Have You Heard of "Milly The Hanged Lady"?

 

That's what Josh, my best friend, asked me one night while we were camping in the woods.

"Seriously? Is this another story you made up, Josh?" asked Sue skeptically.

"No, no, this story is 100% true. Seriously, you've never heard of it?"

I shrugged my shoulders in denial.

Josh loved telling stories. Especially the urban legends he'd read on the Internet. Most likely he'd prepared a dozen of them in advance for the night.

"The story begins one late night in the forest where we are," Josh began seriously.

I smiled out of the corner of my mouth, and exchanged a glance with Sue, who knew as well as I did that, now that he was off and running, there was no stopping him.

"Milly was a high-schooler like the three of us, and ever since she was a little girl, she'd been picked on by the other kids. You see, Milly was different from the others. She always kept to herself, didn't dare speak up, and didn't mix well with the others. And soon, she became the target of others. Over the years, her reputation followed her, and the harassment from other students in her class became increasingly cruel"

Sue kept a neutral expression, but I could feel that the story touched her. She too had struggled to fit in after her parents moved here. And it was only after befriending Josh and me that she'd managed to come out of her shell. But if she hadn't, she might have been subjected to this kind of behavior too. In fact, she had confessed to me that this had even been the case at her previous school.

"One wintry evening, several students decided to play a prank on Milly," Josh continued, the flames from the campfire reflecting in his eyes.

"They all grabbed scary masks, armed themselves with knives, and chased Milly as she made her way home through the forest. Milly, terrified, fled as far as she could. She got lost in the forest. The story goes that during the night, cold, lost and hungry, she found a rope stretched over a branch, like an invitation. And that she ended her life."

"What a horror..." said Sue, still captivated by the tale.

"And since then, they say she haunts these woods, and that it's possible to summon her by repeating certain words."

"Cut the crap," I said, uncomfortably.

"I swear! All you have to do is stand in front of a branch and say "Milly Milly, why are you so lonely" three times, then turn around and say "Milly Milly, come talk to me" just once. Then you'll hear the sound of the rope swinging under the weight of her body. And the story goes, if you're unfortunate enough to turn around and look at her, she'll kill you.

"Okay, that's definitely nonsense. No, really, Josh, you had me going so far, but I don't believe it anymore," Sue said, standing up.

"You'll excuse me, guys, but I'm going to hit the sack. Good night, don't stay up too late tomorrow, we're leaving early."

And with that, she headed off to her tent.

Josh and I stayed a while, staring at the fire in silence.

After a while, as if he couldn't hold back any longer, he asked me, "Do you want to do it?"

"What?"

"Well, repeat the sentence and everything? Come on, we've been walking and picking mushrooms all day, what the hell?"

I had a feeling that if I didn't agree this night, he'd ask me every night after until I gave in, so I preferred to take the lead.

• 
  

We found ourselves in front of a branch a few dozen feet from the camp, where the fire was beginning to fade. We had equipped ourselves with our flashlights to see where we were going.

Josh seemed excited.

I have to admit that once we got to the branch, I was more apprehensive than I would have imagined about some stupid urban legend.

"You're the one doing it," Josh told me.

"Why me? It was your idea, your story!"

"But I've already done it 15 times, come on, it's your turn, man, don't back down now."

I huffed, this was typical of him.

I stood in front of the branch, flashlight in hand. Josh gave me the sentence to repeat three times, and with a stutter or two, I managed to get it right.

I turned around, my back to the branch. Jose stood next to me because he said if he looked, it wouldn't work.

"Milly Milly, come talk to me," I finally said in a whisper.

"Hey, don't shit yourself," Josh laughed.

We waited for a few moments.

"Well I don't hear any taut rope noises, I guess that means I'll live."

"Maybe she was busy elsewhere tonight," Josh replied with a laugh.

"Come on let's go to bed, we're starting to freeze out here."

We headed back to our camp.

I couldn't help but look back for a moment while holding my lamp in front of me. And for a moment, I could have sworn I saw something moving from right to left near the tree where we'd been for a few moments.

Damn I should really stop listening to Josh’s stories.

• 
  

I was awakened by a scream.

I scrambled to my feet, ears pricked and wondering if I'd imagined the scream.

I could see through the canvas of my tent that it was still dark outside.

"Josh? Sue?" I called aloud, our tents being right next to each other.

No answer.

Why the hell aren't they answering? If they play a prank on me, I'm going to kill them.

I grabbed the flashlight from my tent, my cell phone, and quietly stepped out of my tent.

"Josh? Sue?" I asked again.

I lit up their tents in turn, and noticed they were both open, and empty.

I couldn't remember clearly what I'd heard, but I thought the scream I'd heard was that of a girl. I couldn't believe for a second that Sue would participate in a prank like that.

But if it wasn't that, then maybe something serious had happened.

As I stood there trying to think about where they might have gone, and what might have happened, a strong wind blew. And to my right, a few dozen feet away, I spotted something moving.

"Josh, I swear to God, if this is one of your stupid jokes," I said as I slowly approached, my flashlight trying to shine through the vegetation toward the spot.

I walked towards where I'd thought I'd seen movement, and finally, I saw something just to my right moving again. Slowly, heavily.

I heard the sound of a taut rope.

I shone my flashlight from bottom to top.

And there I saw Josh, hanging by his neck with a rope tied to the branch of a tree.

I was silent for a few seconds at the shock.

"Josh, please stop this bullshit."

His face was contorted in an expression of sheer terror, eyes revolted back. His skin was blue, lifeless.

I nudged him with my hand, and he just rocked back and forth a little.

I couldn't believe it. It must have been an elaborate prank on his part, it wasn't possible, not Josh. He was glowing with life, he would never have taken his own life like that, in the middle of the night, camping with us.

The reality finally dawned on me, and I was overcome by a violent sob. My legs buckled and I threw up on the ground.

As I wiped my mouth, my eyes misty with tears, I heard something impossible.

The sound of a taut rope slowly swinging, right behind me.

I straightened up slowly, the sensation of mortal danger just behind my neck.

"Who... who's there?" I asked, my voice trembling and still tight.

The rope suddenly stopped moving.

"Why won't you look at me?" asked a feminine voice from beyond the grave and whose windpipe seemed to be strangled.

"Wh... What?"

"Your friend looked at me. And look at him now. He's so much happier, here, with me."

I remained silent, my eyes fixed in front of me, as if frozen in place.

It's impossible, she can't be real, you're having a nightmare, wake up wake up.

"LOOK AT ME!"

I ran.

I didn't know where, and I didn't care. She'd killed Josh, and now this thing, whatever it was, was after me.

After a minute I remembered Sue's scream. She must have been awakened like me, maybe by Josh getting up or when he'd been killed, and she must have discovered his corpse too.

With any luck, she'd managed to escape too.

I figured that if she'd gone off with her cell phone too, she'd have tried to escape to the nearest road, which was about 15 miles away, even though there was no way she'd get there before the night was over.

I tried calling the police or my parents without success. But luckily the GPS still seemed to be working, so I followed this direction.

• 
  

I was walking fast now so as not to collapse on the ground from exhaustion. I was already out of breath and couldn't stop.

I always made sure to aim my flashlight at the ground in front of me to be on the safe side. The urban legend Josh had told me was that you had to "turn around and look at her" for her to kill you, so maybe I shouldn't look her in the eye?

I felt like I was being stalked, I flinched at every movement of a branch in the wind, and I constantly felt eyes behind my back, but I was too scared to turn around.

