Just Creepy: Scary Stories - Scary Deep Woods Horror Stories That Will Give You NIGHTMARES

Episode Date: October 28, 2024

These are 6 Scary Deep Woods Horror Stories That Will Give You NIGHTMARES Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: ►Sent in to https://www.justcreepy.net/ Timestamps: 00:00 Intro 00:00:18 Story 1 00:10:01 Story 2 00:21:12 Story 3 00:31:11 Story 4 00:41:10 Story 5 00:52:34 Story 6 Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #horrorstories #compilation #skinwalker #deepwoods #nationalpark 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀

This is a Bose moment. You've been there before. Somebody's apartment, small talk that's going nowhere, plastic up that's almost empty. It's not great. Then someone hits play on a Bose speaker. Heads nod, feet tap, one person dances than everyone does. Awkward becomes electric.

When Bose sound fills the room, you don't just hear the music. You feel it. Your life deserves music. Your music deserves Bose. Find your perfect product at bows.com. You said this place for you. Steps from the water. We just haven't found the steps yet.

How much did we save? Enough. Enough to get lost. Or you could book a stay with Hilton. Welcome to your ocean front room. Just steps from the water. The Hilton sale is on now. Book on Hilton.com or the Hilton app

and save up to 20% to get the stay you expected. When you want savings, not surprises. It matters where you stay. Hilton, for the stay. Transport your senses with Sol de Janeiro's limited edition perfume mist collection at Sephora. Sprits on lush notes of rainforest orchid and crisp sea breeze with Hefresco Paraiso. Embrace a floral and fruity scent inspired by Rio's nude beach with cheeky bikini. Or capture sun-kissed bliss with limonada gelada, where zesty Brazilian lemonade accord meets coconut milk and golden brown sugar.

Don't miss Sol de Janeiro's limited edition perfume mist collection only at Sephora. The ranch seemed bigger at sunset, the shadows stretching long across the fields. Dad had given me a big job that evening, one he didn't usually let me handle alone. Lucas, I need that patch of trees cleared out, he said. It's way out on the edge of our property. Pays good if you get it done. He offered more money than usual, and I knew why. Those woods were thick and wild, a place we rarely went.

But I was saving up for a truck. so I figured it'd be worth it. I packed my gear that night and set my alarm for the crack of dawn. The morning sun was already high by the time I loaded up the truck. Chainsaw, gas, lunch, and my camping gear. Dad said I might need to stay overnight, just in case. I didn't mind. It was just trees.

How scary could it be? The drive was rough, bumpier than usual, and the trees started to close in as I went farther. Branches clawed at the sides of the truck, and the sunlight seemed to fade as I got deeper into the woods. Finally, I reached the clearing, an overgrown patch of wild trees. It was quiet, so quiet that I could hear my own breathing. I took a moment to look around, feeling a strange, prickling sensation on the back of my neck, like someone was watching. But when I turned, nothing was there. I shook off the feeling and got to work. The chainsaw roared to life, echoing through the empty woods as I cut the first few trees.

It felt good to be working, and I soon forgot the odd feeling. But as the hours passed, weird things started happening. One tree I cut just... Disappeared. I swear I'd cut it down. The stump was there, cleanly sliced, but the tree itself was nowhere to be seen. I walked around, looking in every direction, but it was gone. I shook my head, convincing myself I must have dragged it off without realizing.

Then as I took a break, the strange feeling returned, only stronger. I felt like someone was right there, just outside my line of sight. I turned quickly, but all I saw were the trees and shadows. And then I heard it. Faint, but unmistakable. Laughter. It was almost like a whisper carried by the wind. It had to be in my head, I told myself.

I was alone. But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the feeling wouldn't go away. I tried to keep working, focusing on the next tree, but every time I glanced up, the shadows seemed closer, like they were shifting when I wasn't looking. The sun started to sink, casting the whole clearing in an eerie golden light that somehow made the woods seem even more haunting. When night finally fell, I decided to set up camp and finish the job in the morning. I built a small fire, hoping it'd keep whatever was out there away. But as I sat there, staring into the dark woods, I felt that prickling sensation again, stronger than ever. It felt like eyes were watching from every shadow, waiting for me to make the wrong move. The forest, once a place of freedom,

felt like it was closing in, holding its breath, just waiting. Darkness settled over the clearing, swallowing up everything beyond the light of my little fire. I sat close to the flames, but the warmth didn't do much to shake off the strange chill that had crept over me. It felt like the woods were alive somehow, breathing with a slow, heavy rhythm I could almost feel. The shadows cast by the fire danced around, but each time I looked, they seemed to stop, freezing as if they didn't want me to notice. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was just my mind playing tricks. As I ate dinner, I heard it again, a soft rustling just outside the light. I shone my flashlight around, but all I could see were trees, thick and looming like they were pressing in on me.

Then, out of nowhere, came a sound that made my blood turn to ice. Faint, but unmistakable. Laughter. It sounded like someone was just beyond the fire's edge, laughing softly, like they were watching me and finding this all very funny. I called out, my voice shaky. Silence, not a single sound, just the crackling of the fire and my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. I grabbed my flashlight, shining it through the trees, but there was nothing there. I tried to calm myself down, telling myself it had to be the wind. But deep down, I knew it wasn't. I sat back down by the fire, trying to focus on staying warm,

staying alert. But the strange feeling of being watched kept crawling over me, making it impossible to relax. I didn't want to think about what could be out there, lurking just beyond the trees, hiding in the shadows. The stories Dad had told me when I was little,

about things in the woods, things that weren't just animals, flooded my mind, and I found myself glancing over my shoulder every few seconds. Finally, after what felt like hours, I crawled into my tent, hoping I could block it all out and sleep.

But no sooner had I zipped up the tent than a loud thump jolted me awake. I froze, listening hard, every nerve in my body on high alert. The sound came from right by the truck and it was followed by what I could only describe as breathing, slow, heavy breaths, close, far too close.

