Just Creepy: Scary Stories - Scary Skinwalker & Wendigo Horror Stories Told In The Rain | Cryptid, Scary Stories for Sleep

Episode Date: October 23, 2024

These are 4 Scary Skinwalker & Wendigo Horror Stories Told In The Rain | Cryptid, Scary Stories for Sleep 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 00:14:00 Story 2 00:32:21 Story 3 00:46:34 Story 4 Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #horrorstories #skinwalker #wendigo #cryptids #JustCreepy 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀

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Springs calling. Ross, work your magic. I've always lived in a small town called Willow's Rest, a tiny place surrounded by mountains and thick forests. There isn't much to do here, so my best friend Dave and I spend most of our time hiking. We've explored almost every trail near, except for one, the Lost Canyon. We always heard stories about it, how the local tribe,

the Chinook, considered it cursed. People say strange things happen to anyone who goes too deep into that forest. Most folks in town don't even talk about it. But Dave, well, he's the kind of guy who never backs down from a challenge, so one day, he came up with the bright idea that we should hike the Lost Canyon. He said it like it was no big deal, like all those old stories were just rumors to keep people out. I didn't want to go. I had a bad feeling about it, but Dave wouldn't take no for an answer.

Come on, he said. You've got to see it to believe it. And I didn't want him to go alone. So I gave in. We started our hike early in the morning. At first, the forest felt like any other, quiet and peaceful, with the smell of pine and the crunch of leaves under our boots.

But as we went deeper, I noticed something strange. The usual sounds of birds and wind rustling through the trees were gone, completely. It was as if the forest itself had gone silent. The only thing I could hear was our footsteps, and the further we walked, the louder they seemed to get. I glanced at Dave, but he didn't seem to care. He kept talking about how cool it was to finally see the Lost Canyon, but I couldn't shake the feeling that we weren't alone.

There was this heavy, tense feeling in the air, like something was watching us. I told myself I was just being paranoid, but it didn't help. After an hour or so, I had to step off the trail to pee. I told Dave I'd catch up and headed behind some bushes. That's when I saw it. There was a small clearing in the trees, and in the middle of it were these weird old wooden totem standing in a circle. Inside the circle, the ground was completely bare, no grass, no leaves, nothing, just cold, hard dirt. It was like the earth had been scorched, but the trees around it looked untouched. In the center of the clearing there was a large black stone.

I walked closer and saw that it had strange symbols carved into it, symbols I didn't recognize, but they gave me the creeps. The air around the stone felt colder too, like standing in front of an open freezer. A shiver ran down my spine, and I quickly turned back to the trail. When I caught up to Dave, I told him about what I saw, but he just laughed. You probably found some old tribal stuff, he said. Cool, but nothing to worry about. I wanted to believe him, but something about that place felt wrong.

Deep down, I knew we shouldn't have come here. But it was too late to turn back now. We had already crossed into the Lost Canyon, and whatever was waiting for us, we were walking right toward it. The deeper we went into the Lost Canyon, the stranger everything became. The trees started to look, wrong. Their trunks were all twisted, like they had been warped by some kind of force. Some of the bark was blackened, as if it had been burned a long time ago, but there wasn't any

sign of fire. I couldn't shake the feeling that the forest was different here, like it had been tainted somehow. It was quiet, too quiet. I hadn't heard a single bird since we started, and there were no signs of any animals, no squirrels, no bugs, nothing. Dave didn't seem to care, though. He was more excited the further we went, talking about how we'd be the only ones to ever explore this place.

But I wasn't so sure that was a good thing. I kept feeling like something was watching us, just out of sight. It made my skin crawl, but every time I looked over my shoulder there was nothing there, just trees, all gnarled and dark. Do you hear that? I asked after a while. Dave glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.

hear what? I stopped walking for a second, listening. It was faint, but I could have sworn I heard whispers, soft, like they were being carried by the wind. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it made me uneasy. I strained my ears, but the whispers seemed to slip in and out, like they were coming from the trees themselves. I don't know, just something weird, maybe it's nothing. Dave shrugged and kept walking, but my heart was pounding in my chest. I felt like we were being followed, like something or someone was trailing us just beyond where I could see. Every time we paused, I'd hear the faintest rustling in the bushes. Dave didn't seem to hear it, though.

After a while, the rustling became more frequent, louder. I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see something dart between the trees, but there was nothing, just shadows. We're not alone, Dave, I muttered, trying to see something darted. to keep the shakiness out of my voice. Dave laughed. Dude, it's probably just a deer or something. Relax. But I couldn't relax. The sound was too close, too steady. It wasn't like an animal. It was like something was keeping pace with us. That's when I saw it, just for a second. Something moved between the trees ahead. It was quick, just a blur, but I knew I saw it.

I grabbed Dave's arm, my voice low. There, did you see that? He squinted in the direction I pointed, but shook his head. You're getting jumpy over nothing. The rustling grew louder again, and this time Dave couldn't ignore it. He finally stopped, looking around like he was starting to get it. All right, I'll check it out. Without waiting for me, he stepped off the trail, disappearing behind a thick patch of trees. Dave, I called after him, but he waved me off. A minute passed, then too. The forest around me felt like it was holding its breath, No sound, no movement, just dead silence. My skin prickled as I realized how long he had been gone.

Dave, I called again, louder this time. Still nothing. Dave, I called out again, louder this time, but my voice felt like it was swallowed by the forest. Still no answer. The trees around me seemed even darker now, the shadows longer, like they were stretching out toward me. My stomach twisted with worry.

Dave had been gone too long. I didn't want to go after him, but I knew I couldn't leave him behind. My heart raced as I stepped off the trail and into the thick brush where I had last seen him disappear. The forest felt different here, heavier somehow, like the air itself was thicker. The whispers I'd heard earlier seemed to start up again, only this time they were louder, clearer. They sent chills crawling up my spine. Dave, I called again, pushing through branches that seemed to. claw at me. I moved as fast as I could, but the deeper I went, the harder it became to breathe.

