I grew up within a small village on the edge of a relatively small but still thick and often dark forest under the hand of my late grandfather. For the sake of privacy, I wont share neither his name nor my own. The exact location of where we live also sadly does not matter for reasons that will hopefully be apparent later as I go on.
After my supposed “father” left us behind and my mother died during childbirth, my grandfather took me in and raised me. I’ve known him my entire life because of this and I came to know him as a strict, reclusive but fair man who cares more than he would like to let on to.
At night, he would often call me to the warm fireplace within our livingroom to tell me a new horror story. He did this ever since I was a small child and while, for some, this may Sound questionable, I’m certain that this is where my love and interest for all things creepy originates from.
As a child, his stories would terrify me and haunt my dreams, centering around strange and malicious entities that stalk you from within the darkness around you until it is time for them to make their move and drag you to wherever they came from. My grandfather would often tell me the same collection of stories, but always adding more details as I got older and older. As a child, I sometimes tried to avoid listening to his stories, but he insisted that I would have to hear them. Later, I began to doubt his stories but he insisted that they where true, much to my annoyance. Back then, I did not know how right he truly was.
The story I remember the most vividly is that of an entity called the “Birchwood-Creeper”. For some context on the name, we unofficially refer to our local forest as the “Birchwoods” due to the abundance of beautiful birchtrees that make up most of the forest. The “Birchwood-Creeper” is an ancient local folktale, speaking of an entity residing in our forest.
According to my grandfather, the Birchwood-Creeper is a tall, lanky humanoid creature with leathery skin as pale as chalk draped tightly around long, thin bones. It’s arms and legs are almost as long as an average person can be tall, and it’s fingers end in razorsharp claws. It’s feet end in sharp talons and upon it’s neck sits the featherless head of an owl, complete with soulless, black eyes as dark as the deepest void. It blends in with the sorrounding birchtrees and can move at unseen speed and nearly without just the slightest sound as it stalks it’s chosen prey throughout the months to come before finally dragging them into the deepest parts of the forest.
Admittedly, the details for his story are oddly specific and precise, which is why I first started to doubt my grandfather’s stories when I got older. But he promised he would reveal everything to me once, in his own words, the time was right. I did not know what He meant by that and I doubt i’ll ever learn, as he died three years ago due to a heart-failure while I was away for the weekend. He died and his secrets died with him.
After his death, I stayed in the Village for a few years to follow, beginning to drown my grief from his loss within criminology research, with cases of disappearances especially peeking my interest. And as I learned during my research, there where a lot of known disappearances, both recent and decades ago, within and around Birchwood and my village.
Growing curious, I started to notice that I never actually went into the woods and decided that it would be a fun adventure to just go into the forest and explore. Of course, I wasnt really expecting to encounter or find any missing people or paranormal entities within. Planning to be back by daylight, I only took a small backpack with me, carrying a small knife, a flashlight, some food and some water. I also decided to leave my phone at home, as I wanted to retreat, still griefing, and didnt really want to be disturbed during my trip. And with everything packed up, I ventured into the woods as soon as sun began to set.
I wandered for hours, coming across various areas within the Birchwoods that seemed almost totally undisturbed by humans, almost making me question wether I was the first person to venture to them. The most interesting sight for me thus far, however, was a large boulder with deep scratchmarks within it. At the time, I simply chalked it up to a deer attempting to either sharpen or shorten their antlers.
For most of my time, I was undisturbed. The cries of owls nearby keeping me company as I ventured forward, enjoying the trip more than I honestly thought I would. As I kept walking, I couldnt help myself but joke about how the supposed owls may just be the faint cries of the Birchwood-Creeper my grandfather told me about. And although I almost laughed out loud a few times, these jokes brought valuable memories back to me.
Sadly, all the joy was interrupted when I came across a disemboweled deer that, somehow, was hanging on a taller tree by it’s antlers. I will spare you the gruesome details, but the animal was half-eaten and almost left there as a trophy of some sort. It first, I was horrified, then more confused. There where no animals in these woods that could have done this, and even for a human this would have been hard to position!
Ultimately, I decided to make a report to a local wildlife protection service once I got home, and continued onward for the time being. I was slightly on edge now, confused as I tried to wrap my head around how what I found would be possible. It was almost like a silent jumpscare to me and now that im writing this, im left to wonder why I didnt see it sooner from afar.
Seeing a deer, even if dead, however calmed my nerves when I started to hear fallen branches break and plants move into another around me as I continues my path forward. The deer was the prove that there are animals in this forest, and so where the constant cries of the owls, and that put me at ease when the sorrounding sounds startled me. And suddenly, the noises found an end.
It was silent. There was nothing. No insects chirping in the grass, no branches cracking, not even a squirrel jumping between trees. It was as if everything but me either died in an instant or hid itself as best as possible to avoid such a fate. Then, again, the silence was broken by the cry of an owl. An owl, that sounded though as if it was sitting right next to me! Yet when I looked around, I saw nothing but a thick cluster of trees around me. And, besides the occasional cry of the owl, the silence persisted. I grabbed my knife, even if just for comfort, and continued onward. I do not know why, but continueing deeper into the forst felt both right and wrong at the same time, as if something wanted me to go further and further while something made me feel like as if I should have run home long ago. The cries of the owls persisted, feeling as if following me. I did no longer feel alone. I felt watched, I felt followed. And I was hoping it was just the owl. And to some extend, I was right.
