I'd been slumped in my squeaky office chair counting the
minutes until the midday heat lost.
Its grip. When the radio crackled on the
desk, one of our volunteers voices, trembled on the other
end asking for immediate backup. They'd spotted smoke rising from
somewhere near the far boundary of our little Desert Park.
Normally suspicious plumes of smoke meant yet another junker
set Ablaze something. We saw off and enough that it
barely rattled me anymore. but the quiver in the volunteers
tone nod at me, something about this situation fell off.
Without waiting for protocol or double checking any sign out
sheets, I grabbed my keys and waved my co-worker Manny over.
We piled into our Dusty truck and took off down the Barren
Road nothing but a shimmer of heat on the horizon.
My mind kept replacing worst case scenarios a wildfire
blazing out of control folks trapped in a gutted vehicle or
maybe something darker. I couldn't fully process yet.
The desert seemed too quiet as we sped toward the site.
Normally I'd catch glimpses of desert hairs, scuttling across
the road or a hawk circling overhead.
Not this time, the entire Place felt as if it was bracing for
bad news. Manny fiddled with the radio,
trying to reach the volunteers again, but all we got was static
laced with muffled crackles. Each burst of static made me
grip the steering wheel tighter. We rounded a bend and spotted
thicks smoke curling into the sky.
That acrid scent of burned rubber and metal practically
tore through the trucks ventilation.
We pulled up tires crunching on gravel and the volunteers waved
us over their faces drained of color.
I stepped out and got an immediate Taste of heat.
So intense at felt like a furnace blast.
The car in question was more of a scorched.
Metal skeleton at this point, the Flames mostly dying down,
but leaving behind angry black fumes.
Manny and I exchanged uneasy glances.
We dealt with torched Vehicles before the eaves often.
Dumped them after stripping out valuable Parts.
But as we edged closer, something caught my eye through
the shattered driver's side window.
It looked like a large lump leaning against the steering
wheel. I tried convincing myself.
It was just a mass of melted upholstery.
Stepping around for a clearer look.
I discovered it was definitely not just a ruined seat.
My stomach dropped, I found myself staring at the remains of
a person, the body blackened, and distorted features
impossible to make out. The door handle had melted in
places and the Rope. Yes, rope had fused to the
metal. This wasn't a simple joy, ride
gone wrong. Someone had brought this car
here, found the person inside and shot them before.
Setting. The entire thing of flame, the
fight pressed down on me suffocating like the desert
itself was turning hostile. Many rushed back to the truck to
call for proper backup. As we stood by the smoke coiled
in the sky. Trailing a pungent odor that
clung to my clothes time seemed to grind to a halt while we
waited. One of the volunteers hovered
near me stammering about how they initially assumed.
The car was just another stolen husk until they peered into the
driver's seat. I remember scanning the area
paranoid about a possible suspect lurking in the brush.
Maybe watching us from behind a tumbleweed, the fire department,
eventually roared in dowsing, the smoldering wreck sending up
fresh plumes of steam. Then the police arrived setting
up a perimeter with that familiar yellow tape.
I tried to focus on small details.
Like half burned food wrappers on the ground and the bullet
holes scarring, the frame How many shots were fired was the
victim alive when they were bound?
I hated how my own thoughts drifted into morbid territory,
but I needed to gather facts. If I ever wanted to sleep again.
Hours slipped by as investigators, combed through
the ashes taking pictures, bagging up scraps of rope.
I noticed Manny in a corner staring silently at the wreck.
He'd told me once that he was used to Gore from a past job,
but even he looked shaken. What we found here wasn't just
violence, it was cruelty. Eventually the sight was labeled
secure and the authorities sent us on our way.
We left behind a few sheriff's deputies to maintain the
perimeter until forensic could finish up.
As Manny and I drove back, The Sky Had bled into a deep
sun-scorched Orange. My head swam with everything
we'd witnessed. The volunteers wide and jittery
followed in their own car, still reeling from the realization.
That the scene they'd stumbled upon was so much worse than
they'd feared By the time we reach the station, a rumor was
already circulating about the haunted site.
Word travels fast in small circles and folks, around here
can't resist a good ghost story. I overheard someone joking about
how it had probably become the Park's most sought after camping
spot. Visitors love a grim Legend.
But there was nothing amusing in the images.
Still stuck in my head, the scorched seat, the Twisted rope
that unrecognizable form in the driver's seat.
I tried distracting myself with trivial tasks, sorting gear,
scribbling meaningless notes, on my next shifts to do list,
Nothing helped. Deep down.
I knew I wouldn't forget what I saw that day.
The desert had always been harsh but I had never thought it could
be so merciless. And we still had no clue who
that poor person was or why they ended up on that lonely stretch
of sand. That night insomnia, took hold.
All I could do was stare at the ceiling replaying, the stench of
scorched metal and flesh the hush of onlookers, two rattled
to speak. My mind refused to drift
anywhere else. instead it clung to the notion that something or
someone was out there, ready to do it again, if they felt like
it, For the first time since I started this job, the wide-open
desert didn't look like a place of freedom.
It felt like a place you go to bury your secrets, the kind that
should never see daylight. I was still reeling from the
scorched car and the horrifying discoveries tied to it.
When we got another call that sent the station into a near
panic. Our supervisor, usually, the
picture of calm was on the phone voice tight.
A man on the line threatened to end, everything claimed, he had
a stash of guns, He spat out coordinates that placed him
right on The Fringe of our territory.
I remember standing in the office radio in hand waiting to
be dispatched my mind already leaping to Dreadful scenarios.
Was I about to come across another scene as horrific as
that burned out husk. The cubicle Farm Chief tried to
keep the man on the line, but he was raving about regret.
About how he had no where else to go?
That he wanted the desert to swallow him up.
My co-worker Parker and I exchanged glances.
We both knew we were going out their protocol.
Demanded it no matter how unqualified we felt for a crisis
involving a potentially armed individual.
We piled into the same Dusty truck.
I driven to the charred vehicle days earlier.
The sun was glaring, overhead, and everything in the desert.
Looked bleached Barren, Parker fiddled with the radio trying to
get more updates. But the chatter was fragmented.
We heard that another Ranger outfit had arrived first, so we
sped up hoping they'd managed to talk the man down.
A pit in my stomach. Worned me.
The outcome might be far from my deal as we approached the
coordinates. We spotted a couple of trucks
from that other agency, parked at a crooked angle.
One of their Rangers, stood by raising a hand in a universal
signal that basically said, keep your distance.
We eased off the gas and rolled to a stop.
I could feel a wave of dread pulsing from the group in front
of us. I hopped out scanning the desert
for any sign of movement. The other agencies, Ranger a
woman who looked like she barely slept walked over.
Her expression was a mask of grief as though, she'd lived
through this nightmare before. She whispered that the man we
were looking for, had followed through with his threat, but
hadn't perished instantly. He'd shot himself.
Then staggered aways leaving behind a heartbreaking trail of
blood until he finally collapsed that knowledge.
Hit me like a weight on my chest.
While Parker stayed back with the truck.
I inched forward to where the sand turned darker.
Another Ranger was kneeling there, shaking his head radio in
hand. I couldn't see the man's body
directly. It was behind some rocks, but
the hush from everyone present, told me I didn't want to It made
me think of the new ranger standing off to the side.
Hugging her own arms, word around the station was that
she'd lost her husband, a fellow Ranger to the same fate not long
ago. And she was face-to-face with
another self-inflicted tragedy. The parallels must have cut her
deeper than words could describe.
Parker came up behind me asked if we should offer help do
anything at all. The other outfits lead Rangers
shook her head. She said they had it under
control though, her tired eyes suggested, otherwise, they told
us to leave. So we wouldn't be buried in
Endless. Paperwork officially, it was a
matter for local law enforcement to finalize.
We lingered, unsure of our place ultimately, we retreated back to
our truck guilt and sadness, trailing behind us, driving
away, felt surreal. The interior of the truck was
baking from the Sun, but I was shivering inside grappling with
the idea that these desert Parks.
I once loved had turned into a stage for human despair.
The further we got from that scene, the more the days bright
Sky, turned into a punishing glare as if the desert itself
was tired of witnessing such sorrow.
Back at the station, the combination of the burned car
and the terrible, Discovery weight on the mood.
It was, as if the walls themselves had absorbed the
grimness. I heard hushed conversations in
the hall. People whispering about how the
desert had always attracted Wanderers.
How some folks came here for a spiritual rebirth While others
sought an escape. Unable to take the tension, I
decided to do something drastic. After my shift, I drive out to
one of our closed parks for some midnight.
Stargazing I figured maybe Solitude and A Sky Full of
meteors could help me. Remember the deserts Beauty.
Give me a reason to breathe easier.
And for some odd reason, I packed my banjo I'm no musician,
but strumming, a few off-key courts had a calming effect I
needed. Under the cover of Darkness, I
navigated the winding roads leading to a park that had been
closed to the public for the offseason. 30 miles of emptiness
stretched by me. Not a single car light in sight.
I pulled up to a rusted picnic table, near the border of a
dried up. Wash the overhead firmament
Ablaze with more stars than I had seen in years.
I climbed onto the table banjo resting, awkwardly in my lap.
Each chord, I played sounded tinny in the open space and a
breeze. Carried the notes away
scattering them across the desert.
At first, I found a small measure of Peace in that rhythm.
Plonk plonk, squeak a laugh at my own poor skills.
Then my imagination flared images of charred rope, bullet
holes, and that empty-eyed Ranger discovering, another
unspeakable, seen doubts, crowded my head.
This place suddenly felt like a Proving Ground for every dark
possibility. I glanced at the Horizon
wondering, if a stranger with bad intentions.
Lurked out. There.
Hidden in the shadows. Memories of the Haunted site,
Flickr through my mind. Why had I chosen to be alone yet
again? Where night could hide anything
or anyone? Annoys shattered.
My thoughts. Quick muffled sounds in the
brush accompanied by what almost resembled Whispers.
My chest felt tight and I paused banjo string still vibrating
from the last chord. Something or someone was moving
in the darkness, not even trying to be subtle.
My eyes struggle to focus scanning the shrubs for a shape
human animal. Or Worse.
Those high-pitched. Murmurs Drew nearer.
Punctuated by rustling leaves. I braced for some Twisted
confrontation. Maybe it was a group of drifters
or local troublemakers. Who'd come upon me by chance.
My pulse hammered, and every nerve wanted me to dash back to
the truck. Suddenly three, coyotes burst
from the undergrowth, they Yip and scampered.
Like they owned the place giving me barely a passing glance as
they streaked by my heart, nearly jumped out of my throat.
In that moment, a bizarre mix of shock and relief.
When their dark Silhouettes merged with the distant night.
I stood there, blinking banjo clutched in a trembling grip.
I couldn't help chuckling at my own paranoia.
But a heavier, realization sank in. these desert creatures
roamed confidently, oblivious to my presence, and the nightmares
people bring They were not weighed down by haunted
campsites or heartbreak in the sand.
This place was theirs and I was just an interloper.
I put the banjo away the final notes of my attempt at
stargazing Fading Into memory. Driving back.
I kept hearing those coyotes in my head, their wild Carefree
calls echoing across the dunes, a stark contrast to the human
tragedies, we'd witnessed Looking at the vacant road
ahead, illuminated by my weak headlights.
The desert didn't seem lifeless anymore.
It was alive in a raw, indifferent, way capable of
Hosting scenes of Cruelty sadness, and awe, But the fear
clung to me nonetheless reminding me?
That while the coyotes found Freedom out here, I was the one
haunted by what we'd seen, no matter how many stars lit the
sky or how many chords. I strum I couldn't outrun that
uneasy feeling that more trouble could be lurking, just beyond
the next stretch of desert. I woke up early or than I needed
to buzzing with anticipation for the day ahead.
We piled into the car, my wife in the passenger seat and our
dog happily perched in the back. Her nose pressed against the
window as if she couldn't wait to hop onto the trail.
Once we reached the parking area, the light was still,
gentle filtering through the leaves in a way that made
everything look bright and full of promise.
I'd heard stories about this waterfall for years, how crowds
flocked there to Snap photos and waited in the pool below.
Part of me preferred quieter places.
But as we started walking, I couldn't help but enjoy the hum
of other hikers kids running couples laughing.
The Casual Clank of water bottles and backpacks.
It all felt safe like some big outdoor Gathering The trail
leading to the waterfall was wide and well-worn.
Our dog led the way ears pricked and tail wagging so hard.
I thought she might Propel herself off the ground.
Every so often she'd paused to sniff at a suspicious looking
rock or patch of moss. I couldn't help but laugh when
she stared down a squirrel that chattered back at her from a
brand. Once we reached the waterfall,
the scene looked like something out of a nature documentary.
Sunlight, caught the spray creating a faint rainbow right
where the water thundered into the pool below.
Families were splashing ignoring the chill of the water, and the
air was full of the sounds of excited voices.
My wife suggested, we take a quick break and dip our toes.
But I was itching to explore farther.
Something about heading beyond the popular spots.
Seemed to peeling I wanted to find a slice of wilderness away
from the noise. We started climbing a narrow
path that snaked around the waterfall.
Leaving the others behind it was a bit of a scramble and we had
to watch our footing on The Damp Stones.
My wife joked about how each step took us further from cell
phone reception At one point, we paused on a Ledge overlooking
the falls. The people below looked so small
like tiny figures and an illustration, their shouts and
laughter reduced to muffled Echoes.
That barely reached us up ahead. The trail dipped into a denser
section of forest, the canopy overhead grew thicker.
Letting in only thin ribbons of sunlight that flickered on the
ground. It got quieter too.
I remember noticing how the sound of the waterfall faded
behind us and the dominant noise was our dog's panting mixed with
the crunch of our boots. I glanced at my wife.
She was soaking in the scenery looking a bit weary but still
eager for the adventure. Something about that transition
from the cheerful chatter at the base of the waterfall to the
Stillness under looming branches made me strangely vigilant Not
exactly scared but definitely more aware of every twig and
route. The air felt different too
cooler. Maybe a little heavier.
Our dog oblivious to my sudden watchfulness tugged forward
following, invisible sense that seemed all important to her
canine knows. I tried to shake off any doubts
reminding myself that we'd hiked plenty of times before without
incident. But as the path narrowed and
more Shadows draped over us, I couldn't deny a slight Edge
creeping into my mood. My wife, tossed me a look that
suggested. She felt it too, though.
Neither of us said it out loud. The plan was to enjoy a quiet
Trek. And for the most part, it still
was Trees, Rose High all around the undergrowth damp from recent
rain. We pressed on coaxed by the
thought of a secluded Viewpoint or maybe a hidden pool.
We could call our own Yet, every step took us further from the
easy security of the crowd at the base.
At some point, my wife asked if I heard any birds, that's when
we both realized they'd either gone silent or we'd left them
behind the hush and the forest almost deliberate like the
entire place was holding onto Secrets.
It didn't want to share even then our dog seemed happy as
ever bounding along in her own world full of curiosity.
Neither of us had the heart to turn around with the day still
wide open in front of us. Besides a voice in my head
insisted there was nothing to worry about eventually, we found
ourselves on a slight incline. The trail twisting between thick
trunks. We were well out of sight for
anyone else. I paused to catch my breath.
Glancing back to confirm, we hadn't lost our bearings.
My wife set a hand on my shoulder her expression
somewhere between excitement and concern.
Our dog barked once somehow it echoed more than it should have.
Then she continued sniffing around tail, wagging.
I thought we were alone out there free to discover parts of
the forest few others bothered to see.
Little did I know the sense of calm would vanish soon enough?
If I had guessed what was coming, I might have insisted we
turn around then. And there though, I doubt I
could have convinced our dog to leave while she was still so
curious and upbeat. We were stepping deeper into
territory that felt Untouched by the crowds.
I should have understood. That untouched doesn't always
mean safe. I couldn't pinpoint the exact
moment, the forest shifted from peaceful to unnerving but it
happened fast. one minute, our dog was happily patting along
the narrow Trail nose in the dirt tail wagging, the next she
froze, her leash jerked in my hands so abruptly that I nearly
stumbled I stopped short scanning the trees for any sign
of movement. My wife stood, a few Paces
behind me, Breathing heavily. And the only sound I caught was
the rush of blood in my ears. The path ahead looked
unremarkable, just more Tangled, roots and thick undergrowth.
But our dog's body language was unmistakable.
Her legs were locked. Stiff and a quiet wine escaped
her. She refused to move forward
pulling at the leash so forcefully that I worried she'd
slip out of her collar. I whispered her name, coaxing
her, like I might have frightened child, she took a
half step backward, I still locked on whatever.
Lay-up ahead, my wife came closer, her voice hushed.
We exchanged a look that said, this isn't just a dog being
stubborn. Something's not right.
Time felt distorted the silence, carried a strange weight
pressing down on us as we tried to decide what to do next.
I strained to pick up any sound. Whether it was a twig snapping
or under brush Russell, Nothing. No sense of a bear.
Rummaging know, Telltale scuffle of smaller animals darting away.
It was that total absence of noise that unhinged me.
Our dog. Let out a trembling wine and I
realized she was actively. Tugging us back the way we'd
come. She'd never acted like this
before. Usually she is the one urging
us. Onward tail flapping like a
banner of confidence. Something.
Unseen had spooked her in a way. I had no desire to challenge.
My wife murmured, we should head back and I couldn't disagree
though a part of me wanted just one Glimpse to confirm if there
really was anything or anyone in that Darkness.
My curiosity, didn't stand a chance against the look in my
dog's eyes. She was petrified and the longer
we lingered. The more I felt a subtle Panic
building. We had no guarantee what might
happen if we pressed on. The forest had somehow
transformed into an alien Place one that felt predatory in its
silence. I gave my wife a slight nod and
we both carefully turned around doing our best, not to make
sudden movements. Our dog practically dragged us
downhill as though the path behind us was the only place she
trusted. My pulse galloped faster than my
legs could carry me and I couldn't shake the creeping
sense that we were being watched.
Each step away felt like escaping some hidden threat.
We had no business confronting Within a few minutes, we caught
the faint Roar of the waterfall again.
Relief. Mingled with lingering dread as
we recognize that familiar sound.
A trickle of hikers was visible in the distance.
A group of teenagers chatting loudly a family toting beach
towels. Normal life, existed, only a
short distance from where we'd been.
Meanwhile, I half expected to glance over my shoulder and see
someone or something peering through the trees, when our dog,
finally, relaxed enough to trot with her usual bounce.
I let out a shaky breath. My wife and I exchanged only
brief words, neither wanting to voice the heavy questions
rattling in our minds. Where we simply paranoid or had
we been a few steps away from something far worse.
As we made our way back to the packed parking area.
The mood among the day. Hikers felt almost jarring
laughter and idle chatter floated around oblivious to the
quiet horror, we escaped. I tried to convince myself.
The forest beyond the waterfall. Was just an ordinary stretch of
wilderness. But every time I looked at my
dog, I remembered how intensely she tried to pull us out.
On some level. I knew we'd never hiked that
section. The same way again, the memories
were now. Stamped with a kind of dread I
couldn't quite Shake. An echo of a close call with
something. I never even got the chance to
see. I pulled off the dusty Highway
into Big Bend with a plan. So ordinary, it almost felt
naive in hindsight. Get a few Scenic shots of Santa
Elena Canyon. Maybe find some Wildlife tracks
to photograph and then settle in for the night.
You'd think after all my years, guiding in the outdoors, I'd
have been prepared for every possibility but as I eased My
Van Into that rough parking lot near the canyon, the quiet
pressed in on me like a heavy blanket of dry air.
It was that specific hush that you sometimes.
Get in the desert. The kind that makes you question
your own breathing. Stepping out.
I noticed the sign that read Trailhead, though.
The wooden plank looked like, it had seen better days.
In front of me the canyon walls, soared upward dark Silhouettes
against the late afternoon sky. The sun hung low casting oblong
Shadows, that seemed to stretch and twist across the ground.
A park ranger's SUV had passed me about an hour before, and the
ranger mentioned, something about unusual Wildlife activity
in the area. At the time, I brushed It Off.
Sometimes they like to keep visitors on their toes.
Still I felt unsettled I took a swig from my water jug, trying
to shake the tension humming in my thoughts.
A few hundred meters from the van.
The trail was nothing more than patches of rock and shrubs
scattered in the dry soil. Occasionally dotted with desert
flowers that thrived in the unlikeliest conditions.
This part of Big Bend was Infamous for the Rio Grande's
shifting flow, especially lately.
I'd heard talk about drought in irrigation issues so I wondered
how wide the river would actually be.
The moment I left side of my van, it felt as though the land
had, its focus fixed on me. Every step I took seemed
magnified. My boots scraped loose gravel
with each move, creating a rasp that made me jumpy more than
once. I stopped in glanced over my
shoulder. Swearing.
I heard something behind me, though.
Nothing ever appeared telling myself.
It was just nerves, didn't calm the titaness in my chest.
As I approached the canyon mouth.
The Grandeur of the rock walls made me forget my worries for
just a second. The layered Stone was ancient
implacable. Sunlight caught in the Crags.
Illuminating specs of dust that floated in the air.
I was here to capture that Majesty for my presentation but
part of me just wanted to stand there.
Soaking in the bizarre mix of awe and foreboding.
I was about to frame, my first shot, when a flicker of movement
across the Rio Grande, stopped me cold.
At first, it looked like a large shape slithering across the
ground, something lying on its side pushing forward.
My mind tried to fit it into any logical category, but nothing
made sense. I shuffled a little closer to
get a clearer line of sight. That's when I realized it was a
mountain lion. Not just any mountain lion.
This thing was enormous easily bigger than any cat had
witnessed in the wild before. Its fur was the dull tan of a
white tail deer which was probably why I missed took it at
first glance. It crept low.
Moving with effortless Grace as if gravity barely had a hold on
it I felt my breath catch. I'd read stories about Big Ben's
big cats but reading is nothing like seeing one up close.
The cat seemed locked onto something.
Behind a scrubby tangle of brush.
Maybe a jack rabbit or a stray deer, or it might have been
stalking, something else entirely I couldn't see for a
moment. I was mesmerized by how smoothly
a glided over the dirt, nearly silent every muscle coiled in
readiness. Then it turned its head and
stared right at me my insides Twisted.
I'd never quite understood the phrase Predators gaze until that
instant its eyes were bright reflecting the last rays of
sunlight. And in them I saw a trace of
calculation like it was deciding if I was worth the trouble.
The river separated us, but the water was shallow, shallow
enough. That Crossing wouldn't have been
too hard this desperation or curiosity.
Spurred it. I didn't know if I should look
away or maintain eye contact. Some part of my brain warned
that running might trigger a Chase reflux.
And I wasn't keen on testing that theory.
So, I just stood there camera in hand feeling the weight of
Primal panics settle in my stomach.
My feet shifted automatically stepping backward at a
painstakingly slow pace. The cat's ears flicked and it
glanced toward whatever it had been stalking.
Then it's attention. Came back to me.
In that second or two, I felt every nerve in my body
tightened, bracing for the worst.
Would it plunged into the river and come straight for me?
My pulse hammered, as I ready to bolt.
If it decided I looked easier to catch than its original Target.
But either the water was too wide or I just didn't appear to
be worth the risk. The cats gaze.
Lingard, one more heartbeat than it.
Swiveled away. I could almost imagine it
sighing and annoyance, like I was a distraction, it didn't
have time for I seized the opportunity with shaky hands, I
inched back. A few more steps then turned and
hurried along the path. Glancing over my shoulder with
every stride. I have expected to glimpse a
Tawny shape bounding up behind me instead, all I got was the
monotonous hush of a desert evening.
By the time I made it back to the van my entire body buzzed
from an adrenaline overload, the sun hung even lower bleeding
colors across the sky, and Brilliant oranges and reds.
Stunning, if not for the dreads still.
Tightening my nerves. Leaning against the side of the
van. I gulped down water trying to
steady myself part of me wanted to leave right.
Then in there yet the other part of me refused to bail on the
reason I'd come all the way. This was Big Ben.
After all, people came here for rugged unpredictable
experiences, but there was a difference between seeking
adventure and tempting fate Standing there in the gloaming.
I felt the deserts Gaze on me again.
Maybe I imagined it or maybe something out in the scrubland
was actually watching. Either way, I realized I'd
crossed a boundary. This wasn't a casual nature hike
anymore. I threw my camera and gear into
the back of the van Hart, still thudding and decided to push
deeper into that uneasy realm of Twisted, canyons and lurking
predators. Sometimes you have no choice but
to face the wild, especially when you've already caught its
attention. I left that makeshift Trailhead
quicker than I care to admit the last of the sun dipping below,
the Peaks behind me. All day, I had been to take
pictures and soak in the desert grandeur.
But after locking eyes with that massive cat reality felled
harsher. My heart was still thudding from
the close call and the temperature seemed to drop fast
like the park itself was telling me to get my act together.
I headed down the main road scanning for a campsite that had
been mentioned by a ranger early.
Supposedly, it wasn't more than a few miles away, just a dirt.
Pull off with a fire ring and a pit toilet.
Typical Big Ben to accommodations really while I
drove the Horizon bled from Orange to Deep Purple and the
entire desert faded into a dark tapestry, where every Rock and
Bush turned into ambiguous shapes, that could be anything
or anyone. I kept glancing in the rearview
mirror half expecting to see that lion bounding after me eyes
reflecting in the Headlights. When I finally spotted, the
campsite sign, it was practically Pitch.
Black Only one other vehicle was around a tiny sedan that looked
about his out of place as a city car could be out here.
Their tent was zipped up tight, no, sign of movement that left
me alone with my thoughts. After parking, I cracked open
the van door and stepped onto the rocky, ground, flash, light
in hand. The glow revealed, a circle of
scattered stones in a gnarly old Mesquite tree.
Every shift of the wind rustle, the branches.
Making them scraped together in a sound that had me on edge
between that and the days. Adrenaline Spike, I was feeling
jumpy. I rummaged around the van for
some stale Oreos, and a water bottle, figuring a tiny bit of
comfort food. Might call my nerves, didn't
help much, my ears were primed for any unusual noise, and soon
enough I got one a distant rasping scream, echoing across
the desert. I nearly dropped my flash light.
It was that distinct caterwaul? I'd read about the kind cougars
make when they call or fight a noise somewhere between a
screech and a howl. Hearing it in the dead of night.
Knowing a cat was closed, made my stomach churn.
I tried to tell myself that the cat was probably miles away that
the rocky terrain distorted sounds.
Maybe it was hunting something far off and I was safe behind
the metal walls of my van but I couldn't shrug off the memory of
those golden eyes. Sizing Me Up, Just hours
earlier. I found myself leaning against
the van door, scanning the darkness for any flicker of
movement, half convinced, I'd spot that sinewy shapes stalking
around the campsite it's funny how your body can be dead tired,
but your mind refuses to rest. I had been fighting a
respiratory bug for days so I finally relented and dug out a
bottle of Nyquil. Normally, I avoid it like the
plague because it can make me hallucinate if I'm overtired but
that night I just wanted to knock out and forget what I had
seen. I gulped a dose chased it with
lukewarm water and crawled into my sleeping bag in the back of
the van, hoping for Oblivion, if there's one thing I know for
sure, it's that NyQuil dreams. Hit me like a freight train
within minutes. My thoughts began swirling into
bizarre shapes every swirl of the wind outside, turned into a
scuttling presence creeping closer.
In my half Lucid State. I imagined claws scraping
against the Vans exterior. The big cats breathing just
inches away. I could almost feel its gaze
tracking me through the thin metal.
My mind painted Vivid images of a massive paw pounding on the
window. A flash of teeth in the
Moonlight. It was so detailed.
I practically smelled the cat's breath on the night air.
I must have dozed off though because the next thing I
remember is jolting awake at what I guessed was around three
in the morning. My throat burned.
And for a second, I wasn't sure where I was.
I lurched upright, my mind still Tangled in the dream.
Headlights. Know it was the moon.
Casting weird shapes on the horizon.
Making the jagged mountain peaks look like crouching beasts.
I must have thought it was the lion because all of a sudden I
realized I was shouting loud, incoherent, cries that carried
through the silent campsite a flash light flickered from the
other ten, a beam slicing the darkness.
The occupant probably wondered if I was being attacked.
My own chest felt tight, like, I'd been sprinting.
I fumbled for the Vans door handle but pause when I realized
I might accidentally let something inside.
The confusion and mortification clashed in my head.
Eventually I managed to crack the door.
Open just enough to peer out. No lion, no giant cat, just a
gnarled landscape warped By Moonlight, the wind towed with
me whistling through the Canyons, making a noise that
sent another shiver through my nerves.
Footsteps, crunched outside. The other camper approached
calling out, are you okay over there as they Shone a beam in my
direction? I wanted to apologize to say it
was just the NyQuil messing with me but the words came out in a
jumble. Something like I catch, sorry.
Thought until I finally managed to week, I am fine.
They hesitated probably unsure whether to believe me then
asked, if I needed water or help.
I stammered a quick thanks. But insisted I was good and they
retreated though, I could sense they were not fully convinced.
After that, my heart wouldn't slow.
I tried lying back down but every time my eyes closed, I
pictured the massive cat again, those midnight screams, echoing
behind my ears. so, I propped myself in the driver's seat arms
folded, tight, headlights pointed out toward the open
desert, I started the engine just for the comfort of hearing
it purr and turned it off again, not wanting to waste fuel.
The hours crawled every now, and then I'd catch a flicker of
movement in the distance. Could have been a fox, a coyote
or just my imagination. But my nerves sparked like live
wires braced for a pounce that never came.
By the time, Dawn's Pale Light crept, Over the Horizon.
I was exhausted the burning orange raised, weird elongated
Shadows across the campsite and everything that had loomed so
large in the dark now seems small and harmless.
Climbing out of the van. I did a quick sweep of the area,
half expecting to find fresh, paw prints, circling the
vehicle. I couldn't see any definitive
tracks but I did notice some indistinct Impressions near a
cluster of rocks could have been javelina, could have been
nothing. Still it left me uneasy, I
packed up my gear. In a hurry, the events of the
night. Weighing heavily on me.
The other camper waved to polite to mention my half coherent
Outburst. I tried to flash a friendly grin
and ended up giving something that probably looked like a
grimace. The terror of that cat
encounter, wasn't fading, it was like, it had imprinted itself on
my psyche, reminding me how quickly things can turn.
As I revved the Vans engine and pulled away a wave of relief,
washed over me at the thought of leaving that haunted spot
behind. Yet, the raw Wonder of Big Ben
still tugged at me. There were more photos, I wanted
more Vistas I needed for my presentation, but as the road
unfurled ahead, I couldn't shake one echoing lesson.
Out here where nothing but potential prey in a world.
Ruled by creatures and forces, we can't control.
And that memory, the golden eyes peering across the river.
Appraising me under a Setting Sun.
Well, that's the kind of thing. You don't forget. not if you're
lucky enough to survive it, I drove out to the Forest right
around the end of September figuring.
I'd snag one last Pieceful weekend, before the weather
turned bitter. The spot.
I chose wasn't anywhere special on a map.
Just a little clearing. I'd stumbled upon a year before.
It was small surrounded by tall trees.
Whose leaves were just starting to shift to that deep red and
golden hue. I remember thinking how gorgeous
everything looked under. That gentle Autumn sunlight. it
put me at ease in a way only the outdoors can the first afternoon
passed without a hitch. I pitched my tent gathered, some
firewood and listened to the distant calls of birds I
couldn't name. The air felt cool but not cold
and my meal by the fire. Tasted like a million bucks.
As dusks settled, nothing seemed strange.
The usual nighttime, Forest soundtrack.
Lulled me into a dreamless sleep but the next morning something
seemed off. It wasn't anything, I could
pinpoint at first. I woke up to the sun peeking
through branches. And for a moment, everything
fell in Normal. Then I realized I was too jumpy.
My eyes kept drifting from the coffee.
I was trying to make back into the tree line, like I was
expecting to catch someone staring back.
No reason to be spooked yet. Every step I took felt heavier.
After breakfast, I found myself wandering into the forest.
I hadn't planned on a big hike, but there was this odd
compulsion. Like the trees were inviting me
in. That's the best way I can
describe it. I didn't consciously decide time
for a walk, my feet just sort of led.
The way the further I went, the more I realized that this wasn't
part of my usual exploring. I couldn't recall seeing the
arrangement of trunks and undergrowth.
I was now passing through. Then I noticed something that
rattled me more than any grunt of a wild animal ever, could a
perfectly smooth rectangular slab lying on the ground.
It was glossy reflecting the weak sunlight despite a carpet
of leaves all around. I couldn't see a single scratch
on it or even a patch of moss. When you've camped a lot, you
know how quickly nature, reclaims anything left.
Unattended. So how was this thing?
So spotless? Instinct said I should go back
but curiosity got the better of me.
I edged closer trying not to snap any Twigs on her foot.
The slab reminded me of a grave marker that had fallen over
except there was no carving, No one graving, and it had no
business being out here. This wasn't some, well trotted
path. Nobody else was around for
miles. At least nobody.
I'd seen. As I stood there, a weird
heaviness took over my thoughts, like I'd wandered into a part of
the forest that didn't want me. Even though my tent was maybe 30
feet behind me, I felled unanchored.
Like I had lost my bearings in a matter of seconds.
I forced myself to glance back and there it was my bright red
tent, still in sight. So I wasn't lost not literally
but every sense in my body told me, I wasn't where I thought I
was. Then it happened a rush of air
so cold, I nearly lost my breath.
The trees, stayed completely still leaves on the ground.
Didn't move an inch. Before I could process that a
thunderous crack exploded through the area.
It was a single deafening. Hit echoing out in every
direction. My ears rang.
And when the echo faded I looked up and realized it wasn't after
noon anymore. The sun was dipping low casting
Long Shadows across the forest floor.
One moment it had been maybe three in the afternoon.
Now it was late hours had blinked by and I had no clue how
the slab was gone in its place was just a patch of leaf strewn
Earth that was enough to jolt me out of my trance.
Every step back to Camp felt like something or someone was
closing in around me but I couldn't see a thing.
Once I reached my tent, I fumbled for my flash light even
though there was still a hint of daylight left rationally, I knew
trying to hike out of the Forest, right?
Then was risky, Darkness was settling into fast and I was too
frazzled to navigate unfamiliar terrain.
So I told myself, I'd hold out until morning.
No matter how unsettling the night would be.
And unsettling. Doesn't begin to describe it.
I hurried back to my tent telling myself.
I just needed to last until morning.
I kept repeating that. Thought trying to stay calm, but
my nerves were fraying. The air outside was thick with
silence. No, gentle rustling, no distant
bird calls. It was as though the forest had
gone mute on purpose. Like, I had crossed a threshold
into someplace. I was never meant to tread
inside the tent, I flicked on my flashlight, a bunch of times,
making sure it's still worked because the last thing I wanted
was to be left in total darkness, if the batteries fail,
each flicker of that beam, cast weird shadows against the tent
fabric, normally the soft glow from inside, your shelter, feels
comforting, but right then it felt like a beak in advertising
my location to whatever was lurking around.
Time dragged. My watch read barely after
Sunset but it might as well have been midnight.
Eventually I forced myself to lie, down thinking maybe I could
at least rest my eyes and wait out the terror.
That plan fell apart, almost immediately.
A strange rumbling noise drifted in from somewhere beyond the
thin walls of my tent. At first, I thought it was
distant Thunder. But then I realized it had a
rolling quality like someone exhaling in a low Gravely whom
it reminded me. Disturbingly of snoring, I held
my breath straining to figure out.
If I was imagining it, then it came again, slow and deep
punctuated by a faint rasp. it sounded close one moment farther
away the next That unsettled me more than anything else because
I could picture whatever was making that noise circling
around my campsite. I had been on enough camping
trips to know how animals move usually accompanied by crunching
leaves or snapping Twigs, but this was different.
There was no Shuffle of pause, no breathy snort, just that
slow, rhythmic Rumble. Trying to call my thoughts.
I told myself maybe a bear was betting down for the night, but
the complete absence of any other sounds that might teeth on
edge. Animals Russell or snort or
grunt as they settle, they don't just hover in the Gloom making a
solitary snore like noise. And how could it possibly be
floating around my camp like that.
One second, it was to my left the next directly behind me.
Though behind meant the thin nylon wall of my tent might be
all that separated us. I was too terrified to unzip the
door and look. I clutched my flashlight, but it
felt useless. What was I going to do?
Shine a beam and some enormous creatures face and hope it got
scared. Every minute seemed to stretch
turning into an hour of me lying there.
Barely breathing listening to that rasping sound Shuffle
around. Occasionally it paused
completely and a thick silence fell.
Those pauses made my nerves Spike because I couldn't tell
whether it was gone or just watching waiting.
Sleep was impossible. My eyes were gritty from
exhaustion. But every time I lived the noise
started up again, jerking me away.
I remember, mentally begging the sky to start lightening up.
Dawn felt like salvation that might never come.
It was the worst waiting game of my life too Paralyzed by dread
to move two on edge to sleep. Sometime near morning, maybe a
half hour before actual Sunrise, the snoring tapered off and
vanished in a heartbeat. That sudden quiet felt somehow
even more menacing with the flashlight clutched in my hand,
I listened for any hint of movement, a twig, snap a branch
Creek, anything. Nothing.
It was like the forest was trying to pretend it hadn't just
been invaded by something deeply unnatural When the first beams
of daylight finely filtered through, I wasted no time.
My hands were trembling, as I packed up my ears.
Hyper attuned. To every rustle in the brush.
The entire forest was still unnerving.
It took me a fraction of the time it normally would to break
down my campsite stuff. My gear Any, Which Way?
And haul it on my back? That walkout was pure attention.
Each step on the trail made me feel like I was trespassing in a
domain that didn't welcome Outsiders.
The trees which had seemed so beautiful when I arrived now,
seemed to loom overhead, like silent onlookers.
