The summer sun blazed relentlessly as I ascended the creaking stairs of the fire watchtower. My name is Damian, and for the last year I’ve been a park ranger. This was going to be my first summer as a fire look out and I couldn’t wait to start this season.
As I reached the top of the tower, I greeted my trusty companion, an old radio crackling with static, my lifeline to the outside world. “Morning, friend,” I muttered, adjusting the headphones. “This is watchtower number 11 signing in,” I said into the radio energetic to start my season. “Copy that tower 11,” came back the tired old voice of Chief Parker.
As the long and hot summer days progressed , and the routine of scanning the horizon for signs of smoke became second nature. But as the sun dipped below the horizon each evening, an unsettling feeling crept over me, a sensation of being watched by unseen eyes. It was strange but I didn’t pay it any attention.
One evening, as dusk settled over the forest like a shroud, I heard a rustling outside the tower. “Hello?” I called out, my voice echoing in the silence. There was no response, only the sound of leaves whispering in the wind.
The next morning, I reported the incident to Chief Parker who has seen more than his fair share of strange occurrences. “Probably just some curious campers,” he said the radio cracking with static, but his voice had betraying a hint of concern. “Keep an eye out, but don’t let it distract you from your duties.” I gave him a confirmation and tried to get back to my daily routine.
Despite his reassurances, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something sinister lurked in the shadows of the forest. My girlfriend, Sarah, sensed my unease during her weekly visit to the watchtower. “You’re working too hard, Damian,” she said, her voice tinged with worry. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
I nodded, but even in her presence, I couldn’t escape the feeling of impending dread. “I promise I just need to get through this last stretch then I’ll take a nice long extended vacation,” I tried to sound reassuring, but she saw right through me and gave me a kiss before leaving.
The next night, a group of campers went missing without a trace. Their tents were torn to shreds, and the forest echoed with their terrified screams. I radioed Chief Parker in a panic, my hands trembling as I relayed the grim news.
“There’s something out there, Chief,” I pleaded, my voice raw with desperation. “We need to do something before it’s too late.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Chief Parker spoke, his voice grave. “Damian, listen to me carefully,” he said, his tone urgent. “There are things in these woods that defy explanation. I’ve seen them with my own eyes, and I pray you never have to witness the true horror of what lies beneath.”
I felt a chill run down my spine as his words sank in. “What are you saying, Chief?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“There’s an ancient spirit that haunts these woods,” he replied, his voice trembling with fear. “It was here long before we ever set foot in this place, and it will be here long after we’re gone. It’s angry, Damian. Angry at what man has done to its once peaceful forest.”
I sat in stunned silence as Chief Parker’s words washed over me. Suddenly, everything made sense—the strange occurrences, the feeling of being watched, the campers’ disappearance. It was all connected, a twisted tapestry woven by the vengeful spirit of the forest.
Over the next few days, I spent most of them mulling over my situation. Chief Parker told me that if I can just wait until the end of this week I can leave early. He had explained the entity only stays within the area of my tower, but hadn’t been seen in the last 20 years. He suggested that the campers may have disturbed it and that as long as I kept to myself I would be ok.
As the last day approached, I noticed the trees had been whispering with a dark aura coming from the wind passing through their tops. I went to ensure all my things were ready in preparation for my departure that next morning making sure everything was good to go. Suddenly, I felt a cold chill go down my spine as I secured the last of my supplies the trunk of my Jeep.
I slowly turned around to face the spirit of the forest. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It was a being made of smoke with two blue orbs for eyes. I was stunned and couldn’t move as it reached out to me before my hand held radio crackled to life. “Damian, you ok? You missed your evening sign off,” Chief Parker’s voice rang out like gunshot in the utter silence.
In my new found awareness I jumped into my Jeep and slammed the door shut as I turned the ignition. This caused the creature to utter an ear splitting scream as I shifted into drive and started to go down the trail out of the woods.
As I drove, the trail I noticed had trees that were shaking, almost like the branches were reaching out with long gangly arms trying to stop me. I kept hearing the wail of that thing as I drove making me press on the gas more. I knew it was risky but what choice did I have? It was either stay put and let it do to me what it did to those campers, or wreck be unable to run.
After what felt like hours and many near crashes I finally came to the main road. I drove down it for a while before realizing the spirit wasn’t fallowing me. I pulled over to the side of the road and kept on high alert making sure I was alone. After waiting for what felt like way entirely too long I finally kept driving making sure “it” wasn’t fallowing me.
The next morning came and I called the station to let them know I was ok. I told the Chief what happened and he didn’t blame me for leaving like I did. I was thankful that he understood I was never coming back because I never want to relive that nightmare again.