My hand trembled as I unzipped the tent just a tiny crack, peeking out into the moonlit clearing. Everything looked still, the truck and trailer parked right where I'd left them, but then I saw it, just a glimpse of a shadow, tall and thin, slipping behind a tree. My heart raced as I tried to tell myself it was nothing, just my imagination, but deep down, I knew better. I tried to sleep, but every sound outside made me jump.

The laughter was gone, but the breathing was still there, steady and closer than ever. I didn't dare move. I lay there, stiff as a board, eyes wide open, listening, feeling the forest close in around me, like it was waiting for me to make one wrong move. I barely made it through the night. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt that heavy breathing, closer than before. When the first hint of dawn broke, I scrambled out of the tent, packed up in record time, and jumped into the truck, ready to leave.

My hands were shaking so bad it took a few tries to get the keys in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and I took off, leaving the forest and whatever was in it behind me. When I got home, I didn't tell Dad the whole story, just that I'd had trouble with the trailer and didn't feel like staying out overnight. He looked at me a bit funny, probably because I must have looked like I hadn't slept in days, but he didn't push. He only told me we'd go back in the morning to retrieve the trailer I'd left behind. The drive back to the clearing felt slower than.

ever. Everything looked different in daylight, almost normal. The shadows were gone, and the trees didn't seem to close in the same way, but my heart wouldn't stop pounding. I could feel that unease creeping back, reminding me of every sound, every breath I'd heard in the dark. When we reached the clearing, the trailer was exactly where I'd left it, still loaded with logs. I helped dad hook it up to the truck, but as we worked, I felt eyes on me again. I glanced at the trees, and for a split second, I could have sworn I saw a shadow moving, tall and thin, slipping behind a tree. I tried to ignore it, telling myself it was just my imagination, but it was hard to shake the

feeling that we weren't alone. On the drive home, the image of that shadow stuck in my head, and I felt the need to know what I'd seen. That night, after Dad went to bed, I crept into his study. He kept a lot of old books in there, mostly about history. but some were about local legends and folklore. I hadn't paid much attention to them before, but I pulled one off the shelf,

flipping through until something caught my eye, a chapter on creatures that supposedly lurked in the deep woods. My hands trembled as I read. The creature described was called the lurker, a twisted, shadowy figure said to prey on people who wandered alone into the woods. It was known for hiding behind trees, staying just out of sight, and following its victim silently.

patiently. I thought of the laughter, the breathing, and that shadow slipping through the trees. I felt a chill run down my spine. The next day, I mentioned it to Dad, careful to act like it was no big deal. He looked at me strangely, and then told me that my great-grandfather used to talk about creatures like that, shadows in the woods that no one could explain. He said some locals still refuse to go too deep into the forest at night. And now I understood why. Now every time I pass the edge of our property, I feel it, the same prickling, the same heavy feeling, like someone's watching. And I know, deep down, that something's out there lurking in the shadows, waiting, and I won't be going back anytime soon. Yamava Resort and Casino at San Manuel is California's

number one entertainment destination for today's superstars. Catch the The Jonas Brothers returned to the Yamava Theater stage on April 30th, the powerful vocals of Demi Lovato on May 17th, and the signature Southern Country Rock of Eric Church on July 19th. Tickets on sale now at Yamavah Theater.com, only at Yamava Resort and Casino, celebrating its 40th anniversary. You in? Must be 21 to enter. I'd walk these trails my whole life. The Appalachian Mountains were the kind of place you learned to respect, quiet, ancient, and always watching. I thought I knew every bend and trail marker, each trick of light that made it seem darker than it really was. But when I saw that unfamiliar path stretching off to the right, narrow and barely there, I hesitated.

I don't know what compelled me to step onto it. Maybe it was the way the trees curved over, or maybe something about the silence that seemed even quieter than usual. So against my better judgment, I turned and walked into the unknown. After a few steps, the forest grew. denser, and I could barely see the sky through the thick branches. The air had an odd metallic tang, like blood or rust, sharp enough to sting the back of my throat. The trees around me were blackened and twisted. Some bent so far their trunks nearly touched the ground. Each one looked scorched, as if fire had once swept through here and stopped in the middle of nowhere. I stopped, taking in the silence, a heavy, wading sort of quiet, as if even the birds had learned

to steer clear. Then I saw it. A massive open wound in the forest floor, a crater so deep I could barely see the bottom. Chard roots jutted from its sides clawing toward the center where something strange glinted in the sunlight. I moved closer, my footsteps muffled by the blackened dirt. As I reached the edge, I saw what had caught the light. It was a book, a small leather journal resting right in the heart of the pit. Something about it made my skin prickle. But I couldn't leave it behind. I lowered myself into the crater, hands digging into the loose earth as I slid down.

The journal was cold when I picked it up, colder than it should have been. The leather was old, worn, and cracked, with the words fallen kingdom, faintly embossed on the cover. Flipping it open, I saw sketches, disturbing ones. Trees twisted into unnatural shapes,

strange symbols carved into stones, and creatures drawn in head. heavy shadowed lines. Each page seemed to pulse with something dark, something that didn't belong in the light, and then, scrawled on one of the pages, was a name, Lewis Caldwell. My blood ran cold. I knew that name. Lewis Caldwell was my uncle, the one who had disappeared into these woods nearly twenty years ago. They'd searched, combed every trail and hollow, but never found a trace of him. And yet, here was his journal, as if it had been waiting for me to find it. I looked up, suddenly feeling exposed, like eyes were pressing in from the forest's edge.

