Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 181 - Backcountry - Scary Stories and Rain

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
Hey, welcome to Scary Stories and Rain.
I really hope you enjoyed this episode.
And don't forget you can subscribe to this podcast for
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Nintendo Switch to Mario Kart bundle.
Only 299 a month, no more ads. I have all the info you need in

(00:21):
the description to this episode.And one last thing, thank you so
much for being here. I really hope you enjoy.
I'm a middle-aged man who works from home.
I work from the top floor of a split level house and have a
window next to me that always has the curtains open.

(00:43):
Sometimes I work nights for deploying software and don't
think to shut my curtains. You know how if it's dark
outside and your light is on, people can kind of see in but
you can't see out? Well, one night I was working
and obviously focused on what I was doing as well as on a group
call centering around the deployment.

(01:06):
So I was not looking out the window periodically or anything.
So I don't know how long this lady was standing in my yard
looking through my window. But when the call was over, I
turned off the lights and she was right there.
She looked normal suburban mom looking lady just standing there

(01:28):
staring into my window. I don't believe that she was
just looking at my house in general or anything because she
was clearly looking up and rightat my window.
I wanted to believe she was one of those people who are always
spamming you with offers to buy your house or fix your roof
after hail damage or whatever. But it was like 9:30 PM.

(01:52):
It was completely dark outside and again, she was intently just
staring through my window. What was so jarring was how
normal she looked though. I live in an OK neighborhood,
but there is a homeless population in the nearby woods.
But this woman did not look homeless.

(02:13):
She looked like one of the ladies who would walk their kids
to school every day. Just a typical suburbanite lady.
I am the type to kind of slowly try and figure things out before
acting, so I just waited. I was confident she couldn't see
me with my lights off so I wanted to see what she was going

(02:34):
to do. I looked at my phone to see if
the Ring doorbell had notified me and sure enough it had.
Looking through the camera didn't tell me anything new
though. She must have stood there for
about 3 more minutes and then just wandered off.
She walked out of view so I couldn't see which house she

(02:55):
went into. I was sufficiently weirded out
and thought about running out there to ask what she wanted,
but ultimately I just told myself that I would pay close
attention the next few days to see if anything else weird
happened. It wasn't until a few days later
that I saw her again. I was walking my dog.

(03:17):
She's tiny, not at all scary, but she does notice and bark at
everything. I was taking her on her before
bed walk when she started pulling really hard and freaking
out for her. That's not super atypical though
because she is a spaz dog. So she's pulling kind of up a

(03:38):
driveway and I pull her back. She doesn't obey, she just keeps
pulling. I look up the driveway and
ducked down behind an SUV. Is the woman crouched on the
ground like a child looking at me from behind it?
It was the same woman as before,obviously well done hair,

(04:02):
makeup, I mean I can't stress how normal she looked but at the
same time out of her mind apart from being crouched on the
cement staring at me. I sort of freak out and just say
sorry for whatever reason and pull my dog along the sidewalk
until she chills out when we finally got far enough away.

(04:26):
Now I'm walking fast and headingaround the block so I don't
cross that house again. I'm pretty Jarred by that
experience and running through amillion explanations in my mind,
but also kind of happy that I know where she lives at least so
I can call the cops if I need to.
I round the final corner to headto my house, but I see someone

(04:48):
standing right in front of it. Now I know who it's going to
turn out to be and I have 0 ideaof what to do.
I'm trapped on the sidewalk so Ijust keep moving forward.
The figure reveals itself to be the woman as I get closer and as

(05:08):
I just awkwardly say something like can I help you?
I don't clearly remember as I was freaking out.
She says nothing in response, just stares at me.
I ask her again if she needs help because at this point I'm
wondering if she has special needs and has wandered away from

(05:31):
a caretaker or something. I'm about to just walk past her
and go inside and call the cops,but then she reaches out and
asks if she can pet my dog. I say sure, because what else do
you say? She leans down to pet my dog and
transforms into the normal person she looks like.

(05:53):
She starts asking me about the breed and I tell her it's a
Pomeranian and Husky mix and shegoes on about how cute she is.
I kind of laugh and agree but inwardly I'm just very confused.
I go to head inside when I decide now that she's speaking
I'll ask her why she was standing outside my house.

(06:16):
I do, and she, just as if it's the most normal thing to say in
the world, says I thought my love was only for you, but I see
it's because of your puppy too. I'm stunned.
My face must have shown it and Idon't speak for a minute at
least. She fills the awkward silence by

(06:38):
saying love is something you just know.
You know. You just know when it's real.
It's meant to be when it's meantto be and I can tell.
I wanted to tell her that I was married but I didn't think she
would believe me since she seemslike she's been stalking me and

(06:59):
lives close by. So I just say something along
the lines of I don't know if I believe it's that simple.
I'm really not looking for a relationship though right now.
But yeah, I I I think my dog is cute too.
I laugh awkwardly and try to break off to head inside.
It works, but before I turn to disappear behind the back of the

(07:22):
house, I look back and she is burning a hole right through me.
This is sort of where the story ends, except to say that she
still stares into my window fromtime to time.
It's always just from the sidewalk.
But it's been about a month and a half since that incident and

(07:42):
I'm worried that it will happen again.
I don't want to call the police because she hasn't really done
anything, it's just the look in her eye and her weird behaviour
and the way she talks that freaks me out.
I'm really hoping she sets her sights on someone else soon and
just goes away. I have really been into urban

(08:18):
exploration, or urbex for short,for a couple of years now, and
living in Europe, Germany specifically, there are always
reasonably nearby sites to visit.
I started by venturing into wellresearched urbex areas with my
friends. At the time I was a teen who was
afraid to explore alone, afraid of getting assaulted, kidnapped,

(08:42):
mugged or worse. Eventually though, after about a
year of urbexing with friends, Idecided that I was finally
competent enough to explore alone.
I had become knowledgeable of what safety measures to take.
For instance, equipment pieces like masks are necessary when
entering old buildings due to the likeliness of asbestos

(09:06):
particles being present and one should always wear thick clothes
and sturdy shoes to ensure you do not step or bump into
anything sharp or harmful. I always scope the buildings and
pre plan entry and exit plans. Additionally, my location was
shared with one of my closest friends every time I went on an

(09:28):
adventure. I had successfully irbexed
several times alone and covered many abandoned places across
East Germany. In July of 2018, however, things
went very wrong. It was the peak of summer, and
because I had explored almost all of the places near me, I had

(09:48):
to dedicate time to more tediousmethods of finding spots.
I began to research bunkers thatwere used in prevalent wars in
Germany, especially in World War2.
I came across one in the depths of a forest about 3 hours drive
from my city. I was very certain it would be
there, and when I arrived, it sure was.

