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[01:05] Hello everyone, and welcome back to Horror Stories. I know many of you use these episodes to fall asleep, so before you drift off, I'd love it if you could leave a comment letting me know where you're listening from around the world. Also, don't forget to like and subscribe if you're enjoying the episodes. Story one. A few months ago, I went hiking in a state forest that I visit frequently. I've been there many times, and nothing unusual had ever happened to me before. The forest covers nearly 2,000 acres of land, with long winding trails that stretch between lush wild trees. There are two parking lots, one on the east side and one on the west, but both are quite far from each other. That day, I went to the parking lot on the east side, and I was glad to see it was completely empty. My car was the only one there. This didn't seem strange to me, since the forest is very quiet and hidden, so few people visit it. That is precisely one of the reasons I love going there. Normally, I like to leave the main trail and explore among the trees, looking for corners that seem untouched by humans, or places far away from any trace of civilization. That day seemed like any other. I started the hike with my dog, following a path I already knew well, enjoying the silence and calm of the surroundings. We walked about six miles into the forest until we reached a point where the bed of a river crossed the trail. The sound of the water flowing caught my attention, so I decided to leave the path and follow the river deeper into the woods. The trees became denser, and the air was cool and damp as we pushed farther in, moving farther and farther away from any trace of the trail. We continued along the riverbed for another three miles, surrounded by nothing but pure nature. In the middle of that absolute silence, I heard what sounded like a distant conversation between two people. I stopped to listen, but everything around me was calm. Even so, I could make out the faint murmur of two voices talking to each other. It was so subtle that I even thought it might be an animal or a strange echo. But then I realized it didn't make sense for there to be people so far out in that area. It was very unlikely. The sound faded little by little, so I decided to ignore it and keep walking. The riverbed was in a deep valley, with steep hills rising on both sides. I decided to climb the hill on the right to get a better view of the area before heading back, which would make my total hike about sixteen miles. My dog followed me as I began the climb, which turned out to be pretty exhausting. The slope was steep, and I felt more and more tired as I went up. After what felt like an eternity, I reached a flat area at the top, where I found a large rock and sat down for a moment to rest and let my dog catch his breath. I was there, in complete silence, enjoying the stillness, when suddenly I heard the two voices again, just a few yards from me, on the other side of a bend in the cliff. I couldn't understand a single word, but the sound was clearly human. That situation chilled me to the bone, because I had gone there specifically to get away from people. Remember that I arrived at an isolated state forest, with an empty parking lot and no other car. Besides, there is no other way to access the place without a vehicle, and I had walked miles into the forest, off any trail, climbing a steep hill to reach that height. To make matters worse, it was early spring, and the ground was covered with a layer of dry leaves and branches at least a foot thick. Moving through the forest made a lot of noise, like being a freight train, so they should have heard me coming. The same way I would have noticed their footsteps, but I heard absolutely nothing. The voices appeared suddenly and disappeared after a minute, which put me on edge. At that moment, I decided it was time to leave as soon as possible, but that wasn't all. When I finally managed to climb back down toward the river bed and started heading back in the direction of the main trail I had left, I heard the two voices again. However, this time, they weren't talking. What I heard were strange howls similar to a wolf's, echoing through the trees behind me. Those cries repeated over and over again with an unsettling drawn-out tone, and I felt a shiver run through my whole body. They continued for quite a while as the echo slowly faded into the forest, and my dog began to get uneasy, constantly looking back. Even when I finally returned to the main trail, I could still hear those distant wails, growing fainter but just as disturbing. I didn't stop walking for a second until we reached the car. When I finally got to the parking lot, I quickly got into the car with my dog and we left the area without looking back. The parking lot was still completely empty, with no other vehicle in sight, neither nearby nor in the surrounding area. That's why it's very hard for me to believe there were really two people out there, considering the distance, the difficulty of the terrain, and the complete absence of human signs. Although, of course, I can't say it was impossible. Maybe they were some expert hikers, people used to going deep into the forest for days or weeks. But even so, why were they howling? Why didn't they make any other noise? And how is it that they didn't seem to notice my presence? When it was obvious, they should have heard me among the dry leaves and branches snapping under my steps. To this day, I don't have an explanation. I only know it was one of the strangest and most terrifying experiences I've had in my years of hiking in that forest. Story two. Listen to this. I was a scout from the age of 12 to 16, and on many occasions, we would camp on a large hill in the Wicklow Mountains. The place was surrounded by dense forests and hills, which made it beautiful during the day, but also quite unsettling when night fell. Our scout leaders loved telling us creepy stories around the campfire, and one of the most popular was about a woman who supposedly haunted that area, known as the Lady of the Big Hill. They said she wandered through the woods at night, searching for