These are 4 Scary Appalachian Mountain Horror StoriesLinktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepyStory Credits:►Sent in to https://www.justcreepy.net/Timestamps:00:00 Intro00:00:18 Story 100:15:50 Story 200:29:09 Story 300:47:41 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 #appalachiantrail 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀
Chapter 1: What haunted experiences did Evan and Anna face in the Appalachian woods?
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.
Chapter 2: What strange occurrences happened during the backpacking trip?
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.
Chapter 3: How did Evan and Anna react to the eerie sounds in the forest?
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.
Chapter 4: What unsettling discoveries did they make at the campsite?
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.
Chapter 5: What was the significance of the strange symbols and markers?
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.
Chapter 6: How did the fog and confusion affect their sense of direction?
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.
Chapter 7: What did they encounter that led to a terrifying chase?
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.
Chapter 8: What chilling revelation did Evan discover about the missing hikers?
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.
Maybe they're all curled up in a den somewhere, I said shrugging. And then it came. A sound echoed back to us, but it wasn't a coyote. It started low, like a whistle caught in the wind, and then climbed into this piercing, unnatural screech that seemed to stretch too long, like it didn't need to breathe. It came from up the ridge behind us. Not far. Anna stiffened. What the hell was that?
I froze. Bobcat, maybe, I said. But I knew that wasn't right. I've heard bobcats. This sounded higher, like metal tearing, like a scream that didn't know how to stop. Anna backed closer to the fire. That was not a bobcat. I didn't answer. I just scanned the trees. That part of the ridge is dense with undergrowth, especially in fall.
The fog had started to roll in heavy, thickening between the trunks like smoke. My skin prickled, and I could feel the warmth of the fire only in theory. We didn't stay up much longer. We doused the fire, zipped into the tent and lay there listening. I kept my headlamp and my knife by my side. Anna fell asleep eventually.
I didn't, because I kept hearing something moving just past the tree line, something that clicked when it walked, something that stopped moving every time I held my breath.
and sometime after midnight i swear to god i saw two pale eyes watching from just beyond the trees they didn't glow they just reflected i don't know when i fell asleep must have been sometime after three when the movement outside finally stopped or maybe it didn't Maybe I just passed out from pure exhaustion, adrenaline finally giving up on me. Either way, I woke up with a start just before dawn.
That hazy blue light was barely bleeding through the nylon of our tent, and my mouth felt dry, like I'd been grinding my teeth all night. Anna was still asleep beside me, but she was twitching, her legs jerking under the sleeping bag like she was dreaming of running. And then I heard it again. That clicking.
It was faint this time, slower than the night before, like hooves gently tapping against stone or wood. I held my breath. It was circling us. I didn't dare look through the mesh this time. I just lay there, paralyzed, trying to convince myself it was a deer, maybe a curious buck, maybe something explainable. Then I heard a voice. It sounded like Anna, but it was coming from outside the tent.
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