Just Creepy: Scary Stories - Best Scary Stories of May 2023 | 3 Hours of Scary Stories For Sleep, Park Ranger, Skinwalker, Forest, and More!

Episode Date: May 27, 2023

These are the 16 Best Scary Stories of May 2023 | 3 Hours of Scary Stories For Sleep, Park Ranger, Skinwalker, Forest, and More! Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: (In Order) ►https://www.reddit.com/user/ForceTypical/►https://www.reddit.com/user/asteri_agaliarept/►https://www.reddit.com/user/asteri_agaliarept/►https://www.reddit.com/user/Many_Definition_6775/►https://www.reddit.com/user/Aggressive-City4453/►https://www.reddit.com/user/ros3y_ros3/►https://www.reddit.com/r/spaghettispooks/►Anonymous►https://www.reddit.com/user/CannedGlory/►https://www.reddit.com/user/BoolinHours/►https://www.reddit.com/user/jayjay3x/►https://www.reddit.com/user/Striking-Rich5626/►https://www.reddit.com/user/twocantherapper/►https://www.reddit.com/user/FangedFrights/►https://www.reddit.com/user/Planetsa1t/►https://www.reddit.com/user/Planetsa1t/ Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #parkrangerstories #cryptids #skinwalker 💀As always thanks for watching! 💀

You will never believe what happened. It was a hot summer night, and I was camping in the woods with three of my friends. These woods have always been shrouded in mystery, and local folklore tales say that the forest is haunted. But my friends and I, feeling adventurous, decided to go camping deep in the heart of these very woods. We were armed with nothing but a tent, some food, and a thirst for adventure. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, and we had just finished setting up our tent for the night. We had picked a spot near a river so we could listen to the soothing sound of the water while we were falling asleep. We spent the evening roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories around the campfire.

Little did we know we were about to experience something far more terrifying than any of our stories. It got late and all four of us crawled into the tent and were just getting into our sleeping bags when we heard rustling in the distance. At first we assumed it was just an animal. The sounds grew louder and more persistent. We tried to ignore it and go to sleep, but the rustling turned into scratching and then tapping. The tapping was so close it sounded like it was on the side of our tent. My friend pointed out that it almost sounded like someone or something was trying to get our attention. We argued with each other about who should go and check the noise.

I eventually got fed up of the arguing and got out of my sleeping bag to investigate. I unzipped the tent and peeked outside into the darkness. There was nothing there. Just pitch black in the sound of the river. I shrugged it off and told my friends there was nothing there. The noise had stopped by now, so I zipped up the tent again. I began to get back into my sleeping bag, but the tapping started again. We tried to ignore it for a while longer, but eventually the noise became so annoying to us

that we all decided to get up and go find what was making the noise as we were all too scared to go and check by ourselves. We got out of our sleeping bags and stepped outside the tent. At first we didn't see anything, just darkness. But as our eyes adjusted, we saw something that still haunts me to this day. Standing next to our tent was a figure seemingly made of some weird, sagging, hairy, flesh-like material. We all noticed it at the same time, and we were all paralyzed with fear. It stood at least ten feet tall, with an extremely skinny frame.

Its eyes glowed an unsettling pure yellow, and it was smiling with a big, uncanny grin that showed its sharp teeth. Its hulking frame stood in the shadows next to our tent, just staring at us, smiling, as if waiting for us to make a move, while still tapping on the side of our tent every few seconds. I felt a chill run down my spine, and I could see the fear in my friend's eyes. Suddenly, the figure spoke, opening its sick, twisted lips. Its voice was abnormally low and gravely. It echoed throughout the trees. Why do you dare trespass in my woods?

It said, almost light-heartedly, giving a big smile as it talked to us. Too shocked to respond, we just stared at it, not moving. Too afraid to move. Its lips twisted from a smile to an annoyed frown, and then it was just gone. One second it was there, the next it wasn't. That was the last we saw of the strange creature that night. We spent the rest of the night huddled together, too scared to sleep, barely speaking to each other because of the shock of what we just witnessed.

That whole night I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, even inside our tent. The next morning, we packed up our campsite and left the woods as quickly as we could. Even back in our homes in the city, that feeling of being watched never left me. Not for one second. It was like the figure had followed us, and I couldn't shake off the fear that it could be waiting for me somewhere in the shadows. I started having nightmares about it, and I became anxious and paranoid about it every second I was wake. The next day, I confided in a friend who was into the supernatural, and she suggested that what we had seen could have been a demon. She warned me that demons could attach themselves to people,

and that they were hard to get rid of once they did. I brushed it off at first, but the nightmares continued, and my fear intensified. It had been a few days since my most recent nightmare of the beast, and about a week since we had gotten back to the city. I had just gotten into bed, and I was reading a book. There was a scratching noise at my window. I assumed it was the willow branch that was up against my window as it was windy, and the branch often scraped my window on windy nights. I noticed something strange about the noise, however. It didn't seem to die down with the wind. In fact, the wind had stopped, but I could still hear the tapping of the branch just a few feet from the top of my head. What's more, the noise was eerily similar to the sound of the

scratching on the tent that night. I twisted my blinds open the smallest amount I could and peered out through the slits. Just a few inches from my face, the figure was there, motionless, staring directly into my eyes as if it could see into my soul. Its eyes glowing brighter than I remember. Its grin twisted even more than I remember. There was no pain of glass separating me in this strange being as I had left my window open. It was like time had stood still and I was transported back to that night in the woods. I was paralyzed by fear and couldn't move. You cannot escape me. It said it's voice low, gravely, and almost sympathetic sounding. I regained my senses the moment I smelled the monster's stinky breath and reached up to shut the window.

But the figure simply put one finger in the way of the window and it wouldn't budge. It was like it had supernatural strength. I felt a coldness wash over me as the creature climbed through the window into the room. In this being's presence, the room seemed to drop at least 10 degrees. I knew that I was in the presence of something far beyond my understanding. The figure started to whisper in my ear, its words were like venom to my brain. Nothing it said made any sense, but the words still made my brain feel like it was being eaten from the inside out. I could feel my mind slipping away. My vision started to fade, and sound came in pulses to my ears. It was like I was in some sort of trance with no control over my body. I fell into a deep sleep. Then I woke up. I was alone in

my apartment and light was streaming and through the blinds. I got up, shaking and sweating, and looked at myself in the mirror. The first thing I noticed was a strange gray mark on the side of my neck that looked like some sort of strange symbol. I tried rubbing it off, but it seemed as as if it was branded into my skin. Not knowing what else to do, I carried on with my day, making a mental note to see a doctor and therapist as soon as I could. However, as I went on with my everyday tasks, the fear and paranoia never left me, and I was never truly free of the strange being's grip. Now, years later, I still see the figure in my dreams.

It taunts me, it torments me, and I know that I will never truly get its influence out of my head. I fear that the mark has made me one of its slaves. I think it's a sort of hive mind being, gaining power and energy off of the every victim that enters its forest. I have come to this conclusion because I have found that I can never use my full brain power. Since that day I will randomly forget important things or struggle with simple mental tasks for no apparent reason. I can almost feel a part of my mind being eaten away by a supernatural force.

I have tried to contact my friends. One of them has gone mysteriously missing and the other two describe very similar experiences to what I have gone through. With enough victims, I think this being could become very powerful and perhaps start reaching beyond just the forest to claim victims as its own. So if you ever find yourself in the woods on a warm summer night, please be careful. You never know what kind of terrors are hiding in the shadows, waiting to use you for their own gain. This episode is brought to you by Redfin. You're listening to a podcast, which means you're probably multitasking, maybe even scrolling home listings on Redfin, saving homes without expecting.

to get them. But Redfin isn't just built for endless browsing. It's built to help you find and own a home. With agents who close twice as many deals, when you find the one, you've got a real shot at getting it. Get started at redfin.com. Own the dream. Have you ever heard the walker in the woods? Have you ever felt their eyes watching you from beyond the trees? That sense that you're not as alone as you thought. It's just a deer or a squirrel. You tell yourself, certainly, you would know if someone else was out there with you. After all, maybe this is your property or an empty park. But, dear reader, what if I told you you weren't as alone as you thought?

Or, as you hoped. For you see, the walker in the woods might be there with you. If you're lucky, you'll only hear something in the distance snapping twigs underfoot. It could be an animal, and it's far away, so it's nothing to worry about. You can tell yourself. Or maybe it's closer than that. Maybe it's from just out of sight. behind a grove of trees too thick to see through.

Maybe it's close enough for you to realize that the thing can't be a rabbit or fox, it's far too big. Or, if you're particularly unlucky, maybe it's right behind you. A hot breath down the back of your neck, a low whisper in a language you can't understand, a shadow from behind that seems to block out the light.

But, dear reader, worry not. For you see, you are not alone in these encounters. The walker is an old entity. Now, you might be thinking how can we? one entity appear all around the world, wouldn't it make more sense for it to be some unknown species? But rest assured, reader, there is only one walker in the woods. Yes, the walker may share their territory with a slew of other creatures, your witches, fay creatures, ghosts, and monsters. But there is only one walker. In my own humble opinion, if there was more than one that would

spell the end of life as we know it, or maybe the two walkers would fight until only one remained. Now, again, you may be wondering how I came across such esoteric knowledge as the walker in the woods. Well, simply put, it is my job to know these things. It is not a glamorous job, I lament, and the pay is almost non-existent other than a sparse helping of gratitude from those who heed my advice. But, unfortunately, I am not here to discuss the troubles that plague a lowly field officer such as myself, or to complain about a shadow organization that keeps tabs on the unnatural and monstrous. No, that discussion is best left for another time.

Today, we are discussing the walker. You see, the walker is either as old as, or older than the trees. As far back in history as we can search, there has always been some thing lurking in the dark. As we go further back in time, we can try to attribute these bumps in the night to the fay or monsters of other kinds. But by asking these beasts, they all claim that the walker, had been there as long as they can remember. And these creatures, you understand, have long memories indeed.

Now, before I go on, it would be in both of our best interests. If I describe the Walker to you, keep in mind that encounters with the Walker in the woods with accurate descriptions are extremely rare. If you are close enough to see the Walker, it is unlikely you'll be able to convey the encounter to anyone else. It is also impossible to record the Walker on any form of media imagery. electronics malfunction in its presence. Photos and videos become distorted,

and even artistic representations will twist their ink or paint to blur the creature's face. The paint or ink will refuse to dry so long as anyone looks at it, and the moment everyone looks away or blinks, it'll run and twist of its own accord, distorting the image. As of yet, I have not found a means to keep an image of the Walker from distorting, even through arcane, occult or divine means. However, this strange phenomenon does not extend to text or oral description, nor does it prevent one from drawing an image of the walker's body or lens.

Now, reader, you may think that you can simply make a collage of images like a puzzle to create the creature's face. Rest assured, my predecessor also thought she was clever with that trick. The fire raged for weeks and ravaged the western coast of the United States, and her body was never recovered, nor was our testing facility there. as it was reduced entirely to a mound of slag. What about holograms or magical illusions? Those, two, were attempted once.

In the case of the former, the machines refused to even turn on. In the latter, it took six days to find all the pieces of our occult consultant. Now, there is an official ruling to avoid finding any loopholes in the creature's ability to distort images of itself. But I digress, dear reader, allow me to describe the beast to you now. And quite the beast it is, all accounts, standing between 10 and 15 feet tall, the creature is bipedal primarily, walking on long, thick legs ending in wide paws. The creature has extremely thin arms, as if they have

no bones or muscle, ending in oversized hands. Each of the walker's hands has seven fingers, two of which are opposable like a human thumb, on either side of the hand. However, each finger possesses additional joints, though the exact number varies by a count. from three to six. The Walker's chest is concave, as if crushed in. The Walker's skin varies from deathly white, to obsidian black, to modeled camouflage. According to the various accounts, the variation in these accounts is attributed to stress in the viewer, but the one thing that is always consistent among the accounts is the head, at least among viewers who survive seeing it. The Walker has a roughly humanoid head, however the Walker has no ears on the side of its head.

and three horns along its brow, with two large antlers growing from the side of its head. But the creature's actual face is much harder to describe. This isn't due to its unique ability to mutate images or memory of itself. Rather, it's because almost nobody who had seen its face has been found alive. We only assume the images we have created of the Walker's face are accurate due to the distortions appearing as we have slowly created a more accurate image. The walker in the woods has no nose, a small mouth without lips, and two enormous eyes. It is believed these eyes are black and filled with millions of pinpricks of light,

each eye roughly the size of a human's face. A scar runs from the middle of the walker's eyes, where a nose would be, down to the creature's mouth, where it branches off at two angles, resembling an upside-down why? The small mouth on the walker's face is actually an illusion, according to a survivor who only saw the creature's jaw, the Y-shaped scar will split open, revealing a three-way set of jaws as the Walker's cheekbones peel back, lifting the upper corners of the mouth away.

The inside of these flaps of mouth are lined with backward facing, jagged teeth, like those of a sea turtle, but far larger. It is believed that even if you see the Walker preparing to bite with this monstrous maw, which appears to open far wider than physics should allow, you can still escape. This is proved by our soul surviving witness. However, none who have looked at both of the Walker's eyes have survived. The only evidence we possess of its gaze come from those who have witnessed the Walker

peeking around a corner at them and only if they were able to outrun it. Not many do, as far as we can guess. It is theorized that maintaining eye contact with the Walker causes a trance-like state that allows it to more easily take its victims, though this cannot be corroborated, for understandable reasons. It is known, however, that looking at the creature's eyes, even briefly, or through the trees or a veil, prevents the use of arcane, occult and divine powers. Because of this, monsters, Phabes, and other supernatural entities are just as vulnerable to the walker in the woods. Needing to rely on their own limbs to flee to safety, beings able to fly without supernatural

assistance are most likely to escape. If they can get above the tree line, merely getting into the branches will not save you, dear reader. The walker in the woods, despite his name, is quite capable of scaling a tree or two. But my reader may ask themselves, how does one escape such a creature, who itself does not seem bound to buy even divine powers? Well, you're in luck, for through my own efforts we have compiled a list of rules to possibly save your life in the event you encounter the walker. Rue one, do not explore the woods alone. The walker, throughout the eon, has never appeared before more than two people at a time. A single pair is not enough protection from the walker.

It is theorized this as because when there are three or more in the group, the odds of a survivor increase. As you may have noticed, the walker does not like to be observed by others. Rule 2. Do not acknowledge the walker. The walker in the woods is a stalker who relishes the hunt. They like to instill fear in their victims, slowly coming closer. If you run or look for the walker, you'll provoke it to attack. The walker has no interest in prey who ignore it.

Rule 3, do not call out to the walker. This rule, while similar to Rule 2, serves a different purpose. You see, the walker can mimic sounds and uses this ability as it hunts. It could be the sound of a woman's voice in the trees, asking for help or the cry of a baby. If you call out into the trees, the walker may one day use your words against another or victim. Below are a brief sampling of phrases and voices known to belong to the walker. An infant crying, a young woman begging for help and screaming in pain, a boy calling his pet spot to come here, an old man wheezing that he had fallen and cannot get up, a series of gunshots which may

sometimes be followed by the screams of passing men. Deer, bears, wolves, tigers, a lion, and an assortment of birds, which may or may not be indigenous to the region you encounter the Walker. Various men, women, children, and otherworldly creatures speaking unknown languages, believed to be from lost or forgotten civilizations or other worlds. Bestial roars believed to belong to extinct animals. Rule 4. Should you be pursued by the Walker attempt to get to your own property border as fast as possible? There is no known reason why the Walker chooses to abide by government certified property borders. My personal hypothesis is, because it thinks it is funny.

As far as I have been able to determine, the Walker has no reason to be halted by the idea of privately owned land, as the Walker has been known to follow people across a third party's private property with no aversion. How the Walker in the woods knows where an individual's property border is,

I cannot say. Just know that your own property, legally bought and paid for, suffices. Rule 5. If you cannot reach your property, get away from the trees. Any type of clearing will do, whether it be a natural clearing, or a paved street. A meadow, lawn, or otherwise flat, clear zone is preferable but not needed specifically.

The walker prefers to avoid being seen unless attempting to instill fear, it will hesitate to follow you into a clearing and may be convinced to chase prey elsewhere. Rule 6. Get inside a building as soon as possible. This will not stop the walker. It is merely a means to slow it down. Only crossing one's property border will truly stop the walker from following you. Reader. But if you find a building in the woods, get inside and shut the doors. Better still is a building and a clearing, such as a house with a big lawn on all sides.

Once you are inside, you will continue to hear the walker coming for you. It may choose to look through windows or cast shadows into the rooms from outside to frighten you. It may choose to speak to you through the door, begging to be let in, or calling to, for help. Do not let it in. Do not open the door. If you're lucky after several minutes, the walker will give up and leave. If you are unlucky, the walker in the woods will knock on the door. Gently at first. Then again, harder. Soon, it will rattle the door handle, shaking it in the frame. If the building has multiple doors, all of them will bang and shake violently as the walker attempts to get in. Do not be fooled, however. The walker will only be behind one door.

Even if another door creaks and groans under a violent beating, looking outside through a window will suffice to prove the walker is not there. Simply open the door and continue to flee. Soon enough, you'll hear the bursting explosion as the walker finally breaks down its chosen door, and it'll begin to chase you again. You may need to hide within another building. You can continue this game of cat and mouse until you outrun the walker or it grows bored of chasing you. Ideally, you'll find your way back to your property. Rule 7, if you cannot find a group of more than three people, get to your property, and the walker will not grow bored of hunting you. It is possible to divert its attention to another. This last rule is a failsafe, chanced upon by a worker

within my organization. Wobbling through the forests of Eastern Europe to examine an oddity reported to the organization, this worker became prey to the Walker in the woods. Despite following the advice to hide in a clearing and through several abandoned buildings, the worker continued to be hunted. After several hours on the run, the worker came face to face with the Walker. Terrified, the worker cried out in fear, babbling in horror. The worker, as they were about to be eaten by the Walker, muttered their co-worker's name, who was also somewhere in the forests. The Walker stood, stopped, pulling back. The worker reported that a voice, ancient and horrible, spoke directly into his brain. It said an offering has been made, and, without a word more, the walker turned

and loped off into the trees, leaving the worker alive. He ran to the nearest research station, or he reported the incident. There, it was discovered that the man had spoken the full name, first and last, of his co-worker, who was also alone in the forest. Despite trying for over an hour, nobody could reach her via radio or cell phone. A rescue team was sent in search of her, but she was never found. Two weeks later, the oddity was researched and packed away, and the worker was sent off with three guards to get safely back to the city to board his flight home. They never made it.

