Horror Stories - 6 Creepy TRUE Deep Woods Horror Stories That Will Keep You Awake

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Starting point is 00:01:00 nice as taste. Hello everyone and welcome back to horror stories. I know many of you use these episodes to fall asleep so before you drift off, I'd love it if you could leave a comment letting me know where you're listening from around the world. Also, don't forget to like and subscribe if you're enjoying the episodes. Story one. When I think about my childhood, summer's always felt endless. My best friend and I grew up in a quiet New England town where hardly anything ever happened, so the woods were our playground. We'd ride our bikes beyond the town limits, toss them down near the entrance to some trail, and wander until the sun started to set. There was a constant thrill, the feeling that we might stumble onto something hidden, an old cabin,

Starting point is 00:01:57 a forgotten cemetery, anything that would give us a story to tell. One afternoon my dad gave us one of those stories that sticks in your head. He told us about a restaurant that used to be tucked way back in the woods, a place people stopped going to in the 70s. According to him, it had ties to the local mafia. Rumors swirled about people who went missing around that time. Whispers that the bodies ended up dumped in the quarry out back. He swore it was nothing but small town gossip, but he even admitted no one had ever proven otherwise. My friend and I didn't need to hear anything else. We knew immediately we had to find it. For weeks it turned into a kind of obsession. We asked around, dug through old maps, even tried matching overgrown trails with what we

Starting point is 00:02:46 thought had once been old roads. It all felt like a treasure hunt, only instead of gold or pirate ships. We were chasing a place tied to crime stories and ghostly rumors. In early September, we finally found it. The site of the restaurant stopped us in our tracks. The building sagged under the weight of two decades without care, vines crawling up the walls and trees practically hugging the structure. The parking lot had more grass than asphalt, and part of the roof had collapsed on one side, but it still held a strange presence. We circled the property, excited and nervous at the same time. To us, it felt like finding a relic. After walking around for a bit, we pushed open a broken side door.

Starting point is 00:03:32 The first thing that hit us was the air inside. It smelled like damp wood, dust, and something sour that had probably been sitting there for years. We turned on our flip phones. Their small bluish light barely cut through the gloom. The main dining room had rows of broken booths, overturned tables, splinters and glass scattered across the floor. For a while it was so quiet that we started to relax, poking through the mess and laughing when we found things like old menus or a collapsed chair. Then a sound broke the calm,

Starting point is 00:04:07 a dragging noise, not very loud, but enough to freeze us in place. We stared at each other wide-eyed. My friend whispered, Did you hear that? I just nodded because it came from below, somewhere on the lower level. We told ourselves it had to be an animal,

Starting point is 00:04:25 maybe raccoons or something, but neither of us felt calm. Still we went down. The lower floor was darker, colder, and had a strange heaviness to it, like the air hadn't moved in years. A few minutes later, the sound came again, clearer this time, like something sliding down the hallway ahead of us. My friend grabbed my arm and whispered that we should leave. I turned to him to say, maybe we're overreacting. And that was when I saw it.

Starting point is 00:04:57 A figure barely more than a dark shape, crossing from one side of the corridor to the east. other. It was quick, but it was enough. My stomach dropped. We didn't need to say a word. We just ran. Our sneakers thundered up the stairs, over the broken tiles, through the side door and into the woods. By then the sun had already slipped behind the trees, and the forest had gone from welcoming to suffocating. We didn't stop until the building was far behind us. The next morning, though, curiosity dragged us back. This time we moved slower and in silence, as if whoever or whatever was inside could still be there. We retraced our steps to the lower floor, straight to the hallway where I'd seen that shadow. The room told us everything. In one corner were piled bedding,

Starting point is 00:05:49 filthy blankets, worn clothing, shirts that looked like they'd been there for weeks, if not months. The scene made my skin crawl. It hadn't been a ghost or a trick of the light. Someone was living in that building. We decided to get out of there and look for the quarry. It didn't take long to reach a clearing where an enormous rock wall opened up. The kind that from where we stood looked like it had no end. We started walking along it, pointing out graffiti and broken beer bottles scattered by previous visitors.

