I had quite the experience when I was 17.
I am now 26, but the events that unfolded remained forever burned
into my memory. As if they happened yesterday.
My father, and I had decided to make a weekend hunting trip to
my family's hunting cabin. The cabin is located on a 120
acre. Plot of land in the middle of
Mark, Twain. National Forest.
We loaded up on Friday morning and made the drive out to the
cabin. It is extremely isolated.
The closest house is roughly 10 miles away.
The cabin sits in a clearing and is surrounded by fairly dense
forest on all sides. We arrived around noon, brought
everything inside gassed up, the electric generator, hooked it
up. And then decided it would be a
good time to figure out where we wanted to set up our deer blind.
And the stand, we have brought along I decided to go find a
good spot for the Blind. And my dad went to set up the
stand in a different area of the Woods.
I followed a small game Trail for quite a while and eventually
found a good spot. I spent some time setting up the
Blind and securing it, so it would be ready to go.
First thing in the morning, as I was finishing up, I became very
aware. That something was watching me
from the tree line about 25 yards away.
At first, it was just that uneasy feeling hairs on the back
of my neck standing up catching glimpses of movement.
I saw something peek out from behind a tree and then duck
back. Then I heard a loud crashing
sound as it ran off in the opposite direction.
It freaked me out at first but since I didn't get a good look,
I eventually convinced myself. It was a deer or some other wild
animal. I returned to the cabin and told
my dad what had happened and we both laughed about it. we made
some dinner bull crapped a little and settled down to sleep
at about 9 p.m. Around 1:30 a.m. we both awoke
to a loud crashing. Sound like someone had thrown a
large Rock onto the roof. We got up listened for a few
minutes and heard nothing but the Eerie Stillness of the night
occasionally interrupted by the howl of the wind outside.
After a few minutes, we armed ourselves and my dad grabbed a
spotlight. We walked outside and shined it
around but saw nothing. We eventually Shrugged it off as
a tree branch or something similar and went back to sleep,
we got up around 5 a.m. I went to the deer.
Blind and my dad went to the stand.
He had set up I stayed until around 8 a.m. without any
incident. That evening, I decided I would
go to the deer stand and my father wanted to try the blind,
we explained to each other, where we had set up and headed
off my dad had placed the stand on the edge of a small field.
Next to a stream about a 20 minute walk away.
I opted to leave the four wheeler, so I wouldn't scare any
potential game in the area. I have eventually found the
stand climbed up and settled in. I had been sitting for a while
and hadn't seen anything other than a few rabbits.
And a lot of squirrels, the sun was starting to set and I was
about ready to head back to the cabin before dark.
The sun was low enough that the woods were semi dark and Eerie
creating odd Silhouettes at the edge of the shadows as I was
contemplating climbing down. I heard a rustle coming from the
brush to my right. I looked over hoping for a big
buck, but immediately froze in fear.
No, more than 25 feet away. Stood a huge upright creature
covered in reddish brown, hair staring.
Right at me. Its face looked so human, but it
was definitely not human. It gave off an odor like old
coffee grounds or garbage. It was roughly 7 feet, tall or
more huge and massive. I can't emphasize enough, how
large this thing was, it could have ripped me to shreds without
breaking a sweat. The deer stand was about nine
feet up and it could have walked right over in yanked me out of
it. I was terrified, he turned and
walked off into some thick brush and I lost sight of it.
I took my chance hopped out of the stand and hurried back
toward the cabin. I was completely freaked out and
scared to death. My heart was pounding so hard I
could feel it in my head. I started to calm down a bit
thinking it had gone off in another Direction.
When I heard a limb break, not too far behind me off the path
in the brush at the edge of the Shadows.
Then I heard more rustling. It was following me.
I started to run and I could hear it.
Keeping Pace with me, just out of sight.
In the darkness of the Woods. I was really regretting.
Not bringing the four-wheeler. I heard it getting closer and
panicked. I made a decision.
I immediately regretted. I turned and fired a shot in the
direction of the noise. Hoping to scare it off.
It started screaming loudly, unlike anything I had ever
heard. It made my heart.
Skip 10 beats, I just turned and sprinted as fast as I could.
It kept screaming sounding like it was knocking down trees as it
came after me. I heard it come out crossed the
trail and then go into the woods on the other side.
Still gaining on me, screaming and wailing horribly the whole
time. I never looked back but it
sounded so close. I was sure it could grab me at
any moment. then I heard the sound of the four wheeler I kept
running while this thing was behind me.
Screaming and wailing. The most awful noise bashing
through the woods. I was still in a full Sprint and
I could hear the four-wheeler in Top Gear heading my way.
Just as I was certain this thing would catch me.
My dad appeared on the four wheeler looking just as freaked
out as I was I jumped on and he hauled back to the cabin the
entire time. I could still hear it.
Screaming behind us. I didn't look back.
By the time, we reached the cabin, the screaming had
stopped. We quickly gathered our things
decided to leave the stand and blind and got out of there.
On the way home. My dad told me that as he was a
coaching on the trail, he saw the creature may be 20 Paces
behind me, chasing me when it saw him on the four-wheeler it
ducked into the tree line. I believe, if my dad hadn't
shown up, I wouldn't be here typing.
The story, we talked about it, a little on the drive home and
then we never spoke of it again. This is the first time since
then that I've spoken of it to anyone.
It was the most terrifying experience of my life.
I can still hear it wailing and screaming and it sends shivers
down my spine. I have been in the woods much at
all since then and have never once gone back to that cabin.
I've lived in a secluded corner of South West, Virginia, my
whole life. No cable, no Internet and no
nearby Neighbors. Just Rolling Hills thick forests
and a handful of Dusty, Backroads connecting,
everything. Most folks would feel uneasy,
but I always like the isolation. I learned to hunt before I was
old enough to drive. Fishing and wandering through
the undergrowth became my version of hanging out with
friends. Maybe that sounds lonely but it
shaped who I am. It also set the stage for the
night. I nearly questioned my own
sanity. It started out like any other
Coon hunt. We had these young hounds not
exactly champion level trackers, we'd usually Trump out under the
stars with high hopes of hearing them open on a raccoon Trail.
I still remember stepping into the night air the crunch of
leaves, under my boots and the muffled bark.
One of the pups gave as we walked down and overgrown path.
I was already picturing a successful catch and a good
story to tell at the next family gathering.
After I turned the dogs loose, though the woods went still Not
the normal, kind of quiet. You get in nature.
No, wind rustling, the branches, no distant call from an owl.
Even the usual nighttime insects felt like they were holding
back. I whistled for the dogs
expecting at least one of them to let me know where they ran
off to nothing. Their silence was unnerving.
Part of me wondered if they had chased a deer too far away but I
convinced myself it was just a slow start to the night.
I decided to cut a cross a cow field to see if I could spot
them. The field offered a clear view
of the Ridgeline above, which was normally black against the
moonlit sky. But as soon as I stepped into
that open space, a strange redness caught my eye.
It stretched across the ridge in a wide band, like someone had
hung a massive red curtain over the Treetops.
There were no flickers of flame, no smoke in the air.
Just a steady glowing light. That seemed impossibly bright
for this neck of the woods. My pulse pounded, I kept trying
to come up with a logical reason.
Maybe a group of off-road trucks with brake lights on or some
heavy machinery. But this was miles from a main
road and no engine. Sounds broke the silence.
I crouched low and switched the birdshot shell in my shotgun for
a slug just in case My hands were trembling and it felt like
the emptiness around. Me was closing in.
I glanced back toward the tree line.
Torn between sneaking closer to see what was happening or
turning tail and heading home. In the end, I chose caution.
I backed away doing my best to move quietly.
Each step crunching grass and snapping Twigs far louder than I
liked. I worried something, or someone
might spot me if I turned on my flashlight.
So I navigated using the faint moonlight.
By the time I made it to the old dirt road that led home.
I was breathing hard clutching my shotgun so tight, my Knuckles
hurt. The dogs were already at the
house sitting next to their kennels, like nothing had
happened. But my parents weren't thrilled.
I'd cut the hunt. Short said, I should have gone
after the hounds instead of giving up.
That night, sleep felt impossible, the image of that,
red glow kept searing through my thoughts and I was stuck
wondering what on Earth could produce a light.
So strange and Powerful without any sign of a normal fire.
I tried explaining it. Hoping my parents might offer
some reassurance. All I got were Stern.
Looks about my so-called wild imagination.
Deep down, I knew something out there had no explanation.
I could wrap my head around and it left me with a sense of
unease. I couldn't talk away. the next
morning, I got up Before Dawn, trying to make sense of
everything I had seen That brilliant red glow wouldn't
leave my mind. If it was some prank, whoever
pulled it off. Had gone to extraordinary
lengths. I tossed on my boots and coat
grabbed a flashlight and made a beeline back to the ridge.
Part of me hoped I'd find ashes or Footprints anything that
would put my thoughts to rest but there was nothing.
Every tree looked the same as it always had.
The ground was Untouched by tire tracks and no branches were
snapped like you'd expect. If Vehicles had rumbled through
For a moment. I just stood there feeling like
I was wandering through someone else's dream.
I spent hours picking over the underbrush and combing every
inch of that field coming up with zero evidence.
It was maddening. I'd seen that glow with my own
eyes yet, I couldn't prove it. Eventually I dragged myself back
home, my mind, buzzing with possibilities.
A trick of light some Forest phenomenon or something more
ominous. I didn't realize how anxious I
was until I tried to talk about it with my stepdad that after
noon and couldn't form the right words.
He didn't tease or lecture. He just pulled me aside with an
uneasy look. He mentioned he'd gone hunting a
few nights after my incident, in an entirely different patch of
woods. He was waiting for our dogs to
bark when he witnessed three flashes of intense red lighting
up the tree line. Each flash illuminated the
forest around him like a camera strobe except tinted Crimson.
He confessed he nearly dropped his rifle and shocked.
He flicked on his flashlight thinking, maybe flares were
being fired, but the woods were silent.
No sign of people or emergency gear.
It was gone as fast as it appeared.
Hearing that rattled me. My stepdad doesn't scare easy.
So to see him unsettled clued me in that we were dealing with
something serious. Suddenly my own brush with that
glow, felt a little less like a delusion and more like a shared
mystery. We spent the rest of the
evening, tossing around theories, secret military drills
and experimental aircraft maybe even something that defies
normal explanation. None of it clicked into place
dazed by and each one felt a little more tense than the last.
We do chores feed the dogs chat about every day stuff, but it
was obvious. We were both distracted by the
memory of that red light. I tried venting my confusion on
line mostly local forums and social media groups.
Eventually, I found a thread where someone described a Red
Orb that had appeared in the sky about 10 miles away.
The post was old, but they included grainy photos of a
crimson object that shifted colors.
Reading that made me uneasy in a completely different way.
Instead of feeling singled out, I now realized, we weren't the
only ones who had seen something out of the ordinary.
I shared those screenshots with my stepdad and we just stared at
them. Neither of us, spoke right away,
probably because we were trying to figure out if we preferred
feeling alone in our experience or knowing that others had
witnessed something just as bizarre, if it was a hoax, it
was a detailed one. But if it was real, then what
was it doing? In our little corner of South
West, Virginia, we never got a neat explanation after a while.
It stopped dominating, our every conversation.
But I noticed we both started carrying our rifles.
A little more carefully. When we went out, I began
scanning The Horizon at dust imagining that Eerie glow
flickering Back to Life, part of me, almost wanted to see it
again. Just to confirm, we hadn't lost
our minds, the rest of me, dreaded the possibility that it
might reveal something. We weren't prepared to handle
those woods. Still feel like home But there's
an undercurrent of unease. I can't shake.
The questions, hang in the air. What caused that radiant Crimson
light and why choose these secluded Hills to manifest?
Without any answers, I just keep trudging up and down those
ridges wondering. If I'll ever stumble upon the
truth or if the truth might one day, find me.
I've been roaming these Farm roads for as long as I can
remember. Growing up out here meant not
much else to do, besides hunting squirrels fishing and creek beds
and helping neighbors. When they needed extra muscles.
It was a decent trade-off. They let me tread their land in
search of game and I fix a fence or Corral a stray cow, whenever
asked It was a routine that suited me just fine until I
learned about that old house tucked, deep in a forgotten
Valley. From the outside.
It was unlike any rundown Shack. I had seen before despite the
Rusted Tin Roof. The place still seems solid two
stories of finely crafted wood with every window intact.
You could tell it must have cost a fortune back when it was
built. Outback.
Stood a half collapsed building that everyone whispered about
they called it, the slave Shack and nobody wanted to talk about
its history, even the farmer who owned the land clammed up, if
you pressed him on it, He had one big rule for me.
I could hunt the surrounding Woods, all I wanted, but I was
never to set foot inside that house.
He told me, he stored equipment, there and worried I'd hurt
myself on rotting boards or rusted nails.
On the surface, it made sense. I respected him enough to keep
my distance most days. But something about that silence
structure made it impossible to ignore?
Once or twice, I slipped inside just for a peek quick and quiet.
Mostly to confirm the floors were still Rock Solid.
The farmer never found out and I never told a soul Knights out
there brought the strangest sights.
My stepdad, and I used to hunt raccoons in the fields near the
house. We'd switch off our flash lights
to preserve our night vision. Crouching in the tall, grass and
waiting. Sometimes, we'd notice a faint
glow drifting across the upstairs windows.
It looked exactly like a single candle moving from room to room
two study to be Moonlight reflecting off glass.
That Valley was nowhere near any roads and we were the only ones
around with flashlights, which we kept off.
It made no sense. My stepdad would side.
I me as if to say don't ask and I just stare at those windows
too anxious to Blink. My biggest Turning Point came on
a day that started out mild, I was out searching for red.
Fox squirrels under the big Oaks near the house.
The sky seemed clear, barely any Breeze.
Then without warning the wind kicked up in the temperature
plummeted. I'm not talking about a mild
chill, you know the kind that digs right under your skin.
My thin jacket wasn't cutting it, every gust.
Felt like it was slicing right through me and I realized I was
a couple miles from home with Zero Shelter in sight.
I had no choice but to use the one place off limits.
Stepping onto the porch. I hesitated the farmers warning
rang in my mind but my mum fingers gripped, the door knob
anyway, the wind held behind me. Ready to rip the breath from my
lungs. If I stayed out another minute,
So, I pushed that old door open and slipped into a hallway of
dim light. Instantly.
The biting cold faded, leaving me in this weird hush.
My cheeks stung, as blood started flowing again, and it
felt more comforting than I ever expected.
I remember thinking. this can't be real, because the shift was
so abrupt It was almost like Crossing into a different world.
I took a moment to scan my surroundings, the farmers
equipment wire cutters fence posts.
A couple of large toolboxes was lined up against the walls.
Dust drifted across the floor in the faint glow that seeped in
through the windows. The craftsmanship was
impressively for a house. This old smooth wood, paneling a
sturdy staircase and Tall ceilings that made it feel more
Mansion than farmhouse. Despite the grind it had a calm
Grace about it, but there was something else too.
A tingling sense in the back of my mind, urging me to be
cautious. I told myself it was just the
rush of stepping into a forbidden spot.
The fear of getting caught yet part of me suspected, there
might be another reason the farmer insisted.
Nobody come here, I felt like I was trespassing on more than
just private property. My rifle still hung over my
shoulder but I was more focused on the silence broken, only by
the muffled whale of wind outside.
As I stepped farther in each footstep seemed to Echo as if
the house itself was listening. My eyes drifted to a door at the
end of the hallway. Leading to, who knows where A
swirl of dust flashed in the light as I moved and my heart
thudded in my chest. I had never been this deep
inside, not with the intention of wandering.
I stood there telling myself, I just needed to warm up and go.
But after a moment, curiosity started to Claw at me, hinting
that maybe I should explore just a little more.
The house was silent waiting. Still a small voice in my head
insisted that some boundaries aren't meant to be crossed.
I tried to push that aside thinking what could possibly be
hiding in a place like this? Outside the wind pounded against
the old walls inside, I felt a heaviness I couldn't name. my
fingers, hovered over the door handle at the end of the hall
uncertain, whether I had open it or keep my promise, The glow,
I'd seen it at night, flickered, through my thoughts.
I couldn't explain. What was more unsettling, the
notion. I was alone in that house or the
idea that maybe I wasn't. I rested my hand on the knob
feeling the cold metal under my skin. for a second, I almost
imagined I heard movement somewhere beyond that door, just
a soft Shuffle like someone shifting, their weight, It could
have been the building settling or maybe the wind found a gap in
the boards. I didn't know what to believe.
All I did know, was that I was on the edge of something I might
regret. And that moment that fleeting
second of indecision was all, it took for me to realize, there
was no turning back. I stood in that dim Hall way
lingering by a battered door whose edges were chipped from
years of neglect. The old house had been dead
silent moments ago, but now, it seemed to breathe in unison with
me. That door in front of me was
slightly, ajar as though inviting me to cross a final
boundary. In the hush, the wind outside,
sounded remote like a distant chorus.
My mind was torn between heading back into the cold or
surrendering to the pool of something sinister.
I nudged the door opened down a flight of creaking stairs.
They led into an Inky darkness. That made every Instinct of
mine, screamed to turn away. The only reason I kept going was
because that tiny voice of pride in my head refused to admit I
was afraid. With a trembling flashlight, in
hand and my shotgun balanced on my shoulder.
I inched down, step by step each board grown under my boots and
the stale air hit my nose, a mix of damp Earth, and wrote a
warning that whatever lurked below wasn't meant for casual
eyes. Halfway down.
The warm sensation, I'd felt upstairs, vanished. it was like
entering a different world one that felt Charged, it was
difficult to pinpoint if the source was just my nerves or
something deeper. The flash light flickered.
Casting shaky beams, along the walls.
Spider, webs swayed, like veils hinting that nobody had stepped
foot here in ages. Yet, I couldn't push aside the
suspicion that I wasn't alone. Below me.
The basement opened up into a cramped space.
The walls were rough stoned with Dusty shelves lining the
perimeter From what I could see, they were mostly empty aside
from a few rusted cans and glass jars.
So, clouded I couldn't see what they once held.
I swept the flash light around trying to get my bearings each
time the beam revealed a new corner.
I have expected to catch sight of a shape crouched in the
shadows. That was when the flash light
landed on something that made my insights twist.
At the far wall large iron chains were fastened directly
into the stone. They ended in a set of equally
rusted shackles. The metal looked ancient whether
by more years than I could guess.
I moved closer though part of me didn't want to the presence of
those chains. Told a story nobody ever spoke
about a grim reminder that this wasn't just some old house, it
was a place that might have swallowed entire lives.
As I approached an icy dread seeped through my gut.
Dust coated the chains but they still bore faint scratches as
those someone or something had struggled against them.
My breathing hitched, as I extended a hand.
My flashlight's beam wavered. As I tap the shackles with my
fingertips, they made a dull clang that Echo too loudly in
that silent room. It was enough to make my teeth
cleaned. Suddenly a thunderous Crash,
reverberated from above. It felt like the ceiling was
about to cave in sending a flurry of dust raining down.
I jolted back, nearly losing my grip on the flash light, my
heartbeat pounded in my ears and I stood there waiting for
another crash or a shout or anything to explain the noise.
Nothing followed just Stillness. So completed felt accusatory
like the house had caught me snooping in the most forbidden,
place. My Common Sense kicked in
telling me, I needed to leave now.
I spun around and clambered toward the stairs.
My feet tangling in my own haste.
Each step rattled as though, the staircase might Buckle under me,
but I didn't care. I had to escape that suffocating
space. Where every second felt like an
hour. When I reached the top, I
shoved. The door closed behind me and
found myself back in the hallway gulping, in breaths of slightly
fresher air yet. Something felt different.
Now, The gentle warmth I experienced earlier, was gone
replaced by a heavy atmosphere that pressed down on my
shoulders. The silence was still there but
it carried weight. Almost like a scolding presents.
I lifted my gaze to the windows the wind outside had dropped to
a nervous hush, as if nature itself had paused to see what I
do. Next gripping, my shotgun, I
hurried to the front door. Refusing to look back down the
hall. Deep down part of me, wanted to
run back home and forget this entire Adventure. another part
wanted to tear through every room until I uncovered every
last Secret but there was no way I was staying.
Not after glimpsing those iron chains and hearing that door
slam overhead in perfect menacing timing. stepping onto
the porch, I felt the cold sting my face once more, but it was a
relief compared to the basement's choking are I move
swiftly across the overgrown, yard, not bothering to close the
front door behind me. Glancing over my shoulder.
I saw the yawning darkness of the entrance daring me to come
back. It was a silent promise that
whatever I had stumbled on was only a fraction of the story. as
I put distance between me and that looming structure
questions, flooded my mind, Who had those chains bound?
Why were they so deeply? Anchored in a place that still
radiated unease. Did the farmer know more than he
let on No matter how many times I looked back the house remained
still and inscrutable as though it held 1,000 stories in its
rotted, bones waiting for an unlucky soul to peel back the
layers. By the time, I rounded the edge
of the property, my breath steady but the gnawing unease
stayed. The ordeal left me, rattled
unsure. If I would ever see the house in
the same light again or if I even wanted to one thing was
certain the deeper? I ventured into that place.
The more it felt like it had a heartbeat of its own and it
wasn't one to be trifled with I got the invite on a quiet
Thursday. My buddy, Danny rang me up with
a once in a lifetime opportunity.
A hunting trip in northern BC on land.
Reserved exclusively for a local band in their guests.
I'd only ever heard rumors about places like this pristine
Wilderness hardly touched by Outsiders.
So my answer was an immediate. Yes, Before I knew it, I was
packing gear into my truck double checking, every piece of
equipment. Danny mentioned we'd be the only
Outsiders in the area which gave the trip a weird sense of
privilege and caution. There was an undercurrent of
excitement as we headed out in a small Convoy me, Danny, and a
handful of others including two band members who had arranged
the permits. The drive itself felt endless.
We barreled down narrow roads with barely any signs.
Tree canopies thickened overhead making it clear.
This was no typical tourist stock radio signal was
non-existent so we kept each other awake with jokes and Half
Baked legends about the Deep North.
Some funny, some dark. One story about the highway of
Tears hung in my mind longer than I'd have liked.
It was just a passing mention but it set the tone.
By late afternoon. We reached the spot designated
for our base camp, a small clearing near a winding stream.
Unloading gear felt like it took hours.
Tense went up cooking gear rattled out of crates and the
band members walked us through a few ground rules.
No wandering off alone and always let someone know where
you were headed. They said they keep track of
everyone in the territory for safety reasons.
It was comforting in theory but it also made me wonder what
might happen if someone unexpected showed up.
That first night we settled in around the fire, taking turns
sharing our plans for the next few days.
We'd split into pairs or trios to scout the area for moose or
elk. Then meet back in the evening's.
I tried to soak in the calm atmosphere.
Cool are distant Crocs of frogs in the water.
Still, there was a lingering tension in the group.
Maybe it was just me overthinking but even Danny
seemed more on edge than usual. Over the next few days, we hiked
deeper into the landscape, we followed game Trails through
brush clambered over Fallen logs and paused whenever we heard
branches snapping in the distance. every so often we'd
find Fresh Tracks or droppings, but the animals stayed elusive,
One evening, we even joked that the wildlife we were Outsiders
and decided to keep their distance.
On the fourth day though, things took a strange turn.
While trudging along a narrow path.
I noticed footprints in the mud that didn't match any of ours,
too small, maybe a different tread a few yards away.
We found a discarded food wrapper partially buried in
dirt. It could have been anyone's
trash but the band members exchanged uneasy glances, they
insisted no one else was registered to be out here.
It left me with an unsettled feeling like we weren't entirely
alone. I tried to shrug it off focusing
on the hunt, but it stayed in the back of my mind.
When we returned to base camp that evening, the others
reported similar findings Footprints.
It's a random debris. Even a faint trail of
footprints. Heading north.
We decided to remain Vigilant. No one said it out loud, but we
all knew something was off. The land was massive.
Sure. But folks, around here didn't
just wander in, without telling the band, it felt like we were
tiptoeing on someone else's Turf and that unnamed someone didn't
want to be found. By the end of that day, the mood
around our fire was noticeably tense.
We tried to keep spirits up with stories and a hearty meal, but
the conversation kept drifting toward the possibility that
strangers were lurking out there.
Part of me wanted to laugh at off, call it paranoia.
Another part couldn't ignore the quiet in the air, that felt
loaded with secrets. I told myself we'd have a fresh
start come morning. That maybe we'd figure it out or
forget about it once we bagged some game.
But deep down I sense that the real story was just getting
started and we were heading straight into it.
It happened the morning, we pushed further than usual, our
group was heading toward a new patch of land rumored to have
plenty of game, but I had a strange apprehension that kept
creeping in the band members seemed just as wary.
They kept trading anxious looks and I could tell they wanted us
all to stick closer together. We navigated dense brush for
hours Twigs snapped Under Foot and the forest around us felt
damp and heavy. Occasionally we spotted odd
Footprints leading off the trail smaller than what we'd expect
from a hunter wearing standard boots.
No one said much about them, but we all silently acknowledged,
this was unusual. Eventually Danny who was leading
motioned for us to slow down. Through the thick undergrowth.
We spotted a clearing. It wasn't big, but I caught
glimpses of something that looked like tense.
We carefully crept forward expecting to bump into another
Hunting Party. In Stead, we entered a bizarre
makeshift campsite Two tents were sloppily pitched side by
side. Several garbage bags were half
hazardously scattered around. And a couple more were leaning
against a fallen tree trunk. A ring of stones formed.
What Might Have Been a fire pit, the ash still fresh.
It felt like the occupants had stepped out only moments ago.
Yet the entire place was Silent. Not even a Russell.
We tried calling out thinking, we'd find folks who were simply
off collecting firewood or scouting.
Nobody answered Danny took a few steps into the camp while the
rest of us hung back searching for any sign of movement.
There was nothing but the rustle of leaves in the breeze.
One of the band members, Noah decided to check the tents.
He peeked inside hoping to find an ID, he quickly pulled back
with a Grimace. A couple of sleeping bags were
tossed about no personal papers. In sight, just a lingering odor,
like, stale sweat across the campsite another Hunter named
Brian poked, a hole in one of the garbage bags searching for
receipts, or something that could point to who was out here.
He paused eyes wide and waved us over. we gathered around as he
pulled out a small piece of clothing, bright pink frilly,
and obviously, not something a typical Hunter would wear Then
he reached deeper and Drew out, a handful of women's clothes all
jammed in together. We stared trying to process why
anyone would stash so many garments in the middle of
nowhere. The confusion deepened when
Brian unfolded a shirt with Rusty Brown, splashes along the
sleeves. It was impossible to pretend.
We didn't recognize what that might be.
The site made my stomach lurch. We stood there, surrounded by
half a dozen bags, stuffed full of clothes.
Some of which had what looked like old blood stains.
There were even purses mixed in several all different styles,
some with straps torn off. An icy wave of realization swept
through our group. This wasn't an innocent case of
campers for getting their laundry.
Something much darker was hidden here.
My pulse hammered and I felt the urge to leave, right?
Then we were in way over our heads.
We had no idea if the owners of this place would come back or
whether they were already watching from the trees.
Noah took charge telling everyone to stop rummaging so we
wouldn't mess up any potential evidence.
We huddled in the middle of the camp, glancing at the thick
woods around us. Every snap twig, every gust of
wind felt menacing. At one point, someone murmured
about hearing Footsteps in the distance, but we never saw
anything. It only took a few minutes of
whispered deliberation before, we decided to pack up and leave.
A direct route back to the road was our best chance.
That meant hours of fast hiking through rugged, terrain, but
none of us wanted to stay in that campsite a second longer.
We hurried back the way we came darting through bushes and
stumbling over Roots. A couple of times I thought I
heard branches moving behind us, like someone or something was
following, it was impossible to be sure in that Tangled Forest.
By the time we reach the first Gravel Road, it felt like a 1000
pounds. Had lifted off my chest, we
flagged down a passing truck and piled in breathless and shaken.
The driver looked bewildered at our story, but he drove us to
the nearest small town in silence eyes, flicking back at
us in the rearview mirror as if he wasn't sure whether to
believe any of it. The local police station was
modest a single building with a few cars.
Parked out front. We practically burst inside
trying to explain ourselves while still trying to catch our
breath. The officers were taken aback at
our account of a hidden Camp, women's clothing stuffed in
garbage bags and possible blood stains.
They asked us to point it out on a map and took down every detail
we could remember. A search party was organized but
it took close to two days for them to get out there and locate
the site. And once they arrived, it was
gone. Completely cleared out the
tents, the garbage bags. Even the fire pit stones were
removed leaving. Only faint depressions in the
dirt. Whatever.
Had been there, had vanished as if it never existed.
We lingered in town expecting updates but the authorities had
no real leads for us. No official statements ever
popped up in the local news. It was a dead end.
Whenever I asked one of the cops about it they just shake their
heads and say they were working on it though.
They never reached out afterward.
Back at our own homes. We tried to piece together a
theory. Someone remembered the talk
about the highway of Tears dozens of missing women, rumors
of organized Predators lurking in remote corners.
The clothes we found might have been connected to something.
Unspeakable that possibility stuck with me long after I'd
washed the forest dirt off my boots.
Knowing we'd stumbled across evidence of real darkness out
there on land that. Once felt so peaceful.
Unsettled me in ways, I can't fully explain.
We'd Gone In Search of game in a good time.
Instead, we discovered a piece of a nightmare that seemed to
slip through our fingers when we tried to bring it to light.
To this day, I still picture that camp whenever I close my
eyes. Abandoned tents random trash and
piles of clothes. Nobody should have found in a
place like that. We never got answers. but every
so often, I think about what might have happened, if we'd
arrived early, or if we'd stuck around too long, it's a thought
that keeps me awake more nights than I'd like to admit.
I went out to Guana State Park with seven friends thinking it
would be a typical evening Adventure.
Our plan was simple. Walk the trails under a
half-hearted moon and maybe spot some wildlife.
Most of us had never visited the place after dark and the parking
lot already felt different than it had in daylight.
We joked about the lack of crowds but there was an
undercurrent of tension in every laugh.
It was as if we were collectively, trying to convince
ourselves. We had nothing to worry about
the trailhead, was quieter than we expected, no buzz of insects
or frogs croaking in the distance.
It was like someone turned the volume down on nature.
The walkway stretched out fading into the black.
Our flash lights, barely pierce, the thick Darkness, creating
narrow beams that dance over roots and clumps of damp leaves.
I kept scanning left and right anticipating the rustle of a
nocturnal animal, but nothing revealed itself.
A few minutes in something caught my eye.
Small white glimmers on both sides of the path.
They looked like weird floating specks of light space.
At odd intervals. I mentioned them to the group.
Nobody had a clue what they could be.
One friend made a joke about lightning bugs, but these glows
were two Stark and steady for that.
We pressed on more Curious than alarmed at first.
I tried to sneak up on one of the lights.
The moment I got close it, vanished, I stared at the spot,
shining my flashlight over Mossy ground but saw only dirt Another
person attempted a different approach creeping from behind.
Same outcome. each time, we got, within a couple of steps that
glow winked out It was maddening like we were being taunted by
something that didn't want to be seen.
My nerves started to fray. The absence of any normal
nighttime. Sounds felt unnatural and these
mysterious lights made everything worse.
At some point, one of my friends swore they saw a shape moving
between the trees. We all froze, scanning the
darkness, but saw nothing. We shouted at a few tentative
Hallows into the night expecting a hike, or maybe a stray camper
to call back. Silence.
Our uneasy banter turned into hushed muttering.
Every so often another glow would appear further down the
path. Then blink off before we could
focus on it. The air felt suffocating like
we'd wandered into a place that didn't appreciate visitors.
Eventually, we'd had enough. No one wanted to say I'm scared
but we didn't need to our feet. Moved faster, practically speed
walking back the way we came. It felt like the trail stretched
on forever. Every time I glanced behind, I
half expected to see a cluster of Lights trailing us.
By the time we reach the parking lot.
We were breathing hard relieved to see the faint, glow of a
Street Lamp. We all piled into our vehicles
without much talk. The drive home felt surreal like
we just woken up from a bizarre dream.
Except each of us knew it was all too real.
I couldn't ignore my curiosity even though every nerve in my
body, warned me to stay away. A few days after that,
unsettling night, hike, I convinced my cousin to join me
for a return trip in broad daylight.
It felt safer Under the Sun or so I told myself. the gravel
crunching beneath our boots sounded normal enough but there
was a weird quiet in the air Birds perched in branches above
us, yet they barely sang. My dog stuck closed by at first
tail swishing low almost unsure if she should be excited or
weary we walked the same Trail, we'd fled from days before.
Without Darkness to hide anything.
I kept expecting some obvious explanation broken reflectors or
random debris that could have made those glowing dots instead,
we found nothing, the path looked ordinary just dirt roots
and wild vegetation. The more we searched the
stranger, it felt that something could appear.
So, clearly at night, then vanish in daylight.
My dog suddenly bolted off the main trail, she was quiet, no
barking or growling which made it even more unsettling.
We hurried after her ducking under low, hanging branches and
stumbling over uneven ground. She finally came to a standstill
around a slight Bend. No movement.
No wagging tail. She was frozen in place, focused
on a filthy cloth. Bundle nestled among leaves.
My cousin caught up behind me out of breath.
Muttering about how we should leave it alone.
But I couldn't just walk away. I moved closer and realized this
thing had definitely been here a while.
The cloth was stained the edges frayed tied with a piece of
grungy string. Attention loomed over the spot
like the air itself was heavier my cousin mumbled that it looked
like bad news, but I was too curious for my own good.
I crouched down and untied, the Ragged knot half expecting
something awful to Scuttle out. Inside, I found a mix of items.
Sharp edge Stones, small bleached bones, bits of
Driftwood, and shells, plus some twigs.
And dried leaves that look deliberately chosen.
They weren't tossed together by accident.
It all felt deliberate like somebody had curated these
pieces for a purpose. I couldn't guess.
My cousin demanded. We seal it back up and go.
I admit I hesitated longer than I should have just taking in
every odd detail. The clinginess of the bones, the
carefully selected shells, that sense of intent.
Eventually I rewrapped it as neatly as possible, set it on
the ground and stepped back, the dog broke her stare and shook
herself. Like she'd been snapped out of a
trance. My cousin and I locked eyes
deciding without a word that we'd seen enough.
We returned to the main trail, my pulse hammering, like I just
run a marathon. The sun still poured down bright
as ever but I didn't feel safe. Every crunch of leaves on her
foot seemed too loud. Getting back to the car was all
that mattered. We barely spoke until we were on
the road. Each of us trying to make sense
of a place that felt anything but normal Whatever secrets were
tucked away among those trees. I wasn't sure.
I wanted to find out yet. A part of me still wondered if
those nighttime lights and this Eerie little bundle were
connected. And the unsettling truth was, I
had no clue what either of them really meant.
I left the house while the sky still hovered in that half-life
of early morning hoping to catch sight of some Wildlife before
the day. Got too warm.
My two dogs Duke and Jax trotted out of the truck and onto the
trail usually raring to go. But right from the start,
something was off. The entire place was so quiet.
It was practically humming with tension.
No distant Birds calling not even a stray Cricket.
I'm used to the woods brimming with noise squirrels scurrying
in the underbrush a crowing overhead maybe the soft crunch
of leaves as a deer scampers away.
That morning though, there was nothing but a heaviness in the
air. I remember glancing at the dogs,
expecting them to nose around like they usually do Tails,
wagging, like they were auditioning for a dog food
commercial. Instead both stayed close to my
ankles. Jax even paused to stare into
the tree line as if he expected something to burst out at any
second. I tried to push aside the uneasy
sense in my gut by focusing on the task at hand.
