Just Creepy: Scary Stories - Best Scary Stories for Halloween (2024) | Deep Woods, Camping, Forest

Episode Date: October 25, 2024

These are 5 Best Scary Stories for Halloween (2024) | Deep Woods, Camping, Forest Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: ►Sent in to https://www.justcreepy.net/ Timestamps: 00:00 Intro 00:00:18 Story 1 00:09:52 Story 2 00:27:57 Story 3 00:44:40 Story 4 00:55:32 Story 5 Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #horrorstories #halloween #deepwoods #forest 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀

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Kids and costumes raced down the sidewalks, their candy buckets swinging with every step. Everyone seemed to love it, except my wife Rachel. Ever since I met Rachel, she's never liked Halloween. In fact, she acted like it didn't even exist. Back when we were dating, she'd always come up with some excuse to skip parties or gatherings. I have a headache, she'd say. Or, I think I'm coming down with something. At first I believed her.

I mean, everyone gets sick sometimes, right? But after a while, it started to feel, off. Now that we were married and had a little girl, Lily, I thought things would change. But every Halloween, Rachel stayed the same. While I carved pumpkins and decorated the yard, she stayed inside, avoiding the whole thing like it was a plague. I never understood it, and this year I was determined to find out why. ready to go lily i asked helping my daughter into her sparkly princess costume she twirled in the mirror her face lighting up with excitement at only three years old she was already obsessed with halloween probably because i made such a big deal about it i smiled at her but a glance at rachel sitting silently in the corner made my smile fade rachel sat by the window staring out at the darkening sky she looked pale her hands gripping the edge of the chair like she was a little bracing for something.

You coming with us this year? I asked, trying to keep my tone light. Rachel turned to me, her eyes wide and nervous. I'm not feeling well, she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. I sighed. You always say that, Rachel. Every year. What's really going on?

I told you I don't feel good, she said again, this time a bit sharper. Her gaze drifted back to the window, as if something out there had her attention. A chill ran down my spills. fine, though I wasn't sure why. You seemed fine all day, I pressed, frustrated now. Come on, it's just Halloween, it's fun. Lily would love for you to come with us. Rachel flinched slightly at my words, her eyes darting toward Lily, who was now playing

with her candy bucket. I can't, she whispered, her voice shaking. Please, just take her and go. I'll stay here. It was like she was terrified. I couldn't figure it out. I didn't want to argue. you in front of Lily, so I let out a long breath and nodded. Fine, but this can't go on forever,

Rachel. We're a family. You need to be a part of this. Rachel didn't respond. Instead, she stood up, wrapped her arms around Lily in a tight hug, and kissed her on the forehead. I love you, sweetie. Have fun tonight, she said, her voice trembling. As we headed out the door, I glanced back at Rachel. She stood there watching us go. Her face and a mixture of fear and something else. Something I couldn't quite place. But what could be so bad about Halloween? We weren't out trick-or-treating for long before Lily tripped and scraped her knee.

She tried to be tough, but the tears came fast, and before I knew it, we were headed back home. We rounded the corner to our street, and that's when I saw it. Our bedroom light was on. Rachel had said she was going to bed, that she wasn't feeling well. But clearly she hadn't gone to sleep like she said. I wasn't just frustrated anymore. I was angry. It wasn't just the Halloween thing. It was the lying. The secrets. What could she be hiding? I helped Lily inside, cleaned up her knee, and set her in front of the TV with her favorite cartoon.

Then I headed upstairs, my heart pounding harder with each step. When I reached the top of the stairs, I froze. There it was again. That voice. Rachel was talking to someone. The door to our bedroom was closed, but I could hear her clearly, whispering in a low, urgent tone. My mind raced. Who could be in there with her? Who could she be talking to at this hour with the door locked and the lights off? I stepped closer, pressing my ear against the door.

My blood ran cold. The voice on the other side didn't sound right. It was Rachel's voice, but at the same time it wasn't. There was something wrong with it. something darker, like it was being twisted by something I couldn't see. Rachel! I knocked on the door, my voice loud and shaky. Rachel, what's going on?

Open the door! The whispering stopped. There was silence for a long moment, and then the light under the door flickered out. My heart pounded in my chest. I tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge, locked. Rachel! I pounded harder. Open the door. Now!

A few more seconds of dead silence passed, and then I heard a soft click. The door creaked open and Rachel stepped out. My breath caught in my throat. She looked horrible. Her skin was pale, paler than usual, and her eyes were hollow, like she hadn't slept in days. Her hair hung limp around her face, and she trembled as she stood there in the doorway. You shouldn't be home yet, she whispered, her voice barely audible. You need to leave.

Leave? I repeated, staring at her in disbelief. What are you talking about? Who were you talking to? Her eyes flickered toward the bedroom, but she didn't answer. I followed her gaze, my stomach twisting in knots. Rachel, what's going on? I asked. My voice quieter now, filled with dread. She hesitated, glancing at the floor. You need to know the truth, she whispered, finally meeting my eyes.

I was supposed to die, Ethan, years ago in that car accident. I was supposed to die. I stared at her, not understanding. But something... Something saved me, she continued, her voice shaking, and every Halloween it comes back to collect its payment. Just then, from inside the bedroom I heard it. Three slow, heavy knocks on the closet door.

The knocks echoed in the silence, slow and deliberate, each one sending a cold chill down my spine. My legs felt frozen and I couldn't move. I stared at the bedroom door, my heart racing, trying to make sense of what Rachel had just told me. Something saved her? And now it wanted payment? Rachel, what was that?

I whispered, though I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. Her eyes filled with tears, and her whole body was trembling. I told you, she said, her voice barely a whisper. It's here. It comes every Halloween, and tonight it wants more. I took a step back, fear twisting in my chest. more what do you mean before rachel could answer the closet door inside our bedroom creaked open slowly my stomach flipped as a cold gust of air rushed from the room making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end out of the darkness stepped a tall shadowy figure it was cloaked in tattered black robes its face hidden beneath a hood but i could feel its eyes watching me burning through the darkness the figure's breath rasped like dry leaves scraping against the ground. I couldn't see its face, but I knew it was grinning. Somehow,

I just knew. Rachel backed away from the figure, her hands shaking. Please, she begged, her voice breaking. Not tonight, not yet. The figure didn't answer. It just lifted one long, bony hand and pointed at Rachel. A strange, cold energy filled the room, and I could feel the air thickening with tension. My legs were locked in place, but my mind screamed for me to run. Rachel turned toward me, her face a mask of fear and pain. I can't fight it anymore, Ethan. It's too late. You have to take Lily and leave. I shook my head. I'm not leaving you here with that thing. Her eyes were wide, pleading. You don't understand. If you don't go, it'll take both of you. Please just take Lily and run. But I couldn't move.

