Snook - 4Chan Skinwalker Stories

Episode Date: October 1, 2025

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Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to another 4chan stories video. And today we're getting into some 4chan stories and specifically some 4chan Skinwalker stories. The stories in today's video is amazing. You'll want to stick around and I appreciate you stopping by. So sit back, relax, grab a drink, get hydrated, grab a snack and yeah, get ready to listen to some awesome skinwalker stories and scary skinwalker stories. Please like the video and subscribe to the channel. it helps more than you know. And without further ado, let's get into some 4chan Skinwalker Stories. Hey, so this is my first time posting here. I'm not sure if this is the right place for this,

but nobody is taking me seriously. So posting here is worth a shot. It's pretty long, but bear with me. A brief bit of backstory. My mom is essentially a paleontologist. Her official title is dumb and complicated, but she specializes in taffonomy, the series. study of decay and fossilization. She mostly does field research, so I grew up moving around a lot from site to site. I've really never had many friends, but the summer before my senior year, my mom started on a project that kept us in the same place in the middle of nowhere, North Dakota. Be 18-year-old me. Last semester of high school. I'm at locker with best only friend in school, James. James is weirdly into photography, convinced that it is the key to immortality, capturing a person's

essence in a way time cannot erode. I told him once that time erodes film too, but he said that wasn't the point. He keeps a digital camera on him at all times, snapping photos of boring shit constantly. At first, this was annoying, but I eventually got used to it. Plus, he's the only other person I've met who seemed interested in the stages of epidermal breakdown after death, so we got it along. We're chatting about our lack of spring break plans when Stacey, this girl from our statistics class, who I also happen to be in love with, walks up. Stacey's has blonde hair, big green eyes, and a thing for tight turtleneck sweaters. She's pretty outgoing, and we talk sometimes in glass, mostly when she initiates it. I've tried to initiate sometimes, but

I have a massive embarrassing crush on her that gets me all sweaty and stuttery. James knows all this. Anyway, so she bounces up to us. Hi, James. Oh, hi, Anon. Man, how boring is Mr. Snorman's voice? I'm sorry, I'm sure it's important at all, but I have a hard time caring about lines of best fit at 8 a.m. Our teacher's name is Mr. Norman.

Polite laughs all around. Yeah, I say. And he's so old, too. They should call him Mr. Snorosaurus. I laugh. Only, I laugh. Uh, yeah, Stacey continues. Anyway, so James, do you have any plans for spring break? Not exactly. I'm sort of walking on a series of nature photos for a possible scholarship, but I've been having trouble finding any nature worth shooting. I was maybe thinking about making a road trip somewhere, and I was going to ask Anon if he wanted to come.

Classic James, making nothing sound like something. Still, I'm excited at the prospect of a road trip. even if he doesn't mean it. Oh, yeah, dude. Yeah, of course I'll go with you. I squeak out, popping my heels off the group a bit. Both their eyes shift to my feet and then back up. Oh, that's awesome, Stacey continued. Well, the reason I was asking is because my aunt owns this cabin out on Lake Ohio,

and she, like, never uses it. So she gave me permission to have some friends to stay there over spring break, and I was wondering if you want to maybe come. We'd leave that Monday night and get back Friday afternoon. It'll be super fun, I promise, and there's a ton of forests and stuff around there, so I'm sure you can find some good wildlife shots for your project. Fuck, I was really looking forward to that road trip. Oh well, looks like it's another spake filled with Bioshock and Cool Ranch Doritos.

Oh, yeah, that sounds fun, but I actually kind of need Anon for some help on with some photos. He knows where to find the type of wildlife I'm looking for. I'm shocked at his friendship, but he doesn't need to follow on his sword on my account. Oh, how silly of me. Stacey's bubbly voice giggled a bit. I should have said it earlier, but, Anon, you're totally invited too. I just didn't know if you wanted to. You don't really seem to like my friends. Wow, that's direct of her, but okay. Oh, no, what? I don't like your friends. I mean, I don't know them very well, but they seem like nice people.

One time I saw her on again, off again boyfriend, Chad, take a shit in his friend's baseball hat while people cheered. Great folks. Stacey seems genuinely surprised, but happy. We swap numbers and she leaves James and I alone. You can think me later, Anon. James' face is so coy, but I can't deny it. He's the man right now. I am forever in your service, I say, with a courtly bow. Dude, you gotta cut it off with that shit.

I know you're joking, but you just come across as weird. Ouch. Truth hurts. Anyway, I was serious about needing your help with these photos, so that can be how you repay me. He needs my help with photos? James knows more about photos. knows more about photos than anyone I've met. He got kicked out of our school's photography class last semester after calling the 65-year-old teach a narrow-minded, boregious hack,

when she wouldn't allow 200 photo series of the same empty kitchen to serve as his study of the female body. I ask him why he could possibly need me. Oh, it's simple. You know where to find the dead shit. Next week, spring break. My mom drops me off at Stacey's house. The group's rendezvous point. And give us it. gives me a hug and kiss and says how happy she is that I'm finally making friends. Stacey answers to the door and looks a bit confused when she recognizes me. Oh, hey, Nan, you're a little early, but that's fine. No one else is here yet, though.

Alone time already. Shit's so cash. I wait back to my mom, who was waiting, parked in the driveway in case something went wrong, and she drives off. I drop my bags off in the entrance, and Stacey sits on the couch. I sit next to her, and she crosses her legs. scooting away in the process. So, Anon, you're excited for the trip?

Oh yeah, I'm really excited. I just now realize that I have no idea what to say to her. Awkward silence. I hoped I packed the right clothes I've never been to Lake Ohio before, so I wasn't sure what to bring. Actually, me neither. Stacey picks it up. See me natural?

I mean, I've been there before, but the weather can weirdly fluctuate. My aunt said that last year the weather was awesome, and they were able to go out on the boat every day. But this year she said that a cold front is supposed to hit tonight, so it might kind of suck. Oh, that's okay. I brought a little bit of everything, just in case. Stacey laughs and looks over at my three large suitcases full of clothing. Yeah, I can see that.

I'm just packing a few extra sweaters as all. Oh, like the blue sweater with that black thing on the collar? What? You know, your blue sweater. It's kind of tight and has like a black stripe going around the collar. You wore it to school on Thursday? I could hear the words coming out, but was powerless to stop them. Oh, that's weird.

Yeah, you're right, though. I'm bringing that one. Cool. That's a nice sweater. Long pause. So, where did you get it? What? The sweater, you know?

Was it a gift or something? Did you just find it out at the store? I can feel these spaghetti pouring out of my pockets, but I'm in too deep to pull out now. Uh, my grandma got it for me for Christmas. Cool. Long pause. Hey, Anon, do you want something to drink? No, I'm okay.

At this point, I'm swimming in spaghetti, and she's definite at risk of drowning, so we both sigh with relief when the doorbell rings. Stacey pops up to go get it. I follow her over the door, a little too closely, and almost get it when she swings it open. Chad! Stacey greets him with a smile and a hug.

Chad is at least eight inches taller than her and lifts her off the ground with his embrace. He's wearing a fur-lined leather coat, which he takes off to reveal a tight, muscle-bound green V-neck. He kicks off his boots, which are inexplicably muddy, and walks Stacey back over to the couch. What's up, bud? He shoots a finger-gun in my way. Fucking Chad. I join them on the couch and sit silently.

While they mock teachers I don't have and reference TV shows I haven't seen. What's worse is that I never got a drink, but I was definitely thirsty. Eventually, everyone shows up. We pack up the car and head it out. Since there were five of us, Stacey, Stacy's friend Haley, Chad, James, and me. We decided to save gas money and just pick up one car. There were supposed to be two other girls with us, Sarah and Emily, but their parents caught them making out earlier that week and grounded them both. Five people in one car means that I get stuck in the middle back seat between James and Haley. Stacey has shotgun. and Chad drives.

