Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S3 Ep137: Episode 138: Forest Horror Stories

Episode Date: September 8, 2023

We start tonight with ‘Humble Woods’, an original story by Boewhiskey, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/6ozlrx/humble_woods_fiction Next up is ‘Lost in Tennessee’, an original story by Ty Soprano, also kindly shared with us at Dr. Creepen’s Vault:  https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/81vsp9/fiction_lost_in_tennessee/ Tonight’s fantastic story is 'Molly, Molly' by Jaime A. Heidel, again kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all:  https://www.reddit.com/user/_itoldyouiwassick_/ Our final tale of the weird and macabre is ‘I'm a Photographer Specializing in Remote Wilderness Expeditions, I Think This is my Last Job’, an original work by Nick Moore, narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission:  https://www.reddit.com/user/nmwrites/

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please contact Connix Ontario at 1866-531-2600 to speak to an advisor free of charge. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Silvophobia, also known as fear of forests, is a relatively common fear or anxiety that some individuals may experience. And this fear can stem from various factors, including both rational and irrational concerns. Forests are often perceived as mysterious and uncharted territories where one might encounter unfamiliar plants, animals, or terrain. This can, of course, trigger anxiety, especially if a person lacks knowledge about the specific forest their entry. Then, of course, there's the dark and isolated environment.

Forests can become quite dark, especially during the night or in dense shadowy areas. This fear of darkness or isolation can be heightened in a forest setting, as one may feel cut off from civilization and unable to seek help in case of an emergency. Of course, it's important to note that not every single. Everyone experiences these fears, for many people, or so beautiful and peaceful places. Those who do experience silver phobia, they can be quite terrified. As always before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violent and horrific imagery.

That sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin. I'm still in high school and since I'm not quite 16 yet, I don't drive. It doesn't really bother me though, since the town I live in is relatively small, and everywhere I go is pretty much in walking distance. There's this gorgeous wooded area between my school and home that us locals know as humble woods. I'm honestly not sure where the name came from, but it isn't found on any maps, as it isn't really that large. It's no actual forest or anything, just about the size of a large park. with a walking path winding through the center of it.

It gets fairly thick at some sections, but during the day the sun always finds gaps to break through, and it's just one of those serene places where you can feel nature soothing. At least, this is how I remember it. I don't usually walk the wooded path up, since it takes longer to get between home and school. A couple of months or so ago, I was feeling extremely stressed though

and decided to take my time after school and walk the calm path to try and de-stress myself I hadn't walked this path in at least four or five years why would you want to go that way it takes longer than our normal way and it creeps me out hardcore you should just walk with me like usual my best friend Melissa inquired when I informed her that I will be changing things up one afternoon

We usually walked home together since we lived only a couple of houses apart. I offered for her to join me, but she insisted that she felt there was something off about the woods, so she wouldn't take part in the relaxing afternoon walk with me. I knew it was going to be weird walking by myself, but with how nervous the woods seemed to make her, I wasn't going to push the issue. The last bell rang out through the school, and I met Melissa at her locker.

We walked outside together, and when we got to the point of splitting off to our different routes for the day, she made me promise to let her know when I got home. I watched as she walked through the crosswalk, shooting me a glance over her shoulder, before reaching the sidewalk and continuing the main path to our neighbourhood. I didn't understand why the woods freaked her out so much. We used to play there all the time as kids.

As I walked over to the edge of the woods, I tried to recall if anything had happened back then that would have scared her. Humble woods was just as I remembered. The trees were tall, strong, and shaded the path just enough that it made the ground comfortably cool. The sun shone between branches and leaves, lighting the way for little animals to scurry about amongst the tree trunks, shrubs and flaps. hours. A smile spread across my face as I took a deep breath of fresh, piney air and exhale. By my guesstimation, it would take me around half an hour to get home. The more direct route took about fifteen minutes, and with the curves and winding of the wooded trail, it should take at least twice that, I thought. For the first five minutes of my walk,

I let my mind wander like the squirrels I saw scampering up tree trunks. Birds sang their songs, melodies that made me think of soft but vibrant colors dancing around. Every now and then I could see one flitter from one tree to another, and at one point I even heard the faint tapping of a woodpecker. I felt at peace at the first time all year. School had been tough this year with my advanced classes, and I'd started a part-time job at a local market.

This momentary break from all that was exactly what I needed. The gentle sunlight peeking through the treetops washed over me and bathed me in warm serenity. Little did I know. It wouldn't last very long. After those blissful first five minutes or so, I came upon a slightly sparse area to my right. It looked as if there was a tiny clearing just past a handful of trees. I couldn't remember seeing this before, but it had also been quite a while since I was here. Despite the

sun shining brightly above me and to the left of the pathway, the clearing looked rather dark, like the light couldn't penetrate the tops of the trees that surrounded it. That's odd. It should be lighter here, I thought. What could keep the sunlight out that much? I slowed my pace as I neared the tree closest to the path, stopping next to it. I couldn't see very far into the clearing, even when I leaned forward, one hand against the bark of the tree. As I stepped one foot off the worn trail, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It startled me slightly, and using my hand, on the tree to push slightly, I pulled my foot back and reached for my phone with my other hand. As the hand holding onto the tree let go and brushed slightly against the bark,

I felt a stinging sensation and let out an involuntary, Ow! It was almost the same feeling you get when you slide a piece of paper across your skin and just know you have a paper cut before you even see it. With my phone in my left hand, I brought my right hand to my face. Sure enough, there was a slender cut on my palm, spanning from the base of my middle finger to the base of my pinky. It was a little larger than a paper cut, but still thin enough that I could see blood just barely pushing up to meet the air. I pressed the wound against my pants at thigh level and unlocked the screen of my phone. It was a text from Melissa.

Walking home alone is boring. Mom's working late. Can I come over when you get home? I glanced back to the tree where I'd cut myself, but didn't immediately see anything very sharp. Rushing it off, I began typing as I turned back to continue my walk home. Yeah, are you going to eat dinner with us? Melissa responded quickly.

No, probably not. Mom should be home by then, I think. All right, I'll let you know when I get home, I typed, and hit send quickly before locking my screen, before locking my screen and sliding my phone back in the front pocket of my hoodie. As I continued down the dirt path, I inspected my hand closer. It stung, but it didn't seem like there was anything stuck in it, so I resolved to just wash it when I got home and be done with it. After another few minutes, I'd started to feel uneasy for some reason. It took me a moment, but I finally realized that I could no longer hear anything. No birds were chirping. No animals were scuttling around.

No breeze were shifting the leaves. There was nothing. I knew that I hadn't lost my hearing, though, because I could still hear the sound of my feet on the ground. with each step that I made. I tried to think of theories as to why this would happen, but none truly fit. Even when there's a storm coming, and animals take shelter before it comes down,

there are still some noises to be heard. It was eerie and made me feel vulnerable and alone. I quickened my pace. It had only been a little over ten minutes since I began my short trek through the woods, and I still had a bit of ground to cover. I tried desperately to assure myself that this wasn't weird, but the silence wouldn't allow for that.

It was then that I finally realized I was the only person around, possibly the only person in the woods at all. That didn't make sense. Kids should be running and playing and enjoying the trees and natural hiding places. As a kid, I myself played in these woods, usually closer to the other side, nearer to my house. They'd always been relaxing and calm, but even still, you could guarantee that you would see at least a couple of kids running among the brush, and laughing with one another at least once whenever you entered the woods. Had I seen kids or anyone going in or coming out of the forest recently?

I couldn't remember now. Another ten minutes passed in mind-twisting quiet. I had to be getting close to the edge of the woods, definitely over half-way at least. From a fair distance, I heard a rustling noise. It was very faint, but after having no noise for so long, it made me jump. I looked around, turning to my.

to walk backwards for a moment so I could see behind me, but I saw nothing. I couldn't be sure yet which direction the sound had come from, so I strained my ears in an attempt to hear it again. I turned to face forward once more and heard it. Still hard to hear and off in the distance. It sounded like it was coming from ahead of me and off to the left. It's just an animal. You're finally getting out of the creepy quiet part of the woods, I thought to myself. As much as I hoped this was really the case, I couldn't deny the chill that began to edge up my spine. There were still no other sounds, and I didn't hear the rustling again. I walked briskly for another two minutes and then came

upon something that jolted memories to the front of my mind. There was a treehouse just off the path on the left. I'd totally forgotten about the tree house. Melissa and I used to play in it all the time. We'd hide out when her brother was picking on her, which meant we were in there quite a bit. It looks smaller now, but when you're a kid, things tend to look bigger. Without thinking about it, I left the path and walked to stand below the entrance of the wooden structure. The The wooden planks nailed to the tree like rungs on a ladder leading up into the branches looked rotted and some of them were missing chunks out of them. I looked up at the old wooden hideout, walking in a circle around the tree and saw that it matched the decay of the steps. A few boards

looked like they hung loosely and would fall off with any strong gust of wind. There were three small windows that were warped and misshapen from years of weather and sections of the treehouse were slumping down. I remembered that they never had glass in them, and even though as a kid, I thought it would be perfect if they were like real windows in houses, but now I was glad because surely the glass would have shattered in at least one of them and lit at the ground. I saw a few holes here and there from rot and possibly insects. It was in territory. terrible shape. Along with the decay, I saw some deep gashes in the wood littering the surfaces around the window holes and bottom of the treehouse. They were in sets of four and made me think

of an animal trying to claw its way up the wood and into the shelter. Maybe a frantic animal made them, trying to get out of a storm or something, I thought to myself, brushing off the odd tingle in my spine that the sight caused. Standing back at the entrance, I felt a wave of nostalgia as I gazed up into the hole that served as a doorway into the floor of the house. Tears started gathering in my eyes from nowhere, and I wasn't sure why seeing this old plaything was so heartbreaking. Those thoughts quickly vanished, however,

as soon as I saw what was in the tree house. It hadn't really been focusing on anything while I looked into the darkened room. from beneath it. But an ever so slight movement and noise made me realize that, as I was looking up, something was shifting silently around the hole. I couldn't really see it, but I knew something was there.

I pretended not to notice and made my way back to the path, pulling out my phone and calling Melissa. Mel, remember that treehouse we used to play in when we were little? I asked once she answered the phone. That old one in the woods without glass in the windows. Her tone resonated with remembrance, albeit a confused remembrance. Yeah, that one.

I paused before I continued, silently gathering my courage to put what I felt and saw into words. It's pretty much falling apart, and there are these weird scratches and stuff on it. What do you mean, scratches? Melissa's tone seemed to jump from calm to nervously curious. I don't know. They're just scratches around the windows and bottom.

I'm sure it's no big deal, but I think whatever animal made them might have started living in the tree house. What kind of animal was it? I can't say. I saw something moving around up in there, but couldn't see what it was or anything. I'm sure it's just my nerves in the unusual route, but I'm a little creeped out, to be honest. I admitted my real reason for calling her. Get out of those woods as soon as you can.

Run if you have to. Just get out of them. I'll meet you at the exit. She answered quickly, not even trying to hide the worry and fear in her voice. Why? I didn't think we had it. I was cut off by the tone, signaling the call being ended. I looked at the screen as her name disappeared. I was confused.

I couldn't remember ever hearing about any predators or even any animals bigger than rabbits in these woods. What could have caused those scratches, though? With Melissa's reaction, I wasn't able to convince myself to stay calm. I was freaked out and couldn't try. to explain it away. The chill that had nestled itself lightly in my spine now ignited, and I felt an icy flood run the length of my spine and shove the feeling of being watched into my head with it. I looked around quickly, still not seeing anything. I quickened my pace once again,

but the being watched sensation didn't dissipate. Off in the distance behind me, there was a soft thud. I began to jog, not bothering and not wanting to look back, at least not yet. I strained my ears as I followed the trail, attempting to hear if anything was following. At first, the only thing that resonated in my ears was my own heart beating and breath becoming heavier and heavier from the sudden physical exertion and the fear that grived my chest tightly in its icy, grasp. Soon enough though, I began to hear noises from behind me. It sounded like feet hitting the ground and pushing off again. Leaves were trampled up, branches snapped. Even with all of this, it was still quieter than I would imagine someone chasing me would be. I broke into a sprint,

beginning to pant heavily. I was beyond out of shape, but the fear of Whatever or whoever was following me overruled my body's protests to continue harder. I focused on the path in front of me, wanting desperately to get to the end of the trees. I didn't look behind me until I felt my backpack snag on something. Slowing down quickly, I turned slightly to see what it was caught on, and I nearly collapsed at the sight. thinking it was an errant branch that had caught me off guard, I wasn't expecting to see the monstrosity that met my eyes.

My heart had been pounding so loudly in my skull, and this thing was so silent that I had no idea it had even caught up with me. I was face to face with my pursuer. It was gaunt with sickly grey skin that sagged in areas of its body. Where the eye should have been, there were two deep sunken holes into the skull, each with their own beady black eyeball that stared hungrily at me. It stood on two legs, with one bony arm hanging loosely, almost touching the ground. and the other reached out to me with clawed fingers, puncturing and gripping my back.

Instead of a nose, there were two holes where nostrils might have been at one time. It was mostly born with matted, thin, black hair, clinging to its skull in spots and hanging down in stringy strands to its shoulders. Every bone on its body seemed to be accentuated by a maceous. and it appeared that some bones were close to completely piercing through the skin in a twisted grotesque way it looked like it could have once resembled a human long long ago it snarled at me and I could see the thin lips stretch back unnatural to reveal sharp jagged and broken teeth unlike anything huge They were more like the teeth of an animal, a carnival, and I knew instantly without having to think about it what those teeth were meant for, and used to rip flesh and muscle from bone and body. I took all of this in fast in just a split second, and felt a primal terror well up in me, threatening to choke me and make my lungs explode.

I couldn't fight the feeling that it recognized. and hated me. Moving rapidly, knowing I had no time to lose, I slipped my right arm out of one strap of my backpack. As I went to toss the bag off my other shoulder, the creature's arm that had previously been hanging down came up in a blur of motion to grab my shoulder. I felt those blackened and dirty claws knife their way into my flesh.

