We had been looking forward to this trip for months.
Camping always made me feel alive, like we could escape from
the world for a while, just me, Bill and his parents.
But the moment we pulled up to the campground, something felt
wrong. I don't know why, but when we
stepped out of the car and my boots sank into the mud, this
strange feeling hit me. The lake, which was supposed to
be our little escape, had completely flooded the beach we
were excited about gone, just a mushy, waterlogged mess, and
there were only three campsites still usable.
Ours. One next to it and another a bit
farther off, maybe 100 feet away, the rest underwater or two
soaked to even think about. Bill was his usual optimistic
self, though he shrugged like it was no big deal.
We'll make it work, Sarah, He said, smiling at me like I was
being dramatic. I wanted to believe him, but I
couldn't shake this weird feeling that something wasn't
right. It was way too quiet.
Like unnaturally quiet. No birds, no breeze, just
stillness. I mean, we were in the middle of
the woods by a huge lake. There should have been.
Sounds right? Anyway, we started setting up
camp, trying to make the best of it.
Bill's parents were off doing their own thing, totally at
ease, but I couldn't stop looking around, scanning the
tree line like something was going to jump out at us.
Paranoid, maybe, but I couldn't help it.
Something was nagging at me. Then, around 7:00 PM, this rusty
old sedan pulled up into the campsite right next to ours.
I remember Bill and I just kind of exchanged a glance.
It wasn't exactly the kind of car you'd expect for a camping
trip, you know? But what really threw me was the
couple who got out middle-aged, but like, really rough around
the edges. Their clothes were wrinkled,
like they'd been living in them for days.
The guy was tall, stiff, didn't make eye contact with anyone.
The woman, same. Like they were just going
through the motions. I mean, they didn't even look at
each other. Who does that?
I tried not to stare, but it was hard not to.
They didn't bring anything out of the car, no tent, no cooler,
no gear. They just sat there.
It felt wrong, it looked wrong. My gut was screaming at me that
something was seriously off. I nudged Bill, trying to keep my
voice low. Isn't that kind of weird?
They don't have any gear? Bill just shrugged, rolling his
eyes a little, like I was being paranoid again.
Maybe they're sleeping in their car.
He said like that explained everything, but even he couldn't
hide the little crease of worry on his forehead.
He wasn't completely convinced either, no matter what he said.
As the sun started to set, that creepy feeling only got worse.
The clouds were rolling in, thick and heavy.
You could smell the rain coming. Sure enough, a storm hit not
long after. It was intense, Thunder shaking
the ground, rain pounding the tent.
We had to hold the sides down just to keep the thing from
collapsing on us. I kept glancing out, wondering
what the couple next to us was doing.
The rain was so loud I couldn't hear anything but the storm.
But I knew one thing for sure. They were still sitting in their
car. No lights on, no windows
cracked, just sitting there. The storm was wild, but the fact
that they weren't moving at all, that was worse.
It was like they didn't care that the world around them was
tearing itself apart. I couldn't shake the feeling
that they were watching us. Even though I couldn't see their
faces, I could just feel it. You know that sensation, like
when someone's staring at you and you just know?
Hours passed before the storm finally calmed down.
Bill's parents had already gone to bed in their trailer, and I
wanted to do the same, but I couldn't.
I was too wired, too on edge. I kept thinking about that
couple. Were they still in their car?
Why hadn't they moved? Why hadn't they said anything?
Bill fell asleep pretty quickly, snoring softly beside me.
But I lay there, wide awake, every little sound making me
jump. My mind was racing, spinning out
of control. And then, just when I thought
maybe I was finally starting to calm down, I heard footsteps.
Soft, deliberate, close. I held my breath, my heart
pounding so hard I thought it would wake Bill.
Whoever it was, They were right outside the tent.
My mind went into OverDrive. I didn't want to look, I really
didn't want to look, but I had to.
Slowly, trying not to make a sound, I unzipped the corner of
the tent just a tiny bit and peeked out.
And there they were, two figures, standing just a few
feet away. I couldn't see their faces, but
they had these red headlamps on, casting this weird, eerie glow.
They were just standing there, watching us.
I ducked back inside the tent, my heart in my throat.
I didn't care if Bill thought I was overreacting anymore.
Something was seriously wrong. Bill.
I whispered, shaking him awake. Bill, wake up, we need to get
out of here. I couldn't sleep.
I kept replaying what I saw outside the tent, those two
figures just standing there wearing those creepy red
headlamps, like they were watching us or waiting for
something. The way the guy's head tilted
like he was enjoying the fact that I was scared.
What the hell were they doing? I tried waking Bill again after
that, shaking him harder this time.
He groaned, half asleep, clearly not getting it.
Sarah, it's probably nothing. He mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
Maybe they were just checking on something, gathering firewood?
Or I don't know, gathering firewood at midnight during a
storm? No way, but Bill just turned
over and went right back to sleep, leaving me alone with my
racing thoughts. Typical.
I stayed perfectly still, just listening, straining my ears for
anything. Footsteps, voices, anything that
would tell me those weirdos were still out there.
The tent felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in.
I wanted to unzip the door, peek out again, but I couldn't.
My heart was pounding too hard. I kept imagining them standing
right there, inches away, staring.
What if they were waiting for us to fall asleep?
Hours passed, or maybe it was minutes.
Honestly, I couldn't tell. It was like time slowed down,
the darkness pressing in on me. Every tiny sound made me jump,
leaves rustling, twigs snapping, the tent fabric flapping.
I started convincing myself that they were trying to get in,
maybe cutting into the tent with a knife.
I knew it sounded ridiculous, but I couldn't shake it.
The soft scratching noise I heard earlier came back to me.
I told myself it was just the wind, but deep down I wasn't so
sure. And then all of a sudden, the
footsteps stopped. Dead silence.
My breath caught in my throat. Where did they go?
Were they still outside, hiding, just out of sight?
