My friends and I live where it's blisteringly hot in the summer.
So we got into kayaking and paddle boarding.
It's a natural remedy for the most brutal summer days over the
years. We've come to prefer certain
lakes rivers and even annual events.
The water Community itself is super cool and tight knit.
They plan all kinds of dope activities throughout the season
one. Pretty cool thing that they do
in our neck of the woods is the night paddles and the vibe of
these events can vary some are planned as late night excursions
Downstream where a team travels with minimal light at a nice
slow pace leaning on their skills and each other for
support to navigate the terrain. This is considered a pretty
dangerous Pastime, but the folks that organized it are top notch
many are search and rescue operators and they use these
events for training. The other type of night paddle
is more like a rave on the water.
Everybody decks out their board or kayak with all kinds of
lights and glow sticks even glow-in-the-dark paint.
They bring inflatable rings and rafts full of coolers speakers
all the stuff. You need to throw a party.
The Rave Knight paddles were more my style.
I made sure to attend at least one or two every year.
Where we live even at night temperatures can sometimes
exceed 100 degrees. Well as usual my friends and I
got invited to one of these we all agreed to go.
I got my paddle board all decked out and crafted some glow stick
props for the night and prepped all my gear.
However, by the time of the event every single one of my
friends had canceled some leading up to the day and the
rest just fail to show they all had good reasons.
I didn't take it personally, but I was still fully committed to
going solo. I drove out to the parking lot
secured a space and then offloaded all my stuff carrying
what I needed down to the shore. I wasn't drunk or higher or
anything. I'd only have a few beers with
everybody else once out on the water as I had to pack up my own
stuff and drive myself home. That kind of thing was fun, but
wasn't a reason to be irresponsible.
There were plenty of people in the parking lot and along the
shore. Down the Waterway more would be
showing up every hour you had to get there almost at Sunset to
get a decent parking spot. Otherwise, you'd have to drag
your gear for a quarter mile just to get to the water.
I loaded up my paddle board and set sail neon tube lights
lighting my way like a flagship for a good time.
Further down the river I could hear dance music blaring and
soon. I joined the crowd in a large
spacious body of water with enough room to fit a good 75
people or more. There were only about 20 or 25
so far but there were girls dancing on paddle boards just
like mine their body's lit up with every manner of glow stick.
I cracked a beer and settled in with my feet in the water
cheering and whooping to the music.
After an hour, the place was nearly packed brimming with
college-age coeds floating in every direction.
I linked up with a few people. I knew being such a frequent
participant. And soon I fell in with a crowd
of folks and felt right at home. We drank a bit played a little
floating beer pong under the Rave lights and danced our asses
off to the music. At one point I got in the water
a bit to cool off and enjoy the river.
I made a big show of falling backward off my board as the
punchline to a joke I made. When I fell into the water, I
felt something weird touching my back and shoulder.
It was only there for a second soft and kind of slick then it
swam away. I shot out of the water like a
bullet caught off guard by whatever was underneath there
was enough light and splashing that any fish or snakes or
whatever wouldn't be hanging around this pool.
If they were they were literally hiding near the bottom
somewhere. Critters have never been a
problem at the night paddles. I attended it was weird and I
mentioned it, but we all pretty much just brushed it off.
It's a river. It could be anything even just
some Driftwood regardless. It creeped me out.
I decided I just wanted to get out for a second.
I needed to take a leak anyway. I explained to everybody that I
was going to hit the shore for a minute.
I grabbed my flash light and hopped off my board deciding to
wait over it was supposed to be quick but I didn't take more
than five or six steps before I felt it again this time on my
shin. I knew it was something near the
bottom of the river. It was moving out of my way.
At this point weirded out. I brought my other Shin up to
bang it off and it felt like my leg touched an arm or something
similar. At this point I just thought it
was a massive fish. I got scared because I didn't
really know I clicked my flashlight on and pointed it
straight down. To my complete shock and
bewilderment. I saw a person looking back up
at me. He was in sparse snorkeling
gear, but I could make out the goggles the mouthpiece and he
even had fins on. I literally couldn't believe
what I was seeing as I started to call my friends over the guy
disappeared deeper into the water.
I called out and pointed the others lit him up with their
flash lights, too at this point. The guy knew he was caught came
up and played it cool. Everyone knew better though.
They just started laying into him.
I guess this guy had been caught at a time or two at events like
this. He was the equivalent of a
Peeping Tom watching girls underwater swimming around them
without them even knowing maybe even touching them who knows
heard about these little get-togethers and decided it was
a perfect place to get his rocks off.
The creepiest part of the whole thing at least for me was that
he would steal people stuff right off their paddle boards or
kayaks and then like hold it for ransom.
It's very common for people to lose all kinds of stuff from
glasses to wallets and keys phones.
You name it. And for other people to find it
later along the shore or places in the river people have even
found wedding rings years after they go missing.
Because of this little groups were created on social media to
help return the Lost items after these night paddle events.
A bunch of people would post their missing phones wallets,
whatever. This creep would respond because
he is the one who stole it. He was the one collecting
rewards from these people. I knew a few people specifically
women who had gotten their phone's back from this guy.
They all claimed that they were pretty sure someone had broken
into their phone. Like this guy was crying through
their personal stuff Texans pictures everything.
It's just a grim reminder that you can never be too careful.
You never know what kind of craziness people get up to even
in the middle of the night in the middle of a river.
My name is raw for the past few years.
I've held the position of Deputy team leader at the Breen
Mountain Rescue Team here in Wales. the bmrtwins1
our work is not just restricted to mountain or Wilderness search
and rescue for climbers and Hill Walkers.
Our skills are also deployed by the Welsh police to search for
vulnerable or missing persons on assignments where we can employ
our specialist medical and rescue techniques.
I've seen some pretty wild things during my time in the
rescue team some of which may be more distressing or disturbing
than others some more than I care to admit.
However, there's only been one incident in my entire career
that myself and my colleague have not been able to fully
explain. This is the story of that
incident. Mountain rescue teams can only
be called on the authority of the police a call is normally
initiated by the local force in response to a 999 call or the
report of a missing person. The team can be and usually is
called out at any time of day or night under any conditions.
Even on New Year's Day and Christmas Day.
The relevant police Personnel will initially alert the Rescue
Team by means of a pager or message a little outdated.
I know but it reflects the Slimmer than slim budget were
forced to work with year in year out.
Once the volunteers received their I will respond message.
The ball gets rolling. a team leader or Deputy team leader
will then discuss the details of the incident with the
coordinating police officers and decide on an appropriate
Rendezvous point and if any additional assets need to be
deployed These can include additional teams tracker dogs or
even helicopter support if the situation calls for it.
So I'm sitting in the Drover's arms pub with a few mates having
just finished watching one of their younger brothers represent
their High School in a rugby sevens match.
Their team won so Spirits were high.
We've just finished some dinner and I'm about to get stuck into
my first pint of the evening when my beeper goes off.
I won't lie. I was a bit annoyed.
I had really been looking forward to that pint but were
explicitly told to expect things like that such as the life of a
mountain rescue volunteer. Anyway, I let the lads know I
had to leave put my coat on and began the 10 minute walk up to
the small set of offices that serve as the bmrtwins1.
It's early on a Sunday night most calls seem to happen around
holidays and weekends and the place is empty.
So I unlocked the doors turned on all the lights and walked
down to my office to phone the police liaison officer to get
all the necessary details. As I'm talking to the officer in
question, my phone starts lighting up with text messages
from various other team members telling me they're on their way.
Everything was coming together nicely and the situation seemed
to be a usual basic search and rescue job.
A couple of hikers went up into the hills on Saturday intending
to camp overnight before heading back down on Sunday afternoon.
According to the person who had called it in the hikers hadn't
returned on schedule. Nor were they answering any of
their phones so they called us. Now on more than one occasion,
we've gotten calls from members of the public reporting missing
people who aren't actually missing at all.
Sometimes groups are slowed down by dodgy ankles or an upset.
Tummy or you know, something like that.
I get why someone might panic and it's always better to be
safe than sorry. That's why the BMX exists in the
first place. So it always helps when the
person making the call knows a little about the missing persons
group, especially if they know the intended route so we can
retrace or follow it to the best of our ability.
That'll help us potentially find them nice and quickly too.
If we can focus our search we don't need helicopter support
which saves us a huge amount of money.
I know that sounds callous, but we really do live and die on our
funding. So it's essential we keep the
purse strings tight. So I'm going through all the
core details with the liaison officer determining the group's
most likely whereabouts trying to figure out where they started
and where they could have gotten lost.
We go through all the usual stuff just like normal then move
on to the miscellaneous details that can often ate a search.
These can include any medical conditions that might bring the
person into difficulty age ranges and things of that
nature. You'd be amazed how tiny
seemingly insignificant details can help with the search.
So it's extremely important that we compile as much information
as possible as quickly as possible.
Only when I pressed the liaison officer for more information
regarding the emergency call itself.
Did she become awfully? Very little in the way of
details information could be passed along regarding the
missing group. The only significant detail is
that the woman who had reported the missing was absolutely
distraught when she did so The dispatcher had noted that no
matter what she did or said. She could not seem to reassure
the caller that their loved ones would be found.
The caller seemed convinced that the group of hikers was gone and
never coming back. Honestly, it's stuff like this
that has kept me in the BMR for so long being the hero that
people so desperately need at what for many is the lowest
point of their lives thus far. Less than an hour after the
initial beeper messages myself and four additional volunteers
had convened at the bmrtwins1. We did find something relatively
quickly after only 45 minutes worth of hiking up gently
sloping Trails, but it didn't fill us with confidence.
In fact, it did the very opposite.
We found a tent and empty abandoned tent.
Being a BMX volunteer sometimes means your basically a detective
you can use small pieces of a puzzle to build up a larger
picture of an overall situation. What we had before us was an
empty two-man tent but we were looking for a total of four
missing hikers. What was clear was that whoever
had set this tent up had been able to make it down into the
breed to report an emergency only.
They hadn't they had apparently gone back up the trail, but why
would they do such a thing? This escaped us completely.
This was the first really worrying sign but what was
obvious is that they had done so without even wearing their
hiking boots. So they had climbed up the
mountain Barefoot in the middle of the night.
That's definitely not good. This happened to be in the
middle of March not the coldest month of the year, but one which
brings strong winds to Central Wales. when chill can lower
ambient temperatures by almost half and tends to be the cause
of most cases of hypothermia we encounter A hiker can look
outside see a sunny day and assume fine weather.
But once they're up a mountain the wind can drop the
temperature into single digits and turned seemingly benign
situations into a deadly one. But it wasn't just hiking boots
that had been left behind either.
A fair amount of cold weather clothing had been left behind in
the tent along with what appeared to be a significant
amount of food and water. It was at that point that any
hope of getting through this rescue without having to call in
helicopter support went right out the window.
Whoever was lost out here needed help and quickly.
So we called it in and within a few minutes a search and rescue
helicopter had taken off from Neil Hall hospital with the
intention of flying the length of our proposed route our eye in
the sky was on its way. It was fully dark with no stars
by the time we made the call and shortly afterward.
We began to see red and white flashing lights moving westward
in the sky ahead of us the helicopters pilot and I
exchanged greetings as they tuned into our radio frequency
and I kept in touch with them as best as possible as we advance
along our route. What's more it didn't take long
before the co-pilot spotted something on usual just about a
mile or so ahead of us. According to the helicopters
crew they had spotted a person running along one of the
Mountain trails in the opposite direction.
We were heading they had tracked the individuals movement for a
moment or two before losing sight of them around a set of
Standing Stones. There are over 30 standing
stones in the beacon National Park.
Some of them are many centuries old and read in myth.
It isn't known exactly how many of the surviving standing stones
are prehistoric. Some appear to be memorial
stones and others seem to have had more than one function
either as boundary markers way marks on Ancient Trails
signposts or even rubbing stones for livestock.
But whatever their purpose was, we had our next Rendezvous point
one that we would have to reach quickly if we hoped to find our
missing persons in good health. It took about 45 minutes of hard
hill climbing before we reach the standing stones.
They formed a high rough circle of about five huge chunks of
granite Warn and misshapen by the elements according to the
helicopter's crew. The person they had been
tracking had run off the trail and into the standing stones
before disappearing from View. It was more likely that the
helicopter had simply let the person slip out of their
Searchlight and lost track of them.
But why a person in Peril would run away from the rescue chopper
and not towards it was a complete and utter mystery to
us. I mean, yeah stranger things
have happened on previous rescue attempts.
But this little conundrum certainly left a scratching our
heads as we began to search for Clues as to where the person
might have headed next. After a minute or two of combing
the area with only our personal torches for light one of the
many team members called over to me.
Behind this standing Stone said into a little hillock that was
obscured from view was a small opening in the earth.
I say small, but it was just big enough for a fully grown adult
to climb inside. And what was clear was that it
was the perfect place for someone to hide in and get away
from the biting Wind and Rain. I stuck my torch inside the
opening and peered inside only then seeing how deep the
passageway seemed to go. Whales used to be a hub for the
British coal mining industry and the country is now littered with
disused mining pits and shafts both ancient and modern.
Knowing this full. Well the underground passage
didn't strike me as unusual at first and I actually thought the
missing hikers were lucky that they might have come across
something like this to shelter them.
I called out down the opening checking to see if anyone had
slipped down the tunnel and had gotten themselves stuck while
trying to take shelter or something like that.
I received no reply. I then called over to one of the
other team members who had happened to carry the majority
of our climbing ropes. We harnessed him up staked
climbing pegs into the Earth just outside the entrance and
began to lower him into the opening to check for signs of
life. We lowered him down so far into
the Earth that I began to worry about the prospect of getting
him stuck. But thankfully we didn't have to
lower him any further before he found something.
He called out for us to pull him up alerting us that he had found
an item of clothing that possibly belonged to one of our
missing hikers. So we did just that we pulled
him back up took the item of clothing from him and lowered
him back down to continue looking.
As he did so I took a quick look at the jumper.
He had brought up and was struck by something on unusual about
it. It looked old really old.
Clothing exposed to the elements for long periods can end up
looking pretty rough, but not that rough.
It appeared as though it had been stuck down in that hole for
far too long. We didn't find anything else
down that hole or the rest of the mountain.
We stayed up there until about 3:00 in the morning long after
our helicopter support had to withdraw due to dwindling fuel,
but we didn't find a single thing.
No more clothes. No more signs of life.
And no more bodies the more it became clear that we weren't
going to find anything the more I thought about how the
distressed caller seemed convinced that the hikers were
gone. She had no way of knowing that
whatsoever yet somehow she was right and that really didn't sit
right with me at all. Throughout the next week, two
more search parties took to the hills in hopes of finding a
trace of our missing hikers both came back empty-handed.
I expected reports of the missing hikers to appear in
local news Publications only they didn't when I tried to find
out why I was turned away by most police sources until one
slipped that a judge at the high court of England and Wales had
placed a publication ban on the incident meaning an order
prohibiting publication under Section 11 of the contempt of
court act in 1981 was in fact keeping all news of the incident
out of newspapers, but that's not what really bothers me about
this whole thing. I mean, it's been confounding
sure but it's another peculiar details surrounding the case
that keeps me up at night the name stitched into the jumper we
found down that hole in the Earth was Robert Williams.
I came to find out that this didn't match any of the names.
We had been given regarding the missing hikers.
In fact, Robert Williams had been missing from a nearby town
of Neath since March of 2002. 17 years before our missing hikers
were reported. Who was it that our helicopter
support had spotted before they disappeared among the standing
stones. Was it one of our missing hikers
or was it in fact the long-lost Robert Williams?
Regardless I can't help but think I'll find the answers to
these questions at the bottom of that tunnel hidden somewhere
among those standing stones. The Pacific Northwest is a
paradise for outdoor enthusiasts and my boyfriend Eric and I are
no exception. The forests are so Lush and
dense. It's like walking through a
jungle coupled with the breathtaking Mountains and the
ocean turning it into a truly One of a Kind area many of us
just can't get enough of Eric and I tried to get outside for a
few miles at least once a week and I swear we never see the
same thing twice. We met in college bonding over
our shared love of hiking backpacking and paddle boarding.
If it happened outside we both wanted to try it.
Our adventures had taken us to some of the most breathtaking
spots in the region. We've always found that our time
in nature just brings us closer together.
Having a mutual love and admiration for the outdoors only
nurtures the bond that we share and it's been like that since
day one. That being said there are some
activities we do more than others.
Day hiking has kind of become our go-to hobby.
Thanks to its convenience and accessibility.
Paddle boarding is fun. But super involved camping is
great. But sometimes requires a lot of
time. We don't always have available
the more we Adventure the more we come to love one and done
trips that just burn up the miles as fast as possible.
We started as hobbyists and slowly whipped ourselves into
shape over time to the point that we actually had muscles and
pretty solid cardio. Hiking put us in the best shape
of Our Lives. We've explored countless Trails
each one offering a unique experience and a chance to
connect with the natural world. So when we heard about a natural
spring at the end of a long hike we knew we had to check it out.
There are all kinds of waterfalls forgotten Lake's and
Lookout points. We've hiked to and anything that
we heard about. The spring itself was rumored to
be a Hidden Gem tucked away inside a secluded Valley.
The hike would take all day, but the promise of a Serene View and
chili clean water was too enticing to resist.
And all day didn't necessarily mean hard the trail itself
actually had a pretty low rating in regard to difficulty.
We spent the week planning our trip pouring over maps and
online guides and preparing our gear.
Finally The Weeknd arrived we set off early and eager to hit
the trail. As we drove to the trailhead the
excitement was building up inside me.
I love the sense of adventure that comes with exploring a new
Trail and the fact that this one was a bit of a challenge in
terms of length only added to the Allure.
Eric and I had become experienced hikers over the
years. We were confident in our ability
to navigate the Wilderness especially here in our own
backyard. We'd spent so much time in this
area that we used to joke that it was impossible for us to get
lost. Once we arrived at the trailhead
I felt this sense of relief and adrenaline at the same time.
The parking lot was almost empty a good sign that we'd have the
trail to ourselves. I have a bit of a complex when
it comes to our hiking. I don't like it to be a
spectacle. I don't like sharing every
little step of the path with people.
I don't know. I know it sounds entitled, but I
go the distance to just be alone not brushing shoulders with
people. Just trying to take photos.
We got our packs together loaded up on water and snacks and
immediately hit the trail the first mile or so was just
stunning like walking through a jungle.
The trees were tall and green their leaves rustling in the
gentle breeze. The trail itself was narrow and
winding but well marked. So we made pretty good progress.
But as we hiked deeper into the woods the Trail began to get
harder and harder to follow. It splintered off in different
directions and in some places it seemed to disappear altogether.
Eric and I exchanged a look at one point our excitement
changing into curiosity. Bushwhacking a trail was nothing
new for us and we welcome the challenge.
We pulled out our little handmap and took a bearing pressing on.
Hard to follow Trails aren't really uncommon here or really
anywhere just a factor of the terrain.
Some areas encourage people to wander in all directions and
when this happens the trail gets diluted and seems to go in every
direction. This had been the case in this
area to the point that the main trail turned into a ghost of
itself and we really struggled to follow it.
We just pushed on with it and did our best.
After another hour or so. We were 99% sure that we'd been
successful. The trail seemed to re-establish
itself along the correct route deeper into the valley.
Either way, the place was breathtaking and had my
attention pretty much held hostage.
I didn't care. If we were lost the way back to
the car was clear as day. It would take miles and miles of
unknown navigating for us not to know where the car was.
As we continue on the trail the beauty of the Wilderness in us
once again. The trees towered above their
leaves rustling in the gentle breeze.
We walked hand in hand taking in the sights and sounds of nature.
There was Water Somewhere far off like The Echoes of a
waterfall and it was carried up to us.
We lost ourselves in the woods just soaked it in one beautiful
step at a time. Soon after this we found
ourselves inside a small grassy clearing surrounded by three or
four different Trails breaking off in multiple directions.
A large wooden signs stood in the center, but it was old and
vandalized. The letters were feted and
pretty much unreadable. This was a rest stop that we'd
been counting on as its well marked online.
Everybody said this was the intersection of many different
trailheads. One would lead to the spring one
to the Riverway and several just went up towards a jagged rock
bass that offered absolutely beautiful views.
The problem was we wanted the spring specifically and without
the sign we didn't know which way to go.
Great. Eric said with frustration
etched on his face. Now what?
I pulled out our handmap, but it really wasn't much help the
trail seemed to twist and turn in every direction.
It was pretty disheartening both thought the trail would clean
itself up and get more defined alas.
It was more diluted than ever. Just then we noticed a man
sitting on a log across the clearing dressed in Warren
hiking gear. His face was weathered from
years of exposure to the elements.
We shared a wave and Eric and I approached him.
He smiled pretty much right away seemed friendly enough.
Like I mentioned earlier I wasn't fond of approaching
strangers, but this was pretty much our only option in the
moment. So I was actually grateful to
see a friendly face out there. Especially one that might have
directions for us. Hey there.
Eric said his voice almost jolly.
We're trying to get to the spring.
Can you help us out? The stranger looked up at us his
eyes squinting in the sunlight. Ah the spring.
Yeah, it's a beauty Eric and I nodded can you get us there?
He asked. Um, yeah sure.
He said his face was weird though.
He was kind of looking all around not really making eye
contact when he said this I didn't know what to think other
than it was weird. Maybe he wasn't very social.
Maybe there was a mosquito buzzing around his face.
Who knows he said he had the directions and that's really all
that mattered to me. Great.
I said relieved. We're having a bit of trouble
finding it the trails out here are pretty.
Unclear The Stranger nodded his eyes a light with a knowing
look. Yeah, it can be tricky but I can
help you out. The trail that you want is the
one to your left. It'll take you straight to the
spring. He pointed down the trail that
he indicated giving additional directions.
State of the left don't go over the Bolder stay left of that
too. And when it Forks follow it
uphill not downhill, even though the downhill side looks more
promising. He explained that we had to hike
a series of ascending switchbacks that would route the
Hillside and then write to the spring which was tucked back in
the farthest slot of the canyon. Thanks.
Eric said his voice grateful. How far is it though?
The Strangers smile was cryptic in the moment.
Oh, it's not far just a few miles.
You'll see some landmarks along the way so keep an eye out for
an old oak tree with the carved initials.
That'll let you know that you're on the right path.
I don't know why but I felt a shiver run down my spine as we
thank the stranger and continue on our way.
There was something about him something unsettling that just
didn't quite add up. The more he spoke the less he
looked at us once he did he was looking at my legs it gave me
the creeps. I said thanks anyway and
followed Eric down the path super glad to have him with me.
Otherwise, who knows with that guy.
He just had that energy of someone up to no good.
As we walked the forest seemed to grow darker the trees
twisting and turning in ways that seemed almost Sinister.
I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched that
unblinking eyes were trained on us from somewhere out in the
shadows Eric. I whispered my voice barely even
audible. Do you hear that?
He looked at me his eyes questioning here what that right
there. It's like crunching or
something. I could hear it somewhere behind
us inconsistent distant crunching off in the tree line.
It sounded like walking but I couldn't tell if it was too
legit or four it stood out to me because we hadn't heard or seen
anybody throughout this entire time.
So a person all of a sudden hiking parallel to us was pretty
strange. He Shrugged his expression
reassuring. It's the woods babe.
It's normal to feel a little spooked.
But I knew what I heard and it wasn't just the woods.
Either way. I pressed on eager to put some
distance between myself and whatever was lumbering around
behind the trees. There are various Predators out
here, of course snakes and spiders and Eric and I have had
our fair share of encounters with them.
I didn't get the vibe that it was any kind of animal like that
around though as the birds and bugs continue to bustle around
making noise. Usually once a predator enters
the area everything moves on or gets quiet what whatever it was.
I was the only one who found it creepy.
We hiked for another mile or so enjoying the terrain and Views
inside that area. The Sun was shining and birds
were singing their sweet melodies.
But as we walked that feeling came back the feeling of being
watched. Throughout this time.
I kept looking behind us and that's when I saw him the man
from earlier sneaking through the brush following us.
Eric look I whispered tugging on his arm.
He turned just in time to see that guy creep back into the
foliage. What is it?
He asked. That guy from earlier.
He's following us. I said my heart racing.
I was sure that it was him. He was a ways off.
I would say a good quarter mile, but the slope we just climbed
gave me a great Vantage. I pegged him the second I saw
him. You couldn't miss these scruffy
clothes that torn up red backpack same haircut and beard.
I mean, he was the only person we'd seen out here who else
could it be? Eric immediately Shrugged It Off
Baby, he is probably just out here hiking.
Like we are he has just as much right to be out here as we do.
I know what I saw and I know it didn't feel right.
The guy was trying to keep hidden at a half Crouch sticking
close to the brush and branches. I kept a close eye on the trail
behind us my senses on high alert.
This is exactly why I don't like hiking with people.
I don't know. Another Mile and we encountered
another couple hiking in the opposite direction.
To me for the first time ever. It was a godsend.
They were using the trail and going the opposite direction
looked totally normal. I was relieved to have
strengthened numbers just in case that guy decided to pop out
waving a knife or something. We asked them how much further
the spring was. They looked at us with complete
confusion. You're not on the Spring Trail.
They said this is the Lookout Trail it gets seriously steep in
about a half a mile. It starts to climb up the canyon
wall. My heart immediately sank.
We'd been walking for close to two hours and now we were on the
wrong trail. We went back and forth with them
for a while just to clarify what they were saying and where we
were. Super disappointing only added
more confusion and creepiness to the situation that I believe we
were in. I mean, it's obvious, right?
That guy back at the rest. Stop was not making eye contact
with us because he was giving us bad directions or in other words
lying out his ass. Now here was the real question
was he just messing with us or was he setting us up for
something weird? I was grateful for the honesty
of the couple as it told me they weren't involved with that guy
at all. Thanks for letting us know Eric
said his voice laced with frustration the other couple bid
us farewell and then disappeared around the bend.
I gave them a brief warning about that guy down there just
saying that he gave us bad directions and that he was now
coming up behind us. They agreed it was weird and
they would keep an eye out as well.
Eric and I stopped for a moment. Just taking inventory of where
we were now how far we'd gone. I think Eric just wanted to
settle and take the situation in alone.
I mean we were out of options a lot of the day had gone by so
the spring was probably off the table now.
We just needed to decide if we were committing to the Lookout
Point or turning back now for something else.
We wait our options for 10 minutes or so long enough for me
to forget about scanning the trail and that's when we both
heard it the shutter of a camera.
It was so jarring that we literally stopped talking and
looked back at one another when pale in the face.
I could tell now Eric was suddenly on board with the
strangeness. I'd been talking about.
We both looked up to see that stranger from earlier hiding
behind the trees and branches. He had a camera and he was
snapping photos of us my blood immediately ran cold.
And I know this sounds weird but stuff like this is literally my
nightmare. What a weird creepy thing to do
with people. You don't know in the woods.
It implies a mindset that I can't fathom.
When I think about it, it's still makes my skin crawl.
What the hell Eric exclaimed his voice angry.
He is normally a very level guy, but I could tell he was seeing
in just ready to go ballistic. Get away from us.
I shouted my heart racing. I shouldn't have said anything,
but I wanted to match Eric's energy do my best to get this
guy out of here the stranger didn't move his eyes just fixed
on us with this unnerving intensity.
It's not like we were trapped or anything, but we were alone with
this guy in the wilderness and he was within 30 yards now.
He never said a single word. We just heard the shutter a
couple more times. Dude, what the hell is your
problem? Why did you give us bunk'd
directions Eric asked. This time the guy laughed a
little snapped another photo and then disappeared behind the tree
trunk. Remember, this is the Pacific
Northwest the area that we found ourselves in was beyond thick
overgrown to the point of jungle status. hugely leaves blanketed
branches This guy vanished like a ghost right in front of our
eyes. Now we were both officially
creeped out and Eric did not want to go off Trail and risk
getting injured or something with us being far from the car.
We just turned around and started that long slog back to
the car. It was something like four
miles. We took this as a hard defeat,
but on the surface, we were just glad to not have anything worse
happen. I don't know what that guy was
capable of we didn't hear or see him again after we turned
around. We made it back to the parking
lot and didn't see another soul. We drove back home and theorized
what the hell that guy was about this all took place a few years
ago and still to this day. I wonder why he took those
photos and more importantly what he did with them.
It almost makes me ill thinking there could be photos of me
floating around out there pictures that I'll Never See.
The sun fell below the mountains as I settled into my solitary
post to top Pine Ridge my home for the summer as a fire lookout
worker. I enjoyed the isolation crisp
Mountain Air vibrant sunsets and the occasional of wildlife in
the underbrush a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the
city. This was my Sanctuary a small
cabin with a panoramic view of the forest stretching endlessly
in every direction. As Darkness took the forest.
I turned on my oil lamp. its warm glow flickered against the
wooden walls the radio crackled with static a reminder that I
was connected. However tenuously to the world
below I kept my log book nearby jotting down the days
observations and checking in with the ranger station all
clear. I reported feeling a sense of
pride in my responsibility, but tonight felt different.
A dense fog rolled in as the sun's sank creeping up the trees
like a ghost swallowing the last hints of daylight.
Appeared through my binoculars scanning the sprawling Woods
that now seem to swirl with shadows.
The sound of rustling leaves filled the air louder than
before as if the forest was alive and Whispering Secrets.
I couldn't quite decipher. Around midnight my ease exploded
into full-blown Terror. It started subtly a Flicker at
the edge of my vision. I turned quickly convinced.
I'd see an animal or perhaps the wind playing tricks on me, but
there was nothing there. I returned to my logbook
dismissing it as fatigue. Sleep had been elusive these
past few nights and the shadowy edges of my mind were beginning
to fray. Then the first cold thump echoed
through the cabin. I held my breath.
It was followed by two more deliberate and rhythmic thumbs.
Someone something was knocking on the wooden exterior of the
lookout. Goosebumps prickled my skin as I
glanced around my heart pounding.
The sound was organized almost as if it was trying to get my
attention. Hello.
I called out trying to sound unafraid.
Is anyone there? Silence yet, the knocking
resumed louder more insistent each thwack resonating through
my bones. I peered out the small window
straining to see through the fog the trees loomed like Sentinels
blocking any trace of movement. Was it the wind an animal
testing the boundaries of my sanity.
I returned to my desk telling myself.
I was alone and began to write again.
Hoping to drown out the sounds. But then I heard a soft voice
Whispering my name barely audible over the howling wind.
Claire Chills cascaded down my spine.
My name echoed in The Emptiness its source lost to the night.
Who's there? I explained Panic rising in my
throat Show Yourself. The answer came as the cabin
violently shook rattling to the very Foundation the knocking
morphed into thunderous blows as if something immense were trying
to break through the walls. I left to my feet gripping the
table for stability the lanterns flame dancing wildly threatening
to extinguish. Stop it.
I shouted eyes wide and frantically searching for
anything to explain this madness in my mind.
I replayed every horror story I had ever heard about fire
Lookouts ghosts of past Rangers lost souls wandering the woods
seeking Revenge. I couldn't let those stories
control me. I had to remain calm but the
voices grew louder overlapping in a cacophony that filled my
ears. Claire help us were trapped.
I stumbled back heart racing Terror flooding my senses.
The air grew thick and heavy the temperature dropping is if I had
entered a tomb against my better judgment.
I opened the door desperate to confront whatever had invaded My
Sanctuary the fog swirled in cold and biting wrapping around
me like icy fingers. Show yourself.
I yelled into the void. But all I saw were the
intimidating silhouettes of trees their branches reaching
out like skeletal hands clutching at the sky.
Then in the dense fog, I spotted them figures emerging silently
pale and translucent. Their faces were etched with
anguish and fear. They moved slowly toward me mere
shadows in the night, but their eyes were piercing.
I could feel their sorrow deep within my chest.
Please help us one whispered echoing inside my skull.
I stepped back stumbling over the threshold my breath
hitching. What happened to you.
I asked desperation spilling from my lips.
Trapped The Voice reverberated a mournful chant that resonated
with the woods essence. We cannot leave you must help
us. The figures advance and I could
feel their pain washing over me like a wave.
I realized then that they were lost souls perhaps victims of
past fires or tragedy forever haunting this landscape.
I wanted to run to lock the door, but a force held me in
place compelling me to listen. Tears filled my eyes as I
searched for Words something to ease their suffering.
What can I do I asked voice trembling?
They seemed to unite in a Whisperer, but I couldn't
understand it something about breaking a barrier.
Their voice is a haunting Melody wrapped around my heart.
The weight of their Collective grief bore down on me and I
thought about the Fire season the control towers and what I
had learned that the woods were fragile their Spirits woven into
the fabric of nature. The only way to help them I
realized was through acknowledgment of their
existence and understanding of the life and death that occurred
in the very tree surrounding me. Heart pounding.
I returned to the cabin moved to the center of the room and
declared. I see you.
I hear you. I acknowledge your pain.
I repeated it over and over my voice carrying into the
emptiness. Slowly their forms began to
dissolve warmth flooding the air and the sorrow in their voices
faded into a gentle whispering Breeze.
The voices turned into a murmur and then slowly drifted away
leaving the cabin on bothered by their long haunting presents.
As Dawn broke the fog lifted and I could see the sprawling
expanse of the forest. Exhausted yet.
Somehow relieved. I took a deep breath knowing
that Pine Ridge would always carry the weight of those lost
souls even as it stood guard over the living.
Some nights as I sit alone in my Lookout I hear the rustle of
leaves in Whispers In The Wind a reminder of that chilling night.
I learned to listen not just with my ears but with my heart
And sometimes when I'm in solitude with my mind the cries
of the Lost become an echo of Hope.
To those willing to hear you should always remember.
There are strange things in this world, but sometimes a small bit
of compassion can make everything, okay?
at least for the time being I know it's a bit of a stereotype,
but I've always heard it's hard to make friends as an adult.
I never really took this into consideration until I was close
to becoming a fat middle-aged loner.
I've lived in the same little Community for many years after
the kids moved out. It was just me and the wife many
of the guys. I call Buddies had moved on to
the city gotten arrested or simply lost interest in being
friends anymore. suddenly, I had a lot of free time lots of stuff
I wanted to do but nobody to do it with my wife and I have our
own hobbies and date nights mainly going to the movies, but
when it came to outdoor recreation, I was largely on my
own. My wife thinks activities like
hunting and fishing or gross in our kayek.
She's a girly girl and I love her for it.
About 10 years ago. I did the unthinkable.
I made a friend. He was actually a guy I'd known
around town but one day at the tackle shop, we started
exchanging info regarding fishing spots and other stuff
like that. We decided to plan a trip out
together. We've been fishing buddies ever
since my friend's name is Scott and my wife calls him my
mistress, which is pretty funny. Anyway, Scott and I are river
fishermen. We hit the lake sometimes if we
have the itch, but for the most part we stick to the moving
water. It's more fun and more isolated.
Typically yielding a better catch too.
I compare fishing a lake and fishing a stream to driving an
automatic or a manual. Sure, they both get you from A
to B. But one of them is just more
fun. This particular trip was just
like all the rest. Scott swung by and scooped me up
around 5 a.m. Just Before Sunrise.
We buzzed out of town and Into the Woods.
There are all kinds of Old Logging and Service Roads that
cut through the forest around here and Scott had the wise idea
one day to get Google Maps out to see which one got us closer
to the river. Not an actual parking lot near
the stream but a place we could park along the road kind of in
secret then hike back to the water itself.