Fucking Chad. It is a five-hour drive, and I spend most of it leaning back and against James because Haley has pushed her torso forward and on top of me to talk with the front row. After about an hour of her brown, wowed of hair, spray coated curls, slapping against my face,

one strand of those precious locks breaks free. The hair shoots straight into my mouth and sticks to the back of my throat. I cough into the back of Haley's neck, shooting the hair from my throat up my nose, Excuse you, Haley sneered at me, turning her head my direction for the first time in an hour. Just then, an involuntary reaction to a chemically treated for an object in my nasal cavity takes hold. I sneeze a fat one right in Haley's face.

Oh my God, what the fuck God? She screams and wipes her face. I'm so, so sorry, Haley, I couldn't help, but sorry. I scrambled to find her a tissue, and then Chad hands her an old fast food napkin from the glove compartment. I try to apologize more, but she doesn't seem to want it, and we eventually just listen to music and silence. After we exit the interstate, we take a series of smaller highways and winding dimly lit roads. After 40 minutes later, our cell phone service begins to fail. Stacey says she figured this might happen and has printed off directions ready.

The roads get smaller and smaller and the exits more sudden, appearing without warning on the sides of the road. We pass our exit on an accident and have to double back. After another 20 minutes on a gravel road, we pull up to a little gravel cul-de-sac with only one small cabin in it, and one street lamp in front of it. We're here, Stacey says, as the car parks. We had only had one bathroom break, so it feels good to stretch my legs, particularly after riding bitch for five hours.

Plus, the closed quarters had made each of us less than comfortable, so as soon as we got out, everyone kind of wandered off cul-de-sac away from each other. Stacey was right. The woods are thick out here. Really thick. Granted, it's easily after 10 p.m. when we get there. But even with the bright moonlight and the street lamp, when I look into the woods, everything seems black after about 15 feet. Hey, sneeze machine, you want to help us unload? I turned back to the cul-de-sac to see Chad holding two bags and grinning at me. Yeah, of course I will, I say, marching back to the car. As I pick up some stuff, Chad leans over to me. Pretty spooky, huh? I'm.

all that darkness. Yeah, I guess. I don't really think so. Oh, well, good for you, Chad taunts. I think it's just thrilling. This deep in the woods so far from society's cradle, no one to call, even if you could call anyone. I don't know what face I make, but when he sees it, he starts cracking up and pass me on the shoulder. Hey, don't lose any more fluids tonight, bud. I'm just fucking with you. It'll look great here in the morning. I look over to the woods, and it seems like they're inching towards me. After he walks away, I check my phone again. No service. Fucking Chad.

Tuesday morning. I wake up in my sleeping bag on the floor in the spare bedroom. The cabin only has two bedrooms, so we split up between guys and girls. Three guys, one bed. Chad won it in a bullshit rock paper scissors tournament. I sit up and realize that I'm the only one still sleep. Quickly get dressed and hurry to the main room. The cabin is one big square with a living room slash kitchenette combo in the middle

and bedrooms on either side. Everyone is awake. Haley is in the living room, flipping through a record collection in the corner. Stacey is at the stove, cooking breakfast. Oh, sleeping beauty is finally risen. Chad is at the table, laughing with a beer in his hand. He's wearing another tight V-neck. And with the vein on his arm suggests that he started the morning with push-ups.

Hey, he ain't, doing some eggs? Stacey asked from the kitchen. Oh, yeah, that'd be great, actually. Where's James? He's out front with his camera. Chad motions with his beard. your hand. You'd think the kid never saw trees before. I told you he's working on a project Stacey corrects him. Besides, it's nice that he's passing it. Hey, I don't have a problem with it. Teach

their own, sure. Hey, Aon, grab yourself a beer. Start the morning off right. I've never drank beer in the morning before, but I'm not trying to argue with chat about that right now. I've done my fair share of underage drinking, but if I'm honest, it's never been anything crazy. Usually a friend or two sneak into their parents' liquor cabinets and we make drink bets on Super Smash Bros. I go to the fridge and open it. There's more beer inside than I'd ever seen in my life. That's a lot of beer. Yeah, dude, what did you think we were out here for?

Nature's cool and all, but the opportunity to get fucked up free of our parental advisory, that's worth the drive. I crack open my first beer of the day and pound it in front of the fridge. Crinkle the can in my fist. Bletch. Come at me, bro. That a boy, Chad. Cheers.

And pounds his too. Let's have another. Chad and I spend the next hour or so slamming beers while he tells me stories of crazy parties he's been to that got busted or hiking trips he's been on or awesome concerts he's been to. Most of it seems like bullshit, but whatever. They're good stories regardless. By mid-morning, we're all up and ready to go for a hike. Shit's awesome.

The air is crisp and fresh, and before long, we're all joking around with each other. Chad's still being a douche, but what can you expect? We're all bonding like some prime time sitcom shit. At some point in the hike, we see a dark pile, like a dead animal, about 10 feet off the trail. Ew, what's that? Stacey pointed out first. Girls are grossed out, don't want to go near. Chad's playing it cool. No big deal, nothing to see here.

James and I get our dicks hard and scoot on over to it. Shit is so fucked up. It's basically inside out. It takes us a moment to realize that it's a big deal. deer, or at least that's our best guess. James's camera is snapping away. What a find. After a moment Chad joins us, like he's motherfucking John Locke from Lost. It's strange that there aren't any animal tracks around here. Okay, dude, sure, you definitely could spot animal tracks if they were here, and they definitely aren't. James and I just let him have it while he pokes around the nearby

bushes. The girls get tired of this pretty quick. Guys, come on, that's nasty. I don't want to look at it. I looked to James. You get enough picks? Yeah, I got enough. He sat, even though he's still snapping more photos, this time with the surrounding woods, even one looking straight at the sky above where we found it. We keep moving, eventually getting to the top of a hill. I don't know what qualifies as a mountain, and I don't think this was one exactly, but the view from the top is amazing. Where the trail ends, there's this perfect little clearing in the trees and a big stone on the cliff that looks out over the horizon. James and I feel like Lewis and Clark. Picture an ocean of green all around us, sloping up and down like waves about to crash.

No houses, no roads, no water, just trees. Wait, I asked Stacey where the lake went. Oh, that is weird. Stacy scratches her head. I guess we must be facing the other direction. Maybe it's beyond those trees. She points to the thick, we just came from. Shit doesn't really add up. I usually have a weirdly good sense of direction and I didn't notice the trail turning at all. I checked the sun for any indication, but it's the middle of the day, so it's just straight up above us. Does this path have a curve to it, I ask? To no one in particular? I don't know, actually, Stacey responds. This is actually my first time on the trail. I used to get really sick as a kid, so whenever I came up here, they didn't let me come along.

That's convenient. Chad must have smelled my discomfort. Hey, bud, don't worry about it. We'll get back in his cinch. We just have to follow the path. I wasn't scared. Haley has been feeling weird about how alone we are, so she isn't scouting out the horizon with us.

Hey, guys, come check this out. She's at the edge of the clearing to the right of where we came in, looking at some kind of stone structure. We move in closer. It appears to be what I would imagine, spirit shrine to look like. If I had any idea what a shrine looked like, it's about three feet tall, rounded at the top, with a hole and a cavern in the middle. The whole thing is built out of very round gray stones, a little bigger than softballs, animal bones, twine, and ivy. The ivy has

creeped around and into every part of the structure, so we can't really tell if it is a part of it or a parasite. I realize now that aside from the clicking of James's camera, everything is dead silent. No wind, no rustling leaves, no animal footsteps. I can't even hear anyone breathing. Just click, click, click, click, of the shutter. Any ideas what this is?

Again, I asked towards pretty much no one. Nope's all around. Another weird thing I forgot to mention. The whole shrine thing is pretty poorly put together. There are visible cracks between the rocks and bones, and it looks like it could fall over at any moment. Still, the cavity in the center is pitch black. Hey, A-Anon, I dare you to stick your hand inside. Chad slaps me on the back, and I stumble towards it.

Fuck you, dude, no. Come on, don't you want to know what's inside? There's nothing inside there. It's just a pile of rocks. Then why don't you put your hand inside of it? Because I don't. Why don't you put your hand in it? If you're so curious, not my best comeback, but it works.

