Okay, so I have no idea what we saw that night I've searched
everywhere for sightings or even myths around the area where we
saw it and I found nothing. If anyone has any idea what we
saw or if anyone else has seen it, please let me know my
husband and I think it could be a wendigo, but I'm not sure.
I haven't heard anyone else say they've seen anything like it in
Red River Gorge. I guess I want help figuring out
what we saw and what to do. After the night, I'm about to
describe, I think we've had a few close encounters with its
sins. My friends and I go camping a
lot and my favorite place is Red River.
Gorge Kentucky. We go there often and I've been
going ever since I was an infant.
I'm 28 now married with a kid and I still go.
It's the closest place to where I live where you can see the
Milky Way on almost every clear night.
It's perfect for stargazing and I see a shooting star nearly
every time I'm there. when we go without our kid will night hike
to a good Lookout Point and stargaze for hours, Our first
experience is night, hiking were on Trails, we knew well and that
were used frequently. During the day, ones with log
fences and gazebo resting places The most used trail is a Natural
Bridge State Park and leads up to the Natural Bridge.
It's around two miles uphill, depending on where you start.
I've done this Trail every summer of my life and could do
it blindfolded. It has wooden steps carved, Rock
steps, log handrails, and multiple sitting areas under a
roof plus trash cans. But after you reach the main
Trailhead, there are no lights at all.
While it is uphill, the difficulty level is low.
As long as you have good shoes and water, you'll be fine.
My friends have done it with me multiple times in our confident
with it too. Technically hiking this Trail at
night isn't allowed but I've never really cared about closing
times for the outdoors. When we use this main trail, to
hike, to the top, we would park in the lot.
Designated for the pool and hoedown Island.
You walk across the road, leading to the pool and you're
at the first Trail marker. You go up gravel for a while
past the Natural Bridge State Park Lodge, and there's a
waterfall and some lights. So it's best to walk quickly and
watch out for Rangers who might tell you to leave.
Then you cross another road and there's a small shelter or a
rock wall to rest on. That's where the trail to the
top really begins. The knights started off strange.
As soon as we began hiking, the clouds rolled in, and it looked
like stargazing might be a bust. We went anyway.
Hoping it would clear. By the time we got to the top,
At first, we were just dealing with the usual.
Paranoia, that comes with night hiking.
It kept us stressed and quiet. You know, you've reached the
bottom of the bridge, when you see a giant wall of lime stone,
at that time there was a gazebo to the right of this wall and
the trail continued alongside it, we had just come up a fairly
steep part of the trail. So the Gazebo was a welcome spot
to rest. My husband my best friend at the
time and I all sat on the Gazebo steps, the bench under the roof
was even darker, so we stayed on the steps facing down the trail,
that runs along the Limestone wall.
Each of us had a bright LED headlamp and a hand.
Held flash light. We didn't look at each other
much because the lights were so bright.
We sat in a line like the last supper and would walk in a line
or staggered to avoid blinding each other.
It was after hours by then. No ski lift rides had gone on
for hours and the Rangers had already done their final sweep
and left right before we got out of the car.
The ski lift takes you to the top.
But the workers there, do a head count and only leave after
everything is clear. I mentioning this because that's
what I was thinking about. When out of nowhere, a girl with
a headlamp started walking down, the trail in front of us.
She was wearing a sundress and flip-flops.
This hike is uphill and might be considered easy, but not in
flip-flops with no water. And at night, she would have had
to hike up and then back down alone without being seen by any
Ranger. her light was bright and when she reached the spot where
the trail curves from in front of the Gazebo, down to where we
came from, she stopped She stood there straight like an
anatomical drawing facing us. We had six LED lights aimed at
her face, but she didn't turn away or seem bothered at all.
I said, hello. she replied very slowly pausing between words,
something like Hello, how are you?
I said something like good how are you?
And she took even longer pauses before saying, oh, I'm fine.
Then she just stood there hands at her sides.
Staring her light was so bright. I had to Shield my eyes.
Then she turned and walked slowly down the trail.
We had just come up. She reached a Bend stayed there
for a minute and then the light vanished. we waited a while
before continuing I kept saying how weird that was, but everyone
else brushed it off as me being jumpy.
The fact remained though no one came after her.
She'd done this alone at night and wasn't caught by any Ranger.
We got up and started again to the top.
It felt like it took way longer than usual, but we eventually
made it. There are Stones steps called
fat man's squeeze that take you to the top of the bridge and you
can walk across it while up there.
We heard Twigs snapping almost alternating from left to right.
We lay down trying to stargaze, but the clouds had only gotten
thicker. It was miserably hot every so
often we heard voices and my husband kept checking, but he
never saw anyone. We saw a quick flash of light
with no person attached to it and we heard a bird call that
sounded more like a human imitating, a bird very rhythmic,
not natural. I was convinced we weren't alone
and hadn't been alone for a while but I'm the most easily
spooked of the group. I asked if we could leave and
the others immediately. Agreed, which scared me, because
it meant they were also afraid. We headed back down the way we
came, and it felt like it took forever.
We were moving quickly but it seemed like we weren't making
any progress. I even said this feels much
longer and they agreed. I kept shining my flashlight
behind me. My husband kept looking off to
the sides and my friend mostly pointed hers forward.
I felt like something was watching us.
I couldn't tell which footsteps were ours and which weren't if I
heard a noise, I shine my light that way, but never saw
anything. My husband said, he kept
catching eyes in his flash light.
It could have been a raccoon or something else, but he worried
it might be a bear or a big dog. he couldn't keep his light on
them long enough to identify whatever it was, Eventually we
were on a flatter section of the trail.
A log fence or handrail was on our right and we were walking in
a row close to it. suddenly, my husband stopped and said, what's
that in more of an alarmed tone I pointed my headlamp but didn't
see anything at first. Then my husband's lights, caught
a shape, and so did mine. And then my friends, all six
lights illuminated a light grey creature.
It was crouched kneeling on its right leg and began turning
toward us, it slowly stood up my mind was racing, it looked human
but was way too big skinny and Tall almost white but actually a
pale Gray. Its skin looked kind of like a
dolphins, a bit shiny reflecting our lights.
It Rose to its full height. Its head was long and its eyes
were set like a human's forward facing not on the side.
But I couldn't make out any other features.
Just Big Empty pits where I should be.
It looked right out of us and our lights.
The way it stood was intimidating, almost like a
snake rearing up to show its strength.
It had been crouching and then slowly faced us as if
challenging us, its arms hung low and its hands looked long,
possibly reaching near its knees.
I'd guess it stood around 9 feet tall, it had no hair at all, and
it's head was large. I couldn't process what I was
seeing and froze. Then I felt my husband hitting
my back yelling. Run run, run, run.
I realized we had to get out of there and I saw it pivot to the
right heading, back up the trail.
So it could circle around the barrier and get behind us.
We sprinted the rest of the way down knowing it was faster than
us and could catch up once it was past the fence.
None of us spoke. It felt like if we did, we'd get
caught, we just ran struggling with the Steep sections.
It never felt like we were out of its sight.
By the time we reached the first gravel part of the trail, we
heard something crashing through the forest to one side.
We ran until we got to our car, then drove off as fast as we
could. As soon as we hit the main road,
the sky was clear and the stars were visible.
When it looked at us, I knew it was smarter and faster than we
were. If we hadn't seen it first, it
could have easily taken one of us.
I think it only hesitated because all of us saw it at the
same time and we stayed together.
Once we got back to where we were staying, we each took out
our phones and wrote down, what we'd seen We didn't talk about
it until after we compared our notes and they all matched.
Without a doubt, we had all seen something real.
I pulled up to my parents old place just as the sun dipped
behind the orchard. The house looks smaller than I
remembered like time had pressed in on its walls, warping the
roof and giving the windows a tired stare.
A Crooked Fence half hid, what used to be my childhood?
Playground? The Tangled Grove of fruit
trees, that felt more like a wild forest.
On the drive over. I tried telling myself.
It was all kids stuff. The strange shape.
I used to imagine darting between the trunks, the nervous,
Rush In My Veins, whenever I stepped onto the property, but
creeping back onto this land, memories, came flooding in
whether I wanted them or not. I stood in the driveway bag in
hand, trying to keep my breathing steady, the orchard
was silent. No rustling leaves.
No distance. Snapping of Twigs.
Just a weird hush like the place was sizing me up.
I'd barely set foot inside when my sister Nicole nearly tackled
me with a hug. She got here before me which
made sense. She was always the early bird of
the family. She forced a smile, though.
Her eyes gave her away. She was on edge too.
Probably remembering those same, unexplainable things.
We never talked about once we moved away.
Mom offered to make us both tea, which was basically her polite
way of giving Nicole and me space to catch up privately.
The house smelled like old floorboards and dust stirring
that sense of being a kid again freaking out over every bump in
the night. Later when Mom and Dad turned in
early Nicole and I ended up in the living room, yellow light
from an antique lamp cast Long Shadows across the walls.
She asked me what I had seen so far.
I Shrugged and pretended. Everything was fine.
The orchard was the last thing I wanted to discuss but somehow we
circled right back to it. We both kept glancing out the
window half expecting something to lume near the fence.
Eventually we went up stairs to check out our old rooms, mine
felt Frozen in Time. Same fated posters same creaky
bed, same curtains, fluttering in the draft.
I dropped my suitcase on the floor and looked out the window
at the thick cluster of fruit trees.
Rain clouds had rolled in. So the orchard was just a dark
blur. Instinct told me not to stare
too long but I couldn't help it. My chest felt tight, like I
swallowed a stone. Something about that.
Place always set me on edge. When I finally peeled myself
from the window I heard Nicole in the hallway.
She asked if I remembered how we used to sneak out there during
the afternoons, leaving behind random trinkets books,
leftovers, even shiny rocks. We thought looked cool.
We used to laugh about Forest Friends.
I kind of froze. It wasn't so funny.
Now, not after the things that happened in that Orchard, our
parents always chalked it up to overactive imaginations.
But deep down we knew we'd seen too much to dismiss.
I gestured for Nicole to come into my room and we shut the
door quietly. She looked nervous, shewing her
lip the way she does. When she stressed I asked her if
she truly remembered seeing those shapes.
And she nodded before I even finished the question.
She explained she still got nightmares from time to time.
Always involving tall Silhouettes, lurking behind
warped, trees hearing it in her voice.
Made my stomach clenched. We'd never actually admitted
this stuff to each other, not this directly.
It was late, so we decided to call it a night but sleep didn't
come easy. I kept thinking I might hear
something outside or notice a figure gliding past the window.
My mind spun with possibilities, maybe I'd step out in the
morning and discover footprints in the wet grass.
Or perhaps something else entirely was waiting hidden.
Just beyond my line of sight. I tried to stay rational telling
myself, it was just a heaviness of the past playing tricks, but
that unease kept gnawing at me and I couldn't relax.
Before I crawled under the sheets, I took one last glance
at the orchard. The clouds had cleared a bit and
the Moonlight gave the trees a Ghostly shein.
I didn't see anything move but I sure as hell felt watched It was
as if that entire stretch of land had been anticipating my
return. I shut the curtains flipped off
the light and slipped into bed. Heart, thudding hard enough to
keep me awake. Somewhere beyond these walls.
The orchard loomed silent brooding and two full of
memories. Neither Nicole nor I wanted to
face again. I woke up feeling like I'd
barely slept at all, but Morning Light was filtering through the
curtains. After the Restless night, I felt
a weird determination settle over me.
I needed to face that Orchard The plan was simple.
Nicole. And I would walk past the broken
fence scope out the trees in broad daylight and put our minds
at ease. Except deep down I suspected
we'd only confirm our worst fears.
Nicole was already up pacing by the back door with a flashlight
in her hand. It wasn't even that dark out,
but we both clung to the idea of extra light as if it might
Shield us. We didn't talk much.
Maybe we didn't want to voice. What we were really thinking
that we were about to step onto ground, we should have left
alone. I nudge, the old fence testing
its stability rotten playing planks, gave under my hand.
So we crawled through a gap in the boards instead.
The orchard greeted us with this damp overgrown, Stillness.
Weed sprouted near the Trunks and narrowed branches Twisted
overhead blocking out, patches of sun the deeper we went the
quieter. Everything seemed like the air
itself had thickened after a few minutes Nicole called my name
Softly. She pointed to the ground, where
a strange print marked the soil. It looked like a large hand with
a elongated fingers pressed into the mud.
And there were more staggered as if two or three creatures had
passed through. Some Impressions were bigger
others thinner, but all of them had that unsettling almost human
shape. My stomach churned at how fresh
they looked. No leaves, no debris.
Filled them in yet. We kept going stepping carefully
between the gnarled roots. Broken branches.
Littered the ground. Some arranged in odd patterns
like a scatter of Bones around a sacrifice site.
The hair on my arms prickled when Nicole led me to a half
collapsed lean to hidden behind a tangle of branches at first.
I thought maybe homeless folks had taken shelter here until I
caught the smell. It was a mix of wet animal fur
and something rotting. Around the lean to lay a
scattering of smaller bones, maybe raccoon or opossum lined
up in an almost ceremonial pattern.
I tried to steady my breathing as we walked farther in.
The orchard massive more like a twisted Forest than the neat
rows. I remembered from childhood.
My ears started picking up on faint Russell's though.
I couldn't pinpoint where they came from.
Nicole raised the flash light, even though the afternoon sun
was still filtering through the leaves.
That pale beam swept across tree trunks, marred by scratches
long. Deliberate streaks that spiraled
around the bark. It reminded me of some kind of
cryptic writing. Then out of the corner of my
eye, I saw something move. I froze, a tall gangly figure
stepped out from behind a trunk just enough for me to make out
its silhouette. It had blotchy patches of hair
on its shoulders, and its arms bent in an unnatural angle
against its chest. The face was hidden by Shadow
but I could sense it watching. I felt an overwhelming tension
Ripple through me as if my body was warning, me not to get any
closer. Suddenly it fled only fled is
too tame a word for how it moved.
It darted away in a burst of blurred speed limbs contorting
as though it wasn't fully Bound by joints or bones.
Leaves and twigs crunched in its wake, Nicole cursed under her
breath. And I stumbled backward, I
scanning the orchard for any sign of it.
That's when she pointed out another shape lurking, a few
yards deeper a broader figure standing completely still it's
eyes dull and whitish stared, our way like a pair of dead
orbs. We both stood their hearts
pounding. Not sure whether to run or speak
or simply stand our ground in the end, our instincts chose for
us. We backed away one step at a
time. Refusing to look away from those
glowing eyes. The creature stayed rooted as if
it was letting us leave on our own.
Once we turned and began speeding up the orchard broke
into a frenzy of noise. Branches, snapping leaves
rustling. I couldn't tell if it was behind
us or somewhere off to the side. All I knew was that we had to
get out By the time we reached the yard, my chest felt tight
and Nicole's face had lost all color.
We slammed the back door, locked it and stared at each other
breaths ragged I realized I still had the flashlight death
griped in my hand. She leaned against the wall,
trying to calm down. And finally looked at me with an
expression that said it all This wasn't just our imagination.
Those prints that lean to those things.
They were very real. We dragged ourselves to the
living room where the sun shining through the windows fell
almost surreal. After what we just seen, neither
of us spoke for a good few minutes. then Nicole whispered
that she couldn't shake the feeling they knew we were
coming, like we'd walked into their domain uninvited And I had
to agree. It was as though, the orchard
had been anticipating our return.
Waiting to reveal how it had changed.
And to show us that we weren't the only ones prowling those
Twisted rows of trees That evening Nicole.
And I huddled in the living room.
The only light coming from a single lamp that casts jittery
Shadows on the walls. Outside the orchard loomed, all
dark Trunks and twisted branches.
A storm was brewing, Gus rattled.
The windows, making a Flinch at every sudden noise neither of us
wanted to head up stairs. So we made a silent pact to stay
up and keep an eye on the backyard.
Part of me hated the idea. Like, if I looked hard enough, I
might invite something to stare back, but ignoring it felt
worse. Midnight approached and the wind
kicked up whipping leaves around the yard.
In the faint, glow of the porchlight.
I noticed a shape Dart between the trees.
I nudged Nicole and she killed the lamp plunging us into near
Darkness. Through the window I could make
out what seemed to be one of those long limbed figures head
tilted. As if listening for us I found
myself gripping the windowsill with tents fingers we stood
there for what felt like forever until the figure drifted out of
sight behind the orchard line. Nicole whispered that we needed
to follow it? That maybe this was a chance to
learn something. I didn't like it but a weird
sense of determination force my hand.
We grabbed our flashlights, pulled on jackets, and slipped
out the back door. The cold night, air practically
stung, my face. I inched forward, scanning the
darkness. A glimpse of milky white eyes.
Flickered behind a gnarled trunk then vanished.
The orchard was drawing us in. We crossed the fence again,
stepping onto the path, where the ground turned spongy from
all the recent rain. My pulse hammered, as we moved
deeper the flash, light beams, picking up nothing, but branches
and Scattered debris. soon though, we found ourselves in a
small clearing, Moonlight seeped through a gap in the canopy
Illuminating an arrangement of sticks and Bones, piled around
an old tree stump The site made my stomach churn clumps of fur,
rotting fruit, and bits of cloth were woven into a strange
pattern. It almost looked like a shrine
or maybe a warning, a Russell broke the 10 silence. something
tall crouched behind a cluster of shrubs at the clearing, Zedge
At first it watched us with that blank, lifeless stare.
Then it pulled back like it was waiting for our next move
Nicole, gently set an apple near the stump mimicking.
The offering's. We left his children.
Her hand shook, but she managed to keep steady long enough to
place it down. another shape crept through the trees, a
creature with broader shoulders, half hidden in the Gloom Its
presence felt more assertive. Like it was the one in charge.
Everything happened in a blur. There was a snapping noise from
the shadows and we caught sight of a third figure smaller, but
disturbingly quick crawling on all fours.
Nicole and I backed away a surge of Terror Royal in my chest and
my flash light trembled the beam dancing across Twisted roots, We
heard heavy breathing hours, maybe theirs and the orchard
seems charged with a Restless energy.
We bolted branches at my jacket tripping, me up as Nicole and I
sprinted toward the fence, adrenaline, pounding in our ears
behind us. We caught fleeting movements in
the darkness part of me thought they were chasing us but when we
reached the fence line, everything went eerily calm like
the orchard exhaled, once we crossed out of its domain.
We stumbled into the house, locked, the door and collapsed
onto the living room floor. My heart hammered so hard.
I felt dizzy. Nicole looked just as rattled
tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. we sat there, both
of us struggling to process, that clearing those silent
watching figures and the feeling that we'd intruded on something
ancient and territorial by mourning, neither of us could
pretend this was just an overblown childhood fantasy
anymore. We packed our bags quietly
deciding to leave Redwood Falls. A weight of dread clung to me,
though. Like we were only postponing the
inevitable. Those things in the orchard had
seen us recognized us. And somehow, I couldn't shake
the idea that we'd been allowed to leave this time.
I'd been burying myself and work for weeks churning through
endless shifts and coming home with barely any time to eat or
crash. My head felt like it was in a
vise from all the stress. So the idea of a midnight walk
on the Wooded Trail behind my neighborhood started, sounding
pretty good. It used to be my favorite place
to clear my thoughts. A straightforward path.
Usually quiet except for the home of crickets and the soft
crackle of leaves underfoot. I stepped onto the trail taking
in the surprisingly still, are I expected?
The usual nighttime chorus, but everything felt muted.
My flashlight beam cut through the darkness in a narrow Arc,
revealing only the next few feet of dirt and Tangled roots.
The hush unsettled me. So I kept moving.
Hoping the rhythmic motion of walking would call my nerves.
With each step, I tried to convince myself.
I was just being jumpy after a long shift.
About a mile into the forest, annoys caught my attention a
rustle in the leaves to my left like someone stepping off Trail.
My first thought was that, it might be another late night
walker, but whoever it was didn't say anything or respond.
When I paused and took a quick look around.
I shouted a casual greeting. Hoping to ease the tension
nothing the silence weighed heavier after that, I flicked
off my flashlight, standing dead, still in the dark,
straining to pick up any sign of movement, not a single Branch
suede the night thick as if the air itself was holding back a
secret, I took a breath and turned the light back on
deciding to head back. My steps were faster this time.
Only a minute later. There was a distinct crunch of
foliage behind me instead of sounding like a person
strolling. It reminded me of something
moving in a way humans. Don't I whipped around shining
my flashlight at the trees but spotted, nothing.
Besides a few crooked Trunks and the dull glow of their bark.
I barked a warning telling whoever might be out there to
knock it off and that I wasn't in the mood for games.
No voice answered. There was just a long stretch of
waiting. Like the woods were testing, how
long I had my ground? I caught the flash of something
pale between the trees just for a split second, but it stood out
starkly in the blackness. My throat tightened in a wave of
panic. I'd never quite experienced
before. Whatever.
I glanced was hairless a shape. That seemed all arms and legs
like it was built to be on all fours.
It moved in an almost fluid weigh Vanishing before I could
focus on its exact form. I felt pinned in place by an
awful sense, that it was still near.
Suddenly a burst of motion stirred behind me again and I
spun fists, clenched around my flash light this time a laugh.
I can only call it that reverberated through the trees.
The sound was, unlike any normal laughter higher pitched with an
unnatural rasp that made every Instinct in me, screamed to run.
I did. I sprinted until I hit the
familiar edge of the trail, stumbling onto the street lights
at my door. I fumbled with my keys half
expecting to find that thing. Right behind me wearing that
distorted grin. I'd imagine in the Darkness.
Once I got inside my entire body was shaking, I locked every door
and window peering out into the shadows as if it could slip
under the porch light at any second.
Later, I told the cops I would run into a suspicious person.
I couldn't bring myself to describe the tall pale figure on
all fours or the spine tingling laugh.
Saying it out loud, felt absurd, like admitting I had crossed
into some Twisted nightmare. But to sight of that form, in my
flashlight's, beam refused to leave my mind.
And in my gut, I knew I had to go back.
If I didn't that nameless mocking presence would haunt me
forever. I spent the next day stuck in a
Restless fall, my nerves were still raw from that freakish and
counter. And even though I tried to
explaining it to my closest friends over text, I could tell
they were skeptical. Like, they figured I was
overtired or half to lears. But I wasn't about to let it go.
I invited three of them over pretty much pleading for backup.
I told them every detail, write down to the bizarre laugh.
That echoed through the darkness.
They kept exchanging glances torn between curiosity and
thinking I'd completely lost it after a solid hour of me, pacing
around my living room and rehashing the events they
finally agreed to come with me. Two of them brought pistols.
One. Slung.
A shotgun over his shoulder and I triple checked the batteries
for our flashlights. Jokes flowed while we prepped.
It was their way of dealing with the tension.
My own anxiety. Didn't budge, though.
I kept flashing back to that hairless shape.
I'd seen vanished behind the trees.
A big part of me wondered, if we'd be safe, another part, knew
it wouldn't let me rest. And unless I had backup, we set
up at around 9:30, p.m. stepping onto the same trail.
That had haunted, my dreams, the past few nights.
The initial stretch felt like any typical night hike.
A slight breeze leaves. Overhead forming ghostly
patterns in our flash light beams, My friends kept up the
banter, aiming to lighten the mood.
I tried to join in but my mind kept drifting to the possibility
of seeing that thing again. This time with others around to
confirm my wasn't imagining it Deeper along the path.
We slowed, our Pace, the trees pressed in closer and the ground
turned uneven an unsettling hush replaced.
Our early chatter, even my buddies.
Confident, jokes fizzled out, we all felt it, like the forest
itself was sizing us up. I started scanning every bit of
Shadow gripping my flashlight so hard.
My hand hurt out of nowhere, heavy footfalls broke the
silence They seemed distant but headed in our Direction, slow
and deliberate it first, we aimed our flash light, beams
toward the noise, but caught only glimpses of movement in the
undergrowth. I shouted a warning announcing
we were armed that we'd fire if necessary no response.
Instead those steps morphed into a frenzied scramble sounding
more like an animal charging than a person walking.
One friend triggered, his flash light and pointed his pistol
voice shaking as he threatened. Whoever might be lurking out
there. The sound.
Stopped everything fell silent for a stretched moment.
Then we caught a flash of something pale sliding behind a
wide trunk too fast for comfort. Another friend swore under his
breath, while the shotgun wheeler pulled his weapon
forward. The tension in the air, felt
thick enough to slice. Suddenly a shrill cry, rang out
Parts. Scream part laughter.
That chilling Echo bounced through the branches.
The friend with the shotgun fired, his blast lighting up the
trees in a harsh burst. Splinters erupted from a trunk
but all we saw was a twisted silhouette streak to the side,
Vanishing into deeper Darkness. My pulse thudded in my ears as
the reality hit. This was real.
We were out here with something that shouldn't exist and it
didn't seem afraid of our Firepower.
Everyone started talking at once.
Another round, went off into the spot we'd last seen movement but
only the echo of gunfire answered.
The rest of the forest swallowed our flash light beams.
When the Smoke cleared the hush returned broken only by our
ragged breathing. The sudden quiet may have been
worse than the chaos. I could almost sense.
An intelligence lurking out there waiting for our guard to
drop. We regrouped rifles and pistols
still raised and began a slow Retreat, back to the trailhead.
Nobody tried to act Brave anymore.
We stuck closed scanning all angles Hearts pounding?
Nothing else came charging at us, but I got the impression we
were being followed the whole way.
Once we neared, the opening of the path, we practically jogged
to my car arms, still ready in case that thing decided to
pounce At home, we collapsed around the kitchen table.
Nobody had any appetite. One buddy said, he'd caught a
clearer glimpse a long limbed figure hugging the ground, its
eyes non-existent or hidden in Shadow.
Another kept insisting, he nailed it with the shotgun but
no trace of blood or any sign of injury showed up afterward.
By the end of the night, our skepticism was gone.
We could hardly speak. Each of us looked like we'd seen
a nightmare step off the page and walk among us.
Lying in bed hours later. I stared at my ceiling
question's raging in my brain. We'd gone in expecting to Corner
some weirdo messing around in the dark.
Maybe find a Half Baked prankster.
Instead we ended up with a glimpse of something we couldn't
easily Define and the worst part was knowing we'd barely
scratched the surface. I spent the next few days in a
weird limbo. Between haunting memories and
frantic web searches. I tried piecing together, any
clue, that might explain what lurked in those woods.
Every free moment I'd be scrolling through forums, where
people wrote about unexplained, sightings reading posts from
folks, who claim they stumbled across pale creatures or heard
voices, that didn't belong to anything human. some sounded
far-fetched but a handful lined up disturbingly well with what
my friends and I witnessed All of us had agreed to try again.
We were dead set on capturing solid evidence this time photos
video, or at least something Beyond shaky memories and bullet
casings. I met up with the crew at my
place, the same living room, where we gathered and panic
after our last run in Instead of going in blind, we laid out a
plan, bring more robust cameras, a few motion sensors and better
lights with extended range. We even rigged up a cheap night
vision, set up. That one friend had thrown
together using old security camera parts.
It looks clunky but we were desperate enough to give it a
shot. The evening we picked was Grim,
which fit our mood perfectly? Clouds, choked out the Moonlight
and the temperature dropped low enough to make the air feel
heavy against my skin. We joked half-heartedly about
forming a paranormal, SWAT team. But the tension was impossible
to ignore. Nobody wanted to say it but we
were all thinking, what if this time it doesn't back off?
We parked near the trailhead, the headlight swept across the
looming trees as we climbed out instead of cracking jokes.
We got Right to Work. Unloading gear a hush settled
over us like an unwelcome tension.
That wouldn't quit. I could tell my friends were on
edge just from the way. They moved.
Quick efficient, no wasted gestures.
We entered the woods at a slow pace.
I kept glancing over my shoulder half expecting to see that pale
shape lurking behind us, right from the start. but for a while
we only heard the crunch of leaves beneath our boots,
Eventually the dense canopy swallowed, what little light we
had forcing us to rely on our flashlights and the faint glow
from the night vision rig. Every so often a branch would
snap and we'd all stop in unison.
Scanning the darkness, we settled near the spot where we'd
confronted the creature before. The plan was to set up a camera
pointing into the deeper brush, while the rest of us crouched in
a semi-circle, ready to flip on the biggest Spotlight.
If we sensed any movement, one friend, positioned motion
sensors, around the perimeter, carefully masking them behind
Fallen logs or thick bushes. Another was in charge of the
night vision. Feed squinting at the small
monitor, we'd rigged up in a backpack.
Time seemed to crawl. We whispered back and forth,
trying to stay alert without giving ourselves away.
For long stretches. The only sound was our own
breathing. Then something shifted to our
left, the faint noise of leaves rustling, two rhythmic to be the
breeze. We glanced in that direction,
barely able to see beyond a few feet.
My heart thudded like a war, drum.
The sensors didn't go off but the night vision guy muttered
that he saw a flicker of movement on his monitor.
We aimed the light in that direction but the undergrowth
was so thick it felt like we were Illuminating nothing.
A minute crawled by then another just as we were starting to
think it might have been an animal allowed scrape echoed
from our write the complete opposite side.
It was the kind of sound you'd hear of something dragged across
the forest floor. We all whipped around my friend
with the shotgun dropped into a firing stance muzzle aiming into
the Shadows. I panned my flash light over the
area but it reflected off something pale for barely an
instant. The next second a sudden, cackle
tour through the silence. As if mocking, our attempted
Vigilantes my nerves had felt raw before but that sound
magnified. Everything, the friend with the
shotgun took the shot without hesitation, The Flash lit up a
grotesque outline elongated, limbs skin, that looked ghostly
white Under the bright light. It recoiled letting out a
guttural shriek that rattled, the branches overhead Another
friend fired as well and I saw a flurry of movement as whatever
it was. Lunged sideways out of view the
cameras captured flickers of it, darting behind a mass of Tangled
brush before the night vision feed cut to static.
We heard that thrashing of branches As It sped deeper into
the woods. One friend swung, the spotlight
that way revealing nothing, but swaying leaves.
For a moment, I wondered if we'd actually heard it or just made
it Furious. There was no real time to think,
though. A mocking laugh echoed again,
this time more distant. It sounded bizarrely giddy.
Like it was toying with us. We debated chasing it.
Part of us wanted to finish what we started.
But a colder more rational side pointed out that we were
outmatched in its territory. We'd lost our night vision feed
and stumbling around in the dark while it crept through the trees
seemed like a death wish. I shouted for everyone to
regroup. The plan went out the window,
the moment we realized it had vanished beyond our reach.
We scooped up the equipment. We could grab quickly some of
the motion sensors stayed behind, and made our way back.
Picking a direct path. Rather than following the trails
winding route. As we pushed through undergrowth
our arms and faces got scratched up, but we didn't care.
We wanted out of those trees. Once we burst onto the main
path, we hustled toward the car. The whole time I was positive,
that thing might come barreling at us from the side.
I kept my flashlight, aim behind us half expecting to see those
contorted. Limbs close enough to touch But
we reached the safety of the open lot without another attack.
When we finally slam the car doors shut the relief was almost
dizzying. We drove back to my place.
None of us. Speaking until we were inside
with the lights on. I felt like I was stuck in a
nightmare that refused to end. We checked the cameras found
brief shots of that lanky shape twisting away from the second
gunshot. Then a flash of white as a tore,
the night vision lends from its perch, most of the recordings
after that were static or wild, swing, as the cameras, hit the
ground. We talked in low voices about
what we do next. Another visit felt like tempting
fate but leaving it alone. Meant living with a terrifying
at our doorstep. For all our preparations.
We barely managed a few seconds of footage in more questions
than answers. I felt Hollow that night, I sat
alone in my living room. After everyone headed home, my
windows were locked the curtains drawn, the memory of that pale
form burned into my mind. We might have proof but we also
had proof of how unprepared we really were.
And if it was still out there laughing and unhurt.
What would stop it from following us back or worse?
Part of me wanted to pretend none of this ever happened to
bury it and return to a normal routine.
Another part knew there was no going back, we'd looked behind a
curtain. We never should have touched and
now it felt like the forest itself was awake waiting.
I was barely old enough to speak when the strangest memory,
stamped itself on my mind. Imagine this a wide sky with no
Horizon, like someone had wiped away land and sea leaving only
clouds drifting in every direction.
There. I stood, if that's even the
right word for floating weightlessly with nothing but
beneath my feet, Right beside me was an older man who seemed both
familiar and alien at once. His face was kind his eyes
carrying a wisdom. I couldn't possibly understand
as a toddler. He wore a robe, the color of
Warren linen and he asked, are you prepared?
The question didn't frighten me? In fact, it felt more like a
gentle invitation. Something that promised a
journey I was meant to take. A flicker of images flashed
before me moments from what I'd later recognized as my own life.
Then, everything rushed downward.
The only way I can describe it is as though I tumbled from that
place of the clouds, right into my birth.
It's absurd, right? A kid that young shouldn't have
any concept of birth, much less of meeting and Indigenous man on
a plane of thin air. But that memory never went away.
And As I Grew Older, I tried to wave it off like a dream or an
overactive fantasy yet. It clung to my subconscious with
Relentless persistence. My parents never talked much
about our ancestry dad mentioned, once that we had a
bit of indigenous blood in the family line, centuries old, but
no one kept track of specifics. We lived in coastal Maine for a
while. When I was very small, cold
Winters Fierce winds. My grandparents would recount
local stories about the harsh reality of living in such
climate's. Nothing Supernatural.
Mostly Pioneer struggles and survival.
Tales They all seemed normal enough for our region, but
something always, caught, my attention, whenever talk turned
to lonely Woods or hidden corners of the shoreline where
Eerie things supposedly happened.
As I got older, I fell into a typical kid routine cartoons in
the morning. Elementary School in the
afternoon homework at night. Life seemed boringly ordinary
except for these faint glimpses. I'd catch sometimes at night.
Whenever the clouds block the Moonlight, I'd sense a
silhouette near my bedroom window like a presence standing,
just beyond the glass. It never lasted more than a
second or two. So I bury my head under the
blankets and blame it on. My wild imagination that logic
stopped comforting me around the time.
I turned seven. One evening while lying away, a
mental image, seeped into my consciousness.
A face. So thin it looked more skeleton
than human. The skin stretched taught as if
starved the lips drawn back to reveal teeth that almost glowed
White. And expression Twisted into a
grin too wide too unnatural. My nerves instantly went
haywire. I couldn't grasp where this face
came from, or why it popped into my head.
I never saw a real corpse at that age.
So Conjuring, such a graphic sight out of nowhere.
Made no sense. I tried to explain it to Mom the
next morning. She gave me a sympathetic smile
and told me I probably had a bad dream.
Though, I wanted to believe her. That explanation felt Hollow
This mental image wasn't confined to sleep.
It lingered during broad daylight flashing.
In my thoughts, if I let my mind wander, At recess while other
kids laughed on the swings, I would stand off to the side
imagining that awful grin hovering right behind me.
More than once, I spun around expecting to find a real
creature there. Moms concerned, grew, whenever
she noticed, I refused to sleep. With my curtains open, I had
practically beg her to shut them tight or better yet.
Let me keep a small lamp on through the night.
She asked if I was afraid of burglars or big dogs outside,
anything tangible? She could fix.
I couldn't tell her the truth in a way that didn't sound insane.
I keep picturing a leathery half-dead face that stares
through the window. That's not exactly an easy topic
for a kid to bring up. So I stayed quiet.
The only person I tiptoed around the subject with was Grandpa
during one of our rare quiet talks.
He leaned back in his creaking chair, reminiscing about old
folk tales. He spoke of Travelers who
wandered too far in the snow and never came back.
The same of strange shapes glimpsed at dusk among the
spruce trees. He joked that these were just
local ghost stories. Meant to scare children but he
never completely dismissed them either.
He'd shrug and say, some folks claim they've seen things we
can't explain. Then he'd Pat my shoulder.
Like that was all the advice he could offer all this built into
a constant Edge in my life. By day, I was just another kid,
dealing with spelling tests and trading snack packs with
classmates. By night, my thoughts circled
back to that haunting face skin pulled.
So, tight eyes too far back in their sockets grin that didn't
belong on anything alive. Clouds became my silent enemies
whenever the sky darkened. My stomach Twisted in
anticipation. I'd force myself to Blink.
Hoping each time, I opened my eyes that maybe this Terror
would vanish it didn't vanish. In fact, it's settled in deeper
as if waiting for the right moment to reveal its full
monstrous self and that's what had me on edge.
The nagging hunch that I was seeing only a fragment of
something bigger, a presence that was content to lurk in the
corners of my mind, until the day, it decided to show itself
completely So there, I was living a double life, in a
sense, one side was, your average childhood fighting with
my younger sister, over the TV remote rolling.
My eyes, when Mom asked me to clean my room.
Looking forward to an ice cream cone after school.
The other side was an ever-looming suspicion that I
was being watched by something beyond my understanding,
something that had latched onto me from my earliest breath.
The memory of that robed man in the sky tied, oddly into these
nightmarish visions. But I couldn't connect the dots.
All I knew was that this fear refused to leave.
And each year that went by, it felt a little more real.
I told myself, it was nothing. I pushed it down.
But some Shadows aren't satisfied with being ignored.
And I was starting to suspect that no amount of daylight could
truly protect me from the thing waiting just behind the clouds.
I was 10 when I stumbled across a library book, that changed
everything. It was an old volume in the back
corner of the local Brands Pages, yellowed from age and
handling. The book chronicled an ill-fated
Arctic Expedition. Men trapped in Endless ice some
Vanishing with without explanation.
Others found decades later preserved in the unforgiving,
coal. Their photographs were printed
in grainy black and white. But the images still came off
the page with startling clarity. As I flipped through a picture
of a recovered body made me freeze.
Its features drawn skin, slightly, parted lips, vacant
eyes mirrored, the Twisted face that had plagued my dreams for
years. It was as if those nightmares
had been plucked out of my head and captured by a camera long
before I was born. The Coincidence might have been
chalked up to a child's imagination, meshing with grim
pictures, except my Knights got worse from that point on
whenever clouds passed over the moon.
I sensed something just beyond the bedroom door.
The hall way. Usually harmless turned into a
stretch of Shadows. ordinary sounds the settling of the
house, the refrigerator humming suddenly felt sinister As those
something in the darkness was drawing closer.
Sleep didn't come easily when it did.
My dreams were restless teeming with images of tall Silhouettes
backlit by muted light. A few years later in my teams.
I met Melissa She was vibrant full of laughter yet.
She also came with a subtle intensity that Drew Me In.
She admitted once quietly that she'd picked up on a shadow
around me. The first week we hung out
though she didn't spell out what that meant.
Curious. I pressed her and little by
little she revealed she often had odd intuitions about people.
Sometimes she knew who was feeling low before, they said a
word or she'd sense a presence in an empty house, only to
discover a tragic backstory tied to the place.
Normally, I would have called it nonsense, but she kept reading
me to accurately to ignore. As we grew closer, I worked up
the courage to describe the face I'd been seeing.
Melissa didn't laugh or roll her eyes.
She listened carefully. Her expression.
Grimm She confessed that on more than one occasion, while
standing in my kitchen or passing the open window in my
living room, she had felt watched by something.
Neither of us knew what to call it.
Only that it radiated a hostility that made the air feel
heavier. My curiosity turned into
Obsession. I began reading about various
Legends, especially those involving winter Spirits or
creatures born of starvation and coal.
That's when I learned about something referred to as
Guinness in a few sources. A being that was said to appear
as a gaunt. I kissed monstrosity devouring.
Anyone foolhardy enough to wander alone in a frigate
Forest. Every article I found described
it as eternally hungry with skin pulled tight over its bones, a
near-perfect match for what I've been envisioning since
childhood. accounts varied but they all shared a Common Thread,
a Relentless Predator that thrives on human fear and
Desperation sleep became even more elusive, Melissa noticed,
dark circles, under my eyes and worried that I was barely
eating, I'd lie awake into the early hours, convince the
temperature dropped whenever my thoughts drifted to That Hideous
figure At times I felt almost feverish sweating under thick
blankets. Only to feel a sudden chill that
made my stomach twists. My faith as a Methodist.
Had always taught me to question on Earthly claims, so I
attempted to reason it away. Yet, my nerves weren't fooled.
The more I researched, the more I sensed an unseen Force
pressing closer. One detail about these winter
Spirits, struck me harder than the rest.
The belief that speaking or thinking of them, too deeply
might feed their presence. I wasn't sure.
I believed it, but a creeping suspicion told me that this dark
Obsession of mine was giving it room to grow.
I spent long nights hovering over my computer jumping at
every minor noise searching for any explanation or antidote to
the fear that now filled my waking hours.
Every piece of folklore. I uncovered seemed to strengthen
the parallels between my experiences and these old
unsettling Tales. Melissa tried to support me.
Even offered to talk to a friend of hers who supposedly had
experience dealing with malevolent entities.
I hesitated torn between my reluctance to dive into rituals,
I didn't comprehend and the dread that ignoring this thing
would only make it bolder. By the time, winter rolled
around, I felt constantly on edge.
Scanning corners and windows as if expecting a glimpse of that
long limbed shape. Logic told me to back off, but
curiosity and Desperation had me pressing forward.
The more I dug the heavier, the air felt around me like the
weight of an ancient presence was settling in for the Long
Haul. And deep down I wondered if I
had passed the point of no return, if shining a light on
this horror had only made it that much more real in my life.
I wish I could say moving to Northern Alabama, offered a
clean slate that the milder Winters would smother any
remnants of that Bleak presence. But it didn't take long for me
to realize, I'd brought the darkness with me, like some
unwelcomed stowaway. At first Melissa and I focused
on settling into our new place, unpacking boxes and exploring
the friendly little town. Days were usually full of
sunshine and friendly neighbors, dropping by with homemade pies.
Nights though, came with a different kind of hush.
And I couldn't shake the sense that something out there.
Watched each step we took when the first cold snap hit in
mid-December the house different.
Drafty maybe or simply uneasy. I'd walked down the hall way and
catch faint, scratching noises that could have been tree
branches against the siding, except there were no branches
near that section of wall. Melissa asked if I thought
raccoons were nesting somewhere, but neither of us really
believed it. Truth was any time I heard that
sound a wave of dread tense, every muscle.
It felt as if a visitor Pace, just outside the house searching
for a way in. A couple of days later, the
power flicker during a gray afternoon, Melissa had gone to
work leaving me alone so I grabbed a flashlight and
rummaged through drawers looking for fresh batteries.
While doing that, I became aware of how silent everything had
gone like the entire house was braced for something.
Then through the kitchen window, I noticed the silhouette of a
figure in the yard. It stood perfectly still taller
than any person I'd ever seen in real life. the moment I tried to
focus on it, the power surged back to life, and all the lights
blinked on flooding, the window with glare, By the time I
managed to squint into the yard, the shape was gone.
My heart hammered so hard, it felt audible in my ears.
Melissa came home that evening and I finally blurted out what
it happened. She didn't doubt me, which felt
both comforting and terrifying. There was no, maybe you imagined
it from her. Instead, she said, I think we
have to try something about this. she'd already reached out
to one of her long time, friends, an amateur,
practitioner who claimed expertise in warding off
malevolent entities, My gut Twisted at the idea of turning
to rituals, I knew nothing about but I couldn't deny that Common
Sense had gotten me nowhere. We arranged to meet her friend
Sam at our place. As soon as Sam stepped inside,
she frowned like she'd walked into a frigate draft.
She carried a small bag that clanked with who knew what?
I hovered awkwardly in the corner watching her set candles
on our coffee table and sprinkle a powdery mix in the corners of
the living room. She explained it was a blend of
sage salt and other herbs meant to purify the space.
I wasn't sure what I expected, but the ritual she performed was
calm, almost methodically. She lit the candles murmured
prayers or incantations under her breath.
Then walked from room to room drawing, symbols on scraps of
paper and tucking them above door frames.
The walls felt like they were vibrating with tension as if the
house held its breath while she worked.
At one point, Sam paused in the hallway and whispered it's in
here somewhere waiting. She never raised her voice but
the finality of her tone, made my skin crawl, when she
finished. She gathered her materials and
tried to reassure us. I've set up protections she said
but you two need to stay strong in your conviction.