Occasionally I whipped my head around convinced.
Something was about to bolt from behind a trunk and block my way.
Of course, nothing did at least nothing, I could see by the time
I reached the first signs of civilization a beaten Gravel
Road that led back to my parked vehicle.
My shoulders were knotted up and my mind was a scrambled mess of
questions. I glanced back only once, half
expecting to catch a glimpse of that polished slab again or at
least some hint of a shape slinking through the woods.
But all I saw were the same Autumn trees standing in Eerie
Stillness. I didn't feel safe until I was
behind the wheel engine running and speeding away from that
area. Whatever had occurred out there.
Had no explanation I could wrap my head around.
One moment time vanished, like I had been ripped out of reality.
The next I was stuck in a tense, vigil, listening to something
that shouldn't exist. I wish I could say my mind, let
it go after that. But the memory clung to me,
those vanished hours, the silent Watchers among the trunks that
bizarre breathing in the Darkness.
It stayed with me. Well, beyond the forest.
Even at home, I jerk away at night.
Sure, I heard that low Rumble echoing from some corner of the
room. The rational side of me, tried
to brush it off as a weird nightmare or a trick of my
senses. But deep down I suspected, I'd
stumbled onto something in those woods.
Something that I was never meant to find and it refused to leave
me alone. Even when I was hundreds of
miles away, I remember piling into the beat up car with three
of my friends excitement, brimming just beneath the
surface. We didn't have a particular
plan, we rarely do, and that makes everything feel twice as
daring. The road leading to the forest
was a patchwork of crumbling asphalt and weeds poking through
the cracks. My buddy, Jeff kept cracking
jokes about missing hikers and unexplained sightings trying to
set the tone nobody really laughed but we pretended, it was
all in good fun. By the time we reached a spot
where we felt like we could hide the car and not get towed.
The sun was hovering low, painting the fields, around us
in muted, gold Hornstock stood tall on either side of the
Narrow Path. Almost like a corridor.
Inviting us in, we shouldered our packs and walked straight
through them. My legs brushing against the
rough leaves. As my eyes, darted from row to
row half expecting someone to jump out.
Nothing did, of course, just the occasional Breeze bending the
stalks in unison. Eventually the fields gave way
to trees and we started following a faint trail that
snaked through undergrowth and Fallen branches.
My boots kept catching on Twisted Roots, but I pressed on.
Being the one who suggested this trip.
I didn't want anyone thinking I was pooped already.
Behind me. Nicole was breathing heavily
swatting at bugs that kept buzzing near her ears.
Every time she flinched, my grip on the shoulder straps, of my
pack tightened, I tried to shrug it off and chalk it up to
nerves. After an hour or so.
We found what passed for a clearing.
Just a patch of ground less Choke by shrubs It felt secluded
perfect if you wanted to really get away from everything.
We set down our gear, Jeff wasted, no time, fumbling with
the tent poles, grumbling under his breath, whenever a steak
refused to go in. Meanwhile, I wandered around the
perimeter kicking aside Dead Leaves and peering into the
distance where the tree trunks gathered more thickly.
Even in daylight, the woods seemed to swallow up.
Sound, no Birdsong, no rustling branches.
Just a pressure in the air as though the forest was ready to
whisper something. If you stop to listen, once the
tents stood in the fire pit was built.
We sat around watching as the day sliped away.
That golden hour, glow vanished quickly and the temperature dip.
I tried focusing on the crackling of the small fire,
we'd manage. But there was a sense that
something out there had taken notice of our intrusion Jeff and
Nicole joked about old campfire stories.
Our friend Charlotte just kept scanning the tree line lost in
her own thoughts. I found myself wishing the night
would either hurry up and pass or reveal whatever was lurking
in the shadows. When darkness settled the air
turned still, every small noise, felt close yet impossible to
pinpoint. There'd be a crunch in the
leaves. A few yards away, then silence.
A twig snapped and everyone's head turned in unison.
Straining to see something. Anything beyond that feeble
circle of firelight. I tried calming, my breathing,
reminding myself. That forests have wildlife.
It's normal to hear animals scurrying about, but the noises
fell time. Stalking around us in wide.
Arcs hours later, my nerves were shredded There was a flicker of
movement behind Jeff, but when I focused my flash light, nothing
was there. That was the Tipping Point for
all of us. Charlotte muttered, something
about heading back, no matter how late it was.
Nobody argued. We put out the fire as quickly
as possible, grabbed our packs and left half of our things
behind figuring, we'd come back when we had more light and maybe
more courage. As we hurried away our intended
path, melted into thick rows of corn and we realized we'd taken
a wrong turn. the walls of tall stalks scraped against our arms
and faces turning us around, until we couldn't tell which
direction was which The ground felt soft beneath our boots damp
and full of Fallen husks. We shouted to keep track of each
other more than to ward off anything else.
Still something kept pace with us never closer than a few
yards. Like, it was hurting us toward
the edge. My chest felt tight.
By the time, we finally stumbled onto a rough Gravel Road.
The corn Russell won last time and then everything was quiet.
Almost politely letting us Escape.
None of us spoke as we marched to where the cars were parked.
it felt bizarre how that looming threat vanished, so abruptly, We
crammed ourselves into the car and Jeff started.
The engine with shaky hands. The headlights illuminated the
mouth of the trail for a moment showing nothing but Rose of
stalks standing perfectly still as if nothing had happened.
Nobody said a word the entire ride home.
I kept replaying every flicker of light and every sound in my
mind trying to convince myself. It was all wildlife.
That nothing was truly wrong with the place.
But deep down I was convinced we'd attracted unwanted
attention. And the worst part was knowing
that come morning, we'd have to go back for the gear.
We left behind sunlight changes everything or so I thought The
next morning, Jeff banged on my door at Sunrise, determined to
head, back for the tents and gear.
We'd left behind Neither of us could pretend the night before
hadn't gotten to us. But we wanted to save face.
So we rallied the others and climb back into the car acting
like daytime would strip away whatever lurked out there, it
felt almost Serene when we arrived.
The dew glistened on Tall, Grass birds chirped.
Like they had no idea how unnerving things had been hours
ago. We took the same rough path in
to the woods stepping over broken twigs and scuffed.
Patches of dirt. We recognized from last night's
frantic escape the place felt strangely smaller tamer.
My shoulders relaxed and Notch. Like maybe our imaginations had
run wild. Jeff started.
Joking. Tapping a tree trunk with a
grin. Remember this one could have
sworn it was moving in the dark. We all forced to laugh.
Nicole was still a bit on edge but at least it wasn't pitch
black anymore. We moved along teasing each
other about bravery as if the daylight really had chased off
all the Shadows. Then out of nowhere, someone
yelled Marco and laughter rippled through the group.
It was just a spur of the moment thing like we were trying to
tease each other's Jitters away. We kept walking waiting for a
sign of anything out of place. And then we heard it faint and
distant a voice, cutting through the Stillness.
Polo. We froze.
It didn't sound close, but there was an edge to it call, but just
beyond normal earshot, nobody spoke at first and then Jeff
with a nervous, chuckle hollered Marco again. the response came
once more Holo Something about it.
Felt unsettling in the daylight, like we'd gone from being
Watchers to being watched and yet we couldn't resist
investigating. Step by step, we followed that
voice weaving deeper into the woods, then we'd gone before
overhead. The canopy grew thicker
filtering the sun into ribbons of light.
The deeper, we went the quieter. Everything else seemed even the
Birds stopped singing as if they decided to keep their distance.
We finally hit a rusted, barbed wire, fence twisted, and slumped
almost completely swallowed by Vines.
Beyond it. Lay the foundation of a building
just weathered Stone and old boards.
It looked as if whoever had built it vanished, a lifetime
ago, leaving the skeleton behind in our hometown.
We'd seen abandoned houses and barns but this one had a
distinctly unpleasant are the ground was littered with broken
glass and rotting beams. The fence posts had deep scars
as though an animal or something with claws.
Had been scraping them, the voice went silent, We paused
scanning the area half expecting to spot a figure ducking behind
a wall. Nothing moved.
The wrecked Foundation stared back at us daring us to step
closer. My nerves prickled as we
approached. The gaping doorway that led to
what had once been an interior chunks of wood and stone.
Formed Eerie shapes casting Shadows even under bright
sunlight, Nicole called out Marko one last time.
Silence. We Advanced a bit farther
unsettled by what looked like dried dark streaks on a couple
of the Fallen boards. Some part of me wanted to
dismiss it as dirt or Moss but it glistened in places that made
my stomach twists. The air smelled stale.
Maybe tinged with mildew or something worse.
We spread out trying to figure out where that voice could have
come from nobody found Footprints or fresh signs of a
person living or hiding there. Yet each of us felt cornered as
if I were tracking every movement, Jeff kicked at a
broken beam and muttered about how messed up this was Charlotte
kept a close. Watch behind us like she sensed
a presence slipping between the trees.
All our bravado from early are evaporated.
We decided we'd had enough exploring for one day.
The tents were nowhere to be seen.
Anyway either we'd gone off in the wrong direction or they were
deeper in the woods than we realized and after seeing the
ruin up close, none of us wanted to linger.
As we made our Retreat, the silence felt thicker than before
every snapped twig behind us made me flinch.
We were trying to keep calm, but it was like walking on glass
expecting something to Lunge at us at any second.
My heartbeat pounded, in my ears, and I was glad we were
still in a group. It took effort not to Sprint for
the car. When we finally got clear of the
fence and saw the broader stretch of forest thinning out
relief washed through me, the sun felt warmer somehow I could
breathe again but a quick glance over my shoulder, caught a blur,
maybe a figure or just the sway of foliage, hard to say either
way it was enough to make me hurry up.
We reach the trailhead with a collective sigh vowing, not to
come back. We had started this trip to
prove, we could handle anything the forest through at us, but
something else was there? Something we couldn't pin down,
whatever had beckoned us with that Polo either lost interest
or had moved on to some other game.
Our tent might still be out there but I felt safer leaving
it behind. Sometimes it's better to just
walk away, especially when you can't be sure what or who you're
dealing with. We drove off refusing to speak
until we hit the main road, our uneasy glances set, everything,
daylight might have made the woods.
Look, friendly, or at first, but it only peeled back a layer
revealing, an even deeper more unsettling truth.
There's something about that place that plays by its own
rules and we were lucky enough to leave while we could.
I should have known something felt off.
The second we turned down that narrow dirt path.
The main Campground had been packed lanterns everywhere.
Folks chatting around, big bonfires and I hope we'd find a
quiet patch just a bit further out.
Quiet is exactly what we found but I'm not sure it was the kind
of peaceful we were looking for. The sunlight was long gone by
the time we hopped out of the car and my phone.
Flashlight did a poor job Illuminating.
The cramped gravel pull off. My girlfriend gave me a look
that said this is the best we can do.
Our friend riding a mix of excitement and nerves was
already scanning the tree line. Probably wondering if we'd made
a mistake by choosing the far edges of the campsite I Shrugged
like it was no big deal but I had that nagging tingle in my
gut, the sense that things were about to get strange.
Still. We got to work.
The three of us fumbled, with our tents, the beams of our
flashlights zigzagging through the darkness.
At one point, I managed to stab my thumb on a tent stake and I
muttered a few Choice words under my breath.
Meanwhile, every time a twig snapped, we paused to stare into
the Shadows. The place was so quiet.
It was almost suffocating like the woods had collectively
decided to hold back. All sounds.
It made the hair on the back of my neck.
Prickle each time the wind rustled through the leaves, Once
we wrangled both tents upright, we started a small fire.
Nothing fancy just enough to grill.
A few hot dogs and keep our morale from dipping too far.
Flickers of orange, light danced across our faces and I swear the
Shadows around us, grew taller. My girlfriend forced a grin
trying to pass off her anxiety. As curiosity while our friend
told some half-hearted story about a local Ghost Legend,
she'd heard. It was the typical stuff
mysterious sightings unlucky hikers.
But for some reason, everything fell extra tents out here in the
Blackness as we chatted. Our words faded into the night
with unnatural speed, it was like the darkness swallowed them
whole before they even had time to Echo.
I tried to ignore the creeping feeling that maybe this spot was
empty for a reason. We stuck close to the fire
stealing glances over our shoulders, whenever a soft
Breeze rattled the underbrush, despite our best efforts to
laugh at all. I think all of us were itching
to crawl into our tents and hope the nighttime hours would pass
without incident. Eventually the Flames, flickered
down to nothing but smoldering Embers.
We poured on some water and quickly.
Doused, the last glow, then shuffled into our separate
tents, my girlfriend, and I in one, our friend and the other
Before zipping up, I checked our surroundings with the flashlight
one more time. Trees, gravel a distant
silhouette of the lake Beyond. Just typical stuff.
But my stomach was still Twisted in knots and I had no clue why.
As I settled into my sleeping bag, I tried to brush off the
uneasy vibe. This was just another camping
trip, right? A routine night outdoors.
Let the forest do its thing. I told myself and everything
would be fine by morning. I closed my eyes hoping to drift
off quickly. Little did I know that was just
the opening act? The real dread was waiting for
us a few hours into the night, lurking in the shadows beyond
that final dying Ember. I got jostled out of sleep,
sometime around midnight, my thoughts, hazy and my muscles
stiff from lying on the rocky ground at first.
I thought maybe it was just my own breathing echoing in my
ears. But then I caught this distant
cry. Slice through the silence long
and wavering like nothing I'd ever heard out in the wild.
It seemed to rise and fall in a way that made my pulse Spike.
My Girlfriend stirred next to me, clutching my arm and alarm.
It didn't sound like a coyote or an owl, both of which I've heard
enough times to recognize. This had an eerie quality to it
like a warning or maybe a summons, echoing off the thick
trees surrounding us. I whispered something about it.
Probably being an animal just passing by the LIE.
Tasted bitter on my tongue but I figured a half Comfort was
better than nothing. As We Lay their straining to
pick up the next sign of Life, The Howling stopped.
The quiet that followed unnaturally complete as though
the forest had paused to see how we'd react.
Eventually the tension eased a notch and my girlfriend settled
back down. I tried to follow her lead
focusing on the soft, Russell of sleeping bags.
The gentle sound of our friends breathing in the other tent.
But the memory of that cry played on repeat, in my mind,
just when I was starting to drift off again, I detected a
faint. Scraping outside at first.
I thought it was the wind dragging a branch across gravel
but it had a distinct Rhythm like careful footsteps.
Each step seemed to Crunch on rocks.
Getting closer then farther like someone circling my heart,
hammered every nerve on high alert.
I convinced myself. It was our friend venturing out
for a late night bathroom break After all she'd mentioned, being
nervous about going alone. I called out her name, just loud
enough for anyone nearby to hear but nobody answered.
I decided not to investigate, hoping it truly was nothing.
Still my brain played out every possible scenario, a stray
camper got lost and was searching for a path.
Or maybe a ranger on patrol who didn't realize how much they
were speaking us. I tried to latch onto any
mundane explanation but a sliver of Doubt remained.
Somehow exhausting got the better of me.
And I drifted off. Not for long though.
I snapped awake later noticing a faint glow.
Through the tent walls. Initially relief, washed over
me. I assumed Don had finally
arrived. But a quick look at my phone.
Showed it was barely passed 3 a.m.
Confusion settled in. The light felt real, but when I
peered through a gap in the tenth zipper, the woods outside
were nearly Pitch Black. It was like my eyes were playing
tricks or maybe the darkness was reflecting.
Some distant glow in a way. I couldn't comprehend My
girlfriend stirred, again, moaning softly about nightmares.
She mentioned seeing vague shapes shifting in the trees
part, dream part lingering fear from that weird, whale early.
Or as I lay there, listening something about her words.
Struck me as more than idle paranoia The night had a
peculiar atmosphere like time wasn't moving in its usual.
Rhythm one moment it felt like Dawn was right there and the
next we were swallowed by Shadows.
I tried reassuring. Her muttering stuff about how
we'd laugh at this, in the morning.
But the Eerie feeling clung to my skin that Halo cry, the
Phantom steps, the false dawn of it made sense.
Yet it all fit together in a way that kept my nerves on edge.
I was determined to believe we'd be okay, as long as we stayed
zipped inside and waited for real sunlight to show itself.
Eventually with my girlfriend's hand in mine, I let my eyes slip
shut again. My mind churned with stray
images of tall Silhouettes and flickers of light.
But I told myself it was all Just My Imagination.
If only I had known that the strangest part of our night was
still around the corner creeping, ever closer.
I doubt I would have slept at all.
I woke up feeling like I was drowning in Terror.
A pressure. Wait on the lower part of my
sleeping bag exactly where my feet were pinned.
My mind world with the sudden shock of it, I could actually
feel the tent fabric bending inward.
Something pushing from the outside.
For half a heartbeat, I froze heart, slamming against my ribs
unsure if I was still dreaming but then my survival instincts.
Kicked in. I started swinging screaming and
a voice so raw I barely recognized it.
As my own my girlfriend jolted upright eyes wild with
confusion. She clutched at my arm, trying
to calm me but my adrenaline was Sky High.
The tent walls seemed to close in every movement fell Amplified
by the darkness. Like something was crawling all
over us. I kept thrashing for what felt
like ages though. It was probably only a few
seconds until I realized. There was no sound, no,
continuation of that Force pressing against the tent, just
the Frantic gasps of my own breathing and my girlfriend's
panicked voice telling me to stop.
Finally, I went still heart pounding so hard it hurt.
We both sat there not daring to speak above a whisper.
Even the faintest shift of our bodies on the tenth floor,
seemed Thundurus We kept waiting for some follow-up, a zipper
opening, a growl or footsteps crunching the gravel.
But we heard nothing which in some ways was worse.
The silence felt accusatory like the woods were mocking us for
thinking we could handle a night out here without consequences.
I fumbled around for my phone. Checking the time. 4:25 a.m. my
girlfriend murmured, something about a nightmare that had kept
looping in her sleep Shadows crowding, around the sense of
being watched She said my scream almost matched the tone of that
awful whale we'd heard before the idea that I might be echoing
the same horror that had rattled us earlier.
Made me shutter, we realized our friend must have heard me losing
it so we braced ourselves to leave the tent.
Before unzipping, we sat in that tight, space listening for any
hint of movement outside. When we heard nothing, I flicked
on the flashlight, its beam cut through the tent, flap revealing
nothing, but raw Darkness beyond my pulse hammered as I crawled
out expecting, at least some sign of a struggle Footprints,
or flattened leaves where something heavy might have
stood, there was no evidence. Just our second tent, a few
steps away. And behind it, Rose of towering
trees that vanished into blackness.
The air was dead still. Feeling exposed.
I hurried over to check on our friend.
She peeked out wide-eyed clearly terrified, but unharmed She
insisted she'd stayed put the whole time hadn't, even unzipped
her tents. Since we all turned in for the
night. That only raised more questions
if she hadn't gone outside, then who or what had made those
earlier footsteps I heard and if nobody was around what had
pressed down on my tents on fire, we came to a silent
agreement. We weren't spending another
minute there. My girlfriend, and I tore into
our tent yanking out the stakes and shoving sleeping bags into
their sacks. Our Friends scrambled to do the
same. The beams of our flashlights
shaking with every quick movement.
Even the slightest rustle in the underbrush.
Had me turning my head. Half expecting to see a shape
lurking. Just beyond the tree line by
4:40 a.m. we had most of our gear, hastily packed our breath
hitching and frantic bursts. Our friend fumbled with her
phone, light and mentioned. She'd also thought, Dawn had
come at some point that illusion of daylight through the tent.
It made no sense. The real mourning was still
hours away yet. We'd both experienced that on
settling half-light. We raced to the car, dumped
everything in a heap and fired up the engine as the headlights
cut across the campsite. I caught glimpses of the Tall.
Pines looming overhead every shadow felled wrong.
Like it concealed, something that had just barely slipped
out. Of sight we left with without a
word the tires crunching along the gravel.
I don't think any of us breathe normally until we hit the main
road, the faint glow of distant, streetlights promising, a return
to normalcy. But even as we drove, I couldn't
shake the thought of that pressure.
On my feet, the shriek, those creeping footfalls.
It stayed with me, a lingering ache in my chest.
One thing was certain we'd escape the campsite, but
whatever had claimed that patch of wilderness wasn't done
whispering in the Darkness. We might have left in one piece,
but the haunting memory of that night, sure is Hell.
Followed us. I remember settling into our
little two-man tent that evening with a sense of calm
expectation. Just me and my husband tucked
away in a remote corner of the forest.
We'd hiked all day. Following winding trails and
admiring the steady home of wildlife in the distance.
By the time we set up camp, I was exhausted in that good
contented way that usually promises a solid night sleep.
Sometime after midnight, I stirred awake.
At first, all I noticed was the thick Darkness.
Broken only by The Faint glow of moonlight edging, through the
fabric of our tent. My eyes darted around trying to
reorient. I realized I needed to step out
for a bathroom break. Nothing unusual there.
Just one of those moments when Nature Calls inconveniently
during the night. I was tempted to ignore it, but
I knew I wouldn't be able to drift off again without taking
care of business. I turned to check on my husband
quietly, making sure, I wouldn't disturb him.
He was still asleep breathing in that slow, calm Rhythm.
I knew so well. I'd almost made up my mind to
slip out silently when a strange noise cut through the Stillness.
A slow methodical scratching like fingers, dragging against
the ground. My thoughts ran wild in seconds,
maybe it was just some Curious Critters sniffing around, but
this sound was too measured. Almost deliberate with my breath
caught in my throat, I paused listening for any sign, it had
moved away when it didn't fade. I gather the nerve to ease the
tent zipper open just a bit, a slice of moonlight spilled in
Illuminating, the forest floor. At first, all I could see were
Shadows of shrubs in the outline of tall trunks.
Then I spotted movement, a few feet to my left, a shape
crouched low, my eyes adjusted and I realized it was a woman.
She looks surprisingly young hair Tangled and hanging around
her face in clumps. She was so close to our tent
that I wondered how I hadn't heard her approach.
She was digging into the soil, with her bare hands, scooping
out, little clumps of dirt, as if unearthing some hidden
treasure. There was something off about
her posture. She moved in slow.
Careful motions, almost like she was in a trance.
I tried to steady myself but my pulse pounded, in my ears.
I kept glancing back to my husband who was still cluelessly
asleep. The idea of confronting a
stranger in the middle of nowhere.
Left me Frozen for a second. I considered zipping the tent
and pretending I hadn't seen her.
But what if she needed help? Or what if she meant us harm?
The question alone made my skin prickle.
So I shuffled backwards, my husband away.
In a hushed. Whisper, I told him there was
someone right outside His eyes snapped open and he followed my
gaze to the half. Open zipper without hesitating.
He reached for our flash light. Stayed low peeking over his
shoulder as he directed a small beam of light toward the figure.
She barely reacted just paused her digging.
The beam lit up her face, a mixture of dirt and sweat clung
to her skin. And her eyes had a distant look.
As if she wasn't fully present in that moment, he called out.
Hey, are you okay? But she didn't respond, she just
slowly stood letting the loose Earth drop from her fingertips
for a heartbeat. I thought she might lash out or
speak, but she remains silent. Then in one fluid motion, she
turned and walked deeper into the darkness leaving that
shallow hole right next to our tent.
My husband and I exchanged a look of disbelief part of me,
wanted to chase her down, find out who she was but Common Sense
said otherwise, the isolation of the place was suddenly
overnight. I mean I couldn't exactly hold
it till Dawn. So I unzip the 10th, the rest of
the way scanning the shadows, for any trace of her.
The night air felt colder than it had an hour before seeping
through my jacket. Every tree took on a menacing
outline. My husband stood guard, flash
lights sweeping left and right. While I tended to my business.
No sign of her anywhere but the unease lingard.
Once I returned to the tent, we tried to settle down again, we
talked in hushed tones, speculating on what we had just
witnessed. Was she a lost?
Hiker a local who wandered away from another campsite neither
explanation. Felled quite right.
But exhaustion, won out over adrenaline.
And we lay back down the zipper closed.
I closed my eyes hoping the rest of the night would pass quietly.
Still, every time, the wind rustled, the leaves I braced for
the possibility of seeing her again, crouched, just inches
away. The tenth suddenly felt too
thin, almost transparent like no barrier at all.
I think I drifted off for a bit, though.
My dreams were uneasy. my mind kept returning to the sight of
her kneeling in the Moonlight Nails, scratching into the dirt
And that Halo expression on her face.
The kind that hinted at some buried distress or a reality
far. Different from ours, my husband
stayed awake longer. I could tell he shifted around,
hands gripping, the flash light as if waiting for her to come
back. That was how the first part of
the night played out two people in a campsite that had seemed.
So comforting just hours before now wrestling with the notion
that safety can vanish with one bizarre encounter.
We had no clue what would happen next?
Or if this stranger would return, all we could do was lie.
There years straining for another hint of movement waiting
for Dawn and praying, she wouldn't appear again.
I must have dozed off at some point because the next thing I
recall is being startled awake by a metallic rattle just
outside the 10th. It took me a second to realize,
it wasn't part of a dream. Know, this was real a sound of
something or someone picking through our gear, my insights
Twisted, at the thought that the stranger from before was back.
I turned my head and saw my husband's eyes snap open too.
Neither of us, spoke. We just locked gazes letting the
clattering go on for a tense moment before deciding to act.
He unzipped the door as quietly as he could stepping out with
the flash light in hand. I poked my head out right behind
him. My pulse pounding.
Sure enough she was there. The same person, the same filthy
clothes and unkempt hair only. Now she seemed deeply absorbed
in our supplies pots and utensils were scattered around
her feet. She crouched low head tilted as
if the items, the themselves were more fascinating than we
were. She hadn't tried to take off
with anything, but the way she examined our belongings left me
on nerved. There was an eerie curiosity in
her expression, almost childlike, but it clashed with
the rest of her disheveled appearance.
My husband called out to her, not exactly shouting, but loud
enough to cut through the hush of the forest.
Hey, that's ours. Do you need help or something?
His voice betrayed. The tension, he was feeling.
The flashlight beam fell across her face, revealing eyes that
glinted in the harsh light. She lifted her head letting a
small metal cup clatter from her grip.
She didn't move or speak just stared.
I tried to read something anything in her eyes, but came
up blank was she hostile confused lost?
My thoughts were all over the place, a heavy knot tightened in
my gut. My husband was still trying to
get through to her asking if she was okay, But she offered no
explanation, no hint at what she might want.
She just held that unnerving stare.
It was as if our words were registering.
Or maybe she just didn't care. Before I could even decide what
to do my husband backed away retreating to the tent flap.
He couldn't force her to leave without risking a full.
Confrontation, neither of us. Wanted that We were out here
alone in the middle of nowhere with no quick way to call for
assistance. If she didn't budge, we were at
a disadvantage. I stood there in the open air
for a moment wondering, if maybe I could reason with her, but I
froze tongue tied. She looked at me and the
flashlight beam caught a smudge of dirt across her cheek, that
gave her a feral quality. Slowly, she lowered herself back
into a Crouch, rummaging around our stuff, with total disregard
for the tension in the air. A million scenarios bounced
around my head. Should we pack up and leave?
Confront her more forcefully. My instinct scream that a person
who acted this way wasn't going to respond to normal logic.
So I decided to return to the tenth quietly, zipping the door.
Shut behind me and my husband. The two of us sat there for
several minutes, listening to every scrape and Shuffle
outside. It felt like we were stranded in
a real standoff with no clear path out.
Eventually, the rummaging sounds faded.
I exhaled, trying to settle the hammering in my chest.
Maybe she'd move on maybe this would become just another
bizarre. Campfire story.
But then the digging returned the same slow deliberate
scraping near the side of the tent.
I realized she was back at that little hole.
She'd started. The sound felt closer than ever.
Like she was practically inches from my head.
We both jumped, when I finally shouted through the tent walls,
telling her to stop the instant, the words left my mouth, there
was a frantic Shuffle. It reminded me of the way a
startled. Animal, might tear through the
brush, I scrambled appear outside, but by the time I got
the zipper part way open, she was gone.
Just darkness shifting shadows, and the faint rustling of
leaves. we didn't sleep well after that every passing minute
dragged on while we waited for her to return, My husband
gripped, the flash light occasionally shining it through
the thin fabric of the tent to see if anyone was out there.
The forest seemed to close in thick with tension.
I couldn't manage to keep my eyes shut for more than a minute
or two before some small Russell made me start all over again.
Dawn came at last bringing a week, sliver of Grey light,
through the canopy. We cautiously unzip the tent
feeling like Intruders on our own campsite.
Our gear was scattered over the area.
Cookware water bottles, clothing items.
She had touched everything inspected it then tossed it
aside. The only thing more unsettling
than that. Chaos was the whole now Doug
nearly a foot. Deep beside our tent. no obvious
reason, just a hole as if that had been her main objective all
along My husband and I scan the area but she was nowhere to be
found, no Footprints. Beyond some smudges of dirt, no
sign of another tent or bag of her own.
Just our stuff left in disarray. We collected what we could still
have expecting her to materialize from behind a tree.
When she didn't, we decided, we weren't waiting around to tempt
fate. We packed up faster than ever.
Part of me was still braced for her to appear again.
Maybe running at us or cycling the site in that awkward crowd.
We left that clearing with an odd mixture of guilt and relief.
Guilt for not being able to help someone who for all we knew
needed it desperately relief for escaping and encounter that felt
steeped in danger, even if it never escalated into outright
violence, During the entire hike back.
I kept twisting around to see if she was following us.
The Shadows seem to move at the corner of my vision but I never
saw her again. By the time we reached the
safer, more populated Trails. I realized I had been holding my
breath, intense bursts. Looking back.
It's the most unnerving camping experience I've had worse than
storms or Wildlife or anything else you typically worry about.
Because when it's a person acting that way, you can't
predict what's going to happen. The unknown lingers creeping
under your skin. Reminding you that out in the
wild your sense of safety can shatter without warning.
And all it takes is one stranger with a strange agenda.
The day kicked off at my friend's place.
The storm from the night before had finally died down, but the
air outside felt charged. It wasn't just the leftover
humidity either, it was more like this low hum pressing in
making me edgy. We were supposed to be hyped
about riding into the woods but I noticed everyone sort of
dragging their feet around the living room.
I swallowed my worries figuring, I was just picking up on someone
else's nerves. Eventually, we shuffled outside
to load the four-wheelers. Two of them, each dragging a
little wagon, stuffed with our tents water jugs and random
gear. We'd done trips like this, that
doesn't times, but something about The Silence in the group
made me uneasy. Usually, we'd be tossing, jokes
around loud and obnoxious, but we were just fumbling with
bungee cords and fiddling with the engine switches.
Then without a word, we set off. The first few minutes on that
muddy Trail, felt like entering another world.
The forest around us didn't Buzz with the usual.
Summertime life. No birds.
Chattering overhead. No rustling in the brush, just
the rumble of our four-wheelers, and the squelch of tires in the
mud. I couldn't shake this Sensation
that the trees were watching us somehow, but I kept quiet,
nobody else was talking. So I didn't want to be the one
to crack and say something silly.
A couple of miles in. We took a breather by a crooked
old stump The humidity weight on me and I leaned against one of
the wagons trying to catch my breath.
That's one. A streak of movement crossed the
path. Maybe a few dozen yards ahead.
Could have been a deer, I told myself.
Even though it zipped by two upright too quick.
My friend's face went pale, but he Shrugged it off just as fast.
I think we all felt the tension in that moment like we just
witnessed something that didn't quite belong in a normal day.
Still, we hopped back on and carried on further down Fallen
branches and Slick winding ruts in the ground.
Turned our trip into slow motion.
Chaos. We got forced into detours more
times than I could count. Even the sunlight seemed to fade
quicker than it should leaving the woods looking darker, as if
the day was running away from us.
Each time someone cut the engine to figure out A New Path.
The silence around us was suffocating.
I thought I heard a few faint snaps in the underbrush, but
when I turned, I only found damp leave and twisted trees.
By the time we finally reached the site my shirt was sticking
to my back and my pulse was throwing a little too hard.
Something about the whole trip there.
Had been off. And I had no clue how much
weirder things were about to get.
By the time, we finally hauled our gear into that little
clearing the daylight was already slipping away.
It felt like we were stepping into a room where something
lurked just out of sight. We spread out each trying to
find some reasonable ground. For our tents trading uneasy
glances every time a twig snapped or a breeze fluttered.
Overhead, The air was sticky enough to cling to your skin and
the silence around us felt unnatural.
Not one bird call. Not a single Russell of anything
with fur or feathers, like the whole place was holding its
breath. We were exhausted from the right
end, but no one said a word about Calling it Quits.
Instead, we scrambled to set up, I jammed tent Stakes into the
damp soil with unsteady hands. While my friends, fan out
grabbing dead branches for firewood, The plan was to get a
fire going quick. Hoping it had chase away.
The uneasy vibe that had been gnawing at us all day.
At first, I thought the tall shape standing among the trees
was just another, weirdly Twisted trunk long and narrow
blending in with the dim light but then it shifted, I could see
it past the tent. I was working on looming with a
bizarre Stillness. A buddy of mine noticed too
because his voice cracked mid laugh when he spotted it.
We froze waiting for it to do something anything but it just
stood there and then faster than I could process it bolted deeper
into the woods moving in a way that didn't line up with
anything. I'd call normal.
Our group rallied around the fire pit eyes darting from one
silhouette to the next. The relief of the first Sparks
catching felt almost electric but the Flames glow warped, the
Shadows around us Playing Tricks on my mind.
Shapes seemed to leap and sway at the edges of the firelight,
every little sound beyond that circle of light.
Had me gripping my knees, ready to jump up and run.
If something too big Came Crashing through night settled
in with a speed that made my stomach.
Not I realized with a sinking feeling that there was no
turning back. trying to navigate the mud and dense Thicket in
total darkness would be a lost cause We huddled around the
flickering, fire two, rattled to swap, the usual ghost stories.
Every single one of us was busy scanning the dark convinced we'd
catch sight of that towering figure creeping closer.
At one point I thought I heard a quiet crunch nearby but when I
whip my head around there was just the same endless sprawl of
trees and undergrowth. We decided to assign a couple of
people to keep watch while the rest tried to snatch some
shut-eye, like that was possible.
I retreated to my tent Half convinced I wouldn't sleep at
all. My heart was drumming in my
ears, a Lantern's faint glow lit, the space revealing how
clammy my own hands looked I lay there straining to hear anything
unusual. Occasionally someone would call
out from near the fire just to make sure we were all still
there. The worst part was the quiet
between those calls every pause left me.
Imagining that figure closing in step by step.
Somehow a few hours limped by, without any full blown Terror.
At first light, we tore down camp, like our lives depended on
it. Sleep?
Or no sleep. We just wanted to leave that
place behind. You could feel the wave of
relief, when the wagons Got Loaded again, the sky was a
dreary morning gray, but to me it felt like the brightest
Sunshine I'd ever seen. We didn't spend much time
talking about what we'd witnessed.
We just aimed our four-wheelers back toward home.
On the right out. My head stayed on a swivel,
scanning the trees, in my peripheral vision.
Every now and then, I imagine seeing a gangly silhouette,
lurking in the shadows, and my heart would hammer a little
harder, but nothing else started across our path and no more
shapes towered among the trunks. It was almost as if the forest
had decided to keep its Secrets. Now that we were leaving when we
finally pulled up to my friend's driveway, I swear I could
practically taste the relief. We unloaded intense silence.
Nobody quite ready to put into words.
What we'd seen. Even later when the shock began
to fade, we danced around the details tossing out half-hearted
theories. Still.
Deep in my gut. I knew our trip hadn't been some
ordinary camping Adventure. Sometimes the wild remains
indifferent to our need for answers and all we can do is
pack up and hope it'll let us go.
I've been camping for years but I still remember the trip that
made me question how safe we really are out there.
My wife and I chose a secluded spot known for its towering
jackpot thinking, we'd find a quiet Escape.
The drive-in felt ordinary enough Dusty Rhodes.
A few deer darting across our headlights.
That usual hush of Deep Woods. But once we stepped out of the
car, something felt a little too silent.
No rustling. No chirping, just a thick uneasy
Stillness. We pitched our tent beneath the
cluster of those tall ragged trees the ground covered in a
spongy layer of old needles. The sky was a dull gray that
afternoon and a hint of Cool Wind gusted Through making us.
Both glanced around like we were expecting somebody else to show
up. I tried to shake off the
creeping down after all we'd come for solitude but as the day
wore on, that wind turned from a gentle breath.
In to something fierce just before dusk, it started slamming
against the tree line whistling in a way that made it sound
alive. My wife looked at me with
concern and I tried to act casual stoking, our small fire
to keep morale up. Overhead.
The clouds Twisted into an angry swirl and the branches started
cracking. One by one each cracked like an
alarm Bell. We'd peer up straining to see,
which trunk might give way first night descended quickly and any
sense of security vanished with it.
We crawled into our tent. Only to hear a deafening snap
somewhere in the Darkness. The ground trembled with a
jarring thud that set our nerves on edge, the wind pounded the
tent wall, so hard. I thought the entire thing might
tear apart. Every time a new gust, roared
through, I braced myself half expecting to feel a branch slam
into us. It was like the forest was fed
up with us being there letting us know and no uncertain terms
that we were intruders. At some point in the chaos, I
became convinced I heard footsteps out there faint and
erratic. Like someone carefully picking
their way between falling branches.
My wife, whispered my name her voice shaking and I pretended I
hadn't noticed. There was no way I dare step
outside to check every snap and crash beyond our thin nylon
walls. Made it seem like the world was
tearing itself apart. Dawn crept.
In revealing, a campsite that looked like a war zone.
Massive limbs scattered everywhere.
Our fire pit half buried under broken debris.
We were lucky our tent hadn't been crushed as we packed up.