something or someone. Back then, I didn't believe those stories. I thought they were just made up tales meant to scare us. Let me explain a bit about the layout of the camp. When you arrive by car, the first thing you came to was a wide gravel parking area. To the right was the welcome center along with the bathrooms, and straight ahead, a gravel path that led deeper into the camp. On both sides of that path, there were entrances into different fields. That time, we were camping in the field farthest away, the one all the way at the back. The camp didn't have any lights beyond the ones near the bathrooms and outside the welcome center, which barely lit up the parking lot. That weekend, our dining tent, or large marquee, was set up near the entrance to the field, right where the path that connected the parking area began. Our personal tents were more spread out, placed at the back of the field, facing toward the mountains. It got truly dark at night, since the only light came from our flashlights or the campfire. The atmosphere became mysterious and a bit creepy once the sun disappeared behind the hills. Our group consisted of four girls split between two small tents, with some of the boys' tents placed around. I shared a tent with my best friend, but that afternoon we had argued about something insignificant. Even though we weren't speaking, I didn't dare walk alone through the camp, because the darkness was absolute. The only area with light was by the bathrooms and the parking lot, and the rest of the place was completely dark. So later that night, when everyone else was sleeping soundly, I asked my friend to come with me to the bathroom. It was about a five-minute walk from our tent, and I didn't want to go alone. She was still annoyed and walked about 6.5 feet ahead of me, without saying a word. We didn't use any flashlights, and we headed toward the dining tent, since it had a single light hanging outside, which lit up part of the field. As we walked, and I kept my eyes on the ground so I wouldn't trip over roots or any camping gear that might have been left out for the next morning. Then I noticed something that made me stop for a moment. To my left, about three feet, roughly a meter behind me, the shadow of a little girl was being cast. I thought one of the other girls must have heard us leaving and decided to come along because she was afraid to walk alone to the bathrooms. So I turned around to see who it was, but there was no one there. Still, when I looked back down at the ground, the shadow was still there. I could clearly make out that it was the silhouette of a girl. She had long hair and seemed to be wearing a dress or a nightgown. I looked at my own shadow, then my friends, and then the shadow that was walking beside me. That's when I realized something very strange. The only source of light that night, a cloudy night with no moon or stars, was coming from the right, from the dining tent. Therefore, our shadows were being cast forward, roughly in the direction of ten o'clock. But that other shadow, the girl's shadow, wasn't coming from anywhere. It seemed to be there on its own, for no reason at all. I tried to find a logical explanation, thinking maybe it was some effect of the light or an optical illusion. But fear froze me in place. I closed my eyes for a moment and hurried closer to my friend, who kept walking in silence. The entire way, we didn't say a single word. All you could hear were our footsteps on gravel and the rustling of leaves moved by the wind through the trees. When we passed the dining tent and reached the main path, we both turned on our phone flashlights to light the way. I felt a chill run down my spine, hoping that nothing and no one would jump out of the darkness. In the distance, you could see a few scattered lights from other camps, but they were too weak and too far away to help us. When we finally reached the bathrooms, I closed the stall door and sat there, trying to calm down. I waited until I heard my friend flush and open her door before I dared to come out. I didn't even want to look at myself in the mirror while I washed my hands, afraid of seeing something reflected that I didn't want to see. After that, we went back to our tent in silence. I climbed into my sleeping bag without saying a single word. I could hear my friend moving, but I was too shaken to talk. That night, I barely slept, trying to understand what had happened and whether I had really seen a ghost. To this day, every time someone asks me if I've had a paranormal experience, I can't help remembering that shadow walking behind me. Story Three. I live in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in northeast Georgia. It's a beautiful area, with miles and miles of national forest, gorgeous state parks, and great places to camp. I love hiking those trails with my dog, enjoying nature, although I have to admit that sometimes the atmosphere can feel a little unsettling. The paths are usually very lonely and remote, which can be unnerving when you know civilization is several miles away. From town, it's about a ten-minute drive to the trails, and there's no cell service or nearby houses for miles. That feeling of being completely disconnected from the world can be nice, until you think about what would happen if you needed urgent help. Also in the past, there have been many car break-ins at trailheads, so I always make sure to lock the vehicle well and take anything valuable with me. The gravel parking lots often glint in the sun with shards of glass, probably from broken windows. And sometimes you see suspicious people hanging around out there, or old vehicles driving along the forest service roads. Those dirt roads are so rough they're barely passable except for 4x4 vehicles. But strangely, beat up cars often come flying down them at full speed, driven by guys who look like they walked out of a scene from Breaking Bad. Despite all that, it's still a great place to camp, as long as you take the necessary precautions. A few years ago, two friends and I decided to go play paintball in the National Forest, and we made a weekend camping trip out of it so we could keep playing the next day. We spent a calm, fun day