I had to get the hell out of this forest.

Sorry Josh, I promise I'll come back for you as soon as I find some help.

I spotted an abandoned cabin we'd seen on the way here. I remembered Sue had said that if there was a storm, we could always take shelter there.

Suddenly, I saw light piercing the darkness through the wooden planks of the cabin.

I sprinted toward it.

"Sue! I'm coming!" I shouted, out of breath.

I stepped inside, the boards creaking beneath my feet. Light streamed in from under the door of the cabin's only small bedroom.

I crossed the space between me and the door, glad I'd found Sue before I fled here. I put my hand on the door handle.

"Sue...", I paused. The silence was unnatural, something was wrong.

"Sue, are you okay?" I asked through the door, my hand still on the handle.

"Sue answer me please you're freaking me out, Josh is dead and the thing that killed him is still around we need to get the hell out of here."

No response.

"Sue!"

I noticed the light moving under the door. As if someone was holding the strap at the end of a finger and swinging it left and right.

"No no no," I said in horror.

In response, a childish laugh rang out from behind the door.

I ran to the front door, which I opened with a shove of my shoulder, and ran, ran straight out.

• 
  

After a few minutes I collapsed on the ground. It forced me to stop and think about what had happened. Maybe it wasn't Sue. Maybe this thing had managed to grab a flashlight and was playing with me. After all, I had no idea of the extent of it’s abilities.

I kept my eyes on my knees as I pondered what I'd just seen.

Then I heard it. That sound, which I could now detect among any other sounds.

The sound of a rope stretched taut, swinging from left to right.

The sound wasn't coming from behind me this time, but from my left.

I could feel her sinister gaze on me, inviting me to look back at her, and sealing my death in the process.

I stood up, eyes still on my feet, and started to run to my right.

But I was stopped in my tracks. The sound of rope was now coming from just ahead.

Without thinking, I turned again in the opposite direction.

Again, the sound was coming from right in front of me.

She's everywhere. I'm screwed.

I stood there with my eyes on my feet, trying to think of a solution. I was reaching my limit. Josh's death, Sue missing, maybe dead too, and this running around all night.

I closed my eyes, and tears quickly formed at the ends.

I had an idea.

Legend had it that it was "looking" at her that allowed her to kill you. What if, what if I kept moving forward, looking at my feet. Or even, closed my eyes?

The very idea of walking through the forest with my eyes closed sent a chill down my spine, but what other choice do I have?

I've been squatting here for several minutes now, writing this message.

I've tried to call the police but every time I call all I hear is static.

I don't know where Sue is or how to get rid of this thing. I'm alone, I'm cold and I'm exhausted.

If you're reading this, please help me.

 

----

 

Credits

There's Something Creepy about the Doll on My Shelf

  

I got a doll for my birthday. She looked just like me. Same brown hair, same blue dress I wore. Mommy said she found her at an old shop and knew I’d love her. I named her Lily.

Lily was fun at first. We had tea parties and I told her secrets. But then, weird things happened. I’d leave Lily on the chair, but find her on my bed later. “Maybe you forgot you moved her,” Mommy said. But I knew I didn’t.

One night, I heard a noise. Like tiny feet walking. I peeked from under my covers and saw Lily sitting on my desk, but her eyes were looking at me. It made my heart beat really fast.

Next day, I put Lily in the closet. I didn’t want to play with her anymore. She made me feel strange. But when I came back from school, she was sitting on my bed again. Her smile looked different, bigger.

I told Mommy, but she just laughed. “Lily’s just a doll,” she said.

Then, the scariest thing happened. It was night, and the moon was bright. I woke up feeling cold. I looked around and... I wasn’t in my bed. I was on the shelf, where I keep my toys. And in my bed, where I should have been, was Lily. She was under my blanket, her eyes closed like she was sleeping.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I couldn’t move. My arms and legs were stiff as wood. I looked down at my hands. They weren’t my hands. They were doll hands.

I don’t know how long I stayed there. The moon moved across the sky, and the room got darker. Then, light peeked in. Morning.

When Mommy came to wake me, she didn’t see me on the shelf. She went to the bed. “Time to get up, Amy,” she said to Lily. Lily moved. She stretched and yawned, like she was really me.

I wanted to cry, to tell Mommy it was me, on the shelf. But I couldn’t. I was just a doll.

Mommy left the room, and Lily got dressed in my clothes. She looked in the mirror and smiled. But her eyes were scary, not like mine.

I sat on the shelf every day, watching Lily. She played with my toys, ate my food, and hugged my mommy. Nobody knew I was here on the shelf.

—

Years went by, so many years, sitting on the shelf in my room. But it wasn't my room anymore. It was Lily's room now. She grew taller and older, but I stayed the same, a small porcelain doll with a silent voice. I watched Lily become a teenager, then a grown-up. She stopped playing with dolls, stopped noticing me on the shelf. I was just a forgotten toy in a room filled with memories.

Then, one sunny day, Mommy decided to have a garage sale. She gathered old things, things that weren't needed anymore. And that included me. I was placed on a table with other old toys, my dress faded and my hair a bit tangled. People came and went, looking at all the stuff. Then, she came. A little girl with bright eyes and a smile that reminded me of... me, a long time ago. Her name was Emma.

Emma saw me and her face lit up. "Can I have this doll, Mommy?" she asked, holding me gently. Her mom nodded, and that's how I left my old home, tucked under Emma's arm, going to a new place.

Emma's room was full of colors and laughter. She played with me every day, telling me stories and secrets, just like I used to do with Lily. She named me Rosie, and I loved that name. It felt new and happy.

Then, something strange happened. One morning, I felt a tingle in my fingers. It scared me, but also made me hopeful. Each day, I felt more and more. My arms, my legs, they started to feel real again.

One night, under the moonlight streaming through Emma's window, I felt it. I could move, just a little, but it was movement. My heart, if I still had one, was beating so fast. I closed my eyes, wishing, hoping.

When I opened my eyes again, it was morning. But everything was different. I was in Emma's bed, covered in her blanket. I sat up, looking at my hands. They were real hands again.

I jumped out of bed and ran to the mirror. But the reflection staring back wasn't mine. It was Emma's face. I touched my face, feeling real skin instead of porcelain. It was like magic, but also scary.

I turned around and saw the shelf where I used to sit. There, in my old spot, was a doll. It looked just like Emma, with her cute dress and shiny hair. But it wasn't Emma. It was just a doll, still and silent. My heart felt heavy. I understood then. The same thing that happened to me and Lily had happened to Emma.

I was free from being a doll, but Emma, she was trapped, just like I had been. I remembered Lily and realized she must have been a real girl too, turned into a doll. The only way to break the doll's curse was for another little girl to take my place. It made me feel sad and guilty. I didn't want Emma to be stuck like I was.

But what could I do? I was in Emma's body now.

—

Now, I go to her school, play with her friends, and live her life. But every night, I look at the Emma-doll on the shelf and whisper, "I'm sorry." I wish I could change it, make it all go back to normal. But I don’t know how.

—Amy

----

Credits 

What Happened to Mistletoe After She Played “Exocyde”?

  

I used to know a girl called Mistletoe.

“My parents thought it'd be cute to name me that as a nod to their first kiss,” she always joked. “Shame they didn't realise mistletoe is a parasite that literally sucks the life out of its host.”

Understandably, she went by Miz.