I didn't want to leave her. My wife, who I thought I knew, was standing there, facing this impossible horror alone. The figure stepped closer to Rachel, its fingers reaching for her, and as soon as they touched her skin, I watched in horror as she began to wither. Her face became pale, her skin stretched tight, and her eyes sunk deep into her face. It was like she was aging in front of me, her life being drained away with each touch. I shouted, but Rachel turned to me with one last glance, her lips trembling in a weak, sad smile. Run! I bolted out of the room, racing down the stairs with my heart pounding so hard I thought it might

burst. I grabbed Lily from the couch, threw her into my arms, and ran out the front door, not daring to look back. As I sped down the driveway, I caught a glimpse of the upstairs window. Rachel, or what was left of her, stood in the window, watching us, and next to her, the dark figure loomed, grinning down at us like it had all the time in the world. It would be back. Who cares about your poops? Ollie does. That's why Ali's science-backed gut health lineup helps support your family's regularity.

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and I didn't want to spoil it. Dressed as an angel, complete with wings made of glitter and tool, she bounced in her seat as I parked the car. Daddy, do you think Mommy will be there? Emma, asked, her wide eyes staring at me hopefully. It was the same question she asked every time we did something special, and every time I gave her the same answer, knowing full well it was a lie. I'm sure she's watching over us, sweetie, I said, forcing a smile. It was easier than explaining the truth. Lila wasn't watching us. She was gone, and no amount of wishing was going to bring her back. We stepped out of the car, the crunch of gravel under our feet the only sound in the empty parking lot. Ahead of us, the school was lit up with orange and purple lights, pumpkins lining the walkway.

I could hear kids laughing from inside the gym, but something felt off. The air was thick with an unsettling chill that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I shook it off. It was just a Halloween carnival, nothing more. Inside, the gym was packed. Kids dressed as witches, ghosts, and superheroes darted between games and snack tables. There was laughter. music and the smell of popcorn, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. I tried to ignore it, watching Emma as she ran off to find her friends. Daddy, I'm going to play, she called, already disappearing into the crowd of kids.

I nodded, giving her a small wave, but my mind was elsewhere. I scanned the room, my eyes drawn to the windows at the far end of the gym. Beyond the glass, the parking lot was dark, and something about it made me uneasy. I forced myself to focus on the carnival. The decorations were simple, plastic spiders, fake cobwebs, and cardboard cutouts of pumpkins. But every now and then, the lights flickered just for a second. Each time I found myself looking toward the doors, half expecting to see what exactly. I didn't know, but the sense of being watched gnawed at me.

I wandered over to the snack table, grabbing a cup of punch. As I took a sip, I noticed Emma standing by the wall. window, staring outside. Her face was pale, and she wasn't smiling anymore. Emma? I called, making my way over to her. What are you doing, sweetie? She didn't turn to look at me. Her eyes were locked on something in the darkness outside. Mommy's out there, she whispered. A chill ran down my spine. I followed her gaze, squinting into the blackness beyond the window. At first I saw nothing but the faint outline of cars in the parking lot. But then I noticed something. under the flickering streetlight, a figure stood completely still. Too still, I blinked, my heart

pounding in my chest. The light flickered again, and the figure was gone. The noise of the carnival started to fade as I made my way down the dimly lit hallway leading to the school's basement. The event coordinator had asked me to grab more candy from the storage room, and I'd agreed, hoping the task would calm the uneasiness gnawing at me. But now, walking alone, the slothed, silence pressed in around me, and I felt that same creeping dread from earlier crawling up my spine. The basement door creaked when I opened it, and the stairwell beyond was dark. Only a single flickering light bulb hung from the ceiling at the bottom of the stairs, casting long shadows that seemed to dance and shift.

I took a deep breath and started down, my footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. The air down here was colder, damp, and it smelled faintly of mildew. Each step felt heavier, like something was pulling me back, but I kept going. The storage room was at the far end of the basement, just past the old gym lockers and unused sports equipment. I fumbled for the light switch as I entered the room, but nothing happened. Great. The light was out. I pulled out my phone, using its flashlight to search for the candy. As I scanned the shelves, I heard something. It was faint, like a distant whisper. but enough to make me freeze in place. My heart thudded in my chest as I listened,

straining to hear it again. Silence. Just my imagination, I told myself. Get the candy and get out. I found the boxes of candy and hoisted one into my arms. As I turned to leave, the sound returned, this time louder. It wasn't a whisper anymore. It was a scratching noise, like nails dragging across the concrete floor behind me. I spun around. My phone light sweeping across the room. There was nothing there. My breath came in quick, shallow bursts as I backed toward the door. But the scratching continued, growing closer, more insistent. It was right behind me now. I bolted for the stairs the candy forgotten, my mind screaming at me to run. The moment my foot hit the first step, the lights in the stairwell flickered,

and everything went dark. I could hear it now, footsteps, slow and deliberate, coming from the shadows at the bottom of the stairs. They were uneven, like whoever or whatever was walking, had a limp, dragging one foot behind the other. I forced myself to keep moving, gripping the railing so tight my knuckles turned white. Halfway up the stairs, the lights blinked back on, and I dared to glance back. There, at the base of the stairs, stood a figure, shrouded in darkness. It was tall and twisted, its limbs too long, its head cocked unnaturally to the side. as if its neck was broken. It didn't move, but I could feel its eyes on me. I didn't wait to see what it would do next. I sprinted up the remaining steps, slammed the door behind

me, and leaned against it, gasping for breath. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't human. When I got back to the carnival, everything felt wrong. The noise inside the gym had died down to a low murmur, and the lights seemed dimmer than before, casting strange, shifting shadows on the the walls. It was colder, too, much colder. I scanned the crowd for Emma, my heart racing from what I'd seen in the basement. I tried to tell myself it was just a trick of the light, or my mind playing games, but I couldn't shake the image of that twisted figure at the bottom of the stairs. I couldn't see Emma anywhere. Panic began to rise in my chest as I wove through the crowd, looking for her familiar white angel costume. Emma! I called out my voice cracking.