It was determined, via trial and error, that speaking the name of an individual you know to be alone, to the walker will send it off to hunt that person. While hunting in this way, the individual will be able to be. cut off from all outside contact. No means of reaching that person has been discovered, other than going into the trees to find them first. But this is ill-advised. For you see, dear readers, the walker does not take kindly to their offerings being taken from it. No number of guards, or houses, or clearings will stop the walker from taking its offering. Neither will property

borders. Once you have made an offering to the walker in the woods, you have two weeks from the moment you speak the name to get to your property. Do this, and the walker will leave you alone. Fail to get to safety, and the walker in the woods will come for you, regardless of any other safety precautions. How do you know you are being hunted by the walker in the woods? If you have been offered up to it, first is the feeling you're being watched. Then your ears will ring. You may hear footsteps nearby, a fleeting shadow in the corner of your vision, or maybe you'll just hear. I'm sorry, dear readers, but I have to stop here for now. Somebody is knocking on my cabin door.

Hello, readers. This is an account of an encounter I had when I was young. I think I was maybe 10 or 12 years old at the time. I'm posting this here in case anyone knows what happened or if they've also had an experience. Over a decade later, I still vividly remember it. Back then, I lived in the upper northeast of the United States. For obvious reasons, I will not tell you the exact location, but it was a heavily wooded rural community that used to be owned by major logging companies. I grew up in one of those old dying communities that had outlived its purpose when the logging industry left,

leaving behind their vast swaths of forest. When they left, the town's main income went with them, and the town dried up. Officially, the loggers left because the soil was prone to collapse from how waterlogged it was, unable to handle their heavy equipment. Unofficially, around bonfires late at night, the locals would say that they left after finding human remains. Now, whose remains they were was up for debate. Some people would say it was a Native America burial ground.

Others say a forgotten cemetery, or just a couple of hunters who got lost in the woods. But that doesn't really matter. Just backstory, I guess, to let you know what kind of place it was. Anyways, when I was younger, I used to go for walks late at night. We lived way back in the woods, but not so far that I couldn't see my neighbors if I tried. Anyone who grew up in the woods would know that weird stuff happens sometimes. Wild dogs, coyotes, foxes, deer, there's all kinds of wildlife that can mess up a kid.

So, when I went out, I always carried a knife or two on me, but I almost never carried a flashlight. Usually, the stars and moon would be enough to light the road and paths through the trees, and at night the only time I needed a light was if I wanted to go off the path. And the older I got, the less I wanted to do that. Now, knowing all that, here's the story. I was walking around my block, maybe a five-mile walk alone at night. Usually, it would take me about an hour or two, walking alone down the roads that winded through the woods. It was maybe one, two in the morning.

I was maybe 20 minutes from home when I heard a branch snap in the trees. Normally, I would write it off as nothing. Branches snap all the time, those woods are full of life. But for some reason, a chill ran down my spine. Like, I was being watched. I tensed and stopped, but the feeling didn't go away. Nervously, I kept walking. I crossed the street, coming up on an old crop field.

I think it was either beans or corn that year, but I can't remember. All I know is that I heard rustling as soon as I got near the field, as if something walked into the field out of the woods. I fumbled in my hoodie for my phone, one of those old blocky phones from the late 2000s. I found the flashlight on it and pointed it at the field but couldn't see anything. But the rustling was getting closer. Now, when there's an animal coming after you, you're not supposed to run. Most of the animals around there aren't brave enough to fight if you stand your ground. But I was young and I freaked.

I took off, running as fast as my legs would carry me. I heard the thing in the field, chasing me. It wasn't rustling anymore, but crashing through the plants. When I crossed the creek, I heard it splash loudly into the water as it followed. It sounded huge. Maybe that was just because I was such a small kid. I don't know. But as soon as I made it back to my property, the sound stopped.

Like, right at the edge of the property, not even at the end. of the tree line. As soon as I passed our no trespassing signs, it abruptly stopped moving. I ran into the house and crawled into my bed, but I didn't sleep a wink that night. Weeks go by, and I hadn't had another encounter with an animal or anything. Just serene wilderness, quiet walks. Peaceful. Granted, I never stayed out that late again, not for years. But one night my older brother came home for the weekend. He was two years older, but lived with his dad most of the time. Since we rarely got to hang out, he decided to go walking with me. He laughed when I handed him a knife for his belt, but he humored me and hooked it on. This night, we went further than usual,

down past the pond the creek feeds into. Me and him were just talking, laughing about stupid teen drama when he suddenly gets quiet and asks if I heard that. I strain my ears against the sounds of the creek and insects. It's faint, but it almost sounds like heavy breathing. I shake my head, saying it's probably just our breath bouncing off the water and trees or something. We shrug and start walking, but don't make it more than three steps when we stop. Someone was in the trees. We could clearly hear them snap a branch. But, when we listened, we couldn't hear anything else, just our own breathing.

We take a few more steps. Whoever, or whatever, started moving in time with us. We could hear heavy steps coming from the trees, perfectly matching our own steps. but it wasn't an echo whatever it was with stepping on branches and kicking rocks while we were on a paved road. We looked at each other and simultaneously had the same thought, don't acknowledge it. Whatever it was, don't look, don't try to see it, just keep walking and pretend we didn't hear it. We grew up loving myths and monsters, and if it was a person who knew what they'd do if they knew we knew they were following us. But the myths all say not to acknowledge the things in the woods, so we can't.

We kept walking, all the way to the corner, then turned around and started heading back. Whatever it was, it followed us. No animal would have a reason to stop at that corner, the woods kept going. The road didn't even turn in that direction. Why was it turning back with us? We kept going. Pretending we didn't hear, pretending we weren't freaking out inside. We try walking at a casual pace, that is, until we get to the pond.

We hear whatever it is splash around in the pond. You might be picturing something cutesy. This was not the nice-styled pond you see in parks. It was filled with moss, snapping turtles, and was well over 10 feet deep. And this thing walked right into it. We froze, having a refutable proof it was right beside us, no more than 10 feet away, only separated by a single willow tree. But, as usual, the thing stopped moving when we did.

Whatever it was stopped right in the middle of the pond, We started walking forward and heard it splashing, keeping pace. It didn't sound like swimming, more like when somebody walks around in a pool. But, as I said, the pond was over ten feet deep. Without looking at each other, me and my brother started to run. Obviously, it ran after us, crashing through the underbrush as it launched out of the pond at speed. We didn't look, only ran as hard as we could home. Whatever it was, it didn't follow us across the road, stopping across.

the road from our property. As we locked ourselves in our shared bedroom, I swore I heard something screaming in the woods for the rest of the night. Needless to say, that was the last time my brother went walking with me at night. I stared out my bedroom window, peering into the darkness of the night. The only light came from the moon, casting an eerie glow on the garden below. And there he was, the faceless man. He stood there motionless, as if waiting for something. It was as if he He knew I was watching him. At first, I thought it was just my imagination playing tricks on me. Maybe I was just tired or stressed.

But no matter how many times I rubbed my eyes or shook my head, he was still there. I tried to ignore him, but he was always there, every night, standing in the garden. It started to become an obsession. I couldn't sleep, couldn't focus on anything else. My mind was constantly consumed with thoughts of the faceless man. Who was he? What did he want? And why was he haunting me?

I tried to talk to my friends and family about it, but they all just dismissed it as a nightmare or a hallucination. But I knew it was real. As the days turned into weeks, the faceless man began to move. He would inch closer and closer to the house each night until he was right outside my window. I could feel his breath on the glass, could hear his ragged breathing. One night I couldn't take it anymore. I got up from my bed and walked outside straight towards the faceless man.

I didn't know what I was doing or why I was doing it, but something inside me compelled me to confront him. As I got closer, I could see that his skin was pale and mottled, almost translucent. His eyes were sunken and hollow, and his mouth was twisted into a grotesque shape. But the most disturbing thing about him was that he had no face. It was just a smooth, featureless surface, like a statue. I tried to speak to him to ask him what he wanted, but he didn't respond. He just stood there, staring at me. me with his blank expression, and then he vanished into thin air. After that night, I thought the

faceless man was gone for good, but he wasn't. He continued to haunt me, appearing in my dreams and even in my waking moments. I couldn't escape him. As time went on, I became more and more desperate. I started researching online, trying to find anything that could explain the faceless man, and that's when I found the stories. Stories of a faceless man who haunted people who drove them to madness and despair. I didn't know what to do. I felt like I was losing my grip on reality. And then, one night, the faceless man appeared again. But this time, he wasn't alone. He was surrounded by a group of faceless people all staring at me with their blank expressions. I ran back into my house, locked all the doors and windows, and sat in my room, trembling with

fear. I knew I had to do something, but I didn't know what. And then, I saw it, a glimmer of light in the darkness, it was a torch held by a figure in a hooded rope. The figure approached my window and I saw that it was an old man. He beckoned me to follow him, and without thinking, I did. We walked through the garden, past the faceless man and his followers, until we reached a hidden door in the wall. The old man led me through the door, into a tunnel that seemed to stretch on forever. As we walked, he told me about the faceless man, how he was a being from another realm, a world beyond our own. He explained that the faceless man had been trying to enter our world for centuries and that he needed a host to do so. That's when I realized the faceless man had been

trying to possess me all along. The old man led me to a chamber deep underground. In the center of the room was a pedestal with a single object resting on top. It was a mask made of a shimmering, iridescent material. The old man explained that the mask was the key to stopping the faceless man. If I wore the mask, it would shield me from his influence, and I could banish him back to his own world. I hesitated, but the old man urged me on. I knew I had no other choice. I picked up the mask, feeling its weight in my hands. As I placed it on my face, I felt a surge of power flow through me.

It was as if I was a different person, stronger, more confident, more alive. I returned to the garden to face the faceless man and his followers. As soon as they saw me, they began to converge, closing in on me from all sides. But I stood my ground, raising my arms, and calling forth a blast of energy. The faceless man screamed as the energy hit him, writhing and twisting in agony. His followers fled, disappearing back into the darkness from which they came. And then, with a final burst of energy, the faceless man vanished, leaving behind only the memory of his haunting presence.

I was free at last. free from the fear, the obsession, the madness. I knew that I would never forget the faceless man, but now I could face him with confidence and strength. I could confront any challenge that came my way, knowing that I had the power to overcome it. And as I stood there in the garden, looking up at the moon, I knew that I had faced my greatest fear, and emerged victorious.

The faceless man had haunted me for so long, but now he was gone, banished back to his own world, and I was left with a newfound sense of courage and purpose, ready to face whatever the future had in store. I'm an avid hunter and tracker. I love to get outdoors and explore, shed hunt for antlers, or just hike around to view wildlife. I live in the Rocky Mountains in southwest Montana, so the forest are endless and the wildlife are abundant. Recently, I've purchased five new game cameras to scope out around my property. These cameras catch anything and are superior to other brands out.

I own around 20 acres of forest land with a nice little creek running through it. I put them all the way around the property to see anything and everything. Within a week I checked them. To my surprise, I had photos of a wide variety of wildlife on there from porcupines, to coyotes, to deer, and even a cougar passing through. I never would have imagined I had so much going on throughout the property. The next week was strange, as my cameras had taken hundreds of photos, but nothing was on them. As I kept browsing through the photos something unnatural caught my eye,

far off in the distance in the last few photos I could see what looked like a deer, but it was not just any normal deer. The frickin' thing was standing upright on its two hind legs. And as the photos went on it appeared as if it walked like that across the whole view of the camera, still blown away by what I had seen. I felt the need to investigate further so, I made a tree stand by the camera that caught that freakishly looking deer. After completion, I was all ready to go.

Since the activity was between two and three in the morning, I went to the stand at dusk to get hunkered down and ready to find out what that was. The first night I stayed until dawn seeing nothing. But I heard some crazy noises like whispering, and talking off in the distance. I felt it odd because my closest neighbors are two miles away. It sent chills down my spine, but I remained sitting all night. Night two, nothing again until about 2.30 in the morning.

Then I heard branches breaking like something was stomping through the woods off in the distance, just outer range to be able to see with my night vision binoculars. I kept looking as the thumping noise was getting louder. Then I heard what sounded like a woman crying from the same direction as the branches were being broken. This really got me freaked out now as the crying became louder and it sounded like she was begging for someone to help her. I couldn't sit and just listen any longer. I then shouted out, where are you? I'm here, do you need assistance?

I got down off my tree stand and started running in the direction of the woman's crying, but it seemed as the closer I had gotten to her she remained at about the same distance ahead of me. I kept taking to her asking, where are you? Are you hurt? And the same response, help me please. This went on for about 15 minutes and I thought to myself, what if this is some kind of trap? I've seen movies like this before,

so I stopped and quickly turned around and started jogging back to my own. the way I came. This is where things get disturbing as I was getting farther away from where I heard the crying, and please for help. It was now getting closer to me as I was making my way back out of the woods. Now I'm scared, I started sprinting towards the tree line to my property as it sounded like whatever that was, was right on my tail breaking branches, and it sounded big. I could hear its feet hitting the ground. I finally hit the tree line and no longer heard the cries or begging for help. In the opening I turned around just before reaching my house, and back at the tree line, I could see two glowing yellow eyes and a dark silhouette of a figure of what appeared to be about

seven to eight feet tall. Whatever it was, just stood there staring right at me. Then I heard a low menacing growl. Terrified now, I ran back into my house and got out the AR-15 locked and loaded, ready to blow that thing away, but as you would know it, it was gone. I walked back out to the tree line, and I could hear low whispered. and talking again, like two people having a conversation. I knew better than to follow the sound of voices this time.

After owning the country property for 15 plus years, I decided it was time to move closer to civilization. Whatever was out there, I definitely did not want to encounter it again. I don't know what it was planning that night, but it was definitely sinister. Krispy Chicken Sandwich from 7-Eleven, people always call me loud. And I'm like, yeah, I know. I'm crispy.

Did you expect me to whisper? If you want quiet, go eat some soup and reflect. Like, I know I'm a handful. I'm bold, I'm juicy. Throw some pickles and barbecue sauce on me, and baby, I'm a whole meal. And with seven rewards, I'm just $4. Quiet, no. Krispy, saucy, and $4?

Very. Only at 711. Valley through 62326 participating stores only while supplies lastly out for full terms. I've lived near these woods all my life, and I would always hear tales about this house deep in the woods. These were just tales, but my mom always warn my siblings and I to avoid the woods. I can understand the more logical reason for this. There are countless animals in the woods, but my mother would always warn us to beware of the house

in the woods. Naturally, my siblings and I didn't really heed her warnings, in fact, we wanted to find this supposed house. No matter how hard we searched, we couldn't find it so we eventually gave up on it. A few months ago, I went to visit my parents who still live in the same house my siblings and I grew up in. By this point, I had completely forgotten about the tales of the house in the woods. Three days into my visit and my parents' dog, Charlie, went missing. It's normal for Charlie to wander around in the woods, but he would always come back home an hour or two before sunset. When he didn't arrive home an hour after he normally would, my parents began worrying.

I assured them that he'll probably show up within the next hour. Another hour flew by and no sign of Charlie. By this point, my parents were worried sick. They've had Charlie for a long time and loved him to death. I was also concerned for him, but I knew it was dangerous to go looking for him at night. I told my parents I'd search for him first thing tomorrow morning, which helped calm them down. We had all been fast asleep when the sound of barking woke me. Realizing the barking sounded like Charlie, I rushed out the house with a baseball bat and my phone.

I shine my phone light into the woods and saw a glimpse of white fur. Charlie, come here, boy, I called out. Instead of running to me, he ran farther into the woods. I hesitated only a second before running after him. It was a miracle I was able to just barely see him with the flashlight. I ran for what felt like hours before I noticed a clearing up ahead. Charlie disappeared right before my eyes as he entered the clearing. What the hell? I said, shocked.

It was then that I noticed something much stranger. In the clearing stood a two-story Victorian-style house. The tails of the house in the woods run throughout my head. How did I find it? No, how is it still in good condition? The house was clearly old and there wasn't a single sign of human life, but it looked pristine. There was no moss growing on it, nor was the paint bleached. Not even the porch had dirt on it.

I marveled at the sight, taking it in slowly. The house looked completely fine, but there was this weird, eerie feeling in the air. It sent shivers down my spine, but I decided to investigate the house. After all, this was the house of those tales, the same house my siblings, and I spent most of our childhood trying to find. I hurriedly walked onto the porch and to the door. I knocked on it despite the fact that there was clearly no one here other than me. I held my breath for a second in fear that someone might actually respond.

After getting no response, I carefully opened the door. Like I expected, the inside was in pristine, as well. I placed the bat I had brought with me down beside the door before searching the first floor. I soon realized that the house appeared as if someone still lived in it. I instinctively pulled my phone out and began taking pictures of the different rooms on the first floor. After I got a sufficient amount of pictures of the first floor, I moved up to the second floor. This floor had many bedrooms, each room looking as if someone lived in them. I took multiple pictures of these rooms as well. One bedroom still has a room.

had messed up bed covers as if someone had just gotten out of them. The bedroom drew my attention the most. I looked around at the different paintings, photographs and jewelry. May I help you? A voice said behind me. I jumped out of fright and turned around. I was met with a woman dressed in a Victorian-style dress. I calmed my racing heart before responding. I'm sorry, I thought no one lived here. She laughed. I'm not surprised. I do live out in the middle of nowhere. It's late, but are you hungry? As soon as she asked, my stomach growled in response. She chuckled, follow me.

So do you live here by yourself? I asked as I followed behind her. No, my husband and I live here together. He is off in town tonight. He'll be back in the morning, she answered. I eyed her suspiciously. No logical explanation could explain why she was living in a house in the middle of the woods. A house that is in perfect condition,

and not to mention she looks like she was. walked straight out of one of the portraits I saw. As we walked down the stairs, the smell of food hit me. It made my stomach growl louder in response, but I couldn't help the unease I felt. I had only been in the house for at most 15 minutes. How could food already be prepared? I had been on the first floor for a good nine minutes, and besides I didn't smell food when I first opened the door. I shook my head, maybe I was just being paranoid. We made it to the dining room where the table was already set for two. The food looked as delicious as it smelled, and I could hardly wait to dig in. We took a moment of silence to pray before we ate. I quickly dug

into the food. I hadn't realized I was so hungry. This is delicious Mrs. Mrs. Mrs. Preston, please call me Mrs. Preston. I'm flattered you find my food so delicious, she replied with a smile. Her smile sent chills down my spine despite it looking so nice. I mentally shook my head, it's just my nerves. Aren't you going to eat? I asked, pointing to her food. She chuckled, I will, let me go get something first. As soon as she left, I realized I wasn't as hungry as I thought.

