Just Creepy: Scary Stories - Terrifying Deep Woods Horror Stories That Will Haunt Your Dreams

Episode Date: October 16, 2024

These are 3 Terrifying Deep Woods Horror Stories That Will Haunt Your Dreams 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 00:23:29 Story 2 00:46:19 Story 3 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! 💀

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Hilton, for the stay. Well, I guess this was it, the trip I'd been dreaming about for years. My daughter, Emily, and I were finally heading out on our very first solo camping trip, just me and her, deep into the wilderness of Ravens Hollow. I can't tell you how excited I was to share this adventure with her. Emily was just six, but I could see the same spark in her eyes that I used to have when my dad took me into the woods. The drive felt like it took forever. The road twisted and turned as we left behind.

the familiar cityscape and plunged into the thick green of the Appalachian mountains. Emily sat in the back, her nose practically glued to the window, her eyes wide as she took in the tall trees, and the way the light filtered through them. Honestly, I couldn't blame her. Those woods were beautiful, like something out of a storybook. We made a quick stop in this tiny town just on the outskirts of the forest. I think it might have been called Hollow Creek or something like that. I'm not entirely sure. The name wasn't really important. The town itself felt kind of forgotten. You know what I mean? Like one of those places that time just skipped over. The little general store had a creaky old door that led out a groan when we stepped inside. The guy at the counter

gave me this odd look when I mentioned Raven's Hollow. He had these thick glasses and a face that seemed permanently set in a frown. You're heading up there? He asked. He asked. He asked. He asked. He had these thick glasses, he like I just told him I planned to camp on Mars or something. Yep, just a little father-daughter trip, I replied, trying to keep it light. He didn't say anything for a moment, just shook his head slightly and muttered something like, That place can be unpredictable. I gave him a polite smile, but honestly, it was a little weird. I mean, I figured he was just one of those guys who liked to make a big deal out of nothing.

So I paid for our marshmallows and hot dogs, and we headed back to the... the car. The road to Ravens Hollow got narrower the further we went, the trees pressing in on either side. It was almost like they were swallowing us up, but not in a bad way. It felt, peaceful, I guess. Emily kept pointing out things she saw, like a deer that darted across the road, and a hawk circling up in the sky. Every time she'd see something new, she'd let out this little gasp, and it made me smile. This was exactly why I wanted to bring her here. Finally, we reached the clearing. Raven's Hollow was just as I'd imagined, a wide-open space surrounded by thick forest, with a little stream running nearby. Perfect. We got out and

Emily was off like a shot, running to pick some wildflowers. I started setting up the tent, feeling that familiar rush of satisfaction. There's nothing quite like setting up camp, you know? Everything in its place, a little slice of home out here in the middle of nowhere. Once the tent was up and the firewood was gathered, we got the campfire going. I showed Emily how to roast hot dogs, and she giggled as hers caught on fire, waving it around like a little torch. I told her all about fire safety, though she seemed more interested in seeing just how charred she could get her marshmallow before it fell off the stick. As the sun started to set, I noticed how quiet it was. Not like we're far from the city quiet, but a kind of heavy quiet that made my

skin prickle a little. No crickets, no birds, just nothing. I tried to brush it off, telling myself it was just the way things were out here. But honestly, it felt strange. Emily didn't seem to notice, though. She was busy showing me an old rusted charm she'd found near the stream. It looked like an eye, and the metal was so worn it was barely recognizable. Look, Daddy, it's a forest guardian, she said, her eyes shining. I chuckled, but something about that charm made me feel uneasy. I didn't know why, but I didn't want to spoil her fun. So I nodded and said, yep, looks like it.

You should keep it, Em. Maybe it'll keep watch over us tonight. She beamed, and we tucked the charm into her pocket before settling down for the night. I lay there for a while after Emily had fallen asleep, just listening to the forest. The stillness was almost oppressive, like the whole place was holding its breath. I told myself it was fine. There was nothing out there but trees and shadows. Eventually my eyes started to droop and I let myself drift off. But even as I did, I couldn't shake that weird feeling, like something was just out of sight, watching.

I told myself I was being silly, that this was just a normal night in the woods, but deep down, I wasn't so sure. I guess that's the thing about the wilderness. It's beautiful, but it's also unpredictable. And as I finally fell asleep, I had no idea just how true those words were about to become. I woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. You know how sometimes you just snap awake and you're not sure why? Yeah, it was like that.

For a second, I just lay there, staring at the roof of the tent, wondering what had pulled me out of sleep. I could hear Emily murmuring beside me, and it made me smile. She had this little habit of talking in her sleep, just like her mom. I closed my eyes thinking I'd just drift back off, but then I heard something else. It was faint, like a whisper, and it definitely wasn't Emily. My heart skipped a beat, and I told myself it was just the wind, probably rustling through the trees. But honestly, it didn't sound like the wind.

It sounded closer. I held my breath listening as hard as I could, and then I heard it again. This time it was clearer, like someone saying Emily's name, almost like my wife's voice, but it was off somehow. It was too calm, too flat, like there was no feeling behind it. My stomach twisted, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I sat up slowly, trying not to make a sound. I glanced at Emily, who was still fast.

to sleep. Her tiny form curled up in her sleeping bag. I wanted to believe it was just my imagination, but something about that voice was all wrong. It was like it was trying to sound like my wife, but didn't quite know how. I unzipped the tent just a crack, and peered out into the darkness. The fire had burned down to just a few glowing embers, and everything beyond that was pitch black. I couldn't see anything, but I had that feeling, you know, the one where you're sure someone's watching you. My heart was pounding so loud I was afraid it might wake Emily. Then I heard it again. Emily, the voice whispered from somewhere out there in the dark. It was soft, but it cut through the silence like a knife. It was coming from the left, near the tree line, and this time it sounded like my

wife, but twisted, almost mechanical, like it was a recording. I felt my whole body go cold. I reached for my hunting knife, the one I always kept close when we camped. My hand was shaking as I gripped it, trying to decide what to do. I didn't want to leave Emily alone, but I also couldn't just sit there and do nothing. I had to protect her. Who's out there? I called. My voice barely more than a whisper. I didn't want to wake Emily, and honestly I didn't want to draw too much attention either.

