The scariest thing about camping by yourself is knowing you are being watched, but you can’t see at what’s watching you.
Being a wildlife photographer, spending hours watching something that doesn’t know its being watched is kind of my specialty. So having been given special permission to camp in a private forest where the illusive albino red-horned deer was spotted, I couldn’t turn down this opportunity to get a perfect photo of it. This would put me on the cover of national geographic! It was gonna be an ideal week; I loaded up my off-roader with my camping and photography gear and set out where I would spend the next few days. It was 500 acres of pure, dense forest. When I got to the property’s perimeter, it was nothing more than a long wood and wire fence stretching for miles with an opening just barely big enough for my car to pass.
It must have taken ages to put this thing up. After about an hour of driving slowly over vines and fallen branches through pure thick forestry on this sketchy dirt path, I finally arrived at what I thought to be the perfect place to set up my tent. It had an ideal view of the river far down the hill and was near a clearing in the trees. Looking back, I’m glad I arrived here this early in the day. Seeing the path I came from, it was just a rough flattened mossy trial. If I came here during the night there’s no way I could navigate that path.
I decided to set my tent up on these three trees I saw were the closest together. It was one of those hammock tents I had to set up high in the trees. I tied it up around fifteen feet off the ground to keep me clear of any animals that might pop up in the area and also give me the perfect vantage point. Couldn’t be too safe.
I loved this place already. Having my tent set up, I thought it’d be a good idea to bring out my deer calling speaker. It was a special long-range Bluetooth speaker that I always carried with me, and I was going to use it to see if I could lure the red-horned deer in for the perfect shot. I went down the steep hill, carefully making my way to a nice open area where I hung up the speaker from the low branch of a tree. I ensured it was in perfect view of my hammock tent as I would be huddled up there with my camera ready.
I climbed up to my tent to check the view. It was perfect, just open enough for the camera to hopefully capture it. The vistas were beautiful, I could see the forest stretch for miles from up here, with incredible mountains and their snowy tops in the near distance with one mountain standing out among the rest with its sharp black peak. I knew they would make the perfect backdrop to my photographs.
I spent the next 3 hours just photographing local birds as they perched on the tip of the trees as the speaker connection stabilized. As soon as I saw the speaker was online, I played a deer call to test the sound. Within a second, the speaker went off, the mimicry of the call was indistinguishable from a real deer. After it was all set up, I started to get hungry, so I thought id be a good time to get a campfire lit and get some food cooking.
I went a few steps down the hill to grab some sticks off this fallen tree to for some firewood. when I suddenly heard the echoes of heavy pounding steps a bit off in the distance. I freeze in place, quickly scanning through the tree lines trying to locate whatever was making that noise. I zero in on the sound and see a silhouette run through the trees. I try not to panic as I crouch down so as to not stick out. This is a forest, after all, and even though I was wearing my new camo suit, I still didn’t want to risk being seen.
I hear what sounds like galloping through the tall trees. The massive trees combined with the sun setting made it hard to focus my eyes on the back-and-forth running of the silhouette. It wasn’t until it stopped, dead in the middle of the alley between the trees, that I saw clearly what it was—a deer. It was just a normal deer, so no national geographic feature yet. I let out a small sigh of relief, calming down all my quickly forming thoughts; cowering over the idea that it was some bear running around the forest. Thinking back, its probable that it heard my test call, and was lead here when it picked up the sound. I took comfort in knowing that at least the speaker worked.
The deer stayed utterly still, and as I lifted my head above the fallen tree, I met eyes with it. It faced my direction and looked directly at me, still without making a sound. For a good minute it stayed completely still only occasionally rotating its ears. As I waited there seeing what its next move would be, I took notice of the lack of noise in this forest. I expected there to be more distant sounds of animals and birds, as the landowner had told me this was a very well inhabited forest. but yet the lasting silence that range through my ears had put my conscience in a state of worry. As the deer continued to face me with its unbroken stare, it acted as if it was scared. Like if it was frozen in fear of predator lurking.
I picked up my sticks off the ground and silently climbed back up the hill to make sure it didn’t follow. Halfway up the hill, I hear the deer gallop away. Its clops nearly disappearing in the distance before I heard a quick shriek. The galloping stopped. I paused and turned around, confused, wondering if that was the deer that made that noise. I know what a deer’s call sounds like, but that wasn’t it. it was a violent shriek that was cut off abruptly. standing there pondering on what could have happened to it. I didn’t want stick around, nor did I investigate on its whereabouts, since it was getting dark, and I didn’t want to get lost in these woods at night.