I swear I heard that thing chuckle when I let out an involuntary cry of agony using my opposite hand I pushed the strap of my bag off of my shoulder and onto the arm of that thing

momentarily a little thankfully grabbed me above the strap the sudden weight made it release its hold on me and I took off as fast as I could while it dropped my backpack onto the ground from its wrist The skin on my shoulder felt warm From the blood seeping out

And soaking my shirt and sweatshirt I wasn't sure how bad the damage would be But I felt the deep pain All the way into my bone My arm was quickly going numb And I couldn't move it I reached my right hand through the front pocket of my hoodie Trying not to drop my phone at the same time

and grab my left wrist, pulling it through. It was no sling, but it would keep my arm steady for now, and out of the way. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the thing resume chase. If it was possible, it seemed angrier, snarling at me when it saw my face turn to look at it. It was following me now on all falls. no longer trying to be quiet. I push my feet to move faster,

my body to hold out a little longer. With each pounding of my foot against the ground, memories from when I was nine pounded my head in flashes. Melissa laughing as I chased her between the trees, me hiding around a large tree waiting for her to find me. The two of us sitting in the treehouse. The odd noise, like a cooing in a whimper at the same time. Us looking out of each window and seeing nothing.

Me following Melissa down the steps, the noise sounding again. Melissa running off excitedly to follow it. Me yelling for her to wait up. Jogging through the trees, trying to find her. Calling her name. Melissa's shrill scream piercing the air and assaulting my ears. Me running in the direction her scream had resonated from, almost physically running into her.

Melissa's dirt smeared and tear-stricken face, and she sobbed the sheer terror I saw saw in her eyes. Her standing there, glancing behind her while she held one of her. her shoes in her hand. Her grabbing my arm and pulling me back to the path as she told me we had to get out of the woods. The sound the pursuer made that let us know it was gaining on us. Both of us breaking out in the fastest speed I have ever run in my life. The strange, slow-motion moment when I turned around because she'd stumbled. the way she yelled at me to run faster, to go, to keep running.

The way I heard heavy thuds against the ground as the monster came into sight. The grotesque way it salivated and ran on all fours in a gate that seemed too fast for the way its arms and legs bent. The claws, digging in and spitting up dirt as they saw. scraped into the earth and then back out. The air burning in my lungs as I screamed Melissa's name. The way she turned her head, saw it, then turned back to me, and yelled at me for the last time to run. I remembered the blood I saw, mixed with dirt, and caked on her arm,

in three long gashes, running from her shoulder. to her Elmo. I remembered hearing my steps pounding in my head along with my heart. I remembered hearing her steps not far behind me and the creature's steps still gaining on us. I remembered seeing the edge of the trees come into view and thinking that we just had to get out of the woods and things will be okay. I remembered thinking that we We had almost made it. In my mind, I saw myself as a child lunging my body into the bright sun out of the oppression of the trees.

I turned round to look at Melissa when I was about ten feet out of the trees. I saw the monster right behind her, using his back legs to pounce at her. Claws sunk into the flesh of her shoulders and she screamed again. I remembered the ringing in my ears caused from the combination of her scream and my own as I screamed her name desperately. I saw the monster grip tight enough to make blood spurt out of a tiny bit from around the claws it had deep in her. I remembered how I had made a move to run back in after my best friend, but was stopped suddenly by two strong arms grabbing my waist. I remembered my father holding me tight As I fought to go save the girl I was supposed to keep growing up with

I remembered seeing her father Clutching a shotgun as he ran at full speed into the shaded woods And after his daughter I remembered the way I felt my body give out As I sobbed uncontrollably when my mum appeared taking me from my father and the way I couldn't feel the ground slam into my knees

as I collapsed flashes kept coming of my mum kneeling next to me then sitting completely on the ground she cradled me in her lap her arms wrapped around me tight as I screamed and cried my father had run back into the house

to grab his own gun and he sped past us to join Melissa's father in the woods. With my vision blurred by these flashes and hot tears stinging my eyes, I pushed my feet hard into the dirt, running faster than I had in all those years. In the distance, I saw sunlight growing brighter and knew I was almost there.

I could hear the monster right behind me. I thought I could feel its hot brink, invading the space behind my neck. I kept running. The moment I saw the edge of the trees, I knew I would be safe. I felt a tug on the hood of my sweatshirt. I faltered for just a second as I realized the thing had grabbed at me again. I would discover later that it ripped through the fabric of my hoodie, leaving the hood hanging in several pieces. I knew I couldn't stop though. Even though I felt a crippling, choking sensation from the front of my sweatshirt slamming into my throat, I kept running. As I pushed through the final trees and into the open, I felt as if I just pushed through an invisible barrier separating safety from horror.

I didn't stop running until I was at least 15 feet away and hadn't heard the steps behind me. I slowed and turned around. Catching what I hope will be the last glimpse of the creature that I will ever see. Its face was contorted in that hideous snarl, peeking out from behind a tree. One hand with those sharpened hooks held the bark of the tree it was behind. I'm not sure how long we stood there, staring at each other. For some reason, it couldn't come. come out into the open, and I was relieved. I was safe. I was panting heavily as those dark

eyes bore into me, wishing they could be seeing my insides. I heard a noise from behind me and whipped my head around to see Melissa standing there. I turned to face her, stealing a final look back over my shoulder to where the beast had stood. It was no longer there. Having retreated into the trees once again, when I looked at her again, her sixteen-year-old self had changed into a vision of her when she was nine. The day she was taken. Her expression was one of heart-wrenching sadness. I felt the tears begin to stream down my face uncontrollably as I dropped to my knees.

I wanted to talk, to say her name, to say I was sorry for living my life as if she hadn't gone. I couldn't manage any words, though, but it seemed like none were needed. Melissa smiled sadly at me and walked to where I was kneeling. She kneeled down in front of me and touched my cheek lightly with her fingertips. I felt a slight tingle where they touched, but couldn't feel the touch as if she had been really flesh and blood. She took my right hand in her left and held it, palm up. I saw now that her right hand was clenched around something.

She gently placed something smooth and cool in my palm and used her own to wrap my fingers around it. She stood, still smiling sorrowfully. and kissed my forehead. Without any words spoken out loud, I felt her whisper into my mind, but she was glad I made it out of those woods, those years ago, and now.

With that, she turned and started walking away. I saw the image of her father standing patiently in the direction of their house. She walked calmly up to him as he beamed with happiness. He picked her up in his arms and they both looked at me with smiles that I would never see again in my life. The thought of this made the tears flow harder for a moment. I watched as they turned around and began losing their solidity with each step.

They faded into nothing and I was left there, hurting both physically and in my heart. I bent my head to the ground and let myself cry. until I heard footsteps approaching me. I looked up to see my father. His face showed a parent's worry, but his eyes looked upon me softly. He held his hand out to help me up. I walked through the woods.

I spoke in a broken voice before he could ask anything. He swept me into his arms in a tight hug. I went slightly at the pressure the hug put on. my torn up shoulder, but the pain was worth it to feel safe. Are you okay? Is all he asked as he released me. His worried expression took on a note of horror when he saw the blood transferred onto him from my shoulder.

I looked up at him and held my clenched hand out in front of me. His gaze fell upon my hand as I unfurled my fingers to reveal to both of us a small, half heart pendant on a silver chain. It had a cursive M engraved on it. I looked back up at him, new tears pushing their way to the surface, and he only looked at me, a sad smile of his own forming on his face.

He took the necklace from my hand and reached it around my neck, clasping it in place. It fell at the same length, of my own half-heart necklace, and I touched the now complete heart with the initials M and J. Let's go home, Jennifer. We need to take a look at that shoulder, and you need to rest. And with that, I let him lead me home, holding my hand in his as we had done so long ago when I was still a little girl. In the couple of months since this happened, I've struggled with trying to understand

it all, especially how she was alive for me for almost seven years. My parents explained to me that after our fathers went in after her, Melissa's father found her body being ripped apart by that thing. He'd shot at it, and it ran off. He had run over to his daughter, dropping his gun at some point and when my father found them he was covered in her blood as he cradled her dead body and soft before my father could reach him he was knocked down hitting his head on a large route and he was out cold for a few hours when he came to the body of melissa was gone along with her father the only sign of them was a smeared trail of blood where the monster had dragged them the ground. My father had followed the trail as far as he could until it disappeared.

Then he had to return home. He said he knew from the amount of blood there was on the ground around the area and on the trail. There was no way Melissa's father could still be alive. No one ever saw him again. Melissa's mom went to a mental institution after having a severe breakdown and I was catatonic for a week after the incident. I still don't remember that section of time, but apparently I wouldn't talk. I would barely eat. I would have nightmares every night and wouldn't get any rest. Finally, after talking to a doctor, my parents slipped me a sedative so I would sleep. I slept the majority of two days. And when I woke up, I had forgotten the entire ordeal.

I pretended Melissa was still alive. I pretended to play with her. I talked about her and acted like she was still around. My parents didn't want to break my heart all over again. So they let me have my imaginary Melissa, hoping one day I would grow out of it. When I didn't, for years, they started wondering how to handle it.

and had been discussing what to do about it when I decided to take my walk in the woods. Even still, I don't know for sure what the Melissa I grew up with was. Or she made up by my mind to help me cope with what had happened. Was she a ghost, sticking around because she couldn't let go, or because I couldn't let go? Either way, how is it that she gave me her necklace? She had been wearing it that day, and the bodies of both her and her father still had never been found. Down here in the south, riding horses is still a fairly popular hobby amongst many folks.

There are many different types of riding, but I've always been keen to trail ride myself. Trail riding is just what it says it is, riding your horse through trails in the woods, mountains, hills and hills. hollers. As anyone from around here, Tennessee would tell you, it gets hotter than the devil's nut sack, especially during the summer months. That is to say, when the summertime, trail riding takes place at night. Often we wait until early fall to begin riding, because the weather makes it easier, but during the summer we ride at night. These rides are always a time and a half. It's usually just a small group of us that gets together. We all gather at the edge of the woods, find the trailhead,

and from there we set out together for a long night of trail riding through some of the South's last uncivilised land. This particular story, and ride, took place in Urgly August three years back. My father and I met up with our friends J.R. and H. around APM. at a place known to the locals as Gilly Hill. It has this name because the trailhead is behind the Gilly Hill Church of Christ in Cemetery. Yeah, I know it sounds bad already, but this has been the only trailhead to this ride for as long as I can remember, and it's never caused any sort of problems.

So, like I said, we set off for a long night of horse riding, and for everyone but me a long night of drinking. I'll note. I never drank when we rode, because I wasn't of age, and I was our designated driver. I'm aware this all may sound very dangerous or even strange, but I assure you it's not, at least not to us. Gilly Hill is full of world-traveled trails during the winter, but during the summer people don't ride as much, and the trails grow up, making it easy to get lost, or at least turned around. Horses are smarter than most folk give them credit for though.

They have a tremendous sense of direction and can see well at night. The only problem with horses being able to see at night is that in order for them to maintain their vision, it needs to remain dark. This leaves you without anything to improve your own vision while you ride a thousand-pound animal in the dark through the middle of a wooded nowhere. The only exception to this is one may use a dim light with a red bulb and red lens. For whatever reason, which I'm sure someone here can explain, these lights won't make your horse night blind, as we call it.

Aside from that, the only light we have comes from the glow sticks everyone ties to the front and back of their saddles, so we can keep up with each other easily. Anyway, back to that August night. hours came and went with nothing out of the ordinary happening as we rode and covered a lot of ground constantly putting more distance between us and our horse trailers I guess it was around midnight when I made the comment that I was hungry and had brought food to cook

implying I wanted to stop for more than just a few minutes to build a fire and eat unsurprisingly I was not the only hungry one because we immediately stopped and within a few minutes had a fire roaring and hot dogs roasting. When we would stop for any period of time, we would always tie our horses to trees in a circle and gather in the middle to do our thing.

This was done especially at night for more than one reason. First, because it allowed everyone to relax a little, as we could all keep an eye on the horses together and made sure they didn't run off. This had happened before, and it's nearly impossible to catch a wild horse in the woods at night. The second reason is, because horses are very alert animals that have superb hearing. By having them form a circle around us, it served as a natural alarm to any unwanted visitors,

human or not. After all, we were in the middle of nowhere in the woods at night. The horses formed a circle, and inside the circle we all sat by our fire, eating, drinking, and carrying on. I suddenly had the urge to piss So I stood up and walked out a few yards To the other side of my horse to go It was there and then That I noticed a dim light About 50 or 60 yards away give or take

This wasn't completely strange But it triggered my nerves to say the least If someone was out here with a flashlight or a headlamp That meant they were on foot And who would be out this far this late walking through the woods. I finished my business and just stood there for a few seconds, staring at the light. I slowly began to realize it was moving towards us a little at a time.

Still, something wasn't right about it. The light was just moving closer and closer in a smooth, straight line. If it was a person with a flashlight, the light would be moving and shaking as they were walking through the woods. Brad! The voice hacked through the thick summer air from behind me, and I about jumped out of my boots as I turned around to see my dad walking up beside me. What are you doing?

You still pissing? It's been ten minutes. He asked me in a semi-slur through a chuckle. I could tell the peach brandy was doing work on him. No, Dad. Well, I mean, yes, I was finished, but I noticed that light over there. "'Who the hell you reckon that is out here this late?' I replied. He squinted and peered out towards where the light was.

He was quiet for a minute before speaking again. "'Hah, that's weird. Has it moved at all?' I explained to him it had moved, but that it didn't seem right. He was just getting closer, but he didn't look like someone walking. He just shrugged it off and suggested we put the fire out and get moving just in case the light is a landowner that had changed their mind about letting us ride out here. The land was owned by the church, but they sometimes rented it for people to farm a couple of fields that sat on top of the hollers, and these people often weren't fans of horse riders. So, we actively avoided them, which was easy on hundreds of acres. An hour or so later we decided to stop again for the drinkers to relieve themselves of the beer and liquor they've been drinking since we began the ride.

