Creepy - Haunted House & Ghosts Of Thatcher Wood

Episode Date: November 17, 2022

Haunted House***Written by: Angie Ashton and Narrated by: Michelle Kane***Ghosts Of Thatcher Wood***Written by: Cyndi Gradel and Narrated by: JV Hampton-VanSant***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***Title music by Alex Aldea Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Welcome to the bloody disgusting network. No. This is creepy. A podcast dedicated to sharing the most famous chilling and disturbing creepypastas and urban legends in the world. Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of biocations of violence, Silence and explicit language.

Listener discretion is advised. Creepy presents. Haunted House. Written by Angie Ashton and narrated by Michelle Kane. Every neighborhood has one. That one creepy house that the older kids used to scare the younger kids with. That one that isn't kept up quite as nice as the rest? Maybe it was one of the first houses in the area.

Maybe the people who live there are older and can't care for it like they used to. Maybe someone lives there who just doesn't give it down. Or maybe there's something more sinister. In my neighborhood, that house was next to ours. There was a huge overgrown row of bushes between our yard and theirs, with a few small gaps for people to get through. But from my bedroom window on the second floor of the house, I could see just over the top of the bushes and trees. I could see the house in a small corner of the yard, when the moon was full and there were no clouds, that is.

The streetlights didn't offer any illumination. There never seemed to be much, if any, light coming from the house itself. My babysitter was fascinated and even brought her boyfriend up to my room to look out at her. They talked in hushed tones and wouldn't tell me what they were saying. Mostly, though, they would just stare at it, watching it to see if they could make out any movement. Eventually, her boyfriend would get bored and lead her back downstairs after telling me to go on to sleep. One night, though, when he couldn't sneak over, I talked her into telling me about the house and who lived there. Well, all right, she said hesitantly.

I'll tell you a little bit about it, but if you have bad dreams, you can't tell on me. I won't, I won't. I promise, I said excitedly. Okay, Jenny, go get in bed, and I'll be up in a minute or two. I ran right upstairs and even brushed my teeth without having to be told. I pulled on my pajamas as fast as I could and got into bed and under the covers, as I heard Sarah coming up the stairs. She paused at my door, looking at the window before she took a deep breath and came over to my bed. She sat down heavily, pulling her legs up and crossing them where she had plopped at the end of the mattress.

I sat up with my pillows behind me against the headboard and waited for her to start. From where she was sitting, her back was towards the window. She looked back over her shoulder and took a deep breath. Sarah, I whispered, what's wrong? I just don't know if I should really be telling you anything about that place, she said. I just think it might be too much for you. Oh, come on. You know I like scary stuff, I protested.

Yeah, but all that stuff you read and watch, it's all make-believe. This is real. It's right next door, too. Sarah, you said you would. You're not going to let me get out of this, are you? Nope. Okay, but remember, you asked for this. I felt triumphant, but later I would regret coming to know what she told me.

She was right. I had not been ready for what she told me. The house next to mine had been built long before the neighborhood was. When it had been built, there was nothing but fields and big trees that were on this side of the house that had part of a big forest that extended for miles around. Sarah had said that she had heard that their closest neighbors back then had been miles away. That's why the house didn't face the same way that ours did. Because everything had grown up around it and it had just been left there, walled off by what was left of the forest and the overgrown bushes between it and the rest of the street.

The same family had owned it with generation on generation. taking it over as it passed from parents to children. The name of the family had been forgotten, or at least Sarah said she had never heard what it was. Although one time she heard her parents talking about how someone should do something about that place, and she had assumed they had been talking about it. She jerked her head toward the house, so I'd know for sure, but I was following.

