Just Creepy: Scary Stories - True Scary Forest Stories That Will Keep You Awake at Night

Episode Date: September 16, 2024

These are 6 True Scary Forest Stories That Will Keep You Awake at Night 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 00:12:27 Story 2 00:19:59 Story 3 00:31:45 Story 4 00:41:23 Story 5 00:53:03 Story 6 Music by: 'Decoherence' by Scott Buckley - released under CC-BY 4.0. www.scottbuckley.com.au https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wM_AjpJL5I4&t=0s Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #horrorstories #forest #deepwoods #scarystoriespodcast 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀

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It's not just for celebrities, so do like I did and have one of your assistants assistants to switch you to MintMobile today. I'm told it's super easy to do at mintmobile.com slash switch. Up front payment of $45 for three-month plan equivalent to $15 per month required. Intro rate first three months only, then full price plan options available. Taxes and fees extra. Seeful terms at MintMobile. Choose the van life. It chose me. I say that at the end of every video I post on TikTok. Living in my van has been an adventure for the past eight months, but lately, I've been thinking

maybe it's time to settle down. It's not that I don't love the freedom and the peace. It's just that sometimes the loneliness gets to you. Anyway, today was like any other day. I edited a couple of videos, ate some leftover meatloaf for lunch, and played video games until it started getting dark. I parked my van at a campground near the Idaho Rockies, a place I've never been before. It was quiet, peaceful, and totally deserted, which was fine by me. The snow from a recent storm still covered the ground, but it wasn't too deep. It was chilly, but I didn't mind. I liked being out here alone, away from everything and every one. I set up a small fire pit and got a little fire going outside the van.

Warmth from the flames felt good against the cold mountain air. I sat there for a while, just listening to the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees. There were no other cars in the parking lot, which wasn't surprising, since this place was pretty far from any town. It was just me, my van, and the Rockies. After a while, the sun started to set, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange. It was one of those moments that make living. in a van worth it. But then, my radio crackled to life with a sudden weather alert. A blizzard was coming, and it would hit in less than an hour. I felt a bit of panic rise in my chest, but I told myself to stay

calm. I've been through storms before, and I know how to handle them. I quickly put out the fire, packed up my things, and climbed back into the van. I turned on the propane heater and checked that everything was secure. The wind was picking up, and I could see the snow. starting to fall. I wasn't too worried, though. I had plenty of blankets, and my van was well insulated. I even had enough food and water to last a few days if needed. I figured I would just wait it out until the storm passed. The blizzard hit with a vengeance. The wind howled around my van, rocking it back and forth. Snow piled up fast, covering the windows and blocking out any light from the outside. It was like being in a small, moving box surrounded by a sea of white.

I wrapped myself in blankets and tried to focus on something else, but it was hard to ignore the storm raging outside. After a few hours, the van finally stopped shaking so much, and I started to feel drowsy. I fell asleep, thinking about how I would get out of here once the storm was over. But then, something woke me up. A strange silence had settled around me. The wind had stopped, and there was this eerie quiet. I sat up, suddenly feeling very uneasy. Something didn't feel right, but I didn't know what it was.

Little did I know. My van life adventure was about to take a terrifying turn. I woke up to this weird, heavy silence. After hours of the wind howling and snow-battering my van, the sudden quiet was almost scarier than the storm itself. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine, The van was still, no more rocking from the wind.

For a moment, I thought maybe the storm had finally passed. I thought about going outside to check how bad the snow was, but I felt this strange hesitation. I couldn't see out the windows because they were completely covered in snow. I figured the snow was probably several feet deep by now. As I was getting dressed to go outside, I suddenly heard something that made my blood run cold. crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch.

It sounded like footsteps, heavy ones, trudging through the deep snow. My heart started pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. My first thought was that it could be an animal, a moose, or maybe even a bear. I froze, straining my ears to listen. The footsteps were getting closer, and they didn't sound like any animal I knew. They were slow and deliberate, like someone walking toward the van on purpose. I held my breath, trying not to make a sound. I hoped whoever, or whatever it was, would just go away.

But then it stopped right outside the back of the van. My van doesn't have windows in the back, so I couldn't see anything. I just sat there, paralyzed with fear, hoping it was all just my imagination. Then I heard it. Hello in there, may I have a word with you? It was a voice, a little girl's voice. My heart skipped a beat. What was a child doing out here in the middle of nowhere, right after a blizzard?

The voice was soft and sweet, but something about it was... Off. It sounded too calm, too normal for someone who should be freezing in the snow. I didn't say anything. I didn't even breathe. I kept hoping if I stayed silent, it would go away. But the voice spoke again, this time a bit more impatient. I just need a tooth. Do you have one? A tooth. My mind was racing. What kind of question was that? Was someone playing a prank on me?

I couldn't figure out what was going on, but I knew this was no ordinary situation. My instincts were screaming at me to stay quiet and not answer. Then the voice changed. It grew deeper, darker, almost growling. Give me a tooth, or I will rip them from your skull one by one. I felt a wave of terror wash over me. My hands were shaking uncontrollably as I fumbling.

I stumbled around for anything I could use as a weapon. All I had was a hammer, which I grabbed and held tightly. I felt like it was useless against whatever was out there. My eyes darted around the van, looking for something, anything to help me. That's when I remembered the shark tooth hanging from my visor. It was just a souvenir from a beach trip, but right now, it was my only hope. With trembling hands I tore it off the string and moved slowly to the back of the van. I have a tooth, I managed to whisper, my voice shaky.

Throw it out now, the voice demanded, so loud it made the van shake. I slid the van door open just enough to toss the tooth into the snow. Then I slammed it shut and locked it, my heart pounding like crazy. There was a moment of silence, then a loud bang on the back door, followed by a scratching sound that made my skin crawl. Thanks for the tooth, the voice said sweetly, like a little girl again. I heard the humming start up again, followed by the sound of those heavy footsteps walking away from my van.

I didn't move, didn't breathe, until I couldn't hear them anymore. My whole body was shaking, and I felt like I was going to be sick. Whatever just happened, I knew one thing for sure. I was getting out of here as soon as I could. I sat in my van my whole body trembling. I couldn't believe what had just happened. My mind was racing with questions. Who or what was that?