Shadows moved, just at the edge of my vision, shapes that didn't match any animal I knew. The air turned even colder, carrying a faint whisper that might have been the wind but felt too deliberate. My legs tensed, and I scrambled up the side of the crater, clutching the journal tight. I could feel something watching me, something that knew I'd take in its secret. A shiver ran down my spine, and I felt the forest close in around me, its silence heavy and almost expectant. I walked fast, nearly jogging, with the journal weighing heavy in my hands. Every breaking twig made me jump. Every gust of wind felt like a warning. By the time I reached the main trail, my heart was racing, and I glanced back one last time. The trees stood silent as if they'd

never seen me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was already marked. The next night, I couldn't sleep. The forest seemed to press in tighter around the cabin, thick and stifling, a silent watcher waiting just out of reach. I'd been pouring over the journal all afternoon, reading Lewis's scrawled notes until the words blurred on the page, feeling him in every line. The terror he must have felt, the disbelief. His sketches filled the margins, crude drawings of things he'd seen out here. Creatures that hid between the trees, half-formed faces peering from twisted shadows,

and one note repeated, over and over in his jagged heavy handwriting, never look behind you. I don't know why I stayed. Some combination of curiosity and loyalty maybe. A pull to know the truth about Lewis. Whatever it was, it made me ignore the quiet voice in my head

screaming for me to leave. Instead I shut the journal, pocketed my flashlight, and stepped out into the night. The darkness swallowed me whole. The trees were just towering shadows, gnarled arms reaching up to block out the thin slice of moonlight. I walked down the path toward the clearing, feeling my way like a blind man. Everything seemed sharper at night, the rustle of leaves, the whisper of the wind threading through the branches. I kept my steps light, almost unwilling to disturb the sight. silence. That's when I heard it. A faint crunch, somewhere close, like leaves underfoot. I froze,

straining to listen. The sound came again, deliberate and slow, circling me. I didn't dare turn, didn't want to know what might be watching me from behind. Lewis's words rang in my ears. Never look behind you. I kept moving, telling myself it was just the wind or some animal moving through the underbrush. but deep down I knew. I felt it, a weight just outside my line of sight, something following, keeping time with my steps. My hand tightened on the flashlight in my pocket, but I didn't dare pull it out. It felt like an admission, like if I turned on the light, whatever was out there would know I knew it was there. The footsteps grew louder, each one sinking into the silence, drawing closer.

My skin prickled with every crunch of the leaves. every crack of a twig. I took another step, holding my breath, and that's when I heard it, a whisper, soft but clear, calling my name. A shiver clawed up my spine, icy fingers twisting through my gut. I kept my eyes fixed ahead, my pulse hammering in my ears, but that whisper, God, it sounded so close, like someone standing just behind me, leaning in, breath warm against my neck. I could feel its presence, the space it took up in the dark, a cold, patient shadow. I forced myself to move forward, each step dragging against the weight of that whisper. It followed, relentless, echoing in the silent trees. My mind raced, replaying the stories

I'd read in Lewis's journal, of shadows that take shape, creatures that wait in the dark. I'd thought it was his imagination, his fear. Now I wasn't so sure. Finally, I saw the cabin through the trees, its outline a lifeline in the blackness. I didn't look back, not even when the footsteps stopped, fading into the night, the forest falling silent once more. But I felt it, even as I crossed the threshold and bolted the door. Whatever was out there wasn't gone. It was waiting.

I didn't wait for morning. Something about the stillness felt too heavy, like the forest was holding its breath. waiting for me to make a mistake. I packed my things, hands shaking as I zipped up my bag, and jammed the journal into my coat pocket. The cabin walls seemed to close in, pressing me toward the door. I'd told myself I'd find answers here, but all I'd found was fear. Whatever was out there, it wasn't something I could make sense of, or confront. It was something older, something that didn't want me here. Stepping outside, the cold night air hit me like a a slap. My flashlight barely cut through the dark, the beam bouncing as my hands trembled.

The silence felt thicker tonight, heavier. I walked fast, telling myself I just needed to make it to the main trail. Then it would be fine. But I could feel it, that presence lurking somewhere behind me, out of sight but not out of mind. My heartbeat echoed in my ears, drowning out the crunch of my boots on the dirt. That's when I heard it, a low, throaty growl, rumbling from deep in the woods. It was close, far too close, and it wasn't the sound of any animal I'd ever heard before. I froze, gripping the flashlight, its feeble light trembling as I held it out toward the sound. The darkness shifted, like something moving just beyond the beam's reach, and I could make out the vague outline of antlers twisting into the sky, forming a grotesque crown above all.

hulking shadow. My breath caught as I saw those eyes, burning yellow, fixed on me, holding me there like prey caught in a trap. My legs moved before I knew what I was doing. I turned and ran, tearing down the trail as fast as I could, the journal thumping against my chest with each step. I could hear it behind me, its massive steps heavy and deliberate, closing the distance. Branches lashed at my face, thorns scraping my arms, but I kept going, heart-pouring sounding, lungs burning. The trail twisted and I stumbled, nearly losing my footing. When I looked up, my heart sank. I was back at the crater, the very place I'd tried to leave behind. The beast loomed at the edge of the pit, its shadow spilling over the earth, waiting. Its

eyes glowed brighter, and a sickening growl rolled from its throat, reverberating through the ground. I backed away but the ground was loose, crumbling beneath my boots. Panic gripped me, and for a moment I thought I'd tumble into the pit. I reached into my pocket and gripped the journal, clinging to Lewis's words like a lifeline. There was a phrase he'd scrawled, a desperate incantation he'd used to keep the shadows at bay. My voice was barely a whisper, but I forced the words out, repeating them over and over. My voice growing louder as the beast drew closer. For a moment, the creature paused, as if the words had struck it.

Its yellow eyes flickered just for an instant, and I took my chance. I scrambled up the edge of the crater, lunged forward, and bolted through the trees. My legs felt like they'd give out at any second, but I kept moving, tearing through the forest, every breath ragged. When I finally saw the main trail ahead, I didn't look back. I burst out of the trees, collapsing on the dirt path, the forest's silence crashing down like a wall. The Appalachian Mountains stood behind me, still and silent, but I knew it wasn't finished. I could feel it, waiting for the next time I dared to return. And part of me knew, if I did, I'd never leave again.

A text says, you're on my mind. A bouquet from 1,800 flowers says, you're my everything. Heartfelt moments belong in the real world, not just your phone. For 50 years, 1-800 Flowers has helped millions of people make memories that'll last a lifetime, with gifts they'll cherish forever. Their expertly curated arrangements and gift baskets shipped nationwide with a 100% satisfaction guarantee. Don't wait for the next big moment. Make it when you visit 1-800flowers.com slash Spotify today. That's 1-800flowers.com slash Spotify.