Or did they leave? I lay there, tense, my body
buzzing with this weird combination of fear and
adrenaline. Eventually, exhaustion caught up
to me and I must have dozed off for a bit because when I opened
my eyes, the sky was starting to lighten.
Morning. I never thought I'd be so
grateful for the sun. I crawled out of the tent,
feeling groggy and still on edge.
Everything was wet from the rain, the air thick and humid.
I looked over at the other campsite, half expecting the
creepy couple to be gone, but no.
Their car was still there, parked exactly where it had been
the night before. But now there was a new
addition, a tarp tied up between 2 trees, making some sort of
flimsy shelter. It looked pathetic, like they
didn't care at all about camping.
And to make it even weirder, they were still wearing the same
clothes, dark pants, heavy boots, completely wrong for the
weather. I glanced back at Bill, who was
still snoring away, oblivious to everything.
I wanted to shake him awake and make him look, really look, but
I held back. What was the point?
He'd just tell me I was overreacting again.
But I wasn't. I knew I wasn't.
I tried to focus on packing up some of our stuff, pretending
everything was fine, but I couldn't shake the feeling of
being watched. Every time I moved I felt it,
and when I looked up, there she was, the woman sitting on a log,
just staring at me, not saying a word, just watching.
It was like she didn't blink. Her eyes tracked me, cold and
empty, and I swear I felt a chill run down my neck, even
though it was warm outside. The man wasn't far behind her,
standing by the car, his arms crossed, watching, always
watching, like they were waiting for something.
But what? I tried to distract myself by
helping Bill's parents with breakfast, but I kept glancing
over and every time I did, they were still there, still
watching. I felt like an animal being
stalked by predators. It didn't make sense.
None of it did. Why weren't they doing normal
camping things? Why were they just there?
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.
Bill, we need to leave. I said, trying to keep my voice
steady. Something's not right.
He gave me this look, half annoyed, half concerned, but I
could tell he was starting to feel it too.
The atmosphere was wrong, even his parents were quieter than
usual, like they sensed it but didn't want to say anything.
After a bit of back and forth, we finally agreed to pack up and
leave early. Honestly, I felt relieved.
I thought maybe once we decided to go, I'd feel better.
But the second we started breaking down our tent,
something happened that made my stomach drop.
The couple, they started packing up too fast, frantic, like they
couldn't get out of there quick enough.
They tossed things into their car without even folding the
tarp, throwing it in like it didn't matter.
And the way they looked at us, there was something panicked in
their eyes, something desperate, like they knew we were leaving
and couldn't risk staying behind without us.
That's when I knew this wasn't just me being paranoid.
They had been waiting for us to leave, or maybe they were
planning to follow us. We threw our stuff into the car
as fast as we could. I didn't care if things were
packed neatly anymore, I just wanted out of there.
As we pulled away, I looked in the rear view mirror and saw
them still in their car, engine running, waiting.
We drove in silence for a while. The car rattled along the dirt
Rd. and all I could think about was how quickly that couple had
packed up. It didn't make sense.
It felt like they were copying us, like they were only there
because we were there. The whole thing had me on edge,
and the farther we got from the campground, the more it gnawed
at me. I kept glancing in the side
mirror, expecting to see that rusty old sedan tailing us.
Every time a car passed or I saw headlights in the distance.
My stomach twisted into knots. What if they were following us?
What if they'd been waiting for us to leave so they could?
What? I didn't even know, but I knew
it wasn't good. Bill must have noticed the way I
was gripping the seat because he reached over, squeezing my hand.
Hey, it's over, OK, We're out of there.
They're not following us. I wanted to believe him, I
really did, but something about it just felt unfinished, like
we'd barely escaped whatever creepy plan those people had.
My brain kept replaying the night over and over again.
The red headlamps, the way they just stood there, the guy's head
tilted in that weird way. And then this morning, with the
woman staring at me like I was some sort of prey, I couldn't
shake the feeling that it wasn't over.
When we finally pulled into Bill's parents driveway, I let
out a breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding safe.
We were safe now, right? But even as we unpacked the car,
I couldn't stop checking over my shoulder.
What if they showed up here? What if they found out where we
lived? Inside the house, I tried to
distract myself with the normalcy of it all.
Bill's mom made sandwiches and we sat around the kitchen table
like it was just another camping trip.
Like the past 24 hours hadn't been the most unsettling thing
ever. But then Bill's dad, out of
nowhere, said something that made my skin crawl.
So I didn't want to freak you out back at the campground.
But that guy, the one from the other site?
He paused, glancing at Bill's mom, then back at me.
I caught him messing with the dogs last night.
My heart skipped a beat. Messing with the dogs?
What do you mean? Bill's dad scratched his chin,
looking more serious than I'd ever seen him.
He was just standing there, right outside the trailer,
staring at them. The dogs were going nuts,
barking, growling, and he didn't flinch, just stood there staring
at them like he was testing them or something.
I felt sick. The guy had been that close,
just outside their trailer, and we hadn't even known.
Why hadn't Bill's dad said something earlier?
He didn't do anything else? I asked, my voice shaky.
No, Bill's dad said, but it was weird.
He didn't react at all, like he wasn't afraid of them.
Usually people back off when they see our dogs like that, but
him? He just stared.
Gave me the creeps. Yeah, no kidding.
I felt a cold sweat forming at the back of my neck.
Everything about this just kept getting worse.
I thought back to last night, how I'd heard those footsteps
outside our tent. What if it had been him?
What if he'd been creeping around while we slept?
Bill's mom chimed in, trying to lighten the mood.
Well, it's over now. We're home.
No more weird campers. But I wasn't so sure.
My mind kept spinning. I remembered something else,
something I hadn't even thought about until now.
When they'd arrived at the campground, they didn't face the
lake like everyone else did. Their entire setup, if you could
even call it that, had been pointed directly at our
campsite. They weren't there to enjoy the
view, they were watching us the whole time.