I was here to hunt or at least to see what was moving around.
So I ventured Farther Along scanning the ground for tracks.
Oddly enough, I barely saw any sign of recent animal activity.
No dear Prince, no coyote scat, nothing to suggest a living
creature had crossed this path in a while.
Usually the dogs would sniff out a hint of something and tug me
in a New Direction but they had nothing to report.
After a couple of hours picking my way through undergrowth
without a single sign of game. I veered back towards a small
Creek we'd passed If the forest had decided to clam up, maybe
the water would offer better luck.
Fishing is always been my fallback.
It's just me a line and the calm reflection of sky on the water.
The quiet still held though, like, even the wind was too
scared to rustle. The leaves Casting a line into
the Creeks felt like dropping a pin in a silent Auditorium.
Duke and Jack settled on the bank.
Both gazing at me with a kind of muted confusion as if they
couldn't figure out why there wasn't a single bird overhead.
I Shrugged it off figured maybe the weather patterns had shifted
or something, had spooked the wildlife earlier Still, I
couldn't deny that it put me on edge.
That said, it didn't take long before I felt a tug on the line,
which was almost a relief. Maybe all I needed was a nice
catch to remind me that nature. Sometimes just has off days.
The fish gave a decent fight but within a few minutes, I had a
flopping in the shallows. It was odd how quickly it had
gone for the Lord. But I wasn't about to complain,
at least it was something, I hoisted it up letting the
sunlight glint off its scales For a moment.
It was almost normal. Just a fisherman and his catch.
The dog's perked up too, like maybe we'd finally shake it off.
Whatever strange, Miss hung over the morning.
But even, as I held the fish, the hush in the surrounding
trees, refused to break. No splashing of frogs.
No. Insects buzzing near the water.
It felt like everything with a heartbeat, had abandoned the
area leaving me and the dogs to puzzle over the sudden
emptiness. If I had been smarter maybe I
would have called it quits, right?
Then tossed. The fish back and headed
straight home. But I'm a stubborn old soul and
I'd come out here to enjoy the day silence or no silence.
So that's exactly what I plan to do.
At least, that was my thinking at the time, little did I know
the most unsettling Discovery still lay ahead.
All I knew in that moment was that it was only mid-morning and
already, I was counting the hours until I could climb back
into my truck and be done with this unnerving quiet.
The idea of pressing on felt wrong, but I chalked it up to
Superstition and kept going. Sometimes I wish I had listened
to my instincts, right? Then in there instead, I trudged
along with that fish in hand dogs, patting after me, unaware
of how badly the day was about to unravel.
I set up a small Fire by the creek.
Figuring a fresh caught fish would make a decent breakfast.
My dog's flanked me both more Restless than usual.
As I started the routine Gathering kindling getting a
little flame, going Duke and Jack's peering into the trees.
Like they expected a bear to come barreling out at any
second. Still not a single Branch.
Rustled no birds flitted. Overhead.
That hush felt so absolute. It gave the impression we were
Intruders in a place that wasn't ours to inhabit.
Anyway, I was hungry and tired of the Eerie Stillness so I
focused on frying up that fish. Once the fire caught, I tossed a
bit of Crisco into my pan and bent down to gut the catch.
Normally I'd mutter something about how it's the messy part of
the process, but instead I went quiet, the moment, the knife cut
through the belly. Right away.
I could see this mass of long dark parasites squirming inside
they twisted and coiled. So thickly the fishes flesh.
Looked more worm than meat. It was nauseating like opening a
rot in log and finding it crawling with insects only
worse, because I was holding it in my hands.
Duke let out a little wine for a moment.
I just stared debating whether to throw the whole thing into
the Creeks, but that seemed like I'd be contaminating the water.
So I chucked it onto the fire. Instead the parasite sizzled in
his in the Flames, giving off a smell.
So revolting at turned, my stomach, it wasn't just the
usual, stink of cooking fish. It was a foul chemical reek,
that clung to my clothes, I backed away splashing Creek
water on my hands until they felt numb from the cold.
That was the moment. I decided these Woods needed a
heads up. The Rangers might want to check
the water supply or run a test on the fish population.
So I kicked dirt onto the fire planning to head, back to my
truck and make a stop at the ranger station on my way out.
My dogs seemed relieved bounding a few steps ahead like they were
happy to leave this spot behind. Usually, I'd be disappointed
cutting a trip short but I couldn't ignore the sense that
something was deeply wrong. On the walk, back the forest
only got stranger no chirping birds, no movement in the trees.
I passed by spots where I sometimes.
See deer or foxes, but the undergrowth looked untouched as
if nothing had even brushed by the quiet.
Was so total. That every step I took on the
leaf covered ground, echoed in my own ears, it felt like the
woods had died. Yet the leaves and grass looked
perfectly alive. That's when a thin Haze started
drifting through the air. I'm not talking about morning
fog or leftover smoked, from my fire.
It was more like a faint lingering Vapor that smelled
sour almost acidic as though something was rotting in a
chemical spill. The dogs coughed and snorted
clearly, not fans of the odor. I kept glancing around to see if
we'd maybe crossed paths with a decaying carcass but there was
no sign of anything dead, just more silence and that creeping
Haze. As I pressed on, I couldn't
shake the growing urgency clawing at my mind.
Every minute I stayed in that like a risk.
The world felt wrong and it wasn't just about that fish
anymore. I started imagining an entire
water system contaminated with those wriggling parasites or
maybe a bigger issue that had driven all the animals out, I
had my rifle over my shoulder but for once it didn't make me
feel any safer. How do you defend yourself
against something invisible? Something that infects fish so
thoroughly. It's like the creature never
stood a chance. My plan was simple, get back to
the truck, get on the road report, this to the Rangers, the
dog seemed to understand the plan too, because they kept
shooting me. These anxious, looks staying
close by my side, instead of roaming ahead, I took that as
confirmation enough. We needed out every so often.
I paused to listen for any sign of life and Owl, a squirrel, a
rustle in the brush. But the silence remained
absolute, like a blanket smothering.
Any normal sound. I'd had run-ins with danger
before. Standoffs with territorial
Bears, accidental brushes with folks guarding illegal grow
sites. Those situations were alarming
but they were threats. I knew how to handle.
You can stand your ground with a bear fire.
A warning shot or talk your way out with some anxious looking
people, who'd rather be left alone.
But this. This felt like stepping into a
nightmare. Maybe it was a freak natural
occurrence or maybe it was something else entirely.
Either way I wasn't about to hang around and find out.
As the truck came to mind, I quickened my pace.
My one regret was tossing that fish on the Fire part of me
wished. I'd found a way to bag the
corpse and show a ranger. But I wasn't about to go digging
through the ashes for that, infected mess, not with the dogs
as rattled as they were. Jack's actually kept bumping his
nose into the back of my knee every few steps.
As if to say, we need to move faster and for once I didn't
argue with him, the deeper, I walked the more obvious it
became The forest had emptied out for a reason and I was out
staying my welcome. I just hoped I could leave
before. Discovering what that reason
might be? The sour Haze, the infested fish
the oppressive silence. It felt like Signs pointing Me
In One Direction out. And that's exactly where I was
headed determined to get back to my truck and away from whatever
had tainted this place. So completely I was more than
halfway back to my truck when Jack started barking in this,
wild frenzied way I'd never heard before.
Duke joined in a second later both hackles raised in eyes wide
with alarm. They were facing the same
stretch of woods. We just come through dense
undergrowth Twisted, branches and complete Stillness.
It was as if they sensed something moving where I could
only see Shadows. I gripped my rifles scanning the
area. Normally, I'd catch a rustle of
leaves or the snap of a twig, if there was a bear or another big
predator. Instead, absolute silence.
My gut told me something was watching from the trees,
something that didn't want to be seen.
Jack's back toward me tail tucked.
He never cowered like that, not even when we'd crossed paths
with a grizzly. That's what made me realize.
We couldn't just stand there. Waiting for whatever work to be
on those bushes. I started urging the dogs
forward picking up my pace. Each step felt like waiting
through molasses. There was this overwhelming
sense of pressure like the forest itself was closing in.
the are changed too bringing an intense accurate odor that made
my nose sting The stench reminded me of cat urine, only
mixed with something rotten. Every breath tasted foul as if
we were inhaling some toxic vapor.
I tried to push it out of my head, focusing on, just getting
us to the truck. We hurried, along the dogs.
Darting ahead, then spinning around to check on me.
Occasionally Duke would pause to growl at the brush but still
nothing moved. My heart hammered harder with
each stretch of Trail. For a few minutes, I started to
wonder if I was losing my mind spooked by quiet woods and a
rotten smell. But the terror in my dog's eyes
was impossible to ignore. They sentenced to threat and
they wanted out. So did I when the path finally
opened up into the clearing? Where I parked relief slammed
into me, like a wave. Even so I couldn't shake the
feeling. We were being pursued, possibly
from a distance. I fumbled with my keys, the dogs
whining and pawing at the door. The instant.
I got it open. They practically launched the
cells inside, I yanked the door. Shut turn, the ignition and
gunned. The engine gravel spit out
behind my tires. As I lurched onto the dirt road.
Speeding away. I forced myself not to glance in
the rearview mirror. Deep down.
I was afraid. I might spot a shape standing
among the trees. Something that shouldn't exist
in any Forest, I'd known. My clothes clung to me damp from
sweat and that stomach turning odor.
Part of me wanted to believe, we'd escaped, whatever was out
there, but a knot of dread stuck with me.
The forest felt alive with a wrongness and it had been
closing in the entire time. I drove home in a daze, dogs
curled up in the backseat, both panting hard, usually the warmth
of a truck ride, calms them right down.
That day even safe. Behind locked doors.
They kept their ears perked and eyes fixed on the passing trees.
I had the same thought burning a hole in my mind.
If something could silence an entire forest in its fish and
terrified two, seasoned hunting hounds, how was I ever supposed
to face it or warn people before it got worse?
I may have left that place behind for the moment, but I
knew I hadn't truly escaped it at all.
I was so sure it would be the perfect day for a winter hunt.
The kind of mourning that promises something special The
car ride to Harrisville State Park felt oddly quiet, except
for the heater rattling against the cold and my German Shepherd
Jax panting in the backseat. Every few miles.
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure he was as fired up.
As I was, he always seemed to know when we were headed
somewhere with open space and fresh air.
Stepping onto the snow at the trailhead.
I noticed how it sparkled under a low grey sky A deep hush hung
over everything. No birds calling, no rustling of
leaves. Just the crunch under my boots.
The crisp bite in the air made me shiver, but I was too eager
to let it bother me. Jack's tugged at the flimsy
retractable, leash sniffing and pawing at the ground.
As if he already had a lead on something.
I tried not to think about how cheaply made that leash felt in
my hand. Everything seems Serena at
first, but I remember spotting strange canine tracks in the
snow. They looked a bit larger than
the usual Fox prints I'd seen around these parts.
My pulse quickened and I could sense.
Jack's honing in on the scent. In that moment I can convince
myself. It was just a stray dog or maybe
a coyote passing through. Michigan Winters can turn even
familiar animals into elusive Shadows, Jax's, energy, rose,
and a little voice. In the back of my mind, warned
me to keep calm. Instead, I started talking him
up telling him to find whatever's out there.
It was an idiotic move. He was already excited and my
words, only fueled his enthusiasm before I knew it, the
plastic handle of that bargain leash started to bend, I gripped
it tighter but Jack gave one Mighty pull and the cord snapped
in the blink of an eye, he darted off between the trees
pause kicking up clouds of powder.
My hands shook as I shouted for him but my voice seemed to
vanish in the Stillness. For a second.
I felt rooted to the spot overwhelmed by the sight of my
dog disappearing into a wild expanse.
Then my body lurched forward, and I tore after him trudging
through snow, that seemed to get deeper with every step.
I could see his tracks spaced far, apart for his bounding
stride, the forest around me, felt larger, and colder.
Now that I was alone My breathing started to get rough,
a mix of worry. And the Frantic Pace, I was
forcing on myself. If Jack's found an actual coyote
or something worse, he might get hurt.
And if I couldn't keep up with him, he could be gone for good.
The deeper, I went the more anxious I became, it felt like
each tree watched me rushed by not a single Branch shifting.
The hush had turned ominous and I kept expecting something to
bolt Out of the Shadows. I tried calling Jax again voice
cracking in the distance, I heard him barking, but the echo
played tricks on my ears, making it impossible to pinpoint his
Direction. I pressed on ignoring the Tremor
in my legs. The ground was slick in places.
Hidden ice patches waiting for a misstep.
Panic started to creep into my thoughts.
If I lost the trail, there was no guarantee.
I'd find it again. Jax was a big dog, but the woods
are bigger. So I pushed forward, adrenaline
urging me to keep going, no matter how numb, my fingers,
felled or how stiff my joints had become from the cold.
There was only one goal at that moment.
Find Jax latch onto him somehow and get the both of us out of
this place. Little did I know the real
danger hadn't even begun? I caught a glimpse of jacks
darting onto a narrow half forgotten trail that ran along
the creek. Even though I had been here in
the summer, everything looked completely foreign under so much
snow. My boots hit patches of ice more
than Solid Ground and the edges of the path were dangerously
slick. But I barely thought twice, I
needed to catch up before he vanished for good.
The slope ahead was brutal. I tried to walk carefully, but
Jax was already bounding up ahead.
His tracks spaced too far apart for me to match in a normal
stride. I hurried, and my foot slid on a
hidden patch of ice. One minute I was upright.
The next I was hitting the ground so hard at Jarred my
teeth. My lungs seized up.
My vision blurred around the edges Instinct made me twist
trying to dig my hands into the snow, but I was on a downhill
slide. Every Rock and jutting rooted me
on the way down. I reached out for anything to
stop the momentum. My fingers brushed something a
branch maybe but it snapped instantly.
The hillside rushed by in a blur of white and brown, then I
slammed onto the creek breaking through a layer of ice.
That gave way under my weight. The water almost took my breath
away. It was a cold.
So intense, my muscles clenched. The shock shot through my limbs.
Making it hard to think straight.
Struggling on to all fours. I felt the stream creeping up,
my elbows, my jacket and pants. Soaked it up like a sponge one
wrong move, and I'd submerged my entire body in that freezing
mess. With a desperate push.
I managed to get my torso onto thicker, ice, near the bank,
then crawled until I was clear of the water.
That's when the pain in my leg flared up my pant leg was torn
and blood was staining the snow. I tried to stand wincing as my
knee threatened to buckle. There was a sharp pulsing throb
like a warning light in my brain.
I remember thinking that I'd be in deep trouble.
If an animal picked up the scent of fresh blood.
With my luck, there might be a hungry coyote lurking in the
distance watching for an easy meal.
Jax showed up completely unfazed panting, like he just had the
time of his life. Relief washed over me but anger
flickered too. I couldn't handle him bolting
again so I grabbed the broken chord from his side and tied it
around my wrist. My fingers shook from the cold
and it felt like the wind was trying to slice through every
layer of clothing I had on. Climbing up, the bank became a
test of will. The snow soaked into my gloves.
Each time I touched the ground and I was limping so badly, I
had to have drag my leg. It must have been two miles or
more back to the car, but it felt like Crossing some frozen
Wasteland. The quiet of the woods did
nothing to calm me every crack of an isolated Branch overhead
made me Flinch. And I kept checking behind me
convinced something might step out from the trees.
When I finally spotted the faint, outline of the parking
lot, my throat tightened. That battered old car looked
like the only safe place on Earth.
I nearly collapsed against it, fumbling for my keys.
My wet gloves, making it impossible to grip anything.
Jax hopped in the backseat on his own tail wagging.
While I cranked the heater and peeled off my soaked jacket.
I threw my rifle onto the floor, realizing there was no way.
I'd be firing any shots in this condition.
My hands were numb and I was still bleeding.
The first aid kit was tucked under the passenger seat and I
tore into it like a Lifeline. Bandaging my knee with unsteady
hands. Warm are finally blasted from
the vents but my teeth chattering and I couldn't stop
replaying each second of that descent down the hill.
Eventually I drove away the engines, whom mixing with the
rush of thoughts in my head. Jax settled in eyes, half
closed. I kept glancing at him through
the rearview mirror, feeling a jumbled mess of relief, anger
and gratitude that stretch of Creek could have become my
grave. If I had hit my head or gone
under the ice, the miles slipped by in a haze of slush and salted
roads. I kept thinking how close I had
come to not making it out. One broken leash, one moment of
distraction and suddenly nature had me in its teeth.
Ready to swallow me whole I knew I'd need to get my leg checked
out, I needed a dry clothes and something hot to drink more than
anything though. I needed to get home to let the
warmth of the house. Chase away the memory of that
frigid water. By the time I pulled into my
driveway, I was exhausted, both, physically and mentally.
I couldn't decide if I felt lucky or just plain foolish but
there was one clear lesson, winter.
Hunts aren't games and careless decisions can turn a simple
outing into a nightmare. I limped to my front door Jax by
my side vowing. I'd never let a scrap of cheap
plastic, determine Our Fate again.
Saint Helena Island. Had this strange way of getting
under my skin without warning. On most days, I hardly noticed
how quiet the marshes were or how the Live Oaks curved
overhead like old gnarled fingers.
But on that particular afternoon, the entire Island
felt charged like the landscape was waiting for something to
happen. It was impossible to ignore how
the air hung thick with attention.
I couldn't quite name. I remember stepping off my dirt
driveway with my friend, Jack trailing close behind.
We did this all the time, wandered, the woods poke Around
The Creeks, look for shells or arrowheads.
Usually there was something almost comforting about the
giant Ferns and the Moss draped branches.
Except that day, the sky looked washed out and the smell of damp
leaves turned cloying. Everything felt a little too
still. Even Jack who usually cracked
jokes, barely spoke. The deeper.
We ventured, the more I caught myself glancing back, almost
convinced someone or something was watching.
The undergrowth Russell now and again.
But whenever we spun around, there was nothing.
No birds bursting, out of the thicket.
Know, straight dogs, sniffing in the brush.
Just an emptiness. That set my nerves on edge.
It was like the woods had decided to keep quiet and see
how far we'd go. Then in the distance, a voice
called out help. Help me.
It sounded like it, belonged to a person around our age, I froze
uncertain, whether I was imagining it Jack and I
exchanged startled looks nothing about that cry.
Felt natural. Goats around, the Farms could
mimic human whales. Sure but this wasn't that there
was a raw urgency like somebody genuinely needed rescuing.
My first instinct was to rush toward it, even if logic told me
to stay put. I wasn't sure if it was fear or
determination pushing me forward, but I didn't hesitate
for long. The thought of ignoring whoever
was out there seemed worse than any potential danger.
So I told Jack we had to investigate.
The expression on his face was a mix of nerves and disbelief like
he wasn't sure whether to talk sense into me or follow along.
We decided to run back to my house.
First, it was a quick Sprint across damp leaves and Tangled
Roots. Our minds racing the whole time,
the plan was to grab a knife for safety.
Maybe some decent walking sticks and head right back.
Even at that age, I knew this was a borderline Reckless move
but something about that plea demanded a response.
Inside the house, I snatched up the items, I thought we needed
in retrospect, it was equal, parts, bravado and naivety two
kids, arming themselves to track down a stranger's cry without
telling a single adult. My heart pounded, as we ducked
outside, again. Stepping into the same heavy
atmosphere. Only now, I could feel our
anxiety pounding in my ears. The silence swallowed,
everything except for the leaves crunching underfoot.
Jack kept shooting me. Looks like he was waiting for me
to change my mind. But I pressed on somehow
convinced we could handle what ever awaited us.
Off, we went back into the tangle of vines, Guided by a
voice that drifted in and out of hearing range.
It was fainted this time more distant and that worried me Part
of me was scared, the person was losing hope assuming.
A real person was even out there.
My senses felt more alive than ever.
Each Broken Twig under my sneaker, felt like it could give
away our position to something lurking behind the thick
Palmetto France. My own breath.
Sounded too loud. Practically echoing against the
silence. Jack tried speaking a couple of
times, but every attempt at conversation died off swallowed
by the tense mood. Somewhere in the back of my
mind, I wondered if this was how the old ghost story started.
Two kids wandering off into the unknown, ignoring every warning
sign. But I pushed those doubts away
convinced. We were doing the right thing.
If somebody truly needed help, I wanted to be the one to provide
it. And if the woods were just
testing our nerves. I refused to back down first.
Still a hint of dread tugged at me.
Something about those quiet trees and that distant voice
felt off almost like they were part of some elaborate trick.
Yet, I kept walking letting that uneasy sensation grow with every
step it clung to my skin to the air to the Fallen branches
scattered across the ground when we finally reached the spot
where we'd heard the voice. The first time we paused
scanning the Shadows. No Footprints, no sign of anyone
and the silence was somehow worse now as if the forest was
waiting to see what we do next. Every instinct told me this was
more than just an unlucky hiker lost in the woods.
I should have turned around, but I was already in too deep to
hooked by the mystery to let it go.
Even Jack could tell I wasn't about to stop.
He let out a shaky sigh adjusted his grip on the walking stick
and gave me this resigned nod. Neither of us spoke but we both
understood. We were crossing an invisible
Threshold. At that moment.
It felt like we belonged to the woods more than we belonged to
ourselves. And that's how the day really
began. Two kids, two young to fully
grasp the risk too, curious to run away.
We followed a voice that seemed to shift with the wind deeper
into a maze of branches and Tangled, Vines.
No clue about the terror waiting in the parts of the forest.
We'd never even explored before. I should have known the moment
we stumbled on that Twisted path.
We were headed for something beyond our control.
Jacked the behind me, his breath uneven, as we navigated a
strange network of vines that had been manipulated into
bizarre. Shape's, It was like, somebody
had taken living plants and coaxed them into letters and
cryptic loops. Some of them reminded me of
symbols. I'd once seen in an old book, on
folklore, others were so strange.
They made my stomach clenched. But a few contained the first
letter of my name and I couldn't shake the notion that they were
a message meant specifically for me.
Everything felt unnaturally silent.
No birds, no bugs. Not even the faintest breeze to
stir the leaves. I got the sense that the woods
were waiting for me to make the next move.
Observing from every Mossy trunk The earlier call for help, still
echoed in my mind and I kept turning my head, hoping to catch
sight of whoever was crying out. But there was just the hush of
the Wilderness and these haunting sigils guiding us
forward. Each step took more effort like,
my body was trying to resist moving deeper.
We eventually reached a tree, so big that it stood out from
everything else around it. The trunk was massive wide
enough that you'd need more than one person to wrap arms around
it, a ring of smaller, trees crowded around it forming a
natural barrier, the arrangement felt intentional like the forest
had grown that way on purpose, Jack mumbled, something about
leaving, and my legs, quivered with a spike of dread.
But I kept pushing ahead telling myself we were too far into turn
back. A narrow break in the brambles,
caught our eye on the far, side of the trunk Thorns snarled, the
entrance forming a gate of sorts but we squeezed through anyway
scraping our arms and ankles in the process.
The second I crossed that threshold the light seemed to
fade. It was still daytime but the air
felt dimmer as if the sun couldn't reach this pocket of
land. My chest tightened with every
breath, but I refused to back down there was this Reckless
determination inside me, an urged to see what was waiting
beyond the overgrowth. Lay a patch of ground that had
been scorched black. The area was maybe five or six
feet across in circled by dead, grass and brittle shrubs.
It was more than just a burn Scar, the soil felled oddly cold
and the smell hanging over the place reminded me of wet ashes
at the center stood a charred tree barely half its original
height, the top portion looked like it had been snapped off and
the remaining trunk was blackened and split.
That was when I noticed the Halo a small opening in the trunk,
just a few feet from the ground normally, an owls whole wooden
bother me. But this one seemed to drink in
the light leaving nothing, but pure Darkness Within My pulse
hammered, as I stared at it. Jack came up behind me
muttering, something about going home, but I couldn't tear my
eyes away. If anything was responsible for
that cry, I felt certain it was hiding in that Hollow.
Suddenly the exact same voice. We've been following help.
Help me came from inside the burned-out tree.
Hearing those words, Echo from such a lifeless trunk made.
Everything inside me, twist and fear.
I whipped around to see Jack's face which had gone pale Neither
of us knew what to do or say. So we did.
The only thing that made sense, we ran Branches whipped at our
faces as we sprinted back the way we came in our Panic, we
veered off the trails desperate to put distance between us and
that scorched Halo. It felt like the whole forest
was closing in urging us to escape faster.
We tripped over Roots, stumbled through prickly undergrowth and
paid no attention to the path or the Twisted.
Symbols weed passed. We were terrified of seeing
something worse. If we looked back by some Stroke
of Luck, we burst out of the woods on to my driveway far from
where we'd entered. My lungs burned and my mind
world. I still gripped.
The knife, I'd brought but it felt ridiculous and flimsy
compared to what ever existed in that Hollow.
Jack and I said nothing as we caught our breath.
We both just stood there, shaking Hearts pounding.
So loud, we could hardly hear anything else.
We never told our parents or any other adults, maybe a small part
of a suspected. They'd believe it without
question, everyone on Saint Helena had their own Eerie tale
after all, but it felt better to keep this one locked away.
Instead we avoided each other for a few days to unsettled to
talk it through. I kept replaying the scene in my
head struggling to understand why the woods seem to single us
out. The strangest part was how
normal everything looked once we were safe at home.
The sky had that same dull color, the air smelled the same
but I knew something was different.
I had seen just enough to learn that the island held Secrets,
darker and more Twisted than I had ever imagined.
Whenever I passed the edge of the tree line, after that, I
caught myself expecting to hear that voice again.
Part of me braced for the moment, it would call out.
Beckoning me, back toward the scorched clearing where a hollow
in a dead trunk, could imitate a cry for help one that no living
thing should ever make. I got a late start that evening
slipping into my old hunting clothes, and grabbing the single
shot. 20 gauge from its usual spot by the door.
The night sky was Pitch Black. No moon, no distant glow, for
many town. Out here you rely on your own
eyes, maybe a weak flashlight. If you're lucky.
I remember thinking it on usually still, like, all the
wildlife had decided to bed down early.
Normally The Crickets would be a steady chorus and occasionally.
I'd catch an owl calling in the distance.
That night, I barely heard anything.
I led the hounds out two young ones, still learning the robes,
they were excitable, but reliable enough to sniff out a
raccoon or even a straight deer. If they were in the mood, they
usually dashed into the brush yipping and yapping, but this
time they were dead quiet. I chalked it up to them not
catching a sent yet. We set off along the edge of the
property heading for a familiar spot near a little stream.
My boots crunched through the undergrowth.
And I noticed that each step sounded louder than normal.
After a good 20 minutes of slow walking, I realized we hadn't
heard a single bark. Usually, even if they were on a
wrong trail, they'd make some racket.
I whistled nothing. I tried calling them by name,
still nothing. A tightness settled in my gut.
I kept going stepping over Fallen branches and pushing,
aside Tangles of weeds, hoping to see a flash of fur.
Hoping they burst out barking, like they were just playing a
trick on me. The silence hung like a thick
curtain. There came a point where I
decided to cut through a small patch of waist-high brush toward
a cow pasture from there. I could skirt around to the next
Halo and keep an eye out for the dogs as soon as I stepped into
that open field. I stopped dead in my tracks.
Across the ridge that ran parallel to the field and
intense red glow spread out, drenching everything in this
unreal color. It wasn't flickering, it wasn't
pulsing. It just bathed the entire tree
line and Crimson at first my head tried to rationalize it,
maybe the farmer was having a bonfire or some kind of brush
clearing burn. But if that was the case, I
would have smelled smoke or seen Sparks.
This glow looked almost too pure and it stretched for way too
long. A distance.
I was far enough away that I couldn't make out details.
Just the Scarlet shade crawling across the Tree.
Tops my pulse hammered as I realized there was no flicker no
crackle no smell at all. I fumbled with my shotgun
popping out the birdshot shell and loading a slug.
It felt silly. Who loads slugs to investigate a
weird light. But my instincts were screaming
that something about this wasn't right?
I knew no one would be out here with a massive Bank of red
lights. Especially not this deep off the
road. It almost felt like I was seeing
the Horizon died in blood. For a moment.
I debated marching right up that Ridge to see who or what was
causing it. My legs felt numb, torn between
curiosity and a prickling sense of danger.
I could practically taste my own fear.
The risk of running into something beyond my
comprehension kept me rooted in place.
Finally, self-preservation took over there are times to be bold
and there are times to get the hell out of there.
I opted for the latter, keeping my flash light off, I turned
around slowly, trying not to make a sound, the brush
Russell's beneath my feet leaves crackled, and every little noise
made me flinch. The only thought in my mind was
getting back home before that red glow moved or spread or
whatever in other worldly light might do.
By the time, I stumbled onto our porch, my breath was ragged and
my hands were shaking. My mom and stepdad were inside.
Not even looking up from the kitchen table.
When I started babbling about the red glow, they'd heard
plenty of wild hunting stories over the years and probably
assumed this was another tall tale.
They scolded me instead demanding to know why I ditched
the hounds out in the woods. I tried explaining but words
failed. Eventually I fell quiet
realizing. I wouldn't get any sympathy or
understanding that night. The dogs found their way home by
Dawn, looking spooked and refusing to leave their shelter.
I spent the morning drinking coffee and replaying everything.
In my head, trying to figure out how a bonfire could appear so
solid or how a glow that strong could vanish by Sunrise.
There had to be some trace, a scorched field, a line of tire
tracks something. But I already suspected, I'd
find nothing that unsettling red light became the only thing on
my mind. I barely slept after that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I'd picture the Treetops drenched in
that fiery red glow, spreading across the ridge, like some
silent warning. By morning.
I'd worked myself up enough to decide.
I had to go back and see if there was anything.
Anything at all. That could prove what I'd
witnessed. Once the sun rose high enough to
brighten the woods. I headed out.
Instead of the shotgun, I brought my backpack stuffed with
snacks water and a cheap camera. I'd borrowed from a friend.
I wanted evidence. My breath quickened, the closer.
I got to that pasture. I kept expecting to see scorched
grass or some sign of a makeshift campfire.
Yet, everything seemed normal the grass was damp, but green no
tire tracks, no scorching know, burned Outlaws.
The birds were chirping the breeze rustle.
The leaves It felt maddeningly ordinary as if the night before
had been an illusion. I paced around the area snapping
photos of the ground the trees the sky anything that might
capture some subtle clue at one point.
I knelt and tried to see if the soil was Disturbed but it just
crumbled between my fingers like regular old dirt no Footprints.
I couldn't explain no broken branches to suggest someone had
halted in a generator or floodlights If anything, it was
too pristine, which fueled my frustration.
A short walk away stood this abandoned pre-civil War home.
Weathered boards sagging inward. Growing up.
I'd heard rumors about it. Whispers of odd lights in the
windows. Disembodied voices drifting
across the yard at night. I'd always thought those stories
were just Tall Tales to Spook, local kids, but right then, with
my nerves already, frayed, it felt like a natural.
Next stop, the place looked better than ever.
It's front porch, drooped old shutters dangled from rusted
hinges and the windows were caked with dirt.
I stepped onto the porch, half expecting it to collapse under
my weight. A Sharp Creek made my heart
jolt, but it held then I spotted something moving inside.
At first, I thought it could be an animal.
But it disappeared too quickly like a flicker of a silhouette
that shouldn't have been there at all.
I pressed my face to a broken window pane, but all I saw was a
dim empty hallway. A chill crawled across my skin.
It felt like stepping into a vacuum.
No Birds Sang, no Breeze whistled.
Through the cracks. It was the kind of Silence that
makes you suspect you're not entirely alone.
I backed off before curiosity, got me doing something Reckless,
like breaking down the door. That old house had a heavy aura
and I was already wound tighter than a coiled spring.
By the time, I trudged back home, I was itching to tell
someone anyone that there was no sign of a fire.
No sign of headlights. Nothing.
But as soon as I walked through the door, my stepdad was there
pacing around looking spooked. He locked eyes with me and
blurted out. He'd seen the light too.
Except in his case, he'd been hunting in another Halo a couple
miles away waiting for the dogs to pick up a scent with his
flashlight off. Out of nowhere, three flashes of
red lit up the entire area. Bright enough to reveal every
tree trunk and leaf. Then it vanished leaving him in
darkness. I couldn't form a proper
response Beyond an open mouth stare.
We both knew we weren't dealing with imagination, hearing, his
story felt like validation. At least I wasn't going crazy.
We spent the next couple of days calling around talking to folks,
we trusted most had heard rumors of odd lights over the years,
but no one had solid proof. A few suggested, it might be
military flares, or experimental aircraft.
Others hinted, it was something not of this world.
My stepdad and I were not sure what to believe, but neither of
us could shake the feeling that something was off in these
Woods. I started digging online
whenever I could get to a place that had internet.
Eventually, I stumbled upon a local message board with mention
of a red light sighting, about a decade later in 10 miles away.
The poster talked about an object that hovered in one
place, then shifted colors. It gave me goosebumps to read
partly. Because they described that same
electric shade of red, I had seen I reached out to them
hoping for more details or pictures, but God only silence
that made my paranoia worse. Like someone wanted to bury the
story at night. I found myself checking the
window waiting for a flash of crimson that never came.
The hounds seemed skittish too. They'd Circle the yard whining
ears. Perked like they caught us of
something in the distance. My stepdad slept with his
shotgun resting against the wall.
We didn't talk about it directly, but I could tell he
was on edge, same as me. Friends started noticing, I was
quieter more distracted. A couple of them teased me about
chasing spooky lights, but the ones who really knew me could
tell something had gotten under my skin.
Finally, I mustered up the nerve to return to that pasture at
dusk. My shotgun was slung across my
back this time I wasn't taking any chances. the walk felt twice
as long as usual and every rustle of wind in the trees,
made me grip the flash light tighter when I reached the
pasture, I switched off my beam and waited Minutes.
Ticked by stretching into an hour.
The moon Rose High bathing the Rolling Hills in a faint glow
but no red light appeared just silence and the distant call of
a nightbird eventually the chill of the evening got to me.
So I turned back feeling a strange mix of relief and
disappointment on the way home. I kept replaying the moment.
I had first seen that bright glow.
It felt as if something had crossed a line that night.
Like, I'd witnessed a side of this land.
That wasn't meant for prying eyes.
Even though I found no evidence this time around, I couldn't
shake the sense that the light might reappear maybe, when I
least expected it. Part of me wanted to unravel the
mystery to push harder to investigate the old house to
scour. Every acre of that Ridge but
another part whispered that maybe it was better, not to
know. Sometimes answers can make
things worse. Still, as I walked up my porch
steps, I decided I keep looking. If that Eerie color ever spilled
across the trees, again, I would be ready to face.
Whatever was out there no matter what form it took.
I've lived my entire life in the northeastern mountains of
Pennsylvania. Surrounded by endless trees and
rugged trails, that feel more like home than any concrete
sidewalk ever could. My ex-wife on the other hand was
a City Soul through and through. She came from Trenton's, busy
streets. So naturally, my family thought
a weekend of camping albeit in our own backyard.
Would be a fun way to show her the quieter side of life.
At least that was the plan. My parents caught, it is set
against a broad stretch of land with a small Creek, trickling
aways behind a stand of dense. Foliage, We decided to Camp just
a short distance from the cottage.
Maybe 25 yards at most, it wasn't exactly Untamed
Wilderness but it had all the rural charm.
A city dweller could want plus the pop-up camper.
We pitched was cozy. Enough to feel adventurous yet.
Close enough for a quick Dash inside if we needed anything.
