Just Creepy: Scary Stories - SCARIEST FOREST STORIES THAT WILL HAUNT YOU IN THE DARK

Episode Date: June 14, 2024

Prepare to be chilled to the bone with these terrifying forest stories that will keep you up at night. From mysterious disappearances to encounters with the supernatural, these tales are sure to make you think twice before venturing into the woods alone. Watch if you dare, but beware, these stories may haunt you long after the video ends. So grab a blanket, turn off the lights, and get ready for a spine-tingling journey into the depths of the forest. Story Credits: ►Sent in to https://www.justcreepy.net/ Timestamps: 00:00 Into 00:00:18 Story 1 00:06:54 Story 2 00:16:56 Story 3 00:27:45 Story 4 00:35:21 Story 5 00:42:39 Story 6 00:50:14 Story 7 00:56:45 Story 8 Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #horrorstories #deepwoods #forest 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀

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Stop taking bad travel advice. Start comparing hundreds of sites with kayak and get your trip right. Bad advice? You talking to me? Kayak, got that right. I'm a 20-year-old guy from a rural part of South Carolina in the low country. I won't give an exact location for obvious reasons,

but I will tell you my whole family is from here. Currently, I live in a small town not too far from where I'm from. To sum it up, my uncle, cousins and aunts still live back at home, while my mom, siblings, stepdad, and I live in this nearby small town. I grew up mostly fishing, while my other family members mostly hunted. I'm writing this story on May 10, 2024, and it's been about six months since this creepy encounter happened. I've had a couple of experiences. The first one wasn't so bad, but the second was very scary, and that's the one I want to share. I've always heard about sleep paralysis,

never really believed in it. I believe in spirits and ghosts, but for some reason, never anything like sleep paralysis. When I heard that people could wake up unable to move and often see figures, I didn't pay it much mind, thinking they were just vivid nightmares. But then it happened to me one night, about six to eight months ago. I was in my bed, falling asleep because I had to work the next day. Quick note, my brother and I share a room in our family's house. Everything was off in the room when I suddenly woke up later to a loud ringing sound in my ears. I thought it was my alarm or something, so I opened my eyes and tried to check my phone but couldn't move at all. I started to freak out. I couldn't even talk. I could only look around. I looked at my brother

as he slept, wondering how he couldn't hear the ringing. At this point, I felt paralyzed, but somehow I managed to move the tip of my finger and snap out of it. I wanted to move to the tip of my finger and snap out of it. I wanted to scream and yell, but I was too shocked by the experience. I did tell my sister about it, and she knew immediately what it was. I didn't want to wake anyone up, so I just went back to bed. Fast forward a couple of months later, it was hunting season in South Carolina. For those who don't know, in our game zone, hunting season with a rifle starts August 15th and ends January 1st. It was around November, I'm going to assume, and my cousin and I were going hunting

on my uncle's land where I grew up. We planned to get up early before daylight around 5 a.m. So we would be ready when the deer started coming out. I'm not a great morning person, at least not that early, unless it's for hunting or fishing. Then I'm raring to go. So that day we got up early, threw on our hunting clothes, and grabbed our guns.

We discussed which stand we wanted to take. There were four in total, and only two of us hunting that day. I chose to take the middle row stand because it's basically in the middle of the hunting area. We started walking in the woods. Soon, he went off to his own stand, and then I headed to mine. It was 5.30 a.m. by that point, and I'm sure both of us were still tired. I made it to my stand, set my gun on the side, and basically waited for daylight. I got on my phone and scrolled through social media with my sound and brightness down.

I laid my head to the side on the deer stand, tired, but not tired enough to go to sleep. I closed my eyes for about a moment when all of a sudden I heard this sound. I had my eyes closed, but I'm telling you, I wasn't asleep. Wasn't far from sleep, but definitely awake enough to know what was going on. I thought nothing of it, thinking it was my uncle's dog, because sometimes he would make his way back on the hunting trail. But it didn't sound like a dog running through the woods. No, this sounded more human if you know what I mean.

Maybe it's just me, but animals tend to not make as much noise as people do carelessly walking through the woods. I was still trying not to think much of it until I heard what sounded like a little boy singing. I listened closely, trying to figure out what he was singing, but I really couldn't tell. At this point, I didn't even want to open my eyes because I was so freaked out, hearing a little boy sing while it was still dark in the woods. Screw that. I would have gotten out of the deer stand and just left, but at the moment I felt safer in it. I heard him walk through the leaves on the ground, getting closer to the point where he was right behind my deer stand. Then all of a sudden, he stopped. I was thinking, what the heck, there's no way this is actually happening.

A couple of minutes went by, and I heard the stepping again, but this time it was coming up the deer stand steps. The deer stand sits about 20 feet high with a built-in ladder to get inside. All I heard was this supposed little boy coming up my ladder slowly, and no longer singing. At this point, I was an inch away from a heart attack. I thought to myself, I've got a gun, but if this is a ghost, that ain't going to do no good. Finally I heard him, or whatever it was, get up to the last step, like it was right on the other side of me with the wall of the deer stand blocking him. I kept my eyes closed, hoping I was, in fact, dreaming.

I know this might sound unreal, but I kid you not. Out of nowhere, a little boy's voice came right into my ear, saying something really fast, like he was right there beside me whispering. Whatever he said was so quick, I couldn't understand a word of it. I snapped out of whatever trance I was in, and everything stopped. I still stayed in the stand until the hunt was over. neither me nor my cousin got anything. I did tell him about it,

and basically all my family, except my uncle. As for him, I knew he would just laugh at me, but everyone else, for the most part, seemed to believe my story, but they didn't take it as seriously as I do. I can't say I really blame them. No one knows how scary an experience really is, unless it happens to them.

Now, I still go hunting these days, not going to let something like that scare me off forever, but it definitely shook me. I always ask myself, though, was it sleep paralysis? I don't think I was asleep. Was I in some kind of trance, or could it have simply been a ghost? I still wonder what it said to me. I have no good explanation, although I was never harmed by either of these events. I don't wish them on anybody.