Starting point is 00:06:24 That was when we heard it. Heavy footsteps behind us close enough that we couldn't mistake them for an animal. Before we could react, a man sprang out from behind the brush. He was older, maybe in his mid-40s with dirty blonde hair falling across his face. His clothes were in rags, his skin sunburned and his eyes wild. He lunged at my friend and slammed him down hard, and instinct took over. I kicked and shoved until he stumbled back. Then he reached into his pants and pulled out a hunting night.

Starting point is 00:06:56 Seeing the blade in the dying light was enough for both of us to bolt into the trees. We didn't look back. We didn't slow down. We ran until my house came into view. We locked the door and sat on the floor shaking, trying to process what had just happened. When my parents got home, we told them, but you could see the disbelief on their faces. They thought we had exaggerated, or that we'd made up the story to scare them. That night, while my friend and I tried to distract ourselves with video games, the backyard floodlight

Starting point is 00:07:31 suddenly snapped on. I went to the back door, heart pounding, and saw the shed door wide open. We always kept it closed. I ran upstairs, shook my dad awake, and begged him to go down and check. annoyed he finally came down with me and went outside. He'd only taken a few steps toward the shed when someone, an older man, burst out from inside and ran straight into the woods. My dad came back into the house yelling for me to call the police. The officers arrived quickly and, after hearing our story, searched the shed. Inside, they found a knife

Starting point is 00:08:08 the same kind the man had shown us earlier. They promised to patrol the area, but weeks passed with no news. Eventually, life moved on, though the fear stayed with us for a long time. Years later, when I was in college, my mom sent me an article. A local man had been found dead in that same abandoned building. The news hit me hard, not just because of the memories, but because the police never found who did it. I'll never know for sure, but I can't shake the idea that it was the same man who chased us all those years ago. Story 2. In February 22, a friend and I decided to go camping for the weekend. We'd already gotten into the habit of doing it a couple of times a month now that my car could finally handle the backroads.

Starting point is 00:09:03 This time we went back to a remote spot we discovered a week earlier. It was the kind of place where you might not see another person for miles, exactly what drew us to it. We arrived Friday night, set up camp, and spent the evening by the fire. Nothing out of the ordinary. Saturday night was when everything went wrong. It was around nine, completely dark. The fire was the only source of light,

Starting point is 00:09:29 and we were halfway through a couple of beers when it started. Out of nowhere a scream ripped through the woods. It wasn't a startled yell or someone joking around. It was raw guttural screaming, the kind that instantly raises the hair on your arms. My friend and I froze, trying to make sense of it. At first, we wanted to believe it was some drunk hiker blowing off steam. But the longer it went on, the clearer it became that it wasn't someone having fun.

Starting point is 00:09:59 It had an edge of rage and misery, like whoever it was had lost their mind. It went on for five straight minutes until it finally stopped. By then we were paranoid. We started gathering anything that could work as a weapon, axes, knives, even big logs from the woodpile. Every crack between the trees had us on edge. Fifteen minutes later, just when we were starting to think the night might settle back down, a glow appeared up the trail, a handheld flashlight and a lantern coming closer. Then a guy walked into our camp.

Starting point is 00:10:36 He was breathing hard, eyes wide, and before we could say a word, he asked if he could sit by the fire for a while. My buddy and I exchanged a quick looks, still gripping our improvised weapons. And in the end we agreed, two against one. The silence became unbearable, so I asked him bluntly what was going on.

Starting point is 00:10:59 That's when he told us his name was Gary, and that the screaming we'd heard was his friend, who, according to Gary, had snapped and tried to kill him. He said they'd gone out together, totally fine, when suddenly his friend lost control, started screaming and lunged at him. Gary said he barely managed to get away, grabbed his keys in his light, and ran. Then he added the detail that turned my stomach. His friend had chased him through the woods. And the moment those words left his mouth, the screaming started again.