In fact, I felt nauseous. I set my utensils down and stood up. I walked around the dining room for a bit before stopping short in front of a portrait. And the portrait was Mrs. Preston, and the frame had the words in loving memory of Elise Preston, 1826 to 1850, carved in it. I froze immediately as my stomach turned sickeningly. She's dead.

What are you doing? Her voice sounded behind me. I quickly turned around. I was just walking around a bit to make more room for the food. It's really delicious, and it'd be a shame to waste it. Oh, wonderful. She said cheerfully. I breathed a sigh of relief and looked over at the clock on the wall.

Wow, would you look at the time? I'd better head home. Thank you for the time. the food. Her face fell as the room became much colder. The room quickly went from pristine condition to a very poor state. I looked at the worn down table and the plates of food. My eyes widened as bile raised in my throat. I hunched over and threw up the contents in my stomach. It was horrible. The food was decomposed and there were maggots and other insects on it. I continuously threw up even when my stomach was empty. Her shrill laughter echoed throughout the room. Oh, it's been so

long since I last had a decent meal. A young man like you would be the perfect appetizer. I raised my head and saw her grotesque form. She was a dark grayish color. Her hair was but a few strands. She was decomposed in many areas. In some places I could see her bones and other places consisted of insects. The look of it made me dry heave. What's wrong, darling? Don't like what you see. No matter, you'll soon be in bliss. She continued as she lunged for me. I fell backwards, just barely escaping her clutches. One of her fingernails, however, sliced me and it cut deep into my skin. It burned like a knife and continuously bled. I scrambled to my feet and rushed to the door. I felt the floorboard giveaway and my leg fell through. I shouted in pain as a piece of the broken

floorboard got my thigh. I struggled to get my leg out, but it was no use. Elise was already in front of me. She said nothing as she grabbed me by the collar and pulled me up before tossing me across the room. I slammed against the wall and nearly blacked out from the collision. I struggled up and ran for the door once more. Do you seriously think you can escape me? She laughed sinisterly. She was on me in an instant and had me face down on the floor. She dug her decayed claws into my back. I yelled in pain once more as tears fell from my eyes. I felt her lean down, her against my neck. I'll be sure to enjoy you thoroughly. I close my eyes as I tried to struggle against her, but it was no use. I felt her teeth on my neck and in a boost of adrenaline I was able to shake her off.

I crawled to the front door and grasped at my bat I had left there. She grabbed my leg and pulled me back towards her. I turned over and swung the bat hard. It knocked her down and she shrieked. How dare you do that? I struggled up and didn't hesitate. I swung the bat down continuously, pulverizing her decomposed flesh. A dark substance splattered onto me, but I paid no mind and continued getting her. I didn't stop until she had stopped moving. I was breathing heavily and leaned against the bat for support. I caught my breath and then made my way out of the house. I turned around to get one last glimpse at the house. It now looked like a typical rundown house. It didn't look anything like it did previously. I looked to the sky and noticed it

was getting light again. I had been there the whole night, but it only felt like a few minutes. I walked slowly, each step filled with pain. My vision continuously dimmed as the forest around me began to come to life with the sun. Finally, I made it out and stumbled to my parents' house. I tried calling out to them, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. I reached the door and fell against it heavily. I tried to catch my breath with no luck. I heard the sound of footsteps and then the shouts of my parents as my vision went completely black.

I later woke up in the hospital, hooked up to IVs. My blurry vision just barely made out my parents relieved faces. I slightly smiled before the events that happened flashed through my head. It made my stomach churn as I leaned over the bed and dry heaved in the trash can. After that, I was visited by doctors who continuously observed my condition. I tried to tell them what happened, but they all agreed that the stress from the situation caused my brain to misremember it. It didn't help when I tried to show them pictures of the house, but an error showed instead. They did, however, have multiple questions for the puncture wounds I had gotten from Elise's claws.

Naturally, I explained to them what happened, but they found it hard to believe. Even though it was difficult to believe, the gouges in my back were proof I got attacked by a person. They held me in the hospital while they treated the infection that the wounds had caused. This information was given over to the police who had begun searching the woods for the house. It wasn't long after this that I was discharged from the hospital with medicine. to take for my injuries. After some searching, the police still hadn't found the house in the clearing. It was then that I offered to show them where it was, since I wanted to prove to everyone it really existed. After much hesitation, they agreed. And so, we entered the forest, despite not

really remembering the path I had taken when I followed what I believed to be Charlie, I instinctively knew where to go. It was like something was drawing me back to the house. Sometime later I spotted an all too familiar clearing up ahead. This should be it up ahead, I called out. We reached the clearing and there stood the house in pristine condition once more. Look, that's the house with the lady in it. I said, the officers looked at me strangely before one spoke up. Son, all we see is a very rundown and fallen apart home.

I looked from them to the house in shock. How could they not see it? It's very clearly in good condition. Why was I the only one who could see the house in pristine condition? Look, we will inspect the place if you want, but you most likely fell through the second floor. There wouldn't be anyone living here, he continued. I nodded and watched as all but one entered the house. After a few minutes they came out.

Their faces told me all I needed to know. There wasn't anything there. I reluctantly conceded and we headed back. I left the clearing before a chill ran down my spine. I stopped and turned around. On the porch, waving at me, was Elise. Her sinister smile sent shivers down my spine and made me sick to my stomach. I quickly turned away and followed after the officers.

After this, I bid farewell to my parents and quickly went back to my home. I wanted to be as far away from that place as possible. Despite what everyone has told me, I know that what happened to me is real. The events of that night have been seared into my mind to the point I can't comfortably sleep at night. I've been having nightmares of what happened ever since. It's because of this that I have come here to search for answers. Does anyone know what happened to me? What is Elise?

How come I was the only one who could see the house in pristine condition? Why were the pictures I had taken of it gone? If anyone has any clues, please let me know. Also, a word of advice to everyone, don't mindlessly enter a house in the woods. You might get more than what you bargained for. I've always hated the forest behind my house. The dense canopy of trees blocks any sunlight from breaking through,

and hitting the ground, turning it into a murky abyss of roots, and brush that would grab at the legs of anyone brave enough to be passing through. My bedroom window faces out towards that forest. In the mass of trees, shadows dance and form mysterious shapes in the darkness, provoking a deep sense of unease within me. At night, I could swear I have seen silhouettes of strange and bizarre creatures, skulking around, just past the tree line. As if they're watching me, waiting. I don't know what for. That is why I have always hated the forest behind my house. I don't go in the garden. The forest backs

directly onto our land. I would feel the shadows dancing towards me, closer and closer, until it's too late to escape. My family thinks I have an overactive imagination. That the forest isn't as dark as I think, and that there is nothing lurking in there waiting for me to let my guard down so it can hurt me. That 19 years old is too old for this crap. I don't care. Something is out there. Something nasty. My younger brother, Kyle, likes to make fun of me. He's only a year younger than me, and having grown up so close in age, he knows very well how to get under my skin. Ever since I warned him about the shadows years ago, he has made fun of me for it. Last year, he tricked me into the forest and left me there when I wasn't looking. Alone and afraid,

could feel the suffocating darkness closing in on me from all around, the shadows lurking within. I could feel something brushing against my shins, almost wrapping itself around me before my dad managed to pull me out and carry me home. I didn't know what it was that I had felt. Not at the time. It must have been slithering through the knee-high brush, invisible to anyone who wasn't looking out for it. It felt prickly against my legs and left deep scratches. Unsurprisingly, by my parents, this was chalked down to being thorns. Thorns. No, I know what I felt, and it wasn't any damn thorns. It felt warm and fleshy, like the skin of some unimaginable creature with spines along its body. I had also briefly felt something rough and wet, which left a long scrape around my ankle that was not

unlike a road rash. This was the first time that the shadows had manifested themselves physically to me. It was the moment I knew that what I had been seeing all these years wasn't some trick of the imagination, twisting the darkness. and manipulating my eyes into seeing what wasn't there. After that day, the shadows were not just shadows anymore. If I looked out of my bedroom window at night, I could see the fleshy body of what I now realized was just one creature stalking through the forest in the dark.

Having previously taken the forms of many differently shaped shadows as the moon positioned itself at different points across the sky throughout the night, it was pale, almost humanoid in shape but abnormally tall, and very skinny. I could see its eyes bulge as its head twitched from side to side, scanning its surroundings like a starving animal hunting for prey. Its head was long and the creature had no hair. But the mouth, the mouth was the worst part. The creature's mouth wrapped right the way across the front of its face, and opened so wide

it's as if its whole face was peeling open to reveal rows upon rows of short but razor-sharp teeth. But the most disgusting part of its mouth was the tongue. Its tongue was as wide as its face and twice as long. It's no wonder its mouth had to open so wide. And just when I thought things couldn't get even worse, I noticed it had begun to come closer. What used to stalk behind the tree line was now gradually further in front of it each night. A couple of weeks ago, I could see the top of its head stood behind my garden fence.

My garden fence that is seven feet tall. A few nights ago, I saw it in my garden on all fours, rooting through the trash with its tongue. I felt sick. What was I going to do? If it came any closer, it would be practically in my bedroom. Stupidly, I decided to confide in my brother. Yeah, he made fun of me, but who else could I go to? My parents were on the verge of sending me to the psych ward, and my friends laughed at me whenever I brought it up.

Plus, I know that he'd seen it too. He denied it around my parents because of how they reacted to me bringing it up, but he admitted last week to seeing it in the garden at the same time I did. His idea a couple days later makes me wish I had never told him because Kyle told me he wanted to go and hunt it down. I told him that was the stupidest damn idea he'd ever had, that we would get ourselves oft, and there was no way I was stepping foot in that forest.

His excuse was that there was two of us, and two were stronger than one. But I thought that when it's two teenagers against a supernatural being, we stood no chance. But of course, being the jerk that he is, my brother told my parents he was taking, me out into the forest to conquer my fear once and for all. I knew that he had done it so I couldn't back out, and just as he intended, they practically

forced me to go with him despite my protests. Yes, I know. I don't need to be told that this was really, really dumb. So, we ventured. Deeper and deeper we went into the darkness, brush and roots reaching out for us as we pass by. I had an awful sinking feeling. Once far enough away from the house, Kyle stopped me.

He reached into the bag he. had brought and produced a shotgun. I was stunned. Dad would get him if he found out, but I couldn't complain about that kind of defense. In the forest, I kept hearing noises around us and seeing movements out of the corner of my eye. I tried to calm down by telling myself that it only came out at night, but I still felt as unsafe as I ever had. As dust began to fall, I begged Kyle to turn back, and reluctantly he agreed it would be too dark to find our way back if it got too late. However, we were too late. Darkness fell faster than we could have imagined, and soon enough we were holding on to each other so we didn't get separated. There was no way we were ever going to find our way

home in this. I could feel panic growing stronger inside me. I knew that it would be out, and even if we did make it home, the thing might be in our garden again. Frightening noises grew stronger the further we walked, and the more uneasy we became. I was terrified at this point. It was made worse when out of the darkness, something grabbed hold of my ankle. Judging by the noise he made, something had grabbed Kyle's two. Suddenly we were ripped apart and flung in opposite directions, into the pitch black and away from the safety of each other. I landed in a heap among a pile of leaves and sticks, and I could hear Kyle screaming in the distance. I had no idea how far we had been thrown, but he sounded farther away

by the second. I now I had realized that the creature had found us and sounded as though it was dragging Kyle along with it, wherever it was going. Adrenaline pumped through me. I hauled myself up off the ground and sprinted after the sound of my brother's distressed cries, not thinking about what I would do if I caught up to them. A shotgun blast echoed through the trees, making my ears ring. Was that him? I mean, who else could it have been?

My legs were stinging from all the cuts I gained while running through the brush, but I kept going, determined to find Kyle. After a few minutes, his cries drifted too far away for me to hear anymore. I fell to my knees, defeated and terrified. I felt my way through the forest and found an opening in a tree. Sobbing, I curled up inside and hoped that I would make it to dawn. Hours later, it was even darker than when Kyle, and I had been separated. I had somehow managed to fall asleep in my little tree hole, but I was awoken by a loud crunch nearby.

I held my breath. Could it be Kyle, or could it be the creature now on the prowl looking for me? Having caught and done unthinkable things to my brother, I didn't want to imagine where Kyle was right now. Tears of terror welled up in my eyes as two large white orbs slowly peered from the right, and into my tree hole, looking directly at me. Prep, it was looking directly at me, and I could have sworn that a glimpse of a smile appeared across its disgusting mouth

as its tongue lashed at my face. I screamed. It was like no pain I had ever felt before. Like acid-coated sandpaper, it felt as though it had taken off a chunk of my face. There was no time to assess the damage before it lashed at me again, gripping my ankle and yanking me out of the hole, dragging me through the brush. It was so fast. My already wounded face was pulled through the dirt,

and twigs on the forest floor, and from somewhere nearby another gunshot rang out. What the hell? There's no way that could be Kyle, right? The creature wasn't phased. It continued to haul me across the ground. At some point, my head crunched against a rock in the mud, and I blacked out. I don't know how long I was out. I woke strung up in a dingy, wet cave, my body aching and stinging.

It reeked, although I couldn't figure out what the smell was. It was almost metallic. There was a wet sound coming from somewhere nearby, which filled me with dread, and as my eyes adjusted to the light level of the cave, I saw the source of it. It was the creature. I held my breath. It was crouching over something and, eating it. The sound was sickening.

As I focused on it, I realized I could see a pair of legs limply slumped behind where the creature was crouched. Though, I let out a small sob as I saw that the creature was crouched over my barely recognizable brother, and as I then realized what the stench in the cave was. Its head whipped around as I noticed it had heard me. When its head moved, I could see its tongue hanging out of its revolt. bolting mouth, smeared with dark red and parts of flesh. And behind it, I then spotted the mess of Kyle. It had been getting him. Kyle lay there limply, one eye open and staring towards me, indicating that he was still alive. Parts of his face were caved in and his open. I was half out

where some of the flesh around it had been taken away. As the creature turned, I could see Kyle twitching and covered in red. I couldn't imagine the pain he was in. His clothes hung in shreds, and he was kicked in dirt. I was so focused on Kyle, terrified of the condition he was in, that I hadn't noticed the creature slowly stalking towards me on all fours, low to the ground. I had now realized that this was the thing

that had slithered past my shins in the brush last year. If my dad hadn't saved me, I would have been where Kyle is now. The creature crouched in front of me and its tongue hung out of its revolting mouth. Crimson thickly coated it, dribbling onto the ground, and chunks clung to its mouth,

and the spikes on its tongue, which I could see up close was composed of many tiny, sharp spikes. Its eyes moved downwards to my stomach, which had been exposed as my shirt ripped when I was dragged along the ground. I realized it was now going to start getting me. The creature slowly got me, and I screamed in agony. I can't even describe how it felt. A smile crept across its mouth as it continued. The pain was so severe that I began to drift in and out of consciousness. I was just awake enough to suddenly hear a crunch from my right, just near the entrance of the cave,

then an ear-piercing bang which echoed and lingered in the confined cave. Simultaneously, a warm splatter of red hit my face, and the creature let out a devilish screech before another bang rang out and the screeching ceased. I heard a man's voice echo. I hit the floor and blacked out again. That's the last thing I remember before waking up here in the hospital. A large, padded gau's bandage covers the rough mess of my stomach, which is still tender and stinging. I haven't seen it, and frankly I don't want to.

The doctors are saying I'll need a skin graft on my face. I don't yet know what became of Kyle, or if he's even alive, but it'll be a miracle if he's able to recover from the state I saw him in. The hospital staff told me that the man I heard before passing out was a hunter who saw the creature stalking us and then dragging us through the forest. He had tried to shoot at it twice, once when it had Kyle, and once when it had me. He'd been nearby when I started screaming and found us. I have my doubts about whether it's dead.

All I do know is that I will be here in the hospital for quite a while. I'll be safe if it survived. I mean, I really hope so. We never should have gone into that forest. I gasped for breath as I stumbled through the forest, branches scratching my face and tearing at my clothes. My heart pounded in my chest. threatening to pop out of my ribcage at any moment.

Behind me, I could hear her, or rather, the thing that had been posing as her, sprinting through the undergrowth with an inhuman speed and grace. It had all started so innocently. My girlfriend and I had wanted to get away from the city and spend some time in nature, so we had planned a camping trip in the Appalachian Mountains. We had hiked for hours to reach a secluded spot deep in the woods, where we set up our tent and started a campfire. We talked, laughed, and shared stories under the starry sky, enjoying the peaceful solitude of the wilderness.

But then something had changed. It was subtle at first, tiny details that didn't quite add up. The way she moved, the way she spoke, the way she looked at me with dark, uncanny eyes that seemed to reflect something other than human emotion. I had tried to brush it off to convince myself that I was just being paranoid, but as the night wore on, the signs became more and more obvious. And then, as we lay in our tent, she had shifted. Her bones popped and twisted, her skin tearing, and reforming into something that was no longer human. A skinwalker, a mimic, a creature that had taken on the form of my girlfriend to lure me in and get me. It looked like a human stripped of their skin, leaving only the muscles, tendons, visible with two empty eye sockets,

two backward bending appendages under its armpit. I had barely managed to escape with my life. I had grabbed a knife beside the sleeping bag and slashed at the creature, giving me enough time to scramble out of the tent, and run blindly into the forest, freaking out and looking for an escape. Now I was lost, alone, and terrified. As I stumbled through the undergrowth, my mind raced with thoughts of what I had seen, what I had experienced. Was this real? Was I imagining things?

Had I lost my mind? But the sound of its paws pounding on the forest floor was all the conference. I needed. I had to find my real girlfriend. I had to get out of these woods. I heard a twig snap behind me and my heart leaped into my throat. I didn't dare turn around, but I picked up my pace running faster than I ever had before. My breath was ragged and my legs burned with exhaustion, but I pushed myself harder, willing myself to keep moving. That's when it hit me. Earlier that day, we were back at the car with my real girlfriend, Ames, when I left first to look for a camping spot, She hadn't followed me, but at some point what I thought was her stepped out into the trail,

saying she had caught up to me. That thing had stalked me from the beginning. Finally, after what felt like hours of running, I saw a light in the distance. It was faint, but it was enough to give me hope. I stumbled toward it, my heart pounding in my chest as I drew closer. As I emerged from the woods, I saw her. My real girlfriend in the parking lot and sitting in our sedan, looking up at me with a mixture of relief and confusion. Thank God, she said, running towards me. I've been so worried. What happened to you?

