Lighthouse Horror Podcast - In 1959, Nine Hikers WENT MISSING. I found out what happened | Scary Stories

Episode Date: September 25, 2024

I think I know what really killed those hikers... Scary Story exclusively written for the channel by Lighthouse Horror Team Cover Art from Ninerio More of the artist’s works at ninerioarts    ��               Original YouTube link: In 1959, Nine Hikers WENT MISSING. I found out what happened.       Merch: lighthousehorror.shop 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!

There's something dangerous at the Dietlav Pass. It was my dog who saved my life there. Rambo. That's his name. I was the one who trained him up for the canine unit when he was still a pup. The station got him from a place called Angel Shepherds. It was a kennel that specialized in breeding guard dogs. And he really was a godsend. That dog, he saved my life more times than I can count.

He was the best partner I ever had back in the force. And when a stabbing forced me into early retirement, Rambo was with me every step of the way. It wouldn't work with anyone else. So the precinct let me take him home. And since then, it was just him and me. Ever since I retired, I've kept to myself. All my friends are still active-duty cops. And they didn't get a lot of time off.

So? I didn't really have anyone, or any reason to get out of the house. The only time I left my place was to take Rambo out on walks. Things went on like that for a while. When Lonnie called me about the trip to Dietlav Pass, I was knee-deep in self-pity and beer bottles. Oh, come on, it'll be good for you, Nick. just like old times, you know, except with more snow and less paperwork, he said.

I could always count on Lonnie to say the craziest things I've ever heard. So that's how I ended up in some Russian village in the middle of nowhere. Apparently, that village was there even before the Diatlov Pass got its name. Nowadays, they make their living selling supplies to the tourist heading out to the pass. I checked to make sure we had everything we needed. Andre, the tour guide, was filling up the snowmobiles. Lonnie was hooking up the sled with all our stuff. Our plan was to spend the night camping near where those hikers died,

and Andre seemed more excited about the whole thing than me and Lonnie were. He said it was extremely rare that people were allowed to stay there overnight. The villagers refused to sell enough supplies for trips like that. Something about how it's too dangerous. But recently, they've started warming up to the idea of letting people stay the night. Only for small groups, though. And the conditions had to be just right. Lucky us, I guess.

Now the ride up to the site, it was actually a blast. The view was gorgeous, in a harsh kind of way. Even Rambo looked like he was having fun from his spot on the sled. It felt great to be moving again. It was the happiest I'd felt in a long time. I did hear about what happened to those Russians that died here, but I'll be honest, I didn't really care about that. In fact, I could almost forget I was going camping on the other side of the world.

Out there in the mountains, it almost felt like I was back in Colorado. Back when me and Lonnie used to go on hunting trips together. I felt like I was part of something again. By afternoon, we were setting up camp. Rambo was off leash and sniffing around. Andre and I started with the tents. Meanwhile, Lonnie gathered wood for the fire. Hey, Nick, remember that time you forgot to stake the tent?

That thing almost carried us down a canyon. Lonnie's laugh cut through the crisp air. Yeah, yeah, just make sure your stew isn't going to poison us this time, I said back. It was just like old times. But as the sun began to dip, Rambo started acting up. He'd sniff around our tents and let out a growl. Andre noticed too. Your dog senses something.

He said, animals often do, especially here, the land. It is not restful. Pretty soon, it was completely dark out. We gathered around the fire, but the cold continued to bite. But at least the food smelled good. We had a stew going on a portable stove. Me and Lonnie were happy to catch up while we waited for it to cook. But then Andre pulled out his compass. It was an old-fashioned piece on a long silver chain. Andre liked to say it was his good luck charm. But as he fiddled with it, a puzzled look crossed his face.

Look at this thing, he said. Instead of pointing north, the needle wouldn't stop moving. Andre waved it from side to side. And we understood what the compass was doing. It was following Rambo. He hadn't calmed down since we set up the tents. Every few minutes, he'd sniff around the camp and growl, and everywhere he went, the needle followed him. It's just the mountains messing with a compass, right? I asked.

