The cabin always had a way of haunting me, Not in the
supernatural sense, but with the heavyweight of memories.
As I drove the winding, overgrown Rd. leading up to it,
I couldn't help but feel a familiar knot in my stomach.
The gravel crunched under the tires, a sound that echoed the
unsettled feelings I'd been carrying for years.
My father was an enigma. On the surface, he was the
successful accountant with an office in the city, a man who
wore suits that seemed to cost more than most people's monthly
rent. But beneath that polished
exterior, there was a darkness we only came to understand when
it was too late. He always had that weary look,
bloodshot eyes that suggested endless nights and hidden
burdens. He was sent to prison right
after my first year of college. 15 years, they said, for washing
hundreds of millions for various cartels.
It was a sentence that tore our family apart.
My mother, unable to bear the disgrace or the threat of her
own impending arrest, took her own life.
Two weeks after his incarceration, they said she was
his accomplice, but I never could reconcile that with the
mother I knew. The government seized
everything, all the properties, the accounts, everything, except
this cabin. It was almost as if they'd
missed it, tucked away as it was in the middle of nowhere.
As I parked the car and stepped out, I let the memories flood
in. This cabin had been our escape,
our summer retreat. It was the only place where I
ever saw my father Relax, if you could call it that.
His version of relaxation involved sitting on the porch
with a glass of Scotch, staring out into the forest like he was
searching for something in the trees.
I took a deep breath, the scent of pine and earth grounding me.
I hadn't been here since everything fell apart.
College and therapy had consumed my life since then, and I'd
managed to piece together something resembling normalcy.
I graduated, got a job, and even made some friends.
Jack, Pedro, and Randy were waiting back at the car, their
expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.
Ready. Jack asked, his tone light but
his eyes betraying his unease. Yeah, I replied, forcing a
smile. Let's get this over with.
We unloaded our bags and made our way to the cabin.
The door creaked open, a sound that seemed louder in the
stillness of the forest. Inside, everything was as I
remembered, but covered in a thick layer of dust.
The furniture stood like silent Sentinels, holding on to the
secrets of the past. We spent the first few hours
cleaning up the work, helping to distract from the memories.
By the time evening fell, the place looked almost livable.
We cracked open a few drinks, trying to inject some levity
into the heavy atmosphere. This place is kind of creepy,
Pedro said, looking around. Yeah, but it's got character,
Randy added, Always the optimist.
I laughed. A short, humorless sound
character. That's one way to put it.
As night fell, the cabin seemed to close in around us.
We built a fire in the old stone fireplace, the flickering light
casting long shadows on the walls.
I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched,
though I knew it was just my mind playing tricks on me.
Here's to new beginnings, Jack said, raising his drink to new
beginnings. We echoed.
Though my mind was still tangled in the past, I stared into the
fire, the flames dancing and crackling.
This cabin was all I had left of my family, a tangible piece of a
life that had been shattered. I hoped that by coming here, I
could finally put some of those pieces back together.
But as the night wore on, I began to wonder if some things
were better left in the shadows. By the third night, we'd
exhausted our supplies, and we're left with nothing but
hunger pangs and the remnants of our dwindling buzz.
The cabin's isolation, which had initially seemed like a
blessing, now felt like a curse. The nearest rest stop was a 30
minute walk, but it had a 24/7 diner that I remembered fondly
from past trips. Looks like we're going on an
adventure, I announced, trying to keep the mood light.
Jack, Pedro, and Randy groaned, but agreed.
We set out along the narrow, winding path through the woods,
the night air cool and the forest eerily quiet.
Our flashlights cut through the darkness, casting long, thin
beams that danced with the shadows.
The diner was a beacon of light and warmth when we finally
arrived. We ordered burgers, fries and
milkshakes, and the greasy, comforting food was a welcome
reprieve from the tension that had been building since our
arrival. We laughed and joked, the
familiarity of our friendship easing the weight of my past.
It was close to 2:00 AM when we decided to head back.
The walk back through the woods felt different.
The air was heavier, and there was a strange, acrid smell that
grew stronger with each step. Do you smell that?
Pedro asked, wrinkling his nose. Yeah, I replied, unease creeping
into my voice. Smells like something burning.
As we got closer to the cabin, the smell became overpowering, a
mix of smoke and something far more sinister.
My heart began to race, a sense of dread settling in my gut.
When we reached the clearing, my worst fears were realized.
The cabin was completely engulfed in flames, the inferno
roaring with a ferocity that made my heart pound.
Dark plumes of smoke billowed into the night sky, tinged with
an ominous orange glow. I felt a scream rise in my
throat, but it came out as a choked gasp.
No, no, no, I yelled, sprinting towards the cabin.
Jack grabbed my arm, pulling me back.
There's nothing you can do, man. We need to call 911.
I fumble for my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed.
The operator's calm voice felt out of place in the chaos, and I
could barely get the words out. Fire cabin, please hurry,
they're on their way, but it'll be at least 30 minutes, the
operator said. We retreated a safe distance
from the inferno, standing in stunned silence as we watched
everything burn. My mind raced, trying to make
sense of what was happening. This cabin was supposed to be my
sanctuary, the last piece of my family's legacy, and now it was
being consumed by flames. Then, as suddenly as it started,
the fire stopped. The roaring flames vanished,
leaving the cabin a smoldering, charred skeleton.
The smoke dissipated and the night fell eerily silent.
We stared in disbelief, unable to comprehend what we were
seeing. How?
How did that happen? Randy whispered, his voice
trembling. Using the flashlight on my
phone, I began to survey the damage, expecting to find
nothing but ash and debris. But then Pedro's voice cut
through the silence, tinged with horror.
Guys, where the hell did this thing come from?
We gathered around him, our flashlights illuminating the
grotesque sight. Nestled in the charred remains
was the corpse of a monstrosity unlike anything I'd ever seen.
It was about the size of a bear, with patches of pale, clammy
skin and deep, jagged cuts etched into its flesh.
Its head was smashed in, but it's wide bottom jaw remained,
bearing long, blackened teeth. The creature had multiple long,
thick arms, and in them it cradled something that looked
disturbingly like a human infant.
The baby appeared unscathed, its skin smooth and untouched by the
fire. As I stared, I could have sworn
I saw it breathing. A chilling sense of dread washed
over me. This wasn't just a fire, this
was something far darker, something that reached into the
very depths of the past I was trying so hard to escape.
