First part in series: National Parks, and nature in general, Can Be Scary
So Lora was my first real paranormal experience at the house, but I did have some questionable things happen to me before I moved in, and I think sharing those might be important. Especially if someone else out there could be going through similar experiences.
As I’ve made clear throughout my first post, the woods in national parks are spooky. I’ve been to many throughout the last couple of years, and they always give off strange vibes. I always assumed that it was me just being weary of being alone in nature, but now I’m not so sure.
This next story I’m going to tell takes place before I met Rick and before I moved into that house. I was new to the park, I mean brand new. I had never heard of it online or seen it on a map. But it seemed like a beautiful place so I figured I’d do some adventuring. Sorry for not giving the name, but honestly I’d rather none of you adventure it until I figure out what’s going on here.
So after stopping briefly at the front office to pay my way in, I headed out.
I ended up finding a trail called Flora Hollow that was 24 miles long , so my plan was to hike about halfway, set up camp for the night, and finish the rest of the hike tomorrow. After about a mile in, I started to notice something was off. There was very little light being let in through the trees. I mean, next to zero. I could maybe see 3 feet in front of me, if that, and the further I walked, the darker it got. It struck me as odd because it was 1 in the afternoon, and when I had checked the forecast less than 20 minutes ago, there was no chance of rain. So really, there was no reason for it to be dark.
But, against my better judgment, I pushed forward, wanting to stick to my plan of hiking 12 miles and setting up camp. Now I know how frustrating it is to watch someone in a movie press forward when there’s obviously a problem, but believe me, when you’re actually in one of those situations, the evidence isn’t always so obvious. As soon as I realized it was way darker than it should have been for that time of day, I should have turned around. Whether it was because of a sudden change of weather, or some strange supernatural phenomenon, I should have known to just get out of there.
But I didn’t, and I’m sure that’s obvious since there’s so much left to the story.
At 2 miles in, I stopped to put on my head lamp. My visibility was still about 3 feet in every direction, but this was the point where I started to get a little on edge. Being in the dark itself isn’t inherently creepy, but the thought of something else being in the dark with you, is. It felt like as I walked on there were millions of little eyes peering out from the darkness to watch me go.
Around 3.5 miles into my hike, I stopped again to quickly slip on a hoodie. Maybe it was all in my head, but it was suddenly frigidly cold, for no reason. Nothing else had changed, not the elevation or the amount of light coming in through the trees. And it’s not like it was getting super late, it was 2:30 at best, and for an average July day, there’s no reason for it to be sweatshirt weather.
Now I’m not usually the paranoid type, but at that point the feeling of being watched was so strong it was putting my stomach in knots. I continued to tell myself that it was probably just because it was dark, or maybe because I was in a new park on a trail I’d never seen in regular daylight. But something in the back of my head kept telling me something was off about the Flora Hollow trail.
So you may be wondering, what was my solution to combating this paranoid feeling? I simply put up the hood on my sweatshirt and drew the strings so it was sealed just around my face and the light strapped to my forehead.
And then, I pressed on.
Nothing really notable for the next 8.5 miles. I got more uncomfortable the farther I went, and I thought I heard sticks crunching in the woods around me, but I chalked it up to my imagination.
Finally, I reached my halfway point. I started setting up my camp. Nothing too fancy, just hanging a tarp angled from a tree to make a little half shelter. I laid out my sleeping bag and made a circle of rocks to prepare a fire.
One thing about lighting fires is that you need some sort of fuel. I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t carry wood in my bag while I’m hiking. So, once I finished laying out my home for the night, I grabbed my hatchet and trekked off into the woods. I planned on staying close, heading north away from where I set up camp. Because of the darkness that surrounded me, I couldn’t really pick out things around me to use as markers, so I decided to count my steps instead, hoping to keep myself on track.
One.
Five.
Ten.
Sixteen.
Twenty three.
Thirty.
At thirty paces from my campsite, I stopped. Looking around I saw a triangular shaped piece of bark, so I laid it on the ground with the sort of pointed end facing back the direction I came. I loaded up my arm with all of the sticks I could find in about a 6 foot radius of the bark arrow, and then turned around and headed back the way the bark was pointing.