You've been gone for hours. I nearly called the police. I collapsed into her arms, tears streaming down my face. I tried to speak to tell her what had happened, but my words came out in choke sobs. She held me, soothing me with gentle words and a warm embrace. It took me hours to calm down as we sped out of the moment. there to tell her everything that had happened. She listened patiently, her expression growing

increasingly horrified as I recounted my encounter with the Skinwalker. When I was finished, she hugged me again, her eyes full of understanding. I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I was safe for now, but I knew that the memory of the Skinwalker would haunt me for the rest of my days, something would always be watching from the woods. It had been a few hours later when I heard from a camping buddy that Park Rangers had discovered a humanoid creature exactly matching the description of what came after my girlfriend. Something had eliminated it. Let me preface this by saying that I am by no means a believer in the occult or the mystics.

I'd like to believe that I am of a sound mind and to an extent see myself as more rational and logical than of a particular creative stature. I work at an old, historic hotel in a large Danish city. It's by no means ancient. It was built in the 19th century and is only historic because of its old age, and because it was used by the Nazis as headquarters during the 1940s occupation. It is a nice hotel though and I do enjoy working here. It is beautiful in a very luxurious 1950s way and goes a long way to give off that vibe.

I only work every second weekend and the graveyard shift allows me to focus on my studies while getting paid to do so. The job is pretty straightforward. man the reception for 10 to 12 hours, welcome guests, perform light administrative tasks, open and close doors for late night arrivals, and once every night I tour the grounds. As I said, straightforward. Of course, every now and again you get the annoying drunkard spewing their intoxicated ramblings, the aftermath of futile attempts from couples trying to salvage their marriages, strange requests, and odd guests.

Nothing extremely unusual or terrifying. I don't think I have ever felt scared or creeped out. I once got super stressed when there was a local power outage and emergency protocols kicked in, but as a Danish saying goes, you gotta take the sour with the sweet. I am certain there's a fitting English expression, but that's not my strong suit.

Last night, however, something made me reconsider. I am left grappling with the unnerving possibility that my once sound mind may be faltering, or that the world of the occult may be more real than I ever dared to believe, and I'm not sure which is worse. I feel like I must make something clear before I proceed. I don't like leading people on. I am writing this to get advice, clear my mind, and make sense of my experience.

There won't be a huge crescendo at the end of this. Nothing like that happened, it is more the accumulated collection of WTF moments, and the unsettling feeling that something far more sinister is looming, either perceived or very real. Last night began like any other. With just one more guest to check in before the clock struck midnight, I looked forward to a quiet evening of studying. Thanks to a national holiday, our bar and restaurant were closed.

It felt as though the entire hotel was fast asleep even though occupancy was at 91%. This was great because it meant more time for my studies and with exams looming, it was almost perfect. I midnight people had emerged and the younger crowd went to the city and I was almost stun with all the administrative work, which meant eight hours of studies ahead. Finally settled with my laptop, I opened Visual Studio and began typing when the phone rang. Typical. I launched into my standard greeting, but before I could finish, the voice on the other end interrupted me. It was a rough and hoarse voice that met me. It was as though the sound of

stones cracking had found a voice of its own, but whatever was said was unintelligible to me. I said something along the lines of connection issues, but again before I could finish, I was cut off. But not by that voice. Instead, the most enchanting, velvety female voice came back to me in perfect Danish. But not modern Danish. It was old. Speaking in an antiquated Danish dialect, reminiscent of 1920s radio broadcasts, asking if I could come and help with the heat as it was unbearably freezing cold in the room. mesmerized, I answered that I'd be right on my way.

I felt drawn to the voice, and honestly, I wanted to see whatever beauty inhabited that voice. Surely, she had to be like an angel. Angelic is perhaps the most fitting word to describe that voice. It made me forget all about the devilish counterpart, which had initially met me. Now, I would have rushed to the room. I actually did but was caught on the stairs. The doorbell rang, and I had to open it. I let the guy in and went back to my desk.

I usually wait until whoever I let and disappears into the elevator. He took forever. This drunken idiot couldn't have walked slower even if he tried. It was only during this agonizing wait that I realized the room number the beautiful voice had given me. 413 didn't exist. There were only 12 rooms on the fourth floor. I can't explain why, but a wave of embarrassment and disappointment washed over me as if I had let down someone truly important.

I was determined to find her and make it right. Since room 313 was vacant, I deduced that she must be in room 213. Sure enough, the name. Cecilia appeared on my screen. Great. Amazing. Off I went. Off to help Cecilia.

Angel Cecilia. All jolly and with an extra blanket and an electrical heater in my hand. I turned the corner and saw 213. I knocked on the door. As the door turned, something hit me like a wall. I don't have the words to describe it. The stench. It was like nothing I've ever felt like before. It had a certain strength to it. Like when you enter a sauna. Instead of heat, it was a wall of smell. Uncooked meat. My stomach instantly turned. And Cecilia, or whatever that woman was, was far from angelic.

She wasn't necessarily ugly, but just ordinary, or resembling a picture come to life, or something else. Like an AI had created her and she just kind of spawned into the world. Very uncanny valley. She didn't say anything. Just motioned me to come inside. Every fiber of my being resisted, but I had to. I walked through that thick wall and she closed the door behind me. I suddenly became very alert. My mind instantly turned on fight or flight. mode. The room was fine for me, at least heatwise, maybe even a bit too hot, and I said so, very fast. I didn't look at her. I just went back towards the door again. I put the blanket and electrical heater on the floor and muttered some excuse and fled. I practically sprinted

down to the reception, through the lobby, and straight outside into the fresh air. I don't know for how long I stood there, but I didn't return inside until another guest arrived. I sat down by the computer again and decided to research. I put in 213 and found Cecilia. I looked at the booking and saw a note from my colleague. Guest checked out at 747 in the evening. Work thing. My entire body froze. Whoever occupied that room was not the Cecilia who had made the reservation. Under normal circumstances, I would have headed straight to the room or called security, but this time, I hesitated. I didn't want to be scolded by security. for not handling the situation myself,

nor did I want to face whatever was in that room alone. Admittedly, it was selfish, but at that moment, all I could think was, this is a job for housekeeping, not me. For the next hour, I remained rooted to my seat at the desk, unable to muster the courage to do anything else. I was genuinely terrified, and I know you might think it seemed stupid or irresponsible,

but there was something in that room, something with Cecilia, that just wasn't right. On the flip side, I was now wide awake and alert. To understand this next WTF moment, I need to give you a clear understanding of the hotel's lobby layout. Upon entering the hotel, you're greeted by the reception area. To the left, you'll find the bar accompanied by a cozy lounge that seamlessly extends into the restaurant and dining hall. On the right side, another lounge area stretches towards the lavatories and eventually leads to the rest of the hotel. To access the rest of the hotel, you can either walk up the stairs or continue past the restrooms

toward the ballrooms, conference rooms, and fitness center. The only indoor entrance to the basement is situated discreetly beneath the stairs. Anyone entering the lobby from the restaurant, descending the stairs, or coming through the main entrance will be seen from the reception. There is no way around it. So now you can understand my utter astonishment when the basement camera's motion alert was triggered. I was wide awake, sitting in the reception, no one had walked by or past me. I turned on the surveillance software to get a complete view of the basement through the camera network.

Nothing there. A glitch. Probably. It was almost time for me to tour the grounds. So why not just start in the basement? Usually, I take that last, but I wasn't exactly excited to go up those stairs again. So down I went. The basement is designed with these tunnel-like pathways. We have some offices down there and the tunnels were once intended to facilitate housekeeping. Luckily, you can walk the basement in one large circle, but it gets intersected by all these paths, that crisscross. Thankfully, the basement routine only takes me through the circle.

As I walked the circle, I was hauntingly aware of my surroundings. Like the uneasiness you feel when walking alone in an unfamiliar city at night, sensing unseen eyes on you and feeling out of place. Naturally, I was aware that the heightened sense was probably due in part to the whole Cecilia incident and the unexplained camera alert. But still, there was something else as well. It was as if there was a distant humming, most likely because of the machinery in the basement, but it all felt so out of place.

Gradually, I noticed that I was becoming lightheaded. It made sense to me as I hadn't had anything to drink since before the Cecilia encounter, deciding that a refreshing glass of water would be a welcome, change from the numerous cups of coffee I typically consume during a shift, I aimed to deter into one of the basement restrooms. As I turned the corner to take the next crossway, I was confronted by the source of the earlier movement. There, in the dim light, a set of animalistic eyes floated. They were locked on me. Completely still, I could slowly make out a shape behind the eyes. It was akin to a cat's posture when hunting, waiting to pounce,

but the outline was rough with no fur. As I stood there, staring, it seemed almost like it was smiling back at me. I can't explain it. It was a sort of dream works like grin, unnatural in all ways but trying not to be, like an imitation. It stood there with its cat eyes and cat posture

just four times as big with its rough shape and sea-shaped mouth, observing me like I was a pet. I broke my staring off, and once again, I just nopped the F out of this, I have never considered myself a coward or particularly afraid of anything, but honestly, I think everyone would have done the same.

Luckily, it didn't move behind me. Nothing followed me, not even a single sound. In truth, it was as if I had been enveloped in a thick blanket of deafening silence, like there were no more sounds left, until I shut the door behind me, hard. I think under normal circumstances, I'd allow myself time to adjust, to secure the door, behind me, to come together again. I think anyone would, but it was not allowed. As if on cue, the third WTF moment of the night came. I glanced out of the lobby windows and saw the first rays of sunlight beginning to peek in between the beams linking the glass. It felt disorienting,

like a severe case of jet lag. My mind struggled to comprehend what was happening and as if my body wasn't attuned correctly. The sun emerging meant I had been in that basement for hours. either circling or staring. I actually don't know what happened from that moment until housekeeping came into work. I think I must have been walking in circles in the lobby. I didn't think straight for that hour in between, completely lost and thought.

The terrifying events of the night had left me feeling as though the very fabric of my reality had unraveled and my distress must have been palpable. The housekeeper, sensing my unease, didn't argue when I asked her to accompany me to room 213 to check up on a guest. My disheveled state must have been enough to convince her that something was off. The last WTF moment came when we opened the door to room 213. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The room was spotless, no sign of Cecilia, no menacing creature, no repulsive odor of raw meat. Even the blanket and heater had vanished. Grasping at straws, I made up some dumb excuse of not getting enough sleep the night before and dozing off on the job, only for my subconscious to be. to conjure this horrifying guest scenario. The housekeeper gave me a look that was equal parts disbelief and pity, but she ultimately decided to let the matter rest and headed downstairs.

Feeling completely drained after a thorough scolding from my coworker for failing to do my job properly, I headed home. Sleep seemed like the only refuge from the nightmarish events I had experienced. I tried to sleep, and I believe I did, but throughout my attempt at sleep, I was tormented by visions of Cecilia. her looming, unnatural presence in a series of dreams.

Was this merely a recurring nightmare, had my lie to my coworker actually been the truth? There is some solace in that thought. I feel like my own line between reality and my subconscious has become blurred. I am now back at work in writing this, and hoping some sense of control will return by doing so. For now, I am just sitting in the reception, happily surrounded by people in the bar, lobby, and restaurant. But I'm dreading the entire scenery once the clock strikes midnight, and the bar closes.

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I was a season pilot with over a decade of experience under my belt. As I prepared for takeoff in Los Angeles, I felt confident and at ease, knowing that this was just another routine flight. The weather was clear and the flight plan was uneventful. But about halfway through the flight, as we crossed over the rocky mountains, the plane suddenly hit turbulence.

At first, it was just a few bumps, but then the shaking became more violent. and the plane started to lose altitude. I tried to maintain control of the plane, but it seemed like everything was happening so fast. I could hear passengers screaming and fear, and the sound of things crashing around me. Before I knew it, the plane had hit the ground

and everything went black. When I regained consciousness, I was surrounded by wreckage and debris. I felt the pain in my head and arm, and I knew I was injured. I tried to move, but my body felt heavy and weak. and weak. As the reality of my situation sank in, I felt a wave of fear and desperation wash over me. I looked around and realized that there were no other survivors. The plane had crashed in a remote,

mountainous area, and I was completely alone. All I had was a pocket knife, a small amount of water, and the clothes on my back. I knew that I had to act fast if I wanted to survive. I quickly assessed my injuries and tended to the ones that were most pressing. Then, I started to I searched the wreckage for any useful supplies and found a first aid kit, a flare gun, and a map of the surrounding area. I realized that I had to rely on my own survival skills if I was going to make it out of this alive. As I stumbled through the dense forest, my head was spinning with confusion and pain. I was disoriented from the crash and my injuries were worsening by the minute.

I clutched at my abdomen, feeling a sharp pain that seemed to radiate throughout my entire body. I tried to focus on my surroundings, but my mind was foggy from the trauma. That's when I first noticed the crow. It was perched on a nearby tree branch, staring at me with its beady black eyes. As I looked around, I noticed the sun glinting off the pocket knife on my belt, and I realized that the crow was eyeing something shiny. I remembered something I had read about crows,

that they were attracted to shiny objects. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but as I continued, I realized that the crow was following me. The bird seemed to be tracking my every move, and whenever I tried to head in a certain direction, it would swoop down and fly in front of me, calling loudly. It was as if the bird was trying to lead me astray to prevent me from finding my way back to civilization.

Despite the crow's persistence, I continued, using the map and my survival skills to guide me. But the bird continued to follow me, and I couldn't help but wonder why. As the days went on, I started to realize just how dire my situation was. I was running low on food and water, and my injuries were becoming increasingly severe. The birds seemed to be tracking my every move, and whenever I tried to head in a certain direction, it would swoop down and fly in front of me, calling loudly.

I tried to shake off the feeling of paranoia that was creeping up on me, but I couldn't ignore the fact that the crow seemed to be actively working against me. It was leading me away from sources of food and water and seemed to be trying to keep me lost in the wilderness. As I stumbled through the forest, trying to find my way back to civilization, the crow continued to follow me. It seemed to know exactly where I was going and was doing everything in its power to prevent me from getting there. I couldn't shake off the feeling that the bird was somehow connected to my predicament, and I knew that I had to find a way to outsmart it if I was going to survive. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that the crow was following me for a reason.

It wasn't just a coincidence that it had been tracking me for days, leading me away from sources of food and water. I started to develop theories about why the bird was so fixated on me. One theory was that the crow was simply scathinging for food and had learned that I was a potential source of sustenance. Maybe it had seen me struggling to find food and water and had decided to stick around in case I passed, so it could feast on my remains. Another theory was that the crow was somehow connected to the plane crash. Perhaps it had witnessed the crash and was now following me as a way of guiding me to safety. Or maybe it was somehow involved in causing the crash

and was now trying to prevent me from getting back to civilization and revealing the truth. As far-fetched as these theories sounded, I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something more going on with the crow. It was too persistent and too intelligent to be just a rammed, a random bird following me around. I knew I had to be careful and find a way to outsmart it. I remembered reading somewhere that crows are one of the most intelligent birds in the world.

They are known to recognize individual human faces and remember them for years. In fact, some research suggests that crows may even have a form of consciousness and self-awareness. I recalled how crows are capable of problem solving and even using tools. For example, they have been seen dropping nuts onto hard surfaces to crack them open and using sticks to extract insects from crevices. They are also known to be able to solve complex puzzles and tasks in order to obtain food rewards. With all of this in mind, I couldn't help but wonder if the crow following me was somehow

aware of my situation and actively trying to prevent me from finding help. It seemed too intelligent and purposeful to be just a coincidence. As night fell, I heard the distant howling of wolves in the distance. I knew I had to find shelter fast. But as I stumbled through the darkness, I realized that the crow was still following me. And then it hit me. The bird wasn't just following me. It was leading the wolves to me.

Panic set and as I realized the gravity of the situation. I had to find shelter and fast, before the wolves caught up to me. But the crow seemed determined to make sure that didn't happen. Every time I stumbled across what seemed like a good hiding place, the bird would fly ahead and call loudly, alerting the wolves to my location. I was running out of options, and the realization that I might not make it out of this situation alive began to set in. But I couldn't give up.

I had to keep fighting, keep searching for a way to outsmart the bird, and the wolves. Despite the fear that was gnawing at me, I forced myself to think logically. I knew that crows were highly intelligent creatures, capable of of complex problem solving and even using tools. If I was going to survive, I needed to use my own intelligence to outsmart the bird. But first, I needed to find a way to escape the wolves. I knew that they would be able to track me by scent,

so I needed to find a way to mask my own scent and throw them off my trail. I grabbed some dirt and leaves and rubbed them all over my body, hoping to mask my scent with the smell of the forest. I waited anxiously in the darkness, listening for any sign of the wolves. The crow caught loudly overhead, and for a moment I was sure that I was done for. But then, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the distant sound of the wolves howls

growing fainter and fainter. Relief washed over me as I realized that my plan had worked. The wolves had lost my scent, and the crow had been foiled. But I knew that I couldn't let my guard down yet. The bird was still out there, and I had a feeling that it wasn't going to give up easily. I woke up early in the morning, feeling a little more rested but still on edge from the events of the previous day. As I sat up and stretched, I glanced over at my backpack and froze. My map was missing.

I searched through my backpack again and again, hoping that maybe I had just misplaced it, but it was nowhere to be found. I couldn't believe it, had the crow really stolen my map. Part of me thought it was ridiculous. How could a bird possibly have the intelligence to steal something like a map? But then again, after everything that had happened, I couldn't rule anything out. I started to feel a surge of panic. The map was my lifeline. It was my only chance of finding my way back to civilization.

