I had done this 100 times before.
Searching for missing campers was part of my job as a park
Ranger and honestly, it usually ended with someone just lost or
confused, but this time felt different from the start.
My name is Ethan Harper, and I've been a Ranger at Eagles
Shadow National Park for over 10 years.
The place is vast miles of dense forest, winding rivers and
jagged cliffs. It's beautiful, sure, but
unforgiving if you don't know your way.
Daniel Klein, the missing camper, had been out there for
three days now. He hadn't left a single trace
behind, which was strange. Most of the time, lost hikers
left footprints, scraps of food wrappers, or at least a trail of
some sort. But not Daniel.
It was as if he had just disappeared.
My team for this mission was small but solid.
There was Sarah Morales, my second in command and one of the
best Rangers I knew. Calm under pressure, smart, and
someone I could always count on. Then there was Doctor Greg
Owens, the park's biologist. He wasn't much of A hiker, but
he knew the wilderness like the back of his hand.
Jake Donnelly and Mia Caldwell rounded out the team, two
younger Rangers, both eager but pretty green.
I wasn't thrilled about taking rookies this deep into the
forest, but I didn't have a choice.
We set out in the late afternoon, the sun casting long
shadows through the towering Pines.
As we hiked deeper into the Whispering Pines section of the
park, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
It wasn't just the thick, almost suffocating silence that
blanketed the area. It was more than that, an
unspoken tension that hung in the air like the forest itself
was watching us. Ethan, look at this.
Sarah called out, breaking the silence.
I turned to see her crouching over some animal tracks.
But there was something wrong with them.
They let a few feet into the underbrush, and then nothing.
The Prince just stopped, as if whatever made them had been
lifted straight into the air. That's not possible.
Greg muttered, scratching his head.
He bent down to examine the tracks more closely, but even he
didn't have an answer. No predator out here could do
that. It doesn't make sense.
We pressed on, though the unease was starting to settle in my
gut. The deeper we ventured into the
forest, the quieter it became. No birds, no rustling leaves,
not even the wind. Just silence.
And that silence felt wrong. The first real scare came when
Jake froze in his tracks. Did you hear that?
He whispered, his voice barely audible.
Hear what? I asked, scanning the trees
around us. Everything looked normal, but I
couldn't shake the feeling that we weren't alone.
A cry, it sounded like. Like someone calling for help.
Jake said, his face pale, but it didn't sound right.
Probably just the wind. I said, trying to keep things
calm. But inside I knew something
wasn't right. The wind hadn't made a sound all
day. We finally reached Daniel's
campsite just before the sun dipped below the horizon.
His tent was still there, untouched, and his supplies were
all in order. It didn't make any sense.
If Daniel had left, he hadn't taken anything with him.
His backpack, his food, even his water bottle.
Everything was still in place. Why would he leave without his
gear? Mia asked, her voice trembling
slightly. I didn't have an answer for her.
None of this added up. People don't just vanish without
a trace. We'll set up camp here for the
night. I said, though I didn't like the
idea of staying in this place any more than they did.
We'll keep searching in the morning.
As we began to settle in, the light faded and the forest
seemed to change around us. The shadows grew longer, darker,
as if they were creeping closer to our camp.
Sarah sat by the fire, staring out into the trees.
She suddenly stood up, her eyes wide.
I saw something, She said, her voice shaky.
Out there, a figure. It was watching us.
I grabbed my flashlight and swept it across the tree line.
Nothing. Just endless trees stretching
into the darkness. Maybe it's Daniel?
Jake suggested, though he didn't sound too sure.
Or maybe it's something else. Mia whispered, barely loud
enough to hear. The air had grown colder, the
fire flickering weakly against the increasing chill.
That's when we heard it. The first howl.
It started, low and distant like the wind, but then it grew.
It was a deep, guttural wail, almost human, but warped and
wrong. It echoed through the trees,
sending shivers down my spine. Stay close.
I ordered, gripping my flashlight tighter.
But deep down, I wasn't sure staying close was going to be
enough. This wasn't just a search
anymore. Something was out there with us,
and whatever it was, it wasn't human.
I didn't sleep much that night. None of us did.
That strange howl echoed through the trees for hours, low and
haunting, like something was calling out to us.
We huddled by the fire, trying to convince ourselves it was
just an animal, maybe a wolf or a coyote, but deep down, I think
we all knew better. By morning, the fire had burned
down to embers, and the forest was eerily quiet again.
Too quiet. No birds, no rustling leaves,
nothing. The kind of silence that made
your skin crawl. I glanced at Sarah, who was
rubbing her arms, her eyes darting to the tree line every
few seconds. We should keep moving.
She said, her voice low. I don't like staying here.
I nodded in agreement. The sooner we found Daniel, the
better. The campsite had given us no
answers, only more questions. Why would he leave his gear?
Where did he go, and what was that awful sound we kept
hearing? Jake, looking more pale than
usual, kicked dirt over the fire to put it out.
What do you think it was last night?
He asked, trying to sound casual, but the edge in his
voice gave him away. Just the wind.
I lied, but Jake didn't look convinced.
Neither was I. As we packed up, Greg tapped me
on the shoulder. Look at this.
He said, pointing to the trees surrounding our campsite.
I followed his gaze and my stomach dropped deep claw marks
gouged the bark, long and jagged.
They weren't there when we arrived last night.
That, that doesn't look like anything I've seen before.
Greg said, his voice shaking. A little too big for any animal
around here. I swallowed hard, trying to stay
calm. Let's not jump to conclusions.
Could have been a bear. But even as I said it, I knew
that didn't make sense. Bears don't come this far into
the forest, and these marks were way too big, too deep.
We set off again, moving deeper into the whispering Pines.
But the deeper we went, the more the forest seemed to close in on
us. The trees here were taller,
there are thick branches creating a canopy that blocked
out most of the sunlight. Everything was dim, shadowy,
like the woods were swallowing us whole.
Hours passed, but we hadn't found a single clue about
Daniel's whereabouts. Just more silence.
And then, out of nowhere, Jake stopped dead in his tracks.
Did you hear that? He whispered, looking around
wildly. I frowned.
Hear what? Someone, someone calling for
help. He said, his face pale.
It sounded like Daniel. We all stopped listening, but I
couldn't hear anything. Jake, Are you sure?