Something wasn't right. The forest seemed alive, as if it was trying to close in around me. After what felt like forever, I found a small clearing. My breath caught in my throat as I froze, taking in the scene in front of me. There was blood, a lot of blood. It was everywhere, splattered across the trees, soaked into the ground, smeared on the leaves. My mind went blank for a second as I tried to process what I was seeing. The air smelled like copper, sharp and sickening. There were deep drag marks in the dirt, like something, or some one, had been pulled through the mud. Dave? I whispered, my voice trembling now.

I took a shaky step forward, following the trail of blood and drag marks, though every instinct in my body screamed at me to run. My legs felt weak, but I had to know what happened. Then, just beyond the trees, I saw something moving. My heart pounded in my chest as I edged closer, staying low to the ground. At first I thought it might be Dave, hurt and trying to crawl back, but as I got closer, I realized it wasn't him at all. It was a creature, and it wasn't like anything I had ever seen before.

Standing on the other side of the ravine, it towered over the ground, at least eight feet tall. It had the head of a deer, a mass. massive twisted skull with hollow eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the shadows. Blood dripped from its antlers, which were jagged and sharp like broken glass. But its body, its body was wrong. It was human-like but grotesquely deformed, with long muscular arms ending in claws and legs that bent in unnatural ways. Patches of fur clung to its skin, but most of it was bare, revealing twisted muscles and bones that shouldn't have been there.

and in its claws it held Dave. I felt like my heart stopped. Dave's body hung limp in its grip, and his head, his head was twisted at an impossible angle. His eyes were wide open, frozen in terror, but there was no life in them. The creature dropped him like he was nothing, and its hollow eyes locked on to me.

I couldn't move. My legs were frozen, my mind screaming at me to run, but I just stood there, staring into the eyes of the monster. Then it moved. Its head tilted to the side as it stepped toward me, its heavy claws dragging through the dirt, slow and deliberate. That's when I snapped back to reality.

My body took over, and I turned and ran as fast as I could. I ran. I didn't think. I didn't look back. I just ran, crashing through the trees, branches tearing at my arms and legs. My breath came in ragged gasps, my chest burning as I pushed myself harder than I ever. had before. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart and the distant thudding of heavy footsteps behind me. The creature was following me. I could feel it, gaining on me. There was no plan in my mind,

no path. I was just running in pure terror, trying to get as far away from that thing as possible. Every few seconds, I expected to feel its claws dig into my back, to hear that guttural growl right behind me. But I didn't dare turn around. If I saw it, I knew I'd freeze again, and this time, I wouldn't be so lucky. My feet slipped on the damp ground, and I nearly fell, but somehow I kept going. The trail had to be close. I just had to make it back to the trail. If I could find the road, I'd be safe. That's what I told myself anyway. My legs burned, and my lungs screamed for air, but I couldn't stop. Not yet. Then I heard it. A deep, horrible roar echoed through the trees, like a mix between a deer's call and a bear's

growl. It sent a jolt of fear straight through me, but it also made me realize something. The sound wasn't right behind me anymore. It was further away. The creature had slowed down. Maybe it was losing interest. Maybe I could outrun it after all. With renewed hope I pushed harder, my legs pumping as fast as they could. The forest around me started to thin, the trees less dense. And then, through the gaps and the branches, I saw it. The trail. Relief flooded through me. I was almost there. I burst onto the trail, nearly collapsing as I stumbled forward. For a split second, I allowed myself to believe I was safe. But then, out of instinct, I glanced back toward the forest. There it was. Standing at the edge of the

trees, just a few feet from the trail, was the creature. It didn't chase me anymore, but it didn't leave either. Its glowing eyes were fixed on me, watching silently. Its deer skull head hung at a strange angle, and blood still dripped from its antlers and claws. The thing didn't look tired at all. I froze, locking eyes with it, my entire body trembling. It was like it was waiting for me, almost daring me to come back. My mind raced with a thousand questions. What was it? How could it be real? But none of that mattered. I knew one thing for sure. It wasn't finished with me. I tore my gaze away and ran for the car, my legs barely holding me up. I could see the gravel road up ahead. My car was still parked where we left it. I fumbled for my keys, my hands shaking as I finally reached the door.

Throwing myself into the driver's seat, I jammed the key into the ignition and floored it. As I sped away, I couldn't help but glance in the rearview mirror one last time. The creature was still standing there at the edge of the forest, watching me. It didn't follow, but I knew, deep down, I knew. It was letting me go, for now. I haven't been back to the Lost Canyon since that day. They never found Dave. I never told anyone what really happened either.

no one would believe me, but I can't shake the feeling that it's still out there, waiting. And sometimes in my worst nightmares, I see it again, standing just at the edge of the trees, watching. Spring just hits different. One day, cold mud. The next, warm sunshine. But the hardworking men and women in Carhart don't wait for the forecast to get to work. Hatching roads, clearing trails, planting crops.

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Navajo Reservation, and I've been walking that same path since we were kids. It's only only a mile or so, and usually I don't even think twice about it, but lately something has felt different. The forest wasn't always this creepy. Sure, it's full of shadows and strange noises, but I've grown used to it. I know where every tree and rock is, and I've always been good at ignoring the way the branches sometimes sway when there's no wind. Eli's grandpa has told us stories about the skinwalkers, monsters that can take the form of animals or people, but I never took them seriously. Just legends, right? They were interesting when I was younger, but now they're just that. Stories. But tonight, as I walked home from Eli's, the forest felt different. I'd stayed too late at his

house playing video games, and by the time I left, the sun was already sinking behind the hills. The sky had turned a deep orange, and shadows stretched across the path in front of me. I tried to shake off the uneasiness as I entered the woods. I could do it. this walk with my eyes closed. Ten steps in, the familiar chill of the forest crept up my spine. The trees seemed taller, closer together than I remembered. The sounds of birds and crickets faded, leaving the air heavy and quiet. The silence was so thick I could hear my own breathing, loud and shaky. I told myself it was just in my head that I was being silly. But then I heard it, Snap.

A twig breaking, not far from me. I froze. I knew that sound, but it wasn't the harmless kind, like when a squirrel jumps on a branch. It was the sharp, sudden crack that screamed, You're not alone. My heart started pounding in my chest. I swallowed hard, feeling my throat go dry. Hello? I whispered, my voice shaky and uncertain.