This time I stayed on my horse, as I didn't need to go, and I didn't want to tie him up just to untie him in a couple of minutes. I was sitting there, taking in the cool breeze that had finally decided to show up, when my horse, Zeb, became agitated. Zep started breathing heavily and shifting his weight back and forth from side to side. A clear sign he was uneasy about something. I was unsuccessfully attempting to calm him down, when out of nowhere my dad's horse bolted. He went from standing still to a wide open run. My dad, who had just finished peeing,

was holding onto the reins in one hand and zipping his pants with the other. The sudden jerk had knocked. him on his ass. In that split second, I had a choice to make. Let the horse go and face the likelihood we'd not only lost a $3,000 animal, but that being the youngest, I would have to let my dad ride my horse while I walked back beside him. I contemplated momentarily and then made what was, probably, the worst decision of my life. Zeb was moving so fast. my eyes were watering. Still, I tried to keep my focus on the glow stick that was swinging back and forth on the back of the saddle as his horse barreled through the woods. It didn't go

unnoticed that my dad's horse was running back in the same direction where I'd noticed the light earlier. But I tried to put that thought away, as for the moment I needed to catch him. I should have just let it go, and gone back to my dad and our two trail buddies. We could have gone back to the trailer and waited until daylight to look for the horse, but I was young and proud. I could catch it, or so I thought. By now I'd lost track of the distance Zeb and I had put between us and the others. My only focus was that bouncing glowstick. I was gaining ground on the wild horse, just a little closer, and I could get a hold of him and bring him back. And then the glowstick vanished. I pulled back on the reins and shouted, Whoa! Zeb came to a stop so fast I thought

I was going to fly over his ears. Where had the glowstick gone? If it had fallen off, I would have seen it, or at least see it now. I was so close to where it disappeared from the best I could guess, yet nothing. I decided to get off my horse, tie him to a tree, and look for the glow-stick on the ground. After a few minutes of kicking leaves around, I couldn't find anything. I walked over to Zeb and pulled my flashlight out and scanned the area around me, accomplishing nothing, except for giving up my position, as I would later discover. The horse had just vanished. How could it? I was standing there rationalising what had happened when I noticed the light, it was back and was about 50 yards away.

This time it was moving towards me a little quicker than before, but still in the same smooth manner. I was beginning to be afraid now. I went back to my saddlebags, pulled out my camping hatchet, attached it to my belt, and grabbed my cell phone. Nine times out of ten, we have no cell service at all, but it was. was worth trying. To my surprise, I had one bar. All right, I thought. I'll call my dad and ask him if his horse had shown up, and then tell him to blink his flashlight in my direction, so I could find my way back to the group. The phone only rang once when he answered. Hello, Brad? What the hell are you doing? I'm just down the trail some, dad. I can't find your horse.

We'll have to look for him tomorrow, I said. What? he replied, and I noticed he sounded confused but unsure what to say. Must be the drinking, I thought. So, I tried to speak slower and clearer this time. I didn't catch your horse, Dad. We will try again tomorrow. Dad didn't respond for a few minutes before finally saying, Brad, you are worrying me.

What are you talking about, catching me? my horse. I'm standing right beside him. Why did you take off like that? Come back now. This isn't funny. Just come back now. Come back now. Come back. Back now. My blood ran cold. I just ran off. What was he talking about? I was chasing his horse. Uh, dad. I was chasing after him. He ran off and I lost his trail. What do you mean you're standing beside him? Did he circle back?

I asked hesitantly. My dad was now basically shouting into the phone at me. No, I told you to cut it out. Come back now. Come back. And with that my phone beeped, and I looked down at the screen and read. Call dropped.

No service. Of course. I was frozen in my tracks. I know I saw his horse run off. I'm not crazy. Hell, I chased it for ten minutes. I took a few minutes to get myself together before getting back on Zeb.

I noticed the light I'd kept seeing hadn't moved any closer. I turned my horse to head back in the direction of my dad when I saw a light come on from where they all must have been waiting. as I started back in that direction the light ahead of me started blinking I was finally calming down

and feeling relieved when I remembered I never told my dad to flash his light at me on the phone I stopped Zeb and turned back towards the other light it was now moving towards me and blinking as well what in the hell was happening I was officially terrified When my phone vibrated, I put it out and looked down at the screen.

It was a text from a number I didn't recognize. I opened the text and read. Brad, it's Dad. My phone's in the truck. Horse came back. Where are you? Sweat dripped from my forehead, and my hand shook as I read the message again. Brad, it's Dad.

My phone's in the truck. Horse came back. Where are you? I felt like an idiot. I knew my father never brought his cell phone when we rode. He always stuck his phone and wallet under the floor mat for safekeeping, as well as to protect them from being lost. So, who had I talked to?

The person asked me why I ran off and why I was trying to catch their horse. clearly they had some idea about what was going on. Hell, maybe they'd been watching us. Whatever the case was, I didn't like it. The land we rode on was owned by the church. I knew that much, but I didn't have a clue about the surrounding property. The Gilly Hill Church of Christ is fairly isolated, so it was safe to assume that the land surrounding it was as well.

We're talking about hundreds of acres, that are nothing but wooded mountains and hills. It isn't like this was farmland that was being worked and watched on a regular basis. We very rarely encountered any other people. The only issue we ever ran into was disgruntled hunters, who were trying to hunt illegally on the church's property. Multiple horses and drunken riders do a pretty good job at scaring off any deer that might be in the area. I did my best to calm myself down a bit.

I needed to take care of business and backtracked to where I'd left my dad and the others. It could have been fear, or just a little paranoia, but I took the glowsticks off my horse and stuck them in my saddle's bags. If someone was following me, I wasn't going to help them. Plus, they were only there for the other riders to be able to see me, and I was alone now. The lights I mentioned seeing earlier were still blinking

and coming from both directions, ahead and behind me. I was still fairly sure which one was coming from where I estimated my dad to be. So, that's the one I used as my North Star, so to speak. Sure, it seems easy to know which way I'd come from. But these woods ain't your run-of-the-mill dark. They, so dark you can't see past your horse's ears when you're in the saddle. The only saving grace is the occasional opening in the trees. where the moon can shine through and illuminate the surrounding area.

It seemed like Zeb was tiptoeing as we slowly headed towards the blinking light. Old Zeb was always light-hoofed when he sensed something was off, or at the very least when he could tell I was uneasy. Horses are strange like that, keen to their surroundings, and Zeb was one of the best horses I'd ever owned. He was well-mannered, calm, and when you needed him to hit another gear, boy could he fly. Zem and I had made it a few hundred yards closer to the light,

when it simply disappeared. Still hopeful it was my dad, or one of the others, holding the flashlight we kept travelling in that direction. We'd almost made it to the edge of the clearing, where we'd stopped earlier when my dad's horse had taken off. And that's when I started faintly smelling something sick. similar to mothballs. As we got closer to the clearing, the smell got stronger.

I pulled the reins back and quietly instructed Zeb to stop with a whoa now. We instantly came to a complete stop. Now, just outside of where the moonlight started at the edge of the opening. I noticed there were two large dark piles of mounds or masses of something just on the other side of the clearing. back in the woods a bit, but they were too far out of the light for me to figure out what they were. I sat on the back of my horse in complete silence,

trying to make out what I was seeing. I heard a branch from above break, and something made a loud thud on the ground, mere feet in front of us. It stood just in the light from the moon, making it barely visible. It was eye-level with me, the back of my horse and was as lean as a telephone pole. Its large eyes glowed with a solid, soft,

white light that flickered as we stood frozen, gazing upon each other. The eyes reminded me of movie projectors, the way they cast dim light out ahead of its body. The creature slowly lifted both of its long arms out either side, as it stood in front of us, unmoved. It held something round in its right hand, but I couldn't make out what it was. Zeb, following a brief pause, stood straight up on his back legs and threw me off so fast I didn't have time to react. I landed on my back, slamming my head into the ground, and a sharp pain shot down my spine. In a panic I tried to get to my feet, but dizziness took over, throwing me down to my knee. everything was spinning, including Zeb, who brought his front hooves down as he spun on a dime,

and like that, he was gone, with my cell phone, flashlight and other supplies in his saddlebags. Pure panic and adrenaline filled my body. I was scrambling on my hands and knees, occasionally making it to my feet only to take a few steps and trip or fall down again in pain. I had a loud thud and zeb-nay from behind me. I didn't know where I was going, except that it was away from whatever the hell that thing was. I kept putting as much ground as possible between me and the creature as fast as I could. I couldn't turn to look behind me without tripping over something in the dark, but I heard a voice,

my father's voice it was slurred and sounded like he was drowning it began repeating Brad you are worrying me catch my horse catch my horse

it took nearly all of my strength but I made it to the other side of the clearing and bound into the woods finding a small tree to hold myself up with the thing's voice kept ringing out catch my horse catch my horse

it sounded like he was gargling water as he said it over and over I had a death grip on the tree I was afraid it would hit the ground again if I let go I turned to look behind me and what I saw turned my stomach upside down the wide-eyed monster had somehow caught my poor horse

how could it have moved so fast or being that strong. Just in view of the moonlight at the edge of the clearing on the other side. I could see the back of the thing, as he stood, holding one of Zeb's legs in his hand, down by his side and slightly offset in front of him I could see Zeb dragging his body by the front legs in a desperate panic and an attempt to get away.

It was useless. With a speed that was incomprehensible, the creature ran its sickle like claw down Zeb's chin, stopping at the stomach, allowing his insights to spill out. Muscle spasms were all that was left of poor Zeb, as the monster dropped its head to the ground with a sickening slurp, devoured his intestines. Between the pain and what I'd just seen happen to Zeb,

I spilled the contents of my stomach on the ground in front of me. I had to move. I had to get away from here. I turned back in the other direction to head deeper into the woods. Fear was pushing me harder and faster than I thought I could move, considering the pain I was experiencing. Eventually, I had to stop for a moment to gather myself. I fell to my knees. My body didn't give me a choice.

It felt somehow safer now that I put some distance in between me and the clearing that the monster occupied. That's when I noticed. I was just feet away from the two mounds I'd noticed before the horse threw me. My heart instantly filled with dread. I knew then that nothing good was going to occur in those woods that night. As quietly as I could, I inched slowly towards the large, lifeless objects. Before long I stood looming over one of them.

It was J.R. and his horse, minus both of their heads. The horse's neck and all of J.R. looked like they'd been gnawed on by a horse-sized dog. They stumbled backwards in terror, afraid to approach the other mound. But I had to know if it was my dad. I'm ashamed to admit the relief I felt when I looked upon the mangled body of H's horse.

I spun around and quickly scanned the rest of the area, and there was no sight of my father nor H. Thank God. I bent over, placing my hands on my knees, drawing deep breaths from the humid Tennessee air as my head spun. A million thoughts were racing through my mind. Where were they? Had they escaped? How far could they make it? How far could I make it?

What the hell was that? My moment of solitary was soon shattered, when a loud, drowning version of my father's voice broke the silence from behind. Come back now, Brad. This isn't funny. I pushed through the rest of the night. One step in front of the next, as my father's voice echoed through the hollows. It had long become clear that my back was injured from the fall. Every step I took was a painstaking reminder.

The severity of my injuries was a mystery, but the loss of feeling in my left hand wasn't. As the sun rose, there was still no sign of my dad, or H, nor the horrendous creature that had attacked us. Heat came from above and plagued my speed. My best guess it was somewhere around one in the afternoon, and nearing 100 degrees. My location, on the other hand, I couldn't eat. even have begun to calculate. When I ran from the creature the night before, I had no idea in which direction I'd gone. At the time, I only focused on staying on the tops of the ridges. That way, if I was ambushed, I could try my luck with a plunge off the side of a cliff,

instead of having my head removed from my body. That may sound terrible, but you didn't see how easy it was for that monster to remove my horse's back legs. One thing was clear. I needed to make a decision. Should I keep moving and hope to find help? Maybe run into my father with a little luck. Or would I find someplace to hold up for the night? If I kept on walking, trying to find help and didn't, that would likely be my end. I wouldn't stand a chance another night out in the open and on the move. Hell, I wouldn't have made it through the previous night if they hadn't had two horses and jay. are to keep them preoccupied, as sad as that is to say.

It was safe to assume that the white eyes of the monster I'd encountered were responsible for the blinking lights I'd followed. That meant there were at least two of those things out here for sure. There was no possible way to tell how many more lurked just out of sight as I limped along. Worst of all, they were smart. They'd lured me away from the group by spooking Dad's horse, I assumed. They were able to break into his truck and call me from his stolen cell phone, not to mention strong enough to kill a grown man and two horses.

That settled it. I would find somewhere to hide. Get some rest, and as soon as day broke, haul ass. With a little luck I could find one of the creeks or rivers that coursed through these hills. The water would not only wet my whistle, but I knew there had to be a handful of old hunting shacks built on the water that had long been forgotten. I knew a dilapidated wooden lean to wouldn't do much in the way of actually protecting me, but one just feels safer inside four walls. Plus, anything was better than spending another night on the move. I didn't think I could manage that.

There hadn't been any sign of the creature since right before the sun came up. I was hoping that wasn't a coincidence. Maybe the creature was a nocturnal predator, or maybe it was just stalking me, waiting for last night's feast to wear off before attacking. It could go either way. Regardless, I couldn't get the thing off my mind, but wouldn't be able to for a long time.

It was the most awful thing I had ever seen. It seemed like I would never shake the smell of mothballs. It doesn't start getting dark in Tennessee during the summer until around seven in the afternoon. This left me with a few hours before night started to set in. My first goal was to find a creek or river and then locate a low-limbed tree, climb up as high as my injured body would carry me and rest. Once rested I would climb down, follow the creek in either direction, and hope to God I could find somewhere to hide.

Now, there are a few ways you can. go about finding bodies of water in the wilderness. If it's around sunrise or sunset, you can look to the skies. Birds usually visit their water source around these times. That method wouldn't help me now, though. Another trick is to find well-travelled animal paths. Animals in the wild don't usually roam at will. Find a trail they frequented enough to leave tracks behind, and it's likely it'll lead you to water at some point. Aside from those, Those two methods, you can read the landscape if you know what to look for. This was how I planned to do it.

I looked for rock structures that pointed to open-mouth caves, which you're responsible for a lot of the creeks around here. Finding water at the source is ideal, because you don't have to worry about a dead animal or anything else, contaminating it upstream. After a couple of hours, I found what I was looking for. A fast-moving stream that started at the mouth of a small cluster of boulders. I fell to my knees on one of the rocks that made up the stream's bank and dipped my entire head in the water.