I asked, even though I knew the answer.
I swear, Ethan, I heard him, he was calling my name.
Jake insisted, his hands trembling.
It was Daniel's voice. I know it.
I exchanged a glance with Sarah. Something wasn't right.
Jake was jumpy, too jumpy, and it was starting to get to the
others. Maybe you're just hearing
things, Jake. I said gently, though I wasn't
sure I believed it. We're all tired.
Jake shook his head furiously. No, I heard him, he's out there,
let's keep moving. Sarah said, her voice tense.
Standing around here isn't going to help.
Reluctantly, Jake fell in line, but I could tell he was still on
edge, glancing over his shoulder every few minutes like he was
expecting something or someone to jump out of the shadows.
As we trekked further into the forest, the trees grew thicker,
darker. The air felt heavy, like it was
pressing down on us. I could feel the tension rising
in the group, every crack of a branch or rustle of leaves
making us all jump. I tried to stay focused, but the
forest seemed to twist and turn in ways that didn't make sense.
It was like we were being LED in circles.
And then, just as I was starting to think we'd never find our way
out, Jake gasped and pointed ahead.
There, do you see him? We all looked, but I didn't see
anything at first. Just trees, shadows and the dim
light filtering through the branches.
But then there was a figure far off, just barely visible between
the trees. Daniel.
I called out, taking a step forward.
The figure didn't move, it just stood there, still and silent.
I took another step, but Sarah grabbed my arm.
Ethan, wait, something's wrong. She was right.
The figure, it wasn't acting like a person.
Its posture was off, twisted in a way that made my stomach turn.
And its eyes, they were black, completely black.
No whites, no pupils, just empty, soulless darkness.
My blood ran cold. Jake, stay back.
I warned, but Jake wasn't listening.
He was already moving toward the figure calling Daniel's name.
Jake, stop. I shouted, grabbing his arm and
pulling him back. The figure didn't move, it just
stood there, watching us, its dark eyes locked onto mine.
Then, in an instant, it vanished, disappearing into the
trees like it had never been there.
What the hell was that? Greg whispered, his face pale.
I didn't have an answer. All I knew was that we needed to
get out of this forest, and fast.
Something was out there, something that wasn't Daniel,
and it was watching us. We didn't talk much after that,
not even Jake, who had been rattling on all day about seeing
Daniel. Now he just walked in silence,
his eyes darting from tree to tree like he was expecting
something to jump out at him. And honestly, I couldn't blame
him. I had seen it too, that twisted
figure with its black, soulless eyes.
The sun was starting to set again, and the shadows in the
forest stretched longer, darker, until they seemed to blur
together. We needed to make camp soon, but
I couldn't shake the feeling that stopping would be a
mistake. Every instinct I had was
screaming at me to keep moving, to get out of this cursed place
as fast as possible. But the others were exhausted,
and the deeper we went into the Whispering Pines, the more it
felt like we were going in circles.
We need to stop. Sarah said, her voice strained.
We can't keep going in the dark. I wanted to argue, but she was
right. We were all worn out, and
continuing blindly through the night would only make things
worse. So we found a small clearing and
set up camp. I made sure the fire was big,
bigger than usual. Something about the light made
me feel safer, even if it was just an illusion.
As we sat around the fire, the silence felt heavier than ever.
Jake hadn't said a word since we saw that thing in the trees.
Gregg was scribbling notes in his journal, though I couldn't
imagine what he thought he was going to explain.
And Sarah? She just stared into the flames,
her face pale and drawn. What do you think it was?
Mia finally asked, breaking the tension.
I didn't want to answer, but I knew I had to.
I don't know. I said honestly.
But it wasn't Daniel. Jake shifted uncomfortably.
It looked like him though, didn't it?
I shook my head. It might have looked like him,
but that wasn't human. No way.
Gregg cleared his throat, looking up from his notes.
There are stories, legends about creatures in the forest, things
that can mimic humans. Skinwalkers.
I think they're called skinwalkers?
Mia asked, her voice trembling. Like from those old Navajo
stories? Greg nodded.
They can take the form of people, animals, whatever they
want. It's said they use voices to
lure people in. That's just a myth.
Sarah cut in, her tone. Sharp stories to scare kids
around the campfire, maybe? Greg said.
But what we saw out there, it fits the description.
Before we could debate it further, a voice broke through
the silence. Help, help me.
We all froze. It was a woman's voice calling
out from the trees, and not just any voice, Mia's voice.
We turned to Mia, who sat with us by the fire, her face
draining of all color. That's, that's my voice.
She whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
The voice called out again, sounding even closer this time.
Please help me, I'm lost. I stood up, heart pounding in my
chest. Stay close to the fire.
I warned the others. It's trying to trick us, but it
sounds so real. Mia whispered, her hands
shaking. How can it sound exactly like
me? I don't know.
I admitted. But we're not going anywhere.
The voice continued, now circling our camp, calling for
help in Mia's voice, each time more desperate than the last.
But we stayed put, huddled by the fire, refusing to be lured
into the dark. And then, without warning, the
voice stopped. The silence that followed was
even worse. For a few minutes, no one moved,
no one spoke. We just sat there, listening to
the crackling fire in the eerie quiet of the forest.
And then, out of nowhere, Mia screamed.
We all turned to see her being dragged away into the darkness,
her legs kicking wildly, her hands clawing at the ground.
Her scream echoed through the trees.
And then, just like that, it was replaced by an awful, twisted
version of her own voice calling back to us.
Help, help me, I'm lost. I grabbed a flashlight and ran
toward where Mia had been dragged, but there was nothing,
no sign of her, just more of that horrible silence and the
sound of her voice. No, the creature's voice calling
out from deeper in the forest. It's playing with us.
Sarah whispered, her face pale. It's taking US1 by 1.
I felt panic rising in my chest, but I pushed it down.
We need to get to the old Watchtower.
I said, my voice firm. If there's any chance of getting
help, that's our best shot. Greg looked doubtful.
What makes you think will make it?
We don't have a choice. I snapped, trying to keep
control of the situation. It's either that, or we sit here
and wait for it to come back. Sarah nodded, standing up.
Ethan's right, we need to move. We packed up quickly, the fire
still burning behind us as we plunged back into the darkness
of the forest. The creature's voice followed us
the entire way, calling our names and familiar voices always
just out of sight. But no matter how fast we moved,
I could feel it closing in. We were being hunted, and I had
no idea how we were going to survive.