We stood frozen, staring at the monstrous corpse.
The air was thick with the scent of charred wood and something
far more pungent, a smell that made my stomach churn.
As the shock began to wear off, a new sound reached our ears,
Faint at first but growing steadily louder.
Chanting. Rhythmic, eerie chanting that
sent chills down my spine. What the hell is that?
Jack whispered, his eyes wide with fear.
I don't know, I replied, my voice barely audible over the
growing cacophony. The chanting grew louder, more
insistent, and undeniably closer.
It wasn't the sound of people walking, it was as if they were
sprinting through the woods. Panic set in.
We needed to get out of there. Run, I shouted, and we took off
like bats out of hell, our flashlights bobbing wildly as we
stumbled through the underbrush branches slapped against my face
and I could hear Pedro cursing behind me.
The chanting was deafening now and almost inhuman roar that
seemed to come from all around us.
My heart pounded in my chest and adrenaline surged through my
veins. We had to make it to the car.
We had to get away from whatever was coming.
We burst out of the woods and into the clearing where my car
was parked. I fumble with the keys, my hands
shaking so badly I could barely get the door open.
The chanting was so loud it felt like it was inside, my head
reverberating through my skull. Hurry up, Randy yelled, his
voice barely audible over the din.
Finally, I managed to unlock the doors and we piled in, slamming
them shut. I jammed the key into the
ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life and
the chanting stopped. Just like that.
It was gone. The sudden silence was almost as
jarring as the noise had been. I looked up, my breath coming in
ragged gasps, and saw them, figures standing at the edge of
the woods, just beyond the reach of our headlights.
They were human shaped, but far too large, their silhouettes
looming menacingly in the darkness.
Damn, Pedro muttered. What the hell are those things?
I don't know and I don't want to find out, I said, slamming the
car into drive and tearing out of there.
We speed down the road, the headlights slicing through the
darkness. I didn't dare look in the rear
view mirror until we reached the highway.
When I finally did, there was nothing there, just the empty
Rd. behind us. We drove until we reached the
rest stop, now swarming with police cars.
I parked and stumbled out of the car, my legs shaking.
We approached an officer, and I asked if they were there because
of the fire. Fire.
The cop looked at me, puzzled. No.
Has there been a fire? I explained about the cabin,
leaving out the part about the creature and the chanting.
His expression remained stoic, but I could see a flicker of
something in his eyes. All right, he said.
We'll look into it, get a hotel for the night, we'll update you
in the morning. We exchanged numbers and I
thanked him as I turned to leave.
He called out to me. Hey, can I ask you something?
I turned back. Yeah, sure.
Are you my dad's name? Son?
I stared at him, taken aback. Yeah, I am.
I thought I recognized you. He took a deep breath, looking
around before continuing. I can't tell you everything, but
all this tonight, it's connected to your father cartels, right?
That's what they told you. It's not the whole story, not
even close. What are you talking about?
I asked, feeling a cold knot of dread form in my stomach.
I'll be in touch, he said, looking around again.
Just stay safe. We left the rest stop and drove
back to the city in silence. I dropped off my friends and
went home, my mind racing. Sleep was impossible.
The officers words echoed in my head, The chanting, the
creature, the fire. It all pointed to something far
more sinister than I could have imagined, and I had a feeling it
was only the beginning. Back in the city, I tried to
return to normal life, but normalcy was elusive.
I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as if shadows
clung to me even in the daylight It started.
Small odd sounds in the night, fleeting shadows in the corner
of my vision. But soon it became impossible to
ignore. Every night, without fail, I
heard a baby crying from the apartment across the hall.
I knew the place was rented by a couple of college kids.
They didn't have a baby, I told myself.
It was just my mind playing tricks, the stress from the
cabin catching up with me. But the crying persisted,
growing louder and more insistent, as if it was
demanding my attention. Then there were the phone calls.
At first I thought it was a wrong number, but the calls came
at odd hours, always the same dead silence for nearly 30
seconds before the line clicked dead.
The area code was local, but every attempt to trace the
number led to a dead end. The final straw came one night
when I caught sight of a figure standing in the window of the
abandoned house across the street.
It had been empty for years, a failed development project left
to rot. But now there was someone or
something watching me from the 2nd floor window.
The moment I turned to look directly, the blind snap shut.
I couldn't take it anymore. I needed answers.
I tried calling the police officer who had seemed to know
more than he let on, but there was no response.
My frustration grew, a gnawing anger mingled with a fear I
couldn't shake. Driven by desperation, I decided
to return to the cabin. I had to see for myself if there
were any clues left in the ashes.
As I approached the road leading to the rest stop, I saw it was
blocked. Two cop cars stood guard, and an
officer signaled for me to turn around.
I parked on the side of the road and approached him.
What's going on? I asked, trying to keep my voice
steady. Emergency construction, he said,
not meeting my eyes. Construction, I repeated,
incredulous. At this hour?
He stared at me, his gaze unwavering.
Turn around now. Frustrated, I drove back to the
city. I felt like I was hitting a wall
at every turn. It seemed like someone or
something was determined to keep me from uncovering the truth.
That night, the baby's cries were louder than ever.
I pounded on the door, across the hall, but no one answered.
The crying continued, relentless and haunting.
I sank to the floor outside the door, my head in my hands.
Suddenly my phone rang. The same number.
I answered, my voice trembling. Hello.
Silence. Then, just as I was about to
hang up, a voice whispered, Stay away.
The line went dead. I couldn't take it anymore.
I drove to the abandoned house, determined to confront whatever
or whoever was behind all this. As I approached, I saw the
figure again, peering from the 2nd floor window.
My heart raced, but I pushed forward, crossing the street and
forcing the door open. Inside the house was a ruin
filled with the detritus of failed dreams.
I climb the stairs, each Creek echoing in the silence.
When I reached the 2nd floor, the figure was gone, but a cold
chill ran down my spine. In the center of the room,
scrawled in what looked like ash and blood, was a message.
It's not over. I backed away, my heart pounding
and fled the house. As I reached my apartment, my
phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.
It was a photo of the cabin taken recently.
In the background, barely visible, was the outline of the
monstrous creature we had found, The message read.
Your father's sins are yours to bear.