When I got to the reservation that summer, I couldn't wait to see my cousins. Everything out here was different. The trees were bigger. The air smelled fresher, and it was way quieter than the city. My cousins, Lucas, Sarah, and Eli were already waiting for me on the front porch, and from the look on Lucas's face, I knew he had something planned. It was after dinner, and we were sitting on the porch, just watching the sun dipped down behind the trees.

The adults were inside, talking and laughing like they always did. I hadn't been back for long when Lucas leaned in close and whispered, What if we go camping tonight? Sarah frowned immediately. You know Grandma and Grandpa wouldn't want us out there after dark, she said, looking toward the house. They've told us like a million times. Don't go in the woods at night. Lucas shrugged, giving us his usual grin. That's why we won't tell them.

I felt a nervous thrill at the idea. We could just ask, You know, I suggested, even though I already knew what Lucas would say. They'll just say no, he replied, waving a hand. Come on, it'll be fun. We'll set up a tent, tell some stories, and come back before sunrise. They won't even know. Eli, who was only 11, looked really nervous.

What if we get caught? he asked, glancing toward the house. Sarah glanced over at me trying to make up her mind. I was excited, but there was a part of me that didn't feel quite right. But then I thought, what's the worst that could happen? All the kids my age at school would say something like Yolo. All right, I said finally, but we have to be careful. Eli sighed, but eventually agreed too, even though he still looked worried. When midnight came, we waited until the adults were all asleep.

We could hear our grandparents snoring from their bedroom as we crept past the door, trying not to step on any of the old floorboards that creaked. Then, quietly as we could, we slipped out the back door and into the cool night air. As we walked through the forest, everything felt different. By daylight we knew this path like the backs of our hands, but now it seemed darker, even with the moon shining through the trees. Every sound felt louder, every shadow a little creepier. A branch snapped somewhere to our left, and we all jumped, but Lucas laughed it off,

trying to keep the mood light. After about 20 minutes, we made it to the creek, where there was a little clearing surrounded by trees. We set up the tent, which was harder than it looked without a light. Once we finally got it standing, we huddled around a small battery-powered lantern. Its soft glow was just enough to light our faces, but everything outside our circle seemed pitch black. Lucas rubbed his hands together with a grin. All right, who's got a good story? Sarah's eyes gleam, in the dim light. I've got one. Have you guys ever heard of the Raven Mocker? Eli hugged his knees. I don't like that one. But Lucas just leaned closer, his eyes full of excitement. We sat in a tight circle around the little lantern. Our face is half lit, shadows flickering across

the tent walls. Sarah leaned in, her eyes serious. The Raven Mocker is a spirit that steals the hearts of the dying, she began. It takes the years they would have had to live longer itself. She paused, glancing at each of us. It can look like a raven, or even like a person, but only medicine men can see it in its true form. Eli's face was pale. Do we have to talk about this? He whispered, looking around like he expected something to swoop out of the dark. Lucas grinned. Oh, come on, Eli, it's just a story, but I could tell even he was a little nervous. Besides, I've got one that's even scarier. He leaned in close, lowering his voice.

Have you guys heard of the dear woman? Sarah rolled her eyes, but I couldn't help but shiver as he started. They say she looks like a beautiful woman to trick people into following her into the woods. But once she's got you far enough away, she changes. Lucas paused for effect, his eyes wide. She has hooves for feet and a face like a stag. I glanced at the shadows outside, swallowing hard. The idea of something pretending to be human was creepy,

and the thought of her wandering somewhere out in the dark made me feel like we weren't alone. All right, enough, Eli said, clutching his knees. Can we talk about something else? I decided to jump in, hoping to lighten the mood. What about the legend of the star people, I said? They're supposed to be peaceful. They come from the stars to teach people wisdom.

them. They're not scary at all. Lucas rolled his eyes. That's lame, Ben. He looked around, his face dead serious now. My grandpa told me something once, something he swore was real. Sarah's expression darkened. Lucas don't. But Lucas leaned in, undeterred. He said when he was our age, he saw a skinwalker. The tent fell silent. We all knew about skinwalkers, but we'd never really talked about them before. Even the elders didn't like to mention them. them. A skinwalker is a witch, Lucas continued, his voice barely above a whisper, who can turn into animals to do dark magic. My grandpa was outgathering wood with his dad, but somehow they got separated. Then, in the middle of the clearing, he saw a coyote standing on two legs, staring right at

him. Lucas don't, Sarah whispered, but she looked just as curious as I felt. Lucas kept going, His face pale. He thought he was seeing things, but then the coyote started walking toward him, its body twisting and changing. Lucas shivered. It had the face of a man stretched tight over its skull, and it whispered his name. Eli whimpered, clutching my arm. I think we should go to sleep, I suggested, my voice shaky. Just as we started to settle down, I heard a sound outside, a soft shuffling, like feet dragging through leaves. We all froze, staring at each other in terror.

The shuffling grew louder, closer. Lucas turned to us, his face drained of color. Did— Did you guys hear that? The shuffling sound grew louder, coming closer with every step. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst right out of my chest. I looked around at my cousins. Sarah's eyes were wide with fear.

Eli was gripping my arm so tightly at hurt. and even Lucas looked terrified. His mouth set in a thin line. What is that? Eli whispered, his voice barely audible. Sh, Lucas mouthed his finger to his lips. He reached slowly for the flashlight, his hand shaking. Carefully, he unzipped a tiny section of the tent flap, just enough to peek outside. We huddled behind him, each of us straining to see without making a sound. The flashlight beam cut through the darkness, sweeping across the trees. At first there was nothing but shadows and branches, but then something moved.

A figure emerged from behind a tree, and I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. It looked like a coyote, but not like any coyote I'd ever seen. Its body was twisted and stretched, with long, bony limbs that didn't seem to fit. Patches of its fur were missing, and its skin looked pulled too tightly over its bones. But the worst part was its face. It was like someone had tried to stretch a human face over a coyote's skull. The eyes were sunken and dark, and its mouth hung open in a silent scream. The creature moved slowly, in a jerky, unnatural way, circling our tent.

