Just Creepy: Scary Stories - Unbelievable Scary Stories That Will Keep You Up All Night! | Scary Reddit Stories, Forest, Cryptids

Episode Date: May 20, 2023

These are 4 Unbelievable Scary Stories That Will Keep You Up All Night! | Scary Reddit Stories, Forest, Cryptids. Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: ►Anonymous ►https://www.reddit.com/user/CannedGlory/ ►https://www.reddit.com/user/BoolinHours/►https://www.reddit.com/user/jayjay3x/ Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #cryptids #forest #justcreepy 💀As always thanks for watching! 💀

I gasped for breath as I stumbled through the forest, branches scratching my face and tearing at my clothes. My heart pounded in my chest, threatening to pop out of my ribcage at any moment. Behind me, I could hear her, or rather, the thing that had been posing as her, sprinting through the undergrowth with an inhuman speed and grace. It had all started so innocently. My girlfriend and I had wanted to get away from the city and spend some time in nature, so we had planned a camping trip in the Appalachian Mountains. We had hiked for hours to reach a secluded spot deep in the woods where we set up our tent and started a campfire.

We talked, laughed, and shared stories under the starry sky, enjoying the peaceful solitude of the wilderness. But then something had changed. It was subtle at first, tiny details that didn't quite add up. The way she moved, the way she spoke, the way she looked at me with dark, uncanny eyes that seemed to reflect something other than human emotion. I had tried to brush it off to convince myself that I was just being paranoid, but as the night wore on, the signs became more and more obvious. And then, as we lay in our tent, she had shifted. Her bones popped and twisted, her skin tearing, and reforming into something that was no longer human.

A skinwalker, a mimic, a creature that had taken on the form of my girlfriend to lure me in and get me. It looked like a human stripped of their skin, leaving only the muscles, tendons, visible. with two empty eye sockets, two backward bending appendages under its armpit. I had barely managed to escape with my life. I had grabbed a knife beside the sleeping bag and slashed at the creature, giving me enough time to scramble out of the tent, and run blindly into the forest, freaking out and looking for an escape. Now I was lost, alone, and terrified.

As I stumbled through the undergrowth, my mind raced with thoughts of what I had seen, what I had experienced. Was this real? was I imagining things had I lost my mind. But the sound of its paws pounding on the forest floor was all the confirmation I needed. I had to find my real girlfriend. I had to get out of these woods. I heard a twig snap behind me and my heart leaped into my throat.

I didn't dare turn around, but I picked up my pace, running faster than I ever had before. My breath was ragged and my legs burned with exhaustion, but I pushed myself harder, willing myself to keep moving. That's when it hit me. Earlier that day, we were back at the car with my real girlfriend, Ames, when I left first to look for a camping spot. She hadn't followed me, but at some point what I thought was her stepped out into the trail, saying she had caught up to me. That thing had stalked me from the beginning. Finally, after what felt like hours of running, I saw a light in the distance.

It was faint, but it was enough to give me hope. I stumbled toward it, my heart pounding in my chest as I drew closer. As I emerged from the woods, I saw her. My real girlfriend in the parking lot and sitting in our sedan, looking up at me with a mixture of relief and confusion. Thank God, she said, running towards me. I've been so worried. What happened to you?

You've been gone for hours. I nearly called the police. I collapsed into her arms, tears streaming down my face. I tried to speak to tell her what had happened, but my words came out in choked sobs. She held me, soothing me with gentle words and a warm embrace. It took me hours to calm down as we sped out of there to tell her everything that had happened. She listened patiently, her expression growing increasingly horrified as I recounted my encounter

with the Skinwalker. When I was finished, she hugged me again, her eyes full of understanding. I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. I was safe for now. But I knew that the memory of the Skinwalker would haunt me for the rest of her. my days, something would always be watching from the woods. It had been a few hours later when I heard from a camping buddy that Park Rangers had discovered a humanoid creature exactly matching the description of what came after my girlfriend. Something had eliminated it.

This episode is brought to you by Netflix's remarkably bright creatures. What if a Pacific octopus held the key to a mystery that could heal your heart? Well, that's Tova's reality. An elderly widow working at an aquarium. Tova forms an unlikely friendship with the crumudgeonly Marcellus, whose remarkable intelligence leads her to a life-changing discovery. Watch remarkably bright creatures with your remarkable moms this Mother's Day weekend, only on Netflix May 8th. Thanks, yours too! What does Ravs stand for anyway?

To me, it's the remarkably advanced vehicle. Really? To me, it's the runway-approved vehicle for its amazing style. What about remarkably adaptable vehicle because of its versatile cargo space? Or really admired vehicle? Oh, or really awesome? vehicle. It really is the recreational activity vehicle. The stylish 2026 Toyota Rav4 Limited. What's your Rav for? Let me preface this by saying that I am by no means a believer in the occult

or the mystics. I'd like to believe that I am of a sound mind and to an extent see myself as more rational and logical than of a particular creative stature. I work at an old, historic hotel in a large Danish city. It's by no means ancient. It was built in the 19th century. and is only historic because of its old age, and because it was used by the Nazis, as headquarters during the 1940s occupation. It is a nice hotel though, and I do enjoy working here. It is beautiful in a very luxurious 1950s way,

and goes a long way to give off that vibe. I only work every second weekend, and the graveyard shift allows me to focus on my studies while getting paid to do so. The job is pretty straightforward. Man the reception for 10 to 12 hours, welcome guests, perform light administrative tasks, open, and close doors for late night arrivals, and once every night I tour the grounds. As I said, straightforward. Of course, every now and again

you get the annoying drunkard spewing their intoxicated ramblings, the aftermath of futile attempts from couples trying to salvage their marriages, strange requests, and odd guests. Nothing extremely unusual or terrifying. I don't think I have ever felt scared or creeped out. I once got super stressed when there was a local power outage, and emergency protocols kicked in, but as a Danish saying goes, You gotta take the sour with the sweet. I am certain there's a fitting English expression, but that's not my strong suit.