Okay, deal. Chad squats down, slowly moves his hand towards the hole. He's acting cool about it, but I can see the sweat beat on his forehead. I can feel the sweat beat on my forehead, too. He slides his arm, in it, up to the elbow, and it looks like he's found the back. See? He says, looking up at me, nothing in here, but... Suddenly Chad screams at the top of his lungs, more than a scream.

It's a screech. His eyes are wide and white, and his legs kick out from under him, so his body falls to the ground, but he's still held up by his arm in the hole. Stacey screams. Haley screams. Now grab Stacey by the waist and pull her away from his flanneline limbs, hero style. Stacey get back. Chad stops flailing and is laughing uncontrollably, pulls his arm out of the shrine. It's totally fine. Oh my God, Aynon. He's crying from how hard he's laughing. Stacy, get back. Still laughing. Jesus.

Still laughing. I figured you were skittish, but I had no idea. Not funny, Chad. Stacey seems as annoyed as me. Haley's laughing too. It was a little funny. Chad stands up. Stacey kicks him in the boot.

God, you're such a dick. James is laughing too, and I realize that he probably got pictures of the whole episode. I'm salty right now. But part of me knows it will be. funny later. We decided to head back down to the trail to the cabin. The walkback seems shorter than the walkout, almost like we were going downhill. I have to say, Chad's little stunt did clear the air for us a bit. I think we were all a little freaked by that dead deer still. We spend the whole walk back telling funny stories, mostly about first crushes or awkward sexual encounters.

All my stories make Stacey giggle. That feels nice. Turns out Chad's first crush pants him in the first grade. feels good to know. Actually, I learn a lot about chat on the walk back. His dad was in the military, and he spent a lot of time moving around as a child. We actually bond about that for a second, but by the time he reached junior high, his parents split up, so he moved to South Dakota with his mom, where he's been ever since. He says it was his dad who was so into hunting and all that. He says that they had done it a lot during his childhood, so now it was a way to still feel connected with him. I tell him I understood that feeling. That's the feeling I get when analyzing dead

stuff. Yeah, but that's fucking weird, Anon. Haley chimes in. We are all back at the cabin, with beers in hand, before I realized that we didn't even notice the deer corpse on the way back. At the cabin, we suddenly realized we're hungry as shit. Oh, don't worry, Anon, we've got that covered. Stacey assured me, as she whipped open the kitchen cabinets, food is stocked up. Chips, cereal, cookies, bread, granola bars, trail mix. It's honestly an unnecessary amount of food for the five of us, but like I said, we had originally planned on seven. I remember that we had each contributed $150. At the time, I thought it was largely for the cost of the cabin. Really, it was for booze and food. We satisfy our cravings on trail mix and shots of whiskey. Then we set out to build a campfire.

Wait, I say, aren't we here on a lake trip? Can we set the fire up by the lake? Great idea, Anon. Everyone's down. We pack up our shit and hike down to the lake. It's honestly probably less than a quarter mile. It can't be later than six o'clock by the time we get the fire going, but it's already dark. The water is crazy still. The moon isn't out yet, so it's jet black, not even reflecting the trees. No worries, though. The fire's warm, the laughs are easy, and we brought enough booze down to knock us all out. After we grill and eat, James busts out a deck of playing cards and suggests circle of death. It's a drinking game where every card is a different rule, FYI.

When a five is drawn, the group plays, Never Have I Ever, with three fingers. I hate this game. I always win, but everyone knows real point of the game is to lose, because if you win, it means you haven't done shit. I had one girlfriend for about four weeks in eighth grade. We made out a couple times, and I went for the booby grab, but that's it. The first five is drawn, and I end the game.

with three fingers still up. A few rounds later, the second five is drawn and I lose again, though I got to put a finger down for sneaking out. I don't tell them that it was to see my eighth grade girlfriend the night she broke up with me. After a bit, the third five is drawn. We've only gone through like 16 cards, but of course we're getting all the fives. I have all three fingers up again, but so to Stacy, so it doesn't feel quite so bad. You and me, A'an, three's company, She says, wiggling her fingers at me. I wiggle mine back, back, and we lean forward to touch fingertips. Our eyes catched her in our E.T.'s phone home moment.

The firelit dances across her smile, and for a second it seems to shift this sadness, like she just remembered something she had been trying hard to forget. All right, kids, six is for dicks. Chad cut into the moment. Anon, James, drink up. After the game, Chad tells us he's got a little trance, for everyone. Given some of the newfound information we have on Mr. James and Mr. Anon, I feel that now would be the perfect time to delve into a little surprise I brought along.

Pulls out to finely crafted white owl blunts. I've never smoked weed before this. At first, I think he's holding cigarillos, but luckily I kept that thought to myself. So what do you guys think? You want to get high? James has never smoked before either, so he and I exchanged glances. Haley's the first answer. Oh, hell yeah. Stacey puts a smile back on and says yes too. I'm in, I say, with a face of determination that garners a laugh. Be me. Be drunk and high for the first time, in the woods,

with the girl who seems too perfect to talk to you in a group of people you suspect of becoming your best friends. After the first blunt, Chad asked if we went on another. Stacey says she's good. I don't notice the question at first because I'm trying to figure out whether I think the fungus on the logs were sitting on is horsehair parachute or sulfur-tub. Hey, Anon, do you want to go down to the water with me? Look up. It's Stacy. Time to shine, Anon.

Uh, yeah, sure. We walked down to the water. Just far enough for the others that they can't really hear our conversation. The water looks awesome. The moon is out now and its reflection is crystal clear across the still black surface. The air is crisp and fresh on my face, nipping me a bit. Feeling ready for anything. Stacey starts making small talk about the tree. trees and the weather. I'm remarkably smooth here. Describe it as magical as I'll get out, though. When I actually look at the trees, I can't quite focus on them. They keep kind of shifting around on me, like they're moving. Well, like there's something in them moving. And like, I'm trying to stay out of my sight. The hair on the back of my neck is needles at this point.

The air around is more than nipping. It's biting. I double my efforts to find the shadows, but they're tricky little bastards. Hey, uh, Stacey, is it, is it me or are those trees like moving? I realize how this sounds, but I need some answers right about now, especially because the trees aren't just moving around each other, but they seem to be reaching up, trying to block out the sky. Stacey laughs. Anon, you're just stone.

That's what it's like sometimes. Just try to relax. Here, she grabs my hand. My heart starts pounding like crazy. Just focus on this. She says as she waves her fingers in between mine, this is supposed to make me relax? I look in her eyes.

Wow, I never realized how much you can feel just from looking at someone. Her eyes are a bright green in the moonlight, but the water's reflection is dancing shadows across her face. I guess the shadows were always there. She looks sad in a way, like she's been trying really hard to find something or see something, but she hasn't quite gotten it. Anon,

were you telling the truth when he said you've never slept to the girl? What did you just say? Uh, yeah, I, yeah, I was. Why is that? All right, Don Juan, step it up a notch. I don't know exactly. I guess it just never felt right, you know? I don't want it to be some random thing that happens.

I don't want to just do it. I'd want it to be special in some way. So I always just figured I'd wait until I was 10 out of 10. group post. That's really sweet actually. I wish I'd waited. I lost it when I was 15. He got older. I thought we'd be together forever. He broke up with me two days later. It's kind of gross to think about. Oh, I'm sorry. It's okay. It was a long time ago. Back by the fire, I hear the others laughing loudly. I look back and see that James and Chad have climbed part of a tree and are howling at the moon. But what about you, Anon? What do you mean by special? What does that look?

like. Oh, I don't know. I haven't thought about it a lot, I guess. Just a time when everything feels right. There'd be no worries or pressures. It'd feel like when you're in the forest alone and you hear a bird singing, but you don't know where it's coming from. But you don't have to because if you don't know where it's coming from, it seems like it's all around you. And then the song goes away and you can hear your own heart pounding in the silence. It'd be with someone who knew that feeling, someone who could give you that feeling with only her eyes. I paused for long eye contact. Then continue.

