It all began a few weeks ago while I was watching the news with my parents. A 32-year-old man had gone missing after he set out on a MTB trail deep within the forest. His wife, growing increasingly concerned, had reported his absence to the police. A search operation was launched, but all they found was his abandoned bike. Even after conducting a DNA test on the bike, they were left with no substantial leads.
Weeks passed, and the initial frenzy of the search operation subsided. The man’s wife was heartbroken, and he was ultimately declared dead. Most people in the area remained oblivious to the mysterious disappearance and continued using the trail as they always had.
A few weeks later, it suddenly happened again. Two people this time, had ventured into the forest and vanished without a trace. It triggered another, even more extensive search, but, once again, all they found were the two abandoned bikes. One of the bikes was discovered broken, as though it had been violently smashed against a tree.
Debate raged on whether the MTB trail should be closed until the enigmatic mystery was unraveled. It was during these discussions, that I made a decision, one that would lead to the most harrowing adventure of my life. I chose to investigate the trail myself.
You might question my judgment and consider me naïve for venturing into the woods. In some ways, you’d be right. However, I wasn’t foolish enough to go alone. I convinced my best friend, James, to accompany me. We were both 17 years old.
On a sunny Tuesday, we set off from James’s house. He brought along a pocket knife, which did much to boost my sense of security. It took us about an hour to reach the trailhead.
“Let’s have some fun,” James said as we entered the trail. His enthusiasm was contagious, and I was genuinely excited. After approximately half an hour of cycling, I noticed something unusual through the trees and motioned for James to stop.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“I saw something,” I replied, pointing. We left our mountain bikes on the trail’s side and approached the spot where I’d spotted something. As we neared, my heart rate quickened. It was a carcass.
“Congratulations,” James quipped, “You’ve discovered a dead animal.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this animal’s death wasn’t natural. My instincts were on high alert.
“You don’t know what killed it,” I responded, trying to convey my unease. “It could be something unusual.”
“Or it could be nothing at all,” James countered, rejecting any connection to the earlier disappearances.
Then, we heard it – a man’s cries and screams reverberating through the forest. The sound was faint, distant, and blood-curdling. James and I exchanged worried glances and, without hesitation, ran toward the source. The cries grew louder and more distinct as we approached, but then, suddenly, they ceased. Complete silence descended, except for our heavy breathing and the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath our feet.
As we entered a small clearing, we halted at the edge of a grassy field with a river flowing through it. The forest continued on the other side, several hundred feet away. On our side of the river, we spotted a young boy, approximately 15 years old, sitting beside a man in his thirties, clad in a military uniform. A knife was lodged in the man’s chest. We stared, stupefied.
James held his pocket knife tightly. “Let’s see what the kid has to say.”, I suggested.
“What the hell happened?” Despite his best efforts to sound calm, James’s voice quivered as he spoke to the boy, who jolted and swiftly turned to face us.
Then, in the blink of an eye, the boy disappeared into thin air.
Yes, he vanished.
One moment, he was in plain sight, and the next, he was gone.
James turned to me, a mix of surprise, shock, and confusion etched across his face. In the following moment, he doubled over as if struck in the gut. Caught off guard, he dropped his knife, which vanished into thin air too. Then the boy suddenly reappeared a few feet away from James.
“Who are you?” the boy asked with a threatening tone that sent a shiver down my spine. He gripped James’s knife, which was now visible again, firmly in his hand.
“Why should I tell you?” James retorted, though bewildered and clearly in pain.
“Because otherwise, I will end both of you,” the boy threw back.
I was convinced he wasn’t bluffing, and with a moment’s hesitation, I began speaking. I shared our names, the reason for our presence in the forest, and the strange cry we had heard. The boy seemed to pay very close attention, as if searching for any signs of deceit. Gradually, he seemed to accept my explanation, relaxing a bit and lowering the knife.
“Now it’s your turn to talk,” James chimed in, his arms crossed. “Who, or what, are you?”
The boy heaved a sigh. “My real name doesn’t matter, but I’m known as the Ghost. I—”
He was cut off by a spine-chilling roar from the forest behind us, unlike anything we’d ever heard before. All three of us froze, consumed by fear and confusion.
“We need to get to the other side of the river,” the boy declared.
“And how do you propose we do that?” James and I asked in unison, eyeing the rapidly flowing water.
“There’s a path of stones. Follow me,” the boy replied before sprinting toward the river.
I started following him, but James stayed still, doubting. “Why are we following the murderer now?”, he said.
“Because I’m the only chance you have of leaving this forest alive”, Ghost replied, while the sound of trees breaking and falling filled our ears.
“And the only chance to get us killed”, James murmured, reluctantly following along.
While passing the dead body, Ghost pulled his knife out of it in a swift movement, whereafter he jumped from stone to stone, following an invisible path across the unforgiving water. The boy navigated with a grace and speed we couldn’t match, leaving us feeling terribly clumsy. Halfway across, I almost slipped and struggled to maintain my footing. When we reached the opposite bank, the boy continued running deeper into the woods. James and I were utterly exhausted.
“Can we… take a break?” I panted, genuinely impressed by the boy’s agility and stamina.
“Almost,” he said, not seeming even a little tired. Then he slowed down and finally halted his run. He surveyed the area cautiously. I took a moment to study him. He was fast and strong and had brown hair and hazel eyes. He appeared friendly, which didn’t go well with my memory of the dead man near the river.
In one fluid motion, the boy sheathed both his own as James’s knife and pushed aside some leaves with his foot, unveiling a concealed handle. He pulled the handle, revealing the entrance to an underground hideaway with an eerie, creaking noise.
James and I stood in astonishment, gazing at each other. “Can we trust him?” James asked me.
“It’s me or that monster”, the boy said in reply with a nod in the direction of the river while he climbed down the ladder into the black hole, not waiting for me to answer James. Again an awful roar flooded the forest.
James pupils widened and he quickly went inside after the boy. Just as terrified, I followed James and sealed the entrance behind us. Darkness enveloped us. Then, a small light flickered to life, revealing a small stone room with a partially broken table and a few metal closets. Ghost was holding a small candle.
“What is this place?” I asked.
“It’s an old military bunker”, he replied. “We’re safe here for now. Do any of you want some food?”.
I’m writing this now from the bunker. Strangely, my phone maintains a connection here, deep within the forest. There must be some facility nearby. Perhaps we’ll search for it later. For now, we are trapped here, with that monstrous entity outside hunting us. I’ll post further updates when I have the opportunity. Stay safe.