Just Creepy: Scary Stories - Best Scary Stories of January 2023 | Scary Stories for Sleep, Forest Skinwalker, Park Ranger

Episode Date: January 28, 2023

These are the Top 16 Best Scary Stories of January 2023 | Scary Stories for Sleep, Forest Skinwalker, Park Ranger. Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: ►https://www.reddit.com/user/aliisa1254/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/iimE_htraD/ ►Anonymous ►https://www.reddit.com/user/Aeronworm/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/StolenK*tamine/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/Lord_Despairagus/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/Aquarius1002/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/TheGingerWithNoSoul/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/aBlueSweater/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/Theeaglestrikes/ ►https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/107b55a/the_forest_is_watching/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/entityA152/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/Boba_Tea0/ Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey  ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe  Free HD Stock-Footage and Motion Graphics by CyberWebFX ►https://www.youtube.com/c/CyberWebFX   #scarystories #parkrangerstories #skinwalker  💀As always thanks for watching! 💀 Business inquiries:  ►[e-mail]

I have always been cautious of the forest, knowing my limits and never going too far when I don't know the area. When I was younger, I lived in a place where my backyard was the woods. I have always loved them and cherished the memories I have had in the embrace of the trees. But recently something happened. I am figuring out where to begin since I haven't told anyone this. If I go to the police, they'll wave me off and ignore me, so I am at a loss for the right words. Even though this is a story platform, I would love recommendations and ideas of people I can go to if anyone can help. But anyway, I love autumn and everything that comes with it.

The temperature change, the leaves, and the brisk air that goes into your lungs and fills you with a warmer feeling. I love it enough to take time off work on an annual hiking trip. I live in Alberta, only to take a trip back to Saskatchewan in September, going north and walking through the bush. I am gone for a few days before returning home, but whatever. I usually tent it and go for about 31 miles. I have been doing this for the past six years and do not regret it. I just got back from my hiking trip and strongly feel the need to write this. I drove down a week ago and parked alongside the highway,

getting up and venturing and with a GPS, my phone, a book, and any food I needed. It is always peaceful, with the initial few steps feeling great as I walk in, starting my trip. I walked for the better part of the day, stopping a few times to eat and drink water as I walked nearly 12 miles on the first day. I pitched the tent and headed in for the night, only to hear rustling and moving about 50 feet away. I got up, looking out at the woods and couldn't see anything at first. The fire I had set up hadn't gone out yet, so I watched for a few minutes when I finally saw what looked like a humanoid figure stepping back into the shadows. I screamed out to them and got no reply. So I figured I was tired and just needed sleep, so I did.

The following day, I got up and kept walking, having everything packed up as I continued on. It was a typical day as I had only seen a deer and a bear from a distance. I thought nothing of the previous night as I took another 12-mile hike, stopping for the night again. The second night was hell. Every few hours, I started hearing whispers. I initially thought it was a bunch of stupid teens pranking me, but now that I am 24, miles in the woods, I have no idea what the noises were. They spoke in a low mutter, waking me up a few times as I kept getting a chill down my spine. The first time I woke up to it, I opened the tent and

saw absolutely nothing. The fire had gone out and the trees were dark. I kept watching the trees, expecting to see someone hiding, but I saw nothing, so I went back to bed. I woke up a few hours later and heard someone muttering a few meters away from my tent. The mumble was low and grisly, but it was human. I ripped open the door and stared, seeing nothing for a moment before catching a humanoid creature running away on all fours in my sight. Now, believe me, when I say I thought I was going crazy. I felt tired, so I chalked it up to a nightmare mixed with reality, falling back asleep. The next day I packed my stuff and started heading back to the truck. It was going to be a 24-mile hike, so I walked quicker than usual. I passed many

landmarks and only a few hours before noticing something was off. One of my landmarks was a clearing. It felt artificial, but I didn't think anything of it as I passed through the first time. Now on my way back, I stopped before the clearing, freezing almost at sight before me. There were random limbs askew to branches on trees and a red liquid in every direction around the clearing. I know this was not here before. I know I would be able to see this, and this was done professionally. It felt like a ritual or as I walked through it, maybe even a battlefield where the bodies were just left to rot. I made my way through this, taking a picture to show authorities once I got out. Maybe five miles after that sight, I saw one of the most terrifying displays I hoped to ever

witness. When I was walking, suddenly ahead of me, maybe 50 feet or so, a man wearing a black suit stood still, staring straight at me with his arms resting in front of him, almost standing at attention. It felt unnatural and bizarre. I slowly walked closer and shouted out to him. Hello. No response. I chuckled nervously to myself and spoke, getting closer. Um, what are you doing?

No response. Now, I felt something was severely off. I changed my trajectory and was planning on walking past him. He was creepy and kept looking at me. I had a horrible feeling in my gut as I started picking up the pace. Suddenly, the guy dropped to his hands and feet, staring. and contorting his body before letting out a weird crackly breath. I also heard the rustling of leaves surrounding me as I looked around and realized he was not the only one. There was someone

behind me and to my left and right. Everyone is wearing suits and getting on all fours, breathing harshly. Suddenly there was silence. All of them stopped breathing and simply stared at me. Looking back, I realized that every one of their eyes turned white in the few seconds of silence. I looked around, now jogging to get out of this messed up diamond. Then, with minimal sound, all of them started sprinting at me on all fours, making no breathing noises or huffs as they silently ran through the crackling leaves. When they started sprinting, I ran as fast as possible, kicking the one ahead of me in the arm and making them stagger.

I ran as I heard the leaves behind me break and crackle under the creature's limbs. After an eternity of running, I listened to a ghastly howl and a messed up cry as the leaves stopped cracking, and then I only heard myself running. I kept jogging for another mile before slowing down and turning around, seeing absolutely nothing behind me. It was terrifying and eerie as I walked to my truck, got in and drove home. I cannot begin to describe this encounter to the degree it deserves. I can only express the fear and uncertainty I have now. Everything I have seen is improbable, and I am at a loss for words. I do not know what to do, or who to tell. What the hell do I do?

To your family, you're lucky to make it out alive. Streaming on Peacock. These men are going to come after me. Taking them out. It's my only chance. Put a bullet in her head. From the co-creator of Ozark. Looks like a family was running drugs.

Execution style killing. It's rare for the keys. And it leads on who they might have been running for. The cartel killed my family. I'm going to kill them. All of them. MIA. Streaming now.

Only on Peacock. Yama Vah Resort and Casino at San Manuel is California's number one entertainment destination for today's superstars. Catch the Jonas Brothers return to the Yamava Theater stage on April 30th, the powerful vocals of Demi Lovato on May 17th, and the signature Southern Country Rock of Eric Church on July 19th. Tickets on sale now at yamava Theater.com, only at Yamava Resort and Casino, celebrating its 40th anniversary. You in? Must be 21 to enter.

You said this place was steps from the water. We just haven't found the steps yet. How much did we save? Enough. Enough to get lost. Or you could book a stay with Hilton. Welcome to your ocean front room. Just steps from the water.

The Hilton sale is on now. Book on Hilton.com or the Hilton app and save up to 20% to get the stay you expected. When you want savings, not surprises. It matters where you stay. Hilton for this day. Kayak gets my flight, hotel, and rental car right, so I can tune out travel advice that's just plain wrong.

Bro, Skycoin, way better than points. Never fly during a Scorpio full moon. Just tell the manager you'll sue. Instant room upgrade. Stop taking bad travel advice. Start comparing hundreds of sites with kayak, and get your trip right. Bad advice? You talking to me?

Kayak. Got that right. It was a dark and stormy night, and I was driving through the dense forest that surrounded my small town. I had been on the road for hours, and I was starting to feel the fatigue setting in. I knew I needed to find a place to stop and rest for the night, but I was in the middle of nowhere, and there were no motels or hotels in sight. As I continued on, the road started to twist and turn, and the trees seemed to close in around me. The headlights of my car barely penetrated the darkness, and I could barely make out the shapes of the trees as they flew by. I kept checking my map, hoping to find some sign of civilization,

but all I saw was an endless expanse of forest. Just when I was starting to lose hope, I saw a faint light in the distance. It was a small, flickering glow, but it was enough to give me hope. I pressed down on the gas and followed the light, eager to find whatever it was that was waiting for me. As I got closer, I realized that the light was coming from an old, run-down gas station. It was nestled in a clearing among the trees and it looked like it hadn't been used in years. The windows were all broken and the roof was caved in. Despite its dilapidated state, I was relieved to see it. I pulled up to the pumps and turned off the engine.

I sat in my car for a moment trying to decide what to do. I knew I should just fill up my tank and get back on the road, but I was so tired. I decided to go inside and see if there was anyone who could help me. I grabbed my flashlight and stepped out into the rain. The door to the gas station was stuck, and it took all my strength to wrench it open. I stepped inside, my flashlight beam illuminating the dusty shelves and rusted machinery. It was clear that no one had been here in a long time. I called out, hoping to find someone, but there was no answer.

I made my way to the back of the store, where I found a small room with a cot and a sink. It was clear that someone had been living here, but there was no sign of any one. now. I sat down on the cot and let out a sigh. I was just about to close my eyes when I heard a noise. It was a faint scratching sound like something was trying to dig its way through the wall. I stood up, my heart racing, and put my flashlight to the wall. There was nothing there, but the scratching sound continued. It seemed to be coming from everywhere at once and it was getting louder and more insistent. I backed away from the wall, my flashlight shaking in my hand. Suddenly, the scratching stopped.

There was a moment of silence, and then I heard a faint whisper. It sounded like it was coming from right behind me. I spun around, shining my flashlight in every direction, but there was no one there. I was alone in the gas station, or so I thought. I started to back towards the door, my flashlight beam dancing across the room. I was almost there when I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. I screamed and swung around, ready to fight, but there was no one there. I ran out of the gas station, my heart pounding in my chest.

I jumped in my car and locked the doors, turning the key in the ignition with shaking hands. The engine sputtered to life, and I floored it, tearing out of the clearing and back onto the dark road. I drove as fast as I could, the headlights of my car illuminating the way. I kept checking the rearview mirror, expecting to see something following me, but there was nothing there. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to get as far away from that gas. station as possible. I drove for what felt like hours, the rain pounding against my windows and the wind howling through the trees. Just when I thought I was safe, I saw a figure standing in the middle of the road. It was a tall, thin figure with long, flowing hair. Its skin was a sickly green

color, and it had glowing yellow eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. I hit the brakes, but it was too late. The figure reached out with long, clawed hands and tore the door off my car. I screamed and tried to fight, but it was no use. The figure dragged me out of the car and into the darkness. I struggled and kicked, but the thing was too strong. It dragged me deeper into the forest, its claws digging into my skin. I could feel its breath on my face as it leaned in close. What are you?

I yelled, trying to break free. I am the skin walker. It hissed its voice a mixture of anger and pain. I am the guardian of these woods, and I will not let you leave alive. I knew then that I was doomed. The Skinwalker was a legendary creature said to be able to take on the form of any animal it desired. It was said to be able to change its shape at will, and it was feared by all who knew of it. I closed my eyes, expecting the worst, but instead I felt the Skinwalker's grip loosen.

I opened my eyes to see it standing before me, its claws retracted and its eyes no longer glowing. You have been spare. It said, its voice now soft and gentle. But be warned, do not come back to these woods. They are not for the likes of you. With that, the Skinwalker vanished into the darkness, leaving me alone on the road. I stumbled back to my car and drove as fast as I could,

never looking back. I never returned to those woods again, and I never spoke of my encounter with the Skinwalker, but I knew that it was still out there, guarding the secrets of the forest and protecting those who respected its power. I drove for what felt like hours, my hands shaking on the steering, wheel and my heart racing in my chest. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I had always heard

stories about the Skinwalker, but I had never believed they were real. Now, I knew the truth. As the dawn broke, I finally saw the outskirts of my town. I was so relieved to be home that I burst into tears. I pulled into my driveway and stumbled out of the car, my legs shaking beneath me. I fell to my knees on the front lawn, my body racked with sobs. I had never been so scared in my life, and I didn't know how I was going to go on. Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see my neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins,

standing above me with a concerned look on her face. Are you okay, dear? She asked, helping me to my feet. I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't go. I just shook my head and fell into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Mrs. Jenkins led me inside and sat me down on the couch. She wrapped a blanket around me and made me a blanket around me and made me a cup of tea, talking to me in a soothing voice. As the sun rose higher in the sky,

I finally started to calm down. I told Mrs. Jenkins everything that had happened, and she listened with a look of shock on her face. I had no idea, she said when I was finished. I always thought the Skinwalker was just a legend. I had no idea it was real. I nodded, still feeling the fear coursing through my veins. It's real, I said. And it's out there, waiting for its next victim. Mrs. Jenkins patted my hand and stood up. Well, you're safe now, she said. And you're not going to leave this house until you're feeling better. I'll make you some breakfast and we'll figure out what to do from there.

I nodded, grateful for her kindness. I knew I would never forget my encounter with the Skinwalker, but with Mrs. Jenkins by my side, I knew I could survive anything. Over the next few days, I stayed at Mrs. Jenkins' house, trying to recover from my crazy experience. She took care of me like I was her own child, bringing me meals and sitting with me while I tried to process everything that had happened. I knew I couldn't stay there forever, though. Eventually, I would have to go back to my own home and face the world again.

