, just staring, almost like it was deciding how
to tear me apart. My grip tightened on the broken
chair leg, though I knew it wouldn't be enough.
But I didn't have a choice. I had to stand between this
thing and my family. I had to protect them.
The creature took a slow step forward, and its snarl grew
louder, more menacing. The sound sent a chill through
my entire body. I glanced back at the house,
knowing Mira and the kids were huddled together upstairs,
terrified. I couldn't let this thing get to
them. With every ounce of courage I
could find, I raised the chair leg and shouted.
Stay back. The creature paused, its head
tilting slightly like it was surprised.
Then it let out a low, guttural laugh.
The sound was inhuman, twisted. My hands were trembling, but I
couldn't back down. I took a step toward it,
swinging the chair leg in the air, trying to make myself look
bigger, braver, but it didn't care.
In a flash, the creature lunged at me, its claws slashing
through the air. I barely had time to react,
swinging the chair leg as hard as I could.
I felt it connect with the creature's side, and for a
moment, I thought I might have heard it, but the beast didn't
even flinch. Its massive hand caught me in
the shoulder, sending me flying backward.
Pain exploded through my body as I hit the ground, gasping for
air. Before I could get up, it was on
me, towering over me like a shadow of death.
Its claws pressed into my chest, pinning me to the ground.
I struggled, trying to push it off, but it was so strong, and I
was so weak. Its breath was hot and foul, and
I could feel the weight of its body crushing me.
I thought about Mira, about Elliot and Nina.
I couldn't let them be next. With one last burst of strength,
I grabbed the chair leg again and jammed it into the
creature's face. It howled in pain, stumbling
back just enough for me to scramble to my feet.
I took off toward the house, my heart racing, my shoulder
burning with pain. I could hear the beast's heavy
footsteps behind me, closing in fast.
I barely made it to the front door, slamming it shut behind me
and locking it. My chest heaved as I listened,
waiting for the sound of the creature attacking the door, but
instead, there was silence. That's when I heard it.
A distant howl, long and mournful, echoing through the
night. Then another, and another.
My blood ran cold. There wasn't just one of them.
There were more out there in the darkness, coming closer.
I backed away from the door, my legs trembling.
I heard Mira whisper my name from upstairs, but I couldn't
move. My eyes were glued to the door,
waiting, listening. The final howl rang out, so loud
and close it made the walls shake.
They were here. The sun was shining through the
trees when I started my hike in Bison Grove Forest.
It seemed peaceful at first, exactly what I needed after the
past few weeks. Work had been stressful, my
girlfriend had broken up with me, and I couldn't shake the
feeling that I didn't belong anywhere.
I figured a walk in the woods would help me clear my head,
maybe give me a break from all the noise in my life.
The path was quiet, with only the sound of birds and the
crunch of leaves under my boots. The trees, tall towering oaks
and thin Birch trees, stretched high above their branches, Criss
crossing like a giant leafy ceiling.
I felt small beneath them, but the quiet was nice.
It was calming at first. As I walked deeper into the
forest, things started to change.
The sun, which had been bright and warm, began to fade behind
thick clouds. The air grew cooler, and the
silence became heavier. I couldn't hear the birds
anymore. The only sound was my own
breathing, which seemed louder than it should have been.
I paused and looked around. The trees now seemed closer
together, their branches reaching out like fingers trying
to block out the sky. The path I'd been following was
harder to see. The ground was covered in thick
roots and tangled brush, and every step felt like it was
pulling me deeper into the woods.
I couldn't tell if it was my imagination or not, but
something about the forest seemed different, darker.
I checked my phone. No signal.
Of course, I wasn't worried yet, but the unease was creeping in
my mind played tricks on me, making me think.
I saw movement in the shadows, but every time I turned to look,
there was nothing, just trees. Still, I couldn't shake the
feeling that something or someone was watching me.
I kept walking, telling myself I was just overthinking it, but
the deeper I went, the worse it got.
The air felt thick, almost like it was pressing down on me.
My footsteps seemed too loud, and the silence around me was
almost unnatural, like the forest was holding its breath.
I had a growing sense that I shouldn't be there.
That's when I saw it. Through the trees, hidden behind
thick branches and leaves, there was something towering.
At first I thought it was a tree stump or some rock formation,
but as I got closer I realized it was an old signal tower.
Tall and crumbling, the thing looked ancient, like it had been
forgotten by the world a long time ago.
Rust covered the metal and vines crawled up the sides, wrapping
around it like they were trying to pull it back into the earth.
I should have turned around right then.