Right as the sun set, I had the idea to set up some tripwire alarms around my camp site. Call me paranoid, but being this deep into the woods, I didn’t want to risk any uninvited animals sneaking into camp. Especially after hearing that deer’s distant yell. I tied some leftover fishing wire around a few of the trees and hung a few empty soda cans to the wires.
After securing the area, I ate some of the food I had prepared and decided to chill in my new hammock tent. I was so excited to hang around up high and look at some stars and stuff. I relaxed up there for a few hours listening to music on my headphones. I rarely like to listen to music when I’m camping out alone so as to stay alert incase anything happens. That and I enjoy falling asleep to the night calls of the critters chirping away and the hoot of the owls sounding of in the trees. But tonight couldn’t have been farther from the usual serenity of my previous camping trips. the encompassing silence of this forest was continuing to put me in a state of unease. The quite combined with the pitch black darkness of the trees had me feeling as if stuck in a sort of void that made the ears ring.
After a while of listening to classical music I decided to hit the hay. The hammock was quite comfortable, but I still struggled to get in a position to sleep. I play some ambient music play on a low volume so I could clear my head enough to fall asleep. As I tossed around, trying to get in the ideal pose to fall asleep, I failed to realize that I still had my car keys in my pockets. So, some time in the middle of the night, I turned over and accidentally pressed against the panic alarm button. The loud horns of my alarm scared me awake. In my sleepy daze, I looked around below, moving my head from side to side, trying to locate the noise.
The yellow lights of my car lit up the forest on and off as the alarm rang. As soon as I realized I must have mistakenly pressed the button on my keys, I shuffled around in my sleeping bag till I pulled the keys out and shut off the alarm. Jesus, I nearly gave myself a heart attack. I take out a flashlight and shine it through the netting in my tent. I shine directly onto the rattle can traps I set up, ensuring they are all still up. I could see 4 of the 5 of them directly from up here, but this giant tree obstructed the last one. I’m sure it was still up though. I lit up the area around my tent to make sure nothing had crept its way in here, and after a quick search, I tried to calm my nerves. However, I wouldn’t fall back asleep until an hour later. My paranoia was getting to me, regardless of how I assured myself everything was okay.
When I woke up, I saw that the sun had already been up for a while. Usually, I wake up early, but I guess I was so tired I overslept a bit into the afternoon. Getting down from my hammock, I sat down to eat some breakfast on a nearby log. Just some eggs and soup from a can, nothing too fancy. I hung around camp for a while, just taking all my surrounding. the morning dew was still hovering around as a mist just over the ground, filling me with a sense of tranquility. when I got the sudden urge to check on my rattle cans. I remembered last night how I couldn’t see one of them, and even though I assured myself it was alright, I couldn’t get rid of my suspicion completely until I checked it.
Carefully walking around this big rock, I saw that the string I tied to the tree was broken. I tried not to freak out. I thought to myself that maybe I didn’t tie it hard enough or that perhaps some animal did come in, and I didn’t hear it because I was so tired. I set the rattle trap up again. I made sure to tie it extra hard this time. Upon taking a closer look, I saw what could be a vague indent on the moss and grass below the trap. I scanned the path I had come from and saw there were more indents. They looked like tracks. I knew they couldn’t have been mine since I didn’t go this way. I followed the path of tracks all the way up to my campsite.
They were tight, not even a foot apart, but the indents on the mossy dirt that covered the ground were bigger than your average deer. The tracks lead behind my car and then quickly turn in direction, walking around my camp and leading directly under my tent. I was frozen in shock, looking at the last track. The ones before were light, but the two under my tent were deeply imprinted. They looked like clear humanlike footprints. The depth of the prints could only mean whatever was standing there stayed there for a long time. The thought that something could have been standing right below my tent as I slept sent piercing shivers running throughout my body.
I didn’t know what to make of it. Was there someone else wandering this forest? I knew I had to be the only one here, as its private land surrounded by a wire fence. its not like someone could just wander in here lost. any rational person would follow the fence all the way to the main entrance and follow the road. Armed with my bear spray and backup camera in hand I decide to walk around for a bit making sure not to stride too far from my camp. I pace myself very slowly so as to not alert any wildlife that may be in the area.
Upon coming up to a slight clearing in the trees and I’m hit with a gut-wrenching stench of death. Peeking over the low lying bush I’m met with the carcass of a deer. Part of me was wondering if it was the same deer that I heard yell yesterday. I brought my arm up to my face to cover my nose. Upon closer inspection, I could tell this wasn’t some type of kill of a hungry predator. There were no signs of any of the meat being eaten. Whatever killed this deer just shredded it apart and left its carcass to rot. even its eyes were pulled clean from its sockets. I’ve seen a few predator leftovers in my life; it isn’t out of the ordinary, that’s just how nature is. but… this wasn’t natural.