I don't even know why I said anything. The second the word left my mouth, I wished I hadn't. Then, something worse happened. From somewhere in the trees the same word came back to me. Hello? It sounded like me, but not quite right. The voice was hollow, like it was coming from far away, but I knew it wasn't. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

My breath came in short gasps, and my legs felt like they were glued to the ground. I forced myself to speak again, louder this time. It. Silence. For a long, terrifying moment, nothing happened. No wind, no bugs, no movement. Just me, standing there, heart racing. And then I heard it again echoing from the trees.

Stop it. My voice, but not mine. My heart hammered in my chest. I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. I stood frozen in the middle of the path, staring into the shadows, waiting for something to step out. something that wasn't human. Suddenly, the bushes to my left rustled. I whipped my head toward the sound just in time to see something massive, something with antlers, pushing through the trees.

That's when I ran. I barely made it through the front door before slamming it shut, leaning against it like I was holding back something from breaking in. My heart was still pounding, and I couldn't shake the image of those antlers, that twisted thing in the forest. I tried to catch my breath, but it felt like the air in the house was as thick as it had been in the woods. Mom was in the kitchen, humming to herself. She poked her head around the corner. Everything okay, Sam? I forced a smile and nodded, my hands trembling.

Yeah, I'm just tired. She gave me a funny look but didn't press me. I was thankful for that. There was no way I could tell her what had happened. No way she'd believe me. I didn't even believe me. I rushed up to my room and locked the door behind me, my mind spinning. What did I just see? What was out there?

I grabbed my phone and called Eli. He picked up on the second ring. Hey, what's up? I blurted it out. The whole story. How the forest went quiet, the snapping branch, the voice that mimicked mine, and the creature with the antlers. Eli listened without interrupting, but when I was done, the line went silent. Eli, you there? Sam, he said his voice low. Whatever you do tonight, don't answer it. My stomach dropped.

Don't answer what? He paused. If you hear anything, your name, a knock, anything. Just don't answer. I have to talk to my grandpa. I'll explain everything tomorrow. What are you talking about? Eli, what's going on?

But he wouldn't say anymore. He just told me to keep my doors and windows locked and hung up. I sat on my bed, gripping my phone, trying to make sense of what he said. I didn't believe in all those old legends, but the fear in his voice was enough to make me uneasy. That night, I couldn't sleep. Every little creak of the house or rustle of wind outside made my heart jump. The minutes dragged by, and just when I started to think maybe it was all in my head, I heard it. A soft slow tapping on my window, tap, tap, tap.

I froze, my blood turning to ice. My window was on the second floor. There was no way anyone could reach it. I pulled the covers up to my chin, my whole body shaking. Maybe it was just a tree branch. It had to be. Then I heard it. My name.

It was a whisper, barely loud enough to hear, but I knew that voice. It was mine, my own voice, calling from outside the window. My heart slammed against my ribs. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but it came. again louder. Come here. I bit my lip, my mind racing. Eli's warning echoed in my head. Don't answer it. I stayed completely still, not daring to make a sound. The voice continued, growing more insistent. Samantha, come outside. Open the door. It wasn't going to stop, and all I could do was pray for the sunrise. The next morning, I barely felt human. I had spent the

entire night huddled under my blankets, my heart pounding with every whisper, every tap on the window. By the time the first light of dawn filtered through my curtains, the voice had stopped, but the silence that followed was almost worse. It was like the creature was still there, just waiting for night to fall again. I didn't tell my mom what happened. She'd think I was going crazy. Maybe I was. Instead, I called Eli as soon as I woke up. His voice sounded as tired as mine. Did you hear it? I asked. My voice shaky. Yeah, he said. I talked to my grandpa this morning. He said it's a skin walker. They can take the form of animals or people. And once they know you, they don't stop.

It knows you now, Sam. It knows your voice. A chill ran down my spine. What does that mean? What do I do? Eli paused. You need to stay inside at night. Keep the doors and windows locked. Don't let it in, no matter what. And whatever you do, don't answer it. Once it gets in, it'll never leave. My heart sank.

The fear that had been swirling inside me since last night became a solid weight in my chest. I couldn't live like this, jumping at every sound, terrified of my own shadow. But I didn't know what else to do. The rest of the day passed in a haze. I went through the motions, eating breakfast, pretending to listen to my mom, but my mind was elsewhere.

I kept thinking about the forest, the mimicry, and Eli's warning. Every time I passed a window, I caught myself checking outside, expecting to see the thing standing there, watching me. That night, I did everything Eli said. I locked every door, made sure every window was closed, and turned off all the lights. My room was pitch black, but I didn't care. If I couldn't see it, maybe it couldn't see me.

I crawled into bed and pulled the covers up tight, trying to calm the rising panic in my chest. Hours passed and nothing happened. The house was quiet, and for a brief moment, I thought maybe it was over, that the creature had lost interest. Then, just as I started to drift off, the tapping started again. Tap, tap, tap, tap. My heart dropped.

I squeezed my eyes shut, praying it would stop, but the sound grew louder. It wasn't just at the window now. I heard it at the door. Then, my name, Samantha. It was soft, almost like a question. The sound of my own voice, but twisted, wrong. Samantha, let me in. I covered my ears, but it didn't stop. It just kept calling, over and over, getting louder with each passing second. I felt like I was suffocating. My own name repeated back at me, mocking me. Finally, I snapped. Go away! I screamed, throwing the blanket off me. For a moment, there was silence. Then the voice returned, but this time it wasn't mine. It was my mom's. Samantha, opened the door, honey. My blood turned to ice. The voice outside my door,

my mother's voice, sent a wave of cold terror through me. I knew it wasn't really her. It couldn't be. She was asleep in her room down the hall, but hearing her voice calling to me in the middle of the night, soft and coaxing, made me doubt everything. Samantha, honey, open the door. I need you. My heart pounded in my ears. I knew what Eli had told me. Don't answer.