I could feel my heart racing again, my thoughts getting all
jumbled up. It made sense now, didn't it?
The way they didn't have any real camping gear, how they
stayed so close to us, never saying a word, just observing.
It wasn't random, they weren't just awkward campers who didn't
know what they were doing. They were there for us.
I stood up, unable to sit still anymore, pacing the kitchen like
I could walk off, the anxiety buzzing inside me.
Bill watched me, confused, but I didn't care.
I had to get it all out. They weren't there to camp.
I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
They were stalking us, Bill. Everything they did was weird,
and now this, messing with the dogs packing up when we did.
It's all connected, They were watching us the whole time.
Bill blinked, sitting up straighter now.
Sarah, come on, that's a little. No, it's not.
I cut him off, my voice rising. Think about it.
They didn't even look at the lake, Bill.
Everything they did was pointed at us.
What if they were planning something?
Something bad? Bill's dad cleared his throat,
looking uncomfortable. We did leave pretty fast.
They packed up the second we did.
Bill was quiet for a moment. I could tell he didn't want to
believe it, but even he couldn't brush it off anymore.
OK, he finally said. It was weird, I'll admit that.
We all sat in silence for a minute, the air heavy with
everything we weren't saying. What if we hadn't left early?
What if we'd stayed another night?
Would they have waited until we were asleep to do something?
I shuddered, not wanting to finish that thought, but it
stuck with me, clawing at the back of my mind, making it
impossible to feel safe. Even now, in the comfort of
Bill's parents home, I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't
over, not yet. And worst of all, I knew deep
down they were still out there somewhere, watching, waiting.
It all started during the pandemic, when everything just
felt off. You know what I mean right?
Bored out of my mind, barely seeing my friends stuck at home
like the rest of the world. That was until we found mountain
biking. It saved us honestly.
Living in Washington state, there were woods everywhere,
perfect for biking. We couldn't drive to any legit
parks, too young for that, but we didn't care.
We made our own trails, hidden away from everything.
Felt like our secret world. There was this one trail we
built deep in the woods, way off the main path.
You wouldn't know it was there unless you were looking for it,
and trust me, no one else was. It took forever to make, but
that was part of the fun. Mud, fallen trees, ferns taller
than my waist. It was like an obstacle course
just to get to it. But it was ours, our escape.
Except the woods weren't always, I don't know, welcoming.
Sometimes they felt wrong, like something was watching us.
I never said anything to the guys though.
Didn't want to sound paranoid. We were just kids, right?
What could happen? One afternoon it was raining.
Of course it was. It's Washington.
I decided to check on the trail by myself.
Well, not totally alone. My little sister tagged along.
I didn't want to, but my mom made me take her.
My brother was supposed to come too, but he bailed last minute.
No big deal. I figured I'd be in and out,
check for storm damage, maybe clear some branches.
It wasn't supposed to be a long trip.
The woods were creepy that day. The rain made everything
quieter, you know, like no birds, no wind.
Just still. My sister didn't notice.
She was busy messing around, probably kicking mud or
something. But me?
I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
We got to the trail after about 10 minutes and everything seemed
normal. Muddy, sure, but nothing out of
the ordinary. I called my mom to check in and
she said my brother had come looking for us but couldn't find
the trail. I wasn't surprised.
It's not easy to find even if you know where to look.
I told my sister to head back to the entrance and wait for him.
Seemed like a simple enough plan.
I'd stay behind, clear a few fallen branches, maybe ride the
trail once or twice, and then we'd all head home together.
Except that's when things got weird.
I was working on a branch, struggling with it because
everything was soaked and slippery, when I realized it had
been a while. My sister hadn't called to say
she found our brother. I wasn't super worried at first,
but I decided to check on her. I made my way back to the Old
Forest Rd. the one that leads to the hidden trail, expecting to
see her waiting there with my brother, But instead I saw
someone else. At first I thought it was her,
but something didn't feel right. The person was wearing a hoodie,
but not the one she'd been wearing.
This one was white, or maybe Gray, kind of hard to tell in
the rain. I watched for a second,
confused. Why would she change clothes?
The figure was walking slowly, like really slowly, Not looking
around or anything, just moving. That's when it hit me.
This wasn't my sister. My stomach dropped.
I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at this person who still
hadn't noticed me. Something about the way they
were moving freaked me out, like they weren't in a hurry but also
weren't lost. They were just there and they
didn't belong. I ducked behind a tree, trying
to figure out what the hell was going on.
My heart was pounding so hard I could barely think straight.
I pulled out my phone and called my sister.
The second the phone started ringing, I heard it.
A voice, low and raspy right behind me.
What are you doing? I nearly dropped my phone.
I whipped around, ready to bolt, but it was just my sister,
crouched behind some bushes, looking at me like I'd lost my
mind. There's no 1:00 here.
She whispered, like I was making it all up.
But I know what I saw. I swear I saw someone.
I peeked out from behind the tree, but the figure was gone.
Just gone. No sound, no trace, nothing but
the rain hitting the leaves. My sister looked confused, like
she didn't believe me, but I knew something was wrong.
We needed to get out of there now.
We hurried back to where we left our bikes, and that's when I saw
it. Footprints in the mud.
Not ours, bigger than ours, deep, fresh.
Someone had been there, and they weren't just passing by.
They had been watching us. I couldn't shake the feeling
that we weren't alone in those woods.
Even now, thinking about it, I get this tightness in my chest
because whoever or whatever I saw that day, they didn't leave.
And they're still out there, watching, waiting.
So there I was, crouched behind a tree, my heart going 1,000,000
miles an hour, my phone still buzzing in my hand.
After I'd called my sister, I kept thinking about that figure
in the hoodie. I mean, who the heck was that?
They were there, clear as day, walking down the trail, and then
poof, gone like they never existed.
My brain was scrambling to make sense of it, but nothing fit.
One second they're there, and the next just gone.
That doesn't happen, not in real life.