I dropped the phone, my hands trembling.
I realized then that the shadows of my father's past were far
deeper and darker than I had imagined.
And they were coming for me. Sleep was impossible That night.
I lay in bed, eyes wide open, waiting for the dawn, knowing
that this was just the beginning.
Fishing had always been my refuge.
The quiet of the riverbank, the gentle flow of the water and the
anticipation of a bite always brought me peace.
But today was different. As I cast my line into the
waters of Dismal Creek, my stomach growled, a sharp
reminder of the dwindling supplies.
Back at the campsite, my dog Buddy lay by my side, his eyes
fixed on the rippling water. We had been out here for weeks
and our food supply was almost gone.
I had always loved this spot. Despite its gloomy name.
Dismal Creek was a hidden gem on the Appalachian Trail, a
secluded place surrounded by towering trees in the sounds of
nature. The Appalachian Trail, a famous
2200 mile trail that stretches up and down the East Coast of
the United States, has always been a haven for people like me.
The unwritten code among hikers was that you always helped each
other out here, and I hope to meet a friendly face today.
My fishing luck was running thin.
Though an hour had passed with no bites and my stomach's
protests grew louder, Buddy seemed to sense my frustration.
He started whining and shifting around.
His ears perked up. I looked around, scanning the
dense forest. There was something unsettling
about the way Buddy was acting, like he sensed something I
couldn't see. Just as I was about to pack up
and head back to the campsite, I heard it a voice, faint at first
but growing louder. Someone was coming through the
woods behind me. My heart leaped.
Maybe it was another hiker, someone who could share some
food, but there was also a knot of unease in my stomach.
I couldn't shake the stories I'd heard about this trail murders
had happened here before, not far from where I stood now.
Hey there. The voice was clear now, and I
turned to see a man in his early 30s stepping out from the trees.
He had a friendly grin on his face and he looked harmless
enough. How's the fishing?
I forced a smile. Not great.
I haven't had a bite all day. The man walked closer, extending
a hand. I'm Scott.
Scott Johnston. I'm camping up the way with my
friend. We're out here fishing too.
Relief washed over me. He didn't seem like a threat.
Nice to meet you, Scott. I'm Ricky.
Ricky Williams. I paused, then added.
I don't suppose you have any food to spare?
My dog and I are running low. Scott's grin widened.
Sure thing. He reached into his backpack and
pulled out a couple of energy bars and a bag of chips.
He tossed them over to me. Here you go.
We've got plenty. You should join us for dinner
later. My friend Sean's a great cook.
I caught the food and nodded gratefully.
That sounds great. Thank you For the next couple of
hours, Scott and I stood by the riverbank, casting our lines and
chatting. The fish started biting, and we
managed to catch a few good sized trout.
The sun began to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows over
the water. It had turned into a pretty good
day after all. As the sunset.
Scott packed up his gear and turned to me, ready to head
back. Dinner should be about ready.
I nodded, gathering my things. But he perked up, sensing the
end of our fishing adventure. Yeah, let's go.
Scott led the way, his fishing pole getting caught on a low
hanging branch. Go on ahead, he said, untangling
it. The campsites just up that hill.
You'll see it. I hesitated, but then started up
the path. The forest grew darker as I
walked, and a strange feeling settled over me.
When I finally stepped into the clearing, I saw the campsite and
a massive figure hunched over the campfire.
This must be Sean. He turned as I approached, and
the look he gave me sent a shiver down my spine.
Who's this? Sean's voice was deep and
suspicious. I raised my hands.
Scott invited me. I'm Ricky.
Just then, Scott emerged from the trees, clapping me on the
back. Hey, Sean, this is Ricky.
He's joining us for dinner. Sean's expression softened
slightly, but the unease lingered as I sat down by the
fire. I couldn't shake the feeling
that I was intruding on something I didn't quite
understand. The night had only just begun,
and already it felt like it was going to be a long one.
As we reached the campsite, the first thing I noticed was Sean.
He was huge, at least twice the size of Scott, and he looked at
me with narrowed eyes. The campsite itself was simple.
A couple of tents, a campfire, and a truck parked nearby.
Buddy stayed close to my side, sensing my unease.
Hey, Sean, this is Ricky, Scott said, trying to keep things
light. He's been out here fishing, too.
Sean grunted a greeting, but his eyes stayed cold.
Nice to meet you, I said, trying to sound friendly, but my voice
came out shaky. Scott motioned for me to sit by
the fire, and I took a spot on a log, trying to make myself
comfortable. As I did, Scott walked over to
his truck and turned on the radio.
Suddenly, loud country music blared from the speakers,
shattering the piece of the woods.
I winced. Scott grinned at me.
Hope you like country. I forced a smile.
Yeah, it's fine. But inside I was cringing.
I love the peace and quiet of the wilderness, and the loud
music felt wrong out here. Sean and Scott started prepping
the fish we'd caught, using sharp knives to clean and debone
them. I watched, feeling awkward and
useless. Hey, can I help?
I asked, hoping to break the tension.
Sean shook his head. We got it, he said curtly.
Scott glanced at me and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Just relax, Ricky, you're our guest.
I sat back, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling growing in
my stomach. As the two men worked, I
couldn't help but notice the way they communicated with each
other. Quiet glances and subtle
gestures. It felt like they were speaking
a language I didn't understand. After what felt like an
eternity, the fish were finally ready.
Sean cooked them over the open flame, and the smell made my
mouth water. Despite my unease, I was
starving, and I knew Buddy was too.
We all ate in silence, the only sounds, the crackling of the
fire and the music from Scott's truck.
As we finished eating, the sky darkened and the forest grew
even more still. I tried to make conversation,
telling Scott and Sean about my love for the Appalachian Trail,
how I often came out here to escape the chaos of everyday
life. I even shared how I sometimes
meditated and chanted, trying to connect with nature on a deeper
level. Scott nodded along, but I could
see the skepticism in his eyes. Sean just stared at me like he
was trying to figure out if I was crazy.
That's interesting, Scott said finally.
I could tell they thought I was strange, and I felt a wave of
embarrassment wash over me. I wished I hadn't said anything.
The silence that followed was heavy and awkward.
Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore.
I stood up, brushing off my pants.
Thanks for the food, guys. I should probably head back to
my campsite. Scott and Sean both looked at
me, and for a moment I thought they were going to protest.
