Evan Mallory

I've never posted anything like this before, but I can't get it out of my head. Maybe writing it down will help. I don't care if you believe me. Hell, part of me still doesn't believe it myself. But something followed us in the woods last weekend, and whatever it was, it wasn't human. And it damn sure wasn't an animal either. I'm a senior in college, pre-med.

I've never posted anything like this before, but I can't get it out of my head. Maybe writing it down will help. I don't care if you believe me. Hell, part of me still doesn't believe it myself. But something followed us in the woods last weekend, and whatever it was, it wasn't human. And it damn sure wasn't an animal either. I'm a senior in college, pre-med.

I grew up in western North Carolina, about 40 minutes from the Tennessee border. My parents still live in a small house tucked off a gravel road about 15 minutes from the Appalachian Trail. We're used to isolation, spotty power, no internet unless you're lucky enough to park near the library, no neighbors for miles. It's the kind of place people think is peaceful until the sun goes down.

I grew up in western North Carolina, about 40 minutes from the Tennessee border. My parents still live in a small house tucked off a gravel road about 15 minutes from the Appalachian Trail. We're used to isolation, spotty power, no internet unless you're lucky enough to park near the library, no neighbors for miles. It's the kind of place people think is peaceful until the sun goes down.

Anyway, between school and work and stress, I hadn't been home in months. When I saw a break in my schedule, I jumped on it. And when my girlfriend Anna said she was free that same weekend, I figured why not take her somewhere real, somewhere without traffic or phone notifications, just quiet. Anna grew up in Atlanta. She's the kind of person who's never had to check for ticks or hang a bear bag.

Anyway, between school and work and stress, I hadn't been home in months. When I saw a break in my schedule, I jumped on it. And when my girlfriend Anna said she was free that same weekend, I figured why not take her somewhere real, somewhere without traffic or phone notifications, just quiet. Anna grew up in Atlanta. She's the kind of person who's never had to check for ticks or hang a bear bag.

But she's adventurous. I told her I wanted to take her on a backpacking trip, just a short two-nighter on an old loop that connects to a forgotten spur of the Appalachian Trail. Through this place my granddad always warned me to avoid called Walker's Hollow. She thought the name was creepy in a fun way. I figured it'd make the trip more memorable.

But she's adventurous. I told her I wanted to take her on a backpacking trip, just a short two-nighter on an old loop that connects to a forgotten spur of the Appalachian Trail. Through this place my granddad always warned me to avoid called Walker's Hollow. She thought the name was creepy in a fun way. I figured it'd make the trip more memorable.

We parked at a barely marked pull-off late Friday afternoon. There was one other car there, older model with dust all over the windows, no people in sight. I double-checked the topo map, shouldered my pack, and we headed in. The trail was overgrown in parts, like it hadn't been maintained in years.

We parked at a barely marked pull-off late Friday afternoon. There was one other car there, older model with dust all over the windows, no people in sight. I double-checked the topo map, shouldered my pack, and we headed in. The trail was overgrown in parts, like it hadn't been maintained in years.

Oak and poplar trees pressed in tight from either side, and thick patches of rhododendron arched over the path like tunnels. The further we walked, the quieter it got. Not in the peaceful way, either. More like the woods were listening. I didn't say anything. I didn't want to freak Anna out.

Oak and poplar trees pressed in tight from either side, and thick patches of rhododendron arched over the path like tunnels. The further we walked, the quieter it got. Not in the peaceful way, either. More like the woods were listening. I didn't say anything. I didn't want to freak Anna out.

We passed a couple weird markers nailed to trees, planks of faded wood with what looked like white paint or maybe old chalk markings. Most were too worn down to read. One had what looked like a symbol carved into it, a triangle with a circle in the middle. Someone had scratched it out with a knife. I told myself it was just an old forestry mark, nothing unusual.

We passed a couple weird markers nailed to trees, planks of faded wood with what looked like white paint or maybe old chalk markings. Most were too worn down to read. One had what looked like a symbol carved into it, a triangle with a circle in the middle. Someone had scratched it out with a knife. I told myself it was just an old forestry mark, nothing unusual.

After about five miles we reached a decent campsite near a little creek. There was a fire ring someone had built years ago, half collapsed and full of soggy leaves. I cleaned it out while Anna unpacked, and we managed to get a small fire going before dark. Dinner was basic. Dehydrated chili mac and two lukewarm granola bars.

After about five miles we reached a decent campsite near a little creek. There was a fire ring someone had built years ago, half collapsed and full of soggy leaves. I cleaned it out while Anna unpacked, and we managed to get a small fire going before dark. Dinner was basic. Dehydrated chili mac and two lukewarm granola bars.

But the air was clean, and the forest smelled like wet leaves and wood smoke. For a little while, it felt good to be out there again. Anna said the woods were way quieter than she expected. She asked if there were coyotes out here, and I laughed. Then I showed her my old party trick. When I was younger, I used to mimic coyote howls to see if I could get them to respond.

But the air was clean, and the forest smelled like wet leaves and wood smoke. For a little while, it felt good to be out there again. Anna said the woods were way quieter than she expected. She asked if there were coyotes out here, and I laughed. Then I showed her my old party trick. When I was younger, I used to mimic coyote howls to see if I could get them to respond.

Not exactly useful, but I was good at it. So I stood up, cupped my hands, and let out a long, shrill howl across the creek bed." She rolled her eyes. That was loud as hell. I grinned. Wait for it. We stood in silence, listening. Nothing. Just the hiss of the creek and a breeze shaking the branches overhead. I tried again, this time throwing in some yips at the end for good measure. Still nothing.

Not exactly useful, but I was good at it. So I stood up, cupped my hands, and let out a long, shrill howl across the creek bed." She rolled her eyes. That was loud as hell. I grinned. Wait for it. We stood in silence, listening. Nothing. Just the hiss of the creek and a breeze shaking the branches overhead. I tried again, this time throwing in some yips at the end for good measure. Still nothing.