Starting point is 00:11:32 This time it was close, so close we could make out the words. Gary, I just want your balance. Give me your balance, Gary. It didn't even sound human anymore. It was a strange mix of guttural growls at an almost sing-song tone, like his friend was caught between laughing and howling. My friend and I killed our lights instantly, crouched down and prayed the maniac wouldn't see the camp.

Starting point is 00:11:59 By some miracle, he kept going down the trail, his voice bouncing between the trees until it faded away. Over the next two hours, Gary told us more. The two of them had taken a strong dose of mushrooms earlier that afternoon, and everything was fine until his friend, let's call him Ty, suddenly went off the rails. Gary was still a little high, shaky but coherent, and he kept repeating that he truly believed Ty wanted to hurt him.

Starting point is 00:12:29 We stayed with him until almost midnight, with the screaming still faintly audible now and then in the distance. Then it stopped. For about an hour there was nothing but the crackle of the fire and the occasional pop of ice shifting in the trees. We thought maybe Ty had wandered off and collapsed somewhere. That hope vanished when a new voice came from the edge of the woods. Help, I'm lost, please.

Starting point is 00:12:54 Gary went rigid immediately and tried to hide. My friend and I stood up, armed and ready. In the firelight, a huge guy stepped into camp, easily over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, with a dazed expression like he didn't really know where he was. He kept saying he was sorry that he blanked out and didn't remember what happened. We didn't let our guard down, but after a tense conversation we decided to walk him back to his own campsite. He seemed calmer, and in the end he sank down next to his tent like he had no energy left.

Starting point is 00:13:28 The night ended without any more screaming, and by morning Gary was ready to leave. He thanked us over and over, gave me his number, and promised he'd let me know when he got home safe. We stayed in touch and were even planning another camping trip. Even so after that night, I'm not sure the woods will ever feel the same again. Story 3. When I was a kid growing up in East Texas, I spent most of my days glued to my older brother. He was seven years older than me. He was already in high school when I was barely around 10.

Starting point is 00:14:09 And since I was homeschooled, I had plenty of time to follow him wherever he went. He always found some excuse to slip off into the woods, usually to hide his cigarettes or chewing tobacco. go from our parents, and I was the constant tag-along. Those woods became our playground, a place where the hours disappeared without us noticing. The land south of our house belonged to a mining company, so technically we weren't supposed to be down there. To the north, though, there were endless woods and pastures. Technically, that was private property, too.

Starting point is 00:14:45 But out in the country, you assume you'll see a farmhouse long before you end up in someone's yard. Most days we didn't go far. Maybe we'd walk an hour in and then turn around. But one afternoon my brother got it in his head that we should keep going until we couldn't anymore. So we did. We crossed pastures, climb barbed wire fences, and pushed through stretches of thick trees. My brother carried a doctor pepper bottle he kept spitting tobacco into, and I kept asking how much farther, but he was determined. At some point we came across a strange pond, almost perfectly circular, with one edge higher than the others. He told me it had been dug out with a tractor, which explained its odd shape. We kept going, and it wasn't long before the woods opened up in a way

Starting point is 00:15:36 I'd never seen before. The clearing curved sharply, and as we followed it, something huge appeared in front of us. A large white building behind a tall fence. There was a wide gate and a dirt road stretching out from it, like it was meant for vehicles to come and go. The creepiest part was that it wasn't abandoned. We could hear voices and movement inside the fenced area. I clearly remember seeing people near the gate. That's when we both froze. It wasn't just that we were trespassing. it was the sudden certainty that whatever this place was, we weren't supposed to know it existed. My brother didn't waste time arguing about it. He told me firmly that we had to leave, and the tone in his voice tied my stomach in a knot.

