Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - A Real Horror Story in the Woods That Haunts, Waiting to Be Remembered #35

Episode Date: July 14, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #woods #realhorror #hauntedwoods #forgottenfear #truehaunting  A terrifying true horror story unfolds deep within the woods, where forgotten horrors linger and wait to be remembered. This chilling tale captures the eerie atmosphere of the forest, a place where fear lives in the shadows and the past refuses to stay buried. Perfect for fans of supernatural and psychological horror alike.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, hauntedwoods, forestterror, realhaunting, supernaturalfear, darksecrets, forgottenstories, eerieencounters, truehorror, ghosttales, nightmareinthewoods, shadowfear, chillingevents, unknownterrortales, fearintheshadows

So, before I ask for your stories, I want to get something off my chest. This one's been rattling around in my head for years, like a loose screw I've never quite had the nerve to tighten. I first stumbled across this story a long while back, one of those old Reddit threads that feel like a whisper instead of a scream. It might have been from our slash Nasleep, but it could just as easily have been buried in some dusty, half-forgotten subreddit where the air feels a little heavier. I don't remember the username. I don't think they ever came back after their fourth update. It was that kind of post. But man, it stuck with me.

Like gum on the bottom of your shoe that you keep scraping at, but it never fully goes away. Not the kind of scary that makes you check under your bed. No, this was worse. It was the type of story that made you feel like your spine was listening to. Like something was watching you read it. I saved it. Still have it. Every once in a while, when I can't sleep or when the world just feels a little too, thin, I pull it back up and read it again. I think it's because it echoes something deep in me. Something that I never talked about. Something I wish I never remembered. But we're not talking about me. Not yet. For now, I'm just going to share what they wrote, in my own words. It started like this. What's the scariest, real thing that's ever happened to you? The girl who wrote it said she couldn't sleep.

She had the dream again, the one with the woods, the thick metallic air, and the feeling that something was breathing right behind her, step for step. She didn't just want to tell her story, she had to. You could feel the urgency. Like if she didn't get it out, it might consume her. She was 25, but the events she described happened when she was 17. She lived somewhere quiet in upstate New York, near the Catskills. The kind of sleepy town where porch swings still squeak and people leave their doors unlocked.

Her name. No clue. She used a throwaway account. Said not even her boyfriend, therapist, or sister knew what happened. That alone was enough to make me sit up. Her little crew back then was just four people, her, a dude named Eli, his cousin Noah, and the girl named June. They were tight. Always out exploring random places,

like they were collecting haunted locations like other kids collected baseball cards. That night? Just a casual bonfire out past Alder Creek. Nothing crazy. Just them, a few drinks, and the ruins of an old cabin Noah swore was a bootleggers hideout back in the Prohibition era.

It sounded kind of badass, actually. They hiked out. to the clearing, flashlights bouncing through the underbrush, gear strapped to their backs. But she said the air was weird. Too warm for October, almost muggy. She said it felt like the forest was sweating. They built their fire beside what was left of the stone cabin. Only the base and a chimney were still standing, moss crawling up the sides like it was trying to drag the whole thing underground. Everything was chill for a bit. Laughing. Ghosts Stories. June was halfway through some corny tale about a phantom hitchhiker when Eli suddenly

got real quiet. He was staring into the woods, past the fire. Do you see that? At first, everyone figured he was just screwing around. But then Noah stood up too, squinting. That's when they all saw it, a bluish light, not quite like a flashlight, more like a candle if it had frost in it. It flickered. moved slowly, 20 feet away, drifting through the trees. None of them brought lanterns. Eli, being Eli, wanted to follow it. And our girl, like a total idiot, her words, not mine, followed him. June refused. Noah hesitated, then caved. They pushed deeper into the trees. And that's when things went sideways. She says her memory gets foggues. She says her memory gets foggues. after that. Not like she forgot, but like the memories didn't want to be remembered. Still,