And what kind of creature asks for a tooth in the middle of a snowstorm? I didn't want to stick around to find out if it was coming back. I needed to get out of here, and fast. I scrambled to the front of the van and turned the key in the ignition. For a moment nothing happened. My heart sank, but then the engine roared to life. Relief washed over me. I let the van warm up for a minute, then put it in gear and started driving.

The snow was piled up high, making it hard to see, but I didn't care. I just had to get away from that place. I kept glancing in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see something chasing after me. My hands were shaking on the steering wheel, and my breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. The radio was just static, so I turned it off. I needed to focus on getting out of there. The snow was deep and the road was slippery, but I pushed on, not daring to slow down. After a few minutes, I thought I was in the clear.

There was no sign of that thing, whatever it was. I started to relax a little, thinking maybe I'd escaped. That's when I noticed something in the rearview mirror. My stomach dropped. There was a dark silhouette barely visible through the swirling snow, following behind the van. It was moving fast, almost gliding over the snow. Panic surged through me. I pressed down on the gas pedal, trying to put more

distance between us. The van struggled in the deep snow, skidding a bit, but I managed to keep it on the road. I glanced back in the mirror. The figure was still there, keeping up with me easily. It didn't make sense. How could anything move that fast in this weather? I needed to lose it somehow. Up ahead, I saw a narrow side road leading into a forested area. Without thinking, I turned onto it, hoping the trees would help hide me. The van bumped and jolted over the rough road, but I kept going. I couldn't see the figure anymore, but I didn't feel safe. It was like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest, this feeling of being watched.

Then the van's engine sputtered and died. No, not now. I turned the key, trying to start it again, but it just made a clicking noise. I was stranded. My heart pounded in my ears as the... The silence of the forest closed in around me. The only sound was my own ragged breathing. I didn't dare look in the mirror again.

I didn't want to see what might be out there. And then I heard it, the soft, eerie humming that I'd heard earlier. It was coming from all around me, filling the van with that haunting melody. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. I didn't know what to do. I was trapped. alone in the middle of nowhere, with that thing closing in on me. Suddenly the van door burst open, letting in a gust of freezing wind and snow.

I screamed, scrambling back against the seat. In the mirror, I saw it, a face, pale and twisted with eyes that gleamed in the darkness. Its mouth curled into a creepy smile as it stared at me. I could hear its voice, clear as day, whispering in my ear. Thanks for the tooth. That was the last thing I remember before everything went black. When I came to, I was lying on the cold ground outside the van. The door was still open, snow piling inside.

My head was pounding, and I felt this deep, bone-chilling cold. I stumbled to my feet looking around. There was no sign of the creature, but I knew it had been real. I knew it had been here. I climbed back into the van, my hands shaking. as I shut the door and locked it. I tried to start the engine again, and this time it roared to life.

I didn't waste any time. I drove out of there as fast as I could, not looking back. I didn't care where I was going, as long as it was far away from that place. As I drove, I glanced at the visor where the shark tooth had been. The string was still there, dangling, but the tooth was gone. My whole body shuddered as I realized it had taken the tooth, just like it said it would.

I drove all night, not stopping until I saw the lights of a town in the distance. I don't know what that thing was, and I don't ever want to find out. All I know is that my van life days are over. I'm done. That creature got what it wanted, and I'm not sticking around to see if it comes back for more. My name is Jen, and I'm from Spokane, Washington. I'm going to try my hand at telling a true scary story about something that happened to me during a solo camping trip last fall.

I know it might sound stupid, a young woman heading out to camp alone in a state that's produced 30 confirmed serial killers, but I carry a gun, so there's that. I know it's not complete protection, but it makes me feel much safer knowing that I have that option for self-defense. Last October, I decided to head up to Snow Lake. I wanted to de-stress and unwind with some peace, quiet, and nice views, but I also didn't want the trails to be too tough, so Snow Lake seemed perfect. It's one of the more popular trails in the Snoqualmie Pass area, and to me, it always seemed like a good thing if there were other

campers or hikers around. You never know when you might need someone's help. I'm so over that Choose the Bear nonsense. Tell me you're not a hiker without telling me you're not a hiker. 99% of people you meet on trails are awesome folks. Even the mountain bikers you run into are way nicer than the joggers and cyclists I've met in the city. But, I guess on this particular occasion, I ran into the exception that proves the rule, as they say. I hiked about four or five miles down the trail before making my camp, which I made sure to keep out of sight from the main trail for privacy's sake. I was pretty worn out from the hike, so after setting up my tent, unpacking the essentials, making a campfire, and warming up some food, I decided to call it a night around 9 p.m.

I remember getting into my sleeping bag, trying to make a pillow out of my pack and rolled up sweater, and then... Nothing. I must have dozed off less than a minute after putting my head down. The next thing I remember is dreaming that my sister and I were in the back of my dad's car. I don't know where we were going, but my sister kept teasing me about a crush I had. I kept asking my dad to tell her to stop, but he wasn't saying anything. Then, I vividly remember hearing the sound of a zipper being pulled in the car.

It was super loud, and I looked around but couldn't see where it was coming from. Suddenly, I had a split-second thought, Oh my God, I need to wake up. I'm dreaming, and that's the zipper of my tent I'm hearing. The sudden transition from the sunlit backseat of my dad's car to the darkness of my tent is something I will never forget. I went from unconsciousness to full awareness with one singular thought. Get your gun and get it quick.

I've spent hours on the range with my gun. It's just a 9mm M&P shield, small, easy to conceal, and very easy to use. The only problem was that I had never been in a situation where I thought I might need to use it. My shooting instructor was right. The adrenaline dump is so real. Even with all the hours I'd spent practicing, it was a struggle. to operate the gun and bring it to bear. Meanwhile, the zipper of my tent was slowly coming down. You could hear that zipping sound, almost drowning out the noise of me arming my M and P. At least

I assumed whoever it was didn't hear it, because the unzipping didn't stop until I spoke up. I probably sounded scared out of my mind, but I tried to sound as fierce as possible when I said, Get away from my tent if you don't want to die right here. The zipping stopped, but the silence that followed meant whoever was out there hadn't moved. I told them I had a gun pointed at the entrance, and that if I didn't hear them getting up and walking away in the next five seconds, I was going to start shooting. Then there was movement. I heard someone stand, take a few steps back, and then their pace picked up. I figured they had started running. I mean, I would if someone in the woods just threatened to shoot me. But instead,