My sister crouched next to me, her face all scrunched up in
confusion. What are you doing?
She whispered like I was the one acting weird.
She hadn't seen the person, or maybe she just didn't want to
admit she had. I don't know, but I wasn't
imagining things. There was someone.
I hissed back, my voice barely steady.
Right there. I pointed toward the trail, but
I knew I sounded crazy. The empty path stretched out in
front of us, wet and muddy with no sign of anyone, just the
trees standing still like they were waiting for something.
No one's here, stop being weird. My sister said like it was all
no big deal, but I could tell by the way she glanced around that
she wasn't totally convinced. She was trying to act tough, but
even she was starting to get that look in her eyes.
The one that says this doesn't feel right.
I didn't argue with her though. We had to get back to the bikes
fast. I don't know why, but this
pressure in my chest was building, like something bad was
about to happen, like if we didn't move now, we wouldn't get
another chance. I grabbed her arm and started
tugging her toward the hidden path where we'd left our bikes.
Every step I took, I felt like something was behind us, just
out of sight, watching, waiting. The mud squished under our shoes
and every sound felt too loud, like we were announcing exactly
where we were. My eyes darted around
constantly, scanning the trees, but everything looked wrong.
I don't even know how to explain it.
The shadows felt deeper, the trees taller, almost like the
forest had shifted when I wasn't paying attention.
I kept expecting to see that figure again, but there was
nothing. Just silence, thick and heavy,
like the woods were holding their breath.
We were almost to the bikes when I saw it.
Footprints, big ones, way bigger than mine, are my sisters.
They were fresh too, sunk deep into the mud, overlapping our
own tracks from earlier. My throat went dry, and I
grabbed my sister's arm harder. Probably harder than I meant to,
but I didn't care. Look.
I said, pointing down at the ground.
She followed my gaze, and I could tell by the way her eyes
widened that she finally got it. Those aren't ours.
She whispered, her voice barely audible.
Nope. I said, my pulse pounding in my
ears. That's when it hit me.
Whoever that person was, they'd been following us, maybe for
longer than I realized. And the worst part?
I didn't know where they were now.
They could have been hiding anywhere, watching us from the
trees, waiting for I don't even know what.
I felt this overwhelming urge to get out of there, like we were
on borrowed time. I started moving faster, almost
dragging my sister behind me. We had to get to the bikes, had
to get out. I didn't even care about the mud
anymore, didn't care if we slipped or fell, as long as we
kept moving. My mind was racing with 100
different possibilities, none of them good.
What if they took our bikes? What if they were waiting for us
there? What if we never made it out of
these woods? Finally, after what felt like
forever, we reached the spot where we'd hidden the bikes, and
thank God they were still there. But something wasn't right.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
Around the bikes, the mud was all messed up, like someone had
been pacing back and forth. But that wasn't the worst part.
On one of the trees nearby, there were smudges, dark, almost
black against the bark. My stomach churned when I
realized what it was. Blood.
Someone had wiped their hands on the tree, like they'd been hurt
or worse. I couldn't think, couldn't
breathe. My sister didn't see it at
first, but when she did her face went pale.
She didn't say anything, just stared wide eyed.
I didn't want to know whose blood that was or why it was
there. We need to go.
I muttered, my voice barely working.
I could feel my hands shaking as I grabbed my bike.
I was trying to act calm for my sister's sake, but inside I was
freaking out. Everything in me was screaming
run, but I couldn't even think straight.
We jumped on our bikes and started pedaling, mud spraying
everywhere as our tires spun out.
I didn't care, I just needed to get out of those woods.
My heart was pounding, my eyes darting back and forth, waiting
for something, someone to jump out from behind the trees.
I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see that figure in
the white hoodie, but the path behind us stayed empty.
Except it didn't feel empty. It felt like something was still
there, just out of sight, watching us leave.
And I knew deep down that we'd only just escaped for now.
But whoever or whatever had been there, they weren't done with
us. I don't think I've ever pedaled
so fast in my life. The wheels kept slipping in the
mud, but I didn't care. I just kept pushing harder, like
if I slowed down for even a second, something would catch up
with us. I didn't want to look back, I
couldn't. But the feeling, it was still
there. That gut wrenching sense that we
weren't alone in those woods, that something was following us
just out of sight. Every time a branch snapped or
the wind rustled the trees, my heart nearly jumped out of my
chest. My sister was right behind me,
quiet for once, which freaked me out even more.
She's never quiet, but I think she felt it too.
That pressure. Like the woods were closing in
on us, like we were being watched.
We finally reached the wooden bridge that leads back to the
neighborhood, and for a split second I thought we were safe.
But as soon as we got closer, my stomach dropped.
There, clear as day, were footprints.
Fresh ones, right in the mud leading across the bridge.
Big ones, way bigger than ours, and they didn't belong to anyone
we knew. I slammed on the brakes,
skidding to a stop just before the bridge.
My sister nearly crashed into me, but I didn't even care.
My eyes were glued to the footprints.
What? What the heck?
My sister mumbled, her voice shaking a little.
She was staring at them too, her face pale.
They started on our side of the bridge, like someone had been
standing right where we were now, watching us.
Then they went halfway across the bridge and just stopped.
No more prints, no sign of whoever made them like they had
disappeared into thin air. How?
How is that possible? I whispered, but I wasn't really
asking her. I was asking the woods, the
universe, whatever was out there, watching us, messing with
us, because this wasn't normal. People don't just vanish like
that. I scanned the trees on the other
side of the bridge, half expecting to see someone
standing there, but there was nothing, just the empty trail
leading deeper into the forest. Everything was still too still,
like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting.
We need to go, my sister said, her voice barely a whisper.
She was already climbing back on her bike, her eyes darting from
the bridge to the trees, then back to me.
Now she didn't have to tell me twice.
I hopped back on my bike, but my hands were shaking so bad I
almost dropped it. We rode across the bridge as
fast as we could, mud splattering everywhere.