It's just creepy, man. My name's Rick, and if you're reading this, you're probably like me. always on the hunt for the next big adventure. I run a travel blog that's all about diving into the unknown, the kind of places that make you feel alive. My buddy Tyler, on the other hand, would rather spend his weekends at home playing video games. But somehow, I managed to drag him along with me

to explore an unnamed state park in North Georgia. It was early spring, and the wildflowers were just starting to peek through the leafy underbrush, painting the landscape with dashes of color. Tyler wasn't thrilled from the start. As we pulled into the park's entrance, a wooden sign creaked ominously in the gentle wind, the words,

Danger, unstable terrain, boldly warning us. I chuckled and clapped him on the back. Come on, man. When have we ever stuck to the beaten path? Tyler just frowned, adjusting his heavy backpack. The park ranger at the entrance booth wasn't any more reassuring. He eyed our equipment. my camera, Tyler's oversized pack, and suggested we stick to the marked trails.

We've had some sinkholes appear recently. He said a stern look crossing his face. Don't wander off. It can get pretty risky out there. But the thrill of discovery pulsed through my veins. I could already imagine the stories and the photos I'd share on my blog. Convincing Tyler, though, was another story. Look, we'll be fine, I assured it. I've got the GPS, and we'll keep close to the trail, sort of. As we ventured deeper into the park, the well-trodden path gave way to a thick, verdant forest that seemed untouched. Every few steps, the scenery changed dramatically, from towering oaks to dense patches of pine.

It was breathtaking, and for a moment, even Tyler seemed caught up in the beauty of it all. However, the further we walked, the more I felt a tug of curiosity to see what lay beyond the next ridge, beyond the next cluster of trees. Ignoring the signs and Tyler's increasing unease, I steered us off the path. Just a quick detour, I promised him, though I wasn't sure myself. The ground beneath our feet became uneven, covered with a tangle of roots and loose stones. We had to be careful with every step, but I was too excited to worry much. That was my mistake. Without warning, the earth beneath me just disappeared. One second I was there, and the next, I was falling through open air, a shout caught in my throat.

I crashed down into darkness, the impact knocking the wind out of me. I lay there for a moment, stunned and gasping for air. Above me I could hear Tyler shouting my name, his voice laced with panic. I tried to respond, to let him know I was alive, but my voice was just a hoarse whisper. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the hole I'd fallen through, I realized I was in some kind of cave, alone, hurt, but alive. I had no idea how I was going to get out or what was waiting for me in the shadows of the cave. But one thing was clear. I should have listened to the warnings. The pain hit me first, sharp and demanding as I tried to move.

My left arm throbbed terribly, and my head felt like it had been split open. I lay on the cold, damp cave floor, trying to catch my breath, every inhale like fire in my chest. Tyler! I shouted, or at least I tried to. My voice was barely a whisper, echoing faintly in the vast darkness. With shaky hands, I reached for my phone. Thank goodness it was still in my pocket, and somehow it hadn't broken in the fall. I turned on the flashlight, and a narrow beam of light cut through the darkness. The cave was larger than I had imagined, with jagged walls and a ceiling lost in shadow. Stalactites hung overhead like silent watchers, and the air was thick with the musty smell of damp earth. I was trying to stand when I heard it,

a soft, shuffling sound in the darkness. My heart skipped a beat. Who's there? I called out, my voice stronger this time, but still quivering with fear. There was no answer, just the sound again, closer this time. I tightened my grip on the phone, using the light like a shield as I turned slowly around. Then I saw it, a figure, or rather, the vague outline of something inhuman, hovering just at the edge of the light. Don't be afraid, it whispered. Its voice a chilling caress that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. What are you? I managed to choke out. My entire body tensed for a flight I knew was impossible. I am what remains, the voice said. I am the forgotten, the consumed. My mind raced.

Consumed, forgotten, what did that mean? But I understood one thing clearly, this entity, whatever it was, survived on whatever fell into its domain. And right now, that included me. We talked, if you could call it that. The entity never moved into the full light, and I never saw its true form. It spoke of time in a way that made no sense, of centuries passed in darkness, waiting for the occasional unfortunate soul to tumble down. as I had. Meanwhile, above, Tyler must have been going out of his mind with worry. I wondered if he had

gotten help yet. The thought of him alone out there, scared and helpless, made me feel even worse. I needed to get out, not just for myself, but for him too. As the hours dragged on, my initial terror gave way to a grim determination. I wasn't going to end up like the others. The entity's past meals. I wasn't going to be forgotten down here. I had to survive, to find a way back to Tyler, back to the light. The creature continued to talk, its voice a haunting melody that tried to lull me into despair, but with every word it spoke, I felt more awake, more alive than ever. I knew then that I had to keep fighting, to keep hoping, even in the face of such ancient darkness.

And so I waited, clinging to the slivers of sunlight that streamed through the hole far above, a reminder that there was still a world outside, a world worth returning to. I never knew how much I'd missed the sound of birds chirping until I thought I might never hear them again. Lying in the dark, damp cave, listening to the eerie silence broken only by the occasional drip of water, I realized how close I was to never seeing the sky again. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and hope as I clung to the thought. of rescue. Above ground, Tyler must have been frantic. I could almost picture him running through the woods, tripping over roots in his desperation to find help. He wasn't the outdoorsy type. The fact that he was

out there, fighting his fears to save me, made me feel a mixture of guilt and gratitude. The weight felt endless. My mind raced with thoughts of my family, my blog readers, and all the unexplored places I still wanted to see. I wasn't ready to be a story of tragedy, just another cautionary tale. Then, finally, the sound of voices echoed down from above. Rick, can you hear us? It was Tyler's voice, strained with relief and worry. Other voices joined his, shouting instructions and encouragement. The rescue team had arrived. I yelled back, my voice hoarse. I'm here. I'm alive. Every word felt like a very The rescue was a blur of ropes, lights, and urgent voices. The cave filled with the glow of

flashlights as rescuers worked to secure a safe way to lift me out. I saw the creature one last time as I was being hoisted up. It lingered in the shadows. Its form still unclear, a silent sentinel of the deep. Its presence was a chilling reminder of what awaited those who ventured too far from the light. The sunlight hit my face like a warm embrace as I emerged from the deep. from the cave. I had never been so grateful for fresh air. Tyler was there, his face a mask of relief and tears. We hugged, the kind of hug that said everything we couldn't put into words. Sitting on the back of the ambulance, wrapped in a blanket, I watched as the rangers cordoned off the area around the sinkhole. The park ranger I had dismissed earlier approached me, his expression