The day Miz disappeared started like any other. My hometown had humble beginnings as a handful of shabby buildings erected in a Sherwood Forest clearing. Centuries later there are rows of terraced housing, small businesses and the forest has receded. There are still pockets of ancient woodland within walking distance though and, with only five TV channels and the internet still in its infancy, these woodlands were where we spent most of the summer holidays back when we were kids.

At first they were just hangouts to trade Pokémon cards and build dens. But when we got older The Trees (as we came to call our favourite spot) was a great place to drink, smoke cigarettes and occasionally get stoned if anyone had the money. There were rumours of worse going on in nearby Glover's Wood but to be truthful we were a tame bunch and never went there to investigate.

The summer day in question was hot and balmy. I remember I received a text from Mistletoe saying that we were meeting at The Trees around midday. When I got there Miz was already talking with Gus and Cherie, trying to convince them that we should hike all the way out to the old fishing pond on the other side of the woods.

To understand how strange of a request this was, you really need to know a little bit more about Miz. She was smart, pretty, with freckles and a blonde pixie cut. But Miz was no manic pixie dream girl. She was studious, reserved and shy around people she didn't know. Miz was also a bit emo (to use the parlance of the time). She was always reading novels by dead Russian guys, writing in her journal and, on days when the weather was bad, Miz could be found playing her acoustic guitar in the cramped bedroom she shared with her sister. My point is that Miz being adamant about anything was kind of rare. She mostly just went with the flow.

But that afternoon Miz was determined we all go and so, despite the heat, the four of us headed up the woodland footpath towards the fishing pond. Once we got there we actually had a lot of fun. Sunbathing, skimming stones and doing the quizzes in Cherie's trashy magazines. Miz was strangely distant though, even though the pond had been her idea. Whilst we goofed around she sat on the bank staring out across the water, occasionally making a note in her journal. It was a relief when she finally stood up and asked if anyone fancied taking the boat out.

The one boat abandoned by the side of the pond was a small rowboat with a single oar and just enough room for two people. After we rescued the rowboat from its prison of brambles Miz and I went out on the water. We paddled around the pond laughing and splashing water at each other, we timed ourselves to see how fast we could paddle bank to bank, and we talked in stupid pirate voices the whole time. After a while, Miz asked me to paddle out to the centre of the pond so we could work out how deep it was. She took the oar from me and pushed it down into the water, following it in with her outstretched arm right up to her elbow. From her measurements we guessed the pond was somewhere between eight and nine feet deep.

Our little boat trip was nice. Really nice actually, one last good memory before everything went so wrong. All good things must come to an end though, and once the sun began to sink we came ashore and then the four of us all headed back along the footpath.

As we neared The Trees Miz slowed and stopped me.

“Me and you,” she said quietly, “we're coming back out tonight.”

Now, I was a teenager and, like I said, Mistletoe was pretty. What I was hoping for must have registered on my face because Miz rolled her eyes.

“Don't get any ideas,” she said. “We're not doing that, we're doing this.” She handed me a folded up piece of paper. “Don't read it until you get home.”

Believe it or not I still have this piece of paper. I'd kept it tucked inside a secondhand copy of Anna Karenina Mistletoe lent me before she disappeared. When I looked it was still there, all these years later. I'll type out what was printed on the paper for you below:

Wherever two worlds meet a porous boundary is created. Exocyde is a game that takes advantage of this boundary effect, offering one of two players the chance to commune with the other side and receive an answer to their most desperate question. Two people, the Speaker and the Witness, must take a Vessel out onto the water in full dark and under a half moon. An electronic Receiver is also required and must be present aboard the Vessel.

Once the Vessel is upon the water, a weighted Tether is dropped to the waterbed linking the Vessel to the water/earth Boundary. The Witness may then light a candle, this is the Beacon. If the ritual has been set up correctly the game begins and the pair's resolve will be Tested. Should both Speaker and Witness remain silent and keep the Beacon alight during the Test they will have passed. Only then will the Speaker receive a call on their Receiver from the Caller. Once prompted the Speaker may ask their question. But be warned, once the question is answered the Caller will demand a rich price be paid for the information. This is the Forfeit and it cannot be evaded or escaped.

Rule One: Exocyde must only be played upon freshwater.

The gamespace must be deep enough that, if the Speaker and Witness were to stand upon the bottom, neither would break the surface.

Rule Two: The Vessel must be propelled by the Speaker's labour only.

Rule Four: The Tether must link the Vessel directly to the Boundary.

Rule Five: The Receiver is the only electronic device allowed aboard the Vessel.

Any two-way communication device such as a house phone or CB radio may serve as Receiver. Any other devices must be kept external to the gamespace.

Rule Six: The Witness must light and maintain the Beacon. The game begins when the Beacon is lit. If the Beacon is extinguished, the game ends.

Rule Seven: Whilst the Test will be different for every Speaker and Witness combination, the goal is always to remain silent and to keep the Beacon lit throughout.

Rule Eight: If either the Speaker or the Witness speak once the Beacon is lit, the game ends. If either the Speaker or Witness enter the water, all is lost.

Rule Nine: Only the Speaker may speak with the Caller. The Speaker may speak only when The Caller addresses them.

The Speaker must answer the Caller's questions in either the monosyllabic affirmative or the monosyllabic negative. The only exception is when the Caller prompts the Speaker to ask their question. Under no circumstances is the Speaker permitted to ask the Caller to identify themselves.

Rule Ten: The Forfeit is non-negotiable.

After the Caller declares the nature of the Forfeit, the Speaker must—

Bizarre, right? Rule Ten is cut off at the bottom of the page, like there was too much text for a single sheet of A4 or the message board or forum or wherever Mistletoe got Exocyde from was incomplete. I haven't failed to notice that Rule Three is either missing or deliberately omitted either. The only other detail of note on the paper are the words The Trees 9pm written in Mistletoe's handwriting and underlined.

Back to the day that Mistletoe disappeared.

After dinner I told my parents I was going to bed to watch a film and snuck out through my window. As expected Miz was waiting for me at The Trees. To be honest I was still hoping that this was some weird emo version of foreplay and I was going to get lucky. But, of course, Miz told me that we were hiking out to the pond to play Exocyde.

The pond seemed very different at night. Whilst the surrounding woodland had resembled a picturesque scene from a storybook in the day, in the darkness the trees looked crooked and warped. Creaking limbs seemed to reach for us as we walked along the bank. Above, the sky was cloudless, the pond below still and perfectly reflective. It looked as though I'd be able to scoop a star or even the moon from the water if I wanted to.

Miz made me leave my mobile phone on the bank with hers and then she launched the boat and paddled us out. She stowed the oar and opened the backpack she had brought. She pulled out an old ring dial telephone with a long extension cord attached. I noticed Miz had tied some kind of lumpy fishing ledger to the end of the cord and it sank quickly when she threw it overboard. Next, Miz sat down and coiled the slack into her lap. She reached into her bag again and passed me a candle and matchbox.

“Light it,” she instructed. “And no matter what happens, don't say a word.”

At first what happened was precisely nothing. Sure, there was the rustling of trees and the gentle lapping of water against the boat. At one point I thought I heard laughter from deep within the woods, but nothing otherworldly. My mind started to wander and, being the teenage cliché I was, I soon found myself staring at Miz in the candlelight. She was peering across the water, deep in thought and trembling slightly. She was still wearing the denim shorts and old band tee she'd had on all day. Perfect for a hot summer afternoon but I wondered if she was starting to feel the chill of the night air. Maybe I should scoot over and put my arm around—

THUD

The sound reverberated through the hull of the rowboat like we'd hit floating debris at top speed. But we weren't moving, we were tethered and still.