Without it, I was completely lost. I began to question whether I could trust anything around me. Was the crow really just a bird, or was it something more sinister? Had it been leading me astray from the beginning? I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was being watched and that everything around me was somehow connected to my predicament. I knew I had to keep my wits about me and stay focused if I was going to survive. But with every passing moment, my paranoia grew, and I couldn't help but wonder what else the crow was capable of. Later in the day, I found myself looking for food once

again. I had managed to find some berries and a few nuts, but it wasn't enough to sustain me for long. As I sat down to eat, the crow suddenly swooped down and gobbled up the last of my food before flying off to a nearby branch. I stared at the bird in disbelief, wondering how it could be so brazen as to steal my food right in front of me. But what really caught my attention was the way it locked eye contact with me

before taking off. It was as if the crow was trying to communicate with me, or at least trying to make a point. I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was some sort of intelligence behind its actions. And yet, as the day wore on and the sun began to set, I still hadn't seen any sign of the wolves

that the crow had led me to the previous night. I began to wonder if the bird was simply playing with its food, enjoying the power it had over me. But the nagging suspicion remained in the back of my mind. Was there something more going on here? Was the crow truly just a bird? Or was it something else entirely? I knew I had to stay alert and be prepared for anything.

As the night fell, I realized I had nothing left to eat. The crow had taken all of my food, and I was left to face the wilderness with nothing. nothing but my wits. The silence around me was unnerving and I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was watching me. The absence of the crow only heightened my paranoia and I couldn't help but wonder what it was planning next. I tried to get some rest but my empty stomach kept me up. The night was quiet, too quiet. I couldn't hear any animals or insects and the absence of noise only added to my unease. I knew that the wilderness was full of dangers and

being alone and hungry made me vulnerable to attack. The longer I lay there in the darkness, the more my mind began to play tricks on me. I started to see shadows and hear strange noises, and I couldn't tell whether they were real or just my imagination. I had to fight to stay awake and alert, knowing that any lapse in my concentration could mean the end of me. Eventually I succumbed to my lethargy and closed my eyes. I woke up to find the crow perched on my chest, squawking loudly in my face. Startled, I instinctively grabbed it by its wings, causing it to struggle and squirm. I heard the unmistakable howl of wolves in the distance.

As I was about to deliver the fatal blow to the crow, my rage boiled over. I felt a primal urge to eliminate the source of my suffering and take control of my situation. The crow had been playing with me, leading me astray and stealing my food, and now it seemed as though it had led the wolves to me yet again. I couldn't let it continue. But my fury was short-lived as the sound of the wolves shattered my focus. I turned to face the source of the sound and saw three enormous beasts emerge from the darkness. Their size was intimidating and their glowing eyes seemed to reflect an inner ferocity that chilled me to the bone.

The wolf's fur was matted and their teeth were bared, ready to tear into their prey. As they closed in, I could see the muscles rippling beneath their fur, their movements almost fluid in their gait. I knew that I had no chance of fighting them off and that my only option was to run. With the wolves fast on my heels, I ran as fast as I could through the forest. Their growls and howls filled my ears, and I could feel their breath on my skin. The fear inside was overwhelming, and I could feel my legs giving out from the exhaustion. Whatever healing occurred to my abdomen had been torn open, and I was bleeding fast. Finally, I came to a cliff's edge and had no choice but to jump.

The wolf's snarls echoed through the air as I plummeted down and I landed with a sickening thud. My body was battered and bruised, and every movement sent waves of pain through me. Despite my injuries, I knew I had to keep moving. The wolves were still out there and I had to find a way to stay alive. I stumbled through the forest, my vision blurred with tears of pain and fear until I collapsed under a tree. As I lay under the tree, my mind raced with thoughts of survival. I knew that I had to stay mobile, but with my injuries and the constant threat of the crow, it seemed like an impossible task.

That's when I spotted it in the distance, a thin column of smoke rising into the air, indicating the presence of a cabin. My heart leapt with hope, but then I heard it. A loud squawk erupted through the forest as I locked eyes yet again with my adversary. The wolves howled in the distance, responding the crow's call. I couldn't trust the bird to leave me alone, not after everything, that had happened. I knew that I had to either eliminate the bird or outsmarted if I had any chance of reaching that cabin alive. But how does one outsmart a bird? I pondered this question for what

felt like ours until an idea finally came to me. I remembered the crow's fondness for shiny objects and quickly rummaged through my backpack, pulling out my pocket knife. As I continued to catch my breath, I realized that the crow had disappeared. I looked around cautiously, but there was no sign it. I wondered if it had given up the chase or if it was planning its next attack. That's when I heard a rustling in the bushes. My hand raised the pocket knife and I slowly approached the source of the noise. As I peered through the leaves, I saw the crow perched on a nearby branch, watching me intently. I took out my pocket knife and held it up to the crow, catching its attention with the glint of the blade. It swooped down towards me, but this time I was ready.

I lunged forward and caught it in mid-flight, holding it tightly in my hands. As I looked into the crow's eyes, I realized that we were both intelligent creatures trying to survive in this harsh world. I couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for this bird, even though it had caused me so much trouble. As I held the crow in my hands, feeling its warmth, and the fluttering of its wings, I couldn't help but be amazed by its intelligence and cunning. This bird had almost taken my life, and yet I found myself rest. respecting it for its tenacity and perseverance. I looked deep into its eyes, and for a moment it was as if we had formed a connection.

It was like the crow could sense my thoughts and emotions, and I could sense its own. I could feel its fear and its desire to live, and I could also sense its understanding of the world around it. As I held the bird, I thought about all the times it had outsmarted me how it had been one step ahead at every turn. It was a worthy adversary, and I couldn't help but praise it for its cunning. But even though I had formed this strange bond with the crow, I knew that I had to kill it. It was a matter of survival, and in this harsh world, sentimentality could get you oft.

So with a heavy heart, I raised my pocket knife and ended the crow's life. As I buried it under a pile of leaves, I set a silent prayer for its spirit. I knew that I had to do what I had to do to survive, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the loss of another living creature. Though with the crow gone, I felt a newfound sense of freedom. I made my way towards the cabin, my body aching and my mind weary, but with a renewed sense of purpose. I knew that I had survived this far, and that meant that I had the strength to face whatever lay ahead. My name is Henry Thompson, and I was a former detective from my police department. I've been a detective for about seven years, and throughout my time working at the agency,

I have many disturbing stories about the cases me and my partner solved. I've spent countless sleepless nights on these bizarre cases. I've cracked a lot of disturbing cases that the faint of heart could never solve. But I had my limits, or so I thought. My very first case almost made me quit the agency. Ever since I was young, I always knew I wanted to be a detective. Seeing all the TV shows of detective solving cases always inspired me in some way. My father was a former detective for our city's police department.

He was a well-respected detective, and he was even awarded key to the city by our mayor, but when there's good, there's always bad. With my father being a detective, he was hardly ever home, so I barely saw him. And even if he was home, he would be knocked out on the couch, with his detective papers scattered across the living room table. I could go on about the absence of my father, but the problems only got worse once I got into the academy. Since I joined the academy, I was always a mere shadow of my father.

No matter what I did, I could never become my own person. No matter how hard I tried, I was always a shadow of my father. A part of me actually resented him for it, even though it wasn't his fault. I worked so much during my time at the academy. I was never handed anything during my time at the academy. If anything, they always pushed me harder cause of my father and his legacy. I used the frustration I had built up inside of me as motivation. the lack of his presence, and seeing my mother basically raise me on her own, drove me to work harder.

I spent a couple of months training at the academy and was top of my class. I passed with flying colors and I eventually graduated from the academy. As one of few cadets with high marks, the ceremony had a lot more people than I expected it would. I stood up on the steps of the stage waiting for my name to be called up. I studied the crowd and my face slowly turned into a small frown. I couldn't see my parents. They wouldn't miss my big day, would they? My thoughts were interrupted by a stern voice,

snapping me back to reality. Cadet Henry Thompson of Class 10. A thunderous applause came from the crowd as I walked across the stage as I walked toward one of the captains behind the podium. He handed me my certificate and extended his hand for a handshake. I shook his hand and grabbed my certificate

and started walking off the stage. I heard a voice from the crowd that put a smile on my face before I headed off stage. That's my baby. I turned my head and saw my mother jumping up and down, almost falling out her chain with excitement. And right beside her was my father. After the ceremony, my mother basically rushed over to me

and hugged me tightly while congratulating me. Once my mother was finished with hugging the life out of me, my father grabbed me and pulled to the side. His face had a serious look to it as he looked me dead into my eyes. Henry, listen to me and listen carefully. I want you to know that the job isn't what you expect. It's not normal. Trust me.

His voice was low and he spoke with a tone I haven't heard him use since I was a child. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit taken aback by his words. What are you talking about pop? I sounded confused and a little disappointed as I thought he didn't believe in me. The atmosphere got a little heavy as he stood there without saying a single word. The silence lasted what seemed like an eternity before he placed his hand on my shoulder. Listen, son, I'll support your decisions you make in life. Whatever you choose to do, but heed my warnings.

This job isn't what you think it is, it will either make or break you. His tone was serious and his eyes were cold and expressionless. I felt my body run cold as he started walking away before I could respond to his statement. I cut the celebration short as I felt my body start to feel weird, the drive to my apartment was long and quiet. My thoughts were racing through my mind as I tried to process what my father had told me earlier. After some time, I got inside my apartment and took a shower before I started my search for an agency. I spent about a few hours searching on my laptop for agencies to work for, but I didn't fit their requirements. I was about to shut my laptop,

growing more and more tired as it was beginning to hit midnight. I reached for the power but for the laptop until a green pop-up ad flashed across my laptop screen. Application for RRA and big bold words. I stared at the pop-up ad for a couple more seconds before I tried to click the X. My heart dropped as my icon started moving on its own and clicked on the pop-up ad. I tried turning my computer off, but it didn't do any good as the pop-up ad took me to a website. A website with a couple of boxes loaded onto my screen with a man holding a badge. a badge. RRA, the badge read, some text popped up on my screen. A couple of seconds later

I inspected the website. Looking to be employed as a detective. Well, look no further. Here at RRA, we look for detectives far and wide to help us solve cases with no tests involved. All you have to do is sign up and come to the address after 24 hours and we'll do the rest. As I took a moment to process everything that has happened in the past few minutes, an application form slowly started to appear on my screen. Before I could do anything, my mouse started moving on its own again, and started filling out the application form. I tried again to press the power button, but nothing happened. After a while, the mouse stopped and submitted the application. An address appeared on my screen mere seconds later, 609 Night Eye Street. I said to myself, that was only 30 minutes.

away from my apartment. I might as well go there and check it out. If it's a fraud, I'll leave. Morning came quick, I woke up around six and turned on the news to see what the weather was going to be today. As I started brushing my teeth, I heard the sound of an emergency broadcast on the TV. The news reporter sat at his table with his papers and his hands. His facial expression shook me as his face had a look of pure terror on it. As I feared, another disappearance happened in the early morning. This has been the seventh disappearance. Sarah Carter has disappeared from her home. It seems like it was no sign of forced entry.

We will be back when we get more information from the police chief. His voice trembling as the broadcast turned to a commercial break. His face got the expression on his face stuck with me. What is happening? How could seven people go missing within such short timeframes of each other? As I got dressed, the sympathy of the families affected wouldn't leave my mind, no matter how hard I tried to not think about it. It took me around 30 or so minutes to get ready. I grabbed my coat and headed out of my apartment.

The drive to the agency wasn't long, as there was little to no traffic today. That was a blessing in itself. I got to the agency and parked my car in one of the parking spaces and started walking toward the entrance of the building. RRA said on the clear glass door. I pulled the door open and walked up toward the front desk and saw a woman with light red hair and black glasses on her freckle-filled face. She looked like she was in her mid to late 20s, definitely looked a little older than me. A hello there, I filled out the application form on your website, and I was hoping I could possibly get an interview. I said while trying to be professional, but I stumbled on my words a little.

She looked up from her computer as she looked at me, giving me a warm, welcoming smile. Jessica, my name is Jessica, and of course, right this way, follow me. She said while getting up from behind the desk she was sitting at and started walking toward an elevator. I followed behind her, eventually stepping into the elevator. We went up about four floors and she led me to an office door. I hope it goes well for you. She said while walking back, Henry, my name is Henry. And thank you, Jessica.

I said while giving her a little wave. She gave one back and she stepped back onto the elevator, leaving me up there by myself. I took a deep breath before I opened the office door. A man with a black top hat and a black and white polka dot suit sat behind the desk with a small smile on his pale face. There was also a slight burly man, with long blonde hair tied into a ponytail sitting across from the man in the top hat. Henry, my boy, have a seat. The man in the top hat said with excitement in his voice, reading me as if he was, reading me as if we knew each other for a long time. I took a seat next to the man in the long coat and placed my

hands onto the desk, giving the man in the long coat a quick glance before turning my attention back to the man with the top hat. Good morning, sir, I'm glad to be here today with you both. I extended my hand for a shake and waited for him to do the same. No need for that Henry, my boy. Just call me, Sidney, and you already got the job. His voice had so much enthusiasm as he grabbed my hand and gave it a firm shake. I was a little bit skeptical of how easy it was to achieve the job. My face must have caught his attention as he looked with a surprised expression. What's wrong, Henry, you don't want the job. He said, his voice had some disappointment behind it as he waited for my response. No, I stammered. It's not that, sir, it's just that I thought it was more to it,

that's all. I said while trying not to make myself sound stupid. Mr. Sidney let out a small chuckle before going into his desk drawer, pulling out a black vest and a small badge. The same badge that has the RRA initials on it, but this one was different. This one also had my name on it. Here you go, Henry, this is all you would ever need. Mr. Gordon Truman will be your partner from now on

if you ever need anything. Don't be afraid to ask him. Mr. Sidney said, while going through a file cabinet, and grabbing a somewhat thick file, and placing it onto the desk in front of us, This is your very first case, enjoy Henry, my boy. And Henry, be careful and listen to your partner at all times. His voice deepened almost sounding a little demonic.

His face quickly turned into the same friendly expression he showed back when I first entered the office. Mr. Truman got up from his seat and headed toward the door, waiting for me to follow him out. I follow behind him as he leads me to another office. Welcome to our office, Henry. Don't make yourself too comfortable. we're going to be heading out soon. Mr. Truman said while taking off his coat and sitting down at his desk while examining the case file. I sat down at my desk and watched as he examined the case files for a couple of minutes. He finally broke the silence as he motioned for me to sit down at his desk.

I promptly got up and walked toward his desk, taking a quick glance at the file myself. It was files on all the people that have went missing for the past few weeks. There was even a small file for the recent missing person, Sarah Carter. I'm aware that you've heard of the people that have went missing. He said while taking some of the files out of the folder and placing them in front of me, yes, Mr. Truman I've heard of the recent disappearances, and it's a shame honestly, their families must be devastated by it all.

I said while holding my head down in sympathy, it truly is a tragedy having a family member go missing. The longer we take here is the shorter to find these people, in one piece that is. Mr. Truman said while standing up, grabbing the files and a pair of car keys. Let's go, the clock is ticking and time is not on our side. He walked over toward the door and I followed behind. As we got out the building, a bright red Dodge charger sat there parked next to my somewhat beat-up Toyota.

My car would be the better option, and I have a little welcoming gift for you. He walked up to the trunk of his car and rummage through his trunk. He eventually walked up to me and handed me a Smith and Wesson Model 20, at True Beauty. I accepted the gift and inspected it as it was in perfect condition. As we got into the car, I decided to take a look over the case files again. Mr. Truman started to drive to a somewhat unfamiliar location to me. Where are we going?

I asked with a hint of worry in my voice. Going to the scene of the crime obviously, he said while gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, it seems like he was a veteran of such as he instantly got straight to the case without procrastinating. How long have you been working at the agency for? I asked trying to make small talk as we were driving a bit far. About 12 years, I've been thinking about hanging it up, though. I just want to take the wife to the beach and spend more time with the kids, you know.

He said while breaking contact with the road and gave me a look. Yay, I know. I know this job will have you away from your family. And 12 years. How many cases have you solved? I asked as I was surprised by his response. too many to count I've seen countless things people shouldn't know about. A truly disturbing thing. He said as his face was expressionless.

My curiosity got the better of me and I asked a question I shouldn't have asked. What was one of the worst cases you were a part of? I asked hoping to learn a little more about what kind of cases the agency gives to the detectives. A lady about mid-40s was complaining she saw eyes watching her from her backyard. cops didn't believe her so she called our agency, me and my former partner were. He paused in his speech, his face showed an expression of distraught. We were too late, we found her a red heap on our kitchen floor, being mauled by a bunch of small gray hellish creatures.

My heart was racing like crazy, but my partner had got them before I could even react to what was going on. He said while keeping his eyes on the road, my eyes widened at his story and felt a chill run down my spine. Hellish creatures. That couldn't be possible, could it? Monsters, there's no such thing. Are you sure that's what you had seen that day?

I managed to blur out. My voice is visibly shaken up by what I just heard. Mr. Truman gave a small smile before he spoke his next words. You might as well know what you've gotten into. This job isn't about solving human cases. It's about solving monster or other worldly creatures. His face lit up a bit as he looked over at me. My heart felt heavy like it weighed down the rest of my body.

I felt terror form on my face as I put the pieces together. I had felt the same feeling you're going through right now, not knowing what I had signed up for until I saw firsthand. He said while focusing on the road, my mind was racing all over the place. It couldn't be that, was this what my father was talking about. Before I could come up with any more accusations, the car finally came to a stop outside of a small blue house.

Caution tape was everywhere and even a few police officers were still lingering. We're here. If you want a chance to find the missing people alive, then you better pull yourself together and start acting like a detective. You get it. Mr. Truman said while grabbing the case file and getting out of the car, I was still in the car with my mind racing a million miles per hour, but he was right. If I wanted to help find the missing people, I'd have to pull myself together.

I got out of the car and followed behind Mr. Truman. A police officer who was guarding the front door of the small house moved aside when Mr. Truman flashed his badge at him. Once we got inside the home, Mr. Truman started walking around observing the crime scene. I headed back to the front door and started observing the locks, even though the report file says there was no forced entry. The culprit had to have gotten somehow. I inspected the door, but found nothing. No scratch marks, no broken locks. I made my way back to the living room.

Henry, I heard a voice call from the other side of the house. I rushed to where the voice came from. Once I got to the room I saw Mr. Truman on one knee inspecting something on the ground. A faint trail of red was emerged into the carpet, and it was leading toward the back door. Mr. Truman followed the trail to the back door where the faint trail ended. So she was taken out the back door. That's a start I guess. I said while trying to take a step forward, but Mr. Truman's hand stopped me.