Every part of me screamed to go back to leave the tower in the
forest behind. But instead, I stood there,
staring at it. Something about it pulled me in,
like I needed to know more. Before I knew it, I was walking
toward it, my steps slow and careful, the feeling of being
watched stronger than ever. When I reached the door, my hand
hesitated on the rusted handle. The air around me felt cold,
colder than it should have been for a summer evening.
I knew deep down that opening that door would change
everything, but I opened it anyway.
The door creaked loudly as I pushed it open, the sound
echoing through the dark space beyond.
My heart was racing, and part of me was screaming to run, but
something stronger, curiosity maybe, kept me rooted to the
spot. The air inside the tower was
freezing, and it smelled old, like damp wood and rusted metal.
I took a step inside and the door slammed shut behind me, the
noise like a gunshot in the silence.
I jumped, spinning around to see the door.
It looked different somehow, heavier, darker.
I grabbed the handle, but it wouldn't budget.
Panic shot through me as I yanked harder.
Nothing, I was trapped. Calm down, I muttered to myself,
my voice shaky. It's just a stuck door.
But it didn't feel that simple. The air was thick, pressing in
on me, and the tower itself seemed to pulse like it was
alive. I could hear a faint whispering
like voices, but I couldn't make out any words.
My stomach twisted as I turned away from the door and faced the
inside of the tower. It was bigger than it should
have been. From the outside, the tower had
looked old and narrow, but inside the space stretched
farther than I could see. The walls were made of stone
now, not the brick I'd seen before, and they seemed to shift
like shadows were crawling across them.
Shattered wood and rusted metal littered the floor, along with
bones. Tiny broken pieces of what
looked like animal bones were scattered everywhere.
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the growing fear in my
chest. I had to get out of here.
I walked forward, my footsteps echoing strangely, the sound
bouncing off the stone walls in a way that didn't make sense.
The further I went, the darker it got.
I tried to use the flashlight on my phone, but the light barely
cut through the thick shadows. Every time I thought I saw
something move in the corner of my eye, I'd whip around only to
find more darkness. That's when the whispering
started to grow louder. At first it was just a soft hum
in the back of my mind, but now it was like 100 voices all
speaking at once, their words blending together.
I could almost hear them clearly, but not quite.
The more I tried to listen, the more my head hurt.
You won't be leaving. The words hit me like a punch to
the gut. I froze.
I didn't know where the voice had come from, but it was close.
Too close. My hands shook as I looked
around, trying to see something, anything in the darkness.
The walls shifted again, closing in on me.
I turned to run back toward the door, but the hallway stretched
out, impossibly long and winding.
The entrance was gone, replaced by an endless corridor.
The shadows seemed to ripple and twist, and my head spun as I
tried to focus. I was losing it.
The tower. It was changing and I was
trapped inside. There was no way out.
Calm down. I whispered to myself again, but
I knew it wouldn't help. My voice sounded hollow, like it
wasn't even mine anymore. I don't know how long I had been
walking down that endless corridor.
Time felt twisted in this place. The air was suffocating, heavy
with the smell of rot and something else, something
metallic. My head was pounding and every
step felt like I was being dragged further into something I
didn't understand. The whispers never stopped.
They were always there, just on the edge of my hearing, taunting
me. Suddenly, I stumbled into a new
room. It was stark and cold,
completely different from the decaying tower I had been moving
through. The stone walls were gone,
replaced by smooth white walls that seemed to glow under harsh,
flickering lights. In the center of the room was a
single metal chair, and sitting in that chair was me.
I froze, my heart thudding in my chest.
The person in the chair looked exactly like me, but older.
His face was hollow, his skin pale and stretched tight over
his bones. His eyes, my eyes, were sunken
and lifeless, and his lips curled into a cruel smile as he
looked at me. What is this?
I whispered, stepping back. My whole body was shaking.
The older version of me tilted his head, still smiling, but it
was a twisted, horrible expression.
You know what this is. He said, his voice low and
raspy. It's time.
Time for what? My voice cracked as I backed up
further, bumping into the cold walls.
I couldn't stop staring at him. He looked like a version of me
from some nightmare. For you to sit.
He said simply, motioning to the chair in front of him.
We all do, eventually. I shook my head, trying to make
sense of the words, but they felt wrong, heavy with meaning.
I didn't want to understand. I'm not.
I'm not going to sit in that chair.
The smile on his face grew wider and the whispers around me
intensified, almost like they were laughing.
You will. You can't resist it.
The tower, it chooses us, it keeps us.
And now it's your turn. His words sent a chill down my
spine, and suddenly the room felt even smaller, like the
walls were pressing in on me. I took another step back, but my
legs felt weak, like something was pulling me toward the chair.