And it'd be in a place that seems separate from normal life, somewhere where my only memory would be of that moment, and it couldn't be planned. I'd ruin everything. We'd have to come from that place, in that moment, in impulse, but one that we knew was right. Oscar-worthy shit. I don't know if it's the booze or the woods or my soliloquy,

but just then Stacey leans over and kisses me on the mouth. Firework shoot in my head and Queen gears up for We Are the Champions. Until I break away. Wait, what about Chad? Once again, I'm hearing the words come out, but I can barely believe that I'm saying them. What? What about him? I mean, aren't you two like together or something?

I would sacrifice a small, fatally ill child right now if it meant that I would shut the fuck up. Oh, she chuckled a bit. No, we broke up months ago. I thought you knew. Praise be to the old gods and the new. No, I didn't. What happened there? Why?

Why won't I just stop talking? I don't know what usually happens. I just realize he's a better friend than a boyfriend. He's never serious about anything, you know? Oh, cool. I can be serious. She laughs again. Yeah, I've picked up on that.

Hey, do you not want to do this? Oh no, I really, really do. Okay, good, then stop talking. Okay, sorry for the long buildup. I'll start cutting to the chase a bit. Stacey and I go back to the cabin, claim one of the rooms for ourselves, engage in sweet, sweet... S the relations for the first time.

I won't go into details, but being drunk, high, exhausted from the day, I pass out immediately after. Wake up. No idea what time it is. Unbelievable pressure in my bladder. Gotta go ASAP. Realize I'm alone in the room. No, Stacey.

Feels bad for a second, but maybe she just went to hang out with the others while I slept it off. Walk into the main room. All the lights are off. Haley and James are asleep on the floor, both fully clothed but sitting real close to each other. I make a note to ask him about that later. Other room's door is such. As I go to the bathroom, I glance out the cabin's back window, see Stacey standing in the yard, looking down at something. There's something a little weird about the way she's standing.

like she's too rigid almost, but the bare piss demands attention, so I scoot off at the bathroom. Flip the seat up, unzipped the fly, and experience sweet relief. Try to remember the last time I peed that day because this has taken a while. Rest my hand on the window still next to the toilet. I've never understood why people put windows in bathrooms, but whatever. Maybe people like to look at nature while they're dropping a deuce. Glant out the window. It's all fogged up, which makes sense because the cabin is heated and it gets cold.

Hold a shit out here at night. I take my sleeve and wipe away at some of the condensation. And I swear to God, I see a fucking face on the other side of the glass. I scream and fall backwards, tripping over the toilet. Piss goes everywhere. Look back at the window, but the face is gone. Get pants situated and sprint outside to warn Stacy that something's out there. Run behind the cabin to see where she was standing.

No one's there. My adrenaline is pumping on max now. sprint around the cabins of the front, still shouting her name. Haley and James come outside, woken by all the commotion. Tell them I can't find Stacey, in that I saw someone looking into the bathroom window. Before they can respond, we hear a voice. Hey, turn and see Stacey, standing in front of the cabin. Stacey, where'd you go? I demand.

I can hear that I sound like a crazy person, but I don't stop it. What are you talking about? I was here. She's strangely calm about this situation and about me shouting. Why didn't respond to me yelling for you? I did. I said, hey. Okay, whatever. There's someone else out here.

We have to go inside. We go back inside and lock the doors. By this time, Chad's up too, so I explained what happened. What I didn't mention earlier is that what I saw in the window wasn't just a person's face. It was like a grotesque recreation of a person's face. I only saw it for a second, but it looked like this screen painting. Its jaw was slack and vacant, like it had been broken off and left a dangle. Its eyes and nose were giant black holes sunken in from the rest of the face.

I explained this to them, and Stacey starts laughing. I'm not joking, Stacey. I saw someone or something staring at me. She's still laughing, but there's something kind of off about it. It's forced in a way. Anon, that was me. I was just trying to spook you because I heard you go to the bathroom. The group breathes a sigh of relief and chuckles a bit with her.

I start to protest, but can't think of anything to say. What she's saying doesn't make sense, but then again, what I'm saying doesn't really make much sense either, so I just stutter out a week. Are you sure? Positive. Chad passed me on the shoulder. Okay, bud, don't take it too hard. The reefer can get us all spooked from time to time.

I tell them that I don't feel stoned anymore. but they aren't phased. Everyone is tired. It's the middle of the night, so we all agree to go back to sleep. Stacey asks if she can have the room to herself. She doesn't sleep well with other people. She shared the room with Haley last night, but I can take a hint, so I post up to the living room.

Still, I can't shake the image of that face in the window. I keep replaying the scene in my mind. She was about 30 feet from the cabin when I saw her from the main room. Could she have gone to the window that fast? Where did she go when I ran out there? Why was she outside in the first place? Wednesday morning. I wake up with James and Haley,

and aside from a massive hangover, the morning commences like yesterday, making breakfast, drinking beer, listening to some of the records we found. Stacey's aunt must have a thing for jazz and blues, but that's fine with me, Louis Armstrong in the morning. What a wonderful world.

After a bit, Chad comes out and has a heyday giving me shit for last night. Once we finish eating and down a few more, morning brew, stow killed the hangovers. We notice that Stacy still hasn't gotten up. We knock on her door and call for her. No answer. After exchanging glances, we try the knob.

Locked. The door is only locked from the inside, so James suggests that maybe she just had a long night. We play it cool, but clearly everyone's a bit worried. Try knocking again. Still, no answer. Each room has a window to it, James and I walk around the side of the cabin to check if she's inside.

We peek through the window and see Stacy sitting on the edge of the bed. Her head is bent down so her hair is covering her face. She has that same weird, rigid posture she had in the yard last night, and she seems to just be going through her phone. Even from outside the cabin, we can hear Chad knocking and calling her name, but she is just ignoring him. I tap on the glass of the window and immediately her head jerks towards me. There was a darkness across her face that I had never seen before.

She had huge bags under her eyes, like she hadn't slept in weeks, and her cheeks were gone and hollow. Our eyes met for a second, and I felt this surge of hate pulsed from her glare. For the first time, I start to believe that maybe it was her in the window last night. Stacey, are you feeling okay? James asks. When she turns to look at him, her entire face shifts. It lights up and she flashes us, her usual smile. I was just checking a few things out. I'll be right out.

And with that, she stands up and opens the door to Chad. James and I exchange glances for a second. Did she look okay to you, I ask? I don't know, man. I guess. That was really weird, though. Maybe she's been drinking too much. James takes a photo of the room from the window before we went.

We're out front to join the others. That afternoon, we go down my first. by the water again. On the walk down, I asked Daisy how she's feeling, wondering if we would talk about last night. Wondering if we should talk about either part of last night. I'm fine. Let's just have some fun, okay? At this point, I'm getting my little feelings hurt a bit, but she's right. We should just have fun. We can talk about whatever happened between her and me another time. No worries. The water is still ice cold, but we make a game out of daring people to jump in. Sometimes with a ball being tossed at them. Sometimes from a tree. You know, usual cold lake

shit. Chad asked Stacey to join in, offering to throw her a pass. She says she's fine and stays seated on the grass above the beach. Throughout the day, I noticed James and Haley getting even more flirty flirt. She keeps getting her to pose next to trees or in the water or on the little bit of beach. She's clearly into the attention, but I can't blame her. The photos look phenomenal. Real talk. My James has a gift. At one point, he has me clicked through some of the pictures he's nabbed on the trip so far. After getting through a few dozen of Haley, including some from last night around the fire, I get to the general nature shots of the trip. After about a million shots of trees and bushes, I clicked back far enough to see that dead deer we passed the first day. I don't know how

I didn't notice it at the time, but looking at the photo, I realized there were no flies anywhere around it. This was a torn apart rotten carcass, and there weren't any signs of scavening insects at all. I set the zoom to the max just to make sure and can't find anything. When I click around the photo, in the background between two of the trees in the distance, there was a shadow, almost like a silhouette. Hey, James, look at this. I pull him over and show him the camera. Look at what? There, in the background. Does that look like a person to you? He squins at it for a second. I don't know about that, dude. I think you're letting your imagination can take the better of you. That could be literally anything. Also, it could be nothing. Photos capture tricks of the light all the time. That's part of the

fun. How do you think I got those photos of Haley glowing by the fire last night? If you adjust the shutter rate, all the lights blends together. I don't feel like arguing with him over photography, so I let go. Once we all get tired of the lake, we head back up for a late lunch. We grill out once again, and again, I realize all at once that day drinking will get you famished. Everybody chowes down except Stacey. She says she's not hungry. Chad tells her that she's been drinking all day. She's got to eat. That gets me wondering, has she been drinking all day? I haven't noticed it. Maybe she was too drunk last night and isn't feeling it now. Maybe she regrets last night and is trying to keep a hold of herself. Feels bad, man. Eventually,

Chad gets her to eat, but she just kind of picks of the hamburger meat. After lunch, James and Haley go for a walk in the woods. Chad is by far the most far in on the booth, so he's ready for a nap. Leaving Stacy and I alone for the first time since last night, seems like as good of a time to bring it up. We're in the main room of the cabin. She's sitting on the floor with her legs criss-cross applesauce, examining a safety pin which is holding together a tear in her shirt sleeve. she's hunched over and her hair is covering her face. I've never seen her worn a torn short before, and I've never seen this shirt either, but whatever.