But the thought of it filled me with dread. I didn't know if I would ever be able to feel safe again, knowing that the Skinwalker was out there. One morning, Mrs. Jenkins walked into my room with a concerned look on her face. I have some news, she said. I think you'll want to hear it. I sat up in bed, bracing myself for the worst. What is it? I asked. There have been some strange occurrences in the town, Mrs. Jenkins said.

People have been reporting seeing strange creatures roaming the streets at night. Some say it's the skinwalker, back to haunt us. I felt my heart sink. What are we going to do? I asked. Mrs. Jenkins patted my hand. We're going to stay safe, she said. We'll lock the doors and keep. the lights on and if we see anything strange we'll call the police we'll be okay I

agreed with a nod feeling a little bit better mrs Jenkins was right as long as we were careful we would be okay over the next few weeks I stayed with Mrs. Jenkins trying to put the skin walker out of my mind I knew it was still out there but I tried to focus on the present and not let my fear consume me one night as I was sitting on the couch watching TV I heard a knock on the door Mrs. Jenkins and I looked at each other, our eyes wide with fear. Who could that be? She whispered. I shrugged, my heart racing.

We both knew it could be the Skinwalker, come to finish what it had started. Mrs. Jenkins stood up, her face determined. I'll go see who it is, she said. I watched as she walked to the door, my heart in my throat. She opened it a crack and peeked out, then let out a sigh of relief. It's the police, she said, opening the door all the way. Two officers walked in, their face is serious. We're here about the skin walker.

One of them said, I looked up, my heart pounding. What about it? I asked. We've been getting reports of strange creatures roaming the streets at night, the officer said. We think it might be the skinwalker. I nodded, feeling a sense of dread wash over me. I know, I said. I've seen it. The officers looked at me with surprise.

You have, one of them asked. I nodded. It attacked me on the road, but then it let me go. I don't know why, but it's out there, and it's dangerous. The officers looked at each other, then back at me. We'll take your warning seriously, one of them said. We'll keep an eye out for the Skinwalker and do our best to keep the town safe. I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.

I knew I would never forget my encounter with the Skinwalker, but at least now I knew that others were aware of the Skinwalker, and I was determined to live my life to the full. I made a promise to myself to always be aware of my surroundings and to be cautious, but I also vowed to not let fear hold me back. I knew that the Skinwalker was still out there, but I also knew that I was stronger than it was. As the years passed, I never forgot about the Skinwalker, but I also never saw it again. And even though I knew it was still out there, lurking in the shadows, I also knew that I was ready to face it if it ever came for me again. It all started on a dark and stormy night, but we were out in the middle of nowhere, camping in a national park with no electricity or cell service.

We had planned this trip for months, a group of old college friends excited to reconnect and spend some quality time in nature. As the rain pounded against the tent, I tried to ignore the creeping sense of unease that had settled in my stomach. I told myself it was just the howling wind and the rustling trees, but deep down I knew there was something more sinister at play. The others were huddled around the campfire, trying to keep warm and pass the time with stories and jokes, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. I kept catching glimpses of movement in the shadows, fleeting figures darting just beyond the edge of the firelight. I tried to brush it off as my imagination running wild, but as the night wore on, the strange occurrences only seemed to escalate.

Strange noises echoed through the woods, eerie whispers that seemed to follow us wherever we went. and then there was the smell, a sickly sweet stench that seemed to hang in the air, clinging to our clothes and skin. I knew we had to leave to get as far away from this place as possible, but it was too late. We were trapped, and whatever was out there in the darkness was closing in on us. As the night wore on, the strange noises around our tents only seemed to get louder and more ominous. It was as if whatever was out there was trying to taunt us to let us know that it was watching and waiting. One of our group, a nervous and high strong guy named Dave, started to panic. He insisted that we pack up and leave right then and there, no matter the weather. But the rest of us

were too scared to venture out into the storm, not knowing what might be lurking in the shadows. So we huddled together in our tents, trying to block out the noise and pretend that everything was okay. But it wasn't long before things took a turn for the worse. It was the middle of the night when we heard the screams. They were distant at first, muffled by the rain and the wind. But as they grew louder and more frenzied, it was clear that something was terribly wrong. We rushed out of our tents, stumbling through the mud and the darkness towards the sound. And that's when we saw it, a figure silhouetted against the trees. It was Dave, or at least it looked like him, but there was something off about him, something twisted and unnatural.

Before we could even react, the figure lunged at us, a primal scream ripping. from its throat. We scattered, running in every direction, our only thought to get as far away from that thing as possible. When we regrouped, panting and shaking, we realized that one from our group was missing. It was Sarah, a quiet and unassuming girl who had always seemed to fade into the background. But now she was nowhere to be found, and we knew with a sinking sense of dread that whatever had taken Dave had also taken her. We had to get out of there to escape whatever horrors were lurking in the woods. But as we were, we knew with the same. we stumbled through the underbrush, the storm raging around us, we couldn't shake the feeling

that we were being hunted, and we knew that we were running out of time. As the storm raged on, we became hopelessly lost in the woods. The rain and the wind had disoriented us, and we had no idea which way to turn. We wandered for what felt like ours, our flashlights barely piercing the darkness as we stumbled over roots and rocks. We were exhausted, our nerves frayed to the breaking point. And that's when we heard it, the sound that sent to chill down our spines. It was a faint wine, barely audible over the storm, but it was enough to send us running in the opposite direction. We set up camp in a clearing, huddled together in our tents as the rain pounded the roof. But it wasn't long before we realized that we were down another member of our

group. It was Gary, a burly guy with a hearty laugh and a quick wit. He had been assigned to keep watch, and now he was gone. We searched the surrounding area, calling out his name and shining our flashlights into the darkness, but there was no sign of him, no trace of where he might have gone. It was as if he had simply vanished into thin air. We were terrified, our nerves stretched to the breaking point. We knew we had to get out of there, but we had no idea how. The storm had knocked out our GPS and our phones were dead, leaving us completely cut off from the outside world. As the night dragged on, we huddled together in our tents, listening to the howling wind and the creaking trees. We knew that whatever was out there was still watching us, waiting for its moment to strike.

And we knew that we were running out of time. We knew we had to leave, to escape whatever horrors were lurking in the woods. So we gathered our things and set out into the storm, our only thought to put as much distance between us and that cursed place as possible. We ran through the woods, our feet pounding the soggy ground as the rain poured down around us. We were cold and wet and terrified, but we didn't dare stop. We knew that whatever was out there was still following us, still waiting for its chance to strike. And then we saw it, a faint glimmer of light in the distance.

We stumbled towards it, hope rising in our chests as we realized that it was an abandoned cabin. We rushed inside, grateful for the shelter and the relative safety it offered. The cabin was small and cramped, but it was dry, and relatively warm. We huddled around a small wood stove, trying to get some much-needed rest as the storm raged on outside. But we knew we couldn't stay there for long. We had to figure out a way to get out of the woods, to find help and get as far away from that place as possible. We searched the cabin for supplies, searching for whatever we could find to help

us on our journey. As the night wore on, we started to formulate a plan. We would set out at first light, following the river downstream until we found civilization. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was all we had. We settled in for the night, huddled together for warmth and comfort as we tried to get some rest. But even as we drifted off, we knew that we couldn't let our guard down. Whatever was out there was still out there, and we knew that it was only a matter of time before it came for us. As the night wore on, we continued to search the cabin for anything that might help us on our journey, and that's when we found it, a map and a compass hidden away in a secret compartment.

We poured over the map, trying to get our bearings and figure out the best route to take. It wasn't easy. The storm had disoriented us and we had no idea how long we had been wandering in the woods. But with the help of the map and the compass, we were finally starting to get our bearings. As we searched, we came across a journal lying on the ground. It was old and tattered, the pages yellowed and brittle, but as we started to read, we realized that it was a warning. The journal described a skinwalker, a terrifying creature that roamed the woods, preying on unsuspecting travelers. It could take on any form, disguising itself as one of us before tearing us apart. We were terrified, our nerves stretched to the breaking point.

We knew we had to get out of there to escape whatever horrors were lurking in the woods. But as we prepared to leave, we couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. We gathered our things and set out into the storm, our only thought to get as far away from that, place as possible. We followed the map and the compass keeping to the shadows and trying to stay as quiet as possible. But we knew that the Skinwalker was out there, stalking us through the woods, and we knew that it was only a matter of time before it caught up to us. We knew we had to leave the cabin to put as much distance between us and the Skinwalker as possible. So we gathered our things and set out into the storm, our only thought to get out of the woods and find help.

As we trudged through the underbrush, we could feel the Skinwalker's or following us. We could hear its footsteps pounding the ground, its hot breath on the back of our necks. We ran as fast as we could, our hearts racing and our breaths coming and gasps. But somehow, we managed to outrun it. As the storm began to ease and the sun started to peek through the clouds, we saw a glimmer of hope on the horizon. It was a town, a small cluster of buildings nestled in a valley below. We rushed towards it, our feet pounding the ground as we stumbled down the hill, and when we finally reached the town, we collapsed in exhaustion, tears of relief streaming down our faces. We called for help, screaming, and waving our arms until someone finally noticed us.

And as the rescuers rushed towards us, we knew that we were finally safe. We had survived the Skinwalker, but we knew that we would never forget the terror of that night in the woods. I had always been an avid hiker, but this trip was turning out to be something else entirely. my friends and I had set out on a challenging trail that promised stunning views and a good workout. But as the hours passed, things started to feel off. We had been following the markers and checking our map, but somehow we kept ending up back at the same spot. It was as if we were walking in circles, no matter how hard we tried to stay on track. The sun was starting to set and a feeling of unease settled over our group.

As the light began to fade, we decided to make camp and figure out our next month. move in the morning. But as we settled in for the night, something even stranger happened. One minute, it was dusk, and the next, it was broad daylight. I couldn't explain it, but it was as if time had skipped forward. We were all disoriented and confused, but we knew we had to keep moving. We packed up our things and set off again, hoping to find some sign of civilization. But as the day wore on, it became clear that we were truly lost. The sense of being followed was palpable, and we couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. I tried to stay positive and keep my friends calm,

but it was getting harder and harder to ignore the creeping sense of terror that seemed to surround us. We were deep in the wilderness now, and there was no telling what might be out there. I just hoped that we would find our way back home safely. As the night dragged on, it felt like it was lasting twice as long as it should have. We were all on edge, listening for any sign of danger, but it wasn't until we set up camp that things really took a turn for the worse. As we huddled around the campfire, trying to stay warm and draw some comfort from the flickering flames, we started to hear noises.

Footsteps, rustling in the underbrush, the snapping of twigs. It was impossible to tell where the sounds were coming from, but it was clear that we were not alone. We tried to stay calm and rational, but fear was starting to get the better of us. We huddled closer together, trying to make ourselves a small a target, it is possible. But no matter what we did, the noises seemed to be getting closer and closer. I don't know how long we stayed like that, waiting for the dawn to break and bring some sense of safety with it. But eventually, exhausted and on the brink of panic, we crawled into our tents and tried to get some sleep. I don't think any of us slept much that night. We were too busy listening

for the slightest hint of danger, ready to bolt at a moment's notice. When the morning finally came, we were all relieved to pack up and get moving again. But we knew that we were far from safe and that whatever was out there in the woods was still lurking, waiting for its chance to strike. We set off at first light, determined to put as much distance between us and that terrifying night as possible.

The sense of being watched and followed persisted, and we all kept our eyes peeled for any sign of danger. As the day wore on, we started to see more and more evidence that something was not right, tracks in the ground that looked like they couldn't have been made by any animal we knew of. Strange markings on the trees, like they had been clawed at by some giant beast. And then, just when we thought things couldn't get any worse, we stumbled upon a lake.

At first, the sight of the water was a welcome relief. We were all thirsty and hot, and the prospect of a swim was too tempting to resist. But as we got closer, we saw that something was off. The camp on the other side of the lake had been completely torn apart, like some kind of animal had attacked. We approached cautiously, trying to make sense of the scene in front of us. It was clear that whoever had been there had fled in a hurry, leaving behind their gear and supplies.

But there was no sign of any bodies, and it was impossible to tell what had caused the destruction. We knew we had to get out of there, and fast. Whatever had attacked that camp could still be lurking nearby, and we didn't want to stick around to find out. We gathered up what supplies we could and made a run for it, not stopping until we were sure we were safe. It wasn't until much later that we finally made it back to civilization, and even then,

the memory of that terrifying trip stayed with us for a long time. I never went hiking again, and I don't think any of my friends did either. Some things are just too scary to risk. I was driving down a lonely country road on a dark stormy night for hours. I hadn't seen any signs of civilization for miles, nothing but trees as far as I could see. How long had I been driving for? I never even noticed the sun go down. Driving through a forest without crossing a road or seeing any signs of life was making me more worried by the second.

Das light suddenly started to flash, still nothing but trees. I was just about to pull over when I saw it. A flash of light from my car's headlights against some kind of reflection. Rain started to fall with awful timing and I pressed harder on the gas pedal to reach that flash in the darkness. It was like my own beacon of hope. I eventually reached a large black iron gate. The curled steel stood 10 feet tall and 15 feet wide, looming and swaying, half open in the wind.

