Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I work as a Fire Lookout. We have ONE RULE to survive | Scary Stories

Episode Date: May 13, 2024

Don't camp in the valley at night... Story from J Campbell Make sure to check out more of their work at u/Erutious  Cover Art from Dmitry Artemov                Original Post: The Chair at the End of the Bed : r/nosleep  Original YouTube link: I work as a Fire Lookout. We have ONE RULE to survive          For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Merch: lighthousehorror.com  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've been a ranger for about two years now. And overall, I like it. The hours are long and the pay isn't great. But it feels good to help my community and just live with nature in peace, you know? Even so, I will never forget how I started with the park service and the hellish process that brought me to this point. When I started, there were five of us hoping for a spot on the service. Bruce, Claire, Miguel, Laura. than me.

The deal was simple. Three months on Firewatch and he become a full-fledged park ranger. I just dropped out of college when I signed up to the service. My scholarship and my grant prospects were ruined by a professor who's a known hardass. The guy had a 65% fail rate among students. His class was also required for my field of study. After three attempts, the college took away my grant and the scholarship program. program pulled their backing. I was left with no job, very little money, and pissed off

parents who couldn't understand how I could fail a class that was so important. Well, I needed a job and I needed it quick. But the ad for this one should have been a red flag from the get-go. I still remember what it said. Wanted. Individuals looking for immediate hiring, offering full-time employment after a three-month probationary period with the forestry department must be willing to live in the park during the probation period. Serious applicants only. Now all I really read was the bit about full-time employment in living in the park. My parents' house wasn't really cutting it, so I called the number on the ad and I learned that they only had one spot left. They said they'd be happy

to set up an interview for the very next day. So the next morning, I was waiting for Waiting outside Ranger Keller's office at 8 a.m. sharp in my best polo and khaki slacks. Ranger Keller pulled up about five minutes after eight and smiled when he saw me. He's a big guy, you know, easily six foot five. He had a thick mustache and a shaved head that he keeps under a wide-brimmed hat. I remember being a little nervous as I sat there and he looked through my resume. me. So you want to be a park ranger?

That right? He started. I shrugged. I guess. The work seems interesting and I gotta do something. He nodded, looking at my lackluster application. Okay. Well, do you know anything about the program we're running?

Uh, you lock some of us in the fire tower for three months and... and see if we crack by the sound of it? He laughed at that, but it never reached his eyes. Ha, something like that. Have you spent a lot of time in the woods? Do you know your way around a campfire or forest trail? I told him I'd been in the Scouts since I was six years old. I'd gone camping with my friends since middle school, and I often hike the Appalachian Trail since high school.

reality, my friends and I would just drag our crap out into the woods and get drunk on the trails. We use these camping trips just to hang out, you know, and, you know, we were generally up to no good. It was a wonder that we hadn't set a campsite on fire yet, but at least had given me some working knowledge on how to act on the trail. I knew enough to hang our stuff in anti-bear bags, dig our latrines outside of camp, make sure our fires wouldn't rekindle afterward, and, you know, the other stuff the Boy Scouts taught me. Now, surprisingly, Ranger Keller at least seemed somewhat impressed by what I told him. He told me to report back here in a week to start my assignment.

A week later, I had a backpacked and I was pulling into the parking lot. There were four other cars there now. A small group of people around my age were hanging out on my porch. These would be my housemates for the next 90 days. And I figured I should get acquainted. They looked up as I walked towards the porch. A big blonde guy who looked like a linebacker came up to shake my hand. That was Bruce, who would eventually become our de facto leader.

When I shook his hand, he had the good grace not to crush my fingers. He gave me a smile that looked like he'd never seen the dentist, and he offered to introduce me to the others. Miguel was tall and lean, with his hair buzzed low. He nodded, as Bruce made introductions, putting his cigarette in his mouth so he could shake my hand. Laura smiled and waved as she sat in one of the uncomfortable metal chairs they had out there. She was small, five foot two maybe, and her black hair was long and shiny.