It was cold, and nothing had ever felt any better. I could feel the previous night washing off of me. I drank my fill of water. Then I flipped over flat stones until I had a few crawdads by the tails. I split them in half and sucked their innards out. It wasn't ideal, but a fire was out of the question. I didn't have the time. Once I'd taken care of myself,

I decided to climb to the top of one of the larger boulders and rest there. Once I painstakingly reached the top of the enormous boulder, I took my boots off, spread eagle, and soaked in the sun. The cold water that clung to my hair, mixed with a warm sun, was all I could take. I was violently yanked from a deep sleep by a skin-crawling scream that seemed to be coming from a few hollows over.

It was almost dark now. Oh, what had I done? I'd only intended to rest for a few hours, tops. I had to have been out for at least four. I knew I couldn't waste any time as I laced my boots up. The screaming continued. I couldn't tell how far away it was.

It sounded like a woman, but it sounded like the source was gurgling water as they screamed. There was no telling how many voices these creatures had taken. With my boots laced, I slid down the side of the boulder and landed on my feet with a soft thud. I crossed the creek a few times, hoping it would be like in the movies, and the creature would lose my scent because of this. Fat chance. I barreled through the woods, pushed by the adrenaline to stay alive once again, and try not to think about anything else. I travelled a half a mile downstream before seeing my wood fortress to be. This was it. I wasn't going to find a better option, not without risking my life by letting the white-eyed devil gain ground on me.

I quickly poured my hatchet from its sheath, which had been hanging from my best. I searched around and found a large maple tree that branches had reached down to the ground. I chopped a few limbs down that were perfect sizes to make spears and headed into the abandoned shack. I stepped inside, absorbing my surroundings. There wasn't much inside besides some old snack cake wrappers, bottles of vodka, empty, unfortunately, and an old stained mattress that sat atop some milk crates. this would do just fine. I immediately went to work using the edge of my hatchet,

which was sharp thanks to my obsession with knives and such. Soon, I had three spears that were around six feet long. The plan was, if I was attacked, I would use the spear to keep separation between myself and the thing that was coming for me. I decided to run back out and find a log that was long enough that I could push it against the inside of the door and wedged against the adjacent wall.

It would be just another line of defence in what would be my final stand. A couple of hours had passed and it was almost completely dark outside. I sat inside the window as shack playing out scenarios in my mind over and over. The likelihood I could survive another encounter with one of those things

seemed low. If both showed up, it was over. The screams were. were now a mixture of my dad's voice and an unidentified female. I'd always heard these creatures would use your own voice as a scare tactic. Luckily, this one hadn't. I wondered how long these things had been out here, hunting and killing. I'd used the trail road here a few dozen times and never encountered anything out of the ordinary. Sure, there were tales that got passed around since the cemetery was the last thing you saw before entering the woods.

But this was no ghost. It was as real as you or me. I closed my eyes and tray my ears the best I could to the noises from just outside the lean-to's walls. The screaming had abruptly stopped, but now it sounded like the wind was blowing the tops of the trees down. I could hear them sway as they cracked and popped. How could I have forgotten the thing had jumped out of a tree the night before?

Crouching in the centre of the shack, sitting on the log that was holding the door shut, I held my breath, listened closely. Sweat poured from my forehead, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking. The trees had stopped moving. There was no wind. It was deadly silence. All of a sudden, something knocked on the door. Although I wanted to scream, I didn't. dare move. The door wouldn't keep that thing out for long, but maybe long enough for me to attack it. Brad, is that you in there? We aren't far from one of the main roads, the way the crow flies, at least. Come on out and we'll head that way. Come on, we need to hurry. A voice I recognize whispered from just the other side of the rotten wood door. My father's voice was between

betraying the creature. Although he had gotten better at mimicking him, it was still apparent that something was off. He paused for a moment before repeating himself, verbatim, and then stopped again. This creature didn't have many of my father's words mastered. Still, he tried again anyway. This time he was becoming angry. He pushed against the door. It barely budged. Come on now, son. Open up. We don't have time for this. I swear it's me. We need to get back.

His voice shook. I began to wonder if maybe. It was actually my father. When I heard branches from above crack, and my father's voice scream in terror from the shack's front porch. The thing was trying hard to scare me. And boy, was it, succeed. I grabbed my longest spear and squatted in the middle of the shack, holding the point towards the door, trying to prepare myself for whatever came next.

The trees above me sounded like a tornado was blowing through them. Something heavy slammed into the roof of my hide-out, and my father's voice cried out, Run, Brad, run! I wasn't falling for it. It was trying to draw me out again. me out again. Not this time, I thought. I held my position, both hands holding the spear straight up with the base supported by the ground and the hatchet back on my belt. It was going to attack from a bath again. Not without a fight from me, though. The creature slammed into the roof again,

and this time the old rafters couldn't take the weight. The slam was followed by the sound of ancient wood snapping and breaking and a thousand wood splinters exploded like a grenade into the room, causing me to turn my head to protect my eyes. Just as I did, something heavy came down on top of me, knocking me on my back, followed by an explosion of something wet. The bastard must have come down right on my spear. My plan worked. I rolled over and looked up to see my father, just as he yanked the spear from his chest and blood covered the floor. Sweet Jesus, it really had been my father at the door. My paranoia would stop me from looking to see who it was. And now, because of me, my father was bleeding out in the floor. I rushed to

his side, thrusting my hands over the wound in a feeble attempt to stop the blood loss. He looked up, passed me, threw the hole in the roof, into the trees, and I did the same. There was a pair of glowing white eyes looking down at me, and I could hear a faint growling. I turned back to my dad and frantically said, Dad, I'm so sorry, I thought it was that whatever they was. I didn't know it was you. You have to get up and run. I'll hold this thing off.

long as I can. He kept his eyes locked on the creature in the trees. It's okay, son. That thing had been following you and I was following it. It disappeared, so I thought it was safe to come out, but it snatched me from the porch, and well, you know the rest. He chuckled as he said this. Only he wouldn't lose his sense of humor at a time like this. I looked up through the hole in the roof, and the creature was gone. Tears poured from my eyes as I saw the blood staining my hands that covered the hole in his chest. I'm going to go out there and try and lure it away.

When it comes from me, you run to the road, I replied. Dad smiled, and before speaking, coughed up a mouth full of blood. No, you aren't. J.R. and I killed the other one, but it took J.R. with him. I plan to return the favor. Here, help me up. I pulled him to his feet. Ludd seeped through the one hand over the hole in his chest, and he used the other to take a spear and prop himself up. He turned to me and said, We're both going out the front door. I'll go left. You try to made it to my horse. go right.

The road back to town is just over the next hollow. You can make it. You don't have a choice. I knew there was no sense in arguing with him. This wasn't a debate. He had just told me what was going to happen, and it would one way or another. We hugged, and both of us grunted in pain as we did.

The last thing he said to me before we ran through the door, with a smile was We're getting out of the horse business today After this, okay boy I jumped off the porch and ran as hard as I could A spear in one hand and my hatchet in the other I tried to listen for any signs of my father Or the creature

But didn't hear any I flew through the woods My own speed surprising me The moon was brighter than the night before And up ahead I could see where the woods stopped. Hopefully it was the road. Finally, I burst from the woods out onto the black top and paused, looking left and right, trying to decide which route was best. I decided to go left and jogged along the shoulder, hoping at any moment my dad would emerge from the woods, though I knew this

was unlikely. I ran steadily down the shoulder for what felt like forever, and still there was nothing but woods as far as I could see. It felt like I would never make it. Something caught me off guard. I felt a fiery pain shoot through my left leg and I hit the ground. I rolled over and looked at my thigh, only to see one of my spears sticking out from it. I spun my head around and just behind me in the road, the white-eyed creature was bounding towards me in long, smooth, unnatural strides. I got to my knees and yanked the spear from my leg and felt like I would faint from the pain.

But what adrenaline I had left pushed me harder than ever. I climbed to my feet and, in a last-chance power drive, sprinted towards the creature. The creature's mouth slowly opened, impossibly wide as I closed in on him. It had teeth like a shark, except they were longer, curled and twisted. The teeth looked like roots.

It had scaly skin that looked like tree bark. Its arms were so long its fingers dragged along the ground as it walked. This was the first time I'd truly seen the monster. My eyes burned it was so ugly. It rang out my father's voice for the last time. This isn't funny. Come back now. This isn't funny, Brad.

It said, almost mockingly. I couldn't have agreed more. Still running, I lowered the spear in my left hand, holding it tight against my waist for support, and drew the hatchet back behind my ear as I closed in on the freak of nature. We collided in the middle of the road. My spear only grazed his side,

but my hatchet landed true in the creature's sternum, with a sickening thud, and it recoiled, falling to its back and scrambling away with a hatchet still lodged in its chest. I got to my feet and grabbed the spear with both hands and ran and jumped on top of it, planting the spear through its throat. The creature led out a series of screams that sounded like a hundred voices rolled into one. It was horrifying. I pushed my foot on the creature, his chest, removing the hatchet. I knelt beside the wriggling Goliath, holding it down with a spear, and commenced to hack. I didn't stop until there was nothing left but a bloody pulp. I was dizzy from blood loss and exerting so much effort. Still, I made it to my feet, using the spear as a crutch.

I removed my belt and fashioned a half-ass tourniquet. I then started limping back in the direction I'd been travelling when I was attacked. I don't know exactly how far I made it before collapsing. I don't know how long I laid in the road before I got lucky and someone drove through and saw me. I work up in the hospital some days later. They said I was dehydrated and had experienced severe trauma to my right leg. They had no idea what trauma was

The police had been waiting outside my room when I woke up Boy, did they have some questions Where were J.R. and H? Where was my father? I knew the answer to two of those for sure One had a good idea about the other one. I lied to the police law, naturally. I told them we were ambushed by some angry hunters and gave them fake descriptions.

They would never have believed me. I wasn't going to be ridden off as crazy, not after everything I'd been through. My family was loud enough to the police finished their questioning, and they were ecstatic to see me, and were worried about my father. I lied to them too, and told them he'd died before we made it out. Well, it was mostly a lie, but the likely probability was that he had died. There was no reason for them to have to know the truth. The Gilly Hill Church of Christ Minister even visited me.

I actually told him the truth. He didn't respond, just said God bless and left. I spent a week in total in the hospital, and to this day I carry a limb. The bodies of my father and the others were never recovered. All we found of the horses were their hooves and the saddles. I'd like to say it all ended there, but it didn't. I have another horse now. Sorry, Dad. I didn't get out of the business like you wanted.

It's just that, well, the horse makes it easier to hunt those white-eyed sons of bitches. Geraldine Farmer stared out the window over the kitchen sink, hands clutching a dish towel. A thunder clap came again, followed by a... streak of lightning. She started and backed away, well-worn slippers scraping against the linoleum. The rain began to fall, coming in erratic drops that beat against the window and the sides of the house. After another rumble of thunder, the sky opened up and the rain poured down in sheets, groaning on the roof, slapping the glass. The wind howled, and the trees surrounding the house whipped against the darkening sky like subjects bowing to an invisible.

God. Geraldine's fingers fumbled behind her and gripped the back of a wooden kitchen chair. Without taking her eyes from the dramatic scene just outside her window, she sank into its cushioned seat. As the storm rolled on, Geraldine's focus on the backyard softened. The woods behind the swaying trees on the perimeter of her property were thrown into sharp relief as another streak of lightning lit the sky. It was in that split second. that Geraldine saw the face. The face was young and pale, with a glimmer of a smirk playing on blue-tinted lips.

A rushing sound to her left tore her attention away from the horrifying visage. The calendar had fallen off the wall. Grateful to be busying herself with anything other than the face in the woods, Geraldine rose and crossed the room. It was as she was pushing the thumb-tack back into the wall, that she saw the date. June 30th, 2008. Her left side jerked spasmodically,

and she gasped in pain as a hot lick of fire shot up her neck into her head. She staggered backward, only vaguely aware that her vision was becoming incredibly blurry. June. Her daughter. Turning, she reached for the warm-mounted telephone and dialed 9-1-1. When the operator answered, Geraldine Farmer uttered only one word before collapsing into unconsciousness. Molly.

Molly Larson slammed the door to the sedan and flew up the pebbled walkway. Her grandmother stood just inside the screen door and bent to embrace the child as she bounded up the steps. Hi, Grammy, Molly said brightly, her blue eyes dancing. Hi, Mom. As Molly's mother plodded up the walkway, Geraldine noticed how deflated she looked. "'Hello, June.' They embraced, and Geraldine stepped back, allowing both of them to enter her small, cottage-style home.

"'How are you doing, Molly?' Geraldine asked as they stepped into the living room. "'Did you have a nice try?' "'It was all right,' Molly said, twirling a long strand of blonde hair between her fingers. Her grey blue eyes sparkled, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. We got lost a couple of times, though.

And somebody caught Mommy off on the highway. She gave them the bird. Geraldine shot her daughter a look. But June just rode her eyes and sagged into the love seat with her son. Molly hung her head. I'm sorry. It's all right, sweetie. Her grandmother told her.

We all get angry sometimes and do things we later regret, right? Molly nodded, making a point to avoid her mother's eyes. Oh, can I go outside and play on the task? Geraldine nodded her approval. Just don't wander off, June called, but Molly had already disappeared out the door. Well, I can't believe the tire swing's still there, June said. I remember when Dad put it up. Geraldine took a seat opposite her daughter in a worn, paisley printed chair.

June, things are getting worse, aren't they? The younger woman's dark brown eyes instantly swam with tea. years. Mark served me with divorce papers, Mom. It's over. Geraldine sighed. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. June ran thin fingers through a short tangle of honey-colored hair. Honestly, I'm not. For the first time, Geraldine noticed how thin her daughter had become. The soft cotton dress that would have hugged an hourglass figure just a year ago, now hung limp as a dish rat. It looked as though somebody had picked June up and simply wrung her out. He's happy with Marcy, June told her mother.