No answer. Just silence. I waited, my ears straining. and then I heard the whisper again, louder this time, like it was right outside the tent. Come outside, sweetheart, I'm here. The voice was hollow, empty, and it made my skin crawl. There was no warmth, no love, just words, my wife's voice but wrong. I knew then that whatever was out there, it wasn't human. My heart was racing, and I felt this fierce, protective anger rise up inside me. I wasn't about to let anything near my daughter.

I grabbed the lantern with my free hand and slowly unzipped the tent the rest of the way, stepping out into the cold night air. It was so dark, I could barely see a few feet ahead of me. I held the lantern high, the weak light flickering, barely pushing back the shadows. I scanned the campsite, my eyes darting from tree to tree, but there was nothing, just darkness. I wanted to believe that whatever it was had gone, but deep down I knew it was still there. Then I heard a branch snap, and my head whipped around. The sound came from the edge of the clearing,

and I turned the lantern towards it, my hand tightening on the knife. That's when I saw them. Two glowing eyes, shining from the darkness. They were yellow at first, almost beautiful. But as I stared, they seemed to change, shifting to a deep, angry red. The eyes were low, behind a bush, and then they started to rise. Slowly, whatever it was stood up, and I could feel my stomach drop. It was tall, too tall.

Its shape was all wrong, stretched and thin, like it didn't quite fit together properly. My heart pounded in my ears as I watched it, the lantern light flickering as if it was struggling to stay lit. Suddenly, Emily screamed from inside the tent, and my blood ran cold. The creature's head snapped towards the sound, and I could see its mouth open. wide and unnatural, with this sickening snap that made me want to gag. It was like it was smiling, but there was nothing human about it. Without even thinking, I lunged forward, slashing at the air with my knife, yelling as loud as I could.

I didn't even know what I was saying, just noise, anything to get it away from my daughter. The creature let out this high-pitched shriek, a sound that felt like it was piercing right through me, and then it was gone, vanishing into the trees so fast. I almost didn't see it move. I stood there, breathing hard, my eyes darting around, trying to catch any sign of it. But there was nothing, just the dark, empty forest. I backed towards the tent, never taking my eyes off the tree line,

and ducked inside, pulling Emily into my arms. She was crying, shaking, and I whispered to her that it was okay, that it was just a bad dream. But I knew it wasn't a dream. Whatever that thing was, it had been real. And as I held Emily close, knife still clutched in my hand, I knew one thing for sure. We weren't safe here. Not anymore.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the night. How could I? Every tiny sound outside the tent made my heart pound, and I gripped that hunting knife so tightly, my hand started to ache. Emily, thankfully, had settled down. her little head resting on my lap. I kept the lantern dim, just enough to cast a soft glow so I could see her peaceful face. I tried to stay calm, you know, telling myself that maybe it was all just a bad dream, that my mind had somehow played tricks on me.

But deep down I knew better. I knew what I saw, that thing, those eyes, the way it moved. It wasn't anything natural. And I couldn't shake the feeling that it was still out there, lurking, watching us. As soon as the first light of dawn broke through the trees, I felt a wave of relief. I can't even begin to tell you how good it felt to see the sun again. I carefully moved Emily off my lap and started packing up our camp as quietly as I could.

My hands were still trembling, and every time I looked at the tree line, I half expected to see those glowing eyes staring back at me. Emily woke up while I was stuffing the sleeping bags away. She rubbed her eyes and gave me a sleepy smile. Daddy, why are we leaving so early? She asked, her voice still groggy. I forced a smile trying to keep my voice light. We've got a long drive ahead, kiddo,

thought we'd get an early start. Plus, I bet we can grab some pancakes on the way home. That seemed to do the trick. Emily's eyes lit up, and she started talking excitedly about what kind of pancakes she wanted. Chocolate chips, obviously. I nodded along,

but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch, a constant sense of something just beyond my vision. With everything packed up, I grabbed Emily's hand and we started towards the car. I kept her close, my eyes scanning the forest, the knife still tucked into my belt. The morning was quiet, too quiet.

No birds, no rustling leaves, just our footsteps crunching on the path. It was like the whole world was holding its breath. We were almost to the car when I heard it, a rustling sound off to the side, like something moving through the underbrush. My heart skipped a beat, and I pulled Emily closer, trying to keep my voice calm. Let's hurry up, Em, I said, my eyes darting to the source of the noise. For a split second, I saw something, just a shadow, darting between the trees.

It was fast, too fast to be a person. My stomach twisted in fear, and I felt a cold, sweat break out on the back of my neck. Emily didn't seem to notice, thankfully. She was too busy telling me all about her dream, something about a magical forest guardian that protected us from bad guys. I forced a smile, nodding, but all I could think about was getting her to safety. When we reached the car, I opened the back door and practically shoved her inside, locking it behind her. I was about to get in myself when I heard it again, that voice. My wife's voice, calling my name. It was coming from the trees and it sounded different this time, angry, almost mocking.

David, it called, the word stretching out in this unnatural twisted way that made my skin crawl. I turned, my eyes searching the tree line, and for just a moment I saw them. Those red eyes, glowing from the darkness, watching me. My heart pounded in my ears, and I felt this mix of fear and anger rising up inside me. I wasn't about to let whatever this was get anywhere near my daughter. I raised my knife, shouting, You stay away from us! My voice echoed in the stillness,

and for a moment everything seemed to freeze. Then, just like that, the eyes were gone. The forest seemed to come back to life. Birds started chirping, and I could hear the rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was like whatever had been there had just disappeared. I didn't waste any time. I jumped into the car, started the engine, and tore down that narrow road as fast as I could.

I kept glancing in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see that thing chasing us, but all I saw was the empty road, the forest slowly fading into the distance. Emily was quiet for a while, and then she spoke up. Daddy was something wrong? She asked, her voice small. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my hands on the wheel. wheel. No, sweetheart, I lied. Just thought we'd get home a little faster, that's all. She nodded, but I could tell she wasn't convinced. Honestly, I wasn't either. I knew what I saw, and I knew that

whatever it was, it was still out there, somewhere in those woods. We stopped at a diner a few hours later, and I tried to act normal. Emily seemed to bounce back quickly, chattering about the pancakes and how she wanted to go camping again. I just smiled and nodded, but inside I felt this heavy weight, like a knot in my chest that wouldn't go away. Before we left, I noticed the rusted charm Emily had found back at the campsite. She'd left it on the table while she was eating, and I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. There was something about it, something that felt wrong. I didn't want it anywhere near us. So when Emily wasn't looking, I dropped it into the trash can by the door. Maybe it was silly, but it made me feel a little better, like I was leaving a piece of that

nightmare behind. As we drove home, I kept glancing in the mirror, half expecting to see something out there, something following us. I didn't see anything, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't over, that whatever was out there in Ravens Hollow was still watching, waiting. And as we pulled into our driveway, Emily waved at something behind us, a big smile on her face. I glanced in the mirror again, my heart skipping a beat, but there was nothing there, just the empty road. Still, I couldn't help the chill that ran down my spine as I quickly ushered her inside, locking the door behind us.