serious. You were lucky, he said. Most aren't. His words. struck a chord. I had been reckless, driven by a thirst for adventure and stories for my blog. I had ignored warnings and endangered not just myself, but my best friend. The weight of my action settled on my shoulders, heavy and uncomfortable. In the weeks that followed, my recovery was slow but steady. Tyler stuck by me, never once saying, I told you so, even though he had every right to. I spent a lot of time thinking about the creature in the cave, the lives it had claimed, and the lives it might still claim. I returned to my blog not to share tales of reckless adventure, but to warn others of the dangers of ignoring signs and overstepping boundaries. I wrote about the beauty of the wild,

but also about respect and preservation. My experience had changed me. I had sought a story, and I had found one, but not the one I expected. It was a story of survive, friendship and respect for the forces of nature. Forces that are as beautiful as they are dangerous, as inviting as they are unforgiving. This spring Uber Eats has you covered, whether you're celebrating mom, dad, or your favorite grad. Not all of us are great planners and with the Uber Eats gift tub you don't have to be. Send flowers, perfume, champagne, or just their favorite meal straight to their door. Gifts arrive in as little as 25 minutes and you can add a personalized video message for that additional so not last minute touch. So this.

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Watch remarkably bright creatures with your remarkable moms this Mother's Day weekend. Only on Netflix May 8th. Every year, my friends and I head deep into the forest near our hometown for a camping trip. But this year was different. The place felt strange as soon as we arrived. Maybe it was because we hadn't been there in a while. Or maybe it was just us growing up and seeing things differently. Looks like nature took over, Maddie commented.

Her voice echoing slightly in the dense overgrowing. own forest. Coal, Jackson, Aaron, Hudson, and I exchanged glances. The two small two-story log houses we built as kids stood somewhat proudly among the thick underbrush, more rugged and wild than I remembered. We used to play in those cabins, pretending they were forts or castellated towers in some ancient land. They were our retreat, our little piece of adventure. Despite the nostalgia, the sight of them in such a run-down state was a bit disheartening. Well, they're still standing. That's something, right? Hudson said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood as he dropped his heavy backpack by the door of the nearest cabin.

We spent the first few hours clearing out some of the invading flora and making the cabins livable. As the sunlight began to fade, casting long shadows through the trees, a peculiar smell caught our attention. It was faint at first, but grew stronger, more foul as we ventured closer to the source. What is that smell? Aaron asked, covering his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. We followed the scent, stepping carefully over twisted roots and crunching dead leaves underfoot, until Maddie, who was leading the way, stopped dead in her tracks. Her gasp was sharp, cutting through the murmur of the forest. What's wrong? I hurried over to her side, and that's when I saw it, a deer carcass.

Not just any deer carcass, though. This one was grotesque, its limbs torn off and shoved down its throat. It was like nothing I'd ever seen. Not just the sight, but the whole vibe it gave off was wrong. Oh man, that's brutal, Cole muttered as the rest of us gathered around. Everyone was visibly shaken, their faces pale and eyes wide. We should move it, get it away from here, I suggested, after a moment of stunned silence. reluctantly, we agreed, dragging the carcass to the nearby lake to dispose of it.

The task was grim, and it left us all feeling uneasy. By the time we got back to the camp, the sun had set, and the forest around us seemed darker than before, more menacing. We tried to shake off the unease with food and drinks around the campfire. The light from the fire flickered across our faces, casting strange shadows and making the trees around us look like they were moving. As the night progressed, Cole began to tell us about the Wendigo, a creature from folklore known as a mimic and shapeshifter,

capable of luring people away with familiar voices. His story was meant to scare us, and it worked, especially considering the day's earlier events. Most of us laughed it off, trying to hide our nervousness, but the seed of fear had already been planted. As the fire died down and we retreated to the cabin, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us from the darkness, waiting. We settled into the cabins and tried to make the best of it,

but as I lay in my sleeping bag that night, the image of the mutilated deer and the sound of Cole's voice recounting the Wendigo legend echoed in my mind. Sleep, when it finally came, was restless and filled with strange, shadowy dreams. The sky was still a blanket of black when we decided to go for a hike along the old trail we knew so well as kids. Despite the familiar path, everything felt more sinister in the dark. The events of yesterday still hung heavily on us, but we tried to keep our spirits light, cracking jokes and reminiscing about less eerie times. About 15 minutes into our hike, Jackson abruptly stopped and muttered that he needed a bathroom break. The rest of us paused,

waiting for him to disappear into the woods. Hudson offered to go with him, but But Jackson waved him off, saying he'd catch up in a few minutes. The air grew chillier as we waited. We talked about school, the latest movies, and even touched on politics, anything to distract from the eerie silence of the forest. Suddenly Jackson emerged from the trees. Hey, I'm back, he said, but something was off. His voice was flat, his usual cheerful spark gone.

He looked different too. Thinner. Jackson has always been a bit stocky, so seeing him look almost gone. was unsettling. I chalked it up to the dim light playing tricks on my eyes. We resumed walking, but the atmosphere had shifted. Jackson was unusually quiet, just staring ahead, not participating in the conversation. Then my phone rang. It was Jackson. Confused, I answered, Hey man, where are you? Uh, I think I got lost. Where are you guys? His voice came through the speaker, sounding genuinely confused and a little scared.

I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at the person who claimed to be Jackson. What do you mean? You're right here with us, I said, the blood draining from my face. I didn't even reach you yet, he replied. His voice tinged with panic. The person in front of us turned slowly, a smile creeping across his face. It wasn't a friendly smile, but something malicious, something that sent shivers down my spine. Then, without a word, he walked back into the darkness of the trees and vanished. We stood there, frozen, until a distant scream shattered the silence. It sounded like it came from the direction the imposter had gone.