I parked my car just outside the gate and saw a few no trespassing signs that have been nailed to the trees nearby. The droplets of rain started to fall more heavily on my head and I ran back to my car. I tried to turn the key but the engine had stalled. I grabbed a flashlight, got back out into the rain,

shine my light past the gate. There was nothing but a narrow gravel road that plunged into the darkness of the trees ahead and I was unable to see the end of it. Without really knowing where I was, and with my dead engine, I decided that I had no other choice but to follow the road that went into the trees. I mean, there's a gate in signs, there must be a house nearby or a phone, I thought to myself. It felt more like I was preparing myself for what would probably be a long walk ahead. with my flashlight, I approached the closed half of the gate and pushed it open.

The long, eerie screech of the cold, stiff iron was enough to make me feel even more uneasy than I did already. The rain fell heavier with every step and I was constantly moving the flashlight between my left and right side, trying my best to see anything through the dense forest on either side of me. I guess I am much more afraid of the dark than I thought. The trees continued to sway and creak with the rain and the wind, all the while my footsteps crunched on the narrow gravel road. I suddenly heard a branch snap and I immediately turned my light to the left and found nothing. Another snap to the right and again I found nothing under the thin beam of light of my flashlight. The walk seemed to be endless with the occasional snapping branch.

I continued to walk straight on with my head up, trying my best to focus on the road ahead and ignore the sounds around me. This time I heard a very loud thump behind me. I really didn't want to look, but I couldn't help but think. Whatever it was is big enough for me to have heard and felt it through this noisy storm. With that in mind, I stopped, breathing heavily, yet trying my best to listen for any other clue as to what was behind me. Slow and heavy footsteps started to crunch on the gravel towards me. I remained motionless until the steps were so close that I started to feel breaths on top of my head. In that moment is when I bolted down the road.

I had no idea how much further I needed to go, and at that point, point, I really didn't care. Running as fast as I could, thankfully, I did not hear anything chasing me. After some time, I dared to slow down, listening for anything that might be following me. I turned my head and my flashlight left and right into the trees on either side of me. Nothing. No footsteps, no snapping branches, no heavy breathing. At this point, I had gone too far now to turn back. Turn back to what? I'd be no safer sleeping in that car than I was now. alone and exposed in a dark forest on a stormy night. After a moment to catch my breath I continued on.

A few moments later and that is when I saw a light. I had finally reached the edge of the dense forest. From what I could tell through the rain, there was a small wooden cabin in the middle of a large, empty field. There was a flickering light to be seen through a window. I took one step past the tree line in disbelief, then suddenly I heard a deep growl coming from behind me. I screamed and immediately started to run.

This time, I heard a loud roar and loud footsteps running behind me, chasing me. When I reached the cabin, I wrenched the door open and slammed it shut as fast as I could, putting all of my weight against the door. The thing on the other side of the door started pounding, scratching, and tearing at the door. It snarls and howls terrified me so much that I managed to hold my ground during the fight of my life. After what seemed like hours, the thing outside the door ceased and retreated with a low growl. I took my chance to grab a nearby chair and wedge the door shut. After I made sure the door was secure, I took another moment to make sure I didn't hear anything outside, except for the storm, of course.

I decided that it was safe enough and I started to look around. The small cabin only had two rooms, a kitchen with a small round table and three chairs, in which I stood, and a threshold revealed the room with the flickering light. I cautiously entered the next room, welcoming its warmth in my cold, wet clothes, There was nothing but an old bed with torn sheets to the right, a lit-cast iron fireplace in the far left corner, and a high-backed armature facing the blazing fire. I looked again over at the old bed, and this time I noticed traces of what looked like blood on the torn sheets. My attention then turned to the huge cushioned armature sitting alone, facing the fire. I slowly approached it from behind. I looked over the top of the chair and down upon the long, dark, tangled hair of a girl curled up in dirty, ragged, and torn clothes.

I quickly got myself in front of the chair and started to shake the girl awake. What are you doing here alone? There's a monster out there. Where's your parents? The girl didn't move, but I started to look around frantically as a familiar low growl started again, and this time it was coming from inside the room. I looked down to see the girl staring up at me with the brightest yellow eyes I had ever seen. Terrified, I fell back on the ground and was frozen with fear as I watched the girl crawl over the back of the chair.

Prowling, slowly growing, and her hypnotizing yellow eyes never left mine. I continued to stare in shock, unable to move or scream as she shifted into a mass of fur and teeth. I heard the same fearsome roar one last time before she finally lunged at me, claws out, and teeth barred. I was lucky that day or unlucky, however you want to look at it. My family called 911 when they didn't hear from me and police managed to track my phone to the cabin where I was found, barely alive. alive, if that's what you want to call it. My legs don't work anymore and now I am blind because of the damage the creature caused in the attack. I wouldn't even want to know what I look like.

A small miracle. Police never found the girl or the creature. I don't know if they believe my story. They think I was just in shock. I just had to get that night off of my chest. It's been haunting me for years. They say I was attacked by a bear for the size of the claw marks all over my body. Believe what he want. I know it was no bear and she won't ever let me go. The fact is, even though I can't see

anything, I only see dark when I'm asleep. Every day in my waking moments, I still see those terrible yellow eyes. It was a hot summer evening and I decided to take my dog for a walk in the woods near my house. The sun was starting to set and the air was filled with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. As we walked deeper into the woods, I started to get the field. that something was watching me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being followed. My dog, who is usually full of energy,

was starting to act strange as well. He was tugging on his leash and whining as if he didn't want to move forward. I tried to reassure myself that it was just my imagination, but the feeling only grew stronger. I quickened my pace and tried to ignore the creeping feeling that something was closing in on us. Just as I was about to turn back,

I heard a faint rustling in the bushes behind me. I spun around, but there was nothing there. My heart pounded in my chest and I knew that I had to get out of there as fast as I could. I grabbed my dog's leash and started running, not looking back until I was safely back in my own yard. When I locked the door behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still out there, waiting for its chance to strike. As the night went on, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still out there, waiting for me. Every time I heard a noise, my heart skipped a beat and I found myself jumping at every shadow.

Just as I was settling down to watch TV, I heard a tapping sound on the window. At first, I thought it was just a branch blowing in the wind, but the tapping continued, growing louder and more persistent. I stood up, my heart racing, and went to investigate. As I peered out the window, I saw a dark humanoid figure standing there, staring back at me with a sinister smile on its face. I froze in terror, unable to move as the figure continued to tap on the window. Suddenly, the power flickered and went out, plunging the room into darkness. Panicked, I fumbled for my phone to call for help, but when I tried to turn it on, the battery was dead.

I was completely isolated, with no way to call for help. I backed away from the window, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew that I had to find a way to get out of there, but I had no idea where to go or what to do. As the dark figure continued to tap on the window, I knew that I was trapped, with nowhere to hide from the terror that lurked outside. I was shaking with fear as I heard the doorknob rattle and the door cracking under the pressure of the dark figure outside. I had no idea what to do, and I knew that I was completely helpless against whatever was trying to get in. Just when I thought all was lost, everything went silent. I held my breath, straining to hear any sign of movement.

For several long minutes, there was nothing but silence. I was starting to wonder if the figure had given up and gone away, when there was a knock at the door. I froze, unsure of what to do. Finally, mustering up all of my courage, I crept to the door and looked through the people. To my relief, I saw a police officer standing there. I opened the door and the officer explained that he had been driving by when he saw a figure on the roof of my house with all the lights out. He had come to investigate and make sure everything was okay. I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the officer for his help.

As I watched him drive away, I knew that I had been lucky to escape the terror that lurked in the woods that night. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone in the darkness, and that something was still out there, waiting for its chance to strike again. After the police officer left, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still out there, waiting for me. Despite my exhaustion, I found it impossible to fall asleep, and I spent the rest of the night tossing in bed, my mind racing with the events of the evening. As the dawn broke, I finally fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by nightmares of dark figures and sinister smiles. When I woke up, I was covered in sweat and my heart was pounding in my chest. I knew that I couldn't stay in that

house any longer, not with the threat of whatever was out there hanging over my head. So I packed my bags and left, vowing to never return to that dark, haunted place again. I moved to a new city and tried to put the events of that summer evening behind me, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still out there, watching me, waiting for its chance to strike again. And every time I heard a tap on the window or a rustle in the bushes, I couldn't help but wonder if it was the dark figure, come to claim me once and for all. I grew up in a small valley in the mountains. No matter where you looked to, would be in Caste in mountains. Although, not in the middle of nowhere, the nearest town was about a 30-minute

drive or a 50-minute bus journey, closest city being a two-hour journey excluding the wait for transport. The valley had its fair share of children my age too, about 30 children in my class growing up. Despite the amount of children my age, I never got along with any of them. I never really had access to much technology either. I'm part of that one generation where we grew up both playing outside and on technology. I never got access to the internet until I was 12, excluding using family computers. I was lucky enough to have the forest to explore. So, when I was old enough, I would be allowed to take my dog to the forest to explore at my own will. Since I had gone there so much as a child and was usually responsible, I was allowed to explore alone when I was eight.

The forest was close to my home, and if I wasn't backed by dark family members who knew the forest as well as I did would know where to look. Since then, I've always been fond of the forest. I graduated primary school and went to a comprehensive school about 20 minutes away. Then I made a few friends, but they all lived too far away to hang out regularly. I'd either play video games or explore the forest alone. By the time I was 15 I had been to every part and knew it off by heart. I knew the terrain of each part too and had different landmarks.

Through all of these years spending hours a day in the forest, I never saw anything I could call weird or out of place. Okay, so I found a few animal carcasses, and that was a little disturbing first time I came across one. But foxes lived in the forest. As much as I wanted to take a few bones as a trinket from my disturbing find I knew to leave it be. I didn't want a disease even if it let me skip school. When I was 16, people began to cut down the forest. I'm not sure why, but since I've been. was the only one enraged by this I assumed it was bound to happen. The forest lost its beauty

aside from a few chunks of forestry still standing. So, I'd still spend time in those, but it was nowhere near as fun. I knew there was bound to be less wildlife, but the forest felt a lot more dead than I expected. I remember hearing that the company cutting down the trees quit for no reason. They refused to specify why they'd quit, but I'm grateful they stopped as my favorite tree remained standing. It would have been cut if they hadn't stopped. Now, I've caught you up with everything important to this story. Here's the whole reason I'm telling this to you.

I still kept doing my regular walks through the forest, but this time I would always be followed by a sense of dread. One specific day during late August I had an argument with my family. This was a regular thing, so I went off to the mountain to just walk and calm down. Since my parents go to sleep relatively early, 9 p.m., and it would remain light until 10 p.m. during summer. I decided I'd stay until about 9 p.m. and get home by 9.30. It was about 8.45 when I sat down by my favorite tree for a cigarette. Yes, I know smoking is bad for you, especially starting at such a young age, but at the time I couldn't have cared less. I lit my cigarette

and put the lighter down next to my feet. The sense of dread came, but by this point I knew how to ignore it or just drowned out with music. I sat there and chilled for a little bit, just enjoying the scenery I've seen hundreds of times. It was getting dark, but only a little. I looked down to a part of the forest where a small stream ran through, and sheep usually roamed.

If you go a bit onwards from there, you can find this awesome rock. It's huge. As I stared and contemplated, going to the rock after my break, I saw something move. It was tall. I could tell that as it moved through the trees,

but I couldn't make out what it was. Before I could realize that whatever I was witnessing was probably supposed to scare me, it was gone. Odd, but I ignored it. About ten minutes later, I decided to head to the rock. It would be an easier journey home if I did, and I got to see the cool rock, so what's the harm? Well, quite a lot. I cut through some trees and down a slope, then I followed the stream down. I passed where I saw the shadow move and the sense of dread became overbearing.

My mind ran back to the shadow I saw wandering and I tried to shake it off, not being a believer in the paranormal. I thought even if the paranormal were real, if they roam this forest I certainly would have noticed sooner. I spent my whole childhood up here. I came towards the rock and climbed on top of it like usual. There's a stunning view of the mountains if you know what trees to look through and the added height from the rock helps so much. Though what I least expected to see was the shadow. It moved quite slowly as if being careful. Now I had a good sense of its size due to it being a lot closer than before.

It was tall, looked like a deer, but stood on its back legs and had human hands. A pair of antlers, long and winding, stood on top of its head. Once it noticed me, it stood still and stared. Standing on the rock usually made me feel tall, but I never felt smaller than during that moment. We stood there, both still, for a moment. The creature began to move towards me faster than when it had been exploring. I stumbled off of the rock and landed awkwardly on my ankle. I groaned in pain, knowing it was sprained at the very least.

I'd sprained my ankle before and recognized the pain. The creature didn't pity my condition, it kept moving towards me. We were now face-to-face, somehow, despite how it was still supposed to be somewhat daylight for a couple more hours, the forest became dark. I stared the creature in the face, how I wish I hadn't. If I hadn't looked at its face, I wouldn't have seen those small yellow eyes or that mouth. The mouth was the worst, it was large and wide, with many sharp, pointy teeth all out of place. They were stained yellow and had traces of crimson on the canines.