I spotted what looked like fresh prints in the mud?
Something I couldn't explain they didn't match our boot
treads. Trying not to alarm my wife.
I brushed it off as a trick of the light and hurried her along
driving away. I couldn't ignore the knot in my
gut. We'd come for a peaceful
weekend, but the forest had other plans.
And I couldn't help wondering if we had stuck around just a
little longer. Would we have discovered who or
what was skulking out there in the turmoil.
I tried to leave it behind convincing myself.
It was just a brutal storm in my own nerves.
But looking back, it feels like that was only the beginning.
After the Storm Fiasco, with my wife, I figured teaming up with
a friend might keep things calmer We'd heard rumors of an
old campsite only reachable by a decent four-wheel drive.
The place supposedly had a couple of dilapidated tables, a
metal fire ring and two outhouses that hadn't been
inspected in ages. That alone should have been a
red flag, but we were craving Adventure.
We arrived around midday kicking up dust as we veered off the
main road onto a bumpy Trail. The place was about as deserted
as a guests. No sign of recent visitors, no
vehicle tracks nothing. We unloaded exchanged a few
jokes about who'd end up with tetanus first.
Then started setting up. My friend wandered off toward
the first Outhouse only to come back.
Looking troubled. He didn't say much just headed
to the second Outhouse instead once he was finished he said you
need to see what's in that first one.
I braced myself for the usual Outhouse horror, maybe a raccoon
Nest, or some other gross scenario.
But inside were three, enormous backpacks.
Were talking gear sized bags for a week-long trek, each coated in
a thin layer of dust. Two were normal enough packed
with camping gear, flash, lights, sleeping bags, gas
canisters. The last one was downright
bizarre. Stuffed topped to bottom with
Skittles, big bags. Small pouches, sour tropical
every single pocket in that pack rattled with rainbow candy. 4
days out there, only made it weirder, nobody showed up to
claim them, nobody even passed by at night, it was so quiet at
bordered on Erie. We slept fitfully, half
expecting the rightful owners to storm into our camp demanding,
their supplies a few times. I thought I heard Twigs snapping
near our tents, but whenever I checked there was nobody My
buddy said he kept waking up sure, he heard Whispering, we
both blamed it on nerves but the silence pressed in like a
weight. When we finally decided to head
back to civilization, we left the backpacks.
Right? Where we found them.
Something about hauling them out.
Ourselves felt. Wrong.
Maybe we were paranoid, but it was as, if the woods didn't want
them to Disturbed. We let the authorities know
though, I doubt they rushed out there.
Even so I still can't explain why someone would hide enough
Skittles to feed an army in eroding out.
House then vanish It made me wonder if this was connected to
that storm trip with my wife. Like there was a pattern I
couldn't see yet. As we drove away, I kept
glancing in the rear view mirror.
Convinced, the owner's of those bags might appear on the trail
silently watching us. Leave I set out on this, latest
trip with my dog on a whim. Eager to clear my head after the
weirdness of the last two outings.
Part of me hope to straightforward solo Camp, might
silence all the nagging doubts that had been building.
Know, raging storms. Know abandoned backpacks.
Full of candy. Just me my dog.
And a stretch of Old Forest not too far off a back road.
The drive was quiet enough. The sun already dipping below
the trees by the time I found a decent spot to make Camp.
I kept it simple. A tarp shelter a small fire.
My dog curled at my feet as dusk settled in.
There was a slight breeze, rustling through the undergrowth
and a distant whoosh of a creek that gave the place a calming
Vibe, I'd been missing. Even so I couldn't fully relax.
my mind kept drifting to the memory of those insane wins
snapping Pines near our tent, and the image of those three
enormous backpacks in the outhouse, it felt like each
strange event was a puzzle piece all out of place, but somehow
linked Just asleep. Started tugging at me, I caught
the Telltale glow of headlights weaving through the trees.
A second later, a truck engine revved way louder than
necessary. A cluster of drunken voices
followed echoing in the Stillness, my heart thudded, as
I glanced at my dog who was suddenly alert ears, perked up,
then came the gunshots sharp cracks that tore through the
night. Are I instinctively hunched down
trying to figure out how close they might be?
The shots sounded wild and Reckless spaced out in bursts.
Like someone was firing off rounds, just for the thrill of
it. Every time another shot rang
out, I felt the tension coil tighter inside me.
Were they just blowing off steam, or did they have any
idea? I was here.
It didn't help that the terrain sloped in such a way that any
bullets could easily Ricochet into my camp.
My dog whined and I knew I couldn't stay put.
Dousing the fire became Priority One.
The last thing I wanted was my little flame advertising.
Our location to a bunch of Rowdy strangers.
With guns, I buried the Embers, grab my essentials, and tugged,
the leash tight ready to slip out into the darkness. it was a
nerve wracking Shuffle away from the campsite the forest floor,
crackled onto each step, making it impossible to move silently.
For a split second. I worry about stumbling across
Footprints. Like the ones I'd seen After the
Storm with my wife. But each gunshot slice through
that thought. Reminding me to keep moving.
My heart pounded as we wove among the trees ducking low.
Whenever another volley of shots rang out.
My mind turned with questions, I couldn't answer.
Was there, some link between this chaos and what happened
before? The Windstorm might have been
nothing more than bad weather. The backpacks might have been
some bizarre joke or hurried stash.
But right, then I couldn't shake the notion that the woods had it
out for me that these separate events were part of a bigger
pattern. I wasn't smart enough to
decipher Eventually, I found a rough trail that led away from
the noise. The shot started to fade behind
me replaced by the sound of my own ragged breathing.
I'm not sure how many miles I covered in that adrenaline
fueled Haze, but by the time I stumbled onto a proper service
road, I felt raw my dog stayed pressed against my leg as if
sharing my relief. When I finally stopped to catch
my breath, the night seemed unnaturally still again.
It reminded me of the hush before the storm on that other
trip. And for a moment, I was sure I
saw movement at the edge of my flash light beam a person or
maybe just a trick of the Shadows.
I froze, but there was nothing. If someone was watching they
stayed hidden. Part of me wanted to call it
quits right there. Maybe find some Motel until
morning. But I also felt a strange pull
like I had to piece together. Why these things kept happening?
Was it all in my head? Could I really be that unlucky
or was there something lurking out here connecting these events
in a way I couldn't begin to understand.
Climbing into my car. I looked back at the tree line.
The only sound was the Wind Through the branches and my own
pulse thumping in my ears. I tightened my grip on the
steering wheel telling myself, it was just a few drunken
Yahoo's. Nothing more. but the knots in
my guts set, otherwise, Something was out there and I
wasn't sure I had ever feel safe in the woods again until I found
out. What I reached that Valley by
late afternoon, determined to leave all my deadlines and
digital noise behind. The quiet out there was
downright and toxic, no phone service, no crowded, campsites,
just the occasional bird call echoing through the Hill's.
The plan was simple. Set up camp before dark and
enjoy some well-deserved solitude.
But naturally, I miss calculated my time on the trail.
The sun was dipping lower than I expected.
It's orange glow. Barely lighting my way.
When a stranger appeared on the path.
He introduced himself, like it was the most normal thing in the
world to bump into someone in the middle of nowhere.
I can't explain why. But his EZ tone put me at ease.
He asked if I was looking for a place to Camp, then pointed me
toward a hidden spot near the river.
The way he described it. Close to the road but invisible
to the average passerby. Piqued.
My interest and said a little edge of curiosity in me.
Part of me wanted to ask why it needed to be so tucked away, but
I let it go. Maybe I was too grateful for the
tip to question it. We threaded through brush that
seemed to close in behind us. I kept glancing over my shoulder
half expecting to see a main trail, but it was just amazed of
Shadows. The local showed me the exact
spot a fire pit with well-worn rocks, a clearing just wide
enough for my truck and the rivers steady gurgle close by He
gave me a nod said something about how I probably have the
whole place to myself and ambled off.
As quickly as he'd come, he was gone.
At first, it felt magical like I had unlocked a secret Realm.
The sky was streaked pink and purple and I decided to build a
fire before it got fully dark. Sparks popped.
As I fed it kindling, the heat licking my face in the fading
light. I set out a chair cracked open a
beer and scrolled through my phone on reflects only to laugh
at myself when I remembered I had no bars out here.
The night settled in so fast. I threw on a friend's comedy
podcast. Letting the jokes bounce off the
trees. I know it wasn't exactly wise to
announce my presence out loud in the wilderness, but the laughter
made the silence less overwhelming with no one around
to scold me. I kicked back and let the volume
rise. I might have been a little too
confident in my isolation to be honest.
By the time I realized how late it was the Shadows from the fire
reached across, the campsite like giant arms.
For a second, I considered setting up my tent but
exhaustion took over the idea of wrestling tent.
Poles on her. A dim flash, light sounded
miserable plus the back of my truck with the topper.
Promise to Quick sheltered solution.
I pulled my gear inside an arranged, a makeshift bed.
Imagining I'd wake up fresh and ready for a lazy morning by the
river. Despite my best attempts to
relax, I dozed off with an auto awareness that the night deeper
than usual. Every small Branch crack outside
made me wonder if a raccoon or something else was sniffing
around. I told myself it was the thrill
of being alone. Still, I couldn't help glancing
at the dark shapes dancing. Beyond the truck windows. sleep
finally took hold, but it was Restless, The wind occasionally
gusted, making the underbrush tremble in the fires dying glow.
Somewhere in my half awake mind. I questioned if someone or
something was out there listening to the laughter from
my speakers. At one point, I sat up and
peered out the window. But all I saw were silhouettes
of bushes and trees swaying in the glow of Embers.
I convinced myself, it was just me being jumpy, by the time I
drifted off for good. The fire was a cluster of fading
coals and the world outside fell dark as Inc.
Little did, I know that uneasy Vibe would become a cruel
morning reality, but for the moment I clung to the illusion
that a rugged truck bed and a few aluminum walls where enough
protection from whatever lurked beyond the trees.
Morning came with a crisp by biting chill that had me
blinking awake in the back of my truck.
My muscles were not exactly grateful for the hard surface.
I'd slept on, but at least I was born.
I fumbled around grabbed some kindling and got the fire going
again, until the Flames were strong enough to heat up a quick
breakfast. The plan was simple.
Enjoy the early sunlight, maybe crack a lazy beer and soak in
the piece before heading back to civilization.
I just settled onto a makeshift camp chair when I noticed a
shape at the edge of the clearing at first.
I figured it was just one of the local Wildlife coming in to
investigate my leftover food scraps.
But as my eyes adjusted, I realized it was a person.
A tall ragged figure almost swallowed up by layers of dingy
clothes and bags. Plastic grocery bags maybe 100
of them tied around his Limbs and torso like bizarre.
Streamers my mind started replaying every story I had ever
heard about stragglers and remote areas, he didn't announce
himself, didn't even face me straight on.
He sort of shuffled and paused then sidestepped like he wasn't
sure if he wanted to come closer or disappear.
Everything fell off. I raise a hand in greeting
mourning. I said trying for a casual tone.
No responds. All I got in return was more of
that, odd pacing. It felt like some weird
standoff, but I tried not to let it show.
I offered him breakfast, figuring a hot meal might calm
whatever was going on with him. He only took a couple more
steps. Around the perimeter, the
plastic bags, making a soft rustling that somehow unnerved
me more than any words could have.
My instincts were yelling at me in full force.
I kept my bear spray a knife within Arms Reach half.
Hoping I'd never have to use them.
Maybe he was just hungry or confused.
So I called out again, offered a beer this time, but he didn't
even turn his head. He never looked at me.
Not once. The way he kept his back, turned
was downright unsettling. Like, he was waiting for me to
stop paying attention, so he could move in closer or do
something worse. Second dragged like hours.
I tried to think of a third all of Branch to extend, but nothing
came to mind, except a single thought.
This is not going to end with a friendly handshake.
My frustration hit a Breaking Point ignored me or get out.
I shouted voice cracking with a mix of fear and anger.
He stayed silent focusing on the ground in front of him.
My bear spray felt ice cold in my grip.
I took one step just one and held it up for him to see that I
wasn't helpless. That action finally triggered a
reaction. He slumped turned away from me
and headed off leaving the same way.
He came as if the confrontation was already forgotten.
I stood there for maybe two heartbeats then snapped into
motion. Forget breakfast.
Forget relaxing, I doused the fire hurled my gear into the
truck and fumbled to start the engine.
My brain wouldn't stop imagining him lurking.
Just behind the tree line waiting for me to let my guard
down. Gravel crunched beneath my tires
as I tore out of that hidden spot.
Relief washed over me. The way I never truly felt safe
until I put miles between me and that Valley.
Later, once I reached familiar roads, my head was buzzing with
questions. Had he been there all night
watching me laugh at my podcast, sip beer by the fire completely
unaware of his presence. The idea made my skin crawl.
I remember almost thanking my own laziness for not bothering
to set up the tent. Those truck walls.
Had provided a barrier between me and whatever that man's
intentions might have been. Even now I'm not sure what he
was after. All I know is I'm certain it was
best, I didn't stick around to find out.
I remember how the fire crackled that evening casting jittery
Shadows across our campsite My parents were chatting with some
neighbors, swapping stories about fishing spots and the best
way to avoid skunks. Meanwhile, I was growing
Restless. My friend and I caught each
other's eye from across the fire and I knew exactly what he was
thinking. It was time for one of our
midnight strolls. I was so sure of myself back
then. I had been camping nearly every
summer of my life and thought I knew all the woods Secrets, what
animals emerged at dusk, which Trails looped back?
How far I could wander without getting lost.
But that night, something in the air felt different.
A murmur of apprehension. Nagged me though.
I refused to admit it maybe it was the way the moon seems
swallowed up by clouds or how the forest beyond our tents
seemed darker than usual. As if the trees themselves were
pressing in Whatever it was my confidence teetered, but Pride
kept me pushing forward. I motion discreetly to my friend
and we Slipped Away. There's a certain thrill in
leaving the glow of a campfire and stepping into near total
darkness. Twigs snapped under our shoes
and the smell of damp Earth, hung thick like a warning.
We chose to ignore We usually hovered around the outskirts of
our family site, close enough to see the Ember of our fire
through the leaves. But that night we decided to
test our boundaries forging deeper into the unknown.
The farther we went the quieter. Everything became You'd think a
forest would be loud at night with all the Crickets and
nocturnal creatures. But this silence was Heavy,
almost too heavy. It filled my head and every tiny
noise like the rustle of a branch or the crunch of damp
leaves made me jump. My friend and I exchanged
nervous grins but there was a tension behind them.
We were both searching, the dark spaces between trunks half
expecting something to appear. After a while, it occurred to
me, we were much deeper than usual.
I glanced back hoping to catch a reassuring glimmer of our
campfire. But saw only shifting Shadows.
That's when I first heard, what sounded like a voice as if
someone was whispering a secret right behind me.
My body tensei. My friend, snapped his flash
light on the bright beam tearing through the blackness.
We both spun around scanning for anything.
Just Forest Twisted knotted trees.
Fallen branches. No figures, no faces.
I told myself, I was overreacting a trick of the wind
maybe except there was no wind that night.
The air was thick and still we hovered there.
An uneasy silence. Our own ragged breathing
sounding embarrassingly loud. Finally, we turned our
flashlights off again? Stubborn Pride.
This was supposed to be our tradition, right?
If we gave up every time the woods spooked us, we wouldn't be
half as tough as we like to pretend.
Still, we picked up the pace deciding maybe we'd gone far
enough for one night. I tried to laugh at all calling
myself a baby but the joke fell flat.
My friend didn't respond. Just kept glancing behind us as
though he expected something to Lunge out at any moment.
Another whisper drifted, through the darkness.
This time it was clearer. Something almost like syllables.
No, meaning just raw sound like a half-formed sentence.
My pulse throbbed in my ears. We froze.
Not sure whether to bolt back to camp in a Sprint or stand our
ground. fear Ward with curiosity, for the first time, I
realized that, if we'd misjudged where we were, we could be lost
and there's a certain panic and not knowing if you're close to
safety or miles from it, I nudged my friend without a word,
we turned back the way we came. We wanted to believe we were
still in familiar territory, but everything looked different in
the dark. Every knotted trunk seemed like
an unfamiliar face every shifting Shadow a hidden threat.
The air felt charged with a strange energy sending prickles
up my arms. Then came a jolt of realization.
We warned hearing nighttime Critters or a breeze stirring
leaves. Something was out here, making
those sounds? Something with a voice.
And it didn't feel like a Wandering camper singing off key
or whispering to a friend. It sounded.
Wrong. We walked faster, my flash light
quivered in my grip. each step crackled over Fallen branches as
if we were broadcasting, our presence for all the forest to
notice My friend, locked eyes with me.
And in that glance, I saw the same mix of fear and stubborn
determination If we weren't about to break into a panicked
run, not yet. But deep down, I think both of
us wanted to Branches scraped against our arms, snagging our
sleeves, the hush of the forest turned oppressive.
Like it was holding its breath waiting to see what we do next.
Just when I thought my nerves couldn't stretch, any tighter,
another whisper slice through the silence.
It was close. So close.
I almost felt it on the back of my neck.
My friend and I stopped dead. We exchanged a look that all but
screamed, this is enough. We had no clue what was lurking
out here but it wasn't something we wanted to meet.
We switched on our flash lights without hesitation this time.
Sweeping the beams over the undergrowth.
My mouth parched my throat tight.
I just wanted to see a familiar Landmark.
Anything to assure me? We were on the right path home.
but the light revealed only more trees, more endless, dark A
swell of dread Rose in me. It wasn't just about being lost.
It was the sinking sense that something or someone was out
here, moving, just out of sight watching, I grabbed my friend's
arm and pulled him forward. We both knew we had to keep
going, had to get back to our campsites, Warm Glow, where
maybe we could laugh this off in the safety of flickering
firelight, But a deep part of me knew that, even if we managed to
find our way home, the night wouldn't let us off so easily.
Something had changed and the forest wasn't about to let us
forget how vulnerable we truly were. by the time, my friend and
I decided we couldn't push our luck any further the darkness
around us felt almost suffocating We forced ourselves
to keep moving toward what we hoped was the way back, every
step, echoing like a beacon in unfamiliar territory.
The quiet we'd been half ignoring earlier.
Now felt unsettlingly total. Even though there were two of
us, I couldn't help feeling like a loan trespasser in a place
where we didn't belong. I raised my flash light heart
pounding against my ribs. Something flicker to cross the
edge of its beam, a shape, hunched in the undergrowth.
In that Split Second. Every Instinct shouted to turn
around and run but my feet stayed rooted. my friend caught
sight of it too and his grip tightened on my arm neither of
us spoke We just stared as the figure crawled almost slithered
through a patch of Dead Leaves. Ragged clothes clung to them,
dark tattered, cloth, streaked with mud.
At first, I couldn't decide if it was human or animal, The
posture seemed off. But a muffled voice reached my
ears. Words, tumbled out though, they
were strange and half-formed almost as if the speaker had
forgotten how language was supposed to work. my friend
flicked, his flashlight, higher Illuminating, the person's face
She was a woman, her features pinched with fear or delirium.
Dirt smeared her cheek and her hair.
Stuck out in clumps. She looked at us with wide
frantic eyes. I stood there two stun to move
the woman pulled herself, upright swaying dangerously and
mumbled something about finding her campsite There was a
desperation in her voice that felled all wrong.
This far into the woods. Part of me wanted to back away.
Everything about her presence set off, internal alarms but she
looked helpless in a way that couldn't be ignored.
My friend and I exchanged glances and even though I was
terrified, I knew we had to do something.
We offered to guide her back to the main grounds and she mumbled
What Might Have Been a? Yes Without warning, she lurched
forward wobbling, like she might collapse any second.
I stepped in to keep her from tumbling into a bush and that
close. I noticed an odd chemical smell
on her breast. Alcohol.
Maybe something else too. Her eyes darted around as if
searching for something lurking in the shadows.
We set off in a slow shuffle. Each of us supporting her on an
elbow. The Journey Back felt endless.
every so often, she'd muttered disjointed phrases, a name, a
random number, a broken sentence, the trail off once she
stopped all together, scanning the dark spaces between the
trees as if convinced somebody else was out there.
I found myself scanning too imagining shapes slipping
between trunks just out of sight.
Twig snapped beneath our feet, but I still have suspected.
We were the only ones walking that path.
The woman, let out a gasp at one point and for a moment I feared
she'd bolt back into the darkness.
My friend, and I tightened our hold urging her to keep moving.
The forest pressed in on us. Amazed of silhouetted, branches,
and wet leaves that crushed underfoot.
Despite our flash lights, the trail was hard to follow.
I found myself. Squinting ahead searching for
even the faintest glow from the campgrounds, eventually.
The tree line began to thin revealing a dull orange flicker
of a campfire in the distance. Relief surged through me.
But it was laced with the sense of unease like stepping into a
safe Zone while still expecting trouble to pounce from behind.
When we finally staggered Out of the Woods, a group of people buy
a smoldering fire, pit glanced our way.
They looked as disoriented as the woman herself.
One of them recognized her and came stumbling forward.
Slurring something about how she'd wandered off after a late
night drink, they seemed clueless about how long she'd
been gone. My friend and I could barely
wrap our heads around that considering how close she'd come
to being lost for good. We helped her sit on a log by
their dying fire and the group thanked us in a half days,
unbothered way. No questions about the unnerving
Trek through pitch black woods or the bizarre rambling.
She'd uttered along the path. Just a casual shrug of relief,
like it was no big deal. My friend and I stepped away,
still rattled, the tension from that search in the dark clung to
us and everything about our own. Campsite our families chatting,
the warm flicker of our own fire.
Now felt like a Haven. We take him for granted I
couldn't stop replaying the moment.
We first caught sight of her crawling form in the flashlight
beam. If we chosen a different path or
left even a minute earlier, we might never have crossed her
Trail. We walked back in near silence
each lost in our own thoughts. The woods seemed calmer here,
maybe because the camp was so close.
But I caught myself. Glancing behind me, expecting to
see some other figure staggering out of the Shadows.
Even safe in The Ring of familiar, tents and hushed
conversation. A part of me stayed on edge.
I knew I wouldn't sleep soundly that night, maybe not for the
rest of the trip. Our families asked if we had fun
on our walk and we fed them some half-truths.
We weren't ready to relive the details and they probably
wouldn't have believed how creepy the whole thing felt.
Later, when I tried to rest, I kept picturing the woman's dirt
streaked face in the haunted. Look, she'd give the trees
around us. In some dark corner of my
imagination. I swore there were Whispers
drifting around still calling out in the Silent Forest waiting
for the next pair of unsuspecting kids, Brave or
foolish enough to venture too far off the beaten path.
I should have known the night would be different.
The second been rolled up in that old sedan he'd borrowed
from his brother. Usually we relied on battered
skateboards or our own two feet for these late-night Hangouts,
but something about having a car at our disposal made everything
feel way more daring. Ben's grin told me, he was
itching to push our usual boundaries and Mark and Josh had
that same spark in their eyes. We piled in the seats creaking
beneath us and my nerves started.
Buzzing the instant been turned the key.
The headlights sliced, through the darkness, as we backed out
of my driveway, like we were on some secret mission.
Nobody mentioned a destination. We just drove letting the quiet
roads guide us wherever they felt like leading.
I remember trying to crack a few jokes.
Maybe poke fun at the squeaky belt in the engine, but my voice
sounded strained. Deep down I couldn't shake the
anxiety. That tonight held an edge.
I hadn't felt before the highways were ghostly, the moon,
hid behind layers of thick clouds and the few Vehicles.
We passed seemed in a hurry to vanish.
Even the passing signs. Those that lit up under our
headlights felt somehow ominous, like they'd been left their
decades ago and never replaced. Mark elbowed me in the backseat
muttering. Something about how cool it
would be if we found an abandoned playground or an old
factory to explore. I tried to nod along but the
silence in the car seemed heavier than usual wrapping
around us. Every time we stop talking.
Eventually been pointed at the fuel gauge with a curse.
We were running low. So he said he'd pull off at the
next station. He saw We found one a grimy
little place with a single humming fluorescent light.
It looked half dead like nobody had bothered to give it a Fresh
coat of painting years. Still, it was our only option.
So we tumbled out of the car stretching stiff Limbs and
blinking, against the flickering glow.
I took a few steps away from the car to scope out the area.
The night are tasted slightly stale, but there was also a dank
earthy. Smell lingering.
That's when I noticed a sign at the edge of the lot.
It was old peeling, but I could just make out the words.
Forest, Preserve entrance beneath a layer of moss.
Right away. I had this creeping sense that
we weren't meant to be here. Mark, on the other hand was
practically giddy. He kept nudging, been and Josh
telling them, we should check it out.
Been eyes gleaming with. Mischief went along with my
prodding Josh Shrugged half smiling, like he was up for
anything as long as we didn't bail on him.
I watched them gather near the broken fence that led into The
Preserve. My pulse hammered in my ears.
I told them. I wasn't so sure.
That maybe we should stick to safer spots for once.
But that didn't slow their enthusiasm.
They insisted. It'd be quick, just a peek and
that we'd find a trail cutting straight through to another gas
station on the opposite side. I wish I could say, I found a
solid excuse, some Ironclad reason to keep us out of those
trees, but I only muttered a half-hearted protests before
following them back to the car. My footsteps felt like lead and
that heaviness in the air was Stronger.
The closer we got to the tree line The headlights briefly lit
up the first few trunks revealing, Tangles of branches
overhead, the shapes Twisted in a way that made my stomach.
Not I couldn't bring myself to enter that path and I finally
admitted it out. Loud.
Look, I'll meet you all on the other side.
I said, trying not to sound terrified.
The plan, if you could call it, that was for them to cut
straight through The Preserve while I walked around on the
main roads. They teased me, called me, the
cautious one but I could tell none of us was really laughing.
Something about those woods seemed off even to them.
So I watched them disappear into that Blackness three moving
Silhouettes swallowed by the trees. that was the moment when
I felt sure, we'd cross some unspoken boundary My heart was
thumping, but I forced myself to turn away.
Determined to stick to the roads.
As I said off, the wind picked up rustling leaves somewhere
behind me or maybe it was just my imagination.
Either way, I started walking faster.
I had no clue then just how bad things would get or the site.
That would greet me at that next gas station.
All I knew was that I didn't trust those woods and even with
the uneasy feeling trailing me, it felt safer on the open road,
looking back. I guess that's small.
Spark of caution, might have saved me from whatever lurked in
those trees, but it also left me alone, pacing empty streets in
the pitch, black with nothing. To distract me from the endless
possibilities. My mind kept Conjuring.
I kept reminding myself. It was only a 30 minute walk
around the perimeter, but it might as well have been hours.
The roads were eerily quiet, no headlights passing by no distant
hum of late night traffic, just the soft crunch of my shoes
against the gravel shoulder and my imagination going wild.
Every so often I'd glance back half expecting to see the others
trailing behind me. But no one emerged from that
dark tree line. The gas station, finally came
into view alone. Beacon of fluorescent glow.
In the distance. My relief was short-lived
though, as soon as I stepped onto the cracked asphalt, that
weird tension in the air. Hit me like a wave.
I appeared through the glass door searching for any sign of
my friends. The board clerk at the register
glanced up. Gave me a nod then went back to
his magazine. Apparently three frantic
teenagers had not come flying through the door.
I lingered by the cold beverage coolers trying to look casual 10
minutes, ticked by 10,000.3, long minutes.
Mark, Josh and Ben were nowhere to be found.
I started to wonder if they decided to bail and head back to
the car or Worse. Maybe something had happened
inside those woods. I was trying to Tamp down my
anxiety with logical explanations, but it was no
good. Each passing moment, tightened
the knot in my stomach, the door jingled behind me, but it was
just an older woman, buying a late-night snack.
I asked the clerk if he'd noticed three teenage guys,
wandering in and he gave me a flat out, no My nerves were
about to boil over. One part of me considered
charging straight back into the forest.
Another part insisted I'd be insane to do that alone.
Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps, clattering on the
concrete outside. I spun around just as Mark Josh
and been tore around the corner of the building.
They looked wrecked drenched in sweat faces pale eyes, darting
everywhere. I rushed to meet them.
Feeling a weird mix of relief and Terror.
If they were safe enough to run that meant, they were alive.
But their expressions said they'd come far too close to
something. We tumbled into the gas
stations, tiny seating area, the harsh lighting, made them look
even more rattled. Nobody could talk for the first
few seconds. They were panting and leaning
over the small plastic table like they just sprinted a
marathon. What happened?
I finally managed to get out. Barely above a whisper been
tried to speak but ended up shaking his head.
As if words were enough Mark took a shaky breath then started
explaining halfway through the path.
They noticed, weird noises behind them like crunching
leaves and snapping twigs. At first, they thought maybe it
was a deer but it grew heavier more deliberate.
Than they spotted it a tall pale figure among the trees.
The shape was vaguely human, but bulkier and unnaturally long
limbed with burning red eyes that seemed locked onto them.
My mind went blank for a second, I'd heard plenty of ghosts
stories from the guys before but none of them had ever looked
this spooked Josh added his piece describing, the sounds of
branches cracking like something big was pushing through at high
speed pursuing them. The moment, they glimpsed those
eyes logic, went out the window. They just bolted not caring.
What they tripped over or how loud they screamed.
I pictured them crashing through the undergrowth chased by
something, they couldn't explain.
The thought made my skin crawl. They said when they finally
reached the edge of the forest, they could sense that presence
still behind them breathing thrashing through leaves until
they burst out onto the road. That was the first time they
felt it hesitate. Mark said he looked back and
caught one. Final Glimpse, the thing stood
at the edge of the trees, unmoving, like it was testing
whether to follow. Then with no warning, it just
sort of vanished back into the darkness.
I asked if maybe they were messing with me, but their
expressions didn't waive her. Josh had tears in his eyes, he
was trying to hide and been looked on the verge of
hyperventilating they were Beyond done with the Knights
adventure. And honestly, so was I the four
of us decided we'd had enough. We scrambled out side and
huddled together, scanning the tree line across the street.
My imagination made every shifting shadow look like that
pale shape was about to burst out again.
I swear none of us even blinked for a good minute.
We must have looked like a bunch of cornered animals.
Finally, I managed to break the spell.
Urging us to get back to the sedan.
Our nerves practically screamed at us to run.
So we did The journey down the road to the car felt like
sprinting, a gauntlet each step fueled by a desperation to put
as much distance as possible between us and whatever had
proud those woods. When we reached the vehicle been
fumbled with the keys for a good few seconds before getting the
door unlocked. My heart hammered so loudly.
I was sure. Everyone else could hear it.
We piled in and slammed the doors.
As if that ancient metal frame could protect us from all the
horrors out there. No one said anything for the
first mile or two of the drive home?
We just stared at the passing scenery deserted.
Sidewalks empty Fields the occasional flickering
streetlight. Every dark corner felt like, it
might be hiding that same entity we'd left behind.
By the time, we finally saw the faint outlines of our own
neighborhood. The sky was starting to lighten.
Not enough to wash away our fear though I'd never been so happy
to see my own driveway. We sat there for a second and
engine ticking exhausted beyond words gradually we mumbled quick
goodbyes and stumbled out each of us, craving the safety of our
rooms. That night or what was left of
it? Barely let me rest.
Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured that looming shape.
I replayed my friends frantic breaths and trembling voices.
We'd always thought we were Unstoppable.
Just a bunch of teens chasing. The thrill of exploring creepy
spots. But this was different and we
all felt it. Something was out there Beyond
any rumor or urban legend we joked about before.
And After experiencing that kind of Terror firsthand, we knew our
late night Adventures had changed forever.
I woke up that morning with a weird mixture of excitement and
nerves thinking the trip to dahili in Buchanan.
On Park would be smooth. Sailing.
My cousins and I were crammed into the back of my uncle's big
SUV, giggling over. Who would get the window seat?
We had snacks music and all the naive optimism in the world.
If I had known what was coming, I probably would have stayed in
bed. The GPS was the first problem,
though. I didn't see it at the time.
We were so sure this fancy app would guide us perfectly my
uncle whose usually a careful driver, put all his faith in
that digital voice telling us where to turn the day started,
bright the sky. So blue at almost hurt my eyes
when I glanced out the window. Everything seemed perfect at
least until we left the familiar Main Highway.
We ended up on a narrower road that slithered through some
thick trees. At first, it felt like an
adventure, like we were discovering a Hidden Gem.
My mom perched in the front seat, leaned forward,
double-checking the map on her phone.
She mumbled something in cebuano under her breath and I caught
the serious look in her eyes. She started asking my uncle to
slow down, repeating it in a tighter voice.
The sunlight kept slipping lower and lower and a dull, orange
glow, tinted, everything around us.
It created this weird sense that time was running out like we
needed to find our way before. Darkness took over The SUV's
Wheels, crunched on gravel as the path beneath us.
Grew, even more precarious. One side was a tumble of Rocky
drop offs. The other side looked like a
barricade of looming trunks. My stomach nodded every time the
car swayed a bit too close to the edge eventually.
My head got heavy from the tension and I started drifting
off in my seat. I tried to keep my eyes shut,
hoping it would calm me down. Suddenly, my mom's voice, got
sharper. Telling my uncle again, to be
careful. I peered outside and realized
the road had become ridiculously thin.
It felt like we were driving on a ribbon of land suspended over
some dark pit I couldn't see and I forced myself to breathe
slowly. My cousins who had been
laughing, just an hour earlier were dead quiet.
One of them clutched. The seat in front of him, as if
that could keep us from veering off the edge.
The tension in the SUV was almost suffocating.
My eyes darted around noticing how the trees kept pressing in
almost as if they didn't want us there.
When my uncle tried to crack a joke, something about how
adventurous we were. I didn't even fake a laugh.
I just wanted this part of the drive to be over.
We crawled forward inch by inch the cars.
Headlights started to make everything look more Sinister
than it. Should Illuminating random
branches that stretched out, like thin arms, the sunset had
nearly vanished, so our own lights were the only thing
guiding us. My mom's voice, grew louder each
time the SUV jolted, and my uncle's Knuckles turned white
around the steering wheel. Then up ahead, I saw a slightly
wider patch of dirt, a spot where we could maybe turn around
Relief fluttered through me, but I was still on edge, my uncle
inch, the vehicle forward tires, kicking small, rocks into the
darkness below. this was the moment, we'd all been holding
our breath for Could we actually make that turn without tipping?
The entire car seemed to shift as my uncle ease.
The steering wheel backing up and turning in tiny increments.
My heart hammered so loudly that I was sure the others could hear
it too. I watched the side mirror nearly
scraped against a protruding rock wall.
At the same time, the other side of the SUV felt like it was
hovering over emptiness, but my uncle kept going focusing on my
mom's guidance, as she checked the wheel clearance, when we
finally completed that three-point turn, the cars knows
pointed downhill again, and I realized I was practically
shaking from the tension. My mom, let out a wavering sigh
and my cousins exhaled all at once.
Even my uncle who tried to stay calm showed this nervous grin.
That told me he was just as relieved as the rest of us.
I looked outside the same path. That felt impossible just
moments ago, suddenly seemed like the only safe direction we
had. We started heading back toward
what we hoped was a main road. My uncle sped up ever.
So slightly and I felt a flicker of hope that the worst part was
behind us. My mom kept watch at the window,
still Whispering that we'd made the right choice by turning
around. I remember thinking nothing
could top the terror of that narrow road and that we'd never,
again, trust a phone app with our lives.
But a tiny voice in my head warned me, we warned off the
hook yet. The sky was darkening rapidly
and we still had hours of driving ahead hours.
I had a feeling would test our nerves in ways.
We weren't prepared for and so with that tense, U-turn behind
us, we pressed on My family tried to act normal, but the
rattled energy in the car, clung to us like a static charge.
I stared through the window hoping for city lights or any
sign of civilization while the last streaks of daylight
vanished We all silently wondered if our Excursion would
lead to something better or if we'd stumble into something even
more unsettling, just around the bend.
We'd been on the road longer than planned, but my uncle
seemed determined to find another way to dahle in Buchanan
Park. The days earlier, scare still
lingered in my mind making every minute feel heavier, the GPS had
lost our trust so he relied on a faint memory of Backroads, he
was sure he'd taken years ago. There were no streetlights out
here. Just the glow of our headlights
sweeping across endless rows of looming trunks.
The night felt darker than usual like a thick curtain.
We couldn't push aside. I tried to look out the windows
but there was nothing but the reflection of our own anxious
faces. My mom huddled up front
murmuring that maybe we'd be better off pulling over and
waiting until daylight. My uncle insisted, we keep going
convinced the main road was just a bit further.
As we pressed on the path turned rough.
Loose gravel rattled under the tires with every bump, a wave of
tension rippled through everyone.
In the SUV, the interior light was off, but even in the dim
glow, from the dash, I could see worry at my cousin's faces.
They clutched their seats as though, bracing themselves for
another unexpected. Drop off.
Meanwhile, like I could barely ignore the unsettled feeling in
my gut a warning sign. I couldn't struggle away.
Then the SUV rolled to a halt, the headlights revealed, the
road simply Ended as though, some giant hand had torn it
away. My uncle killed the engine for a
moment muttering about how something wasn't right outside
the dark stretched out on all sides.
The silence was so absolute. I could almost hear my own
pulse. My mom coaxed him into stepping
out to see if maybe there was a hidden turn or a gap.
We hadn't noticed. When he opened the door, a blast
of cold air whipped inside it smelled earthy.
Damp almost like the area wanted to swallow us whole I leaned
forward, trying to catch a glimpse from where I sat, but my
uncle had disappeared into the Blackness.
All of us stayed quiet waiting until his figure flickered back
into the Headlights by his expression.
I knew there was nothing else out there.
No quick path to Salvation. He climbed back in locked, the
door and flicked on the high beams.
That's when I noticed a row of Silhouettes.