Wait, he said while pulling out what looks like a flashlight from out of his coat pocket, he turned it on and started shining it around the back door. As he shined the light on the doorframe, I felt my heart drop all the way to my stomach and my knees got weak. Even Mr. Truman was shocked as his eyes widened a little. The doorframe and the nearby walls covered with red handprints and faint scratch marks. How could this be possible? why couldn't we see the scratch marks and red handprints without the flashlight?

I said while I felt my heart beating faster, Mr. Truman regained himself as he stood up and opened the back door before he let out a loud gasp. As I followed him out of the back door, a shiver ran down my spine as I braced myself against the doorframe, as my knees were about to give in. The backyard had crimson splattered all against the fence. A large chunk of the grass was dug up and dirt covered a part of the backyard. A chunk of the fence was destroyed and part of the fence was in the forest nearby. The atmosphere felt heavy.

I felt my mouth get dry and numb. I couldn't process what was going on. Mr. Truman inspected the backyard with the special flashlight and managed to find more scratch marks and hand prints. Henry, pull yourself together and come take a look at this. Mr. Truman said while standing in front of a half-broken part of the fence, I struggled to stand, but as I could stand I made my way. toward Mr. Truman, avoiding all the red stains on the ground.

Once I got over to him, he shined the flashlight, and what I saw made my heart drop all the way to my stomach. A massive handmark was on the fence. The claw print was just as big as the hand print. Mr. Truman put the flashlight back into his pocket, and pulled out a small note pad, and started writing down something. No more leads. This is all the evidence we've got so far.

He said while putting the note pad back into his coat pocket, I'm starting to have doubts that the missing people are still alive. I said while taking another look at the yard, I would be lying to you if I told you to keep faith. This is real life, Henry, there's no fairy tale endings to some stories. He said while turning back around and started walking back toward the house. He was right, there was no chance in hell that girl would have survived whatever had got to her.

There was too much crimson spilled, and by the looks of it, whatever it had happened. attacked Sarah was huge. I eventually followed behind Mr. Truman back into the house and lingered around for a little, making sure we didn't miss anything. All the police already left by this point, if you ask me I would rather not have let them seen what me and Mr. Truman saw. Those poor people, if they are still alive, they must be scared out of their minds. It's still unknown what exactly took them, but it's our job to find out what happened and to put an end to it. As we reviewed the evidence, Mr. Truman's phone started ringing. Once he answered, I slightly heard a voice on the other end. I watched as Mr. Truman's face went from normal to his eyes widening and shocked. Before I could

ask, he grabbed me and started rushing toward his car. He basically jumped in the car as I got in as well. He jammed his keys into the ignition and pulled off with such force I almost had hit my head on the dashboard. What's going on? I asked while trying not to sound too shaken up, but by the way he was acting it made me terrified. As he started speeding down the almost empty road, he quickly turned to me with a shaken look on his face. A man called the agency. He said there's banging and loud growling at his back door. It has to be our culprit. He said while turning his attention back to the road. I felt my body sink in as his words hit my body like a truck. I felt the sweat run down my forehead. I didn't want to face whatever was taking

people, but I knew if we didn't, it would keep happening. After some time, we pulled up to a mailbox, and a little farther in the forest you can see a house in the distance. Mr. Truman quickly got out of the car and ran toward the trunk and started rummaging around. Henry, hurry up and get down there and make sure the man inside the house is all right. We can't afford to let this man pass. He said still rummaging around. My heart felt weak, but it was no time to chicken out. I pulled the smith and wesson from my hip and started running to the house. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared. I made it to the house and started knocking on the door. Hello sir, I'm an agent from RRA. My partner and I were sent to make sure you were safe. I said while leaning against the front door,

I heard low-pitched growls and screaming from inside the house and felt my heart stopped beating. I quickly snapped out of it and started kicking the door. After the fourth kick, the door fell and what I saw scared me to my core. A grayish humanoid creature stood about eight feet tall. Its claws were sharp and big. Its face was split by its sharp teeth running down its face. Its legs were long and twisted. Its tail was long and had marks running down it. It looked over toward me but kept walking at the man who was huddled in the corner, shaking with fear. My arms felt weak as I tried to raise my weapon up, but my arms didn't budge. I stood frozen with fear. The creature was about a couple of feet away from the man. The man's screams brought me back. I raised my

Smith and Wesson and pulled the trigger. As I shot my weapon, the creature let out a loud curdling scream as it spun around and locked eyes with me. Oh God, its eyes. They were completely red with hatred for me causing it pain. Before it could do anything, I pulled the trigger two more times. Sending the creature into a screaming frenzy, I tried firing at the creature again, but my weapon jammed. It got back up and started running toward me, knocking me into the wall. It felt like I was hit by a freight train.

My ribs felt like they were hit with a metal rod, as it was harder for me to breathe. The creature managed to slash me with its claw across my back, ripping my coat as I tried rolling out of the way. Its claw was sharp, and I felt something warm run down my back. The creature slowly started moving toward me.

I started crawling away frantically trying to find my weapon without breaking eye contact with the creature. It knew it had me where it wanted. It was toying with me. As it was about to pounce, a loud boom came from behind the creature. Making the creature run past me

and through the back door screaming in pain. It was Mr. Truman and he had a 12-gauge shotgun in his hands as he ran out of the back door and chase of the creature. Are you okay, young man? The man said while leaving from the corner he was hiding in, go to our car and wait for us there, sir. It's not safe while that thing is. still alive. I said while holding my side, I attempted to get up but fell back down clenching my

ribs. The man walked over toward me and helped me up to my feet. He handed me my weapon. I made my way through the back door and quickly looked from Mr. Truman. I heard multiple shots and a loud yell not too far away from the house. I started running in the direction where the noise came from. The pain in my ribs was slowing me down, but I kept running. I heard another yell and saw the creature on top of Mr. Truman slashing at him with its long razor-sharp claws. I took aim and once again pulled the trigger. The creature turned its attention from Mr. Truman onto me as once again the creature's eyes locked onto me. It started charging at me and I started squeezing the trigger until I heard clicking. But the creature was still standing. It was like it was unfazed by my bullets.

The creature was about 10 feet away from me. I tried to reload my weapon and I managed to drop some of the bullets onto the ground. I felt true fear as the creature was only a couple feet from me. My body shook with fear. When I raised my weapon up, it was already in the air, and pounced on me. I felt its weight on my body, almost crushing me. It tried to bite me with its sharp teeth, but I managed to grab a stick. I held the stick to give some space between us. Its breath was rancid. I used all my strength keeping it away from me, but it slowly started overpowering me. My ribs went completely numb as I couldn't feel them. Is this how I go?

To a creature on my first case. What would my mother do if she had to bury me? My heart was pounding as I started losing my strength. It was going to eliminate me. An ear-deafening noise rang out from behind me as I felt the creature go limp and fall to the side. I managed to look up and saw an injured Mr. Truman with the 12-gauge shotgun in his left arm.

His face had a long gash in it, and he took a step closer to me and extended his hand out to. Are you all right, Henry? He asked while dropping his weapon on the ground. I held my side with my left arm and accepted his help. I think I broke my ribs, but I think I'll live. I said while wiping the crimson from my face, I took a look at the creature as it laid there in the grass.

What do we do with it? I asked while looking at Mr. Truman waiting for his response. We don't do anything with it. The police will get rid of it for us. He said while walking back to the car. We managed to get back to the agency, Mr. Truman said he would finish the summary part of the case and turn it into Mr. Sidney for me. I checked myself into the hospital for my injuries.

I later found out I broke four of my ribs. I was able to leave the hospital a couple of hours later. I decided to go home and rest. Once I got home, it was clear that the missing people were no longer here with us. They were never found. It still disturbs me. even all these years later looking back at my time as an agent for RRA. Nightmares plagued my mind since I first joined the agency.

All I could dream about was the monsters I encountered, they still frightened me to this very day. Even after all these years later, I've been living in this house for about ten years now, and I've always felt like I was being watched. I've never seen anything, but I can just feel it. It's like there's someone out there in the woods, just waiting for me to make a mistake.

It started a few months ago. I was walking home from work late one night, and I saw a figure standing in the shadows of the trees. I couldn't make out any details, but I could tell it was a man. He just stood there, watching me as I walked by. I tried to forget about it, but I couldn't. I started having nightmares about the man in the woods. In my dreams, he would chase me through the trees,

his face hidden in the shadows. I would always wake up before he caught me, but I could still feel his breath. on my neck. I started to avoid going outside at night. I would stay inside and watch TV or read a book, anything to keep my mind off of the man in the woods. But I knew he was still out there, waiting for me. One night, I couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning in bed, trying to get settled. I finally gave up and got out of bed. I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As I was standing in the kitchen, I heard a noise outside. I went to the window and looked out.

I couldn't see anything, but I could hear the sound of someone moving through the trees. I froze. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to call the police, but I was afraid that if I made a sound, the man would hear me. I stood there for a few minutes, just listening. The sound of movement in the trees stopped. I waited a few more minutes, and then I went back to bed. I didn't sleep well that night.

I kept thinking about the man in the woods. I was afraid that he was after me. The next day I went to the police. I told him about the man in the woods, but they didn't believe me. They said that there was no one in the woods and that I was just imagining things. I know what I saw and I know what I heard. I'm not crazy. The man in the woods is real and he's out there waiting for me.

I don't know what to do. I'm afraid to go outside and I'm afraid to stay inside. I'm afraid for my life. I decided to set a trap for the man in the woods. I went to the hardware store and bought a motion sensor light and a camera. I set up the light and camera in the woods behind my house. That night I waited. I sat in my living room, watching TV and waiting for the motion sensor light to go off.

About an hour after I went to bed, the motion sensor light went off. I jumped up and ran to the window. I looked out and I saw the man in the woods. He was standing in the light looking at my house. I took a picture of the man with my phone. I then called the police and told them what I had seen. The police came and took the picture. They said that they would investigate,

but I haven't heard anything from them since. I'm still afraid. I don't know if the man in the woods is still out there, but I'm not taking any chances. I've bought a weapon, and I'm not afraid to use it. I'm just trying to live my life, but I know that the man in the woods is out there somewhere, and I know that he's watching me.

It was two weeks ago Tom and I went up Tim's Hill and the memories still got me more messed up than a Central Park squirrel. I got into wild camping when I was a kid. I'm in my mid-30s now and my passion for the outdoors has not diminished in the slightest. Neither has my friend Tom's, whom I've known since childhood. We've spent many summers exploring the vast wilderness of Wisconsin together. Tom had taken a break for a few years, but since he was back in town after trying and failing to set up roots in New York, York was itching to get out to the mountains. It's not the most dangerous hobby for sure, but it comes with risks. Enough to make it always feel like an adventure, you know. We'd encountered

our fair share of bears, bobcats, and even a cougar. Both me and Tom had broke bones falling. We'd even done a couple of minimal provision roughing at trips. Point being, when I say there was nothing we could have done differently, that would mean Tom is still alive. You can also sure as hell believe me when I tell you camping, it turns out, is one of the most terrifying ways to spend a weekend, and it can mess you up like nothing else. Honestly, if you've ever been considering taking it up, don't. After what happened two weeks ago, I can say with certainty that you're safer dabbling in recreational addiction. On this particular occasion, we had set our sights on conquering Tim's Hill, a mountain that towered over the surrounding landscape, its peak shrouded in an

ethereal mist. The weather that weekend was supposed to be great though. Prisp and clear, perfect weekend to take some tents deep into the Wisconsin wilderness and help Tom forget about Felicia. The trail up the mountain was treacherous, with steep inclines and rocky terrain that tested our endurance and resolve. But we were determined to reach the summit and bask in the glory of our achievement. As evening approached, we set up camp on a small plateau overlooking the valley below. The moon was full, casting a solid. glow over the surrounding forest and illuminating the rugged terrain. The air was still and cool, and the silence of the wilderness was broken only by the

crackling of the campfire and the occasional hoot of an owl. As we sat by the campfire, enjoying some snacks, we reminisced about old times and planned for future adventures now that Tom was no longer tied down. We had just finished dinner, soaking in the beauty of the night sky. The stars twinkled like diamonds, and the moon was so bright that we could let the fire dwindle to embers and could still see enough to take a leak in a bush without getting any on our boots. This was a good night, you know. Glad we got one last one together before it got bad. Anyway, as I said earlier, weather forecast for the weekend had been good. We'd have been back at my place

playing zombies on the same Xbox 360 we'd sunk hours into in middle school if it hadn't been set to be a clear one. We enjoy the outdoors, but we're not crazy. We were all set in expecting clear views and the welcoming crisp weather that makes you feel lucky to live in Wisconsin. But as the night deepened, a thick fog began to roll in, obscuring the moon and shrouding the campsite in an eerie mist. The trees loomed like dark sentinels in the mist, their branches creaking and rustling in the wind. The fire flickered and danced, casting strange shadows on the ground. With each moment their past the fog grew denser, thicker, until it became almost oppressive, clinging to our skin and clothes like a damp, cold blanket. It was as if the mist had a

presence beyond the physical, a malevolent force that seeped into our bones and made us shiver from more than the wet chill of it. The smell was the worst part. It was a horrid, rotten stench that hung heavy in the air, making us gag with every breath. It was as if something had passed and was decomposing just out of sight, emitting its putrid odor into the night. The mist itself was a sickly gray color like the color of decay. It swirled an edded, creating strange, ghostly shapes and shadows that seemed to move independently of the mist itself. It was as if the fog was alive, a sentient entity that was watching us with malevolent intent. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I realized that there was something deeply unsettling about this mist.

I couldn't shake the feeling that we were not alone in the wilderness, that night, and that whatever was out there was not friendly. I voiced my concerns to Tom, when we heard it. A rustling in the bushes nearby caught our attention. We both froze, unsure of what to expect. Was it a wild animal? We're just a harmless critter. We cautiously peered into the darkness, but couldn't see anything. We shrugged it off, assuming it was just the wind or a small animal scurrying about. Probably wasn't scurrying, though, thinking about it. It was probably running for its life. Funny how hindsight changes your perspective. The smell didn't leave, and neither did the paranoia.

Definitely enough to make us call it there, and pick up the good times again tomorrow, though. Vibe was totally gone. As we prepared to turn in for the night, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over me. The mist had somehow grown even thicker, and visibility had all but gone. Time passing made the unshakable edginess worse, not better, too.

We crawled into our tents, zipping them uptight to keep out the damp chill of the fog. Lying there in the darkness, I listened to the sounds of the night. The wind howled through the trees, and the branches creaked and groaned as if in protest. We'd camp these mountains dozens of times. I didn't get spooked by nature. My own fear was making me fearful for no reason other than it being so alien.

It was that damn mist. I couldn't get it out of my head or nostrils. It's like it in the smell that hung on it like something rancid in the sun for a week seemed to seep into the tent, muffling all sound and suffocating me in its clammy embrace. Despite my unease, I eventually drifted off to sleep, my dreams filled with strange and unsettling images that, thank God, were gone from my memory the moment my eyes opened. The troubled rest was short-lived too, as a sudden noise jolted me awake. I sat up, heart-pounding, and peered through the foggy tent flap into the darkness.

And that's when I saw it. It took me a few seconds to realize my heart. eyes had even honed in on a form, but once it dawned on me they had, I couldn't ignore it. There was something out there, miles away, a shape carved against the jagged mountain peaks that shouldn't be stood amongst them. Something was moving in the mist, a dark shape that seemed to be coming toward Tim's Hill. Something as vast as it was distant, a nondescript shadow barely distinguishable within and against the thick fog and broiling midnight clouds. I couldn't make out what it was, and I even thought at the time that it was probably just a true.

trick of the absent light, but the fear that gripped me was all too real. And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the shape vanished into the mist. It left something in its wake, though. Soft rumbling bass tone in the ear, a steady thumping almost like the slow heartbeat of some deep sea leviathan. I frantically shook Tom awake, whispering urgently to him to be quiet and listen. We sat there in the darkness, holding our breath and straining to hear any sound. But there was nothing, only the rustling of the wind, and the creaking of the trees. We sat for what felt like an eternity, waiting for another sound, but there was none. Eventually, we felt sheepish and started laughing nervously, trying to convince ourselves that it was just our imaginations playing tricks on

us. We settled back down into our sleeping bags, ready to drift off again. But just as we were about to succumb to sleep, there was a loud boom that shook the earth beneath us. And then another, as if some prehistoric monstrosity had clawed its way out of the annals of ultra antiquity to stalk the landscape once more. We leapt out of our tents, the fear that had gripped us earlier returning with a vengeance. A mist had grown so thick it felt like it was basically a liquid

while we slept, and we emerged from the tent to find we could barely see a few inches in front of us. We stumbled around, trying to swivel our ears to the source of the noise and impending danger. But there was nothing, only the crushing dread and stench of the fog. I was about to yell to Tom that we needed to run when, as soon as it had started, the booming stopped. For a few eye of the storm moments there was silence and stillness, but then Tom let out a half-panicked, half-excited yell. He said he saw something in the far

distance, a light that flickered and danced in the darkness. I asked him what the heck he was talking about, and he started babbling about, and I kid you not, a UFO. Sky lanterns, he said, a pair of them, bobbing around nothing like a plane or chopper wood, but it was too far away to be sure. Without warning, he ran off into the fog, leaving me alone in the darkness. I stood there, paralyzed with by the unhealthy injection of unfamiliarity into our trip, unsure of what to do. The silhouette that we had seen earlier loomed large in my mind, and Tom's talk of UFOs after a succession of artillery like booms didn't help assuage the fixation at all. Did I want to run? To grab my flash,

and head down Tim's hill as fast as my legs could carry me. You're damn right I did. That's all I wanted to do. But, unfortunately, I'm not a jerk. I couldn't leave Tom alone in the fog, so I set off after him, stumbling blindly through the mist. My heart was pounding in my chest,

and my breath came in short, ragged gasps. I called out to him, but there was no response. And then I heard the sound of running water, a rushing stream that cut through the darkness. I followed the sound, my feet slipping on the wet stones beneath me, and then through the mist I saw it. A vast silhouette looming in the darkness, cut into focus only briefly by a lightning flash of the sky lanterns Tom had followed.

The shape of it indistinct, menacing, and most harrowing of all, impossible to deny the existence of. It towered over me, seeming to stretch up into the very heavens, the peak of it obscured by the twin flares just emerged from above the cloud canopy to illuminate it. Before I could whip the beam of my flashlight around to console myself with lies about my mind playing tricks on me though, it vanished into the mist, leaving me once again alone. I stood there, trembling with fear, unsure of what to do.