One.
Seven.
Thirteen.
Nineteen.
Twenty six.
Thirty.
My campsite was nowhere to be seen. My pack was gone, so was my tarp, so was my sleeping bag, not even the circle of rocks for a fire remained. I swore it was my camp, the trees looked the way they did when I left, some branches were angled down, and they had been the ones holding up my tarp.
Maybe there was a chance I somehow went the wrong way, so I turned 180 degrees and began walking back to my wood collection spot.
Two.
Eight.
Fifteen.
Twenty one.
Twenty eight.
Thirty.
Lying on the spot where my makeshift bark arrow once was, was my pack.
Pardon my French, but there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I had put it there. When I left my campsite, the only thing I had was my hatchet and my headlamp. I wanted all of my focus to be on collecting wood, not adjusting a bag that would just weigh me down.
So I picked it up and put it on.
Still no sight of the rest of my things, and now I had no idea where to go. The map of the trail that was in my pocket wouldn’t even help, since I couldn’t really figure out where I needed to go if I didn’t know where I was. I knew the thirty steps behind me wasn’t the right direction, so I set one of my sticks down pointing that direction, and set off straight ahead.
Three.
Eleven.
Eighteen.
Twenty four.
Thirty.
Nothing here caught my eye. This couldn’t have been the campsite, for one obvious reason being there was no tarp or rock fire pit, but also because the tree branches started much higher off the ground. I didn’t climb up a tree to string up my tarp, and these branches were far out of arm’s reach.
So I walked back.
One.
Ten.
Sixteen.
Twenty six.
Thirty.
Low and behold, lying on the ground where my pack once was, was my tarp, neatly rolled up and secured with the cord I had used to hang it back at my campsite, wherever that was.
Now I was starting to get pissed. Who followed me on a 12 mile hike to just screw with me when I set up camp? And how did they have time to do all of this? Walking thirty steps, looking around, and walking back took maybe 2 minutes, and that’s being generous. And how had I not heard them? It was near dead silent, the only sound reaching my ears were my own footsteps. I should have heard someone galivanting around.
At this point I was insistent on finding my campsite. Unless whoever was screwing with me had also picked up the rocks, I would have been able to identify the place by the rock circle.
So I turned to my left, and marched forward.
Three.
Nine.
Twenty.
Twenty three.
Thirty.
A fruitless venture in my quest to find my place. The area around me was bare, no trees in the space illuminated by my headlamp. Plus, the ground beneath my feet was dried mud, hard and cracked. My campsite was grassy, a little stray rock here and there, but certainly not mud.
So, I turned around and walked back, once again. I felt like a kid who had done something wrong, and was now on the way to the principal’s office. I didn’t know what fate awaited me, and I knew I probably wouldn’t like it.
Four.
Twelve.
Twenty.
Twenty five.
Thirty.
Only one direction left to look, and that was obviously the one that this trickster wanted me to go. On the ground in front of me where my tarp once was, laid my fire pit rocks. Instead of being in a crude circle shape, they were arranged into an arrow, pointing the only direction I had yet to check, straight ahead of me.
I now had all of my possessions, so it’s not like I’d find anything else when I got there, but if I didn’t find my camp, I couldn’t find the trail. I had set up camp right along the left side of the trail, and I had yet to see it. It wasn’t clearly marked, but a gravely (however overgrown with plants) path would still stand out against the terrain of an unwalked forest floor.
At this point I was more livid than I was scared. I mean, why would I need to be scared of what I presumed to be a person, and all they were doing was fucking with me. It’s not like they were hurting me. And if they wanted to, they could have by now. However, this did warrant me to be absolutely furious. Who does shit like this? What’s the point? Obviously it’s not someone I know, so what would anyone get out of this? Hiking 12 miles just to get me all lost and directionally confused in the middle of nowhere, that sounds like a total waste of time to me.