I spent most of that first day giving my ex-wife The Grand
Tour, the creek, where I learned to fish the grassy area, where
you can sometimes spot deer at dusk and the big oak tree that
my dad planted as a sapling decades ago.
She was enthusiastic though. I could tell it was a different
world for her. Our two lab mixes.
Yoshi and Max were having a blast Yoshi, the bigger one
tended to Barrel forward with no fear sniffing every leaf and
chasing everything that moved. Max the braver than most dogs.
Usually waited for Yoshi's cue. Together.
They acted like Unstoppable siblings racing around the yard
until their tongues practically dragged on the grass as evening
arrived. My dad's strolled up to me with
that familiar. Look in his eyes, the one he
always got before warning me about something.
Sure enough. He said a mean storm was
expected, overnight Heavy, Rain strong, winds may be hail.
Typical for these mountains, but he wanted us to know.
It might be safer to sleep indoors.
Of course, I brushed him off. We'd come prepared, right?
The pop-up had held up against all sorts of weather in the
past. I told him we'd be fine and he
just Shrugged that silent. I Told You So practically
written on his face. Once Darkness fell, the yard
felt different. The wind kicked up rustling
branches and scattering leaves around every few seconds.
The motion sensor lights would flick on and catch some stray
movement, a raccoon, maybe a squirrel before going dark
again. my ex-wife seemed both fascinated and uneasy and I
can't say, I blame her nights out here, can feel unnerving
quiet, one moment and then fill with weird noises the next by
the time we crawled into the camper, it felt like midnight
though. It might have been just shy of
11:00. The dog settled down quickly on
their blankets at our feet, still worn out from all the
running around. I was drifting in and out of
sleep. When I registered the first few
drops of rain, tapping on the roof, That gentle sound barely
registered as a threat. In fact, I figured it had lull
me to sleep in no time. I must have dozed off because
the next thing I remember was a burst of thunder.
So loud, it rattled, the flimsy windows in the camper My eyes
shot open in the blackness. My ex-wife sat up too, muttering
something I couldn't catch over the roar outside.
Rain hammered down and the wind rocked.
The camper just enough to make my stomach flip.
The dogs went from snoozing to alert in seconds, their ears
perked. That's one, I heard something
else. Like someone dashing across the
flagstone path between the cottage and the camper.
Quick steps. Not a mere Shuffle.
But a Sprint. I thought dad must have changed
his mind about letting us ride out the storm alone.
My ex-wife called out toward the door jokingly inviting him in
but no one answered. Instead, I felt a hard thump
against the camper door like a heavy fist, slamming into it.
The entire pop-up. Trembled Yoshi.
Usually would have been barking his head off by, then, but I
caught sight of him. Backing up.
Ears pinned a gravel rumbling in his throat.
Max pressed closer to him uncertain but growling too.
My ex-wife gripped, my arm and I realized I was holding my
breath. Another jolt struck the camper
this time from above producing this Eerie grown in the canvas.
It almost felt like something heavy.
Had landed on the roof. Shifting its weight as the storm
raged on. We both stared at the ceiling
unsure, if it was going to cave in or rip open.
Rain pelted harder, each burst of lightning lit.
The edges of the camper highlighting the shapes around
us for a heartbeat. I caught a flash of Yoshi,
trembling Eyes On The Roof. I could barely see my ex-wife
but I heard her breathing rapid and shaking.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't place.
What was out there a person, some wild animal, no clue.
The wind picked up even more and for a split second, the overhead
lights outside blinked on scattering pale beams across the
yard. Normally they would stay lit if
there was movement but they flickered off again.
Almost immediately plunging us back into darkness.
Another loud. Thump resonated through the
roof. The camper swayed so hard.
I thought we'd tip over if my dad was outside, I was sure he'd
be yelling for us to get inside the cottage, but there was only
the storm I leaned over to my ex-wife, trying to steady my
voice as I told her we needed a plan.
We were practically trapped in a battered, pop-up, completely
blind and clueless about what was pounding on us.
The dogs barked uncontrollably, but it felt like their
aggression was mixed with raw fear.
Honestly, I didn't blame them. It was at that moment, I
realized how risky it might be to step outside.
I thought about my dad's Hatchet resting by the fire pit.
Just a few feet from the camper door assuming it hadn't been
moved. If we had that maybe we'd feel
safer. but the idea of opening, the door without knowing what
lurked Beyond sent to wave of dread through me, Thunder
rattled overhead again and the roof grown.
Something, someone sounded like they were moving up there
dragging across the fabric. My mind raced through every
possible explanation, a bear a raccoon on steroids, or maybe a
person messing with us. None made much sense.
Not with the weighted felt like we were dealing with.
I whispered to my ex-wife that if this got worse, we'd send the
dogs out first. That plan wasn't my proudest
moment, but I was desperate. She whispered back that she was
ready to run the moment. I said, so she'd bolt straight
to my parents Cottage and bring help.
Another strike of lightning lit, the interior revealing, the fear
on her face. I tried to give a reassuring nod
but deep down, I wasn't sure how we were getting out of this with
our nerves intact. We waited half expecting the
roof to rip. Open the next flash of lightning
was so bright. I almost shut my eyes.
Then everything went dark again. Quieter for a few seconds.
I listened hard. The banging had ceased, but the
rain and wind kept going. I started wondering if we were
in the clear or if something out there was merely waiting for us
to poke our heads out like fools.
I knew one thing the night was far from over and none of us
were getting any sleep until we figure it out.
What was lurking in that storm? I told myself we couldn't stay
cooped up in that shaking camper.
The roof kept growing and whatever was out.
There seemed bent on ripping it apart, My ex-wife and I huddled
in the darkness practically yelling over the Thunder.
Trying to figure out how to escape without running straight
into its claws if it even had claws.
We had no idea. Finally, we settled on the only
plan that made sense in the moment.
Get the dogs out first, maybe they'd frighten it off or at
least give us enough time to bolt for my parents Cottage.
I took a breath reached for the zipper on the canvas door and
counted down under my breath. I flung the door open letting in
a torrent of rain. Yoshi and maxed outside barking
like they'd never barked before. Vanishing into the sheets of
water. I jumped out right behind them
and the ground instantly fell like a Shallow Lake my shoes.
Sank into the Soggy Earth and my shirt clung to me as if it
waited a ton for a split second, a flash of lightning lit.
The yard, my parents stood on their back porch, shining a
flash light around completely baffled.
Dad was barefoot in boxers? He'd obviously sprinted out of
bed. The moment.
He heard commotion. Mom was gripping him by the
elbow. Keeping him from stepping into
the mud. They shouted something, but the
wind and rain drowned out their words.
I grabbed the small Hatchet, we'd used for kindling, a feeble
Comfort, but at least it was something.
My ex-wife dashed past me heading for the porch water,
dripped into my eyes, but I forced myself to keep scanning
the yard, expecting to catch a glimpse of a hulking silhouette
moving between the trees Yoshi and Max barked toward the dark
Corners around the camper but no shape emerged.
Each bolt of lightning revealed. Only swaying branches and walls
of rain. It was Eerie how empty it looked
given how sure I had been that some Beast was out there.
Dad yelled for me to hurry inside.
So I took off Hatchet. In hand still have crouched like
I expected something to pounds. Each step felt heavier than the
last, the mud sucking at my feet.
I made it onto the porch, nearly colliding with my parents.
Mom, slammed the door. Shut behind us.
Locking it twice like an extra bolt would stand a chance
against something that could Rock a camper.
In the lights flickered, threatening to plunge the
cottage Into Darkness. My ex-wife was drenched
trembling on the couch. The dog shook out, their fur
splashing, water everywhere, dad kept shouting questions, but I
was too rattled to speak in full sentences.
I managed to choke out that something heavy had been
pounding on the roof of the camper.
Mom, eyes wide threw me. A look that said, she believed
me more than she wanted to admit.
Meanwhile dad kept repeating. You sure it wasn't a branch, the
wind can snap them. Right off.
You know, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more
than me a branch sure. Except branches don't feel like
a weight slithering across the roof.
We spent the rest of the night on the edge, every time a gust,
rattled, the windows. I half expected the front door
to burst open. the dog's paste in circles occasionally letting
out low growls at sounds only they could hear my ex-wife
refused to budge from the couch. So we all just stayed together,
jolting at every flash of lightning.
Eventually, the storm East and Dawn rolled in subdued and gray.
The yard looked like a swamp. My father still trying to brush
off the Knights of events. Insisted we go outside and check
for damage. None of us were eager for that.
But the idea of leaving the camper out there after such a
beating made me, antsy my ex-wife, stayed indoors with
Mom. Her eyes still full of panic.
I couldn't blame her dad and I trudged back outside rein
dripped from the porch roof splashing.
Our shoes. The pop-up camper looked
battered water soaked but still standing Dad approached, it
cautiously, as if part of him suspected, something might leap
out. I told him about the banging on
the sides. The swaying that made me think
it might flip over. He gave the camper a test shake
with his hands. It wobbled a little but nowhere
near the force. We felt I hopped inside scanning
for Tears or broken poles. Then Dad called me from outside
sounding more urgent than usual. He was pointing at the roof one
hand, shielding his eyes from the now drizzling sky.
When I climbed onto a folding ladder, I froze.
Four long Impressions, scored a cross, the algae and Grime on
the canvas roof, like something, with massive fingers had
gripped, the edges to haul itself up. each Mark looked at
least six or seven inches in length, spaced out too wide leaf
for any raccoon or opossum Dad stared at them for a long
moment. Silent.
I could tell he didn't know what to say.
He eventually muttered that maybe a big Branch had scraped
it during a gust, but we both knew that wouldn't explain the
weird spacing or how violently the camper rocked.
I hopped down feeling a new wave of dread.
If that was made by a person, how strong did they have to be
to lift themselves onto a slick roof in a thunderstorm?
if it was an animal, what kind of animal had fingers like that
Dad took a step back and seemed ready to dismiss the whole
thing, but he didn't look quite as confident as before Rainwater
kept sliding down my neck but I barely noticed my mind locked on
those prints. If we hadn't scrambled out when
we did, who knows what might have happened, By the time we
got back inside my ex-wife was already packing up her
expression set. She'd clearly made up her mind
that she wasn't spending another second in that camper.
We all agreed to cut The Weeknd short.
Mom tried to offer some breakfast, but no one had much
appetite. Even the dogs seemed off Tails
Lowes. Sniffing the corners of the
cottage as though, expecting another intrusion, no one ever
pinpointed, what was responsible for that terrifying, assault on
the camper. My father still drops the Big
Branch explanation. Whenever the story comes up
though, he has never looked me straight in the eye.
While saying it I'm positive. We were dealing with something
outside, the realm of normal late night, wildlife.
And though the house and yard went back to their usual calm
after that day I've never quite forgotten that stormy night, the
pounding, the rocking, and those four marks pressed into the
rooftop, like a silent warning. We left soon after all of us
soaked and sleep deprived but still in one piece That alone
was a relief. Yet, there's always been this
nagging sense that we might have escaped before discovering what
truly lurks in the shadows of those mountains.
It's a question that's still lingers unanswered.
Every time I remember that weekend.
And trust me, it's impossible. Not to remember.
I was slumped against the fence at the end of our driveway,
trying to wake up enough to face another dull day of middle
school when the Rocks Under My Shoes started shifting.
A faint Rumble. Passed beneath my feet like
something colossal was stirring Underground.
Before I could process it. The mailbox beside me clattered
so hard. I thought it would rip off its
post My brother and sister yelped and we all stumbled
backward. It was early barely light and
the whole world seemed to wobble in a way that made my stomach
feel strange. After maybe 10 seconds of this
rolling, Tremor, everything stilled.
An eerie hush swallowed, the yard, no birds.
No wind like nature was stunned by what just happened.
Dad, rushed out of the house. His face etched with worry
muttering, something about power lines.
He knelt to examine the new cracks clawing through the dirt
near the porch steps. Mom.
Hovered in the doorway eyes darting between us kids and the
yard. my brother tried to crack a joke, he always does when he's
nervous, but his voice shook, not 5 minutes later an
announcement blared from Dad's old radio in the workshop school
was canceled With the bus route probably wrecked or delayed by
the Quake. Nobody was Taking Chances.
I can't say I was disappointed. My sister and I, exchanged
glances half relieved, half, buzzing with excitement.
Even though in earthquake is dangerous part of me kept
thinking, this might mean a day free from boring math and the
chance to poke around our Mountainside without any
grown-ups telling us know, Eric my best friend since I could
walk showed up, not long after practically vibrating with
energy, he loved anything out of the ordinary.
He didn't even knock just burst through the front door,
hollering about how a couple chimneys on his street had
fallen. We huddled in the living room
talking over each other, about the quake.
About how, maybe, the Old Logging roads up by the ridge,
had caved in or something. Even my younger sister who
usually stuck to reading seemed intrigued.
Dad overheard us, buzzing about the Ridge and cut in telling us
to leave. Those weakened slopes alone, the
Quake, he warned could have loosened the rocks.
Mom looked equally uneasy insisting.
We stay close to the house. Of course, that only fueled our
determination to see the damage for ourselves.
Once dad turned his attention to the radio, and Mom started
fussing with the dishes, my brother and I locked eyes with
Eric. It was time.
We slipped out side telling Mom, we just check around the yard
which was technically true. But as soon as we were a safe
distance down the driveway, we veered off toward the trail that
led up behind the orchard. The early morning chill clung to
my jacket and the ground felt spongy where the Quake had
rearranged the soil. Broken branches.
Littered the path. every few steps Eric or my brother would
point out fresh cracks in the earth, some running shallow
others, diving deeper, like the land had been sliced open We
reach the edge of the ridge panting from The Climb loose
Stones, clattered, beneath our feet rolling down the slope.
One, big boulder had torn loose completely leaving a raw gash in
the hill. Even from a few yards away, it
looked ominous a dark slice in the earth partially hidden by
sagging roots and clumps of damp leaves.
My sister tugged at my sleeve saying, she wasn't sure we
should get too close. I remember an odd sensation in
the pit of my stomach. Something about the way the
ground had ripped. Open felt wrong.
Still, I couldn't help. Stepping closer trying to see if
the Quake had revealed anything hidden beneath the dirt.
Eric always braver than smart hopped forward and yanked at a
clump of torn, roots. He blinked then waved us over
with wide eyes. Between the muddy Vines and
toppled rocks, lay a narrow crevice, big enough to squeeze
into, if you try it. A weird draft seeped out
carrying a smell like couldn't place somewhere between old
leaves and something metallic. My brother wanted to see if it
went anywhere, but my sister backed away Crossing her arms
tight just then we heard dad calling our name from Below He
must have guessed, we'd ignored his warnings.
We scattered from the ridge slipping and sliding over damp
rocks until we were back on more solid ground.
I glanced over my shoulder at that.
Hidden Gap in the hillside feeling uneasy, but also
strangely captivated. It felt like a secret and if we
didn't explore it, the opportunity would vanish.
When we reached home, Dad, scolded us told us to stay put
and threatened chores, if we kept wandering.
But I couldn't stop thinking about that crevice.
Even as I tried to help Mom with some cleanup and pretend, I was
listening to Dad's stories about the biggest Quake.
He'd ever felt my mind drifted back to that opening. later, I
asked Eric, if he'd ever known about any cave systems up there,
He Shrugged grinning in that excited way.
He gets whenever there's a mystery.
My brother overhearing, us started pulling out dad's old
map of the area though. It didn't show anything on usual
in that spot. Mom not fooled for a second by
our apparent. Cooperation reminded us we'd get
grounded if we went up there again, but once something Peaks
your curiosity at that age, it's all you can think about The
Quake had ripped open a piece of our world, we'd never seen.
We had to check it out. That night while the rest of the
family tried to settle down, I lay in bed, Wide Awake picturing
that hidden crevice under the ridge.
Questions. Spun in my mind how deep did it
go? Was there something inside?
That subtle metallic odor still lingered in my nose.
Whenever I recalled the draft escaping from the hole.
What ever it was? I knew I wasn't going to sleep
peacefully until we investigated further.
And so even though my sister warned me over and over that it
was a bad idea and dad had threatened chores for a month.
I caught myself making a plan. Eric and my brother were on
board. The Quake had given us an
unexpected day off and we intended to use it no matter the
risk. We crept back into that, dark
mouth of the earth driven by a reckless knee to understand what
had been waiting for us behind the ridge.
With only a single Lantern to guide our uncertain steps, my
brother, Eric and I eased ourselves into the narrow
Corridor of Twisted roots and wet stone.
Every step felt like crossing a forbidden threshold.
The feeble light casting Restless dancing, Shadows on
walls. That seem to whisper secrets of
Decay the further. We went the thicker, the air
grew. So used with the rank odor of
Rotting Flesh, and a sharp metallic Tang that burned at the
back of my throat. I had to force myself to breathe
through my mouth. Each inhalation, a near choke on
the stench of something, long dead and forgotten.
Soon enough our path widened into a cramped chamber where the
beam of our Lantern revealed a grotesque, scattering of Bones.
I could tell some belong to small animals, a stray, dog,
perhaps a raccoon, or even a deer left in a Macabre display
of Nature's. Indifference.
The site was as repulsive, as it was mesmerizing.
Flies buzzed relentlessly around some of the fresher remains,
adding a constant maddening drone to the silence as we
inched along a slow drip began echoing through the confined
space. Each drop measured and
deliberate like the ticking of a grim clock counting down our
inevitable, discovery. I knelt by the wall, tracing
faint, scratch like marks that ran along the stone and found
clumps of coarse dark hair caught in the crevices.
These marks suggested that something large and agitated had
once or still roamed these deaths.
At the far end of the chamber. The ground sloped.
Sharply downward. The floor became a slick,
treacherous path. That led us to what appeared to
be a natural ledge. Overlooking a yawning Chasm.
A sudden burst of hot, humid air surged upwards, from the pit.
As if exhaling from some hidden lung deep in the Darkness, Eric
fumbled with a ragged scrap of cloth, he'd soaked in lighter
fluid until we managed to ignite it into a makeshift torch.
It's erratic flame trembled over the edge.
Casting a shaky light that barely held back the consuming
blackness below. In that wavering glow, I caught
sight of movement a massive fluid shape sliding just beyond
our feeble light. It moved too quickly to be
clearly seen yet, its presence was unmistakable.
Before we could exchange another word, a low guttural, growl
rumbled up from the depths, it was a sound so raw and visceral,
it reverberated in my chest as though the creature itself were
speaking directly to my deepest fears.
Then came a roar, an explosion of sound that shattered, any
semblance of calm. The impact of that Roar was more
than mere noises, it pounded through my skull making my limbs
tremble uncontrollably. I sank to the uneven ground
ears, straining against the overwhelming assault, Eric Feld
beside me, his body folding in on itself.
As we both struggled to catch, fleeting scattered breaths, In
the midst of the chaos. I managed a fragmented.
Glimpse, two glowing, red eyes, unblinking, and fierce fixed on
us, from somewhere. In that Abyss, For what felt
like an eternity time slowed as the sound and sight merged into
a single horrifying moment. Every Instinct screamed at me to
run yet. I remained Frozen and snared by
the sheer force of that sound and oppressive all-consuming
vibration that robbed me of thought.
The creatures presence was undeniable. its power magnified
by the darkness that cradled it I knew then that whatever lurked
below was far beyond anything, our wild imaginations could have
conjured. Struggling against the paralysis
that held me. I forced my aching body to shift
determined to drag myself away from that cursed ledge.
But the roar continued echoing off the walls of the cavern like
a promise that this was only the beginning.
With every pulse of that terrible sound, the chasm seemed
to pull us in deeper into a nightmare that we had.
Only just begun to understand. I don't remember the exact
moment when we realized we had to run only that the creatures
Roar shattered every thought of Courage we'd mustard.
My brother's grip on my arm tightened, as we scrambled up
the treacherous slope, the Slick uneven ground turning every step
into a desperate fight for survival.
I could barely hear anything over the pounding in my ears.
A Relentless ringing that felt like it was hammering my skull.
Every fiber of my being screamed to move and yet fear paralyzed
me for split seconds before adrenaline forced my limbs into
action. The cavern behind us was a
cacophony of Echoes. That unearthly Roar still
reverberating off the stone walls.
Haunted, my every step. I remember the accurate smell of
burnt wood and wet stone mingling as we burst out into
the weak Morning Light. Outside the chill of the air.
Hit me like a slap, a harsh. Reminder, that the nightmare was
far from over. I stumbled over Jagged rocks and
broken Roots, my heart hammering, so fiercely.
I thought it might burst through my rib cage.
We didn't stop running until the ridge was a distant dark memory
behind us. When we finally collapsed onto a
patch of rough grass, my brother was pale and shaking his eyes
wide with disbelief. Eric was quiet.
His face blank and numb. As though, the creatures
malevolence had sucked every ounce of color from his soul.
I tried to speak to demand that, we recount what we'd seen, but
my throat was raw and the words died before they could form
later that day, back at home. Our parents hardly recognized us
dads angry, scolding were drowned out by the silence.
In our eyes, the unspoken Terror of something Beyond explanation.
I couldn't shake this Sensation that every Creak in the house.
Every Whisper of the wind was a reminder of that monstrous sound
from deep within the Earth. My ears still rang a
high-pitched whine that persisted long after the
creature's voice faded. The doctor later said it was
likely from shock in the intense sound pressure.
But his clinical words did nothing to ease the dread that
clung to my skin. For days, I lay in bed with the
darkness behind my eyelids, filled with that scene.
The Crimson unblinking eyes in the depths of that pit, the low
guttural growl that seemed to speak directly to my worst
fears. Sleep was elusive.
When I finally dozed off, it wasn't rested at all but a
torturous replay of that horror complete with the creatures Roar
echoing in every nightmare. I woke up curled in a ball
drenched and sweat convinced that at any moment, those red
eyes would appear again. In the weeks that followed our
little group of adventurers was irreversibly changed.
Eric drifted away into silence. Barely speaking to anyone and
keeping to himself. As if the memory of that
underground Terror was a secret too painful to share.
My brother once so, full of wild energy.
Now avoided, even the hint of a cave or a dark forgotten corner
of the Woods. And me I became haunted by every
Creak in the floorboards and every shadow that moved in the
periphery of my vision. Years later, when another minor
Tremor, rattled, our sleepy town.
I couldn't ignore the pole to return.
I made my way back to the ridge driven by a mixture of dread and
a desperate need for closure. The Cave's entrance was partly
collapsed. Now a jagged scar on the
hillside yet I could still feel that old metallic odor drifting
out like a whisper from a Forgotten Nightmare.
Standing there. I felt the chill of the memory.
Run down my spine. Every time I close my eyes, I
still heard that thunderous Roar.
And saw those blazing eyes locked in a silent promise, that
whatever. Lurked in that dark pit was
waiting biting its time. I don't know if I'll ever be
free of that Terror, the scars both seen and unseen remain
etched into my memory. I live each day with the Quiet
knowledge. That something unnatural still
lurks beneath the surface, waiting for the next Tremor.
The next lapse in our guard. And sometimes in the dead of
night, when everything is still, I swear I can hear it echoing
from that cursed Place. Reminding me that some Secrets
should never be on earth. Why the hell would you all even
want to go out there? My grandmother would say in that
thick text and draw before spitting, a lot of dip into her
snuff mug. She was like a firecracker
always startling you with a pop, even though you were the one who
let the match. My grandpa Joe, a towering man,
with calus mitts for hands would Grunt in a scent and flip to the
next page of his morning paper. I missed them, my brother Jesse
and I are cleaning out their house.
After my grandmother passed Reminiscing on the mostly fond
memories we shared We were raised here taken by our mother
in the dead of night, to flee the Terrors of my drunken
father. My father wouldn't find us in
the vast Countryside of Texas. And if he did stumble upon the
needle in the haystack, he would have to answer to Big Joe who
preferred to settle disputes with his fists.
My mom made the right call. Dad was never able to find us
too many tiny towns. Like the one we escaped to, but
if there's anything I've learned The most evil things can happen.
In the smallest places, my grandparents left us the house
reopening a chapter in our lives that we desperately wanted to
keep clothes. I put it on the market and
received a quick and generous offer but only for the land, the
house would be demolished and our memories would be buried
Underwood and Rubble. I think we'd prefer at that way.
Behind the house is the vast East Texas Forest but our neck
of the woods is a little different.
Most folks from other towns use their woods, they hike fish or
even camp in The beautiful landscape that only a higher
power could have created, we don't go in ours.
There's a small Trail where you can let your kids play but soon
it ends abruptly and your staring at a long metal chain
with a rusty sign. Which firmly reads keep out.
No one really knows why the section of the forest is closed
off. If you asked a city official,
they'd say it's because the area is privately owned by a real
estate developer though. No one can remember the
company's name? There were rumors that several
people went missing over the last 40 years, because there are
no Trail markings maintained paths and that's why we're not
allowed to explore. there were also Whispers that a commune of
Pentecostals resided deeper into the forest and that they valued
privacy and the Second Amendment The story is that the original
Church in town, splintered. Back in the 1920s and the other
half set up their own community. Now, this was actually true and
documented by parishioners of that time.
But there is no evidence that the different factions were
treated Into the Woods. It didn't stop rabble rousers
from claiming, they had crossed the boundary and explored the
other side. Stories were varied, but all
came to the same conclusion. People were living in those
woods. Some told stories of stumbling
across makeshift shelters and Tents surrounding, a campfire,
others regaled, Tales of seeing shadowy figures Dart behind
trees and fear of seeing an outsider Jesse.
And I were naturally, curious and rambunctious as most twin
brothers could be. We scaled every inch of the
trail, but reluctantly heated our grandmother's warning of
never venturing beyond the boundary.
We were fascinated about what could be out there and discussed
our theories before bed. Our friends were also outdoorsy
and our fascination with the Uncharted Territory soon became
an obsession. Well, why don't we just do it?
Our friend Mikey said while we shared a cigarette in the park
We looked at him quizzically. We're about to start high
school. Let's see what the damn fuss is
about. Not seeing a reason not to.
We devised a plan to Trek the rest of our Woods.
It was me. Jessie Mikey Byrd Wyatt roads
and his older cousin Dewey who had just received his Eagle
Scout award. Dewey was odd, but we felt a
trained Outdoorsman was the best person to lead the expedition.
We decided to leave around 7:30 p.m. as my grandparents would be
asleep and my mom was still out of town for work.
We'd get at least one hour of daylight Before Sunset to
explore the Forbidden Green Space.
I remember feeling nervous as I laced, my old hiking boots in
carefully. Applied bug, spray.
We could hear Big Joe snoring in the other room and Jesse and I
snuck out the kitchen door and galloped toward Mikey's house.
We were the last to arrive, Dewey was messing with his
compass and his full eagle scout uniform while Wyatt and Mikey
pensively shared another cigarette.
We set off gliding through the mile-long trail that led to the
other side. The sun had shifted to a blood
orange Hue and we were surprised to see dark clouds Loom
overhead, huh? Do he said shifting his thick
round glasses. The weatherman didn't say there
would be rain today. Of course, you watched the
weather. Why it said rolling his eyes
while Mikey and I muffled our Snickers Do we turn back Jesse
asked before? I reminded him that this might
be our only chance. Mom would be back in town next
weekend. I ain't afraid of no rain Mike
Mikey declared the rest of us agreed and soldiered onto the
rusty sign stepping over at with ease, Jesse crossed last.
And like clockwork, rain began to put her down from the sky.
It was a Light Summer. Rain, hot to the touch and more
pungent. None of us were particularly
concerned until we heard a rumbling that sounded like
thunder. I could tell the way was nervous
moving away from the tall, Southern Oaks whose branches
looked like arms trying to grab you.
The sun was now entirely invisible, and we would not see
it again until tomorrow. A feeling of unease loomed over
us. It was hard to describe the
other side. It looked exactly like any other
part of the woods, but it felt odd.
The trail leading up was teeming with the sounds of nature from
birds or other Woodland creatures, but this part of the
forest was silent minus, the rain.
I kept looking over my shoulder as I swore, I could see Shadows
darting in and out of my peripheral vision.
Holy crap. Do we stopped us?
Look. In the distance was what looked
like a church Spire though. It was decayed with large chunks
of wood. Missing it was enormous and
stared back at us over the tree line.
Looks like there was a church after all Jesse said we should
probably go do we responded with his voice quivering?
They said those folks have guns. Oh yeah well check this out.
Mikey said while pulling out a gleaming silver pistol from his
backpack, Nabbed this from my Dad's closet.
I'll show them this. If they try and mess with us, we
all immediately began arguing and cursing at Mikey for doing
something so reckless. Why it started to turn back, but
something made him stop in his tracks.
We looked in his Direction and saw something at the top of a
hill. It was a man or at least it
looked like a man. I couldn't really make out his
face, though it appeared to Sag and stare at us in a slack jawed
gaze. Mikey, the idiot.
He was flashed his gun at the strange figure.
The man seemed to glance at the weapon and sought her back
behind the hill out of sight. Mikee smirked, take that.
But to our horror, the man reappeared in charge toward us
tumbling down the hill while moaning from his open mouth.
As he got closer, I saw that he was missing and I Mikey fired
the pistol, but the shot was so loud that he dropped it in
shock. The man barreled into us and
knocked down Mikey, while grunting and screaming from his
mouth, wailing, his arms on Mike's body like a prehistoric
primate. Dewey picked up his walking
stick and smacked the man in the face before we darted deeper
into the forest. My ears were still ringing when
we collapsed and exhaustion in an unknown clearing.
The tall Spire was closer and torrential rain slammed down on
us. You're an idiot, Mikey.
Why it's sputtered digging his knuckles into the soaked Earth.
We all stood up to brush ourselves off, Eager to return
home but there was one issue. Dewey was missing.
We started to panic screaming for Dewey's name into what
seemed like the void. Do he had everything we needed
to get out of there in his backpack?
Now, we were alone shivering and unable to see far ahead of us.
After finding our way for a bit, we heard whistling.
I didn't know the tune back then but now I know it was in the
Hall of the Mountain King. The whistling echoed loudly
through the forest and we noticed it was coming directly
from the spire. We followed the melody until we
reached the bushes to the spires entrance.
The Spire was not connected to any building and it looked like
it had been moved by a crane and onto the ground.
A makeshift doorway was cut at the bottom.
We could hear muttering and banging from inside the tower.
Lightning lit up the room behind the entrance.
There was a silhouette of a large man in the entryway, his
back was turned to us, but it became clear, it wasn't the man
who attacked us early or the man, whistling, his tune, then
walked around back with something.
Slumped over his shoulder, revealing a tie-up Dewey with
Terror in his eyes. We crept toward the spire and
tried to untie dewy but the knots were too thick and Jesse.
And I quit the scouts after third grade I remember the smell
being terrible like, rotten eggs and spoiled meat.
Mike found a table saw nearby and began furiously cutting the
ropes until we freed Dewey. We have to go now, he screamed
and we tumbled out of the Spire only to be greeted by the
massive man from earlier. He was wearing a full rain suit
and an old welder's mask was on the top of his head.
I remember him chuckling in the whistling like my grandpa did
when it was time for supper. The floodlight from the top of
the entrance lit up. I looked around and saw various
heads pop out from under the bushes, each with their faces
contorted, in either Rage, or horror There must have been a
dozen figures but I'm not sure I would call the human.
The Beast left toward us and Jesse helped me to my feet as we
barreled through the trees. The sound of screaming and
agonizing groans followed us and I was too scared to even look
back, but heard the shuffling of legs chasing after me.
We kept running until Dewey tripped over the chain boundary.
The rest of us, toppled over him with wet mud, painting our
faces. I whipped around and saw the
reflections of a dozen eyes before they turned around and
went back into the forest. We stayed on the ground for at
least an hour hyperventilating and cussing.
I sat up when my heart rate, finally, slowed down and asked
just what the hell had happened. Dewey still exhausted sputtered
out. What he saw after hitting the
man with his walking. Stick an unknown figure grabbed
Dewey who put a funny smelling cloth over his face and he went
on conscience. When he came to he was tied to a
metal pole and was staring at a wooden table with what looked
like a man in line on it. But Dewey soon realized it was a
body. The figure returned and began
muttering. A language Dewey didn't
understand a flash of lightning, hit the top of the spire and
traveled down a wire to the table, causing the body to jolt
and convulse before going silent.
The man shook his head and left and we came into untied Dewey.
We said nothing. Jesse and I didn't leave the
house for almost a week until our mother returned from her
work trip. We then uneventfully began the
school year. Never venturing to the other
side except for Dewey. Dewey graduated from high school
that year near the top of his class.
I expected him to end up at Texas A and M or University of
Texas at Austin, but instead, he disappeared, some folks, to see
him at local, Dives chatting with itinerant, strangers or
spending most of his time on the trails While smoking a joint by
myself on the trail, one night. I thought I saw Dewey slip
Behind The Rusted chain and cross into the forest.
Curious as to what he was up to. I followed him, I kept my
distance but do we walked forward?
Purposefully not bothering to even look down at his shoe.
Even though I was a little stoned, it didn't take long to
realize where he was headed. The Spire soon came into view
and Dewey slipped behind some bushes.
I knelt down to look and saw him dragging trash bags into the
towers entrance. Following him was the gargantuan
man with the welders mask. We saw last summer.
I ran as fast as I could back home in the morning.
My grandparents found several dead birds neatly aligned on
their porch. They blamed our cat Archie, but
it felt like a warning to me. I was never going back to those
woods ever again. Until last night.
While blowing off some steam. With Jesse.
We ran into our old pal Wyatt after shooting the breeze.
I asked if Wyatt had heard from cousin Dewey, Wyatt grimaced and
shook his head, turned into a recluse after all left for
college. Did some time in County, lockup
for trespassing at the local cemetery around 10 years ago.
I haven't seen him since. Jesse smirked.
He always was an oddball. Wasn't he wonder what he's up to
now. I had a feeling that night, I
couldn't sleep tossing and turning until I had a horrifying
realization. Our grandmother was laid to rest
in that Cemetery. The ground was probably still
fresh under her headstone. I flew back to my grandparents
house from our motel in my truck.
I tore into the old shed and took the carbine Grandpa Joe
kept from his time in Vietnam. I ensured it was clean and set
off on the trail soon, reaching the Rusted chain boundary.
I crossed the other side feeling like I was stepping into a new
dimension. The forest went silent seeming.
Untouched from when we were children.
I carefully made my way toward the Spire gripping.
My grandfather's gun until my Knuckles turned white.
I think I hear faint whistling in the distance.
I know I am being watched. I know I'm being followed.
When my dog ran off into the woods during one of our walks, I
knew I couldn't chase after her right away.
Everyone. In our town, knew that the woods
were empty, there was something in there and especially the
older residents insisted that it was people, or at least
something akin to people, they called them the tribe.
I never fully embraced these beliefs, but I still acted
according to them. There were just too many things
off about the woods for the tribe to be nothing but an old
Legend. The fact that everyone was
utterly convinced, the tribe was real in itself was caused for
concern. I had never heard of anybody
venturing into the forest. Not even to prove the saying
wrong. There was nobody working there
either despite the area of being so huge.
If the woods were normal, chances are there'd be Foresters
and woodcutters or maybe even hunters in there.
That's what I figured. Our pets usually stayed far away
from the tree line as well. At that point, I had no idea.
Why chips my dog had gone off there in the first place.
She had never shown any interest in the woods and had even seemed
apprehensive about getting too close to them.
That's why I always thought it safe to walk alongside the
Treeline. I was sure she'd never leave my
side. Her tearing the leash from my
hands and dashing off into the thicket that day had happened
completely unexpectedly. At least I knew who to go to for
advice. There's this guy named Duncan.
He's very old, maybe even the oldest man in the entire town.
And definitely the most knowledgeable.
