Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I know what's killing the campers. Now it wont let me leave | Scary Stories

Episode Date: May 27, 2024

There's something evil hiding in these woods... Story from Saturdead Make sure to check out more of their work at u/Saturdead  Cover Art from Ninerio More of their works at ninerioarts                   Original YouTube link: I know what's killing the campers. Now it wont let me leave     Merch: lighthousehorror.com  For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

I was 15 years old when I saw the things in the woods. I never really believed in that stuff. Campfire stories, spirits, cryptids, whatever you call them. I always had a logical explanation for everything. That all changed the last time my dad took me hunting. It was two months before my 15th birthday. My dad was taking me hunting in a state park over in Logan County, West Virginia. I had little to no idea what was going on.

I just knew I had to try along. He took me to target practice a couple times, but we ended up spending most of our time discussing gun safety. Dad had been sick on and off for a long time. He'd had a work accident and just started to really recover. This would be our first outing in almost two years, and the whole family was excited for it, for different reasons. It was an early September morning when we set out. Mom waved goodbye from the kitchen window. Dad had packed enough stuff to cover us for a whole week, but we were only going away for the weekend.

We pulled into a drive-thru, got some lunch, and met up with his hunting buddies. There was Cisco, a man in his late 50s, mostly worked in accounting and had no concept of how to speak at any appropriate volume. And then there was Abe. He was in his mid-40s, and he had some relation to Cisco, but I never really understood what it was. I think Cisco was married to his older sister, I don't know. And finally there was Hugo. He was new in my dad's work and just kind of wanted to belong somewhere. Guy was quiet as a mouse and he had this intense raccoon-like face.

It was a long trip. I was on co-pilot duty, meaning I was to respond to any tax and provide snacks to the driver. And of course, in charge of music. It was exactly what I wanted out of that trip. The hunting itself, I don't know, wasn't that important. It was nice to just see him happy again. This was his element, you know, something he'd done with his dad, and that he was doing with me now. We were the last to arrive.

Cisco and Abe had packed enough for a small company of soldiers. Hugo barely had anything at all. Dad parked, shut the music off, and from that point on, It was all business. I wasn't that amped about it. We double-checked our equipment and set out due west. Cisco and Abe took a point with the rest of us following in a line. I zoned out for most of it, to be honest.

I drowned myself in music and texting. Dad was busy talking to his hunting buddies, and Hugo wasn't much company anyway. We went deeper and deeper into the park. I didn't even realize until three. hours in that I did not have the slightest idea where we were. We'd followed so many off paths that we could have ended up anywhere. It was somewhere around lunch when we decided to make camp. My feet were already sore from the new boots.

Cisco gathered rocks for the campfire while Dad and Abe started to plot out where to go next. It was decided that we were splitting up in teams. I was going with my dad. but went with Hugo, and Cisco, well, he went on his own. He was by far the most experienced out of all of us, and we all knew that he won't catch anything if he went with someone. The man just couldn't control his voice. I jumped every time he talked. Well, we didn't do any actual hunting that afternoon. We spent some time just getting to know the area. I had no idea what to look for, But Dad kept pointing at things and telling me how close we were, how these were telltale

signs I couldn't really follow. But I tried to be supportive. I had not seen him so enthusiastic about anything and forever. We ended up looking across a clearing somewhere around dinner time. Dad had this can of Vienna sausages that we shared. On the far side of the field, there was a thin stream running along the tall grass, That's where we'll spot him in the morning, he said, guaranteed. We spent the rest of the day trekking along the edges of the field, trying to find a good spot.

We ended up making a dig on the eastern side, so we wouldn't get the morning sun in our eyes. We made a wind shelter from pine branches and moss big enough for both of us. Heading back to camp, we went through our checklist of gun safety protocols again, And again, and again, as we did, there was a loud bang somewhere off in the distance. We both stopped. We knew the others had brought their guns along, but had they already found something? That was unlikely. Dad put a hand on my chest, signaling me to stop.

Could be other hunters, he said. Got to stay on your toes. We all met up at base camp. Dad went around asking the others which one was the mysterious shooter, but nobody fessed up. Could have been anyone, really. Abe and Hugo had split up to check different areas, and Cisco was off on his own. I figured it was Hugo that fired a shot accidentally and didn't want to make a scene.

He kind of had the look of it. At night, they all shared some hunting stories, mostly Cisco. mostly Cisco. He went on and on about hunting alligators from a riverboat, how we wouldn't believe the size of those things, and how they were big enough to swallow a man's torso in a single bite. When that stopped impressing us, he went on to talk about sport fishing, Atlantic yellowfin tuna. I turned in early that night. Dad got me my own tent, so I spent most of my time watching stuff on my phone. We had chargers and solar, but I hadn't unpacked it.

