Just Creepy: Scary Stories
5 Scary Skinwalker Horror Stories Told In The Rain | Park Ranger, Scary Stories for Sleep
Fri, 08 Nov 2024
These are 5 Scary Skinwalker Horror Stories Told In The Rain | Cryptid, Scary Stories for Sleep Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: ►Sent in to https://www.justcreepy.net/ Timestamps: 00:00 Intro 00:00:18 Story 1 00:13:25 Story 2 00:25:34 Story 3 00:38:22 Story 4 00:49:20 Story 5 Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe Business inquiries: ►[email protected] #scarystories #horrorstories #skinwalker #wendigo #cryptids #JustCreepy 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀
Chapter 1: What is the introduction to the first scary story?
I knew taking the job near the Great Smoky Mountains was going to be lonely, but I never imagined it would be this... silent. My first week out here at the fire lookout tower was almost peaceful. I woke up every morning to a crisp, cold sunrise, the trees stretching endlessly into a green sea, with nothing but the occasional rustling of wind and the chirps of birds to keep me company.
Chapter 2: What happened during the first night in the fire lookout tower?
The isolation was what I signed up for, but the first few nights, that's when it all started. The radio was an old relic, static crackling out of it in the background whenever I had it on. At first it was just that, harmless static, but after a few nights I started hearing something underneath it, faint whispers, so soft I thought it was just the wind. I ignored it.
I mean, it was probably just the equipment acting up, right? This place wasn't exactly state-of-the-art. But then the whispers started to change. They didn't sound like static anymore. It was like someone, no, like several people, were trying to speak, their voices distant and weak. I would sit up in bed, staring at the radio across the room, trying to make sense of it.
Chapter 3: How did the whispers change to cries for help?
It would only happen late at night, always when I was alone in the dark. I told myself it was nothing, but the sound sent chills creeping up my spine. A few nights later, the whispers turned into cries, cries for help. They were soft, almost pleading, like someone was lost and desperate. and they were coming from places far out in the forest, places I knew no one could be.
I checked the maps, tracing the calls back to dead-end canyons and abandoned trails. These were areas where no hiker should be wandering, especially not at midnight. I told myself it had to be some kind of prank, maybe someone messing with the frequency. But deep down I knew it wasn't. One night, as I was drifting off to sleep, the radio suddenly crackled to life, louder than ever.
I heard a voice, my voice. It was calling for help, desperate and terrified. Help me, please, it said, and I swear my heart stopped. It wasn't just similar to my voice. It was my voice.
Chapter 4: What terrifying experience did the narrator encounter at the tower?
i felt frozen my eyes locked on the radio which crackled again before going silent outside the forest seemed to hold its breath the wind stopped and all the usual night noises fell away i was alone and yet i wasn't something was out there I went to the window, staring out at the forest bathed in pale moonlight. At first, everything seemed still.
Then, something moved, a shadow shifting at the edge of the clearing. My heart pounded as I strained to see. A figure emerged from the tree line, slowly making its way toward the base of the tower. I blinked, trying to make sense of it. The way it moved, it wasn't right. Its limbs jerked, as if they didn't quite fit together. And then I saw its face.
It was my face, twisted, hollow-eyed, with a grotesque, unnatural smile. It stared up at me, and I swear it knew I was watching. It started climbing the stairs, each step echoing louder and louder. My radio crackled again, the voice, my voice, begging for help. I felt a scream rise in my throat, but no sound came out.
My flashlight was in my hand before I even realized it, the beam of light flickering as I pointed it down the stairs. The figure didn't stop. It kept coming, the smile never faltering. Panic took over. I did the only thing I could think of. I turned, ran to the opposite side of the tower, and without thinking, I jumped. The branches below caught me, scratching, tearing, as I tumbled down the slope.
Chapter 5: What events transpired after the narrator fled the tower?
I didn't care about the pain. I just knew I had to get away. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't me. And it wanted something I wasn't willing to give. I don't know how I survived that jump. I woke up at the bottom of the hill, bruised and aching all over. My head was pounding, and my body felt like it had been dragged through a thorn bush.