This creature was not friendly. I scrambled to my feet and as I did it swung its arm for me, barely missing. I turned my phone light on and sprinted away, not even daring to look back. I never wanted to see whatever the hell that was again. I got to an opening and it was light again. I was confused and turned back, the creature backing away into its dark patch of forest. I don't hesitate to run home and I go straight to my room.

My ankle was still in a lot of pain, so I just stayed in bed whilst rummaging my bag for the painkillers I always carried around. When night came, I was too disturbed to sleep. I heard a scraping noise outside my window and my mind ran to all of the worst possible. ideas. Even so, I looked out and there it was. Those horrible teeth and everything. I quickly turned on my bedroom light, limping to my light switch, of course, and it ran away. I've learned something important. It does not like light. Since then, it has followed me to dark places. I have to keep a flashlight on me and I keep a small lamp on by my window to scare it away,

but I know that one day it will get me and I am terrified of it. So, learn from me. If you You are exploring out in nature and you feel a sense of dread. Get out of there. You don't know what you may find. It is a nice summer day. The breeze is great. The smell of flowers grazed my nose, looking in the man-made pond in my backyard. The trees and I mirrored back.

The calm rippling water as the fish swim. What a nice day for a hike I thought. I checked my weather app too in case of any weather changes or weather alerts. My app said there was a 70% chance of light rain, which is first. with me. Who doesn't love a little rain? The smell and the feel. I live in an area surrounded by trees and nature. It is honestly such a beautiful land for living. I know the area like the back of my hand and we have a set of two trails, a shallow creek that leads you to a beautiful opening in the mountaintops, all tied off with a do not trespass sign, so the land is all for me

and my family and the animals. Today I made my way to Trail One. Trail one is about a 10-mile trail all around. It circles around a small neighborhood about four miles out. I am familiar with a lot of people around in this neighborhood considering I walk these trails almost every weekend. There is a nice man who lives in a small blue house with a garden in his front lawn. He always waves as I'm passing by while watering his flowers. Before I started my hike, I picked up a small backpack to take with me. In this backpack I have three water bottles, two granola bars, and a small pocket knife. Starting the trail with a smile on my face, I was excited. The weather is perfect. I can see and hear the birds, the squirrels scrambling up the trees shaking the leaves as I pass by, and the sound of the small animals

rustling in the bushes trying to hide from me. After a good 22 minutes into my hike I was one mile in. I stopped to take a sip of water and to take a short breather. I sat on the small stub that I passed by where a withered tree had used to stand, but has now fallen due to a strong thunderstorm we had a few months back. While sitting I see a cute little bunny passing, how fluffy and fragile I thought. I cracked open my first water bottle with my teeth and founted it into my mouth, but that's when I heard it. A loud ear shrieking scream from deep from within the woods, the bunny now scared off, and me standing up looking around pondered on the thought of what that might be. I can't think of any animals that live in these woods that could make such a sound.

I try to dismiss it as it may be a group of teens who found their way into the woods, ignoring the no trespassing sign. Continuing with my hike, I was now nearing the neighborhood with the crunch of gravel and leaves under my feet. What a satisfying sound, until it was interrupted with that ear-bleeding screech again. God, what the hell could make that noise? It was louder this time, still trying to wrap my head around what that awful noise was. I continue through the woods paranoid that's when the rain starts falling. I see something in the corner of my eye.

A figure as fast as lightning launching itself through the woods too fast to see and too far gone to be identifiable. Maybe it was a fox. Well, if it wanted to hurt me, it wouldn't be running away from me. Right. Again, that screaming sound, but this time it is near, right behind me. It hurt. I slipped in the mud and fell to the ground as I held my ears covering them with my hands, almost crying, lying on the ground, letting the rain hit my face. The pain. My ears now ringing due to that noise, like shattering glass. I stood up glancing around even more paranoid than before. I then took the time to look down at my hands, crimson everywhere. My ears are bleeding, and that's when I saw them. In the corner of my eye, I looked up. Many figures stood in the distance. behind trees watching me. Very tall, at least nine feet each,

lengthy and skinny. They are the color of a black void. I will never forget their eyes. They were pure white. Staring into them is giving me the most uncomforting, unwhelcoming feeling. It was like they want me gone, like they want me to get out.

As if this is their woods and their land. Their arms were long, nearly dragging on the ground. Their hands were claws, oh so very sharp and disgustingly long. One of them slowly started dragging their claws on the tree, leaving a scratch mark and that awful screaming noise, which I now know was coming from them in their unhinged mouths. One started tilting its head slowly, while doing so its neck made a cracking sound,

stretching and growing in length making a breaking and snapping sound as it got longer and taller. I had no plans to stay and try to make friends with these ungodly creatures. I just want to get the hell out. I started to run and I didn't look back. I heard the leaves and plants getting mauled through from behind as if something was chasing me. Don't look back. I repeat it to myself, but I'm curious and an idiot. Letting my curiosity get the best of me. I turned around for a split second, and that's when I saw six giant beastly creatures charging at me like a wolf pack chasing a small bunny.

Their claws digging into the dirt launching themselves forward to get closer to me. One of them hooked my shoulder with their claws dragging me down to the ground. I hit my head so hard onto the rock below me I blacked out for a second. While having whiplash in my instinct for survival, I remembered my pocket knife. No, I forgot my backpack. I looked back up to a giant creature taking me down, slowly moving in towards my face with its unhinged jaw drooling over me, letting its awful horrid breath that smelled like roadkill fill my nose. This is it.

I know this is about to be my end. It's about to sink its teeth into me. At this point I'd do anything to just survive. I am not about to be this thing's dinner. I bent my knees into my chest and kicked the creature in the stomach. During the creature's confusion and vulnerability, it loosened its grip of me and I managed to get one of my arms free. I started to jab it in the sides with my fists and started to scratch at its eyes. It shrieked in pain and let go of me.

I scrambled up and bolted back through the woods finally making it to the small neighborhood. I ran up to the old man gardening and begged him to help me. He hurried me inside, fixed up my wounds, and let me rest in his basement on his couch. When I was feeling a little better, I explained everything that had happened and he looked at me terrified. I'm going to be sick. He said holding his mouth running to the kitchen sink. I hurried over to him asking what was going on. He then said to me, he saw a windigo.

You're lucky to have even made it out of its grasp. I'm now writing this one year into the future, and I still hear those awful screaming noises from deep within the forest. Every now and then, I still feel like I'm being watched. Christmas has never been my favorite holiday. Yeah, I love free stuff, but it feels like the amount of money I spend always out values the gifts I get. Other than that, I just don't prefer to hang around a large part of my family, especially for large gatherings. A large part of my family sees our gatherings as a perfect, excuse to get blackout drunk and talk angrily at each other over politics and all other manner

of controversial topics. My family's Christmas gathering five years ago was no different. I'd flown down to my grandmother's house in southern Florida as the plan was for everyone to meet there and get their fill of food and drinks before finding their way home. I only stayed at my grandma's house for about an hour the previous year, so my mom asked that I stay longer this time. According to her, everyone loved seeing me. Although, I debate they were too busy arguing what current trend was ruining the world. I ended up staying until about 10 before asking my mom if she could give me a ride back to my hotel, since I got a lift there originally.

She told me that she wanted to stay for a couple more hours, and suggested I try taking the bus to save money instead of ordering another lift. Honestly, anything to get me out of that house would have come off as a good idea. I remembered seeing the bus stop on my way to my grandmas, and the walk to it didn't seem like it would be too far. So off I went. At the time it seemed like a perfectly good idea. I didn't know the bus schedule or how long they even ran, but I was willing to take my chances. While walking back to my dorm in the middle of December would cause me to freeze.

Luckily winter in Florida rarely drops below 70 degrees. It was honestly a relaxing walk, taking in the nighttime air and quiet. I'd started daydreaming about my class schedule next semester before I realized I could make out the bus stop about 30 feet in front of me. I swore under my breath as I realized someone was sitting there. As much as I hated being around my drunken family, I hated awkward stranger small talk even more. The closer I got, the easier it was to make out the person sitting there.

She appeared to be a kindly lady in our mid to late 60s. Her hair was a large ball of silver and dark brown with a large pair of furrow. thick-rimmed glasses on her face. I have to admit it took me a good while to make out anything other than the bright pink coat she was wearing. For me, 70 degrees was shorts and t-shirt weather, but I suppose it wasn't unheard of to see an older person wearing a sweater anywhere that wasn't 90 degrees. I got within a couple steps of the bus stop bench before the lady turned to acknowledge me. She gave me a very warm, low and happy holidays, but I returned, along with an awkward grin. I tried not to stare, but what I thought was a pink sweater was actually a thick pink fur and feather coat.

I had honestly never seen anything like it. A majority of the coat was made of pink fur, but the collar sprouted enough feathers to cover five or six birds. Dangling from her neck was a long pearl necklace with some sort of elongated bird skull in the middle of it. In my head I wondered if she was into exotic fashion, or perhaps a huge bird lover. The sound of her loudly blowing her nose made me jump in. shook me from my own thoughts. How was your evening, sweetheart? Her voice was dry but friendly, with an accent I couldn't quite place. I told her it was fine and returned the question, to which she launched into a wordy recollection of her entire day. I zoned out somewhere around

her getting to the middle of her day and kept eye contact while randomly nodding. Where is your family now? Surprised by the sudden change of topic, I responded by jokingly telling her that they were at my grandmother's house drunkenly singing Christmas carols. She laughed and muttered something about how charming that was. I checked my phone and saw only a couple of minutes had passed and didn't hear or see any signs that a bus was coming anytime soon. I remember my eyes starting to feel really heavy. I shook my head, trying to wake myself up, but the feeling stayed. Excuse me, have you see my bird? I looked at the lady again and she had a look of panic and confusion on her face. Honestly, I probably did too. My bird was in his cage, but now he's gone.

I looked on the ground and a large old-fashioned bird cage sat between the woman's legs. How long had it been there? I was pretty sure I hadn't noticed a big metal bird cage before. It was hard to remember or even think because the tiredness I'd started feeling morphed into a slight feeling of vertigo. It felt like the ground around me had begun to slowly spin. Ah, I see him. There's my time. There's my Darling, the lady was on her feet now, pointing across the street. Her voice sounded raspier as if at some point in the last two minutes she had turned into a chain smoker. I followed her finger and saw she was pointing at something standing in the tall grass across the street. I couldn't make out what the figure was, but I was positive it was inhuman.

It had wide, blocky shoulders and a long, wiry neck attached to a large circular head. The area of tall grass the figure stood and was covered in shadow, so I couldn't make out any other details. Through the shadow I could swear the figure was staring directly at us. Did you please go grab him, sweetheart? The lady's voice seemed to be coming from inside my own head, and without even realizing it, I felt myself moving toward the figure covered in shadow.

As I got closer to the thing it shifted so that its entire body was facing me, it twitched and shook as if electricity was coursing through it. The closer I got, the faster my heart would beat. the more some kind of instinct inside me screamed that I was making a bad decision, but I couldn't stop myself. It was almost as if I had developed an obsession with reaching whatever this thing was. I was halfway across the street and a sudden shift in the moonlight illuminated the creature enough that I got a look at something that could only have been born from a nightmare. It spread its arms like it was stretching a pair of wings.

Its skin a pale blue and stretched tight over its thin frame. Long stringy pink feathers sprouted from all over its body. Its long snake-like neck waved and slithered through the air, a head that resembled a pink human skull never broke eye contact with me. Its tiny eyes that glowed a bright red. I couldn't stop myself from walking forward. I couldn't break my focus away from the glowing red eyes of whatever thing stood in the grass in front of me. Its neck stretched outward towards me, shortening the distance until we were face to face.

The loud and long blare of a bus's horn caused me to trip and fall backwards. The horn split me from whatever trance I was in, and I looked around to see the bus stopped and waiting behind me at the bus stop. I hadn't heard it pull up, I didn't even know how long it had been there. I twisted myself around and didn't see the old lady in the pink feather coat. Remembering the creature, I turned and was met by a tall man standing just outside the tall grass. He wore tattered clothing covered by a hood adorned in writings and pink. feathers. Several large bird skills hung from a thick rope necklace and several straps across his

chest. I had slowly started backing away before the man lunged at me, a curved knife in one hand. I scrambled to my feet and sprinted to the bus, struggling not to trip. The driver looked at me with confusion and worry on her face, asking several questions. Did I take something, and did I know that man, among the first? I stuttered and rambled spitting out a bunch of random words, eventually she simply waved me to the back. I was the only one on the entire bus. Still no sign of the old lady. The bus dropped me a block or so from my hotel,

and thankfully I made it to my room without any more incidents. I don't think I'll ever forget the look of that thing standing in the grass. Something that haunts me as much as that creature is the fact that three people in that area disappeared that night. I always wonder if maybe those three people weren't so lucky as to break that creature's gaze. It all started when my grandparents decided that our old house wasn't big enough for our growing family. Even though it was a decent size, my grandma loved to close the door at night, meaning that she wanted to be alone after a day of socializing with family and friends.

And as an introverted Aquarius myself, I understood her completely and was very grateful when she granted me and my brother a small plot of land behind the main house. It was far enough away that it would seem like its own, more than just an extension of the old house, and me and my brother got to pick out the design and interior ourselves. Big decisions for a couple of teenagers, might I add. We felt very important and responsible. The only thing was, when we started on the constructions, something seemed off. Tools kept breaking or going missing.