Last night, however, something made me reconsider. I am left grappling with the unnerving possibility that my once sound mind may be faltering, or that the world of the occult may be more real than I ever dared to believe. And I'm not sure which is worse. I feel like I must make something clear before I proceed. I don't like leading people on. I am writing this to get advice, clear my mind, and make sense of my experience.

There won't be a huge crescendo at the end of this. Nothing like that happened, it is more the accumulated collection of WTF moments, and the unsettling feeling that something far more sinister is looming, either perceived or very real. Last night began like any other. With just one more guest to check in before the clock struck midnight, I looked forward to a quiet evening of studying. Thanks to a national holiday, our bar and restaurant were closed.

It felt as though the entire hotel was fast asleep, even though occupancy was at 91%. This was great because it meant more time for my studies, and with exams looming, it was almost perfect. I midnight people had emerged and the younger crowd went to the city, and I was almost done with all the administrative work, which meant eight hours of studies ahead. Finally settled with my laptop, I opened Visual Studio and began typing when the phone rang.

Typical. I launched into my standard greeting, but before I could finish, the voice on the other end interrupted me. It was a rough and hoarse voice that met me. It was as though the sound of stones cracking had found a voice of its own, but whatever was said was unintelligible to me. I said something along the lines of connection issues, but again before I could finish, I was cut off, but not by that voice. Instead, the most enchanting, velvety female voice came back to me in perfect Danish, but not modern Danish. It was old. Speaking in an antiquated Danish dialect, reminiscent of

1920s radio broadcasts, asking if I could come and help with the heat as it was unbearably freezing cold in the room. Mesmerized, I answered that I'd be right on my way. I felt drawn to the voice, and honestly, I wanted to see whatever beauty inhabited that voice. Surely, she had to be like an angel. Angelic is perhaps the most fitting word to describe that voice. It made me forget all about the devilish counterpart, which had initially met me. Now, I would have rushed to the room. I actually did but was caught on the stairs. The doorbell rang, and I had to open it. I let the guy in and went back to my desk. I usually wait until whoever I let and disappears into the elevator. He took forever. This drunken idiot couldn't have walked slower even if he tried. It was only

during this agonizing wait that I realized the room number the beautiful voice had given me. 413 didn't exist. There were only 12 rooms on the fourth floor. I can't explain why, but a wave of embarrassment and disappointment washed over me as if I had let down someone truly important. I was determined to find her and make it right. Since room 313 was vacant, I deduced that she must be in room 213. Sure enough, the name, Cecilia, appeared on my screen. Great, amazing. Off I went.

Off to help Cecilia. Angel Cecilia. All jolly and with an extra blanket and an electrical heater in my hand. I turned the corner and saw 213. I knocked on the door. As the door turned, something hit me like a wall. I don't have the words to describe it. The stench.

It was like nothing I've ever felt like before. It had a certain strength to it. Like when you enter a sauna. Instead of heat, it was a wall of smell. Uncooked meat. My stomach instantly turned. And Cecilia, or whatever that woman was, was far from angelic. She wasn't necessarily ugly, but just ordinary.

or resembling a picture come to life, or something else, like an AI had created her and she just kind of spawned into the world. Very uncanny valley. She didn't say anything. Just motioned me to come inside. Every fiber of my being resisted, but I had to. I walked through that thick wall, and she closed the door behind me. I suddenly became very alert. My mind instantly turned on fight or flight mode. The room was fine for me. At least a little. heat wise, maybe even a bit too hot, and I said so, very fast. I didn't look at her. I just went back towards the door again. I put the blanket and electrical heater on the floor and muttered some excuse and fled. I practically sprinted down to the reception, through the lobby, and straight outside into the

fresh air. I don't know for how long I stood there, but I didn't return inside until another guest arrived. I sat down by the computer again and decided to research. I put in 213 and found Cecilia. I looked at the booking and saw a note from my colleague. Guest checked out at 7.47 in the evening. Work thing. My entire body froze. Whoever occupied that room was not the Cecilia who had made the reservation.

Under normal circumstances, I would have headed straight to the room or called security, but this time I hesitated. I didn't want to be scolded by security for not handling the situation myself, nor did I want to face whatever was in that room alone. Admittedly, it was selfish, but at that moment, all I could think was, this is a job for housekeeping, not me. For the next hour, I remained rooted to my seat at the desk, unable to muster the courage to do anything else.

I was genuinely terrified, and I know you might think it seemed stupid or irresponsible, but there was something in that room, something with Cecilia, that just wasn't right. On the flip side, I was now wide awake and alert. To understand this next WTF moment, I need to give you a clear understanding of the hotel's lobby layout.

Upon entering the hotel, you're greeted by the reception area. To the left, you'll find the bar accompanied by a cozy lounge that seamlessly extends into the restaurant and dining hall. On the right side, another lounge area stretches towards the lavatories and eventually leads to the rest of the hotel.

To access the rest of the hotel, you can either walk up the stairs or continue past the restrooms toward the ballrooms, conference rooms, and fitness center. The only indoor entrance to the basement is situated discreetly beneath the stairs. Anyone entering the lobby from the restaurant, descending the stairs, or coming through the main entrance will be seen from the reception. There is no way around it. So now you can understand my utter astonishment when the basement camera's motion alert was triggered. I was wide awake, sitting in the reception. No one had walked by or past me. I turned on the surveillance software to get a complete view of the basement through the camera network.

Nothing there. A glitch. Probably. It was almost time for me to tour the grounds. So why not just start in the basement? Usually, I take that last. But I wasn't exactly excited to go up those stairs again. So down I went. The basement is designed with these tunnel-like pathways.

We have some offices down there and the tunnels were once intended to facilitate housekeeping. Luckily, you can walk the basement in one large circle, but it gets intersected by all these paths, that crisscross. Thankfully, the basement routine only takes me through the circle. As I walked the circle, I was hauntingly aware of my surroundings. Like the uneasiness you feel when walking alone in an unfamiliar city at night, sensing unseen eyes on you and feeling out of place. Naturally, I was aware that the heightened sense was probably due in part to the whole Cecilia incident

and the unexplained camera alert. But still, there was something else as well. It was as if there was a distant humming, most likely because of the machinery in the basement, but it all felt so out of place. Gradually, I noticed that I was becoming lightheaded. It made sense to me as I hadn't had anything to drink since before the Cecilia encounter, deciding that a refreshing glass of water would be a welcome change from the numerous cups of coffee I typically consume during a shift, I aimed to deter into one of the basement restrooms.