No response. I spotted some kids gathered near the windows by the playground, all of them staring outside completely still. My stomach churned with dread. Pushing through the crowd, I made my way to them, and then I saw her. Emma was standing by the window, staring out into the dark night just like the other kids. Her face was pale, and she wasn't moving, not even blinking. Emma! I rushed to her, grabbing her shoulders gently. Sweetheart, what are you doing? What's wrong? She didn't look at me. Her eyes were fixed on something outside. I turned to see what she was staring at, and my blood turned to ice. Under the flickering streetlight, at the far edge of the playground, stood a figure. At first, I thought it was just someone in a costume, someone playing a cruel prank. But the longer I looked, the more I realized how wrong it was. Its head was tilted at an unnatural angle, like its neck had been broken, and its body. its limbs. They were too long, too thin, like the bones inside had been snapped and twisted out of

place. It stood completely still, just watching. My heart pounded in my chest, a voice in my head screaming at me to grab Emma and run, but I was frozen in place. Then it moved. In one swift, jerky motion, it took a step forward, and that's when I saw it, its face. My breath caught in my throat. The face looked like my wife, Lila. But it wasn't her. It couldn't be. Lila was gone, but this thing, it had her eyes, her smile, only twisted into something monstrous. Michael, the voice that came from the figure was wrong. It was Lila's voice, but hollow, warped, like it was coming from a broken speaker. Come with me, Michael, bring Emma. We can be together again. I stumbled back pulling Emma with me.

She was still staring at the figure like she was in a trance. The other kid started moving toward it, drawn to the thing wearing Lila's face. I watched in horror as one boy stepped outside. The creature grabbed him, its long spindly fingers twisting around him. He let out a scream, but it was cut off as his body went limp, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut. I turned and ran dragging Emma with me. We had to get out of there before it got us too. I slammed the gym door behind us, my heart pounding in my ears.

Emma clung to my arm, her face pale, eyes wide with fear. I had no idea what that thing outside was, but I knew we had to hide. The other parents and kids were scattered, some screaming, some frozen in place, trying to make sense of the nightmare unfolding around them. But I didn't have time to think. We had to move. We need to find a place to hide, I whispered to. Emma, my voice shaking. Come on, let's go.

The gym echoed with shouts as the kids who had followed the creature outside scrambled back in, terror etched on their faces. Whatever was out there wasn't stopping. I could hear it moving closer, its slow, jerky steps echoing through the night. The thought of those spindly fingers wrapping around us made my skin crawl. I spotted a hallway leading to the back of the school and pulled Emma with me. We raced down the dimly lit corridor, our footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. Doors on either side of us were locked or barricaded.

I didn't have time to check every room. Finally, we reached the janitor's closet at the end of the hall. I threw open the door and shoved Emma inside before quickly following and locking it behind us. The closet was small, cramped, and smelled of bleach and old rags. I leaned against the door, gasping for breath, trying to see a little. steady my shaking hands. Emma stood in the corner, hugging herself, her eyes still wide with shock. Daddy, she whispered, her voice trembling. Is mommy really out there? My stomach twisted. How could I explain this to her? How could I make her understand that the thing we saw wasn't her mother?

I knelt in front of her, taking her hands in mine. No, sweetie, that's not mommy. I know it looks like her, and I know it sounds like her, but it's not. Mommy's... She's gone. She's not coming back. Emma blinked, tears welling up in her eyes. But she talked to me. She called my name.

I felt a lump in my throat, guilt weighing heavily on me. All those years of telling Emma that her mom was still watching over us, those lies were coming back to haunt me. I'm so sorry, I whispered, barely holding back my own tears. I lied to you. Mommy's gone, and we have to stay safe now. We have to be strong. Suddenly, there was a loud crash from down the hallway, followed by the sickening sound of something scraping against the floor.

I pressed my ear to the door, heart racing. It was coming for us. The scraping grew louder, and then, a voice. Michael, Emma. The voice was twisted, but still Lila's, calling for us from the darkness. Let me in. Emma started to move toward the door, but I grabbed her, pulling her back. No, Emma, I whispered urgently. It's not her. Don't listen.

The door rattled, and I held my breath. The thing outside started pounding, harder and harder. I didn't know how long the door would hold. Then just as suddenly as it started, the pounding stopped. Silence filled the air. But I knew better than to think it was over. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't giving up. It was just waiting, and so were we trapped in the dark, with only the thin door standing between us and the nightmare outside.

The pounding stopped, leaving the air thick with silence, but the sense of dread clung to me like a cold sweat. My breath was shallow, and my heart raced as I strained to hear anything outside the janitor's closet. Emma clung to my arm, trembling, her small fingers digging into my skin. For a moment I allowed myself to hope. Maybe it had left, maybe we were safe, but deep down I knew better. It wasn't gone. It was waiting. Suddenly there was a crash from the far end of the hallway.

The door to the gym had been blown open, and I heard terrified screams from the few survivors still inside. That thing was tearing through the school, hunting anyone who remained. I pulled Emma close, whispering, We're going to get out of here, okay? I promise. But you have to stay quiet and stick close to me. She nodded. her eyes wide with fear, but she was brave. She had to be. I eased the door open a crack,

peeking out into the hallway. It was dim, the only light coming from the emergency exit signs glowing faintly at the end of the corridor. The creature was nowhere in sight, but I could hear the sound of it moving, its twisted jerking steps scraping against the floor tiles. This was our chance. If we could make it to the exit, we might have a shot. Come on, Emma, I whispered, taking her hand and leading her into the hallway. We moved as quietly as possible, every creak of the floor beneath our feet making my heart jump. The screams from the gym were growing louder, and I knew we had to move fast. We crept down the hallway, my eyes darting in every direction. The exit door was just ahead. I could almost feel the cool air of freedom

waiting for us beyond it. But just as we reached the door, a low, rasping voice echoed from behind us. Michael, Emma, wait for me. I turned to see it, her, the thing that wore Lila's face, broken and twisted, its limbs bending at unnatural angles, dragging itself down the hall toward us. Its hollow eyes locked onto mine, and its mouth stretched into a gruesome smile. Come back, we can be together. The voice, Lila's voice, slithered from its mouth. Emma gasped, and I could feel her grip tightening on my hand.