Miz looked at me and raised a finger to her lips. Then I saw that the cord in her lap was uncoiling, slowly being pulled into the water. Miz noticed too and promptly wrapped her fingers around the remaining slack. When the cord met resistance, whatever was pulling on it started to yank it over and over again, rocking the boat and causing me to almost drop the candle. Somehow the cord didn't snap, somehow I managed to keep the candle alight.

After a short struggle the line went slack again.

Confused, I leaned over the boat and looked into the water. All I saw was my own reflection. No, not my reflection at all. It was Mistletoe's reflection in place of mine. Ghostly pale and shivering. She mouthed the words Help me…

I reached out with my free hand but the real Mistletoe grabbed me and pulled me back into my seat. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the reflection dissolve and a dark shape behind it turn in the water and dive. Had whatever it was somehow used Mistletoe's reflection as a disguise?

THUD THUD THUD

Bangs on the boat like a hailstorm of arrows turning their target into a pincushion. We both held onto the rim of the rowboat as the barrage continued, rocking the boat violently. I'm sure we both gasped but crucially I don't think either of us actually spoke any words.

THUD THUD THUD

And then, as suddenly as the clatter had begun, it ceased. For a few moments the boat continued to rock before gently coming to a stop. The water became calm.

Then, to my absolute horror, the phone began to ring.

Miz drew in a deep breath and raised the receiver to her ear. After a whistle of static I heard a voice speak on the other end. Cold and ragged like sheet ice cracking. I could hear the voice but I couldn't make out what it was saying. Mistletoe on the other hand listened and then answered “Yes”, then “No”, and then “No” again.

Then she asked her question in a low growl:

“Why haven't I been granted what I'm rightfully owed?”

The Caller responded but still I could hear no words. This was a long answer that went on for at least a minute. Eventually, Mistletoe said “Yes'' and then the voice continued.

As the Caller's tone became increasingly vicious, the colour drained from Mistletoe's face. In the candlelight I watched as a tear trickled down her cheek. Finally, Miz slammed the handset home, cutting the Caller off mid-sentence.

I blew out the candle.

We didn't talk much on the way back to The Trees. I was too shaken up. When we got there Miz gave me a long hug before telling me she would call me tomorrow and explain everything. Then she walked off into the darkness. I never saw or heard from Mistletoe again.

That night broke me. I retreated into myself, became a different person. I was scared of leaving the house, scared of being with people, scared of being alone.

There was an investigation into Mistletoe's disappearance of course, but it struck me as half-hearted. Mistletoe was a teenage girl who had run away from a broken home to try and make it on her own. That was the official line but I never believed it. Someone or something stole Mistletoe away and I knew it. But, shamefully, I never came forward to reveal what I had witnessed that night. I never told the police, my parents or even Gus and Cherie. I thought I would be ignored at best and considered a suspect at worst. After all, I was the last person to see Mistletoe alive.

When my family moved away eight months later I was beyond relieved. Still broken, but at least further away from the Caller and that cold, feral voice.

After that I coasted for years. Uninspiring grades at school turned into a lacklustre degree. Then, after bumming around for almost a decade, I got a job at a struggling Midlands rag, the Sentinel. I'm not even a real reporter, I run the ad pages. But two months ago I saw that my hometown was on the circulation list. That stirred something in me. I realised that words I had written had found their way back to my hometown. Even though it was just crappy advertising copy I felt like I had taken a first step without even realising it. Suddenly, I knew what I needed to do.

That's why I'm writing and posting this. As a statement of intent, as a plea for assistance. I'm heading back home to Edwinstoak tomorrow. And I'm not coming back until I've figured this whole thing out.

Even if I have to search every inch of that godforsaken forest myself.

Even if I have to play that damned game again.

I already know what my question will be:

“What happened to Mistletoe Marrion-May after she played Exocyde?”

-- John

 

----

 

Credits

My Scary Experience with the Cinnamon Challenge

 

Have you heard of the Cinnamon challenge?

I bet some of you have. Or at least a version of it. The version most people are familiar with is this trend from a long time ago where you eat a spoonful of raw cinnamon powder and swallow it. Apparently, the rough powder causes immediate coughing and wheezing. It’s almost guaranteed that you can’t keep it down.

The real challenge is actually kind of dangerous.

It was on New Years day this year that my family asked me if I wanted to try it for myself. It sounds stupid but you can’t imagine how excited I was to try it. I didn’t really know what the challenge was at first. I looked it up on my phone as soon as my dad brought it up to me.

One thing you should know, before I finish telling you what happened, is that I’m the youngest child in my family. I have two older brothers and a really mean older sister. You would think that I would get attention from our parents since I’m the youngest, but it’s the opposite. I always feel that I’m being left out of things, either because I’m too young or everyone else is busy. It kind of sucks. That’s why I was so excited when they all thought it would be fun to film me try the Cinnamon challenge.

We set up the DSLR camera in the living room where the whole family could see my reaction. Even my grandparents were there. Everyone was in really high spirits and laughing and telling jokes. I should have seen it coming but I was clueless. Why would they all of sudden want to play and hang out with me doing this weird challenge that I had never heard of?

After my dad finished setting up the camera, he pulled out a handkerchief. He told me that I had to blindfold myself and they were going to spin me around five times before they did the challenge. I told him that I think he was mistaken. I didn’t need to be blindfolded for the cinnamon challenge. I also mentioned to him that it might be good to have some water or something nearby in case I choke.

He laughed in a way that was really sus. I was too excited though; I just wasn’t paying close enough attention to what was happening. That is when he explained that this is a bit different than that cinnamon challenge online. This is more of a ritual.

“It’s the cinnamon challenge of Invisibility!”, he said to me.

I wanted to look it up on my phone, but it was still in the kitchen and I didn’t want to make my parents upset. Like if I questioned them too much they would just say “You know what Ronan, just forget it. You’re no fun, we’ll do it with your brothers”.

Even though I was kind of scared, my dad blindfolded me and then slowly turned me in a circle that he said was counterclockwise. Everyone counted louder with each number until they almost shouted “FIVE”.

Then someone blew some cinnamon powder in my face. It wasn’t a lot but I could tell what it was. It immediately made me sneeze.

Then I heard gasps in the room. I ripped off the blindfold and everyone’s expressions were full of fear. My mom’s face looked so sad, and she yelled at my dad to stop it, that this wasn’t funny. She was yelling my name out…

“Ronan! Stop this right now, come out here this instant! This is not funny!”

I tried to run up to her and I told her that I was there. I looked down and I could see my arms and my body. My shirt still had a slight stain from the cake we had for dessert at dinner. I definitely wasn’t invisible to myself, but everyone’s expressions were so horrifying. They looked around wildly and my mom said that she thought she could hear something but it was soo far away.

I ran up to my dad and screamed at him to look at me. His eyes were looking in my general direction, but it was like they couldn’t focus on me. His head was in the direction of my voice, but his eyes shifted quickly back and forth, sweeping over me entirely.

I grabbed his pant leg and pulled down sharply. He then kind of gasped in shock.

“Oh shit. I think I feel something. Ronan, are you there? Listen, if you’re by my leg, just stand still, I’m going to see if I can see you through my phone’s camera.”