I tried to fight it, but with every second it became harder to
resist. My body felt like it didn't
belong to me anymore, like the tower had control over me now.
No, I muttered, shaking my head, my breath coming out in short
gasps. This isn't happening, This can't
be real. The older version of me just
watched, his eyes dark and empty.
It's already happening. I turned, trying to find another
way out, but the door I had entered through was gone,
replaced by smooth white walls that went on forever.
I was trapped. The whispers were louder now,
clearer. Sit, they hissed.
Join us. My legs moved on their own,
carrying me toward the chair. No matter how much I tried to
fight, I could feel the weight of the tower pressing down on
me, squeezing the air from my lungs.
I wasn't going to make it out of here.
I don't know how it happened, but suddenly I wasn't moving
toward the chair anymore. The pressure holding me seemed
to lift just a little. I could finally breathe, though
the air was still heavy and cold.
That's when I heard the door creak open behind me.
I spun around. A young man stood in the
doorway, blinking in confusion, just like I had when I first
entered this horrible place. He was about my age, maybe a
little younger, with a backpack slung over his shoulder.
He looked like he had no idea what was happening.
A wave of relief rushed over me, but with it came something else,
something darker. This stranger, he was my way
out. The whispers around me faded,
and for the first time I felt something like hope.
But it wasn't the kind of hope I expected.
It felt wrong, like it didn't belong to me.
It was the Tower. It was offering me a choice.
I knew what it meant, I could leave, but only if someone took
my place. The young man looked at me, his
eyes wide with fear. What is this place?
He asked, his voice shaky. How do we get out?
I opened my mouth to tell him the truth, to warn him, but the
words wouldn't come. Instead, I felt myself step
forward. My hand reached out and rested
on his shoulder. It felt cold, like something
inside me had already changed. It's your time now, I whispered.
The moment I said those words, I felt a strange heavyweight lift
off me. The pressure, the whispers, the
feeling of being trapped, they all began to fade, as if the
tower had loosened its grip on me.
The young man's face paled, and I could see the terror in his
eyes. I knew exactly what he was
feeling, because I'd felt it too.
He tried to step back, but it was too late.
The tower had him now, just like it had me.
He was already being pulled toward the chair, his feet
moving against his will. His breaths came out in ragged
gasps as he struggled to break free, but there was no escape.
I knew that all too well. I watched as he sat down, his
body shaking just like mine had. The whispers grew louder again,
circling him now, ignoring me. I was free.
I didn't waste any time. I turned and bolted toward the
door, the exit that had reappeared as soon as the young
man stepped inside. I could feel the cool night air
just beyond the threshold calling to me.
My heart pounded in my chest as I ran out of the tower and into
the forest. The forest was quiet, almost
peaceful with moonlight streaming through the trees.
The oppressive feeling from before was gone.
The air was lighter, and I could breathe again, but even as I
stood there, gasping for air, I knew that I wasn't the same.
I had escaped, yes, but at a cost.
Someone else was trapped in the tower now, doomed to the same
fate I had just narrowly escaped.
I glanced back at the signal tower, now barely visible in the
distance, shrouded in darkness. I had gotten away this time, but
I knew deep down that the tower was still there, waiting.
Next time, I might not be so lucky.
I turned and walked away, the weight of what I had done
pressing on me like a shadow I couldn't shake.
The forest felt different, but not in a good way.
I was free, but I wasn't sure I could ever truly escape what I'd
become. I've lived on this land for as
long as I can remember. The wide open fields in the
gentle Creek running through the middle of our Idaho property
always made it feel peaceful, like nothing bad could ever
happen here. But the northern edge of our
land was different. There's a patch of thick woods,
about 10 acres or so, that I've always avoided.
As a kid, I'd run around the Creek, climb trees, and explore
every corner of our property except for those woods.
It wasn't like anyone ever told me to stay away from them.
I just knew. The trees there grew so close
together, their branches twisting overhead, making it
dark even in the middle of the day.
The underbrush was so thick and tangled that trying to get
through felt impossible. Plus, there were thorny bushes
and plants that my mom said were poisonous.
I wasn't stupid. I knew better than to mess
around in there. Still, even without going in,
the woods made me uneasy. Sometimes when I'd be walking
along the edge, I'd get this weird feeling like I wasn't
alone, like something was watching me.
I'd never see anything, of course, it was just a feeling,
but it was enough to keep me away.
That's why it was so strange when one day, out of nowhere, I
felt this pull to go into the woods.