Once the batteries ran out, I just lay there on my back, waiting to fall asleep. It was a terrible sleep at best. I'd accidentally set the tent up on some kind of route, leaving me with a bruise on my right shoulder. There was also the constant buzzing of a wasp beside my head, I think. The thing didn't get through the tent, but my... My God, it tried. We got up just before sunrise.

It felt like I just barely shut my eyes, but Dad, he was at the top of his game. He was bouncing between the tents. He was humming and double checking not only his own equipment, but everyone's. That whole morning was basically just my dad trying to get us excited. Hell, even Cisco was tired. We had breakfast, went over our plans, and got into the game. It was game time and the sun wasn't even up yet. I was half asleep all the way out there.

I almost tripped twice, but Dad pressed on. We got to our makeshift shelter and made ourselves comfortable. Dad kept talking about the direction of the wind and various techniques he used. I was trying to pay attention, but I don't know, I kept nodded off. He didn't seem to mind, though. I think he was just happy to be there. I don't know how long we waited. After a while, as things turned quiet, I couldn't really tell the time anymore.

All sort of blended together. At some point, Dad elbowed me. And there they were. Six of them in total. Three doze, two yearlings, and a buck, all strolling into the middle of the field without care in the world. Dad nodded at me and eyed the rifle. You're up, he said with a pat.

We had about 55 to 60 yards distance and a clear view. I was nervous, though. Really nervous. We practiced plenty, but this was different. I could imagine them scattering to the wind and our one shot at this blowing up in our face. Dad didn't seem to care, though. But, I don't know, I wanted to make him proud. I brought the gun out and rested my head, letting the whole iron sight fill my view.

I felt the weight of the trigger as I brushed my finger against it. Inhale, exhale, you got this. And then, a gunshot. And it wasn't mine. The deer thundered off into the woods. Dad just lay there slap-jawed. There was no way to tell where it'd come from, but it was close. Maybe someone had taken a shot at the same deer as us.

We looked across the field for someone to stand up or show themselves, but there was nothing out there. Dad put a hand on my shoulder. That's not on you, he said. I don't know what the hell that was. We tried to reach the others through our walkie-talkies. Cisco reported in first. Apparently, he'd heard the same thing, but from a far different angle.

Hugo reported in too, telling us the shot had been close. And finally, we waited for Abe. But nothing came through. We waited longer, listening to the static. Cisco interjected with the occasional Abe check-in, but we got nothing in response. Hugo, where the hell are you? growled Cisco. You were supposed to partner up. Hugo's voice crackled through the radio, explaining how they were by the cliffs.

Cisco said through the static. Hugo tried to explain, but Cisco cut him off. I could hear a tremble in his voice. Just answer the damn question. Cisco roared. Dad shot me a look. Cisco was always loud, but this was something new. Hugo met up with us over at the Southern Trail.

We followed it for a good 45 minutes, calling out to Abe as we went. The quiet stutter of the walkie-talkie felt like getting poked by an icicle. It started to dawn on me that this might turn from a hunting trip into a rescue mission. We all moved up the trail, stepping over fallen trees and brush. As the forest breath, we could see further and farther ahead. It was quiet, like something had scared off the birds. We spread out for a search, not by a lot, but enough to cover some ground. We still had eye contact with each other.

Dad asked me to stay close, but I wanted to help. So I took the space in the middle. Everyone called out to Abe, not caring about the deer or other wildlife we spooked. But apart from a few strange red birds perching on a nearby pine, there was nothing around to spook. And the birds didn't really seem to care about us. After a while, didn't even sound like a name anymore. Just became this call like Abe, Abe, Abe. And then I saw something.

I thought it was a log at first. But it wasn't. As I got closer, I was met with Abe's eyes looking up at May. They didn't blink. It looked like he just tripped and was about to get up, but he wasn't moving. He had his neck at a weird angle, like he was trying to brush something off his ear with his shoulder. And then I noticed the bullet wound. straight through the heart.

I'd never seen one before, not on anything living. Not like this. To this day, I can't stop thinking about that first second when I realized what I was looking at, the absolute panic running through my lungs, causing my words to just freeze. I stopped and stared at him, watching the unmoving eyes.

and how they seemed to watch me. I didn't realize I'd stopped yelling his name. The others rushed over. Dad put his hand over my eyes, turning me away. I could still see Abe's face behind my eyes. Hugo started making this wailing noise, and Cisco just turned deathly quiet. Cisco immediately turned to Hugo, taking his rifle away.