So once again, doing as I had done before, I stepped off, walking straight ahead. The last way to go. In a childlike fashion, I stomped my feet with a bit of force when I walked. Let ‘em know I’m coming. I’m not a violent person, but I did still have my hatchet, and I would never swing at anyone but I sure as hell would do some intimidating with it. I dropped what was left of the sticks in my arms, no point in carrying them since I wasn’t even sure what I was gonna do next.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.
Eleven.
Twelve.
Thirteen.
Fourteen.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
Eighteen.
Nineteen.
Twenty.
Twenty one.
Twenty two.
Twenty three.
Twenty four.
Twenty five.
Twenty six.
Twenty seven.
Twenty eight.
Twenty nine.
Thirty.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my thirty paces complete.
Remember how I said my headlamp illuminated roughly 3 feet in front of me? Well that must have been a detail that my tormentor noticed because exactly 3 feet in front of me was a tree.
Dead, for sure. It looked rotten. It was peeling, discolored, limbs just barely hanging on, and any cover it once had was long gone. Funny how that description matches not only the tree, but the body that was hanging from it.
I was sick. What had I just stumbled upon? Obviously the poor bloke on the tree wasn’t the one messing with me, since it was so far decayed that I could just barely tell it was a man, so did that mean the killer was still out here? Waiting to make me its next victim? It would make sense, I mean maybe they get off on the confusion. Watching me wander around the woods for them could have been like a scientist watching a rat in a maze. Not for study, however, for personal satisfaction.
They say curiosity killed the cat, and I guess that’s true. I heard a crunch behind me, the first sound I’d heard in a long time that wasn’t the product of my own footfall. I spun around, ready to do whatever it took to keep myself safe, and more importantly, get the hell off of the Flora Hollow trail.
What I saw is not what you’d expect.
Behind me was a mirror. One of those older ones that’s on a stand and it’s adjustable. A full body mirror, with a long crack down the length.
In it I saw my reflection, just a scared girl with her hood up and a hatchet in her hand. Behind me in the reflection, slowly emerging from the shadows and into the dim light, was a figure. Tall, but not too tall, maybe 6’2, and very long limbs. Like drag your knuckles on the floor long. Its face was all mouth, with big sharp teeth encircling the vast hole that led to its throat. A long black tongue spilled out and over the teeth, wriggling around by the base of its neck.
In all honesty, I’d rather be face to face with the man in the tree instead of seeing this thing behind me in the reflection.
Even without eyes, it felt like this creature was looking right at me. Sizing me up, reading my thoughts, analyzing my every detail.
The creature raised up its left arm, and coiled up in its slender fingers was my headlamp. My headlamp, which until right now as far as I knew, had been strapped to my head. It had to be mine, because the light that used to cast shadows around me from my head was now casting me into shadows from that thing’s hand.
It’s face, or mouth I guess, shifted, almost lifting into a smile, or whatever a smile could look like on a face that was all mouth, and a mouth that was a full circle. Spit dripped off of its tongue and teeth, running down its disgustingly pale body. Its tongue continued swirling around its neck, moving almost like a snake.
And then, it screamed. The most grotesque sound I’ve ever heard, ripping at my eardrums, filling the empty silence of the woods that I so desperately wished would return.
In those few minutes it screamed, the whine filling my ears, eventually deafening me, I wished I was dead. It would be so much better than whatever this was.
Ringing took the place of silence in my ears after a few minutes, but in all honesty, I don’t know if it even mattered. That thing may have stopped screaming, but it still stood directly in front of me, and I had no idea what to do.
I mean really, what do you do in a situation like this? As much as I wanted to, I knew that running would make things ten times worse. If I ran, I would stray even farther away from the trail that I still had hope to find. If I got lost in those woods, chances are I would have never been found.
Do you recall earlier when I said I would never swing my hatchet at someone, just intimidate with it? Well, that was a lie.
Out of desperation, I swung my arm up and then down sharply on to this creature’s grotesque arm. It wasn’t a clean slice, but it broke a good halfway through its thin arm, and that was enough.
The creature began its deafening howl again as it pulled its mangled arm away from me, my hatchet still sticking out of its skin. To my surprise, it kept moving away from me, backing up past the strung up man so it stood just barely in my line of sight.