We made it to the old watchtower just as the last light of the
day faded behind the mountains. The wooden structure loomed
above us, tall and weathered, with broken windows and a door
that hung crooked on its hinges. It wasn't much, but it was our
only chance. I wasn't even sure if the radio
inside still worked, but right now it was better than being out
in the open with that thing stalking us.
Get inside quick. I ordered, pushing Jake and
Sarah through the door. I glanced over my shoulder, half
expecting to see the creature right behind us, but the forest
was eerily still. That was the worst part, the
waiting. It was toying with us, and we
all knew it. We barricaded the door with an
old wooden beam, then piled up whatever we could find, broken
chairs, an old desk, anything that might slow it down.
Sarah rushed to check the radio, but from the look on her face, I
could tell it wasn't good. It's dead.
She muttered, kicking the useless machine in frustration.
No power, no signal. We're trapped.
Jake sat down in the corner, his hands shaking.
We're not going to make it, are we?
We will. I said, though I wasn't sure if
I believed it. We just need to hold out until
morning. But even as I said the words,
the whispering began. At first it was faint, like wind
slipping through the cracks in the walls, but then it grew
louder, more distinct voices, familiar voices.
Ethan. It was Mia's voice, soft and
pleading, coming from just outside the door.
Ethan, please help me. My heart raced.
I knew it wasn't really her, but hearing her voice so close, so
desperate, made it hard to think straight.
The others heard it too. Jake's eyes were wide with fear,
and even Sarah looked shaken. It's not real.
Sarah said firmly, as if trying to convince herself It's just
the creature trying to trick us. But the voices didn't stop.
Now Gregg was calling out, his voice sounding broken and
pained. Ethan, help me, it's too dark.
I gripped the flashlight tighter, my knuckles white.
The whispers circled the tower, growing louder, more insistent.
And then something began scratching at the door.
Slow, deliberate scrapes, like claws dragging along the wood.
It's here, Jake whispered, his face pale.
He was shaking uncontrollably now, curled up in the corner,
rocking back and forth. It's here, stay calm, I told
him, though my own heart was pounding so hard I could barely
hear myself think. It can't get in, not with the
door barricaded. But the scratching grew louder.
It sounded like nails raking across the wood.
And then the voices began again, this time in Sarah's voice.
Ethan let me in. I shot a glance at Sarah, who
was standing by the window, her eyes wide with terror.
That's, that's my voice. She whispered, backing away from
the wall. The creature was taunting us,
using our own voices against us, and the fear in the room was
rising by the second. Jake was nearly hysterical and
even Sarah, who had always been the strongest, was starting to
crumble. We can't stay here.
I said finally, my voice tight with panic.
It's only a matter of time before it gets in.
How? Sarah demanded, her voice
trembling. We can't outrun it.
We can't fight it. I didn't have an answer, but I
knew we had to do something. Sitting here, waiting for the
creature to breakthrough was suicide.
Then an idea hit me. It was desperate, but it might
just work. Distract it, I said, suddenly,
looking at Sarah. I'll distract it, Draw it away
from the door while you and Jake make a run for it.
No way, Sarah protested. You're not going out there
alone. I have to, I said firmly.
It's the only way. If I can draw it far enough
away, you might be able to slip past it and make it to the
Ranger station. There's another radio there.
If it still works, you can call for help.
Sarah looked torn, but she nodded.
OK, she said softly. But you come back.
Promise me I'll try, I said, though I knew it was a promise I
might not be able to keep. With one last deep breath, I
unblocked the door, the scratching growing louder.
The moment I touched the beam, the voices stopped, replaced by
a low, guttural growl from the other side.
It was waiting for me. I threw the door open and
sprinted into the night. The cold air hit me like a slap,
but I didn't stop. I could hear the creature behind
me, its footsteps fast and heavy, chasing me through the
trees, but I didn't look back. I couldn't.
Come on. I yelled, my voice hoarse.
You want me here? I am.
I heard a snarl, close now, too close.
My legs burned, but I pushed harder, darting between the
trees, trying to lead it away from the watchtower.
Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw it.
A figure running alongside me. It was the creature, its body
shifting, its face twisting until it looked just like me.
For the first time in my life, I felt true terror.
It was wearing my face. And then it lunged.
The sun was just starting to dip behind the mountains when the
call came through. It was the kind of light that
turns the trees into long, jagged shadows, casting an
orange hue over everything, making the forest look both
beautiful and a little sinister at the same time.
I was standing on the porch of the Ranger station, my back sore
from another day in the field, thinking about nothing in
particular. Then the radio crackled to life.
Ian, you there? It was Kyle, the new guy, fresh
as they come, but eager. He was stationed up near the old
fire watchtower, abandoned for years now since the budget cuts.
I raised the radio to my mouth. Go ahead, Kyle.
There was a pause, too long. A crackle of static filled the
silence, and then I heard it, the sound of his breathing, fast
and uneven. Fear, I I think something's out
here, he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
What are you talking about? I asked, a knot of unease
forming in my gut. Is it a bear?
No, no, not a bear. Something else.
Something's not right. The knot tightened.
Stay calm, Kyle. Where are you exactly?
By the watchtower near the north Ridge.
I I thought I saw something in the trees.
The radio cut out, and what came next made my blood run cold.
A sound low and guttural, like an animal, but not quite.
It was a sound that didn't belong to anything I knew in
these woods. The radio crackled once more, a
blood curdling scream, and then nothing.
Silence. I stood there for a moment,
frozen, my hand gripping the radio so tight my knuckles were
white. The air around me seemed to
still, thick with something I couldn't name.
I could feel the others inside the station, staring at me,
waiting. Jess was the first to speak, her
voice cutting through the heavy quiet.
What the hell was that? She asked, stepping outside.
Jess was our tracker, a seasoned Ranger who could find anything
or anyone in these woods, but even she looked rattled.
I lowered the radio slowly, my mind already racing.
Kyle's in trouble. He's by the old fire watchtower.
We need to go now. James, the biologist, came to
the door next. He leaned against the frame,
arms crossed, that permanent skeptical expression on his
face. You really think it's something
dangerous? Could be just a Mountain Lion,
maybe even a wolf. Nothing to panic about.
