These are 5 Terrifying DEEP WOODS Scary Stories For Sleep Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: ►Sent in to https://www.justcreepy.net/ ►https://tinyurl.com/3nthx5mn ►https://tinyurl.com/454p23a4 Timestamps: 00:00 Intro 00:00:18 Story 1 00:03:48 Story 2 00:10:10 Story 3 00:25:40 Story 4 00:37:22 Story 5 Music by: ► Myuu's channel http://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Music http://bit.ly/2f9WQpe Thumbnail art: ►Just Creepy Business inquiries: ►[email protected] #scarystories #horrorstories #deepwoods 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀
Chapter 1: What creepy experience led to a fear of the woods?
After hearing all the stories on here, I wanted to write down my own experience that still freaks me out whenever I think about it. Just down the road from where I used to live a few years ago in southeast Australia, there's an opening that leads into about 100 acres of woodlands and bush. I frequently went there when I was younger to ride, camp, and do the usual outdoorsy things.
One night, around 11.30pm, I was out driving with my girlfriend. Since we were in the area, I decided to show her the woodlands.
she loves everything related to nature and because it was summer the night was extremely warm i parked my car so the headlights were shining into the trees as we weren't planning to go very far and it was pitch black inside we both sat there chatting having a smoke and generally relaxing
She was sitting on a sort of plastic-covered map of the area, and I kept watching the trees because I had a strong feeling that something wasn't right. I've read posts where people mentioned feeling like they were in danger, even though nothing around them seemed out of place, and I had that exact same feeling.
Every sense was on high alert and my adrenaline was up, yet I couldn't see anything unusual in front of me. After lighting another cigarette to calm my nerves, I scanned the tree line again and realized it looked different than before. It took a moment of staring into the dark to notice that moonlight was now hitting some grass where there had previously been a black shape blocking the light.
A shape I had assumed was just a tree. I get goosebumps just typing this. But the only way to describe the next moment is that all sound suddenly ceased, leaving everything dead silent. A few seconds later, a horrible feeling of dread washed over me. I saw something move in the dark along the path. It was crawling toward us on all fours.
I've seen nearly every animal in the outback, and we don't have large predators like they do in the US or Europe. But I somehow knew this thing was a predator. It wasn't hiding, it was deliberately crawling toward us. I don't know if my girlfriend saw it at first because I couldn't look away. As soon as it reached the edge of the car's headlights, it rose up onto two legs and just stared at us.
i'm six foot four and this thing was about a metre taller than me with arms far too long almost reaching the ground its fur looked off-white almost yellowish and in the dim light its head resembled that of a dog or a wolf I couldn't move while it stared at me, but then my girlfriend gasped, snapping me out of whatever was preventing me from thinking straight.
I grabbed her arm, sprinted to the car, slammed the doors, and sped away as fast as I could. We were both too terrified to speak until a good half hour later. We've discussed it many times since then. The feeling we had was like what I imagine a rabbit feels when it sees a wolf or fox watching it. the realization that this creature could end us with absolute ease if it chose to.
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Chapter 2: What terrifying sight was witnessed in the woods?
At that point, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I got the distinct feeling I was being watched, like some animal was stalking me. I decided to turn back. I shouted and made loud noises in hopes of scaring off whatever was there, then cautiously headed to where I'd left my shovel. It was gone. I was certain I hadn't misplaced it.
Being neon orange, it would have been impossible to miss if it were still there in the open. That was enough to spook me. I said, screw it, and booked it back to my car. When I jumped into the driver's seat, I saw my girlfriend was awake and looked alarmed. She told me that just a few minutes earlier, she'd seen a child emerge from the forest and stare at her from several feet down the road.
She described him as a boy of maybe seven or eight, with a dirty face and ragged clothes. She said she was worried the boy might be lost, but the way he looked at her made her uneasy.
she mentioned he didn't seem scared or curious but just stared with a gaze that seemed off for a lost child she also said she wanted to notify the police but wasn't comfortable leaving the car or calling out to the kid who had disappeared by then I hadn't yet told her about what happened by the ruins, but my heart started pounding.
While I was looking up the non-emergency number for the nearest sheriff's office on my phone, my girlfriend suddenly screamed my name. I looked up to see a boy, similar to the one she described. standing at the edge of the woods, just a few feet from the passenger door, staring directly at us.