Don't let it in. But the way it spoke, the way it mimicked her perfectly, made me hesitate. What if something had happened to her? What if she needed help? I stood in the middle of my room frozen, my mind spinning. My hand drifted toward the door handle, but I stopped myself just in time. This wasn't real. This wasn't my mom.

I had to remember that. I backed away, sitting on the edge of my bed, my legs trembling. Then the voice came again, more desperate. Please, Samantha, it's dark out here. I need you. I clenched my fists trying to drown out the sound. My whole body shook with fear. and I felt like I was losing my grip on reality.

It knew exactly how to get to me, how to use the voice of someone I love to break me down. Suddenly, the voice shifted. It wasn't my mom anymore. It was Eli. Samantha, it's me. Please let me in. I need your help.

My chest tightened. Eli's voice sounded scared like he was in trouble. The fear in his tone made my heart race. But deep down, I knew it wasn't him. It was the Skinwalker. playing its sick game, trying to trick me. I can't, I shouted, my voice cracking. You're not real. Go away!

The tapping on the door stopped. For a brief moment I thought maybe it had worked, that maybe the creature had finally given up. But then, the voice came again, this time softer, more insidious. Open the door, Samantha. You know you want to. Just open the door. I felt my resolve slipping.

My whole body was tense. my fingers trembling as I stared at the door. The whispers clawed at my mind, relentless. Part of me wanted to give in, to stop fighting. It was exhausting, and I didn't know how much longer I could hold on. Then I remembered what Eli had said. Once it gets in, it'll never leave. I couldn't let that happen. If I opened the door, it would be over. I'd be giving up everything. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stand up. My legs felt like jelly, but I moved toward the door, determined. I'm not opening it, I whispered, though my voice shook with fear.

You're not real. Silence. The air around me felt heavy, like the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for me to break. But I didn't. I stayed strong, even though every muscle in my body screamed for me to run. Then the creature spoke again, in a voice that sent shivers down my spine. Fine, it said in my voice. I'll be back tomorrow.

And then, everything went quiet. The next morning I barely managed to drag myself out of bed. Every muscle in my body ached from tension, and my mind felt like it had been through a blender. But even though the night was behind me, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't safe. The creature's last words echoed in my head over and over again. I'll be back tomorrow.

I knew I couldn't stay here another night. Whatever this thing was, It wasn't going to stop until it got to me. Eli's warning had been clear, but now I needed more than just a locked door and hope. I called him the second my mom left for work. We need to do something, I whispered, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. It's not going to stop, Eli. It's getting stronger. I can't do this alone anymore.

Eli sounded grim. My grandpa can help, but you need to come here, now. It's too dangerous to stay in your house. The thought of going back through the woods made my stomach twist with fear. But staying here, waiting for the thing to come back tonight, felt even worse. I had no choice. I grabbed my jacket and threw on my shoes not even bothering to eat breakfast. The sooner I got to Eli's house, the better. The walk to Eli's usually only took about 20 minutes, but this time, every second felt like an eternity.

The sky was overcast, casting a gray, muted light over everything. The trees along the path swayed with a low wind, their shadows stretching like claws across the dirt road. I kept my head down, refusing to look too deeply into the trees. Every rustle, every whisper of the wind sent my heart racing. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching me, lurking just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to strike. Halfway to Eli's, the air grew unnaturally cold. The familiar weight of dread settled over me like a heavy blanket. I knew what was coming before I heard it. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap what that horrible sound again. Only this time it wasn't at my window, it was behind me. I turned, my heart slamming

into my ribs. Standing at the edge of the forest was the creature. Its twisted, antlered body loomed out of the shadows, its eyes locked onto mine. But now, in the daylight, it looked even more horrifying, its body bent and wrong as if the skin barely clung to its bones. Its eyes were black voids, sucking the light out of the air around them. Samantha, it hissed. Its voice a mix of mine, Eli's, and my mothers, all blended together in a grotesque chorus. My legs felt like they were made of lead, but somehow I turned and ran. The trees blurred around me as I sprinted, faster than I thought possible, my feet pounding the dirt.

I could hear it behind me, the heavy, unnatural thumping of its limbs hitting the ground, chasing me. I ran faster, the sound growing closer with each second. My lungs burned and panic clawed at my throat, but I refused to stop. Eli's house was just ahead, the red roof barely visible through the trees. If I could just make it there, I'd be safe. But the creature was faster. Just as I reached the clearing, something cold and sharp grabbed my ankle. I screamed as I was pulled to the ground, my hands clawing at the dirt as it dragged me

backward, closer to the forest's edge. The creature's voice filled my ears, louder and more insistent now. Samantha, let me in, let me in. I kicked wildly, fighting to break free, but its grip tightened. Its cold skeletal fingers wrapped around my leg, pulling me closer and closer to the dark, twisted trees. And then, suddenly, Eli was there. He grabbed my arms, pulling me up with all his strength. Get up. We have to go. His voice was frantic, his eyes wide with fear. With one final desperate tug, Eli yanked me free from the creature's grip, and we stumbled toward his house.

Behind us, the creature let out a shriek so loud it pierced the air, like the sound of a thousand voices screaming in pain. We bolted through the door and slammed it shut behind us. Eli's grandfather was already there, waiting. He didn't say a word, just nodded and began chanting in Navajo, spreading a thick, smoldering herb around the room. The smell was strong, earthy, and for the first time in days, I felt a small flicker of hope. Eli and I collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath as his grandfather continued the ritual.

The creature's shrieks echoed from outside, but it didn't come any closer. The house was protected, at least for now. I didn't know how long the ritual lasted, or how much time passed. But when it was finally over, the world out of the world out of the house. side had grown quiet again. Eli's grandfather sat down beside us, his face tired but calm. The Skin Walker will keep searching for you, he said quietly, but as long as you stay close to us, it can't harm you. You'll be safe here. I nodded, tears of relief welling up in my eyes. I wasn't sure what the future held, but for now, I had survived. I had escaped, and that was enough.