I remember wondering if she had a boyfriend, but I supposed I would find out. Claire was as blonde as Bruce, but less friendly. She offered a limp hand for me to shake. and snatched it back just as quickly. Maybe she'd warm up with time, I thought. Ranger Keller came out a few minutes later. He passed out our uniforms, then pointed to a beat-up truck beside the cabin. All right, climb in, kids. Let's go check out your digs for the next year. The uniforms turned out to be just khaki-colored shirts that said trainee on the back of them. Bruce, Miguel and I, rode in the bed of the truck while the girls rode with Keller and

the cab. As we rolled along, we talked about what we could expect in the coming year. The others seemed to think it wouldn't be difficult. Miguel was an experienced hiker and had seen more of the Appalachian Trail than anyone I knew. Bruce's dad was a park ranger in the Midwest, and he'd grown up on the trails. The two seemed very confident that a year of Firewatch would be nothing. You know, I heard they keep your pay held in trust while you do this. And if you quit, you don't get anything.

Bruce said, Can you imagine getting three months of pay all at once and a job? I also heard the last bunch didn't finish. They never got the money. Bruce's eyes flicked to the cab as he said this. What? I asked. Like they got fired or something? them? Nah, like the Rangers went to drop off some supplies one morning. And the trainees were just all gone, he replied. Miguel looked a little confused, but I just laughed.

You a writer in your spare time? That began. Sounds like a good story, I'll give you that. Bruce, however, never even cracked a smile. I don't put a lot of stock in stories. I said, but it's something interesting to think about. We're 20 to 30 miles from the closest station. I mean, anything could happen out here.

The fire tower soon came into view as we kicked up dust along the dirt road. It was huge, rising above the trees like a metal exclamation point. The closer we got, the larger it seemed to rise. It had to be tall, after all, so you could see fires from miles. away. We'd be living here for the next three months. But being up that high, it probably takes them getting used to. As we pulled into the gravel driveway, I saw a two-story house built into the bottom of the tower. It looked very out of place sitting beneath a tower of steel. All right, this is it, Keller said. Welcome to the valley. Your home for the next nine

The front door opened onto a mud room and a raised living area. It had an old TV, a sagging couch that looked like he could almost fall into it, and a pair of weathered leather chairs. Off the living room was a fully stocked kitchen, a half bath, and a staircase that led up to the bunk rooms. Each of the rooms had four beds and a foot locker. The strange thing was, though, that the bedroom was that the bedroom was. The bedrooms had no windows at all."

"'Trust me, you'll be glad of that,' Keller said." After the tour, he brought us down to the living room and gave us a rundown of our duties. "'All right. One of you is to be in the fire tower at all times. You have to keep a constant watch over the valley. If you're in the tower, make sure you're wearing your uniform. That is very important. Now there's a trap door on the second floor that leads to the ladder that will take you up

to the observation deck. That will be helpful for those of you on the night shift. That being said, no one leaves this house after dark. Why is that? asked Bruce. Well, from your current position, it's about ten miles into the woods to the closest ranger station. Gets pretty dark out here at night. So it's best if you keep to the tower for your own safety. We all shared a dubious look at that, but Keller wasn't done. Now, there are a few

safety rules I've left on the fridge in the kitchen for you. Follow these and the next 90 days should fly by. Food deliveries are once a week. There's enough gas to last you till the end of the month. And if there's an emergency, you can hop on the short range in the kitchen. Your cell phone service will likely be hit or miss out here, so don't rely on that. If the snow's come early, radio us for more wood and gas and we'll bring it. Good luck, he said. And with that, he was off. Now, the first few weeks, gravy. Bruce set up a system where each day, some one was off, and the other four kept watch in six-hour shifts. I opted to take the night shift since I was always up anyway.