He hangs out at a small Pub most of the time.
So I was sure, I'd find him there.
I got on my way as fast as I could.
When I arrived at the bar, I needed to stop for a moment to
catch my breath before looking around inside.
The interior was dark in its colors.
The wood of the floor in the counter as well as the tables
being of a warm deep Brown. The lights were just bright
enough for me to easily spot. The man I had been looking for
over in one of the corner tables.
There were not a lot of other people inside the pub at the
time. Duncan lifted his head and Mild
surprise when he noticed me approaching We weren't total
strangers in a town, a small as ours.
Basically, everyone knew each other.
Hello. I gasped.
He lifted his glass to me with a lazy smile of greeting but
didn't say anything. I need to go into the woods, my
dog ran off. He gave me a nod as if to tell
me to say no more. He went straight to business.
First off, go in there by yourself they don't take kindly
to groups and noise and be respectful to those you meet
inside. He lowered his head slightly.
You know, they don't refrain from leaving those woods because
they don't want to Does that mean they're trapped there or
something? Not trapped, the woods are there
home? And this is ours and we
forbidden them from entering ours.
That's why they don't come out. Duncan looked me over his brows
creased almost like he was trying to figure out if I had
understood the gravity of the situation.
Seemingly satisfied he nodded and went on the woods are big
easy to get lost in. There's a single path through it
leads into the woods and it'll lead you back out your safe
there follow it and you won't get lost.
Duncan gave me a few seconds to let everything sink in before
continuing once more. You don't want to give anyone in
there. Your real name names are taboo.
Knowing your name will give them power over you to be used in our
world. His wording was ominously.
Cryptic, what do you mean by that?
I asked it means you won't be able to get rid of them.
He sighed. Never mind.
Just don't let it come to that. Make up a nickname or something
and expect them to do the same. They're very careful with that.
Kind of thing, that's easy enough to remember.
I'd say you'll eventually come across the people in there and
you're going to have to talk to them.
There's no way around it. I don't want to scare you but
the further you proceed into those woods, the crazier, the
ones you're going to meet will be Noticing, my unease Duncan
gave me a quick smile. It'll be okay, just hurry get in
and out quickly and avoid the deeper Parts.
If you can, if you stay for too long, the people there in the
woods themselves are going to start messing with your head.
It's Tricky, everything's different in their space time.
Even just keep that in mind, the whole place is going to want to
screw you over. He let out a husky laugh though.
I wasn't sure what he thought was funny.
I stood up thanking him profusely.
I couldn't waste any more time. I hope chips hadn't gone deeper
into the woods in the meantime. I was prepared well enough as I
was I still had all of my dog walking supplies in my pockets.
Treats for chips, pepper, spray and handkerchiefs.
In case it would be dark. I'd have to make do with the
flashlight on my phone, but that was all right.
I headed straight for the woods. I knew where to find the PATH.
I'd walked by it before actually stepping onto it.
However, felt quite different. There was a strong sense of
unease within me. All of a sudden I was barely two
steps past the tree line and already.
I felt like I was in a whole other world.
Maybe it was all the expectation.
The anxiety built by Duncan's instructions, but when I turned
to glance behind me back outside, it looked so far away.
The trail was just wide enough for me to stand on the feeling
of dread grew stronger. The further, I went the trees
around me, stood tall and imposing and in some places
their leaves were so Lush. I couldn't see the sky above.
I tried to calm my mind by listening to my surroundings.
They say, the sounds of nature are the most soothing there are.
But somehow this singing of the birds and the quiet chirping of
insects around me only added to my discomfort.
Suddenly there was something else, the sound of water
trickling down and hitting the soft forest floor.
Slightly startled, I glanced around frantically.
Only to find the source, just a few meters ahead of me.
It was a man, his back was turned to me and he was facing
the tree in front of him. He probably hadn't noticed me
yet, so I turned to look away and nervously.
Cleared my throat. Yeah, I know you're there.
Give me a second. Will you kind of busy here?
Oh, I'm sorry. I stammered feeling my cheeks,
heat up, it's fine. The sound of the liquid running
ceased and after two more seconds, I dare to turn around
to him. I don't know what I had been
expecting, but he wasn't it. I looked him over as discreetly
as I could. He was short about my height and
of about the same age as me too. His clothes were fairly normal
as well. Jeans boots and a white flannel
shirt. The latter of which just a bit
too baggy to flatter his slight frame.
His dark overgrown, hair in the stubble on his face.
Made him look a bit, unkempt. Nice to meet you.
I said slowly if you don't mind, I would like to ask you
something. I hope it's not don't talk fansy
with me. It makes me want to puke Got it.
I muttered a bit embarrassed that had been clear enough
though. Say, do you live here?
You don't look like I do though. So, I'm looking for my dog.
She's white with black Speckles. Pretty big.
I held my hand up to my hip to indicate her height.
I haven't seen her. He replied and pets don't run in
here for no reason. What do you mean?
Maybe someone lorded away without you noticing.
We can do stuff like that, you know?
I'd watch my back if I were you, I swallowed holding his gaze.
I appreciate the advice. I finally said, I'll be on my
way. The man in the white shirt gave
me an indifferent shrug, take care, I guess.
I turned to leave with a queasy feeling in the pit of my
stomach. Glancing back over my shoulder.
I found that the man was gone. Unnerved.
I stuck to the path focusing on looking around without leaving
it. I called out for chips every
other minute hesitant to alert. Anyone yet hopeful to spot my
dog come running towards me from somewhere in the underbrush.
No such luck. I did gain someone else's
attention though. She appeared?
Right ahead of me. Just a few feet off to the side
from the path. An elderly woman with long gray
hair and a wrinkled face. She was wearing a long dirty
dress that had probably been white at one point.
She stood, unmoving, even as I kept approaching I cleared my
throat. Hello, I called out stopping in
my tracks. I didn't want to get too close
to her. She didn't answer, excuse me.
Have you seen a dog come through?
I shouted the woman slowly started walking towards me.
Her steps were lumbering and heavy.
Her head lowered. Her hair fell down to cover her
face like a stringy torn up Veil.
Despite her sluggish movements. I was beginning to grow nervous.
Something about the way she was stalking towards me.
Made me feel like I was praying about to be lunged at not
wanting to show my fear. I cautiously backed away Don't
come any closer. I told her in the most
commanding voice I could muster I reached into my pocket
fumbling for the small can of pepper spray.
I had no idea if I be able to defend myself with it at all,
but I figured it'd be better than nothing.
Please. I said, I'm not here to hurt
you. The old woman extended her hand
to touch my face. Her nails were long, sharp and
cracked. They looked almost like claws.
I didn't dare to move when she ran them through my hair.
Her dull eyes staring into mine. I held my breath.
What was I supposed to do shove her away?
I didn't want to risk provoking her then suddenly, she grasped
for my throat, I was just fast enough to duck and avoid her
Twisted bony fingers. I dashed forward and took off
running. My feet.
Drumming on the soft. Dirt ground.
I blindly raced ahead. I felt the can of pepper spray
fall out of my open pocket but I didn't stop to pick it up.
Risking a glance over my shoulder.
I saw her lumbering after me. She was not very fast though and
I noticed she never once set foot on the path.
It was like she needed to stay off at for some reason.
Still that didn't mean she couldn't hurt me.
There was a low thud behind me. I staggered to a halt and turned
to find that the old woman was lying on the ground next to her
a small rock, it must have hit her on the head, it obviously
caused her to Tumble, Despite that she was already pulling
herself back up and I took off down the trail again.
At least this would help me lose her.
I kept running until my side's were burning with pain and the
sweat from my forehead was dripping down my neck.
It was only when I was absolutely sure she wasn't
behind me anymore that I finally slowed down.
I dropped to my knees. My throat was sore and dry.
Taking deep breaths. I sucked in the cool fresh air.
I was quietly muttering phrases of reassurance to myself mixed
with the occasional swear word, Suddenly I heard someone clear
their throat. I spun around only to find the
man in the white shirt from before standing behind me.
He looked rather pleased with himself.
Did you throw that rock? I did.
Thank you so much. I he silenced me with a
dismissive wave of his hand but he was smiling still.
I bet she's more like what you were expecting to see here.
He laughed and shook his head. Look, I don't really get why
you're chasing after that much, but for what it's worth, I'm
sure it's going to be interesting to watch.
If you'll allow it, I'd like to come along.
That would be mutually beneficial, right?
I'm not saying I'll carry you around or anything but I'd make
myself useful help you out a bit.
He drew out his words leaving them to linger in the air.
I didn't need to think about the offer very long.
Yes, please. He allowed his smile to widen
looking excited as he wiped his hands on his hands.
This should be fun. Plenty, I muttered.
Hey, I know, real names are taboo, but about that.
I overheard two kids walk along the tree line talking a while
ago. One was telling the story about
someone named Tam Lin. It's too long to tell you all
about it. He almost sounded embarrassed
but I liked the story. So that's what I'd like for you
to call me Tam, Lin. Tamlin saved me.
The effort of making up a name of my own seeing as he simply
began calling me Janet. I had little say in it but I
figured complaining. Wooden help.
Who was that woman? What did she want?
I eventually asked him. We had been walking for a while
me on the path and him beside it.
Who can say, I don't know. Her personally we're not like
one big family here, he began, maybe she wanted to eat you or
maybe she was lonely and wanted company but didn't know how to
go about it. Are there more like her?
Yes, there is always more on the plus side.
It's rare to come across the aggressive ones.
I don't even know what she was doing.
So close to the path, the likes of her.
Usually stay in high-end, right, the path.
Why don't you walk on it? Because your people put it.
There he replied. Seemingly thinking this a valid
explanation, it's not our ground To Tread On.
Tam wasn't uncommunicative. He asked me a lot of things
about myself my everyday life and even my dog, I tried to tell
him as much as I could without giving anything away that I
shouldn't He didn't like talking about the woods though and I
suspected he was tired of the topic.
It would turn out. He was quite the skilled guide.
Sometimes we'd hear odd noises ahead like shouting or chanting
and he'd make us stay in place until they'd faded into the
distance. He could sense.
When there was somebody ahead we needed to be wary of and told me
when it was safe to call for Chip's and when to stay silent.
Tam himself would occasionally stray from my side and go deeper
into the woods in search of the dogs.
So I wouldn't have to leave the path.
I watched the sun set through the canopy of leaves above.
We hadn't come across anyone else.
And there was no trace of chips. I was tired and my feet were
starting to hurt. I couldn't believe that the
woods were too big to comb through in an entire day.
I had never imagined them to be this huge.
I thought about calling my parents but not wanting to worry
them. I decided against it.
I lived next door to them in a much tinier house that also
belonged to us they wouldn't notice my absence for the time
being The forest floor was soft but still quite unpleasant to
sleep on. Tam was obviously completely
unfazed by the prospect of resting on the bare ground, but
he didn't give me grief for being squeamish.
The uncomfort was one thing, but what was worse was that I felt
utterly exposed I spent the night Wide Awake, restless and
Afraid. Nothing happened though.
When Tam woke up, it was still dark.
There was no reason to keep lying around.
So we moved on, I saw the sunrise overhead, we kept
calling out for chips but still came up with nothing
remembering. What Duncan had said about the
more dangerous inhabitants of the woods living further in the
back, I asked him if it was true.
I guess he replied curtly. It made me think I wasn't
feeling well, and there was no trace of chips.
The further we'd go in the more threats there, be on the way.
Was my dog even alive anymore. Maybe I thought just maybe it'd
be better for me to Simply go back.
I'm pretty sure Tim what I was thinking.
He did his best to encourage me. Probably afraid to lose his
temporary source of entertainment this early on.
Hey, you can do this, I'll keep you safe.
Okay, do you need anything? I know where to get you food and
water if that's what you want water, I had all, but forgotten
about how thirsty I was, Duncan had told me not to eat or drink
here. But he'd also said that, if I
had to, I could what other solution was there.
Anyways, Tam assured me that the water was clean and safe to
consume. He said, he'd fetch it from a
nearby Creek. He offered to take me with him,
but I told him I'd rather stay on the path.
Otherwise we'd end up lost. A lump in my throat, I watched
him walk off. I wasn't thrilled about being on
my own, but I knew I was safe on the path.
I tried to curl up in the middle of it.
Hoping to hide myself or at least keep my head low.
I felt like an idiot and it wasn't too effective either.
My stomach dropped when I suddenly heard multiple sets of
footsteps up ahead. The unmistakable crunching of
leaves and snapping of Twigs. Came closer and closer and I
nervously stared off into the direction.
They were coming from. Soon enough I spotted four
figures appearing from behind a bunch of Hedges noticing.
They were drawing closer. I staggered to my feet, it
looked to be three women and a man all of them dressed in rags,
rather than actual clothing. Carefully staying beside the
trail. They slowly walked up to me.
The one that came closest First was one of the women She was
tall almost unnaturally. So her hair was tousled and
reached all the way down to her hip.
Her face was covered in a mix of scars and slowly healing open
wounds as though something or someone had scratched and cut it
up. The skin around the cuts was
frayed and dirty, hello? Her tone was almost cordial but
there was something about her voice that threw me off.
It didn't sound as though speech came naturally to her more, like
she was mimicking annoys. She'd heard before without
understanding the meaning of the word it was simply off.
I returned her greeting, eyes, downcast, as the other three
stepped up to me as well. Are you here on your own?
The woman asked? Know, I have someone with me.
He'll be back soon. Where did he go?
She didn't sound like she believed me.
To get water. I muttered.
So he is from the woods. Yes.
I finally dared to meet her gaze.
Her eyes were too wide to look normal.
IID with the idea of asking her about chips and eventually
pressed out the question shifting.
My weight from one foot to another uncomfortably that dog
is yours. Oh, I've seen it Quiet Chuckles
rippled through the small group as they exchanged knowing
glances. I can show you where, but you'd
have to come with us, obviously, she regarded me with a half
smile. I doubted.
She actually expected me to agree.
I would have had to be pretty stupid to do so.
Get back. I told her firmly as she leaned
in to sniff my shoulder. She straightened up again, then
one of her companions reached out and before I knew it, she
had pushed me and I staggered landing on my behind, on the
ground, beside the path. Before I could get up again, the
tall woman grabbed me by the back of my neck and lifted me to
my feet. See now we're on the same page.
Not that bad is it? She hissed softly that alligator
like smirks still on her, chopped thin lips.
Let go of me. I growled suppressing, the fear
in my voice as I struggled and eventually managed to tear out
of her grass, her nails leaving painful marks on my skin.
I couldn't get back on the path in time though.
As the man from the group had moved in front of me, blocking
it off. I stumbled away from him and the
tall lady while the other two quickly stepped over the trail
to join us on our side. It's been a while since I last
talked to one of your people. The giant woman said slowly
proceeding towards me. See my face, she went on tilting
her head. That was one of you guys now, I
doubt there's any relation between you and him, but I'm
sure you understand my wish to compensate.
I didn't care to find out how exactly she wanted to do that.
I hastily took off in the opposite direction.
Praying the Head Start would allow me to shake them off.
I could already hear them starting to run after me in
between gasps for air. I screamed for Tam Lin in the
vain hope that he was somewhere nearby.
I tried to keep my Pace chasing off birds and critters alike as
my leaps slowly, turned into lumbering faltering hops like a
pack of wolves. The group was still on my heels,
and they were catching up, tiring me out.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw the tall woman, leading her
Hunting Party, a triumphant leader already on her face.
When all of a sudden, a figure burst out from the underbrush
and lunged at her from the side. The lady was too surprised to
react and before I could blink the other person had thrown her
to the ground. I could see them clearly now and
might chest grew light with relief when I recognized Tam
Lin. Crouching on the larger woman's
chest. He dug his fingers into her
face, grabbing onto the fade edges of her, wounded skin, and
starting to pull. Her scream was blood-curdling
and ear piercing wail of agony. Her three companions had stopped
in their tracks staring at the scene in shock, but not doing
anything to stop it. After just a few seconds, Tam
got up in his hand, a small red patch of torn skin which he
dropped to the ground as he backed off.
What followed was an awkward display.
The woman staggered to her feet as we stood and stared.
The pack looked back at us and stunned silence.
They were first to turn and leave though and it was only
when we couldn't see them anymore that I dared to turn and
face Tam Lin. You left the path.
He said sounding soberly astounded rather than angry, I
couldn't speak my throat, sore, from all the screaming.
Still close to tears I nodded quietly Tam swallowed.
He looked uneasy but managed to give me a smile.
It's okay. We'll find it again.
We'll just we need to get you water first.
Anyways, I found the creek. It's just a little bit ahead.
Let's go there first and then we'll look for the trail.
I nodded again, following him once more, as he led me through
the trampled. Down bushes, he'd emerged from
the creek was nice and clear completely undisturbed in its
route through the forest. I didn't bother looking for any
sort of cup. I simply dropped to my knees and
began to shovel the water into my mouth with both hands. before
long I dipped my head into it, greedily sucking it up as Tam
stood and watched Once I was full, I let out a deep content
sigh and plopped down in the tall grass.
I had forgotten how thirsty I had been this whole time.
We stayed for only a few minutes before making our way back to
the path. And that's when disaster struck.
There's no way to talk around it.
We couldn't find it anymore. We searched all of the
surrounding terrain trying to spotted in the thicket but to
know avail By the time, the sun set.
I was starting to panic. I took out my phone, hoping to
find a map of this place and perhaps call my parents only to
find that the battery had died. It was completely useless night
fell and we had to stop and get some rest then Sunrise came
again. And we moved on This cycle would
repeat itself four times before I lost hope.
I still remember the exact moment I realized it was futile.
There was no way out anymore. The woods had swallowed it.
I was trapped. It took me a long time to accept
my fate. I cried for two entire days.
Tam Lin tried to console me, but despite his good intentions, he
failed. I'd never see my parents again.
I had never find myself in the Comforts of my home.
After these two days. However, things changed.
I grew, Melancholy then, oddly content.
The woods have an eerily soothing effect on those that it
captures that's the only way I can explain it.
I kept looking for chips hoping to, at least reunite with her
one day. We asked everyone we met on our
Journeys, through these endless Woods.
That's another weird thing. It didn't feel like I was an
outsider anymore. The tribes people.
However, bizarre and intimidating, they'd seem would
treat me as one of their own I wasn't being hunted anymore.
I got used to sleeping on the cold ground, I even began to
appreciate it. Whenever I had rest my head on
it, I felt as though I was listening to the Earth's
heartbeat. Tam Lin, and I would sleep side
by side like we had during my first night here.
Then we moved closer to one another. then, even closer still
I became accustomed to the warmth of his breath on my neck.
It was a soft comforting feeling.
Him holding my hand and pressing his cheek to mine. one day, he
uttered his true name to me and I told him my own I would rarely
feel hunger or thirst anymore and on the few occasions that I
did. The woods would feed me.
I think I must have forgotten why I had gone down that path in
the first place. I forgot who I was and what life
outside had been like I even forgot about chips.
I kept on counting the days though, even though I had
forgotten. Why 988.
That's how many sunrises passed until the day.
I woke up to barking. I hadn't heard any sounds like
it in so long. I couldn't even place it at
first. My eyes adjusting to the bright
sunlight, I could make out something large and dark right
above me. When it came down to touch my
face, I found it to be wet and warm.
A snout. By the time a large pink tongue
came out of it and started to lick the link of my cheek.
I was certain And then it all came back to me.
It was my sweet giant puppy. Her collar was still around her
neck. The leash attached to a dirty
and caked with mud, as it had been dragging behind her all
this time. I stared at her for a minute
straight, before I dare to reach out and touch her afraid, I
would find her to be an illusion or some sort of fever dream.
My hands met with matted, fur and warm skin underneath.
I grabbed her pulled her onto my lap and hugged her tightly.
I couldn't believe it. All memory of her had been
erased from my mind for all. I knew she could have died in
those woods months ago but there she was Tam looked on in
disbelief chips began to hop around looking excited, she ran
ahead for a bit and then returned almost like she wanted
to show me something I rushed after her and Tam followed
chips. Let us through the tall grass
and hedges in a weird bendy route that made me wonder where
we were going to end up. We wandered around for almost an
entire day before finding ourselves in a spot that looked
faintly familiar to me. It's hard to remember details of
a place where there is nothing but Greenery, but I knew I'd
been there before and then I saw it.
The narrow little dirt path. I was going to get home.
After all this time, I hadn't even thought of it as possible,
my desire to return to my former life was greater than ever.
And I was finally hopeful again. I picked up chips leash and
grabbed Tam by the hand. Dragging him along with me as I
took up running. I didn't stop not even when I
was starting to get tired. Finally, I saw light up ahead
brighter than the sunlight. I'd seen filtered through the
leaves. It was the end of the path.
The exit. I slowed down my breathing,
ragged and strained. Chips nudged my arm with her
head and I turned to look back at Tam so you're leaving.
He said honestly I didn't think you would ever me neither, I
admitted I squeezed his hand before letting go of it.
He nodded slowly and reached up to scratch the back of his neck.
I won't lie. With you gone, there's no reason
for me to stay any longer either.
He muttered, I thought you'd stay here with me.
See, I was happy when we were all by ourselves I could have
left already when you told me your name but I didn't want to.
I Well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it?
I stared at him with wide eyes, unable to comprehend.
What he was saying. He just smiled walking ahead of
me towards the exit. It was only, then that I
noticed. He was walking on the path, just
like me. He'd been right behind me this
entire time and I hadn't even realized it.
Now, standing by the edge of the forest Tam motioned for me to
follow. Still utterly confused.
I hurried to join him. When we stepped outside the
woods the light was almost blinding.
I blinked but Tam stared up at the bright Sky, completely
unfazed. It feels so different.
Here, he breathed lately, kicking the ground with his
boot. it's not like, I imagined, but It's nice.
He turned to me with a curious expression.
Is it the way you remembered? I was too stunned to say a word.
Tam tilted his head at me. You don't have to look so
shocked. It was you who told me your
name? That meant a lot to me.
It's still does knowing the name of one of your people.
It makes us special. It means we can tread on your
ground that we can leave. Not my original goal.
I just wanted your company. Before all this, I see you every
time you walk by the woods with that dog.
I was always watching and I kept wondering what you were like.
I made up my little plan and it worked.
As you can see, he let out a soft chuckle.
I told you some of us are lonely.
So I wasn't completely dishonest with you.
I even said that pets. Don't run off there for no
reason. Frowning, he added, I don't know
how chips found you again. I thought I'd lure her deep
enough into the forest for her to never get back.
Especially with her little doggy brain.
It took me a little while to regain my ability to speak.
You can't be serious. I figured this would come as a
surprise, I was never obvious about it.
That's why I didn't come along with you right away either.
He gave me an almost sad smile on his way.
I feel bad about it. I really do.
I know how much you wanted to go home.
I was never going to use Force to keep you in their I just kept
leading you away from the path once I got the chance, I messed
with your head, a little Didn't let you see your way home but it
was the woods influence, too. What?
You said, you could check the date on your phone.
We're outside. It'll work now.
Check I reached into my pocket fumbling for my cell phone only
to find that I could actually turn it on.
It was extremely low on battery but it worked a look at the
date. Told me that exactly three days
had passed since I'd last looked at it.
That's impossible. I breathed how I counted the
days. That's not my doing.
It's the woods. They can make you think a few
hours or months and that a week is an eternity humans, come and
go, and all experienced that affect.
My head swam and there was an odd ringing, in my ears.
I felt like I was going to pass out.
And you're letting me go. It was difficult, finding
informing those words but I forced them through my Trembling
Lips, nonetheless. What else am I supposed to do?
I don't want to hurt you. I'm just gonna see what this
side of the world has to offer. It wasn't my initial plan, but I
guess it could be worse. At least it's a change.
Do you know how boring it is to stay in the same place for
decades centuries? We've been there for so long.
No wonder some of us have gone insane over time.
And when you're in there, you keep seeing the ones outside you
people and well, you never think you're going to get out until
you do I guess. I stared at him with wide
incredulous. Eyes my mouth a gape.
Tamlin took my hand again seemingly trying to look
encouraging. I would have pulled away, had it
not been for me being frozen in place.
I'm gonna be good. I promise he said, softly and
almost childlike Glee in his gaze.
I won't hurt anybody here. I'll make myself fit in just
fine. Besides things worked out for
the one you called Duncan as well.
I felt the first prickling of unease, the moment we stepped
off the gravel parking lot and onto the dirt Trail.
The late afternoon sun was still filtering through the canopy
Painting, Golden patches on the ground.
But something about the forest was off.
I couldn't put my finger on it at first maybe it was the
silence. Usually birds chattered away
overhead and you'd hear squirrels scurrying around in
the underbrush but that day I could have sworn.
The woods were watching us. The four of us myself Brandon,
Mark and Danielle had hiked these Trails before.
Usually without incident. This time, we plan to reach
Clarks Summit before Dusk and Camp.
There, it was a trip. We'd done a few times over the
years familiar enough to feel safe but remote enough to get
that hit of Adventure but the further we walked the more
anxious I became. Even the air felt strange cooler
than it should have been for early evening.
And with a Stillness that made every snapped twig under our
boots, Ecco like a gunshot. Everything.
Okay? Brandon asked noticing me slow
down, he was always the call one.
I gave him a nod but the knot in my gut tightened.
I couldn't quite shake the sense of being observed.
I'm good. I lied picking up my pace.
We continued on following the dusty path.
That weaved between ancient trees and Scattered Boulders.
I listened intently for Birds insects anything.
The wind only side through the branches like a half-hearted
Whisperer the rest of the world felt muted, Danielle, who walked
at the head of the group kept looking over her shoulder.
I assumed, she felt that same of unease that I did.
After about half an hour, the summit sign came into view
through the thinning trees. Relief washed over me.
Nothing had actually happened. I told myself.
I was letting my imagination run wild.
Brandon and Mark chatted about what they brought for dinner,
teasing each other about who was carrying the heavier pack.
It almost felt normal again. Then Danielle froze mid-step.
She held up a hand for silence, tilting her head to one side as
if listening for something. I strained my ears picking up,
only the faint rustle of leaves and my own steady breath.
Did you hear that? She whispered?
Hear what Mark asked? He sounded more annoyed than
concerned a woman. She said, she was calling for
help. I listened harder but the woods
offered nothing. I could see from Brandon's and
marks Expressions that they heard it too.
Or were at least trying. We all stood perfectly, still
the forest unbelievably quiet as if it had taken a deep breath
and was holding it. Danielle's face fell.
Seriously, she was saying, please help me.
You really don't hear that. An uneasy look past between Mark
and me. We'd all heard weird sounds in
the forest before snapping branches, and Echo here or
there, but nothing like that. The fact that only Danielle had
heard it raise the hair on the back of my neck.
I don't hear anything. Brandon said gently.
But if you did, we need to check it out.
Could be a hiker in trouble. My stomach churned, we were
losing daylight, I cast a nervous glance at the Western
sky. Now, streaked with oranges and
reds. Part of me, wanted to keep going
to reach our plant campsite before the mountain breeze
turned cold, and the forest turned dark, but ignoring
someone who might be hurt, felt wrong.
We turned off the main trail within moments.
I was regretting it. The trees grew denser their
branches woven together, like skeletal fingers, trying to
snare our packs. The ground became uneven, thick
roots and random rocks kept snagging our boots.
I glanced back repeatedly expecting to see the trail right
behind us, but it was nowhere in sight.
Only a few hundred meters in and an odd disorientation settled
over me. The air felt thicker, my head
started pounding with a dull ache.
This is so strange, I thought were not that far from the path.
But every time I looked around the angles of the trees seemed
to shift as if they were nudging us deeper into the Shadows.
I don't like this Mark muttered scratching at the back of his
neck. Feels like we're walking in
circles. It's just over here.
Danielle insisted her voice tight I swear I heard her again.
I swallowed back a growing Panic, no matter how logical I
tried to be, I couldn't shake the impression that we weren't
alone, that the forest itself was guiding us or maybe
misguiding us. Just a branch snapping somewhere
behind me. Made my blood run cold.
I spun around with my flash light, half expecting someone
something to be peering at us through the black silhouettes of
the trees. Nothing There was just us and an
endless expanse of tall trees. We'd only been off the trail for
15 or 20 minutes, but it felt like hours.
My heart thudded in my chest. As dusk began to cling to the
trunks, stretching, Shadows across the ground.
And then it happened again. Danielle whipped her head toward
the darkest patch of woods. Did you hear that?
She whispered this time. She sounded more alarmed.
She's crying really close. My hands felt clammy.
I heard absolutely nothing, but my own pulse pounding in my
ears. An urgent voice in the back of
my mind. Told me to turn around.
Run back and never look behind me.
But fear and curiosity locked me in place.
Brandon and Mark exchanged worried glances and I realized
we were all silently asking each other the same question. if
there's someone out here, Why can't we hear her, too?
I force myself to speak. We can't go much farther in the
dark. Let's, let's figure out where we
are first. Then, decide. but as the last
sliver of the sun dipped by the ridge, swallowing the forest and
creeping Shadows a cold, realization saying in We were
off the trail disoriented and something someone had lured us
here. Whether it was just our
imagination's or some stranger calling for help.
I couldn't say all I knew was that my heartbeat refused to
slow down and every single sound, or lack thereof was
sending a jolt of raw dread through me.
And I had the sudden terrible feeling that this was only the
beginning. I don't think I realized just
how hopelessly turned around. We were until the sky bled from
Dusky purple into an Inky black despite the fact that we'd only
venture to short way off the main path, there was no sign of
it now, The forest pressed in on us from all sides, the darkness
wrapping around Tree Trunks and low hanging branches like a
thick Veil. My flashlight's beam cut
through, only a narrow cone of visibility, revealing more of
the same indistinguishable trees and twisted undergrowth.
My head felt fuzzy, a dull, throbbing behind my eyes.
When I mentioned I was feeling light-headed.
Marketed he was experiencing the same thing.
Followed by Brandon's uneasy confession.
That he was getting a weird pressure in his ears.
It was as though, the forest itself, this particular pocket
of it had shifted into some unnatural State, making us lose
our sense of direction. And then there was Danielle who
insisted, she still heard that woman's voice.
Where is she now? Brandon asked her quietly.
The tension in his face was obvious, even in the dim glow of
our flash lights, Danielle swallowed pointing somewhere
into the thick Darkness. Closer, I think she muttered but
I can't tell it's like she's moving around us.
Her words flick to spark of genuine fear through my stomach.
Something about this whole scenario felt predatory.
The idea that a wounded woman might be stumbling around out.
Here was horrifying. But part of me suspected, a more
Sinister explanation like that voice was meant to lure us.
None of us wanted to say it aloud.
It sounded crazy. Yet the hair prickled on my arms
every time. Danielle insisted she heard
someone crying. Eventually, we accepted that
wandering in circles after Nightfall was going to do us
more harm than good. The only way we'd get out of
here. Safely was by hunkering down
until morning. So we found a small relatively
Clear Spot ringed by Massive trees, and we dropped our packs.
Even with flash lights, setting up tents was a maddening,
exercise. The ground was uneven and the
silence made our soft. Curses sound like screams.
The snapping of a single twig, felt explosive in the hush.
Once the tents were up, we gather around breathing hard as
if we just run miles. My throat felt dry the air,
tasted stale. For a few moments.
None of us spoke. It was as if the darkness around
us pressed inward. My pulse hammered in my ears,
each beat a reminder that we had no idea what was out here with
us. No insects, no wind, I realized
with a chill in all my years of camping and backpacking.
I had never experienced such dead Stillness in the woods,
even the faintest nighttime creatures crickets frogs were
absent. It made me think of the moment,
right? Before a predator pounces that
hush of anticipation. I glanced at Danielle, her eyes
were wide shining with reflected flashlight beams, then I felled
it a subtle Tremor in the ground or maybe just a Russell from
above I lifted my flash light and that's when I saw movement
in a towering trees about 20 feet away.
Initially, it was nothing more than a slight vibration in the
branches. Like something was climbing I
expected to see an animal, maybe a raccoon, or a large owl.
Instead, I saw nothing. Nothing but leaves and bark
shifting as if molded around an invisible shape.
I narrowed my eyes trying to focus.
My headlamp flickered and caught a glimpse of something perched
on a thick. Branch maybe 50 feet above us.
At first, I thought it was an illusion like a distortion in
the air. A shimmer reminiscent of hot
asphalt in the summer. But the longer I looked, the
more that Shimmer took a vague humanoid outline, what the mark
whispered stepping up beside me, his voice shook, he raised his
own flashlight. Steadying it against his chest.
We both stared. The thing was definitely there
occupying space, but see through Every time it moved even
slightly, the leaves behind it seemed to Ripple as though a
bubble of refracted light outlined its form.
Guys, Danielle's voice was trembling.
What is that Brandon tried to play at all?
maybe it's an optical illusion but he didn't sound convinced
none of us were My pulse thrummed in my throat as we
stood in a tight, cluster, beams of light wavering.
With our Trembling Hands, ten seconds passed, then 20 no
spoke. My breathing sped up, and I
realized that we'd been so fixated on this. entity in the
tree that we hadn't noticed, something else The woman's voice
was gone. Danielle hadn't mentioned
hearing it again and that quiet that terrible oppressive quiet
blanketed the woods once more. For a moment, I swore the things
head or what I assumed was its head tilted down toward us as if
it was regarding us. Curiously my skin prickled from
scalp to toes. I had never seen anything like
it. It clung to the tree with
spindly limbs entirely transparent yet.
Definitely real there was no doubt in my mind that it was
aware of us watching us. We should I started to say but
my voice cut out. When the figure moved shifting,
its grip on the branch. The sound was barely more than a
soft scrape of bark. That was enough for my fighter
flight instinct to kick in my feet.
Almost took a step backward. Before I forced myself to stay
put, I wanted to run or hide, but I sense that any sudden
movement might break the tent standoff, we don't knowingly
entered, Time felt liquid like it was slipping through my
fingers. We stood there for what felt
like an eternity locked in a silent Battle of nerve with this
shimmering half invisible being At some point Brandon whispered,
should we do something? And I had no idea how to answer
then, as if it had, grown bored of us, the outline began to
climb higher. Its limbs moved smoothly
inhumanly fluid, like it was gliding up the tree trunk.
The branches shuffled dropping a few pine needles that cascaded
silently through the beam of my flashlight.
I craned my neck. Straining to keep it in sight,
but it disappeared into the thicker tangle of upper
branches. I tried to follow it with my
light but the Gloom was too impenetrable.
A new kind of dread seeped into my bones.
We could no longer see it, but that didn't mean it was gone.
It could be perched above us or moving to another tree or even
to sending on the opposite side of the trunk where we'd never
noticed until it was too late. I swallowed hard trying to think
clearly through the hammering of my heart, this is insane.
I thought were off the trail. It's the middle of the night and
were being watched by By what exactly behind me.
Danielle was muttering under her breath.
Something like she was crying now.
Nothing? Overhead.
The tree branches swayed as though touched by a breeze.
We couldn't feel everyone. Calm down.
I said forcing each word out. We need to stay together.
Though my voice shook, it was the best I could manage.
An unnatural hush spread again, broken only by the sound of
Mark's unsteady breathing beside me.
I felt almost certain something was up there.
Still lingering just out of sight.
We stood huddled close weapons of cheap flashlights clutched,
like lifelines. My skin crawled with every
second that passed convinced that at any moment.
We'd see that shimmering form descending, the trunk arms
outstretched, but the minute stretched on and nothing
happened. Finally, Brandon took a step
back, giving me a look that said everything.
We can't stay under this tree. None of us wanted to Camp right
there with the possibility of that thing lurking just above I
wrestled with a wave of dizziness.
As I gathered my pack, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
This was supposed to be a simple hiking trip.