I felt like I couldn't pack up fast enough. My hands were clumsy, fumbling with the tent poles, my eyes darting around the clearing. Every rustle of leaves, every sway of a branch, it all made my heart skip. I mean I knew that whatever was out there had retreated for now, but it was like I could still feel its eyes on me. Honestly, it felt like the whole forest was watching us. Emily was still half asleep, sitting on a rock with her teddy bear in her lap, her eyes blinking drowsily as she watched me. I plastered on a smile, even though my insides were twisted in knots. How about we get some pancakes on the way home, Em? I said, trying to keep my voice cheerful.

She smiled, and for a moment it almost felt normal. Almost. Once everything was packed, I grabbed Emily's hand. Stay close, sweetheart, I told her. She nodded, her little fingers gripping mine tightly. I tried to keep my eyes on the path ahead, but I couldn't help glancing at the trees. The shadows seemed deeper now, like they were hiding something just out of sight. I didn't hear any birds, no rustling of animals, just this head.

heavy, awful silence. We were about halfway to the car when I heard it, a rustling, like something moving through the brush. My chest tightened, and I squeezed Emily's hand a little harder, picking up the pace. Daddy, you're hurting my hand, she said, her voice small. I loosened my grip forcing myself to take a breath. Sorry, M, let's just keep moving, okay? I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears. I glanced over my shoulder and for just a second I thought I saw something, a dark shape slipping between the trees. My stomach did a flip, and I turned back, practically dragging Emily along now. I knew I had to get her to safety. That was the only thing that mattered. When we finally reached the car, I felt a rush of relief so strong it almost made me dizzy.

I opened the back door and helped Emily inside, buckling her in as quickly as I could. Daddy, what's wrong? she asked, her eyes wide and confused. I tried to smile, but I knew it probably looked more like a grimace. Nothing, sweetheart, we're just in a bit of a hurry, that's all. I slammed the door shut, and that's when I heard it. The voice. My wife's voice, coming from somewhere deep in the woods. David, it called, stretching out my name in that same strange hollow tone. My blood ran cold. I turned, my eyes scanning the trees, and there they were, those red eyes, glowing from the shadows. They stared at me, unblinking, and I felt this wave of anger and fear crash over me. I wasn't going to let that thing get anywhere near my daughter.

Not now, not ever. I raised my knife, pointing it towards the tree line. Stay away from us, I shouted my voice cracking. The eyes narrowed. and for a moment I thought I saw a twisted smile beneath them, a mouth full of sharp, jagged teeth. Then, just like that, the eyes vanished. The forest seemed to breathe again. Birds started to chirp. The wind rustled through the leaves. It was like whatever had been there had just disappeared. But I knew better. It wasn't gone. It was just hiding, waiting. I jumped into the driver's seat, my hands shaking as I started the car. I didn't look back. I couldn't. I just drove, the tires kicking up dirt as we sped down that narrow, winding road.

I kept glancing in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see those glowing eyes following us, but all I saw was the empty road, the forest fading into the distance. Emily was quiet for a while, her eyes on the window. Then she spoke, her voice barely a whisper. Daddy, was something out there? I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. No, sweetheart, it was just... just the wind, probably. I knew she didn't believe me, and honestly I didn't believe myself either.

We stopped at a diner a couple of hours later. I needed a break. I needed to catch my breath. Emily seemed to bounce back quickly, smiling as she dug into her pancakes, talking about how she wanted to go camping again soon. I just nodded, but inside, I felt like I was still out there, in those woods, with that thing watching me. Before we left, I noticed something on the table. Emily's rusted charm, the one she'd found by the stream. She must have taken it out of her pocket while she was eating. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands.

There was something about it, something that felt wrong. I didn't want it anywhere near us. So when Emily wasn't looking, I slipped it into the trash can by the door. Maybe it was silly. Maybe it didn't mean anything. but it made me feel a little better, like I was leaving a piece of that nightmare behind. The drive home was quiet. I kept glancing in the mirror, half expecting to see something there, something following us.

But there was nothing, just the empty road stretching out behind. When we finally pulled into our driveway, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. We were home. We were safe. I helped Emily out of the car, and she ran up to the front. door, waving at something behind us. I felt my heart stop. I turned, my eyes scanning the street, but there was nothing, just the empty road, the sun dipping low on the horizon. Still, I couldn't shake the chill that ran down my spine as I hurried her inside, locking the door behind us. I've always liked to think of myself as someone who's comfortable alone, really alone,

the kind of person who can set up camp miles away from another human and feel right at home. I've done it more times than I can count, wandering deep into the wild places of whales, where the only company you're likely to find is whatever's hiding behind the thick screen of trees. It's something that used to bring me peace. But well, let's just say this particular trip made me question everything I thought I knew. It started out just like any other trip, really. I'd parked my car down an old dirt lane that barely passed for a road, grabbed my gear, and hiked a few miles into the forest.