This way we'd come up on part of the stream that others couldn't
access hopefully tapping into a source of fish that were
otherwise unknown. Sure enough, he found a perfect
little place way back in the Woodland where very few people
knew the water cut through at all.
Man, I love this time of day Scott said his voice low and
Gravelly as we drove down that Winding Road.
World still waking up and we're already out here getting our day
started. I grunted in a agreement sipping
at my coffee as the darkness outside seemed to press in on
us. We've been coming out here for
years at this point, but it never really got old.
There's just something about being in motion when the rest of
the world is still asleep. It's like I know a secret that I
can't share. It's hard to explain but I've
always loved being an early riser.
Scott not so much but his love for fishing overrides his
laziness so he gets his butt in gear when he needs to.
You know, I was thinking Scott said his eyes fixed on the road
ahead. We should come back again
tomorrow before the holiday weekend.
I'd be down for that. I replied my eyes scanning the
darkness outside, but we'd have to find a way to make it work
with our schedules. As we drove the trees seemed to
close in around us their branches creaking ominously in
the Wind. Scott worked for the town.
I own my own small business. So throughout the week.
We stayed pretty busy typical old guy stuff, you know.
Almost there Scott said looking out over the dash.
Hurried up I joked with him. Finally, we arrived at the spot
where we usually parked. It was just this little hairpin
of a turnout barely enough room to park his truck but very few
people drove out this far and it was still pretty early in the
morning. We didn't expect to see anybody
until the afternoon if at all. We took a moment to bundle up in
the cab put our fingers in front of the heater one last time and
took a final sip of coffee before we pushed out into the
wilderness. We unloaded our gear and started
the Trek to the forest our flash lights casting Eerie Shadows on
the trees. We went light just a couple of
Creole bags our rods and what ever food and water we packed
ourselves for the day. It's easier to fish a stream
with light tackle as you constantly find yourself moving
up and down the creek hopping rocks and maybe even climbing
trees just to get a little better Vantage over the water.
I love this part Scott said his voice barely above a whisper.
It's like we're the only two people in the world.
I nodded my heart pounding in my chest.
We walked in silence for a few minutes the only sound being the
rustling leaves beneath our feet.
I'm not really afraid of animals or the darker or anything for
that matter, but I am afraid of circumstances that dark Trek
through the trees was only a little unsettling for me because
if something bad were going to happen, that would be a damn
good time for it to happen. We each kept a firearm most
outdoorsmen do but it wouldn't be any use of a mountain lion
decided to stalk us through the dark or if we accidentally
stepped into a snake pit. We did our best just to follow
that same little strip of terrain trip after trip year
after year and hope for the best.
It had been working for us so far at least.
We stumbled along until we could almost hear water, which always
put my mind at ease. We were more than halfway at
this point. We used this big old ugly tree
as a kind of Waypoint to let us know of our progress.
I lit it up with the flashlight and took in the gnarled old form
that dead gray trunk reaching up into a black Mall in the early
morning sky. Then that's when we saw them a
pair of boots unlaced and upright sitting at the base of a
tree. My heart skipped a beat as I
felt sweat come to life along my back and forehead.
In all the years that we'd been coming out to this area.
We'd never seen any evidence of another human.
Not even so much as a piece of trash or a boot print absolutely
nothing. So to see something so personal
out there. It was really weird.
What the hell Scott breathed his eyes fixed on those boots.
He didn't move a muscle almost looking like he was expecting a
person to jump out from behind the tree at any point.
I shook my head my mind racing with possibilities who would
leave their boots out here and why?
It seemed like a delicate thing to just leave behind especially
in the dark. But what did I know they could
have been sitting here for a week.
Never to be picked up again? It gave me this Eerie feeling
that maybe something had happened to somebody out here.
We stood there for a moment our flash light beams fixed on the
booths. They seemed so out of place like
a piece of a puzzle that just didn't quite fit.
Well, that's weird. Scott said finally his voice low
and cautious. I nodded my eyes scanning the
surrounding area. Yeah, it definitely is.
We looked at one another and I could sense the unease in
Scott's eyes, but we didn't say anything more.
We didn't need to we both knew this was something strange
something that didn't belong in our little slice of wilderness.
We stood quietly and strained our ears for anything strange
anything out of place. The silence stretched on for
what felt like forever interrupted only by the
occasional chirp of a cricket or small bird waking up to the
Early Morning Light. Let's just leave them Scots said
finally his voice decisive. Maybe they belong to somebody
and they'll come back for them. I nodded and we can continue our
Trek through the forest. Now as we walked that silence
seemed to grow thicker like a fog that clung to our skin.
We didn't talk about the booths anymore.
We didn't need to I know we were both thinking the same thing
that it's something strange, but ultimately maybe it's nothing at
all. After all, it was just a pair of
shoes. It's not like we found a severed
head or something. Finally we emerged from the
trees and saw the river stretching out before us calm
and peaceful the first Rays from the sun glinted off the water
like a thousand tiny diamonds. We stood there for a moment
taking it in then we split up each of us finding our own spot
to fish. We didn't go far.
I would say maybe 50 feet or so far enough that we wouldn't have
an issue getting our lines Tangled but also close enough
that we were both within earshot as the day went on.
We'd move further and further from each other sometimes a mile
or two just to get all the good fishing that we could buy.
Midday. We'd start working back towards
one another have lunch and then hit the river for another hour
or two before heading back to the truck.
As I cast my line into the water.
I felt a sense of Peace wash over me.
This was what I loved about fishing the quiet the Solitude
the sense of being completely alone in the world and yet as I
stood there I couldn't shake that feeling that I was being
watched. I kept an eye on the other side
of the river looking for anything along the bank that
just might be out of place. I imagine seeing Footprints
scampering through the mud, but I didn't find anything.
Hey Scott, I called out my voice low and Casual you see anything
weird. There was a pause and then
Scott's voice came back equally casual.
No, man, just the usual, you know fish trees water.
I nodded even though he wasn't looking at me.
Yeah, me too. We stood there in silence for a
few minutes the only sound being the gentle lapping of the water
against the shore. And then without warning a fish
bit my line. My heart skipped a beat just
like it does every time I get a bite.
Muscle memory took over from there drop.
Hold Yang real. After a few good turns.
I knew I had him fighting left right down up before finally
giving up and letting me haul him in.
Yeah, I exclaimed my voice loud and triumphant.
I got one. Nice, let's see it Scott's voice
came back equally as excited. I grinned my heart pounding with
excitement. I hoisted it up and let's Scott
have a look though. It was only about 12 inches
long. Not a trophy by any sense of the
imagination. It was proof that there were
fish here and they were biting. A good omen if you will.
I got it off the hook and released it per usual.
It's always been a little weird Superstition of mine.
Let the First Catch of the Day go so he can tell the others
that were merciful. The hook is safe to bite.
I know it's silly but it's just more old man thinking.
The sun came up, but Scott and I didn't move yet.
Catching a fish that early meant we were in the right place at
the right time. So we wanted to fish this pool
raw before moving on. I cast out a few more times and
tried some different jigging patterns, but got nothing.
Scott however had a couple of bites and on the third landed a
decent sized trout something like 18 inches.
I kept my line in watching as he worked to get the hook free.
I wanted to see if he would put it on the trout line and keep it
or not. What happens next is one of the
weirdest things I've ever seen. As I watched Scott work the line
in the hook. I caught movement across the
river in my periphery. It was so quick and small that I
didn't even look over at first, but the moment it stirred.
I remember getting this dizzy almost sick feeling.
I knew whatever was moving shouldn't be and honestly, I
think I was afraid to look. It was moving backward and
quickly disappearing into the foliage and then it all went
still. This all happened in a matter of
a few seconds then before I could shout any kind of warning
something came flying out of the brush over the stream and right
at Scott. I thought it was a bird at first
almost giving me a sense of relief but as it started to Arch
back towards the ground. I knew it was an object a rock
or a stick something like that. It hits Scott right in the chest
and I could tell it scared the crap out of him.
He froze up totally rigid from top to bottom then dropped both
the fish and his rod and scrambled back from the water.
What the hell was that? I hollered over setting my rod
down and slowly approaching. I pointed across the water.
It came from the other side of the river.
Scott took a moment to gather himself then stood up and
scanned his little alcove. I think it was a rock.
He said as he looked around whatever it was it was heavy.
Our eyes naturally wandered across the water scanning for
anything and everything. I don't pack much heat when
we're out there just this little snub 38 Special even then half
the cylinder is full of snake shot.
If I came up on anything small I could take care of it but much
more than a coyote. It's probably a goner.
Scott on the other hand carried his baby out there a wood
handled stainless steel 0.44 Magnum a real showstopper.
He kept a hand on it as he checked the surrounding area.
We took another moment to compare notes and I told him
what I saw and he told me what he felt.
Whatever the case and whatever happened there was nobody to
point a finger at we started entertaining weird theories.
Maybe some kind of Rogue water current pushed a rock up and it
flipped out of the water maybe a raccoon through one.
It was hard to be sure of anything when it happened so
fast, we went back to doing really the only thing that we
could fishing the river. This time we really didn't watch
the water. Just kept our eyes up for
anything weird. We stood a little closer to each
other this time. I wanted to mention the booths,
but I also didn't want to spoil the trip with fears and worries.
I kept my concerns to myself and just did everything I could to
enjoy the peace and quiet that would soon only be a Daydream.
However, I'd say maybe an hour later.
I caught a little movement a little disruption across the
river that I almost didn't look up for again thinking about the
incident earlier I decided to look.
To my horror. I saw a sliver of a guy looking
back at me. He was shirtless dirty barely
peeking around the tree trunk across the river.
I froze in place and did my best to pretend not to see him.
When I let my eyes flip back to the guy he was gone.
Now. I knew who threw that rocker.
I crept down to where Scott was and not a nodded to get his
attention. He came over and asked me what
was up. I think I just saw somebody
across the creek I said. What fishing he asked agitated?
He looked around and started scanning the area.
No, no, he looked like a kid and he didn't have a shirt on I
clarified how old Scott asked. I don't know maybe 21.
We both looked back over the water.
There was nothing there. We agreed the whole thing was
weird packed up and just headed Downstream a bit.
This turned out to be a mistake. Truly.
I wish we'd gone the other way Upstream what we found
Downstream ruined that trip and sent us packing back to the
truck. We came around a bend and saw
this beautiful pool one that we fished often.
In one of the shallow Sandy basins though.
There was what looked like gallons of blood all in the
water. because the pool was so big Placid areas formed along
the shores where the water moved a little less and so debris or
whatever could actually choked up there much like the blood was
doing we both stopped in place looked at one another and just
shook our heads. At the foot of that Shoreline I
swear to God there must have been 100 massard fishes all
sizes. All different species all gutted
inside out some smashed to a pace others chopped up it took
up the whole Shoreline the water everything was painted with
blood and organs and the gutted fish showed us that whoever did
this was human. No bear.
No Eagle. No animal at the time would do
this. It just creeped us the hell out.
We had a brief conversation added everything up and decided
it wasn't worth it. We packed everything up turned
back into the Woodland and didn't even bother eating lunch
just to hopefully create a little more distance.
This wasn't the same route back through the woods that we
usually took so we were a little off course, but still had a
pretty good idea of the direction we needed to go.
We kept a steady hand on our guns as we walked through the
trees looking over our backs every few feet.
As we got closer though, we had an itch.
Scott had mentioned it before and we both wanted to walk over
to the old dead oak tree see if those boots were still there.
It was only 10 maybe 20 minutes off course.
So we redirected ourselves and started cutting a path.
As I'm sure you can imagine we got to the tree and there wasn't
any sign of those boots. In fact, there was evidence of
water in the dirt at the base of the trunk like a person who was
wet from the waist down had been standing there.
We knew then that that person had crossed the river by foot
had come back and gotten his boots.
We chalked it up to a hunter or Woodsman.
Just having a rough night. When we got back to the road, we
still hadn't seen anybody else. There were no cars parked near
us. So we really didn't know what to
make of it all. I mentioned calling it into some
kind of agency, but Scott said no.
The guy was throwing rocks. He can find his own way back.
We left never saw that guy again, but I can say that was
the weirdest fishing trip of my life.
We ended up hearing later there had been this big college party
blowout a couple of nights before.
Search and rescue was even called.
Some of the guests took hallucinogens had wandered off
and got seriously lost. We thought maybe it was a
leftover straggler from that. But even then what the hell was
he still doing out there gutting fish by the Dozen the experience
left us both shaken and with a lot more questions than answers
every fishing trip. After that.
We were more cautious more aware of our surroundings and frankly
less inclined to stray too far from familiar Waters.
The Wilderness had always been a place of solitude and respite
for us, but that day it revealed a darker more unpredictable
side. As we drove back home, the
silence between us was Thicke each lost in our own thoughts.
The usually Lively banter about our caches and The One That Got
Away was absent instead. There was a mutual understanding
that we had just experienced something out of the ordinary.
Something that neither of us could easily brush off.
In the weeks that followed I kept a Keen Eye on the local
news half expecting to hear about a missing person or some
bizarre incident in the woods similar to what we had
encountered. But there was nothing.
No reports. No follow-ups.
No closure. It was as if what we had
witnessed was isolated entirely to our own reality.
A chilling thought that made the woods seem even more vast and
secretive. Scott and I discussed the
possibility of going back perhaps with more people or even
notifying the local authorities to have them check the area but
deep down we knew that whatever had happened was probably long
gone. swallowed up by the dense unyielding Forest Our fishing
trips continued but we never ventured back to that particular
spot. The memory of those Eerie
discoveries boots blood and all was enough to keep us from
trying our luck there again. Eventually, we found new spots
new routines. The rivers and streams still
called to us and we answered but always with that lingering
unease in the back of our minds. The woods were no longer just a
backdrop for our angling Adventures.
They were a reminder of Nature's deep abiding mystery capable of
hiding stories and secrets far beyond what we could ever.
Hope to uncover. This happened not too long ago
at my dad's house in Charleston. It was about a month back.
I think I was in my room and couldn't sleep.
So I just decided to watch TV. I've always had a weird feeling
about my room at my dad's place. You see we have this small room
behind a bookshelf. That opens like a door.
I've lived in that house since I was seven.
I've never been scared of it before even as a little kid, but
for some reason my room has been freaking me out lately the
creaking of the ceiling fan the faint noise of the air vent that
barely works it all seems a bit unnerving.
As I was watching TV, I heard something coming from the
bookshelf door a faint tapping noise.
I rewound the show. I was watching to see if it was
part of the program, but I didn't hear the taping this
time. Once I turned off the TV I heard
the tapping again. I just assumed it was my dog who
sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night.
Now, I'm not going to say the taping didn't scare me it
definitely did. I tried to go to sleep but the
taping started once more louder than the first time.
Scarlett, I know that's you. I yelled.
Thanking it was my little sister.
The taping then stopped and I Heard a Voice at the door that
sounded like my little sister. Macy please.
Can I sleep in your room tonight?
I can't sleep the voice said but I knew it wasn't my sister.
My sister would not have started talking to me outside of my door
like that voice did. The voice sounded like my sister
but something about it also sounded in human.
I didn't reply to it. I didn't say anything.
I didn't know exactly what to think of it all all I knew was
that it was not my sister. I then heard slow stomping as
the thing at my door began to walk away.
I locked my door and kept my lights on.
I don't exactly know how I went to sleep after that, but I did.
The night after my dad and my little sister went to the store.
I was home alone. I was on the phone with my
friend as I was scared that that thing would show up again.
After about an hour, she had to go so I said goodbye and hung up
reluctantly. I went down stairs to watch a
movie with my dog. I didn't feel so creeped out
after all. My dog is a 150 pound Great
Dane. Halfway through our movie.
I heard a knocking at the front door.
Hello. I got locked out of my house.
Can you please help me? It sounded like my neighbor.
I walked over to the door and was about to open it when a
thought popped into my head. That's not my neighbor.
She should be out of town. I quickly backed away from the
door grabbed a knife from the kitchen in case whatever was
outside tried to get in the knocking got faster and louder
tears welled up in my eyes. I was so afraid.
After a while the knocking stopped and the thing outside
walked away. My dog was cowering in a corner
instead of barking. Eventually my dad and my sister
came home and we all went to bed.
After that night, I have not heard the thing again.
I'm still scared of my room to this day.
But as long as I have my lamp on, I'm okay.
I will never forget those experiences.
This story includes my personal account and my friends multiple
encounters. Let's start with mine.
I'm from rural Southern Ontario Canada.
I was 18 years old and in college often getting home late
due to professors having other jobs and teaching us on the
side. In late November, I noticed that
whenever I came home and went to unlock the house the noises
would stop. For context I live on a main
side road with bushes dotted along the road.
My house is situated across from a bush with two rows of trees on
one side and more Bush at the back of the house.
For about two months. I Shrugged it off as the cold
pushing all the animals south or them hibernating.
That was until one night. I was taking out the garbage to
the laneway late at night because the garbage truck was
coming early in the morning. As I rolled the bins to the end
of the laneway, I noticed a pair of eyes staring at me through
the bushes. I instantly felt dread pour
through my body. So I booked it back to the
house. When I looked behind me, there
was nothing not a light in sight except for the house lights.
I Shrugged it off as the house lights reflecting off of
something down there. Those were my first two signs
that something was out there. About a month and a half later.
I got out of my truck to go inside the house through the
garage as I was about to open the garage.
I heard a blood-curdling scream from the middle of our field
maybe 400 feet away. It took me a second to unfreeze
myself and then I quickly opened the garage door and booked it
inside. Since then things have gone back
to normal for me. I hear birds owls at night and
even coyotes until one week in the spring.
There should have been birds out chirping and crickets being out
and about but I didn't hear a thing.
I remember thinking that thing was back and a feeling of being
watched a company me every time I was outside now onto my
friend's story. This also takes place in
Ontario. He's had three encounters with
what I think was a skinwalker. I'll share the story from his
perspective. I was on my way to my
girlfriend's dad's cabin in Ontario around Algonquin.
We were about 20 minutes out from his place.
The drive had been peaceful so far the two of us were exhausted
from the long drive. Out of nowhere I saw this dog on
the road. It was a kilometer away, but
just sitting there not moving. I started to slow down.
I flicked my high beams off and on but nothing it wouldn't
budge. Slowed down even more until I
was about three meters away from it.
Suddenly my girlfriend spoke up. What the heck?
Why is it just sitting there? I Shrugged and continued to
watch it closely then I watched it get up and begin to walk
around towards the passenger side of the car not breaking eye
contact with me. I kept staring at it until it
was around the back of the car. I think that's the neighbor's
dog said my girlfriend they have two dogs.
Maybe one of them got out. Okay.
I'm going to walk to the house and see if they're home to see
if their dogs are there. Could you go grab it?
I nodded in the two of us. Got out going our separate ways.
I could see the dog through the cars tail lights and the house
lights as I started to walk towards it it began to move away
in a kind of sideways walk all while keeping eye contact with
me weird. I thought how was it keeping
Pace with me like that. I decided to start jogging after
it and still somehow it kept pace with me.
Then it started getting faster. It was strange.
I was jogging pretty fast, and it was just out walking me.
It then began to bark in a weird way like every bark after the
first was just a copy paste of the first one like a program or
something same pitch and everything it then ran backward
into the ditch, and I followed it.
By now, I was around a kilometer away from the car so I couldn't
see anything. I could hear it barking out
there, but it seemed far away. I went into a Sprint and got to
wear it sounded like it was coming from and nothing.
I then heard more barking farther away somewhere else.
That's not possible. I thought I can't be running
that fast. I then pulled out my phone and
turned on the flashlight as I did.
I saw something run across the road into the opposite ditch.
Then something even stranger happened the dog stood up on its
hind legs and ran into the trees on those legs.
I froze then when I broke out of my state of paralysis, I truly
realized how far away I was from the car.
I turned around and ran as quickly as I could back to my
car. My blood was really pumping then
I felt as if I had gone into fight or flight mode like that
thing could possibly be on my heels.
I tried to run even faster as I drew close to the car.
I saw my girlfriend running towards it.
Get in she called we have to leave.
We both hopped into the car and gunned it down the road.
I looked in the rearview mirror and that dog was sitting in the
road again about five meters from where the car was.
What happened? She said?
I studied my breathing then told her what happened.
She started to cry and told me something.
I walked up to that house. No one was home.
But the door was open and the screen door was shut I peered
inside both their dogs were asleep on the couch.
Just fine. I don't know what you were
chasing because it looked like you were chasing a replica of
one of their dogs. I heard footsteps and saw you
running and I knew something was wrong.
We were both shaken up and made it to the cabin ready for a
sleepless night. That was my friend's first
experience. His second happened at the
cabin. He stayed at about 20 minutes
from where the first encounter was.
Here's that story my girlfriend and I were staying at our cabin
in the woods one weekend. We had a good time and went to
bed drunk. I woke up in the middle of the
night with a dry throat, so I went off to get some water.
As I was drinking I had an urge to smoke a cigarette.
So I opened the screen door and walked out side along the wet
grass. I pulled out my pack of
cigarettes and lit one. It was a peaceful night very
quiet. I was half asleep still so I
didn't notice the lack of noise around.
As I took a drag of the cigarette, I noticed a coyote
walking up. This thing's got balls.
I thought as I kept smoking. The large coyote walked up about
10 meters from me God up onto a picnic table and sat there.
As I looked at it it seemed off. It had patches of fur missing
seemed a little too skinny and it sat more like how a man would
sit if he were pretending to be a dog.
It's joints were just skin and bone.
Somehow it didn't really click with me.
Just how off this thing was. So I finished my cigarette.
I flicked the butt towards the thing in front of me and both me
and this thing watched it fall to the ground.
I stared at the cigarette for a second and looked up within that
brief moment. The thing was gone like it had
never been there. Wow, I must be really drunk.
I mumbled as I turned away and walked inside to bed.
My friends last encounter was again in the same place on yet
another weekend. Here it is in the fall of 2023
my girlfriend and I were again at her dad's cabin in Southern,
Ontario. It was a weekend of just her and
me drinking with ourselves and the cats.
It was a good night at around midnight.
We were watching a movie when I noticed something was weird the
insects outside that I could clearly hear a moment ago when
Silent not a sound I didn't really focus on that fact and
instead watched the movie as the movie came to a close.
I felt a feeling of dread I looked over at the two cats that
lived in that cabin. They were staring at the door
that led out side hair straight up mewing weirdly.
My girlfriend started to get scared and I tried to reassure
her then we heard a thump up stairs.
What the heck was that? My girlfriend whisper screamed?
I don't know but I'll go check it out.
I said I grabbed the machete that was beside the door and
went upstairs with the wood creaking all around me.
Just a possum or raccoon. I thought as I hit the top of
the steps. As I walked through the
upstairs, I noticed it was coming from the roof.
I could hear something walking around on the roof up there and
it was big I hustled back down stairs, but had to keep calm as
I saw that my girlfriend was now crying it's fine.
It's nothing probably just a raccoon walking on the roof
trying to get in I made up a quick lie to calm her down.
After that, I went around the house shutting the windows and
locking everything up as we huddled in the blankets and
talked about what was happening. We both heard this distorted
scream from the trees. It sounded like a man or a woman
screaming but Twisted in some way.
It lasted for about 10 seconds before going quiet after that.
We stayed frozen to that spot till morning not sleeping a
wink. We packed everything up and left
as soon as we could and made it back home safe.
As dumb as I am. I'm probably going to go back
there with her. But this time I'll be armed in
case something decides to fight. My name is Chris and I've always
loved the Great Outdoors. Living in rural Virginia the
Blue Ridge Mountains were my playground.
I knew them like the back of my hand or at least I thought I
did. I'm 32 years old and not much
scares me. I've come face to face with
black bears and I've navigated trails.
That would make a billy goat think twice.
But this story is about the time I encountered something that
chilled me to the Bone. It was the first weekend of deer
hunting season my favorite time of year.
I was excited to try out a new spot.
I had found in the Piney Grove Preserve.
The area was deep in the mountains known for its thick
Pine forests and rugged to rain. It was a hunter's paradise and
just the kind of challenge. I like to.
I had spent weeks preparing for this trip.
I set up trail cams and marked my route with GPS so I wouldn't
get lost. I felt ready and confident as I
loaded up my truck with all my gear for an overnight stay.
The drive to Piney Grove was peaceful.
The morning air was crisp and the sky was a clear blue.
Just perfect for a day in the woods.
When I arrived I parked my truck near the trailhead and double
checked my equipment. I had my tent my hunting rifle
enough food and water and of course my trusty GPS.
Taking a deep breath of the fresh Mountain Air.
I started my hike. The trail was challenging with
steep climbs and Rocky paths. It wound through the thick Pines
which filled the air with their sharp scent as I hiked.
I listened to the sounds of the forest the chirping of birds the
rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig
underfoot. It was music to my ears.
After about five miles, I reached the spot where I planted
to set up camp. It was a small clearing
surrounded by dense Woods giving me a good view of the
surrounding area. I quickly set up my tent and
arranged my gear inside. Everything was going smoothly
with camp set up. I grabbed my rifle and headed to
the tree stand. I had installed earlier that
week. It was positioned on the edge of
a small clearing overlooking a well-used game Trail.
Deer frequented this trail and I was hopeful for a good shot.
Climbing up into the tree stand I settled in making myself
comfortable for the long wait ahead.
As the sun began to set the forest changed.
The light faded and shadows grew long and deep.
The noises of the daytime creatures quieted down and the
night shift began. Owls who did in the distance and
I could hear the faint rustle of nocturnal animals as they
started their nightly routines. I felt at peace alone with
nature. But as Darkness enveloped the
woods and uneasy feeling crept over me.
It was quiet too quiet. Even the usual night sounds
seemed muted as if the forest was holding its breath.
I shook off the feeling telling myself.
It was just the nerves of being in a new hunting spot.
Little did. I know my peaceful Night in the
Woods was about to turn into a nightmare that would haunt me
forever. Sitting in my tree stand as the
last Light of Day disappeared. I felt a chill that wasn't from
the cold. Everything was so still that
even the smallest noise seemed loud.
I was ready for a quiet night of waiting and watching hoping a
big buck would wander by but what happened next was something
I could never have prepared for. started with a sound soft and
distant at first I thought it might be the wind or an animal
moving through the brush, but then I heard it again clearer
this time a voice. It sounded like someone calling
out faint and far away. Hello, is anyone out there?
It said my heart skipped a beat. It was definitely a human voice
a woman's voice sounding scared and lost.
For a moment. I didn't move people getting
lost in these Woods wasn't unheard of but something felt
off The Voice came again closer now.
These can someone help me. I'm lost.
It sounded desperate and my first instinct was to call out
to tell her I was here but something inside me hesitated.
Why would anyone be out here so late so far from the trails?
I was about to shout back when the voice changed Chris is that
you it was my mom's voice calling my name clear as day,
but that was impossible. My mom lived three states away
and hated the woods. She'd never stepped foot in a
place like this a cold shiver ran down my spine.
How could this be happening? Son, what are you doing up
there? Come on down.
It's time to go home. Now it was my dad's voice calm
and familiar. But my dad had passed away five
years ago. My head was spinning and my
heart was pounding in my chest. This couldn't be real.
I was either Dreaming or something.
Very strange was going on. I clung to my rifle trying to
make sense of it all the voices sounded so real so much like my
parents, but I knew they weren't I needed to stay calm to think
but then the rustling started something big moving through the
underbrush to my left my breath caught in my throat.
Who's out there? This isn't funny.
I called out trying to sound braver than I felt the rustling
stopped and for a second everything was silent.
Then right below my tree stand alone.
Chuckle broke the silence a laugh that sounded almost but
not quite human. It was followed by a series of
clicks and pops like someone or something was trying to form
words, but couldn't quite get it, right.
Then in a voice that was a chilling mix of my moms and dads
it spoke again. We've been waiting for you
Chris. It's time to join us.
I peered down my headlamp cutting through the darkness.
At the base of my tree. I saw something a shape pale and
shifting with limbs too long and a face too smooth to be human.
Fear like I had never felt before took hold of me my mind
screamed to run to get away from this nightmare without thinking
I aimed my rifle and fired the shot echoed through the forest
and a high pitched inhuman shriek filled the air the shape
darted away disappearing Into the Night.
As silence fell again my heart raced and my hands shook.
What was that thing? What did it want with me?
I knew one thing for sure. I couldn't stay in that tree
stand any longer. I had to get out of there.
After I fired my rifle everything went silent for a
moment. My heart was beating so fast.
It felt like it would burst out of my chest.
The creature or whatever it was had vanished, but the woods felt
even more dangerous and eerie. I knew I couldn't just sit in my
tree stand all night. I had to get out of there to run
as fast as I could away from those voices and that terrifying
shape. Climbing down from the tree
stand my legs felt shaky, but fear pushed me forward.
Once on the ground I didn't look back.
I just ran. The forest around me was Pitch
Black and the only light came from my headlamp bouncing with
every step I took. Branches scratched at my face
and Roots tried to trip me, but I kept moving driven by pure
adrenaline. The voices didn't stop.
They followed me through the dark calling my name.
Some sounded angry some sounded pleading and some even tried to
sound seductive as if they could lure me into stopping.
It was like the whole forest was alive trying to trick me into
coming back. But I knew better.
I knew I had to keep running. I ran with out thinking about
direction or distance. My mind was focused on one thing
only escaping. The voice is seemed to be
everywhere behind me beside me even right next to my ear.
It was terrified. Every once in a while, I'd hear
something that sounded just like my mom or my dad and it would
make me want to stop to listen. But I forced myself to ignore it
and keep running. I don't know how long I was
running through those woods. Felt like hours, but it probably
wasn't more than 30 minutes. Finally, I saw something that
looked like salvation a gravel road.
It was the road where I parked my truck.
I had never been so happy to see a road in my life.
I sprinted down that road my lungs burning and my legs aching
but I didn't slow down not until I reached my truck.
My hands were shaking so much that I could barely get the key
into the lock. When I finally did I threw
myself inside locked the doors and started the engine I was
safe or at least safer than I was in the woods.
As I drove away one final voice reached me.
It sounded like a little kid chillingly sweet.
Don't leave us. Chris will be waiting for you to
come back. I stepped on the gas gravel
flying behind me as I raced down the Forest Road.
I didn't stop until I hit the highway.
The drive home was a blur. I kept going over everything
that it happened trying to make sense of it.
Could it have been a hallucination?
Maybe some kind of gas leak in the forest or maybe I had fallen
asleep and dreamed the whole thing, but deep down.
I knew it was real the fear. I felled the voices that shape
at the base of the tree. They were all too real.
When I got home, the first light of dawn was just touching the
horizon. I was safe back in my own
driveway. But I knew one thing for sure.
I was never going back to those woods.
Whatever was out. There it knew me and it wanted
me and as much as I loved the Wilderness some places are
better left alone. I've been holding on to this
story for some time. And to be honest.
I'm still not sure about sharing it.
However, after listening to a podcast it all came flooding
back and I feel like I need to get it off my chest maybe that
will help me make sense of what happened all those years ago and
Willow Creek. As a quick note, this town is an
actually called Willow Creek, but for the sake of privacy and
anonymity, I'm going to call it that.
For context I grew up in a small town in northern Michigan right
on the edge of a vast stretch of wilderness.
Willow Creek wasn't much more than a collection of houses a
general store and a small Elementary School back then
surrounded by dense forests and winding streams.
It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else and
kids had free reign to explore the woods as long as we were
home by dinner. I was 10 years old when it all
started in the summer of 1995. My best friend back then was a
girl named Sarah who lived just down the road from me.
We spent most of our days building forts in the woods
catching frogs in the creek and making up elaborate fantasy
worlds. It was a scorching hot day in
July when we decided to venture further into the woods than we'd
ever gone before. We packed up some sandwiches and
juice boxes feeling like real explorers as we set off down and
overgrown Trail which led away from the creek.
We must have walked for a couple of hours the forest growing
denser and darker. I remember feeling a bit uneasy
like we'd crossed some invisible boundary into a place.
We were not supposed to be. I assumed it was the feeling a
child gets when they traveled to far.
But Sarah was Fearless always pushing us to go just a little
bit further. We were about to turn back when
we stumbled upon an old large gnarled willow tree.
Its branches grouped so low, they almost touched the ground.
There was something off about it though.
I couldn't put my finger on what exactly The air felt heavier
there and it was eerily quiet. No birds singing no insects
buzzing. Sarah always The Brave One
walked right up to the tree and ducked under its curtain of
leaves. I hesitated a strange sense of
dread creeping over me. Come on, Alex.
Sarah called from inside the tree.
It's so cool in here. I took a deep breath and
followed her in the space Under The Willow was dim and cool a
welcome relief from the summer heat.
Sarah was right. It was pretty magical in there.
Like we had discovered our own secret hideout.
We were about to start planting all the adventures we'd have in
our new Fort when we heard it a soft Whispering voice coming
from somewhere above us. Come play.
We froze looking at each other with wide eyes The Voice didn't
sound like anyone we knew and it had a strange echoing quality to
it. Did you hear that Sarah
whispered? I nodded my heart pounding.
It might have been the wind. I suggested not believing it
myself. The Voice came once more louder
than the first time I'm lonely climb up here.
Keep me company. Sarah curious started to look up
into the branches. You see anyone she asked I scan
the tangle of branches and leaves above us, but I saw
nothing we should go I said tugging on Sarah's arm.
This is creepy. For once Sarah didn't argue.
We ducked back out from under the Willow and started to speed
walk back the way we'd come. As we left the clearing.
I swear I heard a faint disappointed sigh rustling
through the leaves behind us. We didn't talk much on the way
home. Both of us were trying to
process what it happened. By the time we got back to our
neighborhood we'd halfway convinced ourselves.
We'd imagined the whole thing. But that was just the beginning
over the next few weeks. We heard more stories from other
kids in town. Jennie Parker swore she'd heard
someone calling her name when she was picking berries near the
edge of the woods, but when she looked around no one was there.
The Thompson Twins said they saw a strange shadowy figure darting
between trees when they were camping in the backyard.
Each story was a little different but they all had one
thing in common a voice that sounded almost but not quite
human. Adults dismissed it as kids
overactive imaginations, of course, but we knew better.
We started to call the thing the Whisperer this entity that
lurked in the woods and tried to lure kids away.
It became our local Boogeyman the story we'd whisper to each
other at sleepovers to see who would get scared first.
I didn't have another encounter with it that summer but Sarah
did. She showed up at my house one
evening pale and shaking. She said she'd been walking home
from the library when she heard someone calling her from the
woods. It sounded like her mom at first
telling her to come quick that there had been an accident.
Sarah began to run towards the voice when she realized her mom
was working late that night and could not possibly be in the
woods. It wasn't her voice anymore.
When I stopped Sarah told me her eyes wide with fear.
It got all distorted. And angry.
It said it would get me next time.
I wanted to believe Sarah was just trying to mess with me.
But I had never seen her so scared before.
We made a pact that day to never go back into the woods alone.
As summer turned to fall the encounters seemed to die down.
He started to relax a little thinking maybe whatever it was
had moved on but then in early October everything changed.
It was a crisp Saturday morning and the newsreader Billy
Hutchins a seven-year-old who lived on the outskirts of Willow
Creek had vanished from his backyard the night before.
Search parties were being organized and soon the whole
town was combing the woods calling Billy's name.
I remember the pit in my stomach as I overheard the adults
talking. Billy had told his mom he was
going to play in his tree house for a while before dinner.