Without thinking, we scattered, running blindly into the forest. I found myself running down a narrow path, my heart pounding in my ears. Branches scratched at my face and arms, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. Fear propelled me forward until I stumbled into a small clearing, illuminated only by the moonlight. Breathing heavily, I tried to orient myself, but before I could take a step further, Aaron burst into the clearing. His eyes were wide with terror. It's chasing me, he yelled as he ran past. Glancing back, I saw a dark, hulking shape on all fours gaining on him. Panic surged through me,

and I ran in the opposite direction. Sounds of chaos echoed through the trees, shouts. more screams, the snapping of branches. I pushed myself harder, trying to find my way back to the campsite. It seemed like forever before the familiar glow of our dying campfire came into view. I collapsed near the fire, gulping down water to calm my shaking hands. Just as I was catching my breath, my phone buzzed. It was a group call from Cole. Is everyone okay? He asked. His voice strained. One by one, we checked in, all except Hudson and Aaron. Their silence was the most terrifying response of all. The morning light felt harsh as it broke through the trees, illuminating the campsite that now looked more like a battleground than a retreat. My eyes were

heavy from a night with hardly any sleep, filled with nightmares that continued even when I was awake. We gathered around the campfire, its embers barely glowing, each of us looking as battered and shaken as the other. Hudson was the last to arrive, limping slightly with a deep cut on his arm. He looked worse for where, his eyes darting around as if expecting the creature to leap out at any moment. Aaron wasn't with him, and my heart sank. Aaron tripped and it went after her, Hudson choked out, his voice breaking. The relief of seeing each other alive was dampened by the worry for Aaron and the lingering fear of what still might be lurking in the shadows. We shared our stories in hushed tones, piecing together the events of the night.

Jackson spoke of his own terrifying encounter after the imposter had led him astray. Maddie and Cole recounted hearing distant screams and the unnerving feeling of being watched. As we spoke, our phones vibrated with a message from Aaron. She was okay, just shaken and hiding until daylight. She'd make her way back to us soon. The tension eased slightly, but the air remained thick with unease. We decided not to wait any longer in these woods. Packing up felt like the longest task, every rustle in the underbrush making us jump. As we hurriedly stuffed our belongings into our backpacks, the reality of what had happened began to truly sink in. We were leaving, but the memories of what we'd experienced would linger far longer. The walk back to civil

was quiet. Words seemed unnecessary, inadequate after what we'd faced. When we reached our cars, parked at the trailhead, we agreed to call the police and report what had happened. I dialed the number, my hands still trembling. The voice on the other end promised to send a team to investigate, but as I hung up, I wondered if they'd find anything. Would they believe us? Did it even matter? We drove away in a convoy, the forest receding behind us. The further we got, the more the forest seemed like a distant nightmare, a story from someone else's life. Yet the glances we exchanged told me that none of us would forget,

nor would we be the same. The following days were a blur of phone calls and restless nights. Hudson's wound was treated, and thankfully it wasn't serious. We kept in touch daily, needing the reassurance that came from knowing the others were still there, still okay, or at least as okay as we could be. It's been two years since that trip, and we haven't gone back to the woods. We still meet up, though. Our gatherings are now in places where the lights are bright, and the night is less threatening. We talk about going back sometimes, half in jest, half in a dare, but some unspoken agreement always stops us.

We know some places, like some memories, are better left undisturbed. The woods are off-limbed, limits now, a chapter closed in our lives. But the bonds we formed there, under the strangest and most terrifying circumstances, those will last a lifetime. All. Pay off your home, travel for life, drive a Ferrari. In celebration of the world premiere of the Monopoly Big Board Buckslot Machine by Aristocrat Gaming, Yamava Resort and Casino at San Manuel is giving one person a $1.6 million dream package. The biggest prize in Yamava's history. Club Serrano members can earn daily instant prizes and secure a spot in the finale May 29. Don't Pasco and own it all only at Yamava celebrating its 40th anniversary.

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Hilton, for the stay. Introducing the new Best Skin Ever, Ultra Slim Precision Concealer from Sephora Collection. It's full coverage with a matte finish and perfect for any look, whether you're building it up for a full glam moment or targeting correction for a more natural vibe. At only $12, it's great for affordable touch-ups on the go. Get this new must-have concealer at Sephora or at Sephora.com today. The evening breeze was cooler than usual as it rustled through the sparse, scrappy patches of forest bordering our backyard. I could still smell the faint scent of newly turned earth mixed with the residual wildness from the forest.

A reminder that only a few years ago, this place was farmland. That summer, at eight years old, I'd be a little bit of a little. I felt both a pang of adventure and the pinch of solitude as my older brother decided he'd outgrown backyard camping. I dragged the family's old four-person tent from the garage by myself, the fabric musty but familiar. The tent was a relic from countless family trips, its canvas speckled with patches of mud and pine resin. Setting it up became a ritual I knew by heart, unfolding the canvas, connecting the rods with a satisfying click and securing the stakes. The tent was squeezed into the small flat clearing we had, a stone's throw from the dark silhouette of the house.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows that crept across the yard like curious fingers. My brother stayed inside, glued to whatever new video game had captured his attention, the blue glow from the TV flickering against the living room window. I felt a twinge of rejection, quickly swallowed by a surge of defiant independence. With the tent up, I grabbed. my essentials, a flashlight, a pack of slightly squash sandwiches, and a bag of crisps. My inflatable mattress filled the floor of the tent, and I spread a thin blanket over it. The summer had been particularly hot, and the thought of a sleeping bag made me itch with anticipated discomfort.

I settled down as the first stars began to wink in the twilight sky, my little dome of nylon feeling more like a spaceship than a tent. I was the captain, ready to steer through the night alone. My parents had left the back door unlocked, a silent acknowledgement of their trust in the safety of our small community, and perhaps in my growing independence. But as I drifted off to sleep, the comforting familiarity of the day melted away. Night in the country isn't silent. It's a symphony of whispers, rustles, and distant calls. Yet something else cut through those usual sounds, an irregular, heavy patter. Footstands. They were too deliberate, too heavy to belong to any animal I knew.

I froze, the childish fantasies of adventure curdling into real fear. The footsteps circled the tent, each thud like a drumbeat against my pulse. My mind raced. Was it my brother, trying to scare me? But no, he'd never ventured out alone at night either. Maybe dad checking on me. I clung to that hope, but the unsettling thought lingered. They both knew better than to frighten me like this.