The air was crisp, that perfect kind of cool that makes you want to breathe deep and just fill your lungs. There was a stillness that settled over everything, like the whole world had decided to take a rest. I found a spot by a small clearing, where the trees opened up enough for me to get a good view of the sky. It was perfect, secluded, quiet, far from anyone or anything, just how I liked it. I set up my tent, got a little

fire going, and relaxed with a good book. The sun dipped below the trees in slow motion, painting everything in a warm golden light that eventually slipped away into shadows. The forest felt safe, cozy even, with the fire crackling and the stars coming out above. The kind of night where you feel like the world's a good place, where the line between civilization and wilderness blurs in just the right way. But you know, there's something funny about the woods when the sun goes down. Sometimes all that peace and quiet can start to feel different. You can't help but notice when the usual rustle of leaves

or distant calls of animals just vanish. That night, as I lay in my tent, it was like the forest decided to hold its breath. I remember the silence being so. so deep, it almost had a weight to it. I figured it was just my mind playing tricks on me. Maybe I'd scared off some critters while settling in. It wasn't until much later that I realized just how wrong that assumption was. The next day was about as perfect as it could get. I spent it hiking through the woods, stopping by a little village for a pint at the local pub,

just enjoying the simple freedom that comes with being out in the wild. By the time I made it back to camp, the sun was already setting, and I had a belly full of good food and a warm buzz from the beer. The sky was clear, stars coming out one by one, and I felt that kind of contentment that only a day well spent in the outdoors can give you. I watched the fire burn down to embers and crawled into my tent, more than ready for sleep, but that's when things started to change. It was some time past midnight when I woke up, that kind of half-awake state where I was a you're not quite sure why your eyes are open. I didn't move at first, just listening, and that's when I heard it, a sound that didn't belong, a humming, melodic, almost beautiful,

but in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was too perfect. Each note held just right, no break or hesitation, like it wasn't a person making that sound, but something else entirely. I tried to tell myself it was just someone messing around, maybe a couple of kids trying to freak me out. But there was something about that tune, so haunting and unnatural, that made it impossible to ignore. My heart started to pound, and I could feel that prickling fear creeping in, the kind that you can't shake no matter how hard you try to rationalize things. I lay there for a minute, maybe more, just listening. The sound didn't stop. It stayed steady, like it was waiting for something.

Eventually I knew I couldn't just lie there. I had to see what it was. So I reached for the zipper of my tent, and as soon as I started to open it, the humming cut off. Just like that, like someone had hit the pause button. The silence rushed back in, almost deafening, and I could feel my pulse in my ears. I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh or scream.

Maybe it was just some prankster after all. I took a breath and, without thinking too much, yelled out into the night, hoping it would be enough to scare off whoever was out there. But then it came again. The humming. Only this time it was different. It wasn't where it had been before. No, it was closer now, coming from the opposite direction.

Somewhere it shouldn't have been able to get to that fast. The kind of distance that makes you realize, whatever's out there, it doesn't play by the same rules as you and me. I felt my blood run cold, a kind of fear that went straight down to my bones. I fumbled with the zipper, my hands shaking, and forced myself to peek out. That's when I saw it, a figure standing tall against the tree line, taller than any person should be, with arms too long and a head too small. It was swaying, just slightly, as if it was in time with that haunting impossible tune.

And in that moment, all the peace, all the comfort I'd ever found. in the woods just drained away, leaving nothing but an emptiness I can't quite describe. I don't know if you've ever had a moment where the world suddenly seems wrong, where everything looks the same, but you can feel that something's fundamentally different. That's how I felt as I stood there, staring at that tall, swaying figure. It wasn't just that it didn't belong, though that much was obvious. It was the way everything else seemed to fade away, like the world was losing color, and sound and meaning. For a long, breathless moment, I just stood there, feeling like my brain was

struggling to catch up, to make sense of something that had no business being in this world. I think, maybe some part of me was still hoping it was a trick of the light or a shadow or, hell I don't know, a figment of an overactive imagination. But then, it hummed again, that same melodic tune, and any illusion I had left shattered. I've heard people talk about. I've heard people talk about being scared out of their minds, but let me tell you, I understood it then. My mind didn't want any part of this. It just shut down, leaving my body to figure it out. The humming had stopped for that second I looked out, and now it started up again, but it wasn't where it had been before. It was closer, too close, coming from somewhere it couldn't have moved to in that short amount

of time. I felt like I was being played with, and that realization sent a bolt to a bolt to of panic straight through me. It felt like my chest was going to explode. I wanted to move, to do anything besides just stand there, but fear had me locked in place. I was rooted to the ground, staring at that thing swaying in the shadows. I knew I had to get out of there, but the sheer wrongness of it all held me tight. I could hear my own breath, ragged and shallow, and I could feel the blood pounding in my ears. The figure, it wasn't just swaying now, It was shifting, like it was stepping closer, moving without really moving, if that makes any sense at all. And the humming, that's when I realized it wasn't just humming anymore.

It was saying my name, over and over, a sick, distorted version of my own voice, like someone had recorded me and twisted the sound into something awful. I can't really explain what that does to a person, hearing your own voice like that, twisted and taunting. It felt like it was trying to reach inside me, trying to pull it something deep and raw and scared. I'd had enough. My body finally caught up with my brain, and I did the only thing I could. I turned and ran. I didn't care that I was leaving my tent behind, or that I wasn't wearing shoes.

None of it mattered anymore. I just ran, crashing through the underbrush, my socks getting torn by the brambles, branches whipping against my face. I didn't even think about where I was going. I just wanted to get as far away from that thing as I could. The forest was pitch black, and every shadow seemed alive. I had no idea if the thing was following me. I didn't dare look back.

All I knew was that I could still hear it, that low, droning hum, echoing through the trees like it was bouncing from place to place, coming from all directions at once. It wasn't right, and no matter how fast I ran, it felt like I wasn't getting away. Finally I stumbled to a stop, my chest heaving, lungs burning.

I leaned against a tree, trying to catch my breath, trying to listen. There was nothing, no sound, no movement, just the oppressive silence of the forest at night. I stayed like that, not moving, barely breathing, for what felt like forever. My hands were shaking, my legs felt like they might give out at any moment, and all I could think was that I'd made a huge mistake coming out here. I know it sounds strange, but part of me started to wonder if it was all in my head, if maybe I'd just imagine the whole thing. Fear can do that to you, you know?

It can make you see things that aren't really there, hear things that don't exist. I wanted to believe that. God, I wanted to believe that I'd just scared myself into seeing shadows where there weren't any. But the memory of that voice, my own voice, twisted and wrong, kept me from convincing myself. After what must have been a couple of hours, I finally forced myself to move. My legs were stiff, my feet were sore and cold, and every step felt like it might be my last, but I couldn't stay there forever. I had to get back to my tent.