(10:11):
I was over the moon. I felt like a real explorer
uncovering ancient artifacts. It was all concrete on the
outside and had no sign of vandalism, so I assumed no one
else had ever found it. It took me almost an hour to
find a way in. I fiddled with the door, banged

(10:32):
rocks up against it, and prayed until it finally cracked open.
It was almost too easy. I turned my headlamp on and was
wearing a mask and gloves for extra protection.
Even through the mask the smell was foul, as if something had
died in there. The interior was surprisingly

(10:53):
large and the floor was laden with papers and trash.
What began to freak me out was in one of the sleeping quarters
I found a pillow which was slightly ripped open, and when I
picked it up I realized it was hair.
Human hair, I'm guessing? I suddenly wanted to leave, but

(11:14):
I forced myself to stay as I didnot want to drive 3 hours for
nothing. When I pulled my eyes away from
the pillow and scanned the room,I recoiled and noticed something
strange out of place. Even it was an eaten can of
beans with a plastic spoon in it, the paper can wrap was still

(11:36):
vibrant. I picked it up carefully to
examine it and I read the expiration date July 11th, 2018.
I was a bit freaked out, but I just chalked it up to someone
else exploring this place beforeme.
However, as I kept exploring, I started to see signs of modern

(11:57):
life. More food packaging, decent
clothes, air freshener cans. The rotten smell became more
pungent as I walked around. As soon as I entered the next
room, I physically folded at theputrid smell that instantly made
me feel sick. As I recovered, I began to look

(12:19):
around the room and almost jumped when I saw three bodies.
The first thought that rushed tomy head was that this place was
occupied by squatters, but I think that was just the shock
speaking as clearly they were dead.
It was a heavyset old man, a woman of similar age and very

(12:40):
distressingly, a small boy, maybe nine years old.
Their bodies were swollen and their skin was purple and waxy.
The older man was lying on his back, his stomach mutilated,
only wearing khaki trousers. The image of his desecrated body

(13:00):
still haunts me. The woman was naked and was
covered in bruises. Her face stared at me.
I was absolutely horrified. The child's face was
unrecognizable. I began to cry.
I could not breathe. Thousands of thoughts consumed

(13:21):
my mind. What if the person who did this
is close? What if they're still here?
What if they find me? I would end up dead just like
them. I went to call the emergency
service number from my country, but there was no service here.
In my shocked and terrified state, I decided to take photos

(13:42):
of the scene before exiting as fast as I could.
I did not even bother shutting the door, I just ran.
Much to my horror. I froze on the spot when I heard
footsteps. I crouched behind a fallen tree,
though I could still see the bunker entrance if I jutted my

(14:04):
head out, though I did not dare to.
I heard a male voice seed and yell.
I was not expecting visitors in German, before stanching into
the bunker. I felt the biggest relief that
he decided to forego scooping the area, and when I thought he

(14:25):
was deep enough into the bunker to not hear me, I ran again as
fast as my body could possibly allow.
I remembered that the road was about a 30 minute walk from the
bunker and I ran for what felt like ages.
As I saw the road, I heard a vicious scream and running

(14:45):
behind me. I put in every ounce of survival
I had in me and ran for a couplemore minutes before finally
crawling up to the road and to my car, which was about 200
meters from where I emerged. My keys were in my backpack and
my shaky hands were not helping.However, when I finally got
them, I saw the figure climbing up the road from the forest.

(15:10):
He seems to be about 60 years old and was very tall.
In his hand was a large knife which looked used.
I was able to get into my car and lock the doors just as he
slammed into my window, banging on the glass and cursing at me.
I started the ignition and droveover 140 kilometers an hour,

(15:34):
which was well over the speed limit, though of course I didn't
care. Looking back, I am so grateful
that he did not slash my tires or anything, instead was too
focused on screaming at me. I stopped at the nearest gas
station and called my father. I told him everything.

(15:56):
I arrived home and he met me at my place.
We immediately went to the police.
I showed them the photos I took,described the man, and gave them
coordinates to the place they said they would go check it out.
However, they never did get backto me.
I have no idea if they actually did.

(16:18):
Since then, I have given up urbex and for a long time I
couldn't even go out alone. I even received therapy to deal
with the trauma of seeing those bodies.
To this day, over five years later, the images of them, their
eyes and the sound of this man'svoice, they haunt my dreams.

(16:57):
There was blood in my shoes again as I sat in the staff
room, waiting for my heart rate to return to not deadly
seriously. Had I known that making some
extra Christmas money was going to be this intense, I would have
just bought a big bag of macaroni and glitter and made
everybody calendars. I'd seen advertisements for

(17:18):
temporary Christmas staff for a major online retailer.
I won't say which one just in case they see this, but you
might have seen people droning on about their latest
innovation. If you're still in doubt, during
the training period I was informed by a manager with a
puffed up chest that the warehouse had its own public Rd.

(17:40):
built by the local council just to accommodate them.
As I say. Which retailer?
A major one. The role was a picker.
As the Christmas orders flooded in, it was my job to dash around
the shelves, picking them up andbringing them back for packing.
I'd worked in Target based environments before, so I

(18:02):
thought I had known what I was getting myself into, but no, I
guess you don't become a major online retailer without
knackering a few ankles. I took a pedometer to work one
day out of curiosity and was amazed to see that I covered
nearly 16 miles in a single shift.

(18:22):
The job was monotonous, but whatwas worse was the sheer pressure
of the role. I had a handheld little BP
machine that I had to use to scan all the items I was picking
and man, no sound in history hasever become so irritating as
fast as that little handheld. The world over there are

(18:44):
babysitters violently shaking infants and thinking that at
least they don't have to carry this thing for a daily half
marathon. Every few hours I would have to
check in with the supervisor whowould check my pick rate.
He could even set it to start beeping if it got too low, like
I was the bus and speed chargingaround the aisles with an

(19:06):
imaginary Keanu Reeves on my back making sure I don't go
below 50 items per hour. Every shift was the same.
Beep One Direction beep Pokémon X beep Game of Thrones beep
Breaking Bad complete box set Beep Hunger Games poster beep

(19:26):
hopes Beep dreams beep Legend ofZelda premium Wii U gift set.
It didn't take long for the physical demands of the role to
come to the fore. The skin at the base of my nails
was broken and peeling from being caught on 50 books and CDs
an hour. My knees ached and popped from

(19:48):
doing more squats than an Olympic wannabe.
But the worst was the blisters. I would check my feet after each
shift and see raw red irritated skin.
I would check again in the morning and try to gently roll a
sock over the big skin bubble ofprotective fluid that had
developed overnight. The worst though, was spending a

(20:11):
day running on it, feeling the pressure of your steps stabbing
at the periphery of the blister,feeling it bulge and wane with
every step, feeling the pressureseparating the layers of skin.
Then finally feeling that one short jolt of pain followed by a
warm seeping damp that collects under the arc of your foot.