The whole time I kept thinking about those footprints.
Who made them? Where did they go and why were
they there in the first place? Once we crossed the bridge, I
thought we'd feel better, but that tight, paranoid feeling
wouldn't go away. My heart was still pounding and
every sound made me jump. The way back to the
neighbourhood was only a few minutes, but it felt like
forever. I couldn't shake the feeling
that someone or something was still following us, hiding in
the trees, waiting for us to let our guard down.
Every now and then I'd glance back, expecting to see that
person in the white hoodie standing in the middle of the
trail, just watching, but no one was there.
It didn't matter. I felt them.
I couldn't see them, but I knew they were there.
Finally, we broke through the tree line and hit the edge of
our neighborhood. I should have felt relieved, but
instead I felt off, like we hadn't really escaped, like we'd
brought something back with us. The street was quiet, too quiet
for this time of day. No kids playing, no cars driving
by, just silence. The only sound was our bikes,
tires crunching on the gravel. As we slowed to a stop in front
of my house. My sister jumped off her bike
and ran inside without saying a word.
She didn't even look back at me. I stood there for a second,
catching my breath, trying to shake the feeling of eyes on me,
but it wouldn't go away. My skin was prickling like
something was wrong, like I was still being watched.
I finally went inside, slammed the door behind me, and locked
it. I didn't care if it was the
middle of the day, I wasn't taking any chances.
My parents weren't home yet, so I went upstairs to my room and
sat on the edge of my bed, trying to make sense of
everything. But the more I thought about it,
the less it made sense. Who was that person in the
hoodie? Why were they in the woods, in
our secret trail, following us? And those footprints?
How do footprints just stop like that?
People don't just vanish. My head was spinning and I could
feel the panic rising in my chest again.
I got up and looked out my bedroom window, staring at the
woods behind our house. For a second I thought I saw
something, a flash of white just at the edge of the trees.
But when I blinked it was gone. My heart was pounding so loud I
thought I might be losing it. I was probably imagining things,
right? There's no way that person had
followed us all the way back here.
But then I looked down and my blood ran cold.
There, in the mud just outside our front door were the same
large, deep footprints leading right to our house, but none
going back. It was supposed to be just
another adventure. Alex and I had done this a
million times. Sneak off into the woods after
school, try to find something creepy or cool.
But this time, something was different.
From the moment we stepped into the trees, everything felt
different. At first, I couldn't put my
finger on it. The air was thicker than usual,
like it was hard to breathe, and it was too quiet.
You know how when you walk into the woods you usually hear birds
or the wind rustling through the leaves?
Not today. There was nothing, just an
eerie, unnatural silence that made me feel like the entire
forest was holding its breath. Alex, my best friend, was
usually the Fearless 1. He was big and strong, built
like a bodybuilder from all the time he spent at the gym.
He never got scared, but today he was acting weird.
He kept glancing around like he was expecting something to jump
out at us. His shoulders were tense and he
wasn't joking around like he normally did.
Something's wrong. He muttered, more to himself
than to me. I tried to laugh it off.
Dude, it's just a quiet day. You scared of a few trees?
I nudged him, but deep down I could feel it too.
Something wasn't right. We kept walking though, deeper
into the woods. The further we went, the darker
it got. The sun was starting to sink
behind the trees, casting these long shadows that seemed to
stretch forever. Every time I looked down a path,
I could swear I saw something move just out of the corner of
my eye, but every time I whipped my head around, there was
nothing there. My heart started to race a
little faster. And then it happened.
A bark, high pitched, sharp, cutting through the silence like
a knife. I jumped, and so did Alex.
But this wasn't a normal dog barking.
No, this sound was weird. It was hollow, like someone was
trying to mimic a dog but didn't quite know how.
It repeated over and over, the same sound, like a broken
record. Alex's eyes went wide and I
could see it, real fear in his face.
That's not right. He whispered, barely loud enough
for me to hear. Another bark, louder this time,
closer. We both stood there, frozen,
listening. The barks kept coming, rhythmic,
almost mechanical. My skin prickled and every
instinct screamed at me to run, but my feet were glued to the
ground. I glanced around, trying to
figure out where the sound was coming from, but all I saw were
the shifting shadows between the trees.
The woods felt alive now. Not in a good way, though.
It was like the trees were watching us, waiting for
something. The silence that had been so
weird earlier was now filled with this horrible noise,
echoing through the trees and twisting my stomach into knots.
Let's get out of here. Alex finally said, his voice
shaking. I didn't argue.
We turned and started walking fast.
Too fast, maybe, like we were trying to outrun whatever was
making that noise. But the faster we moved, the
louder the sound got. And that's when we heard it.
Footsteps, not ours. Something else was moving
through the forest with us just out of sight.
The snapping of twigs and crunching of leaves followed us,
matching our pace. My heart was pounding so hard I
thought it might burst out of my chest.
Run. Alec shouted, and I didn't need
to be told twice. We bolted, sprinting through the
trees, branches whipping against my face and legs.
The footsteps behind us speed up too, and I swear I could feel
something, someone right on my heels.
The feeling of being watched morphed into the terrifying
realization that we were being hunted.
I risked a glance back and saw nothing, but I knew I could feel
it. Whatever was out there was just
inches away. I could hear it breathing this
horrible raspy sound like it was right on my neck.
Every step I took, it took two, closing the distance faster.
Alex yelled, but I couldn't. My legs felt like they were
going to give out. The forest around us seemed to
close in, the trees growing thicker, their branches reaching
out like claws trying to grab us.
By the time we burst out of the woods and onto the road, my
lungs were burning and I was gasping for air.
We didn't stop running until we got back to Alex's house,
slamming the door behind us. Locking it like that could
somehow keep whatever was out there from following us.
For a minute, neither of us said anything.
We just stood there, panting, drenched in sweat.
My whole body was shaking. Did you hear it?
Alex finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath.