I had to get my phone, my car keys, something, anything to make me feel like I could get out of there for good. The walk back felt like it took a lifetime. Every rustle of leaves, every creek of branches made me freeze. Sure that it was coming for me, the forest felt different now, like it was watching me, waiting. I don't know how to explain it, but it felt like the trees themselves were holding their breath, like they were in on some secret that I wasn't a part of. When I finally got back to my camp, I could see the tent standing there, untouched, like nothing had happened. The fire had long since died out, and everything was quiet, too quiet.

I didn't waste any time. I grabbed my phone and my keys, and I got out of there. I didn't bother packing up. I left everything else behind and ran, my feet barely feeling the cold earth beneath them as I made my way back to the car. I don't think I've ever driven with my hands shaking that bad before. You know that feeling when you've just dodged something really awful. like maybe a car that almost ran you off the road, and your body's buzzing with adrenaline,

not quite sure if you're safe yet. That's what it felt like, only it didn't go away. Even after I managed to get myself into the car, I couldn't stop looking over my shoulder, half expecting that tall figure to emerge from the dark, standing right there at the edge of the trees. The thing is, the fear didn't feel normal. I mean, I'd been scared before.

I'm not a stranger to that kind of adrenaline rush, especially camping solo out here in the wilderness. But this was different. It was as if the fear was sticking to me, like a cold sweat that wouldn't dry. It made me feel exposed, even sitting inside my car with the doors locked. I knew I had to get out of there. I turned the key in the ignition, and the engine sputtered to life, the sound echoing way too loud in the silence of the forest. I glanced up at the rearview mirror, half expecting to see that tall, swaying figure behind me, but there was nothing, just shadows, the kind that seemed to shift and move if you look too long. I drove for what felt like hours, even though I knew it couldn't have been more than 20 minutes, just winding down those narrow, tree-lined roads, trying to put as much distance between myself

in that campsite as I could. The sky was starting to lighten just a bit. That kind of early dawn glow that turns everything a pale gray, but it didn't make me feel any safer. If anything, the half-light made things look even stranger, like the world was stuck somewhere between night and day, not quite either one. Eventually, I pulled over on the side of the road. I was shaking too much to keep driving, and I needed a moment to think, to breathe, to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do next. I leaned back in the seat, closed my eyes, and tried to steady my breath. The car was silent. The kind of silence that made the ringing in my ears seem even louder. I felt like I was waiting for something, anything to happen, and I hated it.

I don't know how long I sat there, but eventually, I decided I had to go back, not to stay, of course, but I couldn't just leave everything behind. My gear, my tent, it was all still there, and even though I knew it was stupid, the thought of leaving it felt wrong. Maybe it was pride, or maybe I just needed some kind of closure, but I knew I had to go back, at least for a little while. The drive back to the campsite felt surreal. The sun was starting to come up, filtering through the trees, and everything looked so normal. It made me doubt myself, honestly. The rational part of my brain kept trying to tell me that I'd imagined it all, that it had been some weird dream, a trick of the world. A trick of the world.

the dark and my own fears. But deep down, I knew that wasn't true. The memory of that humming, that twisted version of my own voice, was too vivid, too wrong to just brush aside. When I pulled up to where I'd left the trail, I hesitated. The car idled, and I just sat there, staring at the spot where I disappeared into the woods the day before. Everything was still, too still. I could feel that cold fear creeping back in, telling me that. me that I should just leave, that nothing was worth going back for, but I couldn't do it. I had to see for myself. I grabbed my flashlight, even though the sun was up, and I started walking. My heart was pounding, and every step felt like it was taking me deeper into something I didn't

understand. The woods were quiet, and not in a peaceful way. It was like everything was waiting, holding its breath. I kept glancing over my shoulder, my ears straining for any sound. but there was nothing, just my own footsteps crunching through the underbrush. When I reached the clearing, I stopped. The tent was still there, just like I'd left it. The fire pit was cold, the ashes scattered. It looked like any other campsite, and for a second, I almost believed that I'd imagined it all, that the figure, the voice, the fear, it had all been some bizarre, waking nightmare.

But then I saw the footprints. They were faint, but they were there. Large, deep impressions in the dirt, leading from the edge of the clearing right up to my tent, and they weren't mine. The sight of them sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt that cold sweat again, the fear that clung and wouldn't let go.

I moved quickly, grabbing my pack, stuffing whatever I could into it. I didn't want to be there any longer than I had to. As I was about to leave, I heard it again, that humming, faint, distant, but unmistakable. It was coming from deeper in the woods, from somewhere beyond the clearing. My blood turned to ice. I didn't wait to see if it was getting closer. I turned and ran, my pack bouncing against my back, my heart pounding in my chest. By the time I reached the car I was out of breath, my hands shaking so badly that I fumbled with the keys. I got in,

slammed the door and locked it, my eyes scanning the tree line. I couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean it wasn't there, watching, waiting. I drove away, and I didn't look back. The backseat of my car wasn't exactly the safest place in the world, but right then, it was the only spot where I felt like I had any chance of keeping it together. I'd parked on a small deserted lane, surrounded by fields, and I tried to remind myself that there was no way anything from those woods could find me here. I even cracked a joke in my head, like whatever that was had a map of all the backroads and whales. But honestly, even my attempts at humor sounded hollow. I curled up on the seat, the car keys clutched tight in my hand, ready to go at the slightest sound.

My breath was coming in short gasps, and no matter how many times I told myself to relax, it didn't help. I tried to close my eyes, but every time I did, I'd see it again. That figure, standing there, swaying like it was just waiting for me to do something stupid. My mind kept playing tricks on me, making me think I could hear that humming, faint and distant. I kept telling myself it wasn't real, but there was no shaking that chill, like the thing had left a mark somewhere inside me. The hours crawled by. I watched the sky turn from a dark, inky blue to a pale morning gray. And with the light, I finally started to feel a little bit of that fear lifting. Funny how daylight makes things seem better, even when they aren't. It was just

easier to breathe, easier to think when the sun was finally up. I straightened myself up in the seat, stretched my legs, and let out a shaky breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Maybe it was time to go back and grab the rest of my gear, then get as far away from this place as I could. When I drove back to the campsite, there was a part of me that hoped maybe someone else had wandered through, that maybe I'd see some other poor campers car parked near mine. I don't know why that would have helped, but it would have made me feel a little less alone in all this. But of course there was nothing, just my car, right where I'd left it, and the forest, looking as quiet and ordinary as ever.