We began to blame each other. The struggle was unbearable, and we even talked about dropping the whole project. But then we finally finished, and we felt relieved. That feeling was short-lived though. The first couple of months, there was all these sounds. Knocks on doors, scratching on the walls, sounds from the roof, and even the eerie feeling of someone stalking you from the main house to the cabin. When it was dark outside, none of us dared to make the track from the main house up to the cabin alone.

Not without at least our dogs, a strong flashlight and phone with one of the adults from the main house on the line. We tried to laugh it off, telling each other that it was just the normal sounds of the sound. of a new house settling in and that the fear of the track to and from the cabin was just our minds playing games in the dark. The adults even told us to grow up, saying that it was childish of us and that, if we wanted to live like adults and have our own home, we should act like adults too. And for a second I thought that they were right. But then one night, my brother, my boyfriend, and I witnessed the most eerie thing I can imagine.

We were just about to turn the corner of the main house. My boyfriend was holding the flashlight, my brother used his phone as a light and I was carrying some snacks and a blanket while looking after two of our dogs that we always had with us. Suddenly both of the dogs stopped dead in their tracks, hairs standing up on both of them and they started growling at something in the dark. My boyfriend and brother positioned themselves with me in between and then used their lights to search the perimeter for the source of my dog's behavior. At first glance nothing was out of the ordinary, but then my boyfriend caught some of the

something in the lights that looked more like a shadow than anything. The dog started barking and it was a struggle for me to hold them back, not wanting to let them go after whatever this was. My brother started yelling, we see you, fool. Show yourself or we will release the dogs on you and call the cops. But whatever it was, just turned away from us and ran behind our cabin. Both boys then decided to charge after the shadow, my dog's nearly going crazy by my side. I decided to let go of one of them, with the guys and protect them while the other one stayed at my sight, as loyal and fierce as ever, which I couldn't say for myself at that moment. Alone in the dark, with only my dog as my protector and no light, since I was carrying

the snacks while the boys had the flashlights, I was scared senseless. I tried to listen to the sound of the boys and the dog, not wanting them to get hurt but also feeling very helpless in the dark if anything were to happen. I suddenly heard something rustling in the bushes near me. In a split second, I felt everything from relieved to scared to panicked and I couldn't feel my heart or catch my breath. My dog went dead silent beside me, pressing up against me, trying to herd me towards the main house, safety.

Instead of obeying, I turned towards the sound, not wanting anything creeping up on me. I would at least look the danger right in the eye when it came from me. I am not afraid of you, I said into the dark, convincing enough in my tone that I surprised myself. I even felt like my dog acknowledged my strength for its second and stood its ground with me, and for a second everything went dead silent. Not even the wind dared to whisper. Then, my other dog came out of the bush behind me, followed by both my brother and boyfriend. All of them panting like crazy. Who are you talking to? My boyfriend asked, bending over and grappling his knees while he tried to catch his breath. I didn't answer him. I just went to my dogs to look for

injuries and praising them for their bravery. Then doing the same to the guys, expect not praise, but yell at them for leaving me and putting themselves in danger. We then walked the rest of the way to our cabin, checking every window, door and of course, under the beds. But the whole time, I felt like something was watching from the bushes, trying to figure out what it was that wasn't afraid of the dark. My dog who was missing for five months returned home one morning. This is an account of the first two nights at home with him. I was just about to put on a pot of coffee when something brown caught my eye right outside the kitchen window. At the first glance, I thought I must have left a coat out on the porch, but upon closer investigation, I realized it wasn't a code after

all but something alive. I nearly leapt through the glass when it hit me that I recognized this animal. On the porch was my dog, Moose, who disappeared one night five months ago. I'll never forget that day. I came home from a late shift at work to a vacant house. Moose was always there to greet me at the door wagging his bushy tail with his tongue hanging slightly out of the left side of his jaw. That night, though, it was deathly silent. My attempts at calling his name were never answered.

I searched my house front to back at least ten times. When that didn't pan out, I took my search outside where I covered the yard. then expanded my search into the nearby woods. I never found a trace of where he might have gone. The following days were spent calling anyone I could think of in putting up posters everywhere. My efforts never bore any fruit. My soul was crushed. It was as if moose vanished into thin air. Now though, there he was, curled up into a ball on my porch. I flung the door open with enough force it threatened to fly off the hinges and wrapped him in my arms. After I completed my warm reunion with my dog, pulled away and took a good look at him. I noticed that he hadn't wagged his tail or made any

sort of noise at all like he normally did, which made me worry. Hugging him felt like I was wrapping my arms around a statue. Then I noticed something that made me scream. His eyes were gone. They looked like they had been deliberately taken out of him, not like anything that could have been caused by an accident. A feeling of shock took over me, which slowly dissolved into rage. What kind of twisted individual would do this to an animal? Worried for his health, I decided my best plan of action would be to take him to the vet. Moose didn't complain or admit any kind of emotion as I picked him up and put him in the back seat of my car. I honestly felt so bad for him.

I had no idea what he might have gone through. I knew whatever had happened wasn't pleasant at all. In my mind, I pictured a small rusted cage where he was tormented day and night. I bit down hard enough on my tongue that I tasted iron. and tried my best to shake these kinds of thoughts out of my mind. It wasn't going to do me any good to think like that. I was just happy Moose was back. An uneasy feeling crept up me as I drove.

My eyes shifted upwards to the rearview mirror where I looked at Moose in the backseat. When I did I nearly swerved off the road. His head was tilted slightly at an odd angle that made it appear as if he was staring right back at me through his hollow eyes. I refrained from looking again for the rest of the ride. We finally made it to the vet and I took him in.

I got the vet to do a full checkup on him to make sure nothing else was wrong with him. I was told he was in good health, aside from the fact that my dog was now blind. I received some medicine to help prevent any infection in his eyes in a pamphlet about living with a blind pet, with tips on ways to improve their quality of life. I finally got Moose home after the long ride where I focused all my attention staring at the road, Letting Moose out of the car I noticed he seemed to have no problem whatsoever getting up the stairs and making his way into the house, which sort of freak me out. I just assumed he had memorized the layup because he's been there so long. That night I double-checked every possible way out of my house to be sure everything was locked.

I didn't just get him back so he could wander out an open window or door. Moose tried to follow me to bed like he always did, but I lead him out and back to the couch. It was harder for me to find sleep than I anticipated. The feeling of eyes on me kept me up. I kept looking through my cracked bedroom door, almost anticipating someone being there. Eventually, though, my eyes closed and I drifted off. I woke up sometime early in the morning right as the sun was trying to breach the horizon.

I reached over to check the time on my phone. Before I got to my phone a shape outlined and my doorway caught my attention, I turned my head to see moose peeking through my crack door looking dead at me. He was barely illuminated, but I could tell something was wrong about his outline. He looked bigger and his silhouette contained sharp protrusions shooting out of it. My heart raced upwards as I took in the sight before me. I guess he somehow noticed me looking because he slowly disappeared past the door. I heard floorboards bend and creak as he made his way back down the hall.

I laid in my bed while after the sun came up. I cracked my door and tiptoed into the living room where I saw Moose sitting at the front door. He looked like he should. I felt like a fool for being scared of my own dog. His head turned as I entered and I walked over to pat him on the head. I was relieved I didn't walk in to see some mutated horror that was once my dog. I tried to shift the blame on me still being half asleep. A little while later I got ready and left for work.

Before I did, I made sure Moose had some food and water, then told him goodbye and left. for my shift. The whole time I was at work I couldn't help but think back on what I had seen that morning. I was just seeing things right. When I pulled into my driveway that afternoon, I saw Moose looking out through the living room window at me. I say looking because the way his head was facing the window peering out at me in my car. It was like I could feel his sight on me. I tried to ignore the goosebumps breaking out over my body as I got out of my car and headed for the front door. I watched the window and as my foot landed on the first step and Moose hopped down from the window.

I knew where he was heading. Right as I opened the door, Moose was there. I was happy for a moment because it reminded me of how it always was before he vanished. I walked past him and gave him a pat on the head and told him he was a good boy. Sure, he unnerved me a little, but I could never be scared of Moose. I still remember the day my parents brought him home from the shelter, since then he's always been by my side. The rest of the evening was uneventful.

I cooked dinner and gave Moose a healthy scoop of dog food that he practically inhaled. Me and Moose sat in the living room with a movie playing. I have the weekend off so I had a few drinks during the movie. I noticed Moose was acting strange. Looking over at him, he was stiff as a board peering out the window into the night. Like he was seeing something out there. When the movie finally ended along with my drinks, Moose was still looking outside. I figured I would give the yard a once over with the flashlight to calm my nerves.

I grabbed the flashlight I kept under the sink and opened my front door to peer out into the abyss that my yard became after sundown. My house is positioned a good ways off from the road so the street lamp's glow doesn't reach it. I scanned the tree line trying to see if anything was out there. Staring out I felt as if the trees themselves were looking back at me. After a few minutes of scanning back and forth I gave up. Whatever had Moose so spooked was beyond me. I got back inside and was getting ready for bed while Moose was still looking out the window. The only time he got up was to follow me into my bedroom, where I walked him back out to the couch and told him good night.

That night I woke up to Moose barking. I leaned over to grab my phone, which told me it was 3.15 a.m. I hurried out of my room but froze halfway down the hallway. There was something off with Moose's barking. It was like he was reaching a lower octave. with each bark. It didn't sound like it used to either. There was something predatory about it. I slowly reached the end of the hall and peered around the wood paneling to get a look at where moose was. When I saw moose, I nearly cried out, but stopped myself with a hand over my mouth.

He looked as if he had put on at least 50 pounds, but that wasn't all, though. His back was arched upward like a cat when it scared and parts of his spine had broken through the skin. Each exposed vertebra was sharp and serrated. His teeth were bared with his mouth curled into a snarl. I was so close to his bark now that it seemed to shake my very being. His attention wasn't on me though. His body was positioned facing the window, the same one he couldn't take his eyes off earlier. This time it wasn't only the darkness looking back beyond the window, it was accompanied by two white eyes and a manic smile.

My heart nearly jumped into my throat when I saw it. Then his gaze which was fixed on moose shifted over to me, and this time I wasn't fast enough to suppress my scream. Moose began to turn around. His head turned with his body as he stood mere feet from me, empty sockets instantly locking with my eyes. He stared intently for what felt like forever until I heard a knock at the door,

followed by what sounded like stifled laughter, like a hand clasped over a mouth only allowing little pieces of it to escape. My attention shifted from Moose to the front door as the knocking began to grow louder. Moose whirled around to face the door and began barking again. I just stood there shaking, I couldn't move. My heartbeat was in my ears and I was sure it was about to give out.

The laughing grew and grew as I saw the doorway start to give under this person's in human strength. The door cracked and splintered as the man's red-soaked hands began to appear from the other side. Moose was growling something guttural and low as the man reached one of his arms through the new hole in my door trying to open the door, ripping off little ribbons of flesh as he worked his way down. Laughter exploded into the room as the man's grip finally found the inside lock and began to turn. Horror possessed my entire being as the door slowly opened up to show a man who was at least seven feet tall and bone thin. He stood right in the doorway with one of his crimson covered hands over his mouth cackling like a disturbed child. There you are. Those were the only words that escaped his lips before Moose launched himself at him.

The man went completely airborne when Moose struck him. He crashed through the railing on the porch and was swallowed up by the darkness beyond. Moose trailed right behind him into the abyss. I sat there with my now empty bladder as the laughter from the man and Moose's howls grew quieter and quieter. How long I sat motionless before moving again as anyone's guess. When I regained myself, the only thing I could think of to do was call the police. I repeated the night's events, only leaving out the part about what happened. to Moose. I doubt they would believe that. At the time I wasn't sure I believed what I had seen either.

I just told them that Moose chased him off and hasn't come back. It wasn't long before I heard sirens and blue lights fill my yard. They asked me a few questions before a few officers went and scanned the surrounding woods and streets. I sat in my kitchen on a stool trying to process what had just happened. The sun rose before I heard any news. It didn't calm my nerves in the slightest. I was told they found signs of a struggle in multiple locations, but never found the man I described. There was no sign of moose either. A detective gave me his number and told me to call him if anything came up and with that, I was alone in my house.

Trying to do anything that would help me not be alone with my thoughts, I decided to go pick up a new door. There was no way on earth I was sleeping without one. Well, that's if I could even fall asleep. After a long and quiet trip to Lowe's, I came home and started my work. It was slow at first as I had no carpentry experience whatsoever, along with last night's events playing on an endless loop in my head. I found myself worrying about moose.

I was scared senseless the moment I saw him, but somehow I still thought of him as my dog. That night it felt like he was trying to protect me. I hoped he was okay. I wanted him back home, even though he wasn't the same dog I knew before he disappeared. I finished putting in the new door the best I could. I was honestly proud of myself.

It actually turned out better than I had hoped. The remainder of the day was spent periodically checking outside and doing chores around the house to quiet my thoughts. I had just finished eating dinner when I heard movement on my front porch. It was muffled behind the door, but I could tell something was there. Slowly rising to my feet, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen seeing that man man's crazed eyes and smile in my mind. My heart rate quickened as I held my breath while creeping up to the door. I was trying my best to stay calm, but I was losing the battle.