(20:35):
It was another shift down and there was blood in my shoes
again. Beep, beep, beep, beep.
Still, the money was all right and it was only temporary.
What really stepped up the game was when I offered a night
shift. The night shifts were a
different animal. People said they had better pay,

(20:58):
lower pick rate targets, fewer supervisors, fewer orders coming
through, the whole lot. They were massively coveted for
anyone whose personal timetable wasn't tied to the school run.
So if you were offered one, you took it.
I was offered a fortnight's worth of shifts, and the extra
money would mean I could quit a few shifts earlier before

(21:21):
Christmas. It was nothing short of a
godsend. My first shift was a week later.
It was stripped back all right, but even I wasn't ready for just
what a skeleton crew they had running the graveyard hours.
The pickers were out in force still, but everything else was
paired right back to the bone. It was just us in a scant few

(21:42):
supervisors in a warehouse that normally housed thousands.
Plus it was the night supervisors.
A strange, mythical breed. Mine was Derek.
Derek was ambiguously old. Old enough that being contracted
to such an antisocial shift begged questions about his

(22:03):
personal life that he was too old for anyone to dare ask.
He was a narrow man with narrow eyes in front of narrow
opinions. He wielded his clipboard and
tally sheets with all the MC Cobb Glee of an executioner,
just waiting for you to slip so we could take the minuscule
amount of power he'd been afforded and promptly get drunk

(22:26):
on it. Even the utilities were stripped
back, the fierce halogen overheads turned off in favor of
motion detecting spotlights onceevery five feet or so that only
let the immediate area around you.
It made charging around the corridors quite fun at first,
watching the rippling lights follow you along the aisles like

(22:49):
spotlights at a theater performing the world's dullest
rendition of Picker of the Opera.
However, it was here that I realized I've been sold a lie.
Sure, the pick rates were lower,but there was a reason the night
orders were more complex and needed picking from much further

(23:10):
flung corners of the warehouse. The extra running meant that a
lower target was instantly just as difficult to maintain.
Soon I was charging up and down the corridors with as much
urgency as I did on any day shift, riding the ripples of
motion tripped lights like some kind of weightless surfer.

(23:31):
It was those lights that first got me.
I was putting down a pic that was thankfully mostly CDs,
Taylor Swift, and Imagine Dragons.
I charged over to aisle 15, trying to speed hop to avoid
popping the big blister on my right heel, and scanned the
first with the usual beep. Then, some way down the aisle,

(23:55):
another light came on. I squinted into the dark towards
the newly lit patch, but I couldn't see anyone who could
have triggered the light. I shook it off.
Probably just some stock fallingover on a shelf.
I headed off to pick up Imagine Dragons, scanning the shelf
again. Beep.

(24:16):
And again down the aisle, another light came on.
I stood squinting into the dark to try and see what could have
set it off, but there was nothing.
There wasn't even any stock on those shelves that far down.
I called out to see if anyone was near enough to have set them
off. Hello.

(24:38):
Beep, beep, beep. Crap, I paused too.
Long and my pick rated dropped below target.
Derek would try to narrow me to death if I don't get it back up.
I charged off to get back on target.
Another order games. I dashed away to try and regain

(24:58):
some time. First game, Grand Theft Auto 5,
PlayStation 3 top sellers aisle 43 go.
The little red light on my scanner stayed red as I
collected it. Still under Target.
Next game, Call of Duty Xbox Onenew releases, aisle 48 still

(25:22):
below Target. This went on until 2 picks later
I got a lucky break with two items on adjacent shelves that I
was finally above Target again just before I had to check in
with Derek before my break. A Christmas miracle.
Derek's narrow little eyes narrowed on his narrow little

(25:43):
clipboard dipped below Target for a while there, kid.
He said with a mean grin, not wanting to miss a chance for a
dig. Yeah, I got it back, though.
I retorted. His grin sagged a little.
Yeah, well, be careful. I went to the little staff room

(26:04):
to drink a Blue Bear, my Christmas savings plan not
stretching as far as a genuine Red Bull.
It was a bare, dank little room,all painted and faded, smudged
off white color, with hard, coldplastic chairs like those you
would find stacked up at a school parents evening.
There was a machine labeled complimentary coffee, which was

(26:27):
only half right. Natalie, another girl on the
night shift, was there too. She was sat under a cork board
covered in laminated safety information and curling
advertisements for long sold cars and single moms selling
amateur pet grooming services. She stared at a coffee sat next
to some caffeine pills with the mindless stare of a lobotomized

(26:51):
PTSD victim. Natalie.
I asked. She looked up, bewildered at
this communication thing that had broken her stupor.
She seemed confused for a momentbefore shaking her head a little
and returning to earth. Sorry, was miles away there.
What's up? Have you had any problems with

(27:13):
the lights? Yeah, all the time.
I've lost count of how many times I've barreled down those
aisles in the dark because the motion centers.
Didn't, you know, sense motion. I'll break my leg one day.
Watch. What about coming on when
there's no one there? You know, Not happened to me,
but it wouldn't surprise me. I think Paul mentioned that a

(27:35):
few times. It's a proper crap system.
Surely they can't be saving thatmuch by just keeping the lights
on. Sodding pencil munchers.
Pencil muncher? That was a new one.
Natalie Scanner beeped. Oh, already?
She stood and left. Soon the fake energy from the

(27:58):
fake energy drink was stabbing into my muscles and begging to
be burnt off. My scanner started to beep,
indicating the start of round two.
The first pick was a crappy one,A little bit of everything from
all over the warehouse. Some chocolates, a toothbrush,
some CDs, some weird American sweets, couple of books and some

(28:22):
gardening equipment of all things.
I must have been above target when I finished, but I wasn't by
much and this pic was going to put me on the back foot.
I charged off for the chocolatesfirst.
Aisle 8 beep. Toothbrush beep.
Books beep. CDs beep.

(28:47):
I headed out for the American Suites, but I hit a nightmare
instead. They weren't there, they were
showing as in stock, but there'snone on the shelf.
This is a nightmare scenario. There's nothing in the Target to
account for misplaced inventory.You just have to suck it up,
find it and work harder. Afterwards.

(29:10):
I looked on the surrounding shelves and then heard the
fateful beep, beep beep beep to let me know I was now under
Target again. Beep, beep, beep.
Yes, I get it. Why don't you tell me where they
are, Pencil Muncher? It was two O 3 and I was
shouting weird insults at a handheld scanner.
Screw Christmas. I carried on frantically

(29:34):
searching the shelves. Other suites were everywhere.
Oreo. Pop Tarts?
Who the heck cares about Pop Tarts online?
Kinder Eggs? Milky Way's cola cubes?
I could see the red glow of the below Target light burning into
my peripheral vision, like a suntoo low for the car visor.

(29:56):
Further down the aisle. Again, another light came on.
No time right now, ghosty boy. I shouted.
I'd already shouted at my scanner.
I didn't see the harm in shouting at thin air.
I kept searching. The light down the aisle flipped
off. Then the next closest one came

(30:18):
on. Then the next.
Then the next. I momentarily forgot about my
search for Jolly Ranchers and turned to face this creeping
light. Whatever it was paused about 50
feet down the aisle. I stood frozen to the spot it
charged. The next light came on.