While they were talking, she heard them say, Farmer. She never knew if that was the family name or what, but she had started thinking of it as the farmer place after that. If that was what she called it, it definitely was what I would call it to. So, the farmer place began to take on a life of its own in my mind with each detail that Sarah provided. The most recent farmer generation seemed to be the last, though. There hadn't been kids in the house for as long as Sarah could remember. Sarah's parents had lived nearby, and she had asked her grandparents about the farmers one time. Her grandmother had crossed herself and spit on the ground in a very theatrical way,

why her grandfather had just shaken his head and murmured that it had been a tragedy, what had happened to that poor family. But that was all either of them would tell her. Her uncle had been more talkative, a couple of years after that, at a family Fourth of July barbecue. He was into his second six-pack and was very chatty at that point. They had been outside by the fire pit, and everyone else had opted for the indoors, away from the bugs and humidity of the July night. He took the opportunity to light up a cigar,

and Sarah knew she would have a good amount of time alone with him while he smoked and drank. So, she said, everything I know about that place I heard from Uncle Frank. Is this the same, Uncle, that tried to tell you chocolate milk came from brown cows when you were little? I had heard stories about Uncle Frank. The same, Sarah said with a smile. I knew she loved him to the moon and back. So this might be made up? No, Sarah said confidently.

He was thoughtful in how he told it, and I don't think he'd make up what he told me, Sarah explained. Maybe I caught him off guard. Maybe it was the beer. I don't know, but he wouldn't make up anything like this. No one would. Well, what did he tell you? Who were the farmers and why aren't there any more of them?

Who said there weren't any more of them? Sarah stopped and asked seriously. You think the house is empty? That no one lives there anymore. I had never seen anyone over there or anyone going in or out. There certainly weren't any kids and no cars. How could there be anyone there? Sarah saw the confusion on my face and continued with the story as her uncle had told her.

When her uncle was a kid, their family had lived in a neighborhood that was not far from where I live now. It was a different area, but it still bordered the farmer place. The back end of that neighborhood came up against what was left of the forest that lined the side of the farmer place. When Uncle Frank was young, he had a brother named Sam. At 13, they actually went to the farmer house. Sam didn't come back. I practically held my breath and grabbed a pillow and squeezed it to my chest. This was too good to believe.

Sarah continued. It was Halloween. Sam and Frank were hanging. hanging out with their friends, and they were bored. They were too old to trick-or-treat, too young to go to any of the parties. So they were all hanging out at Sam and Frank's house, watching scary movies and passing out candy, that they didn't eat themselves,

while their parents were at the neighborhood party at the community center. As the trick-or-treater slowed and then stopped coming by, they got really bored. The same old movies, same old stories. Then, one of their friends decided to tell a story about the old farmer place. He said that he had heard the last family to live there was murdered by their own son. And that son still lived in the house, but he was a recluse, a shut-in. He never came out and he never went anywhere.

He was just surviving on rats, roaches, and snakes. the occasional lost pet that wandered too close to the house. But he longed for the taste of human flesh. See, not only had he killed his parents, but he had also eaten them. The cops that found him had never seen anything like it. They all got super messed up by it. Some ended up committing suicide. Others ended up in mental hospitals, but none of them.

of them ever were the same after what they saw in the house. Anyway, Sam and Frank became obsessed. When they challenged their friend on the truth of his story, he said that the son had been arrested but never stood trial. He admitted to everything he had done. He spent a lot of years in the mental ward of the state prison, but eventually was let out. He had nowhere to go and no one to go, too. so he returned his family home.

It had been boarded up, but no one would go near it to tear it down. They just let it go, and the yard grew up around it, and the house just sort of sat, like it was waiting for something. It seemed just reasonable enough that the group sat quietly considering the story. Sam was the first to speak. No way. Yes way. He's over there right now, probably gnawing.