I parked, took a deep breath, and got out. The air was cold, the kind that. that cuts through you even after the sun's come up. I shoved my hands in my pockets and made my way back to the clearing. Every step felt like it was taking me closer to something I shouldn't be facing. But I pushed that thought down. I'd just grab my stuff and leave. Simple as that. The tent was still there, exactly like I'd left it. Everything was in place, like it was all mocking me. I started packing up, my eyes darting around the clearing, half expecting to see a tall shadow in the distance. Every creek of branches made me flinch. Every rustle of leaves sent a shiver through me.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, and it made my skin crawl. I stuffed the last of my gear into my bag, zipped it up, and threw it over my shoulder. And that's when I heard it, my name. Clear as day, coming from somewhere in the trees. My stomach dropped, and my heart felt like it stopped altogether. I stood there, frozen. listening. It came again, a whisper this time, almost like it was daring me to follow it. There was no mistaking it. It was my voice. The exact same tone, the same inflection, like it had been pulled straight from my own mouth. No, I whispered to myself, backing up, shaking my head. No, no, no, I turned, my feet moving before my brain had even made the decision,

and I bolted. I didn't care about making noise or watching where I stepped. I just had to get out of there. Branches snapped under my feet, and I could hear my name again, calling out from somewhere behind me, distorted and wrong, like a recording played backward. My chest felt tight, panic taking over, and I ran harder, my legs burning, the pack on my back bouncing and pulling me down, but I didn't stop. I broke through the tree line, nearly stumbling as I ran to my car, car. I yanked the door open, tossed my bag inside and jumped in, slamming the door behind me. My hands were shaking so badly that it took three tries to get the key into the ignition. When the engine finally roared to life, I tore out of there, gravel flying as I sped down the

road, my eyes darting to the rearview mirror. Nothing followed me. Nothing stepped out of the trees. But that didn't matter. The humming was still in my ears, even over the growl of the engine. and my name still echoed in my head. It felt like whatever it was it wasn't bound by those woods. It wasn't something I could just drive away from. I drove until I couldn't anymore, until I found myself at some roadside diner, exhausted and shaking.

I parked, rested my head on the steering wheel, and tried to catch my breath. But that feeling of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight, wouldn't leave me. Even in that crowded diner parking lot, I felt it, like a shadow I couldn't escape. I never did go back for the rest of my gear.

It wasn't worth it. I know it might sound cowardly, but some things aren't meant to be understood, let alone faced. And whatever that thing was, I wanted no part of it. Not then, not ever again. For a long time I tried to convince myself it was all in my head, that maybe I'd just lost it out there in the woods, that fear and isolation had twisted everything

until I couldn't tell what was real. But deep down, I knew better. The fear I felt, the way my own voice called out to me, it was real. And sometimes, late at night, when the world goes quiet, I swear I can still hear it. This is a Bose moment. You've been there, small talks going nowhere, but then the Bose speaker kicks in. Music you can feel fills the room, and no more chat with Danny from accounts. Your life deserves music.

Your music deserves Bose. Find your perfect product at Bose.com. The air was crisp when we pulled up to Todd Lake Recreation Center, and I remember thinking it was just about the perfect kind of evening for a campfire. The sky was starting to turn that beautiful golden color, and everything felt peaceful. I glanced over at my partner, James, and he gave me a little smile, like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

We were both excited to relax, meet our new friends John and Mary, and maybe even make a few memories worth talking about later. Little did I know, that evening would turn out to be one I'd rather forget. John and Mary were already at their campsite when we got there. They waved us over, and I noticed right away how cheerful John seemed. He had this big, welcoming smile, and he kept talking about all the fun things they had planned,

snacks, drinks, and of course, a walk to see the lake. Mary was quieter, sort of hanging, back and fiddling with her sweater. I figured she was just a little shy or cold, but there was something in the way she kept glancing into the woods that made me feel, well, a bit off, like she was looking for something, or maybe even some one. I pushed the thought aside, telling myself I was just being paranoid. We all settled around the campfire, and it was honestly a lot of fun for a while. We roasted marshmallows, and their dog splashed around in the lake for a bit, shaking water everywhere when he came back.

John kept joking that we should all get in for a swim, even though it was way too cold. Mary just smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. I could tell something was bothering her, but I didn't want to be rude by asking. Then, around 8.30, John clapped his hands together and said, All right, who's ready for that walk? He sounded really enthusiastic,

like it was the highlight of his evening or something. James and I exchanged a look, and he shrugged. It seemed harmless enough, just a quick walk to the lake and back before the sun disappeared completely. So we agreed. The path to the lake was narrow, with tall trees lining both sides, and it was already getting pretty dark. I remember thinking it was strange how quiet everything had gotten. The usual forest sounds, the birds, the insects, all seemed to just, stop. I laughed it off at first.

trying to keep the mood light. Guess they're scared of us, I joked, but no one really responded. Mary was walking just ahead of us, and I could see her shoulders were tense. She kept glancing over her shoulder like she expected something to jump out of the woods. The fog started rolling in as we got closer to the lake. It wasn't much at first, just a little mist, but soon it was thick enough that I couldn't see more than a few feet ahead. I reached out to grab James' hand, just to feel.

feel a bit more grounded, but my fingers brushed against nothing but air. I looked around, and suddenly it felt like everyone had disappeared. The trees, the path, even the fog. It all seemed to swirl around me, and my head started to feel heavy like I couldn't keep my eyes open. I tried to call out to James to marry to anyone, but the words caught in my throat, and everything went black. When I woke up, I was lying on the ground, and it was pitch dark. For a second, I didn't know where I was. The forest loomed around us, shadows twisting in the dim moonlight that managed to break through the fog. I realized I was half on top of James, who was still out cold, and panic hit me like a punch in the chest.