There have been a lot of firsts on this trip. I sit down next to her, but she doesn't acknowledge it. Hey, Stacey, should we talk about last night? Here, she looks up at me. Her face looks tired again and sad. What about last night, she asks, without expression, and then she returns to the safety pin. finally succeeding in opening it.

I just, I don't know. How do you feel about what happened, I guess? Was it okay? Do you think it was okay? She's still not looking at me, just turning the safety pin over and over again in her fingers. I mean, yeah, I think so. I mean, I'm glad it happened.

I don't regret it or anything. Are you glad it happened? She doesn't say anything for a moment, and I feel the weight of that silence sink in. Stacey, I just... She turns her head towards me, and her hair falls away revealing a huge plastic smile. Her eyes lock with mine again, but they aren't the dazzling green eyes that I'd known. These eyes are grayed and vacant, flat, like a doll's eyes, sitting over a gigantic smile. I'm glad it happened, she says, deadpanned, staring me to be.

down. As she says this, she places her left hand on my thigh. And without breaking eye contact, she uses her right hand to stick that safety pin through my jeans and into my leg, as deep as it can go. I yell and jump up, which only makes it hurt worse. What the fuck, Stacey? Jesus! I cuss at her, but she just keeps staring at me with that same vacant smile. I limp over to the bathroom and sit on the toilet to get this thing out. The pin is lodged over an inch into my thigh, and the suction mean that removing it is a slow process. I feel my skin pinch up to grip the needle as I pull it throwing out of my thigh. Once it's out, a few drops of blood stain my jeans. I bandage up, so the only real harm is a burning pulse of my thigh. I don't know what to do next because everyone

is gone but the two of us, and I'm not trying to talk to her again in case she has something bigger than a pin next time. I end up just sitting in the bathroom, thinking about everything, until I hear some doors open and close and figure that the coast is clear. Sure enough, when I go out to the main room, Stacy is gone, and the door to her room is closed. Suddenly, the cabin feels claustrophobic, so I go out for some fresh air. After a good amount of grumbling who stabbed someone with a fucking safety pin, I realize that I'm actually pretty drunk at this point. Frankly, we've all been drunk the whole time, and the sun is bright and cozy,

so I find myself a nice tree on the edge of the cul-de-sac to post up in for a little nap. I wake up to the sound of James's camera shutter. Click, click, click. Oh, dude, fuck off with that right now. My leg still hurts and I'm not in the best mood in general. James laughs, but stops taking photos. What's the matter, grumpy Gus? Why are you out here alone?

I tell him that's Stacy in about last night and today and why my leg is bleeding. Yeah, that's pretty weird, dude. He basically tells me that I should try to lay low and maybe give her some space for the rest of the trip, since we're only there for another two nights. And we only have one car, so it's not like I can leave early. That makes as much sense as anything else still. This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I said

that I wanted my first time to be memorable. We go back to the cabin to see Chad packing up some backpacks. I ask him if he's leaving or something. out, Jane on. I thought we were just starting to get along. Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just, why are you packing up? Relax, bud, I'm just fucking with you.

My feelings don't get hurt that easily. He pauses here for a second, and I can't decide if he's implying something about me. Regardless, he continues. I just figured we'd had enough time lushing it up at this cabin. James and I did some talking and decided it'd be fun to spend a night out in the woods, set up some tents, take a little firepour. unplug for a night. I actually have trouble believing that he's saying this. This sounds like the

worst idea ever. Uh, I don't know, man. That doesn't sound very safe. What about like wild animals or something? What I meant to say is what about that fucking spooky ass face I saw in the window? But I figured they wouldn't go over well. Oh, don't worry about them. Chad reassures me. We aren't bringing any food. They'd be much interested in. Plus, they don't like fire. So as long as that's going, we should be fine. I'm still not sold. Okay, but like, would you want to go off the trail? We got turned around yesterday and didn't realize it. What if we get lost out here? You yourself said that there's no one to call. Yeah, but that's what we have compasses for and a map. We know the coordinates of the cabin. We know the route of the road that leads to the cabin. We're just going to go east for a bit

anyway. There's not much getting lost we can do so long as we walk straight. Besides, I'm an Eagle Scout. This isn't exactly a new thing for me. Chad's an Eagle Scout. Of fucking Corseus. Come on, dude, it'll be fun. James is weirdly excited about the prospect. Then I see the hickey on his neck and understand his real motivations. I protest a little bit more,

looking for Haley for support, but she just says that if I don't want to go, I can just stay at the cabin alone. I start packing up my backpack, cursing the whole time. Chad had his hike for about two hours on. off of the trail. Thankfully, no one is drinking as much tonight. I stay stone sober.

The feeling of the hike itself is hard to pin down. On the one hand, James, Chad, and Haley seem to be having a great time. They're joking and laughing and telling camp stories. The three of them honestly could be made into a promotional video for Lake Ohio. Friends, Forrest, and good feels. Stacy and I are another story. She's walking slower than anyone else and keeps fun behind the group because of it. Also, sometimes she just stops walking altogether and just

stares into the distance. I do my best to ignore it, but it consumes all of my attention. She barely speaks to anyone. Chad and Haley, each try to pull her into the conversation, but she just gives one or two word responses. By the time we stop hiking and set up camp, I'm basically watching everything she does. She's slow-bid everything, from tying her shoes to zipping and unzipping her backpack. The more I watch her. her, the more I get the impression that she's simply forgotten how to do most things and is trying to relearn them. We just brought one tent, but it's huge and has two zip-off side compartments. Chad, James, Haley, and I set it up pretty quickly, while Stacey just kind of stands and watches us.

While James and I dig the fire pit, Chad forges around from nearby for wood. Haley joins Stacy sitting on a fallen tree. I try to listen to the conversation, but because of the digging and Chad's rustling around can only make out parts. From what I do hear, though, Haley starts by saying she is glad that Stacey had us all out here, talking about how awesome it is and such. Stacey still isn't saying much, though at least she's smiling now. Haley's voice gets concerned, and she seems to be asking if everything's okay. She's asking about what happened with me last night.