My heart pounded in my chest as I pushed open the exit door. We stumbled out into the cold night, the fog thick around us, but we weren't safe yet. I glanced back, and the creature was almost at the door, its long, jagged fingers reaching for us. It was faster than before, like it knew we were about to slip from its grasp. Run! I yelled, pulling Emma with me as we sprinted toward the parking lot. The fog was thick, but through it I could see the faint outline of our car. My lungs burned and my legs ached, but I didn't dare stop. I could hear the creature's footsteps behind us, faster and louder, its grotesque body closing in.

We reached the car and my hands shook as I fumbled with the keys. I could hear it now, just feet away, its breath raspy, its voice taunting. Don't leave me. Finally, I jammed the key into the lock, yanking the door open. I shoved Emma inside and scrambled into the door. driver's seat. The creature's hand slammed against the window, its fingers dragging down the glass, leaving streaks of blackened blood. Its face was pressed against the window, grinning at me with those dead eyes. I turned the key, and the engine roared to life. Hold on, Emma, I shouted,

slamming my foot down on the gas. The tires screeched as the car lurched forward, and I swerved out of the parking lot. The creature's hand slid off the window, and I caught a final glimpse of it standing there in the fog, watching us as we sped away into the night. For a few minutes, neither of us said anything. My heart was still racing, my hands trembling on the wheel. I glanced over at Emma. She was staring straight ahead, her face pale, but she was safe. We had made it, barely. As we drove farther away from Black Hollow, the fog began to lift, and the stars appeared overhead. The nightmare was behind us now, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't truly over. That thing. It wasn't just a monster. It knew us. It knew how to hurt us.

Emma broke the silence. Daddy, was that really, mommy? I swallowed hard, glancing at her. No, sweetheart, I said, my voice hoarse. That wasn't her. She nodded slowly, her eyes filled with a sadness beyond her years. I miss her. I do too, I whispered, fighting back the tears. As we disappeared into the night, I couldn't help but wonder, would we ever truly escape? Or had that thing already left its mark on us, forever chasing us in the shadows? But for now, we were alive. And October will never be the same. Spring just slid into your DMs.

Grab that boho look for that rooftop dinner, those sandals that can keep up with you, and hang some string lights to give your patio a glow up. Spring's calling. Ross, work your magic. I didn't think much of the trail at first, just another forgotten path winding through the woods, choked with weeds and underbrush, the kind that makes you wonder how long it's been since anyone cared to walk it. But Mia did. She stood there, staring at it like it was something more than just a stretch of dirt and broken branches. Her eyes narrowed, lips pressed tight,

like she could sense something I couldn't. Maybe we should just stick to the main trail, she said, her voice unusually flat. I shook my head, flashing her a grin. Come on, Mia, where's your sense of adventure? It's Halloween, perfect time for a little mystery, don't you think? She hesitated, her hand brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face, eyes flicking toward the woods like she was listening for something. Mia's always been cautious, way more than me, but that's part of why I like her. She balances out my reckless streak. Still, I could tell something about this trail wasn't sitting right with her. It's not on the map, Alex, she finally said her voice low. Shouldn't that be a red flag? I glanced at the old trail marker, faded and half rotten, barely visible beneath the

creeping moss. If anything, that made it more intriguing. Exactly. Means no one else is dumb enough to take it. Come on, Mia. We'll be back before dark. She sighed, but the tension in her shoulders softened. Fine, but if we get lost, I'm blaming you. I laughed and led the way. The path wasn't easy. I'll admit that. The farther we went, the more the underbrush tried to trip us up, thorny vines reaching for our legs like nature's own booby traps. The air was thick and still, like the woods were holding their breath, waiting for something. But I kept going, pushing back the strange sense that we were walking into something we shouldn't. An hour in, the uneasiness started creeping up on me too.

Mia hadn't said much, which wasn't like her. Every now and then, she glanced back the way we came, her face pale, eyes flicking through the trees like she was expecting something, or someone, to be there. Do you hear that? she asked suddenly. Her voice barely above a whisper. I stopped, straining to listen. Nothing. The woods were dead silent.

no wind, no birds, not even the rustle of leaves. It was like the forest itself had gone still. No, I said slowly. What are you hearing? She shook her head, brow furrowed. I don't know, maybe it's nothing. We kept moving, but something had shifted. The silence pressed in on us, thick and oppressive, like a weight on our backs. Then I saw it, the obelisk. It stood off to the side of the trail, half hidden behind twisted trees, an ancient stone pillar covered in strange carvings. Moss clung to its surface, and at its base, a pile of shoes, watches, and bits of tattered clothing lay scattered, like some kind of offering. Mia froze beside me. Alex, what the hell is that? I didn't have an answer. My heart thudded in my chest as I stepped closer, reaching out to touch one

of the shoes. It was worn, scuffed, and covered in dirt, and it was far too modern to belong here. A cold shiver crawled up my spine. We need to go back, Mia said. Her voice trembling now. I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped. For the first time since we stepped onto that trail, I wasn't so sure anymore. The silence broke with the sound of a twig snapping behind us. Mia was right. We should have turned back when we saw that damned obelisk. I see that now, clear as day. But at the time, something inside me, pride, maybe, kept pushing us forward. I didn't want to be the guy who backed down because of some eerie pile of shoes in a weird stone. But things were different now.