But then Scott nodded. Sure thing, Ricky.
Be safe out there. I gathered my things and Buddy
and I started walking back into the woods.
As we left, the light of the campfire behind the darkness
seemed to close in around us. I couldn't shake the feeling
that something was off about Scott and Sean, something I
couldn't quite put my finger on. Buddy stayed close, his nose
twitching as he sniffed the air. I kept my hand on his head,
drawing comfort from his presence.
The forest was eerily silent now, the only sound our
footsteps on the path. I turned back once, looking at
the glow of the campfire in the distance.
Scott and Sean were just shadows now, but I could still feel
their eyes on me. I quicken my pace, eager to put
as much distance between us as possible.
Something told me this night was far from over.
As Buddy and I walked away from the campsite, I couldn't shake
the feeling of dread. The forest seemed darker, the
shadows deeper. Every sound made me jump.
I told myself to calm down, but it was no use.
Something was wrong. I had barely made it a few steps
into the trees when a loud explosion shattered the night.
It was so sudden and loud that I almost dropped my flashlight,
but he barked and growled, spinning around to face the
campsite. I turned 2, heart pounding in my
chest. I could see the campsite in the
distance, lit by the fire. Scott and Sean were standing
there, looking just as shocked as I felt.
Sean was clutching his face, and even from where I stood, I could
see the blood. My stomach twisted.
What just happened? Before I could process anything,
I saw Scott start running. He bolted from the campsite into
the woods, his movements frantic and uncoordinated.
He was running for his life. My mind raced.
What was going on? Who shot Sean?
And then it hit me. I was the one with the gun, but
I hadn't fired it. I was sure of it yet.
As I look down at my hands, I saw the gun there, smoke still
curling from the barrel. It didn't make any sense.
Sean was on the ground now, struggling to get up.
Blood streamed from his face. I took a step back, horrified.
What had I done? My mind was a blur of confusion
and fear. I had to get out of here.
I had to get away before anyone realized what happened.
Buddy was already tugging at the leash.
Sensing my panic, we turned and ran, crashing through the
underbrush, away from the campsite and the horror I had
left behind. But even as we ran, I couldn't
stop thinking about Scott and Sean.
Scott had disappeared into the woods, but Sean was still back
there. He needed help.
I couldn't just leave him. I slowed to a stop, panting, and
turned back. Through the trees I could see
the glow of the campfire. Sean was still there, but he
wasn't moving. My heart sank.
I had to go back. I couldn't leave him to die.
With a deep breath, I started back towards the campsite.
My hands were shaking, my heart racing, but he stayed close.
His ears perked up, alert to every sound.
As we got closer, I could see Sean better.
He was on his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
He was alive, but just barely. I stepped into the clearing, and
Sean's eyes flicked open. He saw me and tried to speak,
but no words came out. Instead, he reached up, his hand
trembling. I knelt beside him, trying to
keep my own hands steady. I'm sorry, I whispered, not
knowing what else to say. I don't know what happened.
I didn't mean to. Before I could finish, a new
sound reached my ears, the sound of footsteps, fast and heavy,
coming towards us. I turned and saw Scott emerging
from the trees, his face a mask of terror.
He looked at me, then at Sean, and then back at me, and in his
eyes I saw something I didn't expect.
Fear. Run, Scott shouted.
He's coming back. We have to get out of here.
I didn't understand, but there was no time to ask questions.
I grabbed Sean's arm and helped him to his feet.
Together, the three of us stumbled away from the campsite,
deeper into the forest. My mind was a whirlwind of
confusion and fear. Who was coming?
Why were we running? And most importantly, what had I
done? We ran for what felt like hours,
but was probably only minutes. My legs burned and my lungs
ached, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.
Scott led the way, his flashlight cutting through the
darkness. Sean leaned on me heavily, his
breath coming in ragged gasps. Finally we burst out of the
trees onto a narrow Rd. I looked around, trying to get
my bearings. We were miles from anywhere, but
at least we were out of the forest.
Scott waved us towards a small house in the distance, It's
lights, a beacon in the darkness.
As we approach the house, the door flew open and a woman
stepped out, her eyes wide with shock.
She took one look at us and ran back inside, shouting for
someone to call 911. I collapsed onto the porch, my
body shaking with exhaustion and fear, but he lay down next to
me, his head on my lap. I stroked his fur, trying to
calm my racing heart. Whatever had happened back
there, we were safe now. But as I looked back at the dark
line of the forest, I knew the nightmare was far from over.
The flashing lights of the ambulance and police cars
painted the night in red and blue.
Medics were rushing Scott and Shawn away, both of them barely
hanging on. I sat on the porch, still trying
to process everything. My mind was a tangled mess of
fear and confusion. The police asked me questions,
but my answers felt distant and unreal.
All I could think about was that explosion, the gun in my hand
and the blood. How did it all happen?
Why did it all happen? I couldn't make sense of it.
One of the officers, a kind looking woman, knelt beside me.
Ricky, we need you to come with us.
We found something at another campsite and we think it might
help explain what's going on. I nodded numbly, still in shock.
I climbed into the back of a police car, buddy hopping in
beside me. The ride was a blur, the forest
outside the window, a dark, endless sea of trees.
When we arrived at the other campsite, the scene was eerie.
It was simple, just a tent and a campfire.
But something felt wrong. The officers led me to the tent,
lifting the flap to show me what was inside.
My stomach churned. There were knives, dozens of
them, laid out in neat rows. A police scanner sat in one
corner. It's red light, blinking
ominously. There were piles of clothes,
some for kids, some for adults, men and women.
And in the middle of it all, a piece of paper caught my eye.
It was a birth certificate. The name on it made my blood run
cold. Randall Lee Smith, the infamous
murderer who had killed 2 hikers near Dismal Creek in 1981.
He had been paroled years ago, but now here was his birth
certificate right in front of me.
I looked at the officers, my heart pounding in my chest.
This can't be real, Randall Lee Smith.
But I thought he was gone. The officer who had driven me
here nodded grimly. We all did, but it looks like
he's been living out here, hiding in plain sight, and it
seems he hasn't stopped his old ways.
As I stood there trying to make sense of it all, another officer
handed me a cassette tape. We found this in a radio.
You might want to hear it. They played the tape and the
sound that came out was chilling.
