Unknown Narrator

Mike and I carried on with our lives, dating, moving in together, eventually tying the knot, and we never once brought up the memory of that strange night. It became an unspoken agreement. If we didn't talk about it... Maybe it would fade away. Every so often, though, I caught him glancing at me in the dark, like he was pondering the same questions I was too afraid to voice.

Mike and I carried on with our lives, dating, moving in together, eventually tying the knot, and we never once brought up the memory of that strange night. It became an unspoken agreement. If we didn't talk about it... Maybe it would fade away. Every so often, though, I caught him glancing at me in the dark, like he was pondering the same questions I was too afraid to voice.

Did we really bump into something serious out there, or was it all in our heads? Years passed in relative peace. We settled into a small apartment, got steady jobs, even started hosting Saturday brunches for our friends. Life felt almost normal, until the evening we came across a television program about Ted Bundy. It wasn't the usual true crime special I might have tuned out.

Did we really bump into something serious out there, or was it all in our heads? Years passed in relative peace. We settled into a small apartment, got steady jobs, even started hosting Saturday brunches for our friends. Life felt almost normal, until the evening we came across a television program about Ted Bundy. It wasn't the usual true crime special I might have tuned out.

Something about the interviewer's tone made me pause. I can't explain it, but I felt a chill as Mike and I looked at each other. he froze mid-bite of his dinner remote still in hand on screen bundy talked with a disturbing calm as though he was describing a casual outing then he was asked about the night he almost got caught in provo canyon my heart began to pound so violently

Something about the interviewer's tone made me pause. I can't explain it, but I felt a chill as Mike and I looked at each other. he froze mid-bite of his dinner remote still in hand on screen bundy talked with a disturbing calm as though he was describing a casual outing then he was asked about the night he almost got caught in provo canyon my heart began to pound so violently

I thought it might drown out the sound from the TV. At first, I refused to believe it could be our story, but he described luring a girl there, disposing of her body, and hearing a pair of hikers heading up the trail. He mentioned that the man practically stepped on the victim, and for a moment, he thought he'd been found out.

I thought it might drown out the sound from the TV. At first, I refused to believe it could be our story, but he described luring a girl there, disposing of her body, and hearing a pair of hikers heading up the trail. He mentioned that the man practically stepped on the victim, and for a moment, he thought he'd been found out.

But then, inexplicably, those two people just turned around and vanished into the darkness. I looked at Mike, waiting for him to say something, hoping he'd crack a joke or reassure me it was a coincidence. But he stared at the screen, jaw clenched, eyes wide as if he'd seen a ghost. In that silence, realization slammed into me.

But then, inexplicably, those two people just turned around and vanished into the darkness. I looked at Mike, waiting for him to say something, hoping he'd crack a joke or reassure me it was a coincidence. But he stared at the screen, jaw clenched, eyes wide as if he'd seen a ghost. In that silence, realization slammed into me.

I felt my pulse jump to my temples, and a wave of nausea washed over me. It couldn't be anyone else. We were the ones who stumbled into that nightmare. It had to be the same night, the same canyon, the same detail of stepping on something that didn't belong there. I don't remember how long we sat in that stunned fog before one of us reached over and muted the TV.

I felt my pulse jump to my temples, and a wave of nausea washed over me. It couldn't be anyone else. We were the ones who stumbled into that nightmare. It had to be the same night, the same canyon, the same detail of stepping on something that didn't belong there. I don't remember how long we sat in that stunned fog before one of us reached over and muted the TV.

All I recall is the weight of what we'd learned pressing down on us like a crushing vice. Neither of us knew what to say. It was a minute, maybe two, but it felt like an hour. We just stared at each other, grappling with the nauseating certainty that we had been yards away, mere steps away, from one of the most vicious predators in modern history.

All I recall is the weight of what we'd learned pressing down on us like a crushing vice. Neither of us knew what to say. It was a minute, maybe two, but it felt like an hour. We just stared at each other, grappling with the nauseating certainty that we had been yards away, mere steps away, from one of the most vicious predators in modern history.

From that night on, our memory of the midnight hike changed forever. Up until then, we could treat it like an odd camping story gone wrong, something we'd overinflated in our imaginations. But with the truth out in the open, I started having these jolting flashbacks in the middle of the night. I'd dream I was back on that trail, surrounded by blackness, hearing phantom footsteps behind us.

From that night on, our memory of the midnight hike changed forever. Up until then, we could treat it like an odd camping story gone wrong, something we'd overinflated in our imaginations. But with the truth out in the open, I started having these jolting flashbacks in the middle of the night. I'd dream I was back on that trail, surrounded by blackness, hearing phantom footsteps behind us.

In my nightmares, Mike and I turned around, and we weren't alone. I'd wake up gasping, unable to shake the possibility that Bundy had been mere inches behind a tree, watching us, maybe even considering how easily he could take us both. Mike became quieter in the weeks that followed. He stopped going to the climbing gym, lost interest in the adventure sports he used to love.

In my nightmares, Mike and I turned around, and we weren't alone. I'd wake up gasping, unable to shake the possibility that Bundy had been mere inches behind a tree, watching us, maybe even considering how easily he could take us both. Mike became quieter in the weeks that followed. He stopped going to the climbing gym, lost interest in the adventure sports he used to love.

One day, he admitted he couldn't stand the sound of gravel anymore because it reminded him of our rush to the car that night. That confession actually made me feel less alone in my fear. I wasn't the only one consumed by it. We never reported anything to the police because by then it was long in the past. Bundy was already locked away, no longer a threat to anyone.

One day, he admitted he couldn't stand the sound of gravel anymore because it reminded him of our rush to the car that night. That confession actually made me feel less alone in my fear. I wasn't the only one consumed by it. We never reported anything to the police because by then it was long in the past. Bundy was already locked away, no longer a threat to anyone.