No, he said, his eyes wide and haunted.
Not the footsteps, the breathing.
It was right behind us. I swear, it was right behind me.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
This wasn't just some animal in the woods.
Alex was scared. Really scared.
And if he was scared, I knew whatever was out there was real,
real and dangerous. And I had a sinking feeling that
it wasn't done with us yet. It had been months since that
night in the woods, but I couldn't shake the feeling, that
creeping, nagging fear that something was still watching.
Alex didn't talk about it much anymore, but I knew it bothered
him too. He wasn't the same.
He didn't like going out much, and when he did, he was always
looking over his shoulder. I thought maybe it would fade
over time, but it didn't. If anything, it was getting
worse. And then came the night it all
went downhill. Alex texted me late one Friday
saying he was home alone. His parents were out of town so
he was chilling in his room playing video games like usual.
I didn't think much of it at the time, just a regular night for
him. But then a couple hours later, I
got this panicked message from him. 3 words that made my heart
skip a beat. Something's outside.
Help. I called him immediately, but it
went to voicemail. I tried again, but still
nothing. I grabbed my jacket, ready to
Sprint over to his house, but then my phone buzzed.
It was Alex. A text.
Wait, I'll explain. I didn't know what to do, so I
just sat there, staring at my phone, heart pounding in my
chest. Finally, after what felt like
forever, my phone rang. Alex, dude.
He whispered, his voice shaky. There's something outside my
window. What are you talking about?
What do you mean something's outside?
I don't know. He said, his voice trembling.
It started with this smell. It was so gross, like a like
something dead, like rotting meat or something.
I felt a cold chill run down my spine.
What, like in your room? No man, it came out of nowhere.
I was just playing my game and then boom, this smell hit me so
bad I almost threw up. I looked around, checked the
whole house, but nothing. No dead animals, no trash,
nothing. I was trying to process what he
was saying but it didn't make sense.
So what, you think it's a skunk or something?
No, listen. His voice cracked a little and I
could hear how scared he was. When I got back to my room, I
thought it was gone, but then this, this tapping started at my
window. My heart thudded in my chest.
What kind of tapping? It was light at first, like like
someone barely tapping their nails against the glass.
I thought it was just the wind, but then it got louder, like
deliberate. I swallowed hard.
Did you see anything? No, not at first.
It was dark, but then I saw it. My stomach dropped.
Saw what? The thing?
His voice was so low now I had to strain to hear.
It was standing outside my window.
I didn't see its face at first, just this shape, like a shadow.
But when I looked closer, he stopped, like he couldn't find
the words. What did you see, Alex?
I whispered, my skin crawling with fear.
It was. It was a person, or something
shaped like a person, but its face was all wrong.
Pale, like too pale. The skin was stretched thin, and
there were these big black holes where the eyes should have been.
And its mouth. He trailed off, and I could hear
him breathing hard through the phone, like he was trying not to
freak out. What about its mouth?
It was open, like way too wide, and its teeth were.
He choked on his words, sharp, crooked.
It looked like it was smiling at me, but in this creepy twisted
way. And then the smell got worse,
like it was coming from it. I felt sick just hearing it.
What did you do? I pulled the curtain shut and
locked my door. But I think it's still out
there. It didn't leave.
I jumped to my feet, already grabbing my keys.
I'm coming over. I'll be there in 5 minutes.
No, Alex said, suddenly urgent. You can't.
I don't think it wants you. It's here for me.
What are you talking about? I don't know.
He practically shouted. But ever since that day in the
woods, I feel like it's been following me, like it's watching
me. I can't sleep anymore without
hearing it or seeing something move outside my window.
And now, now it's here. I didn't know what to say.
Alex was losing it, and I didn't blame him.
Everything he described made my skin crawl, and I couldn't
imagine how terrifying it must have been to see that face up
close. You don't think I didn't want to
say it, but the thought was already in my head.
Skinwalker. Alex whispered, like he was
afraid to say it too loud. I've been reading about them.
They're supposed to wear the skin of the dead, and I don't
know, maybe it's crazy. But what if no, man, that's,
that's impossible, I said. But even as the words came out,
they didn't feel right. I didn't believe them.
I don't know what it is, Alex said, his voice trembling.
But it's not going to stop. I know that.
It's not going to stop until it gets me.
I couldn't stand hearing him like this.
Stay inside, don't look out the window, I'm coming over.
No, he snapped. Don't just just stay away, I'll
be fine. I didn't believe him.
I could hear the fear in his voice, and I knew whatever was
out there wasn't going to just go away.
But before I could say anything else, he hung up.
I stared at the phone, my hands shaking.
That feeling from the woods, the sense of something watching us,
had never really gone away, and now it was worse.
Much worse. Whatever it was, it had found
Alex, and I had no idea how to stop it.
I hadn't seen Alex in a couple of weeks after that night.
He called me, terrified about the thing at his window.
He started to pull back. He stopped coming to school as
much, didn't answer my texts or calls, and I was starting to get
seriously worried. I mean, Alex was never the type
to freak out about stuff, but whatever happened that night, it
changed him, and not in a good way.
I couldn't get that call out of my head, the way his voice shook
when he described that thing outside his window.
It didn't feel like just a bad dream or some weird animal.
I could hear the fear and honestly it made my skin crawl
just thinking about it. I tried telling myself it was
just his imagination, that he was stressed out, but deep down
I didn't believe that. Not after what we both saw in
the woods, not after all those noises and footsteps, the
breathing so close it felt like it was right behind us.
Something was seriously wrong. One Friday afternoon, I decided
to go to Alex's house. I had to see him, talk to him,
make sure he was OK. His place was pretty isolated,
way out on the edge of town with nothing but empty fields and
woods stretching out behind it. By the time I got there, it was
already getting dark, the sun dipping below the horizon and
casting long shadows across the yard.
His house looked different, not in a big way, but there was
something not right. The curtains were all closed,
the windows dark, and I couldn't see any lights on inside.