Starting point is 00:16:24 We bolted. We ran so hard we nearly fell back into the pond, and we didn't stop until we'd crossed every stretch of woods and jumped every fence we could remember. When we finally caught our breath, my brother made me promise I would have to be. wouldn't say a word to our parents about what we'd seen. He knew they'd scold him for taking me that far, but I think he was just as shaken as I was. After that, we kept exploring the woods, but we never went that deep again. Years later, when we were older and my dad had long since caught my brother chewing tobacco, we started telling the story to the family like it was one of

Starting point is 00:17:02 our great adventures. My mom was amazed, but mostly we laughed about it. Over the first of the Over time, it became a running joke. That time, we almost found some secret government research site. Even so, the memory never completely left me. Recently, I pulled up the area on Google Maps, partly to finally close the mystery. I found the pond, the curved tree line, and even the clearings. But the building, nothing.

Starting point is 00:17:31 No road, no fence, no trace of a facility. It didn't make any sense. I called my brother to ask if he still remembered it, and immediately he said yes. He even admitted that at the time it had scared him more than he'd let on. Neither of us can explain it. To this day, I'm haunted by that same uneasy feeling of standing in that clearing, and realizing we'd stumbled onto something we were never meant to find. Story 4.

Starting point is 00:18:06 My mom has a story from her teenage years that stuck with me from the first time she told it. She grew up in Alabama in the early 1970s, and back then her family had very little. She was the oldest of five, three younger sisters and a little baby brother, who was still so small, everyone just called him the baby. My grandfather was strict, but he tried to prepare his kids for the world. He didn't always trust the neighborhoods they ended up living in. So one weekend, he decided to take everyone out into the woods to teach them how to handle a rifle. It wasn't supposed to be anything more than a family self-defense lesson.

Starting point is 00:18:46 It was late fall. The air was biting and the trees were bare, leaving the ground covered in crunchy leaves. They chose a clearing next to an old dirt road near Montevallo, not too far from Birmingham, but far enough out to feel completely isolated. The kids were excited. It was a break from chores in school, and it smelled like adventure. My grandmother went too, probably more to keep an eye on everyone than because she enjoyed it. They hadn't been there long when something started to feel off.

Starting point is 00:19:20 First it was the sound of an engine, faint, just an echo between the trees. Even that was strange. Cars didn't usually come that far in. My grandfather tensed immediately. Even with the rifle, he didn't like surprises, and he signaled everyone to crouch down and stay silent. Before long, a big blue Ford Galaxy appeared between the trees. The engine sounded louder than it should have in that stillness. What happened next is what my mother swears she will never forget.

Starting point is 00:19:52 The man behind the wheel stopped, got out, and without hesitation pulled a woman out of the car. She didn't resist. She didn't even make a sound. He dragged her like she was dead weight and dropped her on the ground as if she meant nothing to him. Then he got back in the car and drove off like it was the most normal thing in the world. The family stayed hidden under the leaves just like my grandfather had ordered, barely breathing, hearts pounding. Then, unbelievably, the woman sat up. She turned her head and looked straight at them.

Starting point is 00:20:27 My mother insists it wasn't a random glance. It was like she'd known they were there the whole time. My grandfather asked if she needed help. She shook her head and said she'd be fine. That was it. No explanation. No asking for anything. No trying to follow them.

Starting point is 00:20:46 Almost like she wanted them to leave. My grandfather didn't argue. He decided immediately that the lesson was over and they started heading back toward the dirt road where their car was parked. But it wasn't over. As they came out, the Blue Ford Galaxy showed up again, driving toward them along the same road.

Starting point is 00:21:06 My mother looked inside and noticed a machete lying on the front seat next to the driver. It was huge and it wasn't hidden. It was placed where anyone could see it. The man slowed down and stopped, smiling like he was just being friendly. He asked my grandfather what they were doing out there. My grandfather held the rifle so the man could clearly see it and calmly answered that they were practicing shooting. The man nodded, told him to have a good day.