It didn't make any sense. I hadn't thought about those
trees in years, but that afternoon I couldn't stop
thinking about them. The more I tried to shake the
thought, the stronger the urge got.
Finally, I grabbed the hatchet we use for chopping wood and
headed toward the woods, telling myself I'd just take a quick
look just along the outer edge. Nothing crazy.
The minute I stepped into the trees, though, the air felt
different. Heavier.
It was quiet, too. No birds chirping, no wind
rustling the leaves. Just silence.
I started cutting through some of the thick brambles with the
hatchet, pushing deeper in than I had ever gone before.
The farther I got, the more uneasy I felt, but I couldn't
stop. Then all of a sudden, I stumbled
into a small clearing I hadn't expected to find.
It was like the woods had just opened up around me, the trees
standing back as if to make space for this one spot.
And that's when I saw it. A backpack.
An old, dirty, mud stained backpack sitting right in the
middle of the clearing. Next to it was a small doll, its
face smudged and faded, and a rusted canteen lying on its
side. I stared at them for a long
time, trying to figure out why they were there.
This part of the woods hadn't been touched in years.
No one ever came back here. For some reason, the sight of
those things made my skin crawl. I wanted to believe it was just
old camping gear someone had left behind, but it didn't feel
right. Especially because from the
clearing, I could see my house perfectly.
It was like whoever had been here before had been watching.
Watching my home. I turned and hurried back out of
the woods, my heart racing. Even after I got back to the
house, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was
wrong. Something about that clearing
was off, and deep down I knew it wasn't over.
After I found that old backpack and the creepy clearing, I tried
to forget about it. I told myself it was just a
weird coincidence, some abandoned stuff left by a camper
or something. I mean, it wasn't like I saw
anything truly scary, right? But no matter how hard I tried,
I couldn't get the image of that muddy backpack and dirty doll
out of my head. Every time I closed my eyes, I
saw them sitting there perfectly still, like they were waiting
for someone to come back. The days passed, but the feeling
that something was wrong kept creeping up on me.
I avoided the woods completely, not even walking near them
anymore. Whenever I was outside, I felt
like someone or something was watching me from the trees.
I'd turn around and stare into the thick shadows, but there was
never anything there, at least not that I could see.
Then one evening, something happened that I still can't
explain. It was late, just after sunset,
the sky was fading to a deep purple, and I was heading back
to the house after taking out the trash.
I don't know why, but I glanced toward the woods.
That's when I saw them. Two glowing yellow eyes staring
back at me from deep in the trees.
At first I thought it must be an animal, maybe a raccoon or a
deer. But those eyes, they were so
bright, like they were shining from within, and they were
watching me. I froze, my heart pounding so
hard I thought it might burst. I wanted to run, but I couldn't
move. I just stood there, staring into
the darkness, waiting for whatever it was to make a move.
Then, just like that, the eyes were gone.
One second they were there, the next they weren't.
I blinked and squinted, trying to see if I'd imagined it, but
the woods were still nothing but shadows and trees.
My legs finally unfroze and I sprinted back to the house,
slamming the door behind me. Inside, I tried to calm myself
down. I told myself it was just an
animal, maybe a trick of the light.
But deep down I knew something was off.
Those eyes hadn't looked like any animal I'd ever seen, and
the way they vanished so suddenly, it felt wrong.
I thought about telling someone, maybe my parents, but what would
I say? Hey, I saw some creepy eyes in
the woods. They'd just think I was
overreacting. Besides, what could they do
about it? It wasn't like the police would
come out for something like that.
Over the next few weeks, I couldn't shake the feeling of
being watched. Every time I was outside, I
could feel those eyes on me, even when I couldn't see them.
I tried to convince myself that I was just imagining things,
that the woods weren't dangerous, but the unease grew,
gnawing at me like a shadow that wouldn't go away.
I told myself I wouldn't go back into the woods.
Whatever was out there, it wasn't worth finding out.
But deep down, I knew something was waiting, and it wouldn't
stay hidden forever. Things started to feel a little
more normal after Marcus moved in.
Marcus was my best friend from childhood, and having him around
made the whole situation with the woods seem less intense.
He brought this energy to the place, always wanting to be
outside hiking or riding his bike.
He didn't believe me when I told him about the backpack or the
glowing eyes. He just laughed and said I'd
been spending too much time alone.
I wanted to believe he was right, that I had just
overreacted, so I showed him the clearing.
We went out there one afternoon and I pointed out where I'd
found the backpack and the doll. He didn't seem bothered at all,
in fact, he found the whole thing amusing.