(30:40):
The next. The next light after light
flicked on as this invisible force raced down the aisle
towards me. I still couldn't move.
The lights flicked on one after the other like a wave of falling
dominoes. The lamps swayed towards me as
if pushed by fierce wind, but the chokingly dry air remained

(31:01):
still. The wave continued until it was
just two lamps away from me. Just one dead light separated me
from the bright puddle where whatever it was had stopped.
I heard a click and was suddenlyplunged Into Darkness.
I had been too still for too long.

(31:21):
The lamp above my head had turned off.
I stood in a sea of black, facing off against this little
puddle of light above my invisible foe.
I was still rooted to the spot. Then, too, the opposing light
turned off. I stood in a sea of oil.
Nothing but pure black surrounded me.

(31:45):
The oppressively tall shelves oneither side may well have been
miles away for all I could see. I could feel my heartbeat in my
eyes, I could feel the stink of the shifts sweat starting to
infect the air around me. But I saw nothing.
There was nothing. Somewhere, every few heartbeats

(32:08):
a second hand ticked. Beep, beep, beep.
Every light in the aisle burst with light with such power it
was almost audible. A towering fat black figure
blocked the aisle and arched over me, nearly blotting out the
light above my head. He swayed and grew, pulsed like
he was a cloud of ink swimming in unseen water.

(32:32):
Hands as big as bin lids fanned out on either side and swam over
to grab me. Beep, beep, beep.
The final beep was enough to breakthrough my fear and get my
feet moving. I sent every ounce of adrenaline
and blue bear strength to my calves and started running with
enough force to rupture every blister on my feet.

(32:53):
My socks swam with blood and fluid.
The torn bubbles of skin rubbed and ripped and squeaked over the
open wounds, but I couldn't evenfeel it.
I just kept pounding my feet down the solidly lit aisle, my
scanner beeping wildly to tell me that my pick rate was
slipping. Lights ahead of me wouldn't turn

(33:14):
on, but my long, pulsing shadow in front of me showed that
behind me, something was settingthem and following me.
I didn't dare stop running untilI nearly broke the door into the
staff room. No one was there but Derek.
He squinted at me, and then a strange look spread over his
face, a soft expression I had not seen before.

(33:39):
Sympathetic, even. He stood up and entered a small
code into my scanner. The small red warning light
turned green and my pick rate reset.
I'll transfer you to the day shift.

(34:08):
My heart skipped about anxiously, and I took another
deep breath to calm my steadily rising nerves.
While Melinda set the room up for our game, I sat at the
center of Mel's bedroom, feelingevery bit the part of a lab rat.
The room had been tidied, the floor cleared of any

(34:28):
obstructions as she fumble to set up the old mahogany cheval
mirror that we had managed to fumble down from her attic a few
feet in front of me. The room was dim, intentionally
so, casting us in an unusually oppressive sort of darkness.
The only light, with the exception of the candle we were

(34:50):
using in the spirit of the game,was the moonlight streaming in
through the window which Mel hadleft open for the crisp night
air. I shivered, both from the chill
of the house made frigid by the Illinois fall weather, and the
dark mass of anticipation swelling within me at the
prospect of the game ahead, which, particularly at that

(35:13):
moment, felt far more like an experiment than a game.
Mel turned to face me, then the mirror again, checking to make
sure that my reflection was perfectly aligned at the center
of its large surface. Finally, satisfied with
everything's place, she turned to face me.

(35:35):
OK. She said, clasping her hands
together and shooting me a wide,excitable grin.
You ready? Her eyes gleamed with nervous
yet enthused anticipation. You get what we're doing, right?
I shrugged. The video she had sent me had
given a brief explanation of thegame ritual.

(35:58):
Whatever, it was enough that I had a basic understanding.
Still, as I sat in almost complete darkness, only the
light of my phone illuminating the mirror, I couldn't help but
feel a steadily creeping sense of unease at the prospect, like
so many strangling vines tightening around me.

(36:19):
It wouldn't hurt to hear it all explained again, if for no other
reason than to just buy myself abit more time.
Just explain it one more time. Like which part, what the game
is, or how to play it. I nodded, smirking a little.
She shot me a look of mild irritation, lips pursing into a

(36:41):
tight frown, but obliged with a sigh.
OK, well, we're playing the mirror game, obviously.
She gestured to the mirror behind her.
I caught a glimpse of myself in it and couldn't help but frown,
pulling my sweater tight around me.
It's simple. You stare at yourself in the
mirror for about 10 minutes. Like, really look at yourself,

(37:05):
and after a while you'll start seeing things.
Things. I asked, the rising waters of
reluctance audible in my voice. She shrubbed Things.
She responded back. There's nothing specific.
Some people see their face change, others see shadows or

(37:25):
colors. It really depends on the person.
As her words painted eerie pictures in my mind, I found my
gaze wandering back to the mirror and felt a cold chill
down my back, like an icy caress.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and letting my mind drift
towards the sounds of the night around me.

(37:48):
From the open window, I could hear the sounds of the
surrounding woodland, the chirp of crickets, and the croak of
distant toads from the bog, paired with the breeze moving
through the leaves to form a soothing melody.
I let myself focus on it, tryingto quell my uneasiness.

(38:08):
What? I paused, considering what I was
asking. How is that possible?
She scoffed again, arms hanging at her side in an expression fit
for a frustrated child, not a 17year old.
I don't know, science stuff yourbrain like, makes up stuff to

(38:29):
fill in what it can't see properly, something like that.
Did you even watch the video? I nodded.
Relax, I tried it already. I saw some weird shadows, my
face did some weird stuff in themirror, but it wasn't too bad.
I thought that over for a second.
And we're in the dark. Because.

(38:50):
At that, a slightly mischievous grin slipped to her face.
She scratched her head, the tattoo on her arm flexing as she
did so. My eyes lingered on it a little
:) right eye winking almost conspiratorially.
That, she began, was my idea, thought it added a little.

(39:12):
Atmosphere. She waved her hands like some
budget magician at the word atmosphere, and we both laughed
for a good bit after. After a moment, her expression
settled, smile fading. You ready?
I guess? I muttered, sighing and casting
a glance at the sky outside, littered with the distant stars

(39:36):
like flecks of white cast acrossa dark canvas.
I'll set the stopwatch. You should be done around the 10
minute mark, but you should start seeing things at 5.
Nothing bad should happen, but obviously if you need anything
I'll be right outside the door. My stomach felt knotted with a
sort of anxiety that I had previously only known being

(39:58):
strapped down to the seat. Of some terrifying amusement
park ride as a child. It's the sensation you get
having locked yourself in for anexperience that promises
discomfort, at least, horror, and maybe fates far worse at
most. I simply nodded steadily,
burgeoning nerves robbing me of my voice for a moment.