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loud. Claire would laugh, call me paranoid. But there's something about the quiet that makes the world feel too still, too watchful, like it's waiting for something to happen. I was alone in the den, sitting in my worn-out recliner, bathed in the dim blue glow of the TV. Claire had turned in hours ago, tired from her early morning shift at the clinic. The dogs, Duke and Scout were with her. Usually they be out here with me, but for some reason they stuck to her side tonight, curling up at the foot of our bed. The house had settled into its familiar nighttime rhythm, the faint hum of the refrigerator, the occasional creek of floorboards, as the old cabin shifted on its foundation. Out here, deep in the forest, the isolation never bothered me. In fact,

I liked it. No neighbors for miles, just the trees, the wildlife, and a sky full of stars. It gave us room to breathe. That's why, when I heard the scratching noise, I didn't think much of it at first. I figured it was one of the dogs, maybe Duke, pawing at the back door, asking to be let out. But the scratching continued, slow and deliberate. My attention shifted from the TV, my ears tuning in, tracking the sound. I muted the TV and listened. The scratching came again, faint but unmistakable. My gut tightened, but I told myself it was nothing, probably Duke wanting to chase some nocturnal critter he caught a whiff of. Still, the dogs were unusually quiet tonight. Normally they'd have been barking their heads off at anything that came near the house. Pushing up from the recliner,

I patted down the hall, the wooden floor cold beneath my bare feet. As I passed the The bedroom, I glanced in, just to check on Claire. She was curled up under the blankets, her soft breathing, the only sound in the room. But the dogs. They were awake, both of them, sitting up and staring at the open bedroom door. I stopped in my tracks. Duke and Scout weren't barking. They weren't even moving. Just staring. Their ears pricked. Their bodies unnaturally still. A chill ran down my spine. Something was off. These weren't guard dogs, not in the traditional sense, but they always reacted to anything out of place. Duke, I whispered. His head snapped toward me, but he didn't wag his tail, didn't get up, just stared at me with wide, dark eyes.

I glanced at Scout. Same thing. Their gaze drifted back to the doorway, as if they were waiting for something to appear. I shook off the unease crawling up my back and moved toward the mudroom, where the scratching was louder now, more insistent. The frosted glass of the dog door was hazy in the dim light, but through it I saw a shadow. It was crouched low, too big to be Duke or scout, and it wasn't moving like a dog either. The shadow shifted, and for the first time, a sense of real fear crept in. I reached for the back door handle, my hand shaking. I swung the door open, nothing, just the empty dark of the night, the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. But I knew something had been there. I could feel it, like the air had just changed around me. I couldn't

shake the feeling that something was wrong, really wrong. It stayed with me crawling under my skin, long after I had closed the door. The shadow had been there. I knew it. I wasn't imagining things. But now, standing alone in the mudroom, staring out at the dark woods, I couldn't convince myself it had been just an animal. I made my way back to the bedroom, the floor creaking under my feet, but everything sounded louder in the silence. The dogs hadn't moved from their spot, still sitting there, still staring at the open doorway, but now they looked tense, their hackles raised slightly, their ears twitching with every sound. Duke, Scout, I called, but they didn't turn this time. Whatever had them spooked, it was still out there, and they knew it. I crawled

into bed next to Claire, who hadn't stirred once through all of this. How she could sleep so soundly in this kind of quiet always amazed me. I turned off the lamp and lay there, my heart still thudding from the strange encounter at the door. I tried to reason it out. It could have been anything, a raccoon, maybe even a stray dog passing through. But then, why had it felt so wrong? I pulled the blankets tighter around me, trying to settle the uneasy knot in my stomach, but sleep didn't come. My eyes flick to the doorway, then to the window. Everything outside was still, the night pressing in too close. And then I heard it, a sound I'd never forget,

slow, heavy breathing, coming from the hallway. It wasn't the dogs. It was too deep, too deliberate, as if whatever was out there had followed me inside. I held my breath, listening. The dogs had gone completely silent, not even a whimper. It was as if they were too afraid to make a sound. The breathing grew louder, closer, and I could almost feel the presence standing just outside the bedroom door.

My heart pounded so hard I thought Claire might wake up, just from feeling it against the mattress. I slowly reached for the lamp again, my hand trembling. I told myself that it was nothing, just my imagination running wild after seeing the shadow earlier. But deep down, I knew it wasn't. Click. The room flooded with light. I froze. standing in the hallway, half shrouded by the shadows, was the figure.

It was hunched, just like before, but now I could see its face, if you could call it that. Its skin was pulled tight over its skull, and its mouth was twisted into a grotesque grin, teeth too long and sharp. But what froze me were the eyes. They were wrong, too human. For a long moment it just stared at me, its mouth twitching as if it were trying to smile or speak. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Then suddenly it jerked backward, moving in a way no living thing should.

It scrambled down the hall, its limbs making sickening cracking sounds as it bolted on all fours. I shot out of bed, yelling, fumbling for the baseball bat under the bed, but by the time I reached the doorway, the thing was gone. The back door swung open, slapping against the frame in the cold night air. The dogs were whimpering, cowering in the corner, refusing. to even look at the doorway. I stood there, bad in hand, staring into the night, my skin crawling with the realization that whatever it was, it had been inside the house, and it had been watching us. The next morning, the house felt colder, emptier. Claire noticed it too. She kept commenting on how

off everything seemed, but I didn't have the nerve to tell her what really happened. She knew something wasn't right, but she chalked it up to my restlessness keeping her awake half the night. Maybe I should have let her believe that. After a long, silent breakfast, I went out to check around the property, just to settle my nerves. The dogs followed, though Duke stayed closer to the cabin than usual, his nose constantly in the air. Scout, normally bold, was skittish, trotting ahead and doubling back like he couldn't stand being alone for even a few seconds. The claw marks were the first thing I noticed. They were deep, gouging long streaks into the wood of the back door. I crouched down to inspect them, running my fingers over the rough edges. They were fresh, too fresh,

and whatever made them had claws bigger than anything I'd seen in these woods. No animal I knew left marks like that. I swallowed hard and stood up, scanning the tree line for any movement, but everything was still, too still. The normal sounds of birds and rustling like that. The normal sounds of birds and rustling leaves were absent. The forest felt wrong. Claire came outside a few minutes later, asking what I was up to. I told her it was just some animal scratching at the door. She shrugged it off, figuring it was a raccoon or a bear, but I saw the way she looked at the marks. There was doubt in her eyes. I spent the rest of the day trying to focus on anything else, chores around the cabin, splitting firewood, cleaning the shed, but that feeling stayed with me, the sense of being watched.