Nobody argued with me, and soon we settled into a routine. We took turns cooking meals and worked out a chore system. We got to know each other better as time went on. Miguel and I bonded over our taste in bands, and Laura and I actually had similar taste in horror movies. Clara never seemed to warm up to anyone besides Bruce. Meanwhile, Bruce seemed to get along with everybody. The first two weeks seemed to fly by with very little to report. Very little, except for the weird lights in the valley at night. Keller hadn't been joking about just how dark it was out here. Even with a moon out, it was so dark in the valley.

night. I was glad for the lights in the fire tower. The tower itself had a square box encased in glass up top. From there, you could see in all four directions. With the valley as dark as it was, it was easy to see even the smallest hint of light. And that was how I first noticed the firefolk. I'd climbed up there during the day, looking out at the bright spread of woods with awe. But when I climbed up for the night shift, I found a very different view. It was like looking down from the top of the stairs and seeing the living room stretching below you. The shadows looked soft and dangerous in the absence of light.

I walked to each window for the first few minutes, just looking for landmarks. It was so peaceful out here. There were no blinking radio towers or light pollution, no glowing windows or headlights, just dark woods that held both possibilities and mysteries. As I looked out over the woods, I hoped I'd make it through these 90 days. I could get used to this kind of peace. My wonder only lasted about an hour, and soon I was on my phone. It seemed that being this high up, I had a decent signal.

But as I scrolled through social media, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. There was a blinking light from the north-facing window. It was the one that looked down over the actual valley. I set my phone down as I walked toward the glass. It was like a firefly moving through the forest, though the shape. It was human. It was like a person seen through a thermal scanner. A bright white silhouette moving through the woods with slow and decisive steps.

I almost knock the binoculars over as I reached for him, but they didn't help much. When I focused on the creature, all I could see was the same white-hot human figure. the binoculars, I could pick out fingers and features, and then the figure turned and looked directly at me. I almost dropped the binoculars in surprise. I tried to snap a few pictures on my phone, but it mostly just looked like a bright flash on the lens. Somehow the details I could see with my eyes didn't translate through the camera.

The figure moved about a mile through the woods. It walked for about an hour and a half before suddenly going out like someone flipped the switch. I blinked, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. The sun would be up in a few hours, but for now, it was still dark behind the glass. I spent the rest of the night moving from window to window, as I tried to see if whatever that had been. in would come back. I wondered if this was why Keller told us not to leave the tower at night. And that just led me to question whether we were safe or not out here. When my alarm went off at 6 a.m., I still didn't have answers. All I could do was wake

Claire up so she could take her watch. I was sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast when Bruce and Miguel came in. They asked me how my shift had gone. It was peaceful, I said. There was a weird glow, though. It looked like a person made out of light. Spooked me pretty bad right up until it just disappeared. I said.

Bruce laughed at that, asking if I snuck something into the coffee. But I noticed that Miguel was quiet. Maybe I hadn't been the only one to see something. We spent the morning doing a few chores around the station. At about five, I decided to lay down for a few hours before getting up for watch again. Miguel had the watch again that night till my shift. I set my alarm for about 11.30, so I could have a word with him before he turned in. the day, he'd opened his mouth like he wanted to ask me something, but he didn't say anything.

And I felt sure that he'd seen something last night, too. That night, I struggled to get up as my alarm went off. When I pushed the trap door open, I saw him jump a little before seeing that it was just me. Couldn't sleep, huh? He asked, handing me a cup of coffee. there was a fresh pot warming on a hot plate. Just woke up. I figured I'd come up here.

How has it been tonight? I answered. He looked over at the north face of the tower, as if looking for something. Eh, not too much. Been pretty quiet since sunset. The way his eyes lingered on the window, though, It made me wonder.

Miguel, can I ask you a question? Have you ever seen anything up here after dark? Like, in the woods? Miguel laughed, and I figured he would deflect before his smile slipped a little. Maybe, he said. All right, all right, I think, I don't know. Sometimes seems like my eyes are playing tricks on me. Sometimes.

Do you see glowing people in the woods? I asked. And the way he looked at me was all the answer I needed. He told me that on the first night, he just assumed he'd dozed off for a minute. Before this job, he'd been working the day shift at Waffle House, so being awake after nine wasn't something he did, often. When he had blinked and the glowing figure was gone, Miguel assumed it was just a dream.