(40:22):
Mel nodded back, and after setting up her phone to record
me leaning in against the back of her desk which sat to the
side of the old mirror, she madeher way to the bedroom door.
Have fun. She chirped, casting a final
look my way. And good luck.

(40:43):
All I could manage was a nod in response, the faint tingle of
unease gnawing at my gut. As the door shut behind her, I
felt a small surge of that animal panic one only feels
alone in the dark. It was a strange, contradictory
sort of terror, both utterly isolating, yet feeling as though

(41:05):
every snap of a twig or rustlingleaf might harbor some unseen
threat lingering just out of sight.
I shuddered once more in my seat, this time having less to
do with the temperature, frigid as it was.
It's cold, I thought. This is stupid.

(41:27):
I should just. My mind began running through
every reason to abandon our experiment outright.
Still, I had agreed to try this.It had sounded interesting
before. I was actually sitting in the
dark by myself, and I knew Melinda wouldn't let me hear the
end of it. Besides, once it was done, it

(41:49):
would be her turn to try, which was a funny enough thought,
given her jumpiness to stir somemotivation.
I sighed, locking eyes with myself in the mirror a few feet
ahead, taking stock of my appearance as I settled in for
10 likely very boring minutes, Igrimaced.

(42:10):
I'd never been much of a fan of my appearance.
I knew I wasn't ugly, but it hadalways bothered me how my nose
felt just a tad too big for my face, or how bushy my eyebrows
were. I never spent too long looking
at myself for fear of whatever imperfection I might discover
next. Still, Mel had spent almost an

(42:33):
hour convincing me I looked fine, and that perhaps it might
help to see a crazier version ofme, if anything.
And my resolve faded as curiosity struck.
A twitch from just between my eyes derailed my train of
thought. I paused, staring at the space,

(42:54):
though there was nothing. For a moment, I was certain I
had seen something moving, crawling down between my
eyebrows, across my nose. Still, whatever it was, it was
gone as soon as it had appeared.I sucked in a breath, trying to
steal my heart. I was already questioning myself

(43:17):
whether I'd actually seen anything or in my nervousness,
convinced myself that I had justrelax.
If you freak out, Mel will neverlet you hear the end of it.
It's just a game. My attempts to reassure myself
helped a bit, but as the secondspassed, my eyes locked on their

(43:37):
counterparts in the mirror. I couldn't help but feel the
distinct sort of unease 1 feels when they lock eyes with an
eerie stranger. As the seconds passed, I began
to question myself. Had my eyes always been so
beady? Did I always appear so angry?

(44:00):
Perhaps it was the lighting, I thought, or the angle at which I
sat, but I couldn't help but notice how upset I looked.
My eyebrows seemed to curve, creating a permanent glare.
Lips rested in something nearingA sneer it seemed.
Almost sinister. Somehow, it didn't feel right.

(44:27):
I shifted, swallowing hard as I forced a smile.
I smiled until I was squinting, watching with a mild unease in
the mirror as my face shifted inresponse.
Somewhere in the depths of my gut, I felt a distant, almost
perceivable twinge of dread. I was smiling, obviously, but

(44:49):
somehow even that didn't look right.
I ran my fingers across my face,an odd sense of dysphoria taking
hold as I did so. I couldn't explain it, but I
felt almost disconnected from what I was seeing.
Before me, even my smile looked wrong.
Sarcastic, almost. Is this what she was talking

(45:12):
about? The illusions.
The thought was both comforting and slightly unnerving.
If this was the effect. A strange, mild shift in my
expression. I supposed it wasn't anything
too bad, though there was something deeply disconcerning
about it. I blinked.

(45:35):
Wait, did I blink? I felt my mind beginning to
race, a mild undercurrent of panic beginning to set in.
I'd seen myself blink, but for some reason I couldn't remember
doing it. It's an instinct.
You blink without realizing it. Just relax.

(45:55):
My reasoning was sound, though somehow deep down I remained
unconvinced. I had seen my reflection blink.
There was no way for that to be possible unless I hadn't.
With every passing moment, it felt like like the mirror was
fading away, falling into the background and my reflection

(46:18):
growing more prominent, more pronounced.
It's difficult to explain, even now.
You'll start seeing things. It's different for everyone.
Mel's words played in my head, abating some of the growing
panic with a much needed reminder.

(46:38):
This was supposed to happen, after all.
There was no specific thing I was supposed to see, but the
whole point was to see whatever illusion my mind conjured up.
I guess mine was as imaginative as blinking.
The thought almost made me laughwhen I noticed something.

(47:00):
It was strange, difficult to even put into words at first.
I could see that there was something wrong with my
reflection, yet for a while I couldn't tell what.
It felt as though my eyes were adjusting, yet with every second
my own face seemed less familiarthan before.

(47:21):
Seconds passed with my eyes locked on my reflection, a
silent, eerie tension in the air.
It took a moment before I could tell exactly what felt off about
it. My expression, or rather, the
expression of my reflection. My face, my reflection, was
staring at me, it's face a Placid mask of something like

(47:45):
surprise or shock, eyes wide andunblinking.
My heart threw itself against myribs, thudding with such
intensity I could feel it in my ears.
As initial confusion quickly began to give way, this slow
trickle of panic grew to be a torrent.

(48:05):
I began to make exaggerated expressions in the mirror, my
mind desperately trying to make sense of the situation.
The me in the mirror was unmoved.
It took me several seconds to process the impossible reality
of the situation. This is OK, this is supposed to

(48:27):
happen. The reminders did little to
assuage the swelling sense of animal panic, a primal sort of
instinct that screamed for me tostop, to cover the mirror and
get as far from that room as possible.
I wouldn't let myself do it though, It was nothing more than

(48:47):
an illusion after all, and knowing Mel was on the other
side of the door made the idea of bursting out in a panic a
reluctant one. My reflections expression began
to shift from a wide eyed, stomach churning stare to a look
of morbid disgust. I felt my stomach flip as I

(49:08):
watched its face shift with an unnatural speed and countenance,
its brows arching angrily with an almost cartoonish
exaggeration, a sneer of unwavering disgust peeling
across its lips. Slowly, it began to rise from
its my chair, its expression somehow only growing more

(49:31):
hostile. Nothing more than an illusion.
I tried my hardest to remain convinced of that, yet as the
reflection rose to full height, standing over me in my chair, it
all seemed far too intricate forany illusion that wasn't from
some substance. My jaw twitched as I teetered on

(49:55):
the verge of calling out for Melinda.
The more this progressed, the less I found myself worried
about seeming terrified I was. The other me raised a finger as
if to indicate patience, and a cold dread swept through my
chest as I watched it reach somewhere out of the mirror,
it's hand disappearing from viewfor several moments.