So he leaned down and took out his phone. He took a selfie while he was kneeling down right beside me but with the rear facing camera so I couldn’t see a preview of it. Then he turned the screen over to look at the picture.

It was just a picture of him kneeling down without me!!!!

I screamed and looked around. I saw my older brother Will smiling slightly and ran up to him and screamed for him to look at me. I didn’t want to live my life invisible! I already felt invisible in my family and this would be a nightmare if I had to live the rest of life like this.

Will though was not quite acting like everybody else. It’s like he was trying not to laugh.

“I know you can see me WILL, PLEASE LOOK AT ME. I’M REALLY SCARED!!!”, I shouted at him. I then scratched myself on my arm for some reason in front of him. I think I was trying to shock him into acknowledging me.

He coughed several times forcefully and then his face went blank and he resumed looking worried.

He told my parents that this was too sad for him and he needed to step out. He would try to find help somewhere.

Will stepped out and I wanted to follow him but when I looked back everyone else was still trying to look around for me. My mom called my name again and wiped her eyes. I couldn’t see any tears, but her eyes were a little red. She was covering her mouth with her hand.

This is when I saw my sister’s friend Jackie. She was sitting alone on the couch on the other side of the living room. Unlike everyone else, Jackie was staring right into my eyes.

“Hey kiddo”, she said.

I ran up to her and I asked whether she could see me.

“Yeah, I can totally see you. How are you doing?”

“Why can’t anybody else see me???”, I asked her.

“They can totally see you. They are being assholes and filming a prank on you. They are awful people”, she said.

I looked back at my family and shouted that I know that they can see me but they didn’t react.

“Why are they still acting like this? You just revealed the prank. It’s not funny anymore…”

“Because they really can’t see me”, she said.

I tried to think back a few weeks. My sister and Jackie used to carpool to school together. They are both seniors in high school and Jackie used to come by almost every other day until a few weeks ago. Jackie’s mom had been by our house a few times since then and one time I remember seeing her crying and upset.

“Listen, Ronan. You need to know something about your sister. She is not a good person. We went out partying several weeks ago and your sister and I were going to meet up with some boys. At least I thought we were. Instead, we went to cross the bridge over the river that heads directly into the next town. She pulled over on that bridge and said that she thought she had a flat tire. She got out first and I followed after her.”

It took Jackie a few seconds to continue. I looked back at my family and they were still fully pretending not to see me although I could start to see smiles on some of their faces.

“I was standing next to the railing and that’s when I felt her push me. I hit the water that was hundreds of feet below the bridge. That was it. I think she was jealous over a guy that was interested in me. I was so stupid…. Ronan, listen to me. You have to be careful around her. She is dangerous and I hate to tell you this. She doesn’t like you very much. Be careful around her.”

I couldn’t tell what I was supposed to do after Jackie said this. Was this also part of the prank? I asked her why they couldn’t see her and she said she thought it was probably Inattentional Blindness. Maybe they couldn’t see what was staring them in the face.

I ran to my room screaming and eventually my dad ran after me. He was laughing but looked a little concerned. He FINALLY looked at me and told me it was a prank and apologized. Everybody else eventually came to my room and admitted the prank and apologized. It was such a huge relief.

Jackie though did not come to my room with everyone else. I eventually asked my mom about it. Her face got really serious, and she asked me what I was talking about. I told her what Jackie told me and my mom’s face darkened in a scary way and she said…

“That’s not funny at all, Ronan. Did your brother put you up to this?”

I tried to tell her what happened, but she wouldn’t hear it. I looked it up on my phone and I could see posts online and on my sister’s socials with vigils for Jackie praying for her safe return. I’m starting to think that the interaction that I had with Jackie was real. What should I do??? Did I see a ghost or was this a part of the prank? My sister is still driving me to school in the mornings and I don’t what to do….

 

----

 

Credits

I Am Being Watched By A Woman From The Other Side Of The Road Everyday...

 

A few years have passed since I moved out of my parents' house to stand on my own two feet. While most things were difficult to manage at the beginning of my independent life, I now do them in my sleep.

a daily, weekly, even yearly routine that has always worked and there's not much that can break it. except when you realize sooner or later that the perfect life you've supposedly built isn't so perfect after all.

For example, when you realize that the monthly costs are too high to put any significant money aside and it will probably be difficult to pay off your student loan. and when the tax authorities come knocking at your door for a tax audit, you really realize what it means to be an adult.

some time ago i was in a terrible crisis because i had massive debts that i couldn't pay and my mother also died. and as i was an only child and my father died when i was a child, my mother was the last person i could count on. it was around that time that i started to see her.

the woman on the side of the road. i didn't notice her at first, but the more often she appeared, the more often i noticed her. at the time, i thought she was just a simple middle-aged woman waiting for her bus. but the more often i saw her, the more it increased. in the beginning, i saw her maybe once a month. then eventually twice, then eventually several times a week and eventually every day. and she always looked at me. She had long brown hair and a few strands of gray. Otherwise she was quite pretty. She wore a white short-sleeved top with a black skirt that went down to her feet. She also wore a bracelet

her face was emotionless and no one who walked past her seemed to interact with her. a month before the event, i started seeing her even at night. and during the night, she stood even closer to my house. she was not on the opposite side of the street but on mine, staring at the house. when this was the case, some strange things often happened. i heard someone knocking on the door but i didn't have the courage to open it because i assumed the woman was stalking me. then i heard doors and even windows opening and closing. i tried to speak to her a few times but every time i stepped out of the house she was gone. it was almost as if she had vanished into thin air.

And two weeks before the event, I saw her everywhere. At home, at work, on the way home, in my favorite cafe. everywhere. i only saw her in the corner of my eye. but the really scary thing happened the night before the event. i woke up in the middle of the night because i saw her in my dreams. she ran up to me and asked me for help. but she didn't explain what she wanted me to help her with. she just repeated it until i woke up. a shiver ran down my spine because my door was ajar and i saw her peeking through the slit. i wanted to scream at her to leave me alone, but i couldn't get a sound out. she turned around and disappeared into the darkness.

i contacted the police, but when they searched my house they found no one. there was no sign of a break-in either.

i worked at a tech company as a computer scientist and even though i was earning well i could only just cover my costs. and then there were still the back payments to the tax office. i couldn't even afford a car so i had to walk. i remained optimistic that my situation would change at some point. but most of all i hoped i wouldn't see the woman again.

and then came the event that changed my life. that evening i was walking home from work. it was a friday so it was the weekend and i don't know why but something made me take a detour through a forest. the forest atmosphere was incredibly calming. for the first time, i was able to really reflect. i came to the conclusion that i imagined the older woman as a reaction to my mother's death. that i didn't want to be alone and longed for a mother figure to lean on. i lay down in the grass and closed my eyes.

i was about to sink into the realm of dreams in the middle of the forest when i was suddenly awakened by a loud scream. i jumped up and looked around. i heard a woman screaming from a distance. i don't know why i didn't call the police right away, but i ran in the direction of the noise. i was afraid that someone was in danger that i had to help.

and then i saw them. two older, broad men who had gagged and tied up a young woman. they pressed their hands over the woman's mouth as she screamed in panic for help while they tried to tape it shut with duct tape. as they were still busy with the woman and were inattentive, i was able to pick up a thick stick nearby and sneak up on them. i reached out and pulled the stick over the head of one of them. he fell unconscious and the other first wondered whether he should attack me but then took flight.