Happier than he ever was with me. Molly and I are better off. Well, good reasons to him then, Geraldine replied, a snap in a voice. You can do better. You're still young. You'll find somebody else. At age 32 with a ten-year-old. She didn't exactly feel still young.

If anything, she felt double her age most days. The affair and subsequent divorce was taking a lot more out of her than she wanted to admit. I'm not concerned with that now, Mom. I just want to get myself back together so I can be a better mom for my little girl. She's only ten years old and she's already seen way too much. Geraldine nodded. Do you think this spiritual retreat will help you? June favored her mother with a ray.

I'll make it work. For Molly. Thank you for taking her for the summer mom. I'm not fit to be a full-time parent in the state I'm in. Well, she always spends a month here each summer, right? What a two more? She's safe here, June said, glancing over her mother's shoulder to peer out the window. Nothing but woods and streams, townhouses and cottages.

There aren't any freaks or child molesters running around like there are in the city. geraldine turned and smiled as she watched her granddaughter play on the tire swing she was on her stomach and she wound up the rope as tight as her legs would allow and was letting its unraveling spin her around why did you name her molly what june's voice rose in octave she gave an uncertain little laugh mom that was out of the blue besides you know why i named a ma'am jeraldine turned back a small friend brown furrowing her brow. I do. Mom. Really? June regarded her mother quizzically.

What brought this on? Geraldine shook her head. Humor, an old woman, will you? Mom, you're only 62. June protested. Then, seeing the strange look at it come into her mother's eyes, June relented.

All right, I've got the name from you. and yes I can see you really don't remember though Geraldine's frowned deepened Do you remember the stroke you had right before I gave birth? Oh yes, of course We were in the hospital at the same time I really thought I was a goner Yes, I was so worried about you

That it brought on my labour a few weeks early Mike and I hadn't decided on that yet She was just baby girl lasting for almost a week Geraldine nodded, listening. I brought the baby in for you to see. I sat on the edge of your bed and showed you your granddaughter. You've been dozing, but you opened your eyes for a second and looked at her. The first word out of your mouth was,

Marley, Geraldine finished. Her hand flew to her mouth. Oh, June, I completely forgotten that. June shrugged her small shoulders. I took it for a sign or something It's a beautiful name Geraldine forced a smile Yes, it is

A good fall of pose ears The sing-song melody floated on the wind It mingled so perfectly with the ambient noise Of the birds, rustling leaves and june bugs Could have been there all along Ashes, ashes, we all fall down The familiar words fell from Molly's lips in a whisper. She wriggled out of the tire swing and glanced around.

Hey, who said that? Molly stood by the swing, one hand on the tire, to slow its movement. She looked around but saw nobody else nearby. Somewhere in the distance, a lawnmower started up. A movement out of the corner of her eye turned her attention to the woods. The tall thicket of grass at the east. edge of the property began to ripple, even though there was no breeze. The hint of a giggle coming from that same direction made Molly move closer. She began walking towards the woods as though

her small, bare feet had a mind of their own. Ali, Molly asked uncertainly. Is that you? The movement in the grass stopped, and Molly too halted. She was standing just at the edge of the woods now. the grass came nearly to her shoulders in some spots. It was then that Molly noticed the change in the atmosphere. The sound of the lawnmower and the beetles were muffled now, as though too thick wads of cotton had been stuffed into her ears. Shaking her head, she took a step forward, reaching out both hands to part the blades of the grass.

When the thin white hand came down on her shoulder, she screamed. How's your grilled cheese, sweetie? Geraldine asked. Molly washed down a thick water of bread and cheese with a swallow of milk. The glass had begun to sweat, and it slipped in her hands, making a loud thwop against the table when she tried to set it down. She jumped at the noise.

It's good, Grammy. I didn't mean to scare you outside, honey, Geraldine said. It's just I've been trying to call you. You didn't seem to hear. I'm sorry. Molly felt her inside squirm at the recollection of the incident by the woods. Why had she been so scared? Molly prided herself on never being afraid,

especially since Mum always seemed to be. When the hand had grabbed her shoulder out in the backyard, Molly didn't immediately recognise it as her grandmother's, and she'd shriek like a baby gazelle being mauled to death by a lion. I wish her son and her family hadn't moved away. Geraldine went on, sipping a glass of ice tea. You and she always liked to play together in the summer.

I thought maybe she'd come back. Geraldine's smile was tender. She placed a hand on her granddaughter's shoulder. No, they saw the house months ago, I'm afraid. The elderly couple lives there now. They have no grandchildren. It looks like it'll just be you and me this summer. Molly frowned.

There are no other kids in the neighborhood. Geraldine shook her head. Not that I'm aware of. That's weird. How so? I heard a girl in the woods today. Geraldine flinched, drawing her hand away. Oh, he must have imagined it.

Molly chewed on her lower lip. Yeah, I guess so. You be careful around the woods, Molly. You understand? Molly was startled at the sudden snap in her grandmother's voice. Okay, I will. You're not to go into those woods alone. Molly nodded.

I used to go with Ellie sometimes. We took a shortcut to her house. Well, it was all right with Allison. She grew up in these woods. She knows them. I knew them. Molly grew quietly. She stared down at the table and sighed.

But first, when her mother had told her, she'd be spending the entire summer the cottage, Molly had jumped at the chance of being able to be free of her parents' constant fighting. She'd imagined long days with Ali, playing in the woods, swimming in her pool and having fun. Ali had written to Molly right before she moved. Her mother had misplaced the letter and the bad news that had come with it. It had only surfaced a couple of days before the trip to Grandma's house. Molly hadn't made a big deal out of the letter in front of her mum, but when she was finally in bed, she cried herself to sleep.

She loved her grandmother, but the thought of being her only playmate through the whole summer made Molly's chest feel heavy. She didn't want to cry in front of her grandmother right now, so she grabbed the slippery glass with an iron grip and chugged what was left at the mill.

Hey! Geraldine spoke gently. Why don't we go to the orchard tomorrow and pick some apple? If I... just get a bit higher. Molly spoke through gritted tea. She stood under a small apple tree, one arm stretched so high, it felt as if any moment it might come out of the socket. She was pushing so hard to reach the shiny green orb above her head

that her toes hurt. She felt a surge of renewed hope when her fingertips brushed once and then twice around the fruit. Then a sudden cramp in her left leg sent her sprawling to the ground. Damn it! she brushed sweat-soaked hair off of her forehead she glowered at the apple as it bobbed in the slight breeze she might as well have been laughing at him need a hand molly turned to see a tall dark-haired boy beside her though she hadn't answered his question he was already stooping to pick up the apples that had spilled out of a small basket molly guessed him to be about twelve oh thanks molly said, getting up and brushing off her backside. The boy smiled shyly and returned her basket.

No problem, he said with a shut. I'm Adam. Molly. You live around here? No, Molly said, shaking ahead. I'm visiting my grandmother for the summer. Oh, come to think of it. Where was her grandmother? Molly scanned the rows of trees. She could have sworn she was just beside her her only a moment ago. Is her house here in town? Molly had been concentrating so hard on trying to locate the familiar purple dress and grey hair that she started at Adam's words. Um, no, Molly said, shifting the basket.

She lives in a college out at Bridge Creek, right by Harper's Woods. Adam's mouth dropped open, and he took a step backward. He seemed to be about to say something when he was interrupted by a sudden. and yell to their left. Molly! Geraldine, face flushed, hair askew, came panting toward the two children. Her eyes darted back and forth between them. She laid a hand on her granddaughter, Sean.

Where have you been? I thought you were right behind me. Molly felt her face begin to flush at being scolded in front of a boy who was almost a teenager. I'm sorry, Graham, Molly said. I thought you were right behind me, too. Hello there. Geraldine said stiffly, nodding curtly to Adam. Hello, I'm Adam. I'm here with my dad, but he knows where I am.

Molly suppressed a giggle. The kid obviously thought he was about to be scolded as well. All right, Geraldine said, her expression softly. That's good to know. Sweetie, yours's ready to get going. We need to stop at the grove. grocery store before we go home. Sure, Molly said.

Nice meeting you, Adam. Nice meeting you, Adam. Geraldine parented. Molly and her grandmother had made it most of the way out of the orchard before Adam bounded back into sight. He tapped Molly on the shoulder and greeted her startled cry

with a wide grip. In his hand he held the elusive fruit that had caused their meeting. Oh, um, decided you might want this, he said, topping off her basket. Oh, thanks, Molly said, glancing backward to be sure she didn't lose her grandmother again. Hey, listen, I guess you haven't heard her.

Molly frowned at Adam's sudden change in tone. His dark eyes were dancing with mischief. What are you talking about? Harper's Woods is haunted. Oh, come on, Molly began, but he cut her off. no seriously he said stepping back it's really weird that you're staying there for the summer too what's so weird about that adam gave her a long look before speaking again i can't believe you don't know adam said shaking his head the ghost in the woods her name is molly molly stared into the woods and bit down on a tart green apple defiantly she hated that stupid kid it had been three days since he told her that dumb story about a ghost with her name trying to convince herself that he was just some weird kid looking to scare people had done little to stop the night-mots

her grandmother kept asking molly why she looked so tired at breakfast but molly didn't want to say she was sure her grandmother would think the stress of her parents divorce or loneliness was bringing it on besides grandma hadn't been feeling too well herself the last couple of days and the last thing molly wanted to do was make her feel words. After a third night of bad sleep, Molly made a decision. She was going to go into the woods. She'd been in it a million times with Allison, and her best friend had never told her about a ghost in the woods. Also, she knew as long as she avoided it, she'd probably keep having the nightmares. When she walked towards the edge of the property line, she threw a guilty glance toward the house. When she left, Grandma had been sleeping on the living room sofa bundled under a blank. blankets, tissues and hot tea at hand. Molly convinced herself that it was because she didn't want to wake her grandmother up that she hadn't asked for permission. Yeah, right. Molly adjusted the small pack on her

shoulder, stepped past the tall blades of grass and walked into the woods. I'll just walk to where Allison used to live and walk back. If no ghost gets me, then there is no ghost. Molly set off down the small worn path, oblivious to the presence taking shape behind her. Marley, Marley wants her dolly. Three-12-year-old girl stood in a circle around a fourth child, a thin blonde who appeared younger than the rest. The old girls tossed a doll between them, sticking out their tongues and making faces at the girl in the middle. The little blonde jumped up each time the treasured toy flew overhead, and though she stood on tiptoes, she couldn't come close. She couldn't come close. close to reaching it.

Don't pick on me. Despite the defiance in her tone, her trembling lower lip egged the bullies on. Poor little Molly. Want a lolly? Marianne, the tallest of the girls, produced a dumb, dumb lollipop from a pocket in her overalls. Sarah had the don now, his short red hair tangled up in her thick fingers.

She swung it back and forth like a pendulum, a sour expression on her pudgy face. Don't swing raggedy ann like that. Give her back. Why don't you run and cry to your Grammy, Molly? Jerry, the third girl chimed it. Yeah, Marianne agreed. She looked to her friends.

Her mommy doesn't want her. Dropped her off on the doorstep and ran away. How come your mommy doesn't want you, Molly? Jerry asked. Yeah, Sarah agreed. Is there something wrong with you? Why'd you spend all your time in the woods, Molly? Jerry asked, scornfully.

"'I hear you talk to yourself,' Sarah jeered. The lollipot Marianne had been holding hit Molly on the side of the head, making a loud thwock in her ear. "'Leave me alone,' Molly shrieked. Her fist clenched into balls at her side as tears poured down her cheeks. "'Just leave me alone. "'Just then, a sudden gust of wind rocked the trees in the woods around them. "'The sky, which hadn't held even one cloud only moments ago,

was suddenly grown dark as though an unseen hand had reached out to block the sun. Thunderstalk, Sarah announced, tossing the doll to Marianne. Jerry seemed to be the only one to notice the sudden change in Molly. The young girl was no longer crying. She wasn't even moving. She was glaring, emerald eyes darting methodically from Marianne to Sarah and then back to Jerry. Jerry fell to herself taking several step backwards. nearly ploughing into Marianne and Sarah,

who had begun to dance amidst the sudden rain shower. A deafening boom of thunder followed a streak of purple lightning that painted the sky. Hey, watch where I'm running, Marianne laughed, shoving the doll into her friend's hands. Let's get out of you, Jerry yelled above the storm. Her gaze still on Molly. Those eyes. They just kept moving. No, ticking.

Jerry realized with a crawling shudder and the eyes reminded her of one of those Kit-cat clocks ticking off the seconds. Yeah, let's go, Sarah agreed, pushing a wet tangle of hair from her face. The two girls took off down the path, shrieking the delight. Jerry watched them go.

I'm going to get lost in the woods. The voice was so close to her ear that Jerry screamed and jumped back. Though Jerry had only looked away for a moment, Molly had somehow managed to cover the ten or so feet between them in that time. Her face was only inches from Jerry's, her green eyes dark with rage and still red rim from crying. She snatched the raggedy Ann doll from Jerry's loosening grip with animal ferocity. A smile on Molly's pale face was pure rage. But I'll come back for all of you.

Geraldine worked with a start, her hand clutching at her sweat-soaked chest. As she struggled to ride herself on the sofa, she was seized by a sudden coughing fit. Grabbing a cushion for support, she reached for a tissue and waited for the fit to pass. Damn it, Geraldine cursed. She could still see the cold eyes locked onto hers, still feel the sudden shock of cold raindrops through the canopy of dense forests. I'll come back for all of you. That whispered threat, uttered nearly five decades ago, still echoed in her mind as though the words have just been spoken.

Marianne, Sarah and Geraldine had all made it out of the woods unscathed that day, and Molly had stayed true to her word. She disappeared. The search party had been sent out to look for her when Jerry, despite the protest of her friends, told Molly's grandmother that they'd last seen her playing in the woods. neither Molly nor the body of the young girl was ever found. Jerry had been terrified to knock on the old woman's door. For decades she'd held the title and reputation of town witch. Though she had been polite, Molly's grandmother had stared coldly at young Geraldine throughout her well-rehearsed lie as though she could see straight through her.