shooting paintballs at each other and laughing. And as evening fell, we drove a couple of miles to one of the more well-known camping areas. But when we got there, we found that a church group had taken all the sites. It was the only place we knew, and it was already starting to get dark, so we decided to keep looking. We drove for almost another hour, going deeper and deeper into the forest. But daylight was fading fast, and we started to worry we wouldn't find somewhere to spend the night. Even though we all had GPS on our phones, none of us had service, so we were basically going in blind. Eventually, we took an unfamiliar, badly maintained road. It looked like the rangers had blocked the route with a mound of dirt, probably using a backhoe. However, it was clear that off-road vehicles had been driving over it, since the mound was partially worn down. Our F-150 had good clearance, so we decided to cross. On the other side, we found an old gravel road, relatively clear. We drove a few more miles until we came to a clearing beside a small creek. There we saw something strange. Blue tarps were hanging over an improvised plywood table nailed to a tree. The sun was almost gone, and we didn't want to keep wandering all night looking for another spot. We turned on the truck's lights and started setting up the tent. As we did, I noticed a lot of trash scattered among the trees, and a green bottle on the ground caught my attention. I picked it up and read the label. It was a household and garden insecticide. I was tired and didn't think much of it. I figured someone had simply thrown their trash there, even though it didn't make sense. The spot was more than an hour from the nearest home. Still, we set up camp and cooked chili from scratch. It was probably close to 11 p.m. While we were eating, we noticed a faint glow coming from the other side of a nearby hill. At first, we thought it was moonlight filtering through the trees, but the angle didn't match. It wasn't a strong light, and it wasn't moving. More like a diffuse glow, similar to the light you see above a lit-up city, even though there was nothing nearby that could produce it. Since there were no visible access roads, we ruled out other campers. The hill was about a quarter of a mile away, so we decided to go investigate. Under normal circumstances, I never would have done it. But that night, we'd had a few rum and cokes, and Jacob and I worked up the nerve to go. Our friend Isaac chose to stay behind, making popcorn over the fire. We started walking toward the hill, and the closer we got, the stranger everything became. The trees had bark stripped off in circular patterns, as if someone had peeled it by hand all the way around the trunks. We thought maybe a beaver from the nearby creek had done it, but it didn't make sense for a beaver to leave its mark on so many different trees in that way. Laughing nervously, we joked about a ghost beaver, shouting nonsense as we climbed. But right when Jacob tripped and let out a shout, the light shut off instantly. We stared at each other, frozen. And without saying a word, we decided we didn't need to know what that light was. We headed back in silence, constantly glancing over our shoulders. So we wouldn't draw attention. We turned off our flashlights and followed the path guided only by the moonlight. As we got close to our camp just a few yards away, I saw something that made me stop dead in my tracks. Isaac was walking around the tent. He was wearing a hooded jacket I hadn't seen before, and he was holding his paintball gear in his hand, which struck us as odd. The fire was almost out, so we couldn't see clearly. But from far away, it looked like he was searching for something or checking the tent. When we got closer, we saw Isaac step off the trail, walking toward us. We thought he'd gone to the bathroom, so we sat by the fire to wait for him. Suddenly, another Isaac came staggering out of the tent, vomiting and mumbling that he'd had too much to drink. We asked him why he'd been wandering around camp with the paintball gear, but he looked confused and said it hadn't been him, that all the gear was stored in the truck. We went to check. I entered the code to the F-150 door, and there it all was, exactly as we'd left it, with the keys still hidden under the chassis on the magnet, a cold knot tightened in my stomach. Isaac, what were you doing while we were gone? I asked. Nothing, he replied. I was watching a movie on my phone. I think I fell asleep. But you didn't leave the tent, you didn't change jackets? No, he said. I've been here the whole time, in the same fleece. That's when we realized someone had been walking around our camp, pretending to be Isaac. It was too late and we'd had too much to drink to drive, but we didn't want to stay another minute. We decided to pack up the essentials and leave. We didn't even take the tent down properly. We just folded it up with the sleeping bag still inside, loaded it into the truck, and took off. When we reached the dirt mound, we saw something gray blocking the road. The metal barrier that had previously been lying in the bushes had now been placed back on top of the mound again, closing off the way. No one wanted to get out of the vehicle. Luckily, the F-150 had a front metal guard, so I inched forward, pushing the barrier with the bumper until we were able to get through. But then a new nightmare began. When I looked in the mirror, we saw another vehicle following us, with its lights off. It was about a fifth of a mile behind, but the moonlight made its outline visible. I sped up as much as I could on the gravel forest road, and the car behind us kept pace. For about 45 minutes, I drove without stopping, heart pounding, until we finally reached the main paved road. As soon as we got out of the forest, I took a different route to my house. Just in case. Luckily, we didn't get pulled over by the police, because it definitely would have looked like I was driving drunk. Camping can be fun, yes, but doing it in places that are too remote can be dangerous. I've driven past that metal barrier again, and it's still there, in its place. As solid as ever. But I would never take that road again.