That it can't rule your life. If you keep dwelling on it,
you're inviting it to stick around.
She left soon after closing the door behind her with a solemn
nod that night Melissa and I settled down in the living room.
Both of us exhausted. But hopeful that the measures
Sam took might help We tried distracting ourselves with a
movie, something light-hearted, to break the tension.
We were about halfway in when the lights flickered again.
I swallowed hard and force myself to stay.
Calm. I told myself it was just the
local power grid acting up. Then I caught a glimpse of
something in the reflection of the TV screen towering gone,
hovering behind us. I spun expecting to find the
room empty and sure enough. There was nothing there, but the
moment left me shaking and Melissa looked equally unnerved.
Sleep was no better. I drift off only to wake from a
half dream of wind howling against the house that tall
shape lurking outside the window.
At one point, I nearly convinced myself I heard slow.
Deliberate footsteps on the port?
By morning, I was drained and Melissa suggested a short walk
outside to clear our heads. We bundled up against the Chill
and wandered, a path near the woods behind our property. the
skeletal branches overhead, filtered the pale winter sun,
creating patches of shadow that made me uneasy Every now and
then, I'd swear I saw Motion in my peripheral vision, but
looking directly in that direction revealed only empty
Woods religious guilt, not at me.
My Methodist upbringing had taught me to be wary of dwelling
on Spirits or unseen forces. Yet here I was tiptoeing through
what felt like a spiritual Battleground.
I actually visited a nearby church that week sitting in a
Pew to pray for clarity. The pastor, a well-meaning older
gentleman. Offered comforting words but
didn't have much practical advice.
Evil feeds on our fear. He said, remain strong.
Trust in your face. Good advice, may be but not
exactly a step by step manual for banishing.
A winter race. Days passed and the tension at
home seemed to lessen at least marginally as those Sam's
rituals had thrown up a wall around us.
Melissa noticed, fewer cold spots and fewer moments of
inexplicable dread I started to hope that maybe we turned a
corner. But I'd known from the start.
This wouldn't resolve so easily. The real test came one cloudy
evening with the temperature dropping fast and the wind
picking up outside. Allowed thud rattled the back
door, my heart. Leaped into overdrive.
Melissa and I glanced at each other, then ran to see what
caused it. We found nothing but swirling
leaves on the porch. My nerves were still jangled by
the time. I tried to return to the living
room and that's when every hair on my arms Rose.
Standing outside the window was a shape.
So large it filled the frame. Shoulders jutted at impossible,
angles skin that appeared stretched and weathered like it
had been exposed to centuries of freezing temperatures.
For a heartbeat. I couldn't move.
It didn't launch. It didn't Roar just stared
through the glass with That Hideous grin carved across its
face. My breath came in ragged gasps,
but I managed to break eye contact and reach for the
nearest lamb. The second I flicked on the
window glare, hid whatever, stood out there.
By the time Melissa dashed in and we flung the curtains open,
there was only the empty yard, the darkness beyond the porch
light on broken. That's when it dawned on me.
I was out of easy options. This thing, whether a literal
ancient Spirit or a haunting, manifestation of something
deeper had followed me from childhood ignoring time and
distance. I was left with a choice between
diving into a lore and tradition.
I barely understood or continuing to suffer these
attacks of Terror, possibly letting them.
Consume me. Melissa tried to call me down.
Reminding me. That Sam's protections had
helped once and could be reinforced.
Maybe with additional guidance from others, who understood
these rituals more thoroughly. I stared out into the night
imagining that towering figure still standing in the shadows.
Even if I took the next steps contacted tribal Elders, tried
more protective rights. I wasn't sure how that clashed
with my face or my sense of reality.
But at this point, I realized I do almost anything to make this
thing go away. The final image burned in my
mind was that grin against the window.
Like it was silently daring me to act, like it was certain I'd
never escaped its reach. I don't know exactly which path,
I'll choose yet but ignoring it isn't an option.
If there's one thing I've learned it's that Darkness like
this doesn't just fade, it waits hungry and patient for the next
cold wind or the next moment of Doubt to slip back in and if I
stand by doing nothing, it may eventually devour everything.
I hold dear. So now I'm standing at a
threshold uncertain, but determined to confront, whatever
this is because letting it rule my life.
Any longer simply isn't an option.
It was the fall of 2009 and I was 16 years old at the time.
I lived in the central part of North Carolina.
Nowadays, the cities are loaded with things to do for the
Halloween season. But back then, the best form of
entertainment. I could come up with was
visiting the devil's tramping ground with a few friends.
The devil's tramping ground as a local Legend.
It sits right outside Siler City in North Carolina about an hour
away from where I lived and I had just gotten my license.
So why not for those unfamiliar with the Locale or its Legend
the devil's tramping ground is a perfectly circular patch of dead
soil, in the middle of the Woods.
Despite the surrounding Greenery.
Nothing grows in that Circle. Legend says that if you drop or
leave anything in the circle, it's moved or disappears by
mourning as the devil. Supposedly comes here late at
night to plot, his evil doings Against Humanity, pacing in a
circle. As he thinks That's the gist.
But feel free to research it. It's a decent read.
Siler City is a sticks and barns town with long Barren roads that
practically scream. Don't stop until you get the
hell out of here. It was on one of those roads
that I began to feel uneasy, rural areas, always have that
heavy Twilight Zone energy and the road we were on conveniently
named Devil's tramping. Ground Rd was entirely unlit the
only illumination for the cracked.
Assault was the fading yellow headlights of my 2002, Mercury
Cougar, and the faint glow of a crescent moon.
In those dim lights, we started to see graffiti splattered on
the road leading up to the place.
Creepy warnings, I didn't expect and never realized the impact of
until I saw them. In white paint, the road was
marked with crude messages the one.
I remember most said the devil lives here And a huge white
cross stood in front of an opening in the forest.
I parked on the side of the road.
The grounds itself wasn't as creepy as I'd expected.
It wasn't very deep into the woods.
In fact, the clearing was visible from the road.
It wasn't as menacing as I'd imagined.
Maybe it was the empty beer cans and red Solo cups scattered
around. Obviously people partied there
Or maybe it was the jokes, my friends and I started cracking
almost immediately. But at around 2 a.m. we wanted
to catch Lucifer at his. Our I felt Less on edge than I
had on the road. my flash light beam seemed to vanish if I aimed
at Upward, so I kept it pointed at the soil, genuinely more
interested in finding something paranormal than my friends were
There were four of us total after a while.
Two of my friends went back to the car.
It was cold and not much was happening.
I stayed behind with one friend. I had brought a Ziploc bag along
with a pocket. Bible a Rosary in my pocket just
in case and a stuffed rabbit given to me by one of my best
friends. Before leaving.
I scooped some of the Dead soil into the Ziploc, curious to see
if studying it later. Might provide a clue alien
radiation, climate change, sulfur.
Maybe the devil was just busy that night between joking and
complaining about the cold. We suddenly heard someone
walking in the depths of the woods, this wasn't a vague
noise. This was a definite heavy step,
the sound came from behind the brush among the trees and it was
unashamed of being heard. That was the first time I
noticed there were no crickets or any other sounds at all.
It was just us and these footsteps.
I was even more reluctant to lift my small flash light, which
was tucked under my arm and pointed at my soil sample.
My eyes had already adjusted to the dark.
So we stood there and I could make out the shape of something
in the woods. It was dark but I could see it
tall but not freakishly tall, human-shaped, walking on two
feet. It would walk, then stop then
walk again. Moving in our Direction, I
think. We were petrified not moving or
breathing. I was so afraid.
I felt numb, though. I trembled a little.
We just stared. Later, we talked about how we
both wondered if it saw us and how we didn't want to move in
case it hadn't. We'd also talk about the smell
and awful putrid, stench of burning feces rotting eggs and
decaying meat. I grew up Catholic hence the
Bible and rosary and was taught that smell meant the devil was
nearby which only made things worse.
Even now typing this I'm trembling a bit.
Thing lingered among the skeletal branches seemingly?
Toying with us. I say skeletal, because not much
Greenery was alive at the time. At some point, I was sure.
It saw me. I got that Sixth Sense, feeling
of being watched and then an overwhelming despair washed over
me. That's when I realized my friend
had been clutching the back of my collar.
I think I was so paralyzed with fear that I felt nothing, but
numbness. Wasn't even cold anymore.
But once I fell, my friend's hand, I dropped everything in my
arms, stood up and quickly headed, back to the car.
I didn't run out right but it was a very hurried walk.
I just assumed my friend was right behind me.
To be honest, I didn't think much about it at the time.
I was too ready to leave. I took off into the trees
instead of following the clear path heading toward the yellow
glow of the headlights. Although the road was closed by
it felt like an agonizingly long distance enough for the small
branches to scrape and cut my hands cheeks and neck.
This whole ordeal couldn't have lasted very long.
When I got back to my car, the keys were already in the
ignition. The other two had turned on the
heat. And they asked what it happened.
My friend who stayed behind with me, God in the passenger seat
soon. After, and we took off, The two
in the car pointed out that our eyes were swollen and bright
red. I think we had been crying
without realizing it. Or at least it looked that way.
In the rearview mirror, I saw my pupils where abnormally, large
and my eyelids were puffy tender and red.
Maybe it was just fear combined with the darkness, but it was
still unsettling. I realized later, I left my
Bible, my stuffed rabbit and my Ziploc bag of dirt in the
circle. I thought about going back the
next day when it was light out. But I never did.
I still wonder and worry about who might have my things now,
Rock Island is a state park located at the tip of Door
County Wisconsin on Lake Michigan.
It's a difficult place to get to to reach the island.
You have to take a car ferry from Ellison, Bay to Washington
Island, drive across Washington Island to Jackson Harbor.
Then take a pedestrian-only ferry to Rock Island.
No, vehicles are bikes are allowed on Rock Island.
Even though the island is relatively small about 975
Acres, it has an interesting history. in the early 1600s it
was inhabited by a tribe of Potawatomi, Native Americans, as
well as a small fishing Village of European settlers, The two
groups did not trust each other and had a few bad encounters
that almost led to violence. But for the most part, they
lived peacefully together. By the 1640s, the Potawatomi had
migrated to other parts of Wisconsin.
Shortly after the Potawatomi left, the island some settlers
from the fishing Village reported, seeing a new group of
people, there they seem to be more white settlers but they
wore strange clothes and kept to themselves.
No one from the fishing Village was ever able to speak with
these newcomers or even find where they were living.
It was around this time. That strange things started
happening in the village Several animals, possibly pigs or
chickens kept by the settlers were found slaughtered and it
seemed their blood had been used to make markings on some of the
buildings. On a different night.
A building used for preserving, meat burned, down the villagers.
Believed these acts were done by the new people on the island and
searched thoroughly, including the wooded inland area, but
never found a single person. These strange occurrences seem
to stop soon after the search and of the other newcomers were
ever seen again. In 1836, the Potawatomi
Lighthouse was built on the northern part of the island.
After construction was finished, the light house was inspected
and it was reported that the material of which the light
house and dwelling are made are of the best quality and that the
work is done. In a substantive and workmanlike
manner. On December 19th. 1837 David E
Corbin was appointed the first Keeper of the light only three
years later in 1840, despite the apparent, quality of the
lighthouse Corbin complained that plaster was beginning to
fall off and some sort of liquid ooze.
Through cracks leaving the house.
Constantly damn Corbin was alone.
Most of the time at the Lighthouse, and some visitors
said he would stare at a certain wall and sometimes spoke vaguely
of other visitors. In 1845, after eight years of
relative Solitude and inspector visited Corbin at the
Lighthouse. While Corbin was fulfilling his
duties. The inspector noted he was
acting strangely. The official report says the
inspector ordered Corbin to take a 25-day leave of absence to
find a wife to live with him. However, some believe the
inspector was startled by corbyn's, mental state brought
on by Years of Solitude and thought it best for him to spend
some time away from the island. In 1852, Corbin reportedly fell
ill and died that December in the lighthouse.
He was buried in a small Cemetery just south of the
lighthouse, the next Lighthouse Keeper all.
So reported a surprisingly quick, deterioration of the
lighthouse friends who visited him said, he spoke of seeing
strange things in the house at night, but he wouldn't elaborate
in 1858 after only 22 years of service, the original light
house was torn down and a new one was built from that point on
Lighthouse, Keepers were required to have an assistant
keeper or a family living with them.
No further strange occurrences were noted in the light house
logbook outside of strong storms and occasional shipwrecks,
except on January 20th, 1876. The Keeper at the time named
bets reported, seeing two men attempting to row to the
mainland from Washington Island. A terrible storm came up shortly
after their departure and they never reached their destination.
Over three months later on May 3rd, 1876 Betts wrote. the two
men who were lost last January, have been seen several times
once, from, Caney Lighthouse, and once from jacksonport, The
men were apparently frozen stiff and sitting upright in the boat.
Among a mass of ice at last count.
They were still adrift. There is not much hope that they
will be found and buried. By 1900, most of rock Islands,
inhabitants left for better. Fishing areas on Lake Michigan.
In 1910. A successful business owner and
inventor Chester Thorson purchased all of the island
except for the land occupied by the Light House in the North.
He used the island as a private summer Retreat from his business
in Chicago. Thorson is responsible for the
unique and mystifying buildings and structures that are still on
the island. Today, on the south end, he
built a giant stone hall with a boat house on the lower level, a
stone water tower was on the east side of the island and an
imposing. Wooden gate was constructed on
the West End. The Great Hall was used to store
Thorson's immense book collection.
He had over 11,000 books and its rumored.
He possessed some very rare books on the occult.
Thorderson died of heart, failure on January, 6th, 1945
though, some have speculated. He saw something that scared him
to death. I couldn't find any writings
from thorderson, that mentioned him experiencing anything
strange on the island. After his death, multiple
churches in universities were interested in his book
collection, but he had willed it to the University of
Wisconsin-Madison, providing that, they purchase it for
$300,000 dollars which they did. Some of this history is hard to
find on line, but there are a couple of binders in the Great
Hall that document much of it. Thorson's, personal papers are
housed in The Archives of the State Historical Society of
Wisconsin. All of this history is meant to
provide some context for experiences, I've had directly
or indirectly on Rock Island. In August of 2021, I took my
first and last trip there. After taking two Ferry rides, I
arrived on the island at about 2 p.m.
I had booked the remote campsite e.
A backpacking site a little over a mile from the dock.
I took my time hiking out to the site, to enjoy the scenery and
took a couple of breaks, because of my heavy pack.
I was definitely packed more for camping than for hiking.
I reached my sight set up. My tent, got everything
situated, and started Gathering sticks and driftwood from the
beach for a fire. On my third trip, back from the
beach before I returned to my site I heard a single
high-pitched squeal coming from the forest.
It didn't sound close, but it was such an unusual noise that I
stopped in my tracks and waited a good 30 seconds to see if it
would happen again. It didn't.
So, I went back to my site and began getting a fire started.
The remote site on Rock Island are well-spaced out.
Sites C D and E are grouped together but there's probably a
100 yards between each. There isn't a real Trail,
connecting the three sights directly.
But enough people have walked along the ridge.
That there is an obvious path as I was arranging sticks in my
fire. Ring something caught my eye.
Fairly far away. Maybe near sight d or a bit
farther. A person was running in my
direction. My first thought was that's odd
because there isn't really a proper Trail there.
Then I assumed something must be wrong in this person needed
help. As they got a bit closer I
thought it might be a woman in loose, gray clothes, maybe a
hoodie but the person was still too far away to see details.
I quickly stood up from my crouching position and just then
I heard that high-pitched squeal.
Again, it was behind me much closer this time.
Startled, I turned around and scan the trees for a few
seconds, but didn't see or hear anything.
I turned back around, knowing the runner, must be getting
close, but now they were gone. I stood there, scanning the
trees but saw no one. I was confused and froze for a
few seconds. It was very strange, but I
reasoned that it was just a fellow camper from sightsee or
D. Maybe running to the pit toilet.
That was a couple hundred yards west of the sights.
I tried to forget about it, but it bothered me.
I really did not like that squeal and it gave me a strange
feeling. I forced myself to let it go and
started my fire. I had a quick meal and a couple
of adult beverages then decided to take a short walk.
I hadn't seen sights C or D yet so I thought I would check them
out and see if anyone was camping nearby.
Site D was empty. I saw the path that led from
that site to the main trail in pit toilet which made me less
uneasy about the runner I figured it was someone from
sightsee who took a weird path. It still didn't make perfect
sense, since I should have seen them but it made me feel better.
I continued to cite sea and saw there was a tent setup.
I didn't want to bother anyone, but I decided to introduce
myself as a neighbor from sight, e to see if anyone looked like
the person I had seen running. I walked up and there was a
couple sitting at the picnic table.
Neither looked like the runner. I introduced myself, they
introduced themselves. They were probably in their
mid-30s, very nice, and both seemed to be quietly drunk.
I didn't ask about the runner or the squealing noise, thought it
might be weird. So, I just wished them a good
night and headed back to my tent.
When I got back, I had a cigar and a few more drinks.
It got dark and it started as a perfect night.
The sky was clear. And the stars were brilliant.
I felt better about the day and decided to get some sleep.
It had been a long day so I fell asleep.
Almost immediately. Around 2:30 am, I was woken by a
huge. Boom of thunder.
It started pouring, the wind picked up and the temperature
dropped. I love camping in the rain but
not in a lightning storm. A pretty big storm rolled in and
I started to worry the wind whipped at my tent and the
ground shook from thunder and lightning.
I felt very exposed out there in a tent.
The storm lasted about an hour before becoming a light steady
drizzle. I was just starting to fall back
asleep when I heard the squeal again.
I opened my eyes wide in the dark and lay there silently.
There was another squeal louder and it was pretty close.
I knew there were no truly dangerous animals on Rock
Island, deer and porcupine's, but no bears are wolves.
But that knowledge didn't help. Something about that squeal on
settled me. I call it a squeal because
that's the best I can describe it.
It sounded like a pig, squeal an injured or angry pig.
I kept lying there and then heard footsteps outside my tent.
It was still raining, so the sound was partially masked, but
it definitely sounded like something.
What large an animal or a human walking around.
I sat up and pulled out a knife, just to feel better.
In my head, I kept telling myself.
It's just an animal. There's nothing here that can
hurt you. I listened as the footsteps
moved away, from my tent. I sat there still holding the
knife for maybe 10 minutes without hearing anything else.
I started to think it's fine. It was just an animal, you're
being silly and you need to sleep.
I was about to lie back down when there was a very loud
squeal right outside my tent. It felt like my heart.
Stopped a shiver, went down my spine.
My heart started pounding so hard that my entire body pulsed
and I felt it in my ears. It took all my courage but I
managed to force out. Get out of here.
I didn't shout but I tried to sound a Stern and threatening as
I could. I heard no more squeals or
footsteps that night. But I couldn't sleep.
I sat there for about an hour then laid down.
Eventually, the rain stopped and I stayed there until the sun
came up. I kept reassuring myself that I
was being ridiculous and it had to be an animal.
It was probably 7 a.m. when I decided I had to step outside my
tent. As soon as I did, I saw that my
picnic table had been flipped upside down So surprisingly I
felt calm and thought. Okay, that's enough.
I'm leaving the island today, I checked around and nothing else
seemed out of place. I eventually reasoned that maybe
the wind had blown the table over during the storm.
It still seemed odd given how heavy the table was and that I
didn't hear it flip, but that explanation made some sense.
I made some cold, instant coffee how to bite to eat and started
to feel better about everything. Then I decided to go for a hike.
I admit I get easily scared when I am camping alone in the woods,
maybe that's natural. But after having coffee and food
and seeing the sun, I realize that nothing I'd seen or heard
was outright unexplainable other than losing some sleep.
I was still enjoying myself The main reason I came to Rock
Island was to hike. The Seven Mile author, since
loop trail, which has a lot of interesting sights.
Close to my site is the water tower.
I have no idea how it originally worked or why it had to be a
tower, but it's an impressive building with a fireplace that
looked like someone had recently used it.
A little farther down, the trail was a cemetery where two sisters
and a few others are buried. Its believed there are more
unmarked Graves there, likely from the old fishing Village,
the island has three cemeteries one by the beach, where Chester
thorderson is buried one on the eastern part of the island where
the Two Sisters, rest, and one on the northern part where the
original Lighthouse Keeper, David E Corbin is buried.
There is also, at least one, Potawatomi.
Burial area on the island though.
No one knows exactly where it is.
I continued on the trail until I came to a Scenic Overlook with a
bench. I sat down and drank some water.
I started hearing voices on the trail ahead.
The white couldn't see anyone yet.
The trail bench and the trees were thick.
So I waited to see who would appear as the voice is got
closer. I realized they were not
speaking English but I couldn't place the language.
Both voices were very deep and guttural then deeper in the
woods. I heard a loud quick Rumble
sound. Immediately both of the voices
responded with a higher pitched Rumble.
I smiled a bit thinking, maybe they heard whatever it was and
were playfully mocking it. I stood up, put on my backpack
and walked in their Direction but I never came across them.
The rest of the hike was fine. I visited the cemetery where
David E Corbin is buried. Took a self-guided tour of the
Potawatomi Lighthouse passed, the wooden gate, apparently,
once part of a larger structure walked by the great hall in the
dock visited, some of the other structures and saw thorderson
Cemetery. Then I finished the loop by
returning to my campsite it was a pleasant hike with plenty to
see and not very difficult. The, why was tired?
I walked to sightsee to ask the couple how they'd fared in the
storm but they had already left. I was disappointed because I
really wanted to ask them if they'd heard the squealing
noise. The rest of the evening was
uneventful. I built a fire made some meals.
Had a cigar and some drinks. As soon as it got dark, I was
ready for bed after the previous night's lack of sleep.
I got in my tent and fell asleep quickly.
Maybe three hours later. I woke up Suddenly fully alert.
Nothing seemed to have caused me to wake up but I felt something
was wrong. I sat up and it's hard to
explain but a feeling of complete dread washed over me.
It was unlike anything I've ever felt.
It felt like there was something in the tent with me and I could
sense. It was enraged, filled with
anger, and hatred. For me, it felt like something
terrible was about to happen and I was powerless to stop it.
I started shivering uncontrollably.
There was a strong smell of garbage or rotten meat growing.
So intense, I thought I might vomit, but I was too Frozen in
fear to move. I had never felt so vulnerable.
My mind seemed to accept that whatever was coming even death.
Would at least be a relief. Then I blacked out.
I assume my passed out because the next thing I remember is
waking up around 8 a.m. When I woke up, I was lying on
top of my sleeping bag, not in it.
And my legs were in an awkward position.
My left leg straight my right leg bent.
So my foot was against my left knee.
My heart started pounding, but I kept telling myself, it was just
a dream. I'm leaving right now.
I packed everything quickly and made my way toward the dock to
catch the first boat off the island.
Since the first boat from Washington Island, doesn't
arrive until about 10:30. A.m.
I had some time to kill near the Great Hall.
And doc I wanted off the island badly, but felt a bit calmer
being out of the woods and seeing other people.
I sat on a bench east of the dock and lit a cigar just to
occupy my mind and keep from thinking about the night before.
After a few minutes, I was startled by someone behind me
saying hi. I jumped embarrassed and the
person came around saying, sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to
scare you. I saw you smoking and came over
to ask if you had a lighter. I felt dumb and told him I was
just tired from not sleeping. Well, I handed him my lighter.
He thanked me, lit, a cigarette and gave the lighter back.
We started chatting about normal things.
He said he was from the Madison area, talked about the storms
and mentioned, he was an outdoorsy guy with plans to move
to Washington Island. It was a nice normal
conversation that took my mind off the night.
I had he seemed like a decent person then naturally.
He asked, which site I had been staying at I told him sight e
for the last two nights. He said he usually books saiti
but I must have reserved it before him.
So he had booked sight d and instead, I was surprised because
I had seen no tent or anything at site.
D. The, two times I passed by He
explained that he comes to the island a few times a year.
And while you have to reserve a site, he actually camps in
different areas on the island. I asked where he camps and he
said he usually camps in the East Cemetery but also likes to
camp in the woods south of the lighthouse He told me, he hikes
about halfway down the Fernwood Trail, then heads North into the
woods and finds a spot to camp. he said that once he found the
ruins of a small log house in those woods and he wants to Camp
inside at some day, At this point, I started to reconsider
him and wanted to change the subject.
But then he asked if I had heard the screeches in the woods I
paused knowing he meant the squealing.
I'd heard. I said yes and asked if he knew
what it was. He took a second to answer and I
saw his expression change. Like he was deciding whether to
share a secret. With no emotion in his voice he
said, matter of factly. A demon lives on this island.
Under other circumstances, I would have laughed at all but
not after my experience. He must have seen the anxiety
and fear on my face because he let out a quick laugh. he asked
if I had seen anything that night, I told him I hadn't and
he stared at me like he was trying to figure something out.
I felt he knew I had experienced something.
I wanted the conversation to end, but then he told me, he saw
something in the cemetery that night.
His face and mood changed like he was going to confide in me.
I really didn't want to ask what he'd seen but I knew he wanted
me to. So I asked my voice shaking.
I could tell he changed his mind about telling me, he looked at
me with empathy and said what he saw was hard to explain, but if
I was already afraid of the screeching, I shouldn't go near
the cemetery. I didn't respond right away,
then he said four words with no contacts.
Keepers of the flame. I looked at my cigar and saw the
ash was long. I put it out, told him I was
going to wait by the dock and he nodded as I walked away.
He called Hey and when I turned around he just said don't come
back here. I don't know if that was a
warning or a friendly suggestion, but I certainly
wasn't planning to return to Rock Island.
When I got home, I looked up keepers of the flame in
connection with Rock Island. I found three possible
references. The name Potawatomi can be
translated to keepers of the flame.
The lighthouse Keepers were sometimes called keepers of the
flame. and there was all a 19th century, cult said to visit the
island calling themselves the same I know hundreds of people
visit Rock Island every year and have a great time camping hiking
and exploring Thorson's buildings.
My humble suggestion is this do not go to Rock Island.
I Wake Up Before Sunrise. Same as always and slip on my
boots. There's a strange heavy
heaviness in The Farmhouse are but I chalk it up to early
morning grogginess and pushed the feeling aside. outside fog,
settles over the fields, blurring the boundary between
our pastures and the foothills, Normally that view, calms me the
hush before chores begin. But today, I can't shake the
prickling sense that something is off.
I head toward the barn to check the feed and water troughs at
first glance. Everything looks normal, the
cattle huddled together in the early morning.
Chill a light Breeze stirring stray pieces of hay, around my
ankles. Still my nerves are on edge.
It's been months since the first cow disappeared with no
explanation. You'd think time would soothe my
anxiety, but the lack of answers.
Only stirs it up more. I remember that awful morning
when we searched every Halo and ridge hoping to find tracks or
any sign of a struggle. instead all we discovered were those
flattened circles in the grass as if something massive had
pressed down from above and two vehicles, both inexplicably
drained of gas parked right by those Eerie patterns We told
ourselves it had to be some kind of prank or a freak coincidence,
but the memory still makes my teeth clenched.
I shake off the thoughts and get back to my chores, counting
heads, checking fence lines, making sure they're having been
any breakouts The herds seems fine.
And as the sun climbs the fog rolls, back to reveal the entire
Farm. I know every inch of this land
by heart, I grew up on it but lately walking these fields
unsettles. Me Some nights.
I Circle the property three or four times to ensure
everything's locked up. I tell myself, it's just caution
but deep down, I recognize it as dread after a brief talk with my
husband, we decide to keep a close, watch around the spot
where the first cow vanished. It's near the property line
where a few ragged cedar posts and Rusty wire.
Mark our boundary no, recent vehicle troubles have cropped
up, but I still find myself scanning the ground, half
expecting to see those flattened Impressions again, Nothing shows
up. Which somehow feels even more
ominous like the farm is holding back some vital clue.
By midday, the sun is brutal and the cows lays in the shade.
I Linger by the fence scanning for anything.
Any sign that might explain what happened, but it's quiet too
quiet. Normally I'd Savor a day free
from trouble, but right now I'd give anything for a simple issue
like a sick, calf or a broken fence.
At least those make sense and can be fixed.
My husband waves me over From The Far Side of the field.
The anxiety on his face mirrors my own.
And neither of us needs words to say, we're still haunted by all
this. We finished chores in silence.
Each wondering how something. So impossible could happen here
on land. That was always our Haven.
Evening arrives, painting the sky with orange and pink
streaks. I lug a bale of hay to the
feeding area. Mentally reviewing every Theory.
I've heard rustlers sinkholes mountain lions, none of it adds
up. We never found Footprints tire
tracks or any trace of a culprit.
It's as if that cow simply blinked out of existence, After
dinner, I Linger on the porch. The yard light casts, a weak
glow, that Fades into the dark Fields Beyond.
My gaze drifts to the tree line. Normally, the rustle of leaves
at night is soothing but tonight at sets my nerves on high alert,
I can't shake the feeling something out there.
Doesn't belong. Refusing to let fear win, I
walked down the steps and stand in the driveway, peering into
the dimness. My rational mind insists,
there's nothing out there that it's just my imagination.
Still tension squeezes my chest compelling me to check the
Horizon again and again. Finally, I force myself, back
inside, fighting the urge to stand guard Till Dawn in The
Farmhouse. I tried to unwind but my
thoughts spin in circles. How did that cow vanish?
So completely and is whatever took it still around.
When I climb into bed, I promised myself to stay
vigilant, no matter how paranoid it makes me.
Sometimes not knowing is its own special torment.
And right now, I'm drowning in it.
I had been convincing myself. We were fine that the tension on
the farm was just a leftover reaction from the first
disappearance. But the moment, my husband told
me, my favorite cow was missing. I felt a deeper dread sink in I
had raised her from a calf and she never strayed far as
specially not from her own baby yet, there was her calf bleeding
and helpless circles. No sign of its mother, my sister
showed up soon after she is the family's Fearless One, always
ready for a late night drive or trekking through a thorny Halo
to find a lost calf. Even she looked shaken when she
arrived, we grabbed flash lights piled into the truck with my
husband and spent hours scouring every corner of the property.
Waiting through. Muddy Creeks climbing steep
ridges crawling under fences nothing It was as though, the
cow had been lifted straight off the pasture.
By evening, we were exhausted. My husband headed back toward
the barn, thinking we might have overlooked something closer to
home. My sister and I tackled the
strip of woods between two Fields the inbetween.
We call it because it's technically someone else's land
jutting into hours like a mismatched puzzle piece.
Rusted barbed wire runs along the boundary but our cows
sometimes push through weak spots if they're determined.
We parked at the fence line as the sun dipped low, Shadow
stretching across the grass. My sister hesitated before
climbing over, which is unusual for her.
I tried to joke that she was getting squeamish but my own
voice sounded shaky. Eventually, she hauled herself
over and we pressed into the trees.
The deeper, we went the more wrong.
Everything felled. Birds and leaves that should
have been rustling. Were silent and oppressive.
Hush wait on us. I called out my cows name half
laughing at the notion. She dancer my sister tried to
speak but her voice, sounded muffled, like the air itself was
resisting her words, she looked pale struggling just to breathe.
A few yards later, we stopped coaled.
It felt like my nerves were humming with electricity my
sister gripped. My arm Whispering that she
couldn't even hear me clearly though, we were only inches
apart. At the same time, I picked up on
a low vibration, more pressure than sound.
The Shadows around us seem to shift whenever I focused on
them. Without Really discussing it.
We both knew we had to leave. My sister turned first and I
stumbled after her slipping on damp leaves and tripping over
hidden roots. The fence seemed miles away as
if the woods were stretching out to keep us there.
By the time, we finally saw the barbed wire, I was shaking and
my sister looked, as white as a sheet.
Crossing back onto our own field, felt like gulping fresh
air. After nearly drowning.
We stood there catching our breath neither of us willing to
speak about what we just experienced.
It was too bizarre, too heavy. All we knew was that, these
Woods didn't want us inside and we had two missing cows to prove
it. Still, no, real explanation.
Only the horrible certainty that it was worse than we'd ever
imagined. When we rejoined my husband, we
skipped details about the suffocating atmosphere.
We just told him we'd found no broken branches, no Footprints
nothing. He looked grim.
The sun was almost gone and we knew better than to hang around
those trees after Dark. My sister decided to head home.
I lingered in the yard letting the dim light play tricks.
On my eyes while I stared at the distant Tree Line, another cow
was missing and now we had first-hand evidence of something
lurking, in those woods something that could still the
forest itself, I promised myself.
I wouldn't stop digging until I found a real answer.
If I didn't, we might lose more than just cattle.
Even after I went inside, I couldn't settle.
My mind kept circling back to the way those woods felt alive
as if the trees themselves had pushed us away.
By the time I crawled into bed, the house was eerily silent.
The usual nighttime, murmurs of the farm cows shifting wind
rattling. The barn only made me more
uneasy. every Creak sounded menacing, every shadow
threatening I Rose Before Dawn not that I had slept.
I poured coffee and stared out the window at the dark fields.
The orphaned calf was pacing near the fence.
Letting out sorrowful cries, that tore up my heart, it looked
weaker, and no matter how many times I looked away.
I kept glancing back praying for a mother that would never
return. That morning, my husband and I
gathered family parents siblings cousins from down the road,
hoping to devise a plan. They arrived shortly after
sunrise and though it felt strange to meet.
So formally it reminded us how serious things had become.
Two cows missing, no leads and a sense of dread clinging to our
land. Everyone offered theories,
thieves Predators old folklore about lights, dancing in the
hollers or people Vanishing Into the Woods.
Normally our family of ghost stories, but desperation was
making us consider anything by evening.
I stood on the back porch, scanning The Horizon for
movement, it felt like the farm itself was holding its breath
waiting. I wanted to March straight to
the fence again, but my legs refused.
Whether it was fear or common sense, I don't know.
I pretended, I tried to sleep. Inside, I checked every door and
window again and again peering into the yard lights glow.
The darkness Beyond seemed endless and my heart hammered
half, expecting to catch sight of something slipping across the
pasture. I hated feeling so powerless.
In a place, I once loved. eventually I forced myself to
sit in the dark living room, letting my eyes, adjust was it
foolish to keep poking around knowing something dangerous
might be out there. But I couldn't just let it be.
Two missing cows and the stifling Menace In the Woods
were reason enough to keep searching.
I resolved that in the morning I had rope in more help if I had
to know more tiptoeing around even if it meant heading back
into those trees with nothing but flash lights and a good dose
of fear, I needed real answers. I must have dozed off at some
point only to jerk away at a distant Rumble.
Thunder, maybe, or something else.
I never heard any storm. My pulse thundered, as I scan
the living room Shadows. eventually, I whispered a few
calming words to myself and curled tighter under a blanket
Don felt impossibly far away yet by Sunrise the farm looked
almost serene. The calf laced, still its energy
draining by the hour. I gathers for another search a
mixture of determination and Dread boiling in my stomach.
This Land once a place of comfort.
Now, felt like a battlefield and I was tired of waiting for the
next strike. I tried to imagine what might
solve the mystery, maybe we'd find a hidden Ravine or a gap in
the fence. Or maybe the truth was darker
than any of us, dared guests. Either way, I was ready to face
it for the Farm's sake and for hours, never did.
I expect, I'd walk away from this property.
It's been in my family for Generations.
A sight of Summer, picnics and Lively catalogs a piece of land.
I believed would always be mine. But these last few days changed,
everything. It started that morning right
after we agreed on one final, search of the woods, my sister,
my husband. And I prepared.
Like we were heading into hostile territory, flash lights,
boots, walking sticks. We didn't talk much.
We knew it was risky, maybe foolish, but we also knew we
needed closure. We crossed the fields at first
light, due soaking our pants. The missing cows calf, followed
us to the fence bleeding mournfully.
It was losing weight and stumbling and I wished I could
do more than leave extra feet yet.
We had to see if anything in those woods could explain how
two cows had vanished. Stepping over the barbed wire,
felt like entering another world.
The air was thick, the trees unnaturally tall and the forest
floor strangely quiet. My sister LED with her
flashlight. Cutting a path through brambles.
My instinct screamed. This was a terrible idea but
none of us wanted to be the first to back out.
The farther we went the more we noticed faint pops like distant,
static echoing through the trees.
At first, we saw no real Clues. No animal remains no Footprints,
no sign of disturbance. But the sense of being watched
wouldn't let up. Then we stumbled on a small
clearing where the leaves were scorched in a neat Circle as
though blasted by intense Heat. My sister fell to charge in the
air and backed away. My husband and I stepped closer
but we found only charred leaves and a suffocating heaviness that
made it hard to breathe. We stayed longer than we should
have flashlights. Moving and jittery arcs our
hearts thudding in our ears. The silence grew crushing.
Not a single bird or Breeze, to break it.
We shared a look that said we had to leave immediately.
Turning to go. We realized the trees seemed to
have shifted as if blocking our way out.
My husband moved first flashlight, trembling in his
grip, until a sharp crack of a branch froze, Us in place.
The Shadows seemed to pulse. My sister urged us onward.
So we pushed through the brush trying not to panic with each
step. I've heard stories about people
seeing horrifying shapes or floating lights in the
wilderness, but we never glimpsed anything solid.
Instead it was the pervasive sense of something closing in.
Branches, snapped leaves rustled but there was nothing to see.
It felt like we were being guided or hearded out.
I kept checking over my shoulder terrified.
One of us would vanish if I looked away too long.
Stumbling back out onto our own land was a shock like bursting
through the surface after being underwater.
We gasped for air and the sunlight felled unnaturally
bright. My sister almost collapsed and
my husband steady her. We all stared at the tree line
expecting to see a figure lurking but there was only the
still wall of trees. We made our decision.
Right then no debate. No argument.
We hurried to the house Hart's, hammering and legs weak, even in
broad daylight. Everything seemed to go ghostly
after a rushed talk. We agreed.
We couldn't stay waiting for the next disappearance or the next
moment of sheer Terror. The farm had become a place of
dread. The rest of the day was a blur
packing. Our Essentials calling family
arranging for the remaining cattle.
Nobody opposed, our plan most admitted, they too felt the
looming threat. A few relative stayed behind
long, enough to sell or move the herd.
Walking away from generations of family.
History, cut deep but not as deeply as facing whatever was in
those woods. By Sunset, my sister, my husband
and I were in our vehicles driving off in a small Convoy.
We didn't dare look back at the house or fields.
We had once cherished. My hands Shook on the steering
wheel and a voice in my head warned me not to glance in the
rearview mirror afraid. I'd see something I could never
forget. We barely spoke on that drive,
but our unspoken promise was clear.
We weren't coming back. Fear, survival Instinct,
whatever you want to call it. We had reached our limit That
Old Farm could keep its Secrets whatever.
Lurked there had claimed the land for itself and we were done
fighting I don't know if anyone else will ever set foot on that
property, or if future owner's will discover what lies hidden
in those trees. All I know is that we left
alive, but shaken searching for any piece.
We could find maybe these memories will fade someday but
right now, I still feel the echo of that oppressive silence.
And I have no intention of letting it drag me back.
I know, I'm just a random person on Reddit.
So there isn't any reason for you to take my word at face
value. nonetheless, I swear on the life of my family that every
word is true, This is going to be a long post, but I want to be
as detailed as possible about this event.
I'm a 32 year old man from, and currently living in Cumberland
County, New Jersey. This location puts me about 45
minutes away from Philadelphia, and about 45 minutes away from
the Atlantic Ocean while being only about 15 minutes away from
the Delaware Bay, After High School.
I joined the army as an intelligence analyst for a
while. When I got out, I moved to New
York City and worked as a project manager for a
construction company until I met my wife.
We decided to move back to New Jersey, to be closer to our
families, especially since she was pregnant with our daughter.
That's just some background on me.
This happened in October of 2018, it was about 11:45 at
night. And I decided to sit on my front
steps to smoke a couple of cigarettes before trying to fall
asleep. Everyone else in the house was
already sleeping. It was a pretty clear night with
not many clouds in the sky, but there was some fog on the
ground. As I was smoking, I was looking
at the fog and to me it seemed like there was movement in it.
Almost as if there were invisible or camouflage things
out there that I wouldn't have seen if not for the fog.
While watching the fog, I noticed a white truck that had
driven by twice already. I could hear a man in a woman
yelling at each other. The truck stopped at the stop
sign in front of my house and the woman got out screaming at
the man. Then slammed the door, he drove
off fast and she proceeded to walk into the woods across the
street from me, which was strange because there's nothing
back there except for blue holes, until you reach the bay.
If I walk straight out my front door, there are no houses or
civilization. Only trees and those artificial
Lakes. Blue holes left over from Sand
plants until you hit the Delaware Bay.
About five minutes after the woman walked into the woods.
Things went from weird to absolutely unbelievably scary
and strange the most reality shattering event that has ever
happened to me. I was still looking at the
movement. I'd been seeing in the fog when
I heard a very loud noise coming from the woods.
It sounded like metal being ripped apart.
There isn't a good comparison for this sound because it was so
unearthly. I'm sure it wasn't natural.
That sound lasted about 10 to 15 seconds, then abruptly stopped
and was replaced by another noise, which I felt more than I
heard. Imagine being aware of a huge
sound happening near you, but it's at a frequency.
Your ears can't quite pick up. That's the best way I can
describe it. This sound remained constant
through the rest of the experience.
At this point, I'll probably lose some people.
And I know how crazy this sounds, but as I was getting
used to the sound. It felt like something reached
out to me mentally without words, conveying a feeling of
calm and to heads up or warning about what was about to happen.
It felt as if it was checking my reaction to what I was currently
experiencing like a security check.
While I felt this sense of calm, I noticed a light in the sky
that seemed to have risen Out of the Woods, maybe five or six
miles away. It was just a ball of light in
the distance but somehow I knew it was coming toward me, even
though it wasn't moving very fast right after noticing the
light in the sky, I got more freaked out than I have ever
been in my life. In the woods across the street
from me. No, more than 50 yards away,
these orbs of light started to appear.
I could see some flicker into existence.
They were all white lights, which didn't illuminate the area
around them as you would expect from flash lights.
There were probably 12 to 16 of these orbs and they moved in a
totally smooth manner. Besides the trail to get into
the woods, the area is dense and filled with Thorn bushes.
So it just wouldn't be possible for people to move where these
lights were moving, let alone do it.
So smoothly, I'm positive. They weren't people with
flashlights because of the terrain and the characteristics
of the orbs themselves. I watched the orbs move around
for about a minute trying to make sense of what I was seeing.
Then I looked back up at the sky and saw a craft coming
practically, right toward me, only about 1,000 yards away by
that point, I was going back and forth between watching the orbs
on the ground in the craft, which I could see more clearly
now. It was flying very low, maybe
only three and a half to four stories off the ground.
I could see the path it was taking and it was going to pass
in front of me at an angle where I see both underneath and the
side at the same time. The craft was a single story
dull, black rectangle. From underneath, I could see
that it was made of three smaller, rectangular panels that
fit together to form a larger rectangle.
I very clearly saw these three panels. estimating sizes is
harder, but I would say it was about 35 yards long and 20 yards
across underneath there were lights flashing in a pattern
cycling, one way. And then back the other way, In
the moment, I thought the craft was signaling to the orbs on the
ground. It made no sound at all.
I only heard that same buzzing and humming noise that I felt
more than I heard. While it was in front of me.
It moved really slowly at a speed.
I don't think a plane with normal propulsion could manage
while staying airborne. I took my eyes off the craft for
just a moment to look at the orbs again.
And when I looked back up, the craft was gone.
For whatever reason seeing it vanished like that made the
reality of what I was witnessing hit home.
I got really scared, especially since my daughter wife and mom
were all inside. No.
More than 50 feet from this craziness.
So I went in and locked the doors.
I felt I might have investigated further if it were just my life
at risk, but I wasn't willing to take that chance with my family.
I might have been paranoid at this point, but I felt like I
was being watched for the next two hours.
I didn't experience any lost time the entire event happened
over 20 to 30 minutes. Looking back on this event, I
questioned what was going on with the white truck and the
woman who walked into the woods at the beginning.