She called him into eat about an hour later, but he didn't
respond. When she went to check on him,
the tree house was empty and there was no sign of Billy
anywhere. The search went on for days with
police dogs helicopters and volunteers from neighboring
towns. It seemed like the whole world
had descended on our little corner of Michigan, but they
never found a trace of Billy. It was like he'd simply vanished
Into Thin Air in the wake of Billy's disappearance parents
cracked down hard no more playing in the woods no more
staying out after dark. The Carefree Days of our
childhood seemed to end overnight but here's the thing
that still haunts me to this day The Night Billy disappeared.
I was sleeping over at Sarah's house.
We were up late watching movies in her living room when we both
heard it a voice just outside the window one that we
recognized. I'm going with him.
It's so fun. You guys should come too said
Billy. We looked at each other in
horror. Billy was not the type to walk
alone at night and we knew exactly who he was referring to
the Whisperer. We huddled together on the couch
until morning too terrified to even think about sleep.
We never told anyone what we heard that night who would
believe us. And more importantly what could
anyone have done? That thing in the woods whatever
it was had won. It had finally taken a child.
the strange encounters stopped after that No more voice is
calling from the trees. No more shadowy figures glimpsed
at the edge of the forest. We could only guess the
Whisperer had been satisfied and had moved on. years passed and
life and Willow Creek slowly returned to normal Billy
Hutchins became a cautionary tale his story told to remind
kids not to wander off alone. Most of the adults chalked it up
to a tragic accident or a wild animal attack.
Those of us who had encountered The Whisper or knew better, but
we rarely spoke of it even amongst ourselves.
I left Willow Creek for college and never moved back though.
I do visit my parents from time to time.
Sarah stayed taking over her family's hardware store.
We don't talk much anymore too many painful memories, I guess.
different lives to live Sometimes when I'm lying awake
at night, I still hear that voice in my head Billy's voice
telling me that we should come too.
I can't help but wonder what if we had told someone could we
have saved Billy? Could we have rallied the adults
and torn Billy from that thing's clutches or would we have been
the ones to disappear next? I don't have any answers even
after all these years if you're ever out in the woods alone.
And you hear someone calling your name someone who sounds
almost but not quite like someone, you know, do not
answer. Don't follow just run.
Hello, my family believes. We are being stalked hunted
haunted and teased by one or more skinwalkers.
This has been going on for years on and off.
We live on a farm and these entities have been making more
frequent appearances than ever lately.
My kids are scared as they've seen it several times as have my
husband and I we even believe it's been indoors with us from
time to time the glimpses. I've seen it first appeared to
be that of a naked man moving with extreme speed faster than I
can keep an eye on it Peaks around corners of the house at
my kids and makes human and animal cries at night.
It's terrifying. We have found doors on locked
and left open at night. And when we investigate we catch
a glimpse of it. Garage doors too doors that no
one ever opens. There's no good explanation for
it. Living on a farm we are used to
the sounds of Coyote's howling barking and different animals of
Praise screaming when attacked. The screams we've been hearing
lately are not the same sounds of coyote attacks.
These are screams that sound human blood curdling cries.
I've never heard anything like before.
I don't know if there is something that can be done to
keep them at Bay. I believe many of these evil
entities come in and out of our Dimension, but I would love to
keep them out if that's possible.
Here is one of the more terrifying encounters.
It was August 14 during a meteor shower that was ongoing until
the 24th. I was curious to see it.
So I went out late at exactly one.
Am I stood in the middle of the road in front of my house
staring up at the clear night sky watching some comets pass by
across the road in front of my house is a good five acres of
unclaimed desert land. I'm from Arizona where Navajo
skinwalkers are said to originate.
As I was standing there, I began to hear odd noises like a branch
cracking or crunching something. This noise came from directly in
front of me about 100 yards away.
At the time I didn't think much of it.
It's important to note that after this whole experience.
I did my research and everything seemed to add up to my story.
There are reasons. I believe it was a skinwalker.
It was far away, but I've read a counts where people mentioned
that the farther away the sounds of a skinwalker might seem the
closer at actually is not even 10 seconds later.
I heard a very strange noise coming from the left side of the
front of my house. This was closed about 50 feet
away having lived in Arizona for six years.
These noises were unfamiliar and different.
I was always out at night and I could tell when it was just a
desert rabbit or a couple of coyotes.
As these strange noises occurred the worst feeling I've ever felt
in my 17 years came over me. It was very weird and made me
feel very uneasy. It was that gut feeling like I
knew something bad was going to happen soon or was already
happening. a sense of impending doom then as fast as the noises
started they stopped but this was a short pause.
I heard faint talking coming from the same spot where the
noise is had happened. Not long after it sounded like a
little girl. I couldn't make out a single
word as it was quiet faint and practically gibberish.
But it was definitely feminine then it stopped again and
immediately after clear as day and twice as loud as the talking
before I heard my name Noah. In that very moment.
I don't think I've ever been more truly terrified.
I was super freaked out. I began to walk towards my front
door. I read that skinwalkers tend to
mimic the voices of people and sound very human-like to try to
lure people in. I also read that in most cases
with kids skinwalkers will purposefully lurk around or near
houses and everything unfolded just outside of mine.
My heart was racing at that moment and that gut feeling I
got was still there just as bad if not worse.
I was at the bottom of my driveway now already turned
around heading for the front door of my home as bad and
freaky as things already were you'd figure things couldn't get
any worse that was until on the right side of me.
I heard the gravel of our front yard crunching it was deep and
long two crunches. It was coming towards me now no
more than 20 feet away. Unfortunately.
I hadn't seen anything with my own eyes.
It was too dark and the steps had occurred on the opposite
side of my sister's car to the right of me.
So I didn't have a clear line of sight as I walked up the
driveway. At this moment, I was scared out
of my literal mind. When I heard the crunch of the
gravel, I was on the verge of calling out or even yelling at
whatever thing was coming my way but I didn't my gut instincts
told me that initiating something like that would most
likely make things far worse. I tried my best to keep my
composure. The entire inside of me was
collectively screaming as a whole.
I was at the top of the driveway now.
My driveway is slanted. I was no more than maybe five
feet from the door when on both sides of me.
These sounds are steps picked up faster coming towards me.
Fortunately for me, I didn't acknowledge the things that
happened at the time or at least I tried my best to ignore it for
my own safety and I didn't initiate anything with whatever
was truly out there. I made it to the door and
quickly locked it up behind me, but things just got freakier
from there. Whatever had just happened had
scared me out of my mind. You know how when you have a bad
feeling it tends to go away after the so-called bad thing
happens. Well that feeling hadn't gone
away and I was still on high alert.
I put the cover over our large dog door locked the back door
the garage door and made sure all the windows were locked.
That bad feeling almost never went away that entire night and
I was still freaked out after what happened.
Everyone was asleep. Well, except maybe for my
sister. I trusted that she was still
awake. I went to her room and when I
knocked I woke her up. She said groggily that I could
come in so I came in quietly and sat down.
She went back to sleep and I prayed nothing bad would happen
again. Of course.
My sister is the only one in the house who keeps her blind up at
night. God Knows Why and of course the
screen of her window had fallen off and she never bothered to
put it back on. So it was just glass from there.
I could see the entirety of the backyard and if there was
anything in my backyard It Could See Me Now, too.
I sat in her room for a good while.
I want to say maybe 15 minutes had passed when abruptly out of
nowhere. I heard faint whistling very
faint. However close it was it didn't
matter because it was coming straight from my backyard.
It got closer that whistling began to sound like a flute.
I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it.
Another quick note after reading some other person's story.
It is believed that I could have heard the flute of a Navajo or
no Navajo witch. Now in the comfort of my own
home came this strange music. Once I identified it sounded
like flute music it went away. I quickly got up told my sister.
Good night and didn't say a word after that leaving her room
still creeped out. With everyone else's sleep and
being alone. I turned on a lot of lights and
sat at the bar in the kitchen. At one point I even thought to
wake my dad up just so I could be in the comfort of another
person. I was only 17 I ended up not
doing it thinking my dad would be teed off.
As I sat there, once again came the faint crunching of gravel
rocks from my backyard. Whatever was there.
I could hear it. It was no more than five feet
away from the back door. Then came a small short knock on
the glass. I froze and waited.
Every minute came one more singular knock.
This just scared me even more. Skinwalker or not?
Something was on the other side of that door and I wasn't going
to stick around to find out luckily for me.
My back door has a cover which is also just glass.
I flicked off the lights and walked towards my bedroom.
I didn't bother looking at the back door.
I stayed in my room for the rest of the night.
I never left. I was up for a good three hours
after everything occurred even then I heard strange noises from
outside my window, too. I remained horrified until
somehow in some way. I fell asleep.
The next morning everything seemed fine.
I truly don't know what happened that night, but I'm glad I went
with my gut. I don't think I'd be here if I
hadn't. I am 28 years old and live in
Columbus, Ohio. I work in it and up until last
year. I lived in a pretty standard
apartment complex on the outskirts of the city.
It's one of those places with a bunch of three story buildings
clustered around a Central Parking Lot nothing fancy, but
decent enough for a single guy on a budget.
This all went down right before Halloween the complex had
started to put up some cheap decorations.
I had been living there for about two years by then and
nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.
The scariest thing I'd encountered was the occasional
raccoon digging through the dumpsters.
It was a Thursday night and I was getting home late from work.
We'd had a major system crash and I'd spent hours trying to
get everything back on line. By the time I pulled into my
complex, it was almost midnight to my annoyance.
The parking lot was unusually full there must have been some
sort of event going on that. I had forgotten about all the
spots near my building were taken.
I ended up having to park clear on the other side of the complex
a good five minute walk from my own apartment.
Not a big deal like I guess just inconvenient.
I grab my laptop bag and started trudging across the parking lot.
The yellow street lights cast Long Shadows across the asphalt.
I was about halfway to my building when I heard it a
voice. It was soft but very apparent it
came from the Shadows between two parked cars.
Excuse me. Can you help me?
I'm lost. I stopped peering into the
darkness. The voice sounded like it
belonged to an older woman. My first thought was that one of
the residents grandparents had gotten turned around in the
complex. Hello, I called out.
Where are you? There was a shuffle in sound.
Then. I saw a figure step out from
between the cars. In the dim light I could make
out the shape of a small hunched woman with wispy white hair.
She was wearing what looked like a nightgown or robe.
Oh, thank goodness. The woman said her voice
quivering. I was taking out my trash and I
got all turned around these buildings all look the same in
the dark. Could you point me to buildings
sea? I felt a paying of sympathy.
Building sea was clear on the other side of the complex and
this poor old lady had wandered pretty far.
Of course. I said taking a step closer.
It's actually back the way I came I can walk you there if you
like. As I move towards her something
made me hesitate. Maybe it was the way she stood
completely motionless like some sort of cardboard cutout or the
fact I couldn't quite make out her face in the shadows.
I felt a chill run down my body then and I found myself taking a
step backward. That's very kind.
The woman said but her voice had changed it was deeper now and
there was a Reverb to it in a weird way that made my skin
crawl. Why don't you come a little
closer? I'm having trouble seeing you.
Despite every Instinct in my body screaming at me to run I
stood there petrified. I watched the figure which now
seemed to shift it was subtle at first like a ripple passing
through water then in the span of a single heartbeat it grew.
The hunched forms straightened and expanded the wispy hair
disappeared and the figure shot up to well over six feet tall.
What stood before me now was a towering vaguely humanoid shape
in the dim light. I could see that its skin.
If you could call it. That was a patchwork of Textures
in some places. It looked like normal human skin
in others. It was more like rough tree bark
or Sleek animal fur its face was the worst part A blank
featureless expanse with just the suggestion of eyes and mouth
like an unfinished sculpture. I stumbled backward my heart
pounding so hard. I thought it might burst from my
chest. The thing took a step towards me
and when it spoke again, it was with a chorus of voices men
women children all layered over each other like a hell-bound
choir. It made my head spin.
Don't go. I just want to talk.
I just want to heal it said reaching out with a hand that
seemed to be constantly shifting and reforming I turned and ran
sprinting across the parking lot toward the nearest building.
I heard it behind me a sound like bare feet slapping against
asphalt but much too fast too rhythmic to be human.
I reached the building in yanked open the door not even caring
that it wasn't my own. I raced up the stairs to the
second floor and pressed myself against the wall trying to quiet
and steady my breathing. For a long moment there was
silence. Then from right outside the
building. I heard a voice my voice.
Hello. Is anyone there?
I think I'm lost. My blood ran cold.
It was a perfect imitation of my voice down to the slight nasal
tone. I get when I'm nervous.
Can someone please help? I don't know where I am.
I stayed there pressed against the wall for God knows how long
the voice my voice called out a few more times before eventually
falling silent soon. I worked up the courage to peer
out the window. The parking lot was empty no
sign of that strange figure or anyone else for that matter.
I waited there until the sun began to come up before making a
Mad Dash for my apartment. I packed a bag called in sick to
work and went to stay with a friend for a few days.
When I came back everything seemed normal.
No, one in the complex mentioned anything strange and I tried to
convince myself. It was all some kind of stress
related thing. But I couldn't shake the memory
of that voice those voices or the sight of that shifting
impossible form. I broke my lease two months
later and moved to a new place closer to downtown.
I tell myself it's for the shorter commute.
But we all know the real reason I still live in Columbus.
I avoid that part of town now sometimes when I'm driving home
late at night and see someone walking alone in a parking lot.
I feel a surge of irrational panic.
And every now and then when I'm drifting off to sleep, I can
remember that voice and I pray that I don't hear it again
calling. Hello.
Is anyone there? I think I'm lost.
Ever since I can remember fishing with Dad was our thing.
Our special way to bond and to escape everything else.
It was on my 5th birthday during one of our fishing trips that I
had a dream while never forget. It was a perfect sunny day the
kind that paints Everything Gold.
Dad and I were on our little boat in the middle of the calm
Green Lake. I loved watching the way the
sunlight played on the ripples turning them into sparkling
gems. Dad was rowing slowly taking in
the nature around us. He wore his black cap faded to a
Dusty orange by the Sun and those mirrored sunglasses that
seemed like part of the official dad uniform everything felt
peaceful. Just right.
But dreams have a way of turning don't they?
Without warning dad stopped rowing the oars slipped from his
hands and sank into the lake with barely a splash then he did
something that even now years later since chills down my
spine. Straightened up placed his hands
on his knees and turned to me with a smile.
But it wasn't his usual warm smile.
It was brought in eerily forced as if someone had told him to
smile but forgotten to mention he could stop.
Despite the sunglasses I could tell his eyes weren't smiling.
They looked wrong somehow like they were empty of all the
deadness. I knew.
I asked him what was wrong my voice shaking but he just kept
smiling that creepy smile saying nothing.
The rest of the dream is a blur. I remember him just staring at
me with that smile while I cried feeling an eternity passed
between us. I woke up in tears the images of
the dream still Vivid and haunting.
Mom was already by my side trying to comfort me.
She whispered that it was just a nightmare, but her voice
couldn't chase away the shadows in my mind.
I couldn't go back to sleep after that the thought of
closing my eyes and seeing that smile again was too much.
So I stayed up watching cartoons on TV their brightness a stark
contrast to the darkness. I felt inside at the time.
I didn't understand what it happened.
It was just a bad dream, right but somehow it felt like more
than that. It was as if something had
reached out from whatever Place dreams are woven from leaving a
mark on me. Little did I know that was my
first encounter with something. I'd later come to call the
mimic. A shadow that knew No
Boundaries. Not even those between dreams
and Waking Life. Looking back.
I wish I could tell that little boy that everything would be all
right that it was indeed. Just a nightmare.
But that would be a lie. That day on the lake was just
the beginning and there was so much more to come.
So much more that I still struggle to understand.
Life went on after that disturbing dream, but a part of
me remained wary always on edge. It was a few Summers later, and
I was about 10. I loved spending my mornings
bouncing on the trampoline in our backyard.
It was my little bubble of Happiness where I could jump and
flip away my worries. That particular morning was
bright and clear promising a day full of play.
I woke up early pulled on my shorts and a t-shirt and rushed
out side to start jumping before breakfast.
The rhythm of bouncing felt freeing almost like I was
flying. As I was doing tricks catching
air and feeling the morning Breeze, I noticed Mr. Thompson
our neighbor walking towards our fence.
He was a retired policeman and had always been friendly waving
and chatting whenever we saw him.
He called out a cheerful. Good morning.
And commented on how early I was awake.
He mentioned something about the apple trees in his yard and how
he expected a good harvest that year.
I just nodded and smiled not really paying much attention.
I kept jumping lost in my little world.
After a while, I figured Mr. Thompson had left as the
conversation died down and I heard no more from him.
I decided to take a break and grab the edge of the trampoline
to steady myself. As I turned to hop off I froze.
There he was standing just behind the trampoline safety net
his face unnerving close to mine.
His eyes were wide open unnaturally.
So and his smile was brought and forced.
The same kind of smile from my dream.
It wasn't the kind Mr. Thompson ever wore his eyes usually kind
and gentle or now bright red as if he hadn't blinked in ages.
He stared straight at me without blinking without speaking just
that terrifying smile. Panic gripped me my heart race
and for a moment, I couldn't move.
I couldn't understand. What was happening.
Was this real? Was it another dream?
The sight of him so changed so creepy it struck a chord of fear
deep within me. Suddenly my legs found their
strength and I jumped off the trampoline and sprinted towards
the house slamming the door behind me.
I was panting and shaking as I told Mom what it happened.
She looked at me with wide worried eyes and immediately
suggested we go over to Mr. Thompson's house to ask if he
was all right, or if something was wrong.
I was too scared to face him again.
So she went alone. She returned quicker than I
expected her expression puzzled and concerned Mr. Thompson had
seemed genuinely confused by her questions.
He admitted he had come by to say hello, but insisted he had
left right after our brief chat about the apples.
He denied ever standing behind the trampoline or staring at me
like that. I didn't know what to believe
mom seemed to take his word for it, but I couldn't shake the
image of his twisted smile and these haunting unblinking eyes.
For weeks after I kept a Vigilant watch on his house from
my bedroom window half expecting to see that creepy smile again.
But everything seemed normal at least on the surface.
I tried to convince myself. It was just a weird moment a
trick of light or My Imagination Running Wild but deep down.
I knew it wasn't. It couldn't be.
Something was very wrong. I was 14 now and my days were
filled with the usual teenage stuff.
School homework and weekends at my grandparents house.
They lived close to my school. So I'd often ride my bike there
on Fridays to hang out do my homework and enjoy my grandma's
strong coffee. One typical Friday I left school
feeling particularly drained from a tough math test.
I wield my bike up the driveway dropped it by the porch and let
myself in through the unlocked door.
Our family never worried about locking up during the day.
Hey Grandma, I'm here. I called out as I entered.
There was no response which was unusual because grandma was
always in the kitchen around this time.
Usually humming or talking to herself as she cooked or
cleaned. I Shrugged it off and headed
straight for the kitchen to grab a snack.
The house was strangely quiet. No humming.
No clinging of dishes. Just silence.
I dropped my backpack in books on the kitchen table and notice
Grandma standing at the sink her back to me.
Math was brutal to today. I started hoping to strike up a
conversation no reply. I frowned waiting for some sign.
She had heard me. Grandma still nothing the
silence stretched on becoming more unnerving by the second.
She hadn't even moved since I had walked in something fell
off. I tried to see her face in the
reflection of the shiny teapot on the counter, but I couldn't
make it out clearly. Curiosity mixed with a rising
fear. I slowly approached her.
Grandma are you okay? No response.
I reached out to tap her shoulder.
But before I could touch her she turned around abruptly.
The sight that greeted me froze me in place.
It was Grandma but not the grandma.
I knew. Her eyes were wide open
bloodshot and her mouth. It was stretched into a
grotesque forced smile much wider and more terrifying than
anything I'd seen before. Her skin seemed almost purple
and her expression was one of pain and horror.
I stumbled backward my heart pounding so hard.
I thought it might burst. Grandma I whispered but the
figure just stood there smiling that horrible smile.
I couldn't take it. I turned and ran out of the
house leaving everything behind even my bike.
I sprinted all the way home my mind racing with fear and
confusion. As soon as I burst through the
door Mom saw my face and immediately knew something was
wrong. She called Grandma who answered
sleepily. She said she'd been napping in
her room and hadn't seen me at all that day.
That phone call confirmed. It wasn't just my imagination.
Something was following me. Something that could take the
shape of people I loved. From that day on everything
changed. I stopped going out much my
anxiety skyrocketing every time I had to interact with anyone.
School became unbearable and eventually I just stopped going.
People thought I was losing it that the stress had gotten to
me. Maybe they were right but they
didn't see what I saw. They didn't feel the terror of
seeing your loved ones morph into something monstrous.
I withdrew into my self my world growing smaller and darker by
the day until it was just me alone with my fears wondering
when the mimic which show itself again.
And as much as I wished, I was wrong.
I knew deep down that it was far from over.
A few years back. I was hiking the Appalachian
Trail with some friends and we stopped at a campsite equipped
with Comfort stations one night around 2 a.m.
I woke up needing to use the bathroom.
The site was a corner one. So there was a short Trail at
the back that led through the woods to the washroom.
Although I could have taken the longer route around the front I
decided to cut through the back to save time as I was tired and
really needed to go. As I was halfway along the
trail. I heard a very faint noise to my
right something that sounded almost like laughter.
I didn't freak out. I knew that raccoons and
porcupines can make a similar sound at night.
Since it was dark, I couldn't see anything, but I kept moving
towards the Comfort station without a second thought.
A few seconds later. I heard a woman's voice deep in
the woods asking. Hello.
To say I jumped was an understatement, but I was just
startled not scared. I wasn't sure if she was talking
to me or someone else. I responded with a friendly.
Hey thinking that if a girl was out there freaked out by hearing
Footsteps in the middle of the night.
I didn't want her to think I was creepy.
However after I spoke there was no response.
By the time I reached the Comfort station, I had managed
to talk myself out of being seriously creeped out.
I don't believe in ghosts and I still don't despite the creepy
timing in sudden silence. I rationalized that it was
probably just another person as spooked as I was.
So I headed back the same way thinking that if I heard
anything this time, I would just Sprint.
The trail was eerily quiet when I was about three quarters of
the way back still hoping I hadn't scared the girl too much.
I heard her voice again. But this time it wasn't quite
her voice. It sounded like her but
different in a way that made my skin crawl.
When it said come back I ran faster than I ever had in my
life. I dashed back to my tent so
frantically that I woke everyone up.
They kept asking what was wrong, but all I could say was that I
had freaked myself out. There was no way they would
believe me if I told him about the voice change.
They'd think I was drunk hi or just a scared little man, or
maybe a bit of all three. We moved campgrounds the next
day and I didn't hear anything like it for the rest of the
trip. I'm very glad that was the case,
but I still wish I knew what I heard that night because I would
be lying if I said that question doesn't still keep me up at
night. My grandpa grew up in a little
town called grape field, Virginia.
These days grape field consists of just four streets with a
creek running through it, but it used to be much more.
Walk about a mile out of town past a pair of Old Logging
patches and you'll find the Appalachian Trail right there on
your figurative doorstep. I used to think growing up in
that kind of place would make for an idyllic childhood with
its small town values strong sense of community and the great
Green Forest for a backyard. However, there was a reason
Grandpa left there the first chance he got they used to say
they moved because of the Great Depression and there might have
been at least some truth to that.
But if some of the stories Grandpa later told me are
anything to go by it wasn't just financial problems.
That made them want to move. Although it seems like a quiet
and uneventful Place grape field, Virginia has a real dark
past and some of the folks living there still say it's
cursed. Now back before the Civil War
grape field was said to be a prosperous and promising little
town where the vast majority of people were employed by one of
two Plantation families who lived at opposite ends of the
Halo. One family were slave owners an
employed white townsfolk as drivers overseers Tradesmen and
Clerks. While the other family were
staunch abolitionists and employed all the same except
their farmhands and technicians were white townsfolk.
For the most part this Arrangement worked out just fine
for both parties. But as the violence over in
Kansas got more and more out of hand.
Still Waters came to a simmer. Before long the subject of
slavery was no longer something that could be discussed
politely. And by the time the first shots
were fired at Fort Sumter folks in grape field were not using
words to settle arguments anymore.
They were using bullets. Obviously the abolitionists had
what you might call the moral High Ground.
The only trouble was Virginia was a slave state and the
prophet margins of the slave owning side of great field were
much higher than those on the abolitionists side who paid all
their people well and fairly but this meant the slave owners had
mountains of cash flying around cash.
They could use to hire all kinds of unsavory types to protect
them from the abolitionists. And that protection usually
involved violence intimidation and occasionally murder.
Some of the Abolitionist tried to fight back but seeing as they
were outnumbered and outgunned most ended up hanging from their
Barns and anyone with any sense fled for northern states before
they could be targeted. This would have all worked out
just fine for the slave owners. If it wasn't for the fact that
the Confederates would go on to snatch defeat from the jaws of
victory. Once the federals arrived in
town the slave owners had to Parlay their way back into
ownership of their own plantations.
Somehow they managed to do just that only this time they
couldn't rely on Free Labor and there were no more abolitionist
farmers in town to help maintain the plantations.
They had all the expertise they needed just none of the Manpower
although they shipped in folks from out of town to try and fill
the gaps things were never quite the same as they were before the
war. The head of the slave holding
Plantation family had been cruel and conniving but he was at
least competent. But then his replacement his
eldest surviving son was a full a tyrant and a drunk.
He might not have owned slaves anymore.
But he sure did treat his people like they were he didn't just
treat them like his property. He treated their homes and their
families like they were his property too The New Plantation
owner was always a little too fresh with great Fields women
folk, but then one night after a man's wife returned home
claiming the plantation owner had violated her the townsfolk
decided that enough was enough. A whole mob of them marched over
to the plantation house. But instead of dragging the
owner outside and hanging him from his own porch the mob
started going around nailing doors and windows closed anyone
who tried to escape was shot and there were lots of folks in
there too. Not just the plantation owner
and his family. They had Maids Cooks nannies for
the children. All of whom learned to stay away
from the doors or Windows less they face a hail of bullets.
Once they had the plantation house locked down the mob douse
the place and set it on fire. The mob was liquored up and they
clapped and cheered as the plantation house burned.
But that all stopped when they started to hear the screams of
the women and children upstairs. It was then and only then that
they realized what a terrible thing they done.
One man tried to pry the nails out of one of the window frames
in hopes that he might be able to rescue some of the women and
children. But it was too late.
There was no way back for them. They couldn't have any witnesses
to attest what they done. The whole thing needed to look
as much like an accident as possible not so much for their
consciences, but for appearances.
No one could ever know the truth of what happened that night.
Well, you can see how well that went.
The mob must have done a decent job of covering things up when
it came to the authorities because no one was hanged for
burning down the plantation house.
But I guess at some point someone talked either to their
wife or to a minister, maybe even on their deathbed because
once word got out that the fire was no accident.
It was like a Darkness seeped into grape field one that never
went away. The towns economy was completely
torn apart. Fear and suspicion became the
norm it took 40 years for the place to even start to heal.
But even after things started to pick up again folks talked of a
curse hanging over the town. All that guilt meant a lot of
drinking and all that drinking meant a lot of broken homes a
lot of Anguish and a lot of misery, too. and that ladies and
gentlemen is the kind of town my grandpa grew up in far from the
kind of Hallmark card upbringing that I imagine he had as you can
probably tell Grandpa talked an awful lot about growing up in
great field probably in an attempt to instill gratitude in
myself and his other grandchildren.
I can promise you at worked because as much as my grandpa
had stories from his childhood that had you laughing your butt
off. He had one or two extremely
creepy ones, too. He wouldn't tell them often and
he didn't tell us any scary stories when we were kids.
But once I was old enough and I happened to be picking his brain
one dark October evening. He told me one story.
I'll remember for as long as I live.
It all started when a hunter named Hiram Carter walked back
into town one day after spending all morning sitting in his blind
out in the woods. This was back in 1934 just after
prohibition ended and someone had set up a little Speakeasy
kind of joint over on Apple Lane.
Hiram walked straight into the Speakeasy drank a whole bottle
of beer and four or five goals and chased it down with a double
shot of whiskey. Then when both bottle and glass
were empty Hiram asked for another round.
Obviously a man doesn't drink like that unless something very
good has happened or something very very bad as happened.
So naturally Hiram's fellow patrons were pretty Keen to know
what the occasion was, but Hyrum didn't have any good news to
share. In fact, he was more frightened
than he'd ever been in his whole life.
He'd been sitting in his blind which for those that don't know
is basically like a camouflage shelter that Hunters hide in and
Hiram was there for hours before anything came along.
But sure enough, he starts seeing this big old Buck walking
through the trees towards him. It still some distance away.
So Hiram's got to wait as it gets closer and closer so he can
get the perfect shot. He's got that buck trained in
his sights. He studying his breathing then
something Spooks the deer and it goes bolting off through the
woods. Hyrum lowers his rifle trying to
spot whatever it was that spooked his dear then suddenly
he sees it something darts through the trees in front of
him too. Skinny to be a bear too big to
be a dog and it's moving so fast that it just about scared Hiram
half to death. He stays put in his hide for a
few minutes clutching his rifle with sweaty palms and then he
rushes out of his hide back to his truck and drives all the way
back into town as fast as the engine could handle.
He said that whatever it was it was stalking him all the way
back to his vehicle. It stayed just out of sight but
it was there following him and Hiram said it just about
frightened the life out of him. The boys down at the Speakeasy
told him it was probably just some coyote or a mangy bear that
didn't get enough food before hibernating.
But Hiram said he was certain about what he saw and he hadn't
seen nothing like it before in his life.
It was big. It was fast and most importantly
it seemed smart. After finishing his drinks Hiram
walked out of the Speakeasy and made his way home, but not
before warning every man in there to stay the hell out of
the woods. Something was out there and it
was dangerous. When word got around about
Hiram's and counter out in the woods, some folks took it with a
pinch of salt while the rest took it with a hole shaker.
See Hiram was in the habit of telling Tall Tales after a few
whiskeys. In fact, the only reason he was
hunting in the first place was so he could spend half his
grocery money on booze. Having the reputation that he
did no one took Hiram's claims all that seriously and went
about their business as usual. But just seven days later Hiram
story was the Talk of the Town and unlike the weak prior.
They took his claims much more seriously.
By the time my grandpa was a boy the site of the old plantation
house. The one that had been burned
down by the townsfolk had been abandoned and overgrown for
almost 50 years with no heirs to inherit the property.
The land had fallen under the temporary ownership of bland
counties controller whose only task was to find the property of
buyer. But then in the 40-plus years it
had been up for sale. The county hadn't been able to
find one. Even The Carpetbaggers from up
in New York and Chicago wanted nothing to do with it.
They'd roll through in their fancy stagecoaches and top hats
take one look at the land and the folks living on it and say,
thanks, but no. Thanks.
As a result. The land was all waste High
Grass wildflowers and Cypress trees surrounding the brick
foundations of the old plantation house local kids were
warned to stay away from the place, but I guess kids back
then were no different than kids today because they ignored their
parents warnings completely. I guess on account of how
mysterious and spooky it was but kids around my grandpa's age.
So about 10 or 11:00 would often sneak up to the old plantation
to explore the grounds. My grandpa said that he went up
there once or twice himself, but that he always got a bad feeling
whenever he was near that place. He'd heard the stories.
Everyone had about the plantation being haunted about
the town being cursed. It just wasn't enough to keep
the kids away. And for one little girl ignoring
those warnings almost cost her her life.
One day a little girl came running back into town with her
even younger sister in toe and they were both out of their poor
little Minds with fright. They'd been taking their beagle
pup out for some exercise and decided to take it onto the old
plantation grounds to run him around a little they were there
for no more than a few minutes before their dog.
Suddenly tucked its tail between its legs and started to grow.
The older girl gave the dog's leash at tug and it was only two
happy to get the hell away from that creepy old place.
But then as they're walking the older of the two girls sees
something moving in the trees surrounding the old plantation
something that scared the living hell out of her.
Something she later described as a monster.
Later when she was safe in a little calmer.
The older girl was asked for more details on what she'd seen.
She said that the monster had been creeping through the trees
on all fours at first, but when it saw her it raised itself up
on its hind legs to watch her from across the clearing.
Then when she and her sister started to run back towards
grape field the thing in the tree line dropped back on all
four legs again, then started running in their Direction like
it was trying to cut them off. The two girls ran as fast as
their legs could carry them with their dog doubling back every so
often to bark up a storm in the hopes of protecting his owners.
Thankfully the girls managed to make it into town before
whatever it was caught up with them.
But when they arrived they were sobbing something fierce.
The older of the two girls said the creature was huge with
shaggy hair all over its body but none at all around its
muzzle which appeared horribly misshapen and deformed this time
people took the claims much more seriously, but they still
thought that it must have been some kind of mangy bear that had
attacked the girls after their hibernation period if a bear
can't find itself a snack quick enough they can get really
hungry and you better believe that a hungry bear is a very
dangerous bear. And having something raid a few
chicken coops or butcher a few Hogs.
That was one thing but having the thing hunting the town's
children, that could not be tolerated.
The most accomplished hunter in great field a man named Rufus
Robinson volunteered to head out into the woods with his
Australian Shepherd. He said he'd come back with the
beasts head or he wouldn't come back at all.
Well a few days later rufus's Aussie shepherd came hobbling
back into town all on its Lonesome.
It walked right over to rufus's cabin.
But then instead of his porch the dog went and laid down on
his neighbors almost like it knew that Rufus wasn't coming
home. Folks said rufus's dog might
have run ahead gotten itself lost.
Then simply walked back home to wait for his master.
They'll be back in a few days. They said ain't no mangy bear
got the better of old Rufus. But Rufus never came back with
no mangy Bears head. In fact Rufus Robinson never
came back at all. And there was no sending a
search party in after him unless it's first and foremost task was
hunting down the bear that took him.
And that's when the town's folk formed a Hunting Party. six of
their best men would head out into the woods with shotguns and
rifles and bring home rufus's body and end the threat that
that mangy bear posed once and for all Well, according to a
member of The Hunting Party. They were out there for less
than 24 hours before they found the thing that had been stalking
the town's children, and it wasn't no bear.
One night. They set up a real simple.
Trap just laid some fresh meat as bait out in the open.
Then all they had to do was wait.
Well, they waited and they waited but nothing showed.
Then just when someone gets up to collect the meat so they can
move it someplace else bingo. The thing comes tearing through
the trees and attacks the man who approached the meat it
almost took a chunk of his arm before he managed to stick a
knife in the thing then once he was free of its grip his Hunting
Buddies emptied almost every shell they had into it and they
didn't stop firing until the Beast stopped moving.
Once they were quite certain. The thing was dead the hunters
approached shining their lanterns on the creature to get
a better look, Only then did they realize what they were
looking at? It wasn't any kind of bear.
It was a man his hair and beard were long and Shaggy his
unclothed body. So filthy and parts that the
dirt and mud appeared as a second kind of skin, wherever
there was bare skin such as his face his chest and his shoulders
there were hideous webs of burn scars so much so that the man
beneath had been robbed of his human appearance.
His spine was arched and contorted his hands and feet
bore heavy calluses and at the ends of long bony fingers
sprouted sharp filth and crusted clause.
Obviously, none of the men had ever seen anything quite like it
so they dragged the man's body Out of the Woods then woke up
the town's doctor to come inspect their quarry.
Now this doctor had been great Fields resident physician for
the better part of 50 years. He treated everyone in town and
had lived there since the 1870s including the old plantation
owner and his family. It was him who realized who the
man was why he was covered in Burn scars and why he'd been
living like a wild animal for what must have been decades.