the woman cried bitterly and i freed her. then i called the police. in the meantime, i stayed with the crying and traumatized woman and assured her that everything was fine and that nothing would happen to her. the man who had been knocked unconscious was arrested immediately and his partner was arrested as well. the two were wanted criminals who had already taken the life of a middle-aged woman after torturing and raping her.

when an ambulance arrived alongside the police, the woman was given medical treatment while the policemen questioned me. they told me that they needed a witness statement from me and took me to the police station. afterwards, i visited the woman in hospital. and she thanked me from the bottom of her heart. She explained that she was afraid at that moment she would share the fate of her mother, who was also murdered, but now she is happy that she is well. we talked for a while and got to know each other a little. and it got late.

i explained to her that i had to go now but that we would surely see each other again. she thanked me again and said goodbye. when i stepped outside i saw her again. the woman. she was standing on the other side of the street again. although it was raining i could clearly see that she was smiling at me. and then she made a sign for me to follow her.

i took this as a chance to find out what she wanted from me. also because i hoped to finally have my peace. i followed her and while i did so she always kept eye contact even if that meant walking backwards. i was a bit confused but whenever i called out to her where she wanted me to go she just kept quiet and made the gesture again that i should follow her.

she eventually led me to the town cemetery and there to the grave of a ruby miller. when i finally caught up with her she had her back turned to me and was staring at the headstone. she turned and looked me in the eye and i could see that she had tears in her eyes.

she began to speak: "i suppose you're wondering who i am and why i was watching you. after everything that happened, you deserve an answer. the girl you saved today. she's my daughter"

i looked at her in disbelief and replied: "what? that's a very macabre joke, isn't it? she told me her mother is dead".

"she is" she replied and showed me the gravestone. "my name is ruby miller. the men who were arrested today abused and killed me some time ago. they took my daughter's photo from my wallet and told me before they killed me that they would find my daughter and do the same to her."

I didn't know what to say so I just listened carefully.

"in the afterlife, i was looking for a way to help my daughter. souls are no longer bound by time after death. this allowed me to find a solution in different timelines to save my daughter. and in every timeline in which my daughter survived, you were the one who saved her. so i returned to my timeline, tracked you down and led you into the forest.

thank you from the bottom of my heart. i hope you know that you are her guardian angel. finally i can rest in peace now that i know my daughter is safe."

suddenly she pulled a ring she wore on her right hand off her finger.

"i want you to have this. this is my wedding ring. a gift from my husband. we were wealthy. this is a five-carat diamond ring. it was buried with me, but i don't think i have any use for it anymore. but for you, it can be a key out of your difficult situation."

she handed me the ring and came up to me for a hug. i closed my eyes for just a moment and when i opened them again she was gone. the only thing i heard was the rain pattering on the headstones and the grass. i stood in front of the headstone for a few more minutes. i still had the ring in my hand. it was hard to process that moment.

i sold the ring for a good price and was finally able to get rid of a significant amount of my debt. samantha, the woman i saved, became a friend of mine shortly after. but i never told her what happened at the cemetery. or what happened before that fateful day. if i had told her i had met her mother, she would never have believed me. Ruby however never showed up again.

i still cry when i think about it. thank you ruby. sincerely

 

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Credits

Have You Heard Of This App Called: "Are You Being Followed?"

 

I've always been afraid of being attacked on the street at night.

Despite years of working in a bar, and coming home late around midnight, this fear had never left me.

The pay was lousy and the boss forbade employees to park their cars in the parking lot reserved for customers. So every night, I had to walk alone for several minutes to my car parked a little further away.

One day, as I was talking to one of my friends, she told me about this application.

"Don't you know this app? It's called "Are you being followed?" or AYBF for short. Basically, the app detects the waves of nearby cell phones, and if the algorithm notices that a signal is following you, the app sends you a notification," she explained.

"Some say it also detects ghosts and "supernatural" creatures that give off particular waves, but I think that's bullshit to attract views on Tik-Tok," she added.

I couldn't quite figure out how it worked, but she assured me that the algorithm was never wrong, and that it had already allowed her once to be alerted early enough to be safe from a strange guy one night.

I downloaded it, figuring it couldn't hurt.

• 
  

One evening, as I was walking down the street clutching my coat, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

It was the app that had sent me a notification, and on the screen simply appeared the message: "YOU ARE BEING FOLLOWED".

I slowed down and looked around.

The street was deserted, only the wind sounding in my ears.

Perplexed, I continued walking, the sound of my solitary footsteps echoing around me.

A minute later, I received another notification.

"YOU ARE BEING FOLLOWED".

With no one behind me, I wondered if it was a bug or if this app was literally a scam.

"BOO!"

I jumped and shouted.

And right in from of me was my colleague, Ian, wallowing in laughter.

"Sorry sorry I couldn't help it. Here, you forgot your tips," and he handed me a few bills.

"Next time you do that, I'll empty my pepper spray in your face".

Safe in my car, I finally managed to laugh it off, and figured that at least I had proof that the app worked.

• 
  

The app never triggered again after that.

Until tonight.

I'd just finished a long evening and was exhausted. All I wanted to do was go home and go to bed.

As I was walking alone in the cold night, with just enough strength to look at the tips of my feet without falling asleep while walking, my cell phone vibrated and I picked it up, thinking someone had sent me a text message.

"YOU ARE BEING FOLLOWED"

The appearance of the message caught me off guard and woke me up all at once.

I looked around. There was nothing and no one around at this late hour and the temperature was negative.

I thought back to the only time it had gone off and Ian's joke. He knew perfectly well by now that I didn’t find it funny, and I had made it clear that I hoped he wouldn't do it again or he would get his ass kicked.

I stood there, looking back. Looking for someone who obviously didn't exist.

Still suspicious, I resumed my walk, keeping my phone in my hand.

After a minute, it vibrated again.

"YOU ARE BEING FOLLOWED

I looked around again, but there was nothing. I was starting to panic. I was alone, in the middle of the night, and I was beginning to think something was wrong.

A paper cup was pushed by the wind and the noise startled me.

"Is anyone there?" I felt compelled to say aloud.

Obviously, no one answered.

"If there's anyone, I’m warning you, I'm armed," I lied, trying to be as convincing as possible.

When nothing happened, I started to turn around to resume my walk. And at the last moment, out of the corner of my eye, even as I turned my head, I swore I saw something moving in the shadows at the corner of an alley.

It took me a while to process what I'd seen. At first I thought it had been a cat.

No, cats don't have white eyes.

I walked quickly.

"YOU ARE BEING FOLLOWED"

Behind me there was absolute silence.

"YOU ARE BEING FOLLOWED"

Was it the sound of bare feet on the sidewalk I'd just heard?

"YOU ARE BEING FOLLOWED"

I clutched my pepper spray can as I took the last few steps to my car while looking around like a madwoman attacked by imaginary birds.

I closed the car door and locked the doors.

Finally I managed to exhale the air I'd been holding in my lungs.

I didn't wait any longer, not wanting to linger here, and started the engine.

• 
  

Once home, I took a shower and got ready for bed.

It had been a strange night. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why the application had triggered so many times. Wasn't it possible that there had been a malfunction and I'd just imagined what I thought I was hearing and seeing because of the stress?

After a while, I came to the conclusion that the app was bugged and that my overactive imagination combined with my natural fear of being attacked had done the rest.

I put my mobile in my pocket and made several trips to the kitchen to throw away the remains of my dinner.

