Haunted Forest Story

Hey there Dark Daddy, I new at this and have been wanting to submit stories from my life for along time. Many of which I will keep to myself, as I am currently putting them into a paranormal comic book. For the record, I am a 27 year old mom. This story is one of my earliest memories that string together the paranormal happenings inmy life. Your video wanted a haunted forest story, and I have one for you.

I was very young, probably six or seven, but maybe as young as 5. I have always lived in Southeast Michigan and everyone here camps, we headed four hours north- the exact area I don’t remember and was too young to care. It was my Aunt’s cabin. An aunt that I had an intimate connection with. My mother’s family comes in two forms, extreme Baptists, and witches. Yeah. I know. Witchcraft is a path that runs in our family and I talked to my Witchy Aunts about scary things I didn’t understand. This is important later. The ride felt like an eternity, with my four siblings, my mother, and my one aunts family in the next car. It was nighttime when we finally got there. I remember us driving slowly up a paved road, you gotta drive slow at certain times of night because deer are everywhere. We round a corner and staring at us, unmoving, is a massive buck. My brothers marvel at it, saying how tasty an eight point buck would be. I stare at this animal, it didn’t look.. ┬áRight. I felt like crying. I’ve seen deer, many times, at this age. I felt, disturbed. His eyes weren’t right and his mouth hung slightly agape. It was odd behaviour. We drove around it, but I couldn’t stop staring. The gaze of this animal followed my eyes as we passed by. I stared, afraid and accusingly, like I felt its existence was a lie. The buck smiled at me. The corners of its mouth curling unnaturally around its face. Not something a deer does. I felt horrified, yet validated. I was an old child, already seeing too much of human beings, and so exposed to the horrors of nature. I felt heat releasing from my body, and my soul screaming at it, telling it to GET BACK. The encounter beginning to end was was only about two minutes, but we all know how time has the sadistic tendency to slow itself and prolong our fear in moments like these. I wish that was the end of it.

We all slept in the living room, exhausted in our sleeping bags. The cabin was freaking awesome. Two stories, small, but the layout was super neat. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I remember sitting up amongst the sleeping bodies and in the darkness, it stared back. A black mass towering outside the large windows of the cabin, staring me down, watching my entire family sleeping in the living room. It was very human, but I remember being confused by its long forearms. It was so dark from it being cloudy I couldn’t make anything out. I was already on edge from seeing that odd buck. It wasn’t until decades later that I would connect the dots between the odd buck and this humanoid figure. I felt more empowered, it was less scary to confront a strange man than a smiling buck. A single pane of glass was separating us. With one throw of its body, it could break it and get us. The fact we had ten people versus one black shadow man didn’t factor into my judgement. I felt my family was in danger. I felt angry, I wasn’t sure why. But in my fear I whispered harshly “Get. Back. STAY AWAY FROM MY FAMILY.”

And, like the kid I was, ran to the bathroom and stayed there. I know my behaviour doesn’t make sense, but I was six years old. I did my business quickly and stood at the sink thinking of what to do. I looked for a weapon, but not a real weapon, i told myself, because i could get in trouble. I took a nail file and eventually left the bathroom, creeping along the floor and pressed against furniture.

I was gunna fight em. Whatever it was. I was gunba fight him. There was no shadows at the window.

The air was buzzing, I felt the shadowman was still there. Somewhere, watching.

Sleep took me eventually. The morning I woke up everyone had already been awake. My older cousin gave me a bowl of cinnamon cereal. I told him. “I saw a shadowman outside the window last night.” He hesitated, uncomfortable before he smiled and said. “Didja flip him off?” I laughed and said no. He looked and me and smiled telling me quietly “Remember what my mom says? Don’t tell people stuff like that, it scares them. Don’t tell Cate.” My sister cate was two years older but didn’t have the same problems I had. I should add I am the youngest of a large family.