Was this really it? Was that all it took to get this thing away from me?
It continued with its deafening howl until once again my ears began to ring. I could feel little trickles of blood running down my earlobe.
The ghastly creature, still screaming in pain backed further and further away, eventually just turning to run off into the darkness.
Without my headlamp, I was left standing in the pitch black, no hatchet to protect myself. Staying near the trail to be damned, I started running in the opposite direction of where the creature went, running towards where I thought the trail would be.
I ran. And ran. Praying that the sun would come up eventually and that I wouldn’t just be stuck wandering around this terrifying forest, another life lost to its unholy destruction. For what felt like days I ran, until finally the sun broke through the treetops and I found myself back at the trailhead.
Standing there, fighting for breath, I heard a voice off to my left.
“Quite an early start on the trail, aye?” I whipped my head around and saw a park ranger standing a few yards away. He stared at me, no doubt taking note of my disheveled appearance. “I’m no professional, but that trail’s a tad longer than some of the others here at (redacted park name), make sure you’ve got a headlamp for when the sun goes down. The one you’ve got there looks a wee bit broken!” He chuckled a bit, then turned away to answer his phone that had begun to ring.
Respectfully, what in the fuck was he talking about? The last time I had seen my headlamp was in the palm of that creature’s hand. But yet, when I reached up to my forehead, my headlamp was right there. The plastic covering the light was shattered, and the elements inside were definitely destroyed.
I wanted to vomit or scream, or both. How did I have the lamp? I had run damn near 12 miles in the dark, if not more, for the simple fact that my light was stolen from me. How had I not felt it strapped to my head until now?
Part of me thought that maybe this was all a bad dream, that I had somehow sleepwalked and dreamt the monster, which caused me to wake in a panic and bolt for it. But somehow, deep down I knew that wasn’t true. What had happened on that trail had to be real.
I started to walk away from the trail, walking past the park ranger who seemed to be finishing up his phone call. After I passed him, I heard the clack of a flip phone being closed.
“Hey, where are you going?” the ranger said to me.
I spun around, pulling my mouth into the friendliest smile I could muster. “Well you had a point, I definitely need to get a better source of light. Luckily I have some spares in my car.” I flashed my smile again, trying to hide the fact that I was scared shitless and confused.
He strode towards me, pulling something out of his pocket. “It happens to be your lucky day, lass.” He produced a seemingly new headlamp, holding it in the palm of his outstretched hand. “I’d hate for you to have to start your hike late, you can take mine for a spin and drop it at the front office when you’re done.”
As I looked at his hand, I was transported back to the forest. Darkness fell in around me, and I looked up to see the creature standing their, its grotesque tongue writhing across its face. Its hand was holding the lamp which illuminated its “face”.
I blinked hard, needing for this to just be my imagination. The weight of exhaustion in my body screamed at me, and I knew this time I wouldn’t be able to run.
When I opened my eyes I was back with the ranger. Worried too much time had passed, I quickly reached out and took the lamp.
I smiled again, thanked him for the lamp and promised to return it to the front office when I was finished. He then took off in the opposite direction, exclaiming something about a family picnic going awry at the beach because of a seagull problem.
As soon as he was out of sight, I turned around and made for the parking lot, a short distance from the trailhead.
When I reached my car I wasted no time tossing my pack in the back seat and sitting behind the wheel. I locked the doors, checking that they were locked several times before I tried to relax. I know there were a million things I should have done, like looked up the trail online, asked the front office if anything strange had happened to other hikers on the trail, or the best thing which would have been just outright leaving the park and never coming back.
But all I could manage to do was recline my seat and sleep.
When I came to, it was around noon, and hazy memories of the night before drifted to my thoughts.
…………
Thank you all for being so patient with me and waiting for this upload. I know my promise to make it fast was not fulfilled, but this time part three will come a lot more urgently. A lot has happened since my last upload, and I look forward to telling you all about it. This park has proved itself to be more dangerous than I originally thought, and I fear that I may never leave with my life. I hope that all of you here on r/nosleep will continue to offer me wisdom, God knows I’m gonna need it.