I've also done some research and found that there are quite a few
reports of people. Seeing a Glimmer Man in the
woods which makes me think of the movement I saw in the fall.
Where I live as a very active area for UFO phenomena, which
makes sense if something wanted access to major cities like
Philadelphia, New York, City, Baltimore and DC.
What could be a better place to hide than almost inaccessible?
1,000 foot deep lakes in the middle of the Woods?
I know this was a very long post but I wanted to be thorough.
I'd really like to hear what you all think about this and if
anyone has had a similar experience or knows somebody who
has the following is a story that happened to me about two
years ago, I couldn't explain it then and I can't explain it.
Now I live in Oregon City Oregon, a short drive south of
Portland. I'm on the outskirts somewhere
between suburban and rural housing.
I have neighbors but they're not exactly next door.
I was 19 at the time of this story.
I used to have a problem with sleep.
I don't know what it was, but I would get mentally crippling
anxiety and I would go for a walk to call my mind.
I live on a single Lane Road that follows a stream through
the woods. So the scenery mixed with the
Quiet trickle of water was always quite calming.
It was summertime and it was a particularly rough night for me.
I remember telling my dad, I was going for a walk as I slipped on
my shoes and hurried out. I still recall the worried look
on his face as I tried to escape my own mental panic.
My late night walks were becoming more frequent and I
knew it concerned him. Nevertheless, I shut the door
behind me and proceeded into the dark.
I remember it being a clear night, but I don't recall seeing
Stars. The moon must have been full
because I could see the road without a light, but I don't
remember actually seeing the moon either.
I just started walking talking to myself about everything that
had my anxiety spiked. I'm sure I looked insane
rambling out loud but it sometimes helped me process my
issues. From my home to the main road is
about a mile. I was about two thirds of the
way there. When I heard something rustle in
the bushes to my right. This wasn't uncommon, I had
encountered dear raccoon's a bobcat and even a few coyotes on
my walks. Still, I like to know what was
around, so I pulled out my phone and switched on the light.
For contacts, there's a hill to my right that slopes upward.
That's where I heard the noise. To my left is about a 10 foot,
drop down to the creek. I shined my light into the
bushes to see what I was dealing with.
Usually animals either freeze or run off, which helps me figure
out what they are. But there was nothing no
movement at all. Suddenly my hair stood on end, I
felt scared tense and realized I should have been able to hear
the creek trickling over the Rocks, but I couldn't something
was clearly wrong. I heard a branch snap in the
bushes again, I moved my light back and saw two small, red
lights like eyes looking right at me.
I shifted my phone to see if it was a reflection, but it wasn't,
then it started to get closer. I ran.
I freaking ran. I ran in near silence.
I don't know if I screamed, maybe it didn't matter.
I couldn't hear my shoes, hitting the road, my breathing,
or even my heartbeat. All I heard was what sounded
like an animal with human bare feet chasing me.
Some Primal survival Instinct told me to find light something
bigger than my phone's light. My first thought was home where
there's a large barn light out front that illuminates the whole
driveway I ran like hell was on my heels because for all I knew
it was I just remember hearing it, get closer.
It felt like it was toying with me because it's footstep pattern
didn't sound like an all-out Sprint, more like a light
Gallup. It wasn't until I rounded the
last corner and could see the light that it suddenly picked up
speed and started closing in. I sprinted toward the light pole
as fast as I could. I heard its Furious steps come
to an abrupt stop but I didn't turn around.
I practically tackled that tar covered, wooden post clinging to
it. As I waited for the end, waiting
for whatever it was to tear me apart.
It never did. I stayed there for about an hour
in silence, until my phone rang. I had three messages and two
missed calls all from my dad asking where I was I lied and
said I fell asleep in a filled up the road.
Then I noticed, I could hear the world around me again, so I
assumed it was gone. I ran inside the house and
locked the doors. To this day.
I don't walk alone on my road day or night.
I know what you're probably thinking.
It was just your mind playing tricks or it was just an animal.
But Ive seen animals. I know what lives around here?
Whatever this was it's not something I've ever encountered
before this whole experience made me reflect on other strange
incidents out here. Things like couldn't explain a
fully grown deer burned from the inside out.
For instance, the only visible clue was a single spot in its
ribs where the Flesh and Bone had burned through yet.
The rest of it looked perfectly preserved.
There have also been moments where I seem to slip Through
Time I'd set my alarm for 6 a.m. and wait outside for my ride.
For three hours, only to come back inside and find.
It was still just turning 5 a.m. I've seen shadow figures by the
side of the road, there have been a couple of unexplained
deaths. The list goes on.
I'm telling you something strange and terrifying is out
here. Some nights.
I wonder do my doors and windows, really, keep whatever
it is out. Or is it still just toying with
me edit if anyone has any ideas? What the hell I'm dealing with?
Please let me know. Before I start retelling, this
particular experience. I want to preface it with my
reason for posting. This happened some years back
and I have always been quick to push it aside and try to forget
about it, but a conversation I had recently inspired me to
write my story out so that people with more experience in
paranormal or Supernatural phenomenon.
Might tell me what I witnessed if anything.
This all takes place in Northwestern Montana during late
Autumn of 2009. Apologies for any spelling and
grammatical errors. I wrote it all down in one
sitting when I was 17. I moved out of my parents house
and in with a co-worker who I'll call John in his trailer.
We got along well at work. It was actually one of the
better roommate situations I've ever had in terms of
compatibility and we became close friends during that time.
We were roommates until shortly after I turned 18 and some
personal stuff happened with my family.
I ended up moving back in with my parents for a while to help
them cover some bills. It took about three months for
that situation to stabilize and I called this friend up about
moving, back out there. This was the first time I
remember feeling something was off though.
It's been so long that I can't recall the details of the
conversation. There was just a sense of
wrongness that lingered for a while after I'd hung up the
phone. The end result was that I was
welcome to move back in which I expected.
I waited for a day off and another friend who all called
Dave came to help me move Dave was another Dungeons and Dragons
pal from a different group and we were figuring we'd show up
and talk John into a One-Shot session or something.
So, we loaded up all my stuff and drove out there and it was a
nightmare. From the moment, John opened the
door. Everything was wrong.
I won't say John was a clean freak, but he tried to maintain
his space and he'd always insisted we clean up for company
when I was living with him. I stood there open mouth at the
thick layer of dust coating, nearly everything.
The longer I looked around the worse, it got there was a
half-eaten of food turned to mold sitting on the table.
Both sinks in the kitchen were similarly, moldy and the air in
the trailer, staying even beyond what I had expect from moldy
dishes. I was extremely taken aback by
the state of the trailer, but the state of my friend was even
more shocking. He worked at a bank and had
always kept himself clean. But now he looked like a wreck
he'd lost weight. His skin had an unhealthy, waxy
look to it, his hair was overgrown and greasy and his
body odor was terrible. His smell was the first thing
that made me think something was really off about the situation.
I've been playing Dungeons and Dragons and doing other nerd
stuff for a long time, and I'm sorry to say a lot of nerds
don't have the best hygiene practices.
So I've encountered plenty of pungent, body odor, but this was
not the same it was almost the sickly sweet smell of something
dead but not quite I've never smelled anything exactly like it
before or since At this point, in the encounter, I was at a
general level of unease and I didn't want to go into the
trailer, but John invited us in and not wanting to be rude.
I went I figured something crazy had happened while I was away.
John wasn't dating anyone. So I didn't think heartbreak was
the cause and we'd stayed in touch.
After I first moved out. Even when that fell off a bit, I
still heard from mutual friends about the Dungeons and Dragons
sessions. He was attending regardless
something had obviously happened.
So standing there in his Dusty living room with Dave who kept
shooting me sideways. Looks I asked John if everything
was all right. After a full, three seconds of
Silence. He assured me.
Everything was fine. That was it.
He didn't explain the state of his house or anything else.
And what was even weirder was when he said, you guys can crash
out here and then just headed off to the back of the house.
I'd always known him to be a diligent host.
So, this was odd to say the least, though, basically,
nothing was going as I expected or remembered.
So him, ditching Us in the living room of his nasty house
was, maybe the least weird things so far.
This is the part where I am pretty glad Dave was there.
To me, this nasty trailer was still my home.
I lived there for over a year before my three-month, return to
my parents, and I had a sense of belonging that I think, made me
oblivious to things obvious to Dave.
Despite the condition of the place and being left alone by
John, I still hadn't changed my plan of living there.
I set my stuff down and started preparing to clean but Dave
stopped me and began pointing out.
Things I hadn't noticed. The lair of dust was completely
undisturbed across the entire living room and kitchen area
except for a thin track from the front door to the hallway.
Leading to the back of the trailer.
Whispering to me. Dave said Nothing in here has
been used for a long time. And once I really looked around,
I realized he was right. the TV, the computer, the couch, the
chairs, the dining table with its wrote in food, he hadn't
laid a hand on any of it for, at least a month, maybe longer Dave
moving almost as if he were sneaking walked quietly into the
kitchen to inspect, the fridge, He pointed out a few thick
patches of dust on the flatter surfaces of the fridge, but it
was harder to tell on the handle.
The metal handle had some dust but not as much collected.
stepping past Dave, I reached out with one finger and popped
the fridge open I was gagging before I even opened the door
enough for the interior, light to come on.
Throwing my arm, across my face, and Burying my nose, in the
crook of my elbow. I opened the fridge about
halfway It was top to bottom rotten food after a second.
I stepped back Turning Away. Trying not to vomit.
Once I collected myself, Dave showed me a half gallon of milk,
he'd pulled out of the fridge indicating that it had expired.
Three weeks prior personally, I just wanted him to put
everything back and close the door.
I was more or less done playing dust detective.
I basically Shrugged off everything up to that point.
Cleared some dust from the couch got my lap top out and connected
to the Wi-Fi. We'd always paid for after a
while. Dave joined me, and we played
World of Warcraft for a bit. Eventually, he told me he'd hang
out for the night because he was my ride.
And taking him back to his place and then driving back again, was
a 90 minute round trip. To be clear, I would have taken
him home. Anyway, I wouldn't blame anyone
for not wanting to stay in a room with a giant stack of moldy
dishes in the sink and a fridge full of rotten food.
We played games for the next few hours, and John never made a
sound. At one point, Dave asked me
where the bathroom was and I told him it was at the far end
of the hallway. Next to John's bedroom. a low
level of unease had been building since John first
answered the door and was getting worse the longer we
stayed Normally, I wouldn't walk with a friend to the bathroom,
but it felt like the right thing to do this time.
So I led Dave down the hallway, flipping on the hallway, light
as we went and ended up with dust on my fingers from the
switch. By this point, I was actually
getting annoyed. I don't normally have bad
seasonal allergies. But all the dust we'd been
stirring up, had my nose itchy and half plugged.
So, on the way down, I figured I'd Point Dave to the bathroom
and then knock on John's bedroom door to confront him about the
condition of the house. But halfway down the hall way, I
noticed a hole in the floor. Outside the bathroom door.
A jagged hole through which I could see the dirt cobwebs and
shredded black plastic that had once covered the insulation.
I sighed exasperated by the weirdness.
I directed Dave into the bathroom and walked to the end
of the hall. Way, where John's room was I
briefly wondered if he was asleep as no, light was coming
from under his door. The sun was setting but it gets
dark pretty early that time of year.
Annoyed, I knocked loudly. And after a few seconds, I heard
a grunt from inside. I popped the door opened on the
light. This was when it really started
to sink in how wrong this whole experience felt I glanced around
the room and it was in much the same condition as the rest of
the house. Dust everywhere except for a
small track from the door, to the nearest side of the bed.
The bed itself was terrible, blankets and pillows stained a
deep yellow, almost black and places and John just lay there
with a thousand yards stare fixed on the ceiling.
I completely forgot why I had come to talk to him because
looking directly at him, filled me with a profound fear.
It seemed odd to feel. So afraid in that situation my
sickly looking clearly depressed friend lying on a disgusting
bed, paying no attention to me at all.
John was not an intimidating guy.
He was short a bit chubby and Babyface yet in my gut.
I was afraid of him. I mumbled something about coming
to say goodnight, turned off the light and shut the door.
I turned around to see Dave, kneeling, by the hole in the
floor, which as I write, this makes me wonder how long I stood
there in the doorway. If I had to estimate, maybe only
15 seconds passed from when I left.
Dave to, when I said good night to John yet, he was already out
of the bathroom. As I approached Dave pointed at
the edge of the hole and told me the wood along, the edge was
twisted upward as if the hole had been made from Below.
I wish I could confirm that. I'm including it here because
Dave did say it, but I didn't take the time to inspect it
myself. Right.
Then I was at war with my own sense of fear sparked by being
around John. I just nodded to Dave and said,
we should get back to the living room.
Fast forward a bit. I kind of came to my senses.
Once we were back in the living room and I had reopened my
laptop. My sudden intense fear of John
eased off and we played games for a few more hours before.
Dave said he wanted to rest his eyes We shut everything down.
I settled into a recliner and Dave lay on the couch positions.
So he could keep an eye on the hallway.
I was too uneasy to sleep after seeing John's room, I wouldn't
be living there after all. As much as I disliked living
with my parents, it was preferable to whatever was going
on with John. Quietly, I told Dave that
everything was all wrong and explained.
How from what I knew of John, he would never have let things
reach this point. We weighed the possibilities.
A psychotic break, may be drugs, or as I later thought he might
have been seriously ill. All of those remain possible
explanations for his strange Behavior, but my gut still tells
me, none of them fully, explain it.
After a while we lapsed into silence.
I was just waiting for the sun to come up.
Starting to wonder why we hadn't already left when Dave motioned
with his hand, to get my attention.
He pointed toward the hallway and I turned my head slowly in
the recliner. After maybe 15 seconds of
staring into the dark Hall. Way, I heard a slight Creak a
little while and a few more Creeks later.
I saw John's dark and Silhouettes standing just inside
the hall. Way at the edge of the kitchen
that deep sense of fear started building in me.
Again, the only thing I can compare it to is the time, I
went hiking alone and ran head on into a bear.
Going the opposite way on the trail.
I had bear spray, which I didn't end up using, but it was
terrifying. And honestly, I've never really
enjoyed hiking since. Standing across from that
massive bear with nothing but a can of spray was a terrorist so
deep. It's still gives me goosebumps.
By contrast, I've been face-to-face with plenty of
threatening or crazy people without feeling that same dread.
It's a human threat, if that makes sense.
Seeing John lurking in that hallway inspired a level of
fear. So intense that I have no choice
but to consider unconventional answers for what happened to
him. Because the only comparable gut
feeling of dread I've ever experienced came from facing one
of the largest terrestrial Predators on the planet by
myself on its home turf armed with basically nothing.
There was something deeply wrong, and dangerous.
Going on that. I can't explain analytically,
but my instincts told me I was in danger in a way.
I had never prepared for to fast forward to the end.
We lay there in silence while he lurked in the hallway for hours.
When I asked Dave about it recently, he said it was at
least two hours that John stood there.
Eventually, he crept back down the hallway, to his bedroom,
then quietly and quickly. We Gather our things snuck out
to my car and left. I followed up a bit with our
mutual friends afterward but got the same story from all of them.
One day, he just stopped coming around.
Later, I heard from someone who spoke to his parents that he had
called them and said he was leaving town.
As far as I know, no one has seen or heard from him since
I've mostly tried to forget the whole thing ever happened.
Although, for a while, I had panic attacks whenever I thought
about it. I realized nothing overtly
paranormal took place, so I'm sorry if this is posted in the
wrong place. But my gut tells me that
something well, out of the ordinary was going on.
If anyone has any insight, I'd be happy to hear it.
If you need more details, I'll answer questions as best I can.
And if you don't believe me, I don't blame you.
These events took place in a rural part of North Dakota in
the summer of 2012. Anyone who spent time in the
Midwest of the US, won't take long to tell you.
There's not a lot to do in your free time in places, like North
Dakota, this is doubly true, it's either hot or frozen.
It can be ugly Dusty and it's as if someone left the window on,
for the last 30,000 years. Almost no one wants to live
there and even the bushes of all into tumbleweeds to try to
escape. That said in 2012 North Dakota
had some of the best wages in the world due to its oil.
Boom. And I like so many other people
just sort of ended up there. now, when I say there wasn't
much to do, it's not hyperbole, you've got restaurants bars and
strip clubs, none of, which were built for the influx of people
flooding in from other states, many of whom you wouldn't want
to be around even when they were sober, Still you find ways to
pass the time between shifts and one of our favorites for a while
was driving the back roads at night, listening to music and
smoking weed. I didn't personally smoke, but
everyone else did. So there it is.
It was a time and place where a lot of people were constantly on
edge Everyone was a stranger, we worked all the time and we slept
in whatever house is our jobs could find for us.
Every week, brought another story about someone being killed
or a business being robbed at gunpoint.
The local police were overwhelmed by the skyrocketing
crime rates. I like to think of it as a brief
Resurgence of the West's more Lawless era.
So at night, we'd cruise down endless, dirt roads in the dark,
blasting, whatever music. We had on hand and trying to
laugh off the stress of being there.
Sometimes we'd stop in the darkness, kill the lights and
listen to the wind howl around the vehicle.
The sound could even be kind of soothing sometimes but not that
night. And it was the last time I ever
took a recreational night drive through the countryside.
I think we all felt the difference right away.
We pulled off to the side of the road, killed the lights and
turned the radio down. When clouds cover the moon and
stars and your many miles from the nearest Street Lamp, it's
hard to describe how complete the darkness can be, you turn
off the lights and suddenly, it's not just an intangible.
Absence of light, the dark comes more solid, like it has a
certain weight, you can feel against your skin.
This part of the experience, can actually be fun in a scary way,
but we'd done it many times and I was fairly used to it.
The wind howled differently around us this time. if you
lived there long enough, you'll experience all kinds of wins at
various volumes and pitches by that point, I had lived there
for quite a while and I'd never heard this particular shriek
before or since it was menacing and I felt my hair rise at the
sound. A girl who rode with us was the
first to speak up after maybe only a few seconds of being
pulled off the road. I remember hearing her voice in
The Dark. Damn, that's creepy.
I nodded silently. My head turned as if to look out
the window on my side though I couldn't see beyond it in the
Darkness. With every passing moment it
seemed like the unnatural on the wind rose higher.
It was an entirely inhuman sound that as it climbed gave the
impression of something approaching I was convinced as I
sat there in the dark that something was descending on us
while we were parked off that road.
While my fighter, flight response was still catching up
my friend next to me in the backseat beat me to the punch.
Go. He snapped from the darkness and
instantly the car lights, clicked back on the engine
started and I felt it more as a vibration through my seat than a
sound. I remember vividly being unable
to hear anything over the street.
I felt the tires spin for a second in the dirt and grass
before catching We lurched forward and shot off down the
dirt road. From the moment we stopped to
the moment. We floored it out of there.
I'd estimate no more than 10 seconds alive.
I think if it had ended here, we might have kept driving around
at night. Laughing it off as jumping at
our own Shadows. If that had been all, I wouldn't
even bother to write it down. But it wasn't.
So here we are. As we shot off, I experienced a
revelation that chills my blood to this day.
While we were parked in the darkness, the wind blew
consistently across the car from right to left and the shrieking
sound also moved in that direction.
As we tore down the road, I was acutely aware of the sound and
the direction. It emanated from shifted from my
right to behind me, even as we sped away.
I knew instinctively that this was wrong, the road was more or
less, a straight run for a few miles.
And every sense told me that shriek was not the wind as I had
first believed. My hearing told me it was
something else, and as we fled, that something gave Chase
though. It seemed unable to keep up
because after a few miles, the shrieking faded away entirely We
drove on in silence, except for the car, rattling down the
uneven Road in jostling, me in my seat.
My muscles were tense and my heart pounded like mad.
I remember vividly leaning toward the middle of the
backseat, so I could look out the front windshield trying to
calm down and confirm we were in the clear.
From my angle, I saw movement in the headlights and a pair of
eyes reflecting back at us far too near to miss hitting
whatever it was. But the driver slammed on the
brakes. Anyway, and we skidded along the
dirt road. I watched as we slid straight
into the eyes shining in the headlights, bracing for an
impact that never came. We slid, right?
Past them and came to a stop somewhere near the middle of an
intersection of dirt roads. After a moment of stunned,
silence and around of, is everyone, alright?
We open the car doors and got out looking around for signs of
whatever we'd hit though. I never felt any impact.
There was nothing. No damage to the car and no
noise in the immediate area. A cold.
Chill crept along my skin as I turned in place.
Taking in the narrow Crossroads, poorly illuminated by the
headlights. I repressed the urge to shiver
and gave up the search, calling out that I had found nothing and
heading back to my open car door.
I'd take an only a few steps before I found myself, rooted to
the spot, an icy fear Rippling across my skin and seizing my
chest. Even as the wind gusted over us.
I heard the edges of that awful shrieking begin to creep in. we
all stood there for a moment, equal parts, terrified and
fascinated, and just like before the volume steadily climbed as
if to Signal an approach, Almost as one we scrambled back into
the car, slamming the doors and getting ready to take off.
I still remember a certain mad curiosity lingering in the back
of my mind. A part of me, even then wanted
to know what the source was, because I'm fully certain, it
wasn't the wind. As before the sound quickly
faded behind us as we sped down the dirt road.
No more shining eyes appeared to impede our Escape.
After perhaps 40 minutes of driving, we turned onto a paved
Highway and headed back into town.
After that night driving became a much less popular Pastime.
We rarely discussed what happened that night.
And though I moved far away from that wind blown Dust Bowl.
I can't deny that. I still stop and listen,
whenever the wind picks up hoping against hope.
I never hear that cold shriek again, as I was writing out this
encounter with the unknown, I did some follow-up research on
paranormal phenomenon or mythological accounts, that
might be consistent with what happened.
I'm sorry to say, I didn't find much to corroborate my
experience. There's some lore about
Crossroads at midnight, which isn't super helpful since it was
considerably later than midnight.
I'd appreciate any information or Insight if there is any to be
had. And of course, if you don't
believe me, I don't blame you. I've been searching for some
semblance of similarity to someone else's encounter.
For three years now hoping another's experience.
Might align even a bit with my own to validate it until last
night. I'd found details.
That kind of aligned with my encounter but nothing.
I felt was concrete enough to keep my story from sounding
absolutely insane. It still does sound insane.
I know and I have no way to further explain any of it.
All I have is what I witnessed. I found a post on here from 18
days ago. That sounds eerily similar to my
own The key difference is the familiarity of the voices at
mimic, which leads me to wonder if this thing had been watching
us for a while. To get both of our voices down.
It would have had to have heard us at the most recent 10 hours
early earlier, before we left for work.
All right, to preface this. I typed all of this up as a DM
to send to someone else after reading the other guy's story,
so the syntax might be awful. Sorry if this reads like a
trashy DM, but I honestly get terrified of this thing.
Whenever I spend too much time talking about it so I'd rather
not type it all out again. I've been wanting to write this
since it happened in 2018 and 2019, but I legit get really
uncomfortable. The moment I start.
I'm sure the thing isn't actually watching or whatever
but I don't know. I just hate retelling.
It. I do think it's important to
share though, because finding someone else's story, led me to
several others that seem to align with what ever.
I saw. And it was honestly, so
cathartic. I figured maybe somebody else
might be in the same boat and need some sort of validation
that they aren't insane. So I was living down in West
Texas in this National Park, where the restaurant I was
working at rest at the top of a 15-minute hike up a mountain
trail from the housing, they provided us.
I closed up the restaurant after everyone left each night.
So I was always an hour or two later coming down the hill than
everyone else. It was usually pretty empty
really quiet and uncommon to encounter anyone else.
As the only thing at the top of the mountain is the closed
restaurant. Gift shop store, and some
trailheads. there isn't much reason for anyone else to be on
the trail at that, our One night.
I'm coming down. No moon.
So it was Pitch Black. The trail was empty and it was
characteristically quiet. I round the last Bend to get to
my house and right before I get off the trail to take a shortcut
through the thicket of cactus and brush there were maybe 15 20
trees, even though it's a desert, the top of the mountain
has a high Sierra microclimate. I hear my best friend roommate,
Call My Name, clear as day in the other direction, he said my
name and when I turned he said it again.
In retrospect it sounded funny, it was closed, maybe 15 yards
away but also sounded far off at the same time like if someone
recorded his voice from far away but played at very nearby.
It just sounded off but not enough to flip a switch
immediately. Maybe I'm remembering it
differently than it actually. Sounded.
I'm facing my house, maybe 50 yards away and the voice comes
from directly to my left on this foot Hill of the mountain, we'd
hike around sometimes. It has much more tree coverage
than the trail. I was on and considerably more
than the thickest separating me from the clearing around my
house. If you walked five feet in the
direction, The Voice came from, you'd completely disappear from
the view of anyone on the trail or on the back porch of the
house immediately. So hearing my friends voice
calling me over I thought. Oh cool, we're night hiking and
I turned to follow it. But right before I take my first
step into the tree line I hear his actual voice down on our
porch saying hey who are you talking to that stops me, I
turned back to face my house, confused as hell just in time to
see this thing burst out of the thick it.
I was about to shortcut through in the first place before I got
distracted by The Voice. From the exact spot I would have
walked through this thing bolts. It was humanoid technically but
the thing is tall as hell and way too skinny for a human at
least eight feet tall but slim inhumanly slender.
It was hunched over and running like it had just taken off from
a track mark, you know. But it kept that same hunched
form the whole time and never stood fully upright. okay, so
about the color, That part has always messed with me.
Because for one, I'm color blind and it was a greenish yellow.
I get greens and yellows, mixed up a lot.
Especially that particular Hue and two.
It looked like it was giving off its own glow which has always
sounded so absolutely ludicrous that I never tell anyone unless
I trust them. Not to think I'm completely
joking. Because if I heard this story, I
might think someone was at least a little bit, joking.
Our back porch, light was on though and the thing lined up
with where it would have been shining.
So if this thing was translucent, it could have taken
on that Sheen by reflecting the porch light.
The colors do kind of line up I guess.
If it reflected the light, it may have looked like that color
but it certainly wasn't identical.
Honestly, I swear it had its own shine, like, looking at A Dying
glow. Stick.
More than enough to see, but kind of faint.
Regardless it was a light that definitely wasn't there.
A second before when I had gotten to the shortcut, it would
have stood out for the last 50 yards of the walk at least.
It should be noted that had I followed.
That thing's voice two things would have happened.
One I would have completely disappeared from anyone's View
and two. I would have turned my back on,
whatever that thing was and entered a Thicket of trees weeds
and Cactus far, too dense to turn around run or fight back
in. And that trail at led me toward
goes directly to the edge of a cliff that drops into a massive
break in the mountain. The window in Big Ben National
Park that cleanly drops all 6,000, feet to the wide, open
desert below. That could have been its
purpose, leading me in that direction.
If I were going to do something nefarious, that would be the
perfect. Place to catch someone alone and
lead them somewhere. No one else would come across
them. Legit in the middle of the day.
You could probably make someone disappear there.
If you wanted. Anyway, how this thing was
running? It immediately felt like I had
spooked it. Like, how a deer runs off at a
noise, but this was different in that it seemed a lot more
determined. It seemed intelligent aware of
its own movement, not just acting on instinct.
It was like spooking a person. If they'd been watching you from
the bushes, spooked but sentient and definitely acting.
Like I just foiled some nefarious plan.
So now naturally, I also bolt exposing my back to this thing
but taking the Opposites slightly longer wait to my back
porch. my buddy, God bless his soul is still there when I make
it and he asks again, who are you with His face is just
confused as hell and he keeps looking past me.
I'm like you heard it too, right?
And he says, yeah, where are they?
I was like what what? There was multiple Apparently
from his perspective, he had heard multiple voices alongside
my own all carrying on and joking around talking back and
forth pretty loudly. He said there were at least
three other voices talking with mine, but it sounded like a
whole crowd coming down the trail.
He heard us getting closer and closer for the past few minutes
and just assumed I'd run into a hiking group and was talking
with them as we headed down. That's not unheard of in the
daytime but very uncommon for the hour of night.
It took me a minute to show him. I wasn't messing with him, that
I was completely alone and hadn't vocalized a single word
until he called up to ask. Who are you with It took a
second to even express my side of what was going on.
I was so out of whack, I couldn't find the words to
explain. So I just kept shouting
something like I swear to God, I just heard your voice and then
this thing dude, this thing Eventually, it registered with
him that there had been no other lights on the trail.
I wasn't using a flashlight that night, so maybe there was
actually a moon out. And that I had just heard his
voice, calling me off Trail and into the dark.
We both started trying to figure out what the hell.
We just witnessed. Okay.
This part might be a little crazy but I'm not implying
anything. I'm just saying this is what I
had been doing on the walk down before this happened.
Obviously walking home solo. I hadn't actually said a word
Whoever he heard was certainly not me and I certainly didn't
come with a crowd. But I had been praying, like
crazy on the hike down. There had just been this super
dark negative energy in the house lately and I was trying to
surround myself with light and positivity asking God to give me
strength before I walked back in.
Out of nowhere, Midway through the trail, I got this absolutely
overwhelming Joy, like an absolute ecstasy.
I was screaming inside feeling happier than I could describe,
like I could take on the whole damn world.
Maybe I am implying something, because call me crazy.
I've always felt that had something to do with how the
night turned out as a, to how it might have.
I know that part makes me sound insane but so does the rest of
it. So whatever.
I certainly don't think it was a coincidence.
I'm just not sure what to make of it.
Every detail means every detail. That's just what was going on
with me as the walk was happening.
It would have been a noteworthy memorable night even if the
thing hadn't shown up, it was that powerful of an energy
anyway? That's pretty much it.
The only other thing is our memories of it out of nowhere.
I just sort of stopped thinking about it, not like I forgot but
it was hidden behind some thick fog in my head.
The next morning, I told the story to a friend and she
uncharacteristically. Shut me down saying something
like ya'll are just crazy and getting scared of these
mountains. And then walked away.
It really wasn't like her to dismiss someone, especially a
friend without hearing them out. She was a very empathetic
person. It was like she'd heard
something that triggered a memory, she refused to touch and
shut it down before it got too close.
I don't know, maybe I'm reading into it but that's happened to
couple of times with this story. Anyway, we'd been living on that
mountain off and on for a few years at that point and had
never once heard or seen anything remotely similar to
that thing. Until that night we'd never even
heard a story vaguely resembling it.
We weren't just randomly spooked by our own house or the trail.
We took twice a day every day. and we weren't seeing or hearing
things, based on stories, we'd projected into the darkness But
the weirdest thing happened, the moment she walked away.
It was like a fog, just slowly poured over the memory and the
last time I remember thinking about it, was that moment, then
it just disappeared for months. How in the world does something
that massive that frightening happened in your life?
And then you just stop thinking about it.
Then one day it just popped back up.
I was honestly, so surprised and unsure of how I hadn't thought
of it in so long. That was almost more baffling
than what we actually witnessed. I asked my friend, the one who
was there just before I sent this, if he'd felt the same fog
thing and he said absolutely He doesn't really like talking
about that night and he's told me so but I can't help bringing
it up whenever possible hoping that by talking at through, we'd
find some sort of explanation for what happened.
Even as I type the message, I felt like I had asked him about
this a million times and just kept forgetting his answer.
Maybe I have that's not super uncommon I guess.
Anyway, that's pretty much everything.
I'm really sorry, if you read all this and found it
underwhelming But I really felt like I needed to convey as many
details as I could possibly remember.
Just in case someone reading, this has had any sort of
experience with any part of it, a mimic, a humanoid, the memory
loss, anything. I don't know.
I really don't know what to make of all this.
All I have are the details of that night and my memory doing
something bizarre. Afterward.
I have never known what to make of it.
But the other guys post from a few weeks back honestly, helped
me after three years of grappling with the experience.
Just seeing something that might be similar.
Makes me feel like I've learned as much about it, as I honestly
feel comfortable knowing I figured maybe somebody else
might be in the same boat and need some sort of validation,
just validation, I guess. Anyway, thanks for reading.
I'm a 28 year old male living right outside.
Chicago over the Border in Northwest Indiana.
I'm currently pursuing a Bachelor of Arts and Sciences at
Purdue. I'm not exactly what you would
call scientifically illiterate and I consider myself fairly
mentally sound. I've never had any problems on
that front. I have only ever openly
discussed this once before in a random quora question.
I answered anonymously. so, I'm still not very good at
discussing it openly and only two people who know me
personally are aware of what happened I avoided talking about
it for a long time because I feared the stigma associated
with the topic, especially in professional and scientific
communities. I was immensely relieved.
When the people I did open up to believed me without question,
which is why I'm typing this here today.
Please go easy on me. All that being said, I've been
trying for a few years to come to terms with something that
happened to me. It was almost five years ago,
shortly after my 23rd birthday, my father is very sick so I was
staying with my parents at the time to help take care of him
and the house. I woke up in the middle of the
night, it was warm, but I could hear and feel the breeze from
the fans. I need to sleep.
I reached over grabbed my phone and checked the time 3:31.
I put the phone back down and tried to settle back into a
comfortable position. after a moment, I realized I could hear
and feel a humming I knew right away.
It wasn't from my fans. It was very deep and I could
actually feel it in my body. Our house is near train tracks.
So at first, I thought it might be a train but I quickly
realized it wasn't While I was lying in bed wondering what it
was. I noticed for the first time
that my door was open, my door is never opened during the
night, or even during the day, never ever.
And I could see a light shining down the hallway into my room.
At first, I thought maybe my dad was going to the bathroom and
had his flash light out, but then I realized the light was
wrong. It wasn't the right color.
As I watched it started to get brighter.
As those someone had set up a white blue LED array.
At the end of the hall in the kitchen.
As the light got brighter. So did the humming I tried to
jump up to investigate fearing an intruder when I realized I
couldn't move, let me clarify, I could move my hands, my neck, my
feet, but it felt like someone had strapped down my limbs and
torso. After a brief moment of utter
Terror and confusion, I thought, okay, maybe this is sleep
paralysis. I'd read about it before but
never experienced anything like this.
Right after that. Thought I realized, I could no
longer feel the bed under me. I started Rising into the air
and gently floating, for lack of a better word, to my doorway,
and toward the light. I know how this sounds but I'm
110% serious. Please stay with me.
As I levitated through the doorway and into the haul, I had
a clear view into my parents room.
Their door is right next to mine, on the left side of the
hall. If you step out of my room, turn
90 degrees and take another step, you're in their room.
I could see them lying on the bed, and I started screaming
begging for help. They didn't move.
In fact, I couldn't even see them breathing.
And at that moment, I was convinced.
They were dead and I was next. That moment of pure
unadulterated Panic caused something to snap.
In the blink of an eye, I found I could move my arms again and I
flailed helplessly in the air. I have eventually got my hands
on the door frame and clung on for dear life because in that
moment I truly believed it was a matter of life and death.
To my dismay, my fingers slowly started to slip, as I continue
to be pulled inexorably down, the hall, toward the kitchen.
I dug my nails in as hard as I could to stop it.
Then in a quick burst of pain and Terror, I lost my grip and
continued to float. A few more seconds of
terrifying, levitation. And I was in the kitchen
floating with the top of my head, facing our back door.
It's a large sliding glass door and I could see that the light
was coming from just outside it. Something.
As bright as the sun was hovering right above our pool.
We have a large in-ground pool almost in the middle of the
backyard, which is surrounded by a 10 foot privacy fence.
Whatever. This was had to be directly over
the water. Maybe a couple of feet off the
ground. I took this in within a
heartbeat and was still in a state of Terror.
I'll never adequately explained when I fell to Breeze.
My back door was wide open, but I can't tell you if it had been
open all along or if it had just opened At that moment, I slowly
began to settle back onto the floor.
I found the cold surface against my back as my shirt.
Lifted slightly right? As I touched the ground.
I saw them if I thought I was afraid before, it was nothing
compared to this. One stepped in and stood over me
on my left side. Even from my perspective on the
floor I could tell this thing was huge.
If I had to guess, I would say at least seven foot ten to eight
feet tall. We have 9 foot ceilings in the
kitchen and its head was surprisingly close to the
ceiling. The light was so painfully
bright at this point that I didn't get to see a lot of
detail because it was silhouetted by the light behind
us. Two more entered and stood on
either side of my shoulders near the door, almost like guards.
Keep in mind all of this happened quickly and at that
moment I began to realize what might be going on.
The terror was unspeakable. I remember thinking they looked
nothing like the movie portrayals.
They were skeletal and their skin seemed well, I don't know
what it was. But it wasn't like ours.
The one standing to my left held something in its hand.
As I turned my neck to get a better view, I could see a
little more of its form. Its fingers Christ.
I Can't Describe what seeing those fingers did to me.
They were almost spider like way too long with too many joints.
To this day, that's probably the most haunting image.
It was clutching something black, maybe gunmetal or dark
silver. It reminded me of an iPhone that
was turned off, but it was thinner shaped more like a
remote or a short rod with a square-ish shape and rounded
edges. A smooth glassy thing, as its
fingers, moved over it every muscle in my body tense, up my
lungs. Filled as if they'd been
forcefully expanded and every limb shot straight out like I
was a plank of wood. My jaw clenched, so tightly.
I thought my teeth might shatter, I lost all control.
The only thing I could move were my eyes and even that was
limited It was like the signals from my nervous system were
completely hijacked and some other signal was overriding
them. The two behind me above me.
I was still on my back, moved closer and I started to rise off
the floor again. I felt fingers on my shoulders
as I began to hover out the door.
The second I got outside, the light became overwhelmingly
bright and then nothing. I woke up in my bed at 5:45 a.m.
sweating profusely my stomach hurt.
I got up and started my morning routine, trying to dismiss the
experience, as just a dream. And it worked until I was about
to get in the shower and noticed, a sharp pain.
I looked in the mirror and saw bruises everywhere arms, ankles,
thighs. But the worst were on my
shoulders and back. They clearly looked like
handprints albeit elongated ones.
I threw up almost instantly, I pulled myself together and went
back to my room. I saw the door frame and I saw
the scratches they lined up with my fingers, there was wood and
blood under my fingernails. I've never come to terms with
it. My fiance has encouraged me to
share, but it still feels deeply uncomfortable and jarring to
walk through it. As I type this, my hands feel
like they're Sub-Zero and my whole body is shaking.
I'm sure if I asked my fiance she'd say I'm extremely pale.
Even more than usual. This happens every time I think
about it. Many nights spent doing
research, watching YouTube videos of ufologists reading
reports. It's always the same
physiological response. After a lot of reading and
watching, I realized I had another experience when I was
five. It's my clearest childhood
memory and my earliest, most of my childhood is hazy.
I have only snapshots, but this memory is exponentially clearer
than anything else. Until recently I Shrugged it off
as a quirk of being young. I was never the imaginative
child who claims to see what they imagined.
I always had a farm grass of reality versus imagination which
is why this earlier memory stands out.
I was five. It was Easter morning and I woke
up excited to see my Easter basket.
My mom always went overboard and it was essentially Christmas and
spring only child perks. I jumped up and snuck out of my
room. It was just before Dawn, still
dark, but the Horizon was starting to Glow with Dawn
light. I crept down the hallway.
Aware, my parents were still asleep.
Hoping they'd wake soon. So I could dive into a giant
basket of candy and toys. As I neared the end of the
hallway and peeked into the living room, I saw it.
At first, I thought my parents were up, but as I got a better,
look, I realized this thing was big tall and gray and something
about its skin made me think of short fur.
Naturally. I assumed it was the Easter
Bunny or my dad dressed as the Easter Bunny.
The exact form eludes me, it was just tall and gray.
The weird thing is that, when I picture it, in my mind, the rest
of the scene is crystal clear everything.
Except this being, it's like someone put a blur filter over
it. The kind, they used to obscure
faces on TV. Maybe that's where I got the
impression of fur. Or maybe it was genuinely blurry
like, active camouflage or it was obscured afterward.
Assuming this memory is what I believe it to be.
As I said that experience, can't be proven physically, so I used
to shrug it off. But it's still pops into my
thoughts. Sometimes.
Like when I go to the dentist, everything is fine until they
lay me back with the light in my eyes and the drills and suction
going. And suddenly, I feel a primal
Terror. Since the main encounter the
Easter Bunny memory is less frequent but it still happens,
all these tiny and not. So tiny details I never really
thought about before now, make a scary kind of sense in light of
the experience I wrote about, I don't know.
For sure what happened to me. I'm not going to pretend I do.
All I know is it wasn't a dream. It wasn't sleep paralysis and I
have never slept walked. There was physical evidence of
something happening. I'm angry at myself for trying
to suppress it and not documenting everything,
although, the scratches are still visible on my parents'
door frame. I can definitively rule out what
it wasn't. And after eliminating other
possibilities. Well, you know how that saying
goes? I apologize for any spelling or
grammatical mistakes. As I mentioned, I'm on an
iPhone. And at this point my hands are
shaking, like, I'm in a freezer. If anyone has questions, I'd be
happy to try answering them. But what I really want is to
hear from people who've had similar experience is how it
Compares. What's the same?
What's different I contacted a mutual UFO Network and they did
a phone interview for two or three hours then gave me the
name of a hypnotherapist in Chicago.
But the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth because they
kept trying to spin it. As a positive experience saying
the beings were benevolent. I can conclusively say there was
nothing benevolent about them. They may not have been overtly
malevolent, but they were utterly unconcerned with my
well-being. I looked into one's eyes.
Most of its face was shadowed, but I could see its eyes and
there was nothing kind or benevolent there.
In that moment, I was simply a thing.
Not a sentient being to it. It didn't necessarily feel
robotic more like aloof. I could be mistaken, but I'm not
mistaken that it was in no way shape or form a positive
experience since then. I've been diagnosed with severe
abnormal, hormonal imbalances. I already had nerve damage in an
implanted neurostimulator in my spine.
So I've had a lot of scans done it was put in when I was 16
after an electrician injury that freed most of the nerves in my
left leg, They've examined my brain many times, but now I
can't have an MRI because of the spinal implant.
The CT scan revealed an abnormal mass in my brain.
That wasn't there in previous scans.
They say it's benign, but they can't see it in high enough
resolution to make a definite diagnosis.
I also have a strange black object under the skin of my left
kneecap exactly where the nerve damage is like a piece of lead
or something. I tried having it removed once
but the doctor couldn't get it out and said it wasn't bothering
me or causing problems, so I should leave it.
Aside from the nerve damage, everything else arose soon after
the experience. I have another strange side
effect although I am not 100% sure if it's caused by the
neurostimulator changing my body's em field or something
else. Entirely I blow out light bulbs
I can document it friends, family, professors and even
strangers have witnessed it. It happens.
So reliably that based on my proximity to certain types of
bulbs, I can almost predict when it'll happen.
I used to keep a lamp next to my bed and the bulbs kept burning
out or exploding. I tried different sockets tested
everything with a multimeter, nothing was abnormal.
But moving them away from me. Fix the issue a professor in the
engineering department even took an interest thinking, I was
joking him until he witnessed it himself.
I once walked down a hallway with a low ceiling and four
fluorescent bulbs burned out in sequence as I passed under them.
It happens all the time, but it's more of an odd Quirk than a
true problem. If we ever figure out the exact
cause I'll definitely post it. I'm sure I left some things out
and I've rambled on quite a bit. I'm sorry, it's the anxiety.
If you've had a similar experience, I'd really
appreciate your Insight. What was similar?
And what was different? I've thought about doing the
hypnotherapy, but a bigger part of me doesn't want to know.
I'm convinced that whatever happened.
After my memory stops was horrific, I can't explain it.
It's just a feeling absolutely nothing about the experience was
pleasant and I can't imagine anything good about being taken.
To those who've had similar experiences.
Does it get better? Does it go away?
Or will I always have these subconscious triggers?
I suspect it won't just disappear.
If I try to watch a movie about abduction, like fire in the sky
or The Fourth Kind. I have an overwhelming, physical
reaction. I watch a ton of horror movies.
My favorite genre and I've never had a reaction like that to
anything else. I lose all color start shaking
uncontrollably, my jaw Chatters, as if I'm freezing and my hands
become clammy and cold. I've even blacked out once.