But I'd heard panic in Kyle's voice.
Whatever was out there, it wasn't a Mountain Lion.
I could feel it in my bones. I don't know what it is, but
we're not leaving him out there alone.
I said, my voice firmer than I felt.
I looked to Trevor, the youngest of the group, fresh out of
training. His face was pale and he shifted
nervously from foot to foot. He didn't want to go, hell, I
didn't want to go either, but leaving Kyle out there was not
an option. We leave in five.
I said, already moving to grab my gear.
My heart was pounding in my chest, but I kept my face calm.
We had a job to do, and if I let fear get the better of me, we'd
all be in trouble. As we headed out, the sky
darkened into twilight, the forest around us sinking into
that thick, oppressive silence. It wasn't normal.
Even the birds had gone quiet. We moved quickly, the crunch of
leaves under our boots the only sound, but something felt off.
The usual life of the woods was absent.
No rustling in the underbrush, no distant howls, just nothing.
Jess walked ahead, her eyes scanning the ground, tracking
Kyle's path. She didn't say much, but I could
tell she was on edge, her movements a little too tense.
James kept muttering under his breath, more to himself than
anyone else, and Trevor stayed close, his head on a constant
swivel, wide eyed like a deer caught in headlights.
As we approached the old fire watchtower, I noticed the way
the trees seemed to close in around us, casting long, crooked
shadows that made it feel like we were being watched.
The tower stood like a ghost against the sky, a dark
silhouette looming over the forest.
And then I saw it. Kyle's pack, lying at the base
of the tower, but no sign of Kyle.
My heart sank, Something wasn't right.
I knelt next to the pack, scanning the area for any sign
of a struggle. Nothing.
The air was heavy, thick with attention I couldn't explain.
I looked up at the watchtower, its rusted frame creaked in the
wind, but otherwise it was silent, Too silent.
Well, split up. I said, my voice low.
Jess, check the tree line. James, look around the base.
Trevor, stay with me. But as the words left my mouth,
a new sound cut through the air, a voice, faint but clear.
Ian, help. It was Kyle, but something in
the tone wasn't right. The forest had swallowed us
whole, the fading light from the sky barely piercing through the
thick canopy overhead. It was just shadows now, dark
tangled branches and trunks stretching into the dusk.
The deeper we went, the quieter it became, like the woods were
holding their breath. Every step felt like an
intrusion, like we weren't supposed to be here.
We'd been walking for about an hour, but it felt longer.
Jess, as usual, was ahead, eyes fixed on the ground, picking up
signs that none of the rest of us could see.
I kept glancing around, uneasy, the weight of Kyle's last
transmission gnawing at me. The guy had been spooked,
seriously spooked, and now we were heading straight into
whatever had caused it. James, always the skeptic,
pushed through the brush behind me, breathing hard.
He wasn't exactly built for long treks in the wilderness.
This is getting ridiculous, Ian, he muttered.
You're seriously telling me you believe in this, whatever it is?
Skinwalkers. Supernatural nonsense.
You know what's more likely? Kyle got scared by a bear or a
wolf and he's hiding somewhere. I didn't answer right away, just
kept moving. I wanted to believe that too,
but that sound over the radio, whatever it had been, was still
in my head, curling around my thoughts like a snake.
It wasn't something I'd heard before, and I'd spent my life in
these woods. James.
I said after a long pause. I don't know what I believe, but
something scared him, and we need to find out what.
Ahead, Jess had stopped. She was crouched low, studying
something on the ground. Trevor and I moved toward her,
James huffing as he caught up. What is it?
I asked. She pointed silently.
There, caught on a low branch, was a strip of fabric, green
like the Ranger uniforms we all wore.
It was torn, ragged at the edges, and stained with
something dark. My stomach twisted.
Kyles. Trevor asked, his voice barely
more than a whisper. Jess nodded, her face grim.
She stood, brushing dirt off her knees.
His trail goes further into the trees, but I'm not liking what
I'm seeing. I knew what she meant.
We'd all noticed it. Claw marks gouged deep into the
trunks of the surrounding trees. Whatever had left them was big.
They were too high up to be from a bear, too wide to be a
Mountain Lion. I ran my fingers over one of the
marks, trying to picture what kind of creature could have done
this. Nothing I could think of
matched. What the hell made those?
Trevor asked, taking a step back.
His eyes darted around, scanning the shadows like something might
leap out at us. Nothing good.
Jess answered flatly. We need to move fast.
She was right. The woods were starting to feel
alive, like something was watching us.
My instincts were screaming at me to turn around, to head back
to the Ranger station and wait until daylight, but Kyle was
still out here, and I couldn't leave him behind.
We pushed forward, following Jess as she tracked deeper into
the forest. The air felt thick, almost
suffocating, and the usual sounds of the woods, birds,
insects, the rustle of animals in the brush were completely
absent. It was like the whole forest had
gone still, waiting for something to happen.
Look. Jess said quietly, pointing
ahead. I followed her gaze and saw it.
A cabin, barely visible through the trees.
The roof sagged and the walls were worn, but it was still
standing. That's Noka's place, I said.
The old man lived way out here, keeping mostly to himself.
I hadn't seen him in years. He was a Native American shaman,
or so the rumors went. People said he knew things about
the forest, things most of us didn't want to know.
As we approached, the door creaked open and Noka stepped
out, his weathered face unreadable.
He didn't seem surprised to see us.
Ian. He greeted me, his voice rough
as gravel. You've come looking for your
young friend? I nodded.
Kyle, he's gone missing near the old fire watchtower.
Noka's dark eyes flick to the others, then back to me.
You shouldn't be here. He said simply.
I waited, but he didn't elaborate.
Frustration bubbled up inside me.
What do you mean? You know something, don't you?
He nodded slowly, his gaze drifting toward the tree line.
There's something old in these woods, something that doesn't
belong to this world. It hunts under the moon, takes
many shapes. Your young friend.
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
He's not lost, he's been taken. James scoffed, shaking his head.
You can't be serious. But I was serious.
Noka's words sent a chill down my spine, like ice water flowing
through my veins. Taken by what?
The Watchtower was built on land that wasn't meant for men.
Noka continued, his voice low and heavy with meaning.
It's a place of power, but also of danger, and now you're
walking right into its grasp. Jess shifted beside me, her jaw
tight. We need to find Kyle.