Dad? My voice was a shaky whisper, swallowed by the vast darkness. Silence answered first, then a low, guttural growl vibrated through the thin tent walls. It was unlike any sound our dog made, or any animal I'd heard before. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead as I grabbed my teddy bear, pressing it to my chest like a shield. The growl morphed into something between a groan and a snarl, sending chills down my spine. I was no longer an adventurer. I was prey, trapped in a flimsy shell of fabric and poles. As I lay there, paralyzed by fear, the creature, or whatever it was, continued its ominous patrol

around my makeshift fortress. Each minute stretched into an eternity, the night air thick with my silent terror and the unknown menace lurking just beyond the thin walls of my childhood sanctuary. The moon was a thin crescent, barely shedding light over the small clearing where my tent stood. Its pale glow was insufficient against the dense darkness that the night draped over everything. Inside the tent, the thin fabric seemed to amplify every sound, making the night feel even more alive and more menacing. My heart hammered in my chest as the creature's presence intensified. Rocks began pelting the tent with soft thuds, jolting me further into terror. The quiet of the night had turned hostile, each strike a declaration

of danger. I burrowed deeper under my blanket, the familiar feel of the teddy bear pressed against my chest failing to comfort me. The silence that followed was suffocating. It seemed as if the night itself was holding its breath. The suspense was unbearable. Then, just as sudden as the quiet came, it was broken by a sound that curdled my blood, a laugh, low and cruel, unlike anything human. It echoed around the tent, bouncing off the trees and filling the space with dread. I gathered every ounce of courage I had left. I couldn't just lie there waiting for whatever was outside to come in. Clutching the flashlight like a lifeline, I flicked it on, the beam cutting through the darkness like a sword.

I aimed it toward the zipper just as it began to jiggle. Go away! I yelled, my voice quivering. But the zipper continued its dance, slowly revealing the night outside. Heart pounding. I braced myself against the back of the tent. pushing as far from the opening as I could. As the zipper reached its zenith, the laughter stopped abruptly. There, framed in the doorway, was a face so grotesque it was almost unreal. Eyes deep, black, and endless stared back at me. The skin was pale, almost translucent, stretched taut over sharp cheekbones. It was a visage of nightmares, its mouth twisted in a silent snarl. Adrenaline

surged through my veins, and with a scream that tore from my throat raw, I shone the flashlight straight into those dark, pit-like eyes. The creature recoiled as if struck, its arm, the one that was poised to pull the tent further open, jerking back. The rocket had been holding dropped with a dull thud. For a moment we were both frozen, caught in the standoff. Then, the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps from the house broke the night. My dad, alerted by my scream, was coming. The creature gave one last look, a mix of curiosity and malice, before it turned and disappeared into the darkness, as swiftly as it had appeared. I collapsed back, gasping for breath. The flashlights beam now just a shaky spot on the tent fabric. The aftermath was a blur of motion and comforting words. My dad's

arms were around me in seconds, lifting me out of the tent and away from the nightmare. Back in the house, the light seemed too bright, the safety too thin, but I was alive, shaken, and unable to unsee what I had seen. Morning light brought no relief. The rocks lay scattered around the tent, a silent testament to the night's terror. My dad, trying to rationalize, suggested a possum or a stray animal, but the memory of those endless black eyes haunted me. It was no animal I knew, nor any creature I could name until years later, when my brother would finally admit he too had seen it.

We never camped out again after that night. The woods held secrets dark and deep, and some were better left undisturbed. It was just another one of those nights, really. Living in a buzzing city, you'd think I'd sleep soundly with all the constant hum of life outside. But no, not.

me. I was the kid who craved ghost stories, who lingered on forums about the unexplained, and who jumped at the chance to watch every horror flick that hit the theaters. So yeah, my nights were different, filled with a weird mix of dread and anticipation. I remember that night clearly. I was about 15, maybe 16, caught between feeling invincible and being scared of my own shadow. It was around 2 a.m. when nature called. I slipped out of bed. I slipped out of bed. still half asleep, shuffling towards the bathroom. Our apartment was not large, but at night, every hallway seemed to stretch on forever. After I finished up in the bathroom, I stood at the doorway. I had this bizarre habit, don't ask me why, of looking down the hallway into our living room every night.

Maybe I was hoping to scare myself, or maybe I was just a glutton for punishment. The darkness of the living room was like a canvas for my overactive imagination. But that night, as I peered into the shadows, my heart froze. Two bright, shiny eyes stared back at me. They weren't like any animals or humans' eyes. They glowed with a strange, almost metallic light. The figure was perched on our old couch, its body curled into a fetal position, but its head was turned unnaturally towards me.

It looked wrong, twisted. I should have screamed or run, but I didn't. I was rooted to the spot. my breath caught in my throat. The eyes didn't blink. They didn't move. They just watched me, and I watched back, my mind racing, but my body unnervingly still. The kitchen light, left on by mom who always forgot to turn it off, cast a faint glow that illuminated the creature just enough for me to see its pale, hairless skin. It was eerie, like something out of a nightmare, yet there it was in my living room. It looked like it could be tall, maybe over six feet,

it stood up. I noted its skinny, almost fragile frame, and shuddered. What was it? Why was it here? My mind spun with questions, but my legs finally decided to cooperate. I backed away slowly, not taking my eyes off those glowing orbs until I had to turn my back to slip into my room. I closed the door softly, half expecting the creature to pounce at any moment. Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling, wide awake now. Was I scared? Strangely, no, shocked, definitely. I tried to rationalize what I had seen. Was it a burglar?

A very strange, very naked burglar with shiny eyes. That didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. I didn't sleep that night. Instead I lay there, thinking about my family sleeping in the next rooms, about the locked doors and windows, and about the things sitting in our living room. What did it want?