She knew what the kids in the neighbourhood said and did to her grandchild, though she passed away long before she ever saw what she saw what she was. Molly had in store for that. Ten years later, on the exact anniversary of the day Molly disappeared, then twenty-one-year-old Marianne Hutchins decided to go for a walk in the woods, though she hadn't entered them in a decade. She got up early in the morning, left her newborn son with a neighbor, and vanished. The neighbor would later report that Marianne had looked almost as if she was sleepwalking. The neighbor also noted that she thought it odd that Marianne was. was not wearing a coat as it had been pouring rain.

They found her body by the river three days later. The papers hadn't been specific, but the ranger who'd found her began telling tales to anyone who had listened that the young woman had been found with her eyes wide open. Face contorted in fear. Ten more years were passed before the death of Sarah's grandfather brought Sarah, her husband and two children back to her home. By this time, Geraldine had all but forgotten the strange incidents

of Harper's Woods. She'd been married, and she and her husband were expecting what would be their only child, June. Geraldine had been sitting at the kitchen table the next morning, cutting Sarah's grandfather's obituary out of the paper when the phone call came in. Sarah's husband could only conclude that, in her grief over losing her grandfather, Sarah must have woken in the night to take a walk and had perhaps gotten turned around in territory much changed since her childhood. They found her car park just outside of Harper's Woods, and the body only 20 minutes later.

Though the coroner had proclaimed accidental drowning as the cause of death, Geraldine knew better. It was then that Geraldine made peace with the fact that she only had one decade left to live. But death instead came to claim the life of Geraldine's husband during the span of that ten years, and she didn't come in the form of an angry,

child on a specific anniversary day. Walter had simply stepped off the curb and had been hit and instantly killed by a drunk driver. Though Geraldine spent some time worrying over June, she soon convinced herself that nothing supernatural had ever had designs on them. The strange deaths of Marianne and Sarah were just creepy coincidences. The insurance money Geraldine had come into from her husband's death had helped her and her young daughter more than either of them had expected it. June was able to attend a private boarding school during the fall and spend each summer at an exclusive summer camp. Geraldine closed her eyes now and forced herself to take a deep breath. Picked up her mug of cold tea and took a long swallow to further calm her throat and prevent another

coughing fit. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the tissue she still clutched in her hand. She rose from the couch and made her way to the kitchen, selecting a glass from the cabin, it she turned on the tap. As she passed by the window, a flicker of movement caught her eye. She frowned at the calendar that hung on the wall by the phone. Its pages were fluttering as though caught in a breeze, but a quick glance around the kitchen told her no window was open. Geraldine's heart raced as her feet moved her toward the fluttering pages. She felt the glass slipped from her hand. It hit the linoleum and shattered. But Geraldine's heart. But Geraldine's didn't hear. She didn't even feel the glass shard that penetrated the thin sole of her

house slipper and she staggered backwards. A flash of lightning lit up the sky. Geraldine gasped and turned a face drained of colour to the window and the woods beyond. Oh, no, she's! The voice was a whisper. Molly whirled to face the sound but could see nothing but forests. She licked dry, chapped lips and swallowed heart. Who's there? She'd heard a twig crack a few minutes ago. Had somebody or something been following her? When the shape appeared from behind the gnarled old oak tree, Molly gasped and took a step back. The little girl smiled. There's a storm moving in. You should go home. Molly's chest tightened as she stared at a young girl who appeared to be about Molly's age, with long, stringy blonde hair and a tattered dress.

The only thing that stood out were her eyes, green and almost unnaturally bright. Who are you? Molly asked. I'm Claire, the little girl said, stepping forward. It seemed to Molly that with each step she took, the little girl seemed to glow brighter somehow, as if bathed in her own private sunshine. I bet you thought I was a ghost, her? Molly surprised herself by giggling. Yeah, well, somebody told me a ghost story about these woods.

Oh, I come here all the time, Claire said. I've never seen a ghost. When Claire reached out her hand, Molly felt the slightly cold but solid presence of bone and skin when she shook it. She felt her muscles relax. The girl was just as real as she. Where do you live? Claire pointed

On the other side of the woods You know the old lake house Molly laughed I thought me and grandma Had the old lake house No, the other one Claire said Molly's mouth formed

And oh of surprise You live where my best friend Alison Used to live Blair smiled I do Yeah And grandma told me there were no other kids there Claire shrugged

Oh I'm staying there with my grandparents for the summer. A sudden rumble of thunder caught their attention. Molly looked up. Why hadn't she noticed the sky getting so grey? Do you want to come over, Molly? I'll tell you the real ghost story if you come with me. Molly felt a spidery shiver crawl along her spine.

Claire, I never told you my name. Claire turned back, frowning. Yes, you did. Molly shook her head. She stared back. No, I didn't. Thunder clapped again. Molly looked up as the lightning flashed across the sky.

When she looked back, Claire was gone. Molly gasped, turning right and left as large drops of rain splashed on her head and arms. The voice was a deafening whisper all around her. Somewhere in the depths of the woods, Claire laughed, a maniacal giggle that reverberated off the trees and seemed to chase the falling rain deep underground. Molly, ran. Molly! Molly! Geraldine screamed as she slid down the embankment. A sharp pain shot through her leg, and she prayed as she tumbled and rolled that it wasn't broken.

Nobody knew where she was. She could die out here. She landed on her hands and knees in the deep puddle of muddy water. Molly! She'd been curming the woods for nearly an hour, but so far had seen no sign of her granddaughter. The rain poured down in sheets. Geraldine lurched blindly into a tree and howled on.

For a moment, she was twelve years old again, helping her friends pick on a helpless little girl. She saw the rage in the eyes of the girl, not so distant memory. Fifty years to the day. How would she not realize the date? Lightning flashed and lit a streak of blonde in the distance. At first, Geraldine was struck by an urge to scream.

Then she recognised her grandchild. Barefoot, both slippers lost long ago under muck and leaves, Geraldine staggered barefoot towards Molly's unconscious form. Molly! Geraldine slid down to her knees and cradled the rain-soaked head in her arms. Oh God, please don't be dead. Baby, honey, wake up. But the face was grey.

The blue lips parted. Geraldine put her hand to those lips and felt no breath. Molly! Geraldine pushed Molly onto her back and began performing the CPR she'd learned from a YWCA course over 30 years ago. Though she had no idea if she still remembered what to do, instinct took over. She pressed on the small chest and blew frantically into the child's mouth. A strong gust of wind picked up, wailing through the trees and nearly knocking Geraldine to the mud-soaked forest floor. She looked up, gasping, momentarily distracted from her task.

And she just heard her voice. Something moved in the distance. Her figure. Was somebody out there? "'Help! Help! Over here, please! It's my granddaughter. I think she's drowned!' Something moved, an amorphous figure melting into the trunk of a tree. Geraldine squinted, shook her head and resumed the chest pumps on her grandchild. An explosion happened beneath Geraldine's hands as Molly sat bolt upright and gasped for air. She fell onto her side and began coughing up water.

"'Molly! Molly! Molly!' Geraldine cried, holding her granddaughter close. You're all right. Oh, you're all right. Grandma? That's right, honey. Grammy's here. Geraldine pulled Molly away and held her at arm's length, checking her over for any injuries. The child's face was still pale,

but the colour was quickly returning. Geraldine smoothed her hair out of her granddaughter's eyes. Her granddaughter's eyes. They were green. All pretense gone, the strange child's mouth twisted into a wicked smile. Hello, Jerry. Geraldine staggered backwards with a shriek. No, no, where's my granddaughter? Where's Molly?

The little girl shook her head slowly, looking down at Geraldine as though she were a slug beneath her feet. Crossing the short distance between them with unbelievable speed, Molly knelt down and pressed her face. close to the older woman's. I am Molly, silly. No, no, you're not my Molly, Geraldine yelled, trying to pull herself upright in the mud.

A sudden pain shot through her arm and radiated upward through her jaw. The crushing chest pain soon followed suit. Geraldine knew she would never make it out of the woods alive. Your eyes, June will know that you're not her daughter. Geraldine Crows Molly from 50 years ago smiled again

moving away from the older woman who lay dying in the rain she closed her emerald eyes and when she opened them again they were the same shade of grey blue as those of her late grandchild whose body was now being piloted around by a vengeful spirit

Mommy June and I will have a wonderful life together don't you think those were the last words Geraldine farmer heard as the darkness closed in. The woods finally claiming her for its own. I don't like people much. Never have. My whole life I've gravitated to being alone, outside in nature. I told my kindergarten teacher I wanted to be an animal tracker. Kind of pictured it as a Steve Irwin thing back before Steve Irwin was a thing.

Anyway, I'm getting off track. I get paid to do it now. All sorts of property owners want to know what types of animals exist out in the middle of nowhere, usually because they want to build something and want to make sure they're not going to get in trouble for killing a bunch of endangered animals. I'll get dropped somewhere with all my supplies that I can carry, trail cameras, sometimes even a small drone. If I'm lucky I can get paid for a job and also get some photos that I can sell to a nature magazine. It's a pretty good gig, honestly, and it suits me well. Well, this one. was weird from the jump, way outside my normal area, and they demanded absolute secrecy.

I had to carry a sat phone that they provided, that was designed to only connect with them, and no other communications gear. I put that thing through the ringer before I agreed to it, but it was a solid piece of gear. Also had to give them a chance to review all pictures before deciding which ones I could keep. Something about evidence of minimal deposits. whatever the pay was five times what I normally got they were very clear I couldn't even tell anyone who'd hired me which I guess doesn't matter now aspectu corp who knows if that was real couldn't find anything when I googled them but when you get paid 50% up front in cash being able

to Google a company doesn't matter as much I worked out my planned route with a lot of input from my client. I get flown via a helicopter to a clearing. I worked my way up a game trail nearby around a lake, leaving some trail cameras, and then I'd work my way north along a river until I reached another clearing, where they'd drop some additional food for me

and take copies of my photo so far. Finally, I'd worked my way back south to the original clearing, checking the trail cameras on the way, and they'd pick me up there. Three weeks, with a big check for the rest of the payment at the end. Well, they were big on planning for emergency too. Said if anything happened, I should get to the closest of the two clearings and call for help.

Whatever happens, though, I wasn't to cross a stream to the south of a clearing that I'd be dropped in. The stream, for whatever reason, was a boundary I was not to pass under any circumstances. Whatever, not a huge deal. This company was paying enough to set some weird rules. Travel was a breeze. I got picked up right on sketch. Black car to a private jet to a helicopter pad on the edge of the world. Nothing below me but green as far as I could see. Car through with rivers and lakes. Nothing man-made, not a single road I could see anywhere.

The pilot looked like an ex-military guy, with a lean build, short haircut and a company polo. He had a little rocker on the sleeve that said, Nick Divinos. I asked him what it meant. He brushed me off. Fine. I don't like small talk either. Getting dropped off here was a sensation I'll never forget.

I'm used to being alone in the middle of the woods, but this place unsettled me. I felt like I was being watched and the second my feet hit the ground, unseen eyes dotting the dark forest surrounding me. I choked down the unease creeping up my throat and got to work. I'm a professional in the feeling faded quickly enough. I was alone in the world.

world. The most comfortable place for me to be. No sound but the birds in the trees and the leaves crunching under my feet. I started my first hike up around the lake and dropped off three trail camps. Worked my way up and around. The place buzzed with life. I got a ton of photos. Slept each night in my tent. Felt great. It was a second night when I realized something was off. I woke up to a start, realizing my fire had gone out. It took me a second to realize what had really woken me, a sense that I wasn't alone.

I've honed this over time. It's always good to recognize the feeling when a predator had entered your space to figure out if you were lunch or not. Some lizard brain stuff that evelusion gave us and modern life tries every day to dull. I took out my flashlight and peaked out of the tent.

I could vaguely see a shape about 20 feet from my tent in the moment. moonlight. I opened the tent and flick the flashlight on and immediately dropped it from the shock. The flashlight rolled off my foot and I lunged for it, grabbing it and aiming it back at the woods that were now empty. In that moment though, where the light hit it, I knew what I'd seen. A man dressed all in black robes. I paced around my tent scanning the woods, but he was nowhere to be seen. How would someone gotten out here?

In the middle of nowhere, no electricity, no roads. Hell, I'd been flown in via helicopter. Who the hell could sneak up on me and then vanish like this? I didn't see any further side of my nightmare visitor as I circled back for the trail cams and started out the river. I downloaded the photos I got in with them and flipped through them one night, quickly so I could keep my battery from running down. A lot of deer and some elk, the back end of what might have been a wolf.

I paused on one though, and the picture was blurry, but almost looked like a man. At least the top did. The bottom half looked like an elk. I tried to sharpen the picture, but it didn't work. Decided not to use that camera again in case it was malfunctioning. Still the picture it wasn't.

unsettled me in a way I couldn't quite put a finger on. I picked my way up the river, feeling more uncomfortable the further north I got. The abundant wildlife had faded to nothing. I didn't even see birds here. It seemed like a completely lifeless wilderness, and that scared me. It was the second day when I saw him again. I'd rounded a bend and saw him at the far boundary of the woods ahead. He was facing me, and seemed to wait until he was sure I'd seen him before. stepping back into the trees. I managed to snap a quick photo at a distance before he vanished.

The hike north was slow. I took photos to show I was doing something, though. I didn't see any sign of life. I still dropped the trail cameras, though, just in case. Every night I briefly turned on my computer to look at the blurry photo from the lake, staring at it as if it would make sense. The nights were unsublished.

settling. I saw strange lights in the sky that didn't match any meteors or northern lights I'd ever seen before. I tried not to look at them after realizing one night that what I thought had been 15 minutes staring into the heavens had taken up three hours of time. Something was staring back. I don't know why I just said that, but it feels true. My dreams turned dark. I had nightmares for the first time in years, where I was running through the woods, chased only by the thunderous sound of hooves that were everywhere and nowhere. The day before my arrival, at the second clearing, I decided to try out the drone to see if I could get any good footage. I sent it up the river around a bend and brought it back, stowing it so I could look at the

footage later. I continued to hike up to my planned resting spot when I saw them, on a ridge above me. Three men all dressed in identical black robes. I snapped a photo and I didn't seem to care. They watched me until I was out of sight. That night I downloaded the drone video and watched it. It was halfway through some beautiful but lifeless footage when I noticed some movement. In the woods was some sort of thing I couldn't make sense of. It had the lower body of an elk but the torso and head of a man, with antlers atop its head. I watched as it gracefully ran from the noise of the drone and then veered deeper into the woods. There's something very wrong with this place. I sat watching the video and realised I had to make a decision. I could turn this

over to my employer, say I was sick and needed to get out, even if I forfeited the money for the job. or I could take the new supplies and head south, get the cameras I'd left, try to figure out what is happening here. Sitting alone in my tent, thinking about the mysterious company that had brought me to this place, I realized I had to know more about what was happening.