It was one of the plantation owners Sons.
Back on the night of the plantation house being burned
down the mob in circled the building to make sure no one
could Escape. They took shots at anyone who
came near the windows or doors at least all except one.
The plantation house was huge. So the dozen or so men that made
up the mob had to space themselves out real wide to
cover all the angles one man stationed just off the east Wing
sees someone scrambling out of a smaller great.
He raced his rifle got ready to fire but then saw it was just a
boy. His skin all scorched and
blistering and he didn't have it in him to execute a child.
Besides he was so burned up that there was no way he'd survived
more than a day or two out there in the woods all alone.
So instead of filling him full of lead like they did with the
others who tried to escape the man let the boy go.
Having no idea that in decades to come his decision would come
back to quite literally haunt them.
No one knows how the boy survived out in the woods for so
long. Or why he'd chosen to live out
in the trails of Appalachia instead of trying to settle down
someplace. Most suspect that the grief of
losing his whole family so suddenly drove him insane and
that fear of man kind kept him living in the woods like some
type of animals. But there are few who agree on
how he came to look the way he did.
Obviously the scars were present all over his body being from the
fire, but what wasn't so clear was how the boy had come to be.
So comfortable running on all fours like some type of dog.
Some said that he must have been born that way and his appearance
was probably why he couldn't settle down anywhere.
They figured that since he got treated like a monster.
He started acting. Like one too, but others said
that he was perfectly healthy and that in slowly losing his
Humanity. He learned to run and Hunt like
an animal. Honestly, I don't know what to
make of any of this and neither did my grandpa.
He always thought it was some myth or Legend until his own Ma
and PAW could confirm that it was indeed the truth.
They said that the boy's death was just another in a long line
of murders that never saw Justice and since they couldn't
stand another one they decided to move.
Grandpa raised the point that it could have been murder of the
hunters were just defending themselves and his paw responded
with what I think are some wise words.
He said that the boy never really survived the plantation
fire that night. He was probably wandering around
the woods living like an animal never truly being a person.
Whether he came back to Great field for revenge or just to
revisit the place he grew up killing him meant finishing off
a murder that started 30 or 40 years early years.
And that's why people say the town is cursed not because
there's some evil spirit lurking around the place.
But because those who came before condemned those who came
after to have all the same blood on their hands.
My boots felt light on the Appalachian Trail and unspoken
promise of Freedom with each step.
I had managed to drag Sam an old College buddy into this plan.
A week in the wild I had said what could go wrong?
The Eastern Tennessee Woods echoed with a kind of Stillness
you'd pay top dollar for in therapy.
Sam and I weren't the hardcore hiker types know our hikes were
punctuated with detours to whatever local haunts we could
find. The plan was to walk the trail
sure, but also to soak in as much of the local color as we
could. Our packs were stuffed more with
Comfort than survival gear a decision that felt right every
time we pulled out a pair of dry socks or a snack.
That wasn't just trail mix. By the third day our easy Pace
brought us into Hancock County. We entered with the innocent aim
of stocking up on beer and maybe a bottle of Jack to toast to our
adventures. I still remember the chuckle
from the lady behind the counter at the General Store when we
asked where the liquor aisle was.
You boys aren't from around here.
Are you she asked her smile lined with the wisdom of someone
who knew the punchline to a joke.
We hadn't heard yet. We're just passing through Sam
replied looking to pick up some supplies.
Well, you'll find plenty of supplies, but if it's booze
you're after you're out of luck. This hears a dry county.
A dry county the words hung between us and unexpected
barrier to our evening plans. We bought what we could snacks
more snacks and a few more snacks and on her advice asked
around town. If someone could help us out
with our particular dilemma. The townsfolk were friendly
enough. Each person we asked us with
apologetic smiles and polite declined.
Wish I could help you boys out, but I'm staying local today
seemed to be the theme of the responses.
Disappointed we trudged back toward the trail the lack of
liquor weighing heavier than our packs.
That's when we saw him stepping out of the same General Store.
A guy about our age with a face that looked like its way around
a good time. He had that lean rugged look.
Someone who spent more time Outdoors than in his shirt faded
from the Sun jeans dusted with the telltale signs of the local
red clay. Hey, excuse me.
I called out my voice cutting through the quiet of the early
evening. He turned eyebrows raised in a
mix of curiosity and caution. I'm Mike and this is Sam we
heard you might be heading out of town.
Any chance you could help us pick up some beer.
His guarded expression shifted to a grin.
Sure, I could use the company you guys okay with a bit of a
drive. What started as a simple
question a minor plea for assistance was about to lead us
down a path neither of us expected?
As we climbed into his truck the Setting Sun cast Long Shadows
over the road hinting at the darker journey ahead.
As we rolled away from Hancock County the landscape shifted the
dense canopy giving way to open Skies our new friend who
introduced himself as Jake had a truck that smelled of leather
and Earth and his easy demeanor as he drove made the miles slip
by like Creek water over smooth stones.
So how long you boys been hitting the trail?
Jake asked his eyes flicking between the road and the
rearview mirror? About three days now.
I replied it's been more about the Escape than the hike really.
Jake nodded as if he understood that perfectly sometimes you
just got to get away from it all huh.
The conversation meandered through topics as varied as the
Landscapes we passed Jake talked about growing up in Tennessee
about the trails and the towns and what it meant to live with
the rhythm of the seasons. He spoke with that blend of
Pride and resignation you hear from people who love their home,
but no its limits intimately. It was when the topic turned to
our futile quest for alcohol that Jake's tone took on a
conspiratorial edge. You know, he began glancing at
us through the mirror. There is another place.
I know not exactly legal mind you but if you're looking for
real local flavor. His voice Trails off inviting
our curiosity. I exchanged a glance with Sam
The Thrill of the Forbidden added an edge to our adventure.
We hadn't anticipated but were not opposed to exploring.
You mean moonshine I asked. Jake smile was all the answer we
needed. Real moonshine made by a guy who
knows his craft but it's in a dry county too.
You're not cops. Are you he have joked but his
eyes searched ours for any sign of Deceit.
We laughed shaking our heads. No, just a couple of guys
looking for a good story to tell.
That seemed to put him at ease. Well, then if you're up for a
bit of a detour I can introduce you to some of the best shine
you'll ever taste. The decision didn't take long
curiosity that Relentless driver of human Folly nudged us
forward. Let's do it.
Sam said and I nodded in agreement.
Jake turned the truck onto a Less Traveled Road the Setting
Sun casting Long Shadows across the gravel.
As we bounce along the woods closed in around us and I
couldn't shake the feeling that we were diving deeper into the
unknown. Will be there in a bit Jakes
said his voice now lower almost Reverend.
Just a heads up. This isn't your typical roadside
stand? What we saw as we pulled up
wasn't what I had pictured. No quaint hidden Shack with
barrels and a smoking still but a larger building rough and
imposing. It looked more like a community
center abandoned by time except for the row of motorcycles lined
up out front. My heart sank a little.
Uh, Jake are you sure this is the place I asked the first
twinge of real apprehension squeezing my chest.
Trust me. He said with a grin that didn't
reach his eyes. You wanted authentic right
doesn't get more real than this. As we stepped out of the truck
the sound of our boots on gravel felt ominously final.
I looked at Sam his face mirroring.
My unease as we followed Jake towards what promised to be much
more than just an illicit transaction.
The door to the clubhouse swung open with a groan that fell too
cinematic like the first note of a score meant to unsettle.
Inside the air was thick with the scent of oil and tobacco and
undercurrent of adrenaline lacing through as we stepped
into the bike's domain. Jake led the way casual as if he
was walking into his own home, but Sam and I hung back just
slightly our senses heightened to every movement around us.
The walls were adorned with signs of Allegiance and
Brotherhood. patches and memorabilia that told stories of
loyalty and Wilder days make yourselves at home.
Jake said a bit too cheerfully his voice bounced oddly off the
concrete in would a dozen pairs of eyes turned toward us there
looks ranging from Curious to downright hostile the warmth of
the day outside didn't reach this place.
We barely had time to take a tentative seat at the bar when a
hush fell over the room. Through a door at the back a man
emerged brought and commanding his presence alone demanding
respect or fear. He locked eyes with Jake and
without a word the air shifted charged with an electricity that
felt like a storm about to break.
Jake approached him speaking in low tones.
We couldn't catch over the hum of conversation that resumed
nervously around us. Sam leaned over murmuring Mike.
I've got a bad feeling about this.
Before I could answer the quiet exploded into chaos.
The sound of a fist meeting flesh was startlingly clear.
Jake reeled from a Blow by the biker president his early
confident shattering like glass under a boot Panic clawed at my
throat as the president drag Jake back by the caller his
shouts filling the room punctuated by Jake's grunts of
pain. Are you trying to get us busted
you bring cops in here? The accusation was a slap of
reality against my already racing heart.
Sam and I stood our chairs scraping loudly against the
floor. The rooms attention pivoted to
us and for a moment. I felt like a deer caught in too
many headlights. No or not, I started but the
president cut me off pointing fiercely towards the exit get
out now. Relief was immediate and
overwhelming but it was Tangled with a nauseating guilt.
Jake was still being held now quieter the fight gone out of
him as quickly as it had escalated.
We can't just leave him. I said my voice low urgent He is
not your problem. One of the bikers said stepping
aside to clear our path to the door.
The president's eyes were on me hard and unyielding.
He was robbing you get out while you can.
Outside the night air was a cold slap to my heated face Sam and I
didn't speak as we hurried away the sounds of the clubhouse
fading behind us. Guilt nod at me for Jake.
For the thrill that had led us here for every step.
We took away from that place. The drive back was silent, each
of us lost in our own thoughts. It was only miles later the
clubhouse a nightmare in the rearview mirror that I could
breathe again the adrenaline slowly ebbing from my veins next
time we stick to the trail. Sam finally said his attempt at
a weary joke doing little to lift the heavy cloak of what ifs
and maybes that settled around us as we drove back into the
night leaving behind a story. We'd never forget but never
wanted to relive. Living in clinch Valley meant
being surrounded by the kind of beauty that could take your
breath away. The Lush Green Mountains Rose
around our little cabin their tops hidden by the morning fog
that seemed to hold secrets of its own.
I will a Mae Martin stood on the porch of our home my eyes
tracing the familiar ridges and valleys that I had come to know
so well. Life here was supposed to be
peaceful a perfect place for Alan and me to start our family.
But peace was a fleeting as the morning missed.
We married young both of us just 17.
It was a shotgun wedding pushed forward when we found out.
I was expecting. The joy of our soon-to-be
expanded family brought a fleeting Harmony.
Alden with his strong hands and warm smile promised me the Moon.
And I believed him. I believed that our little cabin
with its creaky wooden floors in the fire always burning in the
Hearth would be filled with laughter and love.
But as the leaves turned golden and fell to the ground, so too
did our happiness. I lost the baby Midway through
the pregnancy. The Lost devastated me, but
Alden he took it differently. He blamed me said it was my
fault for not being careful enough for not loving him
enough. His words cut deeper than the
cold wind of Appalachia and his warm smile turned cold.
Alden worked as a oil driller a job that took him down to Texas
for two weeks at a time. Those two weeks.
He was away were my respite My Little Slice of Heaven.
I cherished the silence that is absence brought the way the
house seemed to sigh and relief with me.
But the dread of his return grew with each passing day.
He was gone knowing that the man who would come back through that
door was not the one I married. His return marked the beginning
of my two weeks of hell. He drank the whiskey seemed to
fuel his anger his disappointment in me in US.
And he lashed out leaving marks. No one could see hidden beneath
my sleeves and skirts. I learned to Flinch at the sound
of his boots on the porch at the turn of the door handle.
It was during one of these dark times that Silas came into the
picture. Alden had asked his brother to
check on me while he was away. At first I was weary unsure if
Silas was just another spy for all Alden but Silas was
different. He had a gentleness about him
that Alden had lost long ago. He did the chores without
needing to be asked fix the broken steps the leaking roof.
And sometimes he just sat with me listening to the radio and
talking about everything and nothing one evening as the sun
dipped behind the Appalachian Mountains sending Long Shadows
across the valley. Silas asked me if I was happy.
It was a simple question, but one I hadn't asked myself in a
long time. Tears welled up in my eyes as I
shook my head. No, I was not happy.
That was the first time I admitted it out loud.
Silas listened as I poured out my heart telling him of the
abuse the loneliness and the despair.
In the flickering Candlelight of our kitchen.
I saw something in silas's eyes that I hadn't seen in anyone's
for a long time. genuine concerned it was then that I
began to feel a glimmer of hope. A whisper of something that
might resemble happiness. As we sat there talking into the
night. I realized that perhaps just
perhaps there was a way out of this Darkness.
And maybe just maybe Silas would be my beacon.
The sun was just beginning to rise painting the sky and shades
of pink and orange as I stood at the kitchen window watching the
day awaken. Each morning brought a new sense
of dread but also a flicker of Hope, especially since Silas had
become part of my life. Those days when Alden was away
working in Texas Where My Sanctuary my brief escape from
The Nightmare my life had become.
Silas started coming by more often under the pretense of
helping around the house or just checking in on me as Alden had
asked. But we both knew these visits
were more than that now. We talked about everything the
books. We liked the places.
We dreamed of visiting and sometimes just the simple beauty
of clinch Valley that seemed so untainted unlike our lives.
One afternoon Silas brought a small radio and we sat on the
porch listening to music from far away places.
It was during one of those moments with a soft country
Melody playing in the background that Silas took my hand.
It was a simple gesture but it felt like a Lifeline.
I looked into his eyes and I didn't see all these brother.
I saw a man who made me feel safe under stood and importantly
valued. I care about you.
Will Amaze Silas said softly his voice barely above the whistling
wind. I hate seeing you hurt like
this. His words warmed a part of my
heart that I thought had gone cold forever.
We sat there for what felt like hours our hands entwined letting
the music envelop us in a cocoon where the harsh reality of my
marriage couldn't reach us. But with each visit the weight
of our secret grew heavier, we were both aware of the sanctity
of the vows. I had made to Alden however
broken they might have become by his own cruelty.
It felt as if every stolen moment with Silas was both a
salve to my wounds and a new cut to my conscience.
One evening Silas stayed later than usual.
Alden would be returning the next day and a sense of urgency
hung between us. Willow we can't keep doing this
he whispered his voice thick with emotion.
It's not right to you or even to Allen.
I knew he was right, but the thought of not having Silas in
my life was more painful than any physical wound.
Alden had inflicted. What are we going to do?
I asked my voice barely a whisper fearing even the walls
might hear. We have to decide will Amaze
either we stop this now or you have to leave him you deserve
happiness. Not this not a life filled with
fear and pain Silas said his tone resolute.
That night I lay awake thinking about everything Silas had said
by morning. My decision was made I couldn't
and wouldn't live in fear. Any longer with silas's love
giving me strength. I began to plan my escape from
Alden the next few days were a blur as I packed my things
secretly each item stashed away a silent Testament to the years
of suffering. I wrote a letter to Alden
telling him everything. I felled sparing no detail of
the pain. He had caused and my resolve to
leave him. When the letter was done, I felt
a mix of relief and overwhelming sadness.
I knew there was no turning back now.
I was leaving to meet Silas clutching not just my suitcase,
but the fragile hope of a new beginning.
As I wrote The Wagon to Bean Station where Silas and I plan
to start our journey to California.
I felt the chains of my old life breaking link by link.
The cool morning Air nipped at my cheeks as I stepped off the
wagon at Bean Station my heart pounded with a mixture of
excitement and fear. Today was the day I would start
a new with Silas. My eyes scan the small bustling
station for his familiar face, but in Stead a chilling sight
caught my breath. It was silas's favorite felt hat
and jacket, but the man wearing them was not Silas.
As the figure turned toward me my heart sank into the pit of my
stomach. Alden it was Alden wearing his
brother's clothes My Mind Race trying to piece together how he
could have known where to find me.
Panic clawed at my throat as he approached his steps steady and
sure his eyes cold and unreadable Alden.
What how did you my words stumbled out tripping over my
shock and fear? Thought you were smart.
Eh Willa Mae leaving me for my own brother.
His voice was low laced with a bitterness that sent shivers
down my spine. I stepped back, but he was too
quick grabbing my arm with a grip that promised pain.
He didn't wait for my response. With a forceful pole he led me
away from the station away from the public eyes.
That might have offered some semblance of safety.
We wrote in Silence. The only sound the clopping of
the horse's Hooves and my heart pounding in my ears.
I didn't know where we were going until we turned up the
path to silas's house. As we approached my worst fears
were confirmed. Hanging from the porch beam was
Silas lifeless a scream tore through my lips a sound of pure
Agony and despair Alden dismounted dragging me closer to
the horrifying sight. Look at him.
Will Amaze. Look at what you did alden's
voice was a harsh whisper in my ear.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from Silas from the man.
I loved now gone forever because of the Twisted path my life had
taken. Tears blurred my vision and
grief overwhelmed me as Alden continued his cruel taunts.
Finally he forced me back onto the horse.
We're going to the sheriff. You're going to tell them
everything. But alden's plans changed
quickly. Upon arriving in town.
He didn't head for the sheriff's office.
But in Stead handed me over to the deputies telling them where
to find silas's Body. He confessed to his actions his
words cold and detached. They took him away leaving me
alone with my grief. The next few days were a blur.
I was lost in a fog of sorrow and shocked when they went to
collect silas's body. It was gone vanished as if it
had never been there. And with him, I felt my last
connection to this world slip away that night.
I made my decision. I couldn't stay in clinch Valley
not with the ghosts of my past haunting every corner.
I left under the cover of Darkness leaving behind the pain
the sorrow and the love that had turned so tragically wrong.
The morning after I left they found a cart in front of the
Sheriff's Office. Underneath a tattered sheet lace
Silas embalmed and pristine with a wedding band on his finger a
band. I had never seen him wear.
It was a final message a sign that perhaps Silas was still
with me in some way guiding me as I fled from the horrors of my
past searching for peace that I hoped still existed somewhere in
the world. The region surrounding the
fabled Appalachian Mountains our home to some fascinating but
often misunderstood myths and legends.
Many are already familiar with the likes of the Mothman the
red-eyed harbinger of Doom who lurks at the locations of
impending disasters or the Flatwoods Monster who many
believe is an example of extraterrestrial visitation.
Yet fewer are familiar with another Appalachian Legend,
which after some research might just be rooted in a very
unsettling truth. In certain parts of Southern and
Eastern Appalachia, some folks still talk of an eerie nocturnal
race of implant humanoids known as the moon-eyed people.
The moon-eyed people are said to be around four feet high with
pale ghostly bodies and large slightly bulbous eyes.
They are mostly harmless and only ever come out at night due
to their General fear of humanity.
But go walking on the trails where the moon is big and bright
and you might just spot a moon-eyed person bathed in
silvery light. To most the moon-eyed people
sound like nothing but a quaint rural folk tale but like many
so-called myths and legends there can be varying degrees of
truth to them. And in the case of nocturnal
gnomes that degree of Truth might be very large indeed.
Prior to the removal of 1838 North Georgia and other parts of
the Appalachians were still part of the Cherokee Nation.
In 1782. The Region's governor was a man
named John Sevier. That same year severe paid a
visit to the Cherokee Chief ocoa at Fort Mountain who had
recently reached the ripe old age of 90 years old.
Given his status as the regional Governor severe in ocda
dedicated a great deal of their discussion to local politics.
Severe saw the old Chiefs wisdom yet.
He also sought his experience and before long the conversation
turned to history. Severe and O'Connor began to
discussing the origins of the Cherokee with the old Chief
describing how his people had migrated to Appalachia from the
Northern Great Lakes region. Okota claimed his ancestors had
arrived to find another people had settled the area a people so
sophisticated that they turned the mountain into a veritable
Fortress. Hence why it was given the name.
The Cherokee fought hard to conquer the indigenous tribe,
but eventually prevailed and drove their enemy from the
region before settling it themselves.
Severe then asked the old Chief if he knew anything of the
Vanquish tribe what he was told shocked him deeply.
Chief of his forefathers told him that those who had occupied
Fort Mountain before the Cherokee were and I quote white
men from across the Great Sea. The chief went on to describe
how these moon-eyed people earned their name.
Not only did they have huge dislike eyes much larger than
any humans, but they evolved to be viciously effective nocturnal
Hunters with natural night vision.
So strong that it struck fear into the hearts of the Cherokee
who didn't dare Venture away from their camps after Dark.
Governor severe was stunned and assumed that these caucasoid
tribes people were merely the stuff of Legend.
Yet Chief Ocoee assured him that his account was no mere myth.
Severe promised to return the following spring and in the
company of a historian so that the Chiefs account could be
officially recorded. Yet sadly when severe returned
in the spring of 1783. He discovered that the elderly
Chief had passed away. Despite Chief.
Oh, kota's death rumors of the moon-eyed people did not abate.
In fact almost every band of Appalachian Cherokee was
familiar with the Legends so much so that it attracted the
attention of a man named Benjamin Smith Barton.
Born in 1766 in the British colony of Pennsylvania, Dr.
Barton was one of the early United States most prominent
Physicians. He studied at the Philadelphia
school of medicine, but also at Scotland's University of
Edinburgh and Germany is University of Gottingen.
He was also such a famous and well-respected figure that he
received honorary diplomas from both the Lisbon Academy and
Keele University. At one time Dr. Barton
specialized in botany and after corresponding with naturalists
throughout the United States in Europe.
He published the first American textbook on the subject yet
around the end of the 18th century Barton became fascinated
with the subject of anthropology and more specifically the
origins of humanity. After many years of study Dr.
Barton published his 1797 book new views of the origin of the
tribes and nations of America. The book includes excerpts of an
interview with a US army colonel named Leonard Marbury fluent in
the Cherokee language. Colonel Marbury acted as an
intermediary between the government and the natives for
the better part of 20 years. And in that time had heard many
a story regarding the so-called moon-eyed people.
The Cherokee tell us that when they first arrived in the
country, which they inhabit they found it possessed by a certain
moon-eyed people. Colonel Marbury explained These
wretched people could not see in the daytime and were expelled
following a brief but bloody war.
At first Dr. Barton theorized that there had been some kind of
miscommunication and that these pale Moonlight people were not
some previously undiscovered race of stunted humanoids, but
rather a collection of French settlers, the Cherokee had
sometimes described the Moonlight people as possessing
what they described as alien or unfamiliar weaponry.
Yet when Dr. Barton interviewed one frequent visitor to the
Cherokee he claimed these alien weapons were little more than
hose axes guns and other metallic utensils that had been
brought to the New World by the French.
Many others have supported this assertion claiming the moon-eyed
people were no more than Rogue European settlers who
specialized in hunting by Night rather than by day.
Yet when South Carolina historian BR Carroll interviewed
Merchant Explorer James Adair, he refuted any and all claims
that the moon-eyed people were European.
Born in the Irish County of Antrim in 1709 Adair to the new
world with a British trade Mission at the age of 26.
He spent the next 40 years living among the natives chiefly
among the Chickasaw and Eastern Choctaw while being almost
entirely cut off from the outside world.
In 1775 when a dare was in his 60s, he was encouraged to pen an
account of his experience as with the native tribes. titling
the book a history of the American Indians the books
cemented a dare status as one of the most knowledgeable Indian
experts of his generation. Hence why he was sought out by
the author b r Carroll. And when asked if he was
familiar with the so-called Moon Knight people he replied in the
affirmative. A dare to that almost all of the
Appalachian tribes had stories concerning this primordial race
of albino humanoids, but it was not the frequency with which he
encountered these stories that convinced a dare of their
veracity. It was the consistency with
which they were described. Each and every tribe spoke of
the moon-eyed people being stunted nocturnal and Incredibly
pale and what's more most tribes agreed that the cause of their
malformation was that they chose to live underground?
Scientifically speaking. The moon-eyed people's wide-eyed
form is entirely consistent with an offshoot of humanity having
taken to living underground especially if they've done so
for thousands upon thousands of years and while this all might
sound like the stuff of Science Fiction.
It is firmly rooted in truth. Back in 2003 a team comprised of
local and Australian archaeologists began Excavating
in an Indonesian cave known as Liang bua in the hopes of
uncovering pre-modern human remains.
Two years later the team was undertaking a routine dig when
they discovered evidence of a human skull when a section of
this skull was sent away for analysis Indonesian scientists
believed that due to its relatively small Dimensions.
The skull must have belonged to a child.
Yet after more of the person's skull was uncovered in analyzed.
It was discovered that their teeth were that of a full-grown
adult. The Remains they discovered were
not those of a homo sapien they belonged to a previously
undiscovered relative homo floresiensis named after the
island of Flores in which they were found.
Homo floresiensis were determined to be an extinct
species of small archaic human that inhabited the island until
the arrival of modern humans about 50,000 years ago.
The remains found in the Liang bua cave belonged to an adult
female believed to have stood at three feet seven inches tall
which earned her the nickname the little lady of Flores.
If the Cherokee did indeed migrate to Appalachia around
12,000 years ago, which is when the last of the Flores Hobbit
people are believed to have died out.
It's frighteningly feasible that they encountered a prehistoric
race of sub-human cave dwellers against whom they waged a
terrible and ultimately genocidal War.
But then again, how could the Cherokee be so certain that
every last one of the moon-eyed people were extinct.
Perhaps they simply took shelter in the deepest recesses of their
Subterranean settlements and became even more cautious
following the arrival of European settlers.
Maybe the stories of stunted ethereal looking beings roaming.
The Appalachian Trail aren't just stories.
But rather an aspect of ancient anthropology that we have yet to
fully explain. After all if the little lady of
Flores and her kin were only discovered in 2003, what else
has mankind yet to discover regarding our ancient and
mysterious Origins. I remember the day we moved to
the holler like it was yesterday, even though it was a
bunch of years ago. My dad said we were going to
live in Kentucky right in the foothills of the Appalachian
Mountains. I didn't know much about it then
but I learned fast that life there was different from
anywhere else. We lived in what everyone called
a holler. It's kind of like a cul-de-sac
but in being surrounded by other houses, we were nestled between
big old Hills covered in thick trees.
Our house was a cozy double wide trailer in the Middle with
family home scattered around but none directly behind or across
from us. It was just us and the woods.
My grandma whoever won called Grahams was pretty serious about
her rules. At first I thought they were
kind of silly like something out of an old story book.
Don't mess with the wild animals.
She'd say or never go into the woods by yourself.
Those made sense kinda but then there were the weirder ones
don't whistle at night. If you hear your name called
from the woods don't answer it and the strangest of all if you
see someone, you know in the woods pretend you didn't.
I figured maybe these were just things old folks believed in
like superstitions, but there was something about the way
grams looked when she said them it made my stomach twist a
little. Life in the holler was quiet
mostly. My dad worked a lot and when he
was home, he liked to spend time Outdoors.
We'd often take walks along a path.
He'd moved through the tall grass and bushes.
Just left of our place. He said it was good to know our
own patch of land. Well.
Sometimes on special nights we'd camp out there just a stone's
throw from our house so we could still keep an eye on Grands.
One night Dad decided it was perfect for camping.
We set up our old green tent and gathered some wood for a
campfire. As the sun set the sky turned a
deep orange then purple and finally black.
The stars came out, but they were often hidden by The
Towering trees around us. We roasted marshmallows and dad
told me stories about his childhood adventures in these
very Woods. It felt magical like we were
part of the Wild. The sounds of the night were
loud around us crickets chirping the occasional rustle of small
animals in the underbrush and the distant hoot of an owl.
It was peaceful. And for a moment, all of
Graham's strange rules seemed unnecessary.
As the fire crackled dad checked his watch.
I need to head back to the house for a bit check on Grahams.
You gonna be okay here for a few minutes.
He asked tossing another log onto the fire.
Yeah, I'll be fine. I said trying to sound braver
than I felt. He nodded gave me a pat on the
shoulder and walked back up The Path towards the house.
Sitting there alone the fires warmth felt good, but the woods
seemed to close in around me. The noises of the night crew
softer and a chill crept up my spine.
I pulled my jacket tighter around me staring into the
Flames wondering if maybe just maybe grams is rules were there
for a reason? There I was sitting by the
campfire trying to remember the exact way the Stars looked
because Dad had once told me that no two nights under the sky
are ever the same. The woods were alive with sounds
just like they always were Crickets were singing and
somewhere far off and Owl was hooting like it was talking to
the moon. But then something weird
happened. It was like someone had turned
down the volume of the world. The cricket stopped mid chirp
and even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
I shivered not from cold. But because the silence felt
wrong it was too quiet too still.
I scooted closer to the fire hoping the crackle of the Flames
would make things feel normal again.
That's when I noticed the taste. It was like I had a mouthful of
pennies that sharp metallic Tang that made me want to spit.
I didn't know what was happening and I really wished dad was
there and said of back at the house?
The fire popped a spark flying up into the dark and I jumped.
I just the fire just the fire. I told myself trying not to
think about grams as rules or what might be out there be on
the light of our camp then out of nowhere the first drop of
rain hit my forehead. It startled me and I looked up
just as the sky opened up. The rain wasn't heavy yet, but
the sound of it hitting the leaves brought some noise back
to the woods. I felt a little relieved until
the first flash of lightning lit up everything the whole world
seemed to freeze in that white light for just a second.
I saw past the stream beyond the yard and over the road.
There was something standing there.
It was too far and too quick to see clearly, but it looked like
a person only wrong. The next Rumble of Thunder was
distant, but it felt like it rolled right under my feet.
I squinted into the darkness trying to see if the figure was
still there. But it was too dark and the next
flash of lightning was a long time coming.
When it did the figure was closer near the first line of
trees. It didn't move like a person it
sort of wobbled like a shadow that didn't know how to be real.
I stood up the fire was behind me my only source of warmth and
safety, but it didn't feel safe anymore.
It felt like a beacon calling attention to me standing there
alone. Dad, I whispered but the wind
swallowed the sound I wanted to run but my legs didn't want to
move they knew running in the dark in the rain wasn't a good
idea. Then the figure was in the
middle of the road the last flash of lightning before the
storm really hit showed its standing there looking right at
me. I couldn't see its face couldn't
see much of anything really, but I felt it watching me.
That was enough. I turned and ran not caring
about the rain or the mud or anything.
I ran all the way back to our house burst through the door and
slammed it shut behind me. My heart was pounding so hard.
I thought it would break. My ribs grams was at the sink
washing dishes. She looked up surprised to see
me. So wet and scared.
I tried to tell her about the figure, but my words came out
all jumbled. Before I knew it Dad was there
locking doors and pulling curtains?
I didn't sleep in the 10th at night.
I didn't sleep much at all. The next morning fell different
the sun was out and the birds were singing again.
Like they were trying to make up for being so quiet during the
storm. But even with the sunlight
streaming Through the Windows and the normal sounds of the
hollering the air I couldn't shake off the fear from last
night. Dad, and I went out to check on
the campsite. The path was muddy from the rain
and our footstep squelched loudly as we walked.
When we got there, the first thing we saw was our tent.
Or what was left of it. The door of the tent looked like
something had ripped it off. It wasn't torn or cut more like
it had been pulled apart by something strong.
Dad frowned as he examined it this wasn't an animal he
muttered more to himself than to me.
I just nodded not knowing what to say the image of that strange
figure by the trees flashed in my mind and I felt that weird
metallic taste creeping back into my mouth.
We didn't stay long at the campsite back home Grahams was
waiting for us. She had heard about what
happened from Dad and she had that look on her face.
The one that said she was worried but trying not to show
it the next few weeks were strange in the holler.
I wasn't the only one who felt uneasy something had shifted
even the adults were acting differently.
They started accompanying us kids to the bus stop every
morning which never used to happen before.
Dad had to go to work late because he was one of the adults
who stayed with us until the bus came.
I tried talking about what I saw that night a few times but it
was like the adults had made a pact not to discuss it.
Whenever I brought it up, they changed the subject or tell me
not to worry about it. It was frustrating.
It felt like they knew something.
They were telling me. Years passed and I grew up but I
never forgot about that night. It wasn't until I was in my
twenties at a family gathering for Halloween that I got some
answers. I started telling my cousins
about what happened thinking it was just a spooky story for the
occasion. But my aunt overheard me and got
really upset. Don't you tell them that she
snapped don't you put that evil on them?
Her reaction shocked me it was the first time an adult had
reacted. So strongly to the story later.
She calmed down and explained why she had been so angry.
She told me about the goat man a creature from local Legends
known for causing fear and mischief.
It was the same name. She had shouted at me during the
party. Suddenly all those years of
being shushed off made sense. The adults hadn't been trying to
ignore the problem. They had been trying to protect
us from it from the fear. And the truth of the Goatman.
I wish I could say knowing the name made everything better, but
it didn't. It did give me a sense of
closure though to finally understand what I had seen that
night. And now whenever I visit the
holler I make sure to remember Graham's rules because some
things are better left alone. everyone thinks wouldn't it be
great to come out to the forest and live in a fire tower?
But imagine being out here alone for weeks at a time.
There's some weird creepy stuff out in these Woods.
I know because I've seen it myself.
A lot of hikers and campers go missing around here some return
with stories. You wouldn't believe others
never come back. I'm one of those people I went
missing for four days and I'm lucky to still be alive if
you're ever out in the woods and you hear sirens run.
So if you've ever thought about living in a fire tower, it's not
like a long vacation in the national parks.
In reality you end up carrying water food books and other
supplies up 11 flights of stairs all to live in a 10 by 10 room
and sleep on a bunk bed that's been used by 100 other people.
Yes, the view from the walk around deck is spectacular.
And if you're good with being on your own it might be a good fit
for you. But today was a very bad day.
I'm standing here in a tiny room 120 feet up in the air watching
rain come down and buckets Thunder is booming and the wind
must be upwards of 60 miles an hour.
So the whole Tower is swaying back and forth my dog whose
terrified of loud noises is hiding under the bed.
To top it all off. I left my boots on the porch and
they're now filled with at least six inches of water.
On the positive side after a heavy rain like this.
I won't have to worry about fires on the other hand.
There's going to be a lot of debris to clean up the rain
continued for the rest of the day and on through the night.
When I woke the next morning sunlight was peeking through the
clouds. I had to Coke my dog Molly a
three-year-old border. Collie.
I got from a dog shelter when she was six months old out from
under the bed with scrambled eggs and bacon bits mixed in
with her dog food. Border Collies are working dogs.
So they don't like being left alone for long periods.
They like to be close to their person.
And she is an escape artist. She can open a closed door and
climb over a six foot fence. Luckily, I work for the forest
service. It's a take your dog to work
kind of job and she has proven herself to be a valuable part of
the team. Once when I was clearing a trail
two panicked parents ran up to me, they said they were hiking
with their nine year old son Daniel, but when they turned
around he was gone. They called and searched for
over an hour before seeking help.
I had them take me back to where they'd last seen him.
And Molly saved the day. Dogs can hear much better than
we can so I blew the emergency whistle.
I had in my gear and had us all stay completely quiet.
Molly must have heard him calling for help because she
took off into the woods. After a 40-minute Trek through
the undergrowth we found him exhausted and pretty scratched
up. But okay.
I walked with the family back to their car.
And while we were walking. I asked Daniel what happened?
He said he was following his parents on the trail and looking
for some cool rocks for his collection.
Suddenly, he saw something moved beyond the trees.
So we stopped to get a better look about 10 feet off the
trail. He saw a giant white owl just
sitting there staring right at him.
Daniel took a few steps off the trail to get closer the huge
bird fluttered its wings and hopped a little further into the
woods. Daniel had almost caught up to
it when it disappeared. In its place was a small black
stone. Daniel said the stone had
strange markings on it. He picked it up put it in his
pocket and turned around to head back towards his parents.
