Samantha (Corrections Officer)

Not the peaceful kind of quiet you expect out in the woods, but something heavier. No wind through the trees, no birds chirping, not even the usual rustle of small critters in the underbrush. Just silence, thick and unnatural. Even the dogs were weird about it. Normally they'd be jumping out of the truck, tails wagging, ready to sniff every inch of the place. But today?

Not the peaceful kind of quiet you expect out in the woods, but something heavier. No wind through the trees, no birds chirping, not even the usual rustle of small critters in the underbrush. Just silence, thick and unnatural. Even the dogs were weird about it. Normally they'd be jumping out of the truck, tails wagging, ready to sniff every inch of the place. But today?

They slinked out slow, ears flat, tails tucked low like they knew something I didn't. I shook it off. Just tired from the drive, I told myself. The road out here is long and boring, and my mind had a habit of playing tricks when I was exhausted. I grabbed my gear, hauling it toward the cabin, the gravel crunching loud under my boots in the stillness. Inside, it felt worse.

They slinked out slow, ears flat, tails tucked low like they knew something I didn't. I shook it off. Just tired from the drive, I told myself. The road out here is long and boring, and my mind had a habit of playing tricks when I was exhausted. I grabbed my gear, hauling it toward the cabin, the gravel crunching loud under my boots in the stillness. Inside, it felt worse.

The cabin has always been a little cramped, filled with old hunting photos and mounted deer heads from trips long before I was born. But now, the walls felt like they were pressing in. The air was thick, like the place hadn't been aired out in years, even though we'd just been here last season. It smelled like must, gunpowder, and something else. Something rotting, faint, but there.

The cabin has always been a little cramped, filled with old hunting photos and mounted deer heads from trips long before I was born. But now, the walls felt like they were pressing in. The air was thick, like the place hadn't been aired out in years, even though we'd just been here last season. It smelled like must, gunpowder, and something else. Something rotting, faint, but there.

My parents barely noticed, busy unpacking their stuff and chatting about the morning hunt. I didn't say anything. I've always been the one in the family with a thing for the paranormal, and I knew if I brought up how weird the place felt, they'd just chalk it up to me spooking myself. I got the small room near the back of the cabin. It wasn't much.

My parents barely noticed, busy unpacking their stuff and chatting about the morning hunt. I didn't say anything. I've always been the one in the family with a thing for the paranormal, and I knew if I brought up how weird the place felt, they'd just chalk it up to me spooking myself. I got the small room near the back of the cabin. It wasn't much.

Two twin beds squeezed into a space barely big enough to fit them, a rusty rack piled with camo jackets, boots, and two small backpacks hanging off the side like they'd been there forever. I tossed my bag on one of the beds and sat down, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that clung to me like humidity. But it didn't go away.

Two twin beds squeezed into a space barely big enough to fit them, a rusty rack piled with camo jackets, boots, and two small backpacks hanging off the side like they'd been there forever. I tossed my bag on one of the beds and sat down, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that clung to me like humidity. But it didn't go away.

That night, I went to bed early, figuring some sleep would clear my head. My parents were two doors down and the dogs were settled by the fire, finally relaxing a bit. I left my phone on the nightstand, face down, and tried to let the familiar creaks of the cabin lull me to sleep. It didn't last. At exactly 11.44 p.m., I snapped awake.

That night, I went to bed early, figuring some sleep would clear my head. My parents were two doors down and the dogs were settled by the fire, finally relaxing a bit. I left my phone on the nightstand, face down, and tried to let the familiar creaks of the cabin lull me to sleep. It didn't last. At exactly 11.44 p.m., I snapped awake.

No sound, no movement, nothing that should have jolted me out of sleep, but my heart was already pounding like I'd been running. The room was freezing, colder than it had any right to be, and my breath came out in shallow puffs. I knew something was wrong before I even opened my eyes. But when I did, there she was, standing by the rack, half hidden in the shadows, was a tall female figure.

No sound, no movement, nothing that should have jolted me out of sleep, but my heart was already pounding like I'd been running. The room was freezing, colder than it had any right to be, and my breath came out in shallow puffs. I knew something was wrong before I even opened my eyes. But when I did, there she was, standing by the rack, half hidden in the shadows, was a tall female figure.

She wasn't just tall, she was unnaturally tall. Her head brushing against the low ceiling, limbs too long, joints bent at odd angles like she'd been folded wrong and put back together. Her form was black but somehow transparent, like a shadow that shouldn't be there. But it was her face, or what I could see of it, that chilled me to the bone.

She wasn't just tall, she was unnaturally tall. Her head brushing against the low ceiling, limbs too long, joints bent at odd angles like she'd been folded wrong and put back together. Her form was black but somehow transparent, like a shadow that shouldn't be there. But it was her face, or what I could see of it, that chilled me to the bone.

her head was tilted to the side like her neck had been snapped and her eyes god her eyes were tiny points of pale light glowing faintly in the dark locked on to me and then she spoke come on she whispered

her head was tilted to the side like her neck had been snapped and her eyes god her eyes were tiny points of pale light glowing faintly in the dark locked on to me and then she spoke come on she whispered

her voice dry and brittle like leaves scraping against old wood take a backpack and come with me i couldn't move my mind was screaming but my body was frozen locked in place by pure raw terror what i croaked my voice barely more than a whisper who are you She didn't answer, she just repeated it, her voice lower now, more insistent. Come on, take a backpack and come with me.

her voice dry and brittle like leaves scraping against old wood take a backpack and come with me i couldn't move my mind was screaming but my body was frozen locked in place by pure raw terror what i croaked my voice barely more than a whisper who are you She didn't answer, she just repeated it, her voice lower now, more insistent. Come on, take a backpack and come with me.