I slowly looked through the peephole in the door and dropped the knife to the ground. I didn't see the man from the night before, instead Moose was lying curled up on my welcome mat. All fear I had of him drained out of me as I opened the door and wrapped him in my arms, just like I had done when he showed up a few days ago. There were cuts all over him and a large, gash in his leg, which I quickly wrapped the best I could. Moose laid on the floor panting as I made him a meal and called the vet, completely forgetting that they weren't open. I just sat with him for a while to make sure he was okay until I noticed he had fallen asleep.

It's been a few weeks since then, now me and Moose are almost inseparable. Slowly as time passed, he began to act more lively like he was before he vanished. I haven't seen him in that form like he was that night. I still think about it every once in a while, but then I take a good look at him and honestly it doesn't really affect me anymore. I know Moose would never hurt me. Every night I still make sure my house is secure. Not to keep Moose in, but keep whoever showed up that night out. The police never found the man.

I still dream of that face in my window and it makes my blood turn to ice. One more thing that's changed. After that night, I no longer bar Moose from my bedroom at night. He follows me and lays on my room. on the new dog bed I have placed right beside me. Good boy. Everyone knows the feeling of hunger, and yet some have never seen it.

You yourself may have claimed to be starving, empty, famished, or hungry. But have you yourself ever encountered the merciless beast we call hunger? Have you ever considered that the thing you call starving is only the fingernail of the monster that plagues the minds and souls of the innocent and sane? Breathing down your neck and clawing at your skin

with crimson covered nails, desperate to get inside, only blocked from you gobbling down cheeseburgers, pizza and donuts. And yet a few have come close to hunger. Some of the worst instances of mass hunger known as famines have played dust for centuries. Ireland 1845, Russia 1921, China, 1959. And yet even in these stages of hunger,

when people's teeth were not and broken from eating leather and dirt and animals had a feast of the bones and human remains, Very few have ever seen hunger. Few have seen the Wendigo. All the Wendigo ever feels is hunger. That's because it is hunger. You may have heard of the Wendigo or seen drawings of it.

But for the few who have seen it, for most it was the last thing they ever saw. I haven't seen it. No. Thank God I haven't. Yet the old members in my family have stared at it in its hollow eyes. This is not my story. It's my father's. When I was around the age of 15, he told me to sit down next to him, pointing to the brown cloth chair.

I was old enough to know why he never lets me set foot in the woods. Why we never go up north, especially never when it's winter. I recorded it all. He requested for that, wanted a record of what happened to him, to make sure no one else went through it like he did. This is what he told me. Father's Story He takes out a cigarette and clicks a lighter until a side. small blaze and puts the small flame to his cigarette before starting. My uncle decided it was

time for me to visit the Great Lakes forests. He told me the woods were some of the most beautiful in the whole country. It took a lot of convincing until your grandfather decided it was fine for me to visit the north. Of course, when he made the decision, it was winter by then. The winter down here is a light breeze compared to the freeze up in the north. Cold days and dark icy nights. It's a wonder how the Native Americans managed to survive months of thick snow and the creatures that came with it. He pauses to take another puff of his cigarette before continuing. This didn't stop my uncle, who had prepared in case we had to go during the winter, for both me and him as if we were going to the Arctic, thick puffy jackets, boots, and gloves

as well as goggles in case we came upon a storm on a walk, as well as bearspray if we came across wild animals. He also packed something else, a desert eagle, the ones those cops have in the movies. He didn't actually expect to use it. It was just in case we came across a bear or links, and things got close and personal. He pauses and stares at his right foot. He definitely didn't think we needed it for something different. It was around mid-November when we took the plane to the state of Michigan. He had purchased a standard hotel room in a small town. He refused to say its name, and we spent a few days simply getting used to the sceneries of where we were. My uncle was right. It was beautiful. Actually, I don't even think the word beautiful cuts it.

I could see the edge of the forest by my window. The trees were tall, like long hairs protruding from the head of Mother Nature, and along those hairs light the fleas, squirrels, chipmunks, birds, and the occasional wolf and fox would pass by before despairing in the shadow of the trees. I'll tell you, even now I do miss seeing the trees and watching the wind blow the tall pines in harmony. He sighs and puts out his sig on his wooden chair, but I know I can never go back there. Almost every day we went on hikes with the snow crunching beneath our feet, stopping every so often to witness the wildlife.

Once or twice we came across a bear. I was scared of course, but my uncle had faced plenty in his time living there, so of course he knew what to do. Don't look them in the eyes he would whisper to me. as he pulled out his bear spray just in case, and eventually it would move along, searching for some berries to eat. It was around our second week there when my uncle decided to take me on my first night walk, so we put on our coats, snow boots, and brought along the bear spray in Desert Eagle. It was somehow even more gorgeous in the dark than it was in the day. The stars

flowed above us like fireflies welcoming us to the forest as the moon as big and bright as ever, hovered above us. We walked until until we walked until we were. we came upon a fork in the path. We usually would go left, as it's much longer so we could experience the forest more. But it was a lot colder than usual, so my uncle decided it was best to get back sooner rather than later. For some reason, the colder weather did hang in my mind for longer than it should have. Although the weather could be unpredictable, the weather news where I was, was more accurate than the ones down in the north. This thought slept my mind eventually, reasoning that every news channel got it wrong eventually.

So we continued, but as we went, it just kept getting colder and colder. By this point, my uncle repeatedly kept looking up at the sky, with a bewildered look on his face. Looking up, I saw not a single cloud in the sky. Nothing to indicate a snowstorm was coming, or anything that would cause the weather to get this cold. Soon my uncle put me close to him to make us warmer. It wasn't a long hike back, just a mile or so.

Then it was clear something was wrong, more than the weather. As we kept walking, we went faster. We heard something walking around us. My uncle jerked his head in that direction, instinctively pulling out his bear spray. Looking past him, I could clearly see several pairs of eyes in the shadow of the trees, moving fast and toward us. My uncle had quickly raised the bear spray and put himself in front of me, screaming to get back. Looking over, I could now clearly see it was a pack of wolves, mouths of the mouth of.

open, panting and stamping their feet on the ground, creating loud cracks as the snow fell beneath them. Looking up, Uncle had his finger straight on the bear spray trigger, ready to get them. Then the wolves ran right past us. They were maybe ten feet away from us at most, moving so fast I could feel a small gust of wind push against my face. My uncle put down the bear spray and looked around, complete utter confusion encompassing his whole face. That's when I saw more glowing eyes. He motions his hand in a circle around him. There had to be dozens of critters and birds running. They didn't even stop to look at us.

They were just getting away. All the animals I had feared, all the critters and birds, and all sorts of things in the woods I had stared at an amazement just days before. All of them were running. I had never seen anything like it in my life, nor did my uncle. He decided that it was time to go, most likely because whatever the animals were running from was something that we didn't want to come across. Now my uncle was someone that doesn't get scared easily.

From the stories your grandfather told me, he had faced death more times than he could count, coming across an angry grizzly, a hungry pack of wolves, and even someone pointing a gun at him. Even then, I didn't see fear in his face, but looking into his eyes, I could see worry, and that was all I needed to know. Our normal walk had turned into a jog, with uncle deciding that it would be faster to go off the trail through the woods. On the trail, there was a clear opening overhead for the light of the moon and stars to shine through. But off trail, the pine needles blocked most of the light that came through, with small beams piercing the thick hide every so often.

My uncle just kept walking straight towards the town. He probably just at half a mile left when he suddenly stopped, making me bump into his back. He didn't move, didn't even make a sound, almost like he had stopped breathing. Hey, I asked in a squally voice, I looked ahead of him, my heart pounding against my sternum as it felt like a bicycle pump. Up ahead was the outline of a person, though it was too far away to see any facial features or any features at all. It was about 30 seconds before my uncle started backing up, gesturing me to do the same. Hello, can we help you?

I heard it tremble. It was a small one, but it was enough to tell me everything I needed to know. My uncle, one of the coolest people I've ever known, was scared. Ever so slowly, my uncle put his hand behind his back, moving towards the bare spray. But my eyes nearly popped out when his hand went past the bear spray and moved toward the gun. I heard a snapping sound. Up ahead I heard what sounded like a small twig break. In breaking eye contact with my uncle's hand, I looked forward back at the figure.

He had taken a step forward, stepping on a small branch that poked out of the layer of snow. And with that step, there was a new feeling in the air. It wasn't the cold. It wasn't fear. It was hunger. In almost lustful amount of it. Look, my uncle said, as his hand still gradually moved towards the desert eagle, we don't want any trouble.

We're just trying to get back to town, so if you could please. He didn't get to finish his sentence. By this point my father stopped looking at me, instead looking out the window. It all happened too fast. First, there were the steps, fast, rampant. Each step came with a snarl. It was too fast for my uncle, too fast for me to process. What came next was the gunshot.

It rang off the trees, bouncing back into my ears, making them ring like a church bell. He got one shot off before it got to us. One shot off before it made him scream. It slammed into him, flinging both me and his gun to the left, slamming me on the ground with a loud thud. thud which knocked the wind right out of me. Oh God, the screams. It didn't get him quickly. I didn't see it happen, but I heard the crunch of teeth going through and meeting bone. It probably stopped there for a second to savor the taste against its rotten teeth before it continued. I'm glad I didn't see it happen, but I could damn well hear it. Splish and splash,

as crimson was everywhere. Prunch after crunch came, followed by popping sounds. I don't know how long I had my eyes closed, but the sounds were inhuman. I opened them. I was facing away from them and looking at a light that bounced off a silver object. The Desert Eagle. I stood up, still shaken from the fall. The funny thing was I wasn't scared. My brain must have taken a hit, making it difficult for me to process what was happening behind me. I took a casual step forward, towards the gun, cracking the snow beneath my feet, and that's when the crunching stopped. That's when I remembered where I was. We both turned around at the same time. Its eyes met mine, if you could call the mice. They were dark and hollow. Then there was the rest of its body.

I couldn't believe the thing that did that to my uncle was unbelievably skinny. Its ribs poked out of its chest, bones clearly seen through its slender arms and legs. There were antlers that looked like that of a deer protruding from its head. He pauses and thinks for a moment. No, it wasn't a head. It was his skull. That's what it looked like, a skull with deer antlers coming from the top of its head. And even as it crouched, I could see it was tall, even towering over me in that stance. We both stared at each other for what felt like ours, before it turned back around and continued getting what was left of my uncle. It didn't even care I was there. Why didn't it just attack me next, just get it over with. I didn't stop to ask these questions. I just turned,

picked up the gun, and ran. For a second I considered firing, but I don't even think bullets affected this thing. All I knew was I had to get away, so I kept running. What probably took just ten minutes felt like an eternity, and then I saw the lights of the town. I'm going to make it, I thought, hope, creeping up my spine and into my brain. And that's when I heard the distant footsteps. I turned around for a split second and felt that hope come crashing down all the way to my toes. There it was, probably just 500 feet away. I could see its eyes. They weren't glowing or anything. They were just so dark they stood out, even at night. Now it was running fast. I couldn't believe my eyes. I would bet all the money I have. This thing could easily beat a gazelle. I turned my head

back around and continued running, putting all my strength and energy into my legs to just get away from this thing. But the steps just kept getting closer. Now, I understand why it didn't get me before, because it knew that no matter how much I tried to run, it would never fail to catch me. And all of the sudden, it did. A jolt of pain went through my entire leg when it clamped down. This thing had unimaginable strength to pick me up and flung me several dozen feet. I landed head first, shock and pain spreading throughout my entire body, but soon the pain was going away as I felt myself slipping away out of consciousness. In the background, I heard it crunching. This is it. This is how I'm going to go. I believed it, I truly did. But then I heard it. Get up. It was my uncle.

You aren't going down that easy, are you? The words were all I needed. Every emotion in my body, hopelessness, fear, sadness, despair, were all replaced by one. Rage. I turned around and pointed the weapon, which I managed to keep a hold of. It turned, seemingly shocked that I had a weapon in my hand, but soon after it charged. I wasn't aiming for anything and fired, almost seemingly in slow motion. I saw it fly and go straight into the void that was its eyes. Time stopped for just a second.

Then it stumbled backward, grabbing its face. I then heard it scream. For the first time in the recording, I saw fear flicker in my father's eyes, and then he continues. When I saw it open its mouth, I expected a monstrous bellow or a loud shriek. But what came out was worse.

It wasn't the sound of a monster, but the sound of a people, hundreds of people, men and women screaming. But one scream remains in my mind forever. The only reason I can't ever forget what happened that day, I heard a specific scream come out of its mouth. The scream of my uncle.

The rage was gone and the terror returned. I got back up and continued running towards the light. I didn't want to get away from it. I just wanted to get away from the horrible screaming. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. No matter how fast I ran, the dream stayed the same. But then it changed, for it was no longer screaming of pain, but screams of rage.