But instead of seeing the trail. He saw a high rock wall going at
least 50 feet straight up. He said no matter which way he
went he couldn't find his way back to the trail when Daniel
started getting tired. He remembered to stay in one
place to make it easier for people to find him.
So he sat down under a large tree and called for help but no
one came and here's the really strange part.
The boy had been lost for maybe two and a half hours at most but
Daniel said he was gone for three days.
He said he saw the sun go down three times and he never heard
anyone calling for him. But every few hours, he would
hear something big walking through the woods.
Daniel couldn't see what it was. He said he was too scared to
look he just hid behind the tree and tried to stay quiet.
The only thing he saw was Molly running towards him right before
he got rescued. I asked Daniel if I could see
the stone he found but after searching through his pockets,
he couldn't find it. He said he must have lost it
over there. The way Daniel said over there
made it sound like it was another planet.
We got back to their car. They thanked Molly and me again
and headed home. But the parents must have called
the local newspaper because the following week a reporter came
out to take some photos of Molly.
They put her picture under the headline hero dog finds missing
boy. She's been a bit of a local
celebrity after that sometimes a hike or will recognize her and
whenever we're in town, she always gets a free scoop of ice
cream and Molly seems to really enjoy the forest ranger
lifestyle, but she is afraid of loud noises like thunder so I
couldn't really blame her for hiding under the bed during last
night's storm. I spent the morning after the
storm picking up branches from around the base of the tower.
Once that was clear Molly and I checked the trails.
There's really only one main trail this far out into the
forest. It enters the clearing by the
fire tower from the south then keeps going farther north.
There are a few small offshoots in overlooks into the valley,
but there are all dead ends. I found a few small trees
blocking the path and those were easy enough to clear by hand.
As I tossed those into the woods Molly helped by dragging away
some of the smaller branches. A few miles from the fire tower
a huge pine tree had come down right across the trail.
That was a bigger job involving a chainsaw.
So Molly and I took a break for an early lunch.
I was sitting on a log finishing up a bag of chips when I noticed
Molly was acting strange. Ordinarily when I'm eating
something shareable Molly will be staring at me with the
intensity of a thousand white hot suns.
But she was looking off Trail towards the valley her head was
tilted to the side and she was whining softly.
What is it girl? I stopped chewing to listen but
I didn't hear anything Molly and I are always out in the woods.
She completely ignores rabbits and squirrels and barely gives
deer a second look, so I thought maybe a mountain lion was
passing by Molly took a few more steps into the woods when I
walked up next to her I could see she was trembling following
her gaze. I noticed an overgrown path an
offshoot from the main trail that I had never seen before.
Maybe that Fallen pine tree had blocked it from View.
Curious now I carefully headed down what remained of the old
trail. I knew it couldn't go very far
Because unless I gotten completely turned around the
path should end at a steep Cliff overlooking the valley. 10
minutes later. I came to the end of the trail.
Blocking the way were two huge Boulders with a 10 foot opening
between them. The opening was blocked by a
massive Deadfall of Tangled branches and small trees.
There was no way around on the other side of the boulders.
There was a steep drop off into the valley.
What the hell is this? I mumbled the whole thing looked
strange. It looked old sharp and
dangerous. For some reason it reminded me
of a Stephen King book pet cemetery when the old guy in the
new neighbor climb over a huge Deadfall at night to bury a dead
cat. After standing there for a few
minutes. I decided to head back to the
main trail to get back to work and start cutting up that Fallen
pine tree. I'd made up my mind to ask
Chester if he knew anything about the old hidden path and
the massive block of piled up branches.
Chester had been a park ranger in this area for at least 25
years. He knew this park inside and out
if anyone would know about it, he would.
I started walking back when I realized Molly wasn't with me.
I turned to see her about 80 feet back standing perfectly
still staring at The Deadfall. Her head was tilted like she was
listening to Something in the distance all of a sudden she
took a running leap up onto the Deadfall and started climbing.
No, no Molly come. I yelled running back towards
her. But she didn't stop by the time
I got back to the Deadfall her tail was just disappearing over
the top. I ran around the side of one of
the boulders still calling for her.
But I couldn't see anything only a sheer drop.
I heard Molly bark from the other side, but when she barked
again a few minutes later, she sounded much farther away.
I ran back to the main trail to grab my pack with my supplies.
I quickly hid the chainsaw and tools off Trail in case any
hikers with children came through.
I rushed back to The Deadfall and started climbing.
It was only about 15 feet high, but it was dangerous a couple of
times branches broke under my weight and I almost fell
through. This is a great way to break a
leg. I thought to myself.
Reaching the top. I looked down to find a small
path at the bottom of the Deadfall.
It looked like it was carved right out of the side of the
mountain. On the left side of the little
two foot path was the Rocky Face of the mountain.
On the right side was a sheer drop-off.
I swung my leg over and started climbing down the other side of
the Deadfall. If I fell now and miss the path,
I'd enjoy a 200 foot drop straight down to the valley
floor. No wonder they blocked this
Trail. Breathing a sigh of relief my
boots finally hit Solid Ground. I used the high vantage point to
check for any signs of Molly. But all I could see was the
Steep Trail. I was standing on slowly
descending down the mountain and into the tree line.
There were no clearing that I could see in the valley just
dense forest. So I started down I had to watch
my step because every once in a while a chunk of the trail had
fallen away and there would be a two foot section of open air.
But about halfway down I began to notice a slight Haze along
the base of the trees. The closer I got to the valley
floor the more the light missed turned into a heavy fog.
It was cool and damp at the bottom of the trail.
The temperature must have dropped 10 or 15 degrees.
I called out for Molly but the sound of my voice seemed to fade
in the Mist. So I blew my emergency whistle
Molly would hear that from a long way off.
I listened for any sign of her but heard nothing.
Looking down. I noticed paw prints in The Damp
ground heading into the forest. So I followed 30 minutes later.
I lost Molly's Trail. I decided to walk in a large
Circle and try to look for any paw prints.
I marked my starting point with a piece of rope tied to a
massive oak tree after 45 minutes of walking through
dense. Forest.
I realized I was lost. It was hard to see 10 feet in
front of me through the heavy fog and I started to get the
feeling that something was watching me.
Shaking off the paranoia. I blew my whistle again to see
if Molly could find me. The sound might also scare off
any mountain lions. Then I sat down on a log for a
drink. I was putting the canteen away
when a man stepped out from the trees.
He was young maybe in his 20s, then in tattered clothes with an
old backpack slung over his shoulders.
Startled I said hey, I'm looking for my dog.
Are you okay? Without saying a word he put his
hand up to cover his mouth. Signaling for me to keep quiet
he pointed into the trees. I felt the vibration through the
soles of my boots. It was a ways off, but every
four or five seconds, I could feel the ground shake slightly.
Then I heard it a soft. Boom.
The sound would repeat every few seconds.
It was like something huge was walking through the valley.
And it was getting closer. I looked over to the guy and saw
that he had plastered himself behind a large tree.
And that's when I heard the siren.
It was so loud. I actually fell back onto the
ground and the sound was coming from above the tree line.
This thing whatever it was seemed close now.
I stayed low the ground shook with each step.
There was a fallen law on the ground next to me and I saw it
roll away to the left. It was the next blast of the
siren that got me moving. It was so loud that I could feel
my ear drums ringing. It sounded like it was almost on
top of me. I scrambled towards the nearest
tree and held onto it my face pressed into the bark then there
was silence. Everything was completely still.
I didn't move I didn't even breathe and then it was moving
again moving away from us. I thought about Molly how she
was so afraid of loud noises. She must be as far away from
here as possible. I hope she was okay.
I looked over to where the guy had been hiding but he was gone.
Legs shaking I slid down to the ground and tried to catch my
breath. It was then that Molly's head
poked through the underbrush. Molly man, am I glad to see you?
I patted my leg for her to come, but she didn't move.
It's okay girl. Come on.
Let's get out of here. But Molly stayed where she was
whining softly. She looked back into the brush.
Then took a small step towards me and something came with her
out of the bushes. It was a little girl with long
dark hair. Maybe nine years old.
She was wearing a Rugrats t-shirt and she was clutching
Molly's fur like it was a Lifeline in the ocean.
I could see the girl was scared. So I spoke as quietly as I
could. Hey there I see you've met
Molly. She's a good dog.
The girl looked down at Molly and then back up at me.
What do you say the three of us find our way out of here?
She stood there motionless for a full minute that gave a slight
nod. Okay, good you hold on to Molly
so she doesn't get lost. Can you take my hand?
I stood where I was and held my hand out toward her after a
moment. She slowly came toward me and
took it. Grabbing my backpack.
I pulled out a fresh water bottle and offered it to the
girl. I bet your thirsty.
Would you like some water? But she just stood there staring
at me. Okay, not right now.
We'll try again. Later.
Then I looked down at Molly and said let's go home girl.
She sniffed at the air and then headed into the forest.
We followed close behind. Twice more we heard something
huge walking through the trees once from a distance and once
too close for comfort. We stayed silent and unmoving
until the danger passed. We walked for hours.
I was sure we'd never find our way out.
We eventually decided to sit down to rest and I was once
again trying to get the girl to take some water.
Suddenly Molly jumped to her feet.
Her head tilted to the side like she was listening to Something
in the distance. Then she took off straight into
the woods. I grabbed the girl's hand and we
ran after her whenever Molly got too far ahead.
She would stop and wait for us. She'd keep barking till we
caught up then she'd take off running again.
When I saw the rope tied around the tree I'd used for a marker.
I breed the huge sigh of relief. It was only a little farther
till we reached the trail that led up and out of the valley.
As we came out of the Mist I couldn't believe my eyes.
Chester I mumbled there was park ranger Chester miles with a
relieved look on his face. He had a length of rope tied
around his waist. Jim thank God come on.
He said hurry. I picked up the girl and we made
our way back up The Path carved out of the Cliff face as we
climbed. I told Chester about the hike I
saw in the valley. He said he'll have to find his
own way out. We're not going back there.
The only reason you three got out is because Molly heard my
emergency whistle. When we got to the top Chester
took off the rope and tied it around the girl's waist.
Then told her to climb over The Deadfall slowly and carefully we
climbed up right behind her. I carried Molly onto one arm
when we made it to Solid Ground on the other side.
We stopped to catch our breath. All of a sudden I was incredibly
thirsty. I pulled out the water bottles
gave one to the girl and we both drank until the bottles were
empty. Easy easy there.
You don't want to make yourself sick a little at a time.
Chester said taking a sip from his canteen.
Jim I see you and Molly have a new traveling Companion now who
have we here Chester asked I just shook my head.
She hasn't said a word I replied.
That's okay. Let's all get back to the fire
tower and we'll figure things out from there.
Chester replied with a smile Molly took the lead with the
girl following close behind Chester I said quietly if you've
got your phone with you call for an ambulance now because it'll
take them over an hour to reach us.
Chester shook his head no calls. He pointed towards the girl.
I'll explain later. I looked over at him wondering
what was going on, but I trusted Chester.
He's a good guy. So I just nodded and kept
walking. By the time we got back to the
fire tower the sun was setting we were all exhausted.
The girl refused to go more than three feet away from Molly.
So we made a campfire in the clearing below the tower.
We cooked up some food and set up a small tent for her and
Molly to sleep in. Chester and I sat by the
campfire and had a couple of cold beers when we were sure the
girl was sound asleep by turned to him and asked so what the
hell is going on? She needs to get checked out by
a doctor and her family needs to be informed now.
How long do you think you've been gone Chester asked?
What does that have to do with anything?
I replied. Just answer the question.
He said I sighed okay, I guess I was gone for maybe eight or nine
hours. Chester shook his head you were
gone for four days. That's not funny Chester.
I'm not laughing. He said when you didn't report
him for three days after the storm Kenny assumed that the
storm knocked out the equipment again.
Like it did last April. And with all the power outages
and flooding we had our hands full for the last few days.
But when I heard Kenny mention that you hadn't called in I
dropped everything and came right over because I knew
exactly where you were. How I started but Chester cut me
off. No, let me finish.
He said there's something wrong with that Valley.
I don't know exactly how to explain it.
But let's just say it goes to another place not always but
sometimes it does. When I first started here as a
new park ranger about six months in a couple of hikers
disappeared boyfriend and girlfriend.
They were heading down into the valley to camp for the weekend.
They never came back. There was a big search it went
on for over three weeks. Never found anything not a tent
or a backpack or a shoe nothing. Like they just vanished clean
off the Earth. About a year later a 12 year old
girl goes missing about 50 miles from here.
Her name was Alison Beckett if I remember correctly.
Anyways, this search party was massive.
Always is when a child goes missing.
There must have been 400 people out looking for her.
They found nothing. Six weeks later two women were
hiking through our Valley and they found her huddled up
against a tree brought her back called her parents.
She was okay, but remember she got lost 50 miles away.
So how did she end up here in the valley?
Our mayor held a little celebration to thank the two
women and present them with an award.
Alison and her family came down to attend there was food and
drink. Everyone was happy.
Just for a moment. I happen to catch Alice in by
herself at a picnic table. So I sat down and asked her what
really happened. She said that her family was
hiking up to a waterfall and her little brothers were arguing her
parents stopped to separate them.
And while they were stopped Alison kept walking.
She said she was tired of listening to her brothers argue.
She went around a curve in the path and off the side of the
trail about 50 feet into the woods was a merry-go-round a
full-sized Merry-Go-Round with lights and music and everything.
She said she stepped off the trail walked over to it and held
out her hand. Alison said she just wanted to
touch it to see if it was real. And as soon as her hand touched
the carousel, she was standing in a different forest and
everything was covered in missed.
There were three more disappearances over the next
five years. And that's when I decided to
block off the trails that led to the valley.
You did that I asked. You made The Deadfall.
Yes, and I don't regret it because The Disappearance is
fell off after that Chester continued.
I blocked off every entrance and then I hid the trails leading to
the valley as best. I could things were pretty quiet
here for a long time, but four years ago a little boy went
missing. His name was Jackson Perry.
He was six years old at the time and again a massive search
locals reporters. Even some people from out of
state came to help. We looked everywhere brought in
search dogs too. And you better believe I
searched those hidden Trails even climbed up the deadfalls to
look. There was nothing there.
Five days later. I found him sitting at the base
of that same Deadfall. We climbed over today.
I had already looked there three times.
So I checked him for broken bones and he looks okay except
for some scrapes and scratches. I pick him up and carry him back
to the search party and while it's just me and Jackson I asked
him what happened. He says he was playing hide and
seek with his sister and he was hiding behind a big rock.
He closed his eyes and when he opened them his sister was gone
and he was in the woods and he couldn't see very far because
there was Smoke everywhere like when there's a fire.
He got scared and started crying.
Then he heard a big noise kind of like a fire truck.
It made his ears hurt the ground started shaking then he says a
giant picked him up and carried him over the trees.
He said it was like flying Jackson said he could see a long
way. Then the giant set him down on
top of a big pile of sticks and he climbed down and sat at the
bottom. And after a while I came and
found him. When I brought him back to his
parents, they rushed him to the hospital.
The doctor said the only thing wrong with Jackson other than
some cuts and scratches was a burst eardrum.
The doctor said that could happen from being close to a
loud blast of noise. I think Chester noticed that I
went pale after that last story. He stopped to open another beer.
I asked him the only question I could think of.
But why don't you want to take the girl to the hospital to get
checked out? We have to find out who she is.
I know who she is. Chester said quietly.
Her name is Olivia Hernandez. She is 8 years old and she went
missing over 20 years ago. How I started again, but Chester
interrupted me you were gone for four days time is different over
there. How could you possibly know?
It's her I said I looked for that girl for weeks.
I guess I never really stopped looking for her.
I memorized her picture and I recognized the Rugrats t-shirt.
She was wearing when she got lost.
It's faded now, but it's the same shirt and I remember her
Father Miguel long after they called off the search.
He was up here searching side by side with me every weekend and
every day off. He was out in these Woods
looking for a Olivia. He said he knew she was still
alive. He knew it.
But 20 years I stammered. How could she survived what did
she do for food and water and how did she keep away from the
things that live over there? I don't know Chester said but at
first light I'm going back to base.
I'll find contact info for her parents.
They'll have kept it current parents of missing children
always keep their contact information current no matter
how much time passes. I'm going to have them get out
here as fast as possible. I guarantee if they're still
breathing. They'll be here by tomorrow
night. In the meantime.
She stays here with you. And before you start to argue
with me, let me say this that little girl has been through
more than we could ever. Imagine.
If we take her in there will have to be a report the Press
will show up and eventually they'll figure out her story
doesn't make sense. They'll be all over her and her
parents for months. It'll be a crap show.
And if you need another reason take a look at her sleeping with
Molly. I think she feels safe for the
first time in a long long time. Do you want to take her away
from Molly and leave her at the hospital with a bunch of
strangers? Let me answer that for you know,
you don't. It's not right.
Let her stay with Molly till her parents get here.
I thought for a moment about what happened to me and about
what people would say if I told them what happened to me.
They think I was crazy. Then I thought about Olivia
Chester was right to keep things quiet.
Okay. I said Olivia will stay here
with me and Molly until you come back with her parents.
I fell asleep in the chair by the fire.
And by the time I woke up Chester was already gone.
He'd left a note under a rock by my chair.
I'll be back by tonight was all it said.
I spent the day watching Olivia play with Molly in the clearing.
And true to his word by five that evening Chester called to
say he was waiting at the airport to pick up Olivia's
mother Maria Hernandez. She was flying in alone because
her husband was finishing his last round of chemo and was too
weak to travel. When I heard the truck pull up
two hours later. I waited at the head of the dirt
path from the parking area. A few minutes later they came
walking up. As soon as I saw Maria, I knew
it was Olivia's mother I could see the resemblance in her face.
She was visibly nervous as she asked.
Where is she? I pointed to the clearing Olivia
was sitting with Molly and weaving dandelions into her
collar Maria gasped and clutched at her heart.
Oh my God, can this be real she whispered?
She walked slowly towards the girl.
Olivia she whispered. It sounded like a prayer.
Olivia stood looking at the woman for what felt like an
eternity then she ran throwing her arms around her mother her
little hand still clutching a flower.
Then Maria was full on weeping still holding tight to Olivia.
I had tears in my eyes and I looked over to see that Chester
did too. It was one of the best moments
of my life. I'll never forget it.
After things calmed down we all talked for a while.
Maria thanked us over and over saying she could never repay us
for what we had done. Olivia still hadn't spoken but
she held tight to her mom. Chester drove mother and
daughter to the airport Maria wanted to bring Olivia back home
to see her father as soon as possible.
She said that seeing his daughter would be the best
medicine he could ever have. After they were gone.
I sat by the fire thinking about everything that had happened.
Molly was sound asleep at my feet.
Weeks went by and things settled back down.
Then I got a call from Chester asking if I wanted to meet for
dinner in town. We met at the local Diner.
They had good burgers and there was a patio out back that
allowed dogs. After the waitress took our
order Chester said I got a letter to today from Maria
Hernandez. She said her husband's cancer is
in remission. She wished we could have seen
the look on his face when he saw a Olivia.
It was like a huge weight. He had been carrying for 20
years had been lifted from him. She also said Olivia's coming
out of her shell. She is talking again.
And Maria said she took my advice about keeping things
quiet. She just wanted her family back.
In fact, she is homeschooling Olivia right now because she
can't bear to be apart from her. A few weeks ago.
They took Olivia to the local dog shelter and let her pick out
a puppy. She named it Molly.
And the puppy sleeps with her every night.
Maria also said that Olivia's birthday is next week and she
and her husband would be honored if we would come celebrate with
them. Because they have a lot to
celebrate right now. Chester looked at me and asked
so what do you think you two up for a road trip?
Always I replied Groening. Molly looked up at the words
road trip and wolfed her agreement.
After dinner, we walked out to the parking lot Chester got in
his truck waived and pulled out onto the road.
I stood there for a minute looking down at Molly.
There was a family I said with a giant hole right through the
heart of it and you patched it up Molly you did this.
She stared up at me head tilted to the side.
I gave her a scratch behind the ear and said Job, well done
girl. Let's go home. the end I never
thought I'd find myself heading back into the wild.
Especially not to a place as mysterious as datloff pass.
My name is Dan and these days my best friend is my dog cult.
He's not just any dog. He's a hero who served with me
on the police force before I retired now.
It's just him and Me Against the World.
Or so it felt until my old buddy.
Steve called. Dan you've got to get out of the
house man. Come with me to die Outlaw pass.
It's going to be an adventure just like the old days minus the
paperwork. Steve always knew how to mix
excitement with a touch of Madness.
His voice crackled through the phone like he was right next to
me pulling me out of my slump. Despite myself.
I felt a spark of curiosity. I hadn't left my house much
since retiring except for walks with cult.
Steve that place is not just any camping site, you know the
stories. I replied trying to sound
cautious but a part of me was already packing bags in my mind.
Yeah. Yeah the stories make it even
better Imagine The Thrill Dan plus will be careful.
We're not Rookie's. He laughed brushing off the
danger as he always did I couldn't help but smile.
Steve could always make the darkest Ali seem like a stage
lit up for a Grand Adventure. After hanging up.
I looked down at cult who was watching me with his Keen
intelligent eyes. Looks like we're going on a trip
buddy. I said.
He wagged his tail almost as if he understood maybe he did the
next day was a blur of preparation packing felt
strange. Like I was dusting off a part of
my life. I had put away.
Warm clothes camping gear and of course Colts Essentials, we were
ready to go before. I knew it our journey started
with a long drive to a small remote Russian village.
It felt like traveling back in time wooden houses scattered
around snowy Fields smoke curling up from chimneys and to
silence that spoke of both peace and secrets. the villagers idus
with curiosity mixed with a hint of Suspicion they knew where we
were headed. Andy our tour guide was a young
eager man with a thick accent and a bright smile welcome, I
prepare everything for Journey snowmobiles are ready.
Yes. He announced proudly gesturing
towards the sleep machine behind him.
His enthusiasm was infectious. And even I fell to Thrill
looking at the snowmobiles and the untouched white landscape
Beyond. Steve was in his element
chatting with Andy and loading our gear onto the sled attached
to one of the snowmobiles. I took care of cult making sure
his special coat was snug against the cold.
He seemed excited his nose twitching at the new sense his
eyes bright. As we left the village the
reality of where we were going hit me the outlaw of pass was
not just another Wilderness. It was a place of mystery where
a group of hikers had lost their lives in strange circumstances
many years ago, but as the cold wind brushed against my face and
Colts at close by looking as Fearless as ever I felt alive.
For the first time in a long while I felt like I was part of
something adventurous again something bigger than the small
world. I had confined myself, too.
Tonight we would camp where they did under the same Stars
surrounded by the same silent Snowy Peaks.
I wasn't sure what a weighted us.
But I knew we were in it together.
As the sun dipped below the icy Horizon.
The whole world seemed to hold its breath the path with its
haunting Beauty felt alive as if the snow and trees were watching
us set up our little camp. We were far from everything and
everyone except for the Eerie memories of those who had never
left this place. Steven and I along with Andy
managed to set up our tents quickly Colt ever Vigilant
patrolled around sniffing and sometimes growling softly under
his breath. He was uneasy and seeing him
like that made a chill run down my spine that wasn't from the
cold. Animals sense things we don't
Andy had said earlier and his words echoed in my head now.
As Darkness wrapped around us like a thick blanket we gather
around the fire the flames crackled and dance danced
throwing Shadows the twisted and turned on the snow.
It should have been cozy just like the camping trip Stephen
and I used to take but tonight each snap of a twig each Whisper
Of The Wind seemed loaded with warning.
We tried to keep the mood light. Steve joked about old times Andy
shared stories about the mountains But amidst our
laughter a strange sound cut through the night air.
A sound that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at
once. It was a low haunting Melody
like a flute playing a tune meant to lure or to warn.
I felt my heart. Skip a beat.
Do you guys hear that? I asked glancing around?
Steve shook his head looking puzzled while Andy stopped
mid-sentence his face turning serious.
Music here. He whispered and there was fear
in his eyes that made my stomach turn the music grew louder
weaving through the trees a sound no wind could mimic.
Cult started to bark his body tense and alert.
Something was very wrong. I reached for my radio trying to
contact anyone who might be out there, but all I got was static.
And then the compass Andy had been playing with early years
started spinning wildly. It was as if the very Earth
beneath us was shifting refusing to be still.
No good this place it has bad spirits Andy muttered looking at
the compass with wide eyes. We should not have come.
But it was too late for regrets. We were here and the night was
only getting darker. Suddenly out in the distance
lights appeared. They were like nothing.
I'd ever seen before red orbs floating above the ground moving
in patterns that made my head spin, they flickered and darted
through the trees as if they were watching us deciding what
to do. Colt growled louder and I felt a
primal fear rise in my chest. We need to stay together.
I said my voice barely above a whisper Steve nodded his usual
jokes gone. He pulled his jacket tighter
around him as we watched the lights dance.
The night air grew colder and the music played on.
I couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it felt close
too close. Then the unthinkable happened
the music seeped into our radios a clear sharp Melody that was
impossible to ignore. It filled the camp drowning out
the sound of our breaths. Cult barked furiously and I
grabbed my flash light shining it into the darkness beyond our
camp. There in the beam of light were
footprints in the snow, they circled our tents overlapping
and weaving a dance of Shadows and threats.
They were not just human some were too large too misshapen.
I swallowed hard trying to Steady My shaking hands.
We need to be ready for anything.
I told Steven Andy we agreed to keep watching shifts through the
night each of us on edge listening to The Haunting Melody
that refused to let us rest. As I settled down with cult by
my side. I knew one thing for sure we
weren't alone in diatla was with us didn't want us here.
The darkest part of the night seemed to last forever.
Every minute felt like an hour as we sat huddled in our tents
listening to the strange haunting music in the Eerie
silence that followed. I tried to sleep but my eyes
kept snapping open at every little sound.
Cult was Restless too? His ears perked up his body
tense as he lay by the tent flap.
As Dawn finally broke the light brought little comfort.
Stepping outside. I saw our campsite in disarray.
It looked like a storm had hit but the chaos was too focused
too deliberate. 10 sword torn our supplies scattered across
the snow the snowmobiles were overturned looking like fallen
giants in the pale Morning Light.
Steve was missing. Andy was still tied up but he
was different now. His eyes had a wild terrified.
Look as he mumbled in coherently.
The rope that had bound him was shredded soaked in blood.
It was clear that something horrifying had happened while I
was trying to catch a few moments of rest.
Steve I called out my voice echoing off the distant
mountains. There was no reply just The
Whisper Of The Wind Through the Trees.
Cult barked his growl low and ominous as he stared Into the
Woods. I followed his gaze and saw
Footprints leading away from the camp some were boots some bare
feet and others were too strange to identify.
With no sign of Stephen Andy nearly catatonic fear and
responsibility weighed heavily on me.
I had to find Steve I had to find out what was happening
grabbing my flash light and radio I set off into the woods
cult by my side. The forest seemed alive watching
me with unseen eyes every rustle of leaves every snap of a twig
made my heart race. The footprints we were following
were erratic weaving between the trees as if whoever made them
was running from something. Or towards something
unimaginable. As we went deeper the air grew
colder the Shadows darker. Then just when I thought we were
lost We Came Upon a clearing. There was Steve standing in the
middle looking confused and scared.
His clothes were torn his face pale and drawn.
Steve what happened? I asked stepping closer.
He looked up at me his eyes unfocused as if he was seeing me
through a fog. He he came at me Dan.
I had to defend myself. He stammered his voice barely
above a whisper in his hand. He held a knife its blade
stained with dark blood. I froze taking in the scene.
The ground was Disturbed signs of a struggle evident in the
snow. I didn't want to believe it but
something terrible had happened here.
Cult growled again is body tents.
He didn't trust Steve and I had to admit something felt off.
The Steve I knew wooden act like this.
He was always the steady won the jokes to her not this haunted
figure before me. We need to get back.
I said slowly watching Steve closely.
We can figure this out, but we need to be safe back at camp.
Steve nodded but his movements were jittery uncertain.
As we walked back. I kept cult close the dog's
unease mirroring my own. When we return to the ruined
campsite the full horror of the night hit me the snow around our
tents was blackened as if burned.
The food and gear were ruined scattered like leaves in a
storm. Then out of nowhere The Haunting
Melody started again soft and close voices joined it forming a
haunting chorus that seemed to come from all around us.
I spun around trying to locate the source, but it was
everywhere and nowhere. Cult barked furiously and I
felled it then a pole a tug in my chest like the music wanted
me to follow it. I resisted focusing on the dog
beside me on the cold wind against my face.
Were not going to let it take us I said to cold though.
I was really trying to convince myself.
We're going to make it through this.
The Haunting Melody that had played our night was now a
constant echo in the woods around us the more we tried to
block it out the clearer it seemed to become Steve's
movements grew more erratic and his eyes darted around as if he
was seeing things in the shadows that I couldn't Cult State close
his growls low and menacing. We should have never come here.
Steve muttered his voice trembling this place its cursed.
I couldn't disagree everything that had happened since we
arrived at die at Loft pass the Strange Behaviors the
supernatural occurrences. And now the eerie music that
wouldn't see it all pointed to something beyond our
understanding something malevolent.
As the day wore on the sky remained a dull gray the sun
hidden behind thick oppressive clouds.
We tried to reorganize what was left of our camp, but our
efforts futile the sense of impending doom grew with every
passing minute. We need to leave I said to
decisively now will pack up what we can and get out of here.
Steve nodded but his gaze was fixed on something behind me.
Turning around I saw them. Shadows at the edge of the
clearing not just Shadows but figures human-like, but
distorted their outlines blurry as if seen through water.
They were moving towards us slow and deliberate.
Dan they're coming Steve's voice cracked as he backed away
stumbling over a fallen brand branch.
Colt barked ferociously positioning himself between us
and the advancing figures I grabbed my flashlight shining it
directly at them, but it did nothing to dispel the Gloom that
seemed to envelop them. As they drew closer the details
of their appearances became horrifyingly clear.
Their Eyes Were Hollow their mouth is a gap in silent screams
and their skin pale and translucent.
Some bore the marks of violence others the decay of time.
The melody grew louder a cacophony that seemed to be
coming directly from the figures.
It was as though the song was their voice a siren called that
was both a warning and Allure. We can't just stand here.
I shouted over the din grabbing Steve's arm.
We need to move. we ran stumbling through the snow and
underbrush the figures mirroring our movements just beyond the
tree line every glance back showed them closer their numbers
seemingly multiplying suddenly Steve stopped his face going
white as he stared at something ahead.
Dan look in the path before us the ground was moving not with
life, but with a swarm of Shadows forming a barrier that
arrived and twisted on the snow. It was as if the darkness itself
was alive blocking our way forward.
Trapped we backed away, but the figures from the woods closed in
encircling us. Colts snarled and lunged at the
nearest Shadow, but it was like biting are there was nothing
solid to hit. I could feel the cold seeping
into my bones the song piercing my mind urging me to give in.
Steve was beside me shaking uncontrollably.
I can hear them. They're in my head.
The figures converged the music reaching a deafening pitch.
I clutched my head trying to block out the sound but it was
inside me a Melody that new no end.
In that moment the world narrowed to the song and the
cold the darkness and the pressing weight of eyes on
scene. The last thing I felt was Colts
fur against my leg his body pressed to mine in a final
desperate attempt to protect me. Then everything went silent.
The Outlaw of passed us as it had claimed others before the
melody lingered in the air a final note hanging in the chill
a reminder that some places are better left unexplored.
I've always had a weird group of friends.
They all went into manly careers, like logging oil rig
work and construction. I'm the black sheep of our
little group of high school buddies.
I went into it. They give me a hard time about
working on nerd stuff and I give it back me know like he computer
me dig. I'm an unlikely addition to
their group of friends, but it works somehow.
So there we are in a bar. This is one of those rare
occasions when everyone's back in town together, and we're
getting drunk swapping stories about Horrors on the job.
Someone talks about one part of their oil rig blew up killing
three people a few years ago Danny an actual Lumberjack talks
about seeing a guy working not 10 feet from him get his arm
torn clean off by a log line just a quick zip and a limb went
flying. He held a shirt to the wound as
the man bled out babbling and whining in agony until a Life
Flight came two hours too late. And all the while I'm sitting
there knowing I've got a story but it's not the kind of story.
I'd usually bring up to a bunch of drunk sort of friends.
Not the kind of story. I tell anybody.
It's the kind of truly unsettling memory that you
worried. Should you tell it?
You might give it life. You might feed it.
Somehow make it more real. I carry it around in the back of
my mind like a caged dangerous animal not considering letting
it out until now. Everyone has said something
already and I'm just sitting there looking sheltered looking
obvious. So I ignore that voice in my
head that says don't ignore my dry tightening throat.
I've got one. my voice cracks and they look surprised I'm
surprised they all give me doubtful amused looks go on then
the looks say and so I do I work from home on our 38 acres
outside of a small town in Alaska.
I live alone. No kids.
It's a college town just a small liberal arts college of a few
hundred but it's the heart of the town.
The campus is huge with the natural beauty of the area being
a big draw reservation land neighbor's the campus and the
tribes sort of acts like Park Rangers for the hundreds of
miles of Forest Trails. My own land borders part of the
campus on the other side. One day I'm out at the edge of
the cleared part of my property right behind my house.
It's probably about 200 yards from the house.
I'm watering a set of raised beds.
I have right near the tree line. Just enjoying the scorching
sunny day. And that's when something weird
happens. There's this sound like a record
of someone speaking coming from a few hundred feet into the
woods. It's like someone talking to you
through a bad cell connection. Where only parts of the words
are coming through and it's just noise, but you can tell it's
supposed to be words. I just stood there listening to
the noise curious but not afraid.
I didn't even turn the hose off. I think looking back.
That's why it took me so long to get freaked out to start taking
it seriously. Weird things like that
Supernatural things they happen at night deep in the woods not
at 1:00 in the afternoon while standing right in your backyard.
After about 30 seconds, it just stops.
I turned the water off and figure out if it actually
stopped or just got quieter nothing.
I file it away as a minor Oddity something to be brought up later
as a casual conversation token or more likely forgotten.
That was my first regret. Fast forward a couple of weeks.
I'm on a hike at the back of my property on one of the trails I
started last summer, which is pretty overgrown at this point.
I'm strolling lost in thought beneath the tree cover simply
enjoying the gorgeous Midsummer weather.
I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear the odds sound in the
woods far in the distance. There's the sound of garbled
human speech. The forest around me though is
oddly quiet. Now, I'm not much of a risk
taker and I generally prefer looking irrational to looking
dead. I casually turn and walk back
towards the trail entrance not wanting to encourage any large
Predators by fleeing suddenly. What the hell's making that
sound. Anyway, I resolve to bring
Danielle along to check it out when he comes to visit in two
weeks. Two weeks later.
I'm back at the trailhead alone. Because Danny bailed on me.
I told him that if I died, I would be coming straight to his
apartment to hunt the hell out of him.
I'm looking down the seemingly innocuous Forest Trail.
I steal myself check my pack bear spray and brand new Bowie
knife. Which I have no idea how to use.
It's just a sound I tell myself. I start down the path.
A few miles and about an hour in I hear the first signs of that
odd sound in the distance. It's maybe 100 yards ahead and
just off the side of the trail. The forest however moves and
rustles with life in that familiar reassuring way.
I carry on. As I approach the origin of the
sound I put my hand to the hilt of my Bowie knife.