Not a nightmare. My thoughts spiraled.
Trying to piece it all together. The woman's voice that only
Danielle heard are sudden. Disorientation this predatory
silence and now a transparent humanoid shape clinging to a
tree. None of it made sense but we'd
soon find out just how far from normal things could go despite
the fact that we were exhausted and rattled, we had only one
choice to move. Getting away from this spot or
at least finding some angle where we could see if the
creature tried to follow. Heart pounding, in my ears.
I turned to my friends, let's go.
I whispered, and with the tents half-packed and our nerves
completely shot, we plunged back into the oppressive Darkness,
Guided by The Faint, light of the Moon, and a single
desperate, hope that we could outrun, whatever was stalking us
in those trees. I could still taste fear in the
back of my throat when we set off again.
Gear have stuffed into our packs and nerves wound tight as violin
strings. None of us said, much.
It felt dangerous to speak. Like sound itself was an
invitation for whatever dwelled in these Woods to come closer.
The moon was high spilling weeks silver light through the trees
but it was nowhere near Brighton enough to cut the suffocating
Darkness all around. We stumbled through the
undergrowth stumbling over Nabi roots and tangling branches.
Every few steps I found myself. Jerking my head up to search the
Treetops. My flash light beam bobbed over
shadows and twisted. Limbs searching for that warped.
Shimmer that haunted us. But the branches revealed
nothing except feathery pine needles, glowing faintly under
moonlight Easy, Brandon whispered behind me when I
nearly tripped for the third time.
He gently caught my arm and steadied me his face in the
faint. Glow was drawn.
Eyes. Darting to every rustle, the
quiet was still wrong. No insects.
No wind like the forest held its breath listening.
Just ahead. Danielle had her hand to her ear
as if straining to pick up that impossible voice again.
My heart paying at the thought. What if she heard it right now?
Would we follow or would we run? I couldn't decide which
possibility, terrified me more, Mark hissed under his breath and
abruptly stopped. We all nearly collided into him,
he brought a finger to his lips motioning for silence and stared
off to our left. My flash light trembled and my
grip as I followed his gaze for a moment.
I thought I saw it. The faintest Ripple in the air
but a cloud slid. Over the moon, snuffing out any
light we had, and the moment died leaving only the after
image of a possible silhouette burned into my imagination.
What is that Danielle murmured voice, shaking?
Mark didn't answer. He just gave us stiff Shake of
his head as if to say, keep moving.
I realized he was sweating. Even though the night air was
downright chilly. We all were there was something
intensely claustrophobic about these woods.
Now as though the darkness pressed in on our lungs, We
trekked onward with no clue. If we were heading deeper into
the forest or back toward the trail.
Time became elastic stretching out in a series of panicked
footfalls and hammering Heartbeats.
Once or twice, someone's flashlight swept over.
Something that might have been. I shine among the branches tiny,
pinpoints of reflection, but it vanished almost instantly
leaving us rattled and breathless.
Does anyone else feel like the ground is?
shifting I asked after I had stumbled yet again, my dizziness
that sense of the forest tilting beneath my feet, intensified
with every step Danielle just nodded by biting her lip, her
eyes looked glassy and I wondered if she might faint.
At one point, Brandon reached for her shoulder and she
flinched violently a strangled gas escaping her.
It was as if she expected something else.
Something more malevolent to brush her skin.
The Moon re-emerged from behind the clouds splashing, pale light
onto a slope ahead, pine needles gleamed like shards of glass
under our boots and the night took on a frozen Stillness.
So absolute that I felt my ears ring as soon as we started up
the slope, I noticed a break between the trees.
My breath caught in my throat. Could it be the main trail?
I shot a glance at Mark who looked just as stunned without a
word. The four of us trudged up the
incline Hearts pounding in unison.
My legs screamed in protest but adrenaline kept me moving.
In my mind, I prayed let this be the path.
Let us get out of here. I didn't dare look back for fear
of seeing that shimmering figure loping, along behind us.
The moment we reached the crest, I nearly dropped my pack and
disbelief. Right there, cutting through the
forest, like a pale ribbon was the main trail.
It was unmistakable a broad path of packed.
Dirt curving gently around a Bend relief, and confusion
slammed into me. How did we get here so fast?
That that can't be right, Brandon rasped shining his
flashlight around as if searching for proof that this
was a trick. We've been walking for, I don't
care how Danielle interrupted in a low shaking voice.
We're back and we should keep moving.
None of us argued. Mark whispered, let's go and set
off down the trail at a Brisk pace.
Despite the fatigue, we kept up driven by a primal need to put
distance between ourselves and whatever, lurked in that part of
the forest. We didn't talk for a while.
At least not until our footfalls started to sound normal again.
Echoing lightly in the chili are eventually the trail widened and
I could see it clearly under the moon's glow.
Finally, I felt I could breathe. Only then, did I realize how
tight my chest had been all evening.
However, breath felt borrowed. We slowed as we neared a fork in
the path. One I recognized from earlier
trips. It meant that in less than half
an hour we'd be back at a small clearing and beyond that.
Maybe an hour's hike from the parking area Home Free except
none of us felt calm. The hairs on my arms remained
rigid and my stomach still turned with Dread.
Danielle broke the silence. First, do you guys believe me
about the voice? She asked it, softly, her eyes
shining with unshed tears. Brandon side shoulders sagging.
I don't know what to believe right now.
He admitted, but I know something let us out there.
Something that wanted us off the trail.
I shuddered remembering how the forests seemed to bend around
us, how we'd become disoriented in minutes.
Yet had returned in mere moments.
My mind refused to make sense of it.
Was that thing in the tree and animal, some freak trick of
light an alien. Or was it even real?
Part of me, desperately wanted to chalk the whole ordeal up to
mass Hysteria. But how to dismiss that
nauseating electric hush in the woods, or the shape that climbed
like a spider? We shouldn't stay here.
Mark muttered glancing back at the darkness behind us.
He looked spooked in a way I'd never seen before.
We need to get out of the forest, we pressed on.
The path was easy to navigate, but each minute felt like
stepping on thin ice waiting for something to crack beneath us.
Every time a branch creaked in the breeze, I thought of that
shimmering figure perched overhead or that heartbreakingly
human voice, Danielle swore she heard.
I found myself gripping my flash light as though, it were a
weapon scanning, The Towering trees for the slightest, Ripple.
Soon, a dim glow of dawn replaced, The Moonlight on the
horizon, turning the sky, a pallid Gray.
The forest around us began to look almost normal.
Just Tall, Pine trees and brambles undergrowth thick with
shadows. But the sense of normalcy fell
short, we all bore fresh, emotional wounds eyes haunted by
a fear. We couldn't name When the first
chirp of a bird broke that cursed silence.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. After the stifling quiet
earlier, the sudden return of natural forest, sounds felt both
relieving and disconcerting. Finally, we spotted the lot
where our cars were parked the shape of them hazy and the dawn
light That's when we stopped for a moment, turning back to stare
at the tree line. We were safe.
Presumably, the sun was coming up and whatever, haunted that
place, lurked, well, within the depths of the forest, Yet, none
of us spoke. We just stood there, breathing
in ragged gasps, like fugitives who narrowly escaped a Predators
dead. Mark broke the Silence by
reaching into his pack for his keys Brandon cleared his throat
and asked something about double checking the gear but his eyes
were glued to the trees. Danielle was the last to look
away. She seemed lost in thought brow
furrowed as if trying to decipher, whether the voice was
real or something else entirely me.
I was stuck in a loop replaying the night, the oppressive hush,
the confusion. The shimmering shape that
watched us with silent intent. I wondered if we had almost
fallen for some gruesome trick if that cry for help was abated
snare. I wondered what would have
happened if we hadn't noticed that translucent figure in the
tree. Or if it had decided to come
down. Eventually, we piled into our
vehicles, the relief of a working engines.
Rumble beneath me, almost brought tears to my eyes.
As we drove away, I looked in the rearview mirror at the trees
receding. A trick of the light made it
seem like a faint Distortion hovered between the branches.
A shape perhaps or just my traumatized mind filling in the
blanks. Maybe we were just lucky.
I thought forcing my eyes back to the road.
Lucky to have escaped, whatever was out there, something that
might still be waiting. For the next group of hikers to
stray to far, or maybe it decided for reasons on known to
let us go. The things I do know, for sure.
I'll never ignore that prickle of dread in the woods again and
I'll never ever follow a voice. Only one person can hear
especially not in the dead of night in a forest, that feels
like it's breathing around you. Some places are meant to be left
alone and some cries in the dark, aren't really cries for
help their invitations. And we almost signed up for our
own Doom. When I was in my teens my friend
Robert and I would often visit Forest Glen National Park.
It's a national forest preserve that's located just about 15
miles from my hometown. It offers camping fishing.
And most importantly for our purposes back, then many winding
trails to hike on Robert and I didn't have a whole lot to do
back in the day. So Forest, Glen is where we
would go to spend a lot of our time.
Both of us enjoyed the outdoors, and we would go hiking on one of
the many trails nearly every day.
Sometimes we do two or three depending on our mood, It wasn't
long, of course, before we knew them all by heart, and we both
had our favorites. That didn't matter though, we
would still go on any of them on any given day eventually though,
time went on and Robert and I grew up Robert and I are still
good friends but we hadn't been out to Forest Glen in a long
time. It was recently that I had been
reminiscing about those old Trails though and I decided that
I wanted to go back out there and visit some of my favorite
spots. So, two weeks ago, I called
Robert and asked if he wanted to go back out there with me that
weekend and to my surprise, he was overjoyed at my proposal.
He said he'd been thinking about going out there himself, but
just hadn't gotten around to it. So it was decided on Saturday
morning. We would head out to Forest Glen
and meet up at one of Robert's favorite Trails.
I made it out to that trail at Forest Glen about 10 after 6:00
in the morning. When I drove out to the Reserve
I parked my car in the spot closest to the trail, but I
didn't see Robert's car. There's more than one entrance
into the park. So I thought that Robert hadn't
arrived yet or he was parked at one of the spots that was near
one of the other entrances. I thought I might call him.
But when I looked at my phone, I saw that I only had one bar and
figured that it wouldn't go through.
I should have known the reception would be bad out
there. Stashing, the phone in the glove
box. I got out and made my way to the
trail. I started to do some stretches
in front of the trail entrance while I waited for Robert to
arrive. After waiting, for what felt
like about 10 minutes, I began to wonder if Robert was going to
show up late. when we made the plans to show up at the trail,
we agreed on 6:30 a.m. I thought about jogging back to
my car, to grab my phone and call him after all.
But I decided to instead Venture into the trail, a little ways
and then returned after a moment to see if he had shown up, I
started my walk at a Brisk Pace into the opening of the trail.
The clear patch of the trails entrance quickly, gave way to a
narrow, cleared path, surrounded on both sides by a thick growth
of brush and tall trees. The trail seemed a bit more
overgrown than I remembered, but I suppose that was a good thing.
It meant that The Preserve was thriving.
I did notice however that it was rather quiet out there on the
trail. That isn't to say, there was no
sound at all, I could hear the occasional call of a bird and
the rustling of leaves, but the sound seemed somehow muted.
It was if the entire Woods, had its volume button turned way
down low. About three minutes into my
stroll. I stopped just before a small
stream that cut through the trail.
I looked to the other side of the stream, where the trails
path resumed. The path stretched out of a few
100 feet Beyond The Stream and looked like it forked off in two
different directions as far as I could tell.
This is when I decided to turn back and wait for Robert at the
entrance. I never knew this Trail like
Robert used to and for the life of me, I couldn't remember how
far it went before I turned to leave.
I knelt down to tie my sneaker. When I finished, I stood up and
had to stifle a scream. Robert was standing right in
front of me, grinning like an idiot.
And when he saw the look on my face, he howled with laughter,
my face went hot and I gritted my teeth.
What the hell, man? I yelled you nearly gave me a
freaking heart attack. Robert had to stifle his
laughter, to be able to reply sorry bud.
I couldn't help myself. I was up farther on the trail
when I decided to turn back and wait for you.
When I saw you kneeling here, I just couldn't resist.
I couldn't help but smile after that, and I could feel the red
hot feeling in my face, start to drain away.
It's okay. But you did Scare the living.
Hell out of me. I didn't even hear you.
Robert said nothing. He only smiled a wide toothy
grin. I gestured down toward the part
of the trail. Robert came from I was wondering
if you had gotten here yet, you can leave I assume you know the
way Robert nodded in reply then jerked his head back to where
the fork in the trail was before he turned around and bounded
over the stream. That divided the trail.
When his feet, hit the other side of the small Bank, he just
kept on running. Hey, wait up.
I called after him, he acted as if he didn't hear me, and
carried on deeper into the wood. I really wasn't prepared to jog
yet. I wanted to walk a little more
first and stretch out my legs. However, it seemed, I didn't
have a choice and I bounded after Robert hopping over the
stream and pushing myself to catch up with him.
Robert was jogging at an even Pace, but not a quick one and
soon I was just behind him. Can you wait just a second?
I asked, why, what are you afraid of?
He asked turning to me with a wide toothy grin, that seemed to
have not left his face. That question caught me off
guard. What did he mean by that?
Nothing. Just need to stretch a little
more before I pull. Something is all Robert didn't
stop or slow down, he just kept on smiling as he turned his head
back around to Face Forward. You'll be fine.
There's a nice place to rest just after the fork in the
trail. We kept on jogging until we hit
the fork and I followed just behind Robert every step of the
way as we veered off onto the right path.
Shortly after the fork, the Trees of the forest grew denser
and numerous their leaves blotting out, light from the sky
above. Even the path itself started to
become more overgrown as weeds and brush seem to reach out
toward the center of the path, attempting to catch what
sunlight they could. Where before it seemed that the
sounds of the forest were on low volume here, they seem to be on
mute as not even a buzzing of an insect could be heard.
Though, I could attribute the muted sounds of the forest to
not being able to hear them over my heavy breath and stomping
feet. The dense growth could not be
ignored This Trail doesn't seem very well maintained.
Are you sure, you know, where you're going?
I asked Robert still keeping close Pace behind him, though.
My right leg was starting to burn.
Robert didn't answer, but ignored me instead without
slowing down. I stopped and meltdown to rub my
leg. I looked up to see, Robert stop
and turn around to walk back to where I was kneeling.
Sorry, man. I told you, though.
I needed to stretch more. I think I already hurt myself.
Robert just smiled as he leaned on a tree next to me.
Sorry man. I thought you'd be able to make
it. We're not far from a really cool
spot. I just got excited to be out
here with you again. At Robert's words, I couldn't
help but laugh and return a beaming grin back to him.
I had no idea he missed being out here so much.
On top of that, it had been a couple weeks since we had done
anything together, so maybe Robert also just missed hanging
out. I couldn't blame him.
I did too, but growing up, gets in the way.
Don't sweat it, man. I said I really missed this too.
What's the really cool spot you wanted to show me?
Robert's grins seemed to somehow get even bigger.
Okay. Do you remember that wooden
bridge? We found one of the last times
we were out here. It has that really deep stream
running under it. The memory came back to me in a
rush. It was vague but I did remember
finding a bridge. The last time we came out here,
I had completely forgotten which Trail we founded on though, I
remember the water under that bridge was so clear, you could
easily see the fish swimming about within it.
It's on this path. I asked excitedly.
It sure is and I can't wait to take you there.
I've been down there already. It is absolutely beautiful
Roberts said. I stood up quickly and brushed
some dirt off my knee. Well, let's go.
I explained walking forward on the trail.
Okay. But we can walk, I don't want
you to hurt yourself. Robert said I was going to tell
him, I would be fine if we jogged again.
But I thought better of it though.
The excitement that came with the prospect of seeing that
bridge again abated, some of the pain, in my sore leg, it was
still there. So, we walked on talking about
the memories of being out here on the trails as we walked side
by side. Robert was recounting things I
hardly remembered. He said he remembered a time
when I scrapped up my knees, really bad.
After a nasty fall on one of the trails, but I didn't remember
that. For the most part though, I
could recall every memory Robert had and I realized how much time
we really had spent out there. We spent nearly all our time out
here as teenagers. Staying in shape to try to
impress. The girls in school, we had been
walking for nearly five minutes. When Robert said, Hey, do you
remember when you fell down that slope and hit the bottom?
I thought you died? Robert belted out a loud.
Booming, laugh. I stopped walking because
something about what he said, didn't make sense.
I remembered falling down that slope like it was yesterday.
It was terrifying. Robert, you fell down that slope
too. Remember Robert who hadn't
stopped walking until then froze, just ahead of me.
He turned slowly to me and slapped a hand to his forehead.
Oh, duh, yeah, well, I didn't fall as hard as you Robert
laughed again, dropping his head and gesturing back down the
trail. Come on.
We're almost there. I began to breathe heavily and I
took a step back. Something was wrong.
I didn't know what it was but I had to get out of those woods
and away from Robert. Had to get away because a memory
had finally resurfaced to the shore of my recollection.
A memory of me falling and scraping my knees.
Roberts grin for the first time since he snuck up on me faded
from his face. What's wrong, Bud?
He asked a little shaky. I need to go back.
I said a little shaky myself. Robert took a step toward me and
a look of concerned on his face. Come on, man, we're so close.
Why do you want to leave he pleaded because you were home
sick, the day, I scraped my knees, Roberts eyes, wide and
realization as I turned tail and began sprinting in the other
direction as fast as my legs would carry me.
Green leaves and Brown Bark, flashed by, and my peripheral
vision as a blur. The sound of winds swished
around in my earlobes. As I ran I couldn't hear
footsteps behind me, and I was thankful for that. my right leg
throbbed and begged for me to stop, but I wouldn't Fear is one
hell of a motivator. And it pushed me past the fork
in the path and over the small stream, that divided the trail I
never looked back to see if Robert or whatever War.
Robert's skin was following me, not even once.
I kept my eyes on the path in front of me and focused on not
tripping over anything the whole way back out of the trail.
I didn't stop running till I got into my car.
Once inside, I grabbed the keys that I'd left sitting in the
passenger seat and quickly turned them in the ignition.
I paid no attention to the speed limit as I raced all the way
home. once at my house, I grabbed my phone out of the
glove box and ran into the house latched, the deadbolt behind me,
I turned my phone off when I started in my car at The
Preserve, so once I got inside, I turned it on and sat on my
couch while I waited for it to boot up. my plan was to call
Robert immediately, but when the display on the screen flicked
on, I saw I had a text message from Robert I opened it but I
was shaking so bad from the adrenaline.
It was a little hard to read. Hey, man, so it looks like we
can't go out to Forest Glen. I was talking to my neighbor
this morning and he said, they closed it down.
At least four hikers have been found dead by Drowning out
there. I hope this gets to you before
you leave. Maybe we can just catch a movie
or something. When I read the last word of the
text message, there was a loud, knock at my door.
I jumped and stood from my spot on the couch.
The knock came again even louder and I crept over to the door as
quietly as I could look through the peephole.
It was Robert Robert stood on my front stoop with a wide toothy
grin. I saw him raise up his hand to
knock once more and as the sound thundered from the wood of the
door. I backed away on my phone, I
searched my contacts for Robert's name and dialed.
After two rings. Robert picked up.
Hey man. What's up?
Robert asked? Robert, where are you right now?
I asked. Well, I met the store right now.
Do you want? His voice cut out as I hung up
and immediately began dialing. The police, I explained to the
dispatcher that there was an intruder trying to break into my
house, and I did not feel safe. The woman on the other end told
me to remain calm and she would be sending help to my address.
When I hung up with 911, I went to the door once again to look
through the peep hole. The Robert imposter was gone.
When the police arrived, I just told them, someone tried to
break into my house and I came home to find the messing around
with my door before they ran off.
I didn't know what else to say. They said, they would file a
report and send a squad car by every couple of hours that day
to make sure everything was fine.
That was two weeks ago ever since that day late at night,
that thing comes back and knocks on my door in a warped.
Mockery of Robert's voice. It calls to me, let me in it
weighs, let me in. I am, just so lonely.
Come be with me the first time I obviously called the police, and
the time after that, The third time they stopped coming.
That creature is always gone when they get here, but he
always comes back. He's back to night and I can
hear him as I sit on my couch with a bottle of brandy in a
tight grip. On the large butcher knife, I
own Oh, please. Let me in it pleads in a gargled
whale. That sounds nothing like Robert
anymore. I need more friends.
I don't know what the hell is in, Forest Glen National Park,
but it followed me home. I was stretched out on my couch
halfway to drifting off. When a scraping sound pulled me
away. My living room was dark every
light, Switched Off hours ago. So I wasn't sure if I had
imagined the noise. It happened again, a slow faint
scratch, that felt too deliberate to be some random
outside disturbance. I remember thinking how
unnerving that kind of quiet can be.
Like the walls themselves were waiting for something to happen.
Part of me wanted to ignore it Retreat.
Under a blanket and pretend everything was normal but a
stronger part. The part that always has to know
pushed me to get up. I tiptoed past the dark and
hallway toward the sliding glass door in the back.
The glass was foggy from the cool night air.
And for a second, all I saw was my own reflection in the haze.
Then I noticed another shape behind the door.
At first, it looked like a stray dog.
Just standing there Paul raised against the glass.
I reached for the handle hesitating as my mind race,
nobody else should be on my property.
Let alone this late. I squinted through the haze
trying to piece together. What kind of animal would be
scratching at a door in the dead of night and why A flicker of
recognition flooded through me that dog wasn't just any dog.
It had the same coloring the same head tilt.
The same Soulful eyes. I Used to Know by heart, my
breath caught in my throat, everything in my chest Twisted
with the realization that this was Buddy, my dog, my buddy from
three years ago, logic told me buddy couldn't possibly be
standing there but he was gone but there he was tail, wagging
in that Gentle Way as though, we'd never been apart without
thinking, I slid the door, open a part of me was terrified, but
an even bigger part was desperate to believe.
But he stepped inside fur brushing against my leg warm and
soft exactly how I remembered the tears came before I could
stop them. I knelt down pressing my cheek
to his neck. Inhaling that familiar earthy.
Scent. It was as if no time had passed
like we just spent the evening apart and he was back for
another walk. Things, felt almost normal until
morning. That's when the unease sink in.
I set out a bowl of kibble tossed in some leftover steak,
but buddy ignored it entirely. It wasn't picky eater refusal
either, he acted like it didn't even exist.
Hours went by with him, just hovering near the back door,
occasionally letting out a low whimper.
I tried everything called his name offered water, but his
attention stayed fixed on the yard outside.
By the time night rolled around again.
My nerves were frayed. I woke up from a Restless dose
around two in the morning to this raspy almost labored
breathing. I found buddy in the hallway,
staring at me in the dim light. His eyes.
They weren't the same brown anymore, they were dark
reflecting shape. I could have couldn't really
process. And his mouth was moving like he
was whispering words. I stood there heart hammering
two stunned to make sense of what was happening.
The next day I decided to dig out old photo albums partly for
Comfort partly to reassure myself.
I wasn't losing my mind. Flipping through snapshots from
buddies. Last few weeks, I pause on a
photo taken in the yard. I'd never noticed it before, but
just behind buddy in the corner of the frame.
There was some kind of silhouette peeking through the
edge of the woods. A creeping dread crawled over
me. I slammed the album shut.
That night brought a scratching sound of a different kind this
time from under the floorboards. My basement was little more than
a crawl space. So I grabbed a flashlight and a
crowbar. Dust billowed.
As I pried up the wooden panels, I expected maybe a trapped
animal or a broken vent. instead, I found Buddy.
The real buddy. His fur was caked with dirt
ribs, half exposed, pause reduced a bloody tatters.
He looked like, he'd tried to claw his way out from under the
house. I staggered back.
Bile rising in my throat as the realization set in whatever had
returned to my home was not buddy.
A presence loomed behind me. When I turned the Imposter
crouched on the edge of the open floorboards teeth, bared in a
grin that seemed more human than canine.
Its breath. Puffed out in uneven rattling,
gas and those eyes, too. Dark too.
Deep locked onto mine. It spoke voice crackling with an
edge. That didn't belong in any living
creature. I knew.
In those few seconds, I sensed a wrongness.
So profound it made every hair on my body stand on end, I can't
remember making a decision to flee.
My instincts took over sending me scrambling up the stairs
flinging open, every cupboard until I found the gas.
Can I use for my lawn mower? I splashed it all over the
floors, the walls tears, stinging my eyes as I did it.
My vision blurred, but I kept going, kept drenching the place
in fuel. A single strike of a match was
all it took Flames erupted crawling along the walls and
devouring the floor. The thing that wore buddies
form, let out a tortured in human cry, I burst out the front
door coughing on the black smoke that swirled around me.
By the time I stumbled onto the lawn.
The entire house was a flame, the heat roared behind me and
the are reached of burning wood and something far worse.
I collapsed onto the grass, trembling and staring at The
Inferno. My mind was a tangled mess of
regret grief and the faint. Hope that nothing That Hideous
could possibly survive fire, but that hope didn't last long,
because, as I watched the Flames dance, I felt an unshakeable
sense of dread take hold, I destroyed my home yet.
A knowing voice in my head, insisted the nightmare was far
from over. I thought burning the house to
the ground would end the nightmare.
After the fire, I drifted between motel's for a while,
telling the authorities, it was some Fluke, electrical accident.
Until I finally found a small apartment on the second floor of
an old brick building Two Towns over.
It wasn't exactly comforting but I couldn't stand the idea of
another house with a yard. The last thing I wanted was to
see some shape hovering at the back door.
Again, those first few weeks, I busied myself, unpacking,
keeping the TV on at all hours, just to fill the silence.
I double check the locks every night.
Pull the curtains, tight and sit awake until Morning.
Light peeked through Some nights memories of that imposter dog,
its voice croaking about bringing buddy back haunted, my
thoughts. A single question stayed lodged
in my mind. Could Something That Came from
Beneath the floorboards be destroyed by fire.
Sometimes I can convince myself. Yes, other times I couldn't
shake the dread that it was only a matter of time before it
reappeared. Eventually I forced myself back
into a routine, go to work, eat something.
Come home repeat. It felt robotic, but I needed
normalcy. Then around three weeks after I
moved in, I was jolted awake by a faint tapping on the glass.
For a moment I told myself it was nothing maybe a branch
outside or a pigeon perched on the windowsill but the noise.
Persisted Slow rhythmic calculated.
My gut tightened and every Instinct I had screamed to stay
in bed instead, I found myself creeping toward the window.
My apartment sits on the second floor.
Well, above street level, nobody should be out there.
Especially not an animal. I inch the curtain aside Dim
street, light illuminated, the shape of a dog hunched on the
flimsy. Fire escape.
Wet fur, matted its body. And two gleaming eyes locked
with mine. If I hadn't seen this with my
own eyes, I would have called myself crazy.
It lifted a paw as though to waive a moment later, its mouth
stretched into a bizarre grin. Something about that smile made
my hands tremble against the windowsill.
I stumbled back nearly tripping over a chair in my rush to the
bathroom. My heart thudded.
So loudly, I thought it might burst.
I pressed my ear to the door unsure.
If it had followed me inside, nothing just oppressive silence.
Then I noticed something on the floor, a few clumps of damp
dirts, scattered across the tiles, my stomach lurched, how
did that get in here? I took a shaky breath, flicked
on the light and saw it, but he's old collar lying near the
sink. The leather was split stained
with what looked like old dried blood.
I spent the rest of the night crammed in the bathroom Corner,
unable to sleep by morning. I convinced myself I'd had a
stress induced hallucination yet.
When I ventured out every muscle stiff and soar.
I found the dog calmly sitting in my kitchen.
It looked cleaner. Now for a dry and bright.
The creature turned, its head ears up tail.
Wagging in an imitation of normal canine Behavior, For a
second. I allowed myself to imagine it
was the real buddy. Back from the grave.
Eager to greet me like old times.
Then it spoke its voice. Sounded almost gentle a near
whisper, that made my stomach twists.
It said it had come back for me that it was here to stay.
My chest tightened as I took a step back.
The creature stood its nails. Clicking on the tile.
There was a ripping sound when the fur around its front legs
tour. Revealing something like Twisted
fingers beneath They flexed Almost Human in shape but capped
with blackened claw like tips in that moment I wanted to bolt for
the door but it moved impossibly fast blocking my path.
Its eyes bored into mine. The stench of Earth and
something rotten, filled the air a distorted laugh Parts.
Snarl part. Hissing breath escaped.
Its throat. My head spun with the
realization that I had no gasoline here.
No plan, No Escape Route from a second floor apartment.
All I had was raw Terror and a desperate need to survive
somehow adrenaline kicked in, I lunged around it.
Flung the front door open and barreled down the hall.
Way, not caring about the neighbor's or the echo of my
footfalls, my thoughts, blurred with fear memories, and some
Twisted semblance of guilt at I'd ever buried, buddy in the
first place. As I fled, I could practically
sense. It smiling behind me as if sure
I had nowhere left to hide, even now I can't settle the knowledge
at found me. Again, clings to my thoughts.
Every Creak of the building, every Russell outside my window,
sets me on edge. It isn't just a haunting
presence. It's Relentless no matter where
I run, it finds a way in wearing my beloved dog's face.
And as much as I try convincing myself otherwise, I know this
battle is far from over. It all started with the way the
sky turned that yellowish gray color right before the clouds,
open up. I was sitting in our cramped,
living room, listening to the wind rattled the window frames
waiting for my parents to say goodbye before they drove off to
their gig. The house wasn't much more than
some creaky boards glued together with mismatched nails,
and every storm felt like a personal attack on its fragile
structure. My younger brother Eric was at
the kitchen table coloring in some old magazine Pages since we
didn't have real coloring books. The tension in the air made
everything feel off. When my folks finally headed
out, I watched from the screen door as their beat up, sedan
disappeared along the rain, slick, dirt road.
The plan was for Eric and me to camp out in the living room.
Maybe watch an old VHS tape if the power didn't conquer out.
Instead I just pasted around the tiny space eyes darting to the
windows. Every time, the Wind, made them
shutter. The storm was getting worse by
the minute. Fat, drops pounding, the roof
thunder rolling through the valley like distant explosions.
I decided to check on moose, our so-called guard dog.
He was more lanky than intimidating and my dad had tied
him to a rusted engine block on the screened porch.
It wasn't pretty, but it kept him from wandering off. moose
was usually pretty mellow spending his days flopped on the
porch, only barking at random Shadows now and then Tonight
though the wind had him shifting around ears back tail.
Tucked the second I opened the porch door to see if he was
okay. It nearly blew off its hinges.
Letting in August of wet air that chilled the entire front
hall. Moose perked up, probably
wondering if I was taking him inside, but my dad never allowed
that. Before I could check the knots
on his chain. The wind slammed again this time
the front door's flimsy latch gave way and it wrenched
completely loose from the frame. It felt like a giant had peeled
it back, just for fun. Moose freaked out and jerked
against the chain which scraped along the concrete floor of the
porch with a shrill metallic sound.
By the time I turned around, he was already lunging outside
trailing that chain behind him. The sight of our only Watchdog
bolting into a raging Storm, sent a jolt of panic straight
through my gut. I slammed a foot against the
door. What was left of it anyway?
Just to keep more rain from rushing in?
Eric eyes wide stood in the hallway.
His little hands clenched in fear.
I had this moment of indecision should I chase mousse should I
stay inside and hope he came back.
My parents would never believed, I'd done everything, I could, if
that dog went missing and Eric was too young to help.
So I told him to stay put and not open any doors.
No matter what. We didn't have a real lock to
secure the front. Just a rusty hook latch that
hung crooked from the wood, but it was the best we could do.
I grabbed my father's, giant rubber boots from the corner,
They nearly swallowed my legs but they were the only
protection I had from the ankle deep water forming outside.
No flash light in sight either. I forgot in the rush or I was
too rattled to think straight. The wind roared like it was
daring me to come out. And I did.
The rain hit me so hard. It might as well have been hail.
It felt like the storm was trying to drive me back into the
house but I forced my way across the yard yelling moose's name, a
flash of lightning revealed a quick glimpse of him.
Scrambling down the back, slope heading for the creek.
That Creek was already more of a raging stream from the downpour
and our makeshift Bridge was basically two planks set across
the bank. I let out a shaky breath, not
that it helped and charged after him.
Mud sucked at my boots with each step and thunder.
Pounded overhead. I could see branches flailing
the trees bent at unnatural angles.
Everything looked like it might snap at any second.
Despite the Roaring wind I managed to pick out the scrape
of Moose's chain. It guided me like a beacon
though. It was faint and easily drowned
out by each Thunderclap. I lost track of time, stomping
through the yard. Maybe it was a minute, maybe 10.
Finally, I reached the creek, just as another Jagged of
lightning streaked across the sky.
The old planks were slick and crooked but I had no choice.
I gingerly stepped on the wood. Praying.
I wouldn't slip into the Raging Water.
For a split second. I glanced behind me toward the
house. The dim glow from our living
room. Window was barely visible
through the Sheets of Rain. I wished I could turn around and
retreat, but Moose was out there alone and that thought twisted
my stomach. So I pushed on crossing the
bridge in two large strides boots.
Squelching loudly the sound of Moose's chain seemed further up
toward the mountain. The slope beyond the creek was a
tangle of Briars and Soggy leaves and it didn't help that
Darkness clung to every inch of the forest.
One misstep. And I'd be sliding down into the
water or worse. Still, it was better than going
home empty-handed to face my father's Wrath.
I took a deep breath forcing myself to keep moving.
Overhead Thunder boomed again, so powerful at rattled my ribs,
the forest ahead swayed as if alive full of Silhouettes
shifting against each other, something about it felt
unnatural like it was quietly waiting for me.
Biting its time. My pulse hammered away and my
thoughts. Spun with every possible bad
scenario. All I knew was moose was out
there and I had to find him before.
Something else did I gritted my teeth hands, shaking and started
up the slope. If I were lucky, moose was just
around the bend. Maybe Tangled in a bush.
If not, Well, I tried not to think about that.
Either way, there was no going back.
I trudged forward the Roar of the storm, making every step
feel like I was venturing deeper into another world.
The creek was just behind me, it's water.
Raging loud enough to drown out almost everything else.
I had crossed on those slippery planks heart pounding in my
ears. So it took me a second to
realize that Moose's chain had gone quiet.
The silence felt wrong somehow. Even with the rain pounding
leaves in the Thunder crashing above, I had this deep sense
that something out here was holding its breath.
I kept calling moose's name. My voice ragged a flash of
lightning lit, the trees for an instant revealing.
The chaos of the forest floor, Tangled undergrowth, small
streams of runoff, winding between Boulders and everything
slicked with water No sign of moose.
I pushed on boots, squelching and Ankle, deep mud, the wind
whistled between branches. Almost like it was whispering
warnings. I couldn't quite understand
after another minute of struggling uphill, that's smell.
Hit me. It was a stench so foul my
throat seized in protest like rotting meat, left out in the
summer heat. I had come across dead animals
before out in the Appalachian Wilderness, but this was
different. It was Stronger like a carcass
that had been there a week or more oozing and attracting flies
except I couldn't hear any flies.
Just the thumping of the storm around me.
Whatever it was, it made me want to turn around and run but I
forced myself to keep going. If moose had gotten hurt or
Tangled somewhere, I couldn't leave him.
My eyes watered from the vial odor and the mud sucked it at
each. Step a branch snapped overhead.
Making me jump like something had stepped on it.
I whipped around, but all I saw was the black swirl of the
forest and the downpour I tried to swallow back the dread and
called out again moose My voice came out.
Sounding desperate bouncing off wet, trunks.
The Thunder grumbled. Its response.
No chainsaw sounds. No winding dog.
Nothing lightning flashed once more.