People clustered just beyond the tree line.
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks.
But know, there were multiple figures standing two, still.
My mom whispered under her breath asking who they could be
no one had an answer. The Strangers didn't wave us
down. Didn't call for help.
They just remained there which was somehow more unsettling than
if they'd shouted or approached. My uncle hesitated like he was
debating whether to call out or Flash the horn.
My heart hammered so hard. I could barely Focus the two or
three seconds. He spent in that indecision felt
like an eternity. Finally, he slid the SUV into
reverse, and I felt that creeping worry, intensified
those people didn't move as our headlights, panned away, if they
were Travelers, they would have done something asked for
assistance, or signaled, a warning.
Instead, they just observed us, my body felt drained, the days
stressed, catching up to me. I must have dozed off for a bit
and sheer exhaustion. Next thing, I knew the rumble of
the engine had changed tone. We were on paved road.
Again, lights gleamed in the distance.
Actual City Lights. The kind.
I never thought I'd be so relieved to see my mother
pointed out a 7-Eleven and my uncle quickly pulled in just
like that. It felt like we'd rejoined
reality. Climbing out of the SUV.
I noticed my legs were shaky. The stores neon sign, lit up the
parking lot in an artificial glow.
We piled inside for warm food and something to drink.
My cousin seemed to snap out of their days.
They grabbed hot dogs chips. Anything to fill the gnawing
hunger. My mom looked around like she
could hardly believe we were safe.
Eating never felt so comforting. yet every bite reminded me of
that uneasy darkness and the silent group, we left behind my
uncle muttered that he'd never trust that old routine and I was
ready to agree with him a thousand percent.
Part of me needed, a moment to catch my breath and really
process the fact that we escaped.
But a deeper worry, wouldn't let go.
What if we'd stayed just a minute longer?
with those people have a Would we have gone missing Without a
Trace? Even though the worst had
passed, the images wouldn't leave my mind.
Sometimes the most terrifying experience is aren't the near
accidents on a narrow road. They're the ones.
You can't logically explain those Watchers in the shadows,
the question of why they were out there in the middle of
nowhere. Gave me more sleepless nights
than the thought of tumbling off a cliff.
The hum of the 7-Elevens cooling system and the fluorescent
lights, offered a false sense of security. my mom patted my
shoulder asking if I was okay, I nodded my eyes drifting toward
the darkness outside, half expecting to see those figures
again, we'd found our way back onto the main road this time,
but a little piece of me stayed behind in that Forest haunted by
the unknown. If I learned anything, it's that
not every road on a map is meant to be traveled, not by us.
Anyway, we'd stumbled onto something beyond our
understanding and maybe we'd done the smart thing by leaving
quickly. Some nights though.
I wonder if I prefer having a good explanation over that Eerie
silence that Kings to me. Still I decided on a whim to
head out to San Felipe Road at around 3, in the morning,
dragging a couple of friends along for the ride.
We figured we'd drive until we got that creeped out thrilled.
You only feel in the dark when the world seems a little too
quiet. The minute we turned onto that
road, though. I knew we were in for something
else entirely. It was like the temperature
around us dipped the second. We passed the final Street Lamp.
Even the air, tasted heavier, the fog showed up out of
nowhere. One moment, we could see a good
stretch of road. The next we were practically
crawling along trying not to drive off into the trees.
Our headlights cut through milky walls, that made the whole place
look like a dream or maybe a nightmare.
The car fell silent as the driver eased up on the gas.
I caught myself gripping the passenger door handle pulse
Racing for reasons. I couldn't quite pin down after
a few minutes, someone in the back asked, if we were sure
about this, which sent a ripple of second, thoughts through me,
But I kept telling myself, we'd be fine.
We weren't exactly Ghost Hunters, just a bunch of night
owls, looking for a little excitement.
The Emptiness of the road though, had a weight to it.
That pressed on my thoughts. It felt like everything around
us was watching even though I couldn't spot a single living
thing through the fog. Eventually my eyes locked on a
vague shape ahead, barely visible beyond the headlights.
It was so faint. I thought I might be seeing
patches of Miss swirling in a weird pattern.
But the driver cursed under his breath, he spotted it too.
He slowed to a near stop trying to figure out what we were
looking at. I leaned forward squinting.
My pulse hammering away. The outline was odd kind of
box-like except the edges rippled like they couldn't
decide if they wanted to stay solid my nerves flared and
everything in me wanted to tell him to hit the gas.
Before I could speak, one of my friends, in the back started
yelling, they sounded scared out of their mind, pointing to
something up in a massive tree. They kept insisting, they could
make out a heavy form with fur some sort of claws, scraping the
bark. I swear, I only Glimpse to
flicker of movement it might have been a branch shifting in
the wind but the panic in my friend's voice set otherwise The
driver slammed down the accelerator and we shot forward
in a blind rush to get away. All the while I was convinced we
were about to crash. The fog seems thicker.
Now as if the road wanted to keep us there, the engine
roared, everyone was yelling at once and fear rattled around
inside my head. I glanced back half expecting to
see some monstrosity bounding after us, but it was just a blur
of headlights on white mist. My chest felt like it was going
to burst from the pressure of pure raw panic.
Somehow we ended up on a clearer stretch, and the fog.
Lifted. It was jarring going from that
suffocating blanket to an almost normal Road.
We all took a second to breathe but the car was filled with this
shared dread. Nobody knew what to say did we
really see something or was it a trick of light in fog?
One thing was certain, if we did see what we thought we did.
We sure as hell wanted. No part of it.
It wasn't until we got even farther away.
That words came back to us. Everyone tried to talk at once,
each describing a slightly different horror.
The driver couldn't shake the image of that transparent boxy,
thing near the base of the tree. The two in the back were still
reeling over the creature. They were convinced was clinging
to the trunk. Personally I didn't know what to
think. All I knew was the road felt
more hostile than any place I had ever been.
And I was ready to put as many miles between us and San Felipe
as possible. When we finally came to a stop
safe on a wider, stretch of highway, nobody could ignore how
shaken we were. We stayed in the car with the
doors locked, just sitting there hearing our own breathing,
trying to puzzle out how a stupid idea for a late-night
Drive turned into, something that left us cold with fear.
I don't remember who broke the silence but they said exactly
what I was already feeling. We're never going back there
again. No one argued after that
harrowing night, I couldn't bring myself to sleep more than
a couple of hours. Every time I shut my eyes
flashes of fog, shrouded roads and warped.
Shapes hit me like a twisted real on replay.
It wasn't just me everyone. In our group was rattled, we
texted each other at weird times, sharing bits of restless
frustration, and Half Baked theories about what we'd
witnessed. Some suggested we'd seen a wild
animal other swore it was something far beyond that but as
the hours slipped by curiosity snuck up on us.
Despite the knots in our stomachs, we agreed to head
back. Yes, back.
Just to confirm, we weren't losing our minds.
Part of me screamed that I should let it go.
But a stronger part insisted on a second look.
Maybe we needed proof. We weren't collectively.
Hallucinating. We waited until midnight, then
drove intense silence, through familiar streets.
The closer we got to San Felipe, the more my nerves wound,
tighter. The road was still an unnerving.
Clear tonight, all the fog gone, like it had never existed.
The driver slowed near the spot where everything went haywire
before. Even though the headlights swept
over the same towering tree, the branches looked different in the
glare. No trace of that boxy Phantom.
No sign of the bulky. Claude figure gripping the
trunk. We pulled over to the side
Hearts pounding but kept the engine running like we needed a
safety net in case anything lunged out from the Shadows.
I stepped out half expecting something to charge it at us
from the darkness. The air was Chris almost two
quiet. I circled the tree where we'd
first Glimpse the nightmare shining a flash light up the
trunk. I wanted to see if there were
any scraps of fur Footprints, anything that could validate our
story. The Bark had a few deep
scratches but for all I knew they could have been there for
years. No, weird Footprints, no slime,
no matted fur, just our Collective dread and a big tree
rustling in the light Breeze. Standing, there made me feel
exposed like Eyes hidden among the branches were sizing me up.
I kept spinning around scanning the tree line with my
flashlight. Each brush of leaves against
leaves, made me jump, it was obvious, I wasn't going to find
any neat evidence, but I still lingered as if a clue might
materialize out of thin air. Eventually, we decided we'd seen
enough. That's when the first wave of
real paranoia saying in. Maybe we were being watched.
The idea whispered through my head, something could be
crouched behind those trunks silently observing.
The only thing we heard though was our own unsteady breathing
in the occasional shift of undergrowth So we made a quick
exit, feeling foolish that we'd even bothered to come back.
Afterward we drove aimlessly for a bit trying to calm down.
Nobody wanted to go home just yet so we ended up in a deserted
parking lot. All of us, wired and rattled.
We swapped stories. We'd heard about San Felipe
Tales of a solitary figure robed in Black weird.
Echoing through the trees monstrous Silhouettes, slinking
passed unsuspecting drivers, Some accounts sounded bizarre.
But honestly after what we'd seen, I was in no position to
dismiss anything outright Over the next few nights, The Dread
followed me, like a shadow. Each time I shut off the lights
in my room, I had sense that thick fog creeping back into my
thoughts. If a branch tapped against the
window I jolt upright, convinced something was trying to claw its
way inside. My dreams were worse nightmares
where I'd be stuck on San Felipe alone.
Shining a flash light onto a hallowed creature perched on a
tree. Sometimes it would crawl down
toward me and I'd wake up in a trembling Panic wishing I could
forget every detail. The others described similar
dreams glimpses of that shapeless.
Boxy thing hovering over them or Twisted figures prowling along
the roadside A friend claimed, they heard footsteps outside
their window, late at night. Another said they saw fleeting
movement in their peripheral vision whenever they thought
about that drive. We wondered if any of it was
real or just our imaginations running wild.
Either way, it was seeping into every corner of our lives.
I tried to push it all aside and get back to some sense of
normal. But each time I glanced at the
map and saw how close my house was to that Eerie stretch of
road, a pit opened in my stomach.
It nodded me, that the weird sightings had happened
practically in my backyard. Rumors started, swirling about
other people, spotting things or hearing whales, that resembled a
person's scream. Someone even mentioned hooded
figures lurking by the trees at dawn.
Every new story kept the anxiety alive.
I tell myself I was done with that road that I had no reason
to risk it again. Yet.
Deep down part of me, wanted another shot at understanding.
What was it about that place? Why did the fog roll in there
like a deliberate? Cloak one moment then vanish
without warning the next. And what was that square-ish
translucent form or that heavy fur covered shape in the tree
for now though, none of us had the nerve to investigate
further. We'd already learned our lesson.
Whether it was some strange animal, a supernatural force or
pure Collective hysteria. We didn't want to provoke it.
Our nightmares were bad enough. So we kept to our lit up
streets, tried to fill our days with normal routine and clung to
the hope that whatever lurked out there in the darkness would
stay far. Far away from the safety of our
homes. If it decided, otherwise I
wasn't sure we'd be prepared to face it again.
I'd been driving for what felt like ages.
Chasing The Horizon in a half awake state.
The clock on the dash, kept taunting me with 3:48 a.m. then
3:49 like each minute was dragging itself across my
nerves, the highway stretched on in a straight line, dark and
empty. And the cold managed to seep
through every crack in my old Dodge.
There were moments when I thought about just pulling over
and sleeping for a couple of hours but the fuel gauge needle,
dipped closer to empty every time I glanced at it.
So, I pushed on, when I finally spotted lights, my first
reaction was sheer relief. Until I actually got close
enough to see what I was dealing with.
It wasn't a bustling rest, stop or even a brightly lit,
convenience store. Instead a single flickering,
Street Lamp revealed a tiny gas station that looked like it
belonged in another decade. The paint had chipped off the
walls. The windows on the adjacent
shops were either boarded up or covered with a layer of grime.
So thick, you couldn't see inside.
It reminded me of one of those sets they use for low-budget
horror flicks. Perfectly quiet.
Perfectly still and way too inviting for trouble.
I stepped out of my truck and the biting are made me wince my
breath, hung in front of my face for a split second before.
Drifting off the silence around me was so thick that every
movement fell magnified, the pump made a doll Hub as I slid
my car and tried not to think about how dark everything was
beyond that single pool of light.
Not a single car passed on the road behind me.
The whole place seemed deserted like I had wandered into a
forgotten world. Then I saw it.
The outline of a sleek black lowrider at the back of the
building almost swallowed by Shadows.
I hadn't noticed it at first, probably because the car is
tinted windows. In Midnight.
Paint job seemed tailor-made for Blending into the Gloom.
Standing around. It were four guys who looked
like they belonged anywhere, but this freezing Ghost Town,
tattoos stretched across their arms.
Covering most of their Exposed Skin, they wore shorts, tank
tops, and high socks acting like the temperature did in matter.
The quiet grew even heavier. As I realized they were not
chatting or moving around. They were just leaning there
watching me fill the tank. My heart felt like it wanted to
LEAP straight up my throat but I tried to keep calm focusing on
the pump. Like it was the most fascinating
thing in the universe. The neon bulb above me.
Buzzed and flickered, occasionally, bathing them.
In a sudden light that made their tattoos shine.
I wasn't sure if they'd been waiting for me to notice them or
if this was just chance. But the moment felt loaded with
tension their eyes though. I could barely see them in that
half light. Seemed to lock on me and I
didn't sense. Any hint of friendliness.
They started moving my way in unison.
Slow. When deliberate like they had
all the time in the world. This was when I realized how
alone I truly was no cashier behind the counter.
No late night, Travelers rolling in with headlights, slicing
through the dark. Just me my sputtering truck and
a half-lit station in the middle of nowhere.
My brain kicked into overdrive. Should I try to greet them?
Politely, pretend everything was normal or just get the hell out
of there? I decided to trust my gut, I
yanked, the nozzle free. Spilling some gas in my rush and
practically dove into my truck, the engine hesitated for a split
second before roaring to life in the rearview mirror.
I caught sight of them, stepping closer their Silhouettes,
looming larger, the overhead lamp, flickered.
A few times throwing their shapes in and out of view.
It was unsettling enough that I didn't even consider sticking
around to see what they wanted. Gripping the wheel, I slammed
the accelerator to the floor, the tires, spun briefly on the
cold pavement before the truck surged forward.
As I pulled out onto the road, I couldn't help glancing over my
shoulder. They were still there.
Just a few steps away from where I had been.
And I thought I caught a gleam in one of their gazes.
Under the dying florescent light.
My breath rattled in my chest, as I sped away the station.
Shrinking in the mirrors part of me, felt stupid for reacting
like that, maybe they were just harmless locals, but something
about that. Silent approach in those intense
stares convinced me, otherwise, the entire town or what passed
for one. Seemed to vanish behind me.
And I told myself, I wouldn't stop again until I hit a place
brimming with neon lights and other people.
Little did. I know my heartbeat was about to
spike all over again because the road behind me, wouldn't stay
empty for long. I had barely cleared that
rickety gas station when I caught headlights in the
rearview mirror, a Telltale sweep of harsh white cutting
across the road The rational part of me.
Hoped it was a coincidence. That maybe these guys were just
heading in the same direction out for a spin at an hour that
made zero sense to normal people, but this definitely
didn't feel normal. My hands started to shake on the
steering wheel and every nerve in my body went on high alert,
as those lights, grew stronger closing, the Gap, in seconds, my
old Dodge rattled, as I floored it the engine growling, like, it
was ready for a fight, the cold air blasting through the cracked
Windows whipped around me, and the tires screeched in protest.
When I veered onto the main Highway, In the mirrors, the
lowriders, shape cut through the darkness.
A Sleek Predator, hungry for a Chase.
They stuck to my tale for the first half, mile headlights,
flickering Against The Battered tailgate of my truck.
I kept praying to see any sign of other cars or some night
shift, folks, commuting somewhere.
But the highway was as empty as a tomb.
Just a set of bright beams bearing down on me.
The truck shuddered again, but it held on.
Which was a small miracle. I figured they assumed.
I was driving an underpowered, rust bucket, that would fold
Under Pressure. Poor assumption on their part,
my heart pounded so hard. That my breath kept catching in
my throat. The engine roared as we tore
along the open road and I leaned forward.
Silently begging. My truck for more speed. some
part of me, relished how unsuspecting my old rides,
seemed On the outside. It was all peeling paint and
squeaky belts. But beneath that hood, I'd put
in a performance-tuned Hemi, I never imagined, I'd actually be
relying on that secret weapon to outrun a group of shady
characters in the dead of night. But here we were, they tried to
keep up pushing that low rider for everything it had.
I saw them drawing closer in short bursts as though, maybe
they'd catch a draft or find a sweet spot behind me.
But each time I press down even harder on the gas.
The truck kept responding a deep Rumble matching, the adrenaline
flooding my veins. The lonely strip of asphalt.
Blurred under my headlights. Mile markers whipping past so
fast, I could hardly read them. If eventually the distance
started to stretch those headlights fell behind drifting
into smaller. And smaller specs, my heartbeat
was still slamming and I have expected them to pull off some
trick zigzagging onto a back road to cut me off.
Or maybe they'd radio for backup.
My imagination ran Wild. Conjuring up every worst case
scenario. but after a few more frantic minutes, their lights
diminished into the blackness. And I was left with only the
pounding of my pulse and the quiet hum of the highway.
I didn't let up on the gas for a long while.
Every time I told myself, they'd give up a sliver of Doubt,
prodded me to keep racing forward.
By the time I finally eased off the engine, let out a weary
cough. Like it was just as tense as I
was. I pulled over for a second
blinking, into the rear view to be.
Absolutely sure nothing was lurking back there.
Darkness. No headlights.
No sign of that lowrider. A shaky laugh tumbled out of me.
It sounded a little unhinged even to my own ears, maybe this
was the part where I was supposed to celebrate outrunning
them. But I felt more uneasy than
triumphant, whatever those guys were up to.
I wanted no part of it. No telling what could have gone
down. If they'd cornered me on a
lonely stretch of highway especially if they were more
than just Rowdy locals, the thought of it made my stomach
twists. I didn't share the story with
anyone until I got to a bigger town that morning.
After finding a place that served coffee, something cheap
and scalding. I started spilling the details
to a friend of mine. Who happened to be a local cop.
He listened hardly blinking. And by the time I reached the
part about the lowrider, roaring out from the station.
His expression said it all. He told me that route had a rep
for cartel runs, avoiding the main Interstate Patrols.
He said it so calmly like someone just talking about how
the weather might turn tomorrow. I felt my skin prickle as
everything clicked into place. Those tattoos that silent
confidence. I realized my run in might have
been more than just a bad luck in counter with local tough
guys. Maybe they wanted my truck.
Maybe they thought I was an easy target.
Who knows? He Shrugged and said, I was
lucky one of those times you outrun trouble before it drags
you into a place. You can't escape from Lucky.
Sure, but the relief I felt was tied up with a heavy dose of
dread because I knew I'd walked a Razors Edge without even
realizing it. The memory of that flickering
light at the gas station and those blank watchful faces, was
still burned into my mind and it made my teeth clenched every
time. I thought about how quiet they'd
been and that's basically where I left things.
I drove on praying. I'd never see another Ghost Town
station. Again, if I do, I'm rolling
right past it, no matter how low, my fuel gauge might be some
lessons, come wrapped in fear. And this one taught me that in
the middle of nowhere, anything can happen.
And it usually does when you're least prepared, I Woke Up Before
Dawn throwing my bag into the backseat of my Dusty sedan and
waving to my wife who was still half asleep on the porch.
We always exchange a few words before I head out, though,
neither of us expects anything thrilling to happen during that
long Trek across the Mojave. Once I got on the road, I dialed
her up again, just to keep myself company and settled into
the drive, resigned to the Endless Sea of cracked Earth and
Faded, Highway stripes, the sun, rose in slow increments, turning
the skyline, a hazy Orange Everything outside the window.
Felt stubbornly still like the desert itself was listening.
My wife's voice drifted in and out the signal wavering.
As I passed through spots where the terrain dipped truth be told
I was less focused on our conversation than on the
shimmering, blacktop stretching out in front of me.
A faint sense of nerves nodded me and I couldn't figure out
why. It was just a standard day, a
regular commute. But something about that morning
fell off. Like the land was warning me to
stay on high alert. After an hour or so, a
motorcycle appeared in the distance.
At first, it was just a flicker of movement alone.
Writer hugging the road weaving, expertly passed tumbleweeds in
sand drifts. I remember thinking he looked
too calm to assured, the speed limit out here is already high,
but he was pushing it even further, easily bouncing between
70 and 90. My wife asked if everything was
okay, probably sensing my distracted tone and I said
something vague about traffic as I continued.
I couldn't stop watching him. There's a certain
unpredictability to these desert, highways, a sudden Bend
can appear right after a deceptively straight mild.
Signs marked sharp curves at 45 miles per hour, but folks often
ignore them. Still seeing him approach a
particularly nasty turn at such a Breakneck Pace.
Made my stomach twists. I told my wife to hold on a
second, my eyes locked on the motorcycle.
The rider either didn't notice the sign or didn't care, he
didn't lean, he didn't slow in a blur.
He flew off the roads Edge. One moment he was there.
The next, he'd vanished swallowed by the drop off.
Beyond the guardrail. A harsh burst of panic, seized
me, and I uttered some kind of startled grunt into the phone.
My wife's voice spiked with alarm but I could barely speak.
My mind ran wild picturing Twisted Metal.
A figure sprawled in the desert. Scrub, I forced myself to end
the call. God knows what I sounded like
and jerked the wheel to pull onto the shoulder, the tires,
crunched over loose, gravel everything fell on real.
The sun was glaring in my eyes. My phone already in hand
dialing, 911, without me really thinking about it, That was the
moment. I realized, I might have just
witnessed something. No one would ever want to see.
Over the dispatcher's voice. I could hear my own breathing
ragged and uneven. With my kit under one arm, I
stepped out into the desert heat, my legs feeling strange.
Like they wanted to lock up That's when I peered over the
side, bracing for something horrific and knowing that no
matter what I found, I wouldn't be the same afterward.
I think. I nearly dropped my phone, as I
scrambled down that slope the 911 dispatchers voice echoing
faintly in the background. My hands shook, despite the
punishing desert heat and each step sent loose gravel skidding
beneath my boots. Part of me expected to find the
rider instantly sprawled out an emotionless Heap, but the
embankment was sharper than it looked from the road.
It felt like to sending into some hidden Canyon, where
anything could be waiting, the dispatcher was still on the
line. I stammered details about the
crash motorcycle, going way too fast.
Took the curve straight on, that kind of thing.
The dryness of the air clung to the back of my throat, making it
harder to speak. By the time I reached the bottom
I realized just how far the writer must have flown after
careening off that asphalt any sane calculation told me I'd
find a tragedy. When I stepped around a boulder,
I braced for the worst instead. I spotted movement, somebody
actually on their feet for a second.
I froze was I imagining this? The shape of a young man, maybe
mid-twenties, stumbling forward, like he was trying to walk off a
bad fall, dust clung to his clothes bits of Sagebrush caught
on him, his helmet dangled from one hand cracked near the visor
and he looks so rattled he might topple over any second.
Hold on Buddy. Stay still.
I called my voice shaking the dispatchers question's blurred
and I fumbled my phone into my pocket, trusting them to pick up
with what they could through the rustle of my kit.
I jogged over heart hammering half convinced.
He'd collapse under his own weight up, close the kid was
covered in scrapes. He had a cut on his forehead,
that left a thin trail of blood across his face.
His collarbone was obviously messed up jutting slightly,
where it shouldn't. Somehow he was still moving
though. Every step must have felt like
fire. I told him not to push it.
Let me check him over. My gloved hands ran through a
quick trauma assessment. No immediate gushing, blood,
breathing rapid but functional He mumbled something about
losing control, his eyes darting around like he was afraid the
ground might open up beneath him again.
I glanced back at the mangled remains of the bike.
It was destroyed the front wheel bent at a 90 degree angle.
Torn metal scattered like shrapnel.
The fact he'd survived being thrown that far, was flat-out
miraculous. I remember thinking that if he
could survive something like this, maybe I needed to trust
the desert a little more or respected a lot more.
Either way, I tried to keep him conscious while the dispatcher
repeated instructions about waiting for an ambulance.
Within minutes, I heard sirens Keening over the home of the
Wind. I helped guide the rider to a
safer patch of ground. Careful not to jostle his
shoulder. Dust clouded the air as the
paramedics arrived. Kicking up grit that stung my
eyes, they hurried over expression shifting from urgent
Focus to outright astonishment when they saw him, not only
alive but standing They slid a brace around his neck strapped,
him to a stretcher and carried him up toward the waiting
ambulance. I shadowed them adrenaline still
pumping replaying. The moment he'd sort off the
Curve. I told the EMTs everything his
speed how he didn't even try to turn.
They nodded probably used to people overestimating what they
can handle on these desert roads.
One of them looked at me and said, He's lucky, you were right
behind him but luck didn't begin to describe what I felt relief,
definitely. But also a lingering dread, like
I'd wandered into a story with an ending.
I could never have predicted when the ambulance finally
pulled away. Sirens fading, the hush of the
Mojave slipped back over me. I stood there, scanning the
scattered debris, trying to come to grips with what had just
happened. my sedan waited up on the road looking, oddly
insignificant against the dunes and scrub The entire scene felt
like a glimpse into how fast life can flip on you.
One minute your cruising in the desert, watching another driver.
The next your staring at a near corpse who somehow held on to
life. I trudged back up the slope
feeling drained each, footstep, sending tiny rocks, clattering
behind me. By the time, I reached my car my
phone was buzzing. Again, my wife calling frantic
about why I had vanished mid-sentence.
I answered my voice raw. There was nothing Supernatural
about what I had seen yet. It rattled me more than any
ghost story ever could. All I could think about was how
close that Rider had come to tragedy.
How quickly something ordinary had turned into a nightmare.
And how even with him safe in an ambulance, the desert seemed to
watch me. Like it still had another trick
up its sleeve. I climbed behind the wheel took
a few seconds to steady my breathing and turned the key.
The engines Rumble felt too normal after everything.
Pulling back onto the highway. I told my wife.
I'd explain everything once I got a better grip on it.
Myself. The road looked strangely
different now, less predictable more ominous.
Every curve felt like it might hide another disaster waiting to
happen. I tightened my hands around the
steering wheel. Determined to stay alert.
Nothing around me had changed but I certainly had And somehow
I suspected. I had never view that lonely
Desert stretch the same way again.
I've driven this route through Tennessee more times than I can
count, but somehow everything about it felt hostile that
evening. My husband was dozing in the
passenger seat and that left me alone with the darkness outside.
The rhythmic slap of wiper blades and the never-ending
twists in the road. Rain missed the windshield and
the fog gathered in dense patches that forced me to lean
forward. Like it would help me see
through the Merc. Something about the night made
my nerves feel exposed. It wasn't just the weather.
Though, that was bad enough with winding lanes and Slick
pavement. It was a kind of heavy quiet in
the air. No, other cars, seemed willing
to Brave that stretch of road. Every time I glanced at the rear
view mirror, I was half hoping to spot headlights just so I
know. We aren't the only ones out
there. But it was all emptiness behind
me. Every few miles, the fog would
open up and the headlights would reveal a glimpse of towering
trees leaning in on either side? Forming a tunnel of branches and
dripping leaves the occasional sign wet and reflective.
Reminded me, we were still on a state highway.
Otherwise I could have sworn we drifted off into some deserted
back road with no clear. End the rhythmic static on the
radio did little to settle my nerves.
Each pop or hiss felt like a whisper suggesting something was
lurking, just beyond my field of vision.
I tried not to wake. My husband, he'd been exhausted
and there was no sense in both of us suffering through that
drive, Still part of me wanted to give him a gentle nudge say.
Hey. Something about this place is
wrong. Just so I wouldn't feel so
alone, but I kept quiet. Instead I stayed glued to the
road breathing in Shallow bursts.
Every time I rounded another tight curve around, one
particularly narrow bend, the trees were almost uncomfortably
close my headlights, only illuminated, a few feet ahead,
leaving everything else, wallowed by Gloom.
Then off to the left, I saw movement in my peripheral
vision. Maybe 20 feet away, something
massive peeled away from the tree line.
At first my brain refused to register what I was seeing.
It was as if an entire trunk had stepped free from the rest of
the forest. A jolt of unease shot through me
and I gripped the steering wheel until my Knuckles ached my mind,
scrambled for a logical explanation.
Maybe the fog was playing tricks with shadows, maybe a snagged
branch moved in the Wind. But it was huge.
Taller than any living thing has a right to be and it seemed to
vanish back into the darkness in one smooth motion.
One moment there was this towering shape.
The next nothing I wanted to slam on the breaks and get a
better look. But I was afraid the car might
skid on the wet asphalt. Besides, I couldn't resist
stopping in such an isolated spot with no shoulder to pull
onto and no visibility behind me.
For a few seconds. I seriously questioned my own
eyes. A detached part of me was
yelling. It was just the fog.
While another part insisted, I just witnessed something.
That didn't belong in any nature guide, my breath came quicker as
I pressed the accelerator motivated by a primal Instinct
that shouted get away. Each second dragged until the
next clearing appeared. Where I spotted a lonely
flickering Motel sign in the distance.
Seemed like a tiny Beacon of safety.
A reminder, that civilizations still existed.
I exhaled a bit thinking, maybe I just let my mind wander.
The Gloom could have Twisted a perfectly ordinary tree trunk
into something. Monstrous, Right.
Then the Pang of Doubt came roaring back.
I had seen it move, it didn't sway like branches in the wind.
Its linked back the way a tall person might step behind a wall
only. This was the height of a
three-story building, maybe taller.
No way, that was normal. I thought about stopping at that
motel, but it looked deserted. Just a handful of rooms with the
lights off. It didn't feel any safer than
the open road, so I kept going My husband stirred in his seat.
Mumbled something about the rain and drifted back to half sleeve.
I envied him for a second. I'd give anything not to be so
keyed up right now. We pressed on the road curving
again under a canopy of Dripping leaves my eyes kept darting to
the side, expecting another glimpse of that shape.
Each time, the wind rustled, the branches, my pulse picked up,
but the trees refused to reveal any more secrets.
I was tempted to Rifle through the radio channels again, just
for some human voices, but I realized my hands were shaking
and I didn't want to lose focus on the wheel.
Eventually We Came Upon a slightly wider stretch, and
there was a rundown diner with all its lights off.
It was just as desolate as the motel, but the parking lot.
Offered a place to pull over. I did briefly to call my nerves.
My husband blinked away asked if everything was, all right.
I wanted to tell him everything, but the words refused to come.
I just stared at the dripping, overhang above the diners door.
Half expecting that giant figure to emerge from behind the
building. We didn't stay long soon.
I was back on the road. Forcing myself to concentrate on
the dark pavement ahead. I glanced at the clock and
realized how little distance we'd covered in.
What felt like an eternity Every minute felt stretched and
distorted. As if time was slowed down by
the anxiety gnawing at me as the highway wound deeper into
darkness. I kept looking into the mirror
certain, I'd catch a glimpse of that towering shape following us
only to see fog and empty Road in the passenger seat.
My husband stirred again concerned by my quiet tension,
but I just told him I was fine. No point in scaring him until I
had my own mind sorted out soon enough the road straightened and
the forest retreated into the background.
The uneasy weight on my chest ease though, it never vanished
completely. I spent the remaining miles
mentally replaying what I saw back there my thoughts racing
Had I really seen a tree move a Cryptid?
Was it just a trick of Shadows? but each time I recalled how it
vanished, I shuddered The memory refused to feel like a simple
illusion. We finally passed a sign
announcing, we were close to the state line.
I breathed a cautious sigh of relief.
Maybe, once we made it into Kentucky, the night would lose
its Menace and I could chalk the whole thing up to a creepy,
roadside hallucination. but something in my gut insisted the
memory would linger long after the fog lifted and as we drove
on, I stole one last glance behind us half convinced that
shape was still out there concealed in the dark watching
me leave I pulled into the truck.
Stop around midnight. Drawn to its flickering neon
sign like a Castaway spotting land, fat droplets of rain
tapped against the roof. As I parked beneath the weak
Street Lamp, even in that dim light.
The place looked worn down, Faded paint old vending
machines, humming in the corner and a few greasy puddles on the
asphalt. I sat in the driver's seat for a
moment, just letting the engine idle, my husband now fully awake
looked over at me with worry. No doubt sensing the tension,
radiating off me. I still hadn't told him about
what I witnessed earlier and part of me, didn't know how It
sounded insane even in my own head, despite my reluctance, we
climbed out, we needed a break from that Winding Road.
The air smelled like Diesel and damp concrete, the light above
the pumps flickered and buzzed every few seconds, making Shadow
shrink and grow across the parking lot.
That study pulse, kept me on edge, I couldn't stop imagining
that giant shape from earlier, lurking, just beyond the glow.
Inside the cramped convenience store, I grabbed a coffee.
While my husband wandered off to stretch his legs.
I opened a search on my phone half embarrassed to type,
keywords, like massive tree creature, Tennessee Cryptid,
then that might explain what I had seen.
Nothing relevant popped up. Just a scattering of myths and
rumors about odd shapes in the woods.
Local ghost stories or sightings that never went anywhere.
The lack of answers made me feel more alone than ever.
We step back out into the damp night and my husband started
filling the tank the single attendant on duty.
An older man approached with a polite nod.
When I blurted something about the road being eerily empty, he
just Shrugged his eyes. Flick toward the dark Highway,
like he knew more than he was letting on.
We get Travelers coming through, he muttered.
Some swear, they see things this time of year, then he clammed up
almost like he regretted saying anything at all.
I wanted to press him for details, but I couldn't shake
the sense that he just shut down.
My husband looked at me with concern, probably wondering why
I was so rattled. I offered a tight smile.
Hoping he'd chalk it up to exhaustion.
Truth was my mind was spinning with thoughts of that impossible
sight. The longer we stood there.
The more I felt the darkness pressing in on all sides.
As if something huge and watchful hovered right, outside
the circle of light. We got back into the car and
pulled away from the truck. Stop.
Leaving that wavering neon sign in the rear view, the fog
welcomed us again thicker than before swallowing the road.
So thoroughly, I had to keep the speed way down.
The headlights carved out a weak tunnel of visibility and every
shape beyond that felt ominous like it might flicker to life at
any second. Not 20 minutes later, the
highway curved sharply through another stretch of dense forest,
my husband finally spoke up asking, why I seemed so
paranoid, I was about to give him a half-truth.
Blame it on the weather when a tall warped, silhouette emerged
by the edge of the tree line, it vanished almost immediately but
I caught a glimpse of something that didn't fit any known
animal. Long.
Sinewy limb like shapes rustling the branches as if brushing the
aside. My husband glanced out his
window alerted by my sudden, intake of breath, but whatever
it was had melted into the Shadows.
I was left gripping the wheel pulse hammering in my ears,
replaying the moment. It had moved again, just like,
before a silent calculated shift deeper into the woods.
I pressed my foot down on the accelerator, not caring about
the Slick Road anymore. All I wanted was distance.
He started to ask what I saw. I stumbled through words like
something really big might have been a tree but they sounded
ludicrous. Even to me, he didn't seem
convinced though. He caught on to my panic and
urged me to slow down, Worried I'd lose control of the car.
Instead, I kept pushing forward. Wanting to leave that region
behind as fast as possible. A couple more miles bled into
the night. And finally, the welcome to
Kentucky sign shown faintly through the haze relief trickled
in though, it never fully chased away.
The dread lodged in my guts became more common Small
roadside houses, the occasional gas station?
Traces of normal life creeping back in.
Still, I couldn't forget the way that shape had loomed at the
tree line, my eyes flicked to the side mirror now, and then,
almost expecting to see an impossibly tall figure, keeping
Pace in the distance. We arrived at my family's place
right on the edge of dawn, porch, lamps illuminated, a
gravel driveway, and a sense of familiarity tried to comfort me,
but as I stepped out onto the Soggy, ground every rustle of
leaves behind the house made me Twitch.
My relatives came out to greet us calling out, how they'd
worried we'd get stuck in the storm.
I forced a smile pretending. The only issue was the weather.
Deep down. I was still replaying that
moment of second sighting on the road.
Feeling that it had looked right back at me, fully aware inside.
I slumped into a chair, trying to shake off the unease.
My husband hovered close. Since I wasn't just tired.
The warmth of the room. The smell of coffee and the
soft, chatter of my family were comforting.
Yet a knot of tension clung to me.
Each time a branch tapped against the window.
I thought about what might be out there.
Looming in the dark waiting. The rest of the day passed in a
blur of half-hearted conversation and Restless
pacing. Nobody else knew about the
haunting images. Stuck in my mind that night when
everyone turned in, I sat by the window.
Peaking out at the rows of trees behind my family's home.
A small hope flickered that Morning Light, might erase the
fear. But something told me that what
I had encountered, wasn't the kind of thing.
You just leave behind it stayed with you.
Like a secret, only you and it understood.
I've spent most of my life in this town where the population
sign reads. Just over 200 though, I am
convinced, we might be down to fewer somedays.
You'd think it'd be peaceful. No traffic jams, no?
Neon lights and nothing but desert and mountains stretching
out in all directions. Ensure it has its moments.
At Sunrise, you can feel like you're the only person left on
Earth in a strangely comforting way. but once you realize how
alone you truly are that Comfort can twist into something else
entirely My siblings and I kept ourselves entertained by
exploring. These massive gravel pits on the
outskirts of our property. We called it our secret base
though there was nothing secret about it.
It was just a big Dusty area filled with holes a few rocks
and arrested outside or two warning people to keep out.
Naturally that made it even more exciting for us.
We'd Place survival games, pretend we were lost in some
epic wilderness. It was the kind of place that
felt exhilarating in broad daylight yet.
At the same time it was always unnerving.