I shook him, my hands trembling, and finally, he groaned and opened his eyes. He looked just as confused as I felt. What? Where are we? He mumbled. His voice barely above a whisper. I didn't have an answer. My head was pounding, and my stomach twisted painfully. Before I could even think, I was on my hands and knees, retching into the dirt. James wasn't much better off. He staggered to his feet, only to double over again. We had no idea where the campsite was. We didn't even know how far we'd gone. But the worst part, the part that still makes my skin crawl, was the feeling that we weren't alone. It felt like a hundred eyes were on us, watching from the shadows, just out of sight. Every time I turned my head, I could have sworn I saw something move,

a flash of pale skin, or a pair of eyes glinting in the dark. James must have felt it too, because he grabbed my arm, his grip tight, and said, We need to get out of here, now. The walk back was a blur. We stumbled over roots and rocks,

our breaths coming out in ragged gasps. I don't even know how long it took, but it felt like hours before we saw the faint glow of the campfire in the distance. When we finally stumbled into the campsite, I checked my phone. 2.30 a.m. Six hours had passed since we left for that walk, but it felt like only minutes. John came out of the tent when we called,

his face half lit by the dying fire. He looked at us with this weird, almost amused expression. When we asked about Mary, he just shrugged and said, She was with you, wasn't she? And that's when I knew, whatever had happened to us out there, it wasn't over. When I came to, the first thing I felt was the cold. It was seeping through my clothes, chilling me right down to the bone. I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing,

dark shapes, twisted branches above, and fog swirling all around me. I was lying on the ground, and for a second, I couldn't even remember why I was there. Everything felt wrong. James? I croaked. My voice barely a whisper. I tried to move, but something heavy was pressing down on me. That's when I realized it was James. He was half lying on top of me completely still. Panic flared in my chest. James! I shook him, and after a moment he groaned and rolled off me. Relief washed over me, but only for a second. in the middle of the woods and I had no idea how we'd gotten there. James rubbed his head, his face scrunched up in confusion. Where? Where are we? He muttered, like he was trying to

remember a dream that kept slipping away. I didn't have an answer. I could barely think straight myself. My head was pounding and my stomach felt like it was twisted in knots. Before I knew it, I was on my hands and knees retching into the dirt. It was awful. James wasn't much better. He stumbled to his feet, only to double over again, groaning. The forest was dark, darker than it should have been. I mean, we hadn't planned to stay out that long. We were supposed to just take a quick walk, see the lake, and come right back. I glanced at my wrist, hoping my watch would tell me something that made sense, but the glass was cracked and the hands were stuck. It was like time itself had stopped. I fumbled for my phone, but it was dead too.

even though I'd charged it before we left. James finally straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked around, his eyes wide and scared. We have to get back, he said, his voice shaking. Where's the campsite? I didn't know. I tried to think, tried to remember which direction we'd come from, but everything was a blur.

It felt like my thoughts were slipping away, like sand running through my fingers. The fog was thick. and it moved strangely, almost like it was alive, wrapping around the trees and hiding everything else from view. And then there was that feeling, that awful, creeping feeling that we weren't alone. It felt like a hundred eyes were on us, watching from the shadows. Every time I turned my head, I thought I saw something move, just a flicker, something pale darting behind a tree. I grabbed James's arm, my heart pounding. We need to go, I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

We can't stay here. We started walking, and honestly, it felt like we were just stumbling around in circles. The forest seemed endless, every tree looking exactly the same, and the fog only got thicker. The quiet was the worst part. There weren't any sounds, no birds, no rustling leaves, just our own footsteps and the crunch of twigs underfoot. It was like the whole forest was holding its breath, waiting for something.

Suddenly, James stopped, his grip on my arm tightening. Did you hear that? he whispered. I froze, straining to listen. For a second, I thought it was just my imagination. But then I heard it too, a low hum, almost like a buzzing, coming from somewhere deep in the fog. It sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn't natural. It wasn't right.

Let's go, James said. said, his voice barely more than a breath. We turned and started moving faster, almost running now. I didn't care if we were going the wrong way. I just wanted to get away from that sound, away from whatever was out there. Finally, after what felt like hours, we saw it, a faint glow in the distance, the campsite. I could have cried from relief. We stumbled into the clearing, the fire nothing more than a few glowing embers now. I checked my phone again, and somehow it had restarted. 2.30 a.m. I stared at the screen, my brain struggling to make sense of it. Six hours had passed

since we left the campsite. Six hours. But it felt like no time at all. John? James called out, his voice cracking. John, are you here? A rustling sound came from the tent, and a moment later, John stepped out, rubbing his eyes. He looked at us like we'd just woken him from a nap. What's going on? He asked, his tone almost annoyed. Why are you yelling? I couldn't believe it. We were shaking, covered in dirt, and John just stood there like nothing was wrong. Where's Mary? I asked, looking around. She wasn't there, and that awful feeling in my stomach just got worse. John frowned, scratching his head. She was with you, he said, like it was obvious. His eyes looked past us, into the fog, and for just a second, I saw something,

something cold and empty in his gaze. She was supposed to be with you. My heart felt like it stopped. I looked at James, and he looked back at me, his face pale. Something terrible had happened, something we couldn't understand. And it wasn't over. Not yet. John's words hung in the air like a bad joke. She was supposed to be with you, he said, his voice too calm, too casual for what was happening. I felt my heart skip a beat, and I swear the world just stopped. Mary wasn't with us. She hadn't been with us since we left for that walk. Where could she be? James and I looked at each other, and I could see the same fear in his eyes that I felt in my own. Something was really, really wrong. John, I said, trying to keep my voice from shake.

shaking. We have to find her. She could be lost out there. I pointed towards the dark woods, but John just stood there, looking like he didn't quite understand what the big deal was. Yeah, sure, he finally said, shrugging like we were talking about a missing flashlight or something. He didn't seem scared at all, which made me even more scared. How could he be so calm? I tried to push the thought away, but a small voice in my head kept asking, did John know more than he was letting on. We grabbed our flashlights. Mine flickered, barely holding a charge,

and we headed back down the trail. The fog had only gotten thicker, wrapping around the trees like a blanket. The air felt heavy, and every time I took a step, I felt like I was being watched. It was that same feeling from before, that eerie sense that there were eyes on us,

hidden just beyond the edge of the light. Mary? I called. my voice echoing in the silence. There was no answer. Nothing. Just the crunch of leaves under our feet and the distant hum of something I still couldn't quite place.

James was beside me, and I could tell he was trying to keep it together, but I knew him well enough to see how scared he was. His eyes kept darting around, and his grip on the flashlight was so tight his knuckles were turning white. John walked a little ahead of us, his pace steady,

like he wasn't worried at all. He didn't even call out for Mary. He just walked, swinging his flashlight from side to side, and every so often, he'd glance back at us with that strange smile. It made my skin crawl. After what felt like forever, we finally saw her. Mary was lying on the ground, half covered in leaves, her clothes damp and her hair a mess.