And then I heard Tom's voice, calling out to me from somewhere in the distance. I stumbled through the mist toward him, my heart pounding in my chest. When I finally found him, he was standing on the edge of a cliff, peering out into the darkness. He said he had caught a glimpse of something in the distance, a light that flickered and danced in the fog. Or that's how he described it, at least. But when he ran toward it, it vanished into the mist. I didn't have to think long to put two and two together. I didn't know what was going on, but this thing Tom was so desperate to find I was equally invested in getting away from. I tried in vain to convince him that no good could come of those skylights,

to explain what I'd witnessed before I'd found him, to get rid of any of the same. I'd tried rid of any wild panicked ideas about UFOs, but it was no use. We stood there arguing for what felt like ours, all the while waiting for something, anything, to happen. There were no more quaking booms, no more sky lanterns descending from the clouds. The mist swirled around us, and the darkness seemed to press in on us from all sides. The weirdness of Tim's Hill have lulled, and I'd just about managed to convince Tom to head back to the tent. I'd even managed to half convince myself I'd imagine the skyscraper-sized figure in the fog, that it had indeed been the product of some kind of hallucination. Then it stood up. It towered over us, the cliff edge barely at waste height,

the treetops of the evergreens below just about scraping its knees. Before it had been far enough away that I only caught a fleeting glimpse of its outline. This close, the beams of our flashlights could unmask its form in all its abyssal glory. I knew instantly we were in the presence of true horror, no mortal had the psychological resilience to truly comprehend. A creature that defied all logic and reason, a huge thing wearing the form of a blackened human skeleton, almost as if it existed to blasphemously mock the concept of life. Its skeletal frame easily stood hundreds of feet tall, towering over everything in its path. Its tree trunk thick bones were gnarled and twisted, as if they had grown warped from years of neglect. Each was covered in a thick layer of dark,

oily grime, as if it had been coated in the filth of the most degradation-ridden metropolis and human history. But it was the monster's eyes that robbed me of all hope in an instant, despite its eyes and the nightmarish nature of its impossible frame. Its eyes, the sky-lantern UFOs Tom had been chasing, glowed with an otherworldly light, casting in herey, sickly haze on everything around us as it bent its skull down toward the cliff edge. The brightness that emanated from them was not the warm, comforting light of the sun, but a cold, sterile shimmer that seemed to drain some of the vibrancy, and for lack of a better term, the reality from all it touched. The creature was draped in what appeared to be a cloak at first, but as it lowered itself to us and got closer I realized that it wasn't clothing.

This abomination wore a perpetually cascading waterfall of murky, pungent water, a perpetual torrent of what I can only describe as sewer drainage filled with debris, garbage, and human waste of all kinds. The river of filth evaporated to steam at the skeletal giant's black-bone feet, billowing out into the world as a cloud of gaseous haze of rot and misery. The putrid stench that emanated from it was overwhelming, filling our nostrils and making us gag. It was as if the fog had been amplified a thousandfold, and I'm genuinely amazed neither Tom or I choked. It was as if this being was a walking, breathing landfill, a monument to the waste and excessive humanity. As the monster crouched, the movement of its mammoth bony thighs alone was enough to leave

destruction in its wake. The ground beneath its feet turned black and withered, as if all the life had been taken out of it. Trees and plants wilted and dyed, their leaves turning brown and crumbling to dust. It was as if the monster's very presence was toxic to the environment, a harbinger of decay. A necrotic. rotting giant let out a deafening roar that shook the very ground beneath us, and we could smell its putrid breath from where we stood. And then, the monster did something that still makes me shudder to this day. It began to vomit. Oh God, the vomit. The black, slimy substance that the monster spewed forth was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It was thick and viscous,

like tar, and it seemed to melt everything in its path. The smell of it was overpowering, like a mixture of rotting flesh, medical waste, and burning garbage. The ground beneath it sizzled and steamed, and the trees and plants where it landed withered and died. To my horror and disgust, any organic matter of the forest caught in the Titans' unholy bile, devolved into a puddle of stagnant, steaming waste. And so did Tom. Had I been standing about five foot to the right,

none of you would be reading like this. I wasn't standing five foot to the right, though, so when the colossal paragon of filth lowered its teeth, Titanic skull, and opened its coalish jaw. I walked away on skates saved for a minor yet still painful bit of acidic backslash. Tom didn't. He was directly underneath the upended geyser of noxious flum that exploded from between the beings charred cracked teeth. I'm glad it all happened too fast for me to process it all. If I'd have been aware I might have tried to do something stupid like tackle Tom to get him out of the way. The fact all I could do was watch with my lip

trembling is one of the few reasons I'm still alive. As I watched my friend being consumed by the monster's vomit, I felt a mixture of horror and revulsion that I could never have fathomed was possible. My cowardice and lack of action in the face of the sheer evil we'd encountered gave it a cruel introspective aspect, too. It's an emotion I'm sure was caused by the towering postulant skeleton's presence, as much by its actions, too. It was a primordial disgust, one stored in the deepest bowels of our DNA to be pulled to the four only when the things that terrorized our most ancient ancestors returned. I couldn't bring myself to approach Tom during the few seconds I lingered at the cliff edge after the waterfall of septic acid ceased. The black, slimy substance was getting him.

His skin turned an ash and gray, and it began to crumple and folded on itself like molten tarmac. I could hear his screams of agony, but they were soon drowned out. It was a sickening sound, like the cracking of wood in a fire, and it made my stomach turn. A response worsened by the grisly sights that came with the cacophony of suffering. The worst part was that enough of his face remained to make his eyes widening and shock clear to see, and the knowledge he was aware of everything that happened right up until the end will scar me for life. After what was left of Tom was gone, I felt a wave of nausea wash over me, and I knew that I was going to be sick.

I turned away from the sight, but the retching continued. It was a violent and uncontrollable reaction, one that was born out of the sheer horror of what I was witnessing. I could feel my muscles contracting and spasming, and then it came. The vomit that I spewed forth wasn't a noxious tide of lethal mucus. It was a thick, chunky mess, a mixture of the dinner that we had eaten earlier, and the bile that had been building up in my stomach. It was a disgusting sight, and it only served to make the horror of the situation even more real. Thankfully, I managed to remember why I'd just seen Tom literally freaking melt in front of me, just in time to throw myself sideways, and avoid meeting the same fate myself.

The sound of the thing from the fog roaring made my heart skip at least three beats, but the rest of my body didn't care. I ran so hard. I didn't know where to go beyond that. My destination was as far from that Tim's Hill as I could possibly freaking make it. Thing is, I wasn't the only one running. As soon as I could hear the thunderous footsteps behind me, I knew that I was not going to make it out alive. The shaking of the ground dam near catapulted me over a ledge or down a hill more than once,

during the five or so minutes I actually managed to keep going. It's honestly a miracle I didn't get injured. Every time I stumbled and fell, I'd look over my shoulder to the clouds above the mist, and always I saw the monsters glowing eyes staring down at me. The final time they were right above me, so close I could make out their elder, rich glimmer, casting an obnoxious sheen across the gargantuan skull. I distinctly remember thinking this is it, this is the end. The mortician stench reeking in the mist intensified as the mucus began to bubble and pull between jaws lowering themselves beneath the line of the tree canopy.

I closed my eyes, my face suddenly numb and my limbs inexplicably far away from my senses. Then everything went black. I was passed out for three days. Sheriff Harwurst was at the foot of my hospital bed when I awoke and immediately had questions, most of them around where Tom was. I gave him my answers, and to my amazement, he didn't call me a lunatic. He just sighed, scribbled something in his notebook, and left. I was still pretty out of it even by the time he'd gone. It was until a few hours later that the horror of everything that happened hit me like a claw hammer right in my will to go on. When I finally regain my senses fully, my mind was a jumbled mess of fragmented memories. Not what happened with me and Tom on Tim's Hill, you understand,

that was unfortunately crystal clear. The bits I still can't piece together despite really needing to are how I got from there to that damn hospital. Here's the thing, I agree with you reading this right now. I should be gone, so what in the Deos X Machina is going on? That's what this is all about, why I am determined to follow this through and not just swallow up the lie. The first thing I recall was the sound of gunfire ringing in my ears, followed by the deafening roar of the monster. Then there was a massive explosion that shook the ground beneath me. I remember feeling a rush of hot air and debris hitting my face before everything went silent. The next thing I remember is the sound of helicopter blades chopping through the air and then the sensation of being lifted off the ground.

I must have been airlifted to a hospital because the next thing I saw was a thin-faced man with a really unnerving aura, looking down at me with a disapproving expression. He was muttering something to Sheriff Harwurst, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. My head was pounding with pain, and I was struggling to stay conscious. Despite the concussion, I knew that something terrible had happened. The monster had been real, and it had nearly taken me. But what had happened to it, had the gunfire and explosion eliminated it, or had it escaped, who had even shown up to stop it? No way did the police have the minds of munitions you'd need to take down something like that. Whatever the hell that thing was.

I must have sent something, heard something that could put the pieces together. It had something to do with the thin-faced man and sheriff Harwurst, but who was he? I couldn't remember and the uncertainty only made me feel more frightened, and alone. It was a relief when the doctors finally gave me something to ease my pain, and helped me slip back into unconsciousness. That was two weeks ago. Tom's disappearance as being treated, I found out through an old friend

in the Marathon County Sheriff's Office as a natural accident, with the rationale being Tom and I were caught in a freak avalanche. What I saw had been explained away as a concussion-induced dream. Avalanches and concussions don't cause acid burns, though, do they?

So why do I have a splatter pattern of them across my right cheek and arm? To this day, I don't know what that monster was, or where it came from, or why it didn't let me suffer the same fate as Tom, but I know one thing for sure. Something weird is going on in Marathon County and the police, or at the very least Sheriff Harwurst are covering it up. The memory of that night still haunts me,

and I can only hope that no one else ever has to witness the terror that I did on Tim's Hill. Me though, I need answers, even if it means coming face to face with that thing again. I'm writing this as a kind of fail-safe, I guess. I'm going to go poking around, starting with Harwurst's house. My friends reading this, you know who you are, have been told what to do if I disappear after today. Sorry I couldn't tell you why you needed my social passwords, etc., but would you have believed me before? As for why I'm making it public, it's because I didn't want to put the burden of sharing this on someone else. This could run deep, there could be consequences for posting, or even talking about it.

I was the one up there with Tom. All those risks should be on me. Someone had to blow the whistle through. Something evil is lurking in Marathon County, and people need to stay the hell away from Tim's Hill. How many discounts does USAA auto insurance offer? Too many to say here. Multi-vehicle discount. Safe driver discount?

New vehicle discount. Storage discount. Legacy-discounts will you stack up. Tap the banner or visit usaa.com slash auto discounts. Restrictions apply. Choice hotels get you more of what you value. Here's a little tune to help you remember. Same drive, different day.

Don't you wish you were getting away? Pack your bags and come on through. Texas, Ohio, Alaska, we're up there too. Comfort Inn. It's calling your name. Save on the stay. Oh, and free waffles are yours to claim. Well, I hope you like my little song.

Book Direct at sourcehiltails.com. It was a typical weekend night, and I had had just settled into my cozy apartment, ready to binge watch my favorite show on Netflix. My roommate had gone out for the weekend, leaving me alone, but I didn't mind, I enjoyed the solitude. The apartment was located in a peaceful neighborhood, and I had never felt unsafe before. As the night dragged on and the show played on my laptop, I noticed a strange noise outside. At first, I attributed it to lousy insulation, or maybe the wind, but it persisted. Curiosity eventually got the best of me, and I tiptoed to the window,

gently pulling the curtains aside to peek out. I wasn't expecting to see anything, but there it was, the bright glow of a flashlight shining into my window, hovering like a menacing eye. The heart raced in my chest, and my hands started to shake uncontrollably. For a moment, my brain couldn't wrap around what was happening. I didn't have any enemies or people angry with me or my mind. my roommate. Why would someone be peeping inside our apartment at 11 p.m.? Quickly, my instincts kicked. I quickly moved away from the window to prevent the person from discovering I noticed them.

Taking deep breaths, I tried to halt my panicky thoughts as adrenaline coursed through my veins. Who could be doing this? Was it someone I knew? As I tried to recall if I had gotten any threat or passed through someone who I hadn't been quite friendly with, the torch outside grew stranger. The person didn't move, but the sound of footsteps, pacing slowly, echoed outside of my window. Now that someone was stalking me freaked me out even more, I pulled myself together, grasping for my phone to dial 911. As I fumbled from my phone, my mind went on overdrive with worst-case scenarios. What would happen if the stalker finds a way into the apartment? Should I open my door and bolt to the next-door neighbor's house, exposing myself to more danger?

My painful thoughts were interrupted when the person outside spotted my movements, and the light was immediately turned off. Fear clenched my muscles and made it impossible to speak. I stood frozen for a moment, hoping that whoever was outside had left. But then I heard a slow, tapping sound, like someone was testing the locks of my apartment's front door. My body began to shake with fear, and my mind raced with different options that would keep me relatively safe. Without much of a second thought any longer, I gathered all the courage left in me, wrapped a blanket closely around my body, grabbed my phone, and sneaked out the balcony into the chilly night. From my vantage point, I could see the shadow of a person lingering outside the front door, slowly removing something from their pocket, and flexing what looked like a metallic object

in their hand. I knew that my only route of escape was to climb down the fire escape, and that was what I did at lightning speed. My heart racing, I stumbled. and fell but kept pushing, barely feeling the freezing cold concrete floors as I made my way down. Just as I finally got closer to the ground floor, I noticed the dimly lit backstreet alley filled with crates, trash cans, and odd scarps that can hide any danger waiting for me. Finally, when my feet hit the unremarkable path, I sprinted with pumps to the patrol police station nearby, explaining every bit of experience out of breath to the policeman, who kindly reassured me and dispatched some officers,

back to my haunted apartment. After what looked like forever, the policeman came out with news that the crazed individual had fled. They didn't quite believe that my home was targeted as another apartment down the floor had been robbed the evening before.

I tried to press for the matter anyway, but it occurred to me that as scared as I was, I would never know whether it was a mistake that my grounds were picked, or it was an intentional act. For days, I slept remaining vigilant, setting a bigger bolt to prevent any unauthorized access, But the thought of an unknown, terrifying stalker out there was still holding true in my mind.

Every creaking floorboard and outside noises made me jump, always leaving my over-worryed mind in an anxious state. A few weeks ago the most terrifying experience of my life occurred. It honestly feels like a blur, and I'll try and recall as much detail as possible, but I may have to update as other parts come back to me. My girlfriend and I live in a mid-sized city in Pennsylvania. Every few weeks, during the warm months at least, we like to plan a little getaway into the country to do outdoorsy stuff. Since we moved to this area a few years ago, we've gotten very into skiing, rock climbing, hiking, camping, and just sitting around a fire in nature. We've gotten very good at scouring the internet for obscure, rustic places to visit.

A few weeks ago, we were itching to get out of town on a Wednesday. With only a few days coming up until the weekend, we knew our options might be limited. due to the last-minute nature of our planning. Most of the Airbnbs we usually stay or booked up. My girlfriend works in the city government and near her office is a set of community bulletin boards that people post upcoming events, things for sale, etc. So that Thursday she comes home with a number to call for a cabin

about an hour away that was for rent this weekend for a far more reasonable price than we usually pay. We call the number, a middle-aged sounding man named Peter answers, and says we're all set to stay the same. the night out in the cabin the next day. We're ecstatic at this time over our abilities to find cool little vacation spots. Next day we both duck out of work a bit early and hit the road around three and get to the place a little after four. Peter owns a very large property that's about 25 acres of mostly forested land. When you pull up to it, his house is fairly

close to the road and you park in his driveway. Peter came out to meet us. He's older than I expected, a bit gruff looking but friendly. For a while we stand in the driveway and make small talk and he tells us about how he's owned the property since the mid-1970s. The cabin is a ways back on a foot trail behind his house. Peter said his nearest neighbor is about two miles down the road so we shouldn't be seeing or hearing anyone else while we're out there, but that bears and dear do wander in the woods, so don't be too shocked if we hear rustling in the night. My girlfriend and I have stayed in enough shacks or tents at this point to not be scared of nighttime noises. So we're just about ready to head off when the first sign of anything unusual hits us.

Peter hands us a Seguiger counter, a little device that reads radioactivity levels. At first, I don't know what I'm looking at and think he's just handing me an extra flashlight. I've only ever seen one of these things in movies. Peter explains that he built the cabin a few years after buying the land, and for the first few years used it as a hunting cabin. He started renting out in the mid-80s and over the years has rented to literally hundreds of people, most of whom never report any problems and give only positive reviews.

But apparently in the 80s, Peter at one point rented the place to a couple that was very paranoid about radiation poisoning because we're not too far away from where the Three Mile Island incident occurred. Peter said the property was well outside the areas that were evacuated at the time, but this couple who took a Geiger counter everywhere claimed that they'd heard theirs going off in the night, but that it stopped by the time morning came. Peter said after that he'd bought his own Geiger counter, and started giving it to the people who rent the cabin just for theirs and his peace of mind.

He said once in a while, not often, but every couple of years or so, some people would report the Geiger counter making noise at night. For those who don't know, when Geiger counters detect radiation, they make this awful sort of clicking, buzzing sound that intensifies as the levels get higher. So we're a bit weirded out by this, but if anything, we're comforted by Peter's honesty, and so we just thank him and set off down the trail.

It's not a far walk, and we arrive at the cabin about 20 minutes later. That might not sound like a great distance, but it's far enough that you're surrounded on all sides, but nothing but forest. The cabin is only one room, wooden, and has a porch on the front with a swinging chair, Inside there's just two double beds, a wood stove and some counters. There's no running water or electricity, so the outhouse is the only bathroom.