Quiet back there. One afternoon, all three of us
decided to see how far we could go into the pit before freaking
ourselves out. we trudged deeper than usual, ignoring the nagging
sense that we were treading on ground, nobody else bothered
with The silence grew more intense like the surrounding
desert wanted us to know, it was paying attention.
Then we saw it a teepee. Someone had taken thick logs,
freshly cut, judging by the pale wood and arrange them into a
surprisingly well-built structure.
But there are no real trees to speak of in that area.
Just Dusty shrubs in the occasional scrawny bush.
The three of us stood there gaping at this weird teepee,
that had no business existing out in the gravel pits.
For a second, I toyed with the idea of going closer but I
couldn't bring myself to move. I saw that same hesitation in my
sibling's eyes. So, we backed away acting tough
and Casual on the outside but feeling pretty rattled under the
surface. A few days later curiosity, got
the better of us. So we returned We inched around
a bend in the pit and that's when we noticed a dark shape
spread out on the ground in front of the teepees entrance.
It turned out to be a crow or a raven, split straight down the
middle. The wings had been stretched out
and there was Zero blood anywhere.
It was as if someone had dissected the creature in the
cleanest most precise way possible.
One of my siblings LED out a muffled gas.
And I remember wanting to say something comforting, but my
throat refused to cooperate. Without another word, we
scurried home. Each of us pretending, we
weren't absolutely disturbed by what we'd seen.
We tried to show our mom a little while.
Later some part of me, hoping we'd simply overreacted but the
teepee was gone. Not a single Branch remained, as
if it had never been there. My mom, shot us a skeptical
look, which just made it all more unsettling.
We were left with the memory of that Crow and the Eerie feeling
that whoever built the teepee, didn't want us bringing any
Outsiders around. After that, I started noticing
Oddities wherever I went up of footprints leading, nowhere a
hush falling over the yard at Twilight or the way.
The desert seemed to stare back whenever I glanced at the
horizon. I like to act like it was no big
deal. But deep down part of me dreaded
that I'd stumble onto another scene like the one of the gravel
pit and next time there might not be an exit routes so
conveniently open. I've always loved the night.
Sky out here. It's colossal and clear like a
dome of scattered diamonds, and if I am not too distracted by
everything that comes with living in the middle of nowhere.
I might even find it peaceful. Sometimes I'd hop into the bed
of our pickup, lie, back with a jacket tucked, under my head and
watched shooting stars streak overhead, the distant mooing of
cattle and shouts of farmhands became a nightly soundtrack.
Until one night, something changed that evening.
The cows started getting rowdy at the usual hour but over the
course of a few minutes, there was a shift in tone.
One particular cow began. Making sounds that were too
human, the noise drowned on filling the darkness in a way
that felt close. Even though the feedlot is a
decent stretch away, The cries grew louder or at least more
focused until they were impossible to block out.
My brain kept insisting their had to be a logical explanation,
a herd animal or a weirdo but my instincts refused to settle
down. I have in my stargazing and
darted into the house, my mind swirling with thoughts, I could
barely process Weeks later, I joined my family on our annual
summer camping, trip up in the mountains.
We found an area surrounded by rugged trails in dense Woods a
perfect place to turn off the rest of the world.
Toad. My loyal dog came along for the
ride. After we'd finished setting up
tents and everyone had started Gathering brush for a campfire.
I decided to scout ahead for bigger logs toad.
Trotted at my side, sniffing the ground.
I wandered around a bend and soon I couldn't hear my family's
chatter the noise from our campsite vanished behind me.
And that's when a strange tugging sensation Drew my
attention deeper into the forest.
It wasn't a physical Force, but it was persuasive.
Like a whisper in my ear. Encouraging me to step off the
trail. The notion felt ridiculous yet.
It was nearly overwhelming. if toad hadn't pulled back on his
leash right then, I might have followed that urge blindly With
one sharp Yankees. Snapped me back to awareness.
I spun around and hurried back to my parents and siblings
acting like I just been off daydreaming.
No way. Was I about to tell them what
nearly happened? The same tension clung to me for
the rest of the trip. I tried to sleep in the tent but
each time, branches, cracked or the wind rustled overhead, my
attention shot to towed. He'd be bristling ears, perked.
Like, he expected something to burst out from behind the
nearest tree neither of us. Found much rest that week.
Things. Escalated further one winter
night when our husky decided to Sprint off into the darkness.
It was bitterly cold and the fog rolled in so thick.
You couldn't see more than a few feet in front of you.
My mom, my sister and I trudged through drifts following the
Huskies tracks and calling his name.
Eventually, we realized we'd need the truck to keep
searching. So I volunteered to head back
with toad while they continued on foot, the walk home felt
endless clumps of snow, muffled, my steps and the swirling Mist
made me lose track of the road. That's one of voice Rose from
somewhere in the fields, soft at first, but carrying an odd
droning quality, that locked onto my attention.
It wasn't England. Didn't sound like Spanish or any
language? I recognized either.
It reminded me of a chance yet. No ceremony or prayer I've ever
heard. Normally, and anyone out there
would need to yell to be heard from such a distance but this
murmur came through Christmas and clear my pulse hammered as I
realized it wasn't just noise, it was beckoning I stood there
towed at my side trying to decide what to do.
Despite the biting cold part of me, felt compelled to approach,
like the sound had a hook in my gut toad saved me again, tugging
me forward with a determined yank.
I stumbled after him letting him guide me until the dim shape of
our house. Came into view.
After I climbed into the truck and locked the doors.
I just sat there staring at the white and windows.
Unsure, if I was trembling from the chill or something else.
Eventually, I remembered mom and my sister were still out there.
So I forced myself to drive in the Huskies likely direction.
We never did manage to catch him that night.
He was back by morning wagging his tail.
Like he just gone on a Grand Adventure.
Meanwhile, I was left wondering who, or what had been trying to
coax me out into the fields. Maybe I was overthinking it but
I couldn't scrub that chanting from my head. it rattled around
in my thoughts, especially late at night, when the wind would
pick up in the desert, seemed to draw a little closer to our
doorstep Now, whenever I stare out the windows at night, I take
note of whether the usual Farm sounds are present.
Because the moment that quiet sets in heavy and complete, I
know something might be watching waiting for a chance to make
itself known again. And the worst part is I'm almost
certain It Won't Stop. Toad seems convinced of that too
and that's enough for me to keep every door locked and every
light on when the Sun goes down. I went to sleep way later than I
had planned close to midnight and all I wanted was a few hours
of decent rest. The place I call home, isn't
what you'd call welcoming after dark.
It's perched on a rugged incline.
Surrounded by these looming trees that block out.
Most light once the sun goes down, usually I find it peaceful
but that night something fell off around 3 in the morning.
My eyes flew open. At first I couldn't pin down.
What had jolted? Me awake?
No loud crash. No rattling window just this
sense that I wasn't alone. My throat felt dry.
So I slipped out of bed trying, not to make a sound.
The hall way was almost pitch black except for a thin shaft of
moonlight. Slicing across the floor, I
could have sworn the whole house was holding Secrets.
I didn't want to uncover. By the time I made it to the
kitchen. My nerves were jangling, the
faucets squeaked and the water. I gulped down, tasted stale,
like it had been sitting in the pipes too long.
Normally I check my phone or listen to some late night, show
to calm down but something told me to stay quiet and keep my
senses Sharp. When I got back to my room, I
eased myself onto the edge of the bed and happened to glance
out the window. It took a second for my eyes to
adjust, but the moon was bright enough to show the outlines of
branches stretching at my level, like a haunted walkway suspended
in mid-air, At first the trees looked empty, just swaying
leaves and twisting shapes but there was a darker form out
there that I couldn't explain. It was perched on a thick branch
kind of hunched yet still taking up a lot of space.
That shape was wrong Too. Tall too angular and definitely
watching me. I caught a faint glimmer of red
where its eyes should have been a color that didn't belong in
that landscape of silvery moonlight, my pulse pounded, in
my ears and I couldn't make sense of what I was looking at
Animal Human, something else entirely.
It had this lanky outline like its limbs stretched out more
than they should, and it didn't look the least bit on
comfortable balancing in those branches.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and leaned in trying to
convince myself. This was just my imagination.
But there was no trick of the light here.
It was real enough to tighten every muscle in my body.
And it was studying me as though it was used to being the one
hidden in the dark rarely caught off guard.
After an agonizing stretch of time, that might have only been
10 or 15 seconds, the figure shifted caulking, its head in a
way that screamed curiosity or Worse recognition.
I thought about reaching for my phone calling someone anyone.
But I couldn't bring myself to move.
Sick kind of Fascination rooted. Me to the spot.
Just as I started to regain some composure, the creature vanished
from the branch with a sudden fluid motion.
I left off the bed and rushed to the window half expecting to see
it sprawled out below instead. I Glimpse it weaving through the
undergrowth at an unbelievable speed.
The brush shook like something massive was forcing a path
downhill heading deeper into the forest Shadows.
Even after it disappeared I stayed frozen at the window.
Mentally replaying. What I had seen I couldn't have
made it up, it was too Vivid too unsettling.
The rest of the night was just me sitting there lights on
barely blinking. I knew sleep wasn't happening.
My mind wouldn't stop racing through a thousand questions.
Was it coming back? Had it been lurking there
before? Would it have just watched me if
I hadn't noticed it first? When a faint hint of dawn
finally, crept over the Treetops, I still felt pinned in
place by that silent in counter. That moonlit glimpse of
something, Beyond normal logic stuck with me.
And the most unnerving part it seemed to know.
I was there the whole time as if this was its territory.
And I'd stumbled into something, I wasn't meant to see.
I barely slept a wink after what happened.
So I was awake Before Dawn even had a chance to stretch across
the sky. The minute, the sunlight,
finally crept in. I forced myself to peel away
from the window, my eyes felled gritty, my head hurt.
And my nerves were completely shot, but I needed some kind of
proof that last night wasn't a hallucination.
When I first looked out at the trees, bathed in Morning Light,
it almost felt like the forest itself was, mocking me
flaunting. Its Newfound serenity.
Gone. Where the Eerie moonlit shadows
and that terrifying silhouette. Now, everything looked ordinary
like any other stretch of woods on a clear day.
But I knew better than to let daylight full me.
After gulping, down a cup of coffee, I decided to walk around
the perimeter of my property. Honestly, I could have used some
extra caffeine or maybe something stronger, but I had to
do this while my courage was still high.
The sun was surprisingly. Bright, making me squint, as I
stepped outside. It's like the world was saying,
See, nothing to be scared of. I wasn't buying it, my boots
crunched over patchy grass. As I made my way toward the tree
line scanning every inch of the ground, part of me felt
ridiculous. Like I was on a scavenger hunt
for Footprints or claw marks, but I needed to see something
that would confirm what I had witnessed.
I kept noticing snap Twigs, flattened areas in the brush and
places where the pine needles seemed Disturbed.
Could have been deer. Could have been anything really
yet? Each irregularity made my
stomach clenched Conjuring images of last night's creature
trampling its way through. when I finally got back inside, I
realized my hands were shaking Not from the chill in the air,
but from the memory of those glowing red eyes.
I grabbed the nearest notebook and scrolled down every detail,
how tall it seemed that hunched posture, the incredible speed at
which it bolted into the undergrowth.
My writing was uneven and ink bled in places where I pressed
the pain too hard. Reliving the memory turned my
nerves raw all over again. I spent the next hour or two
crouched in front of my laptop diving deep into the darkest
corners of Cryptid forums I read about everything from wendigo's
to skinwalkers to unclassified Forest Folk, None of these
descriptions matched. Exactly what I had seen though.
I clicked through post after post scanning for any mention of
a elongated Limbs and glowing eyes perched at tree level, My
head started spinning with folklore.
I'd never heard of each more bizarre than the last.
There was so much nonsense out there but also just enough
plausible detail to keep my paranoia on a steady burn.
By early afternoon, I was so anxious that every small noise
made me jump. The hum of the refrigerator was
suddenly too loud, The Tick of the clock, too sharp.
I'd whip my head toward the window at the slightest hint of
motion half convinced. I'd see that tall shape lurking
in the high branches, but nothing was there.
Just swaying leaves and sunlight dancing through the gaps.
It felt like the forest was holding its breath, waiting for
me to let my guard down. The worst part was this
persistent thought worming its way through my brain.
Did that thing really see me? Or was I intruding on its
domain. The question nagged at me, so
much that by late afternoon. I caught myself pacing the
living room, trying to distract myself with half-hearted chores.
No luck. Every time I close my eyes I saw
those red eyes staring back. Before I knew it, the sun was
dipping below the horizon. Night fell quickly in these
woods and as the daylight drained, my sense of safety went
with it. The house felt less like home
and more like a flimsy shelter against something that should
never have been this close in the first place.
I left every light on even the porch light, just to keep the
Darkness at Bay. but 100 bright bulbs, wouldn't have driven away
that uneasy feeling The house started groaning and creaking as
it usually does at night. But now, each little sound
threatened to send my heart galloping.
I settled in by the window with a flashlight in hand, watching
the branches. Turn into spindly Silhouettes
under the moonlight My eyes burned from lack of sleep yet I
didn't dare look away for more than a few seconds.
Part of me wanted to spot it again, just to be absolutely
sure I wasn't losing my mind. Another Part Of Me, dreaded the
idea, it might already be watching hidden in the leaves
waiting for the right moment to show itself.
The possibility of a repeating counter had me on edge and I
knew a second sighting would confirm that last night was no
weird fluid. The clock edged closer to
midnight and still no sign of anything.
But the tension in my chest, never let up deep down.
I felt like I was teetering on the edge of an even darker.
Secret one, that might be lurking.
Just beyond my vision. By the time, the chapter of
night ended, I was left with one on shakeable truth.
I wasn't alone here. This place the one-eyed called
home for so long, no longer felt like it belonged entirely to me.
something else was out there and it seemed more aware of me than
I ever wanted to be I knew the evening hunt was going to be
tricky. The second I saw how fast the
daylight faded. I'd spent the entire day perched
up in my stand thinking. This was just like any other
trip Into the Woods. The Autumn chill had settled in
and the leaves underfoot had gone from a vibrant gold to
something darker almost foreboding.
Still, I had been out here enough times to know how things
usually played out. When I finally took the shot, my
mind was on autopilot. I squeezed the trigger heard the
crack and watched the deer drop. There was the media Rush, a
split second jolt of relief because I had been waiting all
day for that moment. Once I climbed down, though, the
reality started gnawing at me, it was Dusk and I had a hefty 5
pointer on my hands. Five miles back to the truck.
Felt a lot farther in the creeping dark than it had in the
early morning. Light.
I'd left my gear car to about two miles away from the actual
shots site. So hauling the deer that short
distance initially, didn't phase me.
My breath came out, invisible Puffs and the woods seemed
quieter than usual too quiet. Like something was off balance.
But I chalked it up to the usual post-harvest hush.
Animals sense, commotion and Scatter, right?
When I reached the cart everything, switched from mildly
inconvenient to downright horrible in an instant.
I tried strapping, the deer in but the second I started
Wheeling forward. The cart jolted and leaned the
left wheel cracked. So sharply it sounded like a
gunshot echoing in the trees. Next thing, I knew the wheel
hung by a sliver of metal before, snapping completely
free. I stared at that busted wheel
half laughing at my own stupidity, for not checking the
cart beforehand. That tiny laughed died quick
when it sank in that I had no backup plan.
No partner, no phone signal, just me and a deer that wasn't
about to walk out on its own. My only real option.
Sling. The carcass over my shoulders
and start moving. I hadn't gone more than a few
hundred yards when I heard them coyotes howling in the distance,
it was fainted at first I tried to tell myself they'd stay near
the gut pile. I'd left behind Maybe that was
enough to keep them occupied. But every time I stopped to
catch my breath, it sounded like more joined in. the noise echoed
in the hollow spaces between the trees getting louder and
suddenly I was worried I'd become a midnight, snack, if I
didn't keep moving, You'd think I'd have nerves of Steel after
all the seasons. I've spent out here, but
something about that chorus of cries set my teeth on edge.
I shoved my feet forward, ignoring the burn in my thighs
and the ache in my shoulders from the deer's weight.
My only goal was to push past the dry semi-open area and get
to Higher Ground. I knew a swamp weighted ahead,
an absolute nightmare in daylight let alone in near dark.
The tracks of mud and Moss, underfoot made each step a
Gamble. More than once I slipped on the
Slicker Earth. Imagining rows of yellow eyes
behind every crooked tree. Trunk. the howls were growing
Bolder and the sense of being surrounded started gnawing at
me, When I finally paused to adjust my grip, the deer
threatened to slide off my shoulders.
My breath was ragged and I could feel the hush of the forest
pressing down. I tried listening for the
coyotes, but the silence made it worse, like, they were toying
with me waiting getting closer. As I forced myself, onward, all
I could think was how things went from a regular day of
hunting to a near nightmare in a heartbeat.
And I still had miles to go I had no idea how much more I had
left in the tank, but I knew I couldn't let my legs quit. the
swamp behind me, felt like it wanted to swallow me whole And
every time a branch snapped. I imagined a pack of snarling
teeth. Right?
At my ankles, my arms had gone numb beneath the weight of the
deer, and my lungs were on fire. But I kept telling myself just a
little farther, just one more step.
As I broke free of the thickest part of the bog.
My boots. Finally met Solid Ground.
Relief lasted, maybe half a second because the howls and
Yips were way too close. It sounded like it, at least a
dozen creatures weaving through the trees working together, like
a freakish team. I could sense them flanking me
from both sides creeping in every bit of brush and
undergrowth shifting with New Movement.
I forced myself into a half, run the deer bouncing on my back mud
and watered dripping down my legs.
My grip was slick on the hatchet, but it was the only
real weapon I had. The more I listened, the more I
realized there were no single set of footsteps.
It was a whole swarm a living net that threatened to close
around me. I remember the first glimpse of
the fence up ahead. A tall silhouette against the
moonlit sky. I focused everything on reaching
that fence, ignoring the ache in my muscles.
The closer I got the louder. The pack seemed to become as
though they knew my Escape Route and wanted to cut me off.
My breath rattled in my chest, but I hurled myself up and over
deer and all not even hesitating when my jacket caught on a
length of Twisted Metal. The landing on the other side,
knocked every ounce of air out of me.
My knees slammed onto gravel and I sprawled forward with the deer
rolling off me. My hands fumbled for the knife,
or the hatchet. Anything expecting to see
shape's leaping over the fence a heartbeat later.
Instead, I heard the Slam against it snarling and raking
their claws across the chain links.
For a few gut wrenching seconds. I figured they'd get through
somehow. I braced for fur and teeth.
Digging my boots into the ground as if I could launch myself away
at any second, then it went quiet.
The pack whined and paste but eventually they faded back into
the dark. My hands were shaking so badly.
I had trouble picking up the deer.
By the time, I reached my truck. I nearly collapsed again.
Half from relief half from the lingering Terror gnawing at my
nerves. I wanted to leave right then but
my body refused to cooperate. I locked the doors.
Slid into the driver's seat and let exhaustion take over.
Maybe I dozed for a few minutes. Maybe it was longer but when a
fist tapped against my window I gasped hard.
A flash light beam cut across the cab and outside stood at DNR
officer. With a look in his eyes that
said, he'd never come across anyone or anything like me
before. I cracked the window still
clutching my knife in one hand and managed to blurt out the
story. The Broken Heart, the chase the
fence. The officer kept glancing at the
blood on my clothes and the deer in the back like he was trying
to figure if I was some kind of lunatic.
Once he checked my tags, though, his whole posture ease and he
actually let out a shaky laugh. Called me wild, man.
Then told me to get some rest. That moment felt surreal like
the night had been a fever dream.
And this stranger's relief was, the only real thing, grounding
me, After he left, I just sat there breathing as evenly as I
could manage part of me wanted to drive off and never look
back. Another part of me was already
thinking about next season because apparently, I don't
learn I dozed off until the first pink streaks of mourning
crept in. Even though I got out of that
swamp in one piece, something about the forest, felt different
from, then on like it had shown me a side of itself.
I'd never forget. I woke up last night, gasping
for air. The Echoes of screeching.
Sounds bouncing around in my head.
It took a moment to remember where I was curled up in my own
bed, blankets twisted around me. My thoughts turned immediately
to my old ferret. The one that died just a few
weeks ago. my mind keeps circling back to how enormous it
got toward the end, like a small cat, maybe even bigger, and the
way it almost sang, this low croaking Melody instead of
squeaking In the final days of its life.
It acted like it knew something the rest of us didn't.
Sometimes I'd find it standing on its hind legs for so long.
It felt like we were locked in a staring contest.
Its gaze was eerily. Calm locked onto me in a way.
No pet should ever look at anyone.
My mom tried to get me to examine the body once it passed,
but I Shrugged her off. I thought she was just being odd
about the whole situation. Turns out maybe she had a
reason. Not long after the ferret died,
I decided to clear my head by going for a walk with a friend.
We joked around teased each other just messing around as
usual. We both needed a laugh after the
weirdness of the past few weeks. Then I noticed a deer lurking, a
few yards ahead still as a statue.
Almost as though it had been planted there, normally a deer
would Bolt the moment at spotted us but this one, just stared my
friend being braver than me. Tried calling it closer with
little cliques and snaps of his fingers.
Strangely enough, the deer obeyed like it recognized us
somehow. We took a goofy selfie with the
deer right behind our shoulders. It looked at the camera know, it
looks through the camera like it saw something inside the lens.
We Shrugged it off at first marveling at how tame it acted
but neither of us could erase the sense that something was
off. We even talked about it later,
how its eyes felt more intense than a regular animals?
But we let the conversation Drift Away.
Then maybe 15 minutes after we parted ways with that dear.
We spotted it again in the distance, only this time it was
upright on its hind legs, bobbing along in a stiff.
Lopsided Gallup of we burst out laughing Parts, shocked
disbelief because nobody would take us seriously if we tried to
explain a deer prancing around like some awkward, two-legged
circus act, But that site stuck with me, it shouldn't have
happened. It made me think about how my
ferret used to stand arms dangling by its side like it was
trying to mimic a person. The Coincidence was too strange.
Still, I filed it away under two weird for words and tried to
move on. Later that evening though I
couldn't stop replaying the image of that deer in my head
every time I shut my eyes. I saw it lurching on two legs.
All at once, I was back in my room, thinking about the ferret
recalling the day, it just expired without warning.
And then came that screeching again a memory or something
else. I'm not sure.
It rattled me so hard. I swore my vision blurred for a
split second. I even thought I heard claws
scratching against the floor, but when I glanced around
nothing was there. Now I'm lying here again, unable
to get comfortable. I keep feeling like I'm being
observed, even in the dark. It's not exactly fear, more like
a crawling tension at the base of my neck, telling me that,
maybe the deer, and my pets, shared a connection.
Part of me wants to go check on my mom asked her what she really
saw when she tried to show me the ferret's body.
The rest of me is too on edge to move.
I promised myself that tomorrow I tried to be logical.
Maybe do a bit of research on local Wildlife or bizarre animal
behavior. But as tonight drags on I can't
help suspecting that nothing about this is going to be
explained by a few Google searches.
Something's unfolding, and I'm not sure if it's started with my
ferret's last breath. Or if that was just my first
glimpse of something far darker, whatever the truth is, I'm
starting to think it's coming for me, step by step, sighting,
by citing Scratch, by scratch, I needed to get away at least.
That's what I told myself when I pulled up to the hotel.
The place was as unremarkable as you'd expect a gray building
perched off the main road with a big neon sign.
Announcing it had a pub inside, it looked normal enough from the
outside turns out appearances can be deceiving.
Everything felt more tense than it should.
As I hauled my bag toward the reception desk.
I noticed the hall way wasn't fully enclosed.
One side opened straight to the outdoors letting in a damp.
Chill. A few stray cats were slinking
around the corners, hissing at each other.
I remember thinking the architecture was weird.
Why have a hallway leading to the guest rooms be so exposed.
still, I checked in thinking I'd used the hotel's Pub to drown
out the freakish memories of that deer from before and the
ferret that kicked off my nightmares, I dropped my things
in the room freshened up and headed down to the pub.
Wanting nothing more than a few hours of distraction.
That night, the pub was Lively enough.
A small stage set up for amateur performers.
A handful of tired, Travelers Milling around the bar, half,
watching the guy on stage. Sing some off-key song, I sat by
myself ordered a drink. For a while.
I let the hum of conversation and clinking glasses, lull me
into forgetting. How messed up my life had been
feeling almost managed to convince myself.
I dreamed up that deer on two legs.
But when the pub finally closed and I stumbled out into that
open air hallway, I realized normalcy was short lived.
I heard this slow shuffling noise, around the bend like
someone dragging a heavy object. Hello.
I call my voice cracking a bit. Normally I wouldn't cry but an
uncomfortable feeling told me to check, I edged forward and
spotted a woman maybe in her 50s, overweight and breathing.
Raggedly Her hair was plastered to her forehead and her eyes
darted in every direction as if she expected something to jump
out at her. Ma'am, are you?
I started to ask, but she cut me off with a weird slurring speech
about needing a waiter. It was such a random thing to
say in an empty Hall way that I paused I thought maybe she was
having a medical emergency so I took a cautious Step Closer.
And then she turned her head a full 180 degree turn.
There was a wet snap, like the sound of a large branch
splintering in a storm. In that moment, all reason
dissolved into raw panic. Her face Twisted backward, while
the rest of her body stayed facing me.
The wide-eyed expression, she wore I can still see it in my
mind. Her lips were parted making a
faint. Rasp.
She let out this quiet moan and then started moving not walking
exactly. Her feet.
Dragged along the floor, leaving scuff marks.
It reminded me of someone being yanked by the ankles only, there
was no one there. I flattened myself against the
wall, trying not to breathe the lights overhead flickered.
Each burst of Brighton's, giving me a new glimpse of her
contorted form, she kept gliding forward, if that's even the
right word disappearing around the corner, Part of me wanted to
follow asked, if she needed help or if she was even human at all.
Instead I stayed put pressing my entire body, so tightly against
the wall that I might, as well have melted into it.
After a few agonizing minutes of holding my breath or barely
breathing. I realized the woman was gone.
That's when I forced myself to Sprint back to my room, I could
hear my shoes slapping against the linoleum floor.
A frantic Echo. Once I was inside, I flipped the
deadbolt lock the chain even wedged.
A chair under the knob like in a bad horror movie only, it felt
way too real. I collapsed onto the bed heart
hammering, a thousand explanations ran through my
mind. She was sick.
Maybe hallucinating But that doesn't explain how her head
spun all the way around or how she glided leaving those Trails
on the floor. Sleep was useless.
I might have dozed off once or twice but each time I was
startled awake by low. Farrell moans outside my door.
They sounded less human and more like some large animal in
distress. The scratch scratch scratch that
followed felt deliberate as those something, wanted to claw,
straight through the wood. I just sat on the mattress back
against the headboard staring at the door.
I didn't even trust myself to turn on the light.
Eventually the scraping faded replaced by an eerie quiet.
That was worse because I didn't know if it was really gone or
just waiting. I checked my phone saw.
It was well past midnight, that's when the thought hit me.
Maybe all these things, the giant ferret, the deer on two
legs. Now this twisted neck woman are
pieces of some Unholy puzzle and I might be caught right at the
center of it. By the time mourning light
seeped under the curtains, I felt like I had aged a decade.
My body ached from tension, my head pounded with unanswered
questions. One realization loomed above all
else. I couldn't handle another night
like this. What ever played me and maybe
others too. Wasn't just going to disappear
on its own as insane as it sounded.
I knew I had to be the one to track it down.
Confronted, stop it, whatever it might take.
I remember muttering to myself setting a date.
July 23rd. Somehow that seemed like a day
far enough away for me to prepare but soon enough that I
wouldn't lose my nerve. I had no idea if I'd be facing
one creature or many, but I knew I had to try The open air
hallway outside felt weighed down by something.
Even in broad daylight, it looked darker than the rest of
the property like a Perpetual Twilight had settled in.
Shoving my things into my bag. I took a last glance down that
Corridor a breeze drifted. Through carrying a hint of
Decay. Like a faint, rotting smell that
made my skin crawl. I'm still not sure if I imagined
it or if it was real. Either way, I hustled out of
their determined to gear up for whatever comes next.
Because I've learned the worst part of this.
Entire ordeal isn't the terror. It's the not knowing when it
will strike again. And I've had my fill of that.
I was alone at home that day. Slouched on my Warren, couch
flipping through channels. I didn't care about the sky
outside was gray heavy with the threat of rain.
So I figured the day would be as uneventful As It Gets.
But at some point I noticed a few deer drifting into the yard.
That site, usually brought a calm Vibe something I'd admire
for a moment before going back to whatever I was doing this
time though. Something about the fell off.
The air outside felt strangely still like, every sound had been
sucked away. The deer seemed normal at first,
but I kept my eyes on them, a little longer than usual.
And that's when I realized one of their back legs was Wrong.
Every time. It stepped that leg bent in a
direction. I can't even begin to explain.
I leaned closer to the window, my mind fighting to make sense
of what I was seeing. The more I watched the more I
realized it wasn't just the one leg.
Several of the deer 3, maybe 4 had some unnatural curve to
their joints. I tried telling myself, it had
to be a trick of the light. A weird angle.
Anything that would explain it. But the way their limbs moved,
just wasn't natural, if it felt like they were almost learning
how to walk for the first time except they were doing it wrong.
They kept standing there. Nibbling at the grass,
occasionally glancing in my direction, as though, they
sensed me watching from behind the glass.
I didn't want to move worried, I'd scared them off, or Worse,
attract their full attention. My breath caught in my throat.
Every time one of them jerked, its head up ears.
Twitching, the yard was silent. No chirping, birds or rustling
leaves and that silence made each awkward step echo in my
mind. my pulse hammered in my ears with every movement they
made, Eventually, one of the deer started to stroll toward
the tree line, at the edge of the yard.
The others followed. That was when I noticed
something even more unsettling. As they walked away, their
bodies looked like they were growing.
At first, I was sure. I was imagining it, but I
couldn't ignore how their torsos seemed to stretch.
How their necks elongated to proportions that were not
possible. I found myself Frozen in place,
trying to piece together, a scene that shouldn't exist.
Every rational part of me, screamed, that animals don't
just do that. The one with the most Twisted
leg was lagging behind the group, its back hunched, at an
odd angle. Ribs pushing against its high in
a way that made me want to look away.
But I couldn't. It was almost as though it
sensed how Disturbed I was because it paused for a moment,
turned its head toward me and let out a sound.
It wasn't a typical deer noise. It sounded warped like a groan
that buzzed through the air and left my stomach in knots.
My grip on the windowsill tightened until my Knuckles
ached. The rest of the deer.
Didn't seem phased by the Monstrous shift happening among
them. They continued to walk deeper
into the trees. Each limb bending at
uncomfortable angles, And I swear their Silhouettes
elongated too, like something out of a nightmare slender
forms, fusing with the dim light.
By the time, they were half hidden by the trunks.
I could barely recognize them as deer anymore.
They were like outlines of something else.
Something not meant to be seen in daylight.
I stood there in a haze staring long after they disappeared for
the rest of the day, I replayed the scene in my mind convinced,
I'd gotten it all wrong. Maybe it was a trick of the Sun.
Maybe I was just tired. Yet every time logic tried to
reassure me, I'd remember the way that leg bent or how their
necks stretched to an impossible length.
And my stomach turned all over again that night sleep was out
of the question. Every noise outside made me
jolt. Even the slightest rustling of
leaves had me picturing those distorted shapes.
Lurking, just beyond the yard. I kept glancing at the window
half expecting to see one of them press itzy elongated head
against the glass. My brain wouldn't let me forget,
the memory was too fresh, too Vivid.
I started wondering if I should warn someone call a game warden
or a neighbor. But what would I say?
The dear in my yard looked like something out of a horror movie.
Nobody would believe me. I wasn't sure.
I believed myself. But the terror was real, my
hands were trembling. Every time I walked past that
window. I couldn't bring myself to open
the door worried that if I stepped outside I might come
face to face with those Twisted creatures or whatever they were.
Hours. Dragged by I flicked on every
light in the house convinced that staying in the dark was a
bad idea. My mind, conjured images of
those deer creeping closer while I slept their limbs contorting
further, their eyes glinting with some unnatural awareness.
I kept imagining them trying to get in.
Pushing against the walls with those warped legs slowly
changing shape as they tried to squeeze through any possible
opening. By Sunrise.
I was mentally and physically exhausted.
I mustered the courage to peek outside but the yard was empty.
Morning, Light flooded in. And for a second, I questioned
whether I'd let my imagination run wild.
Still a lingering dread hung in the air and unshakeable sense.
That something was fundamentally wrong with what I had witnessed.
This wasn't just a case of a lame deer, or a small injury, it
was an impossible transformation, a glimpse into
something Beyond normal comprehension.
Even now, whenever I look outside, I have to brace myself.
Part of me is sure I'll see those shapes again.
Drifting among the trees limbs bending and stretching into
unspeakable forms. and a part of me wonders, if one day they'll
come back, Maybe This Time closer than before.
The thought of it leaves me Restless scanning, the yard with
wary eyes, waiting for the slightest hint of movement that
might confirm my worst fears. I always thought I knew every
inch of my grandparents land and as Azul Texas.
Like it was my own private playground.
That afternoon the late son hung in the sky turning the Horizon,
the color of a half-hearted fire.
I wanted a moment to myself. So, I wandered into the nearby
Woods, the same patch of trees, I'd explored dozens of times.
There was a rusty, wire fence and a makeshift path.
Covered in crumpled leaves. All of it is familiar as the
back of my hand. The house wasn't far away so I
assumed nothing could really go wrong.
I just needed a little time to breathe.
The air felt strangely dense, almost pressing against my skin
and every step I took sounded louder than it should have.
Usually the forest was calming A Chorus of crickets in the
occasional bird call. but the silence that day was unnerving,
I called out for my mom, just to break the quiet even though I
had no real reason to No response a hint of worry began
to grow like the atmosphere had changed without me.
Realizing it suddenly I heard my name but it came out sounding
off like my mother's voice but somehow Twisted it made me
hesitate. My gut reaction was to answer so
I called back asking if she needed help again, no reply, I
glanced around trying to figure out the source of that voice.
My heart pounded so fiercely that it was hard to think.
In my head, I was running over all the reasons why my mom might
be in the woods, but none of them made any sense and that
voice. It was familiar yet nothing
about it felt. Okay.
A moment later, I saw movement behind a thick tree trunk at
first, I assumed it was a deer, or maybe a stray dog.
But then something long and gray came into view.
A figure standing taller than any person.
I knew with skin that looked worn and almost torn in places.
Its teeth were sharp enough to catch the light in a way that
made my stomach alert. I stayed for Frozen, My Breath
hitching and my throat. Every nerve in my body screamed
at me to run yet. I couldn't move it shifted.
Almost like it was testing how I'd react and that was all the
signal I needed my legs. Finally listened, I spun around
and sprinted as fast as I could. Back toward the house, snapping
branches on foot and crashing through brush.
The woods felt darker like the sunlight was blocked out on
purpose. My lungs burned and my eyes
started watering, but I didn't dare slow down to look behind
me. When I reached the clearing the
porch, light was just flickering on casting a shaky glow, over
the yard. Stumbled onto the grass,
gasping. Mom and my stepdad were inside
Talking casually about dinner oblivious to the chaos.
I just escaped. My entire body was trembling.
I tried to steady myself as I went in.
Not wanting them to see how rattled I was.
Telling them felt impossible. Like, they chalk it up to a
spooky Daydream or a kid's imagination.
But I knew what I saw. I practically barricaded myself
in my room. Pressing my back against the
door and closing my eyes replaying every second.
That evening I didn't dare peek out the window.
Convinced something hideous might be staring right back at
me and all I could do was grapple with the thought that
the story is my family. Once whispered and low tones
might be more than just Stories. The property.
I'd always viewed as safe wasn't so comforting anymore and I
realized I'd never look at those woods the same way again.
That night felt impossibly long. Every time I closed my eyes, I
pictured that ragged figure crouching in a corner of my room
waiting. My bed used to feel like a safe
haven but now it felt too exposed.
Every Sound Outside rustling leaves, a loose piece of gutter.
Rattling transformed into a Potential Threat.
Sleep barely came. And when it did dreams
overwhelmed me, I'd see that things warped features and
twisted grin wherever I turned. I jolt awake, drenched in sweat
my mind, struggling to separate Nightmares From Reality by
morning. I was a wreck My mom asked if I
was feeling sick, but I just shook my head and mumbled
something about not sleeping. Well, She didn't press, but I
noticed her concerned. Glance linger, a little longer
than usual part of me wanted to tell her everything.
But words seemed too small for something, so large and
terrifying. I worried.
She'd brush it off or worse yet, believe me.
And still not know how to help the days that followed only
added to the unease. I couldn't set foot outside
without expecting to see that shape skulking behind a tree
waiting for me. Sometimes I'd walk the perimeter
of the house trying to convince myself.
I was just paranoid. I started hearing faint Echoes
of footsteps that never matched mine late at night.
The yard took on an unnatural Stillness like everything else.
Had backed away from our property.
Even my grandparents dog, an old mud, who usually barked at the
slightest movement stayed curiously, quiet, I turned to my
grandfather, hoping for some hint, that maybe he'd run across
a weird animal or suspicious trespasser before.
He was usually the first to dismiss ghost stories, but this
time he paused I saw a flicker in his expression like he was
recalling something he tried to bury.
He wouldn't explain it outright only muttered that some Legends
are best left alone. Then advised me not to wander
too far into the woods. It was a short conversation but
it left a long Shadow over my thoughts.
His reaction that single spark of unease in his eyes was enough
to confirm, I might have crossed paths with something, truly out
of the ordinary. The tension built day by day.
I tried to distract myself by doing chores around the yard or
watching TV with my stepdad but my mind refused to settle.