Those two movies are by far the worst, but I have lesser
reactions to others or to situations that vaguely remind
me of it. Sometimes when I'm lying in bed
at night and everything is quiet, I get absolutely
terrified that. I'll feel that vibration or see
that light again. I guess I just want someone
who's gone through something similar to tell me.
It gets better, but I don't know if it ever will.
I remember the exact moment I first pulled up to Redwood Glen
Mill. Even in that early light, the
whole place looked worn and tired like it had seen too many
storms and never quite recovered.
I hopped out of my old pickup and felt the ground crunch under
my boots. A reminder of how remote this
spot really was. No, paved roads are fancy
signage just gravel Timber and the low hum of Machinery.
Starting to wake up. The mill itself, loomed ahead.
This hulking mass of corrugated metal that dominated the
clearing They called the main saw big Ripper and you could
tell right away. Why?
Even from a distance, it stood out like some mechanical Beast,
cables and Blades jutting everywhere.
I'd heard stories about saws, that could rip clean through a
three foot trunk in seconds. But actually seeing it up close
sent a jolt of nervous energy through my gut.
I tried not to focus too much on those rough edges at that our
our little crew usually gathered by the office trailer, sipping
coffee that tasted more like bitter water and swapping small
talk to wake ourselves up We had Leroy our supervisor scanning,
the daily laws on a clipboard. We had Jeff who cracked corny
jokes. That nobody really laughed at,
and me. Leaning against the trailer
wall, taking it all in. Once we drained our cups, we
spread out to our stations. The bunkhouses weren't far off
some old trailers scattered behind the main yard.
It amazed me that a few thin walls were all that separated me
from the noise of logs rolling in at all hours.
When I did manage to sleep, it was usually a Restless dose.
The nights here, weren't exactly quiet, Machinery, word tree
branches, tapped on tin roofs and occasionally, there was this
weird Echo, like something was moving around by the fences.
People said it was nothing raccoons, maybe a stray dog, but
I overheard Whisperers, a veteran Named Gus claimed.
He spotted Footprints near the log, pile.
That didn't belong to any of us. He tried laughing at off at
dinner, but his eyes told a different story.
Nobody likes entertaining, the idea of intruders, especially
when there are rumors floating around about sabotage at other
Mills. We brushed it aside, but it
still nagged at me later that night.
The next morning, I joined a group clearing debris near the
log deck. As we hauled broken branches and
stray bark off to the burn pile, I started picking up on tension
in the air. People were glancing around more
double-checking, the fence line. A few days before there, had
been reports on the radio about tree spiking in Northern
counties. Something about Metal spikes
hammered into trunks to wreck cutting equipment.
It sounded like a grim urban legend, but we all knew it had
happened in real life to other Crews.
There wasn't much talk of it though.
Didn't want to jinx ourselves? Thing is Redwood, Glen wasn't
exactly the Pinnacle of security.
We Were Far From Any Town practically in the middle of
nowhere with miles of forest around us.
The idea that someone could sneak in with a noticing felt
too easy to dismiss. But every so often Leroy would
hover by big Ripper scanning the yard as if waiting to catch
someone out of place. By the time we finished our
shift that day, I was born tired and more jumpy than usual, back
at the bunkhouse, I lay on my bunk listening to the wind
scraped branches against the thin metal walls. my co-worker
on the top bunk dozed off but I just stared at the flickering,
overhead, bold wondering if those strange Footprints were
more than just rumor, Some of the others.
Tried to lighten the mood over a few beers telling jokes about
Bigfoot or local Legends. But under the forced laughter,
you could tell we weren't entirely convinced, it was just
silly talk. We'd all heard enough to know
that, sometimes people do crazy things to make a statement.
And if a spike was out there hidden in any one of those,
massive logs that spelled danger for everyone in the mill.
I tried to shrug it off. We had a job to do, right.
Show up before, Dawn, cut would ship it out, get paid.
But I found myself craning my neck at dinner peering out the
window into the darkness beyond the yard lights.
I swore, I saw movement just past the tree line, but when I
blinked it vanished That's the thing about redwood, Glen.
Your mind is never quite at ease.
Every shadow feels a little too long, every bump in the night a
little too close. And I had no clue how quickly
that tension would explode into something far worse.
I woke up feeling like the air itself, was taunting me, heavy,
claustrophobic just plain wrong over in the bunk.
My roommate was already gone leaving behind a half, empty mug
of cheap coffee on the Ricky table.
I gave myself a pep. Talk telling myself, it was just
another day at Redwood Glen Mill.
Just another round of logs Saws, and the steady hum of machinery.
When I got to my station Leroy was pacing clipboard in one hand
and a deep scowl etched into his face.
He kept mumbling about how we were behind on orders and
telling me I need to hustle. I remember shrugging trying to
hide my nerves in the back of my mind.
A question simmered were those Whispers of sabotage just rumors
or something worse. The morning began like any
other. We examined big Ripper, made
sure the belts were secure and tested the blade with a low
spin. Everything sounded smooth, no
rattle, no squeal. It was oddly reassuring.
So I let that tension seep out of my shoulders, as the first
log arrived, I motion for the loader, operator to roll it,
onto the feed track, that log looked normal.
At first glance long rugged bark, a few knot holes, nothing,
we hadn't seen a thousand times before.
I threw a lever, guiding It Forward, the saw roared to life,
that familiar Shrek of Steel against would But a couple
seconds in the pitch shifted, like the machine was biting into
something denser than usual. A high-pitched whale tour
through the mill louder than I'd ever heard.
My hand shot to the lever desperate to stop the feed, but
it was too late in a Flash. Something inside.
Big Ripper gave way. I saw Sparks, someone screamed,
it might have been me or it might have been the loader guy.
I couldn't tell the blade blew apart with a thunderous.
Bang shrapnel world through the are shards glinting, under the
fluorescent lights. I was knocked backward, ears
ringing, so fiercely. I could barely think straight.
The world seemed to spin my knees, hit the ground, and the
pain that sliced up, my arm told me a chunk of metal must have
found its mark. The taste of iron filled my
mouth. And when I spat there was blood
on the floor, my brain struggled to register the chaos,
co-workers, yelling alarms screaming, the heavy thud of
something crashing onto the concrete.
Smoke or dust swirled making it tough to see who was hurt, or
how bad I forced myself up. Adrenaline pumping my arms.
Stung like fire. I pressed a shaky hand to it and
my fingers came away. Smeared read somebody lunged
toward the shut off, switch for the Mills conveyor system.
While Leroy barked frantic orders.
People were stumbling trying to dodge the scraps of wood and
Twisted, Metal scattered everywhere.
Then I spotted the log, it had split, open revealing, a vicious
rust, flecked Spike driven straight into its core.
The thing glimmered in a sickening way, like it was proud
of what it had done for a second.
I couldn't wrap my head around it.
This was no random accident, someone had hammered that spike
in there. Terror turned to anger as the
reality sank in sabotage. Those rumors we'd heard about
activists spiking logs, to sabotage, Mills weren't just
Tall Tales, this was it right in front of me lying amid, the
wreckage of big ripper in the blood on the floor.
A co-worker grabbed my shoulder trying to steady me, my vision
swam and the pain in my arm pulsed harder than any
throbbing, I fell in my life. I gritted my teeth stumbling
forward as Lee Roy yelled for someone to call an ambulance.
But we were hours away from any decent hospital.
So another guy hollered about using a pickup to get me and
whoever else was hurt to the clinic.
I let them drag me away from the saws shattered remains every
step jarring. The torn flesh in my arm.
A small part of me still wanted to check on the others, see how
badly they were injured but my body was on the verge of
shutting down. My mind kept latching onto the
image of that Spike. I pictured, the person who had
driven it in hammering away with no care for the Carnage, it
might cause someone got me onto a makeshift stretcher.
I leaned my head back, refusing to pass out.
My breath, sounded ragged and Wheezy, and my own ears.
It took everything. I had not to black out, but I
knew if I did, I might never get another chance to see the
sunlight glinting off the mill roof again.
As they hoisted me into the pickup bed, I caught a final
glands of the shop floor. Twisted Metal scattered
everywhere. Co-worker's trembling
bloodstains trailing across the concrete.
The entire Mills seemed Frozen in shock, Leroy climbed in
beside me shaking so hard. He could barely dial his phone,
his voice cracked. As he spoke to the dispatcher,
trying to explain the disaster. I closed, my eyes, clutching my
arm, my thoughts bouncing between pain and outrage between
fear and the gut wrenching, truth that someone had targeted
us. Before the truck peeled off, I
heard new voices, echoing in the yard, a wild mixture of Terror
and disbelief. A spike in one log was, all it
took to turn Redwood Glen into a nightmare Zone.
And now we were going to find out just how bad one act of
sabotage could hurt us all. I remember waking up to a
piercing, white glare overhead, my head, buzzing like a broken
radio. It took me a few seconds to
recognize, I was in a hospital room, my arm battered from the
explosion at the milled, dully beneath layers of gauze. the
entire space smelled of disinfectant and stale coffee
and I could hear the rhythmic beep of monitoring machines,
nearby A nurse appeared at my side.
Her eyes sympathetic. She leaned in and told me they'd
managed to remove the biggest fragments of shrapnel.
I was lucky. She said no main artery had been
severed though. I had lost a sickening amount of
blood. That was a tough pill to swallow
knowing how close I'd come to something even worse.
I noticed the stiff bandaging on two of my fingers and felt a
paying of dread She explained gently that the damage was
severe. And I needed additional
surgeries the rest of her words, blurred, but the message saying
in I would never regain full use of my right hand.
That would have been tough to handle under any circumstances,
but the knowledge that this was no random accident.
This was sabotage. Not at my insides.
As I stared at the bandages, my mind began looping through
questions. Who hammered that Spike into the
log? did they realize how much pain
they'd cause and if they did, did they even care?
I drifted in and out of sleep for the next couple of days.
The staff checked, my vitals and changed dressing while doctors
murmured in the Hall of about follow-ups surgeries.
When Leroy finally showed up, he had a haunted look.
There were dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't rested
in days. He told me the authorities had
swarmed Redwood Glen after the incident news, crews cameras,
the whole circus. Our story had become a headline.
Ecoterra at local Sawmill was plastered across every channel,
it made me feel exposed, like the entire world was gawking at
my mangled arm. I asked about my co-workers and
Leroy's voice lowered. Three.
Others had been heard in the blast.
None is badly as me, but one guy took a flying chunk of metal to
the leg. A few folks had minor wounds
cuts on their faces or arms. Some Watchers on shift had
dodged most of the debris, but the shock did a number on
everybody's psyche. And then there was the log that
single sabotaged trunk that nearly took my life.
A couple of days later, I was propped up in bed, mindlessly
flipping through stale. Daytime TV when a local reporter
somehow snuck past the nurses, she poked her head into my room
microphone in hand asking if I had any statement to make for
the news. The frustration boiled inside
me, I was half medicated. Confused terrified for my future
and she wanted a sensational sound bite.
I told her to leave She flashed an apologetic smile and mumbled
something about the Public's, right?
To know, but the heaviness in my stair must have convinced her
she'd gone too far. That night sleep was impossible.
My dreams turned into chaotic, flashes the shriek of the blade
shards of metal spinning, me. Clutching my arm, Even in that
hospital bed, I felt like I was still at Redwood, Glen bracing
for the next disaster. Whenever I managed to doze off,
I jerk away half expecting to see the silhouette of someone
hammering, a spike in to my IV pole.
Leroy came by again, just before I was discharged.
He said, Redwood Glen had shut down temporarily the company had
rushed to install metal detectors and new safety,
protocols, but production had ground to a halt.
Word was the entire operation might be sold if they couldn't
guarantee workers safety. He looked devastated like the
place, he dedicated years to had been gutted from the inside.
I finally got to go home though. Home didn't feel much like a
comfort. My family tried to help me
settle in cooking meals fluffing, pillows making sure I
took my meds on time. But I couldn't silence the anger
pumping through my veins. This was supposed to be a steady
job, a place where the biggest dangers were the ones we were
trained for mechanical failures, missteps, around, heavy logs,
not sabotage. Not some hidden piece of metal
waiting to turn my life. Upside down.
My phone buzzed non-stop with calls from co-workers, some
sounding and raged some just plain scared one, close friend
confessed. He was so rattled, he hadn't
been able to sleep for more than a couple hours a night.
He was paranoid. Someone else might have set
spikes. Another told me he was quitting.
Said he couldn't face the daily tension anymore, always glancing
over his shoulder for hidden threats in the logs.
It felt like Redwood Glen was disintegrating, piece by piece
torn apart by the memory of that single morning.
A local radio station invited me to share my story on the air.
I refused dealing with the Press, didn't appeal to me.
My arm still stung. Every time I shifted in my
makeshift recliner and I couldn't hold a cup of coffee
without trembling My mind raced back to the battered.
Log each time, Conjuring up that Savage Spike, would they catch
whoever did it would The Saboteur be proud to see me like
this half crippled struggling to button my shirts?
The physical therapy was grueling.
The therapist tried to mask her pity by cheering my baby steps
forward wiggling. A few digits on my right hand
fighting through Scar Tissue but I saw the look in her eyes
whenever I flinched. She knew I was battling more
than just torn muscles. I was grappling with sleepless
nights, nasty Daydreams, a constant home of anxiety that
never let up. Not long afterward.
Leroy called to tell me. Redwood Glen was limping back to
life. Metal detectors beeped over
every log, new security guards, patrolled the perimeter and the
main saw had been replaced with a slower supposedly safer model,
but morale was shot half the crew.
Wanted out afraid of another spiking incident, some openly
talked about revenge or teaching those activists a lesson, which
scared me more than I wanted to admit.
Anger was swirling around like a storm and I couldn't see a clear
path forward. Eventually the time came for me
to decide whether I had ever go back.
I'd always pride in myself on being a dedicated worker the
sort who showed up early and stayed late, but now I couldn't
imagine stepping onto that concrete floor again, hearing
the saw Roar and wondering if a hidden Spike, might rip the
blade apart again. My heart, pounded at the mere
thought of walking past big rippers replacement.
So I made the call. I quit Redwood Glen for good.
The decision felt like a betrayal of everything.
I'd known my livelihood, my routine, my identity.
But every new Akon, my wounded arm reminded me that I had to
protect what little piece I had left.
My family needed me alive, not living In Perpetual fear.
Some nights. I still flash back to the
moment, the blade shattered, the air thick with metal shards and
choking dust. I see that Spike lodged in the
log mocking, our idea of safety with its cold glint, but at
least now I don't have to stand in front of another saw waiting
for history to repeat itself. I wish I could say.
I found closure. Maybe I never will.
Part of me hopes, they catch whoever's responsible, make them
see the devastation they Cause, And Another Part Of Me just
wants to forget it. All to stop.
Picturing that sabotage every time I hear heavy equipment, in
any case Redwood, Glen is behind me now.
The scars are permanent reminders that no paycheck is
worth risking life and limb against an invisible enemy.
Someone willing to use nails and metal rods to prove a point and
whether they cared or not about who got hurt.
I still have to deal with the damage.
They left behind. About a month ago, my friend
asked if anyone had ever had strange experiences in Southern
Tennessee, and a few other nearby places.
Particularly in the mountains, I had too much going on to respond
at the time. But my husband and I did have an
experience there that I think is worth telling, although most of
our family doesn't know because we understand how they'd react.
So we've never told them while I realized this post describes
many over the top experiences, my husband and I both went
through the following exactly, as I'll describe I understand
that not everyone will believe me but since this post contains
deeply personal moments in my life, I ask that everyone please
keep comments respectful whatever.
Opinions you express on the subject matter.
Thank you so much. This story needs background to
convey, some factors that were potentially involved.
I suspect the events leading up to the trip to Tennessee may
have had a direct relation to the severity of what we
experience while there. I had never wanted to marry
neither had my now husband. Then we met each other.
We got engaged at ages 30 in 28 and had a two-year engagement.
We wanted our wedding to symbolize our true Soul Bond and
decided to go completely non-traditional.
His giant family wanted a white dress Catholic wedding.
So we were at Major odds with them from day one.
My fiance and I began suffering a long run of exceptionally, bad
luck along with some odd Poltergeist activity at home.
It was nothing too major, so we mostly brushed it off.
Except for one instance, when we left the house and came back to
find a red clown, nose sitting front and center on our bathroom
sink. No one had keys to our place and
we definitely didn't own a clown nose.
That one freaked us out. When I told a friend, something
weird was going on. To the point.
I almost felt the wedding was cursed.
He tried to explain it away. I said watch something's going
to happen today while he's getting his tux.
I'm telling you I got one flabbergasted look for my friend
before my fiancee immediately called to say, they'd been a
freak accident in the parking lot, while he was getting fitted
and someone had totaled the back end of his truck that shut my
friend right up. Another glitch was my refusal to
have my father, walk me down the aisle.
I also refused a random stand-in, just for tradition's
sake. I asked my younger brother and
he said he would be so honored we'd had some problems in the
past, but he'd been clean for seven years.
And we'd finally reconciled. Losing our Middle Brother to a
drunk driver had driven us apart for a while.
But later on it, brought us back closer then, 40 days before the
wedding. My younger brother
unintentionally passed away in his mid-twenties.
My fiance and I drove over 16 hours close to Point Pleasant
West Virginia to say goodbye. I knew my brother and I knew, he
wouldn't cross over easily after what he'd done, especially with
my wedding, around the corner and me counting on him.
It bothered me, deeply his viewing was closed to immediate
family only. He wasn't involved due to the
complete autopsy required. He was covered in a handmade
quilt up to his chin. We were instructed not to touch
him although we ignored that after saying our goodbyes, I
walked to the end of his Gurney and laid my hands on his feet
like a supplicant I told him I understood.
It was an accident and that I forgave him.
I told him that if he still felt he needed to make amends, to me,
he could do so by calling forth, my loved ones and those of my
fiance to come witness the wedding from the other side.
I asked him to bring our other brother.
My fiance's sister grandparents, aunts friends calling them by
name all the Beloved Souls who had already passed.
Do this. I told him and there will be no
debt between us. You can rest in peace.
The looks on my family's faces were Priceless but it felt like
something I needed to offer. When I returned to New Orleans,
I had a pendant made featuring my favorite picture of my two
brothers. I wrapped it around my bouquet
and all though to the guests. It seemed I walked the aisle
alone. I knew both my sweet brothers,
were right beside me in spirit. They would never miss their
sister's wedding, especially with Hector.
The passing actively dragging them across the veil, to fulfill
what he must have felt was his final obligation to the living.
My new husband, Eli. And I went to a rental cabin on
Bluff Mountain for our honeymoon week.
I don't want to name the specific cabin in case I'm not
supposed to but I will say it was very Rocky with a raccoon
theme Bluff. Mountain is in Pigeon, Forge
outside of Gatlinburg in the Smoky Mountains, I was living in
New Orleans and had brought a double handful of fresh-picked
Gardenia blossoms with me. It was a symbolic offering to
the mountain for hosting us on such a special occasion.
No rituals or anything. I simply arranged them on a
wooden box with a fake bird and Nest that sat on top of the
cabins porch railing. And I sent up feelings of
gratitude and joy, we went out to eat and grabbed groceries
upon arriving back at the cabin. The wooden bird box was smashed
into a million pieces all over the porch.
It must have hit the ground hard to shatter.
So thoroughly we figured maybe a raccoon or bear had gotten to
it. Then I noticed.
There were no flowers. I thought it could have been the
wind but the leaves scattered around.
The porch were still exactly how we'd left them.
Gardenias aren't super light, flowers heavier than leaves?
So it was weird. They were gone while the leaves
stayed. I searched around the porch.
Stairs and walkway, but found nothing.
The next morning, I went a little way down.
The driveway to pick some honeysuckle about 20 feet from
the porch, I glanced down and did a double take.
There were all my gardenias piled up and flattened as thin
as Crepes. There were no shoe Prints, but
it looked like, more than one stomp was needed to squash them
that flat. Feeling unnerved.
I walked away wondering if the mountain didn't like my offering
after all. Then laughing at myself for the
thought. Night one.
Eli Wok suddenly to what sounded like something big banging on
the support beams under the cabin.
The front half of the cabin was supported about 15 feet off the
forest, floor by giant wooden posts because it hung off the
side of a hill. He said, the impact was so
strong that the mirror on the wall vibrated, which shouldn't
be physically possible for anyone to do.
Each time, he started to drift back off, there was another
Bang. Finally, he got up after one,
more cabin, shaking thud. He decided to wake me.
Apparently, he'd been waiting to see if I would wake up on my own
so he'd know. He wasn't imagining it, but now
he was completely alert. Right.
As he reached for me, he heard the loudest Bank slap from the
area between the sitting area and the kitchen right at the
foot of the bed, it was a one-room cabin.
He said it sounded like a giant book being dropped from high up,
but there was nothing there. This bang was definitely inside
the cabin. He tried frantically to wake me,
but he said, I was in such a deep sleep.
He actually thought something was wrong, that he could barely
tell I was breathing. Then this strange metallic
jangling noise started up behind the TV, directly across the
cabin from our bed. He said it went on forever, but
he was too scared to go check, especially since it was right by
the huge windows and near where he'd heard the noise inside.
It was this insistent. Buzzing jangling that finally
woke me. I remember it being so hard to
come back to Consciousness like swimming through Blackness to
get back to myself. I kept asking what the hell is
that noise? Thinking it was an alarm someone
left set. When I finally managed to get up
to smash the offending noise maker, the trilling stopped
exhausted. I fell back onto my pillow.
Eli told me about the banging. He was obviously terrified and
while I believed him, I was so numb and out of it, that I had
no emotional response. I was overmeld with a
debilitating fatigue and just zonked out until morning.
Normally I'm a very light sleeper in new places but almost
every night during this trip was like that.
The second my head hit the pillow.
It was as if I fell into a coma, it was extremely deep but not
restful waking up, was worse. It literally felt like I had to
claw my way out of unconsciousness and it left me
exhausted. Day and night, too.
While doing my makeup in the infamous shaking mirror the next
morning. I finally heard the full story
from Eli. I tried to talk it out.
Logically Maybe a bear was rubbing against the post.
But he insisted, it was solid bangs like a giant fist, no way,
it was a bear and there was all that Bang from the center of the
floor, on the inside of the cabin.
That reminded me of the alarm. I was all set to disabled it at
the exact second. I mentioned it that horrible
buzzing noise started up again behind the TV.
We both jumped. I joked.
That's some interesting timing. Looking behind the TV.
I realized it wasn't an alarm clock but an old landline phone
with a bell buzzer which explained the horrid noise.
Of course, I had to answer it. There was a minute of silence
and then bursts of static. It sounded like someone was
talking but it was so garbled by Static.
I couldn't make out any words I told him to move around to get
better reception. Was it cabin management?
Still silence and occasional static bursts.
I hung up. I was more amused than anything,
especially seeing Eli's face. As soon as I set the phone down
he unplugged it, he said management had both our cell
numbers so it was probably a prank call from someone who'd
stayed before, but we weren't playing along and ending up in a
Deliverance scenario. Smart man, the phone stayed
unplugged. That night, we were in the hot
tub on the deck. It was around the back and
closed on three sides by a kind of gazebo with no Bright Lights
nearby to avoid bug, swarms. As we relaxed.
I was facing the wooden slats of the enclosure.
And Eli was facing me in the forest.
I kept admiring this large Blue, Light Behind the enclosed end.
It was about the size of a cantaloupe and looked bright.
But the glow over us in the hot tub was pretty muted.
I assumed, it must be some kind of LED though.
I'd never seen a blue. That shade all the other cabin
lights were bright and orange. I distinctly remember,
commenting on how nice it was for mood lighting.
Eli also looked at it and agreed.
We stayed out there about two hours.
When we decided to get out the light blinked on, and off in a
seemingly deliberate pattern before shining a few more
seconds and going dark. We both remarked how strange it
was. That the light burned out like
that. I plan to call the next morning
to request a new bulb. When I woke up.
I walked around back to see what kind of fixture needed
replacing. There was nothing there.
No pole, no wiring nothing. That could produce a light.
The management confirmed. They'd never installed one in
that spot because of unstable soil.
What ever the light was it was definitely there for the two
hours. We were soaking, it didn't turn
off it flat out disappeared. From this second night on, after
coming inside, I started getting Goosebumps and the hair on my
neck, stood on end every time I passed the open bathroom.
The bathroom was next to the bed area lying in bed.
You could see the bathroom sink and a small window of it that
opened onto the woods behind the hot tub.
It had no curtain. I still thought the blue light
was man-made at this point, but I could swear something was
looking in through that window. I had been leaving the bathroom
door open because I liked seeing the forest from the bed, but now
I tried to keep it shut without Eli noticing.
I was creeped out. The next morning, Eli told me
that any time he began to drift off a resounding bang on the
posts, under the cabin would jolt him awake.
He swore was like something knew exactly when he was closing his
eyes, he never got up. So how could it tell Once again,
I was no help sleeping like the Dead.
Knight 3. After scrubbing ourselves in the
cabins heavily sulfuric water. We got ready for bed.
Walking from the bathroom to the bed.
I remembered. I'd forgotten to shut the
bathroom door. Since Eli was already in bed,
watching me. I just kept going telling myself
to stop being ridiculous. Although, I was sure, I felt
eyes at that window. I had checked before and saw
nothing on usual, but that feeling persisted.
Then Eli quietly asked, if I could shut the door, why I
asked? Because that window gives me the
creeps he replied. It was Eerie validation, that
night, I had some disturbing dreams.
I can't really recall, Eli, however, experienced a severe
bout of sleep paralysis SPO though he initially swore, it
wasn't SP because he said he sat up kicked and yelled at the
figure. Now, he agrees, it was probably
SP. Either way, he woke to Erie
laughter and saw what he described as a grudge type woman
standing at the end of the bed, laughing at him.
I wouldn't wake up. He said, she wore a white dress,
had pale skin, black eyes, and a horrible mouth, and long, black
hair partially obscuring, her face surrounded by swirling.
Black mist. She reached for him and he sat
up yanking his legs to his chest.
He said he started yelling at her to GTFO and kicked it at
her. She faded out laughing.
He said, he woke several times to her grabbing his ankles and
giggling throughout the night. I still wouldn't wake up.
Night 4. It was more of the same.
Eli had repeated SP experiences with the same lady and white
even more intense. Also I realized a small trinket
I'd brought for luck left on the Shelf next to my side of the bed
was missing. The cabin was Tiny and we tore
it apart over the next two days, but it never turned up.
It was worthless monetarily. So I don't think it was stolen.
Night 5. Whenever I sat up on the edge of
the hot tub to cool off, I felt that same sense of being
watched. I had gotten from the bathroom
window, I'd literally break out and goosebumps.
It was a Friday and we could hear a group of guessing college
kids, partying, some distance away, close enough to catch
their screaming. Whoops, and cheers.
Not wanting some creepy would Savvy lurker to watch me.
We went inside. Not much else happened that
night Beyond troubled sleep at one point.
Eli woke up to frantic banging on a support post but it didn't
last long or repeat. Night, 6, final.
This was an extra night. We received due to the terrible
sulfuric water. The filters needed replacing so
they comped us a night. The water wasn't dangerous.
Just really, really stinky like OTA rotten egg.
It was bad despite our weird nights.
We'd been having a blast during the day riding rides.
Eating great food, trying good wine.
Gatlinburg is amazing to visit So on our last night in the hot
tub, everything was great until I started feeling that intense
hostile gaze from the tree line for the second night in a row,
this time. It felt worse.
Every time I sat up to cool off, I had unconsciously hug myself
and sink back into the water. I reminded my husband that in
all the years he'd known me. I had never been the paranoid or
scared type, but there was absolutely something aggressive
out there watching me and it wasn't one of the college kids.
We could hear them again. Eli pulled me over to the
covered side. Within five minutes of my
moving, we heard a tremendous crash in the brush behind us.
Then something big stomping directly below us.
A few seconds later, there was more crashing and a second set
of stomping footsteps. They sounded human in Rhythm but
no one unpacked Earth should be that loud.
We both bolted inside still dripping Eli says that night was
the worst for banging on the posts.
He said there was banging on, at least three widely separated
posts and it went on most of the night.
Whenever the banging stopped, he dozed off and the white dressed
woman would have appear again. I slept like the Dead mourning
of December leaving day. Something demanded my attention,
pulling me toward consciousness. At first at sounded like a
parade of horses, clip-clopping, down a pave Street.
Then I remembered where I was the sound was coming from the
roof. I checked my phone just after 8
a.m. on a Sunday, I groaned thinking roofers must be working
on the cabin. But why wouldn't they know the
cabin was still booked until 11 a.m.?
I glanced at Eli. He looked pale and was
breathing, very slowly, obviously exhausted.
I gave him a half-hearted poke but he was out cold.
He'd been dealing with so much, I let him sleep.
At least it was morning, sunny and not something going bump at
4 a.m. Then I wondered what roofers
worked on Sundays, I listened more carefully, it wasn't
exactly a hammering. It really sounded like Hooves
pounding the roof. I decided I'd have to ask them
to hold off until we checked out I pulled back the covers and
swung my legs off the bed, the second, my feet touched the
floor, the pounding on the roof, stopped instantly, and the door
handle to the main entrance, three or four steps in front of
me started, rattling violently. There were two things.
I noticed there was no pause between the sound on the roof
and the door handle. It moved from above me to right
in front of me with no delay. The top half of the door, was
glass with a sheer curtain and the Sun was shining directly
through it. I could plainly see that, no one
was near the door yet. The handle was shaking
uncontrollably. I yanked my feet back onto the
bed and ducked under the covers like a terrified kid.
The moment my feet left the floor, the doorknob stopped
rattling and the pounding on the roof, resumed in the exact same
spot again. No pause, I stared at Eli, torn
over whether to wake him. I was scared.
He'd wake up and hear nothing at all, but then his eyelids
fluttered open on their own. Do you hear that?
I whispered, he said yes. I felt so relieved.
I hadn't imagined it, we stayed there Whispering.
He also thought it sounded like a horse or multiple Hooves, but
not quite metal. The pounding was so strong.
We could see the mirror shaking glasses, rattling and cabinets
quaking. Whatever was on the roof was
huge. The pounding continued for about
35 minutes from around 8:02 a.m. until 8:36 a.m. though.
I don't know how long it had been going on before.
It woke me it was deafening and absolutely terrifying.
We lay there Whispering about whether it was trying to break
through the roof, though. The glass doors would have been
easier to smash. Eli decided he would get up.
And look, I told him about the doorknob shaking when I tried.
After a moment's hesitation, he threw back his covers and stood.
The pounding stopped, we both froze.
Then came a horrible grating noise sliding across the roof.
Our eyes went huge, was that clause?
I hissed in the softest voice, I could manage Eli jumped back
onto the bed and the banging resumed, we had the quietest
conversation ever about whether we'd actually just heard giant
claws on the roof. It sure sounded like it.
Eli finally, grabbed his legally owned firearm from his bedside
drawer and made a sudden dash for the door.
The pounding instantly stopped and everything.
Went silent. No running footsteps or
anything. The roof was completely empty.
Given the cabins location perched on the hill, with no
clothes trees. There was no where something
that big could hide or escape to without being seen.
We packed at lightning speed, but we did have one last quick
smoke in the driveway, it felt safer in open space.
While we were out there, we heard the group of party ears
from the previous night's yelling, for a missing friend.
We could hear the panic in their voices.
Where is he? He was with us last night.
They shouted his name over and over.
Eli. And I tried to find them to help
or at least to ask if they'd seen or heard anything weird.
But the winding One Way dirt roads were confusing We think
they might have been locals, and we were on rental cabin roads.
That didn't connect to local ones.
We couldn't reach them. I really hope they found him
passed out, drunk in a bush somewhere.
I have no idea what we encountered on that trip.
It showed elements of so many paranormal experiences.
Orbs strange phone calls, Poltergeist, activity Cryptid,
like behavior and a lady in white.
Yet, it really felt like one entity, wearing, different
outfits, so to speak. After we got home, everything
went back to normal. Though I had asked my departed,
loved ones to Bear witness to our wedding specifically.
The Blessed dead and specifically only for the
ceremony of this activity. Seemed like protective ancestors
to me. I leaned towards some kind of
nature or Elemental Spirit but that's just a guess.
Eli on the other hand says he thinks it was a big foot even
though he said otherwise at the time.
Anyway, that was our oh, so, memorable honeymoon.
If you made it this far, thank you, for reading.
I'd love to hear any ideas on what we might have encountered.
Thank you, and best wishes. I've been working at this
Michigan Nature. Preserve for a while now.
And usually the biggest surprise I get is the occasional lost
hiker or an unexpected downpour. That all changed one night when
the storm clouds rolled in like a warning.
Rain hammered the roof of the tiny entrance Booth.
I was stationed in and the wind rattled, the windows so hard.
I thought they might crack every flash of lightning lit up the
forest in these stark, white bursts.
And each time I swore the trees were shifting like they were
alive in ways they shouldn't be. I was supposed to clock out
soon, but my supervisor radioed me roads were flooding and I
needed to pack up before they got any worse.
I'd done this routine in bad weather before.
Heck I've practically lived at this park, on rough nights, but
something in the air, this time felt genuinely off.
The booth light gave me just enough illumination to see the
Sheets of Rain pounding. The dirt road.
Beyond that Shadows ran together like ink on wet paper.
I double check the lock on the money box.
Then shoved my gear into my backpack the second I stepped
outside the downpour smacked me so hard.
I almost Dove back in water was pooling around my boots and
visibility was down to a few yards at best my flashlight
created a jittery beam, that kept bouncing off, raindrops,
making it hard to tell what was just a swaying branch and what
might be something else. Thunder cracked again and I
nearly dropped my keys. It was so loud.
I felt The Rumble in my chest, as I fumbled to secure the booth
door, a flicker of movement, caught my attention.
It wasn't just a gust of wind or a trick of the light.
There was a silhouette tall and gangly standing deeper in the
Darkness. The way it shifted reminded me
of an animal trying to walk upright.
Like it wasn't designed for two legs.
Rain soaked my jacket in seconds, but I couldn't tear my
eyes away because that shape was definitely looking back.
I tried to pretend it was just a deer or something harmless, but
my gut told me, otherwise, I snapped out of my days, long
enough to break into a run for my car.
Water. Splashed up my shins with every
step. My hands were shaking so badly.
I almost couldn't fit the key in the door.
By the time I got inside my clothes were plastered to my
skin and my heart hammered like it was trying to punch its way
out. Turning the key in the ignition,
I heard the dreaded click of a dead engine.
I muttered. A few Choice words, praying.
It was just a hiccup. On my second try the engine
coughed into life lightning flared again and for a split
second I glimpsed that figure closer than before it's
elongated limbs bent at Erie angles.
I jammed the car into drive and peeled out faster than I ever
done in park property. The radio which should have been
blasting. My supervisors voice hissed with
static Normally these things are Built Tough.
They've worked through hail and snow without a glitch, but now
it was nothing but white noise, rain hammered the windshield,
the entire ride back, my tires slipped more than once on the
muddy road and it felt like the storm was trying to keep me from
reaching the main Lodge. The headlights up the drizzle in
a frantic swirl and even with the wipers going at full speed,
I could barely see every so often.
I thought I spotted something on the edge of my vision darting
between the trees when I finally rolled into the lot relief
flooded me. The office lights glowed faintly
through the storm promising. Some scrap of normalcy.
I slowed to park thinking, maybe I'd imagined it all.
But a lean shape impossibly quick zipped across the beams of
my headlights. It was thinner than anything.
I'd seen before. Limbs too long posture.
Almost predatory. I killed the engine and sat
there and stunned silence soaked and on edge.
Rain hammered the roof and thunder rumbled.
But my focus was on the darkness Beyond the Lights.
Nothing else moved yet. The hair on the back of my neck.
Refused to settle. I needed to get inside, let them
know the night had taken a strange turn.
But for a moment I just stayed put listening to the storm and
trying to convince myself. I hadn't witnessed something
that defied reason. Eventually, I mustered up the
courage to hurry from my car to the office door.
I went in dripping water all over the floor, not really sure
how I had explained that I saw something that looked nothing
like a normal animal, maybe it was stress.
Maybe it was just the storm, making me see shapes.
I told myself that once the rain passed, everything would be
fine. But deep down, I knew the park
was different now and I had a bad feeling, the knights events
were only the beginning. I've always thought of myself as
pretty resilient. After that stormy night though,
I noticed my senses were on high alert.
Every time a branch snapped or a leaf.
Rustled, I had spin around expecting to see something
lurking. My co-workers teased me about
being jumpy, but they didn't experience what I did it was
like the forest had changed overnight and I couldn't pretend
otherwise That evening I was assigned to do the final Trail
check before closing a standard Duty, where we make sure no one
stuck or lost. I headed out around 9:00 with a
headlamp and my usual gear. The place of officially shuts
down at 11:00 but we start clearing people early in case
someone has an emergency or the path is too dark to navigate.
Normally the routine is simple. Enough walk.
The main Loop call out a few. Hey anybody still out here lines
and move on this time, the walk felt different from the very
start The first half mile passed in silence.
The quiet was unsettling know, owls, no nighttime insects
humming. My footsteps echoed in a way
they never had before crunching leaves and twigs underfoot.
After a while, I thought maybe this was me overreacting again.
But as I reached a bend in the trail, something drifting on the
breeze made my stomach turn a rancid smell like soggy, fur
mixed with rotting vegetation. It was strong enough to make me
pause and cover my nose. I swung my headlamp toward the
trees. Trying to pinpoint The Source.
He had. All I saw were dense Trunks and
shrubs shifting slightly in the breeze.
Further in the odor grew more pungent practically clinging to
the air. Just as I considered turning
back early, annoys ripped through the silence, a sound so
distorted. It was hard to believe.
It came from a living creature. It was Lopez pitched drawn out
almost like several voices. Melding into a single agonized
howl. I froze for a second scanning.
The darkness. My heart hammered a second cry.
Echoed from behind me as if something else was calling out
in response. The layering made it impossible
to determine distance or Direction.
It was like the whole Forest throbbed with these Eerie
sounds. Fear jolted through me.
I'd never encountered animals like this in The Preserve.
Coyotes have their distinct Yips and owls have Hoots but nothing
I knew match that alien cacophony.
Normally, I'd power through the full loop.
We're not supposed to leave until we're certain, nobody
still on the trail, but my instincts were screaming that
this was bigger than a normal Wildlife risk.
Another Roar burst through the are closer this time.
Vibrating in my chest My legs started moving before I even
realized it. I turned around and headed back
the way. I came shining, my headlamp left
and right to make sure I wasn't about to run into anything.
Leaves crackled behind me at an alarming Pace.
Like something was mimicking, my speed.
It's hard to keep calm. When every step you take is
matched by another set of footsteps.
The path Twisted in a serpentine pattern, forcing me to slow at
Corners. Each time, I felt completely
exposed my breath, came in ragged gasps and sweat.
Dripped down my temples, even though the evening was chilly,
Eventually I spotted a faint glow from the small Lantern near
the trailhead. I pushed myself to move faster.
My ankles wobbled on the uneven ground a few times but
adrenaline forced me onward. The bizarre chorus still echoed
shifting in tone until it felt almost metallic.
I could sense. Something pacing me from the
Shadows hidden, just beyond the beam of my headlamp.
When I reached the trailhead At Last I was breathing hard
scanning the forest behind me. Only then did I realize how
quiet it had become? Whatever was chasing me had gone
silent or maybe it was just waiting.
My hands trembled. As I texted my supervisor
saying, the sweep was done leaving out the details.
I wasn't ready to explain what it happened.
Clambering into my car. I locked the doors and stared at
the black silhouettes of the trees.
They stood there, unresponsive revealing nothing even with the
engine running, my nerves felt shot, I can handle animals, but
I've never confronted anything like that.
Part of me wanted to turn around.
Go back in and prove, I wasn't just being paranoid another part
insisted that was a terrible idea.
I managed to drive to the lodge and give a half-hearted report.
Nobody asked many questions, they were just relieved, I'd
done the sweep, but in the back of my mind, I kept picturing
these twisting shapes. Hearing those Blended cries.
Something was out there something I couldn't classify
and the worst part was knowing I'd probably have to head back
into the trails again. Soon the thought clung to me the
rest of the night like a warning.
I couldn't ignore. I started noticing everything
that shouldn't be there. Strange tracks in the mud
ominous. Scratch marks on the fence near
the lodge and a lingering odor. Nobody could explain.
My colleague wrote it off as scavengers, or maybe just my
imagination but I was done brushing it aside.
Something was definitely lurking among these old trails and I was
determined to figure out what I rummaged through my grandparents
old trunk at home, where I keep the protective charms, my family
swears by I picked one, I hadn't worn in years.
A small carved symbol that always struck me as both
comforting and menacing it felt right for what I was up against.
After all the strange sightings were not letting up and I was
convinced that the preserved some presents not found in any
Field Guide. That night, I decided to return
to the deepest part of the trail Network alone.
Maybe it was a mistake, but I needed answers.
My flashlight was upgraded with fresh batteries and I stowed a
flare gun in my backpack, just in case, most people would say
that was Overkill, but I had experienced enough to know
better. The moment I stepped onto the
path. The forest greeted me with a
suffocating Stillness. each step sank into damp leaves, as if the
ground itself was trying to pull me in, Close to a clearing the
foul stench appeared again. Stronger this time clinging to
my nostrils and triggering a wave of nausea.
My pulse thudded against my eardrums keeping the flash light
beam steady. I scan the trees, a flash of
movement, flitted between thick trunks, It was so tall and
unnaturally lean disappearing before I could focus.
On Earthly howls, Rose in the distance, more jarring than
before, like a chorus of distorted voices.
Echoing through a massive tunnel With each new call, I felt
cornered. And my mind, reeled at the
thought of multiple creatures roaming out their branches
rustled overhead despite no wind.
Dim, yellowish Reflections like eyes winked in and out beyond
the reach of my light. One was directly to my left,
another behind me, and a third deeper in the Darkness.
My breath turned ragged. I fumbled for the flare gun,
half thinking, I might scare them off with a blinding Flash.
A loud snap erupted from a few yards away and I accidentally
fired the flare. Crimson light seared, the night
revealing shapes crouched within the Gloom.
Their limbs bent in ways that made my skin crawl.
The stench grew overpowering Instinct took over.
I sprinted down the path. Feeling brushed, snagging my
clothes and leaving scratches on my arms.
The Echoes of those howls, followed me accompanied by
thrashing movements that never seemed far enough behind.
I stumbled more than once struggling to keep my balance on
the uneven Trail, but the surge of fear propelled me forward
when I finally broke free into a small open area near the main
Trailhead. I Whirled around expecting to
see them closing in the forest, had gone eerily still again.
My flash, light trembled in my grass.
Casting shaky beams on bare ground and twisted, tree roots.
No sign of those silhouettes. Yet the odor lingered as if the
air itself had absorbed it. I made it back to the parking
lot in record time slammed my gear, into my car and dropped
into the driver's seat. Trying to catch my breath.
For a moment, I sat there in total disbelief replaying the
scene in my mind, although I managed to escape, I realized, I
just confirmed my worst suspicions.
There was more than one of those things and they wanted me off
their territory. After returning, I considered
warning, the rest of the staff but fear and pride clashed in my
mind who would believe me and yet the truth pressed down on me
ignoring it was no longer an option.
I might not have discovered what these entities truly are or how
far their domain stretches. But one fact, burned itself into
my thoughts, The Preserve belongs to them once the sun
goes down and I doubt their leaving anytime soon.
I remember the sun beating down on our station wagon as we
bumped along, the winding dirt road.
My grandfather Marshall was at the wheel determined to find
some perfect spot for the picnic.
He'd been talking about all week.
My grandmother Lucille, sat stiffly in the passenger seat
pretending to be calm in the back.
I was crammed between my two aunts Sherry, and Marsha, who
were bickering, about, who was hogging the most space mom was
trying to referee but her voice was nearly drowned out by the
rumble of gravel under the tires.
Marshall finally spotted a clearing and pulled over.
I was thrilled to escape the cramped car, but it didn't take
long for my eagerness to turn sour the air itself seemed
oddly, stagnant, two, still like the woods were keeping a secret
Normally, I would have been running around collecting
wildflowers or climbing on Old stumps, but something tugged at
me to stay close to everyone else.
