Aaron Miller
speaker
190 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Jun 2025
last heard Jun 2025
Aaron Miller’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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Appearances
Just Creepy: Scary Stories · 4 Scary DEEP WOODS Stories to Listen to While Outside · 4 Jun 2025
podcast
No heat, as if I hadn't built a fire at all. Yet I clearly remembered the flames, the flickering warmth that had briefly calmed my nerves. Pulling my GPS from its holder, I stared at the screen. Still unchanged. Still mocking me with impossible numbers. I rebooted it again, desperate now. When it returned, the coordinates were exactly the same as before, unchanged since yesterday morning.
A rush of anger surged through me. I tightened my grip until my knuckles whitened, resisting the urge to smash it against the nearest rock. I'll figure this out, I whispered to myself, barely audible. Methodically, I packed camp, placing trail cameras around the area as markers. Each camera faced outward, programmed to record any movement.
If something strange was happening here, I'd at least capture evidence of it. Then, with forced confidence, I set off again.
i moved uphill cautiously careful to observe every feature every twisted tree limb every angular stone to mark my path i tied strips of bright orange flagging tape around branches every fifty yards or so counting each step deliberately one hundred yards two hundred five hundred Yet the elevation felt stagnant. I could swear I was climbing. My legs ached with the effort.
But the view behind me didn't match that effort. When I glanced backward, the trail markers glowed neon bright against the shadowed forest. Ahead, the landscape never shifted significantly. My breathing quickened, anxiety tightening my chest. After almost two hours, dread settled over me like a heavy cloak.
Ahead, an orange flagging tape dangled limply from a branch, fluttering faintly as if mocking my efforts. It was my own tape, I recognized the sloppy knot I'd hastily tied earlier. Somehow, despite careful navigation and ascending steadily, I'd circled back to the exact same place. I sat down hard on a fallen log, pulse hammering in my ears. How was this even possible?
No mapped trail here formed such a perfect invisible loop. I pulled out the map and unfolded it frantically, my fingers trembling. The path was straightforward, ascending clearly to a defined ridge. No loops, no intersections, nothing that explained this impossible circuit. I'm stuck, I said aloud, my voice sounding thin and distant in the unnatural silence.
Panic edged closer, like a predator pacing in the darkness. I stood abruptly, determined to break the cycle. Picking a new direction, I marched straight uphill, ignoring the trail altogether, pushing through thick underbrush and fallen logs. Branches clawed at my clothing, scraped my face, but I pressed on. After another half hour, relief swelled briefly in my chest.
I seemed to be making real progress, finally breaking free. But that relief was short-lived. Ahead, the trees thinned slightly. I stumbled into a small clearing. My stomach lurched as I recognized the angled boulder and the faint circle of ashes from my morning fire.
my campsite exactly as i'd left it hours earlier greeted me silently mocking my efforts a crushing despair settled in this wasn't possible it couldn't be the fading daylight cast strange elongated shadows across the campsite I sank down by the fire pit, hands shaking uncontrollably. Then, somewhere behind me, a faint movement caught my eye. My heart seized in my chest.
I turned slowly, dread pooling in my stomach. Far back among the trees, a shape moved briefly, large, quick, but utterly silent. No sound of snapping twigs or brushing leaves accompanied it. I squinted, trying to track it through the fading light. But whatever it was had vanished as swiftly as it appeared. I stepped closer, peering into the dimness.
Something deep in my bones warned me to turn away, to retreat, to hide in my tent. Instead, I pressed forward, desperate for answers. About twenty yards from camp, I froze. A fallen log lay gouged by massive claw marks, fresh, deep, and disturbingly spaced. No bear or mountain lion I knew could have left something like this. Instinctively, I backed away, returning quickly to my campsite.
I grabbed the radio, fumbling the controls as panic took hold. This is Aaron Miller. Can anyone hear me? My voice shook uncontrollably. I'm trapped out here. Something's wrong with the trail. I keep looping. I... I'm being tracked by something.
static crackled sharply then silence aaron miller repeat your coordinates a distant voice finally broke through distorted by static we're trying the radio died abruptly leaving nothing but the heavy silence around me my breathing came in ragged gasps as darkness enveloped the forest completely
I built another fire hurriedly, piling branches until flames flickered high, casting shifting shadows across the campsite. I took comfort in the illusion of safety it provided, though deep down, I knew it offered none. Before crawling into my tent, I whispered into my trail camera, desperation evident in my voice, ''If someone finds this, something isn't right out here. I'm not alone.
I don't know what it is, but it knows I'm here.'' I zipped my tent shut, clutching a knife tightly. Sleep came reluctantly, plagued by strange half-dreams of being watched, hunted, and trapped in an endless loop. When I awoke again it was pitch black, and I knew instantly something was standing just outside the tent.
My eyes snapped open in total darkness, heart hammering as adrenaline surged through me. Outside the thin nylon walls of my tent, something shifted slowly, weight pressing softly against the ground, audible but unidentifiable. I remained utterly still, barely breathing, every muscle rigid. The cold grip of dread coiled around my spine as I strained to pinpoint the location of the sound.
A faint scraping noise began, low, rhythmic, like stone dragged slowly against stone. My pulse thundered in my ears. Carefully, inch by inch, I reached toward the zipper of my tent, my knife clutched so tightly my knuckles burned. A thin slice of moonlight leaked through the opening, illuminating the quiet forest beyond. I edged closer, peering through the narrow slit.
Shadows played oddly across the familiar campsite, distorted by faint moonlight. The fire I'd built earlier had burned down to smoldering coals, but the sound, the scraping, continued steadily, just beyond my line of sight. Forcing myself to move, I unzipped the tent slowly, silently, and leaned forward just enough to look out. At first, the darkness revealed nothing unusual.
Then my eyes adjusted, and I saw it. Something large crouched low near the edge of my camp, barely distinguishable from the night around it. My breath caught sharply in my throat. It wasn't shaped like any animal I knew. Even crouched, it appeared unnaturally tall, long-limbed, and emaciated.
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