The day goes on and we play and scream and run around in the woods near the cabin. Two neighbour kids in the cabin down the road joined us. The cabins are very spaced apart. Our cabin had a shed thirty feet from it. The area was fairly open and the adults were building a fire as the younger ones acted like kids and had a contest to see who could find the vest stick and had swordfights.we ran back and forth across the dirt road, playing in puddles and being our age. I remember seeing my aunt near the fire pit behind the cabin, being the whimisical woman she was, she struggled with a lighter. It wouldn’t light. My siblings and cousins weren’t around but I could hear their yelling and laughing. My aunt looked around, snapped her fingers and make the flame on the lighter jump to life. I giggled, peering at her like a guilty pixie from the side of the cabin. She told me to shut up and go play.

I looked past her and saw my sister standing near the shed. I ran toward her, and she turned and bolted, I picked up the pace thinking it was a game of “keep away from the obnoxious little sister” Cate’s favourite game at that age. When I rounded the corner of the shed. No one was there.

There was so many trees, I knew she was hiding behind one of them. I called out LOUDLY to her. “YOU CALL ME CHUBBY BUT YOURE THE UGLY ONE.”



Nothing stirred.

“Cate?” I called out. She liked to scare me. So I walked around to peer around trees. I kid you not, I only took a few steps, and looked around then the shed and cabin was gone.

I stopped and turned, keeping my feet planted. Michigan has a lot of forested areas and parks, and I’ve gotten lost before, so I kept my feet planted so I know the direction I came from as to not get turned around.

I turned my body to face the direction I knew I came from. Did I wall further than I thought? I was shook. No way I ventured so far from the shed. I walked in the direction I came. No shed between the tress.

I felt panic. If I was lost, I know my sister was lost. The sun was high in the sky. I knew I was going to be fine, I was good at getting myself out of situations like this. I absorbed a lot of skills from my siblings, so I was a street wise kid. I saw a large, knobby tree, the kind that come alive in cartoons. The curves in it reminded my of the tree from disney’s Pocahontas. I hugged the tree. Tree hugging was a thing I did. Oddly enough my niece did it wheb she was toddler, and my daughter hugs trees and talks to them. This wasn’t a behaviour any of us were taught. Its was just something I did. I believed trees had feelings.

“Shh.” A whisper came from my left. I froze. I remember seeing a yellow haze drifting between the trees. I wasn’t afraid of it, just perplexed. “I think I’m lost.” I said out loud. No one was there. I didn’t know why I spoke outloud or to whom, the haze got larger. I hugged the tree next to me.

“HEY!” A loud male voice yelled. A tall man in ripped denim stood fifteen feet away. I became afraid. I couldn’t speak. I don’t know why.

I stared at him.

“HEY!” the voice came again. My eyes widened. I heard a voice, but the man’s lips were not moving.

“Come here.” The voice had more malice.

“No..” I whispered quietly. I knew he wasn’t someone I should listen to. Something was wrong. My stomach was churning. I felt myself sweat.


I clenched my eyes shut. I felt a voice inside me say “You’re in danger.”

“NO. Go away. You can’t hurt me.”

I open my eyes and see the manmoving towards me. But, he isn’t walking like a person. He’s lurching, with one arm tucked to his side. His cheek bones are uneven, the skin is warped. He isn’t a real person. I back up and turn my head. The golden fog brushed againat my skin. It felt comforting even in this odd moment. I was full of fear yet knowing i was goimg to be ok. When I look back, he was gone. This intensified my fear, it rose instantly and gripped my throat. If I could see him, I knew which way to run- away from him. I started screaming. Just screaming and making as much noise as I could. I felt a tug in a direction, like an instinct.

I moved in that direction continuing to scream. I knew my voice would carry and alert someone. I ran for what felt like forever. Finally I bumped into the neighbour his face was distorted with concern. My mom was right behind him.

I was bombarded with questions. I was two miles from the cabin. Two miles? My adult brain is wracked by the fact. I took only a few steps from the shed, and somehow ended up two miles from the cabin. I told my mother I was following cate into the woods. She stared at me, confused. You didn’t follow anybody, cate was across the street with the other kids.

I was bawling. That was impossible. I saw my sister run behind the shed and followed her.

My aunt looked at me concerned. “They tried to take her away.” She said to my mom knowingly. My mother hissed something nasty for her to be quiet. “Nobody is trying to take you away. Why did you wander off by yourself?”