It was a man's voice, chanting and howling in a way that made
my skin crawl. It sounded like some kind of
ritual, a twisted prayer to something dark and evil.
I shivered. The reality of it all sinking
in. Randall Lee Smith had been out
here living in the woods, and I had walked right into his trap.
The thought made me sick. The officers continued their
search, finding more disturbing items.
Women's underwear, eyeglasses, and a map of the Appalachian
Trail with certain spots circled.
One of those spots was Dismal Creek.
Back at the hospital, Scott and Sean were being treated for
their injuries. I learned that they had managed
to survive the attack despite the odds.
Scott had been shot in the neck and back and Sean had been shot
in the face and chest, but they were alive.
The news was a small comfort in the midst of all this horror.
As for Randall Lee Smith, the police found him.
He had crashed his truck while trying to flee and was in
custody. Though barely alive.
He died a few days later from injuries sustained in the crash,
taking his secrets with him to the grave.
In the days that followed, the police tried to piece together
the full extent of Smith's crimes.
They matched DNA from the items in his tent to unsolved cases,
but found no direct connections. The circled spots on the map
remained a mystery, and the true number of his victims might
never be known. Sean and Scott eventually
recovered, though they bore the physical and emotional scars of
that night. They told their story, making it
clear that they had only wanted to help a fellow hiker, never
suspecting the true danger they were in.
As for me, I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt and horror.
I had come out here seeking peace and had stumbled into a
nightmare. The Appalachian Trail, once my
refuge, now felt tainted by the memory of what had happened.
Buddy stayed close, a constant source of comfort.
We still walked the trail, but it was different now.
I couldn't forget the darkness. I had seen the evil that had
lurked so close, but I also couldn't let it take away the
beauty and solace the trail had always given me.
Life went on, but the haunting of Dismal Creek remained a part
of me, a reminder that even in the most beautiful places,
darkness can hide just out of sight.
The fire crackled softly as we sat in a circle, the darkness of
the forest pressing in around us.
The flames cast long dancing shadows, and the night air was
crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth.
I glanced at my friends, their faces illuminated by the
flickering light. It was our annual camping trip,
a tradition we'd kept since high school This year.
We had chosen a remote spot, deep in the woods, far from the
nearest town, far from civilization.
It seemed like the perfect place to unwind and disconnect from
our everyday lives. Everything had been going
smoothly until tonight. Do you guys remember what
happened? Emma asked, her voice tinged
with unease. She had always been the cautious
one, the voice of reason among us.
I frowned, trying to piece together the fragmented memories
of the previous night. I remembered the fire, the
laughter, and the drinking, but after that things got hazy.
We were telling ghost stories, right?
I said, hoping someone could fill in the blanks.
Yeah, Ryan replied, but he didn't sound sure we were, But
then, I don't know, It's like I blacked out or something.
Luke, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up.
I remember he said, his voice low.
There was something in the woods.
My heart skipped a beat, a cold wave of dread washing over me.
Flashes of the night surged back into my mind, shadowy figures
slipping between the ancient trees, their movements fluid and
unnatural. The wind carried faint, haunting
whispers that seemed to come from all directions.
Speaking in a language I couldn't understand, an
overwhelming sense of dread had settled over me like a
suffocating shroud making it hard to breathe.
Each memory felt surreal, like fragments of a terrible dream
that couldn't possibly be real. Yet the fear they evoked was all
too tangible. What did we see?
I asked, my mouth dry. Luke's eyes darted to the dark
woods surrounding us. I don't know, but I know the
feeling it gave me. Emma shivered, pulling her
jacket tighter around her. I thought it was just a
nightmare. A nightmare we all had in
unison. I don't think so, Luke insisted,
his voice trembling. A silence fell over us, the only
sounds, the crackling fire and the distant rustling of leaves.
The fear in our eyes was unmistakable, but there was
something else. Confusion, like our memories
were fragmented pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit
together. Wait, Ryan said suddenly.
Didn't we run? I remember running through the
woods, trying to get away. I remember that, too, I said.
The memory surfacing branches whipped against my face, the
ground uneven beneath my feet, the sensation of being chased.
But we didn't all run, Emma said, her voice trembling.
Some of us stayed behind. A cold chill ran down my spine.
What do you mean? Emma's eyes filled with tears.
I saw you, Alex. You were standing by the fire,
talking to it like you were in a trance.
That's not possible, I said, shaking my head.
I was with you guys. We all ran together.
Luke's face went pale. No, she's right.
I remember that, too. You were saying something to it.
Panic surged through me, but that's not what happened.
I insisted I was with you guys. Then how do we all remember it
differently? Ryan asked, his voice barely
above a whisper. We sat in stunned silence, the
fire casting eerie shadows around us.
I could feel the weight of the conflicting memories pressing
down on me, each one as real as the other, but impossible to
reconcile. Suddenly, a twig snapped in the
darkness. We all froze, our eyes darting
to the edge of the fire light. A figure stood just beyond the
reach of the flames, tall and unnaturally thin.
The details were obscured by the shadows, but there was something
familiar about its posture, its presence, its back.
Luke whispered, his voice trembling.
Who Who's back? Emma responded.
I I don't know, I replied, my voice barely a whisper.
Emma clutched my arm. We need to leave now.
Before we could react, the figure emerged from the shadows
and stepped into the flickering light of the fire, revealing a
face that sent a chill down my spine.
It was me, or at least it looked like me.
But there was something off, something inherently wrong about
the way it moved and the expression etched on its
features. Its eyes, once mirrors of my
own, now glinted with an unsettling darkness.
Devoid of any trace of humanity, they locked onto mine with a
predatory intensity and a sickening smile spread across
its lips, a twisted, malevolent grin that sent a shiver down my
spine. The resemblance was uncanny, yet
there was an undeniable aura of menace emanating from this
doppelganger, as if it were a distorted reflection of my worst
fears and darkest desires come to life.
Some of us remember it, said It's voice, a chilling echo of
my own. Some of us don't.
My friends screamed, the sound piercing the night, but I
couldn't move, couldn't speak. The creature lunged forward and
the world went black. I woke up with a start, my heart
pounding like a drum in my chest.