As I turned the corner to take the next crossway, I was confronted by the source of the earlier movement. There, in the dim light, a set of animalistic eyes floated. They were locked on me. Completely still, I could slowly make out a shape behind the eyes. It was akin to a cat's posture when hunting, waiting to pound. but the outline was rough with no fur. As I stood there, staring, it seemed almost like it was smiling back at me. I can't explain it.

It was a sort of dream works like grin, unnatural in all ways but trying not to be, like an imitation. It stood there with its cat eyes and cat posture just four times as big with its rough shape and sea-shaped mouth, observing me, like I was a pet. I broke my staring off, and once again, I just nop the F out of there. I have never considered myself a coward

or particularly afraid of anything, but honestly, I think everyone would have done the same. Luckily, it didn't move behind me. Nothing followed me, not even a single sound. In truth, it was as if I had been enveloped in a thick blanket of deafening silence. Like there were no more sounds left.

Until I shut the door behind me, hard. I think under normal circumstances, I'd allow myself time to, adjust, to secure the door behind me, to come together again. I think anyone would, but it was not allowed. As if on cue, the third WTF moment of the night came. I glanced out of the lobby windows and saw the first rays of sunlight beginning to peek in between the beams linking the glass. It felt disorienting like a severe case of jet lag. My mind struggled to comprehend what was happening and as if my body wasn't attuned correctly.

The sun emerging meant I had been in that basement for hours, either circling or staring. I actually don't know what happened from that moment until housekeeping came into work. I think I must have been walking in circles in the lobby. I didn't think straight for that hour in between, completely lost in thought. The terrifying events of the night had left me feeling

as though the very fabric of my reality had unraveled and my distress must have been palpable. The housekeeper, sensing my unease, didn't argue when I asked her to accompany me to room 213 to check up on a guest. My disheveled state must have been enough to convince her that something was off. The last WTF moment came when we opened the door to room 213. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. The room was spotless, no sign of Cecilia, no menacing creature, no repulsive odor of raw meat.

Even the blanket and heater had vanished. Grasping at straws, I made up some dumb excuse of not getting enough sleep the night before and dozing off on the job, only for my subconscious to conjure this horrifying guest scenario. The housekeeper gave me a look that was equal parts disbelief and pity, but she ultimately decided to let the matter rest and headed downstairs. Feeling completely drained after a thorough scolding from my co-worker for failing to do my job properly, I headed home. Sleep seemed like the only refuge from the nightmare,

events I had experienced. I tried to sleep and I believe I did, but throughout my attempt at sleep, I was tormented by visions of Cecilia, her looming, unnatural presence in a series of dreams. Was this merely a recurring nightmare had my lie to my co-worker actually been the truth? There is some solace in that thought. I feel like my own line between reality and my subconscious has become blurred. I am now back at work in writing this, and hoping some sense of control will return by doing so. For now, I am just sitting in the reception, happily surrounded by people in the bar, lobby, and restaurant. But I'm dreading the entire scenery once the clock strikes midnight, and the bar closes. Please help me understand. Just two wheels, two pedals, and you. At Bikes Online,

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I felt confident and at ease knowing that this was just another routine flight. The weather was clear and the flight plan was uneventful. But about halfway through the flight, as we crossed over the rocky mountains, the plane suddenly hit turbulence. At first, it was just a few bumps, but then the shaking became more violent, and the plane started to lose altitude. I tried to maintain control of the plane, but it seemed like everything was happening so fast. I could hear passengers screaming in fear, and the sound of things crashing around me. Before I knew it, the plane had hit the ground, and everything went black. When I regained consciousness, I was surrounded by wreckage and debris.

I felt the pain in my head and arm, and I knew I was injured. I tried to move, but my body felt heavy and weak. As the reality of my situation sank in, I felt a wave of fear and desperation wash over me. I looked around and realized that there were no other survivors. The plane had crashed in a remote, mountainous area, and I was completely alone. All I had was a pocket knife, a small amount of water. and the clothes on my back. I knew that I had to act fast if I wanted to survive.

I quickly assessed my injuries and tended to the ones that were most pressing. Then I searched the wreckage for any useful supplies and found a first aid kit, a flare gun, and a map of the surrounding area. I realized that I had to rely on my own survival skills if I was going to make it out of this alive. As I stumbled through the dense forest, my head was spinning with confusion and pain. I was disoriented from the crash and my injuries were worsening by the minute. I clutched at my abdomen, feeling a sharp pain that seemed to radiate throughout my entire body.

I tried to focus on my surroundings, but my mind was foggy from the trauma. That's when I first noticed the crow. It was perched on a nearby tree branch, staring at me with its beady black eyes. As I looked around, I noticed the sun glinting off the pocket knife on my belt, and I realized that the crow was eyeing something shiny. I remembered something I had read about crows, that they were attracted to shiny objects. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence,

but as I continued, I realized that the crow was following me. The bird seemed to be tracking my every move, and whenever I tried to head in a certain direction, it would swoop down and fly in front of me, calling loudly. It was as if the bird was trying to lead me astray to prevent me from finding my way back to civilization. Despite the crow's persistence, I continued using the map and my survival skills to guide me. But the bird continued to follow me, and I couldn't help but wonder why.

As the days went on, I started to realize just how dire my situation was. I was running low on food and water, and my injuries were becoming increasingly severe. The bird seemed to be tracking my every move, and whenever I tried to head in a certain direction, it would swoop down and fly in front of me, calling loudly. I tried to shake off the feeling of paranoia that was creeping up on me, but I couldn't ignore the fact that the crow seemed to be actively working against me. It was leading me away from sources of food and water, and seemed to be trying to keep me lost in the wilderness.