Andre shook his head. No, no, something's not right. We're heading back down first thing in the morning. It's too risky at night. But we're not staying here any longer than we have to. Stay in your tents tonight. Keep your radios with you at all times. Do not leave for any reason.

We ate our dinner quickly that night. And right after we cleaned up, everyone headed straight for their tents. Except for Rambo. He whined by the entrance of our tent, and when I tried to go in, he grabbed my sleeve to stop me. Hey, Rambo, calm down, bud. Don't you want to get some sleep? We're going to leave soon, all right, I promise. I said, trying to calm him down.

But he wouldn't back down. I had to carry him into the tent. He eventually settled down and curled up. next to me. Next to his warm fur, I fell asleep instantly. But it didn't last long. I heard something in my sleep. It jolted me awake. At first, I thought it was Rambo whining again. But as I came to, I realized it wasn't him. It was something else. It was music. Coming from outside, It sounded like some kind of flute, but low and buzzing, and it sounded close. I reached for the radio to check in with Lonnie.

Maybe he was messing around, I don't know, trying to lighten the mood from earlier. Hey, Lonnie, say you playing the pipes, I asked. There was a pause before Lonnie's voice came through. What are you talking about, Nick? Crazy. Man, I was asleep. He said. So you don't hear the music outside?

I asked. Oh, man, you think there's someone out there. Maybe it's Andre, huh? This ain't the time for a concert, though. He replied. I switched channels and called him up. He sounded groggy when he answered. I told them about the music and how it's still playing.

Andre's voice came through clearly. Nick, I don't hear anything. I'm just here in my tent. I checked back on Lonnie. All clear on my end, buddy, he said. And then a third voice came through. Checking in. It said.

I froze. Rambo started barking, his tail between his legs. And then the music burst out through the radio. It filled the tent. It sounded much clearer than it should have been. I tried to shut the radio off, but the song kept playing. Rambo howled, mixing with a note. I flipped through the channels to get it to stop, but it was no use.

It played from every channel, even the ones for my friends. I threw the radio down trying to smash it. Rambo pounced the moment it hit the ground. He chewed on that thing like he wanted to tear it apart. And then just as suddenly as it had started, the music stopped. I couldn't hear anything outside either. I stepped out of the tent. I needed to check on Lonnie.

The cold wind was like a slap in the face. I looked around, and I saw footsteps around my tent. They overlapped one another, like someone walking in circles. And those prints, they weren't made by boots. They were bare feet going round and round in the snow. I suited up and got my flashlight out. Whoever this was, we couldn't let them pick us off one by one. All three of us needed to stick together.

We'd sleep in shifts if we had to. Andre's tent was the closest to me. I started to walk over, Rambo following close behind. I was halfway there when I saw movement in the corner of my eye. I looked around, and I saw a glowing red light coming from the trees. It almost looked like a flare. Was that the person playing the flute? Was it actually some sort of distress signal?

But as I watched, the light suddenly shot up. But instead of flying up like a normal flare, it stopped just above the trees. It hung in the air, like it was dangling from a string. But I couldn't see anything it could be attached to. and then a second red light floated. It came from deeper in the forest, and then a third, and a fourth. More and more red orbs appeared, and they all stayed just above the tree line.

It looked like the whole forest was covered in Christmas lights, and that all at once they just zoomed across the sky. The lights danced over my head, in a strange pattern, and they moved faster and faster. As I watched them, I started feeling sick, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. Before I knew it, the flute music had started up again. They seemed to dance to the song. The music got faster, and the lights started pulsing.

I could feel something wet dripping from my nose. And then Rambo bit me. The pain snapped me out of it. I buried my face in his fur to block everything else out. Ah, good boy, Rambo, I said. And then the song just stopped. I looked up, and the lights were gone. The campsite was as quiet as before.

How the hell could Lonnie and Andre ignore all that? Why couldn't they hear this song? I know I didn't imagine all that, because Rambo reacted to everything like I did, but I needed to be sure. And then Rambo growled low in his throat. He barked at Andre's tent and tried to steer me away. I saw the side of it bulge outwards, like someone fell against it. Then I heard muffled shouting. The tent shook like.