When he saw it again tonight, however, he thought that there might be more to it than that. They just travel through the woods, he began. Take in their slow time until they eventually just, poof, go out. It's weird, you know. I don't think I've ever seen anything like it. We talked a little more after that, and when he started yawning, I told him to get some sleep. But I did see the firefolk again that night, and this time it wasn't alone. When the fluorescent dot blinked to life, I turned away from the south window. It seemed like the human-shaped blip had come to life.

in the same spot as last night. As it made its way toward where it disappeared last night, another came to life. It was a little deeper in the woods than the first, but it still made it slow way through the woods toward whatever it was traveling to. I wondered why they didn't burn the woods as they traveled. The path they left behind.

It was always dark. Whatever made them go. Whatever made them glow must not produce any heat at all, I thought. Just like the night before, they traveled for about an hour and a half before suddenly just winking out. And that was how the first two weeks went. I actually started looking forward to seeing the fire folk at night. That was what I started calling him. When I told Miguel, well, he decided it was a little.

as good a name as any. They never appeared during the day, or if they did, nobody ever saw him. On the nights when Laura took over from Miguel, she never reported seeing him. But Miguel and I both suspected that she was too buried in her phone to notice them. It actually brought us together, made us friends, and we spent a lot of time thinking about what they might be. Then, on a night midway through the next week, something changed. When I came to relieve Miguel, he pointed to a little dot in the North Valley and said we had guests. Hikers, probably, he said with a shrug.

I haven't seen any fire folk yet tonight, but maybe they're shy around strangers, huh? He left for bed after a while, and I settled in for another night of watching the woods. I kept an eye out for the firefolk, but the campfire down below kept drawing my eye. I hadn't seen anyone camping out there at night. The season was a little chilly for all but the most determined hikers. And it was interesting to think of someone besides us in the valley. Their fire was blazing high, probably to keep away the chill. It gave me a shiver to think about camping on a night like this.

It was a little later when the firefolk blazed to life that night. To my surprise, there were much more of them than I'd expected. They appeared in their usual spots, but their route took them towards the fire blazing in the distance. There were two of them at first, but a third was coming from behind the campers. The white-hot figures were brighter than the campfire. As they got closer and closer to the campers, I couldn't understand how they hadn't seen them yet. How could they not see the glow that was coming out of the woods right towards them?

As they surrounded the campside, all of the campside, all of the ground. All four lights suddenly just went out at the same time. The campfire and the three firefolk were all just gone. And I was left just looking into the darkness. After a few minutes, I reached for the radio on the table. I double keyed the mic as we'd been instructed to do. Dispatch here, go ahead, Fire Tower 4. Ranger Keller's voice crackled through the radio.

I thought about how to begin, before finally, just deciding to tell him what I'd seen. Yeah, I have a campfire in the valley, about 10 to 15 miles from the tower, and it just suddenly went out. Keller was silent at that. Yeah, no one's supposed to be in the valley after dusk. It's, it's policy. Sounds like you've spotted vagrants or something. Can you confirm how many were there in their general location? Ah, no clue on the numbers, I said. I looked at the map on the table, and I tried my best to estimate by flashlight.

But, yeah, they were near the North Basin when their fire just went out. More silence. When Keller came back on, there was something different in his voice. All right, Roger that. We'll send someone out at first light to check, all right? If you see their fire pop up again, let us know. It's been dry lately, and a wildfire this late in the season could be pretty bad dispatch out.

I didn't see the fire come back at all that night, but the fire folk didn't show up either. either. I was shaken awake the next day by Bruce around eleven. Keller had brought supplies for the week. As the others unpack them, he took me aside to ask me about the night before. I told them what I'd seen, except for the weird, glowing people. He nodded as he made notes. All right.

Well, I went out there with a couple of rangers this morning, and we found the remains of their campsite. He began. We're guessing about three individuals were camping out there, but they were gone. But we found their stuff and cleaned up their mess. Good looking out, all right, and I'll be sure to put your name on the report. He turned to go, but I was still curious about something. Sir, have you ever seen anything in the woods at night?