Stacey's response seemed to not even change. She's still monotone. Still, smiling. Once Chad finishes arranging the wood for the fire, James calls Haley over and asks to get a picture of her lightning in it. Haley leaves Stacey saying, Well, if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm here. Despite all of Chad's chest puffing about wilderness,

he douses those twigs in lighter fluid. When Haley gets closer with the lighter, the stack bursts into a plume of flames for an instant, and Haley squeals and jumps back. I asked James if he got it, and he winks at me. Once the fire is started and everyone is more or less situated, James goes to work with his camera again. I want to ask him to stop, to call him over so that maybe he can help me work things out,

but it's sundown and the lighting couldn't be better. And I know that pictures like these are the main reason he's here. Haley tries to get him to come sit down with us, but the only results in him asking her to be in more photos. She declines, but says maybe later. I think at this point, Haley blames me for the state that Stacey is in, because her usual cold shoulder, snarky comments, have transitioned into complete silence and death stares. James brought along supplies for smores,

so even though he isn't participating, the rest of us sit down to roast some marshmallows. I don't really like s'mores, but at least it's something to do. Chad challenges Haley, Stacey and me, to see who can roast their marshmallows to the best golden brown. I know that the best way to do it is to get the marshmallow near the base of the flame next to the embers, but outside of any

flames themselves. That way, it won't catch. I'm feeling pretty good about my roast job when I pull it out, and I hold off on smashing it between some grams until we can compare. Chads is pretty good, too, but the best is definitely Haley's. It is one continuous tan color the whole way around. I ask how she did it, but she says it's a trade secret, and she'll never tell. We look over to Stacey to rank hers, but she hasn't pulled it out of the fire yet. The end of her poker is just covered in this shriveled black wad, which we watch drip into the fire. We each just kind of stare at Stacey and disbelieve until she mutters out a,

sorry. No one really responds to her, but Chad's never been one to let awkward silences abide, so he asks if we want to hear a story. From the look on his face and they glow the fire, I can tell it's going to be a scary one. Oh, a night, much like tonight. A group of friends, much like this one, were lost in the woods on a camping trip.

After hours of searching for shelter, none of them, being a trained Eagle Scout, they stumbled across an abandoned cabin. They knocked on the door, but when there was no answer, and the temperature began to drop, they let themselves in. The cabin had only one room and was empty except for a few pieces of furniture. It was dim inside, so it was hard to see the full interior. But as these youngsters looked around, they found that each wall of the cabin had a grotesque portrait of a human face, looking twisted and angry, still with no other options, and only a

slight discomfort at the art choice. The group huddled up for the night. In the morning, though, they were shocked to see that the cabin had no portraits on the walls, only windows. We all kind of grown out of approval, having heard it before in the sixth grade. Haley volunteers do tell the next one, Okay, so this one isn't so cheesy, and it doesn't take place in the woods. It happened to a friend of mine, actually. When she was like six years old, her family got this great deal on an old house. I'd been on the market for a while, so the sellers were willing to concede a lot on their asking price. Well, one night, my friend was in bed, and she heard her mother calling her downstairs. She kind of ignored it at first, hoping she had misheard it and could go on sleeping,

but her mother kept calling her and kept calling her. little worried at this point. She got out of bed and began walking through the hall. She could still hear her mother calling for her, calling her sweetie and all this from the kitchen downstairs. But as she was going through the hall, her mother's bedroom door opened. Her mom grabbed her by the nightgown, terrified and said, don't go down there. I heard it too. They called the cops, but there was no one else in the house. Afterwards, they looked into the house's history and found out that it had been on the market for so long because a previous owner had murdered her daughter in the kitchen and baked her in the oven afterwards. Yeah, I don't believe that at all,

Chad says. Realtors have to disclose past crimes and stuff like that. Not if it wasn't the immediate previous owners. Okay, but still, like, how did they call the police without going downstairs? Did your friend have a cell phone 10 years ago? Jesus, Chad, it's just a story. You don't have to be a dick about it, just because you're a son. sucked. I didn't say anything through all of this because I'm distracted by how pitch black the woods around us have gotten and how Stacey has just been sitting, turning over a stick in her hands, not looking at any one telling the stories. What if you were trapped somewhere for a really long time? Stacey cuts off Chad and Haley's argument. She is speaking, slow and deliberately,

like she's finding each word individually. And you didn't know why you were trapped there. but all you wanted was to get out. What would you do to get out? Wait, I don't understand, Chad butts in. Where am I trapped? Like a basement or something? Stacey doesn't respond, but gives him the same blank stare she gave me earlier that day. From the distance we hear in animal squeal, like in pain or fear.

We're all out of tension now and suddenly realize that James is nowhere to be found. What the fuck, where's James, Chad asks, trying to take charge at the situation. I don't know. I thought he was just over there taking photos. I pointed the spot just outside of camp, where I'd last seen him. There's another screeching the distance. Louder and more painful than the first. It's coming from the direction of the cabin. We each grab as flashlight and run out searching for James. We run probably 500 yards away from our campsite, careful to stay inside of each other. Haley, Chad, and I are calling out his name, frantically. Stacey is just kind of following us, pointing her flashlight at the ground.

We haven't heard any more noises since those first two screams, so we figure he can't be this way. We double back to the campsite so that we can search in another direction without getting turned around. We're still calling out his name. On the way back to camp, my flashlight reflects off something on the ground. I go to check it out.

It's James's camera. My panic is on high at this point. I show it to Chad, and he doesn't even try to rationalize. Oh, fuck. Now we're sprinting back to the campsite, screaming James' name. We are getting closer to the fire. I see a shadowy figure sitting by our tent. I stop everyone from running and pointed out.

I see Chad grip his heavy, police-grade flashlight tighter, knuckles white. We slowly move forward. The person doesn't seem to have noticed us, though I can't imagine how. They have a hood up, and they're just sitting, staring at the fire. About 20 feet away, I step on a twig, which snaps loudly. The figure at the campsite looks up, straight at me. Oh. Hey, guys.

It's James. It's James. What the fuck, dude? Where have you been? I don't even try to conceal the panic in my voice. What do you mean? I just came back here and everyone was gone. Yeah, because you disappeared and we heard screaming.

I didn't hear anything. His voice is deadpaned. How could you not have heard them? They were loud as fuck. I don't know. I just didn't. I was walking around. Then I decided to come back.

I didn't realize anything had happened. Something is very, very wrong at this point. For one thing, I've never seen James with his hood up before. For another, I've never seen him without his camera. And he just dropped it in the woods. And the whole way he's just speaking to us is just off. I hand him his camera. Whatever, dude, here's your baby. I found it on the ground over there.

He looks a bit confused when I hand it to him, but he takes it without questioning. Thanks. I look over to Chad and Haley. They're as no doubt as me. Even Stacy looks spooked by it. She's still not saying much, but she hasn't stopped staring at him since we got back to the campsite. We all sit down again. So, what were you doing before you left?

James asks. We were telling scary stories. Chad answers, because Haley and I are still too uncomfortable to engage. Oh, cool. Who was telling? Well, Stacey had just started one when we heard whatever it was we heard. Chad's still trying to keep things normal, which I commend him for, but I can't handle the weirdness, and I'm not about to listen to more scary stories on this level of alert. Stacey, what was your story? James asks, turning his head fast to look at her,

She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off. I think we're done with stories for the night. Yeah, I agree, Haley adds. I think I'm going to sleep. That's probably a good idea. Chad with seconds. Hey, James, uh, just don't go wandering off again, okay? Okay.

James says without smile or emotion or acknowledgement of the trouble he's caused us. After Chad and Haley go into the tent, Stacey turns away from the fire and stares at the trees. I'm still upset with James and concerned about him, but more than anything, I want to know that he's okay. I ask him if he got any good photos in the woods. He seems confused. I point to his camera, and some part of him begins to understand. He asks if I want to go through them with them.

We start from the last ones I had seen and move forward chronologically. Most of the photos are what I would have expected, fallen trees, moonlight through the leaves, are campfire from a distance, glowing in the dark. Then we come to photos of another dead deer. It has the same pattern of mutilation as what we saw during that first hike, like it's been turned inside out. The ribs are exposed and broken. There are no flies around the corpse.

There are several photos of this deer from different angles, with different focus. I try to take a closer look, but James clicks through them quickly. Hey, wait, I want to check that one out a bit more. James's face shows no reaction to what I said, but his mouth puts out. Wait. The photos become a series of shots of trees again. Actually, they seem to be shots of the same trees zooming in on the distance. I realized that he turned the auto-capture mode on the camera and appears have been holding it by his side.