on a mouse or a rat, maybe even a possum. Then let's go over and leave some candy on the porch for him. Are you dense? He only eats flesh. If you went up on that porch, he'd grab you and pull you in the house and feast on you for days, his friend declared. Eventually, as things did back then, Sam and Frank were double dog dared, and it was on. The boys loaded up with a bag of the candy they didn't like, some chips, and a bottle of Coke. They took all the flashlights they could find, and off they went through the woods behind Sam and Frank's house. Crossing a stream meant they were leaving the security of their own

neighborhood and entering the property that belonged to the farmers. A couple of the boys got too scared and ran off, back to their own homes. And as they got close to the edge of the woods, it was only Sam, Frank, and their friend, Andy, who had told the story. They crept around the edge of the woods to where they could see the front porch of the house. There was no light at all from the home, and the night was overcast and chilly. They couldn't tell if their goose flesh was from being scared or from the wind. Frank had told Sarah that he had felt like they were being watched, but he kept trying to shake that off as an effect of the story Andy had told earlier. But as they crouched there, even Andy, who had issued the double-dog dare, seemed to

lose his nerve. He offered to drop the dare. They could just leave the candy where they were and go back. Frank thought that sounded fine, but Sam didn't. No, he whispered, we've come this far. Look at that place. There's no way anybody lives there. Y'all are just a couple of yellow-bellied babies. Watch. Sam took the bag and the biggest, brightest flashlight they had and started off across the yard to the house. Frank had tried to grab his brother to stop him, but he missed, only swiping at Sam's shoulder. He and Andy stayed kneeling in the high grass and bushes at the edge of the trees, watching as Sam strode right up the porch steps and knocked at the door. Oh, what the fuck? Frank mumbled. Yo, farmer! Hey man, we brought you some candy. It's Halloween and everyone should have some. It's out here

in a bag on your porch. As he was calling out, he was pacing across the porch, trying to shine the light and where those gaps and the boards were across the windows. Frank thought Sam was being crazy. All he really had to do was drop the candy and run back. He was taking this too far. Something in Frank made him suddenly very afraid for his brother. Sam!

Sam! Come on, man, you've done it. Let's go! But as he was trying to yell for his brother, the wind kicked up and his voice was lost on it. He never knew if Sam heard him or not. Andy was shouting for Sam as well and in the sudden strong gusts. Frank could barely even hear his friend who was right beside him. Frank kept his eyes peeled on the porch, which was now suddenly dark.

Sam had switched off his flashlight and the boys could just barely make him out as he stood near the front of. door. What is that? Do you see it? Andy grabbed Frank's arm. Frank did see something, but he didn't know what it was, or his brain wouldn't let him comprehend. Where before they had been able to make out the front door, there was an empty space, darker than the rest of the porch. Someone had opened the front door, someone who was now standing beside Sam. Frank cried out and tried to get up, but Andy held him back, imploring him to look, and that it was too late. Frank and Andy struggled for a bit until Frank belted his friend, got loose, and ran to the house, yelling for Sam the whole way. As he neared the porch, he tripped on some rocks and stumbled, falling just shy of the steps to the porch.

Thunder sounded around him, and he looked up to see a gnarled and twisted, face looked down at him from the door as lightning flashed nearby. He swore it was laughing at him, but maybe it was just the fangs of the mouth and the way the mouth gaped open. And a second, the face was gone and the door was shut again. Frank yelled for Sam, but all that was left was the toppled over bag of candy, a flashlight that was busted now, and one of Sam's shoes. on its side with a drop of blood running down it. Frank screamed then as Andy grabbed him up and practically dragged him all the way back to his house. Parents were told, cops were called, but when they went in the house, they found nothing.

There was no trace of Sam and no warped and ragged creature, whether it was the last of the farmers or anything else. The only evidence that anything had happened was Sam. shoe. Even the bag of candy was gone, along with the flashlight. Frank had to go to the hospital for a while, and then his parents split up. The stress of losing a child like that, and never knowing what happened to him? It's too much for them. They divorced, and Frank lived with his mom who moved them out to Arizona, hours away from his dad who had stayed behind, and never gave up hope that Sam would come home. Eventually, Frank's mom remarried, and shortly after, Frank had a new baby sister. Your mom! I shouted. My mom. Uncle Frank never talks about Sam, but I know that he came back here for the same