(50:19):
My heart pounded as it watched me, eyes gleaming with a look of
malice that made my blood curdle.
Nothing more than an illusion. It's nothing more than.
There was a faint sound from theside of the mirror, a familiar
hiss of wood. The candle flickered, then went

(50:41):
out, plunging me into a darknessthat seemed to move in on me.
My eyes strained through the sparse light, only the moonlight
oozing through the clouds and open window to illuminate the
scene before me. I felt my mouth fall open in a
silent question as I watched thedrawer Mel used for her makeup

(51:02):
supplies on the desk that sat beside the mirror.
It slid open with a slow, deliberate sort of motion.
From within, I could hear movement.
My eyes darted between my reflection and the desk, my mind
reeling as it refused to make the impossible connection until

(51:23):
I saw what was in her My hands. It was a small, handheld makeup
mirror. I'd seen Melinda use it dozens
of times. I'd even borrowed it on
occasion. Realization struck with the
force of a sucker punch, and I quickly realized I was shaking

(51:44):
despite my best attempts. This was more than a mere
illusion. Somehow, someway, the thing in
the mirror was more than just the effect of light reflecting
back off of a surface. It was tangible, real.
The other me's smile stretched and stretched and stretched

(52:08):
impossibly wide until I could see all of its teeth in an
expression more fit for a shark than anything resembling a
human. I tried to stand, but as I did,
it threw itself back into the chair, eyes locking with mine.
I felt something in my head it'sdifficult to describe, almost

(52:34):
like having another user log into the same computer.
For a split second, there was the feeling that I was
momentarily, somehow locked to it.
My knees buckled and I fell backinto the chair with a painful
thud, my back landing awkwardly against it.
I felt a scream rising in my throat as the panic reached a

(52:57):
fever pitch, mouth already agape, Mel's name on the tip of
my tongue when it crushed the mirror.
I cried out to my right hand, searing with pain, my flesh
burning with the unmistakable sensation of glass digging
deeper into my palm. At a glance, I could see no

(53:18):
blood, but the palm of my hand burned a deep red, several
gashes visible beneath the skin.Our eyes locked.
A primal horror gripped me as I took a shuddering breath, and it
glared back at me with that smile.
Before I could call out scream for Melinda's help, it raised

(53:40):
its bleeding hand to its face, stretching its mouth open,
slowly releasing the contents inside.
The effect was immediate, dueling sensations of warmth and
cooled coated my tongue, and though I didn't understand how,
I could taste the metallic bloodin my mouth, feel the cuts

(54:02):
appearing across my tongue as itsmiled at me.
Sticky ribbons of scarlet salivatrailed from my lips as I was
too afraid to even risk swallowing while my mouth filled
with a rancid taste. I waited with a pounding heart
for the excruciating pain in my throat, struggling to stave off

(54:24):
nausea, unsure of what might happen if I accidentally
swallowed. I took small, deliberate breaths
through my nose, but the pain never came.
It watched me, it's utterly inhumane appearance somehow
seeming satisfied as it took in my reaction.

(54:47):
It isn't trying to kill me yet. The understanding emerged
suddenly from the maelstrom of horror and panic, something in
its expression resonating. It just wanted me quiet.
It's not done with me. The thought was like venom in my
mouth, my mind spinning with theunnerving possibilities of just

(55:11):
what that could mean. None of them were good.
I tried to stand again, but found my muscles felt locked in
place, the attempt making my legs seize with painful cramps.
Oh crap. I tried moving my feet, keeping
my eyes locked on the mirrors, and I could feel my toes moving,

(55:35):
so I wasn't paralyzed it seemed,but as long as my doppelganger
remained seated, I would be too.My mind spun as I tried to think
of some way, any way, to call out.
Its eyes were changing, shrinking until only the pupils
were left. I wanted to run, to scream, but

(55:57):
I knew I could do neither. The sensation of the phantom
glass shifting in my mouth as its sinister grin stretched
served as a warning. Despite its inhumane appearance,
its expression was unnervingly familiar.
It was a nightmarish version of the look I would get right

(56:19):
before doing something I shouldn't.
A grin that usually spoke of mischief, now one of unspeakable
bloodlust. I knew I had to act, but
whatever came next would surely be devastating.
I couldn't have expected what was going to happen.
She rose to her feet in an instant, and my every muscle

(56:43):
shrieked out in searing pain as I repeated the ACT unwillingly.
Her teeth began to chatter with what I can only assume was
excitement, giving that nightmare smile and even more
otherworldly effect those pinprick eyes peering through
me. Slowly, she we raised our hands

(57:06):
to the corner of the mirror. My heart throbbed painfully with
dreadful anticipation as they approached the corner, growing
closer, closer, until the tips of my fingers touched the
surface. It wasn't cool as glass should
be. Instead, I felt a warmth

(57:27):
beneath, as though I were merelytouching the window of some warm
room. It was then that the glass began
to to move. The sensation sent a sickening
chill down my back, raising goose flesh in its wake, the
warm glass beginning to swell outward where my her fingers

(57:48):
touched. I knew immediately what it was
doing, and the icy claws of terror sunk deeper into my mind
with the understanding. It's.
It's trying to get out, I thought, my stomach churning
with a nausea bread from adrenaline.
It's trying to get out of the mirror.

(58:10):
I was right. And as if to confirm my
realization, I watched in horrors 1 by 1.
Her fingers began to emerge, pulling through the glass that
looked more like liquid now. With notable effort, it brought
to mind the image of an animal reaching through an amniotic
sack, and the thought made me want to vomit.

(58:32):
Its flesh was impossibly cold, like ice to the touch, corpse
like, and I wanted nothing more than to pull away.
But I was stuck. My legs locked in the standing
position, one arm locked at my side while the other began to
grasp the hand reaching out to the mirror.

(58:53):
Her grip began to tighten aroundmy fingers with an impossible
strength. I felt something crack in my
index finger and a dull yet searing pain radiated through my
hand. My vision spun with the pain.
I wanted to scream but held it back, my mouth clattering open

(59:14):
and shut in unison with its own,the painful shift of glass
palpable every time I watched, terror washing through me like
floodwaters. As slowly her hand began to
emerge. It pushed upwards as though
moving through the surface of solid water, gripping my wrist

(59:35):
with impossible strength. It pulled me closer, drawing its
face nearer as it tried to pressits way forth.
Ear close to the surface, I could hear its voice.
It was the hiss of death and decaying things, the whisper of
dead fall leaves as winters chill.

(59:57):
Cold hand left the world barren.I have spent a lifetime staring
back at you, watching the pathetic life you lead attached
to this disgusting form. A lifetime whispering, that
voice at the back of your head urging you to cut and trim and

(01:00:21):
break yourself. It's face slowly began to push
through the glass, warping. And splitting as it emerged.
The center of its face emerged from the glass, and for a moment
I could see what it truly was. Its skin was pale, the inhuman
grey of a corpse with divots running through its skull,

(01:00:45):
almost like a pumpkin. Where there should have been a
nose, there is nothing but skin.The only thing that remained was
that smile, stretched impossiblywide, dripping with murderous
intent as it begin to pull its top half through.
Its form quickly returned to themirror version of my own.