Normally, Alex's place would be alive with the Sound of Music or
his gaming setup, but tonight it was dead silent.
I knocked on the door. Nothing.
I knocked again, harder this time.
Alex, dude, it's me. I called out, my voice sounding
too loud in the stillness. Still nothing.
No movement, no sound. My stomach twisted into knots.
Something was wrong, I could feel it.
After a few minutes of standing there, debating whether to just
leave, I heard something from inside.
It was faint at first, but as I pressed my ear against the door,
I could hear it more clearly, Scratching, like something
scraping against wood, slow and deliberate.
My heart pounded in my chest. Alex.
I called again, but this time I didn't expect an answer.
I tried the door handle, and to my surprise, it turned.
The door creaked open, revealing the dark, empty hallway beyond.
I stepped inside, every instinct screaming at me to leave, but I
couldn't. Not without making sure Alex was
OK. The house smelled weird, like
stale air mixed with something else, something rotten, like the
stench of spoiled meat. I gagged a little, covering my
nose with my sleeve as I made my way down the hallway.
The scratching sound continued, coming from upstairs.
I called out again, my voice shaky.
Alex, where are you, man? No answer, just that scratching.
Slow and steady, like it was waiting for me.
I crept up the stairs, each step creaking under my weight.
The higher I climbed, the stronger the smell got, thick
and putrid. By the time I reached the top,
it was so bad I had to stop and catch my breath.
That's when I heard it whispers. I froze.
The whispers were soft, barely there, but they were coming from
behind Alex's bedroom door. I couldn't make out what they
were saying, but the tone. It was wrong.
Creepy, like a voice trying to imitate speech but not quite
getting it right. I pushed the door open, the
hinges groaning as I did. There, sitting in the dark
corner of the room, was Alex. His back was to me and he was
hunched over, his shoulders tense.
The scratching was louder now, and I realized it was coming
from him. He was dragging his nails along
the wall, over and over again, like he couldn't stop.
Alex. I whispered, taking a step
forward. He didn't respond, didn't even
flinch. I walked closer, my heart
hammering in my chest. Dude, what's going on, are you
OK? Finally, he stopped.
The room fell into an eerie silence, except for the sound of
my own shaky breathing. Alec slowly turned his head, and
when I saw his face, my stomach dropped.
He looked wrong. His eyes were wide, bloodshot,
like he hadn't slept in days. His skin was pale, almost
sickly, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
But it wasn't just that. It was the way he looked at me,
like he didn't recognize me, like he wasn't even him anymore.
It's here. He whispered, his voice barely
audible. It's been here the whole time.
My blood ran cold. What's here?
Alex blinked, and for a second I thought I saw something move in
the shadows behind him. My breath caught in my throat
and I took a step back, my heart racing.
The thing from the woods. He said, his voice trembling.
It followed me home. It's been watching me, waiting,
and now? Now it's inside.
I felt a wave of panic rise in my chest.
We need to get out of here now. Alex shook his head, his
expression empty. It's too late, it's already
taken me. I stumbled back, my mind racing.
The room felt smaller, like the walls were closing in.
I could feel it. The same presence we felt in the
woods, the same eyes watching from the dark, waiting, lurking.
I didn't know what to do, but I knew one thing for sure.
Whatever this thing was, it wasn't going to stop.
And I was next. It was supposed to be just
another hunting trip. Nothing special, nothing out of
the ordinary. Just me and my brother out in
the woods, freezing our asses off in the middle of nowhere.
SE Minnesota, dead of winter. You could hear the crunch of
snow under every step, the air so cold it stung when you
breathed it in. I hate winter, but there we
were, thinking we'd bag a deer and be back home before the
worst of the storm hit. We'd been out there for hours,
mostly just trudging around, not seeing anything worth shooting.
Then, out of nowhere, this huge buck crosses our path.
I'm talking massive antlers, like something out of a wildlife
magazine. My brother spots it first and
takes the shot. It drops, no problem, easy.
We don't want to drag it back through the snow without a sled,
so we figure we'll just leave it there, go back to the cabin,
grab the sled, and haul it out. No big deal, right?
We were only about a mile away from the cabin, so it didn't
seem like a huge hassle. We mark the spot, even though it
was pretty obvious where the deer was.
There was blood in the snow, and that buck wasn't going anywhere.
At least that's what we thought. When we get back, maybe 30
minutes later, the deer is gone. Just gone.
At first I thought we'd gotten turned around, like maybe we
were just a little off and the deer was still close by, but we
were looking in the wrong spot. But no, there was the same patch
of blood in the snow, only now there was no deer.
No tracks, either. No drag marks, no paw prints,
nothing. My brother's cursing under his
breath, and I'm just standing there staring at this weird
clean patch of snow, trying to make sense of it.
How does a full grown buck just disappear?
The snow's fresh. We should have seen something,
tracks, a trail, anything. But there was nothing like the
damn thing had just lifted off the ground and floated away.
So we start searching. I mean, what else were we
supposed to do? We combed the area, going
farther out, figuring maybe a coyote or something dragged it
away, but the more we look, the worse it gets.
After a few minutes, we find it, or what's left of it.
It's not even 100 yards from where we left it, but it's all
torn up, like torn to shreds. Its legs are missing, like
they've been Hacked Off or something, but not messy, clean,
almost surgical. I'm not kidding, It looked like
someone took a saw to this thing, which makes no sense at
all. There's no blood around it, no
tracks, just this deer, all mutilated and wrong, lying there
in the snow like some kind of sick joke.
And then there's this leg. One of its legs is just sitting
on this big rock nearby, like it was placed there.
Not tossed, not dropped, placed. I'm standing there staring at
this leg on the rock, and I swear to God my stomach turned.
It's like the whole forest got darker all of a sudden.
I know that sounds stupid, but it's true.
The sun wasn't even setting yet, but everything felt wrong.