Why me? morning light eventually crept through my curtains, offering some relief. As quietly as I could, I crept back into the living room. It was empty, no sign of the visitor from the night before, had it been real. I touched the couch, half expecting it to be cold from an unearthly presence, but it was just a couch, ordinary as ever. Whatever I had seen it was gone now, but the memory of those haunting shiny eyes lingered. I knew things might never be the same again. The first rays of morning lights seemed harsh,

almost intrusive as they filtered through my window. I had spent most of the night staring at my ceiling, replaying over and over the bizarre and terrifying glimpse of whatever that thing was. With the sun up, it felt like whatever had happened could be dismissed as a trick of the shadows, or maybe a dream. But deep down, I knew it wasn't. I dragged myself out of bed,

my body heavy with exhaustion. The first thing I did was tiptoe to the living room, half expecting to see that creature still there, curled up and watching. But there was nothing. The couch was empty. The room looked just like it always did, bathed in the comforting light of day. The normalcy of the morning felt surreal. Mom was already in the kitchen, humming to herself as she made breakfast. Dad was at the table, buried in his newspaper. Neither of them seemed any different, oblivious to the fact that something extraordinary and terrifying had invaded our home last night. Morning, I muttered, trying to sound normal. Good morning, sleepy head, mom replied cheerfully.

Did you stay up late reading again? Uh, something like that, I said, grabbing a bowl and pouring myself some cereal. The day dragged on. I went through the motions at school, my mind constantly wandering back to those haunting eyes. I tried telling a couple of friends about what I saw, but they laughed it off, suggesting it was just a bad dream, or that I'd watch too many horror movies. Maybe they were right, but I couldn't shake the feeling of what I'd seen. After school, I headed straight to the library. I figured if there was any truth to what I saw, there might be records or similar stories.

I dove into local history books, folklore, and even online forums, searching for anything that sounds. like the creature in our living room. I found stories of shadow people, urban legends of creatures that visit you at night, but nothing matched perfectly with what I saw. My search did uncover a few posts from people in nearby areas who talked about eerie encounters with inexplicable entities. But again, nothing concrete.

That night, as I lay in bed, the house felt different. The normal night sounds of creaking and settling seemed ominous. seemed ominous. I decided to keep a flashlight in my old camera next to my bed, just in case. Maybe I could catch a photo or just feel a bit safer. Reflecting on my fear, I realized that my lifelong curiosity about the paranormal had never been truly tested. Now that it had, I wasn't sure how I felt. I was scared, yes, but also incredibly curious. What was that thing? Why did it come here? sleep was slow to come as I pondered these questions and I realized that my fascination had shifted

it wasn't about thrill-seeking anymore I needed answers I needed to know if what I saw was real and if so why it came to visit me was it just passing through or was it something more I decided then that I wouldn't just wait for it to come back I would look for it cautiously but I needed to know And as I finally drifted off to sleep, a part of me couldn't help but feel a strange excitement alongside the fear. Whatever was going to happen, I was going to face it head on.

Spring just slid into your DMs. Grab that boho look for that rooftop dinner, those sandals that can keep up with you, and hang some string lights to give your patio a glow up. Spring's calling. Ross, work your magic. I've always thought of myself as part of the woods on my dad's property in rural Westwood. Virginia. With its steep cliffs, deep caves, and thick forests, I grew up exploring every inch of it, or so I believed. But a few years back, I discovered that some secrets are hidden, even in the places

we think we know best. It started subtly enough, almost innocuously. Nightly sounds that didn't fit the usual chorus of wildlife began to intrude into the familiar. The first few times I brushed them off as the wind, or maybe a coyote with a strange howl. But as the days passed, these sounds grew stranger, more unsettling, a mix of cries and howls that didn't belong to any animal I knew. At first light, I'd head out with my rifle, expecting the normalcy of my routine hunts to quell my unease. Yet the forests seemed to tighten around me, as if keeping a secret. Then I started finding them, the carcasses, deer mostly, and some rabbits. all torn up in a way that made little sense.

Half-eaten, mutilated, left to rot under the cover of the brush. It wasn't like any predator I knew. Predators kill to eat, to survive. This was different, gruesome and wasteful. I remember the chill that ran through me the day I found the first deer. It was as if whatever had done this was playing a sick game. I could handle the sight of blood and death. I had to as a hunter, but this was different.

It felt wrong. I told myself it was just another predator, maybe a sick bear, marking its territory in a new, violent way. But deep down I knew these weren't ordinary animal behaviors. The forest felt different, like eyes were watching, following my every move. I tried shaking the feeling off, blaming it on my imagination. That was until the evening that changed everything. I was up in my tree stand that evening, the sun dipping low, casting long shadows through the undergrowth. It was the perfect time to catch deer wandering through. My eyes scanned the foliage,

searching for any sign of movement. That's when I saw it, something pale flickering between the trees. At first glance, I thought it might be another hunter, maybe a poacher. But as my eyes adjusted, I realized it was no human. It moved all wrong, its limbs too long, and its movements too erratic. It scuttled like a spider, darting from tree to tree with unnatural speed. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. The creature paused, and for a moment it felt like the world held its breath. It was vaguely man-shaped, but everything about it was distorted, wrong. And then, its head turned, and I swear it looked right at me with pale, lifeless eyes.

I sat there frozen, not even daring to breathe. The creature stared for a moment longer, then vanished into the growing darkness. I didn't climb down from my tree stand until the night was fully upon me, and when I did, I moved quickly, my eyes darting to every shadow, every rustle of leaves. Back at home, I didn't know what to do. I knew telling anyone would sound crazy. Who would believe such a story? It sounded like something out of a horror movie.