(01:01:08):
And you brought me here. Now you'll watch from behind the
glass. I knew immediately what it
intended. Goosebumps charged along my back
as I pictured myself trapped somehow within the mirror.
If this is what was coming from the other side, I couldn't

(01:01:31):
imagine what lurked there. I had to do something.
Screaming was out of the question, as was running.
Any attempt would at best resultin nothing, and at worst my
collapse around the corner of the mirror.
She. It was so close I could feel the

(01:01:51):
unnatural chill radiating from her skin and smell the rancid
scent of decay heavy on its breath.
I noticed quickly how. Its nose.
Leans to the right, the reverse of my own, an odd detail that my
mind seems to grasp and what I felt might be my final moments.

(01:02:15):
It's cold, always cold inside. You'll never know warmth again,
just the cold, harsh touch of the mirror.
It giggled. A cackling sound.
That made it evident that it never made such a noise before.

(01:02:36):
It was then that an idea emergedfrom the midst of the maelstrom
of terror, a Hail Mary from somewhere in the panicked
recesses of my mind. Burning anxiety coiled around my
heart at the thought of what I was going to do, knowing that
failure meant certain death, or worse still, it seemed that or a

(01:02:59):
fate worse was almost sealed. I had no other choice.
I gripped the mirror for dear life, gritting my teeth despite
the pain. The other me was a little more
than halfway out its body with Gray skin.
Almost. Reptilian in appearance, in the
brief seconds before it regainedmy own, I could feel its hot

(01:03:22):
breath of my ear, taste the rot that seems to spill from its
very pores. It ran its tongue along my
cheek, unnaturally long and forked, covered in small barbs.
It's so cold and dark. Misery.
Until the. Moment some wretched, weak thing

(01:03:46):
comes to stare at you. Don't worry, I'll visit often.
Every time I pass a mirror. It was pulling me forward, my
face nearing the surface of the mirror.
Over its shoulder. I prayed my Hail Mary found its
target and with a final breath, I tried to step back.

(01:04:08):
My legs locked and. Instead I found.
Myself slowly tipping backward, there was a split second as me
in the mirror rocked. It's stuck in my grip where the
thing peered down then back at me, confusion playing on its
face. In an instant as I slowly began
to rock backward, it was replaced with a fury that made

(01:04:31):
me want to leap out of my skin. No, it snarled, it's every
feature twisted in a mask of animal rage.
It clamps down on my arm, its mouth large enough to engulf
most of my forearm. I felt it digging in, dole teeth
slowly sinking through my flesh.The pain was excruciating, yet

(01:04:55):
it was almost dulled by the realization that it was too late
as. We began to careen.
Backward, it released its grip, emitting a shriek that haunts my
nightmares until this day. An odd cross between the
haunting wail of a Mountain Lionand the sound of metal in a car
crash. I hit the ground with a.

(01:05:17):
Thud that sent. White waves of pain through me.
The sound of shattering glass immediately followed, and
through blurred vision I watchedas it shattered with the mirror.
Instantly the pain in my mouth was gone, replaced by the sharp
ache of my skull and back as I lay amongst the glass.

(01:05:40):
The door flew open and in a panic I struggled to stand,
cutting my hand on some of the glass.
Mel stared back at me from the open door, her expression equal
parts shocked, confused and horrified.
What the hell? Happened.

(01:06:00):
She almost screamed, taking in the side of my bloodied form
amongst the glass. She quickly crossed to the room,
careful to avoid the worst of the mess as she extended an arm
to me. I was about to explain, panic
still clinging to me like a stubborn fume, prepared to tell
her everything, when I paused. My eyes lingered for a moment on

(01:06:26):
her arm, on the smiling tattoo. She had gotten at.
The end of our junior year. My stomach turned.
I couldn't understand how I had missed it before.
You OK? She asked, still appearing
shocked. Yeah, I I tried to stand up.

(01:06:48):
I I got dizzy. I offered, pulling my sleeve
down to hide the clear bite marks on my arm.
I. I think I should get.
Going I don't feel the best. Should I drive you?
She asked. Making her way towards her
dresser for her keys. I can if you.

(01:07:11):
No, no, no, I'm fine, it'll clear my head.
I said, and before she could dispute I was making my way to
the door. I exited the house, trying not
to seem overly eager. Mel's lingering presence in the
background made my heart pound with nauseatingly familiar

(01:07:33):
anxiety. As I pulled away, my eyes did
not leave the house or her standing in its front yard until
they were long out of sight. When she was, I hit the gas,
speeding home and locking every door and window upon arrival.
She has called me several. Times in the past.

(01:07:55):
Few days even stopped by. I told my parents not to answer.
I'm not planning on answering her calls either.
You see, it wasn't until the moment she offered me her hand
that it clicked. Perhaps my paranoia had raised
my perception a bit, or I was just willing to acknowledge what

(01:08:17):
might have seemed an odd mistakebefore, but now I know for sure.
I'd been there when Melinda got her tattoo, holding her hand as
the design was drawn into her skin.
It had been something simple, just a simplistic :) winking its

(01:08:38):
eye when I arrived home, that. Night after locking.
Myself in my room. I hurried to my phone, scrolling
through old photos for one in particular, praying that I was
mistaken. It was taken the night she.
Got the tattoo? When I saw it, cold confirmation

(01:09:01):
settled in. In the image on my phone, the
tattoo was. Winking with.
Its left eye, no matter how hard.
I rack my mind. From every memory I have of her
that night, it had been winking.It's right, I don't know how.

(01:09:22):
Long my friend has been. Gone, swapped with her
doppelganger from beyond the glass.
What I do know is that thing that was there with me that
night, who invited me to play that game, It was never Mel, I
guess, if there's anything. To be taken from this.

(01:09:44):
It's to be wary of your reflection.
I don't really spend. Much unnecessary.
Time looking in the mirror anymore, you never know who or
what is really looking back. The crisp autumn air filled my

(01:10:14):
lungs. As I stepped out of my car, the
scent of pine needles mingling. With the.
Promise of relaxation The Moonlight Pines Resort, nestled
in the heart of the dense forest, beckoned with its
promises of escape and. Tranquility.
It seemed like the perfect getaway.
From the. Stresses of everyday life and

(01:10:35):
Oasis of serenity in the midst of nature's embrace.
The resort's grand entrance greeted me with towering pine
trees lining the driveway, theirbranches reaching out like
ancient fingers, ready to weave tales of the forest secrets.
The main lodge stood ahead, its architecture blending seamlessly

(01:10:56):
with the natural surroundings asI approached.
The heavy wooden. Door swung open, revealing a
warm, inviting interior. A friendly receptionist named.
Emily. Handed me a brass key with a
small pine cone shaped key chain.
Room 237. Sir, you'll find it.