We started unloading the trunk. Lucille.
Spread a blanket on a patch of grass, while Mom fussed over a
basket of sandwiches. Marshall, who never explained
himself announced, he was going to look for something out past
the tree line. The rest of us huddled in the
clearing. Trying not to wonder why?
He'd stalk off without another word.
My aunts usually loved exploring, but this time they
stayed put fiddling with the cups and plates like they were
afraid to wander too far. As I helped lay out the plates,
Sherry nudged, me eyes wide. She jerked her chin toward a
mound of dirt. That looked freshly tossed.
It sat just outside the Ring of sunlight partly in the shade of
an old oak. Stones were half buried on top,
making it look like a little grave too big for a rabbit or a
stray raccoon. My stomach felt heavy.
I glanced at Lucille hoping for reassurance but she avoided my
gaze. She told us very firmly to leave
that mound alone. The Shake in her voice.
Made it clear, she didn't have a good explanation.
Cherry and Marcia. Tried to shrug it off saying,
we'd seen weird things in the forest before, but I knew they
were scared. The chatter we usually had on
outings had vanished. Even mom was
uncharacteristically, quiet Lucille, busied herself laying
out napkins though. Her hands trembled whenever she
thought nobody was looking hoping to distract ourselves.
We set out the rest of the food for a minute.
It felt almost normal again. Like we could still turn this
day around, but as we settled down, Marcia stiffened, she
pointed toward a thick branch overhead.
A rope hung from it, a loop tied at the end, gently rocking in
the breeze that had finally stirred.
We all froze. I tried to tell myself, it was
some weird hunting setup, maybe a leftover snare, or something.
But a slow dread inch through me as I realized this wasn't the
kind of thing people just leave behind.
Lucille glanced at it face drained of color and mumbled
about nothing to worry about. But it was obvious.
She wasn't convinced all of us just sat there rigid and uneasy
scanning the trees waiting for Marshall to come back and
wishing. We hadn't driven so far from
home. The quiet started to feel
suffocating. Each little crunch of leaves in
the distance, made us tense. The picnic we'd planned.
So happily was devolving into a silent, watch over that mound
and that rope With every passing moment I became more certain
that something was deeply wrong and we were stuck in the middle
of it. Waiting for a man who never
showed fear to return from somewhere deeper in the woods.
I remember all of us huddling together after noticing that
rope We were on edge debating. If we should pack up and leave
or wait for Marshall to come back.
Nobody wanted to say it out loud, but we all had the same
unspoken question. What if something was really
wrong? Lucille kept Whispering.
It's just an old rope that's all but it felt more like she was
trying to convince herself. Ants, Sherry and Marcia stayed
close by Mom glancing around. As if the forest itself might
lash out. Even the breeze rustling,
through the leaves fell off. Every flutter of motion had me
scanning. The edges of the clearing
wondering, if I see a figure behind a tree or some Shadow
darting away, suddenly a low rhythmic thud came from deep in
the woods. it was so faint at first that I wondered, if I had
imagined it, Then it grew more, distinct three sharp beats, then
a pause three more, a pause over and over.
Mom's face tightened. Nobody spoke the Beats rattled
me more than any crashing noise. Could have.
It felt deliberate like someone or several people wanted to send
a message. Marcia dared to say, maybe it's
just Hunters. But Sherry Cut Her Off, shaking
her head. we all knew this, didn't sound like any hunting
ritual, we'd heard about, the drum, like pulsing kept going
and the tension around us climbed Lucille.
Knelt and tried to gather the cups and leftover food.
Like, maybe if we tidied up the odd, chanting would vanish. the
clink of plastic felt absurdly loud against the hushed,
clearing, Then the voices joined in.
It was a strange hum layered in a way that made it impossible to
tell how many people were out there.
Each Echo merged with the drum beats and tilt like the air was
vibrating. I felled in my chest like a
pulse that wouldn't quit Lucille.
Shot me a look. Her eyes were wide and she
opened her mouth as if to say something but stayed silent
instead. No one wanted to admit, we might
be surrounded with Marshall gone.
We were stuck leaving him behind wasn't an option but staying in
that clearing felt more dangerous by the second.
The rhythmic chanting crept closer, swelling and volume.
It wasn't random noise, it had a pattern, almost like a ceremony
a few times. I thought I, glimpsed movement
among the trees, but whenever I tried to focus, it was gone
replaced by shifting Shadows. Sherry clutched.
My arm and pointed to the mound. Nothing had changed about it
yet, somehow, it seemed more Sinister, like, it was connected
to that drum beat. I kept imagining something or
someone buried their The chanting reverberated in my
ears. My own breathing felt shallow.
I didn't want to show how spooked I was, but it was too
strong a feeling to hide. We bunched together on the
picnic blanket. Hardly aware of the food.
We'd scattered around early. The only thing anyone cared
about was spotting Marshall's return.
The wait was excruciatingly. I glanced at mom, she attempted
to steady her breathing though. Her hand trembled on the baskets
handle. Lucille, scan the tree line, her
fingers curled into fists at her side's, the voice is rose again.
This time deeper more urgent, the three beats of the drum
hammered away, punctuated by these guttural chants The forest
seemed to close in a wall of thick Trunks and branches that
trapped us. I kept wishing we'd never left
home or that we'd settled on a different patch of woods
anywhere else. The Strain on my nerves was
overwhelming and I knew everyone else felt it too.
Then Marshall burst into view, practically tearing through the
undergrowth. He yelled at the top of his
lungs eyes wild and complexion pale.
For a split. Second, none of us moved.
We were so stunned to see him. Look that distraught.
Lucille jolted into action first, grabbing whatever she
could mom hustled the rest of us to our feet and we bolted for
the car. All of us spurred on by the fear
and Marshall's voice. I kept glancing over my shoulder
as we ran the chanting seemed impossibly loud echoing between
the trees and pounding in my ears.
Although I couldn't see anyone out there, the drum beats and
voices gave the impression we were being watched from all
sides. If we'd stayed, I'm not sure
we'd have made it out. By the time we scrambled into
the car, I was so unnerved that I could barely focus on.
Shutting the door behind me. Marshall slammed, the driver's
door, started the engine and tore away as we lurched forward.
I peeked out the back window. The clearing vanished behind
swaying branches, but the noise still, followed us lingering in
the distance, like an evil Echo, whatever was out there.
We had no desire to face it again.
Marshall's foot slammed on the gas and we jolted forward, so
fast that I nearly pitched into the back of the front seat.
None of us said a word everyone stared at him, trying to
understand what had shaken him up so badly.
He gripped, the wheel with Knuckles, turning white eyes,
flicking to the rear view mirror, like he expected
something or someone to burst out onto the dirt road behind
us. I caught a glimpse of Lucille.
My grandmother trembling Her usual calm was gone replaced by
raw visible fear. Sherry and Marsha sat on either
side of me, heads whipping, back to check if we were being
followed. Mom was curled up front pressing
a trembling hand to her mouth. The chanting.
And drumming might have faded in the distance, but it felt like
it was still pounding in my ears.
The road was bumpy and riddled with potholes.
Every jerk of the car scent, our leftover picnic stuff rattling
around in the trunk. Part of me, expected the engine
to stall or a tire to blow leaving a stranded.
But Marshall, just kept going weaving around branches and
debris as though, he'd driven this path a million times
before. Every so often he glanced over
at Lucille, who looked like she was bracing for an impact that
never came. After what felt like an hour
though, it might have only been minutes.
We finally reached the main road, the forest thin out,
replaced by sprawling Fields. I'd never felt such relief
seeing Open Sky. The silence in the car was
thick. None of us wanted to break it by
asking questions we knew he wouldn't answer.
And yet 1,000 questions swirled in my mind, like what he'd
witnessed out there. Whether he saw the source of the
chanting and why he looked so spooked.
Once we got home, Marshall through the car, into park and
marched inside Lucille, and Mom began, unloading, whatever they
could. But everything was such a mess
that we barely knew where to start.
There were smashed sandwiches, soaked, blankets, and plastic
cups covered in dirt. My aunt's hovered in the
driveway exchanging uneasy looks the warmth of the sun didn't
help. We were all chilled in our own
way. I headed inside following the
dull thud of Marshall's, boots down the hallway, he was in the
kitchen leaning against the counter staring at the floor.
I asked him if he was okay voice shaking despite my best efforts
to sound calm. He looked at me with a stare
that almost stopped my breath, then snapped, don't ever ask me
about this again. It was like a door slamming.
Shut mom. And Lucille came in behind me,
both of them looking just as stunned.
None of us tried to get any more words out of him.
We Knew by now that once he drew a line, there was no Crossing
it. In the days that followed we
tiptoed around him hoping maybe he'd open up on his own.
He never did. I remember lying in bed that
night, barely sleeping replaying, the days of events,
The drum beats echoed in my head every time I close my eyes I
pictured the Rope hanging from that.
Narrowed brand I tried telling myself, it was just a bad dream.
But the image wouldn't leave me. Mom mentioned the mound a few
times wondering if there was something buried or if it was
some bizarre prank. But no one had a real answer.
A hush fell over our house thick with the weight of Marshalls
unspoken Terror. As the weeks passed, it became
clear. No one was going to the police.
Marshall wouldn't have tolerated it and none of us could even
articulate. What we'd report some chanting
in the woods, a mound that looked too big to be an animal
and a ropes swaying in the breeze.
It all sounded unreal, the moment you tried putting it into
words So we let it Fester the rest of the family eventually
filed. It away under weird things that
happened but I never managed to lock it away so easily.
To this day, the entire ordeal. Lingers in my mind, the image of
Marshall unshakable stoned Marshall running for his life
through the trees. Whenever I think back, it's
impossible. Not to wonder what he saw in
that Forest. Whatever it was, he carried that
fear to the end of his days. And if he never slept peacefully
after that outing, I can't say I'd be surprised.
I still catch myself listening for drum beats.
Sometimes, half expecting that dark chanting to roll over the
horizon and find me again. We started out just Before
Sunrise, backpacks, stuffed and shoulders already aching from
all the gear weed crammed in. stepping onto the trail at
Redwood Gap, I felt a Twist of excitement and unease The path
hugged a steep Hillside the ground cold and damp beneath.
My boots, Devin walked up front. Whistling a tune off key and
Chris brought up the rear constantly, fiddling with the
straps on his pack. I took the middle spot my senses
sharper than usual, the trees, overhead formed a canopy.
So thick that even the early light struggled to reach us,
Each breath, tasted like wet leaves and morning fog, I kept
training my neck, trying to pick out any sign of wildlife or
other hikers. But the place to deserted not
silent though. Somewhere in the distance water
flowed. And every so often a branch
snapped echoing across the valley.
We made good progress for the first few miles passing stunted
shrubs and weaving through narrow switchbacks.
At one point, I nearly lost my footing on loose gravel and
Devin had to yank me. Upright He laughed cracking a
joke about me. Needing better balance.
I gave him a half-hearted grin but I couldn't help scanning the
tree line waiting for some unknown presence to reveal
itself. By midday the sun pierced
through and patches lighting up sections of the trail.
We paused on a rocky Overlook to catch our breath and I stared
down into a valley filled with evergreens.
Everything looked peaceful from up there.
Chris said something about wanting to eat lunch, but Devin
insisted on pushing another hour before breaking We'd heard that
Lake Vesper. Our Target for the night wasn't
too far away and he wanted a longer rest at camp.
The last stretched toward the lake turned into a sloth.
My shoulders ached, sweat stuck to every inch of my skin and the
trail took on this cluster phobic feeling the trees pressed
in and the air seemed heavy or Chris tried to lighten the mood
by telling dumb jokes about some local Legend.
He'd read online stuff about Hermits who lived off the land.
Devin rolled his eyes, but I found myself looking over my
shoulder more often. When we finally reached Lake
Vesper the site was mesmerizing Crystal clear water lapped at a
pebble strewn Shore, tall rocks, framing it like giant centuries.
We dropped our packs and collapsed onto the nearest
Boulders relief washing over us. Devin started setting up the
tents while Chris gathered Fallen branches for the
campfire. I looked out at the lake
noticing how still it was like a sheet of glass reflecting the
sky, after we'd settled in, we lit a small fire.
The crackling Flames offered a reassuring light in the growing
Darkness. We passed around a canteen
sharing swigs of water that felt unbelievably refreshing.
And for a moment we relaxed The world beyond our camp dissolved
into black shadows and the occasional Russell of branches
made me tenants. Chris and Devon laughed at me
for jumping at the slightest sound, but I knew I wasn't just
being paranoid. I busied myself with
reorganizing gear anything to keep my hands occupied.
eventually we all huddled around the fire exchanging stories of
past trips bragging about who carried the heaviest pack and
guessing how tough the next day is terrain, might be The crackle
of the flames and the rhythm of Devin's, teasing banter, almost
lulled me into a false sense of comfort.
Almost, it was that first night in the wilderness, our guard
down, our minds, eager for rest. When a subtle awareness began to
creep in Something felt off. I couldn't name it, maybe it was
the way the wind died, abruptly leaving the night, thick with a
hush. Maybe it was the way the trees
blocked out. The moon creating walls of
Darkness beyond the glow of the fire, regardless, a prickling
unease settled over me as we finally crawled into our tents,
And so began our journey. A supposed five-day Trek that
felt like a calling one moment and a dire warning.
The next With redwood Gap. Now behind us, we prepared to
face the challenges and the strange suspicions.
Looming ahead. I woke up to the sound of Devon
unzipping, his tent groaning, softly about sore legs and a
stiff back. My own shoulders felt like
someone had kicked them all night, and Chris looked like he
hadn't slept much either. None of us admitted it but the
knights Eerie quiet had put us on edge.
We ate a quick breakfast oatmeal.
The tasted like cardboard and tore down Camp eager to move on.
The trail led us deeper into the Wilderness.
The trees and brush pressed in from both sides.
Making the path feel almost claustrophobic.
Every once in a while, the wind would stir the branches overhead
creating this low whisper that faded too quickly.
We trudged through the morning in near silence stepping over
gnarled roots and skirting around.
Muddy sections of Trail. After a few miles, we reached a
small sign pointing toward Mossy Fork.
Devin had read about, Mossy Fork online, supposedly a wide
shallow stream, perfect for refilling canteens, but none of
us were prepared for just how densely overgrown the area was.
Thick Moss, blanketed every trunk and rock adding a soggy
hush to the place. We paused by the water, took off
our packs and filtered enough to last us until we got to our next
camp. That's one, I noticed footprints
on The Damp Bank space wide and deep like someone heavy had been
pacing there. Chris Shrugged saying it was
probably an old hikers footprints.
Devin and I weren't so sure the edges looked fresh.
Still, we had miles to cover. So we pressed on By
mid-afternoon we broke out into a sunlit clearing near Lake
Camilla. It felt like stumbling onto an
oasis after hours of Gloom. The lake sparkled framed by
rough Boulders and Tall Grass. We decided to call it home for
the night, hoping for a more peaceful evening.
We pitched our tents quickly. Then took turns washing off the
sweat and dirt near the shoreline.
It wasn't exactly a spa bath but it helped.
Knight descended faster than expected and the air grew cold.
We lit a small fire cooking freeze-dried meals and joking
about how good a burger would taste.
Devin claimed, he kept catching glimpses of movement across the
water. Chris tried shining his flash
light but we saw nothing except our warped Reflections on the
surface. I realized how edgy we all were.
Every time a twig snapped or August rattled, the bushes, our
conversation ground to a halt. Later as we were dozing in front
of the fire, Devon cleared his throat and pulled out a small
plastic pouch. He said he'd brought mushrooms
for fun. I stared at him.
Stunned. Chris just grind.
Like he'd been waiting for this moment.
My gut said it was a terrible idea, but I was out voted.
They insisted, we only had enough for a light experience.
Nothing Wild. I reluctantly agreed figuring
half a dose. Wouldn't kill me.
We swallowed them. And at first, nothing happened
aside from giggles at our own stupidity, but after about half
an hour, the forest seemed to breathe with us.
Colors. Sharpened Shadows.
Grew more defined. An odd sense of curiosity,
bubbled up in my chest, like I wanted to wander off and see
everything around me in a new light.
I meandered a short distance from the fire watching the tree.
Branches sway, overhead. Something in the corner of my
vision, darted behind a trunk. I froze calling out to Devon and
Chris to see if they were messing with me, but they were
still by the fire laughing about some insight joke.
My eyes strained to adjust but the shape whatever it was
slipped deeper into the darkness.
We chalked it up to our altered state, though.
My skin kept tingling as if someone stood behind me Devin
insisted we all stay close to camp.
We have eventually crawled into our tents, but sleep was Out Of
Reach half the time. I felt like I could hear
movement circling our little campsite Twigs crunched leaves
rustled. Chris grunted in frustration
shining his flashlight out of his tent, every 10 minutes.
By Dawn, we were exhausted dreading the next days.
Climb to Beckwith pass. The mushrooms had worn off, but
our nerves remained rattled. We packed up in a hurry quietly
agreeing. There was no point in hanging
around Lake. Camilla any longer.
Something about that night, those Footprints the unknown
figure. Sank a lingering anxiety into
our bones. We headed toward Beckwith pass
with heavy steps. Each of us lost in our own
worried thoughts. The trail started to rise
twisting over Rocky, Ledges and offering occasional glimpses of
steep valleys below. August kicked up gravel at one
point, nearly blinding me. Chris cursed under his breath
and Devon kept muttering about how we'd better not see any more
weird shapes in the dark. We had no idea just how
unsettling the next night would become.
We woke at dawn, the last of our energy reserve's Running on
Fumes my calves, cramped, as soon as I tried to stand and
Devon looked like he'd been wrestling invisible enemies all
night. His eyes were bloodshot and he
gripped his trekking poles with White Knuckles.
Chris was muttering to himself, something about how we should
have broken this route into six days instead of five.
None of us, had it in us to argue.
We had 19 miles to cover. If we wanted to reach Cedar,
Notch Trailhead before, dark 19 miles of rocks switchbacks and
unsteady ground. I forced some trail mix down
tasting, mostly salt and dust. Then filled up my water from the
last stream, we passed the climbing wasn't as steep now but
our feet dragged every step jarring, our joints.
Nobody cracked jokes anymore. Even Devin's usual chatter dried
up. By midday the sun, pounded down
mercilessly, the trees thinned out, leaving us on an exposed
Ridge. every time a gust whip through bits of gravel stung,
our cheeks My thoughts, drifted back to that strange shape?
I saw near Lake Camilla and the footprints at Mossy Forte.
I kept glancing over my shoulder half expecting to see someone
trailing behind us with a crazed grin but the trail snaked on
empty in both directions. It was well into the evening.
When we finally spotted a wooden sign that indicated the cedar
Notch Trailhead was near. Relief washed over me.
Maybe we'd outrun our paranoia. We found a small clearing tucked
off to the side far enough from the main path that we felt.
We'd get some privacy. The area was flatter than
anything else. We'd seen all day so we wasted
no time pitching our tents. Chris gathered, what little dry
wood he could find and we scraped together a week, fire,
the Flames, flickered feebly, but it was enough to cook our
last rations. Devin and I split a bag of
dehydrated chili Bland, but warm Despite our exhaustion, we
stayed awake a while staring into those Flames.
As if they were our last barrier against whatever might lurk in
the dark. I remember the conversation
turning sentimental. Something about how we never
have time like this anymore. How life gets too busy and how
much this trip reminded us of why we became friends.
It was a bitter, sweet moment. All the more precious Because
deep down, none of us, felt totally safe.
Then I heard footsteps. A steady crunch crunch of
someone approaching through Dry underbrush.
I tense my heart thudding and motioned for Devon and Chris to
stay quiet. Out of the corner of the
firelight, a man limped into view.
He looked short and stocky wearing a heavy coat that had
definitely seen better days. The faint, orange glow, revealed
a sunken portion on the left side of his jaw like part of his
bone was missing. His cheek dipped inward giving
his face a lopsided, Eerie appearance, He said something in
a warped Mumble I couldn't quite catch.
Evening, he repeated louder this time and I realized he was
asking to share our fire for a moment.
Devin swallowed, hard, and Kristen say a word.
We had no idea if he was armed or if he'd been following us.
But we all instinctively shifted over to make room, probably more
out of fear than hospitality. He settled in staring into the
Flames with cold, dark eyes. Up close.
He smelled like sour sweat, and damper Earth as if he'd been
living out in the woods for weeks, maybe months.
After an awkward silence, he started talking about the trail
asking if we'd come far. His voice had a low shaky
quality like his jaw, made it difficult to annunciate.
Chris tried to keep his tone, casual.
Yeah, we just finished a five-day route heading home
tomorrow. The man nodded slowly lips
curling in a crooked smile. You Got The Look of folks who've
been out here a while he said, Then he asked if we were armed.
The question hung in the air. Devin cleared his throat.
We have something small, he replied.
He didn't say it was a handgun, but the man seemed to
understand. Anyway, he leaned forward gaze,
flicking between us. Good.
He grunted. You never know who you'll run
into. That line set my nerves on edge,
was it a threat or just an observation?
A few beats of tense silence, followed the campfire crackling
between us. That's when he started telling a
story one, that paralleled our journey way too closely.
He described three hikers Lost In The Hills, making noise at
night poking, their nose as where they didn't belong.
He mentioned how they whooped and hollered near a lake,
disturbing the peace of the locals and I realized he was
talking about us. My pulse pounded, as he
recounted details only someone spying on us could know.
And almost fall off a ridge the chatter by the water.
Our nighttime struggles He spat insults at these arrogant City
boys who didn't respect the land and I felt my stomach.
Not Chris looked Furious about to speak up but I gave him a
slight Shake of the head. A stranger's eyes narrowed like
a predators and I couldn't shake the sense that we weren't alone.
He went on about how the forest had families old families, who
didn't take kindly to Intruders and he described how one
particular stranger approached the hikers on their final night.
My blood turned icy, it was him. And here he was practically
confessing he'd been following us possibly not by himself.
Devon tried to stand up but the strangers stayed put a smug.
Look on his battered face. He ended his story by saying the
hikers. Finally got wise to who really
owned these Hills. The unspoken threat made my skin
crawl. Then with a slow deliberate
motion, he rose to his feet and limped backward, letting the
firelight dance across his disfigured jaw.
Be on your way soon. He told us if you know, what's
good for you, He turned and walked off into the dark.
But I heard more than one set of footsteps fading away.
Like someone else was out there, hidden from View.
Neither Chris nor Devon spoke for a long moment.
The night pressed in on us and the realization that we'd been
shadowed all this time. Ripped away.
Any sense of safety we had In a flurry of panicked motion, we
packed up. We barely bothered with neatness
just shoved, our tents and gear into our bags.
Chris clutched. The handgun.
Ready to fire at the slightest movement?
I swung my flashlight left and right half expecting to see a
dozen shapes lurking in the brush.
We left that campsite behind stumbling through the dark,
Guided by trembling beams of light.
Every so often, I caught a flicker of movement, in my
peripheral vision, but I couldn't be sure if it was the
wind or some figures stalking us.
We must have pushed ourselves. Another few miles body's aching
teeth, chattering and fear, before we fell to even remotely
comfortable stopping to breed. When we finally dropped to the
ground, our hands shaking, we looked at one another in silent
understanding. We might have escaped the
immediate danger but the memory of that stranger and his mocking
knowing gaze would follow us for a long time.
Exhaustion crashed over me, but I couldn't sleep.
All I could do was listen every nerve primed for the slightest,
snap of a twig or rustle of leaves.
My mind stuck in a loop replaying that strangers grin
and the Eerie certainty that he hadn't been alone.
In the morning, if we even made it that long, we'd get out of
these Woods. but I suspected that part of me would always
stay behind haunted by the knowledge that dark corners of
the Wilderness are occupied by people who fiercely guard, their
domain silently watching every unsuspecting passerby This event
took place around 1992. I was just a young man in the
military stationed at Fort Hood. Texas, those of you who are
familiar with Fort Hood, will know what I'm talking about when
I say, North Fort Hood. For those who aren't familiar,
let me try to explain. So, you'll better understand
why? We were where we were.
When this happened Fort Hood, is a very large military base,
probably one of the largest by land area in the United States,
the main base, where you find all the buildings and motor
Pools full of vehicles, and so forth is simply called Fort
Hood. It is on the south end of the
overall land, that comprises Fort Hood and just outside its
Gates is the town of Killeen. Most of Fort Hood is Wilderness
training areas for soldiers, and a large impact area for the
artillery units that have to train with their cannons at the
far Northern end of the base. There is a small complex called
North Fort Hood. It takes about 30 or 40 minutes
to drive from the main base up to North Fort Hood in the early
90s. There was not much in the way of
buildings or infrastructure at North Fort Hood, The unit, I was
assigned to had to calibrate a piece of equipment, which
required at it to be set up and left in place for about a week
while the calibration took place.
I'm not going to get into the details about this equipment as
it's not vital to the story. What's important is that we had
to set this equipment up at North Fort Hood during the
process. During the day, some soldiers
were there working on calibrations.
But at night, we obviously weren't just going to leave this
expensive equipment on guarded. So every night we would leave
Two Soldiers with the equipment to keep an eye on things and
make sure nothing happened to it.
It was very easy Duty by every measure.
There was a tent to stay in and plenty of food.
Soldiers, who stayed the night? Got the next day off.
Basically, we would sit in the tent play cards or some other
game and just keep an eye on things, it was basically
camping. I volunteered to take a Thursday
night as my turn at guard Duty because I had vacation leave
time starting the following Monday.
My rationale was simple, take guard Duty on Thursday night,
get Friday off and start my leave time early.
It was myself. And another young soldier who
was a friend of mine. We were both, just kids, I had
just turned 21 and I believe he was 19 or so, keep in mind that
this was 1992. So, while cell phones did exist,
they were by no means as prolific as they are now.
It was pretty rare to see someone with a cell phone and if
you did, it was usually in a big leather carrying bag, we call
the back phone's, and they were very expensive.
Needless to say neither of us had a cell phone.
Why is that important? Because we were dropped off for
guard Duty around 5 p.m. everyone else left, and we had
no vehicle or way to communicate with anyone.
We were entirely alone if anything happened.
And of course, we weren't expecting anything to happen.
It was, after all very easy, Duty, watch the equipment, play
some cards, eat some Chow. No problem.
We were sitting in the tent, when the first wins started to
pick up and I noticed storm clouds, moving in from the West.
Whoever had set up that hex tent apparently had no interest in
doing it properly because as the winds got worse, the tent leaned
as though it might fold at any moment.
Clearly, we were about to get hit with a pretty severe
thunderstorm. Anyone who has ever lived in
Central. Texas can tell you that storms
there can blow up quickly and be pretty violent.
Fortunately for us, there was a deuce and a half truck there
with a shelter on the back. for those who don't know, a deuce
and a half is a large six-wheel, drive truck, if you want an idea
of what they look like, you can Google M35 A2 truck, this
particular truck had a shelter on the back and that is where we
were treated to in order to get out of the path of the
approaching storm. before anyone asks, I should note that we
couldn't drive the truck away from the campsite because it was
needed for the calibration and we wouldn't abandon our post
anyway, This falls under the first general order and anyone
who has ever been in the Army knows what I mean.
We secured ourselves in the shelter while the storm passed
and it was a typical Texas frog Strangler to be sure.
Miraculously, the tent did not blow over and I was surprised by
that. Still, we decided to stay in the
back of the truck until dawn as we had already moved, one of our
cots inside. We finally laid down at about 10
p.m. and it was very quiet. This is a very remote area and
while we were in a clearing next to a Runway, there were no
buildings, nearby all around this airstrip was just woods
today. There are buildings there.
I've looked at the location on Google Maps, but back then there
was nothing. We had left the door of the
shelter slightly open for two reasons, the shelter had no
power running to it. So there was no airflow shutting
the door would have left us susceptible to carbon monoxide.
We needed to be able to hear what was going on outside.
We decided to take turns getting some rest although we'd been
told we were allowed to sleep if we wanted to.
We were still on base and there was absolutely no reason to
expect that anything would happen.
My friend was on the cot by the shelter door and I was on the
floor at the other end. I felt like I had just dozed off
when I was shaken violently awake.
It was my friend and as I sat up, he was pulling the shelter,
door closed and trying to put a lock on it by using the light
from his wrist watch. He was obviously very upset and
scared. It was the kind of fear that
cannot be faked. This was Primal Fear I kept
asking him what was wrong, and he finally managed to tell me
that something had grabbed him by the foot and tried to pull
him from the shelter, My first thought was that he had dozed
off and had a nightmare, he insisted that he had not and
even stated that whatever grabbed him had said to him will
be back for you, then let him go.
As he was shaking me awake. I wasn't sure if it was a prank
or not, but my gut instinct was that he was petrified.
His hands were shaking as he tried to lock the shelter door.
So, there had to be some truth to it.
I told him he couldn't leave the door closed because of carbon
monoxide. I was the higher ranking
Soldier. So technically, I was in charge.
He refused to stay by the door if it was going to be open even
a little bit. So I agreed to switch places
with him. I opened the door, just a couple
of inches and lay down on the cot, still believing, he had
just had a really bad nightmare. He was on the floor at the other
end of the shelter. Within a few minutes.
Some pretty strange, things began to happen.
We heard scratching sounds on the shelter on the sides on the
top and on the front where the cab of the truck was.
A few times the door moved ever so slightly, but never opened.
Needless to say, by this time, I was convinced that something or
someone was definitely outside and both of us were pretty
scared. I reached to the end of the Cod,
I was on and pulled out the metal cross member that gives
attention. Then I felt around under the cot
and found a wooden handle to a pickaxe.
In the Army, we call these pioneering tools, but most
people would know it as a pickaxe handle without the metal
pick on the end. I handed this to my friend and
instructed him that if anyone opened the door to the shelter,
we would start swinging and wooden stop until whoever it was
went down and wasn't moving. The scratching on the exterior
of the shelter continued intermittently throughout the
night. We made no effort to call out to
whoever or whatever it was. I think we were both just in
fight mode. If anyone had pulled the shelter
door fully open, I had every intention of fighting for all.
I was worth and I'm certain my friend felt the same way.
Eventually it began to get light outside and as the sky
brightened, the scratching stopped.
We stayed in the shelter for another 40 or 50 minutes until
the sun was fully up. At that point, I said I was
going to push the door all the way open, jump off the back of
the truck and if he saw anyone, he should just start swinging.
So I counted to three flung the door open and jumped off the
truck. When you're 21, you can jump off
a deuce in a half and it doesn't hurt.
Now, I would be far more cautious.
At any rate, there was nothing no one at all.
We looked around the truck and the camp.
Nothing, what I noticed immediately was that while we
were leaving boot tracks in the still wet ground, there were no
other tracks around the truck. I began to look for loose items
on the shelter that might account for the scratching
sound, but there were none. I didn't know whether to feel
relieved or still be on edge. We packed up our gear and about
30 minutes, later the relief NCO arrived in a Humvee.
He wasn't even fully out of the truck before we were putting our
stuff in it to leave. He laughed and remarked that we
seemed really ready to go. We never told him a thing.
In fact, we never said anything to anyone.
In our unit about what happened. We probably should have, but I
think we were afraid. We would be laughed at at any
rate I got behind the wheel of the Humvee, and my friend got in
the back on the passenger side, I drove down the road aways and
came to a stop at the main Highway that we would take to
get back down to Fort Hood. At that moment, there came a
clear loud and distinct clap of Thunder.
I leaned out the window and looked up.
Then I looked back at my friend in the back of the truck and he
said something I'll never forget.
There ain't a damn cloud in the sky, man.
I believe, I probably set a record for the fastest drive
back to Fort Hood in a Humvee that morning.
I'm not one to believe in this stuff.
I think a lot of paranormal stories are just active
imaginations or people making things up.
But something happened to us that night and I will never
forget it. It's scared the hell out of me,
and I don't ever want to experience it again.
That's my story and it is 100% true.
It started in the late winter of 1978. the three of us myself,
Ronnie and Tom were working at an outdoor education, program,
high in the San Bernardino Mountains, The outdoor school
had taken over a summer camp for the winter semester.
This Camp was located in a saddle in the mountains, where
they narrowed and bent from the tectonic forces that created
them. The camp was reached by the rim
of the world Highway, which formed the western edge of the
camps property. The rim Road ran right along the
edge of the mountains, with the camp, on one side, and a steep
drop off on the other. The road crossed one of the,
many rockfalls narrow rocked Canyon's that begin at the top
of the mountain and plunged. Thousands of feet down toward
the Los Angeles, basin. We had snuck out to the Rock
Falls at night because we knew the view of the city lights
below would be spectacular. The Santa Ana or devil wins had
been blowing from the desert up over the mountains and down into
the Los Angeles Basin for the previous three days.
These winds had scrubbed every molecule of Smaug out of the
Basin offering a crystal clear unobstructed view from 7,000
feet, all the way down the canyon to the lights below.
When we arrived at our spot just before midnight, the scene could
not have been more spectacular. Standing on the other side of
the highway in a small paved pull-out, we gazed at the city
lights spread out in front of us like a giant multi-colored,
carpet of glowing geometric shapes.
Major thoroughfares were lit up in different Hues.
Depending on each jurisdiction's choice of streetlights, Even at
that, our red and white snakes of traffic could be seen
thousands of feet below. We could see all the way down to
where the lights ended and the Pacific Ocean lay in darkness.
We stood in a loose Circle, me Tom and Ronnie huddled together,
excited about the amazing sight below us.
Ronnie was the one who got down to business pulling out one of
his famous hand-rolled joints. He lit it.
As per tradition took one hit and waved in the air while
telling a story. Following the red cherry Arc
through the air as Ronnie justic is.
How I first noticed a bright, orange-ish white light coming
over the top of the mountain behind us.
It backlit the peak, then quickly appeared over it
traveling down our side of the mountain.
Following the canyon toward the basin We all noticed the change
in brightness and turn towards its origin.
At first, I heard no sound, but as it grew closer, coming down
the mountain in the next Canyon over.
I heard a noise that sounded like what I'd imagine an object
creating its own vacuum in the atmosphere would produce.
It was as though, the air itself was being ripped apart.
There was no typical aircraft noise, just a sudden vacuum and
an emptiness in the air. The UFO was vaguely pumpkin seed
shaped with a very bright reddish.
Orange glow at the thicker, head of the seed and an orange-ish
white Vapor trailing behind. It, it came over the mountain
and down the canyon at a constant height of about 100
feet above the Peaks lighting the ground beneath it.
It followed the Canyons Contour, until it reached approximately
2,000 feet above the base in below where at level down and
traveled West toward the ocean. It dropped 4,000 to 5,000 feet
down the canyon in less than 10 seconds, passing a couple of
miles to the west of us. The craft was clearly visible,
vibrantly glowing As It. Sped West also visible where the
running lights of a small plane flying in the same direction.
Slightly ahead of the UFO. As we watched the blinking
lights of the plane, we saw the UFO rapidly decelerate from its
incredible speed, down the mountain.
And then stop right next to the plane.
From our vantage point, it looked to be at the same
altitude, extremely close and to the planes left.
After matching the plane speed and Vector for about three
seconds. The UFO suddenly accelerated
forward turned left and disappeared over the Pacific
toward Mexico. It went from the easternmost
part of the Los Angeles Basin down toward Long Beach and out
of sight in less than a few seconds leaving behind, only a
faint orange, plasma Trail and a pilot who probably had a sudden
need to change his underwear. We stood there transfixed
staring at the empty space where the UFO had been then looking at
each other with a mix of awe and panic.
In our eyes. Ronnie very slowly and
deliberately crushed out the joint on the heel of his Boot
and tucked it into his pocket, then we all started talking at
once. What the hell was that?
Where did it go? Did you see it stopped next to
that plane? What can do that nothing?
That's what that was when the Panic set in.
We looked at each other and then took off running at full speed
back toward our cabins. We didn't speak of it again
until we could be together with no one else around.
How do you explain something? That sounds so crazy?
We had all seen a lot of strange things in our Collective life
times, but none of us could explain what we saw that night.
We tried to figure out how to get more information, but we
were stuck in the mountains, five days a week without TV
newspapers, or radio. This was long before the
internet. that sighting became a pivot point between the three of
us, something we would often discuss and try to figure out,
but never could after the semester ended, we went our
separate ways for the summer, Ronnie joined the California
Department of Forestry as a wildland firefighter.
Tom traveled to Hawaii to work at a YMCA summer camp and I
headed back to Big Bear to work at a YMCA Camp there and this is
where the story gets really weird.
Neither Ronnie nor Tom lived to see the end of that summer.
Ronnie was killed in the Spanish, Ranch fire near San
Luis, Obispo Less than two weeks after learning of Ronnie's
death. I heard that Tom had disappeared
off the coast of Hawaii. the story was that he had been on
the beach, got swept out to sea by a rogue wave then was eaten
by sharks and his body was never found To say that I was mentally
shaken, would be an understatement.
Having two of your friends who had witnessed an unearthly UFO,
encounter die, in such unusual ways within six months of that
sighting one by fire and one by water.
Really freaked me out. I kept thinking fire water earth
air. For years after that, I avoided
any situation where one of those elements could kill me.
That's my UFO story. I still do not know what
happened that night. All I know is that it was
completely mind-boggling and changed my life irrevocably.
I know what happened to Ronnie and have visited the site where
he died. On the other hand may still be
alive. I have a strong feeling.
He might have faked his own death, but that's a story for
another time. This happened to me in July this
year and I've been thinking about it constantly ever since
I'll try to sum up the experience as best I can.
So I'm kind of a mentally ill weirdo.
I have BPD and cptsd, and I'm a 24 year old girl who lives alone
in the city, just minding my own business.
I have a few friends, but I'm not close with my family.
It's not unusual for me to go a few weeks or months without
really seeing anyone besides co-workers, especially during a
global pandemic. So, I've just been doing my own
thing. This encounter happened during
one of those few weeks, stretches of isolation.
I'm only giving this bit of exposition, so people can
understand my site history as well as my mental state Etc.
At the start of July, I got this uncontrollable impulse to go
camping and stargaze. I never go camping alone.
I have been in around four years and had no camping gear
whatsoever, but I wanted to go for some reason, so I researched
some good dark sky spots in Utah.
Found a cute little Campground about four hours into the desert
and reserve the last spot of available for a week.
From that day, I bought all my stuff the day before I'm
horrible at planning and time management.
So by the time I arrived at the campground, the sun was already
going down, I had also forgotten my charger and realized I had to
make my 60% battery lasts until I could make it back to the city
the next day. There was no service out there
so that's seemed easy enough. My entire goal was to chill in
my hammock chair all night and stargaze anyway so all I needed
was some music for that. I specifically chose the night
of a new moon for this. So I knew I had to get my tent
set up and situated ASAP before the sun went down.
There were a lot of other people there but most were families
with kids getting ready for bed. I could hear parents reading
scripture to their kids before, bed Mormons and could see others
reading on Kindles and stuff before sleeping, by the time,
everything was set up, it was about 10 p.m.
Almost at once everyone turned their lights off and went to
sleep. This really weirded me out at
first because it was the perfect night for stargazing.
I didn't see a single other person setting up a chair to
stargaze any telescope or even just someone outside their tent,
looking up. Everyone was either already
asleep or going to sleep. I gave it some more thought and
figured they all probably just wanted to wake up before or with
the sunrise because we were in the desert Sleeping in wooden.
Exactly. Be a pleasant experience.
When you're getting cooked alive.
I imagine I work night shift, so staying up was not an issue in
the slightest. At this point.
The only people I could see who were awake.
Were myself a family at the campground vaguely near me,
reading scripture, and a whole mess of people at the bathroom.
My tent is located at the far side of the campground so to my
left is nothing but desert and cliff.
In front of me is the bathroom about 100 feet or so away.
Two, other campgrounds about 300 feet away and more desert and
sky. To my right and behind me is the
rest of the campground. There's another bathroom on the
far, side of the campground behind me to the right, which is
probably around. 7900 feet away. These two bathrooms are the only
source of any light in the campground aside from a few
people who are using their flashlights to come to and from
the bathroom. Like I said, early, I'm a
weirdo, I won't deny that which honestly makes telling this
story to others hard, My goal out here was to grieve and move
on from a lot of loss. I experience to year ago.
A lot of bad stuff happened in my life, And I lost a lot of
loved ones as a result. Sometimes a good mushroom trip.
Can really help someone find a lot of closure.
When it comes to grief, So, that was my only goal for this trip.
I ate around two grams and was coming up around 11 p.m.
Now hear me out. You might be asking what kind of
close encounter story can be believed when the person telling
it was under the influence of a psychedelic.
That's a good question and I'd say, being skeptical of a
person's experience. Under the influence of such
drugs is common sense. that being said, I want to point out
that I have a gross amount of experience with including trips
and even weirder and more isolated places than this.
I've tripped on mushrooms easily dozens of times in my life and
on acid probably over 100 times. I have kept tons of trip.
Journals have recordings from trips Etc.
Never once has anything. Like this happened to me before
or since I have never seen things, while tripping have
never interacted with entities. have never had thoughts or
paranoia about something being there, that's not I always have
the same Trip's, some textures, get wavy, my emotions, become
full, and bright and I feel at peace in my mind for those few
hours. That's it.
I'm convinced that what happened to me in the desert was not a
product of the drugs, but merely happened to me while I was
tripping. It would have been the same had
I not been on psychedelics but that's just my opinion.
I definitely do invite skepticism otherwise.
So yeah, I'm coming up and ready to stargaze.
I have to pee though and all these people hanging out around
the bathroom or making me nervous.
No one else is awake that I can see.
Now no lights are on or tense. Open anywhere around me.
The only people still awake are all over by the bathroom.
I eventually cave and just head over there and do my thing.
No one bothers me or says anything?
Luckily. I start walking back to my
chair. My spot is pretty close to the
bathroom. If I walk from the front of it,
in a straight line in the dark, I will without fail, hit my tent
after about 25 seconds of walking because it's that easy.
I don't bother using my flash light, plus saving my phone
battery for the drive out, is still my priority.
I'm walking through the dark. When I see the outline of my
hammock chair, and a person standing right next to it
staring at it. I freeze and stare at them, I'm
super confused as to why this person is, in my campsite
Standing alone in the dark. Just staring at my chair.
Maybe they're curious about it. I don't know.
It's weird as hell. I wave at them, but they don't
notice. So I move a little closer and I
guess the sound of my footsteps, alerted them to my presence,
because they shot their head up toward me, took around three
steps in my direction, backed up about six steps, flashed a
bluish flashlight in my eyes and fast walked away from me toward
another person. I hadn't noticed. someone else
standing in the dark about 15 feet away, The two of them stood
next to each other shining, their blue flash lights at their
feet. Then they both moved around me
toward the bathroom and disappeared into the women's
restroom. We are weird, right.
I thought so standing there all terrified, like a dummy idiot.
I rationalized that. Maybe the first person was
waiting for their friend to catch up or something I sat down
and finally put on some good music in my headphones and just
melted into the beautiful show playing in the sky above.
It's now around 11:30 p.m. to midnight.
And there are still people messing around near the women's
restroom. It's really distracting at this
point and bugging me a lot because it's right in my line of
sight. They just keep waving their
flashlights around and coming in and out, but they never seem to
go anywhere. They'll walk out of the
restroom, turn their lights off and just walk into the dark
without their lights to guide them.
Usually they either walk behind the bathroom where I can't see
them, or off to the left side into the dark, where there are
no campsites? I noticed someone is standing
next to me. I tear my headphones out and
jerk my head to the right. There is a silhouette of a
person standing about seven feet from my chair.
I am Frozen and spooked pretty bad.
They take around two or three steps toward me, then back up
again. Around 6:00 and walk around me
in a way into the dark with no flash light away from me in the
bathroom. Now, I'm freaking spooked.
I don't think it's anything Supernatural right now, but I
definitely think it's some people up to, no good.
The nearest city is hundreds of miles away and we are far from
any civilization out here. If these were people trying to
hurt me, they could do it rather easily.
I stay in the chair for now, but I keep my headphones off so I
can hear the environment around me.
