This story happened a few years ago. It was Christmas Eve, and I had gone out to the countryside to attend a party at the family farmhouse.
I was 16 at the time of the incident, and I was an avid camper. The property I was in was surrounded by a dense network of trees. My cousin, who we’ll call Joe for the sake of this story, asked me to come out camping with him, and two of his friends: Mike and Casey. I knew them both since we attended the same high school, so I thought it’d be a fun getaway from all the noise.
My older cousins had already gone out into the woods, and from my experience, I knew the celebrations would go on until late at night. I packed up and gave Joe the all clear. A few minutes later, we were in an old pickup driving into the woods.
I was no stranger to these woods. I had been to the place on a few occasions before, so I wasn’t really scared or anything. After about 15 minutes of driving, we came across a clearing, not wanting to venture out too deep, Joe told me to setup camp. We started a fire shortly after the tents were pitched. We had pitched four tents forming a perfect quadrilateral around the fire.
After a few hours of talking and drinking, we decided to call it a night, and crawled into our tents. We forgot to put off the fire. And I still regret that decision.
At four in the morning or something, I heard a strange rustling noise coming from a hundred or so yards away from the tents. I peered out through the flap, and I saw a dark figure fumbling around the bushes. Since we were still within telephone range, I texted my cousin and asked him whether he had heard the noises.
He replied in the affirmative, and told me to stay in my tent. Thinking it was just a junkie looking for a fix, I went back to sleep. But I couldn’t sleep, the sounds only got louder. About five minutes after I’d drifted off into sleep, I heard heavy laboured breathing coming right outside my tent. Without a second thought, I burst through the canvas with my aluminum baseball bat, and struck whoever was making those noises as hard as I could.
But there was nothing there, I had been swinging my bat in the air. I could still hear the voices but this time they were far away. Casey who got up due to the commotion came out of his tent and asked me what was going on. I told him about the breathing and that figure I saw.
The two of us went out to investigate, the sounds were coming from a clearing a few metres ahead. What we saw next disgusted us. It was a tall lanky man crouched up on two legs. He was eating a deer, tearing its innards out, and consuming it with contentment.
Casey let out a scream, and gestured me to run. I didn’t waste time, in a few minutes I was running through the woods as fast as I ever could. Eventually, we reached the camp, Joe and Mike were up. We told them what happened, and in a matter of minutes we packed up, and floored the truck through the woods. We reached the farmhouse a short while later.
We didn’t tell our uncle what happened. We just said we encountered a few unruly tourists, and didn’t want to stay there anymore. We avoid talking about it. I’ve heard stories of zombies before, and when you think of it, I think what Casey and I saw that day, was actually a member of the undead.