As I stumbled through the forest, trying to find my way back to civilization, the crow continued to follow me. It seemed to know exactly where I was going, and was doing everything in its power to prevent me from getting there. I couldn't shake off the feeling that the bird was somehow connected to my predicament, and I knew that I had to find a way to outsmart it if I was going to survive. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that the crow was following me for a reason. It wasn't just a coincidence that it had been tracking me for days,

leading me away from sources of food and water. I started to develop theories about why the bird was so fixated on me. One theory was that the crow was simply scathinging for food and had learned that I was a potential source of sustenance. Maybe it had seen me struggling to find food and water and had decided to stick around in case I passed, so it could feast on my remains. Another theory was that the crow was somehow connected to the plane crash. Perhaps it had witnessed the crash and was now following me as a way of guiding me to safety. Or maybe it was somehow involved in causing the crash, and was now trying to prevent me from getting back to civilization. and revealing the truth.

As far-fetched as these theories sounded, I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something more going on with the crow. It was too persistent and too intelligent to be just a random bird following me around. I knew I had to be careful and find a way to outsmart it. I remembered reading somewhere that crows are one of the most intelligent birds in the world.

They are known to recognize individual human faces and remember them for years. In fact, some research suggests, that crows may even have a form of consciousness and self-awareness. I recalled how crows are capable of problem-solving and even using tools. For example, they have been seen dropping nuts onto hard surfaces to crack them open and using sticks to extract insects from crevices. They are also known to be able to solve complex puzzles

and tasks in order to obtain food rewards. With all of this in mind, I couldn't help but wonder if the crow following me me was somehow aware of my situation and actively trying to prevent me from finding help. It seemed too intelligent and purposeful to be just a coincidence. As night fell, I heard the distant howling of wolves in the distance. I knew I had to find shelter fast. But as I stumbled through the darkness, I realized that the crow was still following me. And then it hit me.

The bird wasn't just following me. It was leading the wolves to me. Panic said in as I realized the gravity of the situation. I had to find shelter and fast, before the wolves caught up to me, but the crow seemed determined to make sure that didn't happen. Every time I stumbled across what seemed like a good hiding place, the bird would fly ahead and call loudly, alerting the wolves to my location. I was running out of options, and the realization that I might not make it out of this situation alive began to set in. But I couldn't give up.

I had to keep fighting, keep searching for a way to outsmart the bird, and the wolf. Despite the fear that was gnawing at me, I forced myself to think logically. I knew that crows were highly intelligent creatures, capable of complex problem solving and even using tools. If I was going to survive, I needed to use my own intelligence to outsmart the bird. But first, I needed to find a way to escape the wolves. I knew that they would be able to track me by scent, so I needed to find a way to mask my own scent, and throw them off my trail. I grabbed some dirt and leaves and rubbed them all over my body, hoping to mask my scent

with the smell of the forest. I waited anxiously in the darkness, listening for any sign of the wolves. The crow caught loudly overhead, and for a moment I was sure that I was done for. But then, after what felt like an eternity, I heard the distant sound of the wolves howls growing fainter and fainter. Relief washed over me as I realized that my plan had worked. The wolves had lost my scent, and the crow had been a little. been foiled, but I knew that I couldn't let my guard down yet. The bird was still out there,

and I had a feeling that it wasn't going to give up easily. I woke up early in the morning, feeling a little more rested, but still on edge from the events of the previous day. As I sat up and stretched, I glanced over at my backpack and froze. My map was missing. I searched through my backpack again and again, hoping that maybe I had just misplaced it, but it was nowhere to be found. I couldn't believe it, had the crow really stolen my map. Part of me thought it was ridiculous. How could a bird possibly have the intelligence to steal something like a map? But then again, after everything that had happened, I couldn't rule anything out. I started to feel a surge of panic. The map was my lifeline. It was my only chance of finding my way back to civilization. Without it,

I was completely lost. I began to question whether I could trust anything around me. Was the crow really just a bird, or was it something more sinister? Had it been leading me astray from the beginning? I couldn't shake off the feeling that I was being watched and that everything around me was somehow connected to my predicament. I knew I had to keep my wits about me and stay focused if I was going to survive. But with every passing moment, my paranoia grew,

and I couldn't help but wonder what else the crow was capable of. Later in the day, I found myself looking for food once again. I had managed to find some berries and a few nuts, but it wasn't enough to sustain me for long. As I sat down to eat, the crow suddenly swooped down and gobbled up the last of my food before flying off to a nearby branch. I stared at the bird in disbelief, wondering how it could be so brazen as to steal my food right in front of me. But what really caught my attention was the way it locked eye contact with me before taking off. It was as if the crow was trying to communicate with me, or at least trying to make a point. I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was some sort of intelligence behind its actions.

And yet, as the day wore on and the sun began to set, I still hadn't seen any sign of the wolves that the crow had led me to the previous night. I began to wonder if the bird was simply playing with its food, enjoying the power it had over me. But the nagging suspicion remained in the back of my mind. Was there something more going on here? Was the crow truly just a bird, or was it something else entirely? I knew I had to stay alert and be prepared for anything. As the night fell, I realized I had nothing left to eat.

The crow had taken all of my food, and I was left to face the wilderness with nothing but my wits. The silence around me was unnerving, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was watching me. The absence of the crow only heightened my paranoia, and I couldn't help but wonder what it was planning next. I tried to get some rest, but my empty stomach kept me up. The night was quiet, too quiet. I couldn't hear any animals or insects, and the absence of noise only added to my unease. I knew that the wilderness was full of dangers,

and being alone and hungry made me vulnerable to attack. The longer I lay there in the darkness, the more my mind began to play tricks on me. I started to see shadows and hear strange noises, and I couldn't tell whether they were real or just my imagination. I had to fight to stay awake and alert, knowing that any lapse in my concentration could mean the end of me. Eventually, I succumbed to my lethargy and closed my eyes. I woke up to find the crow perched on my chest, squawking loudly in my face.