I didn’t answer my mom. I shouldn’t tell people things like that. About the man that wasn’t a real man. Things like that scare people.

As an adult, knowing what I know now. I think I encountered a skinwalker. I believe the buck, the shadow, and the thing pretending to be a man were the same entity. I also wonder about the kind voices and gold fog, I believe there was a forest spirit guarding me. I know stories of skinwalkers they don’t just disappear like that, they are persistent. Before we left the cabin. A large black dog stared at me from the woods. It had wolf-like featured and golden yellow eyes. I didn’t feel afraid. I remember smiling at it from the car and waved. I felt thankful. I still feel thankful. I never went to that cabin again. But I have seen that wolfdog spirit since this experience. My aunt tells me it’s a guardian spirit. We have them protect us from malicious entities. Damn, I am so grateful for that.

The Old Choptank Ghost

I’m here again with another strange tale. Maryland is full of strange stories, myths, and legends, but one of the most culturally important facts of my state is: you can’t throw a rock without hitting something that is haunted. I grew up on the Eastern Shore in Caroline county, which meant I spent a lot of time running around in the woods and on, in, or near the Choptank River. Looking back on it, that river was filthy and dangerous and the fact that I nor any of my friends got ill or drowned is a miracle inofitself. Regardless, I remember the first time I went to my best friend’s grandma’s and was blown away by her beautiful home right on the river. It was gorgeous and the property, nestled against the woods and just outside of town, was near enough to Denton that we could always find some trouble to get into. Unfortunately for us, trouble was a lot closer than we had anticipated.

One night in the early fall, I decided to spend the night with a new friend who would eventually become like a sister to me. To protect her, let’s call her Victoria. She hates that name, so naturally I had to use it. Victoria lived with her grandmother and it wasn’t until after graduation that we had become close. The minute I stepped on the property for the first time, I was blown away by it. And it’s beauty distracted me initially from the sense of being watched that seemed to intensify the closer night came. The afternoon wore on like any other. We watched movies, talked about colleges, and stuffed our faces with snacks. But as night began to fall, Victoria looked at me and said “Hey, did you know the woods behind our house is haunted?”

“Really?” I asked, looking out the kitchen window. At this time I was already intrigued by the woods, but the aspect of the possible paranormal activity just made me more excited and nervous. I’ve had strange encounters in the woods before, even had a possible run in with the goatman once, so at the time I had a strangely apprehensive love of the woods.

“Yeah, they say you can hear drums being played and that sometimes you’ll see Indians running around.” She said. “Want to go for a walk in there?” I looked up at the sky and noticed that it was just about fully dark out. So, hopped up on pixie sticks, soda, and a stupid false bravado, I cheekily laughed and asked her where they kept the flashlights.

Once we managed to find a working flashlight, we set out on our adventure. Off in the distance we could hear the marching band practicing across the river at the highschool. With a smile, I mentioned that the band could be the source of the drums, or it could be cars going over the bridge a mile down river. Victoria shrugged and looked at me strangely as we entered the woods. Confused, I wrote it off and followed her in.

The difference between the tail end of sunset in the yard and the nearly impenetrable darkness under the trees was unlike anything I had ever seen. Worried, I kept close to my friend as we walked deeper in. As we walked I found out things about her she hadn’t told anyone else, most of which is private, but as we spoke, I notice movement in the dark. Every time I looked, whatever it was was gone. At this point I was nervous but excited. I pointed it out to Victoria, who said she was seeing it too.

We pressed farther in when I began to hear something. It was a strange thud-like sound that boomed in the distance. I listened, trying to hear the rest of the band but other than the distant booming noise, the woods were eerily quiet. I looked at Victoria who kept looking around even more nervously than before. Finally I asked her, “What’s wrong?”

She looked at me for a moment in surprise, like she had forgotten I was with her. Before she could open her mouth to speak, everything went silent. The deafening quiet was like a blanket on the world. We both turned our heads simultaneously to look down the path we had been walking on. There, standing in the middle of the path ahead of us, was … Nothing. We could clearly see that something was supposed to be there, but the only way I had ever been able to describe what we saw was a 7′ tall void. No dark shadows, no physical form, just nothing.