I continued running. I had to get away. My leg was continuing to grow in pain as I continued running. My lungs went into overdrive as my body demanded a huge amount of oxygen that my lungs could not provide. I remember bursting through the woods, welcomed by the bright street lamps and the hard pavement beneath my boots. When I had burst through out of the woods, my body had used up all its strength, and I fell. The last memory I got before blacking out was the screech of tires, a man looking over me on the phone. and before I lost consciousness, I turned my head and turned toward the woods.

I saw it, standing there, one eye closed, staring at me. I didn't need to see its face to know what it felt. It was angry, and it was still hungry. I woke up the next day in the town's hospital. By that time, I had been out for three days. Your grandfather had flown over after he heard the news. I was greeted with his tears and his warm hug after he saw me awake. I told him in everyone else everything about the thing in Uncle.

They didn't believe me, probably thought the number of hits I took on my head made me imagine a bear as a monster. They did send out a search party. However, they didn't find it, but found what was left of Uncle. The rumors spread. He sighs, that Wendigo is probably still out there, continuing to get innocent people, continuing to hate me for being the one that got away. And there's more out there, more that will not stop him. until they are full, and they are never full, and never will be. He pauses. The most disturbing thought I have

is that of my uncle's voice in my head when that windigo had me on the ground. Sometimes I think, was it actually my uncle's voice telling me to get up? Or was it that thing telling me to get up, wanting me to put up a little more fight? I guess I'll never know. Excluding some tropical species, such as coconut and banana trees, no tree can survive long without branches. And yet, defying all explanation, I saw a pair of branchless oak trees in the summer of 2015. When I use the word branchless, I'm not referring to a stump or a tree that has shed its leaves during the winter. I'm talking about two 15-foot-tall tree trunks, both sporting identical pointed peaks and surfaces of jagged bark. No branches or leaves, no severed branch stumps on the bark that would indicate the old oaks had ever been anything other than monolithic plants.

Bizarre, I chuckled. Not necessarily riveting dinner talk, I know. Believe me, I wouldn't be recounting the tale if it had ended there. I chose to follow the overgrown footpath between the two pillars of bark, rather than the well-maintained public footpath, which led far away from the ominously bare trunks. I've always been an antagonist, so I suppose I wanted to satiate my hungry ego by taking the less-trodden path.

Unknown tourist, I inwardly scoffed. Hubris always comes before the fall, or, as my son would say, I had succumbed to main character energy. I wish I'd taken the popular path. I waded through leaves and moss, and the undergrowth crunched beneath my walking boots. I had no intended destination in mind. I was just looking for somewhere to set up my base camp. I knew how to retrace my steps.

I saw no harm in taking a mystery trail. From time to time, I simply like to separate myself from the world. I venture on solo camping trips to clear my life. head. My wife and children don't take much interest in nature, so it's not that I purposefully exclude them. Frankly, I thank God that they weren't with me on this particular trip. Whilst camping in the middle of a clearing, I was awoken by rustling sounds outside my tent. I tried to ignore them, squeezing my eyelids together and angrily attempting to force myself back to sleep. Frustration quickly turned to fear. The noises that engulfed my tent were unlike any I'd ever

heard. High-pitched squeals, similar to trainer-souls squeaking against a hardwood floor, were emitted from every direction. Heart racing at a tremendous pace, I sat upright and stared at the fragile wall of material that was separating me from whatever unidentifiable things were out there. Very little moonlight reached the clearing. Thankfully, so the shadows that danced on the outer fabric of my tent were indistinguishable. That made it easier to tell myself the creatures were simply foxes. They were not foxes. I knew that. I used string to build a makeshift lock for the zipper on my tent. I didn't want anything opening the door to my vulnerable fortress. After that, I lay down and waited. The piercing yipping noises eventually quieted down, but I didn't immediately

fall asleep. I intended to stay awake all night, but I must have eventually passed out. I think terror can do that to a person. In the morning, I planned to leave the haunting woods and go home. You can imagine my horror when I unlocked my tent door and found that I was no longer in the forest clearing. My tent had been moved whilst I slept. More horrifyingly than that, I found myself stuck in a thick cluster of branchless trees. As far as the eye could see, I was surrounded by those eerily wrong oak trunks. I instantly packed my tent in belongings. I weave between the densely packed trees of the new branchless forest in which I found myself. No luck. I had completely lost my bearings. I had no idea where I'd been taken. The branchless forest was the same in every direction.

All I could see was endless bark. And, when the sun began to fall below the tip of the treetops, I realized I'd let the wintry day slip away from me. Night was approaching quickly, but that wasn't what terrified me most. The horrid squeals had returned. As the sun dipped lower and lower, the squeals multiplied and loudened. Before long, the sound was accompanied by rustling bushes. Panic turned me to stone. My walking slowed, and I started to believe I would never leave the forest. I was unbelievably happy when I found the stream, my saving grace. I couldn't find it on my map, but I didn't have time to think about the horrifying implications of that fact. Every stream has to lead somewhere, even in a dense landscape of alien trees. I had no idea which way to walk,

so I followed the stream east, trying fervently to ignore the cacophony of squirrel. wheels and rustling shrubbery. I pressed onwards. I was stumbling around in complete darkness at this point, guided only by the dim light of my cheap torch. After an hour of walking, I finally found something promising. A cave. I didn't plan on entering it, but I welcomed any sort of landmark that could break the monotony of ceaseless tree trunks. My victorious moment was short-lived, however, as I was interrupted by small, pattering sounds from behind me. I quivered as I twisted around and moved my torchlight towards the source of the sound, finding myself gazing upon a terrifying gaggle of two dozen tiny humanoid creatures. Each one was about 30 centimeters tall,

had two ant-like feelers, in lieu of eyes, and brandished a ghoulish set of black fangs. Each one also had four vaguely human arms, along with two vaguely human legs. As they walked towards me, they dropped forwards and used all six limbs to scurry like insects. I backed away incredibly slowly, almost too petrified to move. My torch shook violently in my near numb hand. In a flood of sound and a flash of rapid movement, one of the fiendish things charged from my leg and make quick work of snaking around it. I screamed as the creature began to constrict my limb, cutting off its circulation. The creature's friends released a chorus of seemingly jubilant squeals. I didn't wait for the others to join their brave leader. I ferociously punted the transiting creature

with the rear end of my torch, and it hissed in pain, uncoiling from my leg. Body shaking in horror, I seized my small window of opportunity and started sprinting towards the cave mouth. The Sixland monstrosities pursued me, rapidly closing the gap between us. I expected them to devour me in the entrance to the black chasm I was approaching. They didn't. As I fell into the nothingness of the cave, I turned around to look at the now stationary group of horrifying ant people. They were to do. just standing at the entrance of the cave and watching. It was as if they were too afraid to step inside, and I really should have paid more attention to that. I hiss, like a sand timer being

flipped upside down, erupted from the deepest point of the cavernous pit. I shuddered, but I realized I had two options. I could either face certain death from the ant people at the door to the cave, or I could risk whatever lay in wait. There wasn't really a choice, but I chose the latter. My torch barely illuminated the few yards in front of me, so I was mostly wandering and pitch blackness. The hissing creature was suddenly entirely silent. The only sound in the cave was that of my echoing footsteps. Even the ant people had ceased their squealing. What did they fear in the heart of that dreadful place? That was when I saw it. The cave itself was not particularly big. It was more of a room than a home, and I stumbled into the room of the ghastliest thing I've ever seen.

The ant people paled in comparison. My torchlight could scarcely do justice to the enormous being before me. In the very far corner of the cave, about 100 feet from the entrance, was a 10-foot-tall insect. Actually, no, I don't think it was an insect. Much like the ant people, it possessed some characteristics of certain insects and arachnoids, but this creature was a beast unto its own. The thing was essentially just six hairless legs similar to those of a human other than the length and the pointed ends instead of feet. At first glance, it seemed like a spider with two missing limbs, but I quickly ascertained that the creature had no discernible body. Its body was its legs. The thing had no head. Its six limbs met at a central point, but there was no indication of any torso that

would contain organs or sensory tools. Yet, the creature certainly lived, and it certainly sensed me. Its horrifying six-legs started to tentatively crawl towards the source of the torch light. I wasn't going to wait around for another monster to seize my body and devour it. I scanned the walls of the cave, looking for a hiding spot. In the other back corner, there was a cluster of rocks. If I could just crawl in there, I might be out of reach, I thought. I sprinted at a speed I didn't know I could reach. The six-legged thing hurtled after me, its limbs making a horrific clicking sound as they galloped across the stones beneath them. Diving for a gap behind the rocks, I crawled out of reach and put my torchlight onto the creature which lay beyond my rocky fortress. The thing unleashed a menacing

howl and proceeded to jab the sharp ends of its fleshy limbs at the holes between the rocks. Fortunately, the rocks shielded me, but the wait until sunrise was unbearably long. As daylight began to fill the cave, I squinted through the cracks in my rocky wall, and I was fairly certain the ant people had vanished. I had a plan, but I only had one shot at making it work. Searching in my rucksack, I found what I needed. A flare. I just had to hope it would scare away the six-legged thing that was valiantly attempting to turn me into minced meat. Not pausing to make any more plans or rethink my decision, I lit up the flare. It worked. The creature wailed in terror, backing away into its original corner of the cave to escape the scorching blaze of the flare in my hand.

I hurriedly scrambled free of the rocky fortress, keeping the flare in front of me, and I ran to the entrance of the creature's den. I was determined not to spend another day in that nightmarish forest. I followed the stream the other way. After hours and hours of walking, I finally found something that briefly stifled the fear in my heart. I found trees with branches and leaves. Recognizing my surroundings, I managed to retrace my steps and find the original overgrown path that I followed through the two. branchless trees. The trees that started that mess. I've never talked about this incident to anyone. I couldn't find that forest of branchless trees, the stream, or the cave on any map.

I don't know how I stumbled upon it. I don't know how I escape from it. I only know one thing. If you ever see a branchless oak tree, walk away. I've always loved birds. Going on hikes, pointing them out to my family, they've always been such fun creatures. Every winter break my family sends me to my uncle Jack's little cabin with my notebook so I can take a break from high school. They never let me keep my phone, and anytime anything comes up, I notify him immediately. Sounds like a terrible idea, right? I've been doing this for a few years now, and luckily, nothing bad has happened. Well, until this one.

For reference, my uncle is the strongest and smartest man you'll ever meet. Retired soldier, at least three medals, one for his courage. you know the type. If he was dropped in a rainforest for a week, he'd survive by drinking python venom and spearing for piranhas. If you whipped out a phone in front of him, he would point out every little thing and ask about it. I love him to bits. We're both a little estranged with our families, so he became like a second father to me. He lives in a quaint little cabin in some Washington rainforest. There's a single dirt road that you exit onto when you leave the highway, and after maybe an hour, you'll arrive at his little wooden home.

My aunt passed away a few years ago, which I think is why my mom always sends me to his house. And so she did. As I played games on my phone in the backseat, my mom looked a little distressed as she drove through the dirt path. Apparently, my uncle had been acting a little odd, which she chalked up to old age. But she knew her brother well, and it was the first sign that things wouldn't go how I'd hoped. He was normal when we first arrived, and for a good few days things were just as they should have been. My uncle would enforce a curfew strictly at 9 before pulling me out of my bed at 6 in the morning. I would watch birds on hikes and draw them in my notebook while my uncle told jokes about the Marines.

I'd heard them a thousand times before, of course, but just the sound of my uncle's voice was pleasant. It wasn't until the fourth day of my week-long trip that I noticed what my mom was talking about. He would mutter under his breath, stare at the sky at night when he thought I wasn't looking. And for my uncle, silence was rare. His hearty laughter and confident demeanor were noticeably missing throughout the day. By the time the sun was setting, my uncle changed the curfew to six. There would be no leaving the house after the sun had set. Even though he was usually strict, he had never missed out on cooking s'mores while playing his banjo by the campfire.

Not once. That night, as I read my book under my flash, I glanced out the window only to see a pair of bright eyes staring right back at me. I knew it was wildlife, but my uncle's behavior had made me a little edgy. The next day when I asked about it, he told me that it was a fox and that their eyes would shine an ominous red at night. It wasn't for a few days until I remembered that foxes didn't live in this area of Washington. The next day, my uncle looked visibly nervous.

He told me that he would be going hunting, and he wouldn't be back until evening. were cheese crackers in the pantry if I got hungry, he would be back soon, don't go out too far until he gets back, the usual. At this point, I was extremely nervous, alone to watch over his cabin. After he left, I looked around a little. This feeling, this horrible unease that I was somehow being watched creeped into my soul. This wasn't a prank. The only pranks my uncle had ever done were filling my shoes with dirt and letting a spider loose in my bed sheets. I knew I was alone, but the feeling wouldn't go away. After looking around for a bit, in the same spot where I had seen the eyes last night were tracks. Human tracks. Two bare footprints in the dirt. My uncle didn't come back that night.

I've only pulled three all-nighters without sleep, and that was one of them. I stayed awake my whole night with my curtains drawn, too afraid to see what might be watching on the other side. I hid underneath my covers, the wind howling outside. I was comforted by the fact that if something was outside, it would be suffering in the 20-degree windy weather. I spent the whole day reading, too afraid to go out, my stomach slightly woozy from the diet of peanut butter, and jelly sandwiches with crackers. By nighttime, my uncle still hadn't come back. The next day, my mom would come to pick me up, but sadly, that isn't all that happened. I remember exactly how the night went. At maybe 10 at night, I heard a knock on the door. My uncle kept a key underneath the frayed welcome Matt.