My cell phone vibrated.

"YOU ARE BEING FOLLOWED"

My breathing stopped.

I stood there for several seconds, staring at my screen.

I raised my head slowly and looked around. I inspected every nook and cranny accessible to my view without making a move.

The light in my bedroom was still off. Apart from that, I couldn't see any place where an intruder might be.

I made my way discreetly towards my bedroom.

Stop stressing, you said it yourself, this app doesn't work.

I continued walking slowly, and put my hand on the light switch just to the left of the door.

I pressed it.

I took a few steps inside, but without a doubt, no intruder, ghost or monster had entered my room.

As I returned to the living room, reassured, my gaze was drawn to the window and the night outside.

And there I saw the pale face of a creature glued to the glass, staring back at me with the two whitest eyes I'd ever seen in my life.

After a second spent trying to understand what I was seeing, I screamed in fear.

• 
  

The police immediately dispatched a patrol car after my panicked call.

The two officers inspected the area around the house without finding anyone who resembled the vague description I'd given them, even though they seemed worried. I had obviously avoided mentioning the fact that what I had seen had white eyes and skin and a bald head.

After a while, they had to leave and told me to call back if I ever saw "someone" at my window again.

I closed all my shutters, and spent the night awake, a knife resting on the living room table.

• 
  

When day broke, I finally got the courage to leave my house.

I looked around it, and saw something the police hadn't seen, or hadn't wanted to tell me.

Just below the window where I'd seen this thing, there were dozens and dozens of bare footprints going from left to right towards all the other windows.

 

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Credits

Pale Death

 

I can't explain it, but the butterflies seem to know where the bodies are.

I've been a park ranger since I was eighteen, and after five years, I really can't imagine doing anything else. I was in the scouts when I was younger, and I've been an avid hiker all my life. Time spent in the woods is time well spent, and the ability to work there every day is honestly a dream come true.

Being a park ranger, you see your fair share of bodies in the woods. People come out here to hike and swim and forget that there are things here that will kill you. They run afoul of animals, they get sucked under in the rapids, they don't pack enough food or water, or they just get lost and aren't found till someone chances upon them.

Spring two thousand twenty-three was the year that we got some help from the butterflies.

It started with the death of Angel Myers, but it certainly didn't end there.

Angel Myers was what you would call a minimalistic camper. She would come in with a few essentials and a blanket, just kind of camp wherever she decided to drop down. She knew which plants would kill her and which ones would nourish her, which was good. She also knew which plants would get her higher than airplane wings, which was bad. We had called the police on Angel several times, but they always cut her loose after a few months, and the rangers refused to toss her a lifetime ban from the park so she just kept coming back.

When a pair of hikers told us they had found a body in an area we knew as The Meadow, we supposed this would be the last time we called the police for her.

She was naked, and it wasn't the first time any of us had seen her in this state. She wasn't bad to look at, but it was always a little weird to find someone stark naked in the elements. She was splayed out, spread eagle, in the flowers that grew in the meadows, and her eyes and tongue were missing. That wasn't terribly uncommon either, not with all the varments in the park, but the little black growths on her skin were definitely something I had never seen before. She had three rows of perfect little spikes, each of them about three inches long and each line about nine spikes long.

Other than the spikes, the strangest part of the whole scene were the butterflies.

They were not a species I was familiar with, and they were bone white with light black patterns on the wings. They were thick over the body, and I assumed they had been what had drawn the hikers. They were circling in a thick cloud, the whites easily seen against the green canopy around them, and I was as amazed by them as I was the weird protrusions on her skin.

"What the hell are these?" I asked, reaching out a finger to test if they were sharp, but finding them squishy and full of green liquid.

"Pallida mors," said Rico, one of the rangers who worked with me.

"One more time in English, for the rest of us," I said.

"Pale Death," he said, pointing to the butterflies, "They're rare, I don't think I've seen one in the flesh. They're supposed to live in the deep woods, and they only come out once every few years to lay eggs."

I pointed to the little row of black spikes running up her thigh, "On corpses?"

Rico nodded, "That's why they call them Palida Mors. They lay their eggs on corpses, though it's usually of animals. I have heard of them laying eggs on human bodies, but it's rare. I guess they found the corpse before we did."

The hikers said the same when we questioned them. They had been hiking to the meadow, his fiance wanting to see it in spring, and as they came to the end of the trail, she had noticed the swarm of pale butterflies and wanted a closer look. She had thought they were so pretty, but as they came closer, they had seen the body and realized what they were swarming around it.

We called the station and got some guys from the coroner's office down to pick her up.

We hoped she would somehow be the last body we found that spring, but I think, even then, I knew this wouldn't be the last body I saw taken from the park that year.

The next one was a hiker named Marcus Dray, and his death was truly terrible.

Some campers had gone fishing in the Conusquat River, the waterway that runs through the park, and as they chased the trout who were beginning their journey to the spawning grounds, one of their kids came across a grizzly sight. He said it looked like a scaled claw was sticking out of the river, and he ran to get his mother, thinking it was a monster. She had expected a rock formation or maybe a stick with some moss on it, but what they found was an arm covered in the black spike pods the butterflies left behind.

"They looked like scales," the mother had said, still a little shaken by the experience, "and I could understand why he thought it was a monster hand. It wasn't until I got closer that I realized it was an arm jutting up from the foam."

At first, we thought the guy had just fallen into the river and gotten stuck between the rocks after drowning. When we pulled him out, however, we got a better idea of the extent of the damage. Something forced him into the small space between the two rocks, and they hadn't done it gently. His shoulders were broken, like snapped in the middle and just folded up. He was crumpled up like a suit coat in the hole, and that wasn't all.

Something had eaten his face.

Not like Angel, where her eyes and tongue were missing. They had eaten his entire face off, down to the skull, and there was nothing left but ragged flesh and scored white bone. If it hadn't been for the arm sticking up, we might have never found him until someone panning for minerals found a finger or a skull.

The butterflies, the Pale Death, presided over the whole thing as we managed to get him onto the shore.

After that, we found four more bodies in a month.

One was left on a mountainside, its hands missing and its nose and lips chewed off. He had been climbing the low-grade mountain we have on the grounds, and when he'd gone missing we thought it might be a small avalanche due to snow melt. When a fisherman found him laid out on the lowest peak of the mountain, however, we knew it was something much worse.

The second was a woman who'd gone into the woods to relieve herself during a picnic and was found in the low branches of a tree, well, half of her was. The other half was high up in the tree, and something had eaten her legs. The husband had to be hospitalized after he identified the top half of his wife, and I felt bad for her kids. They had been here to enjoy a picnic in the park, and something had taken that away from them.

The third was, unfortunately, a child named Kaitlyn Mills. Kaitlyn would have been six in July, but she never got the opportunity. Kaitlyn was the strangest and also the easiest to identify. Kaitlyn had left her parents campsite in the night, but it appeared that whatever had found her had taken an interest in her. Something had taken care of her in the woods. Something had fed her, something had changed her clothes, something had made sure she drank clean water, and then, unfortunately, its care had lapsed. Kaitlyn hadn't died because her face had been eaten off, she had died because her skull had connected with the ground and cracked. It was pretty clear she had fallen out of a tree, but the coroner said she would have needed to fall from a pretty steep height. She was stretched out too, as if something had made her comfortable as she lay dying.

The fourth was the worst, and the reason for what came after.