I took the memory card I'd prepared to hand off with the photos I'd taken so far and moved the photos of anything unusual to my laptop. I left at dawn, hiking to the clearing where I'd be resupply, Half an hour before my arrival the helicopter roared past overhead and when I made it he was already on the ground I swapped out the batteries and supplies handing him the memory card to take back How's it been going? His voice was gruff and unconcerned

His flat effect that of a man who felt he had to make some sort of small talk but really wasn't concerned with whether or not I responded it. Fine. Not much in the way of wildlife here, I responded. I hesitated, and my voice caught as I decided to push the issue. He does anyone live up here? He raised an eyebrow at the question, stopped what he was doing to look at me. Why do you ask? I tried, perhaps unsuccessfully, to adopt an air of nonchalance. No reason, though I thought I saw someone the other day, but it seemed crazy. Sometimes your eyes play tricks on you when you're alone, you know. He considered this for a moment and nodded. Sure, no one's up here. They wouldn't survive the winters. You won't either if you don't get a move on. He nodded back towards the river, an indication that the conversation was over.

I grabbed my head gear as he got ready to depart. When I was ready, I turned to him. I'm going to get moving. Don't want to lose the light. He held out the memory card I'd handed him. This is everything. Barsis are particular about this stuff. We locked eyes and I nodded. He nodded back. Good. Stay safe out there. Walking south felt different. The feeling of unease in the back of my mind grew into a dread in my throat. I couldn't explain it but I picked up my pace. Even as I collected the trial cameras, I didn't check the photos. For some reason, I was terrified at what I'd see. My sightings of the mysterious black robe men increased.

Every time I rounded a bend, there'd be one ahead of me. Every time I made the mistake of looking back, there'd be one in the distance watching me. I hiked with my head down, exhausting myself each day before settling in for a night of horrors in my dreams. I saw giant eyes in the woods watching me. I heard a buzzing sound that grew louder until I couldn't think or move. In one dream I was tied to a tree, surrounded by the black-robed individuals. They just stared at me. They were waiting for something.

Still, the nightmares were better than being awake after dark. The night sky blazed with strange lights that I didn't dare do more than glance at. It felt as if I'd tumbled off the earth into some alien. world, so similar to our own, but one where every twig and leaf had been soaked in danger. The night before I was set to leave, I finally looked through the trail cameras. I organised the photos by camera and then started clicking through. The progress was easier than I imagined. There really was no life to photograph along the river.

What I did see were the strange creatures I glimpsed from the drone footage. There was a pack, a herd of them. As I stared at the dates I realized they'd grown closer to me as I moved north on the river. They triggered the first camera three days after it was set up, but by the time they passed the last camera, they were arriving just hours after me. I paused, listened to the sounds of the night surrounding me, straining for a noise that would indicate I wasn't alone. But hearing nothing, the nights had grown colder,

and the days started to follow suit. I could see my breath as I arrived at the clearing where this journey had begun. I sat down and picked up my lunch while waiting for the helicopter to arrive. But it didn't. As night started to fall, I started to second-guess myself. Had I made better time on the return trip? Was I a day ahead of schedule? I checked the date on my computer screen and camera, and I misunderstood. I made my camp and decided to wait until the day. the morning. By noon the next day there was still no sign of the helicopter, and I powered on the

satellite phone they provided. The helicopter pilot answered on the first ring, and I felt a relief so strong I couldn't help break the ice with the joke. Have you ever had one of those days where you're forgetting to do something but can't figure out what? I laughed as I said it. His pause was agonizing, and in that moment my world crumbled. I'm not coming back out, man. I'm sorry. My mind raced and the words tumbled out in a nervous stream. Stop messing around. When will you be here? His voice sounded for long. I'm not. They know you didn't give them all the photos. The file names are non but dumbass. I swore under my breath. They won't let me come back out. But I wanted to be the one to tell you. Anyway.

Good luck. If I were you, I'd off myself before those things got me. He terminated the call in my world, fell silence. All I could hear was my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I looked back and forth and realized what I had to do. They needed to come get me, and I could make them. I broke camp and headed in the one direction they told me not to go. Due sound.

across the stream that marked the boundary of where I was told in no uncertain terms not to cross. I paused on the far side of the stream as if I expected a team of armed guards to materialize. Nothing happened and I continued south. I picked my way south for two days, trying to ration my food while looking for some sort of clues to what I should do next. On the second day I heard the buzzing noise from my nightmares and it only got strong. the further south I went. The world seemed to vibrate around me, and I began hallucinating as the volume increased. I saw dead friends and family standing in the trees.

Once I saw myself smiling and pointing into the distance. At first I thought the building was a hallucination too. I stepped into a clearing in the middle of nowhere in a squat. Concrete structure stood before me. I couldn't imagine how it was constructed. There were no roads to speak of, and it would have taken years to fly out all the materials needed by helicopter, not to mention the equipment and workers. I stepped into the clearing and walked towards the building. The leaves under my feet gave way to something hard, and I looked down and I realised I was walking on blackened animal bones.

As I got closer to the building, the bones gave way to blackened shells that shattered under my feet. The large metal door stood on the front of the building, with work. words in a language I didn't recognize. I reached for the door and opened it, marvelling at the lights inside and the warmth from the heat. I stepped in and closed the door, surprised again at how the buzzing vibration ceased the second the door closed and locked behind me. The building was four rooms, a bunk room with six beds, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and a large office room with computers and TV screens. The computers were all running some sort of program I couldn't stop, but I took a hot shower for the first time in weeks and washed my clothes

in the sink before hanging them to dry. I laid in a warm bed for the first time in almost a month and drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep. I awoke and took stock of my situation. There were a few cans of food in the kitchen, and it had running water that tasted fine. I heated up some ravioli over the stove while I considered what to do next. The decision was made for me though when I heard the satellite phone ringing from the next room I picked it up and recognized the voice on the other end of the line as my mysterious client who I hadn't spoken to since before my departure I thought I was very clear to you not to venture south of that stream he began in a measured voice you disobeyed me I frowned well it apparently worked didn't it

I got your attention. You have precisely 30 minutes to pack your items and depart. At that point, I will turn off the electricity to the compound. I would advise you to be on your way before that happens. Disabling the power that protects that place will create a vacuum, and you know that nature abhors them. What should I do then? I spat.

You can give up. It will make everything much easier. I don't like loose ends. His voice dripped with ice. 30 minutes starting now. I don't know why I believed him, but I did. I threw my supplies in my bag and sprinted for the door, moving quickly to put some space between myself and the mysterious building behind me.

I was moving through the trees when an ear-splitting scream pierced the woods. I don't know what made it, but it was as inhuman as sound as I'd ever. heard. I looked at my watch. Exactly 30 minutes had passed. I continued south, barely sleeping as I jumped at every noise I heard. Night was no darker than day now. The sky was a kaleidoscope of lights and movement. I woke one morning to an individual in black robes standing in front of my tent. They removed their hood, and I was faced with a rather normal-looking woman, not the frightening cultists I'd imagined in my head. Why did you come here?

I stared at her, uncomprehending the question. She repeated it, slower. Why did you come here? I nodded and stammered out an answer. It's my job. I thought I was just photographing some wildlife. She nodded. Pack your equipment now.

Follow this ridge south. You'll find an old cabin ten miles beyond here. It isn't much, but it's dry. Stay there for two full days. On the morning of the third day, if you're safe, walk due east. You'll come to a river. We'll have left a boat there. Take it south. It will be easygoing. There's an encampment three or four days downstream. I nodded but was no less confused. Who are you? She smiled in a sad sort of way. You have to leave now. I'm sorry that they did this to you.

You were nothing but bade for them. We'll try to throw it off your trail. I scrambled to break camp and move. It was right before dark when I arrived at the cabin. It was as advertised. The winters had been rough on it, but it was dry and removed me from the elements. Yesterday passed without incidents,

and as the sun started to set today I let myself get my hopes up for the first time maybe I could get out of it maybe I would survive this and thus could settle across the area when I saw it standing and staring at the cabin it must have been ten feet tall

with the antlers on its head but the man elk creatures stood motionless watching me I looked around and saw another then another They had surrounded the cabin. That was hours ago, and I've been struggling to type this since. I haven't moved once in that time, but there waiting for something.

I can hear the buzzing from my dreams again, and now I realise that what I heard coming from that building was not the same sound. It was artificial and synthetic. This noise is alive. It feels like it's coming from the earth itself. Something is coming I took apart

the satellite phone the company gave me I think I've managed to get a weak data connection on here might be enough to get this up on a text-only website tell people what happened to me they've moved now

but they're still here I can see them in the distance odd shadows cast off their antlers I hear something else too something unbelievably huge It's here now. I can see it. It's ever been in love.

That burning emotion of passion, one that surges through your soul, able to transcend all of the time itself. That feeling you'll think can last forever, only to be shut down by the harsh fist of reality. The shattering dread that fills you for months, years after it ends, be it due to drama, distance,

death? What if you can make a single moment of bliss last forever? To be united with your soulmate for the rest of eternity? Would you take that chance? Would you let it slip through your fingers like I did? I was given the chance of forever, but now I'm doomed to live out my days, eventually die and be washed away by the marching passage of time, while she is one with the bleeding tree. Flesh stripped from her bones as she's nurturing the ever-growing forest, suffering until the end of days.

It was our seven-year anniversary, and I promised Jen the perfect date. As we were both avid hikers, I figured a getaway picnic in a secluded spot, miles away from any other sentient being would be ideal. Together we'd traveled on

every trail, camped in every forest, and climbed each mountain within a hundred-mile radius, which of course made it difficult to find a new romantic spot anywhere nearby. But after asking around on different forums and getting advice from some of our travelling buddies, I finally learned about a place only a three-hour drive away from our city. A decently desolated forest named Morsewoods, which had very few trails. A hidden wonder of nature, which was exactly what we needed.

One afternoon, a couple of days before our anniversary, I drove out myself to scout the area. I'd taken the day off work without telling Jen to set off on my secret mission. I walked through the forest, marking trees with orange cloth as I made my way, hoping I had randomly stumble upon a body of water, maybe a clearing to set up a basket and enjoyed the sun.

The forest ran wild with life, birds emerging from each tree as I walked past, curious to the new creature that had invaded their home, walking around on two legs with no wings. Through the trees I could see a clearing in the forest, separated by a thick wall of thorny bushes. No sign of anyone ever wandering through, so I lay down on my knees and crawled my way through,

cutting myself on the thorns in the process. But it was worth it. On the other side I found a clear, open space only decorated by a lake and a single tree on the side, standing tall with branches spreading out so thick it provided a perfect parasol of cover against the midday sun. Oh, it was perfect. After a quick survey of the area,

I decided to dig a small hole under the tree, digging down a casket, containing a bottle of wine alongside any non-perishable food. The picnic would be a surprise, and at its end I would bring out the true anniversary gift, an engagement ring. Nothing too impressive, just a silver band with a half a carrot diamond.

Still, something I'd been saving up towards for the better part of a year. Being in our late twenties and all, young but determined, ready for commitment. The next two days passed at a snail's pace, waiting for the day to arrive. We'd both agreed to call in sick, waking up at the break of door. We had a system where we had our turn at arranging our anniversary date, and this year it was my chance to impress. Last date, she'd taken me for a weekend trip up a mountain, and now I aim to make it a day to remember for the rest of our lives.

We drove the almost 200 miles away from our city towards Morsewoods before quickly making our way through the dense forest. It was the peak time for birds' mating course, joyfully greeting us as we wandered through, enjoying the sun rising above the tree line. Dears had just studied. waking up, jumping curiously through the trees to inspect their new guests. Admittedly, I got a tad lost on the way, with a few of the cloth pieces having fallen off the trees.

I was in the lead, trying to guide, and didn't want to admit my inadequacy. Walking a few yards ahead, I stumbled upon a dead deer in our path. It was bizarre, half buried in the ground, half the flesh torn from his body. No smell, so it couldn't have been there for very long, yet it just seemed so rotten. Before Jen could see it, I admitted that we'd gone off the path, and as soon as she realized we were off track, we just retraced our steps and quickly found our way again. Somewhere around ten, we found the thick wall of bushes and crawled through. I created a decent-sized hole during my previous visit, ensuring that Jen wouldn't get hurt

on the thorns. A nasty cut would have been a huge turn-off for any date. There it was. The perfect spot. Even more delightfully idyllic in the glimmering morning light, reflecting on the dewdrops covering the leaves. So, what do you think? I asked. Oh, wow, it's unbelievable. How did you find this place? A trade secret. I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you, I joked. I'm sure I can find a way to extract that information later, she said as she winked at me. We brought a picnic basket with bread, spreads and freshly made salad. Nothing too fancy, but Jen still didn't know about the hidden stash I'd put away under the tree.

Hey, what's this? Jen said as she spotted a heart-shaped red balloon, stuck on under one of the tree branches. Beneath it hung a string, with an envelope attached to it. Jen jumped up and pulled it down, carefully detaching the envelope and tying the balloon around her wrist to stop it from floating away.

That's so sweet. You didn't have to, she said as she opened the envelope, pulling out a handwritten letter. Jen, I didn't, I tried to explain, but she'd already started reading. She quickly realized I had nothing,

to do with the letter and when her face turned from joy to disappointment but well she shook away her frown and returned to her gleeful self i guess somebody found this place before you she giggled and she began reading the letter out loud dear sandra you wouldn't believe a place like this could exist undiscovered and hidden from the rest of civilization oh it's so beautiful a secret garden of eden and the And the best parties, I found it on accident. I bought you this balloon for your birthday. I wanted to tell you in person that I love you. But I guess I'm a coward.