The source of the sound now within 20 feet or so is not
immediately apparent. It's the same stream of
incoherent babble butt with a distinct crackling sound to it.
Looking up. I see a small black speaker
fixed to a tree about 10 feet from the ground.
Huh? Fairly confident the speaker
poses. No threat.
I take my hand from my knife and inspect it.
Written on the side of the speaker in white paint is the
name of the local college and the words Forestry Department.
A clue and a reasonable explanation go figure.
Content that I won't have to stab anything or haunt any
apartment this day I head back home.
During a slow day the next week. I call the Forestry Department
of the college. Yes, I'd like to speak to the
dean know. I'm not a student.
No, they don't know I'm calling. The dean answered in a bored
voice but seemed eager to answer my questions as if I were the
highlight of an otherwise mundane day.
As it turns out the speaker is or was a sort of live art
project in which students could write and record poems to be
spoken aloud in the forest. Its solar panels, but he
suspected the connection to the speaker.
I found had gone bad. Once per semester someone was
supposed to come out and upload new MP3s to a waterproof MP3
player near the base of each tree.
He went on to say that they discontinued the project due to
outcry from the nearby tribe. Initially, he ignored their
request to take down the speakers, but the vice president
of the College of eventually stepped in when complaints
persisted worried about souring good relations with the tribe.
They'd probably missed my station when they went to take
them all down. He said mystery solved hiking
season passes without incident about a month after the Snows
finally melt I decide to go on another hike on the trail with
the speaker. I've got some overnight camping
gear with me and I plan to camp out near my turnaround point a
few hours away. I almost missed the speaker when
I'm about an hour in it's completely silent.
Now. I stopped to poke at the
electronics event, but there's nothing obviously wrong with it.
The fraying connections appear to have finally worn out over
the winter. I continued down the trail about
two hours later. I've set up my tent and prepared
a simple camp. It's laid after noon, but I'm
Restless. With a few hours of daylight
left I decide to walk ahead of my turnaround point for a little
bit. I pick a little offshoot trail
that leads upward perhaps with the promise of a nice view.
Just a few minutes into the walk.
My mind is drifting. I'm just soaking up the late
afternoon sun and basking in the first good weather of the
season. I've picked the perfect time to
explore. Damn, this is nice.
I think to myself. And a moment later, I hear that
familiar unsettling sound of speaking in the distance.
I pause on the trail my brain still registering the noise as
something innocuous. This sound is a little different
and even so far away. I can tell that it's a higher
quality than the first speaker. I get closer and have to go a
little off the trail to make out the words.
It's definitely missing that crackly sound so I can easily
make out the words. It's the sound of a woman
reading poems just as the dean said.
Less perturbed than I once was I decide to sit on a rock near the
speaker pull out my water and take a little break.
I'm sitting there listening to the sounds of the forest and the
voice reading the familiar poems.
It still feels a little Eerie though, and after just a few
minutes I decided it's time to get going again.
I tossed my water bottle into my pack and stand to leave.
And that's when I hear the other voice.
Someone nearby is babbling these crazy nonsense words.
I perk up curious but not yet afraid.
It has this strange warbling sound like the natural rise and
fall of pitch in a sentence but in all the wrong places.
Like someone turning random words in a sentence into
question. It's the kind of sound you'd
laugh at if you weren't alone in a forest miles and miles from
help. The Forest goes dead silent
around me as if flipping a switch.
The sound begins trailing close through some thick brush in
front of me. I'm totally frozen in place.
Just listening to this ridiculous noise like a giant
basso baby voice. I utter under my breath.
What the hell? I see just a glimpse of
something coming through the brush.
And then my trance is broken. My conscious mind is slammed to
the back seat as my animal Instinct.
Send me sprinting back toward the trail.
I'm already careening back down the trail before I even realized
what I'm running from. And then it hits me.
A wall of realization a great towering cloud of cold crippling
realization. I actually stumble my neurons
fire in slow motion. The implications are forming in
my mind like a slowly condensing water droplet just before the
release and then the fall. My chest tightens and I take a
sudden sharp breath. It was a hand some kind of
elongated grotesque hand reaching through the brush a
body to match that distorted voice.
It's then that I hear it again on the path right behind me.
What the hell it warbles like it's learned a phrase for the
first time in its trying it out loud.
And then I'm running I'm barely touching the ground feet flying
down the tight Forest Trail in the late afternoon.
Sun tree branches are slapping at me as I barrel down the path
careless mindless. My nerves are on a knife's edge
for the entire Sprint back to Camp ears pricked skin covered
in Goosebumps. I enter a clearing and slow to
walk cautiously into Camp my hand hovering lightly over my
Bowie knife. I see my tent in the small
clearing where the main trail splits into these smaller
tributaries. The tents in the shade flap
partially open I stop staring at it.
It would take about 10 minutes to pack it up.
I contemplated it for about half a second.
Nope. And then I'm moving again back
on the main trail. Now I'm holding a sustainable
job, but after about 30 seconds, I slide to a stop because I hear
something new. And then I hear nothing. a quiet
deeper than anything before No distant Birds, no rustling
leaves. No quiet Breeze or chirping
insects. There's only complete and
unnatural silence. It's almost suffocating.
It's like having a giant glass jar dropped around me one
second. There's a rich blanket of forest
sounds and then next it's like I'm in a vacuum.
I freeze I can feel my heart pounding out of my chest.
But otherwise, I'm a silent and still as the forest around me.
The air is hot still and dead on my sweaty skin like standing in
a silent summer attic. An odd thought occurs to me and
intuition that I shouldn't move. People always get that feeling
like they're being watched but it isn't quite like that.
It's not like being watched. It's like I'm being examined and
my guts telling me to blend in to do what the bugs in the birds
and the trees are doing sit still and wait.
Do as they do this isn't something you run for do as they
do and survive. So I wait Frozen in an awkward
position mid-stride mid breath refusing to even blink or look
around. I stand there like a store manic
in the closet watching through wooden slats as something very
bad looks back at me trying to figure out if I'm actually a
manikin or just something pretending.
We look at each other like that this force and I for 10 seconds.
My head is swimming with Terror. 20 seconds, my lungs are
screaming for air and my heart is pounding still it examines me
and suddenly the gays is broken its focus is on something else.
My vision Narrows to a pinpoint because my brain is clamoring
for oxygen. Far off.
I hear a rustle of leaves and then slowly it comes my way.
Not the rustle of a creature but a great Collective exhale from
the forest. The sound of the forest returns
in great sweeps past me I bend put my hands to my knees and
join in with a heaving of my own.
The rest of the trip back is a barely restrained panic I jump
at every twig snapping, but I'm in a force to calm because the
logical part of me knows I can't run forever.
I set my Pace at a Brisk hike for two hours into the late
evening. It's getting dark by the time I
get back to my property. In the bar, my friends are all
statues still faces Slack. No one's touched their drink and
five minutes. My whole body shaking as I
absent mindedly run the fingers of both hands up through my
hair. It was like I was staring down
the barrel of a gun I say. A gun I couldn't see but I knew
I knew that if I had so much as twitched I wouldn't be here
right now. It would have known I was there.
It would have known I was real. And I never went back for that
tent I say taking a sip of my beer and taking a little Grim
satisfaction in my friends stunned distant faces.
They let out a few half-hearted nervous Chuckles at my attempt
to lighten the mood. But otherwise everyone seems
intensely interested in their drinks the table or the floor.
man, one of them eventually says Yeah, I reply we're all pretty
quiet and unusually pensive until we pay our tabs and leave
the bar. On the way out.
One of my buddies pulls me aside and asks, was that really true
all of it? I mean I just sort of squint and
look up at the stars in the Alaskan sky.
Eventually the words. I'm looking for come to me.
There are things out there that no one can explain things that
don't have names. And I think every now and then
someone comes across one the smart people the lucky people
like me are the ones who get to tell their stories.
He looks at me for a moment longer then seemingly content
with my answer he nods and walks to his car. night, he says Of
course, I don't tell him there's more.
I don't tell him it wasn't some ethereal invisible force staring
me down in the woods. It was a monster a lanky horrid
yet. Somehow human thing.
It was in the shape of a man, but it was no man.
God gave me two gifts that day. The first was sparing my life
and the other was keeping that creature in the periphery of my
vision. I did tireless research after
that incident in the forest. I found out about a missing
homeless man, and the dismembered corpse the cops
found in the woods parts of a corpse anyway.
And I found out about something called the a dick site.
I think that's how you say it. A follow-up call to the dean
from the nearby University got me that and it got me a meeting
with the grandson of the shaman who asked the university to take
the speakers down. I met with him the very next
day. I don't know how well I can
explain it. I don't think of it the same
way. My grandfather does it says I
follow up immediately. Try me.
You know how everything that's alive today has some of the same
DNA like if you go back far enough, we all have a common
ancestor even really different things like germs.
Well, I think academic side are in that family tree.
I think they come from something else.
He sort of trails off perhaps expecting skepticism from me.
Two days ago maybe but he doesn't know that I have a good
reason not to be a skeptic. These things aren't a joke.
You know, he tells me fingers wrapped around a frappuccino
people at the college think my grandfather's crazy.
They only listen to him because he's respected in the tribe.
But even though they respect him most of the tribe thinks he's
crazy, too. Do you think he's crazy?
I asked him about this. He looks Brave and the sudden
seriousness from this man surprises me.
No, he is not crazy. He's not crazy because I saw one
it was like five or six years ago.
I was out in the woods on an ATV just weaving through trees and I
was going too fast. I was stupid back then I did a
lot of stupid stuff. Anyway, I'm in some pretty
sparse woods. So it's easy to see far off and
I see this animal laying down in the distance.
I turn my ATV to get closer and I can tell it's a deer.
As I'm pulling up to it. I cut the engine and just roll
to a stop about 20 feet from the thing.
I think it must be hurt or something because its back legs
aren't working and it's pulling itself Along by its front legs
thinking I'll need to kill it I go to pull out my knife as soon
as I reach down. This thing's head just snaps
towards me. And I don't mean it hurt a sound
of looked around then saw me. It just immediately jerked its
head right towards me it it didn't look right.
It was like someone tried to make a deer but didn't have all
the Right parts, it was all twisted and gangly with these
nasty swollen eyes. Just staring at me.
And I got this feeling like it was trying to figure me out
trying to figure out what I was. And then a couple seconds later
it just turned and dragged itself away.
Wow, I say with real all I pushed my ATV as fast as it
could go back to the house. And that's when my grandfather
told me about the academic site. He said they were bad spirits
that spawned deep in the forest. There attached to Signs of Life
noise sights stuff like that and when they find something alive
they sort of copy it but they disassembled it first.
Once they've copied something they try and find more of it to
make a better copy. I don't really know why it's
just what he told me. Most of the time their harmless
but every now and then one shows up in the shape of a deer a dog
or something else. And then some men go out and
take care of it. Huh?
So what did they do about the one you saw?
They went out to find a deer a real deer.
When they caught one, they brought it to the academic site.
The only way to kill them is to make them copy something already
dying. We sat in silence there for a
moment drinks forgotten. I saw one I say.
What he says surprised and I think I know why your
grandfather wanted the speakers taken down what he was afraid of
it happened. Wait, wait slow down.
What are you talking about? There is a human a cat exceed
out there. A few hours later were standing
at the trailhead behind my apartment.
It's turning into evening now with only about an hour of real
daylight left. There's a group of men nearby
from his tribe talking to each other in hushed voices.
Behind them are a dozen or so women and children and some of
the women are crying. Ida what's going on?
I asked in whispered Tone's. But he motions for me to wait as
the circle of Shaman breaks up. An older man in his early 60s
who I assume is Ida's grandfather walks over to us at
the entrance to the trail. He doesn't stop to talk to us,
but just nods his head in our Direction and continues past us
down the trail. He has a wiry sort of strength
to him despite his age and The Feathered Garb in war paint on
his body lend him an air of danger.
I see an ornate Stone dagger on his belt as he goes eventually I
speak when he coming back. And Ida just gives me this flat
mournful. Look he isn't coming back.
And then I remember Ida's words. The only way to kill them is to
make them copy something already dying.
Around November 1970. I had just secured a job as an
entry-level reporter for the Post standard the local
newspaper here in Syracuse. I was young had my dream job and
life was good. However, just six weeks later.
My entire world came crashing down with the arrival of one
letter. To Daniel Frederick Wilson, you
are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the
United States. I had been drafted despite
numerous stops at various induction centers training
facilities and Air Force bases. I was ultimately destined for
Vietnam. What followed was eight weeks of
boot camp at Fort Dix For a while, it looked like I was
doomed to join the Infantry, but due to my degree in journalism.
There was a chance I might be able to weasel my way onto the
writing staff of stars and stripes.
Just a few days before we were due to graduate.
My drill sergeant pulled me into his office with some bad news.
Stars and Stripes did not need any more bodies.
However, there was an opportunity for me to become a
military dog handler. It wouldn't keep me out of the
field completely. But according to him.
All I'd have to do was roll up with my K-9 sniff out a few
boobie traps. And after that the engineers
would roll up and I'd be back in the rear in a hot minute.
But as it turned out all that stuff about being safely in the
rear turned out to be a bunch of baloney because me and Tack my
three year old German Shepherd ended up in more firefights than
I could have possibly imagined. Tack got his name after a
particularly close call that occurred on a routine Patrol
near Cuchi. If we were on point when
suddenly tack who was called Rex back then started alerting like
crazy. I had never seen him act.
So downright scared before and when the lieutenant saw this he
ordered his guys to unload their weapons onto the jungle ahead of
us. What followed was nothing short
of a storm tearing up the foliage in front of us for a
solid minute When the fire finally stopped nothing moved
and there was a moment where we thought the whole thing might
have been a false alarm. But sure enough as we pushed
through the jungle we found drag marks bloody Trails booby traps
the works. If it was not for tack, there's
a chance the entire platoon would have been wiped out.
He saved Our Lives. God dang boy.
I remember one grunt saying the Hound of yours is sharp as
attack isn't it? And it just sort of stuck tax
sniffed out every single Ambush we ever came up against even the
one that almost killed him. Some poor grunt managed to snag
a tripwire connected to a 10025 millimeter tank shell.
I don't even really remember the blast.
I just remember waking up on my back with someone dragging me
back through the jungle. My first thought was for Tack
and as I looked to tell the soldier dragging me to go back
for my canine. I saw that it wasn't a soldier
at all. It was tack.
He had one of my shoulder straps between his teeth and was
dragging me back towards the relative safety of the platoon
with all his might. We were putting out a lot of
fire. But Charlie was giving as good
as they got and one burst of machine gun fire ripped up the
ground in front of me before I watched a piece of my fatigue
pants. Just pop open.
I let out a scream loud enough to Wake the Dead begging for the
platoon's medic. Only the next thing I know I
hear tackled out this all Mighty Yelp before he dived on top of
me. I had no idea what just happened
and for a second. I thought he had been shot.
But he had not he was trying to Shield me from the bullet the
poor little guy had no idea how the enemy was hurting me.
All he knew was that he wanted it to stop even if it meant
putting his body in the way of their bullets.
I tried to push him off of me. I tried to keep crawling but he
wouldn't budge only when the shooting died down.
Could I shift him? But by that time instead of
getting to his feet tack just slumped down next to me.
He was alive just barely and I said to the platoon Commander
that if he didn't put him on the medic back with me, I'd make
sure he never received K9 support again.
It was a total Bluff, but it sure worked.
Yet it takes some considerable amount of time and
insubordination to save tax life.
When we landed back at Da Nang, I carried tack off the Huey
myself before hollering over to the medical tent to demand one
of the surgeons save his life. Get that mud off my operating
table Soldier. One of them said I'm a doctor
for Christ's sake not a veterinarian.
I didn't say a word in response. I just pulled out my 45 pulled
back the slide and then pointed it at his head.
The surgeon looked me in the eyes and saw months of
firefights booby traps and night patrols staring back at him a
moment of silence followed and then the surgeon got to work
saving tax life. I'm sure you'll be as pleased as
I am to learn that he survived. It turned out to be nothing more
than a few shrapnel wounds and all though.
It took him a while to get back on his feet tack did make a full
recovery. The incident left the brass in a
predicament. I know there was at least one
Lieutenant Colonel who wanted me breaking rocks in Leavenworth,
but then there was another who was in the middle of writing me
up for a bronze star for having saved the lives of half of his
battalion. In the end their decision was
more political and disciplinary rather than risk angering the
rest of the Dog Handlers in the country.
The brass just scratched my bronze star and gave me a
medical discharge instead. I couldn't have cared less about
some janky metal because I left Vietnam with the one thing that
really mattered to me. Due to the wounds he'd sustained
in combat attack had to be scrapped from the military's dog
program. And it looked like he was headed
back to the dog pound back in the US unless of course I
stepped in to take ownership of him.
That's how I ended up back in Syracuse with my best friend in
the world. I was an unemployed 24 year old
with a bum leg and a bad case of PTSD, but I didn't care because
I had with me. It took me just short of a year
to get back on my feet and fortunately I ended up picking
up where I left off at the post standard after a chance meeting
with the editor. I'll be forever grateful to him
for giving me that opportunity and with the structure and
steady income at brought. I gradually got my life
together. Then one day he called me into
his office with the proposition of a lifetime.
Some editor friend of a friend in DC needed an article written
only the perspective author had just taken ill and couldn't make
the assignment. Struggling to find a
replacement. He'd fruitlessly called up their
New York desk which is how it made its way to us.
What's the subject I remember asking?
You ever heard of those churches down in Kentucky that handle
snakes during their services? A little I replied I thought it
was illegal. Since when did the law stop
anyone from doing anything kid? True, but who's this piece for
National Geographic? He said a smile stretching
across his face. I wouldn't want to go ahead and
Jinx You by saying this is your big break, but I think we both
know what this is. The drive down to Appalachia was
going to be one son of a gun. But since the newspaper was
covering my gas money and Tack was used to being on the move.
There was nothing stopping me from getting on the road the
very next morning. The drive down to Kentucky was 9
and a half hours of watching featureless.
Suburban sprawls slowly erupt into the green Rolling Hills of
Appalachia. And by the time we got there my
ass was in a coma tactic didn't seem to mind the journey though
every so often he'd stick his head out the passenger side
window to renew his spirit. That and when it came to
Provisions, I had little choice but to buy him a burger at the
roadside grease trap onions mustard and all.
We rolled into Lexington late afternoon and to my surprise
getting information on snake handling churches wasn't all
that difficult. All it took was a few pictures
of Budweiser down at the VFW and it had those crusty old veterans
singing like canaries. They told me I'd have to look
out on the Eastern side of the state if I wanted to talk to any
of the old snake handlers and given that the practice was
outlawed finding them was certainly not going to be easy.
That didn't bother me though after all I had tack with me and
we were used to finding things that did not want to be found.
One guy Teddy hadn't heard of anyone handling snakes in years.
But the last time he did it was happening at the old church up
in the hills. And so I set out for the Eastern
Kentucky Hills with nothing, but the name of a small Hillside
Hamlet called Three Forks. The next morning I was back on
the road driving in the direction of West, Virginia.
Somewhere by the state line around four hours in it felt
like I had not just traveled 200 miles.
It felt like I had traveled back in time by around 50 years.
It was everything the Old Hudson trucks dated looking signage.
And by the time I was out near 346, the roads had to generated
into nothing but dirt tracks flanked by dense dark woods.
Every so often these claustrophobia inducing Country
Roads would open up into what the locals call Hollows
relatively flat areas where the road is sandwiched by homes and
small businesses. Frog Pond Hollow was home to the
rabbit's foot General Store a place that doubled as both the
hollows gas station and barber shop.
And as I pulled into top up my gas tank the clerk wandered out
to greet me. Not often we see New York plates
around here. He said eyeing me suspiciously
from across the four quart. I explained I was in the area on
business and that I'd appreciate some gas and a bite to eat.
For a buck 50 the guy brought me a plate of something he called
corn pie which was basically cornbread with beef chili
filling along with a plate of raw hamburger for tax.
After I complimented his cooking he nodded and appreciation
before correcting me that it was his wife's and that I told him
he was a lucky man to have such a fine cook at home.
He finally began to warm up to me a little when he asked what
kind of business I was on. I didn't want to spoil all the
Goodwill by telling him that I was a reporter charged with
writing a story on a neighboring community that would well end
with them being arrested. So I broke it to him gently the
instant he heard that I was there to write an article about
snake handling. I could tell he fell almost
tricked into talking to me sir. Please hear me out I countered.
This country was founded on the promise of religious freedom and
the fact that snake handlers can be arrested for practicing their
faith is frankly Un-American. So please help me show the world
that these are good people here. Helped me get these people their
rights back. I fought for this country's
freedom in South Vietnam and dammit.
I'll fight for them here, too. I think it was the last line
that got him. He gave me another look over
then motioned for me to follow him inside.
According to the clerk almost everyone in Appalachia knew of
at least one church that still took up serpents as he put it
and it came as no surprise that those who practiced it were
still persecuted by the state. Three Forks had been the subject
of a Crackdown on snake handling in the mid-50s after their
Pastor almost lost his life to a rattlesnake bite since then
they'd taken their rather unique form of worship underground.
But a more pertinent question then where are they now?
Was how in the hell did their Pastor survive the bite of an
Eastern Diamondback? A snake whose Venom is almost
100% fatal when untreated. Victims described the pain of
being bitten by one as like two red hot hypodermic needles
piercing your skin and the Venom causing the flesh surrounding
the bite to Blacken and wrote. Even worse the intense swelling
of the affected area is said to be one of the worst forms of
pain imaginable. But snake handlers vow never to
seek medical attention or take any kind of painkillers in the
event that they're bitten. Instead they put their survival
in God's hands. Sometimes he comes through for
them others not. I asked the clerk if he knew of
any local snake bite fatalities, but he just shook his head.
They'd get bitten. All right, not often, but they
do. But the way I hear it, they
always seem to pull through for some reason.
Who knows maybe the Lord really is looking out for them?
It's then that I asked how I would go about securing an
invite to one of these snake handling services.
The clerk just looked at me asked what unit I served with
and then once I confirmed he walked into the back to make a
phone call. When he re-emerged he held a
small torn off piece of paper in his hand one with the following
note written on it walk into the woods off Laurel Fork after dark
no pictures. It was all the information he
had for me, but it was all I needed.
That night once the sun had fully set me intact walked out
of the small ends Motel where we were staying got into my car and
drove back down to Three Forks. The darkness gave the overgrown
Rusty in place an ominous feel and the closer.
We got to Laurel Fork the more anxious I got By the time we
reached the dead end of Laurel Fork and I switched on the old
Flashlight. I kept in the glove box.
I'm not afraid to admit. I was downright scared.
It was the first time that me and Tack had gone anywhere in
the dark in an unfamiliar area since Nam, but there was
something else too something I couldn't quite put my finger on
until the following night. Like I said, I was so nervous
that tack could sense it and he stayed glued to my heel for most
of the Walk. Then after a few minutes of
trudging through the darkness, I began to hear something.
something that sounded almost like singing moments later.
I saw a dim light shining from Beyond the trees somewhere in
the distance. I got a little closer then
realized what I was looking at. It was the shape of a large
revival tent set up in a small clearing and the light was
coming from the lantern of a dark shadowy figure.
Since I figured they were expecting me.
I switched my flash light back on then slowly began to approach
with tack by my side. Welcome brother.
The figure said I trust you've adhered to the terms of our
agreement. Yes, sir.
I replied No cameras. Just me and my dog.
Good The Stranger replied now come meet Pastor Childers as he
lifted a tent flap. I was met with a surprising
sight. I had gotten into my head that
these folks were some Serpentine death cult yet.
They seemed just like any other small town congregation in
America. A guy was plucking a guitar at
the head of the congregation while the worshipers sang A
Cheerful Melody of when I hear that trumpet sound.
I'm going to get up out the ground Ain't No Grave gonna hold
my body down. Once the musical number cease
the congregation applauded the banjo player before a very
distinctive looking man took the stage.
He was pale and stick thin with a shock of curly red hair and a
fiery mustache wearing a white button down in black slacks as
soon as he came into view taxis shot up and he softly began to
growl. Brothers and sisters the man
began to Bellow we welcome in a steamed guest in our Humble
House of worship tonight. The announcement prompted a
handful of worshipers to shoot a welcoming smile at me.
He's come all the way down here to the holler tonight from New
York City. He talked about the place like
it could have just as easily been Mars.
But he isn't no federal man coming to take away your rights.
He's come to show all those tyrants in Washington that what
we are doing isn't harming anybody down here in God's
house. Isn't that right brothers and
sisters? The congregation erupted in
whoops and cheers of approval and in a way he was right if
folks were dying because they were dancing with rattlesnakes
that was undeniably tragic but no one was forcing them to and
they weren't exactly going out of their way to hurt anyone.
So for me it really did raise the question.
Do we live in a free country or not?
The pastored with his sermon for a spell then after ushering in
another musical number walk down the center row of seats to greet
me. But as he got within Arms Reach
tack exploded in a flurry of furious barks tack, I growled at
him quiet boy, but tack just would not stop He barked so
loud. And so intensely that some of
the worshipers were turning to us with angry looks on their
faces. Brother, I really must insist
you tie that thing up outside. Pastor Childers said his
cheerful demeanor slipping a little as he spoke.
Normally if someone spoke about tack like that, I tell them to
kick rocks, but this was work. So I made an exception.
I took Tac outside and asked what the hell had gotten into
him then for the first time since the day we had both been
wounded in combat. He alerted there were no booby
traps here. No Viet Cong to worry about but
he still told me danger was present.
I was concerned, but I had not come too far just to turn back.
I told him to stay and assured him I'd be back in a moment.
Tack laid down shooting me a frightened look, but did as he
was told. Must be that he can smell the
snake on me. The Pastor said when I
re-entered the tent. At the time that made all the
sense in the world to me and since he had given me a
conversational window into asking him about snakes.
I took the initiative. My snakes really bite.
He said with a warm smile. They sure got the devil in them
all serpents do but Satan's power is weakest here in the
Lord's House. However, on the occasion they do
bite it shall not hurt them. They shall lay hands on the sick
and they shall recover. That being said he broke off
turning his neck to one side revealing two dark pinprick
scars upon his throat. To my knowledge.
No one had ever survived being bitten on the neck by an Eastern
Diamondback yet here stood this pastor living breathing proof
that it was possible. Only that wasn't quite his
version of events. When I asked him how he survived
his response was cryptic to say the least.
That's just the thing brother. He said I didn't.
When I asked him what he meant by that the pastor called out to
one of his congregation. Brother Robert, he yelled show
our guests here how we are unafraid.
I watched in disbelief as a boy. No older than 20 fetched a
wicker basket from one side of the stage before pulling out.
The biggest rattlesnake. I'd ever laid eyes on.
Then in rhythm with the singing and clapping of the
congregation, he started bouncing this thing up and down
in his grip. I expected that the Rattler
would just wheel around and bite him in an instant but to my
amazement it looked completely disinterested my Jaws on the
floor as I am trying to figure out if it's the music the
rhythmic bouncing or if these snakes have been sedated before
the service. And I only snap out of it when I
hear the pastor speak again. You see brother.
He hissed into my ear. You see how we got the devil on
a leash. I must admit I was impressed
balls for picking up a rattlesnake like that, but it
didn't seem the least bit interested in biting him.
I had to drag myself out of that awestruck stupor to get the
interview back on track. I finally asked him what he
meant when he said he didn't survive the snake bite.
He just looked at me and grinned his lips squirming like the
truth was on the tip of his tongue.
But all that came out was a Bible verse.
I am the resurrection in the Life whoever lives by believing
in me will never die. My first guest was that Pastor
children hadn't died more like he had miraculously survived a
period of unfathomable pain and suffering and lost a little of
his sanity in the process. But Pastor Childers was telling
the truth only before I could question him any further one of
the congregation LED out an ear piercing Screech.
Another worshiper rushed to take control of the Rattler brother.
Robert had been holding while the boy himself held out his
forearm two tiny droplets of blood bubbling out before
running down his Alabaster skin. He had been bitten, excuse me,
brother Pastor children said as pandemonium erupted, but please
come back tomorrow night. If the boy doesn't survive.
He'll be resurrected Come See Come See.
And at that he was gone sucked into the throng of hysterical
worshipers as they flocked around the Venom stricken boy.
I left disgusted at the waist of a young life switching on my
flashlight as I walked back into the darkness.
Come on, boy. Let's get out of here.
Tack jumped up his tail wagging and relief before we trudged off
through the trees. When I awoke the next morning, I
had no intention of returning to the revival tent to watch
brother Roberts Resurrection. I had seen enough Medics
hopelessly laboring over dead men to know that once you're
gone. There's no bringing you back.
Instead. I plan to check out of the motel
before the long drive back to Syracuse only as I was loading
up my car. I heard a soft Mousie voice
calling out from behind me. Hey mister.
It was a young woman, maybe about 16 or even 17 years old
your headed down to the worship tonight, right?
I hadn't noticed her the night before but evidently she had
noticed me. No, I replied.
I don't know what they're going to do with that boy, but he he
passed she interjected a sadness in her eyes.
Last night a few hours after you left, but they're going to bring
him back tonight. She believed it too.
You could hear it in her voice. I'm sorry, but you can't bring
people back. I felt like a major jerk saying
it to her but it was the truth. At least.
I thought it was your pastor is a liar.
He wasn't resurrected. There's no such thing.
Sure, there is Mister and you're going to tell everyone about it.
I slammed my trunk shut and turned to face her and why would
you want me to tell everyone I asked?
That'll mean feds crawling all over these Hills.
They'll arrest your pastor and take away your snakes.
Because it needs to stop all of it needs to stop.
She was growing more increasingly agitated and her
voice cracked as she spoke what they're doing down there.
It's it's wrong. Sure, most of the time they come
back. Okay, but every so often they
come back different and they've got to put them down.
I don't want to see Robert like that.
I just can't but they're going to and I said cutting her off
before she descended into panic. I'll head down to the tenth
again tonight and try to stop whatever they're going to do.
Okay, thank you. Mister.
Thank you. The girl replied her cheeks now
slick with tears. Before I had a chance to say
anything else she was on her way.
That night me and Tack repeated the ritual of gearing up getting
in the car and driving down to 3-4 only this time.
I had even less of an idea of what to expect.
We had hit the dead end of Laurel Fork and again walked
through the drizzling rain towards where the tent had been
the night before. Once again, they were expecting
me, but when I entered I found the tone to be very different
than the night before instead of singing dancing and clapping the
congregation was silent and there was a distinct tension in
the air. Ah Pastor Childers I explained
as I walked in. Welcome brother.
God told me you'd return and here you are.
Children was standing over two white plastic camping tables,
which held up brother Roberts lifeless corpse.
And it was quite evident that he was dead.
He had that deathly pallor about him that same Grim jaundice.
I had seen so many others have in Vietnam.
Behind him was the same man who had welcomed me into the 10th
the previous night only this time.
He was carrying a shotgun. Pastor we need to talk not now
brother plenty of time to talk when brother Robert is back.
brother, Robert isn't coming back Pastor you and I Please no
more talking Pastor Childers interrupted all your doubts will
be cleared soon enough. Now take your seats brothers and
sisters. The time of rebirth is upon us.
Again tack was growling something fierce, but he kept it
low. Sticking close to my side as we
were waiting to what was to come.
We got something special here folks children's began.
There's something in these Hills that God put here long long ago
and we must show our gratitude for it.
A smattering of amen's came back from the congregation before the
pastor continued. So will it be with the
resurrection of the dead he said his voice Rising with every
sentence? The body that is sown is
perishable, but it's raised in perishable.
It's sown into dishonor, but it was raised in glory.
It is sown and weakness, but it is raised in power.
The congregation were calling back to him now as emotion to a
man off stage. Bring me the serpent that took
This Boy's Life Pastor Childers bellowed and at his command the
man picked up the same wicker basket that brother Robert had
carried just the night before. It was The Snake That Killed him
still alive and still deadly. Childers whipped open the lid
plunged his hand into the basket and raise the snake up by its
head. And as he held it up to the
congregation, he produced a small knife and began to slice
through the snakes throat. Once it had been decapitated
another member of the congregation appeared to be
holding a large glass bowl and the snakes blood was carefully
and methodically drained into it before they continued.
The pastor then placed the snakes remains on brother
Thomas's lifeless chest before taking a short step back.
I declared to you brothers and sisters.
He bellowed that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of
God nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable we will
not sleep. We will all be changed.
Change the congregation began to whoop and holler and in turn
Pastor Childers intensity began to build in a Flash in a
twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet.
The dead will be raised in perishable and we will be
changed. He was foaming at the mouth now
fire and brimstone in his words. Then and only then we will have
the saying that will come true. Death has been swallowed up in
Victory. As Pastor Childers ranted and
raved my attention was suddenly drawn away from him.
The Headless snake that lay on Robert's chest he began to move
it was only slight at first little Twitches that could
easily be mistaken as belated death throws but soon it was
unmistakable. The snake the dead snake was
moving. Where oh death is your Victory
Childers screamed motioning to the sheer impossibility before
him where oh death is your sting?
And at that the snake began to slip her stump first into
brother Roberts open mouth and down into his throat.
I could not believe what I was seeing.
Watching The Headless blood soaked snake disappeared down
brother Roberts throat was the single most horrifying thing.
I had ever witnessed. Nothing.
I had seen in nam could possibly compare but instead of running
for their lives the congregation were in raptures.
Some were weeping other spoken tongues the rest simply stood
there as in a deep trance swaying from side to side.
Me on the other hand. It was like I was dumbstruck.
I was glued to that spot just clamoring to comprehend.
What the hell I was seeing then when I thought things couldn't
get any more insane brother, Robert woke up.
Attack was just about losing his mind at this point unleashing a
flurry of high-pitched wines as he tugged at the sleeve of my
jacket. He was begging me to leave but I
just couldn't. I remember putting a hand on my
mouth in pure shock watching his brother Robert coughed sputtered
and gasped for air. He looked terrified his sunken
eyes wide and fearful and they darted around the room and
confusion. The congregation spilled out of
their seats toward him people were weeping others Cried Out
Hallelujah. The Joy they felt was
otherworldly and as brother Robert embraced his loved ones
after a long deep sleep he began to smile all eyes were on
Roberts not a single person wanted this moment to be missed.
this miracle of a resurrection all except one the girl who had
visited me at the motel. She was staring at me the
desperate look in her eyes that screamed for God's sake to do
something. But I didn't have anything to do
because Robert did it for me. Give me some room pastor's cried
out. Let me welcome our dear brother
back into the land of the living.
The congregation rescinded like waves from a beach allowing
Childers to get face-to-face with the still smiling Robert.
Only as I watched him approach I noticed there was something
horribly wrong about Robert's face.
His eyes were wide open almost like he didn't have any eyelids
at all and his smile was stretched.
So unnaturally wide that I swear you could see every single one
of his teeth. It wasn't a happy smile.
It was something else something terrifying.
Robert Childers asked it's me Pastor Childers.
I want to Childers was silenced by the Lightning Fast movement
of Robert's arms in an instant. His hands were wrapped around
the pastor's throat. He gasped for air as the
congregation lept to his defense trying to pry Roberts hands off
of his neck, but it was no good. For a man who had been
clinically deceased just a few moments before Robert was
horrifyingly strong and we all heard the moment.
He crushed the pastor's larynx with a sickening crunch.
Robert then swung the pastor around knocking down several of
the congregation as he flung The Man's limp body in the direction
Robert know what in God's name are you doing?