Cutting, the darkness for maybe half a second.
In that brief light, I spotted something pale on the ground, a
few yards away. My stomach churned, as I took a
cautious, Step Closer. It looked like an animal's, rib
cage, possibly, a deer's picked clean to the Bone.
The edges were dark and ragged as if something had nod on them.
Rainwater and muds slicked, The Remains, making the bones gleam
on naturally. I felt a wave of nausea but
Terror kept me from throwing up. The wind gusted hard and the
leaves overhead. Thrashed as the Furious, I was
still there. I realized the smell might be
coming from that carcass, but it felt like there was more to it
like something else was in the are Beyond just death.
Something old and malevolent. Then lightning illuminated the
area once again, but this time I noticed that certain patches of
the forest were not lighting up at all.
It was as if a section of the trees had been painted with ink.
So black, the light refused to touch it.
I blinked trying to clear rainwater for my eyes, certain
it had to be a trick of Shadows. except it stayed there, a dense
void where Tree Trunks and undergrowth should have been
Suddenly, I heard a barking Frenzy.
My head snapped to the right and in the dims stuttering light
mousse, bounded into view chain, clattering on rocks.
He was soaked and wild-eyed barking at that patch of
Darkness. I yelled his name again, voice
cracking and relief. He kept barking the chain
tangling around his legs as he inched closer to the void.
Every Instinct in me, screamed to keep him away from whatever
that was. I stumbled forward arms flailing
for balance and managed to snatch the chain, just before he
lunged. Moose's, hackles were raised and
a low growl rattled in his throat.
The Barking stopped abruptly as if he realized we were both in
serious Danger. Then a low Rumble echoed from
higher up, the slope, a sound deeper than any animal lighting.
Countered. It felt like it vibrated through
my ribs. So heavy I nearly lost my
balance in the mud. That was enough for both of us.
I yanked moose back and we started downhill calling it.
A retreat would be an understatement.
It was a panic scramble. The ground seemed determined to
keep us there slipping under my feet.
Every time lightning revealed, tree limbs we jerked around them
half expecting something massive to burst through the brush.
Moose fought the chain in Terror, but for once he and I
were on the same page, we needed to get out of there and fast.
The Descent was a blur of snapping twigs and Thorns.
Slicing at my arms, rain plastered my hair to my face.
Forcing me to wipe my eyes constantly.
I barely kept track of Moose's chain in my hand.
A flash of lightning was followed by the biggest boom of
Thunder I'd heard all night it rattled the leaves off nearby
branches, the steep slope made me feel like I was skiing on wet
leaves. My boots slipped and I nearly
fell face first into the muck behind me a loud.
Crash echoed like a gigantic Branch broke onto tremendous
weight. Maybe it was just the wind or
maybe it was, whatever made that growl I didn't even want to look
back. The only thing that mattered was
getting moose in me across that Creek, and back to the house.
When I finally spotted the creek below, lightning flickered
again. For a split second, I swear, I
Glimpse to tall vaguely distorted shape higher up on the
slope. The very air around, it seemed
to bend. I squeezed Moose's chain
practically dragging him the last few yards.
The planks that served as our Bridge looked even more rickety
now have submerged by the swollen water.
With no real plan. I splashed across water.
Sloshing into my boots. Moose left beside me, spattering
mud everywhere, another vicious gust, hammered the trees and I
heard a crunch of wood. My imagination or maybe not
conjured the idea that something huge was only a dozen yards
behind us, snapping branches in its path.
I didn't wait to confirm. Mousse.
And I stumbled back into what was left of our yard, the faint
glow from the house is window like a beacon, my legs burned
with exhaustion and my lungs. Stung from breathing so hard,
the Storm still raged, but as awful as it was, it felt safer
than what ever, lurked deeper in the forest.
The door had swung shut behind me when I left and I could see.
Eric small face pressed to the glass eyes large.
He was waiting probably terrified mousse and I darted up
the muddy slope to the porch. I nearly collapsed onto the door
fumbling to get it. Open my hands shook so badly.
I could barely work the latch Finally, it gave and we toppled
inside. I slam the door behind us
though. There wasn't much left of it to
bolt rain dripped from my clothes in a steady Trail.
Moose shook himself, spraying water all over.
Still breathing hard, I pressed my ear to the door, half
expecting something to Slam against it, but all I heard was
the storm. Raging outside, Eric stood by
the dim, lamp on the side table. Looking so small that my heart
hurt to see him, he opened his mouth to ask a question, maybe
about what happened out there, but I just raised a hand still
gasping. There was nothing I could say.
That would make sense not yet. Instead, I walked over to the
window. Part of the threadbare curtain,
a fraction and looked out into the darkness.
My eyes strained to spot any movement or shape the rain.
Blurred everything into a shifting mess of Shadows yet.
I couldn't shake the idea that something was still out there
watching listening waiting. In that moment, the storm
outside no longer felt like the biggest threat.
Something else was lurking in the Appalachian Mountains that
night and I had come terrifyingly close to it.
I had no clue what it was or how it had stayed hidden.
All I knew was that we'd barely gotten away and I didn't want to
test our luck twice by morning. I was running on fumes.
I'd spent most of the night in the living room fighting the
urge to fall asleep. Eric dosed in a chair with moose
curled At His Feet. A rare moment of calm for that
dog who was still damp from our Sprint through the storm?
The rain finally started letting up its sunrise and it gave me
just enough courage to crack. Open the busted door and peer
out. The yard looked waterlogged, and
torn up like a battleground of mud and broken branches before.
I could decide whether to investigate the creek, my
parents barged in complaining about the warped door.
My dad wearing an old denim jacket spotted with rain took
one glance at the wood we'd rigged as a latch and muttered.
Something about laozi craftsmanship before turning on
me. He wanted to know why, the door
was off at its frame. Why?
Everything smelled like wet, dog.
And what had happened during the night?
My explanation came out rushed and jumbled, moose ran off.
I chased him. The storm was insane, something
in the woods. He cut me off with a wave of his
hand. The expression on his face said
he was in no mood for what he believed were, wild stories.
He turned around and stomped out the door, grumbling that he
checked for any real damage and see if any punks messed with our
stuff. My mother followed giving me a
tired, look that hovered between concern and annoyance.
I stood there Knuckles sore from gripping, Moose's chains.
So tight the night before. A part of me wanted to just let
my dad go, but my gut told me, I should see what he found at the
creek. The memory of that snarling
sound, the rotten smell and the impossible Darkness clung to my
mind like a stain. Eric stayed inside to calm
mousse while I stepped out into the dreary morning rain, still
dripped from the gnarled trees overhead.
The sky was a dull gray that made everything look washed out
except for scattered piles of shattered would leading toward
the creek. I followed the splinters my
boots sliding and patches of thick mud.
My parents were already ahead picking their way down the
slope, the bridge or what was left of it.
Looked like something had crushed and shredded it
overnight. Chunks of rotted plank in the
swollen water and Jagged Spike's stuck up at odd angles.
My dad crouched on the muddy Bank, running his hand, over a
broken piece. His lips tightened in anger.
Kids with no respect. He said under his breath,
though, he didn't explain how any kid.
Could have snapped boards in such a Savage way.
My mom glanced over at me. Her eyebrows raised.
She hadn't said much since we got here, just stared at the
destruction with a pale face. I could see the gears turning in
her head trying to reconcile this with the idea of some
troublemakers running around in the rain, it didn't fit.
And I think she knew it, but she wasn't about to admit it out
loud. The smell of Decay had faded
somewhat replaced by the Dank odor of mourning, fog and wet
Earth. But I couldn't shake the memory
of it. I shuffled closer to the water
scanning the opposite Bank. The forest Beyond seemed calm,
just dripping leaves in the faint, Babel of the creek.
In broad daylight, there was no sign of that strange void or the
presence I sensed before. It was like the mountain had
returned to its usual self. Just another stretch of
Appalachians brimming with wild kritters and tall trees.
My dad grabbed a loose Plank and threw it aside.
He gestured for me to come over and pointed at a deep scratches
along the wood teeth marks. He snapped, as though, I was the
expert. The edges were Jagged as if
something had nod or torn at the plank with an unbelievable
Force. He shook his head beavers, may
be, he mumbled the white never heard of beavers large enough to
snap a thick board and one bite. He stood up, rubbing his hands
on his jacket. Looking over the muddy mess,
I'll have to fix this. He said, then shot me a glare.
Next time, keep that dog under control.
We can't afford to replace everything he tears up.
I wanted to argue to tell him it wasn't moose, but I could
already see the disbelief in his eyes.
He'd made up his mind that local hoodlums or some oversized.
Animal caused. All the chaos.
We made our way back toward the house.
My dad muttering plans to gather more wood and reinforce the
place. My mom Trails behind him arms
crossed. I suspected, she had questions
about what really happened, but she stayed quiet.
I had a bunch of questions myself, and none of them had
good answers inside. Eric was petting moose who
seemed exhausted, like he had no fight left.
The dog wouldn't even look at the door and every time August
of wind shook the house, he pressed himself tighter against
Eric's legs. My parents wanted breakfast and
coffee so they shoot us out of the kitchen.
We ended up back in the living room, facing the window that
gave a perfect view of the yard and the dripping Woods Beyond
Eric whispered. Was it a bear?
I shook my head, not sure how to respond.
A bear might tear up a plank, sure.
But the snarl heard on the slope wasn't quite animal.
I thought about telling him everything, the black void, the
smell, the mangled carcass I saw, but I couldn't bring myself
to terrify him even more. We'd barely slept as it was.
The day rolled on dull and gloomy with my parents hauling
tools out to patch up the front door.
I stood in the yard eyes drifting toward the tree line in
normal. Whether it was just a typical
patch of forest crowded with Ferns and oak trees.
Occasional deer tracks. Now I pictured the Twisted
remains of the bridge and that unnatural Darkness hidden
somewhere up the slope waiting for another storm or another
unwary Wanderer. My mom called me to help with
the door. So I wandered back and hammered
Nails where my dad pointed trying not to think about the
place beyond the creek. It felt like just a few short
hours ago. We've been running for our lives
certain that something monstrous was on our heels.
But with the daylight creeping in, nobody wanted to mention it.
Nobody wanted to believe anything.
Unexplainable lurked, this close to our house.
Eventually when the door was half fixed, my parents turned
their attention to the yard and started ranting about Muddy
Footprints. And The Battered porch The
tension in the house was like a tightening knot.
Nobody felt safe but we all pretended.
It was just a typical morning after a storm.
I retreated to my room for a bit peeling off the filthy clothes,
I still had on part of me wanted to ask if we could leave even
for a day go stay with someone else until the weather cleared.
But we barely had enough gas money, to get my parents to
their gig, they were not about to up in vacate the house
because of one scary night. I kept glancing out my window
half expecting a sudden movement near, the Treeline.
Nothing showed just water dripping from branches and
leftover fog hugging the base of the mountains.
Under a normal Sky, it might even look serene.
But I had seen what the Knight could hide my heart.
Thudded. Every time I remembered that
rumbling growl echoing through the storm.
The next few hours dragged on, Eric tried to call Moose with
bits of food, but the dog wouldn't leave his side.
My parents acted like, the real villain was the wind, or maybe
some vandals who chose in the worst weather possible to play
pranks. Nobody acknowledged that the
broken bridge splintered into fragments was too extreme for a
casual prank. Nobody wanted to confront the
idea that something Beyond ordinary had trampled those
planks into matchsticks. Once the evening arrived a sick
feeling settled in my stomach. The sky was clearing Stars,
beginning to peek out. Normally, I'd be relieved to see
no more rain. But a clear night meant every
dark corner of the forest. Stood out in sharp detail.
I caught myself scanning the window, again, searching the
edges for any shape. That didn't belong.
There was no sign of that Darkness or the stench of Decay
yet, I couldn't convince myself. It was truly gone.
The Appalachians had plenty of hidden Corners, caves and
Hollows were something could live without being disturbed.
Maybe it only came out in storms or maybe we'd simply stumbled
upon its territory at the wrong moment.
I hated not knowing. I helped Eric settle in for the
night keeping moose next to us. We sat on the Warren couch,
lights off just quietly, looking at the window.
Sometimes you can feel safer in the dark if you think nothing
can see you. Yet.
I was aware of everything, every Creak in the rafters, every gust
of wind outside. A branch scraped the roof.
And I nearly jumped. But no, monstrous Shadow loomed
at the window. No chain rattling.
Chase played out in the yard when my parents finally turned
in the house, fell into an uneasy silence.
Eric drifted to sleep, eventually, arms wrapped around
moose, like a security blanket. I sat there staring past their
forms at the night beyond the window gripping.
The couch, cushions, until my fingers hurt, the Moonlight made
the tree line visible. Turning the shapes of trunks and
Tangled branches into black silhouettes.
Part of me tried to believe nothing was out there but it was
a hollow belief. Somewhere in those mountains.
Something was waiting, something I'd practically run headlong
into when chasing moose. Something that snapped planks
left bones in the mud and made a sound that shook the ground,
like a tremor. I just prayed it wasn't peering
back this way, remembering my scent.
The idea sent my heart rattling in my chest.
And so I sat through the night Wide Awake, glancing at the
window, every time a breeze stirred, a branch.
If the thing from the storm decided to come back, I knew our
patched up door, wouldn't be enough to keep it out, but all I
could do was cling to hope that daylight would keep it at Bay
that maybe this horror was finished with us or at least
satisfied enough to leave us alone for a while longer.
After hearing all the stories on here, I wanted to write down my
own experience. That still freaks me out
whenever I think about it. Just down the road from where I
used to live a few years ago. In southeast Australia.
There's an opening that leads into about 100 acres of
woodlands and Bush. I frequently went there when I
was younger to ride camp and do the usual outdoorsy things.
One night around 11:30 p.m. I was out driving with my
girlfriend. Since we were in the area, I
decided to show her the Woodlands.
She loves everything related to Nature and because it was
summer, the night was extremely warm.
I parked my car so the headlights were shining into the
trees as we weren't planting to go very far and it was Pitch
Black inside. We both sat there, chatting
having a smoke and generally relaxing.
She was sitting on a sort of plastic covered map of the area
and I kept watching the trees because I had a strong feeling
that something wasn't right? I've read posts where people
mentioned feeling like they were in danger, even though nothing
around them seemed out of place and I had that exact same
feeling. Every sense was on high alert
and my adrenaline was up yet. I couldn't see anything unusual
in front of me. After lighting another cigarette
to calm my nerves, I scan the tree line again and realized it
looked different than before. It took a moment of staring into
the dark. To notice that Moonlight was now
hitting some grass where there had previously been a black
shape blocking the light A shape I had assumed was just a tree.
I get goosebumps just typing this, but the only way to
describe the next moment is that all sounds suddenly ceased
leaving. Everything Dead Silence.
A few seconds later a horrible feeling of dread washed over me.
I saw something move in the dark along the path.
It was crawling toward us on all fours.
I've seen nearly every animal in the outback and we don't have
large Predators like they do in the US or Europe.
But I somehow knew this thing was a predator.
It wasn't hiding. It was deliberately crawling
toward us. I don't know if my girlfriend
saw it at first, because I couldn't look away.
As soon as it reached the edge of the car's headlights, it rose
up onto two legs and just stared at us.
I'm six foot four and this thing was about a metre taller than me
with arms far too long almost reaching the ground.
Its fur looked off white almost yellowish And in the dim light
its head, resembled that of a dog or a wolf.
I couldn't move while it stared at me, but then, my girlfriend
gasped, snapping me, out of whatever was preventing me from
thinking straight. I grabbed her arm sprinted, to
the car, slam the doors, and sped away as fast as I could.
We were both too terrified to speak until a good half-hour
later. We've discussed it many times
since then, the feeling we had was like, what?
I imagined a rabbit feels when it sees a wolf or Fox watching
it. The realization that this
creature could end us with absolute ease.
If it chose to neither of us has been able to explain what we saw
but it definitely changed how I view the woods and Bush. now
whenever I go camping or hiking, I think back to that night and
wonder what it was and if I'll ever see something like it
again, this is a true encounter and one of the creepier
experiences I've had and trust me, I've had plenty I stumbled
across this sub recently. So I thought I'd share my story
here and see if anyone has had similar experiences anywhere in
the US, back in the summer of 2017.
My girlfriend and I were driving up from Evanston Illinois to
spend the weekend at her parents Lakefront Cottage in Petoskey.
Michigan, a popular destination for summer.
Retreats the drive was about six hours, taking us, North through
the Western half of Michigan. Much of this route goes through,
fairly remote areas eventually. We realized we'd been on the
same single Lane Highway through dense Woods for what felt like,
at least 45 minutes. I remember our navigation
showing, we were somewhere in the Huron Manistee national
forests. When I say dents, I mean the
tree canopy formed a tunnel over the narrow road making it seem
significantly darker than it actually was outside.
Luckily, Michigan summer days are long and we still had a
couple of hours of daylight left.
While driving, I noticed some older dilapidated structures in
the woods on the right looked like remains of old sheds or
storage buildings. This is a good time to mention
that. I'm a bit of a treasure hunter.
I collect historical relics in old coins.
These ruins seemed like a great place to dig up artifacts.
That might have been buried for Years.
Also, this stretch of road was deserted so it was unlikely.
Anyone else had explored the site recently?
Luckily I had my metal detector in the car.
I plan to use it on the beach at Petoskey.
I also had a child shovel one of those with a neon plastic scoop
and a wooden handle for digging in sand.
It was an ideal for soil, but I figured it would do.
I told my girlfriend, I wanted to stop for a bit and pulled
over onto the shoulder. She said, okay, but preferred to
stay in the car and continue napping.
The closest ruins were small and not too far from the road, but I
noticed a larger structure deeper in the forest and decided
to check it out because bigger building's homes, Etc, 10 to
yield cooler. Fine.
When I got closer, I saw it was made of brick the window.
Opening were still clearly defined with dirty broken glass
around the edges. Peering through one window.
I could see that all though. Half of the building had
collapsed part of the floor was still intact.
I could just barely see my car from there because it was so
dark around the ruins. I left my shovel outside.
I wouldn't need it on the building's hard floor and used
my free hand to hold up. My phone as a flashlight to spot
anything metallic. I snooped around one corner and
swept the metal detector around the interior.
The roof was collapsed for about half an hour.
Then I started hearing movement around me crunching twigs and
rustling bushes at first. I dismissed it as small animals
but it continued almost as though it was following my
movements around the building's perimeter.
At that point, the hairs on the back of my neck, stood up.
I got the distinct feeling. I was being watched, like, some
animal was stalking me. I decided to turn back.
I shouted and made loud noises in hopes of scaring off.
Whatever was there? Then cautiously headed to where
I had left my shovel. It was gone.
I was certain I hadn't missed it.
Being neon orange. It would have been impossible to
miss if it were still there in the open.
That was enough to Spook me, I said screw it and booked it back
to my car. When I jumped into the driver's
seat, I saw my girlfriend was awake and looked alarmed.
She told me that just a few minutes earlier.
She'd seen a child emerge from the forest and stare at her from
several feet down the road. She described him as a boy of
maybe seven or eight with a dirty face and ragged clothes.
You said she was worried, the boy might be lost, but the way
he looked at her made her uneasy She mentioned, he didn't seem
scared or curious but just stared with a gaze that seemed
off for a lost child. She also said she wanted to
notify the police but wasn't comfortable leaving the car or
calling out to the kid who had disappeared by then.
I hadn't yet told her about what happened by the ruins, but my
heart started pounding. While I was looking up the
non-emergency number for the nearest sheriff's office, on my
phone, my girlfriend suddenly screamed, my name.
I looked up to see a boy similar to the one, she described
standing at the edge of the woods, just a few feet from the
passenger door staring directly at us.
Then I noticed another boy identical in appearance right,
outside the back window peering into the backseat.
That was it for me. I turned on the car in Florida
out of there. After driving for a few seconds,
I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the boys disappear into
the forest as quickly as they'd appeared.
I sped for, who knows? How long until we were well,
clear of those woods. We ended up calling the
sheriff's office and they mentioned.
There had been similar sightings of children along that stretch
of road by other drivers. Though, I never got a very good
look. I agreed with my girlfriend that
something was off about those kids, their behavior didn't
match that of normal lost children.
Maybe they lived on a secluded property and were just playing
in the woods or trying to steal our stuff.
I've heard of feral children, which might explain their dirty
faces and ragged clothes. Later at the cottage.
I Googled similar paranormal, sightings Apparently melonheadz
a band of feral children with enlarged.
Heads have been spotted in Michigan's forests, only a
couple of hours from where we were.
They might also have been black eyed kids, although, when I
asked my girlfriend, if she noticed black eyes, she said she
was sure the boys eyes were not black.
She would have remembered that. Still his mannerisms as she
described them. Sounded eerily similar to
stories. I've read about BK's black eyed
kids. So what's a possibility?
If anyone has insight into this or has had similar experiences,
I'd love to hear about it. The whole thing still creeps me
out to this day and on our trip home from Petoskey.
We ended up taking a completely different route just to avoid
going through those woods again. I remember how the gravel road
seemed to stretch on forever that evening, the sky tinted
with the kind of murky orange that shows up right before night
swallows the last bit of daylight.
I was crammed and Uncle Grand's old SUV with Aunt Beverly and my
cousin Jeff. All of us worn out from the long
drive. We were heading to this
supposedly cozy cabin near a lake in Northwestern
Pennsylvania for my cousin's wedding weekend.
Everyone acted excited, but there was this, electric tension
in the air that I couldn't quite place.
When we finally turned off the main road and reached the
property, I got this weird sensation in my stomach, the
cabin looked older than any photos we'd seen online.
It's Port slanted at an angle and the wooden steps creaked
under our feet. Something about the way.
The trees surrounded. The clearing made me feel like
we were being watched naturally. I told myself it was just
exhaustion. Aunt Beverly teased me saying, I
was always looking for spooky thrills.
I tried to laugh it off, but I caught myself checking over my
shoulder more than once. Inside the place, had this stale
odor. That reminded me of Forgotten
storage rooms. Each floorboard grown whenever
someone shifted weight. The walls were practically bare
except for a few faded pictures of the lake pinned up here and
there. When I flicked, the overhead
light, it flickered ominously before.
Settling into a weak glow, Uncle Grant declared it Charming,
meanwhile, I found myself, eyeing odd, scratches on the
front door, long, Jagged marks, that didn't look like normal
wear. I pointed them out and he
Shrugged said something about a previous tenants, dog, but it
didn't feel right. We set about on packing a few
groceries, the fridge rattled, like it might give up at any
second. Some insects scurried across the
counter Vanishing, under a faded dish towel.
I jumped back feeling my skin crawl but Jeff just laughed and
handed me a paper towel to shoo them away.
I tried to stay calm though. Every clink and squeak in that
house. Made me more on edge.
The wind began to pick up and the windows rattled almost like
an unseen hand, was testing them from the outside.
After a quick dinner, we all headed for bed, but I wasn't
sure if I'd sleep at all. Uncle Grant stayed up to watch a
late show on TV muttering about wanting to smoke a last
cigarette. I fell into a Restless dose.
On the living room, couch, with the sound of crickets outside
blending, into the home of the old TV.
Sometime passed before I noticed, Uncle Grant quietly
slipping out, the front door. I pulled a blanket over my
shoulders, trying to drift off again.
I must have dozed because the next thing I knew Uncle Grant
was back inside locking up with more Gusto than usual.
He whispered my name and I sat up feeling my pulse thrum harder
than it should he said he'd heard this loud banging like
someone was smashing a sheet of metal in the distance over and
over but with no rhythm or explanation.
No crunch of leaves, no voices, nothing else.
Just those jarring metallic thuds echoing around the woods.
I wanted to tell him it was just old pipes clanging or maybe
random Machinery from a nearby property but even I didn't
believe myself. The way he looked eyes darting
from window to window, made it impossible to dismiss outright.
I tried to be the steady one telling him, not to worry that
it was probably nothing. Still every nerve in my body was
jumping convinced. Something about this house and
the land around, it was off He headed to his room and I was
left alone in the dimly-lit living area.
The television buzzed quietly, its glow flickering on the wall.
Every so often the floor would make a snapping noise as those
someone was pacing in the hallway.
I squeezed my eyes. Shut willing, myself to think of
anything else. I didn't get much rest.
Maybe I was waiting for the banging to start again or half
expecting to hear a knock at the door.
When I did manage to drift off, I dreamed about Silhouettes
lurking among the trees. They're outlines barely visible.
By the time morning rolled around my nerves were shot and
we still had another night to endure in that place.
I told myself I was being paranoid that.
Everything I felt was just tension from the long trip.
But deep down I suspected there was more to it.
Something I couldn't quite identify yet.
Couldn't ignore. Sunlight streamed Through the
Windows way too early for my liking.
I'd hardly slept and I was still on edge from the strange.
Banging Uncle Grant had heard the night before.
We all trudged into the kitchen for breakfast quietly, picking
at toast and eggs. Nobody wanted to be the first to
admit. How tense things felt.
Aunt. Beverly tried joking about the
crazy raccoons that must have been making a racket outside.
Jeff, chimed in with something sarcastic about Bigfoot, but
Uncle Grandpa kept glancing out the window, like he was
expecting something to be lurking, just beyond the tree
line. I decided I needed fresh air
even though the atmosphere outside felt just as heavy.
As I stepped off the porch, the morning, chill hit me.
And I caught sight of the ground near the car.
There were these odd impressions in the mud bigger than my
footprints. Definitely not shaped like any
tracks, I'd recognize. The outline looked elongated
maybe even distorted with a few weird indentations that reminded
me of claws. It didn't look like a bear or
any dog, I'd come across. I knelt down pressing my hand,
near one of them for size comparison and a wave of unease
stirred in me again. My mind was racing with rational
explanations. Maybe the ground had just eroded
weirdly or some animals pause had slipped in the rain.
Still, it felt off. I stood there a moment debating
whether to share it with the others.
Eventually I settled on keeping it to myself.
I didn't want to add to the tension that was already hanging
over us. We spent most of the afternoon
in a flurry of wedding activities.
It should have been a nice Escape, but every time I
glanced, It uncle Grant. I could tell the previous night
was still bugging him. And Beverly kept trying to
lighten the mood, but it never really stuck.
The ceremony went fine. People were laughing, sipping,
champagne and talking about the newlyweds.
If someone noticed our Restless energy, they were polite enough.
Not to mention it. By the time we got back to the
cabin. I was physically exhausted, yet.
Oddly wired. Aunt Beverly and Jeff went
straight to their rooms complaining about the long day.
While Uncle Grant plopped onto the couch flicking the TV on for
some background noise. I stood by the window
half-heartedly checking out my reflection.
My mind wouldn't let go of those footprints in the mud.
Eventually, I gathered enough courage to step outside.
I told myself, I just needed a moment alone that I was blowing
everything out of proportion. The back porch, light was weak
and flickered. Like it might go out at any
second. The trees formed a dark outline
against the sky and the distant Lake shimmered faintly.
For a moment. I actually felt a hint of calm
like maybe we were all just tired and spooked over nothing.
Then a voice. Cut through the Stillness,
Calling My Name loud urgent. And sounding exactly like Uncle
Grandpa. The tone was forceful coming
from the direction of the front yard.
My heart, thumped painfully. And I nearly stumbled over my
feet. It made no sense.
Uncle Grant was inside. On the couch, I hadn't heard the
front door open hadn't seen any movement near the porch.
Yet there it was calling for me again.
The Emptiness around the cabin seemed to intensify as though.
Everything else had stopped to listen.
I practically left for the back door, throwing it open and
racing into the living room. Uncle Grant was there half
asleep remote in hand? The TV drone, some late night
program, and he blinked and confusion.
When I rushed, in my words, came out too quickly.
Were you outside? Did you just yell for me?
He just stared blankly shaking his head.
I stood there trying to steady my breathing.
There was no possible way. He could have been outside
yelling my name and then back in front of the TV in a matter of
seconds. I wanted a reasonable
explanation but my mind kept circling back to those
Footprints the banging, the oppressive feeling Something
about this place was off, no matter how skeptical.
I claimed to be uncle Grant insisted, he hadn't even moved
from the couch. I was left with that Eerie echo
of my own name, still rattling around in my thoughts.
I couldn't sleep. I tried lying down, but every
little Creek in the house, had me, sitting up.
Half expecting to hear the voice again?
The air inside felt stifling and I kept replaying the entire day
in my head, the footprints, the shifting tension at breakfast
that moment outside when I could have sworn, I heard on Uncle
Grandpa. Hours, dragged on, and I barely
drifted off. Before Dawn, light started
creeping through the old curtains.
Looking back. I almost wish it had just been a
prank. Some elaborate joke to scare me.
But the fear stirring inside me was too tangible for that.
Something about the cabin and whatever lurked around.
It wasn't content to let us enjoy.
Our stay in peace. And deep down, I already knew
the worst part. We still had another morning to
face in this place. Morning arrived with a gray
overcast light, spilling into the living room.
I could tell my eyes were puffy from hardly sleeping.
Everyone else looked worn out, too.
Uncle Grant looked as though, he'd been pacing all night. his
shoulders tight, his knuckles white, as he clutched, a mug of
cold coffee Aunt Beverly and Jeff were uncharacteristically
quiet. Practically tiptoeing around the
cabin. Like they didn't want to set
something off. The entire mood was suffocating
and I just wanted to be gone. I decided to head out and check
around before we packed up. Maybe there was some logical
explanation waiting out there. Something to rationalize this
cloth for phobic anxiety. That's one.
I noticed the side of the porch railing.
Deep gouges marred. The wood Jagged edges.
Splintered outward They seem too deliberate to be wind damage or
an animal trying to claw its way up.
Something about them, felt purposeful like a wordless
warning. I almost called out for Uncle
Grand, but stopped myself, remembering how bizarre The
Voice had been the night before. In Stead, I stepped closer.
My stomach churning each scratch varied in length and I could
almost swear some had an odd shape like crude symbols,
nothing I recognized but clearly not random.
It looked fresh with wood, shaving still hanging from the
grooves that sent my pulse racing in a way.
I couldn't deny. Scrambling back inside.
I found Uncle Grand. Stuffing clothes into his
suitcase. The moment, I mentioned fresh
damage on the railing. He froze.
Then wordlessly, he resumed tossing, things into bags, not
bothering to fold or organize. It was clear we all agreed on
one thing we needed to leave. As soon as possible there was no
more half joking or rationalizing the rush to pack
felt frantic doors slammed suitcases, thumped against the
wall. Jeff tripped over astray
extension cord and let out a string of curses that shattered.
The quiet. Aunt Beverly, hastily grabbed
leftover, groceries, practically sprinting to the car, every slam
of a trunk, or click of a door, lock seemed too loud.
Echoing in the Halo morning are, I helped load everything
glancing at the perimeter of trees surrounding the property.
Convinced something was peering out from behind the thick
trunks. A Brisk wind stirred branches
overhead making the entire area, feel alive and tense.
Each time a shadow shifted, my senses went on high alert but I
never saw anything conclusive just suggestions of movement and
Gloom, it was enough to keep me on edge, until we finally shut
the car doors and turned onto the Gravel Road.
The moment we got a few miles away.
My chest. Felt marginally lighter.
The oppressive heaviness receded and normal conversation began to
trickle back. Uncle Grant muttered, something
about never returning to that place.
Aunt Beverly looked out the window as if she couldn't
believe the last two nights at happened.
Jeff just stared at his phone scrolling aimlessly trying to
distract himself. We all need a distance from
whatever had been going on. When I got back to my own place,
I reached out to my friend Martinez.
She's the type who devours Cryptid documentaries and loves
scouring obscure internet forums.
I expected her to laugh off my story or tease me for getting
jumpy instead. She listened intently
occasionally nodding with a grave expression.
The moment I mentioned a voice that sounded exactly like Uncle
Grant's, she cut in and described stories.
She'd read about creatures, that mimic people's voices to lure
victims out at night. Although I heard rumors of such
folklore before hearing it, tied so closely to my own experience,
made my stomach knot, Martinez explained how these Tales often
surface in mountain regions, but she said, Legends can pop up
anywhere. Dense forests, and remote cabins
exist, people vanished under strange circumstances.
Leaving behind little Trace besides Footprints, or curious
marks on wood or stone that last part stuck with me, the memory
of the porch railing, I recall standing there thinking how
carefully those scratches had been carved.
Later that evening, I scoured the internet on my own reading
about disappearances, theories and plenty of wild speculation.
Not everything felt relevant, but I stumbled on a few accounts
that sounded uncomfortably familiar.
Unexplained knocks distorted animal calls or voices,
mimicking, loved ones. An unsettling, number of people
wrote that responding to these calls, often LED them deeper
into Danger. Ever.
Since a lingering sense of unease, has shadowed me,
especially at night. I'll be in my living room, hear
a random noise outside and feel my heart pound.
All those rational explanations. I once clung to don't hold the
same weight. and while I keep telling myself, we got away in
time, I can't stop wondering what might have happened, if I
had followed the voice, when it called to me, Part of me wishes,
it were a simple case of nerves or an overactive imagination.
Yet everything from the footprints, to the metallic
banging, the gouges in the wood and that echo of my name in the
dark suggests. Something more.
I may never have solid proof but that experience left a mark and
I'm sure I'm not the only one who's driven off into the early
morning. Light convinced, that something
unnatural lurked in the trees behind them, waiting.
That evening, I trudged through the front door feeling grimy
from another two, long shift at the hardware store.
Everything was routine until I noticed.
Benny, my Bulldog mix acting off.
Normally, he'd pounce around eager for attention.
Instead, he hovered near the couch as if expecting trouble.
I called his name. He inched forward, but stayed
low to the floor. Shooting weary glances at the
back door. My girlfriend Sam glanced up
from her spot in the kitchen. Eyebrows raised. he's been like
that for the past hour, she said, I tried taking him out
early but he whined and backed away figured he just sensed
another strike hat. She Shrugged, but I picked up on
the unease, creeping into her voice too.
I told her I had handled Benny's walk thinking of breath of fresh
air might help. Usually, I step out and breathe
in the swampy. Odor of Southern Mississippi,
that damp mix of mud and Moss. This time, the yard felt
strangely cloaked in silence Even the neighborhood frogs and
cicadas. My usual nighttime soundtrack
seemed to be missing The porch light buzzed overhead casting a
faint glow across the patchy grass.
Benny State close to my leg as we headed around the side of the
house. Most nights.
He's Fearless tugging. Me toward the fence to sniff out
whatever smells nature Left Behind tonight.
He looked ready to bolt at any moment.
Still. I kept going shining a little
flashlight at the ground to avoid stepping on any stray
branches or slick mud. The second we rounded the corner
something about the air felt oppressive.
I tried to brush it off, blaming it on exhaustion or the
humidity. We reached our usual spot near
the shed, just a basic metal structure that rises about six
feet high at its peak. Benny did what he came out to
do, but the hair on his back was stiff as bristles.
That's when I noticed movement in the Gloom behind the shed.
My focus snap to a shadow that seemed to stretch taller than
the roof itself. It was like a column of Darkness
sliding between the trees, a single heartbeat later.
The shape started sideways too fast to be a person too large to
be any stray, dog. Benny.
Let out a strangled Yelp and bolted.
I was so startled. I nearly dropped the flash,
light trying not to panic. I sprinted after him nearly
slipping in The Damp grass. Benny reached the porch in
record time. Scratching at the door.
I grabbed the doorknob flung it open and the two of us tumbled
inside. I collapsed against the wall
pulse thudding in my ears. Sam rushed over what happened.
She asked eyes darting between Benny and me.
She must have seen my face because her own expression went
pale. I forced myself to speak though.