not something that could happen in these familiar woods, but I couldn't deny what I had seen. I needed answers. That night, under the dim light of my desk lamp, I began to search for anything, any legend or story that matched the horror I had witnessed. What I found was more disturbing than I could have imagined. After that evening, the woods were never the same for me. They had always been my escape, a place where I felt at home. But now, they held a sense of it. of foreboding, a whisper of something sinister lurking in the shadows. Despite my fear, I knew I couldn't let it go. I had to find out what that creature was, even if part of me dreaded what I might discover. I started by setting up trail cameras and motion sensors

around the areas where I had seen the creature and found the mutilated animals. Each night, I reviewed the footage, hoping for a glimpse of something that would give me answers but expecting nothing. Days turned into weeks with no sign of the creature. The forest seemed to mock me, staying silent, as if it had swallowed the secret hole. But I couldn't shake the obsession. I spent every spare moment in the woods, eyes peeled for any anomaly, any hint of pale skin or unnatural movement. Then it happened again. I was sitting hidden in the underbrush near a clearing where I had found one of the carcasses. The air was thick with the musky sea. The air was thick with the musky scent of damp earth, and my body tensed with every rustle of the leaves. Suddenly, there it was,

at the edge of the clearing, the crawler. It was crouched over something, the body of a deer, its form grotesque and otherworldly. Its skin seemed almost translucent in the dim light, and its limbs twitched and jerked in unsettling ways. My breath caught in my throat as I watched, unable to move, unable to look away. The creature lifted its head, and its milky white eyes seemed to pierce through the shadows, straight into mine. A shiver ran down my spine as it let out a high-pitched whale

that echoed through the trees, a sound so chilling it seemed to freeze the very air. My hand trembled as I raised my rifle, the weight of it both a comfort and a curse. But before I could steady my aim, the crawler vanished, disappearing into the woods as quickly as it had appeared. It moved with a horrifying grace,

leaving only the rustling of leaves in a lingering sense of dread. I lowered my rifle, my heart pounding in my ears. I was both relieved and disappointed. Part of me had wanted to end it, to rid the woods of this nightmare, but another part feared what killing it might bring. The encounter left me shaken, but it also sparked a realization.

This creature, as terrifying as, it was belonged to these woods. It wasn't some supernatural being. It was a part of the ecosystem here, as natural as the trees and the streams. It was a predator, albeit a strange and frightening one. My obsession began to wane after that. I still went to the woods, but less often, and not with the same purpose. I removed the cameras and stopped looking for the crawler. It seemed pointless, chasing shadows that refuse to be caught. Nowadays, I don't talk about the crawler much. It feels like a chapter of my life that's closed,

a strange, dark tale that's best left in the past. But sometimes, when the night is still in the forest whispers, I think about it. I wonder if it's still out there, moving through the trees, a ghostly presence in the twilight. I know what I saw was real, at least to me. It's a part of those woods, and now a part of those woods. and now a part of me.

Sometimes I even miss the thrill of the hunt, the mystery, but mostly I'm content to let the woods keep their secrets, as they've always done. Some things work better together, like Nars's soft matte complete concealer and radiant creamy concealer. Soft matte complete concealer erases and blurs imperfections with full coverage. Then, radiant creamy concealer evens and brightens with a luxurious texture and radiant finish. Two concealers, one flawless look.

Perfect for a no foundation base. Nars, better together. Visit Sephora to shop now. I had a friend named Felix. A few years back, we had a sleepover together and something happened. Our parents are great friends, so they agreed for us to have a sleepover at his place. However, when I told my other friends, they were a bit skeptical, as I'm a girl and Felix is a boy. We were 13 years old and we never had those kinds of intentions.

His parents were gone, and it was only us, his older brother, and his brother's friend, who were both 17 at the time. His older brother, Bastion, and Bastion's friend Lucas were told to watch us, so we didn't get up to no good. Looking back now, we definitely weren't the reason all this happened. Now, Felix and Bastion's place was fairly big. It was two stories tall and had a basement below that. The place was also surrounded by woods.

the bedroom we stayed in was on the highest floor. It was actually Bastion's room, as Felix's room was in the basement, and I simply refused to sleep down there as I hated basements. You never know what lurks in the dark. Hey, Finn, do you like Fast and Furious? Lucas asked after we were all settled on the bed, and had two air mattresses on the floor for me and Felix. Lucas never called me by my full first with an emotional name.

He said he thought Finn was cuter. Yeah, I do. I answered. Yeah, Lucas yelled, and I don't think I ever saw someone put on a movie so fast. One movie later, Bastion mentioned he was hungry. He said he would order something to eat and asked what we wanted. Can we have pizza? A half-asleep Felix asked as he rubbed his eyes.

Sure thing, Sleeping Beauty, Bastion chuckled. A few minutes later, he finished his order and told us that he and Lucas would be driving to go get the pizza. All right, you two. You know the drill. don't open the door to strangers, don't burn down the house, blah, blah, blah, Lucas babbled as they walked out of the room. Hey, Finn, Felix said next to me in a very tired voice.

Can you stay awake while I take a nap? That basically meant, can you keep guard while I sleep because I'm scared something will happen? Yeah, sure, I answered, and soon I heard lights snoring next to me. So I put on a TV show and relaxed. Normally it would take around an hour and a half for the guys to get to the pizza place and come back altogether, so I was surprised when I began to hear knocking from the entryway door. From the room window, you could see the front door. I was just about to go downstairs to open the door, but then realized one thing.

The boys had a key. They would not have to knock. I then heard a voice that didn't sound quite like Lucas, but it tried to be. Finn opened the door. It couldn't be him. He never called me by my full first name, not even when he was angry. I froze and held my breath. The only things that could be heard then were Felix's light snoring and someone outside calling to me. Come on, it's me, it's Lucas. I felt scared, but also mad. I was scared for obvious reasons,

but the anger was from the fact that someone was trying to imitate a good friend of mine. But then came a new voice, one that I didn't expect. Sweetheart, it's us. We've come to pick you up, my mother said. What in the world, I thought? I heard the voice come again, asking for me to open up the door, then the same request this time from the Lucas voice. Did that mean there were two entities outside, two people trying to break in, imitating my loved one's voices, but the voices were eerily similar. Were they even human? Suddenly, I heard Felix waking up. I rushed back to him. He heard, he heard, he heard, he heard, the voices then too. I covered his mouth quickly to quiet him down. I didn't want him to respond. He just looked at me with wide blue eyes, as if trying to ask me what the heck was going on. I put a finger to my mouth, motioning him to stay quiet, and he nodded. I removed my hand, and he whispered, Who the heck is that? Why are they trying so hard to sound like Lucas and your mom? I replied, Don't freak out. I don't know.

