These are 4 Creepy True Deep in the Woods Horror StoriesLinktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepyStory Credits:►Sent in to https://www.justcreepy.net/Timestamps:00:00 Intro00:00:18 Story 100:18:27 Story 200:31:17 Story 300:47:35 Story 4Music by:►'Decoherence' by Scott Buckley - released under CC-BY 4.0. www.scottbuckley.com.auhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wM_AjpJL5I4&t=0s► Myuu's channelhttp://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Musichttp://bit.ly/2f9WQpeBusiness inquiries: ►[email protected]#scarystories #horrorstories #deepwoods #strangeencounters 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀
Chapter 1: What happens when a group of friends camps in the woods?
It was late afternoon when we finally reached Mulberry Mountain, far beyond the well-worn paths of Ozark National Forest. Tyler had insisted on leading us deep into the backcountry, promising solitude away from the usual weekend campers. The five of us, me, Tyler, Rachel, Marcus, and Jess, set up camp in a small clearing ringed by dense stands of white oak and hickory.
Chapter 2: What eerie sounds do the campers hear at night?
The trees pressed close, their leafy canopy filtering sunlight into muted streaks across the forest floor. as we pitched our tents marcus joked about bears and mountain lions but rachel's eyes flickered nervously toward the shadowy woods i smiled reassuringly telling her it was all part of the adventure still an odd tension hung in the air the kind you only notice in hindsight
Chapter 3: What is the significance of the 'Cursed Land'?
By the time we'd gathered around the campfire, the sky had turned a deep orange, the sun dipping behind distant ridges. Jess pulled out her phone, snapping photos of our silhouettes against the fading light. That's when we first heard it. Two sharp whistles echoed faintly from the trees, crisp and clear, like someone calling their dog back home. Tyler raised an eyebrow, glancing around the circle.
Chapter 4: Who goes missing from the campsite?
Anyone else hear that? Marcus shrugged. Probably another group of campers nearby. Jess leaned forward, smirking. Two quick whistles, right? Maybe it's Morse code. Dot, dot. They're trying to tell us something important, like they're out of marshmallows. We laughed, but Rachel stayed quiet, eyes fixed uneasily on the darkening woods.
Chapter 5: What strange occurrences happen during the hike?
The fire crackled low, sparks drifting upward into the gathering darkness. Tyler spoke up, voice quieter than usual. You know, I read some weird stuff online about this area. Some hikers claimed people have disappeared out here, east of Shores Lake toward Dun Hollow. Said something about it being bad ground. Marcus rolled his eyes. Come on, Tyler, those stories are just meant to scare tourists.
Chapter 6: What do the campers discover in the old fire lookout tower?
But Tyler didn't smile. He poked at the fire with a stick, causing embers to swirl upward. Just figured you guys should know. I glanced at Rachel. Her eyes had gone wide, reflecting firelight as she stared silently into the trees. Darkness settled fully, bringing with it a dense, oppressive silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of firewood.
Chapter 7: What chilling message do they find in the ranger log?
I felt strangely exposed sitting in that clearing, ringed by trees whose trunks vanished into endless shadow. Just before we turned in, the whistles came again, clearer this time, cutting through the night air like sharp blades. Jess tensed, sitting up rigidly. Okay, seriously, that's closer, isn't it? Her voice held an edge of unease.
Chapter 8: What is the fate of the campers in the woods?
Tyler stood slowly, flashlights sweeping over the edges of the camp. The beam illuminated nothing but empty forest. Rachel whispered, I don't think anyone else is out here. Jess grabbed her audio recorder, determined to capture evidence, walking hesitantly toward the trees at the edge of camp. We watched her slender figure blend into darkness, illuminated only by her dim flashlight beam.
She paused several yards out, holding her recorder aloft. Silence returned for a moment, the forest seeming to hold its breath. Then, clearly and distinctly from somewhere right behind Jess, came two short, piercing whistles. She whirled around, flashlight jerking wildly through shadows, voice cracking with panic. Who's there? Tyler and I sprinted over, flashlights slicing through the gloom.
We reached Jess, who stood trembling, eyes wide with disbelief. I swear to God, she whispered urgently, someone was standing right behind me. We searched the immediate area, beams casting stark shadows across empty underbrush and rough bark. There was no sign of anyone having been there at all. No footprints, no broken twigs, no disturbance of any kind. Rachel pulled Jess close, her voice shaking.
We should go back. Let's leave first thing tomorrow. Tyler nodded grimly. Yeah, we'll head east, catch that trail loop back toward the car. We returned to camp, subdued and wary. The fire had burned low, leaving glowing embers that cast faint, uncertain light across our anxious faces.
As I crawled into my sleeping bag, I tried to push away the unsettling image of Jess frozen in fear, alone in the darkness. I lay awake, listening intently. Sometime around midnight, drifting into a restless sleep, I swore I heard it again. Two sharp whistles, drifting softly through the trees. closer than before, just beyond the boundary of our camp.
At dawn, we packed quickly, driven by silent urgency to leave behind the tension of the previous night. The morning air felt colder, sharper, as we hiked east toward White Rock Mountain. Tyler assured us this lesser-known trail would loop us back safely to our car, but his voice carried uncertainty I hadn't heard before. By late morning, the forest thickened significantly.
The trail grew narrow, fading into patches of weeds and tangled underbrush. Occasionally we passed signs of old campsites, rotting tarps tangled in brush, fire pits scorched black. filled with leaves and debris. These weren't normal campsites. They looked abandoned hastily, left behind as if someone fled. Marcus stopped, crouching to inspect something half buried in dirt.
He lifted a rusted pocket knife, Its handle warped and melted, as if exposed to tremendous heat. He turned it slowly in his fingers, frowning deeply. What would make something like this? Marcus asked, his voice tight. Tyler didn't answer. He glanced down at his map, brows furrowed, eyes shifting uneasily across the forest.
Rachel moved close to Jess, whispering something reassuring but unconvincing. The woods around us had grown silent, absent the usual rustling leaves or birdsong. We set camp early, uneasy fatigue draining the strength from our limbs. Tyler placed trail cams around our perimeter, small electronic eyes watching silently from sturdy trees.
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