The words Tangled in my throat, something's out there.
I managed avoiding the window as I fumbled to lock the door Sam.
Reached for Benny who huddled by her ankles refusing to budge
tension clung to the three of us like static.
I didn't know what I had seen. Only that it moved in a way that
defied every logical explanation.
I could come up with. I realized we needed to check
the yard before I drove myself nuts.
Imagining possibilities. Though, my instincts screamed to
stay put the pull of curiosity was too strong.
Sam. And I exchanged a long look,
both of us unsettled but unwilling to ignore what might
be lurking in the darkness. We decided we had to find out if
we didn't the fear would Fester all night gnawing at us.
Flash lights in hand, we prepared to step into that heavy
Stillness. Once more uncertain, whether
we'd come back any wiser, or just more terrified I couldn't
just stand by and wonder what lurked in those trees.
So I decided to see if my neighbor Walter had any idea.
He's been around these parts longer than anyone.
Plus he keeps a bunch of hunting dogs.
If something unusual was moving through the swamp, he'd probably
have a clue. Sam stayed on our front porch,
flash light in hand. Clearly uneasy about me leaving
Benny hovered behind her. Ears pinned flat, he usually
Trails me everywhere, but not tonight.
After promising, I wouldn't be gone long.
I headed across the yard. Hyper aware of the dark shapes
and rustling. Sounds in the distance.
Walter was on his porch, shining a lantern around.
Like he expected trouble. His old Hound Dog's yapped in
their kennels. A nervous.
Restless noise when he spotted me, he waved me over with a grim
nod. You hear anything strange back
there. I asked trying to keep my voice.
Even Walter scratched his beard admitting.
He heard something pacing around the swamp earlier, but he
figured it was an alligator or maybe Coyote's.
I explained what happened earlier in my own yard,
including the massive silhouette and the fence that nearly got
rocked off its hinges. Walter's expression shifted, he
dealt with all manner of local Wildlife.
But my story put him on edge without a word.
He picked up a rifle even though he's a seasoned Hunter,
something about his posture told me, he wasn't ready for what we
might find. We crept along the fence line at
the back of his property. The Moonlight was faint, but it
was enough to see the Twisted trunks of cypress trees and the
murky water gathered around their roots.
Every so often I heard this squelching like something large
was shifting in the mud deeper in the swamp.
Walter and I edged forward, flash lights darting across the
undergrowth. The dogs kept barking and my
nerves were on edge. The next moment, the fence
between us and the swamp rattled.
So violently that my ears rang from the impact, The whole thing
quivered as those struck by a truck boards grinding and
protest. Walter reflectively fired a shot
into the darkness. We peered through the beams of
our flashlights but nothing moved no Footprints, no sign of
an animal. Still we sensed a presence.
Something nearby watching. Then we heard a voice at least
it sounded like a voice but in a language I'd never heard it was
garbled, wet and seemed to Echo from all directions.
Walter's breath caught. This was obviously new territory
for him, too. I took an involuntary step back.
Every instinct told me we were in deep trouble messing, with
something that knew these marshes better than we did.
Walter motion for me to get out of there.
So I didn't argue, we hurried back toward his house
flashlights, bouncing wildly off the trees, my lungs felt tight
adrenaline crashing, through my veins.
By the time we got to his back porch, the fence was still
rattling even though no one and nothing stood there, I shot one
last look over my shoulder. The swamp was silent again, but
not in any comforting way. It felt more like waiting, While
Walter gave me a stiff nod, letting me know he'd be okay,
though. I could see fear etched on his
face. I sprinted home, heart pounding
desperate to get behind locked doors and figure out how I was
going to keep my family safe from something that defied
explanation. The second I stepped onto my own
porch, Sam rushed into my arms. Benny, finally, inched forward
tail low. As if he could sense.
How spooked I was I told them both what happened though.
My words Spilled Out in pieces. All I knew was that everything
had changed. This swamp we'd called home for
so long was hiding something and it was closer than any of us
wanted to believe. No, more than 10 minutes had
passed since I'd sprinted home from Walter's place.
I tried to steady my breathing, but it stayed ragged as Sam and
I hovered by the kitchen table. Benny refused to leave my side
pacing in circles with his eyes. Fixed on the doorway.
I was in the middle of telling Sam every horrible detail when
the entire house lured like a sudden earthquake had hit our
tiny patch of land, Windows rattled a bank.
So intense that my inside's twisted around each other
rippled through the neighborhood.
A brief flicker in the power caused the overhead light to
dim, then sputter back to life. Sam dropped her phone and Benny
whimpered, in confusion, I ran to the window expecting to see
Flames or some sign of Destruction, but there was only
darkness and that Eerie quiet. Several neighbors Gather in the
street, almost instantly flash, lights bouncing over the
asphalt. Walter emerged from his house
looking frazzled rifle, still clutched in his grip.
One of the neighbor's, an older woman named Jeannie pointed into
the swamp. Swearing, she'd notice some
flickering blue glow in the distance right before the
explosion. Others mumbled about feeling the
ground, shake beneath them the way everyone's voices.
Trembled told me, we were all grappling with the same
Sinister. Thought something unnatural
resided out there and it was getting bolder.
Sam. And I joined the group.
The moment we set foot beyond the lawn and uneasy prickling
sensation crept over my skin. As if we were all being
observed, nobody had an explanation.
Any conversation about it or whatever is out there just Trail
off? in that silence the swamp loomed
soaked and shadows and Stillness police arrived soon after a pair
of officers with tents expressions They questioned Us
in turn jotting down notes. When Walter told them about the
fence being slammed by an invisible force, they exchanged
a look that practically screamed.
They wanted no part in chasing something through a swamp at
night. Even hearing about the
unintelligible voice left. Them shifting on their feet.
By the time they finished taking statements, it was clear.
They were going to file their report and head out.
Not stick around to figure out the cause of that detonation.
Once the patrol car disappeared down the street, we all realized
we had no one else to rely on people retreated to their homes
locking doors, that had never been locked before in this small
community. Walter shot me a knowing glance,
his presence had always been a comfort, like he'd protected
this neighborhood for decades, but now he appeared just as
spooked as the rest of us. Sam.
And I hurried back inside triple checking every window latch
Benny stationed himself near the front door, hackles raised ready
to spring. The residue of that massive bang
still hung in the air. Leaving my nerves on edge, Every
Little Creek of the house, sounded magnified every distant
rustle in. The yard made me tents up time
crawled. We clicked on every lamp,
determined to ward off the oppressive Darkness outside, no
official explanation ever surfaced for the blast
neighbors, whispered about illegal activities in the swamp.
But even the more skeptical folks could not ignore the
stories trickling through our small cluster of homes.
Stories of a colossal, shape weaving through the Merck and a
voice that belonged to no person.
Days later I was still peeking out back windows.
Whenever night fell the entire Place fell different like we'd
stirred up an ancient hornets nest.
Every so often I recalled the Colossal figure near my shed,
the way the fence Shook at Walter's place and the
terrifying language echoing through the undergrowth.
I never got answers and maybe that made it worse knowing
something. Monstrous might still be roaming
those swampy Woods waiting for the right moment to let us know
what was still there. It all started with the way the
sky turned that yellowish gray color right before the clouds,
open up. I was sitting in our cramped,
living room, listening to the wind rattled the window frames
waiting for my parents to say goodbye before they drove off to
their gig. The house wasn't much more than
some creaky boards glued together with mismatched nails,
and every storm felt like a personal attack on its fragile
structure. My younger brother Eric was at
the kitchen table coloring in some old magazine Pages since we
didn't have real coloring books. The tension in the air made
everything feel off. When my folks finally had headed
out, I watched from the screen door as their beat up, sedan
disappeared along the rain, slick, dirt road.
The plan was for Eric and me to camp out in the living room.
Maybe watch an old VHS tape if the power didn't conquer out.
Instead I just pasted around the tiny space eyes darting to the
windows. Every time, the Wind, made them
shutter. The storm was getting worse by
the minute. Fat, drops pounding, the roof
thunder rolling through the valley like distant explosions.
I decided to check on moose, our so-called guard dog.
He was more lanky than intimidating and my dad had tied
him to a rusted engine block on the screened porch.
It wasn't pretty, but it kept him from wandering off. moose
was usually pretty mellow spending his days flopped on the
porch, only barking at random Shadows now and then Tonight
though the wind had him shifting around ears back tail tucked the
second I opened the porch door to see if he was okay.
It nearly blew off its hinges. Letting in a gust of wet air
that chilled the entire front hall moose, perked up probably
wondering if I was taking him inside but my dad never allowed
that. Before I could check the knots
on his chain, the wind slammed again, this time the front
doors, flimsy latch gave way and it wrenched completely loose
from the frame. It felt like a giant had peeled
it back, just for fun. Moose freaked out and jerked
against the chain which scraped along the concrete floor of the
porch with a shrill metallic sound.
By the time I turned around, he was already lunging out side
trailing that chain behind him. The sight of our only Watchdog
bolting into a raging Storm. Sent a jolt of panic straight
through my gut. I slammed a foot against the
door. What was left of it anyway?
Just to keep more rain from rushing in?
Eric eyes wide stood in the hallway.
His little hands clenched in fear.
I had this moment of indecision should I chase mousse should I
stay inside and hope he came back.
My parents would never believed, I'd done everything, I could, if
that dog went missing and Eric was too young to help.
So I told him to stay put and not open any doors.
No matter what. We didn't have a real lock to
secure the front. Just a rusty hook latch that
hung crooked from the wood, but it was the best we could do.
I grabbed my father's, giant rubber boots from the corner,
They nearly swallowed my legs but they were the only
protection I had from the ankle deep water forming outside.
No flash light in sight either. I forgot in the rush or I was
too rattled to think straight. The wind roared like it was
daring me to come out. And I did.
The rain hit me so hard. It might as well have been hail.
It felt like the storm was trying to drive me back into the
house but I forced my way across the yard yelling moose's name, a
flash of lightning revealed a quick glimpse of him.
Scrambling down the back, slope heading for the creek.
That Creek was already more of a raging stream from the downpour
and our makeshift Bridge was basically two planks set across
the bank. I let out a shaky breath, not
that it helped and charged after him.
Mud sucked at my boots with each step and thunder.
Pounded overhead. I could see branches flailing
the trees bent at unnatural angles.
Everything looked like it might snap at any second.
Despite the Roaring wind I managed to pick out the scrape
of Moose's chain. It guided me like a beacon
though. It was faint and easily drowned
out by each Thunderclap. I lost track of time, stomping
through the yard. Maybe it was a minute, maybe 10.
Finally I reached the creek just as another Jagged bolt of
lightning streaked across the sky.
The old planks were slick and crooked but I had no choice.
I gingerly stepped on the wood. Praying.
I wouldn't slip into the Raging Water.
For a split second. I glanced behind me toward the
house. The dim glow from our living
room. Window was barely visible
through the Sheets of Rain. I wished I could turn around and
retreat, but Moose was out there alone and that thought twisted
my stomach. So I pushed on crossing the
bridge in two large strides boots.
Squelching loudly the sound of Moose's chain seemed further up
toward the mountain. The slope beyond the creek was a
tangle of Briars and Soggy leaves and it didn't help that
Darkness clung to every inch of the forest.
One misstep. And I'd be sliding down into the
water or worse. Still, it was better than going
home empty-handed to face my father's Wrath.
I took a deep breath forcing myself to keep moving.
Overhead Thunder boomed again, so powerful at rattled my ribs,
the forest ahead swayed as if alive full of Silhouettes
shifting against each other, something about it felt
unnatural like it was quietly waiting for me.
Biting its time. My pulse hammered away and my
thoughts. Spun with every possible bad
scenario. All I knew was moose was out
there and I had to find him before something else.
Did I gritted? My teeth hands shaking and
started up the slope. If I were lucky, moose was just
around the bend. Maybe Tangled in a bush.
If not, Well, I tried not to think about that.
Either way, there was no going back.
I trudged forward the Roar of the storm, making every step
feel like I was venturing deeper into another world.
The creek was just behind me, it's water.
Raging loud enough to drown out almost everything else.
The crossed on those slippery, planks heart pounding in my
ears. So it took me a second to
realize that Moose's chain had gone quiet.
The silence felt wrong somehow. Even with the rain pounding
leaves in the Thunder crashing above, I had this deep sense
that something out here was holding its breath.
I kept calling moose's name. My voice ragged a flash of
lightning lit, the trees for an instant revealing.
The chaos of the forest floor, Tangled undergrowth, small
streams of runoff, winding between Boulders and everything
slicked with water No sign of moose.
I pushed on boots, squelching and Ankle, deep mud, the wind
whistled between branches almost like it was whispering warning.
I couldn't quite understand after another minute of
struggling uphill that smell hit me.
It was a stench so foul my throat seized in protest like
rotting meat, left out in the summer heat.
I had come across dead animals before out in the Appalachian
Wilderness, but this was different.
It was Stronger like a carcass that had been there a week or
more oozing and attracting flies except I couldn't hear any
flies. Just the thumping of the storm
around me. Whatever it was, it made me want
to turn around and run but I forced myself to keep going.
If moose had gotten hurt or Tangled somewhere, I couldn't
leave him. My eyes watered from the vial
odor and the mud sucked at each step, a branched overhead,
making me jump like something had stepped on it.
I whipped around, but all I saw was the black swirl of the
forest in the downpour. I tried to swallow back the
dread and called out again moose My voice came out.
Sounding desperate bouncing off wet, trunks.
The Thunder grumbled. Its response.
No chainsaws, no whining dog. Nothing lightning flashed once
more. Cutting, the darkness for maybe
half a second. In that brief light.
I spotted something on the ground a few yards away.
My stomach churned. As I took a cautious, Step
Closer. It looked like an animal's, rib
cage, possibly, a deers, picked clean to the Bone.
The edges were dark and ragged as if something had nod on them.
Rainwater, and mud slicked, The Remains, making the bones gleam
on naturally. I felt a wave of nausea but
Terror kept me from throwing up. The wind gusted hard and the
leaves overhead. Thrashed as though Furious, I
was still there. I realized the smell might be
coming from that carcass but if it felt like there was more to
it like something else was in the are Beyond just death.
Something old and malevolent. Then lightning illuminated the
area once again, but this time I noticed that certain patches of
the forest were not lighting up at all.
It was as if a section of the trees had been painted with ink.
So black, the light refused to touch it.
I blinked trying to clear rainwater for my eyes, certain
it had to be a trick of Shadows except it stayed there, a dense
void where Tree Trunks and undergrowth should have been
Suddenly, I heard a barking Frenzy.
My head snapped to the right and in the dims stuttering light
mousse, bounded into view chain, clattering on rocks.
He was soaked and wild-eyed barking at that patch of
Darkness. I yelled his name again, voice
cracking and relief. He kept barking the chain
tangling around his legs as he inched closer to the void.
Every Instinct in me, screamed to keep him away from whatever
that was. I stumbled forward arms flailing
for balance and managed to snatch the chain, just before he
lunged. Moose's, hackles were raised and
a low growl rattled in his throat.
The Barking stopped abruptly as if he realized we were both in
serious Danger. Then a low Rumble echoed from
higher up, the slope, a sound deeper than any animal lighting.
Countered. It felt like it vibrated through
my ribs. So heavy I nearly lost my
balance in the mud. That was enough for both of us.
A yanked moose back and we started downhill calling it.
A retreat would be an understatement.
It was a panic scramble. The ground seemed to keep us
there slipping under my feet. Every time lightning revealed,
tree limbs we jerked around them half expecting something massive
to burst through the brush. Moose fought the chain in
Terror, but for once he and I were on the same page, we needed
to get out of there and fast. The Descent was a blur of
snapping twigs and Thorns. Slicing at my arms, rain
plastered my hair to my face. Forcing me to wipe my eyes
constantly. I barely kept track of Moose's
chain in my hand. Flash of lightning was followed
by the biggest. Boom of Thunder.
I'd heard all night it rattled the leaves off nearby branches,
the steep slope made me feel like I was skiing on wet leaves.
My boots slipped and I nearly fell face first into the muck
behind me a loud. Crash echoed like a gigantic
Branch broke under tremendous weight.
Maybe it was just the wind or maybe it was.
Whatever made that growl I didn't even want to look back.
The only thing that mattered was getting mousse in me across that
Creek, and back to the house. When I finally spotted the creek
below, lightning flickered again.
For a split second, I swear, I Glimpse to tall vaguely
distorted shape higher up on the slope.
The very air around, it seemed to bend.
I squeezed Moose's chain practically dragging him the
last few yards. The planks that served as our
Bridge looked even more. Ricky now, have submerged by the
swollen water. With no real plan.
I splashed across water. Sloshing into my boots.
Moose left beside me, spattering mud everywhere, another vicious
gust, hammered the trees and I heard a crunch of wood.
My imagination or maybe not conjured the idea that something
huge was only a dozen yards behind us, snapping branches in
its path. I didn't wait to confirm.
Mousse. And I stumbled back into what
was left of our yard, the faint glow, from The house's window,
like a beacon. My legs burned with exhaustion
and my lungs. Stung from breathing so hard,
the Storm still raged, but as awful as it was, it felt safer
than whatever lurked deeper in the forest.
The door had swung shut behind me when I left and I could see.
Eric small face pressed to the glass eyes large.
He was waiting probably terrified moose and I darted up
the muddy slope to the porch. I nearly collapsed onto the door
fumbling to get it. Open my hands shook so badly.
I could barely work the latch Finally, it gave and we toppled
inside. I slam the door behind us
though. There wasn't much left of it to
bolt rain dripped from my clothes in a steady Trail.
Moose shook himself, spraying water all over.
Still breathing hard, I pressed my ear to the door, half
expecting something to Slam against it, but all I heard was
the storm. Raging outside, Eric stood by
the dim, lamp on the side table, looking so small that my heart
to see him, he opened his mouth to ask a question, maybe about
what happened out there, but I just raised a hand still
gasping. There was nothing I could say.
That would make sense not yet. Instead, I walked over to the
window, part of the threadbare curtain, a fraction and looked
out into the darkness. My eyes strained to spot any
movement or shape. The rain blurred everything into
a shifting mess of Shadows yet. I couldn't shake the idea that
something was still out there watching listening waiting.
In that moment, the storm outside no longer felt like the
biggest threat. Something else was lurking in
the Appalachian Mountains that night and I had come
terrifyingly close to it. I had no clue what it was or how
it had stayed hidden. All I knew was that we'd barely
gotten away and I didn't want to test our luck twice by morning.
I was running on fumes. I'd spent most of the night in
the living room fighting the urge to fall asleep.
Eric dosed in a chair with moose curled At His Feet.
A rare moment of calm for that dog who was still damp from our
Sprint through the storm? The rain finally started letting
up at sunrise and it gave me just enough courage to crack,
open the busted door and peer out.
The yard looked waterlogged, and torn up like a battleground of
mud and broken branches before. I could decide whether to
investigate the creek, my parents barged in complaining
about the warped door. My dad wearing an old denim
jacket spotted with rain took one glance at the wood we'd
rigged as a latch and muttered. Something about laozi
craftsmanship before turning on me.
He wanted to know why the door was off its frame.
Why? Everything smelled like wet,
dog. And what had happened during the
night? My explanation came out rushed
and jumbled, moose ran off. I chased him.
The storm was insane, something in the woods.
He cut me off with a wave of his hand.
The expression on his face said he was in no mood for what he
believed were, wild stories. He turned around and stomped out
the door, grumbling that he checked for any real damage and
see if any punks messed with our stuff.
My mother followed giving me a tired.
Look, that hovered between concern and annoyance.
I stood there Knuckles sore from gripping, Moose's chains.
So tight, the night before. A part of me wanted to just let
my dad go, but my gut told me, I should see what he found at the
creek. The memory of that snarling
sound, the rotten smell and the impossible Darkness clung to my
mind like a stain. Eric stated inside to calm
mousse. While I stepped out into the
dreary morning rain, still dripped from the gnarled trees
overhead. The sky was a dull gray that
made everything look washed out except for scattered piles of
shattered would leading toward the creek.
I followed the splinters my boots sliding in patches of
thick mud. My parents were already ahead
picking their way down the slope the bridge or what was left of
it. Looked like something had
crushed and shredded it overnight.
Chunks of rotted plank, lay in the swollen water and Jagged
spikes. Stuck up at odd angles.
My dad crouched on the muddy Bank, running his hand, over a
broken piece. His lips tightened in anger.
Kids with no respect. He said under his breath,
though, he didn't explain how any kid.
Could have snapped boards, and such a Savage way.
My mom glanced over at me. Her eyebrows raised.
She hadn't said much since we got here, just stared at the
destruction with a pale face. I could see the gears turning in
her head trying to reconcile this with the idea of some
troublemakers running around in the rain.
It didn't fit and I think she knew it, but she wasn't about to
admit it out loud. The smell of Decay had faded
someone replaced by the Dank odor of morning fog and wet
Earth. But I couldn't shake the memory
of it. I shuffled closer to the water
scanning the opposite Bank. The forest Beyond seemed calm,
just dripping leaves in the faint, baby of the creek.
In broad daylight, there was no sign of that strange void or the
presence I sensed before. It was like the mountain had
returned to its usual self. Just another stretch of
Appalachians brimming with wild Critters and tall trees.
My dad grabbed a loose Plank and threw it aside.
He gestured for me to come over and pointed at a deep scratches
along the wood teeth marks. He snapped, as though, I was the
expert, the edges were Jagged as if something had nod or torn at
the plank with an unbelievable Force.
He shook his head. Beavers may be he mumbled the
white never heard of beavers, large enough to snap a thick
board in one bite. He stood up, rubbing his hands
on his jacket. Looking over the muddy mess,
I'll have to fix this. He said, then shot me a glare.
Next time, keep that dog under control.
We can't afford to replace everything he tears up.
I wanted to argue to tell him, it wasn't mousse, but I could
already see the disbelief in his eyes.
He'd made up his mind that local hoodlums or some oversized.
Animal caused. All the chaos.
We made our way back toward the house.
My dad muttering plans to gather more wood and reinforce the
place. My mom traildonkey.
I suspected, she had questions about what really happened, but
she stayed quiet. I had a bunch of questions
myself, and none of them had good answers inside.
Eric was petting moose who seemed exhausted, like he had no
fight left, the dog wouldn't even look at the door and every
time, a gust of wind shook the house, he pressed himself
tighter against Eric's legs. My parents wanted breakfast and
coffee so they shoot us out of the kitchen.
We ended up back in the living room, facing the window that
gave a perfect view of the yard and the dripping Woods Beyond
Eric whispered. Was it a bear?
I shook my head, not sure how to respond.
A bear might tear up a plank, sure.
But the snarl heard on the slope wasn't quite animal.
I thought about telling him everything, the black void, the
smell, the mangled carcass I saw, but I couldn't bring myself
to terrify him even more. We'd barely slept as it was.
The day rolled on dull and gloomy with my parents hauling
tools out to patch up the front door.
I stood in the yard eyes drifting toward the tree line in
normal. Whether it was just a typical
patch of forest crowded with Ferns and oak trees.
Occasional deer tracks. Now I pictured the Twisted
remains of the bridge and that unnatural Darkness hidden
somewhere up the slope waiting for another storm or another
unwary Wanderer. My mom called me to help with
the door. So I wandered back and hammered
Nails where my dad pointed trying not to think about the
place beyond the creek. It felt like just a few short
hours ago, we'd been running for our lives certain that something
monstrous was on our heels. But with the daylight creeping
in, nobody wanted to mention it. Nobody wanted to believe
anything. Unexplainable lurked, this close
to our house. Eventually when the door was
half fixed, my parents turned their attention to the yard and
started ranting about Muddy Footprints.
And The Battered porch The tension in the house was like a
Titanic knot. Nobody felt safe but we all
pretended. It was just a typical morning
after a storm. I retreated to my room for a bit
peeling off the filthy clothes, I still had on part of me wanted
to ask if we could leave even for a day go stay with someone
else until the weather cleared. But we barely had enough gas
money, to get my parents to their gig, they warned about to
up in vacate the house because of one scary night.
I kept glancing out my window half expecting a sudden movement
near the tree line. Nothing showed just water
dripping from branches and leftover fog hugging the base of
the mountains. Under a normal Sky, it might
even look serene. But I'd seen what the Knight
could hide. My heart thudded.
Every time I remembered that rumbling growl echoing through
the storm. The next few hours dragged on
Eric tried to calm mousse with bits of food, but the dog
wouldn't leave his side. My parents acted like the real
villain was the wind or maybe some vandals who chose in the
worst weather possible to play pranks.
Nobody acknowledged that the broken bridge splintered into
fragments was too extreme for a casual prank.
Nobody wanted to confront the idea that something Beyond
ordinary had trampled, those planks and to match sticks.
Once the evening arrived a sick feeling settled in my stomach.
The sky was clearing Stars, beginning to peek out.
Normally, I'd be relieved to see no more rain.
But a clear night meant every dark corner of the forest.
Stood out in sharp detail. I caught myself scanning the
window, again, searching the edges for any shape.
That didn't belong. There was no sign of that
Darkness or the stench of Decay yet, I couldn't convince myself.
It was truly gone. The Appalachians had plenty of
hidden Corners, caves and Hollows where something could
live without being disturbed. Maybe it only came out in storms
or maybe we'd simply stumbled upon its territory at the wrong
moment. I hated not knowing.
I helped Eric settle in for the night keeping moose next to us.
We sat on the Warren couch, lights off just quietly, looking
at the window. Sometimes you can feel safer in
the dark if you think nothing can see you.
Get I was aware of everything. Every Creak in the rafters,
every gust of wind outside. A branch scraped the roof.
And I nearly jumped. But no, monstrous shadowed at
the window, no chain rattling. Chase played out in the yard.
When my parents finally turned in the house, fell into an
uneasy silence. Eric drifted to sleep,
eventually, arms wrapped around moose, like a security blanket.
I sat there staring past their forms at the night beyond the
window gripping. The couch, cushions, until my
fingers hurt, the Moonlight made the tree line visible.
Turning the shapes of trunks and Tangled branches into black
silhouettes. Part of me tried to believe
nothing was out there but it was a hollow belief.
Somewhere in those mountains. Something was waiting, something
I'd practically run headlong into when chasing moose.
Something that snapped planks left bones in the mud and made a
sound that shook the ground, like a tremor.
I just prayed it wasn't peering back this way, remembering my
scent. The idea sent my heart rattling
in my chest. And so I sat through the night
Wide Awake, glancing at the window, every time a breeze
stirred, a branch. If the thing from the storm
decided to come back, I knew our patched up door, wouldn't be
enough to keep it out, but all I could do was cling to hope that
daylight would keep it at Bay that maybe this horror was
finished with us or at least satisfied enough to leave us
alone for a while longer. It was the fall of 2009 and I
was 16 years old at the time. I lived in the central part of
North Carolina. Nowadays, the cities are loaded
with things to do for the Halloween season.
But back then, the best form of entertainment.
I could come up with was visiting the devil's tramping
ground with a few friends. The devil's tramping ground is a
local Legend. It sits right outside Siler City
in North Carolina about an hour away from where I lived and I
had just gotten my license. So why not for those unfamiliar
with the local or its Legend? The devil's tramping ground is a
perfectly circular patch of dead soil, in the middle of the
Woods. Despite the surrounding
Greenery. Nothing grows in that Circle.
Legend says that if you drop or leave anything in the circle,
it's moved or disappears by morning as the devil.
Supposedly comes here late at night to plot, his evil, doing
things Against Humanity, pacing in a circle.
As he thinks That's the gist. But feel free to research it.
It's a decent read. Siler City is a sticks and barns
town with long Baron roads that practically scream.
Don't stop until you get the hell out of here.
It was on one of those roads that I began to feel uneasy,
rural areas, always have that heavy Twilight Zone energy and
the road we were on conveniently named Devil's tramping.
Ground Rd was entirely unlit The only illumination for the
cracked asphalt, was the fading yellow headlights of my 2002,
Mercury Cougar, and the faint glow of a crescent moon.
In those dim lights, we started to see graffiti splattered on
the road leading up to the place.
Creepy warnings, I didn't expect and never realized the impact of
until I saw them. In white paint, the road was
marked with crude messages the one.
I remember most said the devil lives here And a huge white
cross stood in front of an opening in the forest.
I parked on the side of the road.
The grounds itself wasn't as creepy as I had expected.
It wasn't very deep into the woods.
In fact, the clearing was visible from the road.
It wasn't as menacing as I had imagined.
Maybe it was the empty beer cans and red Solo cups, scattered
around obviously people party there.
Or maybe it was the jokes, my friends and I started cracking
almost immediately. But at around 2 a.m. we wanted
to catch Lucifer at his. Our I felt Less on edge than I
had on the road. my flash light beam seemed to vanish if I aimed
at Upward, so I kept it pointed at the soil, genuinely more
interested in finding something paranormal than my friends were
There were four of us total after a while.
Two of my friends went back to the car.
It was cold and not much was happening.
I stayed behind with one friend. I had brought a Ziploc bag along
with a pocket. Bible a Rosary in my pocket just
in case and a stuffed rabbit given to me by one of my best
friends. Before leaving.
I scooped some of the Dead soil into the Ziploc, curious to see
if studying it later. Might provide a clue alien
radiation, climate change, sulfur.
Maybe the devil was just busy that night between joking and
complaining about the cold. We, suddenly heard, someone
walking in the depths of the woods, this wasn't a vague
noise. This was a definite heavy step,
the sound came from behind the brush among the trees, and it
was unashamed of being heard. That was the first time I
noticed. There were no crickets or any
other sounds at all. It was just us and these
footsteps. I was even more reluctant to
lift my small flash light, which was tucked under my arm and
pointed at my soil sample. My eyes had already adjusted to
the dark. So we stood there and I could
make out the shape of something in the woods.
It was dark but I could see it tall but not freakishly tall,
human-shaped, walking on two feet.
It would walk, then stop then walk again.
Moving in our Direction, I think.
We were petrified not moving or breathing.
I was so afraid. I felt numb, though.
I trembled a little. We just stared.
Later, we talked about how we both wondered if it saw us and
how we didn't want to move in case it hadn't.
We'd also talk about the smell and awful putrid, stench of
burning feces rotting eggs and decaying meat.
I grew up Catholic hence the Bible and rosary and was taught
that smell meant the devil was nearby which only made things
worse. Even now typing this I'm
trembling a bit. This thing lingered among the
skeletal branches seemingly. Toying with us.
I say skeletal because not much Greenery was alive at the time.
At some point, I was sure. It saw me.
I got that Sixth Sense, feeling of being watched and then an
overwhelming despair washed over me.
That's when I realized my friend had been clutching the back of
my collar. I think I was so paralyzed with
fear that I felt nothing, but numbness.
Wasn't even cold anymore. But once I felt my friend's
hand, I dropped everything in my arms, stood up and quickly
headed, back to the car. I didn't run outright but it was
a very hurried walk. I just assumed my friend was
right behind me. To be honest, I didn't think
much about it at the time. I was too ready to leave.
I took off into the trees and of following the clear path heading
toward the yellow glow of the headlights.
All though, the road was closed by it felt like an agonizingly
long distance enough for the small branches to scrape and cut
my hands cheeks and neck. This whole ordeal couldn't have
lasted very long. When I got back to my car, the
keys were already in the ignition.
The other two had turned on the heat and they asked what had
happened. My friend who stayed behind with
me, got in the passenger seats soon after, and we took off The
two in the car pointed out that our eyes were swollen and bright
red. I think we had been crying
without realizing it. Or at least it looked that way.
In the rearview mirror, I saw my pupils where abnormally, large
and my eyelids were puffy tender and red.
Maybe it was just fear combined with the darkness, but it was
still unsettling. I realized later, I'd left my
Bible. My stuffed rabbit and my Ziploc
bag of dirt in the circle. I thought about going back the
next day when it was light out. But I never did.
I still wonder and worry about who might have my things now,
Rock Island is a state park located at the tip of Door
County Wisconsin on Lake Michigan.
It's a difficult place to get to to reach the island.
You have to take a car ferry from Ellison, Bay to Washington
Island, drive across Washington Island to Jackson Harbor.
Then take a pedestrian, only ferry to Rock Island.
No, vehicles are bikes are allowed on Rock Island.
Even though the island is relatively small about 975
Acres, it has an interesting history. in the early 1600s it
was inhabited by a tribe of Potawatomi, Native Americans, as
well as a small fishing Village of European settlers, The two
groups did not trust each other and had a few bad encounters
that almost led to violence. But for the most part, they
lived peacefully together. By the 1640s, the Potawatomi had
migrated to other parts of Wisconsin.
Shortly after the Potawatomi left, the island some settlers
from the fishing Village reported.
Seeing a new group of people there.
They seemed to be more white settlers, but they wore strange
clothes and kept to themselves. No, one from the fishing Village
was ever able to speak with these newcomers or even find
where they were living. It was around this time.
That strange things started happening in the village Several
animals, possibly pigs are chickens kept by the settlers
were found slaughtered and it seemed their blood had been used
to make markings on some of the buildings.
On a different night. A building used for preserving,
meat burned, down the villagers. Believed these acts were done by
the new people on the island and searched thoroughly, including
the wooded inland area, but never found a single person.
These strange occurrences seem to stop soon after the search
and of the other newcomers were ever seen again.
In 1836, the Potawatomi Lighthouse was built on the
northern part of the island. After construction was finished,
the lighthouse was inspected and it was reported that the
material of which the lighthouse and dwelling are made are of the
best quality and that the work is done.
In a substantive and workmanlike manner.
On December 19th. 1837 David E Corbin was appointed the first
Keeper of the light only three years later in 1840, despite the
apparent, quality of the lighthouse Corbin complained
that plaster was beginning to fall off and some sort of liquid
ooze. Through cracks leaving the house
constantly damp Corbin was alone.
Most of the time at the Lighthouse and some visitors
said he would stare at a certain wall and sometimes spoke vaguely
of other visitors. In 1845, after 8 years of
relative Solitude and inspector visited Corbin at the light
house. While Corbin was fulfilling his
duties. The inspector noted he was
acting strangely. The official reports says the
inspector ordered Corbin to take a 25-day leave of absence to
find a wife to live with him. However, some believe the
inspector was startled by Corbin's mental state brought on
by Years of Solitude and thought it best for him to spend some
time away from the island. In 1852, Corbin reportedly fell
ill and died that December in the lighthouse.
He was buried in a small Cemetery just south of the
lighthouse, the next Lighthouse Keeper.
Also, reported a surprisingly quick, deterioration of the
lighthouse friends who visited him said, he spoke of seeing
strange things in the house at night, but he wouldn't elaborate
in 1858 after only 22 years of service, the original Lighthouse
was torn down and a new one was built from that point on
Lighthouse. Keepers were required to have an
assistant keeper or a family living with them.
No further strange occurrences were noted in the lighthouse log
book outside of strong, storms and occasional shipwrecks,
except on January 20th, 1876. The Keeper at the time named
Beth's reported seeing two men attempting to road to the
mainland from Washington Island. A terrible storm came up shortly
after their departure and they never reach their destination.
Over three months later on May 3rd, 1876 bets wrote.
The two men who were lost last January, have been seen several
times once from, Caney Lighthouse.
And once from Jackson port, The men were apparently frozen stiff
and sitting upright in the boat among a mass of ice at last,
they were still a drift. There is not much hope that they
will be found and buried by 1900, most of rock Islands,
inhabitants left for better. Fishing areas on Lake Michigan.
In 1910, a successful business owner and inventor Chester
thorderson, purchased all of the island, except for the land
occupied by the lighthouse in the North.