reason his dad never left. He still hopes that somehow he'll find out what happened to his brother. But he's also terrified of the farmer place and won't go too near it. I do know that he keeps an eye on it and keeps kids away from it. I've heard him talking to my dad about it. They want to try and buy it, and my uncle wants to burn it down. They can't find any record of who owns it to make an offer. I get the feeling that that is very weird. So, Sarah said with a big sigh,

that's the story of your neighbor. She got up and went back to the window. Is that why you're always stare over there when you're here? I asked. She was quiet, and I didn't press. I stayed quiet, the full weight of realizing that she had lost an uncle she had never known, in some horrible way right over there, was sinking in to my young brain. I was 11, not much younger than Frank and Sam when they went over there.

So if any of your friends or the other kids in the neighborhood ever get brave, or stupid enough to go over there. Please, don't go with them, she said quietly. I won't, I promise. I replied even more quietly. Sarah, are you okay? She paused for a moment and then turned to me with a smile. She nodded and came over to tuck me in,

but I wouldn't be sleeping this night. She left the room like she would any other time she babysat me, only this time she turned on a lamp that was out in the hallway and left my door open a crack. I heard her go downstairs and I was alone with my thoughts. The farmer place, as I would continue to call it, loomed larger in my imagination than ever before. I lay in bed, consumed with thoughts about half-man, half-demon creatures that would feast on whatever flesh they could get. How long something like that might live in a place as forgotten and forbidden as the firmer place?

Would it ever come out if the small creatures of the night finally quit going in there? Would it ever creep through the woods and up onto my porch? I jerked awake to a noise, realizing that it had been the back door of my house. Was it here? Was it here? No. No, no. that had been a dream. I jumped out of the bed and went to my window. In the moonlight,

I saw Sarah just as she disappeared into the woods. I yelled for her and was frozen by indecision. I saw her come out of the woods and cross the part of the farmer yard that I could see. I could tell she was headed to the front porch. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed, and I could see that there was something at the edge of the porch following as Sarah, around the corner of the house towards the front. I lost sight of her then. I was crying and screaming for her, even though I knew she couldn't hear me.

The storm grew worse, and the lightning flashed again. And I saw it. The thing that had been standing on the porch was out of sight now. But in the flash of lightning, its head peaked around the corner, and two glowing eyes looked directly at me. Like Frank, I thought it was laughing. I could see the fangs in the twisted mouth that gaped open. The eyes narrowed but still glowing.

Then, as quick as it appeared, it was gone. I ran in the hallway and down the stairs just as my parents were coming in. They grabbed me and tried to make sense of what I was telling them in between sobs. My dad looked for Sarah and I tried to tell him she was gone. Eventually, I was able to be able to to make them understand. They called Sarah's parents and Uncle Frank and the Cox. While the moms waited and tried to soothe me, the dads went over to the house to look for her. Uncle Frank disappeared quietly.

The cops came and there was a big search. They never found anything, either at the former place or anywhere else. I knew they wouldn't find her. I never heard from her family again, but I did hear my parents talk. about it one night. Uncle Frank crawled inside a bottle and wouldn't come out. I think he blamed himself for telling her the story, for not realizing that she was as fascinated by it as Sam had been,

for not being able to protect her. Eventually, the city condemned the place and tore it down and cleared the land. It still sits empty, though. People have bought it and sold it, but nothing gets built there. The grass doesn't grow. Nothing grows there now. Not even weeds or vines. It's just this big dirt spot. My parents have put our house up for sale, but most people leave pretty quickly once they see what sits next to us. That's fine. I begin to think that somehow it became my responsibility to keep people away from that cursed spot. So I will inherit my parents' house and stay here myself. Maybe I'll marry. Maybe I won't. I don't know what would be better. Whatever I do, I will have to make sure that whatever happened to Sam and Sarah won't happen again. Not as long as I'm