He never knocked. His boisterous self wouldn't let him knock on the door of his own house. Silently, I made my way to my bathroom, locking the door behind me, making sure that there weren't any windows in it. I was clutching an aluminum bat that my uncle never used, for the vague hope that if someone, or something, got into the house, I could defend myself. The knocking got more violent, something was slamming on the door. Then, as abruptly as it started, it stopped.

Then, I heard it again. time. It was on the other side of the house. Blas shattering. A loud thud. My heart was pumping. I turned off the light in the bathroom as footsteps creaked on the floorboards outside. It walked right by my door, a shadow blocking the light from filtering in the bottom of the doorframe. I knew better than to make noise. They hung around for a good few hours. My adrenaline wore out after a while, with just pure fear remaining. If only my uncle was there. Luckily, I had turned off the light. in my room. There was nothing that signified I was in the house, but I still held my breath until they scampered back out the window. At least, that was what it sounded like. I didn't

take the risk of leaving. I slept in the bathtub that night. The next morning, I woke up to my mom yelling and knocking on the door. Opening the bathroom door, the floor was covered in red liquid. A trail of sticky crimson, still damp on the wooden floor. I nearly threw up, running to the door. My mom stood in front of me and raged at how I hadn't responded. Where was Uncle Jack? Why did I sleep in so late? I just hugged her, sobbing. I didn't know what happened.

Or why? She pretty quickly realized that things weren't normal. After taking a look inside the cabin, she called the local police. I still remember the cold interrogation room. Where was I that night? What happened to my uncle? Whose blood was on the floor? I answered everything honestly, my eyes blurred with tears and my nose clumped with snot.

It was horrible. I was dismissed as a suspect. I think they felt bad for me, crying my eyes out in front of them. It's been a year. After multiple searches, none of the local authorities could find my uncle. He was well and truly gone. His house got shut down. I spent this winter break at home, remembering what happened.

I don't think I'll ever forget my uncle Jack in his cabin in the world. woods. And I don't think I'll ever truly know what happened in that forest. Maybe it's better that way. I don't think I want to know what happened that night. My life is boring. I'm a student at a boring university and a boring town. In my free time, I usually sit in my tiny boring student room with my boring computer having to listen to my boring roommate and her boring boyfriend's loud conversations. For a long while, I have felt that my life is too routine. I do the same boring crap every single day. I felt a need for more excitement in my life. Since I was 15, I have always been interested in places that most people do not really know of. Places that have stood

abandoned for many years. Places that, if you enter them, you stand the risk of getting arrested. Reading about these places on Reddit always excited me. I wanted to go to them. I wanted the adrenaline and fear that came with them. Watching other people on YouTube exploring old hotels, warehouses, malls or even bowling alleys made me jealous. I watched people getting chased by dogs or cops, people finding creepy items or encountering homeless addicts, and that only made me want to visit an abandoned place more. Because my life was so boring, the adrenaline was very alluring to me, and so I did some research. I had only been a student at my university for a couple of months. I was in a new town, with new places to explore. After doing some Googling, I found out that they're in fact

was an abandoned place where I live, not too far from me. Of course, I was intrigued. I needed to spice up my life, and unlike other people my age, I did not want to do that by partying or hooking up. I wanted to spice my life up by adding some danger to it. From what I read the place did not seem that special. It was not an entire hotel or some mall.

It was only an old underground tunnel that used to be a passage for car traffic. It felt like the perfect place for a beginner to explore. It had not been in use for over 20 years, and it seemed that not that many urban explorers had been there before me. I have some friends, but none of them would ever be interested in putting themselves in danger just to seek some thrill. My friends are the kind of people who like to sit in a circle while drinking and playing games. That can be fun, of course, but it is not very exciting. So, I win alone. Stupid decision, I know.

I am a young and short female who decided to go to an abandoned place after dark on my husband. my own. I was naive and thought that nothing could ever happen to me, but something did. And after my experience, you best believe that I will not explore alone or at all ever again. It was a weekend night when I decided to take my bike and go to the tunnel. With me, I brought a flashlight, an army knife, pepper spray, and my camera. At least I brought some protection, right. But that did not help me from getting traumatized, maybe for life. It had already gotten dark out and before leaving I checked the time on my computer monitor. It was 2204, so not that late. This was during autumn, though, so the natural light had run out for the day. I left my room and locked the door after me.

My roommate is a nice girl, but I don't fully trust her yet, hence locking it. When I left, she had the door to her room open, as always, and therefore saw me leaving. I did not tell her where I was going, only that I was taking a walk. Once I got out of my apartment building, I unlocked my bike and started my journey towards the tunnel. I had found the cord in its online and was finding my way to them with the help of Google Maps on my phone. To get there, I had to bike through a wooded area.

The path was not let up. The only reason that I could see anything was because of my bike light. It was scary, but I enjoyed the fear. At least I was feeling something. I thought it was great. I already felt more alive and I had not even reached my destination yet.

Suddenly, my GPS said to turn left into the woods. It would have been impossible to take my bike because there was no path and the terrain did not seem friendly. Therefore, I left my bike on the path and locked it. I turned my bike light off and suddenly I was standing in complete darkness. The only sound was the wind blowing the leaves and some ruffling of trees from a deer or something. I took a deep breath and turned on the flashlight that I had brought with me. It was a cheap flashlight and the light it emitted was far from satisfactory. I could really only see a couple of meters in front of me. Nothing scary had really happened yet, but I still felt uneasy. I started to regret coming there but thought that I might as well

get to the tunnel. Quickly, I started to make my way through the forest. I felt scared and sort of observed. In reality, I knew that no one was out there. It was half past 10 at night in the middle of the forest on a weekend. No one was crazy enough to take a stroll at this time, except for me, I guess. Eventually, I reached the tunnel. If I wasn't scared before, I definitely was now. The inside of the tunnel was dark and seemed to go on forever. The outside was covered with demonic symbols and, of course, weird objects spray painted on the wall. Above the tunnel, someone had written stay out or be ended, in red paint. None of this made me want to leave, though. I just figured that some bored teenagers from the town had painted at all. To be fair, there was not a lot to do around

here. With that, I entered the tunnel. The ground and there was slightly damp, and I could hear dripping sounds around me. Stupidly enough, I was wearing sneakers and the dirty liquid from the ground made them soaked right away. I still kept going. I would just clean the shoes later. The graffiti from outside the tunnel continued on the tunnel walls with more cryptic symbols and warnings. I kept going, knowing that this was something that was common in abandoned places. The tunnel was not that interesting, to be honest. Sure, it was thrilling being there at night, but there were not a lot of things to discover. A pit started to form in my stomach.

I did not really know why. Nothing had happened to make me scared, but something just did not feel right. I shine my light on one of the tunnel walls and immediately jumped back and, I am embarrassed to say, let out a high-pitched scream, which echoed through the tunnel. I thought I had seen a ghost or something, but after looking at the wall I could see that It was just a demonic-looking face painted on there. I chuckled a little to myself. How could something so stupid have scared me like that?

I must have really been on edge. My momentary relief was quickly gone when I shined my flashlight on the ground in front of the face. There, on the ground, I could see some dirty blankets and a pillow. At the time, I couldn't understand why it was there, but it definitely freaked me out a bit. Was someone living in this tunnel? I started to feel very uneasy again and wanted to love. leave. I took a photo of the face and the bed, just a document that I had been there and started to walk towards the exit. That is when I heard footsteps coming into the tunnel. That was scary

enough, but what made it worse was that they came from the direction I had come from, the direction which was my way out. I froze for a second, not knowing what to do. Eventually, before the person could get any closer, I snapped out of my haze and started running the other way further into the tunnel. This seemed like my best option at the time, and knowing what I know now I can confirm that it was. When I started running, so did the other person. I could hear the footsteps speeding up behind me. While running, I started to take my army knife out of my pocket. I know that running with a knife in itself is dangerous, but at least I could protect myself

if the person caught up to me. The tunnel was not as long as I thought and eventually I reached its other end. In my panicked state, I had not noticed that the tunnel. footsteps behind me had prevailed. But once I had left the tunnel, I noticed it. Still, I kept running. At that moment I thought that I had to get back to my bike, so I started going through the forest, running beside the hill which the tunnel went through. During my run, at various moments, I could swear that I heard branches breaking around me. It might have been paranoia though because it would not have been possible for the person to catch up to me at this

point. When I found the path where my bike stood again, I felt a small sense of relief. Once I reached the bike, I quickly unlocked it and raced home. Not until I reached my apartment building did I start to calm down slightly. That is when I noticed a note in my bicycle basket. I put my bike away and ran into my dorm room with the note in hand. Once I had locked the door behind me, I sat down. I was still in a state of shock at this point. Had someone really just chased me? Why did I put myself in such danger? Slowly I opened up the note. The contents of it was short, but terrifying. Hello, pretty girl, I have not met you yet, but I am excited to do so.

The fact that this was left in my bicycle basket means that this person must have been somewhere in the forest, observing me while I left my bike. If not, how did they know that I was a girl? The note was not exactly threatening, but with context it was definitely yarring. This person had been by themselves, in the forest at night, observing me and then following me. Thank God I noticed their footsteps in time, otherwise I might not have been writing this right now. I still don't know who chased me that night, and I will not be going back to find out. I assume that the person who chased me is the same person who lives in the tunnel.

Just think about what kind of state you must be in to find shelter in such a place. Either this person was on drugs or in a very bad mental state, probably both. After this experience, I am definitely not going anywhere by myself at night. and to the person who might be reading this do not go to abandon places alone. No matter how thrilling or enticing it might seem, it is not worth the risks. I don't know how long it's been, I don't remember when we left. Only that we've been on this rafting trip too long. A little background, me and my friend Milo have been rafting and camping on a very rural stretch of river for days.

We haven't seen another person in so long. A few days ago, I stepped out of my tent and saw Milo's standing by the river bank. I started to walk over to him, but for some reason I felt I shouldn't. Something about him was wrong. I stepped back and relieved myself on a tree. I watched him for a while, but he never moved. I figured he just couldn't sleep and went back into my tent. The next day he had huge purple bags under his red eyes. I attempted conversation a few times, but he murmured something unintelligible and I left him alone. I started to load up the boats with our gear. but he just sat there, gently rocking back and forth.

Hey, Milo, we're about to head out. The boats are set. He slowly turned his head to look at me, like a deranged asylum patient in a movie. Leave me here. He must be joking, I thought. Now come on man, all your stuff is on green. Green was the name of his worn raft.

It was a faded olive color. I don't need it, he said, eerily calm as he turned back towards the forest. Milo, you're being a weirdo, let's go. I laughed nervously. Suddenly he whipped his head around and screeched at me in this voice I had never heard him use. I said to leave me here. I was legitimately scared at this point.

This was nothing like him. Okay, dude, chill. I'll take off on mine. Meet me at Campside 3. He stared at me. Those horrible eyes pierced my soul. No response. See you later.

I said as I pushed my raft into the brown swirling water. I hopped on and drifted down the river away from the island where I left him. I spent two nights at that place before I went back from Milo. I never should have done that. After a full day of paddling upstream I was mad and my arms hurt, but I was at the island. Milo, I yelled, searching warily. I heard heavy ragged breathing in some bush like a dying animal. And Milo, is that you buddy?

I asked softly, peeling away branches. A hand rushed out of the branches and grabbed me with a strong grip. The skin was pale and covered in cuts and dried scabs. The skin stretched over painfully. He wizzed at me. Stay here. I tried to jump back. What the hell man?

Let go. His grip weakens and the hand slid off of me. Don't resist it. Stay. I freaked out and ran towards the bank, but the lazy stretch of river I had traveled on before was now flowing rapidly, dragging our boats with it. No, I screamed, collapsing to the ground.

The black waves seemed jagged as they lapped at my feet, reflecting the distant starlight. I hadn't even noticed the sun go down. It seemed like it was evening just seconds ago. No, I'm screwed. I paced along the bank, reluctant to go into the forest again. I finally settled on a spot by the tree I had previously set up a tent next to. I was just closing my eyes when I heard uneven footsteps and that same ragged breathing. It was him. Everything about him was, I don't know how to describe it.

He staggered to the bank and out of the swirling water a creature rose. Its horrifying head broke the surface and slowly came towards Milo. It drew itself higher out of the water. Its glowing blank eyes were set deep into its head like round white pearls that lost their shined centuries ago. It looked like a huge eel almost, with moist skin so dark it seemed to suck light out from around it. slightly open mouth was filled with thin needle-like teeth, transparent, and an uneven rose

along its long jaw. It had a glowing sort of lantern hanging from its chin as big as a human's head, and more glowing spots along the sides of its ridiculously gigantic neck. Milo walked towards it. I wanted to scream, but the breath wouldn't leave my frantically fluttering lungs. After Milo's head submerged the creature sank back down into the river, following him. I don't know what happened, but the whisper started a feeling. few hours ago. The whispers haven't stopped. It has been a day. I don't remember when they started. I think I'm going insane. The whispers. They sound so inviting. I am going into the river tonight. Any fate is better than this. Dubai.