He gave me a look that told me he knew what I was talking about. about. But he wouldn't say so unless I was willing to say what I'd seen. Huh. It's funny you ask, he began. I have seen a good many things out here at night. What specifically do you mean? he asked. I opened my mouth a few times, wanting to tell him, but not wanting to look crazy. And finally, I don't know why, but I decided I'm not saying anything. He then wished me a good day and left, kicking up dust and pulling off down the road. I was off that night, but when someone shook me in the wee hours of the morning, I woke up in a panic.

It was Bruce, and he looked scared out of his mind. I need to show you something. Something I've never seen before, he said. I followed him back up the ladder and had to squint when I came to the top. The valley was brighter than it ever been. I could see more glowing figures than I'd ever seen. There were easily seven or eight of them moving around out there. Bruce seemed to be watching me for some kind of a reaction.

When I didn't appear surprised, he guessed that this wasn't the first time I'd seen them. I call him firefolk, I told him. Miguel and I see him every now and again. They don't seem like they want to bother us, so, I don't know. We just sort of keep an eye on him, but they're definitely kind of cool-looking. Bruce calmed down a little after I told him it wasn't something new, and that's how we brought in a third into our little secret. Bruce kept a closer eye out for them after that, and we talked quietly about them some nights. I stayed up there with him that night, telling him everything I'd seen, and when they all winked out at once, he was speechless.

I didn't tell him about the campers, just as I hadn't told me. Miguel, and we kept the secret for as long as we could. That was the end of October, and November passed with relative ease. We busied ourselves with the usual day-to-day chores as we kept watch over the valley. Keller came once a week to pick up trash and bring us supplies. We watched as the leaves changed, and the first snow came around Thanksgiving. The valley went from a vibrant fall landscape. to a barren one shortly after.

We were told to keep a special eye out for blazes this time of year. The fallen leaves in dry wood were especially susceptible to burning. And as the snow melted, I noticed the valley wasn't the only thing changing. We began to notice that the firefolk were getting closer. It began as a sort of migration from the valley. They always burst to life around the same area as they had the previous day before. But now they were appearing closer and closer each night. By early December, there were more of them that I'd ever seen.

I was watching 15 to 18 of them make their slow way closer to us each night. The closer they came. The more I remembered what Bruce told us in the back of the truck, as we drove up to the fire tower for the first time. The Rangers went to drop off supplies one morning, and everyone was just gone. Maybe they weren't just stories. The next day, I pulled Miguel and Bruce outside,

and I told them what I'd seen. I've noticed it too a few times, Miguel said. But why come after us now? We've been here for two months. without attracting their attention. What's so special about now? Who knows?

Bruce said. Maybe they're just curious about us. Like they'd been curious about the hikers last month. We decided it still might be a good idea to let the others know. And that went about as well as expected. Laura and Claire looked at us like we were crazy. And then Laura just laughed. She reminded us that Halloween had been over a month ago.

It was a little late in the season for spooky story, she said. When we tried to convince her that it wasn't a joke, Claire rolled her eyes at us for waking her up on her day off and went back to bed. Laura looked at her watch and reminded us to get some rest before tonight. We shrugged. We tried to tell them. And with any luck, nothing would come of it anyway. As Christmas kept closer and the end of our 90-day watch loomed, the firefolk continued to get closer.

More of them were showing up now, and the glow was so bright that it would be difficult for anyone to doubt they existed if the bedrooms had any windows. I was starting to wonder about that, too. How long have the Rangers known about this? What do the Rangers do about them? The light from the firefolk would be easily visible from the front porch if anyone wanted to stand out there after dark. And then on Christmas Day, they decided to make their move. We'd eaten well that day. Keller dropped off a ham and some holiday desserts.

Bruce had even wrapped a couple of pine cones and newspaper to hand out for a laugh. Miguel was on the early night shift. But when I climbed the ladder at 1130, Miguel looked worried. I could see why. The glow was brighter than it had ever been from the firefolk. You could see them from every side now. They were boxing us in, surrounding the tower, and there was no telling what they were going to do.