It was still dark, the only light coming from the moon overhead, casting long shadows through the trees. For a moment, I thought maybe it had all been a nightmare. But then I heard it, the radio crackling from the tower, my own voice echoing out into the night, still calling for help. I knew I couldn't stay there. I forced myself to my feet, my legs shaky beneath me.
Chapter 6: How did the narrator escape into the forest?
I had to get as far away from that tower as possible. I started moving, half running, half stumbling through the woods. Every branch that snapped under my feet made me jump, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. The forest felt different now. It wasn't just the quiet, it was the way the shadows seemed to move, shifting just out of the corner of my eye, like something was watching me.
I had no idea where I was going, I just knew I had to keep moving. The ground was uneven, roots and rocks tripping me up as I ran. My flashlight was barely working, the beam flickering in and out, but I didn't dare stop to fix it. I could still hear the radio, faint now, but there. My own voice, calling my name, pleading for help. It made my skin crawl.
After what felt like hours, I stopped to catch my breath, leaning against a tree. My lungs burned, and my legs felt like they could give out at any moment. I listened, trying to hear anything over the sound of my own breathing. The forest was silent. Too silent. And then, from somewhere in the darkness, I heard footsteps. Slow, deliberate, getting closer. My heart skipped a beat. It was here.
That thing. The one that looked like me. I turned off my flashlight, hoping the darkness would hide me. I pressed myself against the tree, trying to stay as quiet as possible. The footsteps were getting closer. I could hear the crunch of leaves, the snap of twigs, each step echoing in the stillness.
My breath caught in my throat as I saw it, a shadow moving through the trees, its head turning slowly from side to side, like it was looking for something. Looking for me. I wanted to run but my legs wouldn't move. I was too scared. I watched as the figure got closer, the moonlight catching its face.
my face but its eyes were empty like black holes and that smile that horrible twisted smile was still there it stopped its head tilting slightly like it was listening I squeezed my eyes shut, praying it wouldn't find me. Then suddenly, it turned and started walking away, back into the woods. I waited, my whole body trembling, until I could no longer hear its footsteps.
I didn't know why it had left, but I wasn't about to stick around to find out. I forced myself to move, every muscle aching as I started running again, deeper into the forest. I didn't know where I was going, but anywhere was better than here. The whispers started again, faint at first, then growing louder.
They were all around me, echoing through the trees, my own voice calling my name, over and over. I covered my ears, trying to block it out, but it was no use. It was like the forest itself was speaking, trying to draw me in, trying to make me stop. But I couldn't. I wouldn't. I had to get away, no matter what. I didn't stop running until I saw the flicker of a campfire in the distance.
I stumbled toward it, my legs barely holding me up. A group of hikers looked up as I burst into their camp, their faces a mix of shock and confusion. I must have looked like a madman, covered in dirt and scratches, my eyes wild with fear. I tried to explain but the words wouldn't come out right. They didn't need to understand. They could see the terror in my eyes.
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Chapter 7: What was the encounter with the hikers at the campfire?
They let me stay by the fire, and for the first time that night, I felt a small sense of safety. Sitting by the campfire with the hikers felt like the first breath of fresh air after being underwater too long. The warmth of the flames chased away some of the chill that had settled into my bones. The hikers asked questions.
who was i where had i come from but i could barely get the words out all i could do was mutter about the tower about the voice that wasn't mine they exchanged uneasy glances but let me stay it was enough for me to feel just a little less alone The firelight flickered, casting long shadows around the clearing.
I tried to tell myself I was safe now, that whatever had been following me couldn't come this far. But deep down, I knew that wasn't true. The forest felt alive, like it was listening, watching. and the shadows beyond the fire's glow seemed to shift and move on their own. I couldn't sleep, even though the other hikers eventually lay down, exhausted.
My body was sore and aching, but my mind wouldn't let me rest. Every rustle of the leaves, every crackle of the fire made me jump. My eyes kept drifting to the edge of the clearing, expecting to see that figure again, my face, smiling that horrible smile. I tried to keep my eyes on the fire, tried to focus on the warmth, the light, but I could feel the forest pressing in on me.