I held my breath, not daring to move. It didn't seem to notice us, at least, not yet. It was looking around, its head twitching from side to side, as if it were searching for something. Sarah covered her mouth to keep from screaming, and Eli's grip on my arm tightened. Lucas slowly lowered the flap, turning off the flashlight. We all huddled together, barely breathing, hoping that if we stayed quiet, it would go away. The shuffling grew louder, circling closer and closer to the tent. Then, in a raspy, distorted voice, we heard it speak.

Help. Me. It whispered, each word sounding like it was being forced out of something that barely knew how to speak. A wave of terror washed over me. It was mimicking a human voice, but it sounded wrong, too low, too harsh, like it was trying to trick us. Please, help, me. Eli began to shake, tears welling in his eyes. Sarah put a hand on his shoulder, mouthing, don't move. We were all frozen, hoping, praying that it would leave. The creature pressed against the tent fabric close enough that we could see its shadow, stretched and distorted. A rotten, small. A rotten, filled the tent, something like decay mixed with sulfur. I clenched my eyes shut, silently begging it to go away. Finally, after what felt like hours, the shuffling noise started to fade.

We sat there, still frozen, as the sounds moved farther and farther away, until the forest was quiet again. As the first light of dawn broke through the trees, we scrambled out of the tent and ran back home, leaving everything behind. us dared look back. I worked as a logger, spending my days in the forest, cutting down trees for a new housing project. To be honest, I didn't feel great about it, knocking down trees and clearing land. But hey, it paid the bills. The forest was beautiful and peaceful most of the time, even if it had its strange moments. The guys I worked with had found old abandoned tents, jackets, and even shoes left behind. But some stories were downright creepy. Once, someone found

bones that nobody could identify. They were still being talked about, the remains of some poor person who'd never been found. I always thought the stories were just legends to spook us, but that was before my last week out there. That evening, just before sunset, I had gone a little further into the trees to find some privacy. I could still hear my two co-workers laughing and talking near the truck, but their voices were faint. I walked into the deeper part of the woods, keeping an eye out for any thorny branches or rocks. It was just about 6 p.m., and the light was fading fast. In the winter, it got dark earlier, which meant we were usually packing up by now. I had wandered a bit further than I should have, but the guys knew I'd be back soon.

As I was standing there, I suddenly heard a loud snap, a branch breaking, close by. My heart started beating faster. I turned slightly, thinking it was one of my coworkers trying to mess with me. Nice try, guys. I muttered under my breath, feeling a little uneasy. I heard another crack even closer this time, followed by a low, weird chuckle. That laugh didn't sound quite right. It was strange, almost like it had a rasp to it.

But I convinced myself it was just them, playing around. Come on, guys, I said louder now. Let's get out of here. It's getting cold. They didn't answer. I zipped up my jacket, feeling a shiver run down my spine. Something didn't feel right. I could see shadows growing in the trees as the last bits of daylight faded. The forest was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. But then, there was another snap, this time coming from behind a thick, shadowed tree. I spun around and there it was. A figure, tall and strange, half hidden behind a tree about 50 yards away. It was about my height, maybe a little taller, but its head was odd, almost too big,

and its eyes, red, glowing like embers in the shadows. I froze, staring at it, unable to move. A thin trail of steam rose from its body in the cold air. It looked like it was breathing heavily, almost like a growl, and I could hear every rough, raspy breath. my feet felt like they were glued to the ground. I couldn't tell what I was looking at, but I knew it wasn't anything normal. I took a shaky step backward, then another, but the thing didn't move.

It just stood there, watching me, its glowing eyes fixed on me. Finally, I forced myself to turn and run back to the truck, my heart pounding louder than ever. My feet stumbled over roots and rocks, but I kept going, hearing only silence behind me. But even as I reached the truck, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was still out there, watching. The next morning I still felt that same chill from the night before, like something had followed me home, even though I knew it couldn't have. I'd barely slept, haunted by the memory of those red glowing eyes and the strange, rough breathing that had echoed through the forest. When I got to the job site, the guys were already there, talking in low voices.

They looked over when I arrived, and I could tell they were just, as spooked as I was, even if they didn't want to admit it. Our boss didn't believe us. When we told him what we'd seen, he laughed it off. You boys got too many ghost stories in your heads. It's just shadows and wildlife out there. He said shrugging. Now get back to work.

These trees aren't going to cut themselves. I didn't argue, but I could tell the others were still on edge. None of us wanted to be there, especially not after what we'd seen. But work was work. and we didn't have a choice. We got to the clearing, the area where we'd been cutting down trees and went right to work. I tried to focus on my job, tried to ignore the way the forest felt. It was too quiet, like it was holding its breath. Normally we'd hear birds or squirrels, or even the wind rustling the leaves, but now, nothing. Just the steady hum of the chainsaws

and the crunch of our boots on the cold hard ground. Every so often I, I'm not a lot of our own, I'd look up, scanning the trees. I knew it was out there. I could feel it, but the forest looked empty. My skin prickled, and every snap of a branch or rustle of leaves made me jump. The guys were jumpy too. Every time I glanced over, one of them was looking around, squinting into the shadows just like me. The silence wrapped around us, growing heavier with every hour. Finally, as we were packing up for the day, I heard it again. A growl, deep and low, coming from the south. my heart started pounding. The other guys froze, and I saw the fear flash in their eyes. None of us wanted to move, but we had to know if it was there. Slowly, we all turned toward the

sound, squinting into the fading light. At first, there was nothing, just shadows between the trees. Then one of the guys whispered, there, and pointed. My stomach twisted as I spotted it, the creature from last night. It was closer now. standing still, watching us, its red eyes blazing in the dim light. I could see the strange shape of its head, the thin steam rising off its skin. It looked more terrifying in the daylight than it had in the dark. Without thinking, my co-worker reached into the truck, pulled out a pistol from the glove box, and took aim, crack. He fired once, twice, and we saw the creature stumble, the shots hitting it in the leg in the chest.