Noka met her gaze. If you go further, you'll find
more than your friend, and you may not like what you see.
I glanced back at the forest. The trees seemed to press
closer, the shadows deeper. Something was out there,
waiting. The sun disappeared faster than
I'd expected, swallowed up by the thick tangle of trees that
closed in around us. The darkness didn't creep in.
It fell hard, like a curtain dropping after a show.
One minute there was a faint glow in the distance, the next,
nothing. Just shadows and the faint
rustling of wind through the treetops.
But even the wind felt wrong too.
Still too quiet. Jess was the first to suggest we
set up camp, but we all knew it was more out of necessity than
comfort. Our pace had slowed, tension
growing with each step, and we hadn't seen a trace of Kyle for
hours. Just his pack, some torn fabric,
and those claw marks on the trees.
Whatever was out here, it wasn't going to let us find him easily.
We cleared a small patch of ground just off the path, far
enough from the thickest of the trees but close enough to feel
trapped. I could see it in their faces.
Jess, James, Trevor, they were all trying to act like
everything was under control, like this was just another night
out in the wilderness, but none of us believed it.
Fire, Jess said quietly, gathering dry branches.
It'll keep the animals away. But we all knew it wasn't
animals we were worried about any more.
James didn't say much, which was unusual for him.
Normally he'd be full of explanations, trying to make
sense of everything with his wildlife biology degree,
dismissing anything he couldn't explain with logic and facts.
But not now. The look on his face told me he
wasn't sure of anything anymore. Trevor was the worst off.
He sat hunched over near the fire, hugging his knees like a
scared kid, eyes darting to every rustle, every crack of a
twig. In the darkness, I could hear
his breath quickening, feel the tension rising in him like a
coiled spring ready to snap. We're fine, I said, more to
convince myself than anyone else.
We've been through worse, right? But no one answered.
The fire flickered weakly, throwing twisted shadows against
the trees. The woods seemed to move around
us, closing in just out of reach of the light.
That oppressive silence, so thick you could feel it pressing
down on your chest, lingered, and I couldn't shake the sense
that we weren't alone. We sat there, staring into the
flames, pretending it was enough to keep the darkness at Bay.
But then, without warning, a sound cut through the stillness.
A voice. Help, please.
Kyle's voice. Trevor shot up from his spot,
eyes wide. Kyle.
He yelled, taking a step toward the trees.
Wait. I grabbed his arm, yanking him
back. He looked at me, confused and
desperate, but I kept my grip firm.
There was something off about that voice, something not quite
right. It was too faint, too distant,
like it wasn't coming from anywhere at all, just hanging in
the air around us. And then, just as quickly as it
had come, it was gone, swallowed up by the woods.
That wasn't him. Jess said softly, eyes scanning
the dark tree line. It sounded like him, but it
wasn't. Trevor stared at her, shaking
his head. You don't know that he could be
out there, hurt, scared. We can't just leave him.
We're not leaving him. I said.
But running off into the dark isn't going to help either.
We stick together. If that was Kyle, we'll find
him. But that?
I gestured toward the trees. That didn't feel right.
I could see Trevor's resolve cracking.
His mouth opened like he wanted to argue, but no words came out.
Instead, he just nodded, eyes still darting nervously toward
the trees. We all stayed close to the fire
after that, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
I kept listening for that voice, but it didn't come again.
Instead, there were other sounds, Quiet, almost
imperceptible at first, a snapping branch, the shuffle of
something moving through the underbrush.
Jess stiffened beside me, her hand instinctively going to the
hunting knife on her belt. Then came the growl, low,
guttural, like something big and dangerous just beyond the circle
of firelight. The hair on the back of my neck
stood on end, and I felt a cold sweat break out across my skin.
James, who had been staring into the flames, looked up, his face
pale. What the hell was that?
He whispered, eyes wide. We all stood, weapons ready,
scanning the darkness. The growl came again, closer
this time. I could feel it reverberate in
my chest, a deep rumbling that shook the ground beneath us.
My heart pounded, adrenaline flooding my veins, every
instinct screaming at me to run. But there was nowhere to go.
Suddenly, the growl stopped, replaced by a sickening silence.
We waited, tense, expecting something to leap out of the
shadows, but instead it was Trevor who broke the stillness.
I. His voice cracked, barely
audible. I turned toward him just in time
to see his wide, terrified eyes before he disappeared into the
darkness. Gone.
Just like that. His radio hit the ground with a
soft thud, the only thing left of him.
Then it crackled to life, and through the static came Trevor's
voice. Help.
I'm here. But it wasn't him.
The fire watchtower loomed over us like a forgotten monument,
barely visible in the gloom. Its rusted frame creaked in the
wind, a skeleton of what it once was.
We stumbled toward it, driven by pure instinct and fear, Trevor's
disappearance still fresh in our minds.
The ground felt like it was shifting under my feet, every
step heavier than the last, as though the forest itself didn't
want us to reach the tower. Jess was limping beside me, her
breath ragged and shallow. She twisted her ankle when we'd
run from the campsite after Trevor vanished, but she refused
to slow down. I could see the pain etched on
her face, but we both knew stopping wasn't an option, not
with whatever was out there stalking us.
James trailed behind, pale and silent, his disbelief finally
shattered by what we'd witnessed.
The thing in the forest wasn't an animal.
It wasn't something any of us had ever dealt with.
I glanced back at him, his eyes wide and wild, like a man on the
edge of losing it completely. You hanging in there, James?
He didn't answer at first, just kept moving, his breath coming
in shallow, panicked gasps. I don't, I don't know what's out
there, he muttered. I thought it was just maybe just
some predator, but this, it's not.
His voice cracked. It's real.
I said grimly. And it's coming.
We reached the base of the tower, and my hand instinctively
went to the ladder. I craned my neck, looking up.
The old wooden platform was barely visible in the dim light,
just a dark outline against the sky.
I didn't like the idea of going up there.
It felt like a trap, but staying on the ground wasn't an option
either. Up.
I said, pushing Jess ahead of me.
Let's move. One by one we climbed, the old
rungs creaking under our weight. My pulse pounded in my ears, my
senses screaming at me to keep moving, keep climbing.
Behind us, the forest was too quiet.
No more growling, no more rustling, just that suffocating
silence, like the whole world was holding its breath.