Andre was fighting to get out. I ran over, and I heard a second voice coming from inside. There was Andre swearing, and the second voice laughed and said something back. I pulled at the zipper trying to help him, but it wouldn't move. Then a woman's voice rang out. The tent bulged out again as Andre pushed through the fabric. I took out my knife to cut the tent open. But I couldn't slice through it. The knife slid over the fabric like it was made of wood. I pressed the tip to my palm, and it cut me easily. But every time I tried it on the tent, nothing happened. I could hear more voices inside now. All speaking over one another. The voices were a mix of men and women, and for a second, I thought I even heard a child.

"'Antree, it's me, Nick. I'm outside. I'm trying to get you out.' I said. All at once. The voices stopped. The tent stopped shaking. "'Nick?' "'The one with a dog, yes.' "'Andre said. His voice was weak. "'Yeah, man, we're both out here. Me and Rambo. We're going to get you out.' I said. Nick, they don't like your dog, he replied.

Suddenly, the tip of a knife pierced through the fabric. It cut through the tent easily. Andre pushed himself through the tear. His hair was a mess, and he didn't have a shirt on. His body was covered in fresh cuts. His face was a mess of bruises. His eyes locked on Rambo. I wasn't ready.

He grabbed me. We landed on the snow, and he swung his knife. And that's when I heard him. He was humming, and it was the same melody that the flute had played. I grabbed his wrist before he could take another shot at me. He hummed louder, his eyes bulging out. He grabbed my neck with his other hand. And then Rambo's jaws clamped on his arm.

The dog shook his head, tearing it off my neck. But Andre didn't even seem to notice. He continued to hum that song. He managed to throw me off him, but Rambo still held on. There was blood in the snow. I made a grab for the knife. I was not going to let him hurt my dog. And then out of nowhere, Lonnie knocked him out.

Andre crumpled to the ground. Lonnie stood over him, a rock in his hand. What the hell happened here, Nick? Woke up from all the noise. When I looked out, it's like WrestleMania out here, he said. How long have you been asleep for, Lonnie? I asked. I don't know.

Think we turned in in a seven? He replied. You didn't answer your radio when I called. I insisted. Lonnie shook his head, looking confused. Look, Lonnie, I don't know what the hell's going on, all right, but something's messing with us out here. It's screwing with our radios. Look, there's footsteps all over our camp.

Our tour guide almost killed my dog. We got to be careful, man, I explained. Together, we dragged Andre to the middle of camp. While Lonnie tied his legs together, I went to get him a shirt and coat. He tried to kill me, sure, but that didn't mean I wanted him to freeze out here. The inside of his tent was a mess. His stuff was scattered everywhere. He'd opened up all his food packs and smeared everything on the floor.

His radio was smashed open. I found him a shirt that wasn't covered in gravy. Next to his sleeping bag was his coat. And I got back just in time. Andre looked like he was about to wake up. We dressed him quickly. But the arm that Rambo had clamped on was a bloody mess. It was so mangled I could see bone.

All we could do was loop the rope around him and tie him to the sled. Andre's chest heaved. He was breathing fast now. He opened his eyes and they darted around until he saw Rambo. That set him off again. He struggled against ropes. His ruined arm flopped against. his side. And then he began to sing. I didn't understand the words, but they sounded angry,

and the melody was still that same flute song that started all this. Lani took off his cap and used it to gag Andre. Lani suggested that we should take turns watching Andre. I nodded. That made sense. I looked at my watch, just a bit past midnight. We agreed on two-hour shifts until we leave at dawn. Lonnie volunteered to take the first watch. He thought taking Rambo away would calm Andre down, enough for him to bandage up his arm. I looked back down at our tour guide. He kept singing, even with a gag in.

But something had changed about his face. He wasn't angry anymore. Instead, he looked downright terrified. Lonnie just shrugged and got the fire going. I headed back to my tent. Rambo followed me. I got into my sleeping bag, but he stayed by the tent flap, ears up. I tried to get some sleep,

but I couldn't forget the look in Andre's eyes when he looked at Rambo. I have never seen that much hatred. on someone's face before. But I was not going to let anything happen to my boy. I must have dozed off after all, because I woke up to Rambo licking my face, and I could hear a faint rustling coming from outside. Rambo's ears were twitching, too.