But it didn't fall. It let out a horrible, angry snarl, then retreated back into the shadows, disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared. We jumped into the truck, barely speaking, and drove back to camp. My heart was racing, my mind spinning. I didn't know what we had seen,

but I knew one thing. Whatever it was, it was still out there, and it wasn't going to leave us alone. I didn't want to go back out there. After what we'd seen, I was ready to quit, to walk away from logging in the forest altogether, but we didn't have much of a choice. Our boss was firm, either show up or get fired. So there we were, the three of us, heading back into that forest as the sun started rising,

our breath visible in the cold morning air. The ride was quiet. Nobody spoke. We were all thinking the same thing about those red eyes and that awful, heavy breathing. My hands were shaking as we parked the truck and got out, each of us carrying our gear without a word. Every step felt heavier as we moved toward the clearing. The forest was completely silent, not even a bird chirping. It felt like we'd walked into a graveyard.

We started our work quickly, eager to get it done and get out. None of us wanted to be there longer than we had to be, but as the hours passed, I kept glancing over my shoulder, feeling like I was being watched. Every so often, I'd catch one of the other guys doing the same. We didn't say anything, but I knew they felt it too. The air was thick with tension, like the forest itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Finally, we started packing up the equipment, ready to get out of there.

That's when I heard it, the growl. My blood turned to ice as the sound filled the clearing, low and menacing, coming from somewhere to the south. I saw my friends freeze, their eyes wide with fear. We turned, looking toward the trees but saw nothing. The growling grew louder, echoing around us. It was closer this time, a horrible rumbling sound that made my skin crawl. One of the guys pointed, and I followed his gaze.

There, just at the edge of the clearing was the creature. Its red eyes glowed, staring straight at us. It looked bigger somehow and angrier. I could see the dark spots where the bullets had hit it yesterday, but it didn't seem hurt. If anything, it looked more furious, like it was out for revenge. My co-worker with the pistol raised it again, his hands shaking. He fired once, then twice, but the creature didn't even flinch. It took a step toward us, its growl turning into a snarl.

My heart pounded as we backed up, moving toward the truck, never taking our eyes off it. Get in, I shouted, and we scrambled into the truck, slamming the doors behind us. The creature lunged forward, slamming into the side of the truck with a force that rocked us sideways. It led out a horrible scream, a sound I'll never forget, half roar, half whale, like it was something naught of this world. My friend floored the gas, and we sped down the dirt road, away from the clearing, away from the thing that haunted that forest. As we hit the main road, the growling faded, but the memory of those red eyes stayed with us. We didn't talk much on the ride back, but we all knew one thing.

Whatever that creature was, it wasn't gone. It was still out there lurking in those dark trees waiting. From sauce to dust to nuggets. It's Taco Bell's new Diablo-Dusted, crispy chicken nuggets. Are they mild? If they were mild that had to change the name to little rascal nuggets or minor nuisance nuggets, definitely Diablo. New Diablo-Dusted Krispy Chicken Nuggets, a brand new classic.

Only a Taco Bell. At participating U.S. Taco Bell locations for a limited time and while supplies last. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this far from the city. Michael's old Jeep rattled down the winding dirt road, bouncing over potholes as tall trees stretched up around us. The world was getting quieter and darker as the day slipped into dusk, and for the first time, I was questioning this whole idea of camping out here in Shawnee National Forest. But Michael, my best friend, was going through it after his younger brother's death, and he needed this.

So here we were. Me, Andre, Leah, and Michael, all packed into the car with our camping gear and more bags than we probably needed for a weekend. After a few miles of nothing but forest, we finally found a clearing where we could set up camp. The air felt thick with quiet, broken only by the sounds of our sheds. shoes crunching on the dirt and the rustling of leaves. As we unloaded the tents and bags, I noticed Leah staring off into the trees. Her face shadowed with something I couldn't read. You good? I asked, nudging her. She snapped out of it, flashing me a quick grin. Just, it's spooky out here, isn't it? I nodded, but didn't think much of it. We were deep in the woods after all.

What did she expect? Once the tents were set up and a small fire was crackling, we finally start to relax a little. We roasted marshmallows, told jokes, and swapped dumb stories from school. For a moment, things felt normal, even good. Michael laughed for the first time in ages, his face softening in the firelight. I could see him relaxing, like maybe we'd made the right call bringing him out here. As the night dragged on, Leah decided to sleep outside in her hammock, saying she wanted to fall asleep under the stars. The rest of us headed to our tents, our flashlights bouncing off the trees and making weird shadows. The noises of the night felt like they were growing louder.

Crickets, branches cracking in the distance, the low hoot of an owl. I tried to brush it off, reminding myself we were just in the middle of nature. But just as I was drifting off, something caught my ear, a faint, distant sound that almost sounded like singing. I lay there in the dark, holding my eyes. breath, trying to listen. It was probably nothing, maybe a bird or the wind. Still, I checked my phone and saw a text from Leah. Can you see them? There are kids out here. My stomach dropped. Kids? Here? In the middle of the forest? I unzipped my tent as quietly as I could and peered outside.

Leah was frozen in her hammock. Her eyes fixed on something just beyond the firelight. I squinted, trying to see what she was looking at, and that's when I noticed them. Two small figures, no taller than four feet, standing at the edge of our camp. They didn't move. They just stood there, their faces hidden in shadow. I stepped out of the tent, my heart pounding. Hey, are you guys lost? I called out.

One of the figures tilted its head, like it was thinking, then finally answered. Its voice was low and flat. We're cold. Can we come closer? A shiver crawled up my spine. There was something wrong about the way it spoke, something that made the hairs on my neck stand up. I felt André come up beside me whispering,

This isn't right, man, we should leave. But I couldn't look away from those kids. We all stood there, frozen, staring at the kids standing just beyond the firelight. They were so still, like statues, their faces hidden in shadow. Leah finally whispered, What are they doing out here?

Her voice was shaking and honestly so was I. Michael cleared his throat, trying to sound calm. Maybe they're lost, he said, though he didn't look convinced. Are you guys all right? He called again, louder this time. One of the kids, the smaller one, tilted its head to the side, as if considering the question. Then, in a voice so flat and cold it felt like a slap, the kid replied, Please let us in. We're cold.