around anyway. Creepy Presents Ghosts of Thatcher Wood, written by Cindy Gradle and narrated by J.V. Hampton Van Sant. I met the ghosts of Thatcher Wood on Halloween night in 1984. The woods are part of the Cook County Forest Preserves just outside of Chicago. My older brother Rob was 17 that year, and he and his friends hung out there every weekend. That summer, I was 17, and it was the first time my parents started. started letting me stay out late. They made me promise not to hang out in the woods

because some kid had gone missing from there a year before, but my friends and I would go there anyway. Everyone knew the cops did their final sweep at 10 p.m. And then put up the chains. As soon as they were gone, kids would sneak in and build bonfires and hang out. Sometimes I would see my brother there, and he would tell me to get lost.

Or he would just ignore me because he was showing off his Z-28 to some girl. Kids from all over would be there with radios blasting. Guys showed off their Camaros and Mustangs, and all the girls were dressed like Madonna and smoking Marlboro Reds. Every Halloween, they would build a huge bonfire

in a section deep within the one. I was always too young to go, but this year my brother surprised me when he said I could come with him and his friends. I couldn't believe he was letting me hang out with them. He even let me have the front seat in his Camaro on the way there. We cruised down North Avenue while Dawkins just got lucky was blasting from the speakers. His friend Eddie was in the backseat rolling joints. Eddie was my brother's best friend. And he was sort of like a brother to me too

because he was around our house so much. He played the drums, and he was always teasing me about how music was the best way to get girls. Learn an instrument man, he said from the backseat, Women love musicians. His voice was scratchy from all the pot he smoked. He always wore the same loop t-shirt and dirty jeans, but he was right. Somehow he always seemed to get lots of girls.

Sometimes girls would even show up at our house looking for Eddie. Maybe you'll find a girl to be a girl in a house. night. My brother teased me. They both laughed, and I did too, but secretly I was kind of hoping he was right. We stopped at Mickey's hot dogs just before ten. They had a huge parking lot with tables in front that were always filled with kids. It was the spot everyone went to while they waited for the cops to finish their sweep of the woods. Everyone stared at us when we pulled up in the Z. Lots of guys had sweet cars there.

Irocks, Transams, Mustangs, but my brother Z-28 was the best. Everyone envied his car, and I was in the front seat on Halloween night. I sat at a table eating chili fry. while my brother and his friends walked around looking at all the cars. I saw a girl from my class named Linda coming towards me. She had pink feathers in her hair, and she was wearing layers of torn clothes. Hey. She said.

Hey. Who were you supposed to be? What? For Halloween, where's your costume? She said. I'm Cindy Loppa. I was so excited about coming to the woods, I'd forgotten all about a costume. I'm, uh, Kevin Bacon?

I said. Her face lit up and she squealed. Oh, my God. I loved Footloose. I saw it like six times. She grabbed my arm and squeezed. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I was so mad at myself for not remembering a costume. I looked around trying to think of something to say. Her friends called her over to their table and she walked away. I was definitely going to learn how to play an instrument.

A car pulled up to Mickey's and someone yelled out that the cops were gone for the night. Everyone started getting in their cars and heading for the woods. The chain blocking the entrance had already been cut by the time we got there. There were more than 20 cars in the lot and a bunch more following us. The area around the parking lot was a huge field of grass. It had picnic tables and a sheltered area for barbecues. During the daytime, this place was packed with people having parties, family reunions, and just hanging out. At night, it's just a bunch of grass that leads to the edge of the woods.

My brother handed me a cooler, one of those cheap styrofoam ones. I opened the lid and saw two six-packs of Miller Light. Was he going to let me drink beer tonight, too? We all started walking across the grass to the woods. The parking lot had lights in it that stayed on, but once you got past the grass field, everything was dark. I could see the line of trees ahead where kids were going in.

It looked like they were disappearing into thick darkness. I got a little nervous until I started seeing pops of flashlight beams appearing where the kids had disappeared. Here, my brother said, handing me a cheap plastic flashlight. You're going to need one. The bonfire was huge. I couldn't believe a fire that big wasn't going to attract attention, but no one seemed worried about it.