I heard them walking away, their footfalls getting lighter and lighter as they got farther away, and then... Silence. I couldn't tell if the silence was because their footsteps faded out, or because they had stopped walking, and were now hanging back, waiting to see what I would do next. The thought paralyzed me. I lay there, gun pointed at the zipper, for what must have been minutes before I finally found the will to move again. since I was only five miles into the trail, I still had some spotty cell signal,

presumably from a tower back near the highway, so I was able to call 911 from my tent. The dispatcher said he could notify the King County Sheriff's Office, but that he could get a couple of forest rangers out to me on ATVs within 20 minutes, or so he thought. He told me not to be alarmed if I heard their engines roaring in the darkness, and to think of it more like cavalry coming to help. and it really did sound like that when the Rangers finally showed up. But those were the longest 20 minutes of my life, waiting in the dark,

listening for any signs of footsteps coming closer again. When the Rangers arrived, I told them what had happened. They took a look around to make sure no one was lurking nearby. They didn't see anyone, but they found the person's trail leading off into the trees. If they were hiding out and waiting for me to let my guard down, they weren't doing it nearby, but that didn't make me feel any better or safer. So, I took the Rangers up on their offer to give me a ride back toward where my car was parked so I could drive home. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened to me,

and for the record, nothing like that has happened since. But I was still really shaken up at the time, and not for the reasons you might expect. I don't know if you've ever been close to shooting someone before, but it's not a pleasant experience. I'd love to be that girl who can sound all badass, telling everyone how cold I was, ready to smoke some pervert trying to sneak into my tent at night. But I wasn't ready. And for all the preparation I'd done, I don't think I'd ever be ready to take someone's life, no matter what they were doing.

My instructor had mentioned that too, how fear can lead to reasoning. You think pulling out a gun will make someone stop and throw their hands up like in the movies, But the real world isn't like that at all. If you're going to pull your gun on someone, he said, you better be prepared to use it. If you're not, there's a chance they'll take it from you and use it on you instead. I don't know how far I would have let that guy go before pulling the trigger. I really don't. I would definitely have shot him if he tried to grab me, or if I saw him holding a weapon

of his own, but I think I would have literally begged him to stop before I finally put a bullet in him. The whole thing shook me up, not just because it was scary, and it was very scary, but because it made me really think, for the first time, about the possibility of taking someone's life. In the self-defense classes I took, the instructor was awesome, but looking back, he only ever said things like neutralizing the target or ending the threat. I know he was trying to shield me mentally from the reality of what I was practicing to do.

I was practicing to kill someone. And let me tell you, that feels a whole lot different when you're actually getting ready to go through with it. All. Pay off your home, travel for life, drive a Ferrari. In celebration of the world premiere of the Monopoly Big Board Buckslot Machine by Aristocrat Gaming, Yamava Resort and Casino at San Manuel is giving one person a $1.6 million dream package. The biggest prize in Yamava's history. Club Serrano members can earn daily instant prizes and secure a spot in the finale May 29th.

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We'd hiked and camped in all the popular places around our town, but after a while, it all started to feel the same. We wanted something different, something that would really give us a thrill. That's how we ended up hearing about this forest way out in the middle of nowhere. Hardly anyone ever went there, and the few who did said it was super creepy and weird. It sounded perfect to us. We set out early one crisp autumn morning. The sky was bright blue, and the air was chilly enough to make us shiver a little.

We packed up all our camping gear into Mark's car and hit the road, excited for the adventure ahead. At first, the drive was pretty normal. We passed by some farms, then a couple of small towns, but eventually things started to get a bit strange. As we got closer to the forest, the trees got taller and thicker. They seemed to huddle together, blocking out the sunlight. The road got narrower, twisting and turning through the dense woods. It felt like we were driving into another world, one where people didn't go very often. I could tell Mark felt it too.

He kept glancing around like he was trying to make sure we weren't being followed or something. By the time we reached the parking area, the sun was starting to dip in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground. The place was small and overgrown. with weeds and vines almost hiding the trailhead. It was like the forest didn't want us to find the way in. I had a weird feeling in my stomach, like maybe this wasn't such a good idea, but I didn't say anything.

Mark and I had done this kind of thing before, and we always came out just fine. We grabbed our backpacks and started down the trail. At first it wasn't so bad. The path was narrow and rough, but we were used to that. But as we got deeper into the forest, forest, things started to change. The trees were huge, their branches twisted into strange shapes

that seemed to reach out at us. The forest floor was covered in thick leaves that made our footsteps almost silent, and it was so quiet, like unnaturally quiet. No birds, no animals, not even the wind in the trees, just silence. After what felt like hours of hiking, we stumbled into a small clearing. It was almost a perfect circle, surrounded by those ancient gnarled trees. The ground was covered in a thick carpet of leaves, and the air was so still, it was almost like the forest was holding its breath. It felt both peaceful and creepy at the same time. Mark looked at me, and I could tell he was feeling the same thing, but we were here now, and it was getting dark. We didn't really have a choice. We set up our tent quickly, gathered some firewood, and got a

small fire going. The flickering flames made the shadows dance on the trees around us. It should have been cozy, but instead, it just made the clearing feel even more eerie. I tried to brush it off. We were just letting the stories about this place get to us, right? But then, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the clearing got darker, a thick mist started to roll in from the trees. It moved slowly, almost like it was alive, creeping across the ground and wrapping around our campsite. I shivered and pulled my jacket tighter around me, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling growing in my chest. We were here for an adventure, and that's exactly what we were going to get. As we sat by the fire, trying to shake off the weird feeling from the mist, something moved in the

corner of my eye. I turned, and there he was, a man standing at the edge of our clearing. He seemed to appear out of nowhere. He was tall and rugged, with a scruffy beard and intense. eyes that made my skin crawl. I nudged Mark, who jumped a little when he saw the man too. Whoa, where did you come from? Mark asked, his voice shaky. The man stepped closer, and the firelight flickered on his face. He introduced himself as Mr. Harold, a park ranger who watched over this part of the forest. I thought it was strange we didn't see his car or hear him coming, but I didn't say anything. Something about him made me feel uneasy. You two shouldn't be here, Mr. Harold said in a serious tone.

This forest, it's not like the others. Strange things happen here, especially at night. Mark and I exchanged a look. We'd heard our share of spooky stories before. Every place has its legends, right? But there was something about the way Mr. Harold spoke that made me feel like this was different, like he really believed what he was saying.