Hugo let go of it like it was on fire. Cisco tore out the magazine, only to find it unused. When it finally dawned on Hugo what he was doing, I could hear his breathing grow sharp. Hugo started shaking his head. You got spare rounds? asked Cisco. Hugo held out a small box of ammunition, dropping half of them in the moss. This just pissed Cisco off even more.

He was in no state of mind. to do any counting. Dad tried to call 911, but we couldn't get through. We were too remote, and his phone was about a decade old. He wanted to try mine, but I'd forgotten to charge it. Finally, Hugo gave up his phone and stepped back. He was holding up his hands like he was being arrested. Cisco was losing his mind, growing louder and louder.

redialed 911 and got a signal. As soon as that operator picked up, it was like all his words just dropped off the face of the earth. And then another gunshot. Dad pulled me down into the grass. Hugo dove behind a tree, and Cisco went prone behind a stump. As the sound echoed through the trees, we all held our breath. Dad grabbed my face, and he kept assuring me that I was okay. Nothing came of it. We were all fine. Dad looked around for the phone, listening for the operator. We scanned the tree line, but we didn't see anything.

Dad went for the phone. Another gunshot. Closer this time. Dad pulled his hand back and held me tight. I could hear his heartbeat. We spread out, called Cisco. We spread out and called. for help on my count. Dad propped himself up on one knee and got me to do the same. He'd be

facing the way the bullets came, shielding me. There was no time for me to object. Cisco counted down from five. It was so hyper-focused that I forgot to breathe. As the countdown ended, we all ran. Dad and I burst into a sprint towards base camp, while Hubert Go went north. Cisco headed south, up the hills. We kept our heads low, praying to God we wouldn't trip on anything. I have never ran that fast in my entire life. We just kept going.

Down a trail, past a landmark stone, and beyond. And I only had a vague idea of where we were, but I didn't stop to look around. Somewhere in the distance, I kept hearing gunshot. Not a lot, but every so often. And with each one, my heart skipped the beat. As we stopped to catch our breath, Dad got out the walkie-talkie. You see the shooter? He weezed.

Does anyone see him? Silence. Cisco. Dad called into the radio. More silence. Cisco. Cisco. We made our way back to camp.

We figured we could use my solar charger to get my phone up and running and try to call for help again. It was still early in the day, but it was very easy to get lost even with clear weather. I had a general heading, but that was about it. We took it real slow, crouching between trees and between outright sprints. We kept our heads low, listened, and watched for birds taking fly. All the while, I couldn't help but feel like something was up. If there was someone else moving out there, we would have heard them by now. Sound traveled far, especially in this open area.

When we finally made it back to base camp, I dove into my tent. I fumbled out the solar charger, plugged it in, and set it up outside. Dad moved it so it wouldn't be so easy to hit with a stray bullet. We hunkered down behind one of the tents. We didn't move a muscle. My body cramped from staying so still, but I didn't want to move despite the pain. It's all about the waiting,

Dad whispered, just like hunting. It must have been close to lunchtime when my phone lit up with a mild yellow light. It had about 30% battery charge, but it looked like the weather was about to change. There'd been a few clouds on the horizon. And Dad had warned us about rain. A bad enough cloud cover would mean we'd be wasting time waiting for nothing.

While Dad tried 911 again, I stuck to the Wauki. I tried a few hellos, but I got nothing. The thought hit me, that maybe they were hiding. If so, would my voice give them away? Abe's face flashed before my eyes as I put the Waukee down, waiting for someone to reach back from the other side. Dad tried his best to explain our position. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

We got a shooter. He said, I don't know. I don't know, maybe one, two. I, just west of. Dad put the rifle down and held the phone to his ear. He was trying his best to work out on a map exactly where we'd been at. I couldn't help but to stare at the room. rifle. There might be one of those things hunting us right now, and we'd have no idea of knowing.

They could have a clear shot. They could be anywhere. He stayed on for 10, maybe 20 minutes, before the battery ran dry. He was so frustrated that he couldn't contain it. They told us to get moving and meet him halfway. He spat. Don't. bring anything. We'll get it back later. With that, he grabbed the rifle, and we left. We got turned around a couple times when the rain came. Things started to look the same, and we had no proper source of light. We kept trying to head in a straight line, but it became painfully clear that we'd messed up somewhere around the half-hour mark. We'd went off track, and we might be heading further into the park.

We tried to backtrack, but we couldn't find any landmarks. There was supposed to be a tall tree along the path, but there wasn't. We must have taken a wrong path. I hadn't really paid attention when we first got there, so I had to rely entirely on my dad. And dad? He was not doing so good. It was pouring now. It felt like it was raining sideways.