From that nothing came the very real sense that I was not welcome there. I could feel this thing getting angrier by the second so finally, I leaned over to Victoria and asked her, “You see that too right?”

“Yeah.” She said, her voice barely a whisper. “We need to leave.”

To our credit, we didn’t run. She and I simply turned around and began to walk back the way we came. After we walked for about 10 minutes or so, we were 20 meters from the head of the trail and could see the light of the yard lamps when Victoria stopped suddenly. I turned to look at her. She was hunched over, her whole body shaking as she mumbled under her breath. I didn’t look back up the path to see if the thing had followed us. I focused only on my friend.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again, putting my arms around her shoulders to try and pull her forward. If you’ve ever dunked your arm into an icy pool in the middle of winter, you have some idea of what the air felt like at the back of Victoria’s neck. She panicked and thrashed a bit as I yanked my arm back.

“Don’t, don’t, he doesn’t want me to leave again.” She said, shivering and crying. Determined, I reached over her again and tried to pull her. Victoria was a tiny thing, barely a buck twenty and I, being much taller and stronger, could have easily moved her on any given day. Except this day. Victoria did not budge. She didn’t stumble or even lean forward. I may as well have been trying to move the oak tree next to us. She cried out again and I removed my arm. “He’s angry.” She said before she started mumbling to herself again. I stood there, unable to help as my friend tried to free herself. Feeling at a loss, I simply stood next to her, pressing my arm against hers and trying to give her what ever support I could. When I did that, I could feel a looming pressure at my back, that cold and icy feeling slithering down my spine like cold acid. But I refused to move.

After what seemed like an eternity, Victoria stumbled forward, almost as if she had been pushed. I jumped into action, grabbing her arm and steadying her as we ran the remaining distance to the head of the trail. Once out under the stars, we relaxed a bit and slowed to a fast walk as we made our way back to her yard and the safety of home. Victoria was so out of breathe and exhausted, she looked as though she had run a marathon. Whatever it was had sapped her of her strength.

Curious, I glanced back at the woods. And to this day, part of me wishes I hadn’t. Behind us, about 10 paces back, hovered a tall column of smoke. In it we’re tendrils of red that danced like fire. I could barely make out a face in the smoke that glared at me and shook me to my core. I stared for a moment, unsure if the thing was going to attack or not. I managed to turn and began to bustle my friend back into her yard even more quickly. I tried to take her into the house but she refused and instead ran to her car. Once we were both inside, she grabbed her rosary that her grandfather had given her and began to pray. I looked back beyond the yard, but the spirit was gone, thankfully. After she had calmed down, Victoria explained that her grandfather had been a priest and an exorcist. When she was little, she’d had issues with the spirits in the woods. In order to protect her, her grandfather blessed their property and told her to stay out of the woods. And until now, she had.

Fast forward about ten years and I found myself sitting in a car outside those same woods. I had told some of my friends about the encounter and they were eager to have an experience of their own. I was reluctant to go back in there. I hadn’t been back in these particular woods since the incident, despite spending a lot of time on the property and growing close to the family, and I wasn’t eager at all to return. When we parked, I got out of the car and froze. That same feeling of ‘you’re not welcome’ hit me like a wave and I stared at the head of the trail Victoria and I had taken. It was black, pitch black and off in the distance I could hear the thud-like booming sound of what I can only assume were drums. I got back into the car, made a fool of myself in a panic, and happily watched the treeline fade away in our tail lights while my friends grumbled in the front seat, having been denied their adventure. I didn’t care. I had gotten the distinct feeling that this time, the spirit in the woods would not be as merciful…

I don’t mind the forest. I love the trees and the sounds and smells and the over all energy. But I also know where I’m not welcome and I will never go back into those woods. Aside from the danger of sink holes, mud traps and dangerous undertows in the river, there are lingering forces that we can not begin to comprehend that lurk just beyond our senses. Sometimes they’re happy for the company you bring, and sometimes they’d rather you leave and never come back.

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