The house's walls felt claustrophobic yet stepping
outside, turned my stomach. Even in the daylight, I'd stare
at the tree line, Half expecting something on naturally tall and
thin to drift between the trunks.
It was an exhausting way to live, always looking over my
shoulder. Eventually I reached a Breaking
Point. One evening, I gather the
courage to tell my mom and stepdad some of it.
I left out the finer details of gnarly, skin and razor sharp
teeth. But I admitted I'd seen a figure
in the woods that scared me more than anything else in my life.
They exchanged a worried look, but they didn't laugh at all.
My mom tried to reassure me that we check it out together.
My stepdad, even offered to walk around with a flashlight, once
it got dark. The thought of that made my
stomach flip, but at least they knew now I wasn't alone in it
anymore. Still, the knights felt haunted.
Sometimes just on the edge of hearing.
I swear, I caught my own name stretched and distorted into
something Unholy. It never lasted long and I don't
only catch it in that moment between waking and sleep, which
left me wondering if it was all in my head.
But it never felt imaginary. If anything, it felt like
something real messing with me. Testing how far it could push
before I snap. Even when the weeks rolled on
and I convinced myself that maybe it was just a terrible
misunderstanding or maybe the figure was gone.
I had since that charged presence lingering somewhere
close. It followed me inside into my
dreams, my everyday routine. The ordinary space I called home
had changed forever. I was always waiting for the
next sign, a half glimpsed movement at the window, a
bizarre sound scratching at the door that strange mimic of my
mom's voice? Echoing through the empty yard
and a small part of me feared that each time I sensed it, the
encounter would escalate as if the thing was only growing
bolder, That was how life looked from then, on each day, filled
with a dread. I couldn't fully explain every
night haunted by flickers of a nightmare, that might still be
out there. Lurking, just passed the place
where porch, light turns to Darkness.
The memory of that towering figure shaped my every decision.
The future suddenly stretched out in front of me with the
ominous promise that I had never truly leave that moment behind.
How could I, when it felt like the encounter had left a mark,
deep enough to call me back. No matter how hard I tried to
run I usually finish my shift after everyone else is already
asleep. So walking my dog, Ren under,
the dim Suburban glow had become routine.
That night the street Shone with leftovers.
From a recent rain, creating silvery puddles that splintered
the yard lights into shards of glare. it was that familiar,
Texas, suburb family homes in neat rows, the sort of place
where nothing dramatic was supposed to happen, but the
reflections bouncing off, the wet pavement, gave everything an
odd Haze, I kept squinting trying to figure out if my eyes
were just tired, or if the gleaming lights truly made it
harder to see anything beyond their reach.
The neighborhood was hushed no other dog.
Walkers were around no cars rolling by just ran in me.
Wren was this sweet laid-back companion barely raising an
eyebrow at squirrels let alone strangers.
Normally, that was comforting until my mind started to drift
into darker Corners, wondering, how safe we really were.
We kept moving along that narrow road with no sidewalks hugging
the edge whenever I heard the distant possibility of a car
tonight. Though there was no hint of an
engine, my thoughts wandered. I caught myself gazing up at the
stars. One moment then scanning the
dark Lawns for any sign of Life. The next that was one, I spotted
some shape shadowy and distant far up ahead.
It could have been anything, maybe a trick of the light but I
knew I wasn't imagining it when it seemed to inch closer.
Despite my pulse kicking up, I told myself it was probably just
a neighbor. No, big deal, right?
I couldn't turn around anyway, or I'd risk having this person
behind me for the rest of my walk.
So onward, I went staying near the curb with Ren snuffling at
every mailbox post. The figure looked tall, and as
we got nearer, I noticed they wore glasses, the glow of the
yard lights, reflected off the lenses, revealing the slightest
flicker, each time they shifted that reflection was weirdly
hypnotic, like, two little mirrors.
Aimed my way, I tried not to stare the next overhead Street.
Lamp was a good stretch down the road leaving a big patch of
Gloom between us. In those few seconds of partial
Darkness, I realized how quiet the figure was no phone in hand.
No, shuffling of feet on gravel, nothing.
I braced myself half expecting a greeting or nod that moment.
Never arrived, Ren. Perked up.
This was unusual. He barely reacted to strangers.
The leash went taught in my grip.
We were nearly side by side when the figure stopped my breath
caught in my throat without a word.
This person started to move in Reverse every step aligning with
mine, as if we were dancing to some silent beat.
Ren normally, my gentle buddy erupted in barks straining so
hard. That I nearly lost my balance.
My thoughts careened from embarrassment, over my suddenly,
feral sounding dog to a sharper, dread pulsing at the edges of my
mind. The Stranger had no, dog.
No friendly. Wave.
Just a silent backward. Pace.
Keeping that reflective stare locked on me.
I couldn't pin down. What felt more?
Unsettling wrens, Fierce reaction or the steady way.
The stranger retreated. Never breaking.
I contact from behind those lenses. in that instant, the
streetlights seem dimmer the houses, two still I gripped
rinse leash with Trembling Hands, not sure whether to shout
or just keep moving. The only thing I knew for
certain was that every inch of me wanted to get out of there
fast, I wasn't about to wait, there locked in that.
Disturbing standoff with a stranger who glided backward
like some silent puppet. My eyes landed on a brighter
intersection, a short distance away lit by scattered porch,
bowls and the faint glow of passing headlights.
Without a second thought I tugged on wrens, leash and
practically lunged in that direction.
He resisted at first barking as though, unwilling to let this
bizarre threat out of his sight. It took a few harsh polls before
he followed both of us, stumbling onto the better lit
Side Road, the sudden shift from dark to light made my eyes ache,
I looked back searching for any glimpse of the stranger but the
gloomy stretch of houses seemed deserted.
Either he'd melted into the Shadows or my nerves were wound
so tight that I just couldn't see clearly.
Ren wine, ears. Pinned forward still keyed up.
Like something wasn't right. My grip on his leash was damp
with sweat, and I kept expecting to spot a silhouette lurking
behind a mailbox or creeping around the corner.
All I wanted at that point was the safe familiarity of home.
Every time a branch Russell or a nightbird called, I nearly
jumped. It felt as though the entire
neighborhood held its breath waiting.
There was no one to call out to know.
Friendly face peeking through a window.
Just a few blocks more, I thought.
A few more blocks and I could slam my door.
Shut against whatever. Madness.
I just witnessed. I kept glancing over my
shoulder, half expecting to catch a flicker of those
reflective glasses in the distance.
Instead all I saw were wet driveways and dim silhouettes of
parked cars, I had to slow my Pace when a car.
Finally appeared, its headlights swept across me, casting warped,
Shadows across the street. For an instant.
I panicked that the driver might be the same person but it was
just some random sedan trundling along oblivious to my anxiety as
soon as the car was gone, the silence returned even heavier.
My house felled impossibly far away but after what seemed like
forever, I spotted my porch light.
Normally that soft glow was comforting and in an everyday,
sort of way. But tonight, it felt like a
beacon. Ren pulled ahead eager to get
inside as well. He wasn't calm yet.
And honestly, neither was I, by the time, I reached the front
door, my hands were shaking so badly that I had to Fumble with
my keys a few times before I managed to fit one into the
lock. When the door clicked open, I
nearly burst through. Dragging Ren in behind me.
I flicked on every lamp I could reach flipping them off again.
When I realized how exposed the bright Windows might make me
then I reversed my choice. Darkness felt even more
vulnerable. I settled for a single table,
lamp in the living room. Just enough to see what I was
doing. Ren paced around whining, still
rattled. I kept expecting a knock at the
door or a face peering in from the window.
My heart thudded. Every time I imagine the
scenario, Eventually, I made myself, check each, lock the
back door, even the tiny windows by the laundry room.
Everything was Secure but it didn't help me.
Relax my mind, raced with questions, who had I just
crossed paths with? Why did he move in that bizarre
backward stride keeping me in his line of sight?
Was it some Twisted prank? Or was I this close to a genuine
threat? I spent the next hour perched on
the edge of the couch phone in hand debating, whether to call
someone anyone and explain. But what would I say that?
A strange man freaked me out by walking in reverse.
It sounded ridiculous yet. The Dread felt so real.
I couldn't wipe away the image of those mirrored lenses
reflecting the Suburban lights or the way Ren had erupted.
Like he was defending us from a real monster.
Sleep was out of the question. Even after I finally managed to
shut off the lights and make my way to bed, I kept imagining
footsteps crunching on gravel outside my window.
Each time I drifted off, I jerked awake to silence,
certain, I'd heard something. Wren.
Lay curled at my feet, occasionally lifting his head
like he too expected an intruder.
By morning the sun, spilled in through the blinds painting
everything in warm normal Hughes, the terror fell distant,
almost unreal as though my mind had conjured in the Darkness.
But the leash was still buy the front door with a fresh set of
teeth marks from where Ren had yanked it in his Frenzy.
That was enough to remind me. What happened the night before?
Wasn't just in my head I never did see the figure again.
Still each evening afterward. Whenever I took ran out, I
caught myself scanning the end of every street.
Looking for a tall silhouette, maybe a glint of glasses, and if
I so much as glimpsed, any shape in the distance, my chest
tightened in an instant That's the thing about Terror, it
clings to you even long after your doorstep is locked up
tight, like it's prowling. Just behind the places where the
lights stops. I always used to roll my eyes at
ghost stories and all those Things That Go Bump in the
night. Growing up in a small Utah Town,
though. You start to realize that the
landscape can play tricks on you.
My house, sat right where the building stopped, and the
Wilderness began beyond our backyard fence was just this
enormous field stretching on Forever Until the desert touched
distant mountains. On some days, you could see dust
devils spinning across the flat earth.
Like they had a mind of Their Own Living there felt like
living at the boundary between normal life and the unknown.
My best friend lived. Next door, though.
Next door was really just across a patch of wild grass, our homes
formed the last two spots of civilization on this lonely
Street, which ended in an empty cul-de-sac.
As far as anyone could tell, the town had planned to expand at
some point, but they never got around to it.
So the coldest sat forgotten, half carved into the dirt.
It was high school and I spent more time at my friend's place
than my own. His basement was our Hideout, a
tattered old couch. A TV that barely worked and a
mini fridge. Usually stocked with soda and
leftovers, The window. Well in that basement was the
only view outside but it was a comfort until Knights fell and
it turned into a black void that made us both feel uneasy.
Every so often we'd be in the middle of a late night, gaming
marathon when a noise drifted through that window.
A slow, scraping Shuffle mixed with something like a gargling
cough. The first time it happened, we
paused the game stared at each other and thought maybe it was
just the wind blowing trash around.
Then it happened again another night and it started to feel too
deliberate to be the wind. Neither of us had the nerve to
walk up stairs and fling, open the back door.
So we just sat there. Telling each other, it had to be
animals. Or who knows what But there was
attention growing between us, neither of us believed the
excuses. We tried shining flash lights
through the glass once. Nothing jumped out.
But the beam caught hints of movement, the kind that makes
you question, if your eyes are messing with you, The next
morning, we looked for tracks in the mud convinced wheat, find
some stray dogs Footprints, or maybe raccoon tracks something
normal, but the ground was smooth Disturbed only by random
patches of weeds. That was when the question
lodged itself in my brain. If there was nothing back there,
what made the noise? Time wore on and the weird
occurrences became part of our routine.
Like how you eventually stopped reacting to a house settling in
the middle of the night? We kept living Our Lives,
shrugging it off as coincidence. But each time, I headed home
through that empty field, the air felt heavy as if the dusty
ground was concealing a secret just out of sight.
When the wind blew across those low bushes, it sounded more like
hushed Whispers than just leaves rustling.
My friend was getting ready to move soon.
His parents were taking him to another part of the state.
We spent our last few weeks of freedoms soaking up every bit of
fun. We could a nagging voice in my
head told me something was looming.
Like the field itself was waiting for the perfect moment
to prove us right about our fears.
The final days electric as if the knights had gotten darker
and the quiet had grown a little too thick.
We were both on edge though, we hardly admitted it.
One evening, I stepped out onto his back porch to grab something
from the truck, and the site of the empty, cul-de-sac struck me
in a way it never had before. The Street Lamp at the end of
the road was broken leaving that corner in pitch black darkness.
There was a feeling, almost like the darkness was crawling closer
pressing on the edges of our property.
I hurried back inside acting like I was just cold but really,
I couldn't stand being out there any longer than I had to little.
Did I know that creeping sense of dread was only the beginning.
There were still more odd happenings to come nights of
uneasy sleep and half of imagined shapes at the window.
I tried to laugh at all, but that place had a hold on me.
It was like an ancient desert creature biding its time,
letting the moonless nights build an atmosphere of tension
that no amount of logical thinking could dismantle.
And if I had known what was waiting for us on the other side
of that pitch black field, I might have never left that
basement at all. I had no idea how quickly things
could escalate until the night, my friend.
And I decided to go for one last drive through that Dusty
cul-de-sac. He was days away from moving and
we were both Restless, the thought of staying in that
basement had started making my stomach churn so we figured a
bit of fresh air might call Marner nerves or at least
distract us. we climbed into his old truck around midnight
cranking the engine in the kind of Silence only broken by our
jittery breathing, When we pulled out of the driveway, we
flicked on the high beams and I spotted a rabbit darting off
into the field. that tiny movement reminded me how alive
the darkness could be We turned the wheel toward the empty
roundabout thinking. We'd make a quick loop back onto
the Main Street. That stretch of pavement was
practically abandoned, no lights, no houses, just a half
circle of asphalt leading into a wall of brush and Sage.
As soon as the headlights cut across the dirt, we both locked
onto something, hunched low in the beam.
At first my eyes struggled to make sense of the shape. it
looked vaguely human but not quite Pale limbs jutted out at
angles, that didn't seem right each joint too long, too gone
and the skin thin and almost translucent clung to its frame
like it had been plastered on. Neither of us, spoke.
The truck, idled headlights. Illuminating, this figure in a
stark white glow. Every cell in my body begged me
to Blink to look away but I couldn't.
The things head swiveled toward us.
Revealing an open mouth stretched.
Far beyond normal. It reminded me of a snake
dislocating. Its jaw, except there was no
visible tongue, no teeth. I could make out just a Dark
Hollow. Then there were the eyes black
and almost reflective as if they soaked up the truck's
headlights. A bolt of panic shot through me.
The thing jerked backward, contorting itself in a way that
defies simple physics, it zipped into the brush, almost, as if
someone had hit rewind. We stayed put gripping the wheel
in the passenger seat, trying to piece together.
What we just seen that half, second felt like it lasted an
hour and yet the moment was gone before, we could react my
friend, slammed the truck into reverse, there was no debate, no
words exchanged. He just gunned it.
We tore out of that cold a sack gravel spraying against the
undercarriage. The whole time I had this urge
to twist around and check the rear window.
I was too afraid of seeing another glimpse of that pale
form lunging after us. When we made it back to his
place, we jumped out of the truck and sprinted inside.
Neither of us wasted time fumbling with the lights.
We flipped on every switch we could reach checking Windows
hearing through the blinds. The house felt too quiet.
Like the air had been drained out of the rooms.
We double locked, the back door and huddled in the basement.
The place that had once, been our cozy Refuge now feeling like
a bunker, For hours, we just sat there, occasionally Whispering
possibilities. Was it a person starving and
sick? Some kind of animal with mange,
But none of that explained, the unnatural angles of its limbs or
the gaping jaw that looked like a black pit.
At one point I thought I heard a shuffling noise of us but I
couldn't be certain if it was just the house settling or My
Imagination Running Wild We kept the TV on low more for noise
than anything else. But every, so often weed, muted
convinced something outside had moved.
We never could bring ourselves to open the basement window even
though part of me wanted to check that empty field and see
if it was still lurking. Caution one out, I wasn't in a
hurry to come face to face with that creature again.
Eventually the sun started to rise leaking, week, orange light
into the basement. The moment we saw the first
glow. We exhaled relief.
We hadn't known. We were holding in. the new day
offered a layer of safety, making the events of the night
feel strangely dreamlike My friend packed a few more things.
And as he loaded them into his truck, he paused in the yard.
I caught him staring at the cul-de-sac, probably thinking
the same thing I was Would we ever figure out what it had been
skulking out there? He drove away.
Two days later, leaving me to face a weird mix of emptiness
and lingering dread whenever I glanced out toward those fields.
For a while. I tried to dismiss the memory of
that night, as a trick of fear and headlights.
But whenever I passed that spot where the asphalt ended in the
desert began the memory resurface sharp and Vivid the
possibility. That the thing might still be
waiting behind the brush, never felt far-fetched anymore, a few
months after he left, I left two heading off to Chase my own
future. But whenever I come back to
visit those fields, remain exactly the same.
I'll drive by slowly resisting, the urge to scan the Shadows,
convinced that if I look too long, I might see a flash of
pale skin, bony Limbs, and that Halo grin. and no matter how
much time passes that possibility, keeps me from
feeling truly safe in the place, I once called home I remember
paddling onto the shore of little Triscuit as dusk settled
in feeling more worn out than usual.
The day had been Relentless miles of Open Water.
The sun beating down without Mercy.
Still. Guiding trips at Lake of the
Woods, always brought a strange mix of excitement and weariness.
Maybe it was the way the endless trees crowded, the shoreline or
how Legends around this place never stopped swirling.
Among those who'd been here long enough. whatever it was, I
carried an edge of nervous energy with me as I helped
unload the canoes My co-guide Jordan and I had seven campers
with us ranging from 12 to 17. One of them let's call him Mark.
Rarely spoke in full sentences. When he did the word sometimes
tumbled out like he'd been bottling them up for days.
I had admired his determination to keep Pace with everyone, but
there was a look on his face that evening almost like he
wanted to tell me something and couldn't quite get it out.
While the other set up the tents and try to scrape mud off their
boots. I walked the perimeter of the
campsite taking note of the thick undergrowth beyond the
fire pit, my gut told me to keep an eye on that shadowy border.
Sunlight was fading fast. And the forest seemed to fold in
around us. The moment I turned back to the
main site, I spotted marks standing at the edge of the
trees, squinting into the dimness.
Who is that man? He asked voice flat.
I stopped in my tracks and looked where he was pointing.
No one was there except Jordan busy tying down a canoe I called
out Mark it's just us buddy and glanced around for any shape or
movement. Nothing, we counted, everyone
still seven campers present Mark.
Just kept staring though. Like, he expected something to
step out from behind a trunk at any second.
Jordan caught sight of our uneasy conversation and ambled
over. I filled him in quickly and we
both assured Mark that maybe he was seeing a trick of the light
Mark didn't argue, but he didn't look convinced either with
everyone's stomachs growling. We decided to shift Focus to
dinner. We gathered around the campfire,
the warmth of the Flames, cutting through the cool air.
A few of the boys tried to lighten the mood by laughing at
their own unfunny jokes. While our lone girl, Becca
stayed quietly by her tent. I felt a slight tension whenever
someone glanced toward the tree line, especially, mark.
It wasn't as if we'd actually seen anything, but the
atmosphere felt heavy like the forest was listening to Every
Word. By the time we finished eating
Darkness had swallowed, the last traces of Twilight.
The late glimmered under the Moonlight but the woods behind
us looked like a solid wall. The group was spent.
One by one, the kids peeled off to their tents.
Jordan and I settled into hours. Mentally ticking off safety
measures before trying to rest. Hours later or maybe it was just
a long half hour. My eyes snapped open at the
sound of Becca's voice. Stopped.
She called sounding annoyed. It came from a few yards away
where her tent was pitched. My pulse hammered, as I
scrambled for a flash light. Jordan fumbled with the zipper
and yelled back. Becca, everything.
Okay. She didn't answer for what felt
like an eternity then muttered something we couldn't catch.
We unzipped our tent and poked our heads out every other tent
was zip tight. No one wandering around the
breeze had vanished leaving the campsite unnerving.
Silent Finally, Becca's voice came again.
Low and shaky. I thought you two were shaking
my tent. Jordan and I looked at each
other and confusion, we hadn't so much as budge since turning
in. No one else had crawled out of
their tents, I would have heard or seen a flash light trying not
to sound too freaked. I said, We've been here the
whole time. After that, Becca went quiet.
The rest of the night passed with out further commotion, but
I doubt anyone slept well, Next morning, I expected everyone to
be released in the broad daylight instead, nervous,
chatter replaced, the usual morning groans about aches, and
pains from sleeping on the ground.
Becca emerged from her tent flushed with frustration.
Look she said brandishing a bent tent stake in my face.
I took it from her, puzzling over, how it ended up Twisted at
a neat, right angle. She had another one just like
it. They were sturdy metal stakes.
The kind that usually survive years of windstorms without
bending. Jordan and I tried forcing one
back into shape, but it may as well have been made of
reinforced steel. It wouldn't budge.
Becca insisted something, had yanked on her tent, forcing the
stakes to bend. She joked nervously that maybe
she'd pitched her tent on top of an angry chipmunk Den.
Nobody really laughed breakfast. Tasted Bland even though I used
the last of our precious cinnamon to spice up, oatmeal.
Everyone was eager to hit the canoes, whatever happened here
in the night. Nobody wanted to stick around
and find out if it would happen again.
We double-checked our gear that then shoved off into the calm
water. I glanced back over my shoulder
at little Triscuit heart in my throat, half expecting to see a
figure watching from the tree line.
But there was just the dim shape of our campfires ashes and a few
drifting wisps of smoke Jordan paddled alongside me expression,
tents we didn't say much, even the kids who usually bickered
over, who was the fastest kept their voices low, Part of me,
tried to shrug it all off. Maybe it was just bizarre luck.
Maybe we were all spooked by some trick of the light.
But part of me, couldn't shake the sense that little Triscuit
wasn't a place. You leave entirely behind I kept
that thought to myself for the moment silently hoping that the
next campsite would bring only ordinary Wilderness troubles.
Inside though I was already bracing for whatever else Lake
of the Woods might have up its sleeve.
By the time we finally shoved off from Little Triscuit, the
sky felt lighter. Like we were leaving something
behind in those Tangled trees. Of course, none of us actually
said that out loud. We just paddled letting the kids
chatter, fill the Stillness. Every so often Jordan and I
exchanged glances that said, are we really done with all that?
Neither of us, wanted to be the first to admit our nerves were
still jangling. For the next couple of days.
Our group followed the usual canoe trail through smaller
islands and calm coves. The mornings rolled by unevenly
the kids saying rowing song. Teased each other about who
needed more sunscreen and occasionally complained about
sore muscles. At night, though, my mind
drifted back to those bent Stakes, the trembling tent.
Things that didn't add up, no matter how I tried to
rationalize them. I caught Jordan scanning the
tree lines more than once as if half expecting some pale figure
to glide into view. On the third day.
After leaving little Triscuit, we found a Scenic campsite on
the opposite side of the lake. It had a more open clearing.
So at least we weren't surrounded by walls of
undergrowth this time. The kids seemed relieved.
They even built a small rock circle for the fire humming pop
tunes, like they were back in Civilization.
At first, I tried to match their mood, but each flicker of the
Flames made me remember the hush that fell over our group that
first night. When Mark claimed, he saw a man
in the woods. That evening, the silence came
down heavier, than before the wind died off, leaving the water
still as glass. once dinner ended a couple of the kids tried
to break the tension by telling jokes, but even though those
fizzled out Jordan finally decided to spin one of the local
Legends, something about sighting of a gaunt shape
roaming. These Shores rumored to appear.
If you doubted, its existence, The kids listened wide-eyed,
glancing at the forest and the quiet water.
I considered cutting him off but he was already in full
Storyteller mode. Describing, how people sometimes
woke to find their gear torn or Footprints circling their tents.
By the time he finished every crackle of burning wood made the
group jump Mark usually. So quiet spoke up then murmuring
about how the white shape only comes when people disrespected.
His voice was so subdued, that everyone had to lean in.
It felt like an echo from Little Triscuit and the memory left a
knot in my chest. The rest of the night passed on
easily, I found myself jolting awake at every Russell beyond my
tent listening for footsteps. That never came a couple more
days later. We finally made our way back to
base camp. Seeing the role of cabin's and
hearing the bustle of other campers, relaxed me a little,
like, stepping back into a world that obeyed normal rules.
The kids scattered to retreat, their duffle bags, grinning at
the promise of clean, showers and phone signals.
Jordan. And I began our usual routine of
hauling canoes on to racks and logging any equipment damage.
But my mind was still replaying everything marks warning, the
bent metal, Becca's, shaking tent.
Not long after we returned. I ran into a friend.
Another guy who'd stayed at little Triscuit, the night after
us. I asked her how the trip had
gone and she blurted out a strange story about seeing a
tall pale figure in the woods while she was off.
Finding a private spot to use the bathroom.
She assumed it was some camper wandering too close but when she
got back, everyone insisted they'd been by the fire the
whole time. I felt my stomach lurch. it was
more or less the same thing we'd experienced someone or something
lurking where it had no business being That afternoon word spread
around Camp about my conversation with her.
Other guides tossed in their stories, each one more unnerving
than the last. Footprints leading right to
attend door bizarre, tapping on canvas in the dead of night,
muffled sounds echoing through the trees.
One guy even swore. He saw a faint shapes slip into
the water near an island rumored to be haunted.
The common thread in all these Tales was that once people
returned to Basecamp the weirdness stopped.
It was almost like the forest itself refused to let outside or
scoff at his presence. I can't say I felt relief or
Terror as I listened to everyone's accounts more.
A grim sense of acceptance. I realized that what happened to
us, wasn't just a fluke, nobody used the word wendigo, openly,
not in any serious way, but the older guy's hinted at it in
hushed tones, they'd shake their heads and say it's best to
respect. What you don't understand.
Over the next few days. My thoughts kept drifting back
to that night with the shaking tent and the Twisted Stakes, or
to how Mark pointed straight into the darkness.
Convinced he saw a person out there Sleep was erratic even
casual noises doors slamming or equipment.
Rattling made me think about snapping branches and hush
blanketed forests. Jordan and I tried to joke it
off, but I could tell he was just as unsettled.
At some point, I stood alone by the base camp canoe racks and
let my eyes wander across the Horizon where the lake merged
with endless evergreens. Part of me, wondered if I should
take another trip out there just to prove, I wasn't spooked
Beyond reason, but Another Part Of Me answered, maybe give it
time and make sure you tread lightly if you ever go back.
right before heading in, for the night, I Glimpse something along
the tree line could have been just a shadow Another guy waved
me over to help with gear and when I glanced back, nothing was
there. I told myself it was a trick of
the fading light. Still an uneasy not remained in
my gut. The sense that something in
those woods keeps its own watch, follows its own rules and isn't
keen on giving up its secrets and I couldn't decide if I was
more afraid of running into it again or never knowing what was
truly there in the first place. I swear I could feel the tension
in the air. The moment we hauled that gear
onto the boat. The sun was just barely waking
up painting. The sky and soft, streaks of
orange and pink as my dad. And my brother wordlessly slid,
the boat into the water. Normally, I would have been
brimming with excitement for a trip like this deep in Northern
Canada searching for moose in a place that barely knew a human
footprint. But something about that
morning. Put me on edge.
It was too quiet, too. Still, we spent hours gliding
through winding rivers, that twisted around thick walls of
forest every so often we'd have to stop at a cluster of Rapids
Lugar boat and Supply's over slick rocks.
Then push forward again. My brother would occasionally
crack a half joke about my scrawny arms, not being up to
the task, but there was an uneasy note to his voice.
I just forced to laugh pretending.
Everything was fine. By late afternoon, it felt like
the wind itself had a banded us. We found a patch of Muddy River
Bank to set up camp. I remember letting out a
relieved sigh as we anchored the boat and offloaded our gear, the
forest around us loomed with Silhouettes.
That almost looked like watchful figures like the trees.
Themselves were sizing us up my dad, Shrugged it off when I
tried to mention it. He just muttered about how we
had to finish pitching the tent before we lost the last bit of
daylight. When we finally settled by our
modest campfire, my brother's usual.
Chatter fell oddly flat. I tried asking him if he'd
noticed, anything strange, while we were on the water, but he
just shook his head and poked at the Embers with a stick.
Maybe he wanted to ignore it, maybe I was being dramatic but
every now and then I caught him glancing over his shoulder,
checking the dark edges of the camp as if expecting something
to be there. Eventually both my dad and
brother decided to turn in for the night.
I felt too Restless. Two uneasy to sleep.
I told myself I'd collect more firewood, maybe shake off the
dais weird energy. The campfires glow only
stretched so far and as I move Beyond it, the air seemed to
thicken. There was an odor faint but
nauseating like expired food. My head felt light like I
couldn't quite keep my balance on the uneven ground.
I crouched to pick up a stray branch, and that's when I caught
a flicker of movement, along the tree line, Something rustled.
My heart hammered in my ears, a deep thumbing, that drowned out,
every other sound around me. The moon was faint, just enough
to tease shapes out of the darkness.
I squinted trying to see past a cluster of branches.
It looked like they were bending almost shifting in a way that
resembled a face. My mind churned with
explanations. Maybe a trick of Shadows, maybe
a deer turning its head. But as I watched that shape
began to look disturbingly human, a voice drifted out from
the dimness startling me it was warm, too, warm calling my name,
like it, belonged to someone, I loved a voice, I recognized
immediately. But the relative at belonged to
had been dead for months. My stomach lurched logic said
this was impossible. Yet my feet inched forward.
There was a gentle pleading tone in that voice.
Asking me to come closer that it missed me.
My chest tightened with a flood of conflicting emotions.
This was comforting and terrifying all at once.
Everything changed in a single beat the shape that had formed
that two familiar face shifted the skin or whatever was
imitating. Skin started to peel revealing a
grotesque smear of muscle and bone the mouth once smiling when
slack and over sense of alarm burned through me, I realized I
had wandered far from the fires, protective glow, whatever.
This thing was it abandoned its facade and snarled, commanding
me to move deeper into the dark. I stumbled backward, nearly
losing my grip on the branches in my hand.
I forced my body around and sprinted toward camp, but I
heard it crashing behind me. The wild beating in my chest
roared in my ears. The embankment leading up to the
camp. Felt like a mile high wall.
I scrambled on all fours. Trying to climb.
That's when it seized my ankle with a force that felt inhuman,
a choked sound escaped my mouth at first useless, then driven by
pure desperation. I found my voice and managed a
ragged scream for help praying, my dad or brother would hear
Suddenly my brother appeared at the top of the slope, his eyes
wide, as he grabbed my arms and yanked me with everything he
had. I could sense.
The creatures grips slipping could practically feel the anger
radiating from it in that final moment before it let go we
tumbled onto the dirt gasping for air my dad came racing out
of the tent rifle. In hand barking questions.
Through shattered breaths. I tried describing.
What I saw what I thought I saw. My brother cut me off with a
quick nod muttering that he caught a glimpse of it too.
That confirmation, he saw it. Froze, my blood.
I wanted to believe I was just hallucinating but now there was
no denying something nightmarish was out there.
We stayed close to the fire rifle's drawn scanning the edge
of the woods for any sign of movement.
The rest of the night stretched on like it would never end every
second charged with the fear of another attack.
In the smoldering Embers, glow. I couldn't get that rotting face
out of my mind, an echo of a loved one's voice twisting into
something. Monstrous, I had no idea if we
truly Escape, or if the worst was yet to come, I'd never felt
so alive. And so afraid at the same time,
My chest was still hammering from the encounter by the
riverbank. And as I stumbled back toward
the fire with my brothers helped, every shadow seemed
ready to lash out again. My dad rushed over rifle in hand
eyes darting from me to the dark tree line.
I tried to explain but my thoughts came out in Jagged
fragments something about a rotting face, torn skin, a voice
that never should have spoken again.
When I finally blurted that, it sounded like our dead relative,
the words tasted foul. Yet the worst part was that my
brother nodded confirming? He'd caught a glimpse of the
same horror. That small gesture.
Meant there was no more pretending I had imagined it.
We crowded around the fire. Almost huddling in a circle with
our guns laid out within reach. The crackling Flames were our
only comfort but they felt so fragile in that vast Darkness.
The silence was so heavy that every pop of burning wood made
me jolt. My dad kept his gaze fixed on
the tree line, scanning left and right as if daring that thing to
make a move. And the smell the rancid putrid
stench that clung to the are never faded it drifted in and
out as those something Unholy was circling just beyond what
the firelight revealed. Time dragged in that
suffocating, vigil. My brother and I didn't dare
speak above a whisper if at all. Every so often, I swore I saw a
tall silhouette flicker beyond the reach of the flames.
It would stand there looming, but when I blink or shift my
angle, it vanished. I started to question my own
eyes, my own sanity. Maybe it was just the Aftershock
of Terror, but then my brother gripped.
His gun tighter confirming. He saw it, too.
We never did get a clear. Look part of me was thankful for
that. I don't think I could handle
seeing its face a second time. By the time, the sky began to
lighten, I felt half crazed with exhaustion.
My eyes burned from keeping them open all night.
But none of us had dared to sleep, not even for a moment.
The Embers of the fire were low and the cold morning air made my
breath rise. Intense little clouds.
I couldn't wait to pack up in tear away from that cursed spot.
It felt like the forest itself was holding.
Its breath waiting for us to slip up.
We broke camp with a kind of frantic efficiency I'd never
seen before. My dad barked orders about
rolling up sleeping bags and tossing them onto the boat.
My brother didn't even crack a joke, his usual way of coping.
He had this Grim distant look as if he was already rehearsing a
story he didn't want to share. I kept glancing over my shoulder
convinced that if I let my guard down for a second that thing
would lunge at me again. The stench still lingered in my
nostrils and I felt like my lungs couldn't draw in a full
breath. when we finally shoved off, like I could barely feel my
hands, they trembled around the paddle.
My Palms slippery with sweat. The river seemed calmer than the
day before, but I caught glimpses of motion along.
The banks bony limbs darting between trees or maybe just my
imagination. Every time the boat scraped a
shallow rock or Driftwood, I panicked thinking it was the
creature grabbing hold again. My dad pressed us onward with a
fierce urgency. We had to cover the distance
back to civilization as fast as possible or risk.
Another night out here. Hours later the scent of wood
smoke in distant traffic. Lured Us in signs.
We were close to a small Outpost My entire body shook from the
come down from that raw gnawing Terror.
Yet the closer we got to actual homes and Roads, the more my
dread Twisted into something else.
A haunting certainty that I wouldn't truly leave this
behind. I had no idea if that entity or
some piece of it had followed us.
There was no sense of safety in me.
Just a growing paranoia even back home.
The nightmares took hold immediately.
That very night. I jolted away convinced.
I heard shuffling footsteps on the porch or scratching at my
window. Sometimes I dream of a half to
Cade face calling me closer. Rasping my name in a distorted
version of my relatives voice. Mourning would bring a flicker
of relief, but it never lasted. Every knock on the door or
Russell of wind made me jump, my brother wasn't any better off.
He'd had the same kind of nightmares, the we didn't dare
talk about it much. My dad on the other hand, grew
Solomon saying only that we mustn't.
Breathe a word to anyone Beyond a trusted few He claimed, nobody
would believe us and if they did they'd call us Reckless for
wandering into places. Best left alone.
Desperate for answers. We met with medicine men,
recommended by distant family friends.
They performed rituals and offered small protective charms.
Sachets filled with herbs. For a few nights afterward.
I managed to sleep a little longer before the nightmares got
me. But that creeping feeling never
went away. It clung to me like a damp chill
as though the entity had latched onto my spirit, the moment, it
seized my leg. Finally, I chose to spill what I
could to a couple of close friends.
They gave me crystals whispered about supernatural predators and
suggested. I carry salt in my pockets
whenever I headed out. I appreciated their concern, but
I couldn't shake the sense that the only one who truly
understood was my brother, because he saw that thing too.
If only for a Split Second, We all agreed to keep our story in
a tight little circle. Part of it was shame.
Not wanting the label of crazy pind on us. part of it was guilt
like we trespassed somewhere we shouldn't have and the forests
spat back and Unholy warning Mostly though, it was fear.
Fear that in telling the story, we'd summon that decaying
Phantom all over again. Now, whenever I'm anywhere near
the woods, I'm hyper aware of every twig, snap or drifting
shadow. I never stand with my back to
the trees anymore. Because in the deepest part of
my mind, I still smell that rancid stench and see a horrid
grin under peeling skin. And I know it's out there in
one, former another waiting for a moment of weakness.
I made it out once but something tells me this nightmare is far
from over. I started out late just a little
after 10 and the sky was pouring rain, like it was determined to
drench every inch of Bucks County.
Not the best conditions, but I driven these roads 100 times.
I guess that's why I barely thought twice.
As I pulled onto the highway, just, the usual annoyance of wet
tires and two few streetlights to really see more than a patch
of asphalt ahead. The wipers were working
overtime. Swiping at the windshield so
fast. It was almost hypnotic Part of
me wanted to pull over, and wait it out.
But another part insisted I'd be fine besides.
I was only about 45 minutes from home and the idea of relaxing in
my own bed, kept me forging ahead.
I Shrugged off the creeping sense of dread, blaming it on
the weather. A quarter hour into the drive.
I found myself scanning the darkness on either side, maybe
because I've seen dear dart out at the worst moments before.
This time though, I noticed something looming in my Lane way
off in the distance. The shapes seemed too big to be
a normal deer Way Too Tall. Almost giraffe like in the way
it stretched upward. My pulse hammered at the base of
my throat, as I lifted my foot off the gas.
I wondered if my eyes were just playing tricks but it was
definitely there a shadow that swallowed any light from my high
beams refusing to reflect a single Shimmer.
I kept easing on the breaks worried that a sudden stop might
make me spin out. The car wobbled a bit tires.
Skidding on the Slick surface. A few hundred feet away from
this thing. I glanced down at my speedometer
and realized I was going faster than I thought.