Startled, I instinctively grabbed it by its wings, causing it to struggle and squirm. I heard the unmistakable howl of wolves in the distance. As I was about to deliver the fatal blow to the crow, my rage boiled over. I felt a primal urge to eliminate the source of my suffering and take control of my situation. The crow had been playing with me, leading me astray and stealing my food, and now it seemed as though it had led the wolves to me yet again. I couldn't let it continue, but my fury was short-lived as the sound of the wolves shattered my focus. I turned to face the source of the sound and saw three enormous beasts emerge from the darkness. Their size was intimidating and their glowing eyes seemed to reflect an inner.

ferocity that chilled me to the bone. The wolf's fur was matted and their teeth were bared, ready to tear into their prey. As they closed in, I could see the muscles rippling beneath their fur, their movements almost fluid in their gait. I knew that I had no chance of fighting them off and that my only option was to run. With the wolves fast on my heels, I ran as fast as I could through the forest. Their growls and howls filled my ears, and I could feel their breath on my skin. The fear inside was overwhelming, and I could feel my legs giving out from the exhaustion. Whatever healing occurred to my abdomen had been torn open, and I was bleeding fast. Finally, I came to a cliff's edge and had no choice but to jump. The wolf's snarls echoed through the air as I

plummeted down, and I landed with a sickening thud. My body was battered and bruised, and every movement sent waves of pain through me. Despite my injuries, I knew I had to keep moving, The wolves were still out there and I had to find a way to stay alive. I stumbled through the forest, my vision blurred with tears of pain and fear until I collapsed under a tree. As I lay under the tree, my mind raced with thoughts of survival. I knew that I had to stay mobile, but with my injuries and the constant threat of the crow, it seemed like an impossible task.

That's when I spotted it in the distance, a thin column of smoke rising into the air, indicating the presence of a cabin. My heart leapt with hope, but then I heard it. A loud squawk erupted through the forest as I locked eyes yet again with my adversary. The wolves howled in the distance, responding the crow's call. I couldn't trust the bird to leave me alone, not after everything that had happened. I knew that I had to either eliminate the bird or outsmarted if I had any chance of reaching that cabin alive. But how does one outsmart a bird?

I pondered this question for what felt like ours until an idea finally came to me. I remembered the crow's fondness for shiny objects and quickly rummaged through my backpack, pulling out my pocket knife. As I continued to catch my breath, I realized that the crow had disappeared. I looked around cautiously, but there was no sign of it. I wondered if it had given up the chase or if it was planning its next attack. That's when I heard a rustling in the bushes. My hand raised the pocket knife, and I slowly approached the source of the noise.

As I peered through the leaves, I saw the crow perched on a nearby branch, watching me intently. I took out my pocket knife and held it up to the crow, catching its attention with the glint of the blade. It swooped down towards me, but this time I was ready. I lunged forward and caught it in mid-flight, holding it tightly in my hands. As I looked into the crow's eyes, I realized that we were both intelligent creatures trying to survive in this harsh world. I couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for this. bird even though it had caused me so much trouble. As I held the crow in my hands, feeling its warmth and the fluttering of its wings, I couldn't help but be amazed by its intelligence

and cunning. This bird had almost taken my life, and yet I found myself respecting it for its tenacity and perseverance. I looked deep into its eyes, and for a moment it was as if we had formed a connection. It was like the crow could sense my thoughts and emotions, and I could sense its own. I could feel its fear and its desire to live, and I could also sense its understanding of the world around it. As I held the bird, I thought about all the times it had outsmarted me how it had been one step ahead at every turn. It was a worthy adversary, and I couldn't help but praise it for its cunning. But even though I had formed this strange bond with the crow, I knew that I had to kill it. It was a matter of survival, and in this harsh world, sentimentality could get you oft.

So with a heavy heart, I raised my pocket knife and ended the crow's life. As I buried it under a pile of leaves, I said a silent prayer for its spirit. I knew that I had to do what I had to do to survive, but I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the loss of another living creature. Though with the crow gone, I felt a newfound sense of freedom. I made my way towards the cabin, my body aching and my mind weary, but with a renewed sense of purpose. I knew that I had survived this far, and that meant that I had the strength to face whatever lay ahead. My name is Henry Thompson, and I was a former detective for my police department. I've been a detective for about seven years, and throughout my time working at the agency,

I have many disturbing stories about the cases me and my partner solved. I've spent countless sleepless nights on these bizarre cases. I've cracked a lot of disturbing cases that the faint of heart could never solve. But I had my limits, or so I thought. My very first case almost made me quit the agency. Ever since I was young, I always knew I wanted to be a detective. Seeing all the TV shows of detective solving cases always inspired me in some way. My father was a former detective for our city's police department.

He was a well-respected detective, and he was even awarded key to the city by our mayor, but when there's good, there's always bad. With my father being a detective, he was hardly ever home, so I barely saw him. And even if he was home, he would be knocked out on the couch, with his detective papers scattered across the living room table. I could go on about the absence of my father, but the problems only got worse once I got into the academy. Since I joined the academy, I was always a mere shadow of my father.

No matter what I did, I could never become my own person. No matter how hard I tried, I was always a shadow of my father. A part of me actually resented him for it, even though it wasn't his fault. I worked so much during my time at the academy. I was never handed anything during my time at the academy, if anything, they always pushed me harder cause of my father and his legacy. I used the frustration I had built up inside of me as motivation, the lack of his presence, and seeing my mother basically raise me on her own drove me to work harder.

I spent a couple of months training at the academy and was top of my class. I passed with flying colors and I eventually graduated from the academy. As one of few cadets with high marks, the ceremony had, had a lot more people than I expected it would. I stood up on the steps of the stage waiting for my name to be called up. I studied the crowd and my face slowly turned into a small frown. I couldn't see my parents, they wouldn't miss my big day, would they? My thoughts were interrupted by a stern voice snapping me back to reality.

Cadet Henry Thompson of Class 10. A thunderous applause came from the crowd as I walked across the stage as I walked toward one of the captains behind the podium. He handed me my certificate and extended his hand for a handshake. I shook his hand and grabbed my certificate and started walking off the stage. I heard a voice from the crowd that put a smile on my face before I headed off stage. That's my baby. I turned my head and saw my mother jumping up and down almost falling out her chain with

excitement, and right beside her was my father. After the ceremony, my mother basically rushed over to me and hugged me tightly while congratulating me. my mother was finished with hugging the life out of me, my father grabbed me and pulled to the side. His face had a serious look to it as he looked me dead into my eyes. Henry, listen to me and listen carefully. I want you to know that the job isn't what you expect. It's not normal. Trust me. His voice was low and he spoke with a tone I haven't heard him use since I was a child. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit taken aback by his words.