With a deep breath, I grabbed my flashlight, and I put a coat on. The moon shone brightly. The fire Lonnie. started was out. And the campsite, it looked completely deserted. Andre and Lonnie were both gone. I swept my light around, trying to figure out what happened. Multiple footprints covered the ground, all different sizes. Some of them showed bare feet walking around. Others were boot prints. And a few of them were tiny, like the size of small chivalry.

children. There were some that looked like hands as if someone was walking around on all fours. And some of them, I didn't even recognize. I walked over to the sled where we'd put Andre, and there was nothing but bloody pieces of rope. A trail of blood led from the sled to the nearby woods. So that was Andre. But where was Lonnie? I called out his name, but no one answered back. I had no choice.

I'll have to go after the tour guide and see if Lonnie's with him. I followed the blood through the snow. I saw there was only one pair of prints leading to the trees, but I didn't know whose they were. Rambo sniffed at the trail. He barked at me once, and then he stared directly at the trees. That's a good sign, at least. Whoever was over there, Rambo knew him. We followed the prince. The blood splotches didn't stop. The prince were harder to follow once we got into the trees. But Rambo knew exactly where to go.

The forest seemed to close in around us as we moved. I stopped every time the wind whistled through the trees. It sounded too much like the flute, and bad things seemed to happen when I heard that. Finally, we ended up in a clearing, and in the middle was Lonnie. He was burying Andre in the snow. Lonnie, what happened? I called out. My friend turned to May, his face pale. Oh, he, he came at me, Nick, I had to defend myself.

He said, I could barely hear him over the wind. His words came out weak and uneven. And in his pocket, I could see Andrei's knife. I stared at Lonnie. His eyes looked glazed over, like he was sleepwalking, or about to have a stroke. My mind raced as I trying to piece together what had happened. Why is the compass in his mouth, Lonnie? I asked. He'd already managed to bury Andre up to his shoulders.

I could see the Russians face clearly. His eyes were open and bloodshot. His nose was broken. And his lucky compass had been shoved into his mouth. Lonnie. he just shrugged, a quick, jerky motion that didn't sit right with me. Ah, he was raving, man. Said it was guiding him or something. I don't know, Nick. It happened so fast. He said. Rambo started to growl. His body stiffened as he stared at Lonnie. He sensed something.

Rambo, he'd always been a good judge of character. The dog always knew who the bad guys were. I took a step back, my eyes darting between Lonnie and the knife. How do he get out of the ropes? I asked. Lonnie's eye twitched. He looked around the clearing, like he was looking at people only he could see. I don't know, Nick. He just snapped, man, started screaming about the compass. He tried to kill me, Lonnie said. He seemed different. My cop instincts were going crazy.

Okay, but I still don't understand about the compass. I pressed him. Lonnie's face hardened. His jaw clenched as he stared at me. You weren't there, Nick. You're sleeping. You forget that. You were asleep, and I was doing the job. You didn't see what he was like, okay?

Rambo's growling intensified. He bared his teeth now. He moved between me and Lonnie. Okay, okay, let's just calm down, all right? I said slowly. We can figure all this out in the morning, okay? Let's just, let's just head back to camp. Lonnie didn't talk as we made our way back,

but his movements were jerky, uneven. I kept an eye on him. Rambo stayed behind him. He stayed between me and Lonnie the whole way back. But when we got to camp, it was like a tornado had gone through. The food was everywhere. Our tents were shredded.

The snowmobiles were down on their sides. And weirdest of all, the snow around our tents had turned black. I knelt down and grabbed a handful. It felt like ashes. Then behind me, I heard Rambo bark. I turned around just in time to see him pounce at Lonnie. He snapped his jaws, pushing my friend into the snow. And I saw the knife glint in Lonnie's hand.

Nick, get him off. Get your dog off! He said, not sounding like himself. Rambo got his teeth around Lonnie's wrist. With one strong jerk, he ripped his arm away. My dog let out of wine. And in one quick motion, Lonnie got to his feet and just ran back to the trees. Rambo tried to follow, but I grabbed his collar just in time. I pulled him back as he barked furiously into the darkness.