Then it looks like he might have dropped his camera because the images are blurring. and from low to the ground. There are three photos in a row from the ground where James is partially in view from the back. In the last of these, there is a horizontal gray streak on the right side of the picture. I only see it for a moment because James clicks onto the photos the camera took line on the ground of the grass. There are dozens of these, each of them the same. Then the photos end. I turn the camera towards me, still in his hand, and scroll back to the last photo of James. I quickly zoom on the gray streak to the right. Though the picture is blurry for movement and out of focus from the drop, I am certain that I see long, crooked fingers on the

end of the streak, reaching for James. James takes the camera from me. I think I'm going to get some more shots. Wait, I protest, but he's already walking away. Wait, can you let me see that again? Later. is the only thing he says as he walks out of the firelight. He turns back to me and I hear the shutter close. Click, click, click. I have no idea what to do with any of this. Suddenly, the shadows between the trees seem to start moving again. My head is feeling light and wavy like I might pass out at any moment.

Stacey, I ask. She's still facing away from the fire. Yes? Will you be okay if I go to sleep now? Yes. Okay. Just don't go anywhere, okay? Where would I go?

She asked, without inflection or turning. I don't know. Just promise you won't leave the fire tonight, okay? Okay. I crawl into a tent and a surge of panic runs through my spine at its emptiness. I see movement to my left and realize that Chad and Haley

must have opted to share one of these smaller zip-off sections. I ask if I can join them, and the three of us huddle together under the canvas. We all agree that something very weird is going on. None of us know what to do. I whispered to them about the photos I saw. Chad dismisses them, saying that it's late and everyone is probably dehydrated and that it's best to wait until morning to make any decisions about things.

Haley says she doesn't know what it is, but there's something scary about James now. The three of us cuddled together for warmth or security in the swimming feeling in my head takes over. Everything goes black. At one point in the night, I wake and peer out of the tent. The fire is out. James and Stacey are sitting on opposite sides of the cold fire pit, staring at each other in silence. I try to decide if I'm dreaming or not, but fade to darkness again before I do.

Thursday morning, I can see my breath when I wake up. I grip my fingers a few times to remind myself that they work before unzipping the tent and crawling outside. The sky is gray and oppressive, with a thick layer of clouds, blocking out the morning sun. Our campsite is a littered mess. Beer cans and snack bags are strewn everywhere. A lot of them look mostly unfinished.

I go to work picking the trash up while I try to work through what I remember from last night. As a kid, I would get scared a lot at night. And in the morning, I would laugh it off, realizing that in my night panic, I had missed one simple detail that explained whatever I found frightening. I can't think of anything to laugh about now. I remember the photos James took last.

night and realize I have to see them now before he can protest. I slowly unzip the main tent and see James and Stacey laying rigidly side by side. I scan for a moment and find his camera within arm's reach. I slowly pull it out and zip up the tent. To make sure I have enough time, I walk away from the campsite, leaving everyone asleep. I get about 15 yards away before I click the camera on. I go to check the photos. There are dozens. of Stacey, sitting by the dead fire pit. Clicking backwards, every photo is the same, just a head-on shot of Stacey staring at the camera. I keep clicking back in time, and the fire reignites and grows, but still Stacey is the same.

These photos must have covered over an hour. Eventually, I get to the spree of photos he took of me before I went in the tent. My eyes look wild and unhinged. There's dirt all over my face and my cheeks are gaunt and sharp. I've never seen myself look like this. I clicked to go back further in the photos end. The photos end. There are no pictures of James in the woods.

There are no pictures of the hike. No lake. No shrine. No dead deer. No cabin. Just pictures of Stacy and me from that night. I check to see if I can recover recently deleted files. And to my surprise, I can.

The camera starts to load the recovered files, but is moving slowly. I see my breath as I exhale and realize that this temperature is probably not good for it. A battery icon flashes red for a moment. The screen goes black. Fuck. I walk back at the campsite and find everyone in the process of waking up. James asked why I took his camera, and I tell him I wanted to try to get some shots, but the battery died. He says I can hold on to it if I want.

He's never let me keep his camera before. We pack everything up in almost total silence and hike back to the cabin. At one point during the hike back, Chad and I get far enough ahead of the others to whisper without being heard. I tell him about the photos being gone. I can see that he looks concerned but writes it off, saying maybe James had an extra memory card or needed more space. Not even he believes that. When we get back to the cabin, Haley starts complaining of feeling ill. I take this opportunity to suggest that maybe we should head home a day early.

Say, I'm not feeling well either. I wasn't. No. It's from Stacey. She said it quickly like a command. Chad and I give her a puzzled look. It looks like it's going to storm soon. Chad and I look outside.

She's actually right. The clouds have grown darker, angrier, and the roads we took here could easily be flooded. We agree to stay and wait out the storm. James asks if we want to go for a hike like we did the first day. I don't know, Chad says. We should all probably stand in the cabin. There's no point in anyone getting caught out there on the rain.

Oh, James replies. The room is thick with silence. I realize that there is a definite split with Chad, Haley and I standing close together, and James and Stacey each about nine feet away. Haley says she's going to go lay down. Chad decides to make some lunch. I stay in the living room with the other two.

I can't stop looking at them. James walks over to the record collection and starts flipping through them. Mechanically. There are bruises on the back of his hand and neck. I ask him what happened. He responds without looking at me. I fell. Stacey takes out her phone again.

We still don't have any signal here, but she scrolls through it reading intently. I nonchalantly walk behind her to see her screen. She's scrolling through text conversations. backwards. I start to pack up the non-essentials, hoping to get out of here as soon as the storm passes. James pulls a record out. Ella Fitzgerald, classic hits. The record starts with a high-pitched scratching, a moment of silence, and then Ella Fitzgerald's voice, distorted and screeching. James just stands in front of the record player, looking at it while she screeches on. I walk over and adjust the speed to the lower setting. Her voice moves out.

alone in blue as can be, dream a little dream of me. A thunder clap breaks across the sky and opens up a downpour. The afternoon creeps by, tenses needles. We eat, listen to the record, and wash the rain, mostly in silence. Lightning flashes in the distance, and I count the seconds until we hear the boom. When the music stops, no one bothers to change it. Chad washes the dishes and packs his own bags. I try to read, but can't focus on anything. James asks if we want to go down to the lake. It's pouring down rain outside. Chad chuckles at first, then realizes he's serious. Uh, no, dude, we're in the middle of a lightning storm. That's not a good idea. Oh, another flash of lightning across the sky, this time much closer. Suddenly, I remember the camera and the recovered files.

I asked James for the charger. He's standing, looking out the window, says it's in his bag. I dig through stuff real quick, find it, and plug in the camera. It's going to take a minute to charge. I go over to the back window. The rain is so heavy I can't even see the trees 30 feet away. It's pitch black outside. I check on the camera. Still, no charge.

I go over the Stacy again. She's still scrolling through text messages. She's gotten almost two years back now. I ask her what she's doing. Just reading. She's scrolling backwards. She's scrolling backwards and her eyes are moving over every word. Backwards.

I hear the cheery musical notes of the camera powering on. Rush over to it. Open files. Scroll past the dozens of Stacey. Scroll past me. See the recovered files. There's about 50 of them. Each of them is a headshot of James.

In each of them, he's making a different face. Not goofy face is just expressions, smiling, laughing, frowning, looking disgusted, looking frightened, looking surprised, etc., but none of them look right. For one thing, his eyes are sunken and hollow looking. More than that, though. In each photo, in each expression, while the rest of his face shifts, his eyes stay the same. His eyes are the same in every photo. There are over 50 of these.

I feel adrenaline shoot down my spine. He's still just staring out the window. I look over to him, trying to figure out what he's staring at. I realize that the light from the room and the darkness outside kind of makes a blurry gray reflection of him on the window in front of his face. I glance at the reflection. It's hard to see because it's blurry and distorted by the rain, so I squint to make it out better.