The air felt heavier, colder. It wasn't just the evening chill. It was something else, something pressing down on us. We've been walking for hours, Alex. This trail, it's wrong, Mia said, her voice low and tight with fear. I glanced at her, her face was pale, her eyes wide, darting toward the trees. We were lost, that much was clear. The trail had become a twisted version of itself, narrowing and darkening with every step. What once felt like a fun off-map adventure now felt like a trap, closing in around us. We'll figure it out, I said, but the confidence in my voice wasn't.

wasn't fooling anyone, not even me. The woods were so silent it felt unnatural. No birds, no rustling leaves, not even the distant hum of insects. It was as if the whole forest had gone still, waiting for something. The trees themselves seemed to shift, their twisted limbs reaching out like bony fingers. I glanced at my compass, hoping to get my bearings, but the needle spun in lazy circles, useless. Great, I muttered under my breath. What? Mia snapped, her nerves fraying at the edges.

The compass isn't working, I admitted, trying to sound calm like I could fix this, but I couldn't. That's it. We're turning around, she said, her voice trembling. I don't care if it takes all night. We're getting out of here. I nodded, not bothering to argue this time. I didn't want to stay out here either. But when we retraced our steps, the path behind us.

wasn't the same. The trees, the underbrush, they'd changed, shifting in ways I couldn't explain. We should have seen the obelisk again, but it was gone. Every landmark we'd passed earlier, disappeared, replaced by unfamiliar terrain. Mia grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin, were going in circles. This place, she paused, swallowing hard. This place doesn't want us to leave. I opened my mouth to tell her she was being paranoid, but I couldn't. She was right. There was something about this forest that felt alive, like it was shifting and moving around us, keeping us in its grip. The more we walked, the more the trail twisted and narrowed, until it felt like we were walking through a tunnel of trees, the branches closing in,

blocking out the last of the fading light. Then we heard it. A soft, distant whisper like wind moving through the trees, but it wasn't the wind. It was voices, faint, unintelligible, but unmistakably human, and they were getting closer. Did you hear that? I whispered, my mouth dry. Mia nodded, her face pale as a ghost. We need to move. Now. We turned and hurried down the trail, but no matter how fast we walked, the whispers followed us, louder, closer, her, like they were circling us. I stole a glance over my shoulder and that's when I saw it, figures, shadowy and indistinct moving through the trees just at the edge of my vision. I stopped dead in my tracks.

Mia. But when I turned back, she was gone, as if she'd vanished into the trees without a sound. My heart pounded in my chest, a cold creeping terror gripping me as the whispers closed in, circling like vultures. "'Mia!' I shouted, "'my voice swallowed by the suffocating silence of the woods. "'The trail behind me was nothing but darkness. "'I stood frozen, staring into the blackness "'where Mia had been just moments before.

"'My heart thundered in my chest, "'panic flooding my veins. "'She couldn't have just vanished, not like that. "'Mia!' I shouted again, "'my voice cracking. "'The woods swallowed the sound, "'giving nothing back but the same unnatural, silence. I turned in a circle, frantic, shining my flashlight into the thick wall of trees.

Shadows danced at the edge of the beam, twisting like something alive, but no sign of her. Just more darkness, more of the same. She was gone. The whispers were back, louder now, wrapping around me, filling the air with a low hum. I strained to understand them, but they were just out of reach, as if they weren't meant for human ears. My pulse quickened. I had to find her. I took a shaky step forward, then another. The trail was nothing more than a threadbare path now, barely visible underfoot, but it didn't matter any more. I wasn't following the trail. I was following the whispers. They were leading me somewhere, pulling me deeper into the woods, and I didn't have a choice but to follow. The trees thickened around me, their branches clawing at my jacket, snagging on my clothes like they were trying to hold me back. I kept moving, though, the light from my flashlight barely cutting through the suffocating darkness. The whispers grew louder with every step, shifting and merging into something almost familiar. Voices. My voice. And Mia's.

Suddenly the ground gave way beneath my feet. I stumbled forward, sliding down a steep, rocky slope, my flashlight tumbling from my hand. The fall felt like it lasted forever, dirt and rocks scraping against me, roots snagging at my limbs. When I finally came to a stop, I was lying at the mouth of a large, gaping cavern. I picked myself up, wincing as pain shot through my arm. The flashlight was gone, swallowed by the darkness. I could feel the weight of the cavern pressing in on me, heavy and damp. And then I saw it, a faint, pulsing glow deep within the cave. I didn't want to go in. Every instinct told me to run, to turn back and find another way out of this nightmare. But I couldn't leave Mia, not without knowing.

I stepped inside, my breath echoing off the stone walls. The air was thick and stale, carrying a faint metallic scent that reminded me of blood. The glow ahead grew brighter, revealing the chamber at the heart of the cave. My feet stopped cold. Skeletons, dozens of them, some hanging from the ceiling by rober. of flesh-like sinew, others scattered across the floor in grotesque poses. Their empty eyes seemed to watch me, accusing me of something I couldn't understand. In the center of the chamber stood a massive, grotesque statue, half human, half something else, with hollow eyes and a gaping mouth.

It seemed to pulse with a life of its own, and at its feet lay something I almost missed. A small leather-bound journal. I knelt down, hands trembling, and picked it up. The pages were brittle, the writing frantic, desperate. It told of a man who had walked this same path, lost and confused, just like me. The last few entries were a blur of fear, ramblings about an ancient force in the woods, something that fed on fear and despair. Something called The Lost One. A sudden noise behind me snapped me back to the present, footsteps, slow, deliberate. I turned slowly, my heart in my throat. Mia? I whispered, but I knew better.

Whatever was standing in the shadows wasn't Mia. It stepped forward, just enough for me to see the twisted grin, the hollow, glowing eyes. The whispers that had followed me through the woods filled the chamber, deafening now. And then it lunged. The thing that came out of the shadows wasn't Mia, not even close. My body froze, every muscle locked in place as the figure stood. stepped into the faint glow of the chamber.

Its grin was too wide, too stretched, like the skin on its face had been pulled tight over bones that didn't quite fit. Its eyes, black, hollow, empty, seemed to swallow the light. And yet somehow I knew it was watching me, studying me, like it knew exactly what I was thinking. I backed up, my breath shallow, my heart hammering against my ribs. My hand brushed the cold stone of the chamber wall. but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run.

Mia? I whispered, barely able to get the word out. My voice cracked in the thick, heavy air. The thing didn't respond, but the whispering in my head grew louder. The voices merging and twisting until I could hear Mia's voice, distorted, overlapping with my own. You can't leave. The figure stepped closer, its movements jerky, unnatural. My legs trembled, but I held my ground. fighting the instinct to turn and bolt.