This is what freaked you out? He asked, chuckling as he kicked
some dirt over the spot. It's probably just some old
campers junk, no big deal. We tossed the backpack, the
doll, and the rusty canteen into a dumpster near the house, and
for a moment I actually felt relieved, like maybe it was all
just a weird misunderstanding. Marcus didn't waste any time
after that. He decided he was going to make
a new trail through the woods for mountain biking.
Might as well put these creepy woods to good use, he joked.
Every weekend, he worked on clearing a path, chopping down
branches, pulling out undergrowth and making a winding
trail through the trees. I wasn't thrilled about it.
But seeing Marcus's enthusiasm made it harder to stay scared.
Maybe the woods really weren't so bad.
Then, one Sunday, Marcus disappeared.
That morning, Marcus went out early to work on the trail while
I stayed in the house. The hours passed, and I didn't
think much of it. He was always out there for most
of the day, but as the sun started to set, I realized I
hadn't heard from him in hours. No sound of his bike, no calls
for help moving logs, Nothing. I stepped outside, calling his
name. Nothing.
His tools were still scattered near the edge of the woods, and
his bike leaned against a tree, untouched.
My stomach twisted with a familiar unease.
I grabbed a flashlight and headed into the woods, my heart
pounding harder with every step. I followed the trail Marcus had
been making, calling his name over and over.
The woods were so quiet, like they were holding their breath.
Then I saw it. Marcus's bike, lying on its
side. The frame was bent and twisted,
like it had been thrown with force.
Something about it didn't look like an accident.
I yelled for Marcus again, panic rising in my throat, but the
only sound was the eerie rustling of leaves in the wind.
By the time I bolted out of the woods and called the police, it
was nearly dark. They searched for days using
drones and search dogs, but they never found a single trace of
him. It was like he'd just vanished
into thin air. The police said they'd keep
investigating, but I could tell they didn't think they'd find
anything. Weeks passed and Marcus was
still gone. I couldn't stop thinking about
the twisted bike and the silence in those woods.
Something had happened to him out there, something no one
could explain, and whatever it was, I knew it wasn't over.
Weeks had passed since Marcus disappeared, but I couldn't let
it go. Every day I thought about him,
about how we had been laughing 1 moment and then he was just
gone. The police stopped coming by
after a while, and everyone seemed to move on, but I
couldn't. I couldn't stop thinking about
the woods. I knew something was out there,
something they hadn't found. One afternoon, after pacing
around the house for what felt like hours, I grabbed my
flashlight and headed back into the woods.
I don't know why I kept going back.
Maybe I thought I could find some clue the police had missed,
or maybe I just needed to feel like I was doing something.
But this time, as I followed the path Marcus had been cutting, I
noticed something that made my heart drop.
The same mud stained backpack was back, sitting right in the
middle of the clearing. I froze.
We had thrown that thing away weeks ago, I was sure of it.
I even remembered Marcus laughing as we tossed it in the
dumpster. But here it was, in the exact
same spot I had found it the first time, looking just as
filthy and out of place as before.
My breath caught in my throat. The air around me felt thicker,
like it was pressing down on me. I took a shaky step toward the
backpack, and that's when I heard it.
Marcus's voice. Help me.
It came from deeper in the woods, faint and distorted.
I stopped in my tracks, my heart pounding in my ears.
Marcus. I shouted, spinning around,
trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.
Marcus, where are you? Help me.
The voice came again, but it wasn't right.
It was like someone was trying to sound like Marcus, but it was
off. The pitch was too low, and the
words dragged like they were being stretched out.
My skin prickled with fear. That's when I saw them again,
The yellow eyes. They were closer this time, just
beyond the trees, glowing in the shadows.
My flashlight flickered, the beam shaking as I held it toward
the woods. The eyes didn't move.
They just stared at me, unblinking, glowing brighter
with each second. I backed away, my heart racing.
The voice came again, closer this time.
Help me. But it wasn't Marcus.
I knew it wasn't. I turned and ran, my feet
pounding the dirt path as I bolted out of the clearing.
Branches snapped behind me and I could hear something, No,
someone following me. I didn't dare look back.
I just ran, faster than I ever had in my life, not stopping
until I was back at the house. I slammed the door shut and
locked it, my hands shaking. I stood there in the dark,
listening for anything outside. Silence, but I knew it was out
there. I could feel it, waiting,
watching. That night, I didn't sleep.
I couldn't. I sat by the window, staring out
at the woods, waiting for something to move.
Something wasn't right, and whatever had taken Marcus, it
wasn't done yet. I don't know what it is, but
it's out there lurking and it's watching me now.