We reached the top and clambered onto the platform.
It swayed under our weight, groaning in protest, but it
held. The view from up here was
terrifying, nothing but blackness in every direction,
the forest stretching out like an endless ocean of trees.
And yet I felt exposed. The tower wasn't a sanctuary, it
was a perch, and whatever was out there could see us.
James crouched by the edge, gripping the railing with white
knuckles. We shouldn't have come here.
We shouldn't have. His voice was barely more than a
whisper, panic seeping into every word.
Get a grip, James. I snapped.
We didn't have a choice. Then I saw it.
The blood. It was smeared across the
floorboards, a dark, dried stain that trailed toward the corner.
My stomach lurched as I recognized the mark.
Kyle had been here. This was where it had taken him.
Ian just said, her voice low. We need to keep moving.
But before I could respond, there it was again.
A voice, faint and distant, floating up from below.
Ian, Jess, help me. Kyle, No, not Kyle, not anymore.
Don't listen to it. I said, louder than I meant to.
It's not him. But the voice kept coming,
closer, now, clearer. Please, Ian, help me.
I backed away from the edge, my hand tightening on the grip of
the rifle slung across my shoulder.
The thing in the woods was playing with us, using Kyle's
voice to lure us out, to break us down, and it was working.
I could see the fear in Jess's eyes, the way her hand trembled
as she gripped her knife. Then it happened.
An explosion of sound from below, branches snapping,
something large crashing through the underbrush.
It was circling the tower, moving faster than anything I'd
ever heard, but never showing itself.
It wanted us to know it was there, that we were trapped.
James stood suddenly, his face pale as a ghost.
I can hear him, he said, staring down at the trees.
He's down there. I, James.
No. I lunged for him, but it was too
late. He was already over the edge,
climbing down the ladder with a speed that came from pure
desperation. I grabbed Jess's arm, pulling
her back toward the center of the platform.
Don't look, we stay here. We waited out, but James's
descent was short lived. Halfway down the ladder, he
stopped, frozen, his body stiff as a board.
And then I saw them. Two glowing yellow eyes just
beyond the tree line, watching us.
They were too high up to belong to anything normal, too bright,
too wrong. James didn't scream.
He didn't make a sound as something pulled him into the
darkness, the sound of snapping branches and tearing flesh
filling the night. Jess clutched my arm, her breath
ragged. What do we do?
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding.
We wait. But even as I said it, I knew
there was no waiting. The thing had found us, and now
it was just a matter of time. Below us, the voice came again,
soft and pleading. Ian, please.
I closed my eyes, gripping my rifle tighter.
It was going to come for us next.
The forest was alive with the sound of something hunting us.
The Skinwalker circled below, unseen but unmistakably there,
its movements too fast, too erratic.
We could hear its growl reverberating through the trees,
a low, guttural sound that sent ice cold terror through my
veins. Every crack of a branch, every
rustle of leaves had me gripping the rifle tighter, but I knew a
gun wasn't going to stop whatever was down there.
Jess crouched beside me, her breath coming in shallow gasps.
Her face was pale, streaked with sweat and dirt.
Neither of us spoke, both listening to the sound of the
creature prowling below, waiting for it to make its move.
The fire watchtower swayed slightly under the pressure of
the wind, or maybe under the pressure of something worse,
something that didn't care whether or not we had high
ground. I don't think it's going to
stop. Jess whispered.
Her voice was raw, barely a thread of sound.
I swallowed hard. No, it won't.
It's playing with us. The creature was relentless.
Every few minutes it would let out a sound, sometimes like
Kyle's voice, sometimes like a deep, ragged breath, always
pulling at our nerves, making it impossible to think straight.
The rifle felt useless in my hands.
This wasn't a bear. This wasn't a wolf.
This was something older, darker, and it was feeding off
our fear. Suddenly, a loud thud echoed up
from below. Something had hit the tower
hard. The whole platform shuddered,
sending splinters flying up from the old rotten wood.
I grabbed Jess, pulling her back from the edge just as another
thud shook the entire structure. It's trying to knock the tower
down. Jess said, her voice barely
above a whisper, eyes wide with panic.
We can't stay up here. I said, scanning the surrounding
forest. The trees were just a blur of
black shadows, but the sense of being watched, of being haunted,
was overwhelming. We were running out of options.
If it brought the tower down, we'd be sitting ducks.
Another loud crash, and the tower groaned under the force.
I felt the platform shift beneath us.
My heart raced. If we didn't move, this thing
was going to tear the whole place apart.
We've got to make a run for it. I said, the words catching in my
throat. Now before it brings us down.
Jess nodded, though I could see the fear in her eyes.
She gripped her knife tighter, even though we both knew it
wouldn't do much against what waited for us in the trees.
I threw the rifle over my shoulder, slung low, and moved
toward the ladder. Stay close.
We run straight for Noka's cabin.
If we can make it to his land, maybe, maybe it won't follow.
I didn't wait for her to respond.
I grabbed the ladder and began my descent, the wood creaking
beneath my weight. Every second felt like a
lifetime. I kept expecting the skinwalker
to grab me, yank me off the ladder and drag me into the
dark, but nothing came. Jess was right behind me, her
breathing sharp and fast. As soon as my boots hit the
ground, I spun around, scanning the forest.
The growling had stopped. The forest was eerily still, too
still. Let's go, I said, grabbing her
arm, and we bolted. The woods closed in around us
immediately, the shadows deeper, thicker, like the trees
themselves, wanted to slow us down.
We ran hard, dodging branches, our boots pounding against the
uneven ground. I could hear Jess just behind
me, her breath ragged and desperate.
But we didn't slow down. Behind us, there was a sudden
sharp crack, the sound of something large moving fast
through the trees. It's coming, Jess yelled, her
voice trembling with terror. I didn't look back.
I didn't have to. The howling started again, low
at first, then rising, gaining speed, getting closer.
It was right behind us, I could feel it.
Faster. I urged, pushing Jess ahead of
me. My lungs burned, my legs
screaming in protest, but we couldn't stop, not now.
The howling turned into a series of distorted, mocking cries,
like the skinwalker was shifting voices, trying to confuse us,
unsettle us. Sometimes it sounded like Kyle,
sometimes like Trevor, sometimes like something far worse.
