Horror

THE previous fall, I embarked on a camping adventure in the forest near my provincial home, nestled close to the Appalachians. This region offered a perfect blend of camping, climbing, and fishing – all essential parts of my life. My journey was spontaneous; I aimed to hike the Four Mile Trail to a camping site and stay there for a few days. I left before dawn, reaching a suitable spot around midday. I pitched my tent, settled in, and set off with my fishing gear to a nearby lake.

As I fished by the lake, I heard an unexpected sound from the forest opposite my camping spot. Startled, I tried to gauge the distance of the sound, but the mountain terrain made it challenging. It seemed close yet distant, an eerie voice filled with frantic urgency. With curiosity and concern, I ventured into the trees, dimming my flashlight. As I got closer, I became increasingly cautious, shivering in the night air. Suddenly, I heard footsteps ahead, and the voice called out again. I raised my flashlight and froze – just a few feet away stood a man, his gaze locked on me.

Fear surged through me, and I turned and sprinted back to my campsite, packed up my belongings, and fled home, my ankle twisting in the process. My body trembled with dread, and the isolation of the woods intensified my unease. I hadn't encountered anyone in my ten years of camping there, making the whole situation even more surreal. I've never returned to that place since that unsettling encounter.

Shifting gears to my apartment life in a small community near a bustling city, my surroundings were calm. My complex comprised eight units, with five occupied. People had moved away over the years, leaving the place feeling somewhat vacant. Though it was far from ideal, I remained due to the high rent prices. A quiet life ensued, until a few months ago.

One night, I returned home from work, followed my routine, and went to sleep. Oddly, I kept waking up to strange noises from the unit above. Soft thuds, random crashes, and occasional footsteps echoed through the night. Curious about my mysterious upstairs neighbor, I ventured into the hallway, only to hear the sounds coming from the main corridor. The steps seemed to be moving away and then going upstairs. Fearful but curious, I listened from my apartment, the unsettling noises intensifying.

The next night, the same eerie sounds woke me up again. This time, they were louder, seemingly coming from the hallway. I ventured out and peered through the peephole, catching a glimpse of a man outside my door. He pounded on it, rattling the handle aggressively. Alarmed, I called the police and waited anxiously, watching as the man spoke to someone down the hall. When the police arrived, they found two men hiding in a nearby unit, admitting to breaking in and using it as a hideout.

Though they confessed to squatting, they refused to reveal what they were doing during those unsettling nights. While they were taken away, I couldn't shake the feeling that something malevolent was afoot. The incident left me traumatized, and I still wonder what dark intentions those men might have had for me.

Transitioning to another chilling experience, my years of working at a convenience store had acquainted me with the odd and eerie. However, nothing prepared me for the events earlier this year. My routine night shift was calm, with sparse traffic in the suburban town. One night, a call came in but was eerily silent. I heard no breathing or background voices, unlike typical prank calls.

Though intrigued, I hung up after a while, assuming it was a prank. However, the unsettling nature of the call continued to intrigue me. Looking out the window, I observed the quiet street until a thud from the door jolted me back to reality. A man walked in, headed to the alcohol section. He seemed to be in his forties, wearing a blue hoodie and a somber expression.

As he wandered between aisles, I occasionally checked on him. However, after a while, he vanished from my sight. Bewildered, I searched for him, but he was nowhere in the store. I even checked the restroom, which was empty. I returned to the counter, perturbed by his sudden disappearance. Hours passed, and cars came and went, but no customers entered.

Suddenly, I heard a noise in front of me. Startled, I saw the same man walking on the counter, moving toward the exit. He walked along the front of the store, disappearing from view. I was paralyzed with fear, and my shift was spent in shock. I informed the owner of the incident, feeling deeply unsettled by the inexplicable events that had unfolded.