I didn't know what this thing was, the lost one the journal had called it. But I knew one thing, it fed on fear, and I was giving it exactly what it wanted. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe, to stay calm. I wasn't going to die here, not like this. I glanced around the chamber, searching for anything I could use, anything at all.

The skeletons on the floor, the grotesque statue looming over me. It all felt like part of a sick, twisted game. The journal's final words echoed in my head. The only way to survive is to confront it. I took a step forward, forcing myself to meet the thing's hollow gaze. My mind screamed at me to run, but my body wouldn't budge. Where is she? I demanded, my voice steadier than I felt. The figure tilted its head, as if considering the question, then grinned wider. The air in the room grew colder. the whispers louder, drowning out my thoughts.

My flashlight lying forgotten on the ground, flickered, casting long, jagged shadows across the chamber. And then I saw her. Mia was standing just beyond the figure, her face pale, her eyes wide with terror. She was alive, but barely. Her mouth moved, whispering something I couldn't hear over the growing din. She looked at me, pleading, her eyes filled with fear. Alex, she mouthed, her voice drowned out by the growing roar in my head. I had to act now.

With a surge of adrenaline, I lunged for the flashlight, snatching it off the ground. The figure darted toward me, its arms outstretched, fingers curling like claws. I swung the flashlight, slamming it into its face with all the strength I could muster. The creature reeled back, shrieking, the whispers in my head reaching a deafening crescendo. I grabbed Mia's arm and pulled her toward the mouth of the cavern. She stumbled but kept pace, her breathing ragged, her eyes wide with terror. We didn't look back, we couldn't. Whatever that thing was, whatever had claimed these woods, it wasn't going to let us go without a fight.

We burst out of the cave, the cold night air hitting us like a slap to the face. The woods were still, eerily quiet, but I didn't stop running. neither did Mia. The trail ahead of us twisted and shifted, but I didn't care. I kept moving, pulling her with me, every muscle in my body screaming for me to keep going. Behind us I could hear the whispers fading, growing fainter with every step. The trees, once gnarled and twisted, started to look normal again, the path widening, as if the forest was finally letting us go. When we finally reached the clearing where we'd started, I collapsed to the ground, gasped, for air. Mia fell beside me, shaking, her hands still clutching my arm. I looked back at the woods,

expecting to see the figure standing there watching us. But there was nothing, just the stillness of the trees and the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. We were safe, for now. But as I looked down at my hands, I noticed something that made my heart stop. Dirt, wet, black dirt, smeared across my palms. And in my mind, faint and distant, I could still hear the whispers. This episode is brought to you by Netflix's remarkably bright creatures. What if a Pacific octopus held the key to a mystery that could heal your heart? Well, that's Tova's reality. An elderly widow working at an aquarium. Tova forms an unlikely friendship with the crumudgeonly Marcellus, whose remarkable intelligence leads her to a life-changing discovery.

Watch remarkably bright creatures with your remarkable moments this Mother's Day weekend. only on Netflix May 8th. I'll admit, I was the one who pushed for it. A Halloween camping trip deep in Rocky Mountain Woods sounded like the perfect way to cap off our final year in college. Sure, Sarah had her doubts, but she always did. It wasn't her fault. She'd grown up on too many ghost stories,

the kind that latch on to you and refuse to let go. But this was different. This was real life, not some haunted campfire tale. At least, that's what I kept. telling myself. Jack, Nate, Emily, Sarah, and me, Lena. Five of us crammed into Jack's beat-up SUV, rolling down that narrow dirt road with nothing but the tree canopy above and shadows below. The further we drove, the darker it got. I could almost feel the woods swallowing the daylight whole, piece by piece. It felt like the road itself was closing in on us, but we were too busy

cracking jokes and giving Sarah hell about the so-called silent ones to notice. You really believe that crap? Nate scoffed from the passenger seat, flipping through a crumpled local brochure he found at a gas station. There probably just bears or something. Tall, pale and quiet. Sounds like a bad date. Sarah rolled her eyes, arms crossed tight over her chest. It's not just bears, Nate. There have been reports. People have gone missing, and not just one or two, dozens. Dozens, huh? I caught her eye in the rearview mirror. They don't teach you how to fact-check at journalism school?

Jack snorted, cutting the wheel to avoid a pothole that sent the SUV lurching. This road better lead to something more than legends, or I'm turning around. We didn't drive three hours just to end up at a dead end. I glanced out my window at the thickening forest. The trees had a way of creeping right up to the edge of the road, their branches stretching across like fingers. But there was something else in the air. I couldn't put my finger on it just yet.

Something heavy, waiting. We finally reached the clearing by late afternoon. A small lake shimmered on the far side, the water dark and still. It wasn't much, but it felt isolated enough for what we needed. A night of beer, stories, and maybe a few jump scares to get the adrenaline pumping. Jack killed the engine, and the silence, dropped like a curtain, not the comfortable kind either. The woods were completely still, no wind, no birds, not even the distant rustle of leaves. Just the five of us standing there

are breathing the only sound. I tried shaking it off, getting the tent up, and the fire started. But the feeling lingered, gnawing at me like an itch you can't quite reach. As the sun began to sink behind the trees, we gathered around the fire, the flames crackling loud in the unnatural quiet. Nate was the first to bring up the silent ones, naturally. He loved to stir the pot. Come on, Sarah, give us the whole spooky rundown, what's the story? Sarah shifted uncomfortably, but cleared her throat. They're not ghosts, not exactly. People say they're something older, spirits of the lost, people who wandered into the woods and never came back. Jack rolled his eyes, Sounds like a Netflix special, but Sarah's voice was steady now.

They watch, and if you see them, it's already too late. That's when I felt it, the shift. I looked up, and between the trees, just at the edge of the firelight, something was standing there, pale, tall, motionless. I blinked, and it was gone. By morning I convinced myself it was a trick of the firelight. Shadows play games when your brain's been marinating in ghost stories all night. the others, they didn't even mention it. Maybe they hadn't seen what I did. Maybe I imagined the whole

thing. I wanted to believe that. The sun sat low behind the trees, barely casting enough light to slice through the fog. The woods felt different, thicker somehow, like they were closing in. But we had a plan for the day. Explore. Maybe hike a bit, check out the lake. The plan sounded normal, and I needed normal after last night. Emily walked ahead keeping a brisk pace as we move deeper into the trees. Her laugh echoed through the branches, but it felt wrong, too loud for the silent woods. Come on, guys. Where's that sense of adventure? She called back grinning.