I don't know why, but that simple request made my stomach twist. Something was off, something I couldn't put my finger on. Michael glanced at me, his expression just as uneasy. Leah, looking torn, took a shaky step forward. Maybe we should. I mean, they're just kids, right? They could be lost. But Andre grabbed her arm, stopping her. Wait. Look at their eyes, he whispered, his voice barely a breath. It was only then that I noticed. The firelight flickered across the kid's faces, and I could finally see their eyes. Black, pitch black, like they had no whites or irises at all, just two inky voids staring back at us. My heart hammered in my chest, every instinct telling me that whatever these kids were, they weren't normal.

Michael took a shaky step back, his hand clenching into a fist. Uh, look, he said, trying to keep his voice steady. We—we don't have room in the tent, but maybe we could call someone for you tomorrow? He was stammering, practically tripping over his words. The kids didn't react. They just stood there, staring at us, unblinking. Then, after what felt like forever, one of them spoke again. Its voice colder than before.

It's rude to leave us out here. Invite us in. Leah looked at us, eyes wide. What do we do? They're just kids. Are they? Andre Cutter off, his face pale. They don't seem right. Just then, the fire flickered, casting long shadows over the campsite, and a chill swept over us, colder than the forest air. The kids took a step closer, and my heart practically jumped into my throat. I forced myself to

speak, my voice shaking. We can't let you in. It's too, it's too cold for anyone else. At that, one of the kids smiled, only it wasn't a normal smile. It was too wide, too forced, like someone pretending to be happy. The other kid said, we don't need warmth, we need you to let us in. Panic flared through me. This wasn't right. This wasn't normal. I pulled out my phone, desperate to call someone, anyone, but the screen was dead. The battery drained even though I'd charged it before we left. I looked around, seeing the others checking their phones too, each of their faces turning pale as they realized the same thing. No one had service.

No one had power. The kids were still standing there, closer than before. Their eyes never leaving us. Leah's voice was barely a whisper. What? What are they? None of us had an answer. We just backed away, huddling together as the voices of the kids rose again in a haunted,

chant repeating, let us in. The chanting grew louder, filling the night air with a creepy rhythm that made my skin crawl. Let us in, let us in. It was as if the words had a life of their own, echoing around us, bouncing off the trees. I couldn't tell if the voices were coming from the kids or from somewhere deeper in the forest. Andre clenched his fists, his eyes darting from me to Michael. We have to get out of here, he whispered, urgency thick in his voice. Now! Michael didn't argue. We all scrambled to pack up our gear as fast as we could, hands shaking, throwing everything into the Jeep without bothering to organize it. The kids just stood there watching us with those empty black eyes, never blinking. Their eerie smiles stretching

wider with every passing second. I took one last look at them before diving into the Jeep. It was the way they stared, like they knew something we didn't, like they were waiting for us to mess up and invite them in by mistake. I could hardly breathe as Andre slammed the door shut behind us, his knuckles white as he fumbled with the keys, finally getting the engine to roar to life. The headlights sliced through the darkness, illuminating the kids one last time. They hadn't moved, but they were still watching, their smiles fading into blank expressions as we pulled away. I held my breath, praying we'd just speed out of the forest and never see them again. But as we picked up speed, something caught my eye in the trees, a shadow, small and quick darting from

tree to tree. They're following us, Leah whispered, her voice barely audible. How? How are they keeping up? I didn't know. None of us did. But every time I looked out the window, I saw one of those shadowy figures flitting between the trees, always just on the edge of the headlights, as if they were taunting us, daring us to stop. After what felt like hours, we finally saw the lights of a gas station up ahead. It was run down, but the bright lights spilling across the parking lot felt like the first breath of safety we'd had all night. We pulled in, parking as close to the entrance as we could. The four of us stumbled out, practically collapsing into the store, where a gray-haired man was standing behind the counter, his face a mask of mild curiosity. You kid. You

"'Kids all right,' he asked, "'his eyes narrowing as he took in our pale faces and shaking hands. "'Michael tried to speak, but his voice cracked. "'I ended up explaining, "'words tumbling out of my mouth about the kids with black eyes, "'the chanting, the way they'd followed us here. "'The man listened quietly, not interrupting. "'But when I mentioned the black eyes, his expression darkened.

"'He looked at us, then slowly shook his head. "'You've seen them, he must. muttered, almost to himself. They've been showing up here for years, though people don't talk about it much. They look like kids, but they aren't. They'll try to get in, use every trick they can to make you let them. But if you let them in, you'll never be seen again. My blood ran cold. The words sank in, heavy and terrifying. Will? Will they still follow us? Leah asked, her voice breaking. The man looked out the window, his face serious. Maybe. They don't like to be ignored, but if you get far enough, maybe they'll lose interest. He looked back at us. Just don't ever open

your door to them again, not anywhere. We stayed in that gas station until dawn, clutching our coffees, watching the dark edges of the parking lot for any sign of movement. By the time the sun rose, we were too exhausted to speak. But one thing, was clear. None of us would ever forget those faces or the feeling of being hunted by something we couldn't understand. And no matter what, I knew one thing for sure, I'd never feel safe in the dark again. I'm Henry, and last week I decided to head out alone to a hidden fishing spot deep in the Tennessee woods. My friend Will had told me about it, saying it was full of fish, big ones too. He'd only found it a few days before, but swore it was worth the trip. Since his dark, he'd

daughter was sick, he couldn't come with me, so I was on my own. I followed his directions as best as I could remember. It took longer than I thought, twisting through thick trees and rough trails. The air was so still. Usually when I'm in the woods, I hear birds, bugs, maybe a squirrel or two, but here, nothing, just the crunch of leaves under my boots and the soft rustle of branches. At one point, I stopped because it felt like something was watching me. I shook off the feeling, trying to convince myself it was just my imagination. Still, a chill ran down my spine. After what felt like hours, I finally reached the pond. But it wasn't a pond. It was much bigger, more like a small, murky lake. Dark water stretched out before me, with shadows from the thick