Starting point is 00:21:36 and drove on. My mother remembers how calm the whole scene seemed, but underneath that calm, the sight of the machete turned her stomach. The next day my grandfather couldn't get her out of his head and went back to the woods alone. The woman was gone. In her place he found a wig, a purse, some tissues, and a pair of glasses scattered among the leaves. He picked them up and brought them home, which sent my mother into hysterics. She kept screaming that the woman, had been killed, convinced they'd witnessed the beginning of something horrible. My grandfather ended up taking the items to the police, but nothing came of it. No follow-up, no news, nothing. And just when it seemed like the episode might fade into memory, something else happened that

Starting point is 00:22:24 put everyone on edge again. Early the next morning, my grandmother called the house from work. She told the kids not to take the school bus that day. When my mother asked why the answer made her blood run cold. The Blue Ford Galaxy was parked at the bus stop, waiting. Story 5. When I was 14, my family was living in a small town because of one of my dad's work assignments. It wasn't going to be permanent. We were already getting ready to move back to the city at the end of the summer. During that time, I made a friend at school named Lawrence. He liked to act tougher than he really was, but he was fun to be around. And since I'd be moving soon, His parents let me sleep over at his house one weekend.

Starting point is 00:23:15 The next morning, Lawrence told me he'd found something in the woods a couple of miles from his house. It's a cave, he said with a grin. We should go see it. To my 14-year-old brain, it sounded like an adventure. I didn't even think twice. The only thing he admitted later was that he'd never gone inside it. He'd just stumbled across it while wandering around. It took us a while to find it, but it took us a while to find it,

Starting point is 00:23:41 But eventually we came across an opening hidden among trees and brush. From the outside, it didn't look like much. But once we stepped inside, it was clear other people had been there before. Old beer bottles, crumpled chip bags, broken glass, every sign that kids, or maybe adults, used it as a hangout spot. At first I thought that was all it was going to be. But the farther we went in, the worse it got. A heavy sour smell hung in the air

Starting point is 00:24:12 And the ground started to look less like a party spot And more like someone's home There was trash piled against the rock walls A filthy blanket laid out like a bed And a grocery bag that had clearly been used as a bathroom I even saw a few syringes lying around At the time I didn't recognize them But now looking back I know exactly what they were

Starting point is 00:24:36 My stomach dropped This wasn't just a hideout. Someone was living there. That alone was enough to make me uneasy. But what I found next gave me goosebumps. On top of a pile of junk, there was an old photo album. I picked it up and opened it, holding the flashlight in my other hand. The first pictures were black and white, grainy photographs. At first they looked like prison yards, fences, guard towers. Then I turned a page that made my blood run cold, a pile of bodies, people in uniforms with stars on them. I realized I was looking at Holocaust photos. When I went to turn the page, I noticed two pages were stuck together. There was some kind of substance smeared on the paper.

Starting point is 00:25:25 It only took a second for it to click, and when it did, I froze. Whoever had been living in that cave had used those images for that. I remember standing there with the flashlight shaking in my hand with the horrible feeling that I was staring straight into someone's twisted mind. I turned to Lawrence and for once I didn't care if he thought I was scared or a coward. I said, we need to leave right now. He didn't argue, which told me he was just as affected as I was. In fact, he'd seen something worse.

Starting point is 00:25:59 He told me that in another album he'd found, there were photos of women tied up in gathers. gagged. And among those images, one of a child with a severely burned face. As if that weren't enough, he swore he'd heard coughing deeper inside the cave, like someone was actually in there. We didn't stay to confirm it. We bolted out of that cave and didn't stop running until we got back to his house. We were both pale and shaken, barely able to talk about it. Later that same day, we finally told his parents everything. They called the police and yes, they were. the officers went out there. But when they searched the cave, all they found was trash. No albums,

Starting point is 00:26:40 no blankets, no syringes, nothing. To this day, I don't know what we ran into, but I can never forget the smell, those photographs. And the sick feeling that someone might have been only a few feet deeper in the cave while we were in there. Story six. That night started like any birthday in a small town. A handful of friends hanging out and being idiots in Nick's backyard. His house sat right on the edge of the woods, far enough from the neighbors that it felt like the world belonged only to us. Nick had a hot tub tucked up against the tree line, and after a few hours of beers, dumb anecdotes, and painfully bad jokes, someone, probably Sarah, suggested we get in naked as a birthday gift. We laughed, nervous, pretending we were way too responsible for something like that.