Then I noticed another boy, identical in appearance, right outside the back window, peering into the back seat. That was it for me. I turned on the car and floored it out of there. After driving for a few seconds, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the boys disappear into the forest as quickly as they'd appeared. I sped for who knows how long until we were well clear of those woods.
We ended up calling the sheriff's office, and they mentioned there had been similar sightings of children along that stretch of road by other drivers. Though I never got a very good look, I agreed with my girlfriend that something was off about those kids. Their behavior didn't match that of normal lost children.
Maybe they lived on a secluded property and were just playing in the woods or trying to steal our stuff. I've heard of feral children, which might explain their dirty faces and ragged clothes. Later, at the cottage, I googled similar paranormal sightings.
Apparently, melonheads, a band of feral children with enlarged heads, have been spotted in Michigan's forests only a couple of hours from where we were. They might also have been black-eyed kids. Although when I asked my girlfriend if she noticed black eyes, she said she was sure the boys' eyes weren't black. She would have remembered that.
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Chapter 3: What happened during the drive to Petoskey, Michigan?
The whole thing still creeps me out to this day, and on our trip home from Petoskey, we ended up taking a completely different route, just to avoid going through those woods again. I remember how the gravel road seemed to stretch on forever that evening, the sky tinted with the kind of murky orange that shows up right before night swallows the last bit of daylight.
I was crammed in Uncle Grant's old SUV with Aunt Beverly and my cousin Jeff, all of us worn out from the long drive. We were heading to this supposedly cozy cabin near a lake in northwestern Pennsylvania for my cousin's wedding weekend. Everyone acted excited, but there was this electric tension in the air that I couldn't quite place.
When we finally turned off the main road and reached the property, I got this weird sensation in my stomach. The cabin looked older than any photos we'd seen online, its porch slanted at an angle, and the wooden steps creaked under our feet.
something about the way the trees surrounded the clearing made me feel like we were being watched naturally i told myself it was just exhaustion aunt beverly teased me saying i was always looking for spooky thrills i tried to laugh it off but i caught myself checking over my shoulder more than once Inside, the place had this stale odor that reminded me of forgotten storage rooms.
Each floorboard groaned whenever someone shifted weight. The walls were practically bare, except for a few faded pictures of the lake pinned up here and there. When I flicked the overhead light, it flickered ominously before settling into a weak glow. Uncle Grant declared it, Charming. Meanwhile, I found myself eyeing odd scratches on the front door.
Long, jagged marks that didn't look like normal wear. I pointed them out, and he shrugged. Said something about a previous tenant's dog, but it didn't feel right. We set about unpacking a few groceries. The fridge rattled like it might give up at any second. Some insects scurried across the counter, vanishing under a faded dish towel.
I jumped back, feeling my skin crawl, but Jeff just laughed and handed me a paper towel to shoo them away. I tried to stay calm, though every clink and squeak in that house made me more on edge. The wind began to pick up, and the windows rattled, almost like an unseen hand was testing them from the outside. After a quick dinner, we all headed for bed, but I wasn't sure if I'd sleep at all.
Uncle Grant stayed up to watch a late show on TV, muttering about wanting to smoke a last cigarette. I fell into a restless doze on the living room couch, with the sound of crickets outside blending into the hum of the old TV.
some time passed before i noticed uncle grant quietly slipping out the front door i pulled a blanket over my shoulders trying to drift off again i must have dozed because the next thing i knew uncle grant was back inside locking up with more gusto than usual He whispered my name, and I sat up, feeling my pulse thrum harder than it should.
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Chapter 4: What unsettling events occurred at the cabin?
Each time a shadow shifted, my senses went on high alert, but I never saw anything conclusive, just suggestions of movement and gloom. It was enough to keep me on edge until we finally shut the car doors and turned onto the gravel road.
the moment we got a few miles away my chest felt marginally lighter the oppressive heaviness receded and normal conversation began to trickle back uncle grant muttered something about never returning to that place aunt beverley looked out the window as if she couldn't believe the last two nights had happened Jeff just stared at his phone, scrolling aimlessly, trying to distract himself.
We all needed distance from whatever had been going on. When I got back to my own place, I reached out to my friend Martina. She's the type who devours cryptid documentaries and loves scouring obscure internet forums. I expected her to laugh off my story or tease me for getting jumpy. Instead, she listened intently, occasionally nodding with a grave expression.