People were sitting on old logs and boulders that were scattered all around. Some people even brought camping chairs. Eddie was arguing with some guy about whether or not Van Halen was still any good, while my brother was making out with some girl on a log behind. us. There were dueling radios playing, and the air was thick with the smell of weed. At some point, the music quieted down, and my brother stood up and started talking to the group. Do you guys know about the ghosts of Thatcher Woods? He said, holding a flashlight under his chin. A few people laughed, then someone called out for my

brother to tell the story. He put the flashlight on the ground facing up to him. He had this weird glow covering the top half of his body, while the rest of him was lit up by the bonfire. I was feeling tipsy from the beer I drank and excited to be around all these older kids. My brother began the story. The boy who disappeared last year wasn't the only person to go missing in these woods. Over the last 50 years, there have been dozens of people who have gone missing. Some of them were kids who came here at night

to hang out and party, just like we're doing right now. Every time somebody went missing, they'd send search parties to comb through these woods. But never. found a trace of any of them. Every year, on Halloween night, the ghosts of all the missing people return. They come back to warn us that we should stay out of these woods.

When the ghosts appear, they don't move or say anything. They stand perfectly still within the trees. Some people say they look like statues, hiding in the darkness. My brother paused, and I realized that everyone had gone quiet. Even Eddie was listening. The only sound was the bonfire crackling and the crickets that were in the tall grass nearby. I was so caught up in the story that I hadn't noticed until just then that Linda was sitting right next to me. She smiled at me and held on to my arm.

I felt like this might be the best night of my life. My brother continued. If you see one of those ghosts, you absolutely must not look them in the eye. If you do, they will take you deep into the woods with them, and you will disappear forever. Don't ever let them touch you. If one of them touches you, your flesh will be charred, and your skin will turn to ashes. If they show up here tonight, there's only one way to survive the Thatcher Woods ghosts. You have to cover your eyes and walk past every ghost without looking at them or touching them.

You have to walk all the way out of the woods like that. If you look them in the eyes even for a second, you'll be stuck in here forever. My brother picked up the flashlight and turned it off. Everyone sat there, quiet. The bonfire sparked and some embers popped out near my feet. I stomped them out and kicked the charred pieces back towards the fire. A few murmurs went through the crowd, until finally someone yelled. Man, that's some bullshit.

Laughter erupted, and the tension was gone just like that. I started laughing, and so did Linda. One of the radios started blaring, slide it in, and the crowd got loud again. I was just about to start talking to Linda when someone yelled, Cops! It got chaotic really fast. The music went off and people started running in all directions into the woods. I could see the heavy beams of police flashlights criss-crossing through the trees in the distance.

When I looked back, Linda was gone. I looked all around, but I didn't see her anywhere. My brother and Eddie were gone too. I took off into the woods behind some other kids. I kept up with them for a while, but then they split off and suddenly I found myself alone in the trees. I could hear the cops yelling at some of the kids they must have caught. I heard muffled voices of a few kids nearby whispering about which way to go. My feet were rustling through the dead leaves and brush.

I stopped and leaned on an oak tree trying to catch my breath. The glow of the bonfire slowly disappeared. The cops must have dumped dirt or sand onto it to do. put it out. I looked around for my brother, but I didn't see him anywhere. I thought about going back towards where the bonfire was, but I didn't want to end up with the police. My parents would kill me, and my brother would never let me hang out with him again if I got caught by the cops. I decided to try and work my way around, through the woods and back to the parking lot. Rob would be waiting for me there.

I remembered I had the flashlight in my jacket pocket. I took it out and turned on the switch. The beam was a dull yellow glow. I shook it and heard the heavy D batteries rattling around. I walked slowly past some trees until I made it to a dirt path. I assumed that it would lead back to the parking lot. The beam from the flashlight was barely enough to light up a foot or two in front of my feet. I kept lifting it to see what was ahead and then pointing it back at the ground so I wouldn't lose the trail.