For the next few hours we have a great time. We have a little fire, cook a bit of food, tell campfire stories, and then decide to get ready for bed around 9 p.m. When it's getting really dark. My girlfriend and I are sharing one of the double beds and the Geiger counter, which I had sort of forgotten about, is sitting against the wall that leads to the porch at the front of the cabin. It was a very quiet night, and other than the quiet sound of rustling leaves outside, you could hear a pin drop in that cabin. I'm never a great sleeper on these trips,

so I was sort of in and out of consciousness for quite a while, just listening to the leaves outside when suddenly I hear one of those horrible clicks that the machine makes. Instantly my eyes are wide open in the pitch black and my muscles are tense. For a moment, I think I might have to be. have imagined it since it was just a single click, but then there's another, and another, periodically getting louder and more frequent. My girlfriend is a much better sleeper than I am, so she hasn't heard it at this point, but by now the guy Gher counter has a consistent click

going, and I'm honestly terrified. I don't want to cause us both to panic, so I slowly nudge my girlfriend awake and the guy Gher counter is loud enough that she instantly asks, what the noise is. The next thing I do is fumble around and look for my watch on the floor next to the bed. When I find it I see that it's a little after 11. It's pitch black and I can't find the flashlight, so I just get out of the bed and stumble in the direction of the Geiger counter which is still getting louder. I'm down on all fours when my hands find it and I'm shaking a little as I pick it up, insistent that it's broken or misreading the air somehow. What I saw next quite nearly made me crap a brick. It was easier to see outside than in the cabin

because of the moonlight shining through the leaves, and I could get a glimpse of the area around the fire pit. As I stand up with the Geiger counter, I look outside and see a woman standing there, facing the dying embers of our fire. Now I'm paralyzed with fear and confusion. I'm standing there holding this Geiger counter that is now screaming constant noise,

and getting as good a look as I can at this woman standing out there. It's a chilly night in the 40s, and she looks to be wearing a dress that comes down to about her knees. Her hair is messy, curly but unkempt, but I can't make out much more. I can't get a look at her face, but it's clear that she's facing the fire pit, possibly looking down into it or just over it, and off into the distance. My girlfriend is still in bed sitting and hasn't seen the woman yet. All of a sudden, my girlfriend asks,

What's going on? At full volume. I panic and wave my hands at her to keep the noise down, not wanting this stranger to hear that we're in the cabin, but it's too dark for my girlfriend to see. Then I see the woman turn her head toward us. I start breathing heavily. I drop the Geiger counter and run back toward the bed

where I whisper loud enough for my girlfriend to hear. There's someone outside. She now understands the reason for my panic and tenses up in the bed. The next thing I do is go to the door, walking low to try and hide, and turn the lock on the doorknob, very quietly testing the knob to make sure it's locked.

I'm almost too afraid to check. But I peer just over the edge of the window and the door to see where the woman is and let out a little yelp when I see she's still coming. But moving slowly, the fire pit is about 30 feet from the door and she's about 15 feet away now. I go back to the bed and find my girlfriend through touch as it's too dark for us to see each other, but I want us to be out of bed and ready to make a run for it if we have to. The Geiger counter, obviously, is still near the door and is on what must have been its max volume. We duck down in the corner between the bed and the wall, and wait silently. I hear the woman's footsteps as she comes up the steps to the cabin.

I'm waiting for her to try the door and just praying that she goes away after. My eyes are locked on the window and the door, but after I hear her walking on the steps, I don't see her emerge. A few minutes pass, we're still both on as high alert as we can be. For a minute I'm expecting to see her peering in one of the other windows and my eyes dart around. my ears are locked in trying to listen for footsteps, but I can't distinguish between potential steps and leaves in the wind. Time stands still for a while.

We're still sitting in the corner in a state of near panic, the Geiger counter still screaming. But then the Geiger counter starts to break a bit, the clicking slows down. Slowly but surely, over the next couple minutes, or maybe hours, it's hard to tell, the Geiger counter stops and silence falls over the cabin again. Meadless to say,

we did not sleep the rest of the night. We huddled in the corner and waited for dawn to break. When it did, we packed as quickly as possible, and literally ran the trail back to Peter's house. The whole time both of us were looking around constantly to see if any strange woman was coming at us. When we got to Peter's house, I set the Geiger counter on the porch

and did not wait to tell him about our night. We got in the car and drove off as fast as possible. We've both been seen by doctors since and had tests run and as far as we can tell, we're not suffering from radiation symptoms. But we're both very shaken up, and every night, when it's dark, I can't help but think I can see

the radioactive woman standing outside. Once again, I have come across a bizarre cabin debacle. For those of you who have read my posts before, my girlfriend and I are very into finding rustic and, or remote cabins to rent to get out of the mid-sized city we live in on weekends. This past weekend we made quite a venture, the way out to a small town in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, where a relative of mind has a very

large home. She was out of town for a weekend, with our cabin obsession in mind, asked us if we'd like to make the trek to the mountains and watch the house while she's gone. We readily accepted and started packing almost immediately. After a long drive-thru snow-capped mountains, we arrived. When I say this is a small town, I mean there's literally only about 200 people in the town. There's one general store, one gas station and no police force in the town. The house is on a dirt road that leads into the mountains and it has a hiking trail that leads into miles of intricate trails at the end. The houses are quite far apart on this street

and each lot is at least a few acres of land. Meadless to say, it's quiet most of the time in the house. The building itself is so large it's almost cavernous. This is aided by the fact that much of the ground floor is one high ceiling room with a balcony that looks over it from the second floor, There's also a small third floor and a partially finished basement. It's mostly wood paneling everywhere and pictures of the nearby mountains or family members on various skiing trips adorning the walls.

My girlfriend and I were in heaven in this place. We loved it as soon as we arrived. It was an excellent place to stay. The owner let us know that in this town, everyone leaves their doors unlocked as there's hardly been any break-ins in memory. Most people in the town know each other and most of the time when she goes out of town, a neighbor or friend will just let themselves into do the housekeeping. My aunt took off and left us alone there with her dog, a skinny, older poodle water dog mix who was very sweet named

Jenry. By then it was around six or so. We went to the one bar in town and had a small town meal that couldn't be beat, went to bed, and didn't get up until the next morning. Bright and early with the sun, so we could watch the sun come up over the still snow-capped mountains. We slept through the night without incident on the first night. But when we got up, I noticed some little oddities. Keep in mind this is our first night ever in this house, so we don't know the ins and outs of this proverbial palace, but I couldn't help but notice a couple things that were seemingly strange. For one, the refrigerator had a large supply of local goat cheese in it when we'd arrived. That morning, about half of it was gone. Taken straight out of the foil it was wrapped in. I hadn't

touched it and my girlfriend is a vegan. But I figured, it was possible that it had been like that when we got here, and I had forgotten. Even stranger, though, the front door, which consists of a wooden door and a screen door behind it, was just ajar. This I was positive I had checked before going to bed because it had practically been in the 30s in the night. The front part of the house was quite cold as a result of the door being open, so I closed it. I figured it was possible I hadn't closed it hard enough or something and slid open. During the day we went into the trails at the end of the road, and explored with the dog.

The network of trails back there was actually so intricate that we got lost for about an hour. It was around midday, and we started to encourage Jenry to lead us since he'd been on the trails so many times and might know the way. To do this, we kind of hyped him up until he was really worked up,

the way you do to get dogs excited, and then both yelled go, and let him run off so we could follow. For an old dog, Jenry could run a surprisingly long way, but not that quickly so we were able to keep up. It turned out Jenry was leading us somewhere, but not directly to the house. He led us down a couple trails and made a series of turns that I couldn't keep track of,

but we were so lost at that point that we might as well have just made turns at random. Eventually the trail started to narrow, and I could see a building up ahead. Jenry began to slow down and then, oddly, stopped in the middle of the trail and sat down. I stopped as well, not wanting to wander onto someone's property and knelt down to grab Jenry's collar. He was acting strangely. He was staring straight forward, as if concentrating on something. The trees around us here were younger pines, thick enough that I couldn't get a good idea of this building up ahead,

but that I could sort of make out its outline. It looked to be small, maybe a one-floor cabin, but Jenry clearly sensed something was in this pine brush with us. I was confused, thinking it odd that the dog had led us here only to stop dead, and sit silently. Then I followed Jenry's eyes to where he was. was looking in the pines and saw a figure moving slowly. I realized just then, over the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, that I could hear soft footsteps moving adjacent to us.

Now my eyes followed this figure as well as it treaded lightly over the soft ground. It appeared to cross the trail that was around a bend in front of us, and kept moving through the trees until it stopped, just a silhouette between us and this cabin. It looked like it could be roughly the size of a person, but it was hard to tell. At that moment, I figured it was a bad look if we had come face to face with the owner of the parcel, and just sat there staring so I let out a friendly hello. But I got no response. The figure just stood in silence.

Sorry for wandering onto your land, I continued. We're a bit lost and our dog ran down here. Still no answer. The figure was so still I thought it might have left, or I imagined it, just an apparition. Either way I had a bad feeling. I stood up, hunched over to keep a hand on Jenry's collar, and led him back the other way. It turns out Jenry had gotten us quite close and we only had to make one more turn to find our way back to our house.

The rest of that day went without incident. We made food, had a fire, and sang our campfire songs, had another mountain dinner that couldn't be beat, and went to bed. This time I made very sure that the door was closed and actually did lock it to make sure it stayed shut. This was more out of concern that the house would be cold in the morning than anything else. At this point I wasn't worried about anything, but I was still a little unnerved from the encounter on the trails earlier today. My relative had never mentioned any strange people living in cabins nearby in the woods. From what I had heard, everyone in town was very friendly and personable. It wasn't like these small town folk to not answer when someone wanders onto their land.

That night, strange things started to happen. We went to bed early, around nine at night. It's very quiet at night in that house. The only sounds are generally the wind and sometimes an animal walking outside. Around midnight, we were woken up abruptly to a loud beeping sound coming from the basement. As you can imagine, we were both freaked out by it. It was too loud to ignore, so we both got up and turned lights on as we ventured down into the basement. It's an oddly designed house and that there's no light switch at the top of the basement stairs,

and you have to wander down partway in complete darkness before you hit the switch at the bottom of the staircase to turn the basement lights on. My girlfriend and I both ventured down, holding hands and I could tell we were both a little freaked out. We turned the lights on and our fears were momentarily quelled as we realized the beeping was coming from the water heater. I messed around with some buttons on the machine until I hit one that finally got it to stop the loud beeping, when suddenly a new noise entered my awareness. On the ground floor, directly above us, I could hear footsteps. I immediately froze and whirled around to look at my girlfriend. She did the same and we both instinctively held a finger up to our lips signaling to stay quiet.

I didn't move or even take a breath. The steps were at a pace that seemed calm, not rushed or nervous, but were distinctly two-legged. What I couldn't figure out was why Jenry was so quiet. He was the type of dog that freaked out barking whenever someone came in the door or even just if there was a groundhog in the yard. If anyone had maliciously entered the house, Jenry, would probably be losing his mind. Yet it was totally quiet.

The steps began in the living room and were moving in the direction of being over us. Every so often I could hear them stop for a moment, then start, stop, and start. I could see up the steps to the living room and at one point, as the steps paused, saw the lights turn off in the living room. My heart almost stopped as I realized

whoever this was, they were stopping to turn all the lights we had turned on on our way down here. My next thought was they would surely come downstairs to turn the light off down here before getting to whatever they were going to do. My head snapped toward my girlfriend, she appeared to have the same idea. As quietly as we could, we moved toward the back of the basement,

out of view of the stairs, and waited. The steps continued to move toward the bedroom that we were staying in on the ground floor, pausing here and there ostensibly to turn off the lights. I worried for Jenry and for us. As the steps reached where our bedroom would be, they stopped again. I listened intently, waiting for them to start again, but was shocked to hear they never did. It was like whoever was up there had just slipped out a window, or teleported.

After waiting a while, we emerged and very quietly moved back upstairs, terrified to look around every corner. Inexplicably, we couldn't find anything strange. We turned the lights on again and checked every entrance. There wasn't a window open, a door cracked. The front door was still locked, even. Jenry was sound asleep and gave me a look as if to ask what all the fuss was about. I looked all over the bedroom we were in to see if there was a way out of the house from there, but couldn't find one. I felt like a crazy person as I even looked for a trap door in the closet.

The window was closed and locked. We barely slept that night but felt much better in the morning. We decided not to call the police, figuring if someone had gotten in the house Jenry would have barked and there would have been evidence of it. We couldn't explain what happened, but we had both been shaken up by the incident in the woods and decided to just try and move on. The day went on and we did our typical mountain life things. We chopped wood, cooked and made a fire, checked out the local bar again and then came home as night fell. I think we both felt a little on edge as we settled down to go to bed and understandably so. I decided to move Jenry's dog bed into our room for the night.

For some reason it was comforting. Night fell and all was silent again. I'm a notorious insomniac, whereas my girlfriend could sleep through a nuclear bomb test. I lied awake, waiting for something to happen, sure that it would. The hours passed. Midnight passed. One, two, still nothing. I slept intermittently and lightly.

Then around three, upstarts the water heater again. My girlfriend wakes up as well and puts a pillow over her head. I also want to ignore it, hoping it will just shut off itself. It goes on for a few minutes, not showing any signs of stopping. I give in and get up, going to find the button that turned it off last time. I emerge from our room into a hallway that leads to a den, and then to the living room. Then as I get to the top of the stairs, the beeping stops. I pause, partly glad that I don't have to go down in the basement and partly trying to hear anything strange.

It's silent. I hear nothing. The machine fixed itself. I shrug and turn the lights off as I head back to the room and slept great for the rest of the night. The next morning everything seemed normal until I went to take a shower. The shower would not get hot even after running it for ten minutes. That damn water heater again. I head downstairs into the basement.

It's dimly lit but has small windows that allow enough light that you don't need the electric lights during the day. As I come up to the machine, I'm livid. I notice it's completely turned off and think. Great, now we're not going to have hot water the rest of the week. Then I noticed the wire sticking out of the back and move around it. I'm shocked. Someone or something had ripped the wires that power the heater straight out of it, leaving loose wire hanging from the back.

I dropped the cords and ran back upstairs, terrified someone might still be down there with me. My girlfriend asks what's wrong. Someone broke the water heater. We decide to call the coffee. and not even bother going back down. In a town this small, it's just the state cops who respond to any issues, but they take a long time to get there. We wait about 20 minutes before one cop pulls into the driveway,

and we explain the whole situation with the footsteps and the broken water heater. He takes a look at it and decides we have rats. Rats. My girlfriend and I both responded in unison. I've had rats before and know the telltale signs. Yet I had not seen any of the little. had not seen any of the droppings or heard the rustling noises and the walls since we'd been in

this house. The cop said he couldn't explain the footsteps we'd heard, but if we hadn't found any signs of forced entry, there wasn't much he could do. He said to call again if anything else happened and left. My girlfriend and I were both very worried now. I tried calling my relative who owns the house, but she was on a trip overseas and I repeatedly got her voicemail. I was frightened to go to sleep that night but didn't want to just up and leave the house without her knowing. We tried our best to have a fun, normal day, but we were both so on edge. Our minds both instinctively looked for things to be scared of. At one point, I swear someone was shining something out of the woods about a hundred yards off. There was a glinting, like someone reflecting the bright sunlight at me to get my attention. I wrote it off

as my imagination, yet it seemed so real. My girlfriend was also paranoid. At one point she was, She claimed she'd seen someone in the shed outside. We both went out to check it out and couldn't find anyone. That night, we were both terrified. I felt like I could cry as the sun went down, but we agreed to stick it out for one more night. Once more we were in bed and I laid awake waiting for the inevitable sounds. I doubted it would be the water heater this time, but I expected something. My girlfriend, amazingly, stayed awake for a long time as well, but eventually somehow fell

asleep. Unbelievably, that night went by without incident. A few times I thought I heard footsteps outside the window and got up to peer out, but couldn't see anyone. On one occasion I scared away a deer that was nibbling on the leaves of the trees outside, and chuckled at myself. We felt much better the following day, and for a while, it seemed like our issues might have been resolved. We did our usual thing, walking the dog and hiking near a local river. Nighttime came in, although I was a little nervous, I figured I could get some sleep tonight. Dusk fell and we laid in the bed again. My girlfriend fell asleep without issue as did January. I laid awake until about midnight but drifted off. The next thing I remember is a strange dream

where I was sitting at the dining room table of our house in Pennsylvania and someone was knocking at the door. In the dream, I kept trying to get up and answer it, but the door was so heavy I couldn't open it. Then I snapped into focus, acutely awake at once and realized that the knocking in my dream was footsteps coming from the second floor. Loud footsteps, like someone moving just under running speed. I was paralyzed with fear, but I moved my hand over to shake my girlfriend awake. I was amazed and relieved she didn't scream as the footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs on the far side of the house. They were loud and fast, too fast for me to consider what to do. They moved across the large living room, getting louder and louder.

Genri finally woke up and started barking. My girlfriend and I both cowered in fear in the bed, unable to move. The footsteps reached our door and then stopped suddenly. For a moment it was quiet and I reached over to the bedside table, looking for anything to use as a weapon but found only the digital clock. Whoever was here knew we were in this room. I waited, but nothing came. minutes passed and still nothing.

I wanted to believe the imposter had left, decided we were uninteresting, and just disappeared like it had a few nights ago. But I had to know. I got up, there wasn't a single sound in that room, as Jenry had stopped barking, but stood looking at the door in anticipation. I moved closer and put a hand on a knob.

As it turned it let out a noisy creak that made me cringe internally. Suddenly I flung open the door. No one was there. I poked a head out, the clock aimed back ready to bludgeon anyone who showed themselves. I slowly exhaled and turned around, only to scream and jump when I saw the bedroom window. And it was a dark figure,

a shadowy head peering in that darted down as soon as I yelled. My girlfriend, seeing it too, began to scream as well. We both ran out of the room, January following. We rushed to the front door on the far side of the house without bothering with shoes or clothes and ran for the car. Once inside I triple-checked my door was locked. I frantically started the car and backed out of the driveway. My head turned looking out the back.

I heard my girlfriend, riding shotgun, let out a shaky. Look. I stopped the car and turned my head forward. There, on the wraparound porch, someone was standing. We couldn't tell who in the darkness, but it was what appeared to be a person. We stared for a moment, horrified before it started to walk down the steps. I gasped as I watched the figure now break into an all-out sprint toward the car. My girlfriend screamed, snapping me out of the trance I was in and I floored the car in reverse.

Once on the road I threw the car in gear and drove away as quickly as possible, checking in my rear-view mirror, but seeing nothing. We drove for a long time to the next sizable town, and checked into the first hotel that allowed dogs. The next day we went back and just did a drive-by of the house. It looked to be in order, but I wouldn't dare, go inside or even get out of the car. We've been staying at the hotel for a few days now and haven't had any problems, but we've been too scared to go hiking or do anything in town. I've

been trying to get in touch with the owner to let her know. I desperately want to leave this town now, but I don't want to take Genry without my relatives' knowledge. That is where we are for now. I have no idea what to do next.