I couldn't calm him down. His fur was all puffed up. He was panting hard, and blood dripped from his muzzle. His eyes remained fixed. where Lonnie had run. We stood there for a minute. The cold bit into my skin. Took a while for both of us to calm down,

and I looked around the wrecked campsite. If we were going to survive this night, we needed shelter. I picked through the wreckage for something we could use, and then the flute music started again, soft and close, and this time there were voices. with it. They sang words I didn't understand. The voices overlapped. They formed perfect harmonies that made my ears hurt. I turned in a circle trying to locate the source, but the songs seemed

to be coming from everywhere. Rambo started growling again as you just stared out into the trees. I walked towards the campsite. I didn't even realize I was doing it. I felt like I wasn't in full control of myself. Then I had the sudden urge to look down, and I saw the ashes they were moving. They formed tiny mounds over the snow. Then as I watched, the mounds spread out.

They formed lines that connected to one. one another until I was looking at a large, complicated pattern in the snow. It circled around the burnt-out campside, and then the lines spread out to each of the tents. Looking at it made my head spin. None of this was possible. The more I tried to understand it all, the dizzier I got. A strong wave of nausea hit me, and I fell on my knees. I swiped my hand over the ashes. I wanted to, I don't know, to erase them. But they stayed in place.

I brushed my fingers over them again and again, but the pattern wouldn't go away. Then the ground began to vibrate. It was subtle at first. I almost thought it was vertigo. It was the ashes. They shivered, too. Not enough to erase the pattern,

but it was there. The ground I was on began to change, and I didn't feel like I could move. I began to sink into the snow. My brain screamed at me to move, but all I could manage was to make a small twitch. I looked around the camp. I remembered the stories about the original Dietlav incident.

I wondered if those hikers heard the music, too. Did the song infect them? Then in the distance, I saw them. Figures, and they were walking towards me. Some of them looked like hikers, but others were half naked. There were children with them, too. For a second, I thought I saw Andre with them, his forearm barely attached to his elbow.

And Rambo, I couldn't see him anywhere. I called out for him. I could hear him, but I couldn't see him. I didn't think I could trust my eyes anymore. I didn't know what was real or not. In the background, the song grew louder, and I realized that the singing was coming from the figures walking towards camp. I could see some of them more clearly now. The figure with a torn up arm was the nearest to me.

In its mouth was something shiny, the silver compass, and yet he still tried to mumble the words to the song. His dead eyes locked with mine. Get up, get up, I told myself, but my limbs refused to move. I was sinking deeper now. Either the snow would get me or the dead would. I understood something then.

The song. That song, it had always lived here. And there were many ways it can take you. Andre was right in front of me now. He reached out towards my face. He grabbed my cheek and pressed down. His nails dug into my flesh. I wanted to scream in pain, but I couldn't. I knew I was going to die and there was nothing I could do. And then I saw Rambo. Rambo jumped at Andre, forcing him to the ground. I didn't see what he did. All I heard was a deep growling and a viciously. tearing sound. The music grew louder. It almost sounded like a howl now. And Rambo answered back with a howl of his own. I heard footsteps running behind me, but Rambo was quick. He leaped behind me,

and I heard Lonnie scream. I still couldn't move, but I felt like maybe I was slowly coming back. my hand, and I tried to push myself up. Behind me, I could hear Rambo and Lonnie struggling in the snow. I heard barks, growls, and screaming. It went on for a long time. And then I felt something wet against my back. That was what did it. All of a sudden, I could move again.

I grabbed a rock, pulled myself up, and I turned around. Rambo was alive, standing over Lonnie. He was panting hard, and he looked like he had a bad limp. But as soon as he saw my face, he jumped into my arms. A few hours later, he was snoring away in the sled. I put a splint on his leg, and I made sure he was nice and comfortable back there. We were going to be back in town in a couple hours.

But as I drove, I couldn't help but wonder, did those villagers know what was out there? Did they even believe we'd make it back? Or were we chosen to die?