What are you talking about pop? I sounded confused and a little bit. disappointed as I thought he didn't believe in me. The atmosphere got a little heavy as he stood there without saying a single word. The silence lasted what seemed like an eternity before he placed his hand on my shoulder. Listen, son, I'll support your decisions you make in life. Whatever you choose to do, but heed my warnings. This job isn't what you think it is. It will either make or break you. His tone was serious and his eyes were cold and expressionless. I felt my body run cold as he started walking away before I could respond to his statement. I cut the celebration short as I felt my body start to feel weird.

The drive to my apartment was long and quiet. My thoughts were racing through my mind as I tried to process what my father had told me earlier. After some time, I got inside my apartment and took a shower before I started my search for an agency. I spent about a few hours searching on my laptop for agencies to work for, but I didn't fit their requirements. I was about to shut my laptop, growing more and more tired as it was beginning to hit midnight. I reached for the power button for the laptop until a green pop-up ad flashed across my laptop screen. Application for RRA and big bold words. I stared at the pop-up ad for a couple more seconds before I tried to click the X.

My heart dropped as my icon started moving on its own and clicked on the pop-up ad. I tried turning my computer off, but it didn't do any good as the click. pop-up ad took me to a website. A website with a couple of boxes loaded onto my screen with a man holding a badge. RRA, the badge read, some text popped up on my screen. A couple of seconds later I inspected the website. Looking to be employed as a detective. Well, look no further. Here at RRA we look for detectives far and wide to help us solve cases with no tests involved. All you have to do is sign up and come to the address after 24 hours and we'll do the rest. As I took a moment to process everything that has happened in the past few minutes,

an application form slowly started to appear on my screen. Before I could do anything, my mouse started moving on its own again and started filling out the application form. I tried again to press the power button, but nothing happened. After a while, the mouse stopped and submitted the application. An address appeared on my screen mere seconds later. 6.9 Night Eye Street. I said to myself, that was only 30 minutes away from my apartment. I might as well go there and check it out. If it's a fraud, I'll leave. Morning came quick, I woke up around six and turned on the news to see what the weather was going to be today. As I started brushing my teeth, I heard the sound of an emergency broadcast on the TV. The news reporter sat at his table with his papers and

his hands. His facial expression shook me as his face had a look of pure terror on it. As I feared, another disappearance happened in the early morning. This has been the seventh disappearance. Sarah Carter has disappeared from her home. It seems like it was no sign of forced entry. We will be back when we get more information from the police chief. His voice trembling, as the broadcast turned to a commercial break. His face got the expression on his face stuck with me. What is happening? How could seven people go missing within such short timeframes of each other? As I got dressed, the sympathy of the families affected wouldn't leave my mind,

no matter how hard I tried to not think about it. It took me around 30 or so minutes to get ready. I grabbed my coat and headed out of my apartment. The drive to the agency wasn't long, as there was little to no traffic today. That was a blessing in itself. I got to the agency and parked my car in one of the parking spaces and started walking toward the entrance of the building. RRA said on the clear glass door.

I pulled the door open and walked up toward the front desk and saw a woman with light red hair and black glasses on her freckle-filled face. She looked like she was in her mid to late 20s. Definitely looked a little older than me. A hello there, I filled out the application form on your website, and I was hoping I could possibly get an interview. I said while trying to be professional, but I stumbled on my words a little.

She looked up from her computer as she looked at me, giving me a warm, welcoming smile. Jessica, my name is Jessica, and of course, right this way, follow me. She said while getting up from behind the desk she was sitting at and started walking toward an elevator. I followed behind her, eventually stepping into the elevator. We went up about four floors, and she led me to an office door. I hope it goes well for you.

She said while walking back, Henry, my name is Henry, and thank you, Jessica. I said while giving her a little wave. She gave one back and she stepped back onto the elevator, leaving me up there by myself. I took a deep breath before I opened the office door. A man with a black top hat and a black and white polka dot suit sat behind the desk with a small smile on his pale face.

There was also a slight burly man, with long blonde hair tied into a ponytail sitting across from the man in the top hat. Henry, my boy, have a seat. The man in the top hat said with excitement in his voice, greeting me as if we knew each other for a long time. I took a seat next to the man in the long coat and placed my hands onto the desk, giving the man in the long coat a quick glance before turning my attention back to the man with the top hat. Good morning, sir. I'm glad to be here today with you both. I extended my hand for a shake and waited for him to do the same. No need for that, Henry, my boy. Just call me, Sidney,

and you already got the job. His voice had so much enthusiasm as he grabbed my hand and gave it a firm shake. I was a little bit skeptical of how easy it was to achieve the job. My face must have caught his attention as he looked with a surprised expression.

What's wrong, Henry, you don't want the job. He said, his voice had some disappointment behind it as he waited for my response. No, I stammered. It's not that, sir, it's just that I thought it was more to it, that's all. I said while trying not to make myself sound stupid. Mr. Sidney let out a small chuckle before going into his desk drawer,

pulling out a black vest, and a small badge. The same badge that has the RRA initials on it, but this one was different. This one also had my name on it. Here you go, Henry, this is all you would ever need. Mr. Gordon Truman will be your partner from now on, if you ever need anything. Don't be afraid to ask him. Mr. Sidney said, while going through a file, and grabbing a somewhat thick file and placing it onto the desk in front of us.

This is your very first case, enjoy Henry, my boy. And Henry, be careful and listen to your partner at all times. His voice deepened almost sounding a little demonic. His face quickly turned into the same friendly expression he showed back when I first entered the office. Mr. Truman got up from his seat and headed toward the door, waiting for me to follow him out. I follow behind him as he leads me to another office. Welcome to our office, Henry. Don't make yourself too comfortable. We're going to be heading out soon. Mr. Truman said while taking off his coat and sitting down at his desk while examining the case file.