For a second I thought she was, well, I thought the worst. My heart dropped into my stomach and I rushed over kneeling beside her. Mary? I shook her gently and her eyes fluttered open. She looked at me, her face pale and her eyes unfocused like she didn't know where she was. Are you okay? I asked, my voice barely a whisper. She blinked, then looked around, confusion written all over her face. I... I don't remember, she mumbled, her voice weak. She tried to sit up, but she winced.

holding her arm. That's when I noticed it, a small, dark bruise with a strange puncture mark in the center. I didn't say anything, but I felt a chill run down my spine. What could have done that? And why didn't she remember anything? John finally walked over, and when he saw her, he just nodded, like it was no big deal. Guess you got lost, huh? He said, his voice light, almost amused. Mary looked at him, then at me, and I could see the fear in her eyes. She didn't remember, and she didn't know why she was out here. But John, he was acting like it was all some kind of joke. James helped Mary to her feet, and we started making our way back to the campsite.

She leaned on him, her steps shaky, and I stayed close, glancing back at John every few seconds. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching us, not like a friend, but like, something else something I couldn't put into words when we got back Mary sat by the fire staring at the flames she didn't say much

just kept rubbing her arm her eyes distant I wanted to ask her more to try and figure out what had happened but I was scared scared of what she might say scared of what I might find out John meanwhile went back to his tent

without another word he zipped it up and that was it no concern, no questions, just nothing. I looked at James and he shook his head, his mouth set in a thin line. We both knew something wasn't right, but we didn't know what to do. All we knew was that we couldn't stay here, not after everything that had happened. We should leave, James whispered to me, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. I nodded.

It was the only thing that made sense. Whatever was going on, whatever had happened to us, to marry. It wasn't over, and I didn't want to stick around to find out what was next. That night, as we packed up our things, I couldn't shake the feeling that the forest was watching us, that whatever had been out there, whatever had taken those hours from us, was still out there, hiding in the fog, waiting. And as we drove away, the headlights cutting through the mist, I couldn't help but glance back, half expecting to see something staring back at me from the shadows.

But there was nothing, just the dark, endless woods. We didn't waste any time. As soon as the sun started to peek over the horizon, we packed our things. I could barely think straight. The whole night felt like a twisted dream, but the cold ache in my bones and the bruises on Mary's arm were real enough to remind me it wasn't just in my head. Whatever had happened to us out there,

I just knew we had to get away. James and I didn't even talk about it. We just moved in sink, packing up the sleeping bags, tossing stuff into the trunk of the car. John watched us from a distance, his eyes following our every move. He didn't offer to help. He didn't say a word. He just stood there, that strange, almost amused smile still on his face. It gave me the creeps, and every time I looked at him, a shiver went down my spine.

I kept thinking, why isn't he worried? Why doesn't he care? Mary was quiet sitting on the edge of the campsite, her knees pulled up to her chest. She looked like she was still in shock, her eyes fixed on some spot in the distance, like she was seeing something none of us could. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words, because honestly, I didn't know if they were true.

As we finally got everything into the car, I looked over at James, and he gave me a nod. it was time to go. I walked over to Mary and put a hand on her shoulder. Mary, we're leaving, I said gently. She blinked like she was coming back from somewhere far away and slowly got up. She didn't even look at John. She just climbed into the backseat without a word. James started the car and we pulled away from the campsite. I watched as the fog seemed to close in behind us, swallowing the sight and John with it. He didn't wave. He didn't try to stop us. He just stood there, watching us leave,

until he was nothing more than a shadow in the distance. The drive back home was silent. None of us knew what to say, and honestly, I don't think we even had the energy to try. My head was spinning, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. The missing hours, the strange sounds in the woods, the way John had acted. It all felt like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit together.

And the worst part was, I had this awful feeling that we'd only just scratched the surface. When we finally got home, I felt this wave of relief, like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, but it didn't last long. The moment we stepped inside, the fear came rushing back. The walls of our home, which had always felt safe, suddenly felt thin, like they couldn't keep out whatever was lurking out there. James tried to make us some tea, something warm to calm our nerves, but his hands were shaking so badly that he spilled the water all over the counter. He cursed under his breath, and I could see how scared he really was. It made my heart ache. I walked over, took the kettle from him, and set it down. It's okay, I whispered. We're okay now.

But even as I said it, I didn't really believe it. I could still feel that awful sense of being watched, like eyes were on me, even here, even now. I tried to shake it off. I tried to shake it but it clung to me like the fog from the woods. Later that day James got a call. It was from John. He didn't answer, and I was glad. I didn't want to hear John's voice. I didn't want to hear whatever excuse he had for what had happened.

But then the voicemail came through, and curiosity got the better of me. I played it on speaker, and John's voice filled the room. He sounded, different, almost like he was laughing. Hey, you guys, he said. his tone light and casual, like nothing had happened. You should really just forget about last night, okay? It was just a little too much fun, that's all. No need to make a big deal out of it.

There was a pause. And then, almost like he was talking to someone else, he added, They won't remember, they never do. I felt the blood drain from my face. James looked at me, his eyes wide, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. What did he mean by that? They never do. Who were they? And what exactly had we forgotten? The worst part came a few days later. We were still trying to put everything behind us, trying to move on when James's phone rang again. This time, it wasn't a call. It was a message from an unknown number. It was a picture of his phone, shattered, lying in the dirt between two campsites, campsites five and six, far from where we'd been staying. We hadn't even realized his phone was missing.

We both stared at the photo, and I felt that cold, creeping fear all over again. I couldn't help but wonder what had been recorded on that phone. What had we seen? What had we forgotten? That was the last straw. James and I decided we couldn't stay. Not in that town. Not anywhere near John or Mary or those woods.

We packed up everything, and by the time spring came around, we were gone. But even now, miles or even now, miles or even. way, I still can't shake the feeling, the sense that we barely escaped something far worse than we can understand. I see it in my dreams sometimes, shadows in the fog, whispers that I can't quite hear, and John's face, smiling that cold, empty smile. And I know deep down that whatever happened that night isn't over, not really. Spring just slid into your DMs. Grab that boho look for that rooftop dinner, those sandals that can keep up with you. and hang some string lights to give your patio a glow up.

Springs Calling. Ross, work your magic.