Suddenly, we began to hear scratching at the door. I slowly, and I mean very slowly, got up and walked over to the window. That's when I saw them. Three figures at the front door. I could only see parts and silhouettes as it was so dark, but the light being cast from the porch light helped a bit. They were all quite tall, and each of them had arms that seemed way too long for their bodies. I couldn't see their faces, but they did appear to have not eaten for some.

some time. They just looked wrong, and they definitely weren't my mom or Lucas or Bastion. I was so terrified then and confused. I stood frozen there. Felix, call your brother right now, but be quiet, I whispered. He did as I said, and I began to cautiously retreat to the bed where we had just been happily sitting and laughing only an hour ago. Felix, I heard Bastion's voice answer. He was completely unaware of what was going on at his own home. I mean, how could he? How could he know? I took the phone and whispered in a shaky voice. Bastion, there's someone or something outside. They're pretending to be Lucas and my mom. They're trying to get in. I was on the verge of tears. What? Finn, show me, he said. I stood up again and went to the window. I turned the camera

and pointed it outside. I heard him gasp. I turned back and sat next to Felix, who was under a blanket now. I got under it with him and began to cry quietly. Okay, listen. We're on the way home. We'll be there in 15 minutes. Stay quiet and keep the doors locked. After the longest 15 minutes of my life, I heard a car pull into the driveway. I then heard the door unlock, and when I saw Bastion and Lucas, I was so happy. Bastion called his parents, telling them I'd had a panic attack. He lied, of course. We agreed it was probably best not to tell anyone what happened. At worst, we simply watched a scary movie and freaked ourselves out, but I know what we experienced. I don't think I'll ever forget those voices.

I've been seeing, hearing, and feeling things since as far back as I can remember. The earliest memory I have of something paranormal is my own imaginary friend. Growing up, I had my middle sister who's only two years younger than me, but as anyone with siblings knows, Sometimes you both don't want to play outside or do what the other one is doing. So when that happened, I would play with my friend, a friend I called Mary. At first, my parents thought nothing of Mary, just that I had an active imagination, kids being kids. I would play cops and robbers, run through the woods, even have tea parties with Mary.

To me, she was just another kid who wanted a friend. One day in September 1998, my seven-year-old self decided I wanted to build a friend. a fort. Mary and I built a fort using mine and my sister's blankets, and even my mom and dad's blanket off their bed. It was huge, and I remember playing in there all day. Even my sister joined us at one point. Now, my sister couldn't see Mary, and a lot of times that fact upset me, but Mary would always tell me she was there because she knew I needed her. I would smile and just keep playing, not thinking much of it. One night, not long after the fort, I was lying. I was lying, in bed. My sister and I shared a room at the time, so my twin bed was on one side of the window

while hers was on the other. From my bed, I could look into my parents' room, and if their bedroom door was open, I could see into the living room just past the front door. I remember being sleepy and closing my eyes after my dad read us a story. I don't know how long I slept before waking back up. I just remember waking up. It was late and still dark out. I lay there awake, when I began to hear walking. My mom was a night shift nurse at the time, so I first assumed she woke up to go to the bathroom or get some water, maybe even to get ready for work.

I sat up to look when my breath caught in my throat. Standing in my parents' doorway was a tall, misty figure. It looked feminine, but I couldn't see the face, only an outline. I lay back down, threw my blanket over my head like any kid, and began to cry quietly. A few days before, when I'd built my fort, I had accidentally put a hole in my blanket, so I shifted myself under my blanket so I could look at the figure without having to uncover my head. I saw the misty figure beginning to float towards my parents' bed, where I knew my dad was sleeping.

It then knelt next to him. The figure stayed there for a long time, not making any sounds, just kind of hovering next to my dad. When it finally stood up, the figure floated into my room. going between mine and my sister's beds, before disappearing into the wall next to mine. I remember crying and wanting to get up, and Mary was next to me. She got in my bed and told me we should rest, that she would be there for me when I needed her. I woke up the next morning telling my dad and mom everything, even my grandma. While my mother, who was skeptical, brushed it off, my grandma and dad searched the house.

Then my grandma asked me to describe Mary to her. I told her my friend was an African-American girl close to my age. Her hair was braided in two pigtails, and her clothes were kind of weird, like an old flower sack. I said that she had a mark over her right eye, like a scar I got when I fell off my bike. My grandma looked at me, and I swear I thought she was going to cry. My dad looked at my grandma and asked if she was okay.

My grandma wouldn't tell me then, but later in life, she would explain to me that the description, I gave her was the same as her friend who had gotten killed while they were playing in the woods when my grandma was just a little girl. The figure I saw, nobody understood what it was, until one day in late October of the same year. My sister and I left for school, telling my dad and my mom goodbye. My mom was heading off to work, and my dad was off for the day, so he lay back down to take a nap after we got on the bus. But that would be the last. last time I ever spoke to my dad. He passed away in his sleep that day, and when I got home from

school, everyone was at my house. I didn't understand at first, until I saw Mary in my room, and I asked her what happened. She told me that my dad was in a better place, that she would stay with me until I no longer needed her. After this experience, I would have vivid dreams. I dreamed of people passing away before they passed away. Two years after this, in May of 2001, I had a dream about my papa, my dad's dad, and he passed away shortly after. Once I turned 11 or so, I stopped seeing Mary, but I still to this day have these dreams. The most recent one was about my uncle and my boyfriend's mom back in 2022. I even dreamt of losing my child before I ever found out I was pregnant. I'm not sure if it's just coincidence, or maybe I have a gift or curse. But sometimes the dreams I have are not

pleasant, nor are they nice. Sometimes I don't want to keep dreaming. Either way, I guess I feel haunted sometimes because the shadows and figures I see in my dreams have started to show up while I'm awake. Has anyone else ever dealt with something like this? Honestly, I really just want some clarification or answers. Is something wrong with me? I sold my car in Carvana last night. Well, that's cool. No, you don't understand. It went perfectly. Real offer, down to the penny. They're picking it up tomorrow.

Nothing went wrong. So, what's the problem? That is the problem. Nothing in my life goes to smoothie. I'm waiting for the catch. Maybe there's no catch. That's exactly what a catch would want me to think. Wow, you need to relax.

I need a knock on wood. Do we have wood? Is this table wood? I think it's laminated. Okay, yeah, that's good. That's close enough. Car selling without a catch. So your car today on...

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