My adventure came to an end as I came across a large, thick tree unlike any other I came across within this forest. It was taller than anything else within these woods, thicker than any birchtree I’ve come across. And for a lack of a better description, it felt wrong. There was something off about this tree, something foul and dark. Something sinister and malicious.
The cries of the owls fell silent, leaving me alone with what I came across. I do not know what compelled me to do so, but I looked at the knife within my hands and began to cut off a tiny piece of bark from the tree. It came off easily, as if rotten away, and smelled terrible. And I learned where the smell came from. Within the tree, somehow, a decomposing human hand was sitting within a tiny hole. The hand appeared loose, yet almost as if this hole was made specifically for it! I turned my gaze away and almost vomited, unable to handle what I just came across as the knife dropped out of my hands. The feeling of being watched grew more intensely as I trembled in shock, before finally gaining my composure. I took a deep breath, the foul smell entering my nostrils, and turned around to once again face what I came across. What I saw was right. A severed and decomposing human hand within the giant, rotting birchtree, somehow beneath it’s bark. Then, the familiar cries of the owls came onto me again, sounding as if sitting right above me on the tree. I looked up, somehow hoping for answers or comfort from the bird. But all I received was shock.
Within the branches of the tree, looking directly at me, the creature my grandfather described to me so often, sat gently nesting above me. It was almost positioned like a spider of sorts, it’s long limbs all grabbing onto a different branch. It’s head moved in all sorts of positions as the creature slowly crawled around the branches above me, approaching me. I was in shock. I couldnt move, couldnt scream. The creature my grandfather told me about, warned me about, was despite my doubts real and it’s black, empty eyes where staring directly at me!
Finally breaking my fear, I started to run deep into the forest and back the way I came from! Looking over my shoulder for just a second, I could see the creature stare at me, then leap off of the rotten tree and land onto the floor several feet away on all fours before jumping up into the other trees, following me from above. I ran as fast as I could, almost tripping over roots and rocks as I kept my eyes forward. I attempted to avoid gazing upwards, scared of seeing the creature jump at me at any moment if I do. But I didnt have to look up just to see it. It was faster than me, far more agile. And it got past me. I almost ran straight into it as I made my way through the birchtrees, the creature’s stature and skin camouflaging it almost perfectly. I quickly turned sideways, narrowly avoiding it’s grasp as I heard it make the familiar cry of an owl once more. The chase had not ended, for neither of us.
I do not know how I made it, but somehow I got out of the forest and back to the village. I dared to turn around one more time as I came into the light of a street lamp, glaring in fear at the edge of the forest I ran out of just mere seconds ago. It was standing there. The Birchwood-Creeper was standing there, almost hidden within the trees and the shadows but barely visible. It stared at me, the dark and empty eyes bleeding shadows darker than the darkness of the night itself. For a second, I thought myself safe underneath the streetlight. Then, I remembered the disappearances and how they werent limited to just the forest itself. I slowly stepped backwards, attempting to catch my breath before running home as fast as I can. The creature slowly stepped out of the darkness shrouding it and I began to run once more.
I made it home, unlocked my door, threw myself in and locked it as fast as I could. I ran around the house, making sure to lock every door and every window on both levels. While doing so, I caught glimpses of the creature through my windows every now and then. Finally, when I was done, I retreated myself into by bedroom on the upper level and, much like I did as a child, hid myself under my blanket. Everything grew silent and, after a while, I decided to take a slow look out of my window. The creature was standing there, looking directly at me. Then, it slowly dissappeared back into the woods. I sighed in relief, thinking I escaped it, but did not dare to sleep the following three days.
I decided to not share this story with any locals as of yet, due to not having any evidence. I dont expect they’ll believe me when I tell them that a local folktale is actually true. So I just sat around, feeling helpless and useless. Occasionally, I would catch glimpses of the Birchwood-Creeper again. I would see it standing at the edge of the forest, observing me. Another time, while getting a few things from my local grocery store, I could see it staring at me within a dark alleyway. One time, I even awoke at the middle of the night to see it hang on my bedroom window, staring through it directly at me!
I would find scratchmarks on the outside if my walls, windows and doors and occasionally hear the familiar cry of what I just assumed to be a regular owl. I plan on moving out of my area as soon as I can afford it, but I do not know how much this will help. I feel that any area that has birchtrees and forests may be within this being’s territory. If there even is just one of them. I do not know how far I actually have to run to be safe, nor do I know if I can ever feel comfort at the howls of an owl ever again. What is worse is that it doesnt just have one victim at any given time. Local news reported last week about a school a few miles away that was enclosed within a thick metal fence. Apparently, someone or something slashed itself through that fence and since then, two children have gone missing.
I am sorry for ever doubting my grandfather and I deeply hope that no one who is reading this has to suffer at the hands of this creature.