I sat down at my desk and watched as he examined the case files for a couple of minutes. He finally broke the silence as he motioned for me to sit down at his desk. I promptly got up and walked toward his desk, taking a quick glance at the file myself. It was files on all the people that have went missing for the past few weeks. There was even a small file for the recent missing person, Sarah Carter. I'm aware that you've heard of the people that have went missing. He said while taking some of the files out of the folder and placing them in front of me. Yes, Mr. Truman I've heard of the recent disappearances,

and it's a shame honestly, their families must be devastated by it all. I said while holding my head down in sympathy, it truly is a tragedy having a family remember go missing. The longer we take here is the shorter to find these people, in one piece that is. Mr. Truman said while standing up, grabbing the files and a pair of car keys, Let's go, the clock is ticking and time is not on our side. He walked over toward the door and I followed behind. As we got out the building, a bright red Dodge charger sat there parked next to my somewhat beat-up Toyota. My car would be the better option, and I have a little welcoming gift for you. He walked up to the trunk of his car and rummage through his trunk. He eventually

walked up to me and handed me a Smith and Wesson Model 29, at True Beauty. I accepted the gift and inspected it as it was in perfect condition. As we got into the car, I decided to take a look over the case files again. Mr. Truman started to drive to a somewhat unfamiliar location to me. Where are we going? I asked with a hint of worry in my voice. Going to the scene of the crime obviously. He said while gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, it seems like he was a veteran of such as he instantly got straight to the case without procrastinating. How long have you been working at the agency for? I asked trying to make small talk as we were driving a bit far. About 12 years, I've been thinking about hanging it up, though. I just want to take the wife to the

beach and spend more time with the kids, you know. He said while breaking contact with the road and gave me a look. Yay, I know. I know this job will have you away from your family. And 12 years. How many cases have you solved? I asked as I was surprised by his response. Too many to count, I've seen countless things people shouldn't know about. A truly disturbing thing. He said as his face was expressionless. My curiosity got the better of me and I asked a question I shouldn't have asked. What was one of the worst cases you were a part of? I asked hoping to learn a little more about what kind of cases the agency gives to the detectives. A lady about mid-40s was complaining she saw eyes watching her from her backyard.

Cops didn't believe her so she called our agency, me and my former partner were. He paused in his speech, his face showed an expression of distraught. We were too late, we found her a red heap on our kitchen floor, being mauled by a bunch of small gray hellish creatures. My heart was racing like crazy, but my partner had got them before I could even react to what was going on. He said while keeping his eyes on the road. My eyes widened at his story and felt a chill run down my spine. Hellish creatures. That couldn't be possible, could it? Monsters, there's no such thing. Are you sure that's what you had seen that day? I managed to blur out. My voice is

visibly shaken up by what I just heard. Mr. Truman gave a small smile before he spoke his next words. You might as well know what you've gotten into. This job isn't about solving human cases. it's about solving monster or other worldly creatures. His face lit up a bit as he looked over at me. My heart felt heavy like it weighed down the rest of my body. I felt terror form on my face as I put the pieces together. I had felt the same feeling you're going through right now, not knowing what I had signed up for until I saw firsthand.

He said while focusing on the road, my mind was racing all over the place. It couldn't be that, was this what my father was talking about. Before I could come up with any more accusations, the car finally came to a stop outside of a small blue house. Posh and tape was everywhere and even a few police officers were still lingering. We're here. If you want a chance to find the missing people alive, then you better pull yourself together and start acting like a detective. You get it.

Mr. Truman said while grabbing the case file and getting out of the car. I was still in the car with my mind racing a million miles per hour, but he was right. If I wanted to help find the missing people, I'd have to pull myself together. I got out of the car and followed behind Mr. Truman. A police officer who was guarding the front door of the small house moved aside when Mr. Truman flashed his badge at him. Once we got inside the home, Mr. Truman started walking around observing the crime scene. I headed back to the front door and started observing the locks, even though the report file says there was no forced entry. The culprit had to have gotten somehow.

I inspected the door, but found nothing. No scratch marks, no broken locks. I made my way back to the living room. Henry, I heard a voice call from the other side of the house. I rushed to where the voice came from. Once I got to the room, I saw Mr. Truman on one knee inspecting something on the ground. A faint trail of red was emerged into the carpet, and it was leading toward the back door. Mr. Truman followed the trail to the back door where the faint trail ended.

So she was taken out the back door. That's a start I guess. I said while trying to take a step forward, but Mr. Truman's hand stopped me. Wait, he said while pulling out what looks like a flashlight from out of his coat pocket, he turned it on and started shining it around the back door. As he shined the light on the doorframe, I felt my heart drop all the way to my stomach and my knees got weak. Even Mr. Truman was shocked as his eyes widened a little.

The doorframe and the nearby walls covered with red handprints and faint scratch marks. How could this be possible? Why couldn't we see the scratch marks and red handprints without the flashlight? I said while I felt my heart beating faster, Mr. Truman regained himself as he stood up and opened the back door before he let out a loud gasp. As I followed him out of the back door, a shiver ran down my spine as I braced myself against the doorframe, as my knees were about to give in. The backyard had crimson splattered all against the fence. A large chunk of the grass was dug up and dirt covered a part of the back. A chunk of the fence was destroyed and part of the fence was in the forest nearby. The atmosphere felt heavy. I felt my mouth get dry and numb.

I couldn't process what was going on. Mr. Truman inspected the backyard with the special flashlight and managed to find more scratch marks and hand prints. Henry, pull yourself together and come take a look at this. Mr. Truman said while standing in front of a half broken part of the fence, I struggled to stand, But as I could stand I made my way toward Mr. Truman, avoiding all the red stains on the ground. Once I got over to him, he shined the flashlight, and what I saw made my heart drop all the way to my stomach. A massive handmark was on the fence.

The claw print was just as big as the handprint. Mr. Truman put the flashlight back into his pocket, and pulled out a small notepad and started writing down something. No more leads. This is all the evidence we've got so far. He said while putting the note pad back into his coat pocket, I'm starting to have doubts that the missing people are still alive. I said while taking another look at the yard, I would be lying to you if I told you to keep faith.