I realize we haven't told each other that yet, but I figured it would fit better here by the crystal clear lake and the wonderful wildlife, especially the ducks. But, well, I can't leave. There'll be excellent food for the bleeding tree. I know how much you like ducks, but when I found this place, the tree was dying, and it wasn't strong enough to consume me, but if I feed it the birds, the rabbits, whatever other wildlife inhabits this area, I can finally merge with it and become one with the forest. I wish I could have taken you here, but I've already planted the seed within me, and if I leave, the seed will die.

I'll attach this letter to the balloon and hope it finds you. Maybe you can come here. and join me. The bleeding tree needs our flesh to live. Love, Jack. Jen handed me the letter with a confused look on her face. Um, I think I must have misread something. I didn't really make any sense. I took the letter and skimmed over it. The handwriting was fairly unintelligible from the get-go, but it only got worse as it went on, and my dyslexic eyes could hardly decipher it. Jen had always been the one to translate doctor's notes and anything written in cursive. Despite my slow deciphering, it seemed correct. The bleeding tree needs our flesh to live.

Oh, that's unsettling. Have you ever heard about the bleeding tree? I asked. Our town had quite a few legends, urban tales and various myths, but nothing like this. Jen shook her head, still looking confused and wildly worried. It's probably a prank, right? She asked. Yeah. Yeah, it has to be.

What else? I said, before pointing to the balloon. And these helium balloons deflate like after a day, right? So somebody had to have put it here really recently. Sure, but why? She had a point. In the most secluded forest in our area, a place that seemed untouched by mankind.

Why would anyone plant a balloon with a fake note, unless they'd followed me, and even then, who would wander around for hours just to prank someone? How about we just eat? I asked. I'm sure the balloon got caught in the wind or something, then somehow ended up stuck under this tree. Probably wasn't even meant for us, right? She nodded, and we decided to prepare our picnic dates.

We started with the sandwiches and salad. I decided to keep the wine a secret until the end of the date, where I'd pour her a glass at sunset and propose with the ring, before we fell asleep under the stars. We ate, talked about a future we could only dream about, full of travel, adventures, free from the traditional work and adult responsibilities, made futile plans about how we could make enough money to disappear off the face of the earth for a few years. We were dreamers, but that's how we liked it.

Always talking about impossible things, some not even remotely grounded in reality. Jen took a knife out of our picnic basket, decided we should write our initials into the tree to be remembered for the next few decades. Do you want to do it? she asked. I grabbed the knife and cut in, R and J. I lay on the ground and stared up at the tree above.

there was a small hole in the otherwise continuous ceiling of leaves and beyond it hung a brilliant blue sky an infinite cover for the secrets of the universe my mind wandered and i pondered all the possibilities of the world which triggered a conversation we'd had a thousand times before wouldn't it be cool if we could just live forever i said rhetorically not expecting an answer you don't want to live forever Jen responded as if it were a fact. Well, maybe not forever, but imagine a couple of thousand years to explore. Trust me, you get bored. You can't even finish a movie in one sitting.

That's different. I wouldn't get bored of this. Honestly, I could do this until the end of time, I argued. It's not different. An eternity is, by definition, boring. Imagine having sold all the mysteries in the world. having thought every possible thoughts, seen every part of every planet, what do you do next? So you wouldn't want more time?

Nope, life is beautiful exactly because it's fleeting. It could vanish in a second, meaning we're forced to enjoy it as much as we can. Infinite life would just let us procrastinate fighting happiness forever. The discussion went on like that for a while, like it had before. it had before and like it most likely would in the future as we finished up the salad I scanned around for the patch of freshly dug dirt thinking I should start planning the next stage in our dates to my surprise there were no disturbed parts of the grounds everything had been grown over seemingly untouched I lost my secret hiding spot and panic started to

rise in my blood you're all right you look a bit worried Jen asked. Yeah, I just... I'm going for a little walk. Digest the food and all. Want to come with? No. I think I'll just lie here and write, she responded.

Jen pulled out her journal and started writing about her day. She always preferred to relax after a meal, but I had to think. And thought that maybe I could remember where I put the stash if I walked around the area. But, well, I needed to be subtle. It was an oddly quiet afternoon, and though the sun stood high up in the sky, it was almost cold. That, in addition to the lack of animals surrounding the lake, it just felt wrong.

I poured out the letter again, and read over the part about the lake being filled with ducks and about animals that surrounded it, animals that would feed the bleeding tree. Then I saw something that contrasted startly with the clear water and the smooth rocks beneath it, shattering the monotonous glimmer, something white, long sticks littering the lake floor. They were bones. From what I could tell, they mostly seemed like birds' rib cages, some maybe foxes or other small animals, but a few were larger, too large to come from any animal that lived in that forest. I took off my shoes to wade into the shallow water. I picked up the largest one, A femur, based on what I could tell, almost looked like it belonged to a human being.

I heard Jen yell from the tree. I ran over, not understanding what she was yelling about, until I stepped in something wet just next to the tree. I looked down at my feet to see a crimson liquid covering seeping up between my toes. What the f! I said, realizing all too late that I was standing in a pool of blood. There, she stuttered as she pointed at the tree we'd had our picnic beneath. A pool of dirty blood had gathered around the tree in my absence. The bark where we'd etched our names in had fallen off, and blood emerged from the hole.

It was bleeding profusely, bright red liquid flowing out from the tree and mixing with the mud below. What the hell is the tree? I trailed off. It can't be blood. It has to be something else. Jen picked up a long stick and started prodding at the bleeding hole. Jen, don't. It's disgusting, I said, but she'd already shoved the stick deeper into it. The entire tree twitched in reaction, as if filled with muscles, all contracting, trying to avoid the pain of being cut.

Jen stepped back in shock, but quickly prodded the tree again to confirm we hadn't just gone crazy. A second prod caused a larger chunk of bark to fall off the tree, revealing pulsating, red flesh beneath it. Let's get out of it, I tried to say, but was interrupted by the tree starting to violently shake. Pulling up flesh covered roots from the dirt, causing the ground beneath us to shatter into pieces. Within a second, a large cap formed under our feet, causing us to crash into a pitch black hole below. As we tumbled down, we reached out our hands for each other, but with no control, we could only hope to soften the blow. But instead of landing safely, I hit my head on a rock sticking out from the wall. And then I passed out.

Once I finally awoke again, it for like hours had passed. It had turned pitch black in the time I was out, and the only thing letting know that I hadn't died was the sound of Jen moaning somewhere. next to me. I fumbled around for my phone. It had fallen out of my pocket and landed in another pool of blood. I checked myself to see if I was the one bleeding, but apart from what I must have been a mild concussion, I was unscathed. My phone still worked, and even without any service, it still functioned as a weak flashlight. It dimly lit up the surrounding cave and revealed a ceiling of dirt and meat above me. It wasn't night. There simply wasn't the sky to light up anything.

Jen lay up against a wall, passed out from the fall. I shone my light at her and almost dropped my phone in shock. She'd been gutted by a sharp root sticking out from the ground, perforating straight through her abdomen. Jen, please, please wake up! I cried as I gently shook her, careful not to worsen her injury. She slowly opened her eyes and yelped in pain. What happened? She asked. Just lie still, Jen.

We fell into the ground. You're hurt. She moved her arms and quickly realized there was a branch sticking out from her belly. Oh my God. Get it out, please. Get it out. She cried as she tried to pull at the roof. It twitched violently in response, putting Jenny into further agony.

Jen. You've got to keep still, please. If you move, you'll only make it worse. But it hurts. It hurts so much. She groaned. I know. I know, but please don't.

I'm going to go find help. We're going to get you out of here, I promise. Just stay still. She grabbed my hand as I tried to stand up. Wait, don't leave. I don't want to be alone. I'm not leaving you. I just need to look for a way out.

I swung the flashlight around the cave, checking for any hole in the ceiling, any possible way we could have fallen in, but the only way seemed to extend deeper into the ground, a small tunnel digging further into the darkness. The entire ground felt muddy in a mixture between dirt, blood, and the occasional fleshy root sticking up, wriggling around as it looked for us. Each root bled, adding to the pool that slowly filled the cave. "'Gen, there's no way to climb out of here. "'I have to check out the tunnel,' I said. "'No, stay. It's not so bad. It's nice. "'Stay together,' she mumbled, drifting in and out of consciousness, delirious from blood loss. "'I'm sorry, Jen. I have to find help,' I said, kissing her on the forehead one last time.

I lay down and started to slowly wriggle my way through the dark tunnel. For each inch I moved, I felt another root reach out, trying to grab me. Something white stuck out from the wall ahead, a fractured bone, sharp enough to cut through my flesh as I moved past it. I yelp quietly in pain, feeling warm blood trickling down my arm. As I bled, the root seemed to extend towards me, desperately trying to go. grab a hold of my newly formed wound, digging themselves inside. The pain was unbearable, but I pulled them out before they got the chance to fester. The cave opened up into a larger cavern, my weak flashlight doing little to illuminate it.

I stood up slowly, almost tripping over while entering, as my foot got caught and something stuck to the ground. It was an arm, half buried in the ground. half digested by its surroundings. Only a few pieces of fat and muscle still attached. Hundreds of mangled bodies scattered around the cavern alongside various personal effects. Phones, glasses, shoes, clothes, backpacks. A flashlight lay next to one of the less digestive bodies,

beside a wallet and something more familiar. A bottle of wine and a ring box. It was the casket I'd buried in preparation for the day, it had fallen down and shattered on a rock, spilling its contents. I pocketed the ring and picked up the flashlight. The wallet lay open on the ground, and I caught a glimpse of the name on the driver's license. It belonged to Jack Geller. Perhaps it's even the one who wrote the letter we'd found earlier.

There was another piece of paper inside the wallet, covered in the same illegible handwriting as before. Dear Sandra, I know this letter won't run. reach you because I'm already joined with a bleeding tree, slowly becoming one with the eternal forest above us. I wish you were here with me to comfort me through the pain. God, I hope it ends soon. But if not, well, each route in this place is made from another person, travellers that got lost in the woods that have become integrated with the hive mind, and very soon I'll be one of them too. I can already hear their thoughts. Only whispers, but they're getting louder.

Soon I know what they're saying. Even now, as I write. Oh, God, no, this isn't what I wanted. Please, no, don't. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. His letter ended abruptly with scribbles that made no sense. I checked around. Among his other possessions, I found a knife and a small shovel.

It then dawned on me that he hadn't full. into a trap like we had, but instead he'd actively dug his way down, looking for a route to join him with the tree. If he could get in, then maybe we could get out. I grabbed his belongings and started crawling back, once more cutting myself on the bone, unable to avoid it. I didn't care about the wounds. I was determined to get Jen out of there, to bring her back to safety, even if it killed me.

Jen and awoken by the time I returned, but the root had grown in size, wrapping around, splitting up into smaller tendrils that actively dug into her chest, even bulging out through her skin. I bent down, ready to cut away the fleshy roots, but she grabbed my hand before I could start. She stared into my eyes, bleeding for me to stop what I was about to do. Jen, come on, look, I know it'll hurt, but I have to cut you. you loose, I said, tears welling up in my eyes. She just looked back at me, and I could see the pain she was suffering from. I pulled out the little box I'd hidden in my pocket, I've opened it,

revealing the ring. I was going to, but I sobbed, unable to bring out the words I practiced for so long before our anniversary. I just hoped she'd understand, and be distracted enough so I could cut the roots. And then she finally spoke. It's nice here. What? Stay with me. Let's just stay here.

She said. A voice tired and completely rid of any emotion. Tears ran down my face, but she no longer cared. She wouldn't let me free her. You'll die if you stay here, Jen. Please, I begged. No, nothing dies here. Nothing is allowed to.

She smiled, revealing tiny roots extending from her mouth. The tree had completely filled her. Even if I tried to cut her free, she'd still be riddled with the things. No, no, I'm getting you the fuck out of here, I yelled. I held her arms down and lifted my knife. against one of the roots. It was surprisingly sharp, considering how old it looked. It easily cut through one of the smaller roots penetrating Jen's chest. She writhed in agony as the connection severed, blood spurting out from the stump of a root, a hollow tube sticking into her chest.

It was her blood. She'd become so intertwined with the tree that killing the roots meant taking Jen with it. Jen's smile vanished, and she started crying. Why are you hurting me? Stop it. I don't want to die. I don't want her. She sobbed. Then I did something I regret to the end of my days.

I had the choice between killing the love of my life or letting her become one with the bleeding tree. Maybe I'm weak. Maybe I'm a coward, but I couldn't take her life. I just couldn't. So, instead, I took the shovel and started digging. I left Jen alone in the dark while I fought for my freedom. For each inch of dirt I removed, more roots and tendrils revealed themselves,

reaching out in an attempt at digging themselves into my bleeding flesh. Another bone, another cut. But I kept going, digging with my spade and cutting with a knife, desperate to see the sunlight once more. Can't say for sure what happened next. It's all hazy and a mixture between blood loss and adrenaline, in surging through my veins, but I remember hitting through the dirt, a ray of moonlight greeting me on the surface, and minutes of crawling away from the bleeding tree to safety.

Despite my severe injuries, I made it to my feet, continuously bleeding as I limped my way towards the car. I dropped my phone somewhere while digging, and only had the moon to guide my way back through the dark, silent forest. Everything seeming grey in the world. Everything seeming grey in the lack of light. And then, at some point along my escape, I just collapsed. That was two months ago.

Since then, I've been in the hospital, in and out of a coma. The doctors tell me I suffered septic shock. Apparently a reoccurring infection kept me at bay until last week when I finally awoke. I called it a miracle,

but it doesn't feel like what. I left the cave to find help, to stop the tree from consuming Jen, but by now her flesh has been torn from her bones, and I can only imagine she's won with it to suffer for all eternity. I couldn't save her from an eternity of pain, and it's all my fault. This is my goodbye. No one should suffer the same fate Jen did, and yet I'm going back. I should have killed her before she got consumed by the roots, but now I can do nothing more than to join her. I'm going back. At least you won't have to suffer alone. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast.

My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favour of you. Wherever you get your podcast wrong, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star if you. as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more.

Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.