Letting out a shaky breath. I grip the wheel tighter gearing
up for an impact. I half expected.
I blinked rainwater from my lashes, forcing myself to keep
my attention on the road. Getting closer, the figure
started flickering at the edges, like it couldn't decide whether
to be there or not. Water pelted, the windshield and
the wipers made a groaning noise as they whipped back and forth
but somehow that shape stayed outside the range of my
headlights my vision blurred for a split second.
I fiddled with the lever turning the wipers to Max and still, I
couldn't get a clear view before I could comprehend it the
silhouette vanished. One moment I was about to face
down some huge creature. The next I saw only empty
asphalt glistening in the wet glare of my high beams My shoes
pressed harder on the brakes and the car shuddered to a stop in
the middle of the highway. I let out a ragged exhale
scanning, the road ahead, the ditches on either side.
Nothing a car behind me honked far off, probably still a good
distance away so I tap the gas and force myself forward Reign
hammered against the roof and I murdered a few curses under my
breath Half convinced. I'd imagine everything.
That's when something smaller dashed right in front of my
grill. There was no time to brace for
impact, it popped into view and shot across the road in the
blink of an eye. My chest tightened ready for a
thud alert anything but I felt nothing, the roads stayed clear,
and the only sound was the whoosh of water under my tires
for a few seconds. I thought I might be losing my
mind. I ease the car down to a crawl,
glancing in my rearview mirror, fully expecting to see a riding
body on the pavement. Still no sign of anything.
No carcass, no shape scurrying off into the trees, nothing.
It was like the road had swallowed it.
The remaining half-hour home was a blur.
Every flicker of movement branches?
Swaying puddles splashing made me.
Jump by the time I parked my hands ached from gripping, the
steering wheel. I've rushed inside and told the
story to my boyfriend on the phone.
Practically tripping over my own words.
He tried to call me down said maybe it was just the bad
weather, in my eyes, playing tricks, but I could tell he was
spooked by how she can I sounded that night?
I barely slept. I kept thinking about that
towering silhouette and the smaller Phantom that zipped past
my car. Normal deer.
Sightings don't make me feel this unsteady.
I had no idea what I'd run into out there and the not knowing
was the worst part. All I wanted was an explanation
that made sense. But I also dreaded the thought
that this was only the beginning of something bigger and far,
more frightening. I woke up way too early.
I's gritty from a night of tossing and turning Even in the
Bright Morning Light, I couldn't get rid of the images.
Swirling in my head, those Silhouettes that appeared and
vanished during my drive. It had me on edge in a way.
I've never felt before. Normally, I'd grab breakfast and
scroll social media for a while, but that morning, I found myself
hunched over my phone searching, every corner of the internet for
some logical explanation. Dear collision's, weird
reflection issues. Illusions caused by rain.
They all popped up yet. None matched.
What I had experienced. Some people online talked about
Cryptids, discussing wendigo's or shapeshifters.
Honestly I wasn't sure if I believed in any of that.
Still, the descriptions creatures, that didn't reflect
light properly animals that stood unnaturally tall left me
more uneasy, it felt like one of those rabbit holes, you fall
down when you're desperate for answers, but every new sentence
I read made the memory worse. Rather than Comfort, I got a
deeper sense that the roads, I'd always considered home turf
might be hiding something. I couldn't begin to understand.
By the time I shut off my phone, the sun was well above the
rooftops and I realized I was gonna be late for work.
If I didn't hurry, I forced myself into a quick shower.
Hoping hot water would jolt me awake enough to function.
My reflection in the bathroom. Mirror was more pallid than
usual eyes ringed with exhaustion.
I couldn't bring myself to dwell on it too long because I knew if
I stared too hard I might talk myself into calling out sick.
Stepping outside. I noticed how normal everything
seemed The sky was a bright blue, last night's puddles,
evaporating in small wiste's off the asphalt.
Neighbor's were driving off on daily routines.
No one looking even remotely Disturbed.
Part of me wished, I could blend into that normalcy, just pushed
last night into some forgotten corner of my mind.
It was tough to do that though. When every time I blinked, I
imagine that warped. Creature was waiting behind my
eyelids. I hopped into my car feeling my
chest tightened, when I reached for the ignition, the memory of
gripping, the steering wheel in the dark, bracing for a
collision that never happened. Came rushing back.
But it was broad daylight now, so it had to be safer, right?
I tried to convince myself of that, as I pulled out of the
driveway work was only 10 minutes away a drive filled with
school zones and traffic lights. Know lonely highways where
horrifying shapes might materialize as I cruise through
town. I caught myself glancing, at
every patch of grass, along the sidewalk.
Almost expecting to see a deer like silhouette behind every
tree. Nothing out of the ordinary
showed up. Yet my nerves remained on alert.
When I finally arrived at work, I breathed a small sigh of
relief. Being around co-workers and busy
tasks offered a distraction. I was able to shove those
thoughts aside for a handful of hours, losing myself in the
mundane swirl of emails and phone calls.
But every so often while staring at my computer screen, I'd
remember the flickering edges of that shadow.
It would Replay in my mind and uninvited Loop.
After clocking out, I knew I couldn't hide indoors forever.
Groceries were running low and I needed gas.
So I decided to swing by a store on the outskirts of town.
The drive there felt normal enough.
Bright Sun. Mild traffic.
Folks. Moving along. but as soon as I
left the more congested roads and turned onto a quieter
stretch, that skirted a patch of woods, my heartbeat started
hammering, the trees were not thick enough to truly block out
the Sun, but the overhang of branches dappled.
The road in Shadows. I noticed how they seemed to
shift with each gust of wind. And it was impossible.
Not to recall that ephemeral silhouette from last night.
Just as I crested a small hill, a deer stepped out from the
brush. This was definitely a real one.
Normal height regular. Fur ordinary, antlers yet,
something about its posture made me slow down.
It locked eyes with me through the windshield.
For a split second. I swore at recognized me
rationally I knew that was observed.
How would a deer recognize me specifically but it stare was
unwavering and I felt pinned there as if an invisible string
tugged between us. My hand Shook on the wheel and I
barely remembered to tap the brakes.
As it casually ambled across the pavement, once it reached the
other side, it paused head. Slightly turned still watching.
Without making a sound, I pressed the gas rolling forward
at a crawl. Not daring to take my eyes off
it until it was out of sight. Nothing about that.
Brief exchange should have been remarkable.
But it left me rattled. Eventually I finished shopping
and headed home groceries rattling in the back seat.
I tried to laugh at off getting spooked by a typical deer and
broad daylight. It still made my chest tighten
though because I felt a certain awareness in that encounter like
it was reminding me of the shapes.
I had seen just hours before. When I finally got back, I felt
strangely drained. Like I had run a marathon even
though I only run errands That evening I settled onto the couch
with my phone determined to find something, anything that would
help me handle this situation. My boyfriend texted me asking
how I was holding up and I spilled my thoughts in a long
rambling, reply, he brought up the idea of a dash cam and I
quickly realized he was right. If there was something strange
out there, maybe I could capture it.
That possibility sent a shiver of dread through my whole body.
Did I really want proof that these Shadows existed?
But ignoring them didn't feel like an option anymore.
I ended up reading through product reviews and ordering one
that promised high-quality night footage.
The second, I hit the confirm button, it felt like I had
crossed a line. I was inviting a confrontation
with the unknown. After that, I walked around my
living room. Clicking off lamps.
Flipping them back on anything to keep myself occupied.
It was just about Sunset and I noticed how the clouds were
shifting into thick masses of gray.
Another storm was brewing, I glanced out the window, staring
down the darkening Street, houses glowed with porch lights
and cars, passed lazily but the storm clouds made me think of
last night's downpour In the pit of my stomach.
I sense that something waited for Nightfall.
My phone buzzed with a text, my friend, wanting me to hang out,
but the thought of driving after Sundown made me hesitate.
Eventually I replied that I wasn't feeling up to it.
I tried to ignore the wave of anxiety, that simple decision
caused, but I knew I was changing my routine out of fear.
Before bed, I kept checking the shipping status of my dash cam.
Like it was some Lifeline, I stared at the clock measuring
each passing minute against the deepening Gloom outside.
Rain started tapping at the windows, again, not nearly as
Fierce as last time. But enough that it brought back
flashes of how it felt to be caught in that downpour on the
highway. My stomach twisted and Knots and
I gripped the edge of the table half expecting to see a tall
silhouette cross the yard, or another smaller creature zipped
by the corner of my vision. Nothing moved except for the
occasional flicker of headlights from a passing car.
By the time midnight rolled around, I was wide awake senses.
So sharp that the ticking clock in the kitchen, sounded like a
drum beat. The forecast promised heavier
rain, later in the week. The idea of driving in those
conditions, again, made my heart pound.
I wished I could just bury myself under blankets and never
leave the house until I had that dash cam rolling but life would
go on and I couldn't avoid the roads forever.
From my window I watched as the sky, finally split open in a
drizzle. Drops bounced off the pavement.
Reflecting the streetlights dull glow.
Somewhere beyond that thin curtain of water.
I felt a presents. Was it just paranoia a leftover
fear from a single terrifying Drive?
I didn't have an answer. What I did know, was that
everything in my life? Seemed different.
Now, like I'd stepped into a reality where the rules had
shifted slightly off-center tomorrow.
I'd have to face another day, possibly another drive and
sooner or later I'd be out there at night again.
As the rain fell, I wondered if those Silhouettes were out in
the darkness waiting for the next chance to appear and I
couldn't decide which possibility, scared me more, the
idea that it was all in my head or that every bit of it was
real. I've been in this Farmhouse, my
whole life. So nights out here, usually feel
familiar, almost comforting. You learned to tune out the
usual creeks in the old, would the distant lowing of cattle and
the soft chirping that drifts in through the windows.
But that evening something put me on edge.
It started as I was going through my usual end of day
routine. I was alone.
So I felt a bit jumpier than usual.
The living room lamp clicked off leaving the space.
A lot darker than I remembered. The silence pressed in and I
headed to the front windows for my final pass just to be sure.
Everything was locked up. I nearly convinced myself.
I was being paranoid when a faint glow caught my eye
outside. At first, I thought I was
imagining it. Two spots of light, hovered near
the tree line, too. High off the ground to be a
stray cat or a fox. I took off my glasses rubbed, my
eyes and looked again, but they were gone.
My brain scrambled to come up with a rational, explanation
maybe fireflies caught in August of wind or reflection of the
moon on broken glass. Still, I made certain to lock
every door and window before heading up stairs.
Heart thrumming a little harder than I cared to admit.
I didn't sleep well, Dawn arrived too fast, and I was
already dragging myself out of bed to 10 the animals.
I hopped into my boots, stepped outside and got hit with a
stale. Humid smell floating on the
morning Breeze. It felt wrong somehow but I
shoved that aside and focused on chores.
My first stop was the barn. The horse's were fine.
Just a bit Restless. The real shock came when I
checked on the cows. There were fewer than yesterday.
I counted at least twice but it didn't add up.
Maybe I miscounted before or maybe some had wandered off.
That's when I noticed the fence. What used to be a sturdy section
was torn and sagging like something big and strong had
barreled right through it. Splintered wood.
Jutted at weird, angles. I leaned in for a closer look
and saw footprints in the dirt. They were strange almost a
hybrid shape part hoof. Parts.
Something else entirely. My family's taught me all about
local Wildlife yet. These tracks didn't match
anything I had seen or heard about the uneasy feeling I had
the night before started creeping back.
I checked the rest of the property finding no other Clues,
so I tried to move on patching. The fence is best I could until
I had helped. As the day dragged on, I found
it. Tough to focus.
My phone lit up with a text from my girlfriend and the
conversation blew up into a full on fight.
It left me tents and itching to clear my head.
So after dusk, I grabbed my phone and headphones heading off
toward the forest. I've hiked it a thousand times,
but this was different. Something about the night, air
felt oppressive. Like it was charged.
I cranked up my music to overpower my thoughts and
wandered deeper than I intended before I knew it, Darkness was
everywhere. I flipped on my phone's
flashlight, sweeping it around. I caught the reflection of
something that looked like, eyes in the beam hide behind a tree.
As soon as I angled my phone that way, the reflection
vanished leaving me reeling from A Rush of panic.
Maybe it was a trick of the light again or maybe not.
A growl rippled through the trees, low, and ragged.
Unlike anything I had heard in these Woods.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled and I realized I had no
clue where the path went. I started to backtrack stumbling
over, roots and tangling my boots in undergrowth.
My flash light shook with each step.
Then a sharp snap like a branch being crushed under foot sounded
close to close. Fear surged in my chest.
I had to get out my jog, turned into a full on Sprint.
Branches, slapping my face. And arms when I finally saw The
Farmhouse lights in the distance, I breathed a silent
prayer of relief. I hopped the broken fence nearly
face planting on the other side. Something moved at the tree
line, tall menacing with eyes that gleamed faintly in the
dark. A vial odor, hit me intense
enough to make me gag. It never Advanced it just stood
there watching with a Stillness that felt deliberate.
Like it was studying me. I forced myself inside, slam the
door and locked it, my heart hammered, as I peeked out a
window, only to Glimpse that pair of eyes still trained on
me. Enough was enough.
I yanked, the blinds down shut off every light and made my way
to my room, grabbing the old shotgun from my closet, just to
steady my nerves. That night sleep was a distant
thing. My thoughts were in a world cows
disappearing, fences, torn Footprints, with no reasonable
explanation and a hulking silhouette, crouched at the edge
of my land. I tried to convince myself, I'd
wake up and find a neat explanation, but I knew deep
down that something big and unknown was stalking these
Woods. I woke the next morning with the
shotguns still clutched in my arms feeling, like I'd only
dozed off in brief intervals. The sun was out but it did
nothing to chase off the dread. Tightening my chest.
I dragged myself outside to survey the damage.
Sure enough. Another cow was gone.
The fencing. I'd patched was shredded again.
Splinters littered the ground and I spotted Crimson smears on
The Wire that looked too fresh to be old stains.
There were Footprints too. The kind, I had no name for long
deformed Impressions that seemed part hoof Parts.
Something far more disturbing. I forced myself deeper into the
pasture, shotgun ready? It felt ridiculous.
But every rustle in the grass, every flutter of a bird made me
jump, the forest stood ominously, just be on the
fields, an unspoken invitation for this thing to come and go at
will despite the daylight I sensed.
I wasn't alone. Frustration, and anger flared.
Inside me, I had lived here all my life and no known creature
was going to claim this land as a feeding ground.
I mustered enough nerve to stand at the tree line, hollering into
the undergrowth that I wasn't afraid.
My voice Shook and the echo that returned from the Stillness was
unnerving. For a split second, I thought I
saw a black shape slip between the trunks but whether it was
the thing itself or just my imagination, I had no intention
of finding out. I have jogged back to The
Farmhouse, all the while feeling that same prickling sense of
being watched. That afternoon I did everything
I could think of to prepare, I scavenged the barn for nails
boards and tools then rigged makeshift barricades on the
Windows. It felt a little excessive, but
the memory of those eyes peering at me, the night before kept me
hammering away. I stacked Furniture against
certain doors, I never used bracing them from the inside.
The place looked more like a fortress with each passing hour
and I hated that, I needed this level of security in my own
home. As dusk crept closer.
I patrolled the house again. Triple checking every lock The
air outside turned heavy and the wind rustled, the Dead Leaves
near the fence. It carried a faint.
Sickly smell that made my stomach churn.
I couldn't shake the sense that it was out their sizing me up
waiting for Darkness to hide its advanced.
Night finally fell and with it. The usual Forest noises
vanished. No crickets, no frogs.
Just an unsettling quiet that set me on edge.
My muscles tensed with every step across the old floorboards.
I turned off most of the lights, leaving a few dim lamps so I
could see if anything moved outside.
My shotgun was within Arm's Reach and I had a pistol
holstered at my hip just in case a few hours crawled by and
suffocating silence. I thought maybe just maybe I had
overdone it. That's when a sudden crash
rattled, the front door, the force behind the blow, echoed
through the house. My mouth went dry and my heart
thundered in my ears. Another crash.
The door frame quake and I heard glass pop and skitter across the
floor. Somewhere down stairs.
A low Roar Rose from behind the walls.
So pharaoh and strange that I felt the vibrations in my chest.
Something was forcing its way in and my body reacted, before my
brain caught up, I snatched the shotgun and scrambled up stairs,
nearly tripping on the last step.
In the hall way, each footstep of the Intruder felt heavier
than any humans. The boards creaked, as if under
the weight of something, colossal, an overpowering stench
drifted toward me, thick enough to taste.
I covered my nose with my sleeve.
Trying not to rest. Then came the banging on the
door to my room. Loud, rhythmic hits that
shattered. My nerve splinters of wood flew.
As I shouldered the door shoving, a dresser into place to
buy a few seconds. The door buckled, and I finally
caught sight of it. The crack between the door and
frame gave me a horrible Glimpse.
Matted fur something like a deer's skull topped with Twisted
antlers but with patches of rotting skin clinging to it.
My hands shook as I racked, the shotguns first shell.
I aimed the door burst open. Sending shards of wood
everywhere. I fired the muzzle.
Flash lit up. The creatures.
Hideous features empty eyes set in decaying sockets, and open
mall, with a jaw that seemed off killed her.
It led out a horrible Screech that made me recoil.
Then launched, I fired again, The Recoil slamming, back into
my shoulder, but I refused to let go, the things, staggered
leaking, a dark foul substance, that smelled like death.
It howled flailing, those long limbs in Fury.
I kept my finger on the trigger, racking another shell firing and
doing it again until I was spent.
Each shot was deafening and the house trembled with every Roar
from that Abomination. Finally, it staggered backward
Wheeling around and confusion it, tore down, part of the
hallway as it fled smashing through walls and overturning
Furniture in its Escape. I grabbed my pistol sprinting,
after it down the stairs, my heart hammered, but adrenaline
pushed me forward, the front door, the very one.
It had battered in now, stood ripped off its hinges.
Outside the shape lumbered across the yard.
It's outlined was monstrous lit by a flickering, porch light,
with a trembling grip. I squeezed off a few rounds.
The bullet seemed to do little more than anger at further.
It whipped its head back unleashing a final Roar that
reverberated off the barn, then bounded into the forest Shadows.
I wanted to chase it but the rational side of me knew that
was suicide. I called out a string of curses
equal parts terrified and Furious watching it vanished
between the looming trees. Then there was sudden, silence
broken only by my ragged breathing.
Even the wind had died leaving the yard unnaturally still.
My front door was on the ground. The hinges Twisted inside, I
discovered the windows where I swore.
I'd heard glass explode were strangely intact as if reality
had split for a moment and then stitched itself back together.
Leaving evidence only in the wrecked wood and bullet casing
scattered at my feet. I leaned against the splintered
frame, shotgun and Pistol hanging limply in my hands
trying to piece everything together.
I stayed that way for what felt like hours until I realized, I
had to come up with a believable story from my parents.
There was no way to explain giant claw marks or bullet
holes. That made any sense.
I finally decided to say I'd lost my temper during a personal
crisis, blowing holes in the door, myself a story that
wouldn't earn me any points but at least it wouldn't brand me a
lunatic. By the time morning came, I was
exhausted but the house and yard were eerily calm stains on the
floor, had vanished. The only real reminder of the
battle was my ruined doors and the crippling weight in my
chest. The phone rang soon after.
My folks, checking up on me. I lied as smoothly as I could
about the door, promising to fix it before they got home.
They threatened to ground me for the rest of my life, but that
was a relief compared to explaining the truth.
Time marched on and I eventually left for college.
But every so often I check in with my family asked, if the
cows were all accounted for, if the fences were intact, if
they'd heard any strange howls in the night, they'd brush it
off as me worrying too much, but they didn't know the whole
story. Part of me stayed convinced that
whatever I fought off that night is still out there licking its
wounds waiting. And the thought of going back to
that farm alone, still manages to send a sharp bolt of dread
through my gut every time. I knew this trip was going to be
different. The moment we rolled up to that,
campsite the place was massive. So big that before we arrived
nobody had fully mapped it out. Normally we do a thorough sweep
to Mark any hazards and figure out where mischievous kids might
wander. This time the size alone made
that impossible and it put me on edge.
The kids, of course, found it all thrilling.
They asked a million questions buzzing with that bright-eyed
energy. That only comes from fresh air
and the promise of running around unsupervised.
Well, mostly unsupervised We pitched our tents in a clearing
that looked reasonably safe at least by daylight.
The biggest worry I had at the time, was a random route or
whole, someone might trip over. Still something, not at me.
I'd catch glimpses of movement at the edge of my vision Shadows
dancing. Just beyond the tree line.
Once or twice, I turned to quickly expecting to see an
animal darting away. But nothing I told myself I was
just tired or maybe feeling jumpy about the unknown That
evening, We Gather the kids to explain our big tradition the
night game. Typical Camp, scarefest.
Each adult leader, Don some haphazard monster costume
positions themselves along a designated path. and leaps out
at unsuspecting 8, to 10 year olds, You know, the kind of
thing that always gets them shrieking, then giggling like
crazy, but as I handed out flash lights and set the ground rules,
like, absolutely don't, leave the trail unless you want to end
up lost for hours. I felt my nerves cranking up
another notch. I tried to hide it behind a
grin. I chose this open patch of
forest to do my part. it was ideal for breaking into a Sprint
whenever I spotted a group approaching barely any
underbrush or brambles, But with no bushes or rocks to hide
behind, I had to switch off my flashlight or risk.
Blowing my cover the darkness. There felt thicker somehow
almost suffocating. Several times.
I swore, I saw a figure my size slip between the trees.
Each time, I flicked on my light expecting to catch one of the
other leaders, pulling a fast one on me.
Not once, did I see a single soul, right?
When I was about ready to call it a night, I glimpsed someone
near a large trunk at first relief.
Rushed through me, finally, I had caught my prankster in the
ACT. I flipped on the beam to let
them know they were busted but what the light showed was all
wrong. Whoever stood there wore a
tattered, burlap sack stained dark and patches and how to
bunch of plastic bags wrapped around their head like a
makeshift Hood. The person's arms in legs were
kicked in dried mud. And there was this repeated
sound like a gentle knocking. It took me a second to realize
he was tapping his forehead into the tree trunk over and over.
I tried calling out. Maybe it was a messed up costume
or somebody fooling around, but he didn't answer.
He just paused that head, tapping and turned in my
direction. Taking a slow, deliberate step
toward me. Something told me.
This was no friend. My whole body launched into
action before my mind, fully processed what was happening.
I tore away from that clearing branches, snapping under my
shoes, leaves rustling as I barreled through like a runaway
train anytime I thought I was safe, I heard footfalls behind
me quick and heavy. I refused to look back.
I was convinced if I did I would run straight into a tree or fall
face first into the dirt. The only thought rattling around
in my head was get back to Camp, get to the others.
Get to the light. When I burst into the campfire
glow, the other leaders stared at me like I was out of my mind.
They were all accounted for masks off.
Sipping water. Looking as calm as ever.
I could barely Catch My Breath. No one else seemed winded let
alone coated in filth or wearing anything like that hideous
burlap get up. They tried reassuring me saying,
maybe I just spotted a trick of moonlight or a Wandering camper
from another group. As much as I wanted to believe
that. I knew I'd seen something.
It was enough to keep me up half the night ears, straining for
any sound that hinted. We weren't alone in that massive
stretch of forest The morning came way too early, I dragged
myself out of my sleeping bag, half expecting to see the rest
of the group gossiping about my late night meltdown, but most of
them were already busy. Corralling the kids for
breakfast, nobody was pointing fingers or making jokes.
Yes, Still, I couldn't just brush off what happened?
Maybe there was a dangerous stranger out there.
A lost hiker who needed help or something worse.
I cornered one of the other leaders, a friend who'd known me
long enough to trust. I wasn't making up tall tales I
laid it all out the Ragged burlap the plastic around the
head, the Frantic Chase through the trees.
Her eyes got bigger with every detail and I could see a flicker
of worried. Her usual calm.
We decided to sneak off after the kids were occupied with arts
and crafts. No sense in alerting them or
risking a full-blown panic. Walking back into the woods felt
like stepping into a different world.
In daylight, the place looked calmer, but I still couldn't
shake the tension winding itself around my nerves.
Every snapped twig made me jerk my head around every brush of a
branch against my sleeve had me bracing to run again.
My friend tried to keep conversation light talking about
mundane stuff just to fill the silence.
But my focus was on that clearing the exact spot where I
had seen him. When we finally found the tree,
I recognized it by a jagged chunk of bark near the base.
A detail I'd noticed only because I briefly shown my
flashlight there, the night before.
There were not obvious Footprints or signs of a
struggle, which was odd considering all the thrashing
around. I done.
For a second. I worry, I dragged my friend out
here for nothing letting my own nerves, spin a wild story.
But then we spotted it a rabbit nailed to the trunk skin and
rotting in the heat. The stench was Indescribable
some foul mix of Decay and dried blood.
My friend recoiled. Swearing softly under her
breath. I felt like my insides Twisted
into a knot. Anyone who do something like
that. Wasn't just a prankster with a
sixth sense of humor. They were straight up
disturbing. We called the police using the
Camp's ancient Radio phone which crackled so badly.
I had to repeat myself three times.
Eventually two officers rolled up neither looking thrilled
about trudging Into the Woods. We showed them the gruesome
scene half expecting them to share our alarm instead they
Shrugged and suggested. It might be some teenagers from
a nearby town or rival, scouting group playing a gross joke.
They took a couple of photos wrote A Few notes and promised
to look into it. For the rest of the day.
I couldn't focus on anything else.
I helped the kids make nature collages and watched them run
relay races. Always keeping an ear out for
odd. Sounds beyond the tree line.
Every rustle of branches had me on edge, imagining burlap and
plastic lurking just out of sight.
The other leaders noticed my jumpiness but didn't press.
Maybe they sensed how seriously rattled I was.
No more sightings came. No, screeching from a stranger
in the woods. No Footprints leading into our
camp. Part of me, felt relief but
another part grew more uneasy wondering where that person
went. And if they resurface when we
least expected it, That final night.
None of us slept well though we did our best to pretend we were
just excited to go home. As we packed the Vans, the next
morning, the kids were all smiles talking about their
favorite memories, s'mores night games bunking together under a
star-studded sky. I plastered on a grin offering
encouraging nods, every time they asked if we'd be back soon,
but in the back of my mind, the image of that skin rabbit in the
person wrapped in plastic, lingard, it was like a warning
etched into my thoughts. some places hide things in their
deepest Corners that no one should ever stumble upon Even
when we finally drove away, I couldn't relax every bump in the
road echoed with the possibility of something sinister.
We left the forest behind but I had this gnawing certainty that
whatever lurked there wasn't done.
Roaming its territory. And I promised myself that if I
ever found out what or who it was, I would be a whole lot more
prepared next time. Hi there.
I'm Samantha. Sam and I was a park ranger for
six years. I won't specify where because I
don't want to get in trouble. One of the people I worked with
told me to read the other park ranger stories on here.
So I thought I'd give it a shot and hell.
It's good to see someone being honest, it inspired me to share
some of my own stories. People need to know what happens
in the woods. I quit my job a couple of years
ago, I couldn't deal with bottling up all the things I've
seen nobody wants to talk about them, but I feel like I'm
drowning in the memories of it all so I'm going to share them.
I don't know if I'll be able to share everything, it might be
too hard but I'll give it a go. I hope this raises some
awareness of the true dangers of the woods and makes people
consider their safety. I don't want people to think.
I'm copying someone or making these things up.
I'm just sharing my stories and experiences, let's get into it.
This was my first weird experience as a junior Ranger.
To this day. I still don't know what I saw,
but I know it wasn't friendly. I had just received a call about
screams coming from deeper in the forest off, one of the more
popular trails. This wasn't unusual.
If you've heard a mountain lion, you know, it can sound like a
woman screaming. Just as I was about to set off
my chief at the time, asked to come along.
I found this odd because the job seemed too insignificant for his
rank, but I brushed It Off. I was new and figured, maybe he
wanted to check my progress. we set off making small talk and I
was obviously trying to suck up a little We were joking around
when he made a quick remark about taking even small jobs,
seriously because you never know what you'll find.
That turned out to be some of the most valuable advice I ever
got on this job and I definitely learned my lesson later, but
that's another story. We reach the area where the call
originated and headed north of the trail.
We heard the screams and it sounded like a mountain lion but
something was really off about it.
We kept walking toward the noise About 10 minutes in all of a
sudden, it was like every sound was sucked out of the woods.
It was dead silent. I couldn't even hear my own
breathing. I thought maybe I'd gone deaf
but I looked at my chief and saw he had the same nervous
expression on his face. By the way, he was acting.
It felt like he'd encountered this before, which I now know to
be true. Just as quickly as the silence
came, I started to hear a low buzzing but it wasn't just a
buzzing. I could feel it vibrating
through my entire body so much that my ears and jaw began to
hurt. The best way I can describe it
is like when you're getting your teeth drilled at the dentist.
But worse. Even my vision started to
vibrate and as that happened, I swear, I saw a black figure
about seven feet tall step out from behind the trees in front
of me. It started letting out that same
scream as it bent down and began crawling toward us, naturally, I
freaked the hell out and stepped back to run.
My chief grabbed my arm hard, almost knocking me over and put
his other arm around me as he began to walk me out of the
forest. Just as I was about to fight him
and yell for us to run, he said in a calm voice.
Don't run. Don't talk.
Don't look back, just keep walking.
I did exactly what he said. He obviously knew something I
didn't. And as much as I wanted to run,
I didn't want to find out what would happen if I did.
Those 10 minutes were excruciatingly.
I could tell it was crawling behind us by the buzzing in my
head and the faint wailing sound, it made, I wanted to run
so badly. Eventually, I think it ran off
because all the regular noise of the forest came back and the
buzzing stopped. When we got back on the trail.
I was shaking. I was in such shock.
I couldn't even cry. He let go of me and started
walking back to the main base without saying a word about what
happened. I started screaming at him.
Asking what the hell that thing was.
He said and yes I remember this word for word.
There are things in these Woods that have been here longer than
us things. We can't explain or get rid of
if you don't think you can handle that, you should pack
your bags now. He kept walking and I followed
behind trying to make sense of what happened.
I obviously stated in the job. When it was good, it was really
good. I met some amazing people and I
love nature but in the end the bad experience is outweighed,
the good and I had to leave Honestly, I wish I had left when
he told me to pack my bags. I know this experience doesn't
sound that scary and righting, but trust me living through it
was terrifying and there are worse ones, some of them are
scary, some are more explainable, I'm still debating,
whether to share all my stories, maybe I'll see how I feel after
posting this. I'd love to hear other people's
experiences with the woods. Part 2, A lot of people seem to
be interested in stairs found in the woods.
I've seen a set of stairs in the woods once and personally, it
wasn't too scary, just a bit creepy.
I know a couple of my friends in the force, a force to be
reckoned with have some stories about stairs that they've
mentioned in passing. If and when I decide to contact
them for permission, maybe I'll post those.
I do however have a story about a ladder that I wish I could
forget because just thinking about, it gives me the creeps.
My experience with the stairs is pretty tame, so I'll add another
incident afterward. We were searching for a young
girl who had wandered off, we found her, she is fine.
The team was stretched out pretty far, so I was walking
alone, but within shouting distance of others. as I was
walking, I saw a set of stairs, they sort of looked like they
belonged there, but also didn't They were overgrown, like they
might have been the steps to someone's house.
But I realized there was no way someone had put them there.
Recently, I figured I'd stumbled upon one of those mysterious
stairs. My co-workers had talked about I
thought I'd be terrified if I ever saw them, but I wasn't.
I did however feel an urge to walk up them like something was
pulling me toward them, maybe it was just the excitement of
finally seeing them or maybe something darker.
Someone nearby called out that they'd found something and it
snapped me back to reality. I'm really glad they did.
I'm not sure what would have happened.
If I'd gone up, we found the girl and all was well.
On the way back, I mentioned to a partner that I had seen some
stairs. She got worried and sort of
grilled me about whether I touched or walked up them.
I said no. And that was it.
So yeah, pretty tame. Nothing too intense.
I'm not going to lie or over emphasize anything here.
This next occurrence isn't about stairs, but it is about a
ladder, which I'd say is pretty similar. this happens, sometimes
during my first year, as a park ranger around the start of
summer, when poison, ivy really goes wild, We had to do weekly
checks on the trails and the surrounding brush.
My partner and I were assigned to check some of the less
popular trails. We came to a smaller trail that
forked for a couple of minutes and then joined up again.
Being the idiots. We were we split planning to
meet where it connects. We could still see each other
through the brush in the middle so we thought it was fine.
He took the left path and I took the right.
As I was walking, keeping an eye out for Ivy, I caught something
in the corner of my eye, a large clearing in the middle of the
trees. It looked man-made perfectly
round. As if someone had been
maintaining, it there wasn't a single tree Bush or even a weed.
I was so focused on the lack of vegetation that I almost didn't
notice the huge unmistakable ladder standing, right in the
center, it was upright and leaning against absolutely
nothing. Like some unknown force was
holding it. I looked up and saw a man at the
top, wearing a business suit. It almost seemed comical like
he'd walk straight out of a corporate office.
His head was tilted back staring up at the sky and his mouth was
wide open. I couldn't get a clear view so I
called to him a few times, no response.
I circled the ladder looking for wires or strings.
Hoping it was some sort of prank or art installation but I found
nothing. He looked like he was on display
for some bizarre exhibition. I didn't know what else to do
and I couldn't see my partner so I radioed him to come over.
While waiting I made the stupid decision to touch the ladder.
I know terrible idea. Don't touch weird crap.
You find in the woods. I got a weird feeling just
before my hand reached it, but I brushed it off and touched it
anyway. The moment I did the man at the
top snapped his neck in this horrifically.
Contorted way to look at me and let out an ungodly gasp like he
was drawing his last breath. His face was still warped in
this gaping expression. Eyelids and lips pulled back as
though he were In Perpetual shock.
I stumbled back and grabbed my Taser.
Just then, I heard someone behind me and I spun around
taser raised, it was my partner hands in the air to avoid
getting tased. When I looked back the latter
was flat on the ground and the man was gone.
My partner asked what was going on.
So, I explained and begged him not to think I was crazy.
Of course, he didn't, he was well, as I did, that weird stuff
like this happens more often than you think we had to do a
quick search for the guy protocol, which I hated I was
praying. We wouldn't find him.
We didn't, I never saw anything like that again and neither has
anyone. I've talked to That guy was
balancing on top of a ladder that wasn't leaning against
anything. Maybe I met Houdini when you see
stuff like that, you make jokes, or you'll never move on.
I'm really glad people are enjoying what I have to say.
I'm not sure when I'll write more, don't expect too much,
because this is both tiring and cathartic.
I'm thinking of sharing some of the less spooky stories in the
ones that are just about humans being weird.
We'll see. I should have known something
was off. When my supervisor called me in
for an urgent adjustment to my usual shift.
A bunch of people had recently bailed on the night schedule
without much of an explanation. So it landed in my lap.
At first, I wasn't exactly thrilled, but a small part of
me, was curious about what it'd be like to watch the park after
dark. I guess I figured it'd be hours
of quiet. Broken up by the occasional hoot
of an owl or flicker of a flash light.
So there I was hiking up the tower's endless steps with a
backpack, full of coffee energy drinks and whatever.
Courage I thought I had The night are tasted cool, almost
damp and my boots crunched on gravel in a way that echoed like
I wasn't the only one listening. By the time I made it to the
top, my legs felt like jelly but I forced myself to shrug it off.
The towers narrow, wooden platform, led me into a cramped
room with three walls of glass and a fourth wall, hosting a
door. There was a rickety bed, a tiny
kitchen corner with a mini fridge, and a microwave plus a
desk. Where the calm station, sat
blinking, I gave the radio a test.
Static popped and hissed, but Donnie's voice came through.
Eventually saying something about how I'd better make
friends with my flash light because the moon was barely out.
That bit of chatter steadied my nerves a bit like, okay.
At least I wasn't alone in the world.
I stepped onto the balcony to get a proper look at my
surroundings. Trees stretched in nearly every
direction. Their top swaying faintly, in
the breeze off to my right was the Lagoon, which looked more
like a giant puddle choked with algae, lily, pads, and random
debris. The water set way too still for
my comfort. Meanwhile, the usual night time
Orchestra kicked up frogs crickets leaves rustling.
It was almost soothing I leaned over the balcony, rail scanning,
the area with binoculars. At first, I spotted nothing
except a few moonlit clearings and shadows that I assumed were
just logs or rocks. But near one of The Ridges, I
caught a glimpse of something pale.
A shape that stood out against the dark. it looked suspiciously
like a person, maybe a kid, wearing a blanket with two big
circles where eyes might be A ghost costume.
In the middle of summer, on Federal Land with no one else
around. It threw me off so hard.
I nearly dropped the binoculars. I blinked steadying the lenses
again. This little ghost thing was
still staring straight at the tower.
Part of me, wanted to believe it was just some leftover prank but
my gut churned in protest. I pulled out my hand held radio
and called Donnie. Hey man, you and earshot.
There's I don't even know how to say this.
There's a kid dressed like a ghost on the ridge, right below
the big dip in the tree line. Donnie sounded as confused as I
was a ghost, you serious? As a heart attack, I muttered.
Could be some lost campers kid or maybe a runaway want to check
it out before it becomes our problem.
Side, but agreed. Fine.
I'll head that way. Keep your eyes on him and let me
know if they move. I caught a flicker of Donnie's
flashlight weaving through the dark beneath me.
He wasn't fast, but at least he was going in the right
direction. I stayed on the balcony,
sweeping the binoculars around glancing back at the ridge every
few seconds. The figure didn't move at all.
Like it was a statue with a bed sheet draped over it.
