These are 6 Scary True Deep Woods Horror Stories 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 00:10:38 Story 2 00:25:53 Story 3 00:33:06 Story 4 00:43:13 Story 5 00:52:20 Story 6 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 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀
Chapter 1: What happens during the eerie night drive?
The road seemed narrower, the trees taller, their twisted branches leaning closer. as i rounded a curve something darted into the road ahead my foot slammed onto the brake and the truck screeched tires sliding against the damp pavement the high beams lit up a massive stag frozen in place its antlers were huge jagged like the roots of an old tree
Chapter 2: What terrifying encounter occurs with the stag?
It stared straight at me, its dark eyes glinting in the light. The truck was skidding, and I yanked the wheel to the side desperate to avoid hitting it. The tires caught a patch of loose gravel, and the whole truck tilted toward the edge of the embankment. For a split second I thought I was going over, but the wheels found grip again, jerking me back onto the road.
Chapter 3: How does the protagonist react after the accident?
I braced for the impact, but it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. The truck clipped the stag's side, and I heard a heavy thud followed by a sharp crack. The creature crumpled to the ground as my truck finally came to a stop. For a moment, I sat there gripping the wheel, breathing hard. The fog swirled around the truck, making it feel like I was stuck in a bubble.
Chapter 4: What strange occurrences follow the accident?
When the initial shock faded, I climbed out to see what had happened. The front of my truck wasn't as bad as I'd feared. The grill was bent, and there was a smear of something dark on the hood, but it wasn't too bad. Then I heard it. A low, wet groan coming from the side of the road. The stag was lying there, its chest rising and falling unevenly. It was alive, but barely.
Chapter 5: What unsettling discoveries are made in the woods?
I grabbed my flashlight from the truck and stepped closer, not sure what I could even do. Its massive antlers looked strange in the light, like they were too sharp, too... wrong. The stag's eyes met mine. They weren't normal animal eyes. They were glassy and strange, almost like they were looking through me instead of at me. My stomach twisted, but I couldn't look away. Then its body shuddered.
Chapter 6: How do the locals describe the cursed road?
A loud crack echoed through the trees as its head jerked unnaturally. The antlers stretched, twisting and splintering, like they were growing right in front of me. Something black and shiny oozed from the cracks, dripping onto the ground with a hiss. I stumbled back, nearly dropping the flashlight. The groaning sound changed, becoming deeper, almost like a laugh.
Chapter 7: What dangers lurk as the characters explore deeper?
the stag's legs twitched and it started to rise its movements jerky and wrong like a puppet with tangled strings i didn't wait to see what would happen next i ran back to my truck yanked the door open and threw myself inside As I fumbled with the keys, I caught a glimpse of the stag in the rearview mirror.
Chapter 8: How does the story culminate in a terrifying chase?
Its massive, twisted antlers scraped against the trees as it stepped into the road, its glowing eyes fixed on me. The truck roared to life and I hit the gas. Gravel sprayed behind me as I sped down the road, the fog swallowing everything but the memory of those eyes. I woke up feeling like I hadn't really slept.
The clock said it was morning, but the pale light seeping through the windows made everything look gray. I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before forcing myself to get up. My body felt heavy, like I'd run a marathon instead of driven a few miles home last night.
outside the woods were still and quiet but not the good kind of quiet the air seemed thicker than usual like the fog from last night hadn't really gone away i grabbed my jacket and stepped out to check the truck the front of it looked worse in the daylight The dented grill was smeared with something black that had dried into hard streaks.
The hood had a faint warped ripple running through it, like metal shouldn't bend that way. And there was a faint smell, burnt, but also sweet, like something left in the oven too long. I went to grab a rag and some water to clean it off, but my hand froze halfway to the hood. Something caught my eye on the ground.
A set of hoof prints, larger than I'd ever seen, led from the road to the edge of my driveway. They stopped about ten feet from the truck, like whatever had made them had stood there for a while before turning back toward the trees. My stomach tightened as I bent to get a closer look.
The edges of the prints were sharp, too sharp, and the dirt around them had this weird, burned look, like it had been seared into the earth. by the time i finished cleaning up the truck i knew i couldn't stay home all day i grabbed my keys and headed into town maybe a bit of normal life coffee a conversation at the general store would help me feel better
the store was its usual mix of locals chatting and picking up supplies i grabbed a coffee and some duct tape for the truck but as i paid i overheard a couple of old-timers at a nearby table another one near the crossing one said shaking his head third this month
don't surprise me the other replied that stretch of roads cursed always has been i tried not to react but my hands tightened on the bag of supplies i thought about the fog the stag and the twisted look of its antlers Cursed wasn't a word I believed in, but last night felt like it belonged in a category all its own. On the way back, the woods looked darker, even though the sun was higher.
The trees felt closer, their branches hanging low enough to brush the top of the truck. As I turned into my driveway, I saw them again. Those hoof prints, fresh and leading directly up to my cabin door. I didn't get out right away. I just sat there. staring at the front door, wondering if I was imagining the faint scratch marks around the edges of the frame.
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