Then I heard it again, my voice, faint but clear, coming from somewhere in the darkness. Help me, please. My stomach twisted, and I felt all the warmth drain from my body. It was the same words, the same tone, like a broken record repeating over and over. I turned looking at the hikers, but they were all asleep, oblivious. I was alone again with the voice. I stood up, my heart pounding.
The voice was getting louder, echoing through the trees. I could hear it from all directions surrounding me. My own voice, pleading, desperate. I stumbled backward, almost tripping over one of the sleeping hikers. I wanted to wake them. To make them hear it too, but something stopped me. A sense of dread, like if I acknowledged it. If I said it out loud, it would make everything worse.
The voice grew louder still, until it was almost deafening. I pressed my hands to my ears, trying to block it out, but it was no use. It was inside my head, rattling around like a trapped insect. I backed away from the campfire, my eyes darting around the clearing, searching for the source. And then, at the edge of the firelight, I saw it. The figure.
My face, twisted and wrong, staring at me from the shadows. Its mouth moved and the words came out. My words. Help me. Please. It stepped closer and I could see the darkness in its eyes, empty and hollow. The smile on its face widened, stretching too far, like it was enjoying my fear. I wanted to scream, but my voice caught in my throat.
I turned and ran, sprinting past the sleeping hikers, away from the campfire, deeper into the forest. Branches whipped at my face, the underbrush clawing at my legs, but I didn't stop. I could hear it behind me, the footsteps, the voice, still calling my name, still pleading for help. The forest closed in around me, the darkness swallowing me whole.
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Chapter 8: What horrifying realization did the group face in the canyon?
whatever that thing was it was still out there watching waiting and as we drove the only thing i could think was that we should have listened to the warnings we never should have come to the utah desert reed kept the pedal floored and the truck bounced over the rough desert terrain each jolt making me clench my teeth
I kept looking over my shoulder, half expecting to see that thing right behind us. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. The headlights cut through the darkness, but the desert seemed endless. It was like no matter how far we drove, we weren't getting any closer to safety. Are we even going the right way? I asked, my voice shaky. Reed didn't answer.
His eyes were glued to the road. If you could even call it a road. It was just sand, rocks, and the occasional scrubby bush. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His jaw clenched. I could tell he was just as scared as I was, maybe even more. "'I don't know,' he finally said, his voice barely audible. "'I think so.'
The truck hit a particularly deep dip, and I nearly smacked my head on the roof. I groaned, clutching at the door handle to steady myself. I glanced out the window, and for a second, I thought I saw something moving alongside us. My breath caught in my throat, and I squinted, trying to make it out. It was just shadows, I told myself." Just the desert playing tricks on me.
But deep down, I didn't believe it. Reed must have seen it too, because he suddenly swerved, the tires skidding on the loose sand. Did you see that? He shouted, his voice cracking. I didn't want to answer. I didn't want to admit that, yeah, I'd seen it. Something keeping pace with us. Something that shouldn't be able to move that fast.
The truck fishtailed and for a second I thought we were going to flip. But Reed managed to get it under control, and we kept going, the engine roaring as he pushed it as hard as it could go. My hands were shaking, my fingers numb as I gripped the dashboard. The laughter had stopped, but the silence was almost worse.
It felt like the entire desert was holding its breath, waiting for us to make a mistake. Suddenly, the truck's headlights caught something ahead, a shape, standing right in the middle of our path.
reed cursed under his breath and slammed on the brakes the tires screeched the truck skidding to a stop just a few feet from the figure my heart felt like it had stopped completely it was the same thing we'd seen before a twisted version of reed staring at us with those empty eyes what What do we do? I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. Reed didn't answer.
He just stared at it, his face pale, his eyes wide. The figure took a step toward us, its movements jerky, unnatural. My stomach turned, and I felt a wave of panic rising in my chest. We had to get out of there. We couldn't just sit here and wait for whatever that thing was to reach us. "'Go!' I shouted, my voice cracking. "'Just drive!'
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