Every so often, I'd stop what I was doing and glance over my shoulder, half expecting to see that figure standing just inside the tree line, those dead eyes staring back at me. But it never showed. By the time night fell, my nerves were frayed. I locked every door, checked every window twice, maybe three times. The dogs wouldn't leave my side, their noses constantly sniffing the air like they were tracking something I couldn't see. Claire gave me an odd look when I suggested we

leave the outdoor lights on overnight. It wasn't like me to worry about things like that, but I couldn't shake the feeling. I needed to see what was out there. I went to bed with the shotgun next to the nightstand. Claire didn't say anything about it, but she noticed. We lay in silence, neither of us sleeping, listening to the sounds or the lack of them outside. Around 2 a.m. I heard it again, the breathing. I sat up, heart racing, every muscle tensed. Claire stirred beside me, sensing the tension, but she didn't wake. I strained to listen, trying to pinpoint the sound. It wasn't outside this time. It was closer, too close. I reached for the shotgun, gripping it tight. The dogs were whimpering again, huddled against the door, refusing to move.

I could hear the breathing now, slow and steady, coming from just beyond the gun. window. I couldn't bring myself to look. Instead, I just sat there, gripping the shotgun, waiting for whatever was out there to make the first move. I hadn't slept. I couldn't. The breathing outside the window never stopped, not until dawn broke over the mountains and bathed the cabin in its pale light. By then the noise had faded, but the tension remained. I stayed up, shotguns still clutched in my hands, scanning every shadow that stretched, stretched along the floor, half expecting that thing to burst through the door any second. Claire found me sitting there, eyes red-rimmed, the gun in my lap, when she woke up. She didn't

say anything, just gave me that worried look, the one that said more than words ever could. I knew she thought I was losing it. Hell, maybe I was. But I couldn't ignore it anymore. I wasn't imagining things. This wasn't just some animal creeping around in the woods. it was something else, something worse. I could see it in the dog's eyes, the way they trembled, how they wouldn't leave my side, and how they refused to even glance at the window. After breakfast I stepped outside again, shotguns slung over my shoulder. The sky was clear, the air still, but that unnatural silence was back.

No birds, no rustling leaves. Just a dead, quiet stillness, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. I scanned the perimeter of the property, my eyes drawn again and again to the tree line. Every so often I thought I saw something moving just beyond the edge of the woods, but whenever I looked directly at it, it was gone. And then I heard it, faint, barely noticeable at first, but unmistakable, scratching. Not at the door this time, but somewhere deeper in the trees, as if it was taunting me, daring me to come closer. I loaded it. the shotgun, the click of the rounds sliding into place somehow comforting, even though I wasn't sure

it had do me any good against whatever this thing was. I wasn't hunting now. I was confronting it. As I made my way toward the sound, the trees seemed to close in around me, their branches reaching out like skeletal arms. The air grew colder, a biting chill that prickled the back of my neck. Every instinct screamed for me to turn back, but I kept going, drawn forward by the a mix of anger and fear. And then I saw it. It was standing just inside the tree line, half hidden in the shadows. The same hunched figure, its twisted form bent in unnatural angles, its face, a grotesque mix of human and animal, was clearer in the daylight, though it still seemed to blur and distort the longer I looked at it. Its eyes locked onto mine, hollow and dead,

but filled with some kind of cruel intelligence. I raised the shotgun, hands shaking. Get the hell away from my house. The creature let out a low, guttural growl, its mouth twisting into that horrific grin. And then, in one fluid motion, it bolted, faster than anything I'd ever seen. I fired, the shot echoing through the trees, but it was already gone, disappearing into the depths of the forest, as if it had never been there. there at all. I stood there for a long time, my heart racing, the shotgun still aimed at the

empty woods. I knew it wasn't over. It would come back. And next time I wasn't sure if I'd be ready. This episode is brought to you by Netflix's remarkably bright creatures. What if a Pacific octopus held the key to a mystery that could heal your heart? Well, that's Tova's reality. An elderly widow working at an aquarium. Tova forms an unlikely friendship with the crumudgeonly Marcellus, whose remarkable intelligence leads her to a life-changing discovery. Watch remarkably bright creatures with your remarkable moms this Mother's Day weekend, only on Netflix May 8th. It was one of those mornings where everything felt sharp and alive.

The kind of morning that made me feel like the world was as it should be, where the air tasted clean and crisp, and my mind was finally starting to clear. I needed this. I'd been craving it for weeks, a hike out on Devil's Ridge. just me in the mountains. I woke early, threw my gear into the truck, and started driving before the sun had fully broken the horizon. Devil's Ridge was three hours from home, far enough away that it felt like a different world, and that's exactly what I was looking for. The last thing I needed was to think about my ex-girlfriend or the job I hated. Out here,

there was none of that, just pine trees, fresh air, and solitude. The drive took me through, winding back roads, each one quieter and more remote than the last. The town had faded in my rearview mirror an hour ago, and now it was just endless stretches of forest, tall pines lining the road like sentinels. I didn't mind the isolation. I never had. In fact, I looked forward to it. Too many people never seemed to realize how loud life was until they got out here, into the middle of nowhere. That's when the silence hit them. when it closed in like a blanket. For me, the quiet was a relief.

When I pulled up to the trailhead, there was only one other car there, an old beat-up sedan, its paint peeling in spots. I checked my watch, 6.30 a.m., early enough that I wouldn't run into anyone else on the trail for hours, maybe all day if I was lucky. I scanned the area, half expecting to see someone else getting ready to head out, but there was nothing. just the car and the trees, standing tall in the morning light. I got out of the truck, shouldered my pack, and glanced up at Devil's Ridge.