He used the island as a private summer Retreat from his business
in Chicago. Thorson is responsible for the
unique and mystifying buildings in structures that are still on
the island. Today, on the south end, he
built a giant, stone hall with a Boathouse, on the lower level, a
stone water tower. Was built on the east side of
the island and an imposing. Wooden gate was constructed on
the West End. The Great Hall was used to store
Thorson's immense book collection.
He had over 11,000 books and its rumored.
He possessed some very rare books on the occult.
Thorson died of heart, failure on January, 6th, 1945 though,
some have speculated. He saw something that scared him
to death. I couldn't find any writings
from Thorson, that mentioned him experiencing anything strange on
the island. After his death, multiple
churches and universities were interested in his book
collection, but he had wielded to the University of
Wisconsin-Madison, providing that, they purchase it for
$300,000 dollars which they did. Some of this history is hard to
find online, but there are a couple of binders in the Great
Hall that document much of it. These personal papers are housed
in The Archives of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin.
All of this history is meant to provide some context for
experiences, I've had directly or indirectly on Rock Island.
In August of 2021, I took my first and last trip there.
After taking two fairy rides, I arrived on the island at about 2
p.m. I had booked the remote campsite
e. A backpacking site a little over
a mile from the dock. I took my time hiking out to the
site, to enjoy the scenery and took a couple of breaks, because
of my heavy pack. I was definitely packed more for
camping than for hiking. I reached my site set up my
tent, got everything situated, and started Gathering sticks,
and driftwood from the beach for a fire.
On my third trip, back from the beach before I returned to my
site, I heard a single high pitched.
Squeal coming from the forest It didn't sound close, but it was
such an unusual noise that I stopped in my tracks and waited
a good 30 seconds to see if it would happen again.
It didn't. So, I went back to my site and
began getting a fire started. The remote sites on Rock Island
are well spaced out. Sightsee D and E are grouped
together, but there's probably a hundred yards between each.
There isn't a real Trail, connecting the three sites
directly, but enough people have walked along the ridge.
That there's an obvious path as I was arranging sticks in my
fire. Ring something caught my eye.
Fairly far away. Maybe near sight d or a bit
farther. A person was running in my
direction. My first thought was that's odd
because there isn't really a proper Trail there.
Then I assumed something must be wrong in this person needed
help. As they got a bit closer I
thought it might be a woman in loose, gray clothes, maybe a
hoodie but the person was still too far away to see details.
I quickly stood up from my crouching position and just then
I heard that high pitched squeal.
Again, it was behind me much closer this time.
Startled, I turned around and scan the trees for a few
seconds, but didn't see or hear anything.
I turned back around, knowing the runner, must be getting
close, but now they were gone. I stood there, scanning the
trees but saw no one. I was confused and froze for a
few seconds. It was very strange, but I
reasoned that it was just a fellow camper from sightsee or
D. Maybe running to the pit toilet.
That was a couple hundred yards west of the sights.
I tried to forget about it, but it bothered me.
I really did not like that squeal and it gave me a strange
feeling. I forced myself to let it go and
started my fire. I had a quick meal and a couple
of adult beverages then decided to take a short walk.
I hadn't seen sights C or D yet so I thought I would check them
out and see if anyone was camping nearby.
Site D was empty. I saw the path that led from
that site to the main trail and pit toilet, which made me less
uneasy about the runner I figured it was someone from
sightsee who took a weird path. It's still didn't make perfect
sense, since I should have seen them but it made me feel better.
I continued to cite sea and saw there was a tent setup.
I didn't want to bother anyone but I decided to introduce
myself as a neighbor from sight, e to see if anyone looked like
the person I'd seen running. I walked up and there was a
couple sitting at the picnic table.
Neither looked like the runner. I introduced myself, they
introduced themselves. They were probably in their
mid-30s, very nice, and both seemed to be quietly drunk.
I didn't ask about the runner or the squealing noise, thought it
might be weird. So, I just wished them a good
night and headed back to my tent.
When I got back, I had a cigar and a few more drinks.
It got dark and it started as a perfect night.
The sky was clear. And the stars were brilliant.
I felt better about the day and decided to get some sleep.
It had been a long day so I fell asleep.
Almost immediately. Around 2:30 a.m.
I was woken by a huge, boom of thunder.
It started pouring. The wind picked up and the
temperature dropped. I love camping in the rain but
not in a lightning storm. A pretty big storm rolled in and
I started to worry the wind whipped at my tent and the
ground shook from thunder and lightning.
I felt very exposed out there in a tent.
The storm lasted about an hour before becoming a light steady
drizzle. I was just starting to fall back
asleep when I heard the squeal again.
I opened my eyes wide in the dark and lay there silently.
There was another squeal louder and it was pretty close.
I knew there were no truly dangerous animals on Rock
Island, deer and porcupines, but no Bears or Wolves.
But that knowledge didn't help. Something about that.
Squeal unsettled me, I call it a squeal because that's the best I
can describe it. It sounded like a pig, squeal an
injured or angry pig. I kept lying there and then
heard footsteps outside my tent. It was still raining, so the
sound was partially masked, but it definitely sounded like
something. What large an animal or a human
walking around. I sat up and pulled out a knife,
just to feel better. In my head, I kept telling
myself. It's just an animal.
There's nothing here that can hurt you.
I listened as the footsteps moved away, from my 10.
I sat there still holding the knife for maybe 10 minutes
without hearing anything else. I started to think it's fine.
It was just an animal, you're being silly and you need to
sleep. I was about to lie back down
when there was a very loud squeal right outside my tent.
It felt like my heart. Stopped a shiver, went down my
spine. My heart started pounding so
hard that my entire body pulsed and I felt it in my ears.
It took all my courage but I managed to force out.
Get out of here. I didn't shout but I tried to
sound a Stern and threatening as I could.
I heard no more squeals or footsteps that night.
But I couldn't sleep. I sat there for about an hour
then laid down. Eventually, the rain stopped and
I stayed there until the sun came up.
I kept reassuring myself that I was being ridiculous and it had
to be an animal. It was probably 7 a.m. when I
decided I had to step outside my tent.
As soon as I did, I saw that my picnic table had been flipped
upside down. Surprisingly, I felt calm and
thought. Okay, that's enough.
I'm leaving the island today, I checked around and nothing else
seemed out of place. I eventually reasoned that maybe
the wind had blown the table over during the storm.
It still seemed odd given how heavy the table was and that I
didn't hear it flip, but that explanation made some sense.
I made some cold instant coffee, had a bite to eat and started to
feel better about everything. Then I decided to go for a hike.
I admit I get easily scared when I'm camping alone in the woods.
Maybe that's natural. But after having coffee and food
and seeing the sun, I realized that nothing I'd seen or heard
was outright unexplainable other than losing some sleep.
I was still enjoying myself. The main reason I came to Rock
Island was to hike. The Seven Mile Thorson's loop
trail, which has a lot of interesting sights.
Close to my site is the water tower.
I have no idea how it originally worked or why it had to be a
tower, but it's an impressive building with a fireplace that
looked like someone had recently used it.
A little farther down, the trail was a cemetery where two sisters
and a few others are buried. It's believed there are more
unmarked Graves there, likely from the old fishing Village,
the island has three cemeteries one by the beach, where
Chesterton is buried one on the eastern part of the island where
the Two Sisters, rest, and one on the northern part where the
original Lighthouse Keeper, David E Corbin is buried.
There is also at least one, Potawatomi.
Burial area on the island though.
No one knows exactly where it is.
I continued on the trail until I came to a Scenic Overlook with a
bench. I sat down and drank some water.
I started hearing voices on the trail ahead, though.
I couldn't see anyone yet. The trail bent and the trees
were thick. So I waited to see who would
appear as the voice has got closer.
I realized they were not speaking English but I couldn't
place the language. Both voices were very deep and
guttural then deeper in the woods.
I heard a loud quick Rumble sound.
Immediately both of the voices responded with a higher pitched
Rumble. I smiled a bit thinking.
Maybe they heard whatever it was and were played mocking it.
I stood up, put on my backpack and walked in their Direction,
but I never came across them. The rest of the hike was fine.
I visited the cemetery where David E Corbin is buried.
Took a self-guided tour of the Potawatomi Lighthouse passed,
the wooden gate, apparently, once part of a larger structure
walked by the great hall in the dock visited, some of the other
structures and saw thorderson Cemetery.
Then I finished the loop by returning to my campsite.
It was a pleasant hike with plenty to see and not very
difficult though. I was tired I walked to sightsee
to ask the couple how they'd fared in the storm but they had
already left. I was disappointed because I
really wanted to ask them if they'd heard the squealing
noise. The rest of the evening was
uneventful. I built a fire made some meals.
Had a cigar and some drinks. As soon as it got dark, I was
ready for bed after the previous night's lack of sleep.
I got in my tent and fell asleep quickly.
Maybe three hours later. I woke up Suddenly fully alert.
Nothing seemed to have caused me to wake up but I felt something
was wrong. I sat up and it's hard to
explain but a feeling of complete dread washed over me.
It was unlike anything I've ever felt.
It felt like there was something in the tent with me and I could
sense. It was enraged, filled with
anger, and hatred. For me, it felt like something
terrible was about to happen and I was powerless to stop it.
I started shivering uncontrollably.
There was a strong smell of garbage or rotten meat growing.
So intense, I thought I might vomit, but I was too Frozen in
fear to move. I had never felt so vulnerable.
My mind seemed to accept that whatever was coming even death,
would at least be a relief. Then I blacked out.
I assume I passed out because the next thing I remember is
waking up around 8 a.m. When I woke up, I was lying on
top of my sleeping bag, not in it.
And my legs were in an awkward position.
My left leg straight my right leg bent.
So my foot was against my left knee.
My heart started pounding, but I kept telling myself, it was just
a dream. I'm leaving right now.
I packed everything quickly and made my way toward the dock to
catch the first boat off the island.
Since the first boat from Washington Island, doesn't
arrive until about 10:30. A.m.
I had some time to kill near the Great Hall and Doc I wanted off
the island badly, but felt a bit calmer being out of the woods
and seeing other people. I sat on a bench east of the
dock and let us cigar, just to occupy my mind and keep from
thinking about the night before. After a few minutes, I was
startled by someone behind me saying hi.
I jumped embarrassed and the person came around saying,
sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.
I saw you smoking and came over to ask if you had a lighter.
I felt dumb and told him I was just tired from not sleeping.
Well, I handed him my lighter. He thanked me, lit, a cigarette
and gave the lighter back. We started chatting about normal
things. He said he was from the Madison
area, talked about the storms and mentioned, he was an
outdoorsy guy with plans to move to Washington Island.
It was a nice normal conversation that took my mind
off the night. I'd had he seemed like, a decent
person, then naturally. He asked, which site I'd been
staying at I told him sight e for the last two nights.
He said he usually books he but I must have reserved it before
him. So he had booked sight d
instead. I was surprised because I had
seen no tent or anything at sight.
D the two times I passed by He explained that he comes to the
island a few times a year. And while you have to reserve a
site, he actually camps in different areas on the island.
I asked where he camps and he said he usually camps in the
East Cemetery but also like to camp in the woods south of the
lighthouse He told me, he hikes about halfway down the Fernwood
Trail, then heads North into the woods and finds a spot to camp.
he said that once he found the ruins of a small log house in
these woods and he wants to Camp inside at some day, At this
point, I started to reconsider him and wanted to change the
subject. But then he asked if I had heard
the screeches in the woods I paused knowing he meant the
squealing. I'd heard.
I said yes and asked if he knew what it was.
He took a second to answer and I saw his expression change.
Like he was deciding whether to share a secret.
With no emotion in his voice, he said matter-of-factly.
A demon lives on this island. Under other circumstances, I
would have laughed it off but not after my experience.
He must have seen the anxiety and fear on my face because he
let out a quick laugh. he asked if I had seen anything that
night, I told him I hadn't and he stared at me like he was
trying to figure something out. I felt he knew I had experienced
something. I wanted the conversation to
end. But then, he told me he saw
something in the cemetery that night.
His face and mood changed like he was going to confide in me.
I really didn't want to ask what he'd seen but I knew he wanted
me to. So I asked my voice shaking.
I could tell he changed his mind about telling me, he looked at
me with empathy and said what he saw was hard to explain, but if
I was already afraid of the screeching, I shouldn't go near
the cemetery. I didn't respond right away,
then he said four words with no contacts.
Keepers of the flame. I looked at my cigar and saw the
ash was long. I put it out, told him I was
going to wait by the dock and he nodded as I walked away.
He called Hey and when I turned around he just said don't come
back here. I don't know if that was a
warning or a friendly suggestion, but I certainly
wasn't planning to return to Rock Island.
When I got home, I looked up keepers of the flame in
connection with Rock Island. I found three possible
references. The name Potawatomi can be
translated to keepers of the flame.
The lighthouse Keeper's were sometimes called keepers of the
flame. and there was all a 19th century, cult said to visit the
island calling themselves the same I know hundreds of people
visit Rock Island every year and have a great time camping,
hiking and exploring Thorson's building's.
My humble suggestion is this do not go to Rock Island.
I Wake Up Before Sunrise. Same as always and slip on my
boots. There's a strange heaviness in
The Farmhouse are. But I chalk it up to early
morning grogginess and pushed the feeling aside. outside fog,
settles over the fields, blurring the boundary between
our pastures and the foothills, Normally that view, calms me the
hush before chores begin. But today, I can't shake the
prickling sense that something is off.
I head toward the barn to check the feed and water troughs at
first glance. Everything looks normal.
The cattle huddled together in the early morning, chill, a
light Breeze stirring stray pieces of hay, around my ankles.
Still my nerves are on edge. It's been months since the first
cow disappeared with no explanation, you'd think time
with my anxiety, but the lack of answers.
Only stirs it up more. I remember that awful morning
when we searched every Hollow in Ridge hoping to find tracks or
any sign of a struggle. Instead, all we discovered were
those flat and circles in the grass.
As if something massive had pressed down from above and two
vehicles, both inexplicably. Drained of gas parked, right?
By these Erie patterns, We told ourselves that had to be some
kind of prank or a freak coincidence, but the memory
still makes my teeth cleaned. I shake off the thoughts and get
back to my chores. Counting heads, checking fence
lines, making sure they're having been any breakouts The
herd seems fine. And as the sun climbs, the fog
rolls, back to reveal the entire Farm.
I know every inch of this land by heart, I grew up on it but
lately walking these fields unsettles.
Me Some nights. I Circle the property three or
four times to ensure everything's locked up.
I tell myself, it's just caution but deep down, I recognize it as
dread after a brief talk with my husband, we decide to keep a
close, watch around the spot where the first Cohen vanished,
It's near the property line where a few ragged cedar posts
and Rusty wire. Mark our boundary no recent
vehicle troubles have cropped up, but I still find myself
scanning the ground, half expecting to see those flat and
Impressions again. Nothing shows up.
Which somehow feels even more ominous like the farm is holding
back some vital clue. By midday, the sun is brutal and
the cows lays in the shade. I Linger by the fence scanning
for anything. Any sign that might explain what
happened, but it's quiet. Too quiet.
Normally, I'd Savor a day free from trouble, but right now I'd
give anything for a simple issue like a sick, calf or a broken
fence. At least those make sense and
can be fixed. My husband waves me over From
The Far Side of the field. The anxiety on his face mirrors
my own. And neither of us needs words to
say, we're still haunted by all this.
We finished chores in silence. Each wondering how something.
So impossible could happen here on land.
That was always our Haven. Evening arrives, painting the
sky with orange and pink streaks.
I love a bale of hay. To the feeding area.
Mentally reviewing every Theory. I've heard rustlers sinkholes
mountain, lions, none of it adds up.
We never found Footprints tire tracks or any trace of a
culprit. it's as if that cow simply blinked out of existence,
After dinner, I Linger on the porch.
The yard light casts a week glow that Fades into the dark Fields
Beyond. My gaze drifts to the tree line.
Normally, the rustle of leaves at night is soothing but tonight
at sets my nerves on high alert, I can't shake the feeling
something out there. Doesn't belong.
Refusing to let fear win, I walked down the steps and stand
in the driveway, peering into the dimness.
My rational mind insists, there's nothing out there that
it's just my imagination. Still tension squeezes my chest
compelling me to check the Horizon again and again.
Finally, I force myself back inside, fighting the urge to
stand guard till Dawn. In The Farmhouse.
I try to unwind but my thoughts spin in circles.
How did that cow vanish? So completely and is whatever
took it still around. When I climb into bed, I
promised myself to stay vigilant, no matter how paranoid
it makes me. Sometimes not knowing is its own
special torment. And right now, I'm drowning in
it. I had been convincing myself.
We were fine that the tension on the farm was just a leftover
reaction from the first disappearance.
But the moment, my husband told me my favorite cow was missing.
I felted deeper dread sink in I'd raise her from a calf and
she never strayed far as specially not from her own baby
yet, there was her calf bleeding and helpless circles.
No sign of its mother, my sister showed up soon after she is the
family's Fearless One, always ready for a late night drive or
trekking through a thorny Halo to find a lost calf.
Even she looked shaken when she arrived, we grabbed flashlights
piled into the truck with my husband and spent hours scouring
every corner of the property. Waiting through, muddy Creeks
climbing steep ridges crawling under fences nothing It was as
though, the cow had been lifted, straight off the pasture by
evening. We were exhausted.
My husband headed back toward the barn, thinking we might have
overlooked something closer to home.
My sister and I tackled the strip of woods between two
Fields the in between we call it because it's technically someone
else's land jutting into ours like a mismatched puzzle piece.
Rusted barbed wire runs along the boundary but our cows
sometimes pushed through weak spots if they're determined.
We parked at the fence line as the sun dipped low Shadows
stretching across the grass. My sister hesitated before
climbing over, which is unusual for her.
I tried to joke that she was getting Squamish, but my own
voice sounded shaky. Eventually, she hauled herself
over and we pressed into the trees.
The deeper, we went the more wrong.
Everything felled. Birds and leaves that should
have been rustling were silent. And oppressive hush weighed on
us. I called out my cow's name half
laughing at the notion. She dancer my sister tried to
speak but her voice, sounded muffled, like the air itself was
resisting her words, she looked pale struggling just to breathe
a few yards later, we stopped cold.
It felt like my nerves were humming with electricity my
sister gripped. My arm Whispering that she
couldn't even hear me clearly though, we were only inches
apart. At the same time, I picked up on
a low vibration, more pressure than sound.
The Shadows around us seemed to shift whenever I focused on them
without really discussing it. We both knew we had to leave my
sister turned first and I stumbled after her slipping on
damp leaves and tripping over hidden Roots.
The fence seemed miles away as if the woods were stretching out
to keep us there. By the time, we finally saw the
barbed wire, I was shaking and my sister looked, as white as a
sheet. Crossing back onto our own
field, felt like gulping fresh air.
After nearly drowning. We stood there catching our
breath neither of us willing to speak about what we just
experienced. It was too bizarre, too heavy.
All we knew was that, these Woods didn't want us inside and
we had two missing cows to prove it.
Still, no, real explanation. Only the horrible certainty that
it was worse than we'd ever imagined.
When we rejoined my husband we skipped details about the
suffocating atmosphere. We just told him we'd found no
broken branches, no Footprints nothing.
He looked grim. The sun was almost gone and we
knew better than to hang around those trees after Dark.
My sister decided to head home. I lingered in the yard letting
the dim light play tricks. On my eyes while I stared at the
distant Tree Line, another cow was missing and now we had
first-hand evidence of something lurking, in those woods
something that could still the forest itself, I promised
myself. I wouldn't stop digging until I
found a real answer. If I didn't, we might lose more
than just cattle. Even after I went inside, I
couldn't settle. My mind kept circling back to
the way those woods felt alive as if the trees themselves at
pushed us away. By the time I crawled into bed,
the house was eerily silent. The usual nighttime, murmurs of
the farm cows shifting wind rattling.
The barn only made me more uneasy. every Creak sounded
menacing, every shadow threatening I Rose Before, Dawn,
not that I'd slept. I poured coffee and stared out
the window at the dark fields. The orphaned calf was pacing
near the fence. Letting out sorrowful cries,
that tore at my heart, it looked weaker, and no matter how many
times I looked away. I kept glancing back praying for
a mother that would never return.
That morning, my husband and I gathered family parents siblings
cousins from down the road, hoping to devise a plan.
They arrived shortly after sunrise and though it felt
strange to meet. So formally it reminded us how
serious things had become. Two cows missing, no leads and a
sense of dread clinging to our land.
Everyone offered theories, thieves Predators old folklore
about lights dancing in the halls or people Vanishing Into
the Woods. Normally our family avoids ghost
stories, but desperation was making us consider anything by
evening. I stood on the back porch,
scanning The Horizon for movement, it felt like the farm
itself was holding its breath waiting.
I wanted to March straight to the fence again, but my legs
refused. Whether it was fear or common
sense, I don't know. I pretended, I'd try to sleep.
Inside, I checked every door and window again and again peering
into the yard lights glow. The darkness Beyond seemed
endless and my heart hammered half, expecting to catch sight
of something slipping across the pasture.
I hated feeling so powerless. In a place, I once loved.
eventually I forced myself to sit in the dark living room,
letting my eyes, adjust was it foolish to keep poking around
knowing something dangerous might be out there.
But I couldn't just let it be. Two missing cows in the stifling
Menace In the Woods were reason enough to keep searching.
I resolved that in the morning I had rope in more help if I had
to know more tiptoeing around even if it meant heading back
into those trees with nothing but flash lights and a good dose
of fear, I needed real answers. I must have dozed off at some
point only to jerk away at a distant Rumble.
Thunder, maybe, or something else.
I never heard any storm. My pulse thundered, as I scan
the living room Shadows. eventually, I whispered a few
calming words to myself and curled tighter under a blanket
Dawn felt impossibly far away yet by Sunrise the farm looked
almost serene. The calf, lay still its energy
draining by the hour. I gathered supplies for another
search a mixture of determination and Dread boiling
in my stomach. This Land once a place of
comfort. Now, felt like a battlefield and
I was tired of waiting for the next strike.
I tried to imagine what might solve the mystery, maybe we'd
find a hidden Ravine or a gap in the fence.
Or maybe the truth was darker than any of us, dared guests.
Either way, I was ready to face it for the farm sake and for
ours never did. I expect, I'd walk away from
this property. It's been in my family for
Generations. A site of Summer, picnics and
Lively catalog actions, a piece of land.
I believed would always be mine. But these last few days changed,
everything. It started that morning right
after we agreed on one final search of the woods.
My sister? My husband.
And I prepared like we were heading into hostile territory.
Flashlights. Boots walking sticks.
We didn't talk much. We knew it was risky.
Maybe foolish, but we also knew we needed closure.
We crossed the fields at first light, do soaking our pants.
The missing cows calf, followed us to the fence bleeding
mournfully. It was losing weight and
stumbling and I wished I could do more than leave extra feed
yet. We had to see if anything in
those woods could explain how two cows had vanished.
Stepping over the barbed wire, felt like entering another
world. The air was thick, the trees
unnaturally tall and the forest floor strangely quiet.
My sister LED with her flash light, cutting a path through
brambles. My instincts screamed.
This was a terrible idea but none of us wanted to be the
first to back out. The farther we went the more we
noticed faint pops like distant, static echoing through the
trees. At first, we saw no real Clues.
No animal remains no Footprints, no sign of disturbance.
But the sense of being watched wouldn't let up.
Then we stumbled on a small clearing where the leaves were
scorched in a neat Circle as though blasted by intense Heat.
My sister felt a charge in the air and backed away.
My husband and I stepped closer but we found only charred leaves
and a suffocating heaviness that made it hard to breathe.
We stayed longer than we should have flash lights moving in
jittery arcs our hearts thudding in our ears.
The silence grew crushing. Not a single bird or Breeze, to
break it. We shared a look that said we
had to leave immediately. Turning to go.
We realized the trees seemed to have shifted as if blocking our
way out. My husband moved first
flashlight, trembling in his grip, until a sharp crack of a
branch froze, Us in place. The Shadows seemed to pulse.
My sister urged us onward. So we pushed through the brush
trying not to panic with each step.
I've heard stories about people seeing horrifying shapes or
floating lights in the wilderness, but we never
glimpsed anything solid. Instead it was the pervasive
sense of something closing in. Branches, snapped leaves rustled
but there was nothing to see. It felt like we were being
guided or hearded out. I kept checking over my shoulder
terrified. One of us would vanish if I
looked away too long. Stumbling back out onto our own
land was a shock like bursting through the surface after being
underwater. We gasped for air and the
sunlight unnaturally bright. My sister almost collapsed and
my husband steadied her. We all stared at the tree line
expecting to see a figure lurking, but there was only the
still of trees. We made our decision.
Right then no debate. No argument.
We hurried to the house Hearts hammering and legs weak even in
broad daylight, everything seemed ghostly after a rush
talk, we agreed. We couldn't stay waiting for the
next disappearance or the next moment of sheer Terror.
The farm had become a place of dread.
The rest of the day was a blur packing.
Our Essentials calling family arranging for the remaining
cattle. Nobody opposed our plan most
admitted, they too felt the looming threat.
A few relatives stayed behind long, enough to sell or move the
herd. Walking away from generations of
family. History, cut deep but not as
deeply as facing whatever was in those woods.
By Sunset, my sister, my husband and I were in our vehicles
driving off in a small Convoy. We didn't dare look back at the
house or fields. We had once cherished.
My hands Shook on the steering wheel and a voice in my head
warned me not to glance in the rearview mirror afraid.
I'd see something I could never forget.
We barely spoke on that drive, but our unspoken promise was
clear. We weren't coming back.
Fear, survival Instinct, whatever you want to call it.
We had reached our limit That Old Farm could keep its Secrets
whatever. Lurked there had claimed the
land for itself and we were done fighting I don't know if anyone
else will ever set foot on that property, or if future owners
will discover, what lies hidden in those trees.
All I know is that we left alive, but shaken searching for
any piece. We could find maybe these
memories will fade someday but right now, I still feel the echo
of that oppressive silence. And I have no intention of
letting it drag me back. I know, I'm just a random person
on Reddit. So there isn't any reason for
you to take my word at face value. nonetheless, I swear on
the life of my family that every word is true, this is going to
be a long post, but I want to be as detail as possible about this
event I'm a 32 year old man from and currently living in
Cumberland, County, New Jersey, this location puts me about 45
minutes away from Philadelphia and about 45 minutes away from
the Atlantic Ocean while being only about 15 minutes away from
the Delaware Bay, After High School.
I joined the army as an intelligence analyst for a
while. When I got out, I moved to New
York City and worked as a project manager for a
construction company until I met my wife.
We decided to move back to New Jersey, to be closer to our
families, especially since she was pregnant with our daughter.
That's just some background on me.
This happened in October of 2018, it was about 11:45 at
night. And I decided to sit on my front
steps to smoke a couple of cigarettes before trying to fall
asleep. Everyone else in the house was
already sleeping. It was a pretty clear night with
not many clouds in the sky, but there was some fog on the
ground. As I was smoking, I was looking
at the fog and to me it seemed like there was movement in it.
Almost as if there were invisible or camouflage things
out there that I wouldn't have seen if not for the fog.
While watching the fog, I noticed a white truck that had
driven by twice already. I could hear a man and a woman
yelling at each other. The truck stopped at the stop
sign in front of my house and the woman got out screaming at
the man. Then slammed the door, he drove
off fast and she proceeded to walk into the woods across the
street from me, which was strange because there's nothing
back there except for blue holes, until you reach the bay.
If I walk straight out my front door, there are no houses or
civilization. Only trees in those artificial
Lakes. Blue holes left over from Sand
plants until you hit the Delaware Bay.
About five minutes after the woman walked into the woods.
Things went from weird to absolutely unbelievably scary
and strange. The most reality shattering of
event that has ever happened to me.
I was still looking at the movement, I've been seeing in
the fog, when I heard a very loud noise coming from the
woods. It sounded like metal being
ripped apart. There isn't a good comparison
for this sound because it was so unearthly.
I'm sure it wasn't natural. That sound lasted about 10 to 15
seconds, then abruptly stopped and was replaced by another
noise, which I felt more than I heard.
Imagine being aware of a huge sound happening near you, but
it's at a frequency. Your ears can't quite pick up.
That's the best way I can describe it.
This sound remained constant through the rest of the
experience. At this point, I'll probably
lose some people. And I know how crazy this
sounds, but as I was getting used to the sound.
It felt like something reached out to me, mentally, without
words, conveying a feeling of calm and a heads up or warning
about what was about to happen. It felt as if it was checking my
reaction to what I was currently experiencing like a security
check. While I felt this sense of calm,
I noticed a light in the sky that seemed to have risen Out of
the Woods, maybe five or six miles away.
It was just a ball of light in the distance but somehow I knew
it was coming toward me, even though it wasn't moving very
fast right after noticing the light in the sky, I got more
freaked out than I have ever been in my life.
In the woods across the street from me.
No, more than 50 yards away, these orbs of light started to
appear. I could see some flicker into
existence. They were all white light which
didn't illuminate the area around them as you would expect
from flashlights. There were probably 12 to 16 of
these orbs and they moved in a totally smooth manner.
Besides the trail to get into the woods, the area is dense and
filled with Thorn bushes. So it just wouldn't be possible
for people to move where these lights were moving, let alone do
it. So smoothly, I'm positive.
They weren't people with flashlights because of the
terrain and the characteristics of the orbs themselves.
I watched the orbs move around for about a minute trying to
make sense of what I was seeing. Then I looked back up at the sky
and saw a craft coming practically, right toward me,
only about 1,000 yards away by that point, I was going back and
forth between watching the orbs on the ground in the craft,
which I could see more clearly now.
It was flying very low, maybe only three and a half to force
stories off the ground. I could see the path that was
taking and it was going to pass in front of me at an angle where
I see both underneath and the side at the same time.
The craft was a single story dull, black rectangle.
From underneath, I could see that it was made of three
smaller, rectangular panels that fit together to form a larger
rectangle. I very clearly saw these three
panels. estimating size is harder, but I would say it was
about 35 yards long and 20 yards across Underneath there were
lights flashing in a pattern cycling, one way.
And then back the other way, In the moment, I thought the craft
was signaling to the orbs on the ground.
It made no sound at all. I only heard that same buzzing
and humming noise that I felt more than I heard.
While it was in front of me. It moved really slowly that a
speed. I don't think a plane with
normal propulsion could manage while staying airborne.
I took my eyes off the craft for just a moment to look at the
orbs again. And when I looked back up, the
craft was gone. For whatever reason seeing it
vanished like that made the reality of what I was witnessing
hit home. I got really scared, especially
since my daughter wife and mom were all inside.
No. More than 50 feet from this
craziness. So I went in and locked the
doors. I felt I might have investigated
further if it were just my life at risk, but I wasn't willing to
take that chance with my family. I might have been paranoid at
this point, but I felt like I was being watched for the next
two hours. I didn't experience any lost
time the entire event happened over 20 to 30 minutes.
Looking back on this event. I question.
What was going on with the white truck and the woman who walked
into the woods at the beginning? I've also done some research and
found that there are quite a few reports of people.
Seeing a Glimmer Man in the woods which makes me think of
the movement I saw in the fog. Where I live is a very active
area for UFO phenomena which makes sense if something wanted
access to major cities like Philadelphia, New York, City,
Baltimore and DC. What could be a better place to
hide than almost inaccessible? 1,000 foot deep lakes in the
middle of the Woods? I know this was a very long post
but I wanted to be thorough. I'd really like to hear what you
all think about this and if anyone has had a similar
experience or knows somebody who has the following is a story
that happened to me about two years ago, I couldn't explain it
then and I can't explain it. Now I live in Oregon City
Oregon, a short drive south of Portland.
I'm on the outskirts somewhere between suburban and rural
housing. I have neighbors but they're not
exactly next door. I was 19 at the time of this
story. I used to have a problem with
sleep. I don't know what it was, but I
would get mentally crippling anxiety and I'd go for a walk to
calm my mind. I live on a single Lane Road
that follows a stream through the woods.
So the scenery mixed with the Quiet trickle of water was
always quite calming. It was summertime and it was a
particularly rough night for me. I remember telling my dad, I was
going for a walk as I slipped on my shoes and hurried out.
I still recall the worried look on his face as I tried to escape
my own mental panic. My late night walks were
becoming more frequent and I knew it concerned him.
Nevertheless, I shut the door behind me and proceeded into the
dark. I remember it being a clear
night, but I don't recall seeing Stars.
The moon must have been full because I could see the road
without a light, but I don't remember actually seeing the
moon either. I just started walking talking
to myself about everything that had my anxiety Spike.
I'm sure I looked insane rambling out loud but it
sometimes helped me process my issues.
From my home to the main road is about a mile.
I was about two thirds of the way there.
When I heard something rustle in the bushes to my right. this
wasn't uncommon, I had encountered dear raccoons, a
bobcat and even a few coyotes on my walks Still, I like to know
what was around, so I pulled out my phone and switched on the
light. For context, there's a hill to
my right that slopes upward. That's where I heard the noise.
To my left is about a 10 foot, drop down to the creek.
I shined my light into the bushes to see what I was dealing
with. Usually animals either freeze or
run off, which helps me figure out what they are.
But there was nothing no movement at all.
Suddenly my hair stood on end, I felt scared tense and realized I
should have been able to hear the creek trickling over the
Rocks, but I couldn't something was clearly wrong.
I heard a branch snap in the bushes again, I moved my light
back and saw two small, red lights like eyes looking right
at me. I shifted my phone to see if it
was a reflection, but it wasn't, then it started to get closer.
I ran. I freaking ran.
I ran in near silence. I don't know if I screamed.
Maybe it didn't matter. I couldn't hear my shoes,
hitting the road, my breathing, or even my heartbeat.
All I heard was what sounded like an animal with human bare
feet chasing me. Some Primal survival Instinct
told me to find light something bigger than my phone's light.
My first thought was home where there's a large barn light out
front that illuminates the whole driveway.
I ran like hell was on my heels because for all I knew it was I
just remember hearing it, get closer.
It felt like it was toying with me because it's footstep pattern
didn't sound like an all-out Sprint, more like a light
Gallup. It wasn't until I rounded the
last corner and could see the light that it suddenly picked up
speed and started closing in. I sprinted toward the light pole
as fast as I could. I heard it's Furious steps.
Come to an abrupt stop, but I didn't turn around.
I practically tackled that tar covered, wooden post clinging to
it. As I waited for the end, waiting
for whatever it was to tear me apart.
It never did. I stayed there for about an hour
in silence, until my phone rang. I had three messages and two
missed calls all from my dad asking where I was I lied and
said I fell asleep in a filled up the road.
Then I noticed, I could hear the world around me again, so I
assumed it was gone. I ran inside the house and
locked the doors. To this day.
I don't walk alone on my road day or night.
I know what you're probably thinking.
It was just your mind playing tricks or it was just an animal.
But I have seen animals. I know what lives around here?
Whatever this was it's not something I've ever encountered
before this whole experience made me reflect on other strange
incidents out here. Things like I couldn't explain a
fully grown deer burned from the inside out for instance.
The only visible clue was a single spot in his ribs where
the Flesh and Bone had burned through yet.
The rest of it looked perfectly preserved.
There have also been moments where I seem to slip Through
Time I'd set my alarm for 6 a.m. and wait outside for my ride.
For three hours, only to come back inside and find.
It was still just turning 5 a.m. I've seen shadow figures by the
side of the road, there have been a couple of unexplained
deaths. The list goes on.
I'm telling you something strange and terrifying is out
here. Some nights.
I wonder do my doors and windows, really, keep whatever
it is out. Or is it still just toying with
me edit if anyone has any ideas? What the hell I'm dealing with?
Please let me know.