I didn't hear the police anymore. I didn't hear anything except the crickets and the sound of my feet crushing all the dead leaves and branches that were on the trail. I stopped and leaned against a tree. brushing my hand against some ragged bark. There was a shadow up ahead of me, in the middle of the path. I shined the light on it. It looked like it was another kid. I didn't want to attract the cops in case they were still nearby,

so I whispered as loudly as I could. The kid didn't answer. His back was facing me. He just stood there in the same. the middle of the path. I kept the light on him while I walked closer. I thought Rob and Eddie were playing a joke on me. I called out to the kid again when I got closer. Still, no response. The kid's clothes looked old and dirty, and he smelled awful. It was something like rotting vegetables. I didn't care anymore if this was a joke or not.

I just wanted to get out of these woods. Slowly, I walked past the kid, fully expecting him to reach out and grab me and start laughing. Everyone would have a laugh at my expense, and then we would all get the fuck out of there. But that didn't happen. The kid stayed completely still when I passed him. I kept my eyes on the trees next to me because I was too scared to look in his direction.

I felt my sleeve brush against his arm as I passed him, and then I took off down the path as fast as I could. I listened for footsteps behind me, but none came. When I finally stopped and shined the light back behind me, the figure was still there in the shadows, standing perfectly still. I started moving backwards and bumped right into something. My flashlight slipped to the ground, and I fell hard onto my hands and knees. I felt something sharp cut my palm.

I looked up and realized, I had run into another kid. I started to look at their face, but then I remembered what my brother had said and quickly looked away. I can't look into its eyes. The kid, or ghost, stood there and wasn't moving. I was still on my knees fumbling around

until I found the flashlight. The beam was fading, and the light was just, a small glow near my knees. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely hold the light steady. I pushed myself up and started running, keeping the tiny beam of light ahead of me the best that I could. The ghost didn't follow me. It just stayed there, like the other one. I kept running down the path, hoping that these things wouldn't chase me. I saw a light up ahead.

It was coming from the parking lot. I made it. I only had a few more yards to go to make it out of the woods. I stopped suddenly on the path. Another figure was standing there right at the edge of the woods. I was breathing so hard my head was spinning. I had to rub my eyes to make sure I was really seeing it. The girl with pink flowers in her hair.

Linda? I called out. She didn't answer. She stood perfectly still, looking out towards the grass. She was just a few feet away from being out of the woods, but she stood there, right at the edge. I moved closer to her. I smelled that awful smell again, coming from her. I called her name again, but she still wouldn't answer.

She didn't move at all. She stood completely still. I walked up behind her and saw that she wasn't wearing any shoes. Her feet were black and charred, like the bonfire embers I had stomped out earlier. Linda? I said quietly. She slowly turned her head. I could see that her cheek was the same burnt texture as her feet.

and she was making a strange growling noise. I dropped my flashlight and ran as fast as I could. I ran until I reached the edge of the woods and felt the firm grass under my feet. I kept running until I was almost all the way to the parking lot. When I finally stopped, I turned around and saw Linda walking backwards on the path. Two other figures were behind her, walking her slowly through the trees.

I watched until my eyes strained to see their movements. Linda disappeared with the ghosts into the darkness of the woods. It was the last time anyone ever saw her. Her body was never found. I ended up buying my brother's car from him when I turned 17. I really wanted to go show it off at Thatcher Woods like my brother used to. But every time I drove near there, I would think of Linda and all the other people who went missing. My friends would try to convince me to go with them on the weekends.

But no matter how tempted I was, I always stayed as far away as possible from Thatcher Woods. For more information on this podcast, including how to submit your own story for consideration, please visit creepypod.com. You can also follow us at creepypod on social media and YouTube. All stories told on this podcast are done. so through Creative Commons Share-a-like licensing, or with written consent from the

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