I think, Miguel said softly. I think I'll sleep on the floor up here. to nod. I don't think I'll be able to sleep knowing they're right outside the house. I nodded, feeling about the same. As the night went on, the glowing figures came closer and closer. Finally, I shook him awake and told him I was going to warn the others. Look, if we can get everyone up here, maybe we can hunker down until the first. The rangers must know some way to stop him. I said. But that's when something shook the bottom of the tower.

I opened the hatch, and I saw the brightness spilling into the house at the base of the ladder. The light was so blinding that I had to squint against it. And when I saw it shining at the bottom of the hatch, I pushed the trap door closed and locked it. There was banging from the trap door. Something pushed at the lid hard enough to make it. It's splinter, but nothing came through. We tried the radio, but all we got was static. Miguel and I took up what weapons we could find.

We found a fire axe and a crowbar under the desk, and we held on to them the whole night. We waited for them to break in, not daring to fall asleep. But as dawn came, we decided we were probably safe for now. We slowly went down to check the house, but we couldn't find anyone. Their beds were unmade, and all their stuff was still lying around. It was like they all got up that morning and went out on a barefoot hike. There were no signs of the fire folk either, no signs of a break-in or a struggle at all. If it weren't for the banged-up trap door, I could almost believe that nothing had happened.

Miguel and I moved some supplies up into the tower. The radio still wasn't working, so we decided to just hold out there until the next supply drop off. But the second night, well, it was even worse than the first. The banging was definitely more aggressive this time around. And all through the night, we found ourselves sitting on the hatch as the bolts holding it in place groaned against. the onslaught. The hatch hadn't been made to hold against something like that. As dawn came, and the lights below began to go out,

Miguel and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was so tired. I just wanted to go to sleep. But Miguel had other plans. I think we should try to walk out while it's still that. He said, I'd been lying back on some blankets. My eyes were already getting heavy, and I looked up at him as if I couldn't believe what he was saying.

We're both dead tired, man. We'd never make it to the 20 or so miles out of here before nightfall, I pointed out. Look, we got to try, he said. I'm not sure that hatch can survive another night. I don't like the idea of being stuck out here to find that out. What happens if Keller doesn't come out here on the first man? And you think about that? What if all of this was just him feeding us to those things

and keeping them in the valley? You remember what Bruce said when we first came out here? We wouldn't be the first group to just, poof, disappear. We went back and forth on it. And in the end, he packed up some of the supplies and left. That night's assault was much less violent. than the night before. As I sat on the hatch, I wondered if some of them had gone after Miguel.

I hoped they wouldn't find him. I hoped, but I think I knew they would. I stayed in the tower for another four days a night. My fingers started forming blisters from holding onto a fire axe every night. But when I woke up on the fifth day to a banging at the front door. I knew I'd survived. It was dawn, and I was never more grateful to hear another human being. Keller smiled up at me from the latter. You know, I had a good feeling about you, you know. I'm glad one of you survived this round of probationary hiring. All right now, come on. We'll get you a uniform and show you the ropes. And that was how I came to work for the forestry service.

Unfortunately, the fire folk weren't the strangest thing I would see in my time in the woods. It's been two years since Keller took me out of the woods in his old truck, but very little has changed in the park since then. We still don't allow camping in the valley, though we do clean up around five campsites within a year. Some people just don't listen. We also don't go into the valley after dark, no matter the emergency. We don't allow campfires in the valley, but you can still see a glow most nights if the skies are clear. And of course, at least once a year, I take four or five prospective rangers up to Tower Four so they can do their 90 days of probation. I asked, I ask you a

Keller wants why we take them up there when so few come back. And all he would tell me was this. Kid, those aren't the worst things in these woods. There are worse things, weirder things out there. But if someone can survive the firefolk of the valley, then they've got a good chance of surviving the service. Remember this, son. If it ain't us, it'll be the tourist.