Yet it was as if he could not hear them.
He simply grabbed another member of the congregation and sunk his
teeth into her face. The scream she led out was
gut-wrenching punctuated by the sound of a shotgun shell racking
into the chamber. Get the hell off of her Robert
the armed man roared aiming the barrel squarely at his head
Robert let go spitting out the chewed remains of her nose on
the earth and floor of the tent and with that same six smile
splitting his face into two. He slowly turned back towards
the armed man. Please Robert.
He said please snap out of it. Robert responded by taking a few
slow steps toward him before suddenly and violently lunging
Buckshot tour through the right side of Robert Scull popping it
open like a smashed watermelon. The boy stood there for a moment
staggering two and fro and then it looked like he was about to
drop. Then out of nowhere Robert once
again lunged towards the man grabbing hold of the shotgun and
using it as leverage to smash what remained of his forehead
into the man's mouth. He fell back letting go of the
shotgun blood pouring from his pulverized lips.
Robert had racked around into the shotgun a percussive hit to
the melody of the downed man's pleas for his life.
Some of his teeth fell out of his mouth as he begged Robert
aimed the shotgun square at the man's hands clasped together in
a prayer and fired. The man howled as everything
above the wrist simply disintegrated all while the
congregation and I begged Robert to come to his senses.
Instead he racked another round into the chamber aimed the
shotgun at the wounded man's head and fired the sound of his
screamed degenerating into a gurgle still haunts my
nightmares and that was the moment.
I came to my own senses and got the hell out of that revival
tent. Run boy run I screamed buttock
did not need to be told he bolted on a head as the sounds
of the unfolding Massacre echoed through the trees behind us.
And here's where I bring up my wounded leg.
Remember the one I told you about 12 Pages back.
It means I can't run very far very fast, and we ended up
paying for it because at one point I looked back to see
something catching up to us. I think it's another Survivor
from the tent. But when I turn all I see is
brother Robert hurling towards me shotgun in hand.
He pumps one final round into the chamber raises the shotgun
and then something else tears past me in the Darkness.
It was tack barreling towards the thing that used to be
brother Robert and with his good eye.
It tracked tack as he lept towards him and took its last
shot. The next thing I see is brother
Robert in the dirt and Tack has him by the throat whipping his
neck back and forth chewing and piercing drowning Robert in his
own blood at first. I didn't think that had finished
him off. But when tack climbed off of him
and Robert ceased to move I breathe the deep sigh of relief,
but it was one taken far too soon.
No sooner than I had said good boy tack collapsed to the
ground. The thing that used to be Robert
had indeed landed his final shot filling tax cut full of Buckshot
in the second before he delivered the killer blow.
I went to autopilot pick tack up and ran as fast as I could back
to the car driving like a man possessed not even sure where I
was headed. I just remember looking over at
him at one point to see if he was still alive if he was still
with me and he was gone. his big brown eyes stared off into
Oblivion I pulled the car over to the side of the highway and
burst into tears. I never loved anything in my
whole life. Like I loved that dog after we
got back from NAMM and the things had gotten bad for a
while. He was the only thing that kept
me from eating my gun. Every single time I thought
about ending it I think who's going to feed tack.
And that was that all the guys whose lives he had saved they'd
kick my ass if they knew I had ever dared to mistreat him.
He was my best friend in the world and now he was gone.
I tried and failed to save his life just like he had saved mine
that day in the jungle. And just like he did that day in
Three Forks, and that's just something I must live with.
I couldn't bring myself to write up the story.
I just apologized to my editor and told him I had to pass on it
after all who in their right Minds would believe me when he
asked about what happened to Kentucky.
I just told him it was a hunting accident a few years later.
I took a job down in Florida working as the sports
correspondent for the Gainesville Sun.
And I ended up retiring here, too.
I mean to go back to 341 day to really address what happened.
Just not yet. Not yet.
I have a new dog these days also ex-military and he's also a
German Shepherd. I think he takes more care of me
than I take care of him at this point, and he certainly makes
for better company than my ex-wife.
As for a name I call him Junior and I don't think I have to tell
you who that's after. It was a typical chilly night at
our campsite nestled deep within the woods.
The sky was sprinkled with stars and the campfire crackled
casting flickering Shadows on everyone's faces.
My friends and I were huddled around the fire roasting
marshmallows and swapping ghost stories.
Despite the spooky Tales the warmth of the fire and the
laughter made everything feel safe and cozy.
Just as I was about to take another bite of my smore.
He felt an urgent need to use the restroom.
I'll be right back. I mumbled standing up the
nearest restroom was a quarter mile away down a narrow winding
path that disappeared into the darkness beyond our campfires
glow. I grabbed a flash light and
started walking. The beam of light cut through
the darkness, but it couldn't chase away the Eerie feeling
that crept up my spine. Every rustle in the bushes and
every snap of a twig made my heart jump.
I told myself it was just the wind or a small animal nothing
to be scared of. As I continue down the path the
outline of someone walking ahead caught my eye.
It looked like one of my friends from the campsite.
He had a peculiar way of walking kind of a shuffle with one foot
dragging slightly. I called out.
Hey, wait up, but he didn't stop instead.
He looked back and shouted. Why are you following me?
His voice sounded strained almost scared.
That was weird. I quickened my Pace to catch up
keeping the beam of my flash light steady on the path ahead.
I told you guys I was just going to the bathroom I yelled back,
but he didn't wait. He turned and started walking
faster and then just like that he was gone. swallowed up by the
dark When I finally reached the restroom, I was a little out of
breath and a lot spooked. I did my business quickly half
expecting a ghost to pop out at any minute.
The walk back to the campsite was even creepier.
I kept looking over my shoulder expecting to see my friend or
whoever it was following me. But there was only darkness and
the distance sound of laughter from the campfire.
When I got back, I walked straight to my friend the one I
thought I had seen on the path. He was sitting by the fire
roasting another marshmallow acting as if he'd been there the
whole time. Were you just on the path to the
restroom? I asked trying to keep my voice
casual. He looked up puzzled.
No, I have been here the whole time.
Why what's up? I glanced around at my other
friends. They all nodded agreeing with
him. But I saw someone it looked just
like you I stammered feeling a bit foolish.
They all laughed probably just your imagination or maybe you
saw a ghost one friend teased winking.
I forced to laugh and sat back down poking at the fire with a
stick. Maybe they were right.
It was probably Just My Imagination Running Wild in the
dark, but still a nagging feeling told me something
strange was going on. I decided to keep it to myself
for now not wanting to be the joke of the night.
But deep down I couldn't shake off the chill that had nothing
to do with the night air. After the strange happenings
early that night. I tried to convince myself.
Everything was normal. I joined in the laughter in
stories, but I couldn't completely relaxed.
Eventually, I crawled into my tent still puzzled and fell into
a fitful sleep in what felt like just minutes later.
I woke up again. My watch showed it was three am
and once again I needed to use the bathroom.
I didn't want to Trek all the way to the restroom.
So I decided to just walk a little Into the Woods.
I slipped on my shoes and quietly unzipped my tent trying
not to wake anyone else. The woods were even quieter at
this hour and a thin Mist had settled around the campsite
making everything look Ghostly. I shivered more from the Eerie
silence than the cold and headed into the trees.
After I was done I started back toward the campsite.
That's when I heard it. the distinct sound of a tent zipper
I turned my head just in time to see my friend the same one.
I thought I saw earlier stepping out of his tent.
He pulled out a cigarette and his lighter.
The Sparks from the lighter briefly lit up his face in the
darkness giving him a spooky look.
Can you hear me? He called out softly almost a
whisper. I stopped walking confused.
Yeah, I can hear you. What's up?
I replied trying to sound braver than I felt.
Can you hear me? He asked again this time much
louder it was as if he was talking to someone far away not
just to me. Yeah, what are you trying to do
wake everyone up. I said a little annoyed.
He just shook his head and walked towards the car's parked
a little way off from our tents. Curious and a bit worried.
I followed him the Mist made it hard to see and he seemed to be
just a shadow moving ahead of me.
When I reached the cars, he was nowhere to be seen.
I looked around but wild-eared and not a little scared.
This isn't funny anymore. I called out but there was no
answer frustrated and feeling a bit foolish.
I walked back to his tent it was zipped up and I could hear faint
snoring from inside. I stood there for a moment
trying to make sense of things. Was I dreaming?
seeing things or was something weird really happening.
Too wired to sleep. I returned to my tent but I
didn't close my eyes again that night.
I lay there listening to the sounds of the night and
wondering about what I had seen and heard.
It seemed impossible, but I was sure of what I had experienced.
The next morning. I watched as my friend climbed
out of his tent stretching and yawning like it was just another
day. I wanted to ask him again to see
if he'd admit to anything now in the daylight.
But something in his normal sleepy expression stopped me.
Maybe I just imagined it all. But the memory of that night
stayed with me a mystery that wouldn't quite let me go.
I knew something strange had happened.
Even if I couldn't explain it. As I pushed past the low-hanging
branches at the edge of Ocala National Forest the scent of
Pine and damp Earth. Hit me.
The forest cloaked in its Perpetual Shadow stretched
endlessly before us an impenetrable wall of green that
had swallowed up countless sunsets.
It was the kind of place you could get lost in without ever
straying from a path the kind of place that kept its Secrets
close. My buddy Mike a sturdy guy with
a Keen Eye for tracking led the way with his usual brisk pace.
We're going to find some good spots tonight.
I can feel it. He said adjusting the strap of
his AR-15 on his shoulder. I nodded feeling the familiar
weight of my own rifle in the sidearm at my hip.
We were equipped for Hogs but prepared for anything.
The deeper we ventured the thicker the woods seemed to
become. Ancient Oaks Twisted high above
their limbs weaving a dense tapestry that blotted out the
Moon. Only thin shards of light
managed to pierce the canopy casting Eerie Shadows that
danced around our feet. It was well past midnight and by
my Reckoning we were about three or four miles from the main road
deeper than we'd plan to go. We should have turned back an
hour ago. I muttered checking my watch the
digital glow seemed out of place in the Timeless dark of the
Ocala. Mike chuckled softly.
Where is your sense of adventure man?
Besides were not the type to shy away from a little Darkness.
true enough with our gear our skills and the moon providing
just enough light to navigate. I felt a surge of confidence.
We were Hunters after all descendants of a long line of
humans who knew how to tread softly and strike fast.
But there was something about Ocala that made you feel small a
whisper in your ear that you were never truly alone.
As we moved the Silence of the night was suddenly Shattered by
a rustling to our right. It was Heavy deliberate the
sound of something big pushing through the underbrush.
My heart kicked against my ribs as I instinctively reached for
my rifle. Hold up.
Mike said his voice low he gestured for me to switch on the
flashlight. We opted against the mounted
lights on our rifles to avoid startling whatever it was.
Maybe it was just a deer or at the very least a bear.
I clicked on the flashlight the beam slicing through the
darkness. We stood still listening as the
rustling grew louder closer, whatever it was.
It was moving fast heading straight for the trail ahead of
us. I braced myself ready to catch
sight of a hog or a startled deer.
But in Stead there was nothing nothing, but the quick flash of
what looked like white legs crossing the trail some 50 feet
up. Human legs it seemed pale and
bear against the dark undergrowth.
What the hell Mike whispered my thoughts exactly.
What kind of person would be out here crashing through the woods
in the middle of the night? We had a choice then to follow
the strange sighting and delve deeper into the unknown or turn
back and admit defeat we chose to press on our curiosity now as
sharp as our blades. The rest of the journey was
marked by occasional sounds from the woods around us a reminder
that we weren't alone, but we saw no further sign of the
mysterious nightwalker. Each step took us deeper into
the heart of Ocala deeper into its Secrets as the night wore on
the forest seemed less like a place on a map and more like a
living breathing entity watching us with unseen eyes.
I couldn't shake the feeling that Ocala wasn't just keeping
its Secrets. It was whispering them. one
rustling Leaf at a time and I was listening whether I wanted
to or not. The trail became a narrow gash
in the earth winding its way through towering Pines that seem
to lean in curious about The Interlopers in their midst.
My boots crunched Softly on the bed of pine needles the sound
almost devoured by the thick silence that enveloped us.
Mike was ahead his outline a ghostly Shadow against the dark
backdrop of the Woods. We hadn't spoken much since
seeing those white legs flit across the trail.
The image lingered in my mind unsettling in its ambiguity.
Was it a prank a lost hiker or something else?
Something that didn't want to be found.
The deeper we walked into Ocala the more I felt the latter might
be true. Our flashlights bobbed with our
steps twin beams that carved out small islands of light in the
ocean of Darkness. Every rustle every snap of a
twig underfoot seemed Amplified. I kept my rifle close the grip
reassuring against my palm. We should be nearing the car
soon. Mike said over his shoulder his
voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to break the night's
spell. I nodded though.
He couldn't see it. The promise of returning to the
familiar cramped space of my old Ford was a welcome one.
As much as I loved the hunt tonight had woven a threat of
unease through the thrill finally the outline of my car
materialized through the trees untouched and solitary under the
watchful eyes of the forest. A wave of relief washed over me.
We quickened our Pace our beams of light swinging wildly in our
haste. As we stowed our gear in the
trunk The Silence of Ocala seemed to press in on us and
expected. I glanced around half expecting
to see a figure standing at the edge of the light watching us.
But there was only the forest and the night.
We climbed into the car the interior of bubble of mundane
safety compared to the wild outside.
I started the engine the purr of the motor a comforting sound.
Mike fiddled with the radio settling on some late-night talk
show that filled the cabin with a name chatter.
But as we drove down the Forest Road, the headlights caught
something a figure walking along the roadside.
It was a man his shirt a checkerboard of light and Shadow
wearing shorts and no gear. No flash light.
That's got to be the guy we saw earlier.
Mike murmured his tone a mix of disbelief and curiosity.
The man didn't look up as we passed just kept walking with a
steady purposeful stride. Where could he be going?
There was nothing for Miles. No reason for him to be out
here. It didn't make sense.
As the roads straightened and we neared the paved exit of the
forest the man vanished from View.
Mike and I exchanged a look question's unspoken but hanging
heavy between us. The rest of the drive was silent
each of us lost in our thoughts. The encounter had cast a shadow
over the night turning another wise successful hunt in to a
puzzle. We couldn't solve.
I dropped Mike off at his place with a casual wave the knights
event still swirling in my mind. As I drove home the empty
streets of my small town seemed eerily similar to the dark Paths
of Ocala. quiet deserted and full of secrets I knew one thing
for certain I would be back. Not just for the thrill of the
hunt but to unravel the mystery of what or who was sharing the
forest with us. Sometimes you hear stories that
you just can't shake off no matter how hard you try.
That's exactly what happened with the story.
Jay told me one chilly evening as we sat curled up on the couch
sipping hot cocoa. J my boyfriend had always been
interested in all things spooky and I guess that's one reason we
clicked because I'm pretty open to that sort of stuff too.
Jay had this old intriguing tale about his childhood one that
involved a Dusty old Ouija board.
He found in his Grandma's Attic. He was just about my age then
maybe a bit older always looking for Adventures or something
mysterious to solve. But this wasn't just any
Adventure. It was one that he'd remember
forever and not in a good way. He told me how he had dusted off
the board the letters almost faded and the planchette a
little pointer quite wobbly despite the Eerie feeling it
gave him curiosity won over and he decided to play with it
alone. He asked it silly questions at
first like if he'd pass his math test or if any girl in his class
liked him, but then he asked if anyone was there with him.
The plot moved to yes, that was the start of everything from
that exact day. Jay said his life changed.
It was like he had opened a door.
He couldn't close we are things began to happen.
He would hear his name whispered when no one was home doors would
slam shut and sometimes his things would go missing only to
turn up in odd places at night it felt as if someone was
watching him and not in a protective Guardian Angel kind
of way but something more sinister.
Listening to him. I felt a chill run down my
spine. I believed in spiritual stuff.
Yes. But Jay's story seemed like
something straight out of a horror movie.
Despite my fears. I couldn't help but be drawn
into his world wondering about the Unseen and The Unexplained.
As Jay's story unfolded I found myself looking around our cozy
living room half expecting to see something uncanny.
But all that greeted me was the soft glow of our lamps and the
comforting crackle of the fire. Yet something about Jay's tale
made the room feel colder the Shadows darker.
I never touched a Ouija board again after that Jake concluded
staring deep into his mug as if it held some Secret.
I reached out squeezing his hand trying to bring him back from
The Haunting memories. The rest of the evening we
switched gears and decided to listen to some creepy and
counter podcasts which we both loved.
But in the back of my mind Jay's story lingard making each
podcast feel a little more real a little more possible.
What if these things were just stories?
What if something really was out there just beyond the edge of
what we could see and understand as we settled in for the night
those thoughts swirled in my mind unsettling yet.
Oddly thrilling little did I know the night was about to take
a turn bringing Jay's stories terrifyingly close to reality.
That night after listening to a couple of spooky podcasts.
Jay and I decided to switch to watching some scary stories on
YouTube to wind down before bed. It sounds weird, right?
Watching scary things to wind down.
But for us it was our way of relaxing.
It was like riding a roller coaster from the safety of our
couch. But what happened next wasn't
something we could have ever predicted.
We were halfway through a particularly creepy story when a
scream shattered the quiet of our room.
It was distant yet clear cutting through the narrator's voice on
the TV. It sounded like a little girl's
Cry for Help coming from somewhere outside in the dark.
I looked at J my eyes wide with fear and he paused the video.
We listened holding our breaths. There it was again the same
scream only this time it seemed closer more desperate.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
J muted the TV and we sat in silence straining our ears
against the Stillness of the night.
The scream came again and it was unmistakable this time.
It wasn't just our imagination. Suddenly our cats who had been
sleeping peacefully at our feet jumped up their backs arched and
they hissed towards the front door their eyes fixed on
something. We couldn't see their reaction
made my heart race even faster. animals are supposed to sense
things humans can't write what were they seeing that we
couldn't before we could come for them a new sound began.
It started as a soft tapping like fingertips drumming against
the windowpane. Then it grew louder and more
insistent as if someone or something was tapping on every
window and door around the house. tap tap tap it went on
and on a Sinister Rhythm that seemed to Echo the beating of my
own heart. Should we check it out J
whispered his voice barely Audible.
No, let's just stay here. I replied my voice shaking.
I wasn't about to go anywhere near those doors or Windows not
with that taping not with those screams.
We decided to hide under the bed which might seem silly but it
felt like the only safe place at that moment.
We crawled underneath pulling a couple of blankets with us.
Lying there in the cramped Dusty space.
I held Jay's hand tightly. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I
tried to stifle my sobs. I was scared that whatever was
outside could hear us could sense our fear.
The tapping continued for what felt like ours tap tap tap.
It was relentless. Then as suddenly as it had
started it stopped the silence that followed was almost worse
than the noise. It was Heavy filled with
anticipation of what might come next.
We didn't dare move. We stayed under the bed holding
each other waiting for the sun to rise. neither of us spoke
much what was there to say? In that moment, we both
understood the reality of fear. Not just the kind you hear in
stories, but the Deep primal fear that makes you realize how
vulnerable you really are. As Dawn finally broke and the
first light crept into the room. We finally allowed ourselves to
breathe. What ever had visited us that
night had gone leaving us with nothing, but the Echoes of our
own fear. But the question remained, what
was it and more importantly would it come back?
Life as they say can turn on a dime.
For me, it seemed to turn on every Restless thought and every
side that escaped my lips in the Silence of our two empty house.
That Sunday night the world outside was alive with the usual
hum of the main road a constant reminder that life went on
bustling and busy just beyond my front door.
Across the street the high school stood like a sentinel
dark and quiet a stark contrast to the chaos within its walls
during the day. My wife Emily had gone to stay
with her mother in a neighboring City a few weeks ago.
We were taking a break. A phrase that felt like a thin
veil over a gaping wound. Our conversations had become
minefields our home a battleground of silent
treatments and whispered grievances.
She left in search of peace. I suppose and me.
I was left grappling with the pieces trying to forge some
semblance of normalcy in the echoing spaces of our once
shared life. The kids were tucked in bed
their gentle breathing a rhythmic comfort as I moved
through the motions of organizing our home.
Boxes once packed with the optimism of a family making a
new start now stood as monuments to our fragmented reality
stacked. Neatly by the front door.
I had decided to unpack them not because they needed unpacking
but because the task gave me a sense of purpose.
A distraction from the heavy cloak of loneliness that had
settled around my shoulders. It was late, maybe too late for
the noise. I was making but the emptiness
of the house swallowed the sounds leaving behind a quiet
that was too loud in its silence.
I was winding down my thoughts turning to the week ahead when a
sound sliced through the night. So out of place it made my heart
stop. a baby crying at first I thought it might be a trick of
my weary mind a phantom whale born from too many sleepless
nights, but there it was again a clear sharp cry that seemed to
come from just outside. I froze listening trying to make
sense of it. My children six and nine were
far past the age of nighttime cries. a chill ran down my spine
as I moved toward the door driven by a mixture of concern
and a growing unease peaking out the night greeted me with its
cool and differents. The street was empty the usual
nighttime quiet settling over the neighborhood like a thick
fog. But as I strained my eyes in the
dim light I saw it. An unsettling misshapen figure
shuffling up the sidewalk. It was too far to discern
details, but it was definitely not human. not anymore if it
ever was I stepped outside the door slamming shut behind me in
my Haste The Sound seemed to startle the creature.
It paused turning its head in my direction heart pounding.
I could only stare as it faced me the details of its form were
obscured by the Shadows, but the feeling of wrongness it
projected was palpable. Panicked I retreated back inside
slamming the door and locking it my mind raced as I backed away
from the door trying to process what I had just seen it wasn't
just fear that gripped me. It was the realization that my
understanding of the world of what was possible and what wasnt
had just expanded in a way. I was not prepared to handle.
I grabbed a machete from the utility closet a laughable
defense perhaps but it was something.
As I stood there weapon in hand The Silence of the house now
seemed oppressive suffocating. I was alone truly alone.
And for the first time the weight of that Solitude felt
like it might just crush me. The moments after I slammed the
door shut felt longer than any I'd experienced before.
My heart was pounding so loudly I was certain it could be heard
throughout the quiet house the machete felt clumsy in my hand a
poor substitute for actual safety.
Yet it was all I had to defend myself against whatever was out
there. I stood there Frozen listening
intently for any signs of movement outside.
The soft ticking of the kitchen clock mocked the rapid pace of
my pulse. I was expecting to hear the
shuffle of footsteps the scraping of claws or the ominous
silence broken by another cry in Stead.
There came a different sound a heavy deliberate set of
footsteps. That seemed too rhythmic and
solid to belong to anything human.
They sounded like Hooves clicking against the concrete of
our front walk in a steady haunting Cadence.
Stretched into an eternity as I waited every sense strained in
the heavy Silence of my Fortress of Solitude.
Finally when I could stand the suspense no longer I edged
toward the door machete gripped tightly.
I appeared through the people but saw nothing but the Shadows
of the Night. Taking a deep breath.
I unlocked the door and pulled it open with a swift determined
motion. What greeted me was chaos, the
neat stack of boxes. I had earlier arranged.
So meticulously was now a sprawled mess across the
driveway boxes were torn open their contents strewn about like
the aftermath of some bizarre tantrum.
The night air was still with no sign of the creature that had
caused such disarray. I stepped outside my eyes
scanning the darkness for any sign of movement any hint of the
misshapen figure I had seen earlier.
But there was nothing just the ordinary night sounds of a town
at rest as if the world were wholly unaware of the terror
that had visited my doorstep. Over the next few days the
weight of what had happened bore down on me.
I found myself jumping at Shadows every sound making me
tense and ready for a confrontation.
That never came. My sleep was fitful filled with
nightmares that left me waking in a cold sweat.
During the day I scoured the internet for any explanation and
he similar experience is that could tell me what I had
encountered. That's when I stumbled upon
Tales of skinwalkers creatures from Native American loras said
to be able to transform into possess or disguise themselves
as animals. Could my emotional turmoil have
attracted such a being was it possible that these entities
were drawn to the lonely in the Brokenhearted feeding off their
despair the thought was both terrifying and strangely
validating. It meant I wasn't crazy that
perhaps there was more to my experience than just an
overactive imagination fueled by stress and fear.
As the days turned into weeks the immediate fear began to dull
replaced by a lingering caution and a deep-seated curiosity.
I was more aware more watchful no longer the passive Observer
of my own life, but an active participant in a mysterious
Unseen World. I decided to share my story not
just as a warning to others but as a way to find connection and
perhaps answers. If anything, I hope that by
reaching out by exposing my vulnerability and fear, I might
find others who had witnessed the inexplicable who could offer
understanding or at the very least the comfort of shared
experience. It was a step towards healing
towards reclaiming the piece that had been so brutally
disrupted that unsettling night. For the longest time my best
friend since childhood was obsessed with Northern British
Columbia up in Canada. I guess to some people that
might sound like an odd place to become fixated on but once I saw
some of the pictures on her Instagram feed posted by hiking
influencers who often visited the region I started to
understand why. Northern BC is one of the most
beautiful places in the entire world.
Although Lana my BFF wasn't an act of hiker or anything.
She fell in love with the place. She said it was one of her
dreams to visit. Atlan Provincial Park all
because of this mountain they called the cathedral.
Just below the peak. There's a strip of flat land
with a small Lake on it that turns piercing blue in the
summer. Lana was totally obsessed with
it. She had one photo of it as her
phone background for months on end.
When she finally switched it up for another it was yet another
picture of the cathedral. The last straw was when she
started saying things like it sucks on never get to visit it.
I don't have anyone to go with. I guess I just wanted to be that
kind of friend that helped her dreams come true.
So I started looking into how to get there.
I found out that we could catch a seaplane to a place called
Peggy's Island. And from there a Wilderness
tourist company could take us all the way over to the
foothills of the cathedral by boat.
After that, it was really just a case of climbing the cathedral
slope's which apparently weren't all that steep.
And then there you go. We were at my best friend's
number one favorite location on Earth a place.
She thought she'd never ever see.
I figured if I plan the whole thing in secret told her to
expect a weekend vacation to Cancun around the date of her
29th birthday, and then actually pulled the whole thing off.
I'd be the greatest friend in the history of friends.
It took a load of saving and planning, but eventually I was
able to Spring the surprise on her.
For months. I had been telling her that we
were headed down to Mexico for a few days in the sun which is how
I made sure that she had a valid passport without alerting her to
my real plan. Then on the very same morning
that we were due to fly down to Cancun.
I got to see her face when I told her that we weren't headed
to Mexico. We were headed to Port Hardy on
Vancouver Island where we would catch a sea plane all the way up
to Peggy's island in the cathedral.
She was ecstatic and all though. It meant that she had to totally
repack. I'd made her dream come true.
But if I had known what I was getting us into I wouldn't have
been so happy at all. We caught our flights up to
Vancouver made our way to Port Hardy and then flew all the way
up to northern BC in our very own tin bucket of a chartered
sea plane. that flight alone could have made for its own
scary story, but we made it up to Peggy Island safely and set
up our tents at one of the campsites they had their After
that, we had our first face-to-face with the person who
would be our tour guide the following day.
Charles was around the same age as Lana and me late 20s, or
early 30s and to be totally honest.
He was a very beautiful man. You could tell that he worked
out a bunch and wore a tight Ranger style uniform to show it
off, but he also pulled it off. He had deep brown eyes and a
mustache that somehow didn't make him look like a creep but
only more masculine. He was handsome charming funny
and we thought that we'd hit a total jackpot with him being
assigned as our tour guide. After walking us through the
plan for the next morning. We went back to our campsite and
relaxed until it was time to sleep.
The next morning we met up with Charles Brighton early had a
little hot breakfast over at the tors Center and then climbed
into the boat that took us across the lake to where the
cathedral was. Charles was just as Charming as
he had been the day before even in spite of it being so early in
the morning and he even took us on a small tour of the lake.
Stopping so we could take pictures before heading over to
the shore on the other side. It took us a while to get up to
the flat part of the mountain. We'd been going hiking together
in the run-up to the trip putting Lana through some
unexpected mountain climbing training.
But even with all we'd done hiking up the cathedral was
tough. We were spent by the time we
reached the flat section that we'd seen so many times on
Instagram, but when we did it was every bit as magical as in
the pictures, which meant each of us got very emotional.
Charles just watched on with a smile letting us have a little
moment together. Then at some point I looked over
to see him talking into His Radio.
Charles had been checking in with the tour Center every so
often the whole time that we'd been out.
So seeing him talking into His Radio wasn't unusual or
concerning in the slightest. Lana and I carried on doing our
thing taking pictures and videos Etc until suddenly Charles
called out that we had to end the trip prematurely.
I remember turning around to see him looking kind of anxious
before asking why exactly we needed to cut things short.
We'd agreed to climb a little more of the mountains so we
could get some more shots of the views on the other side.
So as much as we were happy to be up there.
We felt a little short change that our guide was suddenly
calling time on the proceedings. I remember asking why we needed
to head back early and I'm being 100% honest when I say that if
he'd give an any kind of half decent answer I would have
complied without complaint. But when I asked why all Charles
said in a very uncharacteristically rude way
was don't question my decisions. I guess that on paper that
sounds fine and that may be some kind of unforeseen problem had
Arisen, but I literally cannot overemphasize how much don't
question my decision sounded like because I said, so I asked
again why we needed to head back early and was almost stunned
into silence. When the same man who'd been
veritably Prince Charming just 24 hours previously suddenly
became incredibly rude and abrupt.
And not just rude. This might be hard to describe
but Charles almost seemed scared and scared in a way that he was
trying to mask it with bravado. And this led me to keep asking
him why we had to leave early because naturally if we were
facing any kind of real danger like a storm or something
similar then we wanted to know about it.
We'd also paid for a whole day's worth of our tour guide time.
So we wanted to know if we'd be getting a partial refund or
something to that effect. I guess this makes us sound like
total Karen's in a way, but I swear to God if Charles had just
said something like okay ladies. We've got a sudden storm front
heading in so we just need to conclude this tour a little
earlier than expected. We both would have been like,
okay, no problem. Let's go but we felt like we
were being kept in the dark by a guy who sudden turn in Behavior
was deeply alarming and that just didn't sit right with me at
all. Eventually Charles said eff this
turned around and then started walking off towards the trail
which led back down the mountain.
But he didn't just wander off either it looked like he was
walking off as fast as he possibly could and considering
he was a tall fit guy and an experienced hiker.
It wasn't long before he put a very worrying amount of distance
between Lana and me who by that point had no choice but to
follow quickly. We kept yelling for him calling
out Charles's name and begging him to wait up so we could catch
up to him, but he didn't stop. He didn't turn around.
He just kept on walking down the Mountainside putting more and
more distance between us as time went by.
It got to the point where Lana and I thought that he was going
to leave us behind and all we had with us was our bags with a
little bit of water some snacks and some waterproof material.
We had no Maps no Compass. Nothing to tell us where we were
exactly or which direction we were going.
So if Charles actually left us there alone, we would be in a
lot of trouble. It was Lana who first suggested
that he might just leave us there and drive off in the boat.
And when she did we both went into full panic mode.
We started screaming like full on screaming for Charles begging
him to wait for us and not leave us behind.
And then finally he stopped but he didn't just stop dead on the
trail and he didn't start walking back up towards us
either. He just started pacing back and
forth and talking to himself and I say talking to himself, but it
was more like he was walking in a circle fists clenched and
every so often he'd yell something that either we could
or couldn't understand. As we got closer he started
yelling things out at us in the same sort of way.
Like he was literally so Furious that you could only make out
every other thing he was saying, I managed to catch things like
always got to have things your way and never think about anyone
but yourself. But the rest was pretty much
garbled yells. I guess Instinct kicked in for
me because I started apologizing to Charles over and over because
by then I'd have done almost anything to get him to calm down
so we could just leave in peace. Lana started apologizing too,
but it didn't seem to do any good.
He just kept pacing around and yelling about how we needed to
listen how no one ever listened to him.
And how was he supposed to act when no one listened to him?
It was only then that it occurred to me that something
else was going on. There wasn't an emergency or at
least there didn't seem to be one if Charles was content to
just stop on the trail like that.
But then something had definitely happened to make him
start acting that way. And the change seemed to occur
after he talked into His Radio for a minute.
I still had no idea how the two things were connected as in like
what was said that made him go crazy, but it definitely seemed
like he was having some kind of breakdown right there on the
Mountainside. We kept apologizing begging him
to just calm down and take us back to the tour Center and all
though. We have eventually agreed
Charles is mood did not improve. He yelled at us to follow him
and not fall behind and then he marched off again at the same
speed that he had previously. Luckily, we were much closer to
where the boat was parked. So we didn't fall too far behind
and we were able to make it to the shore just as he was
starting up the boat. He was still yelling when he
told us to climb in and he also seemed to be gradually calming
down like he was on the back end of whatever he was going
through. Only with that in mind did we
climb back into the boat? But Charles hadn't finished just
yet. As he drove us across the Lake
Charles carried on that thing of being quiet for a while and then
yelling a curse word or something.
But he also drove way faster than he had before to the point
that it was actually scary Lana and I kept yelling slow down.
And at first he just yelled stuff back that was drowned out
by the sound of the engine and the water.
We went a little further and we started yelling again for him to
stop and then suddenly he did. He stopped the boat right there
in the middle of the lake turned around and just sort of see that
us. He was so flushed his whole face
was pink. His fists were clenched and I
swear I've never seen anyone's eyes go.
So wide in my whole life. I thought he was gonna hurt us
kill us even. And out there in the middle of
the lake. We had no where to run and
nowhere to hide. It was like he was thinking
about it really weighing up his options and the voice that was
saying don't hurt them was only just barely winning.
For as long as I live, I'll never ever forget the sound of
Lana saying please don't in this really shaky voice.
I think that actually made him snap out of it a little because
after that he turned around got back in the little driver's seat
and then carried on driving the boat back to the doc or whatever
and only by this time in complete silence.
All Lana and I did was sit there in the back of the boat eyes
glued to the back of Charles's head shaking with fear while we
eat. Hope that he wouldn't turn
around or stop the boat again. As soon as we arrived back at
the dock Lana literally jumped off the boat onto the wooden
dock before Charles had a chance to even bring the boat to a
complete stop. I was quick to follow her but as
Lana ran all the way back to our tents.
I turned back to give Charles a piece of my mind.
Basically about how we were going to get him fired for the
way. He treated us.
Again total Karen thing to say, but it was literally the first
thing that came to mind and all I was thinking about in the
moment was warning his boss or co-workers that he was having
some kind of violent episode. I guess I was feeling brave
because we were back on dry land but as Charles climbed up onto
the dock I kept on berating him which admittedly was not the
best idea ever because after finding his feet he walked
towards me wrapped a hand around my throat and started to
squeeze. It was probably the single
scariest moment of my entire life seeing those wild eyes come
back again knowing that he could crush my neck if he wanted to
and worst of all I felt like an idiot.
I should have run back to the tent with Lana or straight to
the tors Center to warn Charles's co-workers and I paid
for it by getting choked so hard that I thought I was going to
die. Luckily though.
People had already heard me yelling at Charles and were
approaching the dock. By the time he grabbed my throat
within just a few seconds. We were being separated by a
bunch of guides and campers. Two of Charles's male co-workers
walked him off someplace and we didn't see where and as the
people around us started asking what had happened.
We broke down into tears as we told them.
Charles had been fine one second.
Then the next it was like he was a totally different person.
It was honestly so scary to see that kind of change in him.