What kind of strange things? I asked, trying to sound casual but not really pulling it off. Mr. Harold's eyes seemed to pierce right through me. Things you don't want to meet. Shadows that move when they shouldn't. Whispers that come from nowhere. If you're smart, you'll pack up and leave now. He stood there, waiting for us to respond,

but we didn't know what to say. It was like he expected us to just get up and run to our car. When we didn't move, he just shook his head and turned back toward the trees. Just be careful, he said over his shoulder, before disappearing into the mist as quickly as he had come. I felt a chill run down my spine. I wanted to laugh it off, but the way he said it, with that serious look in his eyes, it made my stomach twist. Mark tried to lighten the mood, making a joke about how every creepy forest needed its own creepy ranger, but his voice sounded shaky too. We tried to go back to eating our dinner and talking about our plans for the next day,

but it was hard to concentrate. The mist kept getting thicker, wrapping around us like a cold, damp blanket. Then, just when I thought it couldn't get any we heard it. A low humming sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It started soft, almost like music, but then it got louder and more unsettling. I looked at Mark, and his eyes were wide with fear. Do you hear that? he whispered, even though I could tell he knew I. I did. Before I could answer, the humming was joined by something even creepier, whispers, faint, but growing louder, like a bunch of people muttering just out of sight. The words were in some language I didn't understand, but they sent shivers up my spine. It felt like the forest

itself was talking to us, and not in a friendly way. Then, through the thick mist, shadowy figures started to form. They were tall and thin, with glowing eyes. that seemed to look right at us. They moved slowly, gliding closer and closer, and I felt like I was frozen in place. I wanted to scream, to run, but my legs wouldn't move. Just as I thought the shadows were going to reach us, I heard a voice cut through the air. Get out of here now! It was Mr. Harold, yelling from somewhere in the mist. That was all it took to break the spell. I grabbed Mark, and we stumbled to our feet, grabbing our bags. The shadowed seemed to close in, but the mist parted just enough to show us a way out.

We ran like we'd never run before, not looking back, the whispers and shadows chasing us through the trees. All I knew was that we had to get out of there before it was too late. We didn't stop running until we burst out of the trees and into the small clearing where we had parked the car. My heart was pounding and I was gasping for air. Mark looked just as freaked out as I felt. We jumped into the car, slammed the doors, and Mark fumbled with it. with the keys. Finally, he got the engine started, and we sped off down the dirt road, away from the forest. Neither of us said a word for the longest time. I kept glancing in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see those shadowy figures chasing us down the road. But all I saw was the

thick mist hanging between the trees. The further we drove the more the mist seemed to lift, but that uneasy feeling stuck with me. It felt like the forest was watching us, even as we got farther away. Hours later, we stopped at a small diner on the side of the highway. We needed to take a breath, to make sense of what had just happened. We sat at a booth, staring at our menus without really seeing them. My mind was racing with a million thoughts. What were those things? And who was Mr. Harold, really? I think we should call the Ranger Station, Mark said finally, breaking the silence. Maybe they can tell us more about what's going on out there. It seemed like a good idea, so we found the number for the local ranger station

and called them from a payphone outside. When a woman answered, I explained what happened, and described Mr. Harold how he had shown up out of nowhere and warned us about the forest. There was a long pause on the other end of the line. My stomach started to churn. Finally, the woman spoke, but her voice was low and shaky. There hasn't been a ranger named Harold here for over 20 years, she said. He went missing in those woods a long time ago, and he was never found. I felt the ground drop out from under me. I looked at Mark and his face had gone pale. My mind raced. If Mr. Harold had disappeared 20 years ago, who or what had we seen in the forest? And how had he known to save us? We got back in the car, and Mark drove in silence. I kept turning the

whole thing over in my mind, but it just didn't make any sense. It was like we had stepped into a nightmare that didn't want to let us go. After a while, Mark pulled over to the side of the road. I found something in my pocket, he said, his voice shaking. I think you should see it. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, old-looking compass. It was scratched and dirty, and on the back was engraved H. Harold. My heart skipped a beat. I think, felt like I was going to be sick. How had it gotten there? We hadn't seen it before, and Mark swore he hadn't picked it up on purpose. The needle on the compass wasn't pointing north. Instead, it spun slowly, pointing back toward the forest, like it was trying to lead us back there.

I shivered and shoved it into the glove box, not wanting to look at it anymore. We sat there for a while, trying to make sense of everything. But the more we thought about it, the less sense it made. It was like the forest had reached out to us, showing us something we were never meant to see, and now it didn't want to let us go. Just when I thought things couldn't get any creepier, the car radio crackled to life. At first, it was just static, but then that same humming started to play, the same eerie melody we'd heard in the forest. My blood turned to ice. I looked at Mark, and he was staring at the radio. His face white as a show. sheet. Then the whispers started again, faint but unmistakable. They filled the car, making it feel

like the shadows were closing in on us all over again. I wanted to scream, to throw open the door and run, but I couldn't move. We just sat there, frozen, as the forest voice echoed around us, reminding us that we'd seen something we shouldn't have. And I knew, deep down, that this wasn't over, not by a long shot. My dad was never an outdoorsy. guy. In fact, he hated anything to do with nature. He liked his TV, his gadgets, and sitting in his favorite chair more than anything. He didn't even like taking our dogs, Ren and Duke, for walks. If you asked him, he'd tell you he was a house cat and proud of it. So when he suddenly announced he was going camping in the middle of nowhere, everyone was shocked. It was late September when he told us.

We were sitting at the dinner table, and he just blurted it out like it was no big. deal. I'm going up to Roof Lake in the Northwest Territories, he said between bites of spaghetti. I need a change of pace. My mom's fork clattered to her plate and my sister's eyes went wide. You're doing what? My mom asked, her voice full of disbelief. I'm going camping. Dad repeated calmly, like this was the most normal thing in the world. I'll only be gone for a few weeks. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This was the same man who once called a three-hour road trip, an ordeal. Now, he was talking about camping in a place so remote I had to look it up on a map.

Roof Lake wasn't even near any towns or cities, just forests and mountains. I didn't get it. This wasn't him at all. Things got even weirder when he said he was taking our dogs with him. My dad never liked Ren and Duke. They were my mom's idea. He'd always complain about their smell and how they were too noisy. But now he was suddenly all about giving them an adventure, saying they deserve to run free in the wild.