The moment I mentioned a voice that sounded exactly like Uncle Grant's, she cut in and described stories she'd read about creatures that mimic people's voices to lure victims out at night.
although i'd heard rumors of such folklore before hearing it tied so closely to my own experience made my stomach knot martina explained how these tales often surface in mountain regions but she said legends can pop up anywhere dense forests and remote cabins exist people vanish under strange circumstances leaving behind little trace besides footprints or curious marks on wood or stone that last part stuck with me the memory of the porch railing
I recall standing there, thinking how carefully those scratches had been carved. Later that evening, I scoured the internet on my own, reading about disappearances, theories, and plenty of wild speculation. Not everything felt relevant, but I stumbled on a few accounts that sounded uncomfortably familiar. Unexplained knocks, distorted animal calls, or voices mimicking loved ones.
An unsettling number of people wrote that responding to these calls often led them deeper into danger. Ever since, a lingering sense of unease has shadowed me, especially at night. I'll be in my living room, hear a random noise outside, and feel my heart pound. All those rational explanations I once clung to don't hold the same weight.
And while I keep telling myself we got away in time, I can't stop wondering what might have happened if I'd followed the voice when it called to me. Part of me wishes it were a simple case of nerves, or an overactive imagination. Yet everything from the footprints to the metallic banging, the gouges in the wood, and that echo of my name in the dark suggests something more.
I may never have solid proof, but that experience left a mark. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who's driven off into the early morning light, convinced that something unnatural lurked in the trees behind them, waiting, That evening I trudged through the front door feeling grimy from another too long shift at the hardware store.
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Chapter 5: What mysterious footprints were discovered at the cabin?
Benny refused to leave my side, pacing in circles with his eyes fixed on the doorway. I was in the middle of telling Sam every horrible detail when the entire house lurched like a sudden earthquake had hit our tiny patch of land. Windows rattled. A bang so intense that my insides twisted around each other rippled through the neighborhood.
A brief flicker in the power caused the overhead light to dim, then sputter back to life. Sam dropped her phone, and Benny whimpered in confusion. I ran to the window expecting to see flames or some sign of destruction, but there was only darkness and that eerie quiet. Several neighbors gathered in the street almost instantly, flashlights bouncing over the asphalt.
Walter emerged from his house looking frazzled, rifle still clutched in his grip. One of the neighbors, an older woman named Jeannie, pointed into the swamp, swearing she'd noticed some flickering blue glow in the distance right before the explosion.
others mumbled about feeling the ground shake beneath them the way everyone's voices trembled told me we were all grappling with the same sinister thought something unnatural resided out there and it was getting bolder sam and i joined the group The moment we set foot beyond the lawn, an uneasy prickling sensation crept over my skin, as if we were all being observed. Nobody had an explanation.
Any conversation about it, or whatever's out there, just trailed off. In that silence, the swamp loomed, soaked in shadows and stillness. Police arrived soon after, a pair of officers with tense expressions. They questioned us in turn, jotting down notes.
When Walter told them about the fence being slammed by an invisible force, they exchanged a look that practically screamed they wanted no part in chasing something through a swamp at night. Even hearing about the unintelligible voice left them shifting on their feet.
By the time they finished taking statements, it was clear they were going to file their report and head out, not stick around to figure out the cause of that detonation. Once the patrol car disappeared down the street, we all realized we had no one else to rely on. People retreated to their homes, locking doors that had never been locked before in this small community.
Walter shot me a knowing glance. His presence had always been a comfort, like he'd protected this neighborhood for decades, but now he appeared just as spooked as the rest of us. Sam and I hurried back inside, triple-checking every window latch. Benny stationed himself near the front door, hackles raised, ready to spring.
The residue of that massive bang still hung in the air, leaving my nerves on edge. Every little creak of the house sounded magnified. Every distant rustle in the yard made me tense up. Time crawled. We clicked on every lamp, determined to ward off the oppressive darkness outside.
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Chapter 6: How did the night end with an eerie voice calling out?
everything looked like it might snap at any second despite the roaring wind i managed to pick out the scrape of moose's chain it guided me like a beacon though it was faint and easily drowned out by each thunderclap i lost track of time stomping through the yard maybe it was a minute maybe ten finally i reached the creek just as another jagged bolt of lightning streaked across the sky the old planks were slick and crooked but i had no choice
I gingerly stepped on the wood, praying I wouldn't slip into the raging water. For a split second I glanced behind me toward the house. The dim glow from our living room window was barely visible through the sheets of rain. I wished I could turn around and retreat, but Moose was out there alone, and that thought twisted my stomach.