When I see it, I feel my gut drop out of it. my ass. It's the same gray sunken face I saw in the bathroom window. It's standing, face to face, with James. I jerk back a bit, even though I'm across the room. Then while James stays still, the gray face turns and looks right at me. I feel the pressure of those vacant sunken holes. It's like a calling. Lightning flashes in through the window, thunder blasts, and everything goes dark. The power is out. Stacey's face is the only thing I can see, lit by the glow of her phone as she looks up towards James and the window. I struggle to get my phone out for a flashlight. When I get it on, James is standing in the middle of the room, staring at me wide-eyed. I shine

at the window and there's nothing there. Chad, Chad, I call out. Hey, hey, I'm right here, he says, clicking on his flashlight, which does a much better job of illuminating the room. I guess the storm knocked the power out, he continued. Well, no shit, I snap at him. Look, I definitely saw someone or something in the fucking window again. I know I did, and this motherfucker was looking right at it. I point an accusatory finger at James, who is still standing in the center of the room. Stacey is standing too.

At this point, she and James just look at me blankly. Chad starts to say something, but is cut off by a scream from Haley's room. We rush in to see her crouching the corner, clutching a blanket, screaming, staring at the window. Chad tries to calm her down. I looked to where she's staring. I shine the light from my phone onto the window. On the right side of the glass, I see a fading handprint. The fingers on the handprint are grotesquely elongated. After a second, it's completely faded away. I turn back to Haley, who is hysterical, still staring at the window. Chad tries to get her to the main room, slowly getting her to her feet. He shines his light towards the bedroom door. James is standing in it. What's going on?

James' voice sounds like nothing, like it's coming from nowhere and no one. I don't know, Chad answers. Some weird shit is happening. Haley's freaked out. We should all just sit in the living room together. What's happened? James asks, not moving from the doorway. I don't know what's happening, James. Chad is no longer keeping the frustration from his voice. James' face ticked a bit when Chad said his name. But I'm trying to figure it out, Chad continued, slowly, which is why we should all go to the living room. James looks over to me and tells his head like a question.

James, I say, locking eyes with him, feeling a tension I've never experienced before. Please move him out of the way. My heart is pounding in my ears, A booming over the pattering rain on the window. Silently, James steps back and moves to the living room. Chad walks out with Haley, who is still crying, but trying to stifle it. Once we're on the living room, Chad pulls out the electric lantern we brought and sets it in the middle.

Chad and Haley sit on the couch while we try to get her to talk. She says she doesn't know what happened. She woke up when the thunder sounded the first time but decided to stay in bed. Then, she managed to stammer out. right before the power went out. When the lightning flashed, I, I saw this, this, this thing in the window like a demon's staring at me. It didn't have eyes, but I knew it was staring at me, and it had its hand up, like it was trying to get near, but couldn't because of the glass. That's finally enough for Chad.

He stands up and turns to Stacy and James. All right, you two, what the fuck is going on here? While this is happening, I run to each door and window, making sure they are closed and locked. The deadbolt to the front door is ice cold, stinging my fingers as I turn it. James and Stacey are in the middle of the living room. They just look confused. Stacey, she locks eyes with Chad when he says her name. What happened to you that night you were outside?

Nothing. I just went for a walk. Well, what happened to your neck? I'm pacing behind them and notice for the first time this is a massive bruise on the side of her neck. I don't know how I missed it. Maybe she had covered it before. I don't know. Fucking Christ.

Chad throws his hands up, resting them on his head, and then joins me pacing. He asks each of them a few more questions like this. Their answers are always, I don't know, or what do you mean? Stacey doesn't move, but she stops looking at Chad. She turns to stare at the window. What the fuck do you mean you don't know? Chad is yelling at James now, getting in his face. You don't know what happened to your hands?

you don't know where you went last night? You have to fucking know. With the last line, he pushes James' chest. James falls backwards on the ground, but stands back up without saying anything. What about that, Chad says? Closing the distance between James and himself. Do you know about that? Do you remember that? Chad pushes James against the wall by the front door. Still, Stacy isn't looking at them. Say something, Chad yells as he grabs James's shirt and slams him against the wall. When James hits the wall, several things happen at once. The whole cabin shakes. All of the lights flash on.

The record player begins to play again, screeching louder and faster than before, sounding nothing like Ella Fitzgerald. Haley lets out a long, continuous scream. I look to the windows. With the lights back on, it's possible to see out again for a few feet. In the windows, in each of the windows surrounding the cabin,

there is gray figures. with no faces and sunken eye sockets, pressing their long, deformed hands against the glass. The record player is screeching out a demonic version of putting on the ritz, too high and too fast. Chad lets go of James and kind of stumbles back into the couch, staring at the faces in the windows. Haley is still screaming. Somehow, despite all of this, I hear Stacey say, I think we should go for a hike. James moves towards the front door with his hand out towards the lock.

Without thinking about it, I grab an empty bottle from the table and smash it against his head. He falls to the ground. Unconscious. If you're blue and you don't know where to go, the record player screeches out. The figures in the glass are barely moving. They just stare at us, stroking the glass longingly. I dragged James' unconscious body over to the rest of the group. Stacey still doesn't look concerned.

I stand next to Chad for a second, trying to comprehend the situation. We can all see them. We can clearly all see them. We can see them and they can see us and they want to get inside. Different types who wear a day coat, pants with stripes and cutaway coat, perfect fits. I scan from window to window feeling paralyzed. I can't decide what to do. I can barely even think about what's happening.

Dressed up like a million dollar trooper, trying hard to look like Greg Cooper, super duper. Then without any of us doing anything, the figures take their hands from the glass and they just kind of move away. I have no other explanation than that. Dressed up Lika. Dressed up Lika. Dressed up Lika. Dressed up Lika. I unplug the fucking record player.

Stop the skipping. And we sit in the new quiet. The rain is lighter, but still pattering on the windows. I go back to the couch with Haley and Chad. Stacey is in the chair beside us. James and unconscious on the floor. Chad checks to make sure he's still breathing and alive and all that. And then we just...

Sit there. None of us take our eyes off of the windows. While the rain lessens and then stops, while the night creeps on and on, we keep staring at the windows. No more figures appear in the glass. At some point during the night, James wakes up. He's still being weird, but he does move towards the door or anything, so we just sit with him. He says he doesn't remember anything from that night. About an hour after it gets light, we check outside. We haven't seen any other. We haven't seen anything for maybe six hours now, so we figure it's clear. We quickly pack up the car and drive away. As we leave, I glance back at the cabin. In the little grass patch between the cabin and the woods, there are three new deer bodies. Each of them is turned inside out, like the others. That makes five

total. The drive home is terrible and silent. After that trip, James and Stacy kind of disappeared. I would see them at school sometimes, but only ever talking to each other. They stopped responding to their friends's phone calls. They didn't go to any dances. They dropped out of all their clubs and stuff. I heard a rumor that James never even graduated, but I don't know if that's true, and I never looked into it. I heard other rumors, too, like that each of their pets mysteriously disappeared one by one shortly after our return, or that James still takes a million pictures, but they are all of Stacey now. Chad and I are still in contact today. When we first got back, I tried to talk to anyone I could about what happened.

Everyone just kind of laughed it off as a scary story I was taking too seriously. When I insisted that it happened, I could see their eyes shift a bit. If I pressured too hard, I would get vacant stares and questions like, do you need someone to talk about this? Sometimes I bring it up to Chad, but the last time I did, he told me to just forget about it. Neither of us I've heard from Haley since the graduation. I'm not sure where else to go with this. I lost my best friend and the girl I thought I was in love with.

And no one believes me how. Sometimes I don't know if I believe me either. So, what do you think? And so, guys, what do you think? think about this story? I mean, I thought this story was great. This was a long, long story, an hour and a half long almost. This is longer than any other story I've covered on the channel on a long, long while, especially for Chan. So what did you think? I felt like I was watching a future or feature-length film, in all honesty. I really enjoyed it. The buildup was crazy.

I wonder what happened to James and Stacey. They just disappeared. That's creepy. Why were they acting weird? Was it a Skinwalker? Did they, you know, get attacked by something else? I don't know. Very weird. And what do you think? I mean, do you think it was a Skinwalker or a Wendigo or something else of the sorts? Please comment down below your thoughts.

I read every single comment. And also just comment down below, would you like to see longer stories like this in the future? I love reading these stories and I love making these videos for you guys. So please like the video and subscribe to the channel. It supports me and lets me keep you. making them. So thank you so much for watching. I appreciate it so much. And this was Snook and I'll see you next time. Bye.