It felt like a joke, like someone had swapped my dad for a totally different person. At first we thought he was going through some kind of midlife crisis. You know, one of those moments when people do something crazy to feel young again. But as the days went by and he kept packing his camping gear, I started to worry. I mean he had never been into camping before. Why now? When the day came for him to leave, I stood by the door, watching him load up the car with his new tent, camping stove, and all the gear he'd bought.

Wren and Duke were already inside the car, barking excitedly. Dad turned to me, smiling in a way that was both cheerful and a little strange. Don't worry, he said. I'll be back before you know it. But something about the whole situation felt off. His smile didn't seem real. It was like he was pretending everything was for. fine, but deep down, I could tell something was bothering him. My mom stood there too, her arms crossed, worry etched all over her face. She didn't say anything, just gave him a long, tight hug before he

got in the car. As I watched him drive away, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I didn't understand why he was doing this, and neither did anyone else. Something wasn't right, but I didn't know what. That was the last time any of us saw him. A few weeks after Dad left, we started to worry. At first, we didn't think much of it. He said he'd be back in a few weeks, so we just waited. But as the days went by and we didn't hear from him, things started to feel strange. Mom would check her phone constantly, waiting for a text or a call that never came.

My sister tried to pretend everything was fine, but I could tell she was anxious. I didn't know what to think. By the time three weeks passed, Mom finally decided to call the the police. She reported him missing, and soon after, the authorities sent a search team up to Roof Lake to look for him. I remember sitting in the living room with my mom and sister when we got the first call from the RCMP. They said they'd be searching the area where dad said he was going to camp. It was a huge wilderness, dense forests, icy lakes and mountains everywhere. Roof Lake wasn't the kind of place you could just wander around without a plan. The days

felt longer and quieter after that. Every morning I would wake up hoping for some good news, but it never came. The police searched for weeks. They used helicopters, dogs, and even boats to try to find him, but they found nothing. No sign of Dad, no trace of our dogs, and no clue about where he could have gone. Then, one day in April, about five months after Dad had disappeared, we got a call that gave us a little bit of hope. A pilot flying over Roof Lake said he saw someone walking along the shore with two dogs. He wasn't part of the search team, but he knew about Dad's

disappearance and reported it right away. The RCMP and a rescue team rushed back to the area to check it out. I remember sitting by the phone. My heart pounding, waiting for any news. It felt like forever before we finally got a call from the police. When my mom answered, I watched her face change, at first, hopeful, then confused. She hung up and told us what they found, Dad's campsite. The search team had found his tent collapsed on the ground. There were supplies scattered around, his sleeping bag, cooking gear, and even some dog food. But there was no sign of Dad or the dogs. One weird thing they found was some boating wax, like the kind you'd use on a canoe. But Dad had never mentioned a canoe, and as far as we knew, he didn't

even know how to use one. The police told us they thought Dad might have gotten lost or hurt and tried to find his way to a nearby town like Yellowknife. But weeks passed, and they searched everywhere, Yellowknife, Prince George, even the surrounding lakes, and still, nothing. As the months dragged on, the hope we had started to fade. The police said he might have fallen into one of the freezing cold lakes or been attacked by animals. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something else had happened, something worse. How could someone just disappear like that? It had been almost five years since Dad disappeared, and by now, most people thought he was gone for good. But my family couldn't let go. We needed answers. So, one last time, we decided to go back to

Roof Lake with a private investigator. Maybe it was pointless, but we had to try. When we got there, the place felt colder than I remembered. The wind was sharp, and the trees, seemed to close in around us. The lake, dark and still, stretched out like an empty void. It was as if the land itself didn't want us there. Even though it was spring, everything felt frozen in time, like the world had stopped the moment Dad disappeared. We set up camp near where the search team had found Dad's things all those years ago. The private investigator, Mr. Harris, started looking through the area, checking for anything the police might have missed. My mom, Sister and I stayed close to the campsite, keeping an eye on the surroundings.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us from the trees. I know it sounds crazy, but every time I looked over my shoulder, I thought I saw movement, like a shadow slipping between the trees. But every time I looked again, there was nothing. That night, my sister and I sat by the fire while Mr. Harris and my mom talked quietly. My sister leaned in close and said something that made my skin crawl. Do you remember what Dad said before he left? She asked.

I nodded, thinking about how strange his behavior had been. Well, he told me something he didn't tell anyone else. I stared at her, waiting for her to continue. She hesitated, then whispered, He said he'd been hearing voices, like whispers at night. He told me they were calling him, like they wanted him to go to the lake. My stomach twisted into a knot. whispers, why hadn't he told us? Why hadn't he said anything? Before I could ask more, we heard a noise.

It was faint at first, like distant barking, Wren and Duke. We hadn't seen the dogs in years, but the barking sounded just like them. My sister and I stood up, our hearts racing. Then out of the darkness we saw a figure at the edge of the firelight. Dad, my sister whispered, her voice trembling. The figure moved closer, slowly, almost too slowly. The firelight flickered and I could finally see him. It looked like Dad, his face, his clothes, but something was horribly wrong. His eyes were hollow, empty. His skin was pale, and he moved in a way that didn't seem human, like he was being pulled by invisible strings. I froze in fear. It couldn't be him, not like this. Dad, I whispered, but he didn't answer.

He just stood there, staring at us with that empty look, and then, slowly, a twisted grin spread across his face, like he knew something we didn't. My sister grabbed my arm, and we both backed away, terrified. Suddenly the barking stopped, and the figure melted back into the darkness, leaving us standing there, shaking, our hearts pounding. I didn't know what we had just seen, but one thing was clear.

That wasn't my dad anymore. We packed up and left the next morning, but I'll never forget that night. I still hear the whispers sometimes, and I wonder if they're calling for me now too. This is a Bose moment. You've been there before. Somebody's apartment, small talk that's going nowhere, plastic up that's almost empty. It's not great. Then someone hits play on a Bose speaker.

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I'll never forget that last night at Camp Break Point. Everything seemed so perfect at first. The cabins had just been fixed up and we were sitting around a cozy campfire. The sky was pitch black with only a few stars twinkling overhead and the fire was the only real light around us. It was just Lila, our camp administrator, and me left. Everyone else had already gone to bed. The night was quiet, with only the sound of crickets chirping. The fire crackled and popped as we stared into the flames, not saying much.