So I pushed on, crossing the bridge in two large strides, boots squelching loudly. The sound of moose's chain seemed further up toward the mountain. The slope beyond the creek was a tangle of briars and soggy leaves, and it didn't help that darkness clung to every inch of the forest. One misstep, and I'd be sliding down into the water, or worse.
Still, it was better than going home empty-handed to face my father's wrath. i took a deep breath forcing myself to keep moving overhead thunder boomed again so powerful it rattled my ribs the forest ahead swayed as if alive full of silhouettes shifting against each other Something about it felt unnatural, like it was quietly waiting for me, biding its time.
My pulse hammered away, and my thoughts spun with every possible bad scenario. All I knew was, Moose was out there, and I had to find him before something else did. I gritted my teeth, hands shaking, and started up the slope. If I were lucky, Moose was just around the bend, maybe tangled in a bush. If not... Well, I tried not to think about that. Either way, there was no going back.
I trudged forward, the roar of the storm making every step feel like I was venturing deeper into another world. The creek was just behind me, its water raging loud enough to drown out almost everything else. I'd crossed on those slippery planks, heart pounding in my ears, so it took me a second to realize that Moose's chain had gone quiet.
The silence felt wrong somehow, even with the rain pounding leaves and the thunder crashing above. I had this deep sense that something out here was holding its breath. I kept calling Moose's name, my voice ragged.
A flash of lightning lit the trees for an instant, revealing the chaos of the forest floor, tangled undergrowth, small streams of runoff winding between boulders, and everything slicked with water. No sign of Moose. I pushed on, boots squelching in ankle deep mud. The wind whistled between branches, almost like it was whispering warnings I couldn't quite understand.
After another minute of struggling uphill, that smell hit me. It was a stench so foul my throat seized in protest, like rotting meat left out in the summer heat. I'd come across dead animals before out in the Appalachian wilderness, but this was different. It was stronger, like a carcass that had been there a week or more, oozing and attracting flies.
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Chapter 7: What creature might mimic voices in the woods?
my imagination or maybe not conjured the idea that something huge was only a dozen yards behind us snapping branches in its path i didn't wait to confirm moose and i stumbled back into what was left of our yard the faint glow from the house's window like a beacon
my legs burned with exhaustion and my lungs stung from breathing so hard the storm still raged but as awful as it was it felt safer than whatever lurked deeper in the forest the door had swung shut behind me when i left and i could see eric's small face pressed to the glass eyes large he was waiting probably terrified moose and i darted up the muddy slope to the porch i nearly collapsed onto the door fumbling to get it open
My hands shook so badly I could barely work the latch. Finally it gave, and we toppled inside. I slammed the door behind us, though there wasn't much left of it to bolt. Rain dripped from my clothes in a steady trail. Moose shook himself, spraying water all over.
still breathing hard i pressed my ear to the door half expecting something to slam against it but all i heard was the storm raging outside eric stood by the dim lamp on the side table looking so small that my heart hurt to see him he opened his mouth to ask a question maybe about what happened out there but i just raised a hand still gasping
there was nothing i could say that would make sense not yet instead i walked over to the window parted the threadbare curtain a fraction and looked out into the darkness my eyes strained to spot any movement or shape the rain blurred everything into a shifting mess of shadows Yet I couldn't shake the idea that something was still out there, watching, listening, waiting.
In that moment, the storm outside no longer felt like the biggest threat. Something else was lurking in the Appalachian Mountains that night, and I'd come terrifyingly close to it. I had no clue what it was, or how it had stayed hidden. All I knew was that we'd barely gotten away, and I didn't want to test our luck twice. By morning, I was running on fumes.
I'd spent most of the night in the living room, fighting the urge to fall asleep. Eric dozed in a chair with moose curled at his feet. A rare moment of calm for that dog, who was still damp from our sprint through the storm. The rain finally started letting up at sunrise, and it gave me just enough courage to crack open the busted door and peer out.
the yard looked waterlogged and torn up like a battleground of mud and broken branches before i could decide whether to investigate the creek my parents barged in complaining about the warped door my dad wearing an old denim jacket spotted with rain took one glance at the wood we'd rigged as a latch and muttered something about lousy craftsmanship before turning on me
He wanted to know why the door was off its frame, why everything smelled like wet dog, and what had happened during the night. My explanation came out rushed and jumbled. Moose ran off. I chased him. The storm was insane. Something in the woods. He cut me off with a wave of his hand. The expression on his face said he was in no mood for what he believed were wild stories.
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