My head is now on a swivel but I'm still trying my best to
enjoy the night around midnight. No one else is awake.
No flash lights anywhere, no voices.
Nothing. All the bathroom people, finally
vanished and it seemed like I was the only one awake.
With my headphones off. I started to notice sounds.
Now, the sound of a jet somewhere nearby would come and
go flying around somewhere in the desert.
I kept looking for its aircraft lights but could never find
them. This deep almost physics.
Defying boom. Would occasionally shake the
desert but in a weird way. When I heard and felt it, I
would feel my body tense and shake with it and the are too,
but never the ground. It's weird because it sounded as
if it was coming from the ground itself, not the air.
I would also hear what sounded like laughter coming from the
desert to my left. The part with no campsites are
people? I was still at this point, just
chilling. I was obviously starting to
suspect some weird crap, but for the most part, I was just
chilling and enjoying the night. Then orbs in the sky.
I practically crapped myself, when I saw this above one of the
cliffs far out on the horizon, a little swarm of glowing orbs
appeared and they were almost dancing around one another I
remember this moment. Very clearly.
I remember seeing them and thinking, I can't explain that.
What the hell is that? There is nothing.
I could imagine that could move like that.
Not even drones. I won't record this.
I promise. It would ruin it and I want to
see it through. I remember thinking that last
part very clearly out of nowhere, and it was weird how
specific it was in my mind. I hadn't even thought to record
it in the first place. But here, I was making a promise
to myself that. I wouldn't even try no matter
what happened, another cluster of orbs appears in the sky to my
right? And almost simultaneously the
orbs to my left, instantly shoot across the sky to join the other
orbs. I start smiling like a damn
idiot. This is it?
The thing I have been staring at the sky looking for my whole
damn life. The thing I stopped believing in
for decades because I never saw it.
I had let the world convinced me that it was just as boring as it
appeared and never once allowed myself to think, it could
actually be more than that. And the proof was finally
staring me in the face. I had to keep checking in with
myself being like this isn't the shrooms right?
No it's definitely not. I see that and I know I'm not
hallucinating it. I probably went through that
little personal questioning close to a dozen times over the
course of the next few minutes. The jet sound comes back and
it's much louder now. I can actually see the aircraft
lights now, too, flying directly overhead but they aren't
blinking like usual. They fly into this dark cloud in
the sky. I hadn't noticed before and
vanished along with the Jets sound.
The orbs continue playing around each other until they vanished
too. All in all I would say this
lasted for about an hour. It's now around 1 a.m. and I
really have to pee. I obviously hold it as long as I
can because I'm witnessing the single most special thing I'll
ever get to see right in front of my eyes but eventually I
break and just want to get it over with So I'm a trans woman,
I wouldn't even bring that up. If it didn't have some sort of
relevance to the story to be honest.
I look and sound exactly like a girl.
It's pretty much impossible for people to tell and I haven't
been clocked in a long time. I'm out here in the desert on
shrooms witnessing some high strangeness but I still got to
be careful about which bathroom I use.
Normally, I would just use the women's but those people I
encountered early were still making me paranoid.
So I figured if worse comes to worst, I'd rather be caught in
the men's. In case there are some weirdos
out here. I head in there and I'm doing my
thing at the urinal as fast as possible.
The moment I start the door to the restroom shoots open.
And this guy with short brown hair around 5 foot 6 and a half,
sunken droopy face runs in eyes glued to the ground and barges
into the stall. Next to me, shutting the door
and doing his business. The only word I could use to
describe him was that he looked sick.
This obviously scares the crap out of me.
It's 1 a.m. and I haven't seen another human being in a few
hours. Plus I just saw the light show
in the sky and I'm a sis looking girl, peeing standing up at a
urinal. And I'm alone with this, dude.
He pees for no joke three seconds.
That's it all that Rush, all that urgency.
For three seconds of tinkle time, who does that?
He spent the rest of his time in there, slowly, pulling out
toilet paper from the roller. For some reason, I'm a dumb
idiot and just held my bladder for way too long, so I'm trying
my best to get it all out so I can leave, but it's taking
forever. I finally finish and for some
reason I go to wash my hands. I don't know why it just felt
like the right thing to do in the moment.
The guy shoots out of the stall. Again, way too hard and fast.
Comes right next to me at the sink washes.
His hands for a total of two seconds and leaves the bathroom
as fast as he entered. I'm just kind of shook.
But again, I'm trying to rationalize this I just think
he's probably tripping too and the sight of some girl peeing at
the urinal at 1 a.m. probably made him think.
I was an alien as well. So I head out and back to my
chair. The moment I sit down the lights
in the bathroom. I was just in, shut off all at
once. The lights in the women's
bathroom in the men's no one enters or leaves either.
And now, just a single tiny yellow bulb can be seen glowing
above a park rangers bulletin board on the side of the
building. I sit down and almost kind of
invite more weird stuff to happen around me.
The Jets are back now and louder than before.
There are orbs forming a huge ring around the campground
pulsating growing, and then dimming slowly drifting around
I'm terrified but also I can't move.
It's too cool to be honest. That's really the whole reason I
didn't hide in my tent. Who the hell in their right
mind? Would listen to their instinct
to run when you could see how far it could go?
I hear strangers. Sounds coming from the desert.
What sounds like shouting in a baby crying, far, far away.
The orbs reappear in the sky and behind the trees next to my
tent, it looks like the Moon is shining through but it's a new
moon. It's now 2 a.m. the bathroom
lights, come back on but only in the men's restroom the women's
remains off and I see no one come or go at this point.
The only thing I've been muttering to myself for a while.
Is I'm a dumb idiot? Why am I doing this?
This is terrifying and I'm dumb for just letting it happen.
I'm very aware of my desire to run and give in to the fear.
But that is highly outweighed by my curiosity.
At least it was a person comes from seemingly, nowhere with no
flash light on and no clear Direction and walks in front of
the bathroom and it's terrifying.
Normally, that wouldn't be scary.
It's just some person but this person was easily 1013 ft tall.
The bathroom itself was around 13 feet tall and this person's
head was at mid-level with the top ventilation window.
The crown of their head was taller than the building itself.
They walked in front of the restroom and into the dark and I
shot out of my chair. The only thing I said was nope.
Nope, nope, nope. Nope, freaking, nope, that's
terrifying or something like that as fast as I could.
I ran into my tent and quickly zipped it up.
There was no not running. At this point, my sympathetic
nervous system just took over and was very adamant that I
needed to hide. It's hard to describe what I
felt but it was the most Primal Fear I've ever felt.
I have BPD and cptsd. So I'm used to feeling a
staggering amount of Terror in my mind on a daily basis.
When my symptoms show up. But this was on a whole other
level. It was like some deep animal
part of me understood the moment.
I saw them that I was no longer at the top of the food chain.
Another Ultra Predator much smarter than me had just made
itself known. And my body was tensing up, like
a wild animal at the sight of it.
I felt truly humbled in small in that moment and knew I was
outmatched. They were now outside of my tent
scurrying in circles around it, the sound of their footsteps
gave way to the feeling of their voice.
Playing alongside, my own inner voice.
This is where it gets hard to explain.
We talked, but talking is not the right word for it.
They communicating pure concept and feeling and it's so subtle
and instantaneous, it's hard to describe how obvious it is,
while at the same time, being so subtle as to almost be
indistinguishable from your own thoughts, or feelings, The
things we talked about were rather personal, so I won't go
into too much detail. I asked them about the Jets.
Whether that was us. And if we're trying to find
them, They said, yes. I thought we aren't smart enough
to find you guys. They said no, you are smart.
You just aren't creative. They said they are scared of us
too, but are much more aware of us than we are of them.
They want to know us more, but it's hard too much.
Complication, they cited me running as proof.
I said that's natural, I'm still an animal with a nervous system
hardwired for survival, something new, and unknown is
going to do that to people, no matter how rational they try to
stay. They said they liked me because
I was honest about the fear. They were scared too.
They want freedom and they want that for us as well, but they
aren't quite sure what to do or at least they wouldn't tell me.
Whenever I asked their name or why they were here, they
deliberately ignored me. They also seem to get a kick out
of messing with me citing that as a reason for this encounter.
They did one thing that I really liked, they showed me that they
have always cared and always will.
It's hard to describe the feeling they gave me, but it
really was unconditional. Love They called me family and
kept expressing their love for me, telling me that I chose
this. I didn't fully get that part
when they said it a bunch of memories from my childhood
flooded in, but I'm still struggling to draw any
connections. After a while, of course I had
to pee. Again, I did and nothing
happened. I went back into my tent, to eat
some trail, mix and record an audio note of what we just
talked about. So I could remember as much as
possible. I noticed the time on my phone
said something like 11 a.m. My phone has never messed up
like that before or change the time on me.
It was a little validating to see to be honest.
It was very clearly, the middle of the night not 11 a.m.
I left the tent and they messed with me, some more more orbs in
the trees lights going off in the bathroom.
Eventually, five a.m. came and they were gone.
The sun came up and I headed home.
There are a lot of details, I skipped over as this post is
already way too long, but there you have it.
Like I said, I don't expect anyone to believe me.
I invite the skepticism, honestly, because I was under
the influence of a psychedelic substance.
I do have to say out of the hundreds of trips I've had I've
never experienced something like this before or since I truly
believe that these events happened and that the drugs were
not responsible for their Inception whatsoever.
What? To take away from it.
I'm not sure it was amazing. And I want to meet them again.
I am extremely humbled now, I believe in other beings again
and I have this sense of family and Home in my life.
I've never quite had before. Has anyone out there met them,
too? I'd love to hear your story if
so and to let you know you aren't alone in your experience.
They are out there and they do exist.
It didn't feel right from the moment, we stepped off the
trailhead and into the forest. Don't get me wrong.
I've hiked before. Nothing crazy.
Just a few weekend trips. But something about Blackwood
Reserve didn't feel right? The air was dense, heavy in a
way that made it hard to breathe.
Even before we'd started the climb, The trees were
unnaturally tall. Their bare branches Tangled,
like veins against the overcast sky and the wind carried a faint
metallic Tang that clung to the back of my throat.
I told myself it was nothing just nerves but that gnawing
unease, wouldn't go away. The others didn't seem to
notice. Mike, my roommate was up ahead.
Joking with Rachel and Zoe about how much he'd overpacked.
Tom and Clara the guides led, the group their calm practice
demeanor a stark contrast to the rest of us fumbling with our
gear. I hung back my pack heavier than
it should have been my eyes darting to the Shadows between
the trees. We'd been hiking for hours when
the path opened into a clearing. Here we are Tom and announced
dropping his pack and gesturing around.
The campsite wasn't much a patch of uneven ground surrounded by
trees with just enough space for us to pitch our tents.
The forest, pressing close, a solid wall of black Trunks and
Tangled undergrowth, making the clearing feel smaller than it
was. We spread out to set up camp,
each claiming a spot. I picked a patch of ground at
the edge of the clearing close to the tree line.
Big mistake. The forest was quieter here.
The usual Buzz of insects and birds replaced by an oppressive
silence. Even the wind barely stirred,
the trees. I focused on pitching.
My tent trying to ignore the prickling sensation crawling up
my neck. Hey, Jonah, you good mic called
his voice, cutting through the Stillness.
Yeah. I lied not looking up just
tired. The truth was.
I knew we were being watched every time I glanced at the tree
line. I swore I saw something.
Move a flicker of Shadow, the quick Dart of something too fast
to track. I kept telling myself.
It was my imagination that my eyes were playing tricks in the
fading light. By the time, the sun dipped
below the Horizon, the temperature had plummeted.
We huddled around the fire. Eating dehydrated meals and
swapping stories. But even the flickering Flames,
couldnt chase away the cold. The fog rolled in thick and
fast, curling around the trees, like skeletal fingers.
It muffled, everything, the crackle of the fire, our voices,
even the distant rustle of the forest Ever hear the stories
about this place. Clara asked breaking the uneasy
silence. Tom shot her a look but she
Shrugged what they're just stories?
What stories, Rachel asked leaning, closer, people say, the
forest is strange. Claris said her voice low
things? Go missing out here.
People animals, they say the forest takes them.
Okay, creepy. Zoe muttered.
Laughing nervously. Relax Clara said, waving It Off.
It's just local folklore. Every place like this has its
ghost stories. but the words, lingard planting a seed of fear
that grew as the night wore on I retreated to my tent early
unable to get rid of the unease. The Fire cast, Long Shadows
across the clearing. And as I zipped myself inside, I
tried to convince myself that everything was fine.
It was just another hike. The stories were just stories.
I fell asleep to the sound of the wind Whispering through the
trees. When I woke up, the whispering
was gone, it took me a moment to realize what had startled me.
The forest was silent. Not the peaceful kind of quiet.
You get in the wilderness but the kind of Silence that makes
your skin crawl. No, wind no crickets, nothing,
just an oppressive suffocating Stillness.
I heard something leaves crunching.
Slow footsteps, circling the edge of the clearing.
I froze every muscle in my body, tensing.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
As I strain to listen, the steps were heavy and wrong.
Not an animal too slow to calculated.
They stopped just outside my tent.
I held my breath, every nerve screaming at me to stay still.
Something was out there. I couldn't see it but I could
feel it. Something large just beyond the
thin layer of fabric. Separating me from the forest.
The steps started again, moving around the perimeter of the tent
on hurried. Then the sound shifted, it
wasn't just footsteps anymore. It was dragging something.
Sharp like claws, scraping against the ground.
My breath hitched. As a shadow passed across my
tent but unmistakable it lingered motionless.
Before moving on The air was so cold.
Now I could see my breath misting in the dim light of the
Moon. Filtering through the fog.
I wanted to unzip the tent to look but my body refused to
move. Then came the breathing.
It was shallow labored Almost Human.
But with a wet gurgling Edge, that made my stomach churn, the
sound came from just behind me close enough that I could feel
the vibrations in the air. I don't know how long it lasted
minutes hours time stretched and warped.
And the only thing I could focus on was the sound of that thing
outside my tent. And then it was gone.
I didn't sleep, I lay there. Staring at the fabric of my
tent, waiting for the sound to return, but the forest stayed
silent and eventually exhaustion.
Pulled me under morning came too quickly.
Sunlight filtered through the fog.
Casting long pale Shadows across the campsite The others were
already up packing their gear laughing and joking.
Like nothing had happened but I wasn't the only one who'd heard
it. Clara caught my eye, as I
stepped out of my tent. She didn't say anything, but her
Expressions said enough. She'd heard it, too.
I didn't say anything at first, honestly.
I thought maybe I dreamed it. Chalked it up to exhaustion and
my brain playing tricks on me. But when I stepped out of my
10th that morning, the look on Clara's face said, otherwise.
Her smile was forced. Her usual confident, demeanor
cracked at the edges. I wanted to ask her if she'd
heard it, the breathing the footsteps, the dragon claws, but
part of me was terrified of her answer.
What if she had worse? What if she hadn't?
And I was just losing my mind. Rough night, she asked casually,
her voice low enough that the others couldn't hear.
I nodded swallowing hard. Did you hear anything?
Her eyes, flicked toward the forest.
And for a moment, I thought she was going to brush it off, but
then she nodded almost imperceptibly.
Footsteps. She whispered it's probably just
Wildlife. Let's pack up and keep moving
Wildlife. Sure.
That didn't explain the breathing or the shadow circling
my tent. The others didn't seem to notice
anything off as we broke camp, but I couldn't stop scanning the
tree line. The fog still clung to the
forest, like a veil and every shifting Shadow felt like a pair
of eyes watching me. I kept my head down and focused
on putting one foot in front of the other as we hiked deeper
into the woods. It wasn't until we stopped for
lunch at a small Creek that the tension in my chest loosened,
just a bit. The sound of running water felt
like a bomb after the suffocating Silence of the
campsite. But even then, I knew that we
were not alone. As I filled my water bottle,
Rachel crouched next to me her voice low.
Hey, did you see anything weird last night?
My stomach dropped. What do you mean she glanced
over her shoulder? Making sure the others were not
listening. There was this light outside my
tent, like like someone was walking around with a lantern.
But when I looked out, there was no one there I froze.
You're sure it wasn't someone in the group.
Rachel shook her head? No one else was moving.
I checked. I didn't know what to say.
So I didn't say anything. The rest of the group was
laughing and talking like this was just another hike, but
Rachel's words hung heavy between us?
We packed up and started hiking again, and that's when things
got worse. The forest felt alive in the
worst way. The fog seemed thicker now
clinging to our clothes and muffling, our voices.
The trees loomed closer. Their narrowed branches twisting
together overhead, blocking out the sky and the silence that
awful. Oppressive silence was back
about an hour into the hike. I saw it at first, I thought it
was just a trick of the light, a shadow moving between the trees
too quick to track, but then it happened again a lot closer.
A figure tall thin and hunched darted from One Tree to the
next, its movements. Jerky and unnatural I stopped
dead in my tracks. Jonah.
You okay Mike asked his voice breaking through the haze.
I I thought I saw something. I said my throat dry probably
just a deer. He said, clapping me on the
shoulder. It wasn't a deer.
By the time we reached the next campsite, the sun was already
dipping below the horizon. The guides tried to keep
everyone calm cracking jokes and telling stories as we set up our
tents. But the tension was palpable
even Mike was quieter than usual, his usual bravado
replaced with a nervous energy that made him fidget constantly.
I pitched my tent as close to the fire as I could, but it
didn't help. The second night was worse.
It started the same way footsteps crunching in the
leaves, slowly, circling the camp.
But this time they didn't stop at the edge of the clearing.
They came closer, the sound growing, louder heavier until it
felt like whatever was out, there was standing right next to
my tent. The breathing came next wet
gurgling and so close. I could feel the vibrations in
the air. My skin prickled and my heart
hammered against my ribs, as the shadow passed across the fabric
of my tent and then it scratched.
The sound was unbearable. Sharp claws, dragging across the
nylon slow and methodical like it was testing the strength of
the material. I bit down on my lip to keep
from screaming every muscle in my body locked in place.
The light returned brighter this time casting a cold blue glow
through the tent. I could see the silhouette of
something just outside twisted and hunched its limbs too long.
Its movements erratic. It lingered the claws raking
across the tenth one last time. Before the light suddenly
disappeared. Plunging me back into darkness.
I couldn't take it anymore, I unzipped the tent.
Just enough to appear outside my breath caught in my throat.
The fire had burned low, casting faint Shadows across the
clearing. But, just beyond the edge of the
light. I saw it.
A figure tall impossibly thin with elongated limbs that
twitched and jerked as it moved. Its head was cocked at an
unnatural angle and though its face was obscured.
I could feel its Gaze on me, cold and piercing.
I didn't scream, I couldn't the thing turned its head further as
if studying me before disappearing into the Shadows
with a sudden unnatural speed. I zip the tent shut and sat
there shaking until dawn. When morning came, I found
Rachael standing at the edge of the clearing staring into the
forest. She turned to me her face pale.
Did you see it? She whispered.
I nodded we didn't speak again after that there was nothing
left to say. I don't remember much about how
it started that morning, just the raw gnawing fear that had
eaten at me through the night. None of us said, much, as we
packed up Rachel and I exchanged a glance, but it wasn't the kind
of look that needed words. She'd seen it too.
Whatever it was even Mike, who always had something sarcastic
to say stayed quiet. His usual cocky.
Grin was gone replaced by a pale tight-lipped expression.
Tom and Clara tried to keep things light, but their voices,
sounded forced brittle. The unspoken agreement was
clear. We needed to get out of
Blackwood Reserve, fast the trail back to the cars.
Felt different, like the forest itself was shifting around us.
The fog had lifted slightly but the Shadows were longer darker
and they seem to move when you were not looking the trees tall
and skeletal bent inward. Their branches clawing at the
sky. Every crunch of our boots on the
dirt Trail felt deafening in the silence.
Then about halfway back, the footsteps returned.
At first, they were distant. Just the faintest crunch of
leaves far behind us. I tried to tell myself, it was
nothing. Maybe a deer or a stray.
Hiker taking the same Trail, but the sound didn't fade it.
Followed us slow and deliberate matching our Pace but never
getting closer. Tom stopped, abruptly and turned
scanning, the path behind us. Anyone see anything?
He asked trying to sound calm. No one answered.
We all just stood there, Frozen listening.
The footsteps stopped too. And that's when I realized
something worse. The forest was dead, silent, not
just quiet, but wrong, no birds, no wind, no rustling leaves,
just that awful suffocating Stillness.
Let's keep moving clear said, quickly, her voice tight.
We picked up the pace, our boots crunching faster, against the
dirt. The footsteps started again,
louder this time and closer. my heart pounded, as I glanced over
my shoulder, half expecting to see that Twisted figure from the
night before, but there was nothing, just the trees and the
endless shifting Shadows, then it started running the sound of
heavy uneven footfalls thundered through the forest crashing,
through the underbrush like something enormous and unhinged,
It was coming straight for us. Go.
Tom shouted. His voice breaking as he took
off down the trail We ran branches whipped at my face
Roots snagged, my boots but I didn't dare stop.
The sound of it was everywhere. Like, the forest itself was
alive and chasing us. I didn't look back.
I couldn't Rachel screamed behind me and I skidded to a
stop turning just in time to see her fall.
Her ankle had caught on a root and she was struggling to get up
tears streaming down her face. Helper Mike shouted but his
voice was drowned out by the deafening Roar.
Yes. Roar of what ever was behind us.
I didn't think I just grabbed Rachel under the arm and hauled
her to her feet dragging her forward as fast as I could.
The thing was close. Now close enough that I could
feel its breath hot and rancid on the back of my neck.
We broke into a clearing the trees finally giving way to a
patch of Rocky Terrain. In the distance, I could see the
trailhead our cars parked like lifeboats waiting to save us.
Almost there. A shouted.
Her voice hoarse. I didn't believe we'd make it
the thing was too fast, too relentless. but then, for the
first time I dared to look back, I wish I hadn't.
It was massive taller than any man, its limbs too long and thin
its body Twisted in ways that didn't make sense its face or
what passed for a face was a mess of Shadows and glowing
faintly blue eyes that seared into me and its hands.
Tipped with claws reached for us with an unnatural hunger.
Run, I screamed pushing, Rachel ahead of me as the thing lunge.
I don't know how we made it but we did.
The trailhead appeared, like a mirage and we stumbled out of
the forest, collapsing onto the gravel parking lot.
The things stopped just at the edge of the tree's it's glowing.
Eyes, burning into me as it. Let out a low guttural sound
that vibrated through my chest then it disappeared melting back
into the Shadows. Like it had never been there.
For a long time, none of us spoke.
We just sat there, gasping for air staring at the tree line.
I have expected it to come back to drag us screaming into the
forest, but the woods States still.
Eventually. Tom broke the silence.
Everyone. Okay.
His voice was shaky and his hands were trembling as he tried
to light a cigarette. No one answered.
What could we say we piled into the cars and drove in Silence.
The weight of what had happened? Pressing down on all of us.
I stared out the window watching the trees blur passed, my heart
still hammering in my chest. As we pulled into the nearest
town. I finally spoke.
I'm never going back there. I said my voice barely above a
whisper never. Again, no one argued.
No one even looked at me, but I meant it.
Whatever was out there in Blackwood, Reserve wasn't just
dangerous. It was wrong and I wasn't going
to stick around to see what it wanted.
I'd always thought I was tough enough for any Wilderness
challenge. That's what brought me to
Blackwater Hollow in the dead of winter.
I craved the kind of isolation that could strip you down to
your bones and remind you what it meant to be alive.
But as I stood at the trailhead staring into the dense, forest
draped in snow, I felt the first prickle of unease.
The road to get. Here had been brutal, two hours
of skidding on icy. Narrow logging roads where one
wrong move would have sent me into a ravine.
My truck was now, parked crookedly half Frozen to the
ground its tires clinging to the last patch of solid earth before
the Wilderness, swallowed me whole The silence was the first
thing that hit me, not the peaceful kind.
That makes you breathe a little easier.
This was heavy like the woods themselves were holding their
breath. No wind, no rustling, branches
no distant, animal calls. Just me the crunch of snow under
my boots and the faint hum of my own breath freezing in the air.
I adjusted my pack, double checked my Hatchet and started
walking. The trail was barely a
suggestion of a path overgrown and obscured by a thick layer of
snow. My boots, sank, deep with each
step and I had to push through dense Frozen under brush.
There were no tracks, no signs of anyone having passed this
way. In weeks, maybe months.
Just endless trees standing, like silent Sentinels on either
side. About an hour in.
I started noticing things. The claw marks on the trees,
were the first long parallel. Grooves!
Dug deep into the bark, too high.
For any animal. I could think of A bear may be
but they should have been hibernating.
I stopped to study one of the marks running my gloved, fingers
over the rough edges. And they look deliberate Almost
like someone had dragged something sharp down the trunk
on purpose. Then there was the trend.
It wasn't part of the trail. It ran perpendicular to it,
cutting through the snow in a shallow Groove.
My first thought was that someone had dragged a sled, but
there were no Footprints alongside it.
Just the trench like something. Heavy had been pulled Along by
something or someone that left no trace of themselves.
I stood there for a moment, staring down the faint line, as
it disappeared into the trees and told myself, I didn't have
time to investigate. Not with the sun already dipping
lower in the sky. the deeper, I went The Stranger at got Every
so often I'd come across trees with the bark, stripped
completely clean the pale wood beneath standing out starkly
against the dark trunks around it.
It wasn't weather or wrote it was as if something had peeled
it away. Leaving Jagged edges, that
seemed too violent to be natural, I kept moving telling
myself. It was just my imagination but
the silence around me felt heavier with every step.
By the time I reached the clearing near the frozen pond I
was exhausted. The spot seemed perfect flat
ground a good view of the area and close enough to the pond
that I could collect water. Once I broke through the ice,
But as I sat down my pack and started clearing a space for my
tent, I had the Sensation that I was being watched, I turned
scanning the tree line but there was nothing there.
Just Shadows stretching long in the fading light.
I Shrugged it off and started Gathering wood for a fire.
That's when I saw the strange marks again, this time on the
ground, a loose circle of broken branches, scattered hap Hazard
but two concentrated to be random.
It wasn't like a fallen tree or the remnants of a storm.
It was deliberate and at the center of the circle.
The snow was packed down as if something heavy had been sitting
there for a long time before being dragged away.
My mind raced through possibilities.
None of them comforting, I forced myself to keep moving to
finish, setting up camp. The fire helped a little, its
flickering light, chasing back, the worst of the Shadows.
I made dinner Sat by the flames and tried to convince myself.
I was just being paranoid. But the woods around me stayed
silent. Too silent.
Even the crackle of the fire felt intrusive, like it didn't
belong here. As the night deepened, I
retreated to my tent zipping, myself inside and keeping my
Hatchet within Arm's Reach. I tried to sleep, but every time
I closed my eyes, I heard it, the faintest sound of snow
crunching outside, not constant, not even regular, just an
occasional deliberate step. I held my breath.
Heart pounding straining to listen, maybe it was an animal,
maybe it was nothing, but then it circled whatever it was.
It moved slowly around my Camp pausing every so often, before
taking another step, my throat tightened, as I gripped, the
hatchet praying, it would go away.
Eventually, the sound faded and I told myself, I'd imagine it,
but I didn't sleep. When the first light of dawn
crept through the fabric of my tent.
I packed up as quickly as I could.
The clearing that had seemed so perfect the evening before.
Now felt suffocating the trees around it pressing into close.
As I hoisted my pack and glanced back at the circle of broken
branches. I felt that I had made a mistake
coming here. A big one.
The Morning, Light didn't bring the relief.
I'd hoped for If anything, it only made the clearing feel,
stranger more sinister. The pale sunlight filtered
through the trees in. Weak beams, casting long sharp
Shadows that stretched across the snow.
I couldn't stop my eyes from darting to the edge of the
clearing scanning the tree line for movements.
There was nothing but that didn't ease the knowing unease
in my gut. I was ready to leave every
Instinct screaming at me to put as much distance as I could
between myself and what ever had circled my tent during the
night. But then I remembered the trench
that shallow Groove in the snow, the one that had veered off the
trail and disappeared into the trees.
I should have ignored, it should have just turned around and gone
home. But curiosity got the better of
me. That and the nagging feeling
that if I didn't see where it lead, it would follow me.
I followed the trench, each steps slow and deliberate my
boots crunching in the snow. The forest fell different.
Now, closer darker, the trees pressing in like silent
onlookers The trench twisted and curved leading me deeper into
the woods where the snow was undisturbed, except for the
strange deliberate path carved into it.
I tried not to think about what could have made it or why it
didn't leave any other tracks, the clearing was small, almost
hidden. And the first thing that caught
my eye was the framework, it stood in the center like a
Macabre centerpiece Rough. Wooden beams lashed together
with strips of cloth and rope forming a crude angular
structure. It reminded me of a hunting
blind but there was no purpose to it.
No logic. The angles were all wrong as if
whoever built, it didn't know or didn't care what they were
making. Around the framework.
The ground was littered with debris.
Broken shards of glass glittered in the snow, reflecting the
week, sunlight like Jagged teeth.
There were bones, too, small ones, likely animal, but not
clean in a way that made my stomach churn.
And then there was the boot just one lying on its side half
buried in the snow. It was old the leather cracked
and stiff, but it didn't look like it.
Had been there long, enough to freeze solid I moved closer, my
breath clouding. The air in short, shallow
bursts. The snow beneath the framework
was packed down as if something had been dragged or stomped
their repeatedly. I felt that it wasn't just the
framework itself that was wrong. This whole clearing felt off.
Like I was standing in a place that didn't belong to me or
anyone The trees around the clearing weren't any better.
Their bark was scarred with strange carvings spirals jagged
lines crude stick figures Some were small and faint others.
Deep and violent gouged into the wood as if in a frenzy.
I snapped a few pictures with my phone.
My hands trembling as, I tried to focus.
My pulse was hammering in my ears drowning out, the Eerie
silence. I didn't stay long, the air in
the clearing felt heavy. Like it was pressing against me
urging me to leave. I turned and followed the trench
back to my Camp, my legs moving faster with each step.
By the time I saw my tent again, I was practically jogging, but
what greeted me stopped me cold. My Camp was destroyed my tent
lay on its side, the fabric, slashed open, in half buried in
the snow. My Food Bag had been torn apart,
its contents scattered and mangled my water bottles were
punctured. Their icy remains pulled in the
snow like small frozen lakes. Tracks surrounded.
The site big ones larger than any humans.
But strangely uneven, as if whatever had made them
alternated between walking upright and crawling on all
fours. The final blow was the tree.
The one-eyed, camped closest to now.
Bore a fresh carving, larger and more detailed than the ones.
I'd seen in the clearing. It was a spiral Jagged and deep.
The lines overlapping and Crossing in a way that made my
headache, just to look at it. It hadn't been there the night
before. My throat went dry as I realized
what that meant whoever or whatever had been circling, my
tent wasn't just passing by it had been here watching, I didn't
even bother packing properly. I grabbed what I could shoving
it into my pack with shaking hands, my knife in my other hand
clenched, so tightly, that my fingers started to cramp every
snap of a brand, every gust of wind sent my heart racing.
As I started the Trek back to my truck, the trail longer this
time, the forest darker, the air colder, the silence was no
longer just heavy, it was suffocating pressing in on all
sides, like a living thing. And then the noises started
faint at first, like the crunch of snow far behind me but they
grew louder closer and less like footsteps.
It wasn't steady. It was erratic uneven,
punctuated by low guttural, sounds that sent Terror through
me. I kept walking refusing to look
back but the noises didn't stop a cold.
Sweat soaked through my layers as I pushed myself faster.
Each step feeling heavier than the last At one point I caught
movement out of the corner of my eye, a tall hunched shape
weaving between the trees. When I turned my head, it was
gone. By the time I reached my truck,
I was running my breath came in ragged gasps.
As I fumbled with the keys, my numb, fingers struggling to
unlock the door. As I threw myself into the
driver's seat and started the engine.
I heard it allowed crashing sound like something big
barreling through the trees behind me.
I didn't wait to see what it was.
I tore down the icy Road, the tires skidding in my headlights
barely cutting through the Gloom in the rearview mirror.
Just for a second. I saw it.
A figure standing at the edge of the forest Too Tall, too.
Thin with glowing eyes that burned like Embers.
I didn't stop driving until I was Miles Away the trees
thinning and the sky brightening be careful out there.
There's a Stillness to the Idaho Wilderness that feels like
stepping into another world. No cars, no, chatter no
deadlines. Just trees stretching endlessly
in every direction their towering forms.
Bending slightly under the breeze.
This is what I needed and escape a reset.
I parked my car at the trailhead through on my pack and tightened
my boots, the air was Chris biting at my cheeks in a way
that made me feel alive. I checked my map folded, it back
into my pocket and started down the trail.
The crunch of my boots against the dirt echoed faintly through
the trees, a comforting sound, against the overwhelming quiet.
The forest was different out here.
No sounds of distant, hikers or dogs barking.
No signs marking every fork in the trail.
Just raw untouched wilderness. I reveled in the isolation
feeling that rare Freedom City, Life can never provide the first
couple of Miles were uneventful a squirrel darted across the
trail, a hawk circled lazily above.
I stopped once to adjust my pack and sip some water.
Letting the sheer quiet of the forest seep into my bones.
That's when I noticed something off to my right, just beyond the
tree line. At first, I thought it was a
trick of the light. The way the sun, filtered
through the branches, can create strange Illusions turning
Shadows into shapes that aren't really there, but as I squinted,
I realized this wasn't a shadow, it was a person.
A man standing perfectly still between the trees.
Something about him was wrong. His proportions seemed
stretched, his arms hanging. A little too long at his side's.
He was facing me, or at least, I thought he was the details, were
hard to make out in the dappled light, but it looked like his
face was blank. just smooth skin, where eyes a nose and a
mouth should have been I froze. My mind scrambled for an
explanation. Maybe he was wearing some kind
of mask a hunter, maybe, but who hunts?
Without moving without blinking. Hey, I called out my voice.
Sounding too loud in the silence, no response, no
movement, just that blank. Faceless stare, my heart,
hammered, as I took a step back my fingers, tightening around
the straps of my pack. I blinked and he was gone.
Not walked away gone, just gone. Like he'd never been there at
all. I stood there staring at the
empty space between the trees where he'd been my rational,
brain kicked in, offering up excuses, you're tired, your eyes
are playing tricks on you. This is what happens when you
spend too much time, staring at Shadows, shaking it off.
I kept moving. My steps felt heavy or now the
forest around me a little darker, a little quieter.
I told myself it was fine, just a weird moment.
Nothing more. Still, when it came time to set
up camp, I made sure to go a little off Trail far, from where
I had seen him just in case. By the time, I pitched my tent,
the sun was sinking low painting, the sky and Hues of
orange and purple. I ate a quick dinner, a
freeze-dried something or other the tasted like cardboard but
filled the void in my stomach. Exhaustion crept in as the first
Stars appeared overhead and I crawled into my tent.
Zipping it up tight. The forest at night is a
different Beast. The silence is so complete, it's
almost loud. Every rustle of leaves every
distant crack of a branch feels Amplified, I lay there listening
to the rhythm of my own breathing, trying to convince
myself that I was safe. That I was alone.
At some point, I drifted off. I don't know how long I slept
but when I woke up the first thing I noticed was the cold The
air inside, the tent was icy brushing against my face like a
breath from the outside. That's when I realized the door
was open, not just unzipped a little completely, open the
flap, hung Loosely swaying slightly in the breeze.
I shot up my heart pounding so hard at felt like it might burst
through my chest. My mind raced did I forget to
close it? Did I hear something early and
ignore it? I fumbled from my flash light
and showing it out side. The beam of light, cut through
the dark, Illuminating only the thick trees surrounding my camp.
Nothing moved no sign of anyone or anything.
I sat there for what felt like hours.
Flashlight. Clutched in one hand knife in
the other. Eventually I convinced myself it
was a mistake maybe I'd been so tired.
I hadn't zipped it all the way it had to be that right?
I zipped the tent back up this time, triple checking it and
laid down again though. Sleep didn't come easily.
Outside the forest, creaked and groaned and every sound felt
like a footstep. I didn't know it then, but the
worst was still ahead much much worse.
I couldn't shake the feeling from the night before that
opened tent door. Haunted me.
I'd spent the morning convincing myself.
It was nothing a slip of my tired mind, but deep down the
unease, lingard. As I packed up camp, the forest
seemed heavy or somehow like the trees themselves were leaning in
listening. I forced myself back onto the
trail, trying to focus on the rhythmic crunch of my boots
against the dirt. The sky was overcast.
Now, the sun will only peaking through in small bursts.
Casting fleeting Shadows that danced on nerving across the
path. Every so often I catch myself
glancing back over my shoulder expecting.
I don't know what, but the trail behind me was always empty.
That's when I noticed it, a bundle of sticks bound tightly
with rope lying dead center on the trail.
It wasn't large, maybe the size of my forearm, but it was
intricately tied with the sticks twisted and bent into a shape
that vaguely. Resembled a human figure.
I stared at it, heart thudding in my chest.
Someone had to have made this and recently, too, it hadn't
been there the day before. I nudged it with my boot, half
expecting it to crumble, but it held firm the bindings taught.
Some kind of prank. I muttered my voice sounding
Hollow in the Stillness. But who would be out here in the
middle of nowhere, pulling stunts like this and why?
I kicked the bundle into the underbrush and kept moving the
air felt colder now and the once soothing Silence of the forest
was starting to feel oppressive. Every snap of a twig made me
Flinch. Every rustle of leaves had me
scanning, the trees searching for movement.
I couldn't shake the feeling. I was being watched.
By late after noon, the unease had grown on bearable.
I decided to camp in an even more secluded spot that night
far from the trail. I found a small clearing
surrounded by thick trees and set up my tent quickly.
My hands trembling slightly as I drove the stakes into the
ground. The sun was sinking fast and I
didn't want to be caught fumbling in the dark.
As night fell, I lit a small fire hoping its warmth would
settle my nerves. It didn't every crackle of the
flame seemed to Echo too loudly and the Shadows, they cast
seemed to shift in ways that didn't make sense.
I tried to focus on my meal, but my appetite had vanished.
Movement, just at the edge of the firelight a shadow slipping
between the trees. My breath caught and I froze my
eyes locked on the spot where I had seen it.
Hello. I called out my voice shaking.
Nothing. No response.
Just the faint Whisper Of The Wind Through the branches.
I grabbed my flashlight and swept it across the trees.
The beam slicing through the darkness, it caught nothing but
bark and leaves Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that
something someone was out there watching.
I doused the fire and retreated into my tent, zipping it up
tightly and double-checking every seam.
The knife. I'd packed for emergencies felt
inadequate as I clutched it in my hand, but it was better than
nothing hours passed. My heart refused to slow every
noise outside Amplified by the thin walls of the tent.
Then I saw them, two faint glowing Points of Light high in
the branches of a tree directly ahead of me.
Eyes. They didn't blink.
Didn't move. They just stared down at me.
Unflinching. I wanted to tell myself.
It was a reflection, a trick of the light, but there was no,
mistaking it, those were eyes. I gripped, the knife, tighter my
Palms, slick with sweat and stayed perfectly.
Still barely breathing minutes stretched into hours.
And the eyes, never wavered. I felt trapped like an animal
caught in a snare unable to run unable to fight.
When the first faint light of dawn began to creep into the
ten, the eyes vanished to silently as they'd appeared I
didn't move until the sun was fully up the Golden Light.
Spilling, over the clearing. When I finally unzip the tent
and stepped outside, I stopped cold.
An ex made of sticks and rope was lying, just in front of the
tent flap. It wasn't like the figure I'd
seen before. This was deliberate precise,
like a warning. I stared at it.
My mind racing someone or something had been here while I
was inside, too paralyzed with fear to notice.
This wasn't a prank, this wasn't my imagination.
I didn't bother eating breakfast.
I packed up my gear as fast as I could.
My hands trembling and hit the trail again, my eyes darting to
every shadow, every tree. I decided this trip was over,
whatever I had come here to escape was nothing compared to
what? I might be running toward.
The forest was suffocating me every step I took felt heavier
like the ground itself was trying to pull me down.
Keep me here, my pack bounced against my back, as I trudged
toward the trailhead every muscle in my body aching from
the tension, I'd carry it all night.
I couldn't stop thinking about the X outside my tent.
Someone had been there close enough to touch the fabric.
Close enough to take me if they wanted, I kept my knife in my
hand. As I walked my Knuckles white
around the handle. The trail was empty as it had
been since I started this trip. No hike, hers.
No animals, just me and the endless Forest.
But I knew I wasn't alone. I could feel it like an itch.
Just beneath the skin an hour past maybe two, I wasn't sure
anymore. Time felt warped out here every
shadow stretching longer than it should every sound echoing too
long. Then I heard it the faint crunch
of leaves behind me. I stopped dead in my tracks.
The sound of my heartbeat loud in my ears.
Slowly. I turned scanning the trail.
There was nothing there. Just trees and underbrush.
The path winding back into the distance.
I waited straining to hear to catch a glimpse of movement.
Silence. I shook my head and started
walking again forcing myself to focus on the dirt path ahead.
My car wasn't far. I could make it.
I just had to keep moving. Then came the Rocks.
The first one was small barely larger than a pebble and it
landed on the path of few feet behind me with a soft thunk.
I spun around my breath catching and my throat again nothing!
I stared into the woods, the trees twisting together like
dark veins. Who's there?
I called out my voice cracking. No response.
I backed away. Slowly my knife held out in
front of me, like it could actually protect me from
whatever was out there. Another rock, landed closer this
time, then another It wasn't random.
It was deliberate. Like something was hurting me.
Forcing me to keep moving. The path opened up slightly,
giving me a sliver of Hope, as I caught sight of the parking lot
in the distance. My car was there a beacon of
safety in the oppressive wilderness?
relief surged through me and I broke into a run, my boots
pounding against the dirt I didn't care about the weight of
my pack, or the pain in my legs. I just had to get out as I
reached the edge of the parking lot.
I stumbled to a stop, the site of my car, my safe haven, nearly
made me collapse and relief. But then I saw it through the
driver's window. Something was lying on the seat.
I hesitated every Instinct screaming at me, to turn around
to run back into the woods, even if that meant certain death, but
I couldn't leave. I had to see.
Slowly, I approached the car, my hands shaking so badly.
I nearly dropped my knife. Pressed against the window.
Was one of my shirts riped and shredded with dark stains along
the fabric. And next to it, perfectly
centered on the seat was another ex made of sticks and rope.
I reached for the door handle praying.
It was still locked. It was my knees.
Almost buckled. Whatever had left that thing in
my car, had the keys at some point.
They'd been close enough to take them close enough to lock the
door again. Close enough to have been inside
my tent too. My fingers fumbled for the key
in my pocket, I unlocked the door through my pack, into the
back seat and climbed in slamming, the door shut behind
me. My chest was heaving.
My breath coming in short ragged gasps.
I started the car and threw it into reverse.
My eyes darting to the rear view mirror, as I backed out of the
lot. I was so focused on getting out
of there that I almost didn't see him standing at the edge of
the lot, just where the trees began was the faceless man.
He didn't move, didn't step forward or Retreat.
He just stood there. His long arms, hanging at his
side, his featureless face, tilted, ever.
So slightly as if he were watching me, I couldn't look
away even as the car lurched backward onto the road.
My hands gripped. The steering wheel.
So tightly, they hurt. The man didn't chase me.
He didn't make a sound. He just stood there, unmoving as
I sped away down the winding road, my heart didn't slow,
until I reached the outskirts of the nearest town, even then I
kept glancing in the rearview mirror.
Half expecting to see him standing in the middle of the
road waiting for me. I don't know what he was what he
wanted or why he let me go. All I know is that I'll never go
back to those woods. I don't think I could survive
another encounter. And the worst part as I sit
here, now, writing this, I can't get rid of the feeling that I'm
still not alone. it was Eric's idea, of course it always was
One Last Adventure before school starts.