Jack followed close behind her, scanning the path ahead, his confidence still solid. Nate and Sarah lagged behind, bickering quietly about which way we should go, typical. Then there was me, bringing up the first. a growing sense of dread sitting heavy in my gut. The kind of feeling you get when you realize you left the house without locking the door, only this was different, bigger, more dangerous. As we wandered deeper, something gnawed at the back of my mind, something I couldn't shake. I kept glancing over my shoulder, eyes darting to the edges of the trail. The woods weren't just quiet. They were silent in a way that wasn't natural. No birds, no rustling, nothing.

Nothing. Just the sound of our boots crunching dead leaves underfoot. About an hour in, Nate stopped dead in his tracks. Hold up. His voice was quieter than usual, serious. Anyone else notice how, off this place feels? Emily snorted. Don't start with that silent one's crap again. No, Nate said, more forcefully this time. Look.

He held out his compass. The needle was spinning in lazy circles, not pointing anywhere. Jack grabbed it from him, frowning. That's busted. Nate shook his head. It was working fine before. Sarah moved closer to Nate, staring at the compass. We should go back.

Seriously? It's just a stupid compass, Jack muttered, already pushing forward. But I agreed with Sarah. I could feel it, the way the air had changed. Every time I blinked, the shadows seemed to stretch a little longer, creeping over the trail. I kept thinking about last night. about that figure in the trees.

Maybe I hadn't imagined it. We continued walking, trying to keep conversation light, but the tension wrapped around us like a tightening noose. My mind raced, every noise, or lack thereof, twisting my nerves into knots. Then, out of nowhere, Sarah gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. There, she pointed ahead, her eyes wide with fear.

I followed her gaze, but all I saw were trees. Did you see?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. Someone's watching us. No one else had seen it, but I believed her. I'd seen it too. Or maybe it was just paranoia, spreading like a virus through the group. Jack pressed on, leading us forward, but the path was different.

I swear we'd been walking in a straight line, but now it felt like we were circling. We'd passed the same tree, at least it looked like the same tree, over and over again. The forest was playing tricks. We weren't alone. I knew that now. Whatever was out there wasn't human. My heart thudded hard against my ribs as I realized we were being hunted. But by what?

The silent ones were real, and they were closing in. Panic had set in by the time the sun started to sink behind the trees again. The temperature was dropping fast, but it wasn't just the cold making my hands tremble. Every step forward felt like stepping into quicksand. Sarah's quiet sobs behind me weren't helping, but I didn't have the energy to calm her down. Hell, I couldn't even calm myself. Not anymore. Jack, always the stubborn one, had tried to lead us out, cutting his own path through the woods. But no matter which way we turned, no matter how far we walked, it all led us back. Like the forest had twisted itself around us, trapping us inside. I'd never been a

believer in supernatural nonsense, but after today, after seeing the figures between the trees, that was changing, fast. Emily stopped dead ahead of me, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. Did you hear that? I froze. At first all I heard was the steady thrum of my own heartbeat in my ears. Then there it was, faint, like whispers carried on the wind, voices too low to understand, but unmistakably there. Sarah grabbed my own. arm, her nails digging in hard enough to hurt. We need to keep moving, Jack said, his voice flat, more desperate than he wanted to admit. He wasn't in control anymore, and that scared him as much as it scared the rest of us.

I didn't want to follow, not really, but the alternative was standing still and waiting for whatever was out there to get us. We trudged forward, the woods thickening with every step. The air itself felt heavy, like it was pressing down on us. Then Nate stopped. He stood perfectly still, his back to us, just staring into the trees. Nate, I called out, my voice barely above a whisper. He didn't respond. Jack moved toward him, waving a hand in front of his face. Nate, nothing. Nate didn't even flinch. His eyes were wide, pupils blown like he was staring at something no one else could see, something inhuman.

I edged closer and followed his gaze. That's when I saw it. one of them tall pale standing motionless between the trees just out of reach i couldn't see its face if it even had one but it was watching us watching him suddenly nate collapsed his body hit the ground hard twitching as if something invisible had wrapped around his throat and was squeezing the life out of him jack dropped beside him shouting his name slapping his face but nate's eyes stayed open fixed on the figure in the trees They're taking him. Sarah whispered. She didn't sound panicked anymore, just hollow. Nate's body stilled, his chest no longer rising. I wanted to scream, but my throat felt locked shut. Jack stood up, fists clenched, his face a mask of helpless rage.

We have to go. Now! But it didn't matter. The forest had swallowed us whole, and the silent ones, they were here to collect what was theirs. As we turned to flee, I knew the truth. There was no escape, not anymore. You said this place was steps from the water. We just haven't found the steps yet.

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When you want savings, not surprises. It matters where you stay. Hilton, for the stay. There are rules in Hollow Creek, rules that everyone in the hollow follows without question. They're not written down anywhere, but they've been passed from parent to child for as long as anyone can remember.

My father drilled them into me and my sister Eliza every year as Halloween approached. He said they came from our ancestors, the ones who lived across the ocean in Wales before they fled from something dark that followed them all the way here. We don't celebrate Halloween like other places. There are no costumes, no trick or treating.

Instead, we prepare to survive the night. Every year, we have to be careful, very careful, because on Halloween, the fleshless one comes. It starts like this. Before sundown, we draw symbols in ash around every window and smear chicken blood on the door frames. It's supposed to keep whatever's out there from coming inside. The most important thing, though, is the bread.

We bake a special loaf with ingredients passed down through our family and leave it on the doorstep as an offering. It's said the fleshless one will take the bread and leave us alone. At least, that's how it's supposed to work. My father always made sure we followed the rules to the letter. Never open the door after dark, unless it's to give the offering. Never look at whatever stands on the other side of that door. and most of all never leave the house once the sun goes down.