I had to curl my hands up into my armpits to keep warm, and I kept getting slapped by branches. And then, in the distance, another gunshot. I could barely make it out in the rain, but there was a claim to it that just struck through me. There was something primal to it, like my hearing was tuned to catch it, I don't know exactly.

And then another? Closer. I dropped to the ground and dad got behind a tree. Before he had a chance to ask, I yelled back I was okay. I had to repeat myself three times before I saw him relax, his shoulders slumping against the tree. Stay down, he said. I think I saw something.

I tried to see what he was. looking at, but he yelled at me to stay still the moment I moved. He refused to have any part of me exposed to gunfire no matter what. And yet, I think I saw something. Movement further down the tree line. He crouched down and rested the gun on a branch. I could hear him trying to control his breathing. He squinted through the sights, counting to himself as he did. I kept my head down, waiting for the next shot. I don't know how long we stood there. Ten seconds, ten minutes, I don't know.

But all we heard was rain and crackling branches. All we saw was pine trees. I kept looking at my dad. He was the only thing I could see. He kept staring straight ahead, just breathing. And then I saw some. Something. Something fast. Duck! I shouted.

Dad! I haven't seen anything like that ever since. It was tall, and it had this strange green tint to it. It had two legs, but not like a person. Much taller than six feet, wide-set legs with long arms that I think they scraped across the forest floor. A single finger on its right hand was longer than my entire arm. Its head had a shape like a thorn bush with little blinking appendages all along what should be the scalp.

It twitched forward, and as it did, the long finger snapped straight through the tree where dad was taking cover. The sound of another gunshot rattled through us. This one was deafening. I saw something explode out of the other side of the tree as the force burst straight through the trunk. It blasted Dad's face with something like shrapnel. He threw himself backwards, covering his bleeding face and dropping the rifle.

It circled around him in a sort of crab walk, raising its long finger. like a scorpion's tail. And then I grabbed the rifle, swung it around, and I did as I'd been instructed. Down the iron sight, exhale. And this time I didn't hesitate. As a real gunshot rung out, the creature reeled back. Every little white slit along its head was opening and closing, blinking in unison. It was gone in an instant, scrambling on all fours to get away.

I think I hit it in the shoulder, revealing something bright green, like a snapped twig. I was breathing steady and calm, but I was terrified. I could feel this intense heat under my clothes, despite the cooling rain. Hold it steady, he said. finger on the trigger. He'd gotten something in his eyes I saw. I don't think he could see anything. It was up to me.

And then far off into the woods, another gunshot. Then another. Then another. All around us, gunshots were piercing the rain. But they weren't just gunshots. What should be these high-pitched explosions started to twist and ache. Some turning long and low like a stalling engine. Others reverbed like a wail or a heart-breaking cry. One of them kept splitting out gunshots that sounded

like small arms fire, a semi-automatic pistol, and far off in the distance, was something with a high caliber. Something deafening. Let me look beyond the scope. He said, down the line, watch between the trees, he instructed me. And I did. Despite the rain, the ache, and the panic, I held that rifle like it was my life. For hours, there was nothing but rain and gunfire. I'd catch glimpses of something moving in the distance.

sometimes straight ahead, sometimes from the flank. Sometimes I'd fire, hitting a branch or the side of a tree. And sometimes I'd hit something, causing a loud, gun-like squeal to echo back at me. And one by one, our bullets started to run out. Cartridge after cartridge started to pile up under us. And then at some point, It stopped. I remember the rain clearing.

The final cartridge lay hot in the grass. Dad put his hand on me. That's enough, he said. It's okay. As I put the rifle down, I felt a barrier collapsing. There was nothing between me and what was out there anymore. It was over. And we were just waiting for that,

final gunshot. But it never came. Instead, we saw forest rangers. Maybe they hadn't been that far away to begin with. In the aftermath, we found that both Cisco and Hugo had made it out. Cisco had dropped as walkie as he ran, but had taken shelter in a fishing cabin. Hugo had kept moving in a wide half-circle, making his way back to his camouflage shelter. But Abe, yeah, yeah, he didn't make it. They called it a hunting accident, but could never pinpointed on a single individual. Dad was beyond himself, questioning every decision he'd made down to the line. He questioned the fact that none of the Rangers had heard the gunfire to begin with.

There was no way they hadn't, he said. I've since heard all kinds of stories coming from the same area. Random gunfire, scaring off the deer. That seems to be a common story. A lot has happened since those days. I still keep a gun for protection. And my dad lost most of his vision. He's still around.

But we don't talk about it anymore. Mom never really got the full story either. We've never gone back there. We've never heard of anyone else seeing them. Honestly. I don't think I really want to know. And nowadays, we stick to fishing.