And we had literally no idea what had happened to make him
act like that. The head of the tour company
then brought us to their office got us some coffee and offered
to contact the seaplane people so we could leave that day if
possible and they were honestly super awesome about the whole
thing probably because they were terrified of getting sued.
But all we wanted was a promise that Charles would be fired and
to know exactly what he'd been told that made him go crazy like
that. The head of the company didn't
know everything that had been going on in Charles's life, but
she had been the one to pass along that piece of news on the
radio. Apparently, she'd gotten a call
from his wife asking if Charles was available to talk.
Obviously, he wasn't because he was out conducting a tour with
us. The head of the company then
asked Charles's wife if she'd like to call back, and she said
no and that she never wanted to hear from him.
Again. All she wanted was for the
company head to pass along a message.
I caught him cheating again. I'm taking the kids and he's
never going to see any of us ever again.
Personally, I'd have waited until after the tour to tell him
such life-changing piece of news.
But I guess the head of the company thought it was the kind
of news Charles needed to hear right away.
That part did make me consider hiring an attorney.
But like I said, they'd promised to fire Charles and were good
enough to tell us something they had every right to withhold. so
I decided not to Filing a lawsuit would have destroyed
their company all over one dumb mistake and above all it was
Charles's decision alone to act like such a monster.
No one else's and besides no amount of money could help with
the guilt. I felt afterward.
Lana said that she didn't need an apology that it wasn't my
fault and I understand that but I still feel terrible for
promising my best friend the trip of her dreams and pretty
much having it turned into a living nightmare.
When I look back at one of my hitchhiking Adventures, I now
realize just how lucky I was that I wasn't raped or murdered
at the time. I was having fun in the 60s and
never considered that anything really bad could ever happen to
me. I mean come on it was the decade
of free love and acceptance new agers and hippies were trying to
see the beauty in life. Not the heinous.
Sometimes being naive could blind someone to the realities
of life or even certain situations like hitchhiking.
I have to give you a little background before you read about
the truly scary part of my story.
The summer After High School, I worked at my parents gas station
in trade for tuition at a business school in the fall.
I tried to be good but got myself kicked out shortly after
I mastered typing and lost the art of shorthand.
Whereas this is always been a valued skill.
It was really all I learned. So I didn't bother finding
another job in 1969 the lore of drugs and rock and roll coupled
with teenage angst and hormones gave me one choice grab Life by
the balls and run as fast as you can.
I kissed the hippie lifestyle and embraced every romantic
notion to become a full blown hippie headbands smoking pot
listening to music Society deemed unacceptable entertaining
ideas of a different age. I moved down the road a little
bit to Eugene, Oregon a university town with a football
team in everything. It was a bit of a culture shock.
But with my new perspective on life a culture shock was kind of
what I was looking for. I wanted things to be new
different and above all exciting.
My very first communal house was on Gates street just blocks away
from the Student Union also known as the Cannabis campus.
I didn't hitchhike around town much because I was young and
either walked or just got a ride with Rich friends who had cars.
I saved myself for the righteous times at the coast and that was
only about an hour away. I would stick out my thumb hitch
a ride in a slug bug with hippies that shared their brew
and pot. Sometimes I would even get
invited to Gnarly parties with honks and jamming music what a
gas. This is a true story.
My best friend and I decided we were stoked to go to the coast
and watch the sunset. A big hulking Greaser type Guy
picked us up in his Dodge Charger muscle car and took us
the final 20 miles. He'd recently come home from
Vietnam. And even though we weren't
warmongers, he thought we'd be stoked to show him a groovy
time. We partied for a long time with
a bonfire on the beach wieners on a stick and some boss weed.
She married that man. And you know what else?
After her brother came home from Vietnam.
I married him. We both got divorced, but she
still my best friend after 50 years of growing up and now
growing old. I hitched mostly alone went to
places like San Francisco just to say I did so.
Other times when someone would want to go somewhere I'd offer
to be the freaking charge guiding us down a major highway
with our thumbs out. It never soaked in passed my
drug dilated eyes that something bad might have happened to us on
one of these trips. I was and still am naively
confident that I can take care of myself.
Nevertheless sometimes things happen that scare me now a lot
more than they did back then. This was another time and a
different friend that wanted to go down to Cucamonga,
California. When she said the name, I
thought she was screwing with my head and I told her I needed to
see the sign before I believed it.
It was such a stupid name. That's how easy it was to find
somewhere out of sight to waste our time if it had a weird
enough name. That was a reason to spend a
weekend hitching their we beat feet on a hot summer day.
The rides were short. But so was the wait time I
suspect our perky youthful attitude was apparent in her big
chest and my cute butt. I know what you're thinking that
I'm exaggerating but these were the real bartering pieces of the
road. When we hitchhiked with a man in
our company we had to do our best to hide the freaking guy
because we knew girls were more likely to get picked up.
Once we got a car to stop we put our bubbling faces up in the
window and the driver didn't care if it was a guy or two as
long as a lady sat up front to do the entertaining.
But if it was just me or one or two of my pretty friends with
nice bodies. We were flying down the highway
having people fight to give us a ride.
That is such a scary thought to me now.
What the hell were we doing exposing our bodies on the
street in order to get a stranger to stop?
Like I said at the start I am truly amazed that I was never
murdered around Medford. We could see the Cascade
mountain range and were ready for cooler temperatures and a
change of scenery. Our last ride was a bug with
working Windows in primo weed. We were having a blast excited
about catching some California Rays Along Comes This fancy new
F100. We pee signed each other for
luck. This truck would surely have
some AC and the chrome dome would be safe.
I slid to the middle and my friends squished her tall frame
next to the door less than 10 miles down the road.
This guy starts talking in riddles.
I love the way this generation accepts.
Everybody is open-minded about new things.
He said. He rambled on then explained how
he is into flower power and free love.
Out of nowhere and in a flash his thing was out and he asked
you don't mind if I get off do you?
My face turned towards her my eyes got so big they nearly
popped out of their sockets. What the hell I said I turned to
look out the window. This was slowly turning into a
nightmare. This was real danger, and I
didn't have any means of Escape. I was literally sitting right
next to the psycho. We were flying down the road at
80 miles per hour. Even if we had to jump we'd be
nothing but a blood stain on the road when it was all said and
done. He's booking at freeway speeds
his right hand doing the Johnson jerk at the speed of light.
Thankfully it's over pretty fast and he goes right back to talk
about politics or music or something else.
It was all smiles completely polite when he dropped us off a
few miles down the road. When his sperm white truck
disappeared over the hill we dropped to our knees in a
laughter that was mixed with hysteria and a little paranoia.
We still had a long way to go needed to flip-flop our head
away from Peter guy and towards the bitching times ahead.
Whenever I swap stories with hitchhikers, this is definitely
the most common one that I hear. It's like everybody who's ever
stuck their thumb out man or woman.
Has ended up on the wrong end of some driver wanking it.
It's super weird. I think it has to do with the
power of actually driving the car, but who knows?
It's fortunate that most of my trips were playful and exposed
me to some interesting people. I was pretty insulated inside my
rural community the college town itself had very little
diversity. I know how naive it sounds but I
met my first out of the closet gay as a 19 year old.
It was the wee hours in the morning on the outskirts of
Chicago. I figured I would be standing by
the exit rail till Dawn. It was bone cold.
I was dead tired and a misery level 4 had just kicked in.
Then I saw a car coming out of the fog.
It slowed down and stopped directly in front of me.
I didn't even have to run down the road wondering if they would
take off again when I got close. sometimes jerks thought it was
fun making the stupid hippie run because Well, they always did
anyway. They were cool heads only a few
years older than me. At first they started a banter
like they were movie Mobster types.
I'm not scared. I'm wearing my gifted paracord
bracelet. I'm just an Oregon hick and
these boys were deciding to educate me in the moment.
It turned out one guy was an actor and they were coming home
from a place. They were going to a party at
home with wine and hash and offered the couch if I wanted to
rest. At this time of night.
It sounded like a utopian dream and I sure as hell hope that
they share that hash. We continued driving through the
well-lit streets to where the worn out buildings are kept.
I remember the stairwell was so narrow that my backpack banged
against the walls my goofy giggle echoed my awkwardness.
I don't remember exactly how far up it went.
But I do remember that they had this tiny window that looked out
onto a neighborhood that before tonight.
I never knew existed God I was so young and unseasoned about
big city ways. The night unfolded with some
wine and they didn't Bogart the hash.
It was weird how these guys never mellowed out.
They geared up and became the most outrageously can't be gays
I've ever met like right out of a movie.
They got more and more wild more and more feminine before
eventually closed started flying off.
I partied Hardy as long as my hazy brain could last but too
much too soon, and I had to crash.
I lay on the couch loaded to the max trying to absorb all the
groovy expressions and Stories being thrown around.
I felt so grown up hanging with all these City people and wanted
to season myself with their worldly ways.
I tucked that memory in tight and felt like the flavor of me
had just gotten a little spicier.
This experience was only scary because at one point I woke up
and two of them were trying to tie my hands behind my back.
I yanked free and asked what they were doing to which they
both got very embarrassed and started acting weird.
They gave some form of excuse something like they were
practicing for another place in and it involved tying up a
person on the floor. I said what ever and went back
to bed, but part of me thinks I might have interrupted something
spooky back. Then.
I do have another trip that got way too hairy.
It was made worse by the Buffalo City pigs calling my parents in
Oregon at midnight what had their freaky first born done
now, it was barely dark and a passenger car had picked me up
just outside of Buffalo. He said he was going to Albany
which would be a choice ride. Usually the truckers are the
only ones with the Long Freeway stretches.
The locals were the hip hop around or go through the big
cities to get into a nice cozy car and be told it's going to be
for a few hours. That's good luck man.
The guy was just typical. It didn't bother me when he said
he had to jump off the freeway for a minute to check a
construction site that he was running.
He went down the exit about a mile or so pulled into this
little closed business parking lot turned off the car and as
fast as a rattlesnake grabbed my wrist.
What the hell is going on with this guy?
What happened? Next is one of those many
impossibilities that have happened in my lifetime.
My right hand grabbed for the door handle at least one leg was
reaching for the ground. Out of nowhere a cop pulls up on
my side the guy immediately. Lets go.
I yank my backpack over the seat in was safe outside of the car
in just a moment. I should have felt grateful.
I was saved from getting taken or even murdered but mostly I
just felt panic. Oh, no.
I got a joint in my pocket.
How do I get rid of this? Since nothing really happened.
I thought when I told the cop what the guy did he would let me
go maybe slap the guy around a little bit.
No, the damn Pig decided. I was lying about everything
told the guy to take off and he would take care of me.
This nightmare scenario was getting worse as the guy that
was clearly about to hurt me. Just got let off the hook.
Whatever consequence was coming had my name written on it now.
I wasn't handcuffed, but I sat in the back of the car.
I never found a time where I could eat or ditch the joint.
I expected I'd be going to jail well forever.
I was really sweating back there as I knew there wouldn't be a
quick way out. There's no sticking my thumb out
this time or getting carried away in a stranger's car.
I was already in a stranger's car.
And that act alone might mess up my life forever.
Thankfully he didn't search me but did call my parents and let
them know what their daughter was doing.
I can only imagine the helpless anguish.
They must have felt as they didn't tell my parents that I
was hitchhiking. They told my parents.
I was a hooker soliciting and back alleys.
I mean that's what it looked like with the guy in the car now
my relationship with my folks is on the line.
This was actually the scariest part of the story though being
alone with that. Cop was just me and that one
officer after he got done with whatever he needed to do to
secure the scene. He came back and opened up my
door told me to get out. Whoa.
No way. I guess this is my lucky day.
Maybe he is letting me go wrong. He looked me up and down a
couple of times even asked me to spin around then made some of
the most disgusting threats I've ever heard explained exactly
what he wanted to do to me. How hard he do it. just that
typical slimeball stuff scary again because I was powerless in
this situation. This guy could do whatever he
wanted to do. Shoot me even lie, and he would
never see the inside of a jail cell.
All I could do was take his threats and hope to God they
stopped right there. After that, he put me in the
back of the car drove me to the station while we drove he
reached a hand in the backseat like he wanted to cop a feel but
I was done being a pushover. I'd scream bite one of his
fingers. If one of them wormed their way
over to my legs for a little touch got to the station on
molested where I was led into a holding room.
I sat in the hallway for a few hours eventually.
They let me walk out the front door and down the road.
I found a little hidden spot behind this dumpster decided to
just lean back smoke the evidence and let well enough
alone for the night. There was clearly no help to be
had in the city. Nobody I could turn to.
So being on the street kind of frightened me.
I wouldn't be caught walking around in the dark.
So I just hid back there till sunrise then.
Did my best to hustle a safe ride home?
I was young clueless about how dangerous hitchhiking could be.
I was so mad at that cop in the moment for getting me in trouble
with my parents that it didn't even dawn on me what predicament
I had just escaped. Clearly that man had driven me
to some CD back alley area of the city to hurt me back there.
How bad I can't say for sure, but I will say I later learned
and found out that that area was a known sight to dump off
prostitute's. There were probably dead girls
back there while I was getting arrested.
It's how bad that area was. When you read this or hear this,
I'm sure you're yelling or saying to yourself.
Stop. What the hell is wrong with you
girl? It's true.
I had a lot more miles notched in my backpack than friends, but
it seemed like my Niche also these were much different times
when peace and love was the slogan and challenging the
status quo was the decree I indulged in lots of pot and
hallucinogens, but never got caught up in the hard drugs.
I didn't trust myself. Still I wouldn't change one
minute during this two and a half year stage of my life.
Honestly, I wish I had the stamina and a long weekend to do
it all over again, even if I still look back and shudder.
While hitchhiking from London to France my girlfriend and I
mistakenly tried to catch a lift on the M20 off-ramp.
We had seen plenty of people hitchhiking there before and
didn't think much of it. It was the busiest roadway
leading in the direction. We were trying to go the issue
was that we had never actually hitchhiked before and ultimately
had no idea what we were doing. a security car pulled up with
wailing sirens a man in a yellow jacket jumped out barked at us
to put our bags down and waited for the police.
Not long after a police car arrived and two friendly young
policemen told us that hitchhiking was not allowed
there. They ended up giving us a lift
to the port at Dover where we caught a ferry to Cali.
The police seemed pretty understanding especially after
we spoke face to face and they could see we were just a
harmless couple trying to travel for free.
They offered us some advice while driving us to the port and
even more after we landed in France.
They were very understanding and got us on the right foot towards
our ultimate destination. Our real mistake was not finding
an onward lift from our fellow Travelers while on the ferry.
The boat was packed with all manner of cars and travelers
most of whom were paired up. We were the only people on the
boat without a ride the second we hit the port in France.
Instead of networking during the ferry ride and securing a ride
to the next Township. We just sat with one another and
chatted. By the time we crossed the
channel, the other Travelers were loaded up into their cars
and ready to hit the road. Exiting the ferry at Calais.
We walked out of the port and stood on the on ramp with our
thumbs out holding a cardboard sign with our destination
stencil on it in thick black ink we were headed for Austria
ultimately with a deadline to meet family traveling more
conventionally in Saltsburg. It was naively optimistic to
have a date in mind when hitchhiking long distances as we
walked out to get into our hitchhiking position.
We watched with growing realization as everybody just
rolled by in their cars. The problem immediately became
obvious. The port is designed to get cars
straight off the ferry and onto the motorway.
It doesn't lead anywhere else. So once every half hour or so,
we'd get a single wave of cars rushing by. the rest of the time
zilch again, these are people with their own schedules trying
to quickly race off the fairy through town and into the
mainland. We didn't have much of a choice.
So we just stood there watching each pack of cars stream past
us. No one even slowing or looking
in our Direction. We'd arrived early in the
afternoon and soon it began to get dark making hitchhiking
impossible and even dangerous at this point.
We were along a coast in a country that we weren't from and
no one seemed interested in lending us a hand.
This is when the trip started to take a turn and our energy
teetered on that of defeat. We debated trying to get back
into the port and catch a bus into Calais but decided it was
getting late. So we opted to camp on the coast
and try again the next day. This was kind of scary at first.
We didn't know what to expect in the dark, but we were committed
to whatever lay in store for us. I was doing everything in my
power to remain positive. Even if it was just for my
partner's sake but I could see the situation starting to take a
toll on her. Once we reach the dunes along
the coast we realized that this stretch of coast is where all
the migrants and refugees who want to get across to England
camp out. It's a huge space for temporary
Travelers of every variation. Some folks had been there for
weeks even months. It seemed like a whole little
Community with its own economy. Literally thriving right there
on the fringes of the desert. It gave us a bit of comfort as
there were plenty of women and children around and there didn't
seem to be a huge cause for alarm from Bandits or even
thieves just generally good intentioned people waiting for
their turn to travel. So there we were two young
Israelis in our little tent surrounded by arabic-speaking
families and lots of young men. I'm sure we were completely
safe, but we didn't feel it inside that tent so many
strangers around us were unsettling but also kind of
disarming because none of them seem to be dangerous or scared
themselves. We just relaxed cuddled and
slowly drifted off to sleep. In the dead of the darkness
though. I heard the last thing I wanted
to hear. somebody fumbling with our zipper I woke and just laid
there listening for a moment before my girlfriend woke up and
jostled me urging me to take some form of action.
I cleared my throat and shouted at the top of my lungs that our
tent was occupied. We were armed inside and
prepared to call the police. The person outside immediately
let go of the zipper once I said this I could tell they were
alone. No speaking no communication.
Otherwise, I told them to leave and not return to our tent and
that's what they seem to do. No more issues for the rest of
that night. I don't know what they wanted
but it was beyond bizarre. It had to be a thief of some
kind right perhaps even worse. I think the fact that I was so
loud drove them off immediately not so much the threats.
We were camped by some families that seemed to be good natured.
So yelling of any kind would be sure to get somebody else's
attention. A few months later.
We read in the papers that the police had raided the Calais in
campement. People were beaten tents trashed
this didn't happen to us, but I imagine it was terrifying for
anyone caught in the chaos. The next morning we woke up not
feeling very refreshed and decided to try out hitchhiking
again. We chose a spot where there was
room to pull over and enough of a straight for people to see us
and then slow down. It was the most logical place
for us to stick our thumbs out. It also got us away from the
majority of the desert dwellers that we had just spent the night
with. We spent that morning getting
cleaned up and presentable as that was key in my mind.
Clean Travelers seemed to be more likely to get picked up 8
a.m. Whoosh a dozen cars whiz by 8:30
whoosh 9 a.m. Whoosh 9:30 9:00 11:00 noon.
Whoosh. Whoosh whoosh.
We were getting seriously demoralized by now.
Out of our four days to get to Saltsburg.
We had spent the first day in a half standing in Calais.
This was before cell phones. So there was no way to let her
family know that we were running late or even if we were okay.
It was starting to dawn on me that this was a mistake.
We were potentially stranded without any idea of how long it
would take us to get back. 1 p.m.
Comes and goes 2 p.m. The same nobody even slows down
my girlfriend at this point is just sitting dejectedly on our
bags while I tried to look cheerful.
Nobody's going to stop for miserable looking hitchhikers at
this point though. There are large gaps between the
rushes of cars. And for some reason the fairy
traffic was slowing down and with it our chances of getting a
ride anywhere. I could feel the hungry prying
eyes of the desert dwelling campers behind us eager for us
to return to the camp for the night so they could try their
hand at raping or robbing us. This isn't any kind of racial
slight. It's just the reality on the
road bad things can happen to hitchhikers going
internationally. 2:30 nothing three PM nothing the usual wave
of cars just whizzing by us. But then out of nowhere a squeal
of breaks a big black BMW at the rear of the pack comes to a
complete stop a good 300 meters Beyond us.
Everybody else disappears Over the Horizon as our savior slams
into reverse and accelerates the whole way then squeals to a stop
right next to us. Get in our check hero says his
wife beside him handed him a Red Bull every 100 kilometers.
I don't remember their exact business, but the couple seemed
pretty well off affluent and very busy.
In hindsight. I think they were high probably
on Coke or some other stimulant. They talked loud and Fast and
were interested in any kind of discussion.
I will call the driver Jacob and his wife Kat.
Jacobs foot is Led heavy? He has a radar jammer to foil
police speed traps and he does not go below 200 kilometers per
hour all the way through France and Belgium to Frankfurt, which
is where he dropped us off. And I'll admit it felt only like
10 minutes later, but was actually 600 kilometers closer
to our destination. To say that we were flying was a
drastic under statement, but we were grateful either way.
Jacob decided to stop here and stretches legs while cat used
the toilets in side while we unloaded an eyeballed the area
another big black BMW came over Jacob started having words with
the driver in a language that we didn't speak before cat even
returned both hatches lifted Jacob and that stranger began on
loading duffle bags and suitcases from the car that we
were just in then loading them into the other BMW that had just
rolled up some kind of bait and switch.
The cars were literally identical even the drivers
looked similar. It was honestly kind of funny to
watch like a pair of cartoon characters.
As we unpacked our own stuff and slowly moved across the parking
lot. We watched as a nearby policeman
took interest in the pair of blacked out BMWs.
At first it just started out like a basic line of questioning
but within 10 minutes a whole Fleet of investigators descended
on the checks and their suspicious vehicles.
My wife and I watched in horror as the police exposed Jacob and
cat as drug runners or illegal Transporters of some kind.
I never saw what was in the bags, but by the sudden turn out
of law enforcement. I knew it had to be drugs or
guns getting taken over the border and we were just sitting
in the car with them had we pulled over specially with
Jacobs erratic driving we'd all be under arrest and God only
knows for how long until things got cleaned up.
Jacob was a godsend for us. But by the end the real fortune
was being able to step away before he went down in the
books. Our next lift came much faster
now that we were on real roadways with a friendly truck
driver pulling up not 30 minutes later.
He welcomed Us in and the cab actually smelled fresh and clean
with hints of herbs that he liked to cook in there.
My wife was run ragged by the road and she wore it all over
her face. The truck driver was kind enough
to let her sleep in the bunk in the back of the cab.
She did not hesitate to climb right in and promptly fall
asleep. That just left me in the trucker
and will call him Johan. He was I believe a German
citizen based on his looks and dialect but across the sprawling
border of Europe. It's hard to be sure of
anybody's heritage. We listen to music at first, but
he quickly grew bored and decided to talk with me instead.
We shared our basic pleasantries where we were from how he
started Trucking and why we were hitchhiking.
It was all of a very simple discussion and as we talked
Johan asked me some basic things about my wife as well, which I
answered not thinking much of it.
We rolled on to Munich and the driver explained to me that this
was all a very healthy hub for travelers going in any
direction. Getting to Austria would be what
he called Smooth Sailing. We'd easily find a ride within a
couple of hours. Finally this trip had turned
into everything. I wanted it to be.
He then explained he was headed in a different direction so he
could no longer help us. I thanked him a million times
over explained that he had literally saved our entire trip
and he was very fortunate to have the company.
Still I tipped him what I thought was a respectable sum of
cash. The least I could do except from
the driver's perspective. It really wasn't he rolled his
truck into a service station further explained that we could
possibly find a ride even without leaving the parking lot.
Lots of truckers would be going through Austria and would even
be able to help for free or for a decent price.
I slowly was getting my things together half listening all so
preparing to wake my wife. It wasn't until I turned my
focus on Johan for a minute that I noticed.
He unzipped his pants and began stroking himself.
I sat there completely stunned unsure of what I was seeing was
actually real he didn't even blink just continued to talk
casually looking at me and out the window.
I didn't bother asking clearly. This was part of what ever the
trucker had in place. I gather all of our bags and
shouted my wife's name to wake up.
It's time to leave. Johan became immediately
agitated saying he let her use the bed the least we could do
was stick around and break it in with him.
Honestly, I wasn't sure if he wanted to do it with me or my
wife or both of us. Maybe he just wanted to watch.
Whatever the case we were literally trapped inside the cab
of this man's truck as he continued to pleasure himself
and slowly undress. My wife popped up confused, but
alert simply followed me through the passenger door.
Johan never shouted. He didn't grab at us.
I guess he knew better. He knew we were already creating
a scene. He even kind of apologized
through the door as I closed it in his face turned my back on
his truck and hurried my wife to the trucking station.
There were all manner of what seemed like normal people to
create this buffer between ourselves and that creepy truck
driver. From there.
I guess it really was smooth sailing.
We reached our destination well before the deadline.
After that trip though, my wife and I swore off hitchhiking
forever. She still to this day doesn't
know how close we came to trouble in that cab.
She just knows something was about to happen.
It's my job to protect her just like it was that day.
Even if it's just from the strange ugly truths.
Back in the late summer of 2009. I was working on a tugboat that
was assisting in oil tanker off the coast of Louisiana.
There had been some storms and rough Seas.
So all though we weren't in any immediate danger.
Our tug had been helping to stabilize the tanker, which was
more vulnerable to the large waves.
I've always loved the water and I still do but on the morning of
August 17 as we were guiding that tanker along the coast
something put my love for the sea to the test in a big very
bad way. I was in the bathroom when it
happened probably the worst place you can be when you get
hit by a freak wave. I had been awake for maybe no
more than 10 to 15 minutes and then out of nowhere everything
got turned upside down. One second.
The toilet was on the floor and the next it was on the ceiling.
I tried to open the bathroom door, but all the lights
suddenly went out and I could hear the bathroom slowly filling
with water. I couldn't tell if it was blood
or sea water stinging my eyes and then I finally got the
bathroom door open. But I didn't have long to
celebrate at all because I felt this heavy thunk as the tugboat
touched down on the seabed at least 100 feet below the
surface. When we got the door open
everything was dark. Water was everywhere and I had
no idea which way I was facing. Our propeller was up.
Our wheelhouse was down and in the alley next to the watertight
door, which led to an exit hatch.
I saw two of my co-workers struggling with the hatch as the
water levels continue to rise. I panicked thinking we'd all
drown if we failed to get that door open.
So I did something completely against my instincts and dived
into the water to look for a different way to escape.
I don't imagine many of you have been in a shipwreck before.
But when your ship goes down like ours did and takes on a ton
of water it rushes through your ship in very odd patterns.
Imagine pouring a gallon of water into an ant farm and
watching how it reaches some tunnels faster than others and
creates little air pockets here and there.
Well, that's how I managed to get swept into a second
bathroom. This one attached to the second
engineer's cabin with the door having been swept.
Shut as I pulled it in it created one of those air
pockets. I had just mentioned.
At first the water continued to rise and I thought that I was
going to be trapped in there and drown but to my relief it didn't
feel the bathroom completely. It only filled up about a third
of the way and then just suddenly stopped.
Part of the reason it didn't fill up was because we routinely
kept all the cabin doors closed. We did this mainly as a security
precaution, but it also secured parts of the ship from flooding
and meant that I could cling to a wash basin in my own private
air bubble at the bottom of the Gulf.
As I stood there in the darkness.
I started to hear my coworkers screaming and yelling.
I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I figured that
they might have gotten the hatch open.
And so with that in mind I decided to do everything I could
to swim back to them. But when I tried to pry the
bathroom door open the door handles snapped off in my grip.
I remember feeling a panic rising up in me again one.
So intense I thought that I might lose my mind right there
and then but then suddenly it just stopped and I felt a
strange sense of calm wash over me everything that had happened
over the previous few minutes had been so chaotic and
terrifying but after that door handle snapped off in my hand.
It felt like I had control of the situation.
I knew where I was. I knew what I needed to do and I
had no choice but to solve the problem of opening the door.
It was that or Die Tryin. As crazy as it sounds to just
think it to myself all these years later that brought about
that strange sense of calm. It was just me in that bathroom
door. Whatever came next we could
cross that bridge once we came to it.
I remember spotting event and thinking that if I pulled off
the steel grill, I could probably use it as some kind of
tool. Luckily.
It was strong enough for me to use to force open the bathroom
door, but that wasn't an instant thing.
It took a lot of time and effort and during the attempt.
I heard the cries of my co-workers going silent one by
one. I thought they had escaped but
now I know different. Once I had the bathroom door
open, I was back in the second engineer's cabin.
I saw two life jackets each with a small flash light attached.
I put one in my mouth lodged the other in the elastic of my
underwear and then attempted to swim for the escape hatch
outside of the cabin. All the corridors were full of
water with no air pockets for me to use meaning every time I ran
out of breath. I had to stop trying to open the
hatch and swim back to my air pocket in the engineers cabin to
take a breath The first time I swam back I almost missed the
door to the engineers cabin. It was dark all the doors looked
the same and I knew that if I got lost or confused, I'd most
likely drowned. I later found out the exact same
thing happened to a co-worker who drowned in the mess room
after confusing it for someplace with an air pocket.
To stop myself from getting turned around I tore off some
fabric from one of the engineers coveralls tied it into a rope
and then attached one end to the door of the cabin so I could use
it to guide myself back whenever I ran out of breath.
I tried again and again, but still the hatch wouldn't budge
and I eventually decided that I should save my strength.
Stay in my little air pocket and rethink my attempts to escape.
I had to just stay put stay calm and think.
And I'm not kidding when I say hours went by I ate 10 sardine
and drank can soda just to keep my energy levels up, but I had
to keep my legs out of the water.
I knew I had scraped my leg during one of my Escape
attempts. And at first I thought the
stinging was just the saltwater getting into the wounds, but I
quickly realized it wasn't just the saltwater.
It was little crayfish swimming up to pick at the peeling skin
around the womb. I also thought the water level
would remain stable, but after a while I realized it was slowly
rising from how it seemed to be creeping up the wall.
And that's about the time. I just accepted that I was going
to die. I kept thinking about my family
and it brought me a strange sense of peace knowing that
they'd be there to carry on without me.
Sure, it had hurt some. My kids would grow up without
their father, but they'd no doubt get a big payout from the
company and then on top of my life insurance, they might just
get a big enough check to keep them comfy for the rest of their
lives. I imagine.
And thinking those kinds of thoughts was all I could do to
comfort myself and I remember just sitting there trying to
conserve whatever oxygen I had left in total silence.
Just waiting around to die. Then suddenly the silence was
broken by the sudden sound of metal on metal.
It was like a hard clunk. And all though I couldn't see
what was going on outside the boat.
I knew that there was a good chance.
Someone was out there someone that might be able to hear me.
I didn't scream or yell as that would have burned valuable
oxygen instead. I started to hammer my fist
against the bulkhead hoping whoever was out there would
recognize that someone was alive inside the tub.
Minutes later. I saw a light through one of the
portholes and realized that there must have been divers
swimming around outside. I took a deep breath and then
dived back into the water. My goal was to find a porthole
through which I could see the divers.
So I went room to room prying open doors then heading back to
the air pocket for another gulp of oxygen then back.
I went repeating the process over and over until finally I
caught sight of the divers outside.
I remember pushing my hand up against the safety glass and one
of the divers later said he just thought it was another body at
first, but when I started trying to bang on the glass they
realized I was alive. I wasn't taken straight to the
surface. You'd think that that might have
caused more emotional turmoil than it did and after being
trapped in a wreck like that. Most would want to return
straight to the surface, but you can't do that.
The sudden change in pressure might actually kill you.
So I spent a real long time at a diving bell sucking air from a
spare oxygen tank before I was allowed to resurface.
The divers told me I'd been down there for almost 14 hours.
I don't even think it felt like three.
I guess my sense of time was disoriented but resurfacing to
the night sky instead of daylight made it feel like I
timed traveled or something. A bunch of Medics checked my
vitals to ensure my temperature and blood pressure were okay,
and then they advised that I go visit a hospital.
But all I wanted to do was get home to my wife and kids.
So although I wouldn't advise anyone to ignore medical advice
like that. I went straight home and gave
them all the biggest hugs of their lives.
I had some real bad dreams for a long time afterward.
Sometimes I feel like my bed was sinking and I'd wake up with
sweat soaked bed sheets, which I guess prolonged the process of
realizing. It was just a nightmare.
Other times I dreamed that water was rushing in via my bedroom
windows and that my wife was unconscious.
I'd pick her up carry her to the door, but it wouldn't open and
the water would just keep rising and Rising until I woke up.
Some friends suggested that we just take a vacation someplace
really landlocked, you know, and that helped a whole lot.
I stayed away from the pool for a whole week and a half though
until I finally force myself to face my fears.
I guess the context of that vacation helped knowing that I
was safe. And like I said at the start,
I've always loved the water. When I was 14 years old my
family and I went on a boating trip out of Melbourne's West
Western Port Bay. I remember being at the helm
with my father steering the little boat over the waves.
Then the next thing we knew my big brother was shouting that
water was coming in. It all happened so fast mom and
dad were shouting for us to stay together.
Then suddenly the boat tipped over and we were in the water.
We later found out that the bottom of our boat had been
almost completely rotten and its owners had been extremely and
willfully negligent and renting it to us.
We had no choice but to start swimming.
Since it was late in the evening, no one had seen us go
down. So it was up to us to rescue
ourselves. I was a reasonably good swimmer
and we all had life jackets on but it was still around two
miles back to shore. So Lan looked like it was a long
long way away. Darkness fell as we were
swimming, but my dad started to struggle and my big brother swam
back to try and help him. My mom and I stuck together and
kept going but we soon lost sight of my father and brother.
Seagulls cried out of me and I kept imagining that they were
warning me of an attack from sharks that were no doubt
swimming in the waters around us.
I could see land but it didn't seem to get any closer.
Finally after more than three hours in that water.
I felt the Sandy Bottom against my feet.
I'd reached the mud flats of what I believed was the mainland
but my mom dad and brother were nowhere to be seen.
I was weak cold and exhausted. I dragged myself through the mud
which at some points was almost up to my waist.
And this was even more terrifying than the swimming.
The mud kept sucking me down and I was terrified that I'd sink
and be suffocated my muscles ache my lungs burned and I felt
like I was about to pass out at points.
But at the same time I knew the Clock Was ticking it was
essentially down to me and me alone to get help for my family.
When I finally made it ashore, I realized that I was on French
island and Ireland with an old disused prison on it that has
only about 50 residents. I ran through the Bushland using
up the last reserve's of my energy feeling Thorns scratching
against my legs and arms. I ran for a long time stopping
every so often to catch my breath before continuing through
the bush. Finally, I found a house and
after banging on the door, someone opened it.
I told them what had happened. I just remember crying and
crying as they tried to comfort me and how I begged them to help
find my family. They told me everything was
going to be okay and that they'd contacted the Victoria Coast
Guard. I appreciate that.
They were just trying to console me, but I knew they were wrong.
The next morning the bodies of my mom dad and older brother
were recovered from the water off the coast of Fairhaven.
Words cannot express how devastated I was and I was
filled with this overwhelming survivor's guilt thinking that I
should be the one dead. For five long years.
I was erect and I think I might be dead from drinking drugs if
it wasn't for the birth of my first child.
For a long long time I avoided any kind of large body of water
which included swimming pools before my therapist suggested
that I undertake some exposure therapy.
This would involve brief trips to a local pool.
But at first my anxiety was so bad that even if my head was
above the water. I just couldn't breathe.
I tried for four months, but nothing worked until a local
swim coach heard my story and offered some help then over the
next year or so the therapy started to chip away at my fear
until finally I was able to look at the sea without feeling like
I was about to have a panic attack.
My proudest moments have been taking part in a charity swim
across the rip, which is an infamously rough stretch of
water. We helped raise money for a
domestic violence charity here in Australia, which is a cause
very close to my heart for reasons that could well make for
another true scary story. It might have taken me 20 years,
but I no longer let my fear control me.
I Now understand that what happened wasn't my fault but the
irony of needing water to heal the very trauma that it created
as never been lost on me.