He told us the rules weren't just old stories. They were the only things keeping us safe. This Halloween though, something felt different. There was a tension in the air like the whole hollow was holding its breath. The woods, which usually buzzed with crickets and rustling leaves, were silent. It was as if the trees themselves were afraid. Even my father, who never showed fear, seemed nervous as he prepared the house. He kept glancing out the windows, his face pale and tight.

Don't look outside no matter what you hear, he warned us, checking the ash lines again. And when I opened that door, keep your eyes down. We nodded, though I could see the fear in Eliza's eyes. She was younger than me by a few years, and while she had always followed the rules, I knew this night was scaring her more than ever. The sun dipped below the mountains, casting long shadows over the hollow. We huddled inside the house, the air heavy with silence. Then it came, a knock at the door.

It was soft, slow, and deliberate, just as it always was. My father stood up, his face grim, and went to the door. He cracked it open just a sliver, keeping his eyes low as he reached out with the bread. I watched, heart pounding in my chest, as his hand stretched through the gap. The loaf slipped from his fingers and tumbled onto the porch. For a moment, there was silence. Then, my father looked up. His eyes widened in horror.

Before I could react, a bony hand shot through the door, grabbed him by the arm, and yanked him outside. And just like that, he was gone. I couldn't breathe. My father was gone. dragged out into the darkness by something I didn't want to imagine. The door slammed shut behind him, and the house fell into an awful silence. My heart raced, pounding in my ears.

Eliza was crying, clutching my arm with fingers so tight it hurt. We have to get him back, she sobbed, her voice cracking with fear. She was already heading for the door. No! I grabbed her arm, pulling her away from it. We can't. You know the rules. We can't go outside, not after dark.

But he's out there. Her eyes were wild with panic. Her face pale. We have to help him. I wanted to. Every part of me screamed to run out into the night and find my dad, but the rules were clear. Once the sun was down, the door stayed shut.

Whatever had taken him was still out there, waiting. If we went out now, we'd be next. Eliza, listen, I said, trying to calm her down, even though my own fear was choking me. We can't break any more rules. If we go out there, we'll never come back. You know that. Eliza stared at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shook her head, like she couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it either, but the rules were the only thing keeping us alive, or at least that's what I had always believed. Suddenly the silence in the house was broken by a sound that made my blood run cold,

a slow dragging noise, like something heavy scraping across the floorboards. It was coming from the hallway. Eliza, get back, I whispered, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the living room. The scraping grew louder, closer. I couldn't see anything, but I could feel something in the house with us. My skin prickled and the air turned icy. Then I heard it, a voice, low and low. and raspy, but familiar. Help, me! It was my father's voice. I froze, every muscle in my body tensing.

Eliza gasped and looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes. He's alive, she whispered. No, I said, shaking my head. My heart sank with dread. I wanted to believe it was him, but I knew better. The rules were clear. Never respond to voices you don't recognize. Even if they sound familiar. It wasn't him. It couldn't be. Eliza, don't listen to it, I said, my voice trembling. It's not Dad. She stared at me, confused and scared. The voice came again louder this time. Please, let me in. The dragging sound was getting closer. I grabbed Eliza's hand, pulling her toward the corner of the room. We crouched behind the couch, hiding in the shadows, trying to stay as quiet as possible. The door rattled. Something was on the other

side, something that wasn't my father. I could hear it breathing, heavy, raspy, unnatural. Eliza, stay quiet, I whispered, squeezing her hand. We huddled together, barely breathing as the thing outside tried to get in. The door creaked under the pressure. It felt like the walls were closing in, like the whole house was being swallowed by the darkness. The rules were broken. The house wasn't safe anymore. And I knew, deep down, that whatever had taken my father was coming. for us next. We sat huddled behind the couch, barely daring to breathe. The thing outside the door was still there, and I could hear it scratching at the wood, slow and deliberate. It wasn't in a hurry, like it knew we had nowhere to go. The door rattled again, and a horrible scraping

noise followed, like nails on a chalkboard. Eliza whimpered softly beside me, clutching my arm so hard it felt like she might break it. It's going to get in. She was. whispered, her voice shaking. No, it won't. I lied. I didn't know what else to say. The rules were broken, and I had no idea what was going to happen next. We were supposed to be safe as long as we stayed inside, but it didn't feel that way anymore. Everything felt wrong, like the night itself was alive and hunting us. The sound of chains dragging across the floor echoed through the house again, this time from inside. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that the I thought I might pass out. Something had gotten in. Eliza, I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

We have to move, quietly, now. She nodded, her eyes wide with terror, and we crawled along the floor, staying low, moving toward the back of the house where the kitchen was. I kept glancing over my shoulder, expecting to see something behind us, something that shouldn't be there. Every shadow seemed to stretch and move on its own, twisting into horrible shapes that made my stomach lurch. We reached the kitchen, and I carefully pulled myself up to peer out the window. My breath fogged up the glass, and I wiped it away with trembling fingers. Outside, I saw it. The old Pritchard House. There were candles burning in every window now, flickering like a hundred ghostly eyes watching us. The wind howled, carrying with it strange whispers I couldn't make out,

like the voices were speaking directly into my mind. We can't stay here, I muttered half to myself. The house isn't safe. But we can't go outside, Eliza said, her voice rising in panic. We'll be breaking the rules again. The rules are already broken, I snapped, louder than I meant to. Dad's gone and something's in here with us. We need to get away from the house.

I didn't know where we could go, but the Pritcher's. house seemed like the only option. The thought of going there sent a shiver down my spine. No one who entered that house had ever come back. But I felt it in my gut. We couldn't stay here. Whatever had dragged Dad into the woods was coming for us next. Eliza, we have to try, I said, grabbing her hand. It's our only chance. We moved to the back door, every step feeling heavier than the last. I reached for the handle, my hand shaking. The sound. The sound. of chains dragging grew louder, and I could hear something breathing behind us, slow and raspy. Without thinking, I yank the door open, cold night air rushed in, carrying the scent of decay.

We bolted out into the darkness, running as fast as we could toward the cursed Pritchard house, hoping, praying, that the rules hadn't doomed us completely. The night wasn't over yet, but deep down I knew we might not survive what came next.