I felt a bit nervous, but I knew I had to ask Lila about something that had been bugging me all summer. I turned to her, and the question just slipped out. Lila, why don't we ever go across the lake to the land on the other side? She turned to look at me, her face serious. We're not the only ones who like to gather around the fire in the woods at night, she said quietly. I was confused. What do you mean? I asked, trying to understand what she was saying. Lila sighed and glanced around, like she was making sure no one else was listening.

It depends on who you ask, she started. I've seen some strange things over there. Sometimes there are huge bonfires, with people dancing around them and making weird noises. Other times people have found things left behind, bones, and they couldn't tell if they were animal or human. But what's even scarier is the feeling you get, like someone is watching you from the shadows. I shivered a little, even though the fire was warm. Has anyone ever come over here from there? I asked, my voice shaky.

No, Lila said. Her eyes fixed on the flames. But that doesn't mean they won't. You have to be careful around here. Sometimes it's not what you see or hear that's the scariest. It's what you feel. A chill ran down my spine, but I couldn't help asking, What do you mean by that?

She paused for a moment before answering. There have been times when I felt this fear. It's like this raw, animalistic terror that just grips you. It's like every cell in your body is telling you to run. It's not like normal fear. It's deeper. like it's in your DNA or something. The feeling usually passes quickly, but it leaves a mark.

You don't forget it. I nodded slowly, trying to understand what she was saying. We sat there in silence for a while longer. The fire was burning down, and the night felt darker and more intense. I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling Lila's story had given me. After a bit, I decided to go back to my cabin. I said good night to Lila and started walking away. As I walked, I noticed that everything was way too quiet.

The crickets had stopped chirping, and there were no other noises at all. It was like the whole forest was holding its breath. A wave of fear washed over me. I quickened my pace, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt like something was watching me, hiding in the darkness. I broke into a sprint, my cabin finally coming into view. I fumbled with the key, managed to unlock the door, and slammed it shut behind me, locking it tight. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. It was probably nothing,

I told myself. But as I glanced out the window at the lake, I saw a flicker of light on the other side. A tiny flame had just started, and shadows moved around it. My breath caught in my throat. What if Lila was right? What if we weren't alone out here? The next morning, I tried to forget about everything that happened last night. Maybe I was just tired, and my mind was playing tricks on me. Yeah, that had to be it. I grabbed some cereal and went outside, hoping some fresh air and sunshine would help me feel normal again. Lila and Tom were already at the picnic table, eating their breakfast. Morning, I said, trying to sound casual as I sat down. Morning, Tom replied, but he looked pale, like he hadn't slept at all. Lila didn't look much better.

I had to know if they'd experienced anything weird too. So, uh, did you guys sleep okay? I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. Tom glanced at Lila, then back at me. Not really, he said quietly. I had this really weird dream. It felt like someone was watching me while they hid in my closet. I couldn't see their face, but they were wearing this creepy mask. Lila put her spoon down, her face turning serious.

I had a bad dream too, she said, slowly. I dreamt there were two people standing outside my window, just staring in. They were both wearing robes and masks. My heart skipped a beat. I had a dream like that too, I admitted. And last night, when I was heading back to my cabin, everything went completely silent. It was like the whole forest just stopped making noise. Tom nodded. Yeah, I noticed that too. It was so eerie. I thought I saw people with torches near the edge of the camp, but when I looked again they were gone. We all sat there in stunned silence, trying to make sense of what was going on. It was like something out of a scary movie, but this was real, and we were living it.

My stomach twisted into knots. Maybe we're just all imagining things, I suggested, even though I didn't believe it myself. It's probably just the stress of the end of camp and everything. Maybe, Lila said, but she didn't sound convinced. We finished our breakfast in uneasy silence, trying to act like everything was normal. But then things got even stranger. When we went back to the cabins to start packing up, we found all our stuff already moved outside.

It was neatly arranged in front of the main lodge, like someone had taken the time to sort through it all and place it there. And on the lodge, in big red letters, were the words, get out and don't come back. A chill ran down my spine. Who could have done this? Why would they do it? Lila's face went pale as she read the words.

We need to leave, she said. Her voice shaky. We need to leave now. None of us argued with her. We rushed to gather our things, all too aware of how quiet and still the camp had become. It felt like we were being watched, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we weren't alone.

As we loaded our bags into the cars, I glanced back at the edge of the woods. My breath caught in my throat. There, among the trees I saw them, shadowy figures, wearing those same masks. They were just standing there watching us, their eyes hidden behind those blank, empty faces. Let's go! Lila shouted, snapping me out of my days. We jumped into the cars and sped away from the camp as fast as we could. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. but I couldn't help but look back one last time.

That's when I saw them again, cloaked figures stepping out from the forest, moving slowly toward where we had been. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen, and I knew in that moment that whatever was out there wasn't going to just let us go. A whole year had passed since that night at Camp Breakpoint, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still lurking in those woods. I tried to put it out of my mind and focus on school and focus on school and friends, but every now and then, I'd have a nightmare about the camp. In those dreams, I'd see the

masked figure standing silently in the trees, just watching. One day, out of nowhere, I got a call from Lila. She sounded tense, like she was trying to keep it together. Jack, I've been having these dreams. I think we need to go back to the camp. I know it sounds crazy, but I need to see it one last time, to make sure it's really over. My stomach twisted into knots just thinking about going back, but I understood. I'd had those dreams too. We decided to ask Tom if he wanted to come, and surprisingly, he agreed. Maybe he was feeling the same way we were. We drove back to Camp Break Point on a cloudy, overcast day. The sky was dark and heavy, like it knew we were doing something we shouldn't be. The camp looked completely different from how I removed.

remembered it. The cabins were run down and the grass was tall and wild. It was like the place had been abandoned for a hundred years, not just one. As we got out of the car, a weird feeling settled over me. The air was thick and heavy, and it was so quiet, not even a bird chirped. We headed toward the lake, where we had seen the fire last year. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as we got closer. Suddenly, Lila stopped and pointed across the water. My blood ran cold. There, on the opposite shore, was a massive bonfire,

just like the one we had seen before. Shadows moved around it, their movements jerky and unnatural. Then I saw it, the boat. It glided across the lake, just like last time, but now there were more figures on board. They were all wearing those creepy masks. We need to go, Tom whispered. but it was too late.