trees around it making the whole place feel gloomy. I found a big rotting log near the shore, so I set down my stuff and got ready to fish. The silence was strange. Usually when you're by water, you hear frogs, bugs, splashes, something, but here there was nothing but stillness. I cast out my line, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling crawling up my back. I kept telling myself it was just my mind playing tricks. I'd been fishing for a while and even caught a couple of small fish when I heard something across the water. It was a sloshing noise, like something moving around. I squinted, trying to see better, but the tree's shadows made it hard. And then I saw it. Something was crouched on the other side of the pond, drinking from the water. At first, I thought it was a deer,

or maybe a bear, but it was hunched in a weird way, almost like it had too many joints or its legs were bent wrong. Its skin had an odd, shiny look to it, almost like fish scales, which didn't make any sense. My heart pounded as I watched it lift its head, but it was too far for me to make out much detail. Just as I started convincing myself it was some regular animal, the thing moved forward and slipped into the water without a sound. I tried to focus on fishing again, telling myself it was nothing, just some animal I hadn't seen before, but every nerve in my body was on edge. I couldn't shake the feeling that this place was wrong. I didn't belong here. My instincts told me to leave, but my curiosity kept me sitting there, watching the water, waiting for any sign of

movement. Just then, my fishing pole jerked, harder than any fish I'd ever caught. Before I could grab it, the pole flew out of my hands and into the water. I sat there, stunned, staring at the ripples spreading across the pond, feeling a sudden, deep fear. I sat there, frozen, staring at the dark swirling water where my fishing pole had just disappeared. My heart hammered in my chest, and my hands felt numb. I'd been fishing all my life, and I'd never seen anything strong enough to pull a pole out of my hands like that. Whatever was under that murky water wasn't normal. I glanced around, my eyes darting between the shadows cast by the trees. A few seconds, past, and the pond's surface was completely still again, like nothing had happened. But I knew better.

Something was down there, something I couldn't see, something that wanted to be hidden. I felt a chill creep over me, like icy fingers trailing down my spine. I decided it was time to leave. Maybe I was overreacting, but there was no way I was sticking around to find out what had yanked my pole into that dark water. My hands shook as I started packing up, every sound making it. Every sound me flinch. Even the quiet seemed different, thicker somehow, like the forest was holding its breath. Just as I slung my backpack over my shoulder, I heard it, a sloshing sound, soft but unmistakable, coming from right behind me. My whole body went stiff. I could feel my heart thumping in my throat. Slowly, I turned around, gripping my pocket knife, even though

I knew it was way too small to protect me from whatever was out there. And that's when I saw it. Standing just a few yards away, dripping with water and mud, was the thing I had spotted across the pond. But up close, it was way worse. It was bigger than I'd thought, standing on all fours with a strange, twisted stance. Its skin was slimy and scaly, a sickly green with patches of darker shades.

It had long webbed fingers that ended in sharp, claw-like tips, and its mouth was... Wrong. It was wide, strong. stretching almost too far across its face and filled with tiny needle-like teeth. Worst of all were its eyes, small, black, and cold, like it was looking right through me. The creature's neck was lined with these pulsing gills that flared in and out, making a wet wheezing noise with each breath.

I gagged at the smell, a thick rotting stench, like something that had been left to decay under the sun for days. The creature stared at me, then took a sore. slow, deliberate step forward. It made a low hissing noise, its mouth curling into what looked like a sick grin. I held my knife up, even though I knew it wouldn't do much. My hands were trembling, but I wasn't going down without a fight. Suddenly it lunged. Instinct kicked in. I swung the knife as hard as I could, connecting with the creature's neck, hitting one of the gills. The creature let out a high-pitched screech, stumbling back as thick, black slug. ozed from the wound. It flinched, snarling at me, and then, just as quickly as it appeared,

it turned and fled, slinking back into the pond. I didn't wait to see if it would come back. Dropping everything, I ran, crashing through the forest, not daring to look back. By the time I got back to my truck, I was shaking so hard I could barely get the key into the ignition. My heart was racing, and I felt like the thing's eyes were still watching me from some somewhere deep in the woods. I couldn't get the sight of that creature out of my mind, its scaly, slimy skin, the wide, grinning mouth filled with sharp teeth, and the awful sloshing sound of its gills breathing. The entire drive home, I kept checking my mirrors, half expecting to see it chasing me. The moment I got home, I called Will. He didn't believe me at first. Who would? But there was something

in my voice that must have convinced him. He finally, finally agreed to meet me the next day to go back to the pond, to see if there was any proof of what I'd seen. As much as I wanted to avoid that place, I needed someone else to see what I'd seen, just so I knew I wasn't losing my mind. The next day, Will picked me up, and we drove in silence to the trail. The closer we got, the more my stomach twisted with dread. As we walked through the forest, it was like every noise was louder, every shadow darker. Even Will, who usually cracked jokes to lighten the mood, was silent, his eyes darting around the trees. When we finally reached the pond, everything looked exactly the same, still, dark, and quiet. But then I saw them, the footprints, huge, webbed and clawed,

leading from the water to the very spot where I'd been sitting the day before. I pointed them out to Will, my throat dry. He stopped laughing. his face went pale, and he crouched down to get a closer look. These are too big for any animal, he whispered, staring at the prince. I nodded, too scared to speak. The prince were deep, like something heavy had stepped there, and they led straight into the water, where they disappeared into the pond's black surface. We both stood there in silence, staring at the water,

when we heard a soft splash from somewhere across the pond. Will and I turned at the same time. A ripple moved across the water, slow and eerie, like something was swimming just below the surface. The smell hit us then, a foul, rotten stench that made me gag. The ripple grew closer, and we saw a shape rise just above the water, the creature. Its head broke the surface, those black, soulless eyes staring straight at us. The gills on its neck pulsed, making that sick, wet noise.

with each breath. Will grabbed my arm, his face filled with horror. We. We need to leave, he whispered. I didn't need to be told twice. We backed away slowly, keeping our eyes on the creature as it watched us. Just as we turned to run, it led out a low, guttural growl that sent chills through my entire body. We ran faster than I've ever run in my life, crashing through branches, not stopping until we were back at the truck. We never went to. We never went to. back to that pond.