Then just as Donnie's light got closed, his flash light went
out. The beam vanished so abruptly
that I thought, maybe my eyes tricked me.
My radio, let out a burst of static and Donnie's voice cut
off, mid-sentence. In that exact same instant, the
forest dropped every sound at had not one chirp, not one.
Russell, the hush fell alive, like I had stepped into some
bubble of silence, my pulse hammered, in my ears and I
stumbled back into the tower. Practically yanking the door off
its hinges to close it. I tried calling Dorney again,
nothing but static. My flash lights, spotlighted,
the corners of the towers room and everything, looked normal,
but my nerves were lit up. I decided to go back outside,
maybe yelling into the darkness of a few times.
That was when I noticed a shape below next to the first flight
of steps. It looked like a woman but
impossibly tall and unnaturally thin with a soaked dress
clinging to her body. Her hair dangled in wet clumps
and she seemed to be bent at odd angles.
Like someone had tried putting a puzzle together.
The wrong way, she wasn't just dripping, she looked swollen
with water her skin, a sickly bluish color that glistened in
the Moonlight. She lifted her face eyes cloudy
like murky pond water. And her mouth stretched open far
too wide, a sound emerged, high pitched gurgling way too loud to
be human. My stomach flipped every cell in
my body demanded. I get the hell away from that
door. I jumped back inside locking the
knob as fast as I could, though a flimsy piece of metal didn't
feel like it had stopped anything.
The radio squawked uselessly from the desk providing 0
comfort. Stayed there pressed against the
wall trying to catch my breath. Shining my flashlight at the
door in case the woman decided to break it down.
I could still sense, her presence outside but I had no
idea if she'd left or if she was crawling her way up to the
balcony, the quiet returned in force making every second
stretch out. My hands trembled so hard that
holding onto the flashlight. Was a challenge.
And I kept thinking, if this is some weird joke, it's the
sickest one anyone's ever pulled.
But there was nothing funny in those eyes, or that sound
echoing in my head. Know that had felt horribly
real. I had a wild urge to bolt, but
stepping outside again, seemed suicidal.
All I could do was stand in the darkness alone with no clue,
where Donnie was or who, or what was waiting by the stairs.
I stood in front of that flimsy wooden door for what felt like
an eternity. Every nerve in my body Twisted
tight, the tower had gone. So deathly quiet that each
breath felt like a shout. My flash light beam wavered
lighting up, only empty corners and the reflection of my own
Terror in the glass. Panel's a tiny, rational part of
me insisted that I was safe inside but the rest of my brain,
kept painting images of that, drowned figure lunging through
the door. Those cloudy eyes rolling as she
shrieked. Eventually, I forced myself to
breathe deeper one. Step back two steps back until I
bumped into the kitchen counter. My hands slid, across it,
searching for anything solid. And I ended up clutching a long
steel knife. My legs were ready to collapse
under me, but I gripped, the knife like a Lifeline.
I tried the handheld walkie-talkie.
Again, pressing the button so hard, my thumb ached Donnie, I
hissed, answer me man, where are you?
Static a faint pop. Then another hiss nothing.
I swung around shining my flashlight behind me because I
felt like something was creeping closer.
Only to land on the big cabinet in the corner.
Something about it. Seemed different.
The door was open. I knew it was sealed tight when
I arrived which gave me a vicious jolt of dread Instinct
forced me to raise the knife as if expecting that watery
nightmare woman to burst out. My heart thundered like an
engine in my chest and out stepped a little ghost.
The same ragged sheet I'd seen on the ridge.
That was enough to make me want to scream, but then the figure
lifted it off. Revealing Marvin Donnie's.
Son sporting a grin so wide. You think he'd scored the prank
of the century? He also had a walkie in his
hand. The green LED winking mockingly
at me. I feel meet flush my face.
Marvin, what the hell? Before the kid could answer
another voice crackled over the main radio on the desk.
There he is. How do you do?
Marv, he freaked out recognizing Donnie's, voice.
I stomped across the room. And grabbed that radio?
You set me up? I yelled.
So Furious. My voice went ragged hiding your
kid in my tower dressing him like some cheap Little Ghost
Donnie, and a second voice had to be his other son.
Joey started howling with laughter apparently, they'd been
planning this for days. Snuck.
Marvin in here. Before my shift made a show of
him standing on the ridge, cut the power to Donnie's flash
light at the perfect moment. I'm sure they expected me to
lose it. Mission accomplished.
Relax Donnie cackled over the line.
It was just some harmless fun, man.
Thought, we'd welcome you to the graveyard shift and style more
Snickers in the background. How's your blood pressure?
I feel relief and anger, crashed together like thunderclouds in
my gut. You have no idea how close I was
to stab him. I stopped shorting Marvin.
He gave me a playful shrug like he hadn't.
Just watched me panic and genuine Terror.
I wanted to tear into Donnie. But there was still one problem,
overshadowing everything. What about that thing outside?
My words, choked in my throat. Some waterlogged woman or I
don't know what. You can't tell me that was part
of the plan, too. For a second the radio went
silent. Then Donnie let out a short
laugh. One that sounded less certain
Wait, slow down. You think I hired an extra for
your personal horror movie or something more Awkward Chuckles.
We only planned the ghost kid. That's it.
No. Ladies in sight.
His words hit me like a punch to the ribs.
Even if they'd orchestrated a bunch of details to fool me, the
shrieking creature, I'd seen was Way Beyond a backyard prank.
I couldn't shake the memory of that solo stretched skin.
I had the insane urge to fling. Open the tower door just to see
if she was still out there, but the possibility kept me rooted
in place. Marvin must have seen the alarm
still etched on my face because his grin faltered dad.
He said, softly into his own walkie.
What if someone else is out here?
The question hung in the air, heavy is lead.
After a moment, Donnie tried to keep it light.
Look, maybe you saw a deer or your eyes played tricks on you.
It's late and you're wound up will swing by.
Once we finish up sound good, I clicked off the radio without
answering my anger was draining replaced by an old deep fear
that stuck to my thoughts, like tar.
Part of me wanted to chase. Marvin out with a scolding but a
stronger part. Maybe the protective side,
wouldn't risk letting him leave alone.
Until this thing was explained or gone, I had zero trust in
that black stretch of forest. I pasted the tower double
checking windows and fiddling with the lock on the door.
It felt so thin, like a stiff, wind could knock it down.
Meanwhile, the night outside remained, two quiet for comfort.
Marvin looked just as jumpy as me now.
Hugging his arms close to his body like the joke wasn't so
funny anymore. Time crawled every so often.
I'd catch a glimpse of movement outside a branch shifting or a
swirl of mist over the Lagoon. But I never saw that gaunt
figure. Again, it was almost worse, not
knowing, if it was still lurking beneath the tower.
At one point, a faint Screech echoed from somewhere in the
woods. And I nearly tripped over my own
feet spinning around, to face the door.
Marvin squeaked, then tried to laugh it off, but his eyes were
wide by the time. The first streaks of dawn
arrived. I felt shredded.
My chest was tight. My muscles stiff from clenching.
Donnie came through on the walkie once more to say
something about making the rounds, but I barely registered
it. All I could think, was that if I
had to do another shift here, locked in this Fishbowl.
I'd lose my mind. Jokes were one thing, but that
woman's milky gaze was not something you fake with store
bought makeup, I couldn't explain it and Donnie, wouldn't
listen. That left me with one real
choice. All right, Marvin time to go.
I said, quietly and escorted him down the tower, steps in the
fragile, early light. The two of us jumped at every
rustle or bump. I was armed with that kitchen
knife, feeling ridiculous, but unable to relax.
The Lagoon looked almost peaceful in daylight, but I was
too on edge to appreciate it. By the end of that endless
descent. My mind was made up.
The moment I got the chance. I didn't inform the higher ups I
wasn't staying on nights, not another hour.
Let them call me paranoid. Whatever I had seen out there.
It wasn't just a trick of the dark.
Something in those woods had noticed me and I had no
intention of sticking around for round two.
Marvin and I trudged toward the ranger station, the first rays
of Sun hitting the trees in a washed-out glow.
Part of me expected to see that soggy figure trailing behind us.
But every time I looked over my shoulder, it was only empty
space. Maybe that was even scarier it
meant, it could still be anywhere.
I'd always believed the night shift was nothing but quiet
hours. But nothing from this point,
forward would ever feel normal again.
When I glanced back at the tower, all I saw was a lonely
shape against the morning sky and the silent unmoving Lagoon.
But I remembered that scream. I remembered the hush that
followed it too. And I wondered if maybe it was
the woods themselves sending a warning, some things aren't
meant to be watched after dark. At least not by anyone who wants
to make it home, sane. I knew the night was off to a
strange start. The minute I checked in the
ranger station, which normally felt like a second home to me
seems smaller and lonely than usual.
Even the warm glow from the overhead lights, couldn't chase
away, the Gloom pouring in from the windows.
I stepped inside figuring I'd see Pat Marcus and Dana gathered
around the battered table in the corner trading jokes.
While we waited out another quiet shift instead, I found
them pacing around each one, fiddling with equipment or
re-checking logs, it was my turn to do a final walk-through
outside. Usually, I enjoy strolling
around under the Moonlight scoping out the tree line for
raccoons or wandering deer. To night, the moon was hidden
behind roiling clouds and the path beyond the station was
Pitch Black. The wind whipped across the
roof, making the beams grown I have wondered if the entire
structure would Shake itself apart.
After a few minutes of testing the locks and listening for
anything unusual. I stepped back inside my jacket
dripping with cold due Pat gave me this.
Look that said all good out there. and I nodded but I didn't
really feel certain before I could settle at the desk, Dana
spoke up she's usually the Practical one never letting
gossip or superstitions rattle her, but her expression was
guarded She asked if we'd ever heard rumors about the Phantom
of Hollow Grove Marcus LED out a nervous laugh but Pat's face
turned serious. Dana explained how this old
local Legend had been passed around since before any of us
were hired a name tied to unexplained vanishings
especially when the moon was at its fullest.
She didn't sound like she was spinning.
A Campfire Story. Her voice was calm, too.
Calm like she was remembering something unsettling.
The station lights flicker just then.
It might have been a hiccup in the power, but it made every
single nerve in me. Go on alert, even the fireplace
which usually made the room cozy seemed to cast weird shadows
across the walls. Pat venture to the window and
peered out. The glass was flaked with
condensation. Making it tough to see anything
but vague outlines of trees shifting in the wind Marcus.
Normally the easy-going one was already double checking the
radio as if he expected to need backup at any second, I felt
this nagging urge to go out again to scan the perimeter and
be absolutely sure we were alone.
Yet the idea of venturing passed the door, gave me pause.
I remembered all the times. I teased guests about being
nervous in the dark and suddenly I wondered, if I'd been a fool
to brush off with the woods might conceal, Something about
the night, put a knot in my chest.
I kept seeing movement in the corners of my eyes just enough
to unsettle me. Every time I turned, there was
nothing, but old walls, and Dusty corners.
Dana cleared, her throat and said, we should try to keep it
together that sometimes these shifts set our imaginations on
Overdrive. Tip talking about how the
stories of Hollow Grove were not just for spooking tourists.
There was a grain of Truth in them enough to make even
Skeptics look over their shoulders now.
And then I wanted to brush it off, but I couldn't.
Not with the wind howling outside.
Like it had a purpose, not with the odd quiet in the station.
Even though the four of us were there, And definitely not with
the sense that something or someone was beyond our beam of
light standing, just out of sight, waiting.
We didn't speak for a while. After that, we just sat there
each lost in our own thoughts, half expecting a knock on the
door or a flicker of movement in the dark.
When we finally did say anything, it was barely above a
whisper, as if we were afraid of, who else might be listening?
Dana had a far away. Look that practically begged us
to lean in. I could see.
She wasn't sure if she really wanted to rehash, whatever was
sitting on her mind but she let out a shaky sigh and began.
Couple years back. She said quietly.
I was finishing up a shift here. The weather had been horrible
for days. Relentless rain, all the trails
basically. Sludge nobody was bothering to
visit which meant I had to keep an eye out by myself.
That night, I was still new enough to think.
Every single bump outside could be a stray animal, except the
sounds. I heard were from an animal.
She paused gazing at the table. None of us moved even Pat who
usually tries to crack a joke and Brake tension.
Just watched her in silence. Dana went on about how she'd
spent the whole evening hauling Fallen.
Branches off the paths. When the sunset she ducked
inside thinking? She'd wait out the storm and
call it a night. The wind was raging so hard, the
station Windows rattled every few seconds.
Finally, her stomach growled. So she ordered from the nearest
diner Old Henry, a delivery guy everyone in town knew pulled up
half an hour later. She stepped out onto the porch,
to grab her food. I remember how dark it felt.
She said, rubbing her hands together, like she could still
feel the chill. There was this dampness that
wouldn't let go the diners headlights cut across the
station's walls. But everything else was
swallowed by black sky. She tried to keep it casual
chatting, with Henry, about the rain, how he managed to drive in
such miserable conditions. But he kept glancing over her
shoulder. Finally, he blurted that
somebody was standing among the Twisted Oaks near the fence.
Dana saw nothing. At first just the silhouette of
trees shifting in the Wind. Then she made out of shape.
Thin ragged like, it was half crouched behind a trunk.
That's when they both heard something like a hushed voice,
telling them to go. It didn't feel like a threat,
Dana admitted, tapping her fingers on the table.
It was more like someone warning us, but I couldn't begin to
guess who or what was trying to help.
She said the fear ramped up quick.
She and Henry jumped into his car without saying a word, not
caring about anything. But getting down that mud slick
Road, the tires spun kicking up gravel and water and they raced
off. After a couple miles Henry
pulled over and they just sat there shaking from adrenaline.
Neither one could fully believe what they'd seen, Dana spent the
next minutes debating how to explain taking off mid-shift,
but it turned out, she didn't have to buy that time.
She said the Station security system had already caught a
group dressed in dark hooded coats, smashing the door in.
They roamed inside for about five minutes, rummaging around
with this Eerie call. They didn't steal a thing.
It was more like they were inspecting the place as if
searching for something. Then they walked out into the
storm, like, none of it mattered.
Leaving behind a few soaked Footprints and a lot of
unanswered questions. The cops called me in, Dana said
lowering her voice and all they could figure was a botched
robbery but who breaks down a door just to poke around, they
never left a single fingerprint. We all glanced around half
expecting to see those hooded figures lurking.
Right? Outside our Windows.
Dana's story was unnerving enough but she wasn't done.
She mentioned the little wooden bundle.
She discovered later lying in the corner.
Near the Supply Closet, a pile of Twigs bound with a strip of
ribbon. So tightly knotted that she had
to use a knife to cut it. No one in the department, could
explain it and eventually someone just tossed it in a box
to be forgotten. That was the same day, the break
in happened. She said So call me paranoid if
you want. But I've spent every day since
wondering why those people came in and who they really were.
Maybe it has something to do with all the old stories about
this place or maybe we just got on Lucky, but either way, I
still can't shake the feeling it's not over.
She finished talking and the little hum of our electrical
devices was the only noise left. I was imagining Henry's
headlights reflecting on a figure half-hidden by trunk and
Branch waving them away like it was granting Mercy.
Dana blinked a few times as if waking from a bad dream.
And that's when I realized her story had changed the air in the
room, we weren't just Rangers killing time on another routine
shift. We were four uneasy souls
perched in a remote station with something out there in the
darkness. A presence that might help us or
harm us. And we had no way of knowing
which We all fell silent after Dana finished.
Her story. Like we were waiting for the
Shadows outside to respond. Pat broke the tension first,
clearing his throat and suggesting a perimeter check.
It should have been routine but every step felt heavy.
I volunteered to team up with Dana while Pat and Marcus swept.
The back outside. The air was colder than before
the stations, floodlight didn't reach far.
So most of the yard was barely visible.
I noticed how the wind had died down.
It made every noise Echo, like the forest was an empty stage
waiting. For an actor to appear.
Dana and I started circling around the side.
Flash lights bouncing off Twisted branches and Soggy
undergrowth. I tried to calm my breathing
telling myself. We were just being thorough.
Yet, it felt like we were trespassing on something's
territory. A few yards from the storage
shed are beams. Picked up Footprints Barefoot
pressed into the mud. They veered in a weird
Meandering path toward the tree line.
I glanced at Dana, who, knelt and prodded one of the prints
with her fingers. They were fresh enough to still
glisten with moisture. Goosebumps prickled along my
arms. Nobody sane would walk around
Barefoot at this hour. Suddenly a branch snapped in the
distance louder than it should have been my flashlight, swung
toward the tree line, finding nothing but dark shapes.
Then I spotted a tiny wooden figure perched on a fallen log
accrued. Stick person tied with a thread,
the color of dried blood. For a moment, I could have sworn
it tilted, its head at me. I knew that was impossible, but
it felt real. Dana approached.
Slowly her steps careful. She reached out and lifted the
figure. Up close.
It was damp and smelled faintly of rotting leaves.
Some kind of totem or warning. We heard murmurs then hushed,
voices carrying through the hush of the night.
I flicked off my flash light signaling Dana to do the same.
Through the Gloom, we made out movement Silhouettes.
Shifting among the trees, maybe four or five.
They moved in a rhythmic way as if following a practice
formation. No flash, light lights, no
phone's just bodies and shadows. We crouched our hearts pounding
thoughts racing about what we do, if they headed our way Pat
and Marcus stumbled upon us, nearly causing me to jump.
Marcus mouthed, we saw them too, pointing toward another patch of
Darkness. We decided in silent agreement
to back up to the station. As we retreated, I kept looking
over my shoulder convinced, we were being watched but I caught
only faint outlines flickering through the trees.
Inside. We locked the doors.
Drew, the blinds and shoved. A heavy table against the main
entrance. The logs in the fireplace.
Popped scattering Embers in a sudden burst usually that sound
is comforting but this time, it felt more like a warning shot,
no one sat. We hovered near the windows.
Peaking out through narrow gaps in the blinds.
The station smelled of damp clothes, and fear, if fear can
have a smell. Pat wanted to call for backup,
but Dana hesitated. What if they're gone by the
time, anyone arrives will look paranoid.
She had a point. I remembered the story.
She told us the unanswered questions Left Behind after the
hooded group trashed the station.
If they were the same ones prowling outside, they'd likely
vanish, as soon as they heard sirens.
Time dragged. The wind picked up again,
rattling, the siding, my eyes burned from staring out the
window, half expecting to see faces pressed against the glass.
The phone lines were spotty this far out.
If the lines went down, we'd be stranded without any
communication. Marcus joked about how we should
have transferred to a Beach post but the humor fell flat.
We all knew we were in over our heads.
Hours later the forest remained silent like it was holding its
breath for something worse. We agreed to wait for first
light before making any bold moves.
Whatever lurked outside, it felt like it was waiting too.
The four of us ended up around the fireplace jumpy at every
twig, snap, or gust of wind. Nobody wanted to say it out
loud, but we all know the night wasn't done, testing us as the
clock inched closer to Dawn, we heard the faintest scrape
against the back wall, like someone running a blade or a
rock along the wood. I stood flashlight, trembling in
my hand, but the noise stopped. No footsteps, no break-in but
they'd reminded us. They were out there.
We realized morning might not bring any safety at all, but for
now it was the only hope we had. We took turns peering Through
the Windows watching for shapes among the trees each minute
feeling like an hour. There was a shared unspoken
sense that whatever happened to night, was just the prelude.
And as we huddled by the sputtering fire none of us felt
particularly eager to see what came next.
I made my decision Before Sunrise.
We all did. By the time, the gray light
started filtering through the station's Grime.
Smeared Windows. Our nerves were shredded every
noise from the night before still seemed to Echo.
In the back of my mind, the shifting silhouette's, those
footprints in the mud that faint scrape against the wall.
None of us had slept, we were running on pure adrenaline, and
Dread, Pat asked if anyone wanted breakfast trying to mask
the tension with a sliver of normalcy, but no one had much
appetite. Marcus simply shook his head
staring at the barrier. We'd set against the door.
Dana, who would always been our Rock looked like a stranger.
Her eyes were Dark Hollow circles.
She forced a small smile but didn't say anything.
I realized we'd each reached the end of our tether, we peeled
back the blinds to watch the first rays of mourning, cut
through the forest, turning the nearest Treetops into a dull
silhouette. Though, the Knight had receded,
it hadn't taken that malevolent feeling with it.
I still sensed, we were being watched maybe from the Shadows
maybe from Beyond The Battered fence line.
That unshakeable dread was enough to convince me.
I couldn't keep doing this Marcus packed his gear in a
frantic clumsy way almost as if he thought we needed to evacuate
immediately. I couldn't blame him.
I grabbed my backpack, stuffing it with whatever personal items,
I could find, spare clothes, an old mug, a few dog-eared field
guides. None of us spoke more than a few
words but there was a shared understanding we were done for
good. It was like the forest itself.
Had finally broken. Our last bit of resolve Pat,
tore down the makeshift barricade tossing, the table
aside with a grunt. I am not sticking around, he
mumbled blinking away the fatigue that clung to all of us.
I'll do the paperwork, whatever it takes, but I'm not coming
back here. Dana States silent but her eyes
darted around the station. One final time, almost as if she
was memorizing, every crack and Splinter.
I could only imagine what she was feeling given her past
run-ins with whatever lurked out there.
Then she swallowed hard and whispered, let's go.
We stepped outside. The morning are chilling.
Our lungs instead of the usual, Dawn, Chorus of birds.
There was near complete silence. It was as if the entire Forest
held its breath waiting to see if we'd actually leave A low
Haze lingered around the tree roots and the wind through damp
leaves that creeping unease. Wouldn't let up.
I felt like I was drilling holes in the back of my head at the
trucks we didn't even try to pretend we'd come back.
Normally, there'd be Talk of the next shift or a reminder to lock
up carefully. This time, we just piled in
turned keys and drove away. No glances in the rear view
mirror. We knew what we were leaving
behind. It wasn't just the station, it
was the memory of that horrific night, the footprints in the
mud, the indecipherable, murmurs among the trees, and the strange
totems that hinted. We were in over our heads.
As we hit the main road, I felt a glimmer of relief mixed with
guilt. Part of me, worried about the
next person, who'd fill our roles, but I knew I couldn't
stay there. The forest had become too loaded
with shadows and unanswered questions.
We pulled up to the central Ranger Office later that
morning. The woman at the front desk
looks startled, as we handed over our resignations in near
unison. Pat's words, tumbled out shaky,
but resolute. We're done.
No more nights out there. No more of whatever's in those
woods. Nobody asked a single follow-up
question. Maybe they'd heard rumors.
Maybe they saw our pale faces and realized we'd seen enough.
All I know is We Gather our belongings from our lockers
without a glance back. I heard Dana quietly, mutter
that. If anyone tried to make her go
back, she drive three states away before she set foot in
another Forest. Marcus just nodded and patted
her shoulder. We left that day each in our own
car driving away from the ranger service and the job.
We'd once loved Even though I was relieved, there was a tiny
voice in my head. Warning, me those woods,
wouldn't forget us. Sometimes when I'm alone in
thinking too much, I picture the bare Footprints and these hooded
shapes slipping back. Beneath the branches.
There's a sense of finality to it but also a lingering
question, mark, did we escaped or just postpone the inevitable?
Either way, I've got no intention of going back to find
out and if anyone were to ask, I'd tell them the same thing.
Some places aren't meant to be understood or Concord.
Some forests can keep their secrets and I'll keep my
distance forever. I could sense.
The isolation, the instant, our tires left, the main road and
hit that patchy, excuse for gravel.
Every bump felt magnified, like even the dirt wanted us to turn
back. My boyfriend who all called
Dylan tried to act like all this was part of the adventure, but I
caught him glancing, in the rearview mirror more than once,
scanning the empty, stretch behind us.
We'd heard about this primitive camping spot from a friend of a
friend, a place. So remote.
You'd swear you were on another planet.
No designated sights, no cell service, no company other than
the occasional deer wandering passed.
We thought it'd be just the Escape we needed.
As the road got narrower in the trees pressed in I began to
wonder if we were going too far off grid after.
What felt like an hour of Muddy twists and turns we noticed a
truck pulled off by the side. It's Hood was popped but there
was no sign of obvious trouble. No steam.
No, frantic waving A woman leaned against the driver's
door, not trying to flag us down or anything.
She just stood there. We slowed a little automatically
ready to help but Dylan grip, the wheel, and shook his head,
his gaze locked on her. The way she stared made me feel
like she'd been expecting us specifically, like, we were
already part of some plan she had in mind.
I tried to get a better look at her face but Dylan pressed the
gas and suddenly she was just a figure in the rearview mirror.
I caught myself checking the side mirror.
Half expecting her to jump in her truck.
And follow that didn't happen or at least not right.
Then we headed on, but the air inside our car felt heavy Dillon
said it was nothing but I knew better.
It took us another 10 or 15 minutes to find a place to pull
off. The spot wasn't ideal mud clung
to our boots and we had to stop around a bit to find a decent
patch for the tent still. It was level enough and we
figured we'd be left alone. That was the whole point, right?
We set up a small fire, both of us, trying to shake off, our
uneasy start. I cracked a couple jokes about
wanting s'mores hoping that normal conversation might make
everything feel safer. Than a car crawled by a rusty
old sedan with a driver who slowed to stare at us.
I tried not to dwell on it, maybe he was just curious.
But when the same car came back a second time, lingering, even
longer my pulse. Pounded.
Dylan muttered something about folks trying to find dry land in
this swampy. Mess I nodded but secretly I
wasn't buying it. He circled back again.
This time I locked eyes with him for a Split Second.
He didn't smile or wave just kept his gaze.
Fixed on us before he drove off. Dylan and I shared a look.
Neither of us voice. What?
We were thinking, maybe we should leave But the idea of
hauling all our stuff through slippery mud only to have him
follow our tracks, made that plan seemed pointless.
Arrived. Bringing the kind of Silence,
that feels unnatural. Are tiny fire crackled in the
clearing but the dark pressed in from every side.
We ate our hot dogs, intense silence checking the road every
few minutes, waiting to see headlights, Creepin by.
When nothing else happened, we tried to call it a night.
The moment we zipped ourselves into the 10th, though, every
Russell, every snap from the fires dying Embers felt ominous.
I tried to calm my racing thoughts, reminding myself that
weird encounters happen, sometimes, especially far from
civilization Dylan seem tense, too tossing and turning.
But we both tried to act like we were fine.
Neither of us. Wanted to be the one to say,
let's pack up right now. Not when we'd invested so much
energy, just getting there. The last thing I remember before
drifting off was wishing. The night would pass quickly,
but the deep down I sensed things were about to get a whole
lot worse. Night settled around us in a
suffocating. Hush.
I remember lying there. Counting the seconds between the
crackling Embers of our dying fire and the distant Russell of
undergrowth. Dylan's breathing was shallow.
I could tell he was as on edge as I was though neither of us.
Admitted it sometime passed. Midnight.
Must have been closer to 3 a.m. an awful noise tour through the
silence. It was this warped combination
of metal scraping across gravel and a machine trying to start
up. It came in bursts each one
echoing through the trees. My chest tightened as I strain
to figure out how close it was. Dylan quietly, unzipped the tent
window, just enough to appear out the Moonlight painted, the
clearing and pale light. But everything looked still The
sound must have been Bouncing Around The Hills or maybe it was
closer than I realized my mind was racing with questions.
I didn't dare say out loud, I heard Dylan whisper that it
could be far away but his voice wavered, it didn't sound like he
believed that himself. I kept imagining shape's moving
at the edge of the clearing people lurking just out of
sight. Usually I'd rationalize it all
away, tell myself, it was a weirdo, an animal anything but
there was nothing familiar about that.
Metallic grinding a few minutes later, Dylan sat up and started
rummaging through our gear my pulse hammered as he pulled out
the machete, we'd packed It was still wrapped in that plastic
packaging because we never intended to use it for more than
chopping brush. Seeing him carefully, remove it
in the middle of the night in total silence made me.
Realize we were past the point of hoping this would all blow
over, he motioned for me to get dressed quickly.
No big speech. No debate.
We both knew we needed to leave. We moved as quietly as possible
unzipping, the tent and emerging into the cool night.
My senses were in overdrive. My eyes, jumped to, every
shifting Shadow my ears caught every Twitch in the undergrowth.
We started Gathering our gear. In the weak Moonlight, I almost
tripped over an empty. Can I hadn't noticed before?
I nudged Dylan, and he froze. We hadn't brought any beer so it
definitely wasn't ours. That realization sent a jolt of
panic through me. Someone had been here close
enough to leave trash by our Embers.
We didn't bother taking time for a detailed cleanup.
We crammed our sleeping bags. Into the trunk tossed, the tent
on top and locked ourselves in the car.
Dylan checked the gas gauge. He'd been worried that whoever
was out there might have siphoned our tank.
Thankfully, we still had enough to get out of there.
He fired up the engine and the headlights carved, two Stark
beams through the dark. Every tree seemed like a
potential hiding spot and every Bend in the muddy Road
threatened to reveal something, we weren't ready to face.
We kept our eyes peeled for movement as we burrowed through
puddles and Slick patches slipping a bit now and then, but
never stopping. Once we finally got onto a more
solid stretch of gravel, I let myself breathe a little Dylan
tried to make a joke. Something about how a hybrid
saved us from ending up in some horror movie.
But even the humor felt forced, we were both still wired
scanning the roadside as if the woman by the truck or that
circling car might appear around the next Bend.
When we reached a main road, we didn't say much.
Relief washed over us, but it was the kind that left a bitter
aftertaste. We'd wanted isolation and ended
up feeling Hunted. Neither of us, slept easily that
night and for the rest of the trip, we stuck to crowded
campgrounds or cheap motels with bright lights in the parking
lot. I couldn't believe how different
everything looked when morning finally came but that lingering
sense of unease stayed with me. in a single night, our idea of a
remote peaceful getaway had been ripped apart by something or
someone we never even got a good look at I pulled into the
campground, Just Before Sunset expecting the usual, a few quiet
families, roasting marshmallows. Maybe a couple of seasoned
hikers, turning in early. Instead I was greeted by the
clamor of loud, music, echoing off the tree line, the source.
A cluster of tents circled around a blazing fire, where a
group of Frat, Boys hollered and laughed.
Like they had the whole place to themselves.
Every so often other campers peaked out of their tents uneasy
and clearly wishing these guys would tone it down.
I couldn't blame them. Noise doesn't just shatter the
calm of a campsite it draws attention from things.
Best left undisturbed Out here, folks, whisper about the ghost
cats. Those local mountain lions that
are known to slip into camps without warning.
I'd seen enough tracks in eerily close proximity to sleeping
bags. To know these stories were more
than rumors. I parked my rig a little ways
off and walked over picking my path carefully around scattered
coolers and folding chairs. As I got close the Frat Boys,
pause their banter. Giving me that half a tenth of
look, they were mostly older teens or early, 20 somethings
still buzzing with alcohol and late night bravado.
Evening, I started trying to keep it friendly but firm.
I'm the ranger on duty, got some other campers worried, your
attracting unwanted attention. I motion toward the looming tree
line. These Woods have a reputation
and it's not for the best sing-alongs.
They laughed it off at first. So I leaned in lowering my
voice, I described how mountain lions sometimes stalk, the
perimeter of noisy camps, how you won't spot them until
they're practically brushing against your tent walls.
I explained how we call them ghost cats because of their
uncanny silence, the way they seem to appear out of nowhere.
They sobered up a bit a couple exchanged on certain glances,
but one just Shrugged muttering that they'd keep it down.
I issued a final warning. Anyway, stay quiet.
Don't wander off and if they hurt anything odd outside in the
dark, make no sound. I only hoped they'd actually
listen. Once I done all, I could I
headed back to the station. My buddy.
Jim was there flipping through some old Wildlife photos?
He raised an eyebrow when I told him about the Frat, Boys.
Let me guess blasting music ignoring, every rule we've got
right. He said clearly unimpressed.
Bingo, I replied and they're not taking the mountain lion threat.
Seriously. He let out a quiet laugh.
That contained 0 humor. We both knew this was more than
a minor annoyance. If something did happen.
We'd be the ones, hauling them out or dealing with an injured
cat that got too comfortable around humans.
That's when we started talking about a plan not to harm anyone,
obviously, but to Rattle them enough that they'd finally grasp
the gravity of a place like this, Jim reminded me about The
Old Lion pelt. In our interpretive Center, used
it once or twice for Educational Tours though.
It always gave me the creeps. Its glass eyes, caught the light
in this unnerving way, like it was still alive.
We also had night vision. Goggles stashed away.
Thanks to a budget Splurge before the new fiscal year.
Perfect for sneaking around in the dark, unseen by unsuspecting
campers. Over the next half hour, we
piece together a strategy. Fake Prince hidden growls and a
well-timed appearance of Alliance silhouette It might
just be the jolt they needed to pack up or at the very least,
dialed down the party volume. Grabbing the Pelt from a Dusty
storage closet. I noticed the faint musty smell
of fur, mixed with something almost medicinal I ran my hand
over the stiff, main shivering at how realistic it still felt.
Next, we tested the night vision goggles.
Even in the dim station lights, they turned everything into an
eerie green that made my pulse Spike.
By the time we had our gear ready, the sun had slipped below
the horizon. The woods outside, transformed
into a dark maze. I had this sense that the Frat
Boys, oblivious in their tents were about to discover that
being out here isn't just a Carefree getaway.
If they refused to respect the campgrounds, unspoken rules.
Well, we'd give them a night, they wouldn't forget.
Jim killed the overhead lights as we locked up.
We checked our plan one last time, and I took a breath
settling my nerves. We were about to sneak into that
campsite loaded with props and a fair share of wild imagination.
in the back of my mind, I thought about the actual ghost
cats prowling, these Hills I hope we wouldn't run into a real
one while pulling our prank. It's one thing to frighten a few
campers. It's another to come face to
face with the genuine article. Still, I felt this Rush of
adrenaline as we set off into the darkness.
Maybe it was the satisfaction of delivering a wake up call.
Or maybe it was just that strange hushed.
Energy you feel whenever you realize you're not at the top of
the food chain out here. Either way, there was no turning
back. We had our plan and we were
committed to seeing it through. The night was only getting
darker and the silent woods seemed to hold their breath
waiting for whatever came next. I hunched down in the cramped,
front seat of our Jeep double-checking that the lion
Pelt was still tucked out of sight.
Outside Moonlight drenched the forest and faint silver, and
every rustle of Wind Through the branches made me brace for
actual movement. I couldn't help scanning the
dark spaces between the trees searching for any flicker of
eyes that might belong to the real thing.
My co-worker Jim was fidgeting in the passenger seat, adjusting
the small PA system, we'd use for the recorded roars.
Ready? He asked voice low as I'll ever
be, I replied half hoping those frat kids were already asleep in
half itching to put our plan into action.
Either way, we needed to move quickly, the night sky was
starless and visibility would only get worse.
I ease the Jeep tours, their campsite headlights off to keep
our approach silent. Stopping a good distance away.
We slipped out and quietly shut the doors.
The path on our boots was damp from an early drizzle which made
our footfalls softer but also gave the soil, a perfect texture
for stamping fake tracks. One by one.
We planted oversized paw prints in the mud.
Making sure to press deeply near the tents.
Every so often we paused to listen worried someone inside
might stir and peek outside. But all we heard was the faint
crackle of a Dying fire. Next Jim propped.
The lion Pelt onto two sturdy sticks.
We duct tape together. Seen straight on.
It was eerily convincing, massive head, snarling mouth,
and the kind of glassy eyes that appear to stare into your soul.
I caught myself glancing over my shoulder half expecting an
actual animal to emerge drawn by The Uncanny shape.
With the pelts set up, we turned to the other part of our plan,
the roars. We'd preloaded the PA system
with a series of snarls and growls from real mountain lion
recording. Jim started them at a low volume
from a cross. The clearing.
The first noise rumbled through the darkness like a threat and I
could almost sense the campers tensing in their tents.
A second Roar followed echoing off the surrounding trees,
making it sound as if multiple Predators were encircling the
area. I slipped back into the Jeep and
carefully flicked on the headlights, aiming them.
So that they backlit the Pelt. From the angle of the beam.
It looked like a living breathing, cat, pacing along the
outskirts of the camp. Jim shouted from behind a bush.
Stay in your tents. Though his voice shook with just
enough Panic to convince anyone. He was facing a genuine attack.
She is moving around us, he hollered layering more drama
into the moment. Then he bellowed.
There's another one. The reaction inside those tents
was instant. I heard muffled cries frantic
rustling and the scrape of tent, zippers being yanked, shut
again. My own heartbeat thudded, as I
realized how convincing this whole thing probably looked and
sounded from their perspective. In the glare of the headlights.
The Pelt silhouette shifted as though, it was preparing to leap
at any second. I killed the lights in one
sudden, click. Darkness swallowed the campsite
Jim dropped the sticks and we rested the lion Pelt free.
In, under a minute, we tore back to the Jeep, adrenaline through
every vein. Once inside, I started the
engine and didn't hold back kicking up.
Gravel as we made our getaway. Over the rumble of our tires.
I thought I detected one final Roar playing through the PA
system, echoing behind us like a last warning when Don finally
broke the camps radio chatter, indicated that nobody had poked
their head out until well into the morning.
From our station windows. We could imagine their pale
faces and wide eyes discovering the huge paw prints scattered
around. Some alarmingly close to their
tent doors. We heard they packed up not long
after throwing nervous glances over their shoulders at the
looming Forest no doubt they were rattled to the core Gemini.
Swapped glances both relieved to hear.
They were safe but also satisfied we'd give them
something to think about. We'd wanted them to respect
these Woods, or at least remember that nature doesn't
tolerate fools. From what we heard later they
told everyone about the mountain lion attack, they'd barely
survived. Maybe next time.
They'd remember that out here. Silence can be the difference
between a peaceful night and something far more dangerous?