This is real life, Henry, there's no fairy tale endings to some stories. He said while turning back around and started walking back toward the house, he was right, there was no chance in hell that girl would have survived whatever had got to her. There was too much crimson spilled, and by the looks of her, at whatever attacked Sarah was huge. I eventually followed behind Mr. Truman back into the house and lingered around for a little, making sure we didn't miss anything. All the police already left by this point. If you ask me, I would rather not have let them see what me and Mr. Truman saw. Those poor people, if they are still alive, they must be scared out of their minds. It's still unknown

what exactly took them, but it's our job to find out what happened and to put an end to it. As we reviewed the evidence, Mr. Truman's phone started ringing. Once he answered, I slightly heard a voice on the other end. I watched as Mr. Truman's face went from normal to his eyes widening and shocked. Before I could ask, he grabbed me and started rushing toward his car. He basically jumped in the car as I got in as well. He jammed his keys into the ignition and pulled off with such force. I almost had hit my head on the dashboard.

What's going on? I asked while trying not to sound. too shaken up, but by the way he was acting it made me terrified. As he started speeding down the almost empty road, he quickly turned to me with a shaken look on his face. A man called the agency. He said there's banging and loud growling at his back door. It has to be our culprit. He said while turning his attention back to the road. I felt my body sink in as his words hit my body like a truck. I felt the sweat run down my forehead. I didn't want to face whatever was taking people, but I knew if we didn't, it would keep happening.

After some time, we pulled up to a mailbox, and a little farther in the forest you can see a house in the distance. Mr. Truman quickly got out of the car and ran toward the trunk and started rummaging around. Henry, hurry up and get down there and make sure the man inside the house is all right. We can't afford to let this man pass. He said still rummaging around. My heart felt weak, but it was no time to chicken out. I pulled the Smith and Wesson from my hip and started running to the house.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared. I made it to the house and started knocking on the door. Hello, sir, I'm an agent from RRA. My partner and I were sent to make sure you were safe. I said while leaning against the front door, I heard low-pitched growls and screaming from inside the house and felt my heart stopped beating. I quickly snapped out of it and started kicking the door.

After the fourth kick, the door fell, and what I saw scared me to my core. A grayish humanoid creature stood about eight feet tall. Its claws were sharp and big. Its face was split by its sharp teeth running down its face. Its legs were long and twisted. Its tail was long and had marks running down it. It looked over toward me but kept walking at the man who was huddled in the corner, shaking with fear. My arms felt weak as I tried to raise my weapon up, but my arms didn't budge.

I stood frozen with fear. The creature was about a couple of feet away from the man. The man's screams brought me back. I raised my smith and wesson and pulled the trigger. As I shot my weapon, the creature let out a loud, curdling scream as it spun around, and locked eyes with me. Oh, God, its eyes.

They were completely red with hatred for me causing it pain. Before it could do anything, I pulled the trigger two more times. Sending the creature into a screaming frenzy, I tried firing at the creature again, but my weapon jammed. It got back up and started running toward me, knocking me into the wall. It felt like I was hit by a freight train. My ribs felt like they were hit with a metal rod, as it was harder for me to breathe. The creature managed to slash me with its claw across my back, ripping my coat as I tried

rolling out of the way. Its claw was sharp and I felt something warm run down my back. The creature slowly started moving toward me. I started crawling away frantically, trying to be. to find my weapon without breaking eye contact with the creature. It knew it had me where it wanted, it was toying with me. As it was about to pounce, a loud boom came from behind the creature, making the creature run past me and through the back door screaming in pain. It was Mr. Truman and he had a 12-gauge shotgun in his hands as he ran out of the back door and chase of the creature.

Are you okay, young man? The man said while leaving from the corner he was hiding in, Go to our car and wait for us there, sir. It's not safe while that thing is still alive. I said while holding my side, I attempted to get up but fell back down, clenching my ribs. The man walked over toward me and helped me up to my feet. He handed me my weapon. I made my way through the back door and quickly looked from Mr. Truman. I heard multiple shots and a loud yell not too far away from the house. I started running in the direction where the noise came from. The pain in my ribs was slowing me down, but I kept running.

I heard another yell and saw the creature on top of Mr. Truman slashing at him with its long razor-sharp claws. I took aim and once again pulled the trigger. The creature turned its attention from Mr. Truman onto me as once again the creature's eyes locked on to me. It started charging at me, and I started squeezing the trigger until I heard clicking. But the creature was still standing. It was like it was unfazed by my bullets. The creature was about ten feet away from me. I tried to reload my weapon and I managed to drop some of the bullets onto the ground.

I felt true fear as the creature was only a couple feet from me. My body shook with fear. When I raised my weapon up, it was already in the air and pounced on me. I felt its weight on my body, almost crushing me. It tried to bite me with its sharp teeth, but I managed to grab a stick. I held a stick to give some space between us. Its breath was rancid. I used all my strength keeping it away from me, but it slowly was.

started overpowering me. My ribs went completely numb as I couldn't feel them. Is this how I go? To a creature on my first case. What would my mother do if she had to bury me? My heart was pounding as I started losing my strength. It was going to eliminate me. An ear-deafening noise rang out from behind me as I felt the creature go limp and fall to the side. I managed to look up and saw an injured Mr. Truman with the 12-gauge shotgun in his left arm. His face had a long gacket in it and he took a step closer to me and extended his hand out to. Are you all right, Henry? He asked while dropping his weapon on the ground.

I held my side with my left arm and accepted his help. I think I broke my ribs, but I think I'll live. I said while wiping the crimson from my face, I took a look at the creature as it laid there in the grass. What do we do with it? I asked while looking at Mr. Truman waiting for his response. We don't do anything with it. the police will get rid of it for us.

He said while walking back to the car, we managed to get back to the agency, Mr. Truman said he would finish the summary part of the case and turn it into Mr. Sidney for me. I checked myself into the hospital for my injuries. I later found out I broke four of my ribs. I was able to leave the hospital a couple of hours later. I decided to go home and rest.

Once I got home, it was clear that the missing people were no longer here with us. They were never. It still disturbs me, even all these years later looking back at my time as an agent for RRA. Nightmares plagued my mind since I first joined the agency. All I could dream about was the monsters I encountered, they still frightened me to this very day. Even after all these years later,