As I stood there, the hairs on my neck stood as I got the feeling that I was being watched. I turned my head slowly, scanning the area. then I turn my head looking behind me and flinch upon seeing a pair of eyes hung by they’re cartilage on a branch looking directly at me. At least that solves the mystery about where this deer’s eyes ended up. I couldn’t fathom what could have done such a thing. I was getting this weird feeling that this whole scene was too uncanny to ignore as just a natural wildlife occurrence.
I wanted to enjoy this camping trip but had the overwhelming sensation that something wasn’t right. I had a lot of supplies in my car since I planned to stay here for a few more days, but I couldn’t shake this feeling. So I just followed my gut and decided to cut the trip short. Sunset was almost 2 hours away, and I didn’t want to get caught driving through that sketchy trail at night. Even though I had already made my mind up to leave as early in the morning as I could, I still couldn’t help but hope I could take a picture of the red-horned deer before I left.
I climbed up on my tent and started playing deer calls every twenty minutes, hoping it would come around. I’d keep the calls repeating until the speaker ran out of battery if I had to. I was transfixed on finding it. thinking it could show up at any minute.
After about an hour of being glued to my camera, my optimism was slowly fading. I was counting down the time to sunset. every minute that passed was a stripping away the golden lighting. as the trees shadows began to stretch out and darken I began to get antsy. To have come all this way for nothing after being given such a perfect opportunity. I didn’t want to waste it sleeping through the night waiting for the morning. So in my impatient determination, I let the deer calls play on a loop as I quickly make my way down the rope ladder of my tent to grab a few energy drinks left in my car.
I hastily swung open the door, rummaging through the backseat cooler to get the two cans I had left. When at that moment, I hear a bloodcurdling shriek echo through my ears. I quickly leave the car and make my way up the ladder, knowing that the shrieking sounded nearby. I settle into my tent, swinging the camera around, looking to see where the noise came from.
The sun was just over the tree line at the time. Aiming the camera towards the clearing where my speaker was facing, I was utterly horrified. I finally caught the albino red horn. Or at least what I could imagine was once one. It was a scene straight out of a horror movie—scattered body parts and organs stringed from the branches. The head was ripped clean off and placed on the fallen tree, facing directly at the camera. I was frozen in fear of what I had just caught, not just of the aftermath but of what lay before the carcass.
It was the shape of a being standing amid the bloody grounds; its humanoid body was charred black as if it was made of coal. long arms drenched up to the elbows with blood. I zoomed in closer to inspect it, noticing it had six holes running down its back, three on each side of the spine, with bones sticking out from the holes. As if something were ripped from it. but the wounds didn’t bleed. In my curious trance, I forgot that I had the deer calls playing in a loop. one call went off, and the being quickly jerked its body in the direction of the speaker. Its body shook as if it was freezing. Its limbs jittered and jerked around.
I quickly took my phone out to disconnect the speaker to stop the calls from playing, mistakenly making the deer call sound off on my phone. Just as soon as it sounded off, I switched my phone to silent. I quickly brought my eye to the camera and saw that whatever was standing there had disappeared. I instinctively looked all over my camp, thinking that whatever that thing was had come up here if it heard my phone go off. But I guess I had turned it off quickly enough that it didn’t hear it.
I was so scared I didn’t even want to go down from my tent. The sun had already set, and I didn’t light the campfire. The ground was so dark that I couldn’t see the floor beneath my tent. I stayed up in my tent for a few hours, unmoving, looking through my camera gallery and zooming in on the pictures of the figure. The more I inspected it, the faster my heart beat. Knowing it could be anywhere in this forest. I couldn’t wait any longer; I wanted to get the hell out of here. But I was scared that if I went down the tent, whatever killed that dear was hiding somewhere waiting for me to come down.
As I laid there, I felt the hairs on my neck stand on their ends. I looked through the netting that faced directly below my tent but couldn’t see anything. Yet I could hear the faint sound of breathing. I looked everywhere for my flashlight, but I must have left it down there. I come up with the idea to use my camera flash to shine a light at the ground. I dismount my camera and aim it down, taking a picture, causing the flash to go off. As my eyes met with the screen, I froze. In the darkness engulfing the ground below was a pale white face that turned black at the neck, looking directly up at my tent.
I almost screamed in terror, if not for my quick reactions, blocking my mouth with my hands. I laid there, thinking it had seen me, but I didn’t hear it make any moves. It just stood there, terrorizing me with its forced breathing and wheezing. A million thoughts ran through my head. I was thinking of a way to get out of this alive.