He'd said, grinning like the woods were calling him
personally. I didn't have the heart or the
guts to say, no. That's how we ended up on dagger
Ridge Trail, two backpacks, full of gear and me dragging my feet
behind him. Like, I knew something he didn't
The day was perfect. Cloudless skies, warm sun, the
kind of summer day. That makes you think nothing bad
could ever happen. but the closer we got to the trailhead,
the quieter, everything became even the cicadas, which had been
screaming early or faded into silence as we stepped under the
cover of trees. Come on, Ryan, keep up Eric
called already a few Paces ahead.
His backpack swung with every step his excitement, almost
tangible. I adjusted the straps on mine.
Wishing I hadn't packed so much and followed.
The trail started wide, and easy climb over loose gravel and
Roots, but it quickly narrowed hemmed in by trees, so thick
their branches Tangled overhead. The sunlight filtered through
and broken patches casting long fractured Shadows on the ground.
I kept my eyes on Eric's back, trying to ignore how the air had
cooled. How the faint Breeze smelled
faintly. Sour like rotting leaves.
Why does it smell like that? I asked my voice too loud in the
silence. Eric Shrugged Wildlife, maybe.
Relax, man. It's just a trail.
But it wasn't not really. Dagger Ridge, wasn't on any map.
I'd ever seen. The story is about it.
Were vague have remembered Tales From older kids, who swore
they'd seen Shadows, move or heard voices calling their
names? I hadn't believed them at least
not. Until now, as we climbed higher,
I noticed strange marks on the trees.
At first, I thought they were scratches maybe from a bear, but
the closer I looked the less they made sense. long, jagged
lines that crossed and spiraled as if someone had carved them
deliberately You see these, I asked stopping to trace one with
my fingers. Eric didn't even glance back.
Probably some hiker messing around.
Let's keep moving. We'll lose the light.
If we don't, hurry I wanted to turn around.
Right then every Instinct I had screamed to go back but Eric's
confidence was infectious always had been He charged ahead
laughing at the danger and I'd follow two stubborn to be the
one who chickened out. By the time we reached silver
Basin, the sun was low, the sky streaked with Bruce, purple's
and fiery Reds. The base in was a wide clearing
surrounded by Jagged Cliffs, that seemed to lean in as if
they were listening. Eric dumped his pack and
stretched grinning. This is perfect.
He said look at that view. I drop my pack sitting heavily
on a Flat Rock, the air was still unnaturally.
So I tried to focus on the beauty of the cliffs the way the
last rays of sunlight painted them gold but I couldn't drop
the Sensation that we weren't alone.
Eric, as usual was oblivious. He grabbed his flashlight and
slung his backpack over one shoulder.
I'm gonna check out the ridge he said, be back in 10.
Wait, what? I stood up already reaching for
my own flashlight. You're just going to wander off.
It's getting dark. He laughed that cocky Carefree
laugh that always made me feel like a little kid.
Relax, Ryan, I'll be fine. Just stay here and get the fire
going. I'll be back before you know it.
I watched him disappear into the trees.
His Flash Light Beam, bouncing ahead of him.
For a moment. I considered following.
But the thought of being alone in the dark woods was worse than
staying put The fire took longer to start than I had expected.
My hands would stop shaking and the dry kindling.
Eric had packed wasn't cooperating By the time, I had a
small flame going, the sun was gone leaving.
Only the flickering light of the fire and the encroaching
Darkness Beyond it. 10 minutes passed, then 20 the fire
crackled and the Shadows at cast dance on the trees making them
look alive. I glanced at my watch, the knot
in my stomach tightening. Eric, I called my voice too
small swallowed by the vast silence nothing.
The Shadows seemed to stretch longer deeper their edges, sharp
and wrong. I stood gripping my flashlight
and turned toward the path. Erik had taken the darkness
beyond the firelight felt alive pulsing with a weight.
I couldn't explain Eric, I shouted again, louder.
This time, a faint, sound like a branch.
Snapping came from the woods. Relief, surged through me.
About time I muttered stepping toward the noise, but no one
answered. The firelight behind me felt
impossibly far away as I stared Into the Woods.
My flash light flickered, its beam weak against the thick
Shadows. For a second.
I thought I saw movement a figure darting between the trees
but when I focused it was gone. Something wasn't right.
I could feel it in my chest in the way the hair on my arms,
stood on end. The Shadows weren't just moving.
They were watching. I took a shaky step back toward
the fire. My flash light, trembling in my
grip. A whisper faint.
Just barely Audible. Ryan.
It came from the woods soft and drawn out, like a breath, my
heart slammed in my chest. Eric, I whispered my voice
trembling but deep down, I already knew it wasn't him.
I don't know how long I stood there, staring into the trees.
The fire crackled behind me but it felt miles away.
My grip on the flashlight was so tight.
My fingers ached, but I didn't dare let go.
The Whisper, my name, soft and stretched like it didn't belong
in this world still hung in the air.
Eric. I called again, though my voice
was barely a croque. The silence that followed felt
heavier than before like the forest was tense.
I stepped forward flash light shaking in my hands.
The weak beam, cutting through the Shadows, the tree's Loom
taller. Now their branches Twisted into
shapes, that didn't look natural.
My foot crunched on something and I froze.
Heart pounding slowly, I looked down, it was Eric's backpack, it
sat upright, in the middle of the trail.
Like someone had placed it there on purpose.
The straps were Torn One hanging by a thread and dirt.
Streaked the fabric, I crouched down my hand, trembling as I
reached for it. Eric, I whispered, as if he
might jump out from behind a tree laughing at the scare but
there was no sound no movement. I unzipped the pack slowly each
rasp of the zipper too loud in the suffocating silence.
Inside. Everything was untouched a
flashlight, an unopened, water bottle, Eric sold compass, and a
crumpled map. My stomach turned as I realized
he wouldn't have left this behind unless he had no choice.
Where are you? I muttered my voice cracking
then I heard it again. The whisper Ryan.
It was closer this time deeper as if, the forest itself was
saying, my name, my head snapped up and my flash light caught
something a flicker of movement just beyond the beam a shadow,
too large to be Eric slipping between the trees whose there.
I shouted my voice breaking, the forest didn't answer, but I
swore, I heard a faint chuckle dry and rasping like leaves
crumbling Under Foot. Panic bubbled, in my chest.
And I stumbled back the flash light darting wildly across the
woods. The Shadows seemed Alive Now
stretching and shifting moving when they shouldn't, that's when
I noticed the footprints. They let away from the backpack
deeper into the forest. At first, I thought they were
Eric's deep impressions in the soft dirt, but as I followed
them with the beam, my stomach dropped.
They were wrong too long, too wide and spaced too far.
Apart, like, whatever made them wasn't human.
Eric, I whispered, my throat dry, I didn't want to follow the
trail. Every Instinct screamed at me to
turn around to run, back to the camp and wait for daylight, but
if Eric was out there if he needed help I swallowed hard and
took a step forward, then another The forest seemed darker
now. The trees closer together.
The air was thick heavy. Like I was breathing through a
wet cloth. My flash light flickered.
Again the beam weakening is if the forest was sucking the life
out of it ahead. The footprints ended abruptly in
a small clearing dominated by a massive tree Its trunk was
narrowed and twisted its bark covered in deep spiraling
grooves. That glowed faintly in the dark,
The symbols made my skin crawl their patterns Too.
Perfect Two. Deliberate as if they were
alive. The Earth around the base of the
tree was Disturbed, turned up like something had been buried
or dug out. My stomach.
Churned. The sour smell stronger.
Now stinging, the back of my throat.
Eric, I called my voice barely above a whisper.
The tree didn't answer, but the Shadows around.
It seemed to shift, converging toward the base.
I stepped closer, my feet feeling like they weighed a ton,
my flashlight. Caught something near the roots,
a piece of fabric, torn and dirty.
Eric's shirt. My breath hitched, The Whisper
came again loud. And clear, wrapping around me,
like, cold hands. Ryan.
I spun around the flashlight's beam, slicing through the
darkness. There was nothing, no one.
But the whisper didn't stop it. Grew louder, joined by others,
overlapping voices, that came from everywhere, and nowhere.
Ryan. Ryan.
They weren't just calling my name.
They were laughing. I backed away my heart hammering
in my chest and tripped over a root.
The flashlight. Flew out of my hand, clattering
to the ground. Its beam flickering wildly I
scrambled for it. My fingers, brushing cold earth.
When I saw it a figure tall and impossibly thin stepped out from
behind the tree its face or what should have been.
Its face was nothing but avoid a black emptiness.
That seemed to swallow the light.
Its limbs were too long. Its movements Jerky.
Like a marionette control by invisible strings, I froze.
Unable to breathe unable to move.
The thing tilted its head as if studying me before taking a
slow, deliberate step forward, My body finally obeyed.
I grabbed the flash light and bolted tearing through the
forest, as The Whispers turned into a deafening Roar.
The trees seemed to close in their branches clawing at me,
their Roots, grabbing at my feet.
When I finally stumbled into the clearing where our camp had been
the fire was out. The tent was gone and scratched
into the dirt glowing faintly in the Moonlight where the same
spiraling symbols. I'd seen on the tree.
I fell to my knees gasping for breath.
The Whispers Fading Into silence, but the feeling of
being watched didn't leave, it would never leave.
I don't remember much about how I got back to town.
The trees seemed to stretch on forever.
Their Shadows, clinging to me like they didn't want to let go.
By the time I stumbled Out of the Woods, my legs were shaking
so badly I could barely stay upright.
I collapsed onto the dirt road. Clutching Eric's shredded
backpack, the strap still frayed and damp with Something I didn't
want to think about. When I reached Town it was
already mourning. The sunlight didn't feel warm
though. It felt harsh too bright.
Like, it was trying to erase the nightmare of the night before.
But it couldn that cold heavy feeling followed me clinging to
my skin, like the forest itself had seeped into my veins. the
words tumbled out of me when I saw Eric's parents, He's gone.
I croaked barely able to meet their eyes.
Something. Something took him.
The search party was organized faster than I expected.
Maybe it was the look on my face.
Maybe it was the way I couldn't stop shaking or how I gripped.
Eric's backpack like a lifeline I told them about dagger Ridge
about the symbols, about The Whispers, but no one believed
me. Not really.
It's just the woods. Sheriff, Greer said, adjusting
his hat. Like this was any other missing
person case kids, get lost all the time.
We'll find him. But as the search teams
disappeared into the forest, I saw the doubt in their eyes.
They'd heard the stories too. Everyone had.
I stayed at the edge of the woods pacing by biting my nails,
waiting for someone to come back with, good news hours passed,
then days, they found nothing. Not Eric, not even Footprints,
just his backpack abandoned in the middle of the trail.
And near Silver Basin the massive tree with its spiraling
carving. The search dogs refused to go
near it. One of them, a big German
Shepherd, yelped and bolted. When its Handler tugged, too,
close the Handler turned back. Pale muttering.
Something about the are feeling wrong.
Eventually, the search was called off.
Will keep looking the sheriff told Eric's parents but the look
in his eyes said otherwise. They all thought he was gone for
good dead, probably. But I knew better the nightmares
started a week later. At first, they were just
flashes, Eric's pale face, his lips moving, like he was trying
to tell me something, but no sound came out.
Then the dreams grew worse. I was back in the forest,
running through the trees. The Whispers all around me, The
Shadows were alive reaching for me with long spindly fingers.
Eric was always ahead of me just Out Of Reach.
His figure flickering like an old TV about to lose its signal.
Wait, I screamed. But he never did.
When I woke up, my body felt heavy.
My chest tight. Like the forest was still there
pressing down on me. The Whispers followed me into my
Waking Life. Fainted at first, just on the
edge of hearing, but over time, they grew louder.
Ryan. Always my name.
Always the same tone mocking laughing.
Like the forest itself was calling me back.
I tried to ignore it. I buried myself in school in
chores in anything that kept me out of my own head.
But no matter where I went the forest was there lurking at the
edge of my mind. Years passed.
I never went back to dagger Ridge.
I didn't need to the forest had. Come with me.
Following me like a shadow. I couldn't drop.
The Whispers were worse at night.
I'd wake up drenched and sweat my heart racing.
Convinced I wasn't alone in my room.
Once I swear, I saw a figure standing in the corner tall thin
its limbs too long. It's face nothing but darkness
when I turned on the light it was gone.
By the time I was 25. I had stopped sleeping entirely.
The nightmare is blurred into reality and I couldn't tell
where one ended and the other began.
That's when I knew, I had to go back.
I returned to the Rockies in the dead of winter.
The forest was different. Now, quieter colder, more
menacing The trailhead to dagger Ridge was overgrown.
Nearly hidden beneath snow and underbrush, but I found it.
Of course, I did the symbols were still there carved into the
bark of the trees, their jagged lines, glowing faintly even in
daylight the air felt thicker with every step.
The Whispers louder. They were not fainted anymore.
They were a chorus, overlapping voices, calling my name,
laughing taunting. Ryan.
At Silver Basin.
I saw it again the tree its bark Twisted, with the same spiraling
patterns, its roots clawing into the Earth like they were alive.
and at the base, a patch of disturbed ground The snow didn't
stick there. Like the Earth itself was
rejecting it. My flashlight flickered as I
stepped closer, Eric. I whispered my voice breaking,
The Whispers stopped for a moment.
The silence was deafening then, from behind the tree, a figure
stepped out, it was him Eric or at least it looked like him.
His face was pale, his eyes wide and empty his mouth moving
silently. He raised one hand pointing
toward me his movements, slow and Jerky, like a puppet on
strings. Eric, I croaked taking a step
back. He stopped tilting his head, his
mouth twisting into something that wasn't a smile.
And then all at once, The Whispers came back.
They were not voices anymore, they were screams.
The Shadows around the tree erupted long and clawed reaching
for me. I turned and ran the ground
shifting, beneath my feet, the trees closing in.
The last thing I heard before I broke free of the forest was
Eric's voice faint and broken. Don't come back.
To this day. I don't know what happened to
him. I don't know if that thing was
really Eric or if it was something else wearing his face,
but I do know this. I'm never going into the woods
again. The Pacific Northwest had always
called to me, it's dense, forests and Misty.
Mountains feeling more like home than my cramped apartment back
east. This trip was supposed to be my
escape, a reset. After years of grinding, through
work and life. It started perfectly the crisp
Mountain Air winding roads that felt endless.
And the kind of solitude that lets you think, clearly, for the
first time in months, when Rick joined me in Bend though, things
shifted, he shifted off the bus looking pale, like he hadn't
slept in weeks, I chalked it up to the long journey or his usual
complaints about too much nature, but there was something
else a jitteriness I couldn't quite place.
This place is. Weird.
He muttered as we loaded his bag into the car.
He glanced around like, someone might be watching us though.
The parking lot was empty except for a rusted pickup.
Yeah, weirdly beautiful. I teased hoping to lighten his
mood You'll love it. Once we get out there.
He didn't. The whole drive to the cabin,
Rick. Barely spoke staring out the
window, like, the trees were pressing in on us.
And honestly the woods did feel thicker than usual almost alive.
I told myself it was just the overcast sky or the early dust
but by the time we arrived even I was feeling unsettled the
cabin wasn't much an old structure that smelled faintly
of mildew with creaky floorboards and a sagging roof
that looked like it had survived one too many storms.
Quaint. I said trying to sound cheerful
as I unlock the door. Quaint as code for haunted, Rick
muttered tossing his bag on the couch.
He didn't mean it as a joke though and the lucky gave me
made my stomach twists. Inside the cabin was even
smaller than the pictures made. It seem a single light bulb
buzzed faintly in the living room, and the kitchen was barely
more than a counter with a sink and ancient stovetop.
The windows were small and when I peeked out all I could see was
Forrest a wall of dark green stretching endlessly in every
direction. We unpacked in silence Rick.
Kept checking his phone, even though we both knew there
wouldn't be service out here. He had this habit of pacing when
he was anxious and by the time I set my bag down, he was already
wearing a path into the cabins thin carpet.
What's wrong? I finally asked trying to sound
casual. Nothing.
He said too quickly. It's just this place feels off,
you know? Off how I pressed he Shrugged.
I don't know. It's like, like we're being
watched or something. I rolled my eyes, but his words,
hit a nerve. I had an admitted it to myself
yet, but the cabin did feel strange.
The air inside was Heavy almost stifling and the silence wasn't
peaceful. It was an odd energy, like the
woods were tense. That night, we sat by the
fireplace eating can sue. I'd plan to hold, itinerary of
hikes and Scenic Drive for the next day, but Rick barely
acknowledged me when I laid it out.
He just stared at the Flames his jaw tight, maybe we should head
back tomorrow. He said suddenly What?
No, we just got here. I tried to laugh but it came out
forced Come on, it's not that bad.
You'll feel better after a good night's sleep, he didn't argue,
which wasn't like him. Usually Rick was the type to dig
his heels in even over little things.
But tonight he just nodded staring into the fire.
Like he was afraid to look away. As we were getting ready for
bed, he broke the silence again. Hey what's that thing you
mentioned earlier? The legend or whatever?
I froze. You mean the forest Watchers?
Yeah that what's the deal with that?
It's just a local story. I said quickly people say the
woods are protected, I guess. You're not supposed to
disrespect the land or, you know, call attention to
yourself. He raised an eyebrow call
attention. How There's a name, you're not
supposed to say. They say, if you do, they'll
notice you Rick smirked. And I knew immediately, what he
was about to do. Don't I started, but it was too
late. He said the name loud and clear
his voice. Almost taunting.
The room felt colder immediately like a drafted swept through,
but the windows were shut tight. Rick.
I snapped my voice sharper than I intended.
That's not funny. Oh, come on.
It's just a story. He said, but his smirk was gone.
He glanced at the window, his shoulders stiff.
The rest of the night passed intense silence.
I fell asleep, easily enough, exhausted from the long day but
Rick stayed up. I woke once around midnight to
the sound of him pacing again but when I asked if he was okay
he just muttered go back to sleep.
I did but not before noticing how he kept glancing at the
windows, his face pale in the dim light.
When Rick shook me away, I thought it was time to leave for
our hike. My brain was groggy still
Tethered to what ever half-formed dream I had been in
but his voice cut through the fog like a blade.
Get up, he hissed his words, trembling we have to go.
What time is it? I mumbled reaching for my phone
but his hand grabbed mine stopping me know now.
Clear get up. He said his voice, sharp and
urgent. It took me a moment to register
his face. In the dim glow from the bedside
lamp. I could see his wide eyes the
way. His jaw was clenched.
So tight at looked painful. Rick was tough sarcastic.
Sometimes. Annoyingly, skeptical.
But never scared yet. Here he was pale and shaking.
Like, he'd seen something, no one should ever see Rick.
I whispered my throat dry what's going on.
I can't explain it. Not here, just pack your stuff.
We're leaving, I started to argue but something in his
expression. Shut me up.
My pulse quickened, and a cold knot formed in my stomach.
He grabbed his bag from the corner tossing clothes into it
haphazardly while glancing over his shoulder like he expected
someone or something to burst through the door at any second.
I threw on a hoodie and started stuffing my things into my
backpack. Is it an animal?
Did you hear something outside? Rick froze.
Mid-step his back to me. Yes, he whispered almost too
softly to hear but it wasn't normal.
My heart skipped. What do you mean?
Not. Now he snapped his voice
cracking just move faster, we hurriedly packed, and I followed
him outside to the car. The cold, hit me, first, sharp.
And biting though, it wasn't that cold early or My breath
clouded the air as I stuffed my bag into the trunk.
Rick was already in the driver's seat.
Fidgeting with the keys, his hands shaking so badly.
It took him three tries to get them into the ignition.
When the engine roared to life, I felt a brief surge of relief.
The headlights cast of pale, yellow glow, over the dirt road
ahead. But beyond that was only
blackness The kind of Darkness, you don't realize exists until
you're in the middle of nowhere. What happened back there.
I asked as we pulled onto the road, my voice sounded thin
brittle. Rick didn't answer right away.
He kept his eyes locked on the road.
His knuckles White against the steering wheel.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity.
He exhaled shakily. I was trying to fall asleep.
He began his voice, low and uneven.
But I kept hearing this. Sound like tapping at first.
I thought it was just the wind or something, but it kept moving
from the window to the wall to the door.
I shivered and pulled my hoodie tighter around me.
Could it have been an animal? He shook his head, his gaze
darting to the rear view mirror know, it was too deliberate and
then I heard Whispers. I froze Whisperers.
Yeah, he said his voice, barely above a whisper.
Now at first they were faint like Like, Wind Through the
Trees, but they got louder like like they were circling.
The cabin, then came the footsteps, my chest tightened
footsteps, Rick's jaw clenched, and he nodded heavy ones.
They were outside at first moving around the porch.
Then they started climbing, I heard them on the roof, Claire,
the car swerve slightly as his grip on the wheel tightened.
I gripped the door handle my pulse pounding in my ears.
You didn't see anything. No, he admitted, but I felt it
like they were right there. Watching waiting a chill,
crawled up my back, but I forced myself to stay calm.
It was probably just animals. I said, though, the words felt
Hollow even as I said them raccoons or something.
Rick laughed, bitterly shaking, his head.
Raccoons don't whisper Claire. The road stretched ahead of us,
winding through the endless Forest the further, we drove the
darker. It seemed to get as though, the
trees were swallowing the light, The hum of the engine was the
only sound, but it didn't feel peaceful.
It felt like we were being hunted.
After about 30 minutes Rick 10st.
Do you see that? He asked his voice Sharp.
I squinted into the darkness at first, I thought it was nothing,
but then I saw them. Two headlights in the rearview
mirror, growing brighter and closer.
Someone's behind us, I said more to myself than to him.
They were not there a second ago, Rick muttered, his voice
tight. I've been watching.
The car behind us gained speed closing the Gap unnerving fast.
I braced myself as Rick sped up the tires skidding slightly on
the loose, gravel, the headlights loomed closer.
And for a moment, I thought they were going to Rama us But just
as suddenly as they'd appeared, they vanished.
What the hell? I whispered twisting around to
look behind us. The road was empty.
Rick didn't answer. His grip on the wheel was
Ironclad. His knuckles pale in the dim,
glow of the dashboard. It's not over.
He muttered under his breath. The road curved sharply ahead
and as we rounded the bend, the cars headlights, illuminated
something that made my blood run cold.
A massive stag stood in the middle of the road.
Its antlers stretching impossibly High, its eyes,
reflecting the light in an unnatural way.
Rick stop. I screamed, he slammed the
brakes and the car skidded to a halt just feet from the animal.
The Stag didn't Flinch. It just stood there.
It's dark eyes. Fixed on us.
Its sheer size was other worldly.
Like it didn't belong here or anywhere.
Rick and I sat Frozen too afraid to move.
And then I Heard It Again, The Whispers soft feint, but
unmistakable carried on the cold night air.
They were back. And they were closer.
Now the Stag didn't move, it just stood there a dark
silhouette against the faint beam, of our headlights, its
massive. Antlers like Twisted branches,
reaching into the sky. My breath caught in my throat.
The Whisperers were back low faint.
Murmurs that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
I gripped, Rick's arm my nails, digging into his skin.
Drive. I whispered barely able to form
the word. Rick didn't respond.
His hands were glued to the steering wheel.
His knuckles white, his whole body.
Ridgid. He was staring at the Stag, his
chest rising and falling in short shallow breaths.
I shook him. Rick we have to go.
The Stag turned its head slightly, its eyes glinting like
black mirrors and then it stepped aside.
Not hurriedly, not startled, but deliberately like it was
allowing us to pass. Rick slammed on the gas, the car
lurching forward as we sped past the animal.
I couldn't help but glance back. And for one horrifying moment, I
thought I saw it watching us its head turned unnaturally far to
follow our Escape. We didn't speak for a long time
after that. The road ahead was shrouded in
darkness, the trees crowding. Closer with every mile The
Whispers ebbed And flowed sometimes so faint.
I thought I imagined them. Other times, growing louder.
Almost insistent. I kept checking the rearview
mirror half expecting those headlights to reappear or Worse,
something else. The gas gauge dipped closer to
empty. I swore under my breath my voice
breaking the fragile silence. We're not going to make it to
the airport if we don't find a station soon.
Rick didn't respond, just pressed his foot harder on the
accelerator. His eyes stayed fixed on the
road, but I could see the tension in his jaw the way his
fingers twitched against the steering wheel.
The Whispers were louder now, and I realized they weren't just
murmurs, they were words, I couldn't understand them, but
they were there layered and overlapping coming from the
trees, the road, the air itself. Finally a faint glow appeared
ahead a gas station. Its flickering neon sign like a
beacon in the oppressive night relief.
Washed over me, but it was short-lived.
As we pulled into the lot. I noticed how deserted it was.
No cars, no noise. Just the hum of the old lights
and the wind rustling, the trees.
Rick jumped out to pump the gas. While I headed inside to grab
coffee. The moment I stepped through the
door, the atmosphere hit me like a wall.
It was warm and still, but not in a comforting way.
The air felt too heavy too quiet.
Like, the whole place was holding its breath, the woman
behind the counter, didn't greet me.
She didn't even look up her hands shook slightly as she
rearranged to display of gum her eyes darting to the windows.
Every few seconds, I moved to the coffee station, fumbling
with the lid, as I tried to shake the unease that had
settled over me. That's when I noticed her
watching me, not openly, but from the corner of her eye,
every time I moved her gaze, shifted her body.
Tensing is though I might do something unpredictable.
I tried to ignore it but her discomfort was contagious and I
couldn't help but glanced out the window behind me.
The trees seemed closer than before their dark Silhouettes
pressing against the glass. When I turned back, she was
gone. I blinked scanning the store but
she had disappeared into the back my pulse quickened and I
grabbed my coffee, moving to the counter.
Rick entered just as I reached it his face pale and drawn.
Pay and lets go, he muttered his voice low, he placed a pack of
gum on the counter, not meeting my eyes.
The woman reappeared her movements, jerky, and nervous.
She rang us up quickly, her hands trembling so badly.
She dropped the change. As I went to pick it up, I saw
him. A man, stood near the back of
the store leaning casually against a shelf. his face was
mostly hidden under the brim of a white hat, but his eyes His
eyes were fixed on Rick. I froze.
Something about him was wrong. He wasn't threatening exactly,
but his presence felt heavy. Oppressive, like he belonged to
a different time or maybe a different world.
His gays didn't waive. Her didn't blink just stayed
locked on Rick. Like he was studying him
measuring him. I stood clutching the change in
my hand. Rick, I whispered, but when I
turned to look at him, his face told me he'd already seen the
man. He grabbed my arm pulling me
toward the door. As we stepped outside The
Whispers surged louder. Now almost deafening the wind
had picked up whipping through the trees, carrying those voices
with it. I felt a prickling at the back
of my neck. Like we were being watched not
just by the man in the store but by something much bigger,
something unseen. Rick shoved, the gas cap back on
and climbed into the driver's seat.
I barely had time to shut my door before he floored it.
The tires screeching, as we sped out of the lot.
I looked back expecting to see the man standing in the doorway,
but there was nothing, just the gas station, shrinking into the
distance. It's neon sign flickering like a
dying Flame. We drove in silence for what
felt like hours. The Whispers faded as the first
light of dawn, crept Over the Horizon turning the sky, a muted
Gray. The oppressive, wait, that had
followed us all night began to lift.
But the fear, lingard, Rick broke the silence first, his
voice, barely audible. Did you see him?
I nodded, who was he Rick shook his head gripping the wheel
tighter, I don't know, but I don't think he was human.
We reached the airport just as the sun rose, its golden light
washing over the landscape, like a blessing. as soon as we
boarded the plane, the tension finally broke leaving us
exhausted and Hollow I leaned my head against the window staring
out at the mountains below, but my thoughts were elsewhere.
I didn't know what had followed us that night whether it was
something ancient something angry or simply the consequences
of Rick's careless words. But I knew one thing.
The forest had been watching us and it had let us leave.
This time. I didn't plan this trip.
Well, I'll admit that right off the bat.
My idea was simple. Escape The Grind, spend a
weekend in nature and clear my head.
For months Backwoods sounded perfect.
I didn't even bother booking a hotel.
Just threw my gear in the trunk and hit the road.
By the time, I reached the trailhead, it was pushing five
PM way later than I'd the place was deserted.
Not a single car in sight. The sign at the trailhead said,
it was a five-hour hike to the nearest shelter five hours.
I figured if I hustled I'd make it by 10 maybe 10:30 I had a
flashlight and plenty of adrenaline so I wasn't too
worried. Still something about the empty
parking lot. Made my skin prickle.
The first stretch of the trail wasn't bad, the air was crisp
and smelled like Deep Woods, the trees loomed overhead, their
branches knitting together and dense canopies.
I kept a good Pace. The crunch of my boots on the
dirt Trail, echoing in the silence.
Two silent. Now that I think about it.
No birds. No rustling leaves.
Just me. Two hours in the sun started to
dip below the trees and everything.
Turned, this muted Gray. I stopped for a quick break
leaning against a Mossy Boulder to catch my breath and sit some
water. I heard something a soft crunch
like a footstep my stomach dropped.
I froze, the water bottle halfway to my lips and strained
to listen. Nothing.
Just the quiet hum of insects and the faint rustle of leaves.
Probably a deer. I told myself maybe a small
animal but when I swung my flashlight around the Bean cut
through the trees, Like a Knife, Illuminating Absolutely nothing.
Get a grip. I muttered under my breath.
Trying to laugh off the tension. It was probably just my
imagination. I pushed off the Boulder and
kept moving quickening. My pace is the trail grew darker
by the third hour. It was Pitch Black My flashlight
was my only Lifeline casting a narrow beam of light.
That felt painfully inadequate. The trees were thicker.
Now, their gnarled trunks twisted and black in the
shadows. Every few minutes, I thought I
heard something a faint rustling behind me.
The crack of a twig, but every time I stopped and swung the
light around, there was nothing. The isolation was suffocating.
I kept telling myself it was just the Woods playing tricks on
me. That my mind was Conjuring
noises out of the silence. But the feeling that I wasn't
alone wouldn't go away. It was this nagging crawling
sensation on the back of my neck, like I was being watched.
Then at the four-hour Mark, I heard it again this time.
It wasn't subtle. A branch snapped loud and
deliberate somewhere to my left. My heart shot into my throat.
As I spun around the flashlight. Trembling in my hand, the beam
landed on a cluster of trees, their Shadows stretching and
twisting like skeletal hands. Hello.
My voice sounded small, ridiculous.
Even the woods didn't answer, but then out of the corner of my
eye. I caught a flicker of movement,
something darting behind a tree. Hey, I shouted more out of
instinct than anything else. my voice cracked and the forest
swallowed it whole My pulse was hammering in my ears, drowning
out, everything else. I held the flash lights steady,
the beam fixed on the tree where I had seen something, but
nothing moved, nothing came out. I backed away slowly my
footsteps crunching against the dirt Trail.
The beam of my flashlight, swung wildly back and forth but the
Shadows were too thick too deep. My breath came in short
panicked. Gasps the kind you try to
control but can't then it happened a scream, high pitched,
distorted and impossibly loud. It tore through the forest, like
a blade echoing in every direction.
I froze. Every muscle in my body locking
up. It didn't sound human.
It didn't sound like any animal. I'd ever heard either it sounded
wrong. I don't remember deciding to run
one second. I was standing there and the
next I was sprinting. My legs burning as I tore down
the trail. The flashlight bounced wildly in
my hand, Illuminating glimpses of roots and rocks that I barely
managed to avoid behind me. I heard, footsteps, heavy,
deliberate, and fast. Something was following me.
I didn't dare look back the trail.
Blurred as I ran my lungs screaming for are my mind, raced
with questions. I didn't want answers to.
What the hell was out there? What did it want?
The footsteps stopped suddenly but I didn't.
I kept running desperate to put as much distance as I could
between me and whatever was in those woods.
When I finally couldn't run anymore, I stumbled off the
trail collapsing behind a massive fallen tree.
My chest heaved my throat raw from sucking in cold air.
I switched off the flash light and crouched.
Low, clutching it like a weapon. The darkness was absolute.
My hands were shaking. My ears.
Straining for any sound. I waited and waited and then I
heard it again. Soft deliberate footsteps.
This time circling the tree I was hiding behind I clenched my
jaw holding my breath. The footsteps stopped just on
the other side of the trunk. Something heavy scraped against
the bark. I closed my eyes praying that,
whatever it was couldn't see me couldn't hear the pounding of my
heart and then silence. Nothing but the faint hum of
insects. I stayed there for what felt
like ours, too terrified to move.
Whatever was out. There was waiting watching, I
knew it wasn't over. Not yet, I don't know how long I
stayed curled beneath that fallen tree, but every second
felt like an eternity. My muscles ached from Crouching,
my breaths, came shallow and uneven and my flash lights, sat
dark and cold in my trembling hands.
I couldn't bring myself to turn it back on, not yet, whatever
was out there with me first. The footsteps had stopped, but
the forest wasn't quiet. Far off the Crickets.
Chirped steadily their drone. Oddly soothing closer though,
the sounds were sharper, small snaps of Twigs.
The rustling of leaves. Sometimes they were near other
times farther off. Whatever it was.
It hadn't left. It was circling me.
I thought about running, but where would I go?
The trail was barely visible even with the flash light and I
had no idea how far I had wandered off it.
And then there was that scream the memory of it froze me in
place, I didn't want to hear it again and I definitely didn't
want to find out what had made it.
Hours passed or maybe minutes it was impossible to tell.
The forest felt like it had swallowed time.
My mind kept jumping to the worst possibilities.
What if this thing was leading me somewhere?
What if there were more of them? What if it didn't need to see me
to know where I was? Then from the silence came, the
first whisper low guttural and just barely Audible.
My heart stopped. I couldn't make out the words if
they were even words at all, but the sound was unmistakably
human. It Rose and fell like someone
muttering to themselves. Each syllable Jagged and harsh
like it hurt to say them. The Whisper came again closer
this time. My breath hitched and I pressed
myself tighter against the tree trunk.
I couldn't see anything in the darkness, but I could feel it.
Something was there just on the other side.
I fumbled for the flash light every Instinct screaming at me,
not to turn it on. But I couldn't just sit there
blind. My fingers found the switch,
slick with sweat. I took a deep breath, counted to
three and inflicted on. The beam cut through the
Blackness and for a split second I wished I hadn't done it.
The light landed on a figure crouched low.
Maybe 10 feet away. Its face was obscured hidden
beneath a hood or hair, I couldn't tell, but it's body was
twisted at an unnatural angle. One arm bracing the ground, the
other stretched toward me. the light hit its face and it
recoiled letting out a low hiss Its movement was Jerky.
Like a puppet pulled by invisible strings.
Before I could process. What I was seeing it scrambled
back into the Shadows, Vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
I couldn't breathe, my chest, felt like it was caving in my
flash, light trembled in my hands, the beam darting back and
forth but there was nothing no sign of it.
Just the endless, oppressive dark.
I had to move staying, there wasn't an option anymore.
Whatever that thing was, it knew where I was.
Slowly. I stood my legs shaking so
badly. I nearly collapsed.
I scanned the area one last time, then started walking
trying to keep my steps as quiet as possible.
The fog had rolled in while I was hiding blanketing, the
forest in a thick suffocating Gray.
My flashlight barely cut through it.
Every tree looked the same. They're Twisted branches,
reaching toward me like skeletal hands.
The trail was gone. I had no idea where I was.
I stumbled through the underbrush, each step crunching
louder than I wanted. The Whispers.
Followed me growing louder than fading like they were weaving in
and out of the Fog. Every so often I would hear a
footstep or the faint scrape of something, dragging along the
ground. I was too scared to look back.
Then I found it a clearing. At first, I thought I had made
it to the shelter but as I got closer, my stomach dropped.
In the center of the clearing was a ring of branches arranged
in a perfect circle. Strange symbols were etched into
each one crude and uneven as though carved by a shaking hand,
in the middle of the circle, was a hole deep fresh and wide
enough to fit a person. I stumbled back my flashlight
catching on something else footprints.
Bear, human Footprints, large and staggered leading from the
hole to the tree line, my throat tightened and I swung the light
around expecting to see those glowing eyes staring back at me.
The forest was empty. For now.
I turned and ran. I didn't care about the noise
anymore. Branches whipped at my face
Roots snagged my boots but I didn't stop.
My only thought was to get back to the car.
I didn't know how far I was, or if I was even heading in the
right direction, but I had to try when I finally broke through
the trees and saw the trailhead relief, hit me like a wave.
My car was there, untouched just as I left it, but as I got
closer, something caught my eye, a handprint smeared across the
driver's side window. It was muddy.
The fingers impossibly long and it was fresh.
I didn't stop to think. I yanked the door open through
my self inside and locked it. My hands shook so badly.
I could barely get the keys into the ignition when the engine
roared to life. I floored it gravel.
Spraying beneath the tires as I sped out of there in my rearview
mirror. I saw it.
A figure standing at the edge of the forest.
Its head tilted. Watching me.
It's glowing eyes were the last thing I saw before the road
curved, taking me away from that place.
I didn't stop driving until I was halfway home.
Even now I don't know what I saw out there.
I just know I'll never go back and sometimes late at night I
still hear those Whispers. Christmas Eve was supposed to be
chill and peaceful. I'd planted it perfectly Lily's
family. Would come over, we'd sit around
the fire pit, drink a few beers and call it a night.
No drama just a quiet evening at my place.
Tucked far enough from town to feel like we were on our own
little island. But now as I sit here writing
this I can't shake the feeling that my life changed forever
that night. It all started normally enough.
Around 7:30 p.m. I was out back.
Clearing out the fire pit, the snow crunched under my boots as
I tossed out last week's ashes and stacked fresh logs. it was
cold, but the kind of cold you get used to when you live in the
midwest sharp but bearable The air felt heavy though, two,
still normally there'd be coyotes.
Yipping in the distance. Maybe some wins during the trees
tonight. Nothing just silence.
Rusty. My German Shepherd.
Trotted along beside me. Sniffing at the air.
Like, he'd caught a strange scent.
I padded his head absent-mindedly.
Relaxed. Boy.
I said, though, I was trying to convince myself more than him.
By the time Lily's parents pulled up in their truck, I'd
managed to push the weird feeling to the back of my mind.
I greeted them handed, Mark a beer and helped her mom carry
some casserole dish into the house.
For the next 20 minutes. I forgot about the Stillness
outside. We laughed talked about
Christmas plans. And for a while, everything felt
normal. At 8:30, I decided to step out
and light the fire. I grabbed the lighter and Rusty,
followed me to the back door, his nails clicking on the floor,
like he was on edge. As soon as I open the door, he
froze, his ears perked up, and his body went rigid.
What's wrong, buddy? I asked peering into the yard.
The fire pit was barely visible in the dark, just a black
silhouette against the snow. Beyond that the tree line loomed
like a wall. My breath fogged in front of me
as I stepped out. Trying to ignore the way my
chest tightened. Rusty stayed behind growling
Softly. He didn't follow me and that
should have been my first sign to go back inside.
I crouched by the pit flicking the lighter and watching the
Flames. Catch The fire hissed and
popped. Casting flickering Shadows that
danced on the snow. That's when I heard it a low
whistle faint, but unmistakable, it wasn't coming from the house
or the wind. It was coming from the woods.
I stood up slowly my eyes fixed on the tree line.
Probably the wind I muttered though.
Even as I said it, I knew that wasn't true.
The whistle came again, longer this time and Rusty barked
sharply from the porch. My gut Twisted.
It wasn't an animal. It sounded off.
Almost Human, but not quite Okay, time to go.
I said walking briskly back toward the house Rusty bolted
inside. As soon as I opened the door,
his tail tucked between his legs.
I barely had time to lock the door before the scream, ripped
through the air. It was like nothing I'd ever
heard half human, half, animal and full of Rage.
My body locked up for a split second.
Every nerve in me screaming to run, Rusty went berserk barking
and growling at the back door, his teeth bared.
I didn't even think I bolted to the window and yanked, the
curtains aside a figure stood at the edge of the firelight tall.
And impossibly thin its limbs were too long.
It's movements Jerky, like, a marionette being controlled by
someone who didn't know what they were doing its face.
God, it's face. It was too pale stretched tight
over its skull with eyes. That glowed faintly yellow.
It twitched then darted toward the house.
I slam the curtains shut and yelled for Lily and Mark lock
the doors now. My voice cracked with panic,
Rusty barked, even louder, throwing himself at the door.
My heart, pounded as I grabbed the rifle from the cabinet and
fumbled to load it Lily, ran into the room, her eyes wide.
What's going on? Something's out there.
I said my voice barely steady. Something's coming. before I
could explain a loud thud shook the back door, Rusty growled
low, his body pressed against my leg, whatever was out there,
wasn't going away, it wanted in I don't know how long I stood
there rifle clutched in my hands staring at the back door, Rusty
was growling so low, it sounded like a vibration more than a
sound. The thud stopped for a moment
and I let myself Hope. Just for a second that may be it
was gone. Then it hit the door again, hard
enough to Rattle the glass. James, what the hell is out
there? Mark asked his voice tight, he
was standing just behind me holding the revolver.
I'd handed him early or I couldn't bring myself to answer.
I didn't know what to say. I don't know.
I finally muttered. But it's not normal.
We stood there every muscle in my body tense, waiting for the
next sound. When nothing came, I slowly
peeled back, the curtain just enough to see outside.
The fire pit was still blazing. Casting long flickering Shadows
against the snow. But the thing, it wasn't there
anymore. It's gone.
I whispered, though, I didn't believe it creatures like that.
Don't just leave Mark motion toward the door.
We can't just stand here. Waiting for it to come back.
Let's check the yard. Make sure it's really gone.
I nodded my stomach churning. Every instinct told me to stay
inside but Mark was right. We needed to know what we were
dealing with. I slung the rifle over my
shoulder and ease the door. Open the cold air hitting me
like a slap in the face. Rusty stayed behind whining
Softly As I stepped outside. The snow crunched under our
boots. As we moved toward the fire pit,
the Flames cast just enough light to see the ground clearly
and that's when I saw the tracks.
They were massive hope like, but too wide in a regular to belong
to any animal. I knew they circled the fire
pit. Then Trail off toward the woods.
Do you see this? I whispered my voice barely
audible, Mark, nodded his grip. Tightening on the revolver, we
were about to head, back to the house.
When I heard it again, that low haunting whistle It was closer.
This time coming from the trees just beyond the firelight.
I raise my rifle, my finger, hovering over the trigger.
Then they appeared two of them moving in from the tree line.
My heart nearly stopped, they were tall and gangly their limbs
too long and their movements wrong, like they didn't
understand how bodies were supposed to work.
Their faces were obscured by the Shadows but I could see enough
to know. They weren't human.
One of them crouched low, its head jerking, a naturally as it,
let out a low growl that made my stomach turn.
Mark, I started my voice. Barely above a whisper, we need
to one of them lunge. I fired instinctively, the crack
of the rifle, shattering, the silence, The Recoil hit my
shoulder hard, but I didn't have time to think about it.
The thing recoiled, but it didn't fall it, stumbled back
then, Twisted its body in a way that made my skin crawl.
Like it was trying to decide whether to attack again.
Mark, fired his revolver. And this time, the creatures
darted back into the woods, their movements fast and Jerky
like spiders, scuttling away Back to the house, I yelled and
we didn't waste a second. We sprinted across the yard, the
firelight fading behind us. My heart pounded in my ears.
As I fumbled with the door slamming it shut as soon as we
were inside, Lily was waiting for us her face pale.
What happened? She demanded.
There's more than one. I said my voice shaking.
They're still out there. We barricaded the doors with
Furniture. Every window locked and covered.
Rusty barked furiously at the back door, pacing back and
forth, like he was ready to tear through it himself.
I was about to suggest calling the sheriff when the sound came
again. Not a whistle this time but a
loud deliberate thud against the side of the house.
They weren't done with us. I checked the rifle.
My hands. Trembling Mark.
Stood Beside Me. His revolver still in hand.
If they won in, they'll have to fight for it, he muttered.
The thuds grew louder coming from all sides of the house.
Now, Windows rattled and a faint.
Scratching sound came from the back door, Rusty growled low.
His body pressed against Lily's leg as if he was trying to
protect her. And then it stopped.
No thuds. No scratches just silence.
Do you think they're gone Lily asked her voice?