The remnants of a nightmare clung to my mind, but I couldn't
tell if it was real or just the lingering effects of the fire
light in the dark woods. The air in the tent was cold,
and outside the first light of dawn was just beginning to
filter through the trees. I heard the rustle of movement
from the other tents. My friends were waking up, too.
Emma's voice broke the silence. Alex, are you awake?
She whispered, her tone tight with fear.
Yeah, I replied, my throat dry. I'm awake.
She unzipped her tent and stepped out, her eyes wide and
haunted. We need to talk about what
happened last night. I crawled out of my tent, the
cold morning air biting into my skin.
Ryan and Luke were already up, their faces pale and drawn.
We gathered around the dying embers of the campfire, the
events of the night before weighing heavily on us.
We need to leave, Ryan said, his voice urgent.
Whatever happened last night, it's not safe here.
Luke nodded in agreement, his eyes darting nervously to the
shadows that still lingered at the edge of the clearing.
I don't want to spend another night in these woods.
We packed up quickly, our movements hurried intense as we
loaded our gear into the cars I couldn't shake The feeling of
being watched every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves set
my nerves on edge. The forest seemed to be alive,
with unseen eyes following our every move.
The drive back to town was silent, the tension in the car
palpable. Emma sat in the passenger seat,
staring out the window, while Ryan and Luke rode in the back,
their faces drawn with worry. I glanced in the rearview
mirror, half expecting to see the doppelganger standing at the
edge of the road, watching us with that malevolent smile.
But there was nothing, only the empty Rd. stretching out behind
us. When we finally reached town, we
went our separate ways, each of us too shaken to speak.
I drove home, my mind racing with thoughts of what had
happened. The encounter with the
doppelganger felt like a dream, but the fear was real, and it
clung to me like a second skin. That night, as I lay in bed, I
couldn't shake the feeling that something was still out there
watching me. The events of the previous night
replayed in my mind, each memory more vivid than the last.
I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, my mind filled with
questions and fears. Just as I was drifting off, I
heard a faint tapping at my window.
My heart leapt into my throat, and I sat up, my eyes wide with
fear. Slowly I turned to look, and
there it was, the doppelganger, its expression blank, its eyes
empty. It smiled, a twisted reflection
of my own face, and mouthed the words some of us remember.
I bolted upright, my heart racing as I backed away from the
window. The doppelganger's eyes followed
my every movement, its smile widening in a grotesque parody
of my own. Trembling, I reached for my
phone and dialed Emma's number, my fingers fumbling over the
keys she picked up after the third ring, her voice groggy and
confused. Alex, what's going on?
It's the middle of the night. It's here, I whispered, my voice
shaking. It's right outside my window,
the doppelganger. There was a brief pause, and
then Emma's voice came back, more alert and panicked.
What? Are you sure?
Did you call the police? I don't think the police can
help with this, I replied, glancing back at the window.
The figure was gone, leaving only the empty night behind.
I I think it wants something from us.
Before Emma could respond, a loud crash came from the living
room. My heart skipped a beat and I
slowly crept towards the sound, the phone still pressed to my
ear. Emma, stay on the line.
Something's in my house. I heard her gasp on the other
end. Alex, be careful.
I edged towards the living room, every shadow seeming to writhe
and twist with malevolent intent.
As I rounded the corner, I saw the front door swinging open,
the locks splintered and broken, my breath caught in my throat.
It's inside, I whispered. I stood there, frozen as the
realization hit me. Whatever we had encountered in
the woods had followed us home. We gathered at Emma's house the
next morning, each of us looking more haggard than the last.
The previous night's encounters had left us shaken, but we knew
what we had to do. The only way to stop whatever we
had unleashed was to go back to the forest and confront it head
on. The drive to the forest was
tense, the silence heavy with unspoken fears.
Emma sat beside me, her face pale and set in grim
determination. Ryan and Luke followed in their
car, their expressions mirroring our own anxiety.
The road seemed longer this time, the trees lining the way,
taller and more oppressive, as if they were closing in on us.
When we finally reached the edge of the forest, we parked and
gathered our gear. The morning light filtered
through the trees, casting eerie shadows on the ground.
I could feel the weight of the woods pressing down on us, a
tangible reminder of the darkness we were about to face.
We need to find the exact spot where we perform the ritual,
Emma said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.
It's the only way to reverse what we did.
We started down the path, our footsteps crunching on the
fallen leaves. The forest was silent, the usual
sounds of birds and insects absent.
It felt as though the woods were holding their breath, waiting
for something to happen. Every snap of a twig, every
rustle of leaves made my heart race, my nerves on edge.
As we neared the clearing, the sense of dread grew stronger.
The air seemed colder, the shadows darker.
The clearing was just as we had left it, the symbols we had
drawn still faintly visible in the dirt.
The remnants of our fire lay in a pile of ashes, a stark
reminder of the night that had started this nightmare.
We need to redraw the symbols, Emma said, kneeling beside the
faint lines. And we need to chant the
reversal incantation from the book.
We worked quickly, retracing the symbols in the dirt, our hands
shaking with the effort. As we finished, Emma opened the
old book we had found in the abandoned cabin.
The pages were yellowed and brittle, The writing faded but
still legible. She began to read the
incantation, her voice low and steady as she spoke.
The air around us grew colder, and the shadows seemed to come
alive, writhing and twisting at the edge of the clearing.
A feeling of malevolent presence filled the air, pressing down on
us, making it hard to breathe. We're not alone, Ryan whispered,
his eyes darting around the clearing.
I followed his gaze and saw them, our doppelgangers,
standing at the edge of the clearing, watching us with cold,
empty eyes. They moved closer, their faces
twisted into grotesque parodies of our own expressions.
My heart pounded in my chest, a cold sweat breaking out on my
forehead. We have to keep going, Emma
said, her voice trembling but resolute.
We have to finish this. We joined, hands forming a
circle around the symbols, and began to chant the reversal
incantation in unison. The doppelgangers moved closer,
their eyes fixed on us, their presence A tangible force of
darkness. As we chanted, the symbols in
the dirt began to glow with a faint, eerie light.
The air crackled with energy, and the ground beneath us seemed
to shift in pulse. The doppelgangers stopped at the
edge of the circle, unable to cross the glowing line.
Keep going, Emma urged, her voice rising above the growing
hum of energy. We chanted louder, our voices
blending together in a desperate plea.