We were running blind, crashing through the underbrush, barely
able to see where we were going. The only goal was Noka's cabin.
If we could just make it there, maybe the skinwalker would stop.
Maybe there. Jess cried out, pointing ahead.
Through the darkness, I saw it, a faint light barely visible
through the trees. Noka's cabin.
It was so close, but the skinwalker was even closer.
The ground beneath us shook with its footsteps now, the heavy
thud of claws tearing through the earth.
I could hear its breath, ragged and animalistic, and the
unnatural growl that sent chills down my neck.
We burst through the last line of trees, stumbling on to the
small clearing that surrounded Noka's cabin.
The creature was so close now. I could feel its presence, feel
its eyes burning into my back. Noka.
I screamed, my voice hoarse, desperate.
Noka, help. Just as we reached the porch, I
felt something hot, wet breath on the back of my neck.
The skinwalker was right behind us.
But then, as soon as my foot hit the first step of the porch, the
growling stopped. The air was suddenly still.
I collapsed onto the porch, gasping for breath, my heart
thudding in my ears. Jess crouched beside me,
shaking, her eyes wide with terror.
I turned slowly, expecting to see the creature barreling
toward us, but there was nothing.
The edge of the forest stood silent, dark, as if nothing had
been chasing us at all. The door to the cabin creaked
open, and Noka stepped out, his eyes calm but heavy with
understanding. He didn't say a word, He didn't
have to. We'd made it, barely, but the
skinwalker it was still out there, watching us from the
trees, and I knew this wasn't over.
I never liked the idea of working the night shift.
The forest feels different when the sun goes down, darker,
heavier, like it's hiding something.
But I didn't have a choice tonight.
Too many of the other guys quit the night shift recently and
they were short staffed. So here I am, driving through
the winding dirt roads heading to my post at the fire tower.
Normally I work during the day when the trees look green and
peaceful. At night though, they look like
tall twisted shadows. I packed extra coffee to keep me
awake and alert. It wasn't going to be easy.
The fire tower is deep in the woods, far from the main road
and near this big foggy lake. Even during the day, that lake
gives me the creeps. The mist just hangs over it,
like something's waiting underneath, ready to crawl out
when no one's looking. I try not to think about that as
I park the truck and grab my gear.
It's just one night, I tell myself.
The climb up the fire tower feels longer than usual, maybe
because the sky is already so dark by the time I reach the
top. The stars are just beginning to
peek through the clouds, and everything is quiet.
Too quiet. Usually I can hear crickets or
owls by now, but tonight it's just still.
I drop my bag inside the small room at the top of the tower and
take a deep breath. This is my space for the next 8
hours. A tiny room with windows on all
sides overlooking a sea of trees.
I've always loved this view. During the day you can see for
miles, but at night it's like looking into an endless black
ocean with no shore insight. I do my routine check first,
scanning the area with my binoculars.
It's my job to keep an eye out for any signs of fire or danger.
Usually I don't see much at night, just the faint outline of
trees and maybe the distant shimmer of the lake.
But tonight something feels different.
I can't shake this uneasy feeling.
Just as I'm about to sit down with my coffee, I catch a
glimpse of something on the Ridge.
At first I think I'm seeing things, but when I focus the
binoculars, I know it's real. There, on the far edge of the
Ridge, is a figure, a small one, like a kid.
They're wearing what looks like a ghost costume, you know the
kind with the white sheet and the dark holes for eyes.
But it's June. Who wears a costume in June?
A chill runs down my spine. I blink, thinking maybe it's
just my eyes playing tricks. But the figure is still there,
standing perfectly still, staring.
Or at least it feels like it's staring right at me.
I grab the radio. Dan, you there?
I ask, my voice shaking a little.
Dan is the only other person out here tonight at a nearby
station. He answers, laughing.
What's up? You sound spooked.
I see something weird on the Ridge, like a kid in a costume.
Dan chuckles. You're seeing ghost man.
I'll check it out. I keep my eyes glued to the
Ridge as Dan's flashlight flickers in the distance,
getting closer to where I saw the figure.
I wait, my heart pounding. I sit in my chair, gripping the
radio tightly, my eyes never leaving the Ridge.
The flashlight beam from Dan's Lantern bounces as he walks
closer to the spot where I saw the kid.
My heart races and my stomach feels like it's tied in knots.
This doesn't feel right. It's too quiet out here.
No wind, no crickets, not even the usual rustling of the trees,
just this thick, unsettling silence hanging over everything.
I keep replaying what I saw in my head.
It wasn't just the figure that was strange, it was how still it
was too still. And the way the ghostly sheet
hungover the small body gave it a creepy, unnatural look.
I watch as Dan's flashlight gets closer and closer to the Ridge.
Any second now he'll reach it, and then we'll figure out what's
going on. Maybe it's just some prank, some
kid sneaking out for a scare. Yeah, that has to be it.
Kids do dumb stuff all the time. Dan, you getting close?
I ask, my voice breaking the heavy silence.
I try to sound calm, but I can't hide the nerves creeping in.
Almost there. He answers through the radio.
His voice sounds normal, like this is no big deal.
Maybe I'm overreacting, maybe it really is nothing.
Then, suddenly, Dan's flashlight flickers.
It sputters once, twice, and then dies completely.
The light goes out, and Dan disappears into the darkness.
I lean forward, pressing the radio to my mouth.
Dan, Dan, you there? My voice comes out shakier than
I want it to. No answer, Dan.
I shout into the radio, the tension building in my chest.
I scan the Ridge, but now it's just black.
No light, no movement, nothing. My hand tightens around the
binoculars as I sweep them over the spot where I last saw him.
The eerie stillness is suffocating.
The wind should be blowing by now, the trees should be
swaying, but everything feels frozen in place.
Then, just when I think it can't get any worse, the forest itself
seems to react. The quiet becomes louder, if
that even makes sense. The absence of sound presses
against my ears. It's like the whole forest is
holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
I try the radio again. Dan, come on man, quit messing
around. Still nothing.
A sick feeling starts crawling up my spine.
Something is wrong, really wrong.
I reach for my flashlight and shine it out over the trees,
sweeping it back and forth across the Ridge.
But as soon as the beam hits the spot where the kid had been
standing, I stop dead. There's nothing there.
The figure, the kid, the ghost, whatever it was, is gone.