(01:11:16):
On the second floor, overlookingthe forest, enjoy your stay at
Moonlight Pines. With a smile, I thanked.
Her and headed. Towards the elevator as the
doors closed. I couldn't.
Shake the feeling. That I was being watched.
But I dismissed it as a by. Product of.
My overactive imagination. The hallway on the second floor.

(01:11:40):
Was dimly lit. Casting eerie shadows along the
walls. Room 237's.
Door creaked. Open as I inserted the key,
revealing a cozy and well appointed suite.
The large window offered a. Breathtaking.
View of the pine forest below the moonlight casting an
ethereal glow on the swaying branches.

(01:12:03):
The first night at moonlight. Pines was.
Peaceful. I fell asleep to the soothing
whispers. Of the.
Wind rustling through the trees.However, as the days went by, a
subtle unease began to. Settle.
Over me, the atmosphere shifted from tranquil to tense, as if
the forest itself held secrets it wished to share.

(01:12:28):
One evening as I. Strolled through the resort's.
Expansive grounds. The Pines seemed to whisper in a
language only they understood. The wind carried words that.
Sent shivers. Down my spine, though I could
not decipher their meaning. I tried to dismiss it as a trick
of my imagination, but the feeling of being watched

(01:12:50):
intensified. That night, as I lay in bed, the
room took on an oppressive aura.Shadows danced along the walls,
and the wind outside howled likea mournful spirit.
Just as I was about to dismiss it all as paranoia, A faint
tapping echoed through the room.It was rhythmic.

(01:13:14):
Deliberate. And seemed to come from the
window. Reluctantly, I approached.
The window and pulled. Back the heavy curtains.
The moonlit forest greeted me, but something was off.
Among the Pines, dark figures moved.
Silently. Their shapes undulating like

(01:13:35):
shadows. Panic set in and I stumbled
back, my heart racing. The next day I.
Decided to explore. The resort in search of answers.
Moonlight Pines, once a haven ofpeace, now felt like a labyrinth
of secrets. The staff seemed oblivious.

(01:13:56):
To the. Unsettling undercurrents, their
smiles, masking and unease that lingered just below the surface.
In my quest for understanding, Istumbled upon an old photograph
in the resort's library. Dated decades ago, it depicted a
group of people. Clad in.
Outdated clothing, their eyes hauntingly familiar.

(01:14:21):
Among them was a figure that sent.
A. Chill down my spine.
A man who bore an uncanny resemblance to me.
The library's ancient. Books held.
Tales of an ancient curse whispered to be tied.
To the very soil. On which moonlight Pines stood,

(01:14:41):
legend spoke of a vengeful. Spirit.
Wronged in life and seeking retribution from those who dared
intrude upon its domain. Determined to uncover the truth,
I delved into the resort's history.
It turned out that moonlight. Pines have been.
Built on the remnants of an old village, long forgotten by time,

(01:15:03):
the village had fallen victim toa mysterious affliction and its
inhabitants had vanished withouta trace with a sinking feeling.
I. Realized that the figure in the
photograph bore the same name asmine.
A distant ancestor, perhaps. The curse seemed to have

(01:15:24):
latched. Onto my.
Connection to the village, weaving a web of darkness
around. Me.
As the days passed. The whispers and the Pines grew.
Louder, their voices reaching a fevered.
Pitch. And the tapping on the window
became incessant. Sleep became a distant memory,

(01:15:44):
replaced by haunting dreams thatblurred the lines between
reality and nightmares. My desperation drove me to seek
the help of a local historian, Missus Thompson, who knew the
secrets of Moonlight Pines Without a knowing gaze.
She. Shared the tragic.
Tale of a wrong spirit seeking redemption, trapped in the

(01:16:06):
endless cycle of revenge. Missus Thompson guided me.
To a hidden. Chamber beneath the resort,
where ancient symbols adorned the walls.
The air was heavy with the weight.
Of the past. And a sense of foreboding clung
to the space. She explained that the curse.
Could only be broken. By appeasing the restless

(01:16:27):
spirit, allowing it to find peace at.
Last. Armed with new found.
Knowledge I. Embarked on a journey to unravel
the mysteries of the ancient village, guided by the whispers
in the. Pines.
I discovered a hidden burial ground deep.
Within the forest. The gravestones bore the.
Names of the long. Forgotten villagers, their souls

(01:16:50):
trapped in limbo with each step.The Forest.
Seems to come. Alive, revealing memories of a
time gone. By.
The spirit of the wronged man. From the.
Photograph led me through the shadows, recounting a tale of
betrayal and tragedy that had condemned him to an eternity of
torment. In a clearing surrounded by

(01:17:12):
gnarled trees, I uncovered the truth behind the curse, a solemn
ritual that had been performed centuries ago, sealing the fate
of the village in its inhabitants.
I stood. Motionless.
Oh my God, the Spirit once a. Man of flesh and.

(01:17:33):
Blood had been betrayed by thosehe trusted most, driven by a new
found purpose. I embarked.
On a quest to break the curse and free the tormented souls,
the Ancient. Symbols in the hidden chamber
served. As a guide, and with each
carefully executed step, the aircrackled with energy.

(01:17:54):
The whispers in the Pines reached a crescendo, echoing the
agony of the past as the final symbol.
Was etched into the. Stone floor the forest fell
silent, the shadows retreated, and the.
Wind ceased its mournful. Wail.
A blinding light enveloped the. Clearing.
And for a moment, time itself seemed to stand completely

(01:18:18):
still. When the light subsided, the.
Forest appeared. Different revitalized, as if the
curse had lifted, the spirits ofthe long lost villagers finally
at peace, fading into the ether,the wronged man.
His eyes. Filled with gratitude, nodded

(01:18:38):
before dissipating into the air,returning to moonlight.
Pines the once. Oppressive atmosphere had lifted
the Pines whispered words of gratitude and the shadows that
once. Clung to the corners.
Of the resort retreated the staff once.
Trapped in a facade? Of normalcy now wore genuine

(01:19:00):
smiles, their eyes reflecting a new.
Found Serenity. As I checked out.
Emily the receptionist. Handed me a small pine cone
shaped key chain. This is a token of our
appreciation. For what you've.
Done. Thank you so much, Sir.
Moonlight Pines is so grateful her words carried a.

(01:19:24):
Weight of sincerity. And as I left the resort, the
whispers in the Pines seemed to echo a chorus of thanks driving
away. I glanced back.
At Moonlight Pines, the grand facade now bathed in the warm
light of a new beginning. The ancient forest, once a realm
of darkness, now held the promise of renewal.

(01:19:47):
As the Pines waved farewell in the gentle breeze, I couldn't
help but feel a sense of. Accomplishment.
Knowing that the curse that haunted Moonlight Pines had
finally been laid to rest. I just.
Really hope it. Stays this way.

(01:22:47):
Yeah.

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Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 181 - Backcountry

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}Scary Stories For A Rainy Night - Ep. 181 - Backcountry