The figures in the boat had seen us. They were staring straight at us, even from so far away, and I felt like their eyes were burning into my soul. We turned to run, but before we could even take a step, we realized we were surrounded. Dozens of masked figures were emerging from the woods around us. They formed a tight circle, closing in on us slowly. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might burst.

The figures raised their hands, each holding a torch that burst into a strange greenish flame. I could hear a low, deep chanting coming from them, like they were speaking in a language I didn't understand. The ground beneath me seemed to vibrate with their voices. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I was frozen in place, staring at those terrible masks. They were so close now that I could see every detail.

They weren't just masks. They were faces, twisted and distorted into horrifying shapes. Lila grabbed my arm, pulling me out of my shock. Run! She screamed, but there was nowhere to go. The circle tightened, and I felt an icy fear like I'd never felt before. It was like the air itself was trying to crush me. Then everything went black.

The chanting grew louder, filling my ears until I thought my head would explode. The last thing I heard was my own scream, echoing in the darkness. When I came to, we were back. in the car, speeding away from the camp. Tom was driving, his face pale and sweaty. Lila was beside me shaking like a leaf. I didn't know how we had gotten away, or if we really had. All I knew was that we had to get as far away as possible. I glanced back one last time and saw them, the figures standing at the edge of the camp watching us go. And even though we were leaving, I knew deep down that it wasn't over, not by a long shot. They'd let us go. They'd let us

go this time, but they wouldn't let us forget. Stitch Fix. Stop shopping, get styled. A plus on the outfit, Miss Turner. You were about to slay parent-teacher conferences. Oh, these? Just the most perfect fitting jeans my stylist sent me. Oh, hello, you, who didn't set one foot in a mall and still looks amazing? Just share your size, style, and budget, and your stylist sends personalized looks right to your door. Stitchfix. Get started today at stitchfix.com. To my stylist. This look dedicated to you. Thank you. Thank you. I've always been fascinated by urban legends. Those creepy stories everyone tells around

campfires or at sleepovers. They're supposed to scare you or teach you a lesson. My favorite was one my grandma used to tell me and my cousin Alex. It was about this car called the Black Volga. She said it would kidnap kids who talk to strangers. Even though it was just a story, it scared us enough to make sure we never went near weird cars. But the scariest story I ever heard was from my Uncle Nikolai. He told it to us one summer when I was maybe five or six years old. It was during a camping trip in the middle of the woods. My mom, Uncle Nikolai, Alex and I went to this campsite near a lake.

I remember it was Labor Day weekend, the end of summer, and the grown-ups were trying to give us one last adventure before school started. Alex and I spent the day running around, gathering firewood, and pretending sticks were lightsabers. We were so caught up in our game that we didn't notice how dark the forest was getting. The trees were so tall and thick that they blocked out the sun, making it feel like we were in a different world. By the time we got back to the campsite, the grown-ups had built a big fire. It was warm and bright, pushing back the darkness of the woods around us. That night, after we roasted marshmallows and stuffed ourselves with smores,

Uncle Nikolai started telling us this story. He had this way of speaking that made every word sound like it was the most important thing you'd ever hear. We all sat close to the fire, the only light around for miles, and listened. He told us about the whispering man. He said that when he and my mom were kids, they had a friend named Travis. The three of them used to play in the woods nearer. their neighborhood, building forts out of sticks and pretending they were adventurers. One night, they stayed out too late.

The crickets stopped chirping and everything got really quiet. That's when they heard a voice, a kid's voice, calling to them, come play with me. Uncle Nikolai said he and my mom were so scared they ran out of the woods as fast as they could. But when they finally looked back, Travis was gone. They never saw him again. The only thing left was the missing posters that went up. around town. Uncle Nikolai said that the voice they heard was the whispering man, a shadowy figure

that wandered the woods at night, looking for children to trick and take away. I shivered as I listened, feeling like the darkness of the woods was closing in on us. I kept looking over my shoulder, half expecting to see a shadowy figure just beyond the fire's light. My uncle warned us, if you ever hear a voice like that, you don't follow it. You run. That night I lay in the tent with my eyes wide open. Every rustle of leaves, every whisper of wind sounded like the whispering man coming to get me. I was too scared to sleep, and just when I thought I couldn't be any more terrified, something scratched at the tent.

I froze, holding my breath, convinced that the whispering man was right outside. Then the zipper slowly started to open. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst. Suddenly, Alex's face popped into the tent, grinning from ear to ear. Got you, he whispered, laughing so hard he could barely stand. I wanted to punch him for scaring me like that, but I was just relieved it wasn't the real whispering man. Still, even after Alex went back to his tent, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone, or something, was out there watching us.

A few years after that camping trip, everything changed for my family. We had to move because my mom lost her job and we couldn't keep our house anymore. It was tough, but we ended up in a new neighborhood that wasn't so bad. My little brother Jacob and I made some new friends pretty quickly. There was Mark, who was a year older than Jacob, and Tyler, who was my age. They had lived in this neighborhood forever, so they knew all the best spots to hang out. Pretty soon the four of us were doing everything together. People started calling us the four stooges because we were always running around as a group.

We spent that summer having as much fun as we could. We played airsoft wars, climbed onto the roofs of buildings we probably shouldn't have been on, and swam in the pool in Tyler's backyard. We also loved sitting around the fire pit in Mark's backyard at night, telling scary stories. I was the one who usually told the stories because, well, I knew a lot of them. The others thought it was cool that I could remember so many, even if they sometimes rolled their eyes at how scary they really were. One night as we were sitting around the fire roasting marshmallows, Jacob asked, Okay, Ethan, what story do you have for us this time?

I thought about all the stories I knew. Then I remembered one I hadn't told them yet, the whispering man. It had been years since I heard that story, but the way Uncle Nikolai had told it made it stick in my head. So, I decided to share it with them. I leaned in closer to the fire and started, Have you guys ever heard of the whispering man? They all looked at me with curious faces, shaking their heads. It's this legend my uncle told me.

