Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Real Encounters With Demonic Figures, Smiling Shadows, and Unknown Creatures at Night PART6 #58

Episode Date: September 25, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #demonicencounters #shadowcreatures #unknownentities #nightcreatures #paranormalterror   "Real Encounters With Demonic Figures, Smiling Shadows, and Unknown Creatures at Night – PART 6" concludes this haunting series with the most unsettling and vivid accounts yet. Survivors share their terrifying brushes with sinister demonic presences, smiling shadowy figures, and enigmatic creatures that emerge under the cover of darkness. These true stories reveal the terrifying unknown that lingers just beyond human perception—darkness that refuses to let go.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, paranormalencounters, demonicfigures, shadowbeings, supernaturalphenomena, nightterrorstories, mysteriouscreatures, eerievisages, chillingaccounts, hauntingencounters, darkentities, unexplainedevents, nightmarecreatures, terrorintheshadows, realparanormal

Mark. I called out, thinking maybe he'd wandered around to the back of the house, pulling one of his usual pranks or something. No response. Total silence. So I walked over to the window at the front of the house and pressed my hands to the glass, trying to block out the glare from the lights inside and get a better look outside. Nothing. Just blackness and the reflection of my own worried face staring back at me. A second later, my little brother came thudding down the stairs, wide-eyed. Did you hear something out back just now? He asked, voice hushed but tight with nerves. I held up a finger, signaling him to be quiet, and we both stood still. Then we heard it. Clear as day. Footsteps. Calm. Steady. Moving across the creaky wooden planks of our wraparound porch,

outside the dining room wall. Just footsteps, like someone was just taking a casual walk. There's someone out there, I muttered, trying to sound more pissed off than scared. But yeah, I was scared. Now here's where we should have done the smart thing, locked every door, called the cops, maybe even shouted that we had a gun or whatever. But I was a dumb teenager back then, full of fire and ready to prove something to the world. So instead of being smart, I stormed over to the gun cabinet. We grew up around guns. Learned how to use them safely and respectfully. I knew what I was doing. I grabbed the 9mm we kept in the drawer, loaded it up, and told my brother to lock the front door behind me. Stay inside, I barked at him. And without

giving him a second to argue, I yanked the door open and stepped out onto the porch. The second my brother hit the outside lights, I saw him. Maybe eight feet in front of me, just stepping up onto the porch, sickly thin guy, probably mid-20s, hoodie pulled tight, light blue eyes glowing under the porch light, and this weird little soul patch like he was stuck in the early 2000s. The second our eyes met, he spun around and bolted into the night. And me, being the brilliant idiot I was, took off running a few yards after him. Then I stopped, lifted the gun in the air, and fired off a warning shot. That's right, get the hell out of here.

I shouted. He vanished into the woods, but when I turned back toward the house, I froze. My stomach dropped. My mouth went dry. There were people. Everywhere. At least eight more figures were standing silently around my porch, some on the steps, a couple near the flower bed, and more scattered out in the yard.

Just standing there. Watching. Men, women, all of them looked like they were in their early twenties, wearing dark jackets, hoodies, just kind of blending into the night. Hands in pockets. Faces blank. None of them said a word. I raised the gun without even realizing I'd done it.

My brain wasn't firing properly anymore, it was like I was frozen in this surreal moment. They weren't running. They weren't attacking. They were just watching. Then, like someone had hit a switch, they all turned and started walking away. Some jogged. Others just casually strolled into the woods like it was nothing. Gone.

And I was left there, standing with a loaded gun and no clue what had just happened. I sprinted back to the house and pounded on the door. My brother unlocked it and pulled me inside like I was escaping a war zone. I didn't even know what to say to him. I fired a shot, I finally admitted, breathless. But they didn't flinch. None of them. They just looked at me, and then they were gone.

We called the cops right after. They got there in ten minutes, lights flashing, guns ready. They swept the whole property. Found footprints everywhere. Deep ones, light ones, dozens of them. asked us over and over if we'd had a party or something. No, I kept saying, These people were just, here.

They didn't say anything. They just stared. Then they left. The police didn't seem to take it all that seriously, but they did confiscate the gun since I fired it. I got it back eventually, but they warned me not to shoot into the air unless I felt my life was in danger.

I didn't know what those people were doing. My brother was convinced it was some kind of weird cult. Maybe they were prepping to do a ritual, and we were the sacrifices. I thought maybe it was a home invasion gone wrong. Maybe they were going to break in, but the guns scared them off. But that silence. That weird silence. Not a single word for many of them.

That's what stuck with me. They didn't run like pranksters. They moved like they were trained. Or, programmed. You ever read those stories about UFO encounters, where people get hypnotized by strange lights and lose hours of time? Wake up in weird places with no idea how they got there. I never really believed that stuff. Still don't.

But something about that night messed me up in ways I still don't understand. They never came back. I never saw any of their faces again. Not at the gas station. Not in town. Nowhere. We bought a dog the next week. So fast forward a bit, high school days.

Me, my brother, and our two cousins, Tom and Lily, decide to go on this epic, hike through the woods behind our house. Dumb idea. But back then, it felt like an adventure. We'd all been through those woods a million times as kids, but this time we wanted to go deeper. Like, real deep. Bring food, flashlights, tents, the whole deal. Maybe even camp out overnight if we got far enough. I had a map and a compass, and I was the biggest and oldest at the time, 17.

I carried most of the supplies. Joe, my brother, carried first aid and lights. Tom and Lily split the food, and Lily had this cheap little flare gun with one shot. Just one. We hiked all day. No problems. A little tired, a little muddy, but nothing unusual. Late in the afternoon, we spotted this weird shape poking out from the trees in the distance. Looked like some kind of tower. We figured we'd check it out and maybe camp nearby. Turned out, it was an old fire lookout tower. Rusted, rotting, and tall as hell, maybe 60 or 70 feet high. The staircase spiraled around the outside without much support.

It creaked when the wind blew. We dunked our gear at the bottom and debated whether to climb it. Lily and I were all about it. Joe and Tom, not so much. They were worried the stairs would give out. Lily and I went for it anyway. Dumb move number two. About halfway up, I stepped on a rotten board, and boom, my right leg went straight through.

Pain shot through me like a lightning bolt. I screamed, yanked my leg out, and sat down right there on the stairs, trying not to cry. The others heard me and rushed up. Lily started heading back down to help, even though we yelled for her to stay put. Joe made it to the bottom first. Then he suddenly pointed off into the woods and shouted, hey, you. We all looked. Someone was standing by a tree.

Not moving. Just watching us. Couldn't tell if it was a man or woman, they were tall and thin, hair long and gray like a dusty mop, wearing this nasty, filthy jumpsuit and an ancient jacket that looked like it had been pulled from a dumpster fire. We all just, froze. Stared back. Nobody said anything.

Then the figure started walking, not toward the woods, but toward the base of the tower. Panic mode activated. We scrambled up the stairs as fast as we could, ignoring the groans and creaks. I stopped about two-thirds up, glanced back, and saw her, I think it was a her, rummaging through our bags. She started eating our food. Like, full-on stuffing trail mix into her mouth. I yelled, get the hell away from our stuff.

But she didn't flinch. Just looked up at me and said something. I couldn't understand her. The others were shouting above me, maybe that was why. Or maybe it wasn't English. Her voice was weirdly high-pitched, like a cartoon witch or something. I pulled out my pocket knife and just, waited, expected her to come up after us. But she didn't.

She just sat there, munching our snacks and pocketing whatever she liked. And we just stayed up there, trapped, wondering what the hell we'd gotten ourselves into. To be continued.