The light from the symbols grew brighter, pushing back the
darkness, and the doppelgangers began to dissolve, their forms
breaking apart like shadows in the sunlight.
Finally, with one last powerful surge, the ritual reached its
climax. The glowing symbols flared
brightly and then dimmed, the energy dissipating into the air.
The doppelgangers were gone, the clearing once again, silent and
still. We stood there, breathing
heavily, the weight of our ordeal pressing down on us.
The forest seemed to exhale, the oppressive atmosphere lifting
slightly. It's over, I said, my voice
shaky but filled with relief. We did it, but as we turn to
leave the clearing, I couldn't shake the feeling that something
had changed, something deep within us.
We had faced our darkest fears and come out the other side, but
the shadows of that night would linger, a reminder of the
darkness that lurks just beyond the edge of the light.
The night seemed to stretch on forever as we drove away from
the clearing, the oppressive darkness of the forest finally
lifting. We had succeeded in reversing
the ritual, but a sense of unease still clung to us.
The doppelgangers were gone, but their haunting presence lingered
in our minds. We parted ways in town, each of
us heading to our respective homes.
The drive back was a blur, my thoughts racing with what we had
done and what we had faced. When I finally pulled into my
driveway, the relief was overwhelming, but it was
tempered by the lingering fear that we had only just begun to
understand. The house was dark and silent as
I stepped inside, my footsteps echoing in the empty rooms.
I locked the door behind me, double checking the deadbolt
before heading to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of
water, my hands still shaking. The cold liquid did little to
calm my nerves, and I found myself pacing the room, my mind
unable to settle. I glanced at the clock.
It was well past midnight, but I knew sleep would be elusive.
I decided to check on Emma, Ryan, and Luke to make sure they
were safe. My phone buzzed with a message
just as I picked it up. Are you OK?
It was from Emma. Yeah, I replied.
Just got home. You.
Same. It's over, right?
Yeah. I typed back, but my fingers
hesitated over the keys. I hope so.
I sent a similar message to Ryan and Luke, their replies quick
and equally uncertain. We had done everything we could,
but there was still that nagging doubt.
Exhausted, I finally went to my room and lay down, staring at
the ceiling. The events of the past few days
replayed in my mind, each moment vivid and sharp.
I closed my eyes, hoping for some semblance of rest, but the
images wouldn't leave me. The doppelgangers, the ritual,
the fear, it all swirled together in a chaotic Whirlpool
of emotions. Just as I was beginning to drift
off, a faint tapping came from the window.
My heart leapt into my throat and I sat up, my eyes darting to
the dark glass. There, in the pale moonlight,
stood the figure that had haunted my dreams, the
doppelganger, its expression blank, its eyes empty.
It smiled a twisted reflection of my own face and mouthed the
words some of us remember. I bolted upright, my heart
racing as I backed away from the window.
The doppelganger's eyes followed my every movement, its smile
widening in a grotesque parody of my own.
Trembling, I grabbed my phone and dialed Emma's number, my
fingers fumbling over the keys. Emma, it's back, I whispered
urgently. What?
Are you sure? Her voice was filled with a mix
of fear and disbelief. It's right outside my window, I
said, glancing back to see the figure still standing there.
It's eyes locked onto mine. I don't think it's over.
Emma's silence spoke volumes. We need to meet, she finally
said. Now we decided to gather at the
diner, the one place that had become our refuge during this
ordeal. As I drove through the empty
streets, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being
watched, that the shadows were closing in around us.
Emma, Ryan, and Luke were already there when I arrived,
their faces pale and drawn. We sat at our usual booth, the
tension palpable. It's still out there, I said, my
voice barely above a whisper. Emma nodded.
I saw mine, too. We must have missed something.
Luke frowned, his eyes dark with worry.
What do we do now? Ryan leaned forward, his
expression resolute. We need to finish what we
started. There must be another way to
close the door completely. We poured over the book again,
searching for any clues we might have missed as the first light
of dawn began to filter through the diner's windows.
We found it. A final incantation, one that
required a sacrifice, it says here.
Emma read, her voice trembling. That to truly close the door we
must give something up, something important.
Silence fell over us as we each grappled with the weight of
those words. It was Luke who finally spoke.
We have to do it, he said quietly.
Whatever it takes. We drove back to the forest, the
path now familiar but no less daunting.
The air was thick with anticipation as we reach the
clearing once more. We formed a circle around the
symbols, our hands clasped together and began the final
incantation. The air crackled with energy,
the ground beneath us pulsing with power as we chanted.
The doppelgangers appeared at the edge of the clearing, their
eyes filled with a predatory intensity.
But this time we were ready. With a final, desperate surge of
will, we completed the incantation.
The air shimmered and the doppelgangers began to dissolve,
their forms breaking apart and fading into the ether.
The oppressive weight lifted, and for the first time in days I
felt a sense of peace. We stood there, breathing
heavily, the dawn light washing over us.
The door was closed and the darkness had been banished.
But as we left the forest, I knew that the experience had
changed us all. We had faced our darkest fears
and emerged stronger, but the memory of those haunting
reflections would stay with us forever.
As I drove home, I glanced in the rear view mirror one last
time. The forest was behind us, but
the lessons we had learned would stay with us, a reminder of the
thin line between light and darkness and the courage it
takes to face the shadows within.
My brothers Luke and Gabe and I have always loved exploring
nature. Ever since we were kids.
We would go on hikes, bike rides, and camping trips with
our parents. Gabe was the oldest and wisest
among us, while Luke and I were not so much.
Gabe was always the most adventurous.
He loved climbing trees and rocks, not caring how dirty he
got or how many scratches and splinters he received.
One day he took a pretty big tumble from a Rocky Hill, which
earned him a large scar across his forehead.
We enjoyed discovering new places and seeing new things,
and we're always curious and adventurous.
You could say we had a special bond as we shared the same
passion and sense of wonder. But one day everything changed.
Gabe went missing in the woods. The last time we saw him, he
told us he would be exploring a small cave he had found not too
far from a hiking trail in the nearby forest.
Since he was more experienced and mature than us, we didn't
think he would be in any real danger, so we didn't tell our
parents. But the whole day went by and he
still hadn't returned by sunset. At that point, our parents and
we grew worried, so we told them the truth.