He said it happened to him and my mom when they were kids. I went on to tell them about how Uncle Nikolai, my mom, and their friend Travis used to play in the woods. I described how they stayed out too late one night and heard a voice. calling to them, asking them to come play. I could see the way their faces changed as I talked. They went from thinking it was just a joke to looking a little uneasy. When I finished, Tyler scoffed. Your uncle just made that up to scare you, right? I shrugged. I don't know, I said. I looked it up once, and there really was a kid named Travis who went missing around

that time. So maybe it's true, maybe it's not. After a while, we moved on from the scary stories and started talking about something else. But then, Mark's dad brought out a new pack of glow-in-the-dark airsoft pellets he got for his birthday. We were all super excited to try them out. Tyler suggested we have an airsoft war in the woods nearby since it was so dark, and the glowing pellets would look really cool. So, we split into teams. Mark and I would go against Jacob and Tyler.

We all grabbed our airsoft guns and headed toward the old cemetery down the street, where we often played. It wasn't a huge cemetery, just a small patch of land with a dirt path running through it. The gravestones were old and covered in moss, some cracked and leaning over. Trees surrounded the whole place, making it feel even creepier at night. We set some ground rules, no aiming for the head, and each team would take one side of the cemetery. Mark and I ran to the left hill, while Jacob and Tyler took the right. We crouched down behind some tall grass and waited, guns at the rome.

ready. Everything got quiet as we waited for Jacob and Tyler to make their move. The usual nighttime sounds seemed to fade away. My heart was beating so loud I was sure Mark could hear it. Then, through the leaves, I saw something that made my blood run cold. A man was standing just outside the cemetery gate. His movements were strange, like he was limping or didn't know how to walk right. He stepped into the cemetery, and everything went dead silent. I watched him carefully. trying not to make a sound. Suddenly, he opened his mouth, and I heard Tyler's voice calling out, Hey, come over here. I found them. It didn't make sense. How could Tyler's voice come from this guy? I turned to look at Mark, but he hadn't noticed yet. My mind was racing. Was this some kind of

trick? Then the man turned his head toward me, and his eyes, those dark, empty eyes, locked onto mine. Without thinking, I lifted my airsoft gun and fired. The glowing pellet shot straight toward him, hitting him right in the face. The man jerked his head back, then turned and disappeared into the woods. Got you! Jacob yelled from behind me, snapping me back to reality. I looked up to see him standing over me, grinning. I couldn't believe he had snuck up on me like that. When I glanced back toward the gate, the man was gone.

It was like he had never been there at all. I didn't say anything to the others. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. So I lied and said my mom was coming home early. They bought it, and we headed back to our houses. But as I lay in bed that night, I couldn't stop thinking about that man in the cemetery and the way he mimicked Tyler's voice.

It was just like Uncle Nikolai's story, and it scared me more than I wanted to admit. That night, I couldn't sleep at all. I kept seeing the man from the cemetery, cemetery in my mind. The way he walked, the way he turned his head so suddenly, and those eyes, they were like two black holes. I told myself it was just my imagination, that I was probably just seeing things because of Uncle Nikolai's story, but it felt so real like he was actually there trying to lure us into the woods. I must have dozed off at some point because the next

thing I knew, I was jolted awake by a soft tapping sound. At first I thought it was just part of dream, but then I heard it again. Tap, tap, tap. It was coming from my window. My heart started racing as I slowly sat up in bed. I glanced over at Jacob's bunk, but he was fast asleep, snoring softly. I tiptoed to the window and peeked out from the side, not wanting to be seen. My stomach dropped when I saw him, the man from the cemetery. He was standing on the sidewalk, looking right up at my window. My blood turned to ice. He bent down, picked up something from the ground and threw it at the window again. Tap, tap, tap.

A small glow-in-the-dark, air-soft pellet bounced off the glass and fell back down to the ground. My mind was screaming at me to run and wake up my mom, but I was frozen in place. The man tilted his head slightly and opened his mouth. This time, the voice that came out was Jacobs. Ethan, come outside, let's play, he whispered. My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to yell at him to go away, to leave us alone, but I couldn't make a sound. The man smiled, a slow, creepy smile that didn't reach his eyes.

He picked up another pellet and threw it at the window. The glass cracked a little this time, a tiny chip right at the center. It looked like a small spider web. I stumbled back from the window, nearly tripping over my own feet. I crawled into my bed and pulled the covers over my head, trying to block out everything. I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. The tapping stopped, and everything went silent. Minutes felt like hours as I waited for something to happen.

But then, I heard the sound of car tires on the gravel outside. The headlights from my mom's car filled the room, and I finally felt like I could breathe again. I waited until I heard the front door open and close before peeking out from under the covers. The man was gone. I don't know how long I sat there, staring out the window, waiting for him to come back. Eventually, I heard my mom moving around downstairs, and I let out a shaky breath. He was gone for now. The next morning I woke up feeling completely drained.

My whole body was heavy, like I hadn't slept at all. I rolled over to look at Jacob's bunk, but it was empty. His bed was unmade, and his phone was sitting on the pillow. I thought maybe he was downstairs already. but something didn't feel right. My chest tightened as I hurried downstairs. Mom, have you seen Jacob? I called out, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. She looked up from her cup of coffee, frowning. I thought he was still asleep, she said, getting up to check the house. We searched everywhere, his room, the bathroom, the backyard, but he was

nowhere to be found. Panic set in as we went outside, calling his name. I ran over and over to Mark's house, hoping maybe Jacob had gone there early in the morning. Mark's mom opened the door, looking confused. No, I haven't seen him, she said, her eyes widening as she realized something was wrong. I felt like I was going to throw up. I ran back to the house, hoping to see Jacob walking up the driveway, but it was empty. My mom was already on the phone with the police, her face pale and scared. Everything became a blur after. that. Cops showed up, asking a million questions. I told them about the man I saw outside, about the tapping on the window, but they just looked at me like I was making it up.

They said he probably just ran off somewhere, that they would find him soon, but I knew better. Days passed, then weeks, and there was still no sign of Jacob. The search party stopped coming, and the police said they had no leads. My mom was a wreck, barely able to get out of bed most days. I felt like it was my fault. I should have done something. I should have protected him, but I didn't. One night as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, I heard it again. The tapping, tap, tap, tap, tap. My whole body went cold. I turned my head slowly toward the window. There, in the dark, I saw a shadow, the whispering man. He was back, just like he promised. And this time, He whispered in a voice that sent chills down my spine.

It was Jacob's voice saying, Ethan, come play with me. I pulled the covers over my head and squeezed my eyes shut, too scared to move. I knew he was out there waiting, and I knew deep down that he would always be there just outside my window whispering for me to come play. Spring just slid into your DMs.

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