The mountain loomed in the distance, jagged and quiet, bathed in the early morning sun. This was my kind of place, rough, wild, and untouched, a challenge, the kind of hike where you didn't have to share the trail with the Instagram crowd. Out here, it was just you, and whatever the mountain decided, to throw at you. I started up the trail at a steady pace, taking in the crisp smell of pine and the crunch of dirt beneath my boots. Birds flitted from tree to tree, and every so often I'd hear the snap of a branch, probably a deer or a fox moving through the underbrush. It was peaceful, too peaceful maybe, the kind of quiet where your mind started to play tricks on you,

filling the space with things that weren't really there. I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing in the instead on the trail ahead. My legs fell into a rhythm, each step carrying me further into the wilderness. I stopped a few times to take photos, the landscape too beautiful to ignore. Towering trees framed the distant peaks, and the sun cast long shadows across the path. But as I climbed higher, something shifted. The air felt colder, and the birds that had been singing only moments ago seemed to disappear. I slowed, scanning the forest around me. The trail started. The trail, stretched out ahead, but the silence had deepened. No wind, no rustling leaves, just nothing. I told myself it was normal that nature had its own quiet moments, but I couldn't shake the

feeling that something wasn't right. The mountain was watching, waiting. The descent started easy enough. Sunlight still filtered through the treetops, casting long shadows across the trail as I made my way down. I felt good, sweaty, sure. But the kind of tired that comes from doing something that matters to you, my mind was clearer than it had been in weeks. But as the trees thickened, the light began to fade faster than I expected. I glanced at my watch, surprised to see how quickly time had slipped away. The sun had started to sink behind the ridge, and with it any sense of warmth disappeared. I picked up my pace, knowing I had miles to go before I hit the parking lot. I'd done plenty of hikes that ended in the

dark, and I wasn't too concerned. Not yet, but the further I went, the quieter it got. The birds that had been chirping and flitting through the trees earlier had vanished, leaving behind an odd stillness, the kind of stillness you feel in your gut more than you hear. I told myself it was just evening settling in. Nature's bedtime, right? But I couldn't shake the feeling that something else was going on. Then I felt it. That prickling sensation, the one that crawls up the back of your neck when you know someone, or some thing, is watching you. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart pounding in my ears. I scanned the trees looking for movement, but all I saw were shadows stretching longer as the light faded. My breath was coming faster, my instincts

screaming at me to keep moving, but every time I glanced back, the trail was empty. Still, that feeling wouldn't leave. I started walking again, this time faster, practically. power hiking down the trail. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a branch made me jump, and the footsteps, they started faint, so distant I almost convinced myself they weren't there at all. But as I kept moving, they grew louder, keeping pace with me. Too far back to see anything when I looked over my shoulder, but close enough that I could hear them. Footfalls, matching mine. I told myself it had to be another hiker. Maybe the person who'd left the car at the trailhead, But why would anyone be this far out now, at dusk?

No one else had been on this trail all day. It didn't make sense. The feeling of being watched got worse. I could feel eyes on me, following me with every step. I whistled a tune, anything to distract myself from the growing tension in the pit of my stomach. But the sound seemed to fall flat, swallowed up by the thickening shadows. I quickened my pace again, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds. expecting to see someone, but there was nothing, no one, just that damned feeling.

I kept moving, pushing harder, the forest closing in around me as night took hold. That's when I heard it. The footsteps weren't just matching mine anymore. They were getting closer, a lot closer. I glanced behind me again, expecting to see a person. But what I saw, it wasn't human, it wasn't even close. It was standing just at the edge of the tree, eyes glowing like something out of a nightmare. I didn't think, just ran. My legs kicked into overdrive, tearing down the trail like a madman, each breath a ragged gasp. Whatever was behind me, it wasn't human. That much was clear. I could still see those eyes, glowing like green embers in the dusk, burned into my mind. My heart hammered in my chest, my throat dry and tight as I

pushed myself harder than I ever had before. The footsteps behind me were faster now, no longer subtle or distant. They pounded the earth, closing the gap between us with each step I took. I was out of options, out of time. I needed to move, or I was dead. Branches whipped at my face as I tore through the trail, barely able to see in the fading light. The air was thick, the trees towering like sentinels on either side, trapping me on this narrowed. strip of dirt. I risked a glance over my shoulder, hoping, praying. It was just some hallucination or maybe a trick of the fading light. But what I saw almost made me stop dead. The thing wasn't a deer anymore. It was standing on two legs, towering well over seven feet tall, its long, skeletal

arms swaying unnaturally as it moved. Its skin hung in tatters, patches of matted fur mixed with sickly gray flesh. Its face was something out of a nightmare, hollow sockets where eyes should have been, and a mouth that was too wide, filled with teeth like shards of broken glass. The glowing eyes I'd seen earlier were gone, replaced by two black pits that seemed to swallow the light around them. And it was fast, too fast. I whipped my head forward, focusing on the trail ahead, my mind racing. What the hell was this thing? A bear, a freak of nests. nature. No, nothing natural looked like that. This was something else, something old, something wrong. It screamed again, that awful gut-wrenching sound, half-human, half-animal. It sliced through the trees,

echoing in the dark, sending fresh adrenaline surging through me. I pushed harder, legs burning, lungs on fire. But no matter how fast I went, it was gaining on me. I could hear its footsteps getting louder, closer, until I could practically feel its breath on the back of my neck. Then it swung. I felt the sharp, hot sting as claws raked across my shoulder, tearing through my jacket and into my skin. The pain was instant, blinding. I stumbled, nearly falling, but somehow managed to keep my feet moving. My right arm hung limp, blood dripping down my side, each step sending fresh waves of pain through my body. I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop. I not now. If I did, I was dead.

Ahead the trail narrowed sharply, dropping off into a steep slope. My only option was to run straight toward it. No time to think, no time to plan. I leaned into the fall, praying the slope wasn't as steep as it looked. I hit the ground hard, tumbling head over heels. Rocks and branches slammed into me as I rolled down the embankment, smashing against trees, dirt, anything in my path. pain radiated through every part of my body, but I didn't care.