Barely a whisper I shook my head, the hair on the back of my
neck standing on end. No, I said they're still out
there waiting. A face pressed against the glass
of the back door. Its eyes glowed faintly yellow
and its mouth stretched into an unnatural grin revealing Jagged
uneven teeth. It's slammed a long spindly hand
against the glass cracking it. Get back.
I yelled. Raising the rifle.
And then the glass shattered the glass shattered before I could
even pull the trigger. Shard sprayed across the floor,
glittering in the dim, light, and Rusty, lunged forward
barking, like he'd lost his mind.
Lily screamed and I shoved her and marked back toward the
living room. My heart hammered so hard.
I could feel it in my throat. Stay behind me.
I shouted raising the rifle. The thing outside, the thing was
halfway through the door. Now its spindly limbs, folding,
awkwardly, as it squeezed through the frame, it skin
looked wet. Almost glossy and its head cock
sharply as it fixed its glowing. Yellow eyes on me.
It's smiled, God help me, it's smiled, I didn't hesitate, I
fired Point Blank, The Recoil slamming into my shoulder, as
the shot rang out like a Thunderclap, the creature
staggered. Letting out a scream that
sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
It recoiled black icore spraying across the walls, but it didn't
fall instead. It twisted its body in a way.
No living thing should be able to move its limbs snapping back
into place with a sickening crack.
James run, Mark, yelled his revolver firing off in Rapid
succession, the creature darted back out into the night, its
movements as jerky and unnatural as before.
But the damage was done. The back door was wide open,
snow blowing in and the house felt exposed vulnerable I
slammed the door shut dragging the broken remnants of the
kitchen table in front of it. We can't stay here.
I said panting, they'll be back. Mark nodded reloading.
His revolver Lily was clutching her mother.
Both of them pale and shaking. Rusty, was growling low.
His eyes locked on the shattered door.
What the hell are they Lily whispered?
Her voice cracked and tears streaked her face.
What do they want? I don't know, I said my voice
hoarse. But I'm not waiting around to
find out. We Gather what weapons?
We had left a couple of shotguns marks revolver and my glock from
the truck. The fire extinguisher caught my
eye and something clicked in my brain.
The fire. The moment I'd littered earlier
everything had started to go wrong.
And now with the door wide open, I could see the tracks circling,
the pit like a predator stalking prey.
They're drawn to the fire. I said my voice low.
We need to put it out. Mark frowned.
And if that doesn't stop them. Then we fight I said but we
don't leave that fire burning. We barricaded Lily and her mom
in the living room with Rusty shoving.
Every piece of furniture, we could find against the doors
Mark. And I made our way to the fire
pit. Stepping into the bitter cold.
snow reflected the faint Moonlight, but the woods were
Pitch Black I could feel the weight of the darkness pressing
in on me every nerve in my body screaming that we were being
watched. Mark was the first to notice
them. Over there.
He whispered pointing toward the tree line.
I followed his gaze and felt my stomach drop.
Three figures stood just beyond the firelight their body's
unnaturally still. One of them tilted its head and
I swear I saw its grin widen. Hurry up Mark hissed.
I grabbed the fire extinguisher, my hands, trembling as I aimed
at the flames, The hiss of the extinguisher cut through the
silence and the fire sputtered and died leaving us in near
total darkness. The creatures didn't move.
They just stood there watching. And then they screamed, it
wasn't a sound I'll ever forget like a mix of static animal
cries and pure rage. The noise was so loud, it felt
like it was drilling into my skull.
Mark, fired his revolver and I emptied my Glock into the
nearest figure, but they didn't scatter like before they came
closer. Back to the house, I shouted,
grabbing Mark by the arm, we ran the snow crunching beneath our
Boots, the sound of the creatures, crashing through the
underbrush behind us. I didn't dare look back.
My only thought was getting inside barricading the door and
holding them off. We burst through the front door
slamming at shut and shoving a bookshelf in front of it.
Rusty barked wildly throwing himself against the barricade
like he could hold it himself. Lily was crying.
Her mother clutching her tightly.
We put out the fire. I said gasping for air but it
didn't stop them. Mark reloaded his revolver, his
hands shaking. Then what the hell do we do now?
The answer came sooner than I wanted the thuds on the walls
started again, louder this time. Windows rattled and the roof
creaked under the weight of something heavy.
I gripped. The rifle sweat dripping.
Down my face, despite the cold. And then just as suddenly as it
started, the noise stopped. The silence was deafening
oppressive. Rusty, stopped barking his ears.
Perked, as he stared at the front door, my heart, pounded in
the Stillness, every second feeling like an eternity,
Finally, Lily spoke her voice. Barely above a whisper Do you
think their gone? Before I could answer there was
a single sharp knock at the door.
The knock echoed through the house like a death Nell
freezing. All of us in place.
Rusty started growling again low and guttural, the hair along his
back standing on end. My fingers tightened around the
rifle until my Knuckles, ache. I didn't move, I didn't breathe
my mind racing with possibilities, knock knock this
time. It was louder harder, like it
was mocking us. My legs felt like lead but I
forced myself to step toward the door.
Mark, grabbed my arm, his face pale.
Don't he said through gritted teeth.
You don't want to see what's out there.
I have to, I whispered, My voice was barely steady but I had to
know, whatever was out there, wasn't going to stop.
I peered through the peephole and my blood ran cold, one of
the creatures was standing on the porch, its head tilted at an
impossible angle. Its face was barely recognizable
as human skin stretched thin. I sunken, but glowing faintly
yellow. Its grin was too wide its teeth
Jagged and uneven. It raised one impossibly long
arm and knocked again this time dragging its claws.
Down the door, the sound like nails on a chalkboard.
I stumbled back shaking my head. We can't stay here.
I said my voice barely audible. We have to go now.
What are you talking about? Lily's mom cried clutching her
daughter. Where would we go there?
Everywhere. I didn't have an answer.
All I knew was that staying men dying will take the truck.
I said glancing at Mark, grab the keys, I'll cover us.
Mark nodded. And for the first time I saw
fear, in his eyes, he handed Lily.
And her mom. The revolver stay behind us.
Do not stop, no matter what. We moved fast barricades
scraping across the floor as we shoved furniture.
Aside, Rusty barked wildly pacing at the door, as if he
knew what was coming. I grabbed him by the collar.
Praying, he wouldn't Bolt. The moment we stepped outside.
I threw the door open and immediately fired around into
the are hoping to scare them off the creature on the porch
screeched and scrambled back into the Shadows, its limbs
moving unnaturally fast. We bolted for the truck Mark and
I firing at anything that moved Rusty.
Stayed closed his teeth bared. His body vibrating with tension.
The truck was only 20 feet away but it felt like a mile.
Shadows, darted between the trees.
And that God, forsaken whistle started up again rising in Pitch
until it felt like my skull was splitting.
Get in. I yelled yanking the driver's
door open. Lily and her mom, piled into the
backseat, Rusty, leaping in after them.
Mark, climbed into the passenger seat, and I slammed the door
shut fumbling with the keys. My hands were shaking so badly.
It took three tries to get the engine to turn over. the
headlights flicked on Illuminating the creatures
swarming, the yard There were at least five of them.
Now their faces Twisted into unnatural grins their eyes
glowing like Embers. One of them crouched low, its
limbs contorting as it prepared to pounce.
Hold on. I shouted, slamming, my foot, on
the gas, the tires, spun on the, icy driveway before catching and
the truck lurched forward. The creature lept slamming into
the side of the truck with a sickening thud.
The whole vehicle rocked and Lily screamed.
I swerved trying to shake it off, but it clawed at the
window, its face pressed against the glass, Mark leaned out the
passenger window, his revolver, in hand and fired.
Point Blank, the creature, let out a horrible Screech and fell
away disappearing under the wheels.
We barreled down the driveway, the truck fishtailing on the
Icee. Gravel the woods closed in
around us the headlights. Barely cutting through the
darkness. I could see them in the rearview
mirror. Their gangly bodies moving
impossibly fast, keeping Pace with the truck, Faster Mark
yelled, but the road was too slick, one wrong move and we'd
end up in a ditch or worse. As we near the edge of the
property, I saw it. The biggest of them all it stood
in the middle of the road easily, Ten Feet Tall, its limbs
stretched. Unnaturally long.
Its face was Almost Human but the mouth stretched wider than
it should the jaw unhinged like a snake's.
It raised its arms Claus glinting in the Headlights.
Brace yourselves. I shouted gripping the wheel.
I didn't slow down. The truck hit the creature head
on with a sickening crunch, its body crumpling under the impact.
The windshield cracked and the truck skidded, but I kept it
Steady. My Heart hammering in my chest.
When I looked back, the thing was already trying to get up its
body twisting grotesquely as it clawed at the ground.
We didn't stop. We tore down the road.
The creatures, Fading Into the Darkness behind us.
The whistle followed us for Miles faint, but persistent like
a warning. When we finally reached the main
highway, I pulled over my hands shaking so badly.
I couldn't hold the wheel Lily was sobbing in the backseat.
Her mom holding her tightly Mark was silent staring Straight
Ahead. His face pale and drawn were not
going back. I said my voice trembling not
ever. Mark nodded will sell the place
burn it. If we have to, we sat there for
a long time. The engine idling, none of us
ready to move. The dark woods loomed in the
rearview mirror, but we didn't look back.
Whatever it happened on that property, whatever those things
were, we left them behind that night, at least, I hope we did.
I should have known it was going to be one of those nights.
The second, we missed the first turn into Greenville.
Matt had the directions or what passed for directions in one
hand and his phone. In the other scrolling through
his playlist. Like picking the right song was
somehow more important than telling me where the hell to go.
The GPS had crapped out miles back.
And all I had to go on, was a screenshot of a text, our friend
sent, which was barely legible, because of her cracked screen.
Just take the left after the old oak and it's at the end of the
road. You can't miss it. spoiler
alert, we could, and we did Dude, we've passed that creepy
tree like three times. Now I muttered gripping the
wheel tighter. The gnarled old oak loomed in
the glow of the headlights, its Twisted branches clawing at the
night sky. Like it wanted to grab us, are
you sure? This is the right way.
Matt didn't even look up swiping to the next song.
Relax man, it's got to be around here somewhere.
Besides this is setting the vibe right creepy Woods spooky
neighborhood. Perfect for a Halloween party.
I didn't reply too. Focused on navigating the pitch
black Road. Greenville wasn't just dark.
It was suffocating. The trees crowded close on.
Either side of the car their Shadows swallowing the narrow
road. every now and then I caught a glimpse of something
strange, a rusted, swing set, half buried in Weeds, a mailbox
leaning at an impossible angle and once a dilapidated house
with no windows, I tried not to think about how long it had been
since I'd seen another car Finally, Matt perked up there.
That's got to be it. He pointed to a driveway on the
right just visible between the trees.
It was long and unlit with no sign of Life at the end.
I hesitated. Are you sure?
It doesn't look like there's a party here.
Matte shrugged its Greenville bro.
Nobody leaves, their porch lights on.
Let's just check it out. Worst case, we're at the wrong
house. I wasn't convinced something
about the driveway, made my skin crawl but I couldn't put my
finger on it. The air felt heavy like the
woods were pressing in on us. Still, I turned in my tires
crunching on gravel, as we slowly crept forward.
The house at the end of the driveway was completely dark.
The curtains were drawn tight and the porch looked like it
hadn't seen a broom in years. No Jacqueline lanterns.
No fairy lights. No faint thump of Bass from the
backyard just silence. And not the peaceful kind, the
kind that makes you check over your shoulder even when you
know, there's nothing there. This doesn't feel right?
I said my voice low. Maybe we should turn around.
Matt rolled his eyes. Come on, man.
We're already here. I'll just knock on the door and
see if it's the right place. I don't think.
What's the worst that could happen?
He was already out of the car before I could stop him.
His phone flash, like, cutting a weak beam through the darkness.
I stayed in the car gripping. The wheel so hard.
My Knuckles ached. My gut screamed at me to leave
but I didn't want to be that guy the paranoid one who ruins the
night because he's too chicken to check his stupid house.
Still, my eyes stayed glued to the upstairs window where I
swore. I saw a curtain twitch.
A shadow shifted behind the glass just for a moment.
Matt, I called my voice shaking, maybe we should the crack of
shattering glass, cut me off for a split second.
I thought Matt had broken something but then the sound of
gunfire ripped through the night and my windshield exploded in a
spray of shards. Get down matt screamed diving
for the ground as another shot rang out.
This one's slamming into the hood of the car.
I ducked my heart, pounding, so hard.
I thought it might burst the night erupted into chaos.
The echo of gunfire bouncing off the trees.
And then, I saw it. In the upstairs, window framed
by the darkness was the silhouette of a man, the muzzle
flash lit up, his face, a wild Halo wide expression Twisted
with fear or rage or both. He wasn't yelling, but I could
see his lips. Moving screaming.
Something. I couldn't hear over the
gunfire. Matt scrambled back toward the
car. His phone flashlight swinging
wildly Derek. Go go.
But I couldn't move. I was frozen staring at the man
in the window as he raised the rifle again with shaking hands,
I threw the car into reverse The tires spun uselessly on the
gravel for half a second before catching jerking us backward.
Another shot shattered, the rear window and I ducked lower barely
able to see over the dashboard. The car skidded wildly as I
backed onto the road, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
Go go, go, Matt shouted. Slamming the door.
Shut, as I straightened out and floored it.
The tires squealed as we sped away the Roar of the engine
drowning out, the sound of my heartbeat.
The woods blurred passed us, the Shadows dancing.
Like they were chasing us. Only when we were halfway down
the road, did I realize my hands were covered in blood.
For a moment. I thought it was mine, then I
glanced at matte slumped against the door clutching his chest.
Think I've been hit, he whispered his voice barely
Audible. The woods seemed to close in
tighter around us. The darkness pressing against
the shattered windows. I gritted my teeth and pushed
the accelerator to the floor praying, we'd make it out alive.
The sound of gunfire was still ringing in my ears.
My brain couldn't process. What it just happened.
One second, we were pulling into a driveway.
The next we were being hunted. My hands trembled on the wheel.
As I floored the gas pedal, the shattered windshield throwing
shards of moonlight into the car, like glittering knives.
Every breath felt like it could be my last.
Matt, I yelled my voice cracking.
Are you okay? Say something.
He groaned slumping further into his seat.
My stomach dropped as I glanced at him.
Blood was soaking through his shirt dark and shiny in the
faint light. His phone still clutched in his
hand. Flickered weakly the glow from
It. Cast Shadows over his face pale
and damp with sweat. Keep driving.
He wheezed, just get us out of here.
Another shot cracked through the night.
The rear window exploded. Spraying the backseat with
shards of glass. I jerked the wheel
instinctively, the car swerving dangerously, close to a ditch.
My knuckles were bone white on the wheel, the steering column
shaking As I push the car harder than it was meant to go.
Every bump in the road felt like it might tear the wheels out
from under us. in the rearview mirror, the house disappeared
into the Shadows, but I had a feeling that the shooter wasn't
done, The road was so narrow, so dark, and I kept expecting
headlights to appear behind us. Or Worse, the glint of that
rifle barrel again. My mind raced with
possibilities. Was he chasing us?
Was he reloading? Hang on, man, I muttered mostly
to myself. We're gonna make it Matt coughed
and I heard the wet rattling sound.
That came with it. My stomach Twisted.
I stole another glance at him. His eyes were barely open and
his chest Rose and fell in Shallow uneven gasps.
Stay with me. Matt, I said Panic creeping into
my voice. Just hang in there.
Okay, we're not far. He didn't answer his phone
slipped from his hand, landing on the floor with the dull thud,
I couldn't look down, couldn't reach for it.
My entire Focus was on the road ahead.
The trees were blurs of black on either side of Us closing in
like walls, the beams of my headlights.
Barely cut through the thick Darkness, every shadow looked
like it could hide something. Someone And then it happened.
A figure darted into the road ahead of us, just a flash,
something, humanoid dark and quick, my instinct screamed.
And I yanked, the wheel to the side, the tires skidded, the
car, lurching violently For a second.
I thought we were going to flip but the tires caught the edge of
the pavement, jerking us, back onto the road.
What the hell was that? I whispered, but Matt didn't
answer. I glanced at him again, and my
chest tightened. His head had led to the side and
his breathing was weaker than before.
No, no, no, no, I muttered not now.
Don't you quit on me, man. I could see a faint.
Glow up ahead. The first sign of civilization
in what felt like forever. Streetlights, we were close, I
pressed the gas. Pedal harder, ignoring the
rattling protest of the engine. The wind whipped through the
shattered, Windows cold and biting, my shoulder throbbed
where the glass had sliced it but I couldn't stop.
I wouldn't stop. As we hit the main road, the
glow of the hospital sign came into view.
The site of it was almost enough to make me cry.
I sped into the parking lot. The tires, screeching as I
slammed on the breaks in front of the emergency entrance.
I jumped out of the car. The cold night air hitting me
like a slap. Help.
I screamed running to Matt's side.
Somebody help us. The ER doors slid open and a
group of nurses and paramedics. Rushed toward us, their faces
were blurred in my vision. My head swimming with adrenaline
and exhaustion hands. Pulled me back as they opened
Matt's door carefully, pulling him from the car and placing him
on a gurney. Blood dripped onto the asphalt
as they wheeled him inside. I stood there Frozen, as the
doors, slid, shut behind them. The parking lot was silent now
except for the distant hum of cars.
On the highway, my hands were shaking uncontrollably, my legs
felt like they might give out and for a second, I thought I
was going to collapse right there.
But I forced myself to move stumbling toward the ER, doors.
Inside the florescent lights were harsh blinding after the
darkness of the night. A nurse tried to talk to me but
her voice was drowned out by the pounding in my ears.
All I could do was mutter is he going to be okay?
We'll do everything we can. She said, guiding me toward a
chair. I sank into it my head and my
hands as the events of the night, replayed over and over,
in my mind, the shooter's face, the sound of the gunfire.
The way, Matt had looked when I realized he'd been hit It all
played in a loop each detail more Vivid than the last.
I didn't notice the blood still dripping from my shoulder or the
way. My clothes were sticking to me
soaked with a mix of sweat and glassed dust.
All I could do was sit there staring at the door mat had
disappeared through waiting for news.
Time had lost all. Meaning, the waiting room was a
florescent Purgatory, the hum of machinery and muffled voices
filling the void where my thoughts should have been.
I couldn't sit still every few minutes.
I got up and pasted the linoleum floor.
My shoes leaving faint red smears with every step.
My shoulder throbbed from the gash.
I hadn't had time to think about.
It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was
Matt I kept replaying it in my head, the gunfire, the
shattering glass, the shadow in the upstairs window.
Each time, the details got sharper.
I could see the man's face. Now wild and gone the rifle
steady in his hands. What had he been shouting?
I strained to remember, but all I could hear was the deafening
crack of the shots and mats labored breathing as we raced
away. The doors to the ER, opened and
my head snapped up a nurse walked out clipboard in hand but
she didn't look at me. She called another name,
ushering, a family toward the back, my heart sank again, how
long had it been an hour to it felt like days.
Finally a doctor stepped into the room, his face calm but
unreadable my chest tightened as he called my name.
I shot up from the chair nearly tripping, over my own feet as I
followed him into a quiet corner, he spoke slowly his
words deliberate but my brain felt like it was waiting through
molasses. Matt is stable, he said and the
wait in my chest ease just a little the bullet collapsed, his
left lung, but we've re-inflated it.
It missed his heart and major arteries, which is the good
news. He's in the ICU now where
monitoring him closely, but his prognosis is good.
I nodded my head bobbing like it was on strings.
Can I see him? Not yet.
The doctor said he needs rest but I promise will let you know
as soon as he's ready for visitors.
The relief was overwhelming and I had to put my head in my hands
to keep from falling apart, right there.
Matt was alive. He was going to make it, but the
doctor kept talking, his voice growing heavier.
The police are here. He said, they'd like to speak
with you about what happened tonight.
I nodded again, my movement stiff.
Of course, they were here. How could they not be?
The car was probably still sitting outside riddled with
bullet holes and coated in red. I forced myself to stand a
little straighter as the doctor guided me toward a pair of
officers waiting near the entrance.
Their questions came hard and fast their faces unreadable as
they scribbled notes into their paths.
I told them everything. The party, the wrong address,
the house at the end of the driveway, the shots the face in
the window. My hands wouldn't stop shaking
but I kept going spilling every detail.
Like I could remember, When I finish, one of the officers,
exchanged a look with his partner.
That address you described. He said it belongs to a man
named Edward marks. He's had issues.
Issues. I repeated the word catching in
my throat. What kind of issues?
Break-ins, the officer said. Two in the last year, one of the
burglars told marks that his friends would be back for
Revenge. He's been paranoid ever since
fortified the house, bought that rifle legally and basically
turned the place into a fortress.
He's convinced someone's coming for him.
The piece is clicked together in my head, a horrible puzzle,
falling into place. He thought we were there to Rob
him. The officer nodded, that's his
claim. He fired because he thought you
were Intruders said, he saw movement outside and didn't want
to take any chances, I clenched my fists, my nails, digging into
my Palms. We didn't even get out of the
car before he started shooting. We know the officer said that's
why he's being charged with attempted murder.
This wasn't self-defense. It was Reckless.
He's lucky. Neither of you were killed
lucky. The word felt like a slap in the
face. I wanted to scream at him to
tell him how close we'd come to dieing because some paranoid
lunatic could take a second to think, but the rage was
swallowed by exhaustion. I was too drained to fight two
hung out to do anything, but not and let the officers leave Hours
later. I finally got to see Matt
walking down the ICU Corridor felt like trudging through
quicksand every step heavier than the last When I reached his
room, I stopped in the doorway, bracing myself.
For what I might see. He looked fragile lying there in
the hospital. Bed tubes sneaking out of his
chest and monitors beeping softly beside him.
But when his eyes fluttered open and he saw me a weak smile
spread across his face, you made it.
He croaked his voice barely Audible.
Damn, right? I made it.
I said, forcing a grin as I stepped closer.
You scared the hell out of me, man.
He chuckled then Winsted his hand moving to his chest.
Don't make me laugh. It hurts.
I wanted to tell him everything, the shooter, the police, the
hospital staff calling him a miracle, but the words stuck in
my throat? Instead I sat beside him silent
until he spoke again. You saved my life, he said his
voice softer this time. Know I replied shaking my head,
you saved mine, Matt didn't argue, he didn't have to, we
both knew the truth. If he hadn't been holding his
phone, if the light from it hadn't drawn, the shooter's aim,
it would have been me who took that shot, and I wouldn't have
made it Matt recovered, but the scars of that night, never left
me the sound of gunfire haunted my dreams.
And every time I passed a darkened window, I felt a chill.
Crawl up, my spine. I learned later that Edward,
Marx had pleaded, no contest, and been sentenced to five years
in prison, five years for nearly killing us.
It didn't feel like enough but at least it was something.
Fear makes people do crazy things.
Matt said, maybe he was right, but fear wasn't an excuse and I
knew I'd never step foot in Greenville again.
Some nightmares are better left behind, be careful out there.
The road out of town seemed narrower than I remembered.
Jason's truck, Joel sold over the uneven.
Gravel dust kicking up behind us like a cloud, trying to catch
our tailgate. He was in the driver's seat, one
hand, Loosely gripping the wheel, the other tapping to the
beat of some old country song crackling through the ancient
speakers. I wasn't paying attention to the
music. My eyes were fixed on the dense
wall of pine trees crowding. The road on either side, their
trunks Standing Tall. Relaxed Jason said, catching my
gaze. You look like you're expecting
Bigfoot to jump out or something.
I snorted, but my grip on the edge of my seat didn't loosen.
It's not Bigfoot. I'm worried about this place
looks off. Like the kind of spot people go
to disappear. Jason laughed.
The sound sharp in the tight cab of the truck.
That's the point. Caleb no cell service.
No crowds, just us and nature. You'll love it.
I didn't answer instead, I squinted at the hand drawn Maps,
it on my lap. Jason's co-worker had scribbled
it on the back of a diner napkin complete with misspelled
landmarks and Vegas. Instructions, like turn at the
big rock and head past the old fence line.
It was the kind of map you'd see in a bad horror movie the one
that protagonist finds clutched in a skeleton's hand.
Jason veered the truck off the main road.
Pulling into what I guessed was the parking lot.
It was nothing more than a patch of dirt surrounded by brush the
trees leaning in so close. It felt like they were
eavesdropping. This is it.
I asked scanning the area. No sign, no trailhead.
Jason grind hopping out of the truck.
That's how you know, it's a Hidden Gem.
Come on, grab your pack. I followed him reluctantly
slinging my gear over one shoulder.
The trail or what I assumed was the trail was barely visible.
It cut through the underbrush like a fading memory, overgrown
and forgotten. Each step we took felt like we
were trespassing. The forest Whispering its
disapproval, with the rustle of leaves.
We walked in silence for a while.
The air thick with the smell of Pine and damper Earth.
The only sounds with the crunch of our boots in the occasional
snap of a twig underfoot. It should have been peaceful but
my nerves were on edge. Something about the quiet.
Didn't sit. Right.
It wasn't just quiet. It was still no Birdsong, no
insects just nothing. You feel that I asked, breaking
the silence. Jason glanced over his shoulder.
Feel what? I hesitated.
I don't know, like we're not supposed to be here.
Jason, rolled his eyes. You've been watching too many
movies. It's just a trail man, lighten
up. But I couldn't my eyes kept
darting to the Shadows between the trees.
Half expecting to see movement. I told myself it was just my
imagination but my gut was telling a different story.
After an hour of hiking, the forest opened up into a clearing
and I stopped dead in my tracks, Jason's so called Mountain.
Meadow was a swamp. The water was stagnant and
murky, choked with algae and surrounded by a ring of decaying
trees. The are wicked of rot and a low,
buzzing of flies added to the oppressive atmosphere.
Hidden Gem. I said, trying to keep the
sarcasm out of my voice. Jason's scratched.
The back of his neck, looking sheepish.
Okay, maybe it's not what I expected, but hey, it's quiet.
Too quiet, I muttered. That's when I saw it across the
swamp, partially obscured by the trees was a tent.
It was old and sagging the fabric stained with streaks of
green and brown. But it wasn't the 10th that
caught my attention. It was the figure standing near
it. Jason.
I said my voice barely above a whisper, what I pointed, he
followed my gaze, his eyes narrowing, what the hell?
The figure was motionless standing just at the edge of the
water. They were too far away to make
out any details. But something about their
posture didn't sit right? It wasn't natural.
It was stiff. Like, they were frozen in place
watching us. I raised a hand in a
half-hearted wave unsure of what else to do?
The figure didn't move didn't wave back.
They just stood there. Jason, let out a nervous.
Laugh. Probably some camper or a
hunter. Then where's their gear their
fire and why are they just staring?
He Shrugged but I could see the tension in his shoulders, who
knows, maybe they're shy. Let's set up camp.
We climbed a small hill. Overlooking the swamp and
pitched. Our tents in the flattest spot.
We could find Jason, tried to lighten the mood cracking jokes
as we unpacked, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were
being watched. Every time I glanced back at the
swamp, the figure was still there unmoving. by the time, the
sun dipped below the tree line, the figure had vanished Jason
claimed not to notice when it happened but I did.
One moment they were there and the next the swamp was empty.
I told myself it didn't matter that it was just some loner,
minding their own business. But as the Shadows lengthened
and the air grew colder, I couldn't help but feel like we
weren't alone. Something about this place
wasn't right. And I had a Sinking Feeling.
We were about to find out why? The fire crackled softly.
It's light flickering off the surrounding trees.
Like, the forest itself was alive and breathing.
Jason, sat across from me his face glowing orange in the
firelight laughing at one of his own jokes.
I tried to laugh with him, but my eyes kept drifting past his
shoulder scanning the dark, woods beyond our camp.
Still thinking about that guy by the swamp.
Jason asked his voice teasing but low enough to match the
quiet around us. Can you blame me?
I said, who just stands there like that.
No gear, no fire. Nothing.
Jason Shrugged poking. The fire with a stick Sparks.
Floated into the air like tiny fireflies.
Probably just a weirdo. You know how these Backwoods
types are they like their privacy?
That's not privacy. I said glancing toward the
swamps Direction that's something else.
Jason didn't respond. He just tossed the stick Into
the Fire leaned back in his camp, chair and closed his eyes,
like he was settling in for a nap.
I envied how easily he brushed things off.
For him alone, figure standing in the woods was an oddity to
laugh about for me. It was a reason to keep one hand
near my knife. The woods around us were
impossibly dark. The fire was the only source of
light and Beyond. Its reach was a wall of
Blackness, that seemed to press in closer with every passing
minute. The forest was quiet again.
Two quiet, no wind, no crickets, no distant howls, just silence
thick and heavy. I shifted in my seat, trying to
relax but my mind kept replaying the moment at the swamp, the
figure standing there unmoving the way they vanished without a
sound. It was wrong.
Everything about this place felled wrong.
Jason's eyes, snapped open. And for a second, I thought he'd
finally felt it too. That creeping unease that had
been clawing at me since we arrived.
But his eyes weren't on me, they were locked on something behind
me. I turned slowly my stomach
tightening like a coiled spring there.
Just beyond the firelight was a figure.
The same one from the swamp. They were closer now, no, more
than 20 feet away standing just at the edge of the light.
Their silhouette was sharper this time long matted hair that
hung over their face closed. That looked tattered and dark.
They weren't watching Jason they were watching me.
My voice caught in my throat. Hello.
Jason stood up slowly his hands half raised like he was trying
to calm a spooked animal. Hey man you okay, you lost her
something. The figure didn't move didn't
speak. They just stood there.
Swaying slightly like the wind was pushing them.
Except there was no wind, my heart, hammered and my chest as
Jason took a step forward. Look, if you need help before,
he could finish the figure turned and bolted into the
woods, the movement was sudden almost unnatural They didn't
stumble or hesitate just melted into the trees with a speed that
made my skin crawl. Jason lowered, his hands.
Exhaling loudly while that was weird.
Weird. I snapped standing up so fast.
My chair tipped over. That's all you've got weird.
Jason looked at me like I was overreacting.
What do you want me to say? The guys, probably just some
crackhead or a squatter who didn't want us calling the cops?
Does that seem normal to you? I gestured toward the spot where
the figure had stood standing there watching us, not saying a
word then running like that. Jason didn't answer right away
instead. He walked to the edge of the
firelight squinting into the trees, as if he could spot the
figure lurking in the shadows. I'll admit it's creepy but I'm
not about to pack up and Hike out in the dark because of some
weirdo. I wanted to argue but he wasn't
wrong. The thought of walking back
along that overgrown Trail and pitch black darkness made my
skin crawl. Still the idea of staying here
knowing that someone or something was out there,
watching us wasn't much better. We keep the fire going.
Jason said, firmly as if he'd made the decision for both of
us. If they come back, we'll see
them. And if they don't come back, I
asked lowering my voice. What then?
Jason gave me a shrug then we get some sleep and leave first
thing in the morning. Either way, we'll deal with it.
His confidence didn't call me but it gave me a plan and that
was better than nothing. I stoked the fire until it was
roaring. Then sat with my back to the
tents, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement, Jason
tried to keep the mood light cracking jokes and telling
stories. But even he was quieter than
usual, neither of us was laughing, much At some point, I
must have dozed off because the next thing I knew Jason was
shaking me away. His face was pale, his eyes wide
with fear. Of he whispered his voice
shaking their back. I bolted up right?
My pulse pounding in my ears. Jason pointed toward my tent and
I followed his finger. There crouched low to the ground
was the figure. They were close enough that I
could hear their breathing shallow, raspy and uneven.
Their head was tilted slightly like they were studying us.
When they realized I was awake. They bolted again disappearing
into the woods without a sound. My knife was in my hand before I
even realized, I'd grabbed it. We're not sleeping.
Jason said, firmly his voice steadier than I expected.
We keep the fire going until sunrise and we leave the second.
There's enough light to see I nodded unable to speak my hands
were shaking, but I tightened my grip on the knife and forced
myself to stay alert, the woods around us were alive with
shadows and every crack of a branch made me flinch.
For the rest of the night. We sat in Silence the fire
blazing between us like the only thing keeping the Darkness at
Bay. I couldn't shake the feeling
that the figure wasn't gone. They were still out there
watching waiting. And I was certain that if Jason
hadn't woken me up, I wouldn't have been alive to see the
sunrise. By the time, the first gray
light of dawn, began filtering through the trees.
I felt like I had aged a decade. My hands were crammed from
gripping, my knife all night, and my eyes burned from staring
into the dark. Trying to spot any hint of
movement Jason, sat across from me, pale and Silent clutching a
Long Branch. He'd sharpened in to a makeshift
spear. we hadn't said much since the figure disappeared hours ago
and the silence between us felt as heavy as the night, Let's go.
Jason said finally his voice hoarse.
We've got enough light now. I nodded my body stiff as I
stood. We packed in near silence
rushing to stuff gear into our bags with jittery hands.
Every snap of a twig made me Flinch, my head whipping toward
the sound. The fire had burned low just
Embers now but we didn't bother stoking.
It the thought of staying here one more second was unbearable.
as we hoisted, our packs, Jason gestured toward the trail Stay
close. Don't stop for anything.
We descended the hill. The swamp coming into view, In
the daylight, it looked even worse than before like a place
that had been forgotten by Nature itself.
The tent was still there, slumped and decaying, but there
was no sign of the figure. Still.
I felt their presence like they were just out of sight, lurking
in the shadows of the trees. The trail was narrow and
overgrown. The underbrush clawing at my
legs as we moved quickly through it.
I kept my eyes forward, but my ears were tuned to every sound
behind us. The Stillness that had unnerved
me the day before was gone, replaced by the occasional snap
of a branch or rustle of leaves that seemed just a little too
close. After about 20 minutes, Jason
stopped abruptly holding up a hand.
Wait what? I whispered my voice, barely
audible, he pointed to the ground there in the soft, dirt
of the trail were Footprints fresh ones, they were larger
than mine uneven. Like whoever made them had been
dragging one foot. They let in the same direction,
we were heading toward the truck.
They were ahead of us. Jason said his voice tight at
some point during the night. My stomach dropped, I wanted to
turn around, run back the way we came, but I knew that wasn't an
option. We had to keep going.
Jason's started walking again, his movements slower now his
head constantly swiveling to scan the trees We reach the
truck faster than I expected, but the sight of, it didn't
bring the relief. I thought it would My breath
caught in my throat when I saw the muddy handprint smeared
across the windows. They were not random, they were
deliberate placed. In the middle of each window
like someone had pressed their hands flat against the glass to
appear inside. Jason, cursed under his breath
and reached for the driver's side door.
Let's just get out of here. Wait, I said grabbing his arm.
What if they're still here? What if He yanked the door open.
Cutting me off. The inside of the truck was
empty, but the smell of damp Earth, wafted out faint.
But unmistakable, someone had been here.
We threw our packs in the back and climbed in Jason turned.
The key and the engine sputtered to life.
He backed out of the clearing so fast.
The tires. Kicked up a spray of dirt and
leaves I kept my eyes on the woods half expecting to see the
figure standing at the edge of the trees watching us.
Leave But there was nothing. Just the endless stretch of
trees and darkness. The drive back was silent.
Jason kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white on the
steering wheel. I didn't even look at the
passenger side window. I didn't want to see if
something, or someone was pacing us through the trees.
When we finally reached the main road, the tension in the cab
broke like a dam. Jason X Hale shakily, his hands
loosening on the Wheel. Sheriff's Office.
He asked glancing at me. I nodded.
Yeah, the deputy didn't laugh at our story like I thought he
might instead, he listened carefully, his expression
growing darker, as we described the figure, the tent and the
handprints on the truck. When we mentioned the
footprints, he leaned forward, his jaw tightening.
You said this was near the old green Creek Trail.
He asked Jason nodded. Yeah.
Why the deputy side and leaned back in his chair?
We had a missing hiker reported in that area.
A couple of months ago young guy mid-20s we found his tent near
the swamp but no sign of him. Figured he'd wandered off and
got lost in the woods. but now, He shook his head, you boys are
lucky. You got out of there.
Lucky. Jason scoffed.
We were one wrong move away from he stopped his jaw clenching.
The deputy stood and grabbed his hat, I'll send a team out to
check the area again but my advice.
Stay out of those woods. We didn't need to be told twice.
Back in the truck. Jason broke the silence first.
I don't care what anyone says, I'm never setting foot in those
woods again. I nodded gripping the door
handle like it might fly open. If I didn't.
Same here. We drove the rest of the way in
silence, leaving the forest and whatever was in it behind us.
But even now I can't stop thinking about it.
About the figure watching us. About the footprints on the
trail and the handprints on the truck.
About how close we came to being another unsolved mystery and
about how no matter how much time passes, I'll never go back
to those woods, not for anything.
The dirt road stretched out ahead of me, nothing.
But darkness and endless Montana trees on either side.
My trucks headlights carved weak tunnels through the thick
Shadows, but even then I could barely see 10 feet in front of
me. It had been over a year since I
had been to the cabin and I was kicking myself for not coming
back sooner to clear the trail. Overgrowth, scraped against the
truck like claws, dragging down the sides.
The crunch of branches beneath my tires braking the otherwise
suffocating silents. I finally got a glimpse, the
faint outline of the cabin emerging from the trees, like a
ghost. Relief, washed over me.
I threw the truck into park and killed the engine.
For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the cabin under the
pale glow of the Moon. It looked smaller than I
remembered, almost hunched under the weight of the mountain
behind it. I stepped out pulling my jacket
tight against the Chill. The air up here.
Had a way of biting right through you the kind of cold
that didn't care how many layers you had on.
The smell of forest and rain was sharp almost two sharp.
Like something had been recently, Disturbed ignored the
weird feeling creeping up my neck and grabbed my duffle bag
from the backseat The porch creaked under my boots, as I
climbed the steps. It always creaked but tonight,
it was different. Halo.
As I fumbled for the keys, I caught myself glancing over my
shoulder. There was nothing but trees and
darkness, but I still couldn't get rid of the feeling that
something or someone was staring at me.
When I unlocked the door and stepped inside the cold, hit me
like a slap. It wasn't the usual kind of
cold. The kind you expect from a place
that's been empty for months. This was different sharp almost
unnatural. I flicked on the light.
The back window was shattered, glass, was everywhere glinting
like Jagged Stars across the floor.
My first thought was an animal, a bear, maybe or a coyote.
But as I walked closer, the broken edges of the glass caught
my eye. It looked like something had
broken in, not out. I did a quick sweep of the
cabin, my heart, pounding harder with each step, bedroom,
bathroom kitchen. It was all exactly as I had left
it no, overturned Furniture, no signs of anyone rifling through
my stuff, nothing missing at least not that I could tell.
Just that broken window, cold air creeping in like an
unwelcome guest. I tried to calm myself down.
Bears didn't think twice about smashing a window if they
smelled food. Hell, I'd heard of them tearing
through car doors for a pack of gum.
Still, I couldn't lose the tension coiling in my chest.
Something about the scene, felt odd.
I found an old tarp in the shed and nailed it over the window
muttering to myself about the hassle of fixing it.
By the time I was done, the moon had risen higher, casting Long
Shadows through the cabin. The firewood was stacked where I
left it on the porch. So I hauled some inside and got
a fire going. The crackle and warmth helped a
little. Sitting in the armchair with a
drink in hand, I tried to relax, but every Sound Outside made my
ears perk up, the wind moaned through the trees like it was
alive carrying faint. Russells that I told myself were
just leaves. The light from the fire danced
across the walls, but the tarp over the window.
Flapped faintly, just enough to set my teeth on edge.
I checked the time just after 11 p.m.
I added another log to the fire, letting the heat build.
Then I shut off the lights. Locked the doors and crawled
into bed setting. My alarm for Dawn.
As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but
replay the image of the shattered window in my mind.
If it wasn't a bear, what was it?
The cabin was so quiet. I could hear my own heartbeat.
The fire in the Next Room popped occasionally, but that only made
the silence between the noises feel heavier.
Just as I was finally starting to drift off the wind out side.
Picked up again, rattling the tarp against the cabin.
For a second. I thought I heard something else
beneath it like footsteps crunching through the leaves.
But that was impossible, right? I squeezed my eyes shut and
forced myself to sleep, trying to ignore the nagging feeling
that I wasn't as a loan out here, as I'd hoped.
I woke up gasping. Like I just surfaced from a deep
dark Lake. My heart was pounding so hard.
It felt like it might break through my ribs.
I reached for my phone on the nightstand and the glow from the
screen told me it was 217 a.m. I didn't know why I was awake.
No nightmare no sound that I could remember just this awful
heavy feeling pressing down on my chest like something was
wrong. The cabin was silent two silent,
the fire in the Next Room had burned down to Embers and the
only noise was the faint whistle of the wind outside.
For a minute, I sat there trying to convince myself that it was
just a bad dream. But something felt off.
The air in the room was colder than before sharp enough to
raise Goosebumps on my arms. I slid out of bed, moving
slowly. So the Creak of the old
floorboards wouldn't Echo too loudly.
My flash light sat on the dresser and I grabbed it
gripping it tightly, like a weapon.
I told myself I was being ridiculous.
This was my cabin, my space. There was no one here but me,
but that thought didn't stop the hairs on the back of my neck
from standing on end. When I cracked open the bedroom
door, the cold, hit me immediately an icy wave that
sent a chill down my torso. I stepped into the hallway.
Aiming, the flashlight toward the living room.
The beam cut through the darkness, revealing, the usual,
the couch, the fireplace the chair, where I'd been sitting
hours earlier, the tarp over the broken window was loose flapping
gently in the breeze. And on the floor, glistening
faintly in the light were muddy Footprints.
My breath caught in my throat, as I took a step closer, the
prints were big, clearly a man's boots, and the mud looked fresh
still wet and dark. The trail started at the broken
window. My flash light, followed the
footprints as they wound across the living room floor, leading
straight toward the hall way. Toward me.
I froze, my pulse hammering in my ears, The prince continued
down the hall. Way stopping.
Just outside my bedroom door, the door.
I just come through. I turned and looked behind me
the flashlight shaking slightly in my hand.
My stomach dropped when I saw the rest of the trail.
The prince didn't stop at the door.
They can continue to my bedroom up to my bed, the blood drained
from my face as my mind raced to piece together what that meant?
Someone had been in my room. Someone had been standing right
next to me while I was sleeping. My flashlight beam flicked to
the floor. Again, desperately searching for
another Trail prints leading away from the bed, back to the
window, or even the front door, but there was nothing, no, exit
Trail. Whoever it was, they hadn't
left. I wanted to run my body screamed
at me to turn around and bolt for the door, but I couldn't
move. I felt trapped, like, if I made
a sound, whatever or whoever was still here would hear me.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to step back toward the
bedroom. My hands were clammy.
As I gripped, The Flash lighting, it toward the floor,
beneath the bed, I leaned down slowly, every nerve in my body
on fire. The beam of light swept across
the floor. Catching Shadows dust and a hand
pale still an unmistakably human.
I shot upright, the blood roaring in my ears, my chest
felt tight, my breaths shallow and quick without thinking I
spun and bolted down the hall. The flash light smacked against
the wall. As I sprinted for the front
door, my hands fumbling for the lock behind me.
I swore I heard movement something scraping against the
floor, slow and deliberate. I didn't look back.
I couldn't My fingers finally found the lock and I yanked.
The door open, the icy night are slamming into me.
I sprinted to the truck my feet slipping on the gravel as I
struggled to pull the keys from my pocket.
My hands were shaking so badly. I dropped them twice before
finally getting the door unlocked.
I threw myself inside locked the doors and started the engine.
As the truck roared to life. I glanced up at the cabin.
My headlights washed over the front window, the tarp flapping
in the Wind. For a split second.
I thought I saw a shadow moving inside, just beyond the
firelight. I slam the truck into reverse
and tore down, the dirt Trail branches whipping against the
side as I drove faster than I ever had before I didn't stop
until I reached the main road miles away.
My mind was racing replaying every terrifying detail, the
prince, the hand, the noise behind me.
I couldn't make sense of any of it.
I don't know who, or what was in that cabin with me.
But I do know one thing I'll never set foot there again.