They quickly called the police and they began a search and
rescue operation soon after. In the end, they never found
Gabe. It was like he disappeared from
the face of the earth. To this day, Luke and I blame
ourselves for Gabe's disappearance.
If we had just told our parents sooner, maybe the police would
have been able to find Gabe and rescue him.
Because of that, every year on the day he went missing, Luke
and I go cave exploring in his memory.
Many years have passed since his disappearance and we still do it
to this day. One year on the day of his
disappearance, when I was 24 and Luke was 22 years old, we heard
about a cave located deep in the forest near our town, which we
had never visited before. We decided to explore it and
take a look inside, so we packed our backpacks with flashlights,
water, snacks and a first aid kit just to be safe.
We also brought a map and a compass just in case we got
lost. We were feeling pretty down, as
we always feel on this day, but we knew we had to do this for
our brother. We set off early in the morning
riding on mountain bikes to the edge of the forest.
We hid our bikes behind some bushes and followed a trail that
led us into the forest. We walked for about an hour,
enjoying the sights and sounds of the forest.
We saw all kinds of birds and other little animals like
squirrels. The walk was quite peaceful.
Eventually we reached a clearing where we saw a small marking on
a nearby tree that pointed to The Cave.
It was a small opening in the side of a hill covered with
vines and Moss. It looked like a secret passage
at first. We were hesitant to enter
because the opening was small and looked rough around the
edges. Also, the inside of The Cave
seemed pretty dimly lit and wet. However, we eventually decided
to enter The Cave in Gabe's memory.
We pushed aside the vegetation and entered The Cave.
Almost immediately after we entered, we felt a sudden drop
in temperature and a dampness in the air.
We turned on our flashlights and started to explore.
About 10 minutes into our exploration, The Cave started to
get more narrow and winding, with stalactites hanging from
the ceiling and stalagmites rising from the floor.
From time to time we would hear water dripping from the side
walls and pieces of rock falling from the ceiling.
After a few meters, we entered what seemed like the main part
of The Cave. Up to this point, The Cave was
very narrow, but the main room we entered was much wider.
We could even stand up and stretch for a moment.
We saw some bats sleeping on the ceiling.
After resting for 20 minutes, eating our sandwiches and
drinking our favorite energy drink, which rejuvenated us, we
continued our exploration. We came to a fork in The Cave
where two passages diverged. One of them looked very narrow
and seemed to be going nowhere, so in fear of getting stuck, we
decided to take the second one. The second passage didn't seem
much better, but at least we could walk straight.
After some time walking through the passage, we came across a
blockage. It looked like we had reached
some kind of old mine shaft. We wanted to enter and explore
further, but it was blocked by wooden planks at the main
entrance. There was also a sign that said
keep out. Luke and I were in a dilemma.
We didn't know if we should stop here and return home or
continue. We were already very deep inside
The Cave and by continuing we risked getting lost.
After thinking for some time, we decided to go all the way.
We found a large rock nearby and used it to break the wood.
After a few minutes we managed to remove the planks and enter
the passage. It was much darker and colder
than the rest of The Cave and we felt a chill run down our
spines. We continued to walk, hoping to
find something interesting. At the time, we didn't notice
that the passage was sloping downwards, but we did notice one
thing. The air was getting thinner and
starting to smell foul. Extremely foul to the point I
almost threw up, but we continued walking ahead, curious
about what we would find. Our best bet was that an animal
had gotten inside the mine shaft, gotten lost, and starved
to death, and that's what was producing that smell.
As we walked deeper into the passage, we heard a noise coming
from the deeper parts of The Cave ahead of us.
We couldn't quite make out what the noise was, but we carefully
continued onwards. After a few more meters, the
noise became louder and it sounded like very aggressive
breathing. We stopped in our tracks, but it
was already too late. We saw what was making that
noise. In front of us was a pale, thin,
humanoid creature, its eyes sunken into its skull with long,
lanky limbs. It didn't have any clothes on
and had sharp, overgrown fingernails protruding from its
bone like fingers. The most terrifying part of that
thing, however, was its face. It had an unnaturally big mouth
full of sharp teeth, and its creepy yellow eyes looked like
they were staring into our souls.
It was holding a bone in its hand, which it used as a weapon.
It looked like it had been living in The Cave for a long
time, feeding on whatever it could find.
We weren't sure if it could notice our presence or not, but
we were deeply disturbed. We thought about just leaving,
quietly, hoping it wouldn't notice us, but to our horror, it
did. In just a few seconds it lunged
at us, snarling and hissing. It attacked Luke first,
scratching his arm and biting his leg as Luke screamed in
pain. I rushed to help him, but at
that moment I saw something that made the blood in my veins
freeze. I saw its body closer.
It was very scar ridden, and one of those scars reminded me of
Gabe, because the scar on that thing's head looked eerily
similar to his. But I didn't have time to think
about that. I needed to help my brother
Luke. I quickly looked around and
found a large piece of metal. I grabbed it from the ground and
hit the creature as hard as I could on the head.
It fell to the floor and that gave me enough time to help
Luke. I somehow helped him stand up
and we started running away from the creature, but it got up
quickly and charged towards us. I could hear its raggedy breath
as it was running behind us. It was faster than us because of
Luke's injured leg. We dodged its attack and I hit
it again. This time it looked like it was
enough to scare it away, because after I hit it, it started
running back deep inside the mine shaft, disappearing into
the darkness. We didn't know if it was gone
for good or if it would come back with more of its kind, but
we knew one thing. We needed to get out of this
cave as soon as possible. We were terrified.
After running for some time, we reached the main entrance of The
Cave. As I was not a paramedic or a
doctor, I clumsily bandaged Luke's wound as best as I could,
just enough to keep him alive until we got him proper help
from the experts. I helped Luke get on my mountain
bike and I drove us out of those woods.
We never told anyone what happened in The Cave.
We were too scared and ashamed. We didn't want to be laughed at
or called liars. We also didn't want to attract
any attention to The Cave in case the creature came back.
We kept it a secret between us. After that horrifying
experience, we never went cave exploring again.
We just lost our courage. We realized that some things are
better left unknown and untouched.
We decided that we would rather just visit our brother's grave
instead of risking our lives in the caves.
I tried to forget what happened in The Cave, and for the most
part I did. But sometimes I wonder about
that creature. What was it?
Was it human? Are there more of those things
out there? And that scar on its forehead?