I knew that I had to do something. But what could I do that didn’t result in me ending up like that deer? After I had laid here for almost half an hour hearing this thing breathing intensely, I had calmed down enough to formulate a plan to get out. All I needed to do was get to the car. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness by the time I decided to act, I looked down and could see my car within a few feet away from the ladder, and to my luck, I had left the door open when I climbed up here. But also, I could see this thing looking up at me when the silence was suddenly broken.
It spoke.
“Do not be afraid,”
it whispered in a deep muffled voice, as if his mouth was covered by a pair of hands. yet I could hear its words clearly.
My eyes widened, and I shed a tear from the fear running through my veins. My hands were shaking from its words. It didn’t say anything else. Were it not for the adrenaline rushing through me, I could have thought I just imagined it spoke. I bring out my phone, closing one eye before turning it on so I could keep one eye adjusted to the dark. I frantically search through my devices and connect my speaker. As soon as I saw the message saying it had connected successfully, I played a deer call. In a split second, this thing jerked its stiff limbs down the hill, tripping one of my rattle-can traps.
I heard the rattling sound all the way down the hill. This was my one shot. Without skipping a beat, I slid down the rope ladder as the next deer call played and ran straight for my car. Even though it was less than ten feet away, it felt so far; in my mad dash, thinking that the thing was distracted by the deer call, I heard the sporadic rattling of the cans make its way up the hill faster than it had descended. It felt like the rattling was right behind me. Quickly sliding around my door and leaping into my car, I slam the door shut, ducking and slamming on the locks. I made it. I didn’t start the car yet, fearing I would alert it to me. So I switch on the lights preparing for this thing to be right in front of my car.
But no, there was nothing In front. I let out a silent, deep exhale through my nose as I gripped the steering wheel. Then suddenly, I see a mist of condensation fog up my window in my peripheral vision. I shakily rotate my head to the window, and I’m met face to face with it.
It had its pale face right up to my window. I was in a frozen trance, looking deep into its eyes. Seeing it up close, I could see make out its features much clearer. its face was even more horrifying than I initially thought. its pale skin was ripped to its muscles below the nose. As if it clawed away at is own face where it’s mouth would be, since it didn’t have one. where its mouth would be was just overlapping muscles and tendons, like if it was surgically closed. I was unable to look away from my window. And neither could it. It was about an inch away from the glass, liked if it was trying to see past my tinted window. but upon closely looking into its eyes I saw that it had none. Just empty fleshy sockets where eyes once were. It couldn’t see me; it was waiting to see if it heard me move. It stayed completely still, just breathing on my window. If it didn’t know I was here because it was blind, I could maybe lure it away again.
“Do not be afraid.”
It whispered again; This time I could see clearly where the sound of its voice had come. the muffled words came from the hole where its nose would be. I clicked the deer call again and heard the speaker play once more. This time it didn’t immediately throw itself at the sound. It rotated its head towards the deer call for a second looking in the direction of call, before looking back at my window and tilting it’s head slightly. It stood there; It knew. The deer calls didn’t work. I was screwed. I sat there motionless, unable to think of anything else to do to get it’s attention away for me to start the car. If I made even the slightest movement, I feared it would break through my window and kill me.
Then, just as I thought my luck had run out, I heard a voice in the distance.
“battery low”
Immediately it jerked its head in a snapping motion and ran for the base of the hill. The rattling of the cans echoed through the trees. Without missing a beat, I jabbed the keys in the ignition and kicked it in gear, kicking dirt up as I ran over my campsite and sped through the dark trail. I didn’t care if the car fell apart as I broke through low branches and skipping over rocks; my foot was stuck at full throttle as the car jumped and hopped all over the place. I looked in my rearview and saw it running towards my car, jerking, and jittering, getting closer and closer. Upon reaching a clearing in the trees, I ram my car right over a fallen log, sending me up into the air, right over the perimeter.
My car landed on its wheels but swerved sideways and stalled. I quickly tried to start it again. Glancing at the tree line beyond the perimeter being lit up by my roof lights. I saw it there, hiding deep within the darkness. Had it not been for its pale face standing out in the shadows, I would have thought I had lost it. The car starts again, and I make a mad dash back onto a main road, periodically checking my rearview mirror to make sure it wasn’t following.
To this day, after two years I still don’t know what I saw. Shortly after that incident I quit photographing wildlife. I hung up my hopes of being featured on National Geographic for good. I didn’t feel safe camping anymore. I even moved out from my home in the rural south into an apartment in the city all the way in the 8th floor. Because every night I would look out the window into the trees, and could swear Its face was hidden in the night shadows somewhere, looking at me. I never even went back to get my camera, nor any of my gear. So if by some chance you stumble upon my camp site, if you can see the tent, it can see you.