she recalls this much. The light wasn't floating. It was coming from someone, a tall figure, barely moving, holding it. They were wearing old, stiff clothes, not blowing in the wind. Their face was all wrong, like a broken TV signal. Static where features should be. Then the forest went dead. No bugs. No wind. No sound. Even their footsteps vanished. It was like the whole world hit mute. And then the figure turned. Not like someone spinning. Just suddenly facing them. Instantly. And with that turn, came this pressure. Like her skin didn't fit right. Like her brain was being squeezed by something invisible. Eli whispered one word, run. She turned. But the forest wasn't the same. The trees were warped. Closer together. Twisting in impossible ways. The fire was gone. The smell in the air was coppery and sweet, like rotting pennies. They ran. Noah tripped, tore open his palm on something sharp. His screen was barely audible, like it was being filtered through water. Then they saw the cabin, not the ruins, a whole cabin, windows glowing gold, smoke puffing gently from the chimney, and someone was inside, humming, a woman, soft voice, almost familiar, the door creaked open, and she saw herself, same clothes, same face, but the eyes were piqued open, and she saw herself, same clothes, but the eyes were pitted, pitch black. Like voids. An older version of herself. That version smiled. Eli grabbed her, and they bolted. This time, the forest let them out. Just spat them back onto the service road

like it was tired of them. June was hysterical, said they were only gone ten minutes. But her phone. 3.17 a.m. They went in at 10.42 p.m. Noah bailed to Florida. within the week. Eli ghosted her. Deleted his online presence like he was running from something. She never forgot. She still dreams of the cabin. Of humming. Of a woman in the doorway who wore her face like a mask. Now, here's where it gets worse. A few days later, she posted a part two, said she hadn't planned to. But she got this sudden it she couldn't ignore. She was driving to her her moms near Alder Creek. Past that same barely there service road.

And something inside her pulled. Like her bones remembered something her brain didn't. She told herself to keep going. She even turned up the music to drown out the feeling. But half a mile later, she turned the car around. She didn't even have to think. Her feet found the path. Like muscle memory.

Like she'd never left. Daylike made the woods seem harmless. But as she went deeper, everything changed. The trees got tighter. The air thickened. She started seeing her breath even though it was noon. She just wanted to peek at the ruins. That was it.

But the ruins weren't ruins. The cabin was whole again. Same warm windows. Same lazy smoke. Same wrongness humming through the ground. But this time, the door was shut, waiting. She couldn't stop. Her body moved on its own.

The forest leaned in around her. Sounds twisted. Colors got oversaturated. She felt like she was walking into a memory that wasn't hers. Then she heard the humming. Same song. She reached for the knob. It turned before she touched it.

And there she was. her again. Younger this time. 17. Same outfit from that night. Black eyes. But no smile this time. She stepped aside. And our girl, yeah, she went in. The cabin pulsed. The walls breathed. The candles didn't flicker. They glowed with that same ice-blue forest light. In the center, a table with four items. A cracked flashlight.

A torn piece of red flannel. A rusty gardening trowel. And a phone. Her phone. Buzz. One new voicemail. She pressed play. Static.

Then her voice. You shouldn't have come back. Silence. Then, it's waking up. She turned to leave. No door. Just wall. She screamed, pounded, nothing.

The air rippled. Candles flickered. Something moved behind her. She turned. The girl, her, was in the corner, hugging her knees, humming. She looked up. You weren't supposed to remember yet, she whispered. You came too early.

She asked what that meant. The girl just shook her head. You pulled the thread. Then she handed her a Polaroid. Old. Warped. It showed the four of them in the clearing. Smiling.

But behind them, in the trees, was a fifth figure. Tall. Blurred. Watching. I thought it wanted you, the girl said. But it was me. Then the room groaned. The walls pulsed harder.

Something massive shift. The girl grabbed her hand. You need to wake up, she said. Before it marks you again. And then, everything shattered. Literally. Like a snow globe dropped off a table. Light exploded.

Time folded. She saw that night again. June. Screaming. Noah bleeding. Eli whispering. Run. And then she woke up in the ruins, back where it started, alone, and that's where it ended.

No third update, no follow-up. I check every few months. Still nothing. But the thing is, I know she didn't make that up. You can feel it. That story breathes. And lately, I've started dreaming about that cabin too. i swear i've never been to the catskills but part of me's convinced i left something behind there something that's still waiting still humming still waking up so now that i've shared mine tell me yours the end