My breath catches in my throat. I should feel relieved that it's
not there anymore, but instead it feels worse.
My mind races. Did the kid run off?
Was this all some weird prank? Or was it something else?
I start pacing inside the small room, trying to think, trying to
figure out what to do. Every second that Dan doesn't
respond feels like a weight pressing down on me.
What if something happened to him?
What if suddenly a new thought hits me and it sends a wave of
cold fear through my body? What if that figure I saw wasn't
a kid at all? What if it was something else
entirely? I grabbed the Radio One last
time, my voice shaking. Dan, please answer.
This isn't funny anymore. But all I hear is the static of
dead air. I stand frozen in the tower,
staring out into the pitch Black Forest.
The radio is still in my hand, but I've stopped trying to call
Dan. There's only silence on the
other end, like the whole world has gone quiet just to mess with
me. My heart pounds so hard I can
feel it in my throat. I shine my flashlight down
toward the forest below, hoping, praying to catch some sign of
Dan. Anything.
His flashlight flickering back on, his voice calling out to me,
but nothing. The beam of light just cuts
through the thick darkness, barely making a dent in the inky
black. Then, out of the corner of my
eye, I see movement. At first, I think I'm imagining
it. I sweep the flashlight back and
forth across the base of the tower, searching for what I saw.
That's when I spot it. Something or someone is moving
through the trees. It's slow at first, a shadow
gliding between the trunks. I narrow my eyes and aim the
light directly at it. My hands start to tremble.
A figure steps into view and my stomach drops.
It's not Dan, it's not even close to Dan.
It's a woman. At least, I think it's a woman.
Her body is all wrong, tall and thin, so thin that her skin
looks like it's stretched over her bones and she's soaking wet.
Her eyes glowed yellow and her clothes are clinging to her in a
way that makes my skin crawl. Her skin look decayed, like
she's been passed on for days, but it's her eyes that make my
blood run cold. They're wide, too wide and pure
yellow. No pupils, just this blank,
terrifying stare. Her mouth hangs open in an
unnatural way, like she's about to scream, but no sound comes
out. For a second I can't move.
I'm locked in place, staring down at her, trying to make
sense of what I'm seeing. This can't be real, it just
can't. But then she starts moving fast.
Too fast. She's at the base of the tower
now, looking up at me with that awful blank stare.
And then, without warning, she starts to climb.
I snap out of my days, my heart hammering in my chest.
She's coming up the stairs too fast.
Way too fast for something that should even be alive.
I slam the door to the cabin shut and lock it, my hands
shaking so bad I can barely turn the latch.
Footsteps echo up the stairs, heavy and fast, like she's
sprinting. My brain races, trying to figure
out what to do. There's no way out.
I'm trapped up here. I grab a knife from the kitchen
drawer, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turn white.
I back away from the door, my eyes glued to it.
I can hear her getting closer, closer, until her footsteps stop
right outside the door. I hold my breath, praying she'll
go away, but then the door handle rattles.
She's trying to get in. Suddenly, I hear a loud thud,
like something slamming against the door.
Then another. The door shakes in its frame,
and I know it won't hold much longer.
My heart races, my whole body trembling as I back into the
corner of the cabin, clutching the knife like it's my only
lifeline. Then I hear it, a faint wet
dripping sound behind me. I turn slowly, my flashlight
beam shaking as it moves across the room.
The supply cabinet. The door is wide open, and
standing in front of it, grinning through the same dark
eyed sheet I saw earlier, is the child.
I can't breathe. My heart feels like it's going
to explode out of my chest as I stare at the child standing by
the open supply cabinet. The same small figure I saw on
the Ridge, still draped in that ghostly white sheet with the
dark holes for eyes. Except now it's standing inside
my tower. My hands shake as I grip the
knife tighter, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing.
This can't be happening. How did they get inside?
How did they climb the tower so fast?
The woman, she's still outside, isn't she?
The child tilts its head like it's amused by my fear and then
starts to laugh. The sound isn't right, it's high
pitched and hollow, echoing off the walls of the tiny room,
making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I take a step back, my legs shaking so badly I nearly fall
over. Before I can think, I lunge
forward and grab the sheet, yanking it off in one quick
motion. The breath catches in my throat.
Standing beneath the sheet is Dan's son, grinning up at me
with wide eyes and holding a small walkie-talkie in his hand.
What, what is this? I stammer, trying to make sense
of it all. Dan's kid you.
This was all a joke. The boy's grin only widens.
Gotcha. He says, his voice full of
laughter. Dad said you'd be scared.
For a split second, relief floods through me.
My knees feel weak and I almost laugh myself.
Of course, it was just a prank. A stupid, elaborate prank set up
by Dan and his kid to mess with me.
I should have known. But then something in my gut
twists. The woman.
The woman at the base of the tower.
She wasn't part of this. I glanced toward the door, my
mind racing. Dan.
I say into the radio, my voice shaky.
You're telling me this whole thing was just a prank?
The kid in the sheet, the whole setup?
Dan's voice crackles back through the radio, still
laughing. Yep.
My son and I thought we'd give you a good scare.
We even rigged the flashlight to die at just the right time.
Pretty good, huh? I feel a surge of anger rise in
my chest. Pretty good, You nearly gave me
a heart attack. But.
I hesitate, my mouth dry. What about the woman?
The line goes silent for a moment.
What woman? Dan finally replies, his voice
serious now. What are you talking about?
I swallow hard. The woman, the one at the bottom
of the tower with yellow eyes, pale and climbing the stairs.
That wasn't part of the joke. There's a pause, a long,
terrible pause. When Dan speaks again, his voice
is low and frightened. That wasn't us.
A cold wave of terror washes over me.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I turn back to the window.
And that's when I see her. She's back, standing at the base
of the tower, looking up at me with those wide, vacant eyes and
that same twisted, unnatural grin.
Her dark hair clings to her face as blood drips from her clothes,
pooling on the steps below. But this time she doesn't start
climbing. She just stands there, staring,
waiting. My breath comes in ragged gasps
and I can't tear my eyes away from her.
My hand grips the knife so tight it hurts, but I know it won't
help. I hear Dan shouting through the
radio, but I don't answer. I can't.
I'm frozen. And then the woman takes 1 slow,
deliberate step toward the tower.
I know deep down that I won't survive the night.