I had to keep moving. When I finally came to a stop, I was lying in a heap at the base of a tree. My ankle was twisted, maybe broken. Blood soaked my jacket. The thing's footsteps were still up there, somewhere in the dark, searching for me. And I knew it would find me soon. The world was spinning, and my body felt like it had been through a meat grinder. Every breath was agony, my ankle a pulsing fire, but I couldn't stop now.

I could hear it above me, pacing the ridge like a predator stalking its wounded prey. Its guttural breathing echoed through the trees, closer than I'd hoped. Too close. I forced myself to sit up, wincing as I gingerly touched the torn skin on my shoulder. Blood soaked my jacket, but that wasn't what worried me. What worried me was that sound. The thing's ragged breaths, deep and deliberate, as if it was savoring this moment. I needed to hide, or fight, something.

My pack had spilled when I fell, my flashlight gone, leaving me half blind in the thickening darkness. But my hand grazed something solid, the knife I always kept on me, its grip cold and reassuring. I clung to it like a lifeline. Not much, but better than nothing. The creature was still there, prowling along the ridge above, and I knew I didn't have long before it found its way down. I glanced around, desperate. There, a bush, thick enough to hide me, if only for a few minutes. I dragged myself over, my ankle screaming in protest, and threw myself into the tangled branches. I pulled the leaves around me, trying to steady my breath, gripping the knife so tightly my knuckles ached.

The thing was close now. I could hear the crunch of its feet as it descended, slow, deliberate, the snapping of branches under its weight. My heartbeat matched the rhythm of its steps, each one louder, more insistent. I bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood, fighting the panic that was threatening to overtake me. I couldn't afford to break down. Not now. I waited, holding my breath as the creature's movement slowed. It was just a few feet away. its hulking form casting long shadows as it sniffed the air. I caught a glimpse of its twisted figure through the leaves,

those long bony arms that face, or lack of one. The thing that had once been a deer, now looked like something that had crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, its hollow eyes scanning the area, searching, and then it stopped. I could hear its breaths, ragged and low right beside me. It had found me. Without thinking I exploded out of the bush, knife in hand, slashing wildly.

The blade connected with something solid, a sickening crunch followed by an ear-splitting scream. Inhuman, guttural, like the death wail of something that should have never been alive. I drove the knife deeper into its skull, the blade sinking through flesh and bone until my hand was slick with blood, warm and thick, running down my arm. The creature thrashed, collapsing to the ground in front of me. Its body convulsed violently.

limbs jerking as if trying to pull itself back up. But I didn't let go. I kept pushing, stabbing, until its movement slowed, until it was still. I collapsed next to it, my chest heaving, body trembling from exhaustion and pain. The forest was silent again. No more footsteps, no more breathing, just silence.

The relief that washed over me was almost enough to make me cry, but I didn't. I couldn't, not yet. I lay there, next to the creature's life. body, staring at the sky, waiting for it to move again, half expecting it to rise and finish what it started. When the sun began to rise, its warmth cutting through the cool air, I realized I had made it, somehow. I forced myself to stand, my body screaming in protest, and stumbled back toward the trail. The creature was gone, its body, my knife, all of it. Only a trail of

blood led back into the woods, disappearing into the thick shadows. I wasn't going to wait around. I limped as fast as I could, the haunting scream still echoing in my head, knowing that whatever it was, it wasn't finished with me yet. And I wasn't sure I'd survive another night with it. I limped down the trail, every step sending a bolt of pain through my twisted ankle and torn shoulder. The sun was creeping higher now, its light cutting through the trees, but it did little to warm me. I was cold, colder than I should have been, and my hands shook uncontrollably. The trail stretched endlessly ahead, like some kind of cruel joke, each bend leading only to more trees, more silence. It was like the woods themselves were conspiring to keep me here.

The creatures' scream still echoed in my mind. Even though I had left its convulsing body behind, I couldn't shake the feeling it was still watching me, still hunting me. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a branch made me jump, made my heart race in my chest. I kept glancing over my shoulder, half expecting to see those glowing eyes again, that twisted face lurking just beyond the shadows. But there was nothing, just me and the woods, and the growing sense that I wasn't really alone. I wasn't running anymore. I couldn't. My body was too beaten up, my mind too frayed. All I could do was stumble forward, one agonizing step at a time. The blood had dried on my jacket, but the wound on my shoulder throbbed, and my ankle felt like it was being stabbed with every step.

But I couldn't stop. I had to keep moving. Stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant remembering, remembering that thing, how it had chased me down, how it had almost taken me apart piece by piece. Somehow I made it back to the trailhead where my truck sat waiting. The sight of it, old and familiar, was almost enough to bring me to my knees. I'd never been so relieved to see anything in my life. I fumbled with the keys, my fingers trembling too much to work right. But after what felt like an eternity, I got the door open and threw myself inside. I slammed the door shut behind me, locking it instinctively, like that thin sheet of metal and glass would keep out whatever was out there, but right now it was all I had. The engine roared to life, and I floored it,

the tires spitting gravel as I tore down the dirt road. I didn't look back. I couldn't. I couldn't bear to see if something was standing in the shadows at the edge of the woods, watching me go. I just drove, hands clenched tight on the wheel as the forest disappeared behind me. My heart was still racing, and my breaths came shallow and ragged, but I kept driving. kept putting miles between me and that cursed mountain. An hour passed, maybe more, before I even dared to breathe normally again. The sun was high in the sky now, and the trees were thinning, the road leading me back to civilization. But the feeling didn't leave me.

That thing, the way it had changed, the way it had stalked me, none of it felt real. But it was. I could still feel the weight of its eyes on me, the slash of its claws. the sound of its scream tearing through the trees. I was lucky. No, lucky didn't even begin to describe it. I was alive, barely, but I knew one thing for sure. I was never coming back to these woods.

Not to devil's ridge. Not to anywhere like it. Some places weren't meant for people. Some places held things that we were never supposed to see, never supposed to survive. And I wasn't foolish enough to test my luck twice. As the last of the trees disappeared in my rearview mirror, I whispered a promise to myself. I would never return, not to Devil's Ridge, not to any woods like it, because the next time I might not make it out alive.