Like the shadows around us. We're closing in.
My brother's talking, but I barely hear him.
My mind's racing. I'm thinking, what could do
this? What kind of animal could drag a
deer, cut it up like this, and leave no tracks?
Nothing about it made sense. The Department of Natural
Resources had been warning people about wolves coming down
from the north. But this, No way.
Wolves don't do this. Nothing does this.
We decide to head back to the cabin.
Screw the sled, we're not dragging this thing home.
But as we're leaving, I hear something.
A crack in the woods behind us. My first thought is oh great,
whatever did this is coming for us now.
I turn around and I swear for a second I see something just
beyond the trees. A shape maybe, or a shadow.
It's not clear. It's like, like something's
there, but it's not moving, just watching.
My heart's pounding and I feel that familiar tightness in my
chest again, the same feeling I had when I was a kid back in
Washington when we heard those whispers in the woods.
I grab my brother's arm and I don't even need to say anything.
He feels it too. The air's heavy, almost buzzing
with something we can't see, but we can feel it pressing in on
us. We start walking faster, not
quite running but close, trying to act like we're not scared out
of our minds. I keep glancing back, expecting
to see something, anything following us, but there's
nothing. Just the trees and the snow and
that awful gnawing feeling that we're not alone.
We finally make it back to the cabin, slam the door behind us
and lock it tight. My brother's pacing, swearing,
trying to figure out what the hell just happened.
I'm shaking, trying to calm down, but I can't.
All I can think about is the deer's leg on that rock and the
shadows I saw, or thought I saw, in the trees.
We didn't go back out there after that.
We didn't talk about it much either.
But sometimes, late at night, I swear I hear it.
That same crack in the woods, that same shadow moving just
beyond the tree line. It was one of those winter
nights where the cold sinks into your bones.
You know, the kind where no amount of blankets or layers can
keep the chill out. I was staying at my uncle's
cabin, way out in the middle of nowhere southeastern Minnesota.
Like when I say nowhere, I mean it.
No neighbors, no streetlights, nothing but trees and snow for
miles. Kind of peaceful, but kind of
creepy too, if I'm being honest. I wasn't supposed to be out
there alone, but Uncle Ray had gone into town to get supplies.
Said he'd be back by morning. Told me to enjoy the quiet, like
that was some kind of gift. Sure, I thought, I'll sit out
here in the freezing cold in the middle of the woods and enjoy
the dead silence. Great idea.
It was around 10:00 PM and the sky was clear, stars everywhere.
I was sitting on the porch trying to relax, but something
just felt off. Like I couldn't shake the
feeling that I was being watched.
Stupid, right? But no matter how many times I
told myself it was all in my head, I couldn't settle down.
My eyes kept drifting to the tree line, that dark stretch of
forest just beyond the cabin. And then I saw it.
At first I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me,
shadows moving between the trees.
But they weren't moving right. They didn't sway like the
branches in the wind or dart around like deer.
No, these shadows were slow, deliberate.
It was like they were pacing back and forth, like something
or someone was out there, waiting for I don't even know
what. I sat up, trying to get a better
look, but it was just too dark to see clearly.
Still, my heart was pounding and I could feel this tightness in
my chest. I should have gone inside right
then, locked the door and waited for Uncle Ray to come back.
But instead I stayed there, frozen, just staring.
I couldn't help it. I kept thinking maybe it's
nothing, maybe I'm just being paranoid.
Then I heard it. A faint rhythmic thudding.
At first I thought it was just the wind knocking a branch
against the cabin, but it wasn't that kind of sound.
It was heavier, like footsteps in the snow, but they were slow,
deliberate, like whoever or whatever was out there wasn't in
any kind of hurry. I was sure I was imagining
things by this point. I mean, what else could it be?
It's not like people just wander through these woods in the
middle of the night. And yet the sound kept coming,
steady and relentless. I shot up from the porch and
practically sprinted inside. My hands were shaking so bad I
fumble the door lock twice before I finally got it to
click. I stood there, back against the
door, my breath coming out in ragged puffs, and I listened.
Nothing. The thudding had stopped, just
the wind now whistling through the trees.
I laughed at myself out loud because I felt so ridiculous,
like really I'm losing it over a couple of shadows and some wind.
I tried to calm down, even made myself some tea, but the unease
just wouldn't go away. It was like the quiet had teeth
sinking into my nerves. And then it started, this
scratching sound. It was soft at first, like
someone dragging their fingers across the outside of the cabin,
just under the window. I froze, teacup halfway to my
lips, listening. The scratching moved along the
wall around the corner of the cabin, like something was
circling me. I didn't want to look, I didn't
want to move. I just sat there, gripping the
cup so hard my knuckles went white.
Scratch, scratch, scratch. It was everywhere, moving from
one wall to the next like whatever it was was trying to
find a way in. I kept telling myself it was an
animal, maybe a raccoon or a stray dog.
But the sound, it wasn't right. It was too precise, too human,
like fingernails scraping across the wood.
And the worst part? Every time I got the courage to
look, there was nothing there. No tracks in the snow, no
shadows moving, just that damn scratching.
I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my phone and called
Uncle Ray, but of course, no signal.
I don't know why I thought there would be.
There never was out there. The scratching got louder, more
frantic, like it was getting impatient.
I couldn't stay there, I had to do something.
So I ran upstairs and locked myself in the bedroom, hoping
that if I couldn't hear it, it would stop.
But it didn't. It followed me up the walls,
across the ceiling, like it knew exactly where I was.
And then, just as suddenly as it started, the scratching stopped.
The silence that followed was worse than the noise.
I didn't sleep that night, just laid there in bed, staring at
the ceiling, waiting for it to start again.
When morning finally came, I stepped outside, half expecting
to find scratches all over the cabin, but there was nothing.
No marks on the walls, no footprints in the snow, nothing
at all. But I know what I heard.
I know something was out there and whatever it was, I don't
think it was done with me.