Starting point is 00:27:38 But the mix of alcohol and bravado won out. Before long we were stripping, trying to ignore the deep shadows of the woods behind the yard, and sliding into the hot water, feeling like kings of the world in our little private hideout. At first it was perfect. The night air smelled faintly of pine and cold dew. The warm water wrapped around our chill. skin, and the forest behind us felt distant, like another world we weren't allowed to peek into. We joked, told stories, splashed each other. Every little noise in the trees felt like part of

Starting point is 00:28:16 the night's atmosphere. Branches cracking under some step made us glance toward the shadows now and then, but nothing seemed threatening, until the scream. It came out of nowhere, sharp, piercing, with a raw intensity that raised the hair on my arms. It wasn't a drunk person yelling. It wasn't a wild animal. It was human, and at the same time it wasn't. The sound reverberated through the trees and across the water of the hot tub. For a second it felt like the entire yard held its breath.

Starting point is 00:28:52 We went rigid. Even Nick, who always played the tough guy, froze. For a long moment, we just stared at the same. into the woods, too scared to breathe, while Mary fumbled for her phone. She turned on the flashlight and carefully aimed it into the darkness, and for a moment nothing moved. Then we saw it, eyes reflecting in the distance, behind Sarah, and a pale-shaped sliding just enough to leave no doubt. That was all it took. We scrambled out of the hot tub however we could, dripping water, not thinking about towels or clothes, shouting and tripping over roots.

Starting point is 00:29:31 We ran for the back door. Nick grabbed a kitchen knife, and in a panic we shut and locked every door and window. The woods stayed alive with sound, harsh breathing, brush rubbing, and every so often the dry snap of a branch, like something was watching and tracking our movements. We huddled together, shaking, trying to make sense of what had just happened. When it hit us how close we'd been to whatever was out there, we remembered the phones, purses, keys, everything had been left near the edge of the woods. They were useless now.

Starting point is 00:30:07 We tried not to think about it, but every little noise made us jump. About half an hour later, another scream sounded, this time closer, and almost immediately after there were soft, deliberate knocks on the doors. Sarah started crying, and I could see panic on everyone's faces. The darkness outside felt alive, pressing against the windows, feeding on our fear. Nick finally ran out to meet his parents who were coming back home. When they arrived, we told them what happened as best we could, but they didn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary. We stayed in the basement, wrapped in blankets and silence,

Starting point is 00:30:47 hearing now and then the crack of a branch or a distant rustle, in the yard. Every minute felt like an hour. Every shadow on the wall felt like a possible intruder. Eventually the night quieted down and we slept in broken pieces, waking up as soon as the first light showed. With the sun up, we went outside to collect our things from the yard. Everything was there, except Nick's T-shirt and Sarah and Mary's underwear, which had vanished without a trace. Nothing else looked disturbed. We found no footprints, no sign of another person in the yard, and no explanation for the screams. Even now, years later, remembering that night sends a chill through me.

Starting point is 00:31:32 It was the perfect mix of teenage recklessness and pure terror, a night when the woods themselves felt alive and alert. No one has ever been able to explain what we saw, what we heard, or what we felt. And for the rest of our lives, every time we pass those trees or see the edge of a forest at night, the memory of those screams and those eyes lurking in the dark comes back with us.

Horror Stories - 6 Creepy TRUE Deep Woods Horror Stories That Will Keep You Awake

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