The fourth was Ranger Franklin Carpenter, and he had gone missing after going to check one of the pump stations. We had six pump stations, things we used to bring clean water to the campgrounds, and he had been responding to a call about a malfunction in station four. He had gone out before lunch, and we found what was left of him the next day after he never came back. If he hadn't died wearing his name tag then we wouldn't have known who it was. His arms and legs were missing and believed to have been eaten. His face was gone, as was the top of his skull and what lay within. Something had gnawed his chest, eaten his buttocks, and chewed his genitals off for good measure. He was just a torso and part of a head when we found him on the edge of the woods, and a lot of us got pretty scared after losing one of our own like that.

Over all four bodies, the butterflies held sway, and their eggs were in evidence.

I expected a visit from the Head Ranger, but when he arrived with a man in a dark suit the next day, we should have known something was about to happen. He had a few other men in similar attire, and Rico lifted an eyebrow as we took our seats at briefing. None of these guys were dressed for more than a slow stroll over concrete paths, but I doubted that was their intention.

"Agent Lee has been gracious enough to come and help us with our little problem. We will be splitting all of you into groups so you can canvas the woods. We need to find whatever is doing this before summer starts, especially with one of our own being a recent casualty. We have a lot of ground to cover, so, Rangers will be splitting off with two of Agent Lee's boys to show them the trails and help them bring this to a close."

So, that's how I found myself in the woods with Agents Fiest and Agent Martin. Agent Lee might have looked like an investment banker, but these two had traded their Brooks Brothers suits for camo and assault rifles. We had broken out the shotguns that we used for putting off angry wildlife to supplement the firepower the Agents had brought, and the three of us proceeded through the woods. Agent Fiest wasn't a big talker, but Agent Martin made up for it by asking questions about what we had seen. I told him about the bodies, the parts that had been eaten, and the butterflies that seemed to hover around everything.

"Butterflies?" Fiest said, and it was probably the only thing I had heard him say in the hour we had been walking.

"Yeah, Rico calls them something in Latin that basically means Pale Death. They show up around the bodies and just kind of mark where they are."

Fiest gave Martin a look and the two nodded knowingly.

"Have you seen anything near the sights? Footprints or scales maybe? Stuff like insect skin?"

I shook my head, "No, mostly just dead people."

I was preparing to ask them what they thought we were looking for since they clearly knew something, when we came through a dense stand of trees and into an open space that was anything but open. It seemed invested with the pale butterflies, and as we stalked in, they fluttered around us almost gladly. The two Agents took this as a good sign but I wasn't sure what to think. These things had been a pretty foul omen in the last few months, and finding a huge number of them now seemed less than ideal.

As we moved into the cloud of butterflies, it also seemed like something was stalking us. Through the thick wave of insects, there was a large shadow that stalked us. It almost appeared human-sized, but the longer I watched it flit through the swarm, it seemed to grow. It may have had as few as two arms, or as many as eight, but the wings I saw stir its smaller kin were what worried me.

They were tall and white, just like the others, and it seemed to be using them as a blind as it lured us deeper.

"It's close," Martin whispered.

"Steady," Fiest said. "If we spook him, he might fly away before we can take him out."

"What?" I half whispered, talking too loud, but too scared to care.

Fiest looked at Martin, shrugging at something in the other's face.

"You've heard of the moth man? Well, there are counterparts to that thing. The people of Joplin talk about how many of their children were saved from a tornado by these "butterfly people," but they assume those who were lost were taken by said tornado, and not the same creatures who saved them. We call them Lycaenidae Bipedus, and they are extremely," but he never got to finish.

Suddenly the cloud of butterflies enveloped us, their small bodies clinging to us as they struck. Our vision was cut off, and as the automatic weapon chattered, I hit my belly and started crawling. I wanted to get out of the swarm, to get away from the wild bark of the gun, and as I crawled, I heard people yelling. The wet sound of something being torn cut off some of the screaming, but the gunfire persisted as I kept making my way out of the cloud of insects.

I kept crawling until I made it out of the clearing, and once I was no longer being buffeted by butterflies, I got up and started running.

I could still hear the gunfire behind me, but I knew that what I wanted was to live.

I knew that if I stayed, I'd be dead, and I still very much wanted to live.

I ran until someone yelled at me to stop and shoved a gun in my face.

It was another one of the Agents, and as they all coalesced, I was ordered to take them back to the spot where I had left Agent Fiest.

As little as I wanted to go back, I agreed.

By the time I found it again, Fiest was sitting on something he had covered with a tarp. Fiest's left arm was hanging uselessly at his side, his clothes were ripped to shreds, but he was grinning like a big game hunter who's bagged the big one.

"Get it to the truck. Tell the boys back at base I had no choice but to kill it. It refused to come peacefully and forced my hand."

Martin was dead, his body covered in a slew of crushed butterflies. I saw him before they could tarp him as well. Something had torn his thrown out, and I assumed it was whatever was under the big tarp that Fiest was guarding. They took both the tarped bodies away, and when Fiest came towards me, I was worried he would be angry that I had fled.

He put a hand on my shoulder instead and nodded in understanding.

"Don't feel bad, kid. I would have run too if I'd had the choice. Both Agent Martin and I knew what we were getting into. You got us here, that's what counts."

They took it away, and the murders stopped.

We lost two more hikers that year, but they were both killed by the elements.

The butterflies left that same day, never (hopefully) to return.

I can’t help but think about that spring again as winter abates and the season gets warmer.

I tell you one thing, I’ll be keeping an eye peeled for butterflies from now on.

 

---

 

Credits

Colors of Fear

  

When I came home from work and saw the package on the front porch, I was filled with an irrational flood of joy.

You would have thought I had received something spectacular, and, to me, I had.

I had been waiting five days for Amazon to send this package, and as I brought it inside and cut the tape, I couldn't wait to see how it looked.

Reaching into the buffer pads, I pulled out not a game or a new Funco Pop, but a single light bulb in a package that seemed bigger than it should have needed to be.

Not just any lightbulb, however, but one of those color-changing LED light bulbs.

I had seen them on TikTok and thought they looked cool. They would go through a whole spectrum of colors, thanks to the little remote they came with, and I thought the whole operation looked very soothing. I liked to watch people lay in bed as the colors shifted, and I thought it might help my recent mood. I'd been experiencing some heavy seasonal depression lately, and the inclusion of some colors might be just what I was missing.

I read the instructions, installed the bulb in my ceiling fan, and smiled as I looked at the little remote in my hand. There were so many colors to choose from, and I felt a giddy sense of anticipation. Which one to try first? Red? Maybe blue?

I settled on a light and buttery yellow. As I lay in my bed, I felt like I was under the kind of suns I had always drawn as a little kid. The yellow was the thick shade of melted crayons, and I was happy as I lay beneath it in my single room. It had been hard to get out in the cold lately, and this made me feel like I was out at the park or under the warm sun at the beach.

It wasn't actually warm, but I could trick my mind into thinking it was.

I lay there for a few minutes, just soaking up the fake sunlight before I got up and went to my computer. As I logged onto World of Warcraft for a little gaming, I looked at the remote and decided on a different color. As I explored the game, I changed colors depending on where I was going. The rusty red of Orgrimmar, the deep green of Stranglethorn, the light blue of the Undercity, back to the sunny yellow of the Barrons, and so on and so on. The bulb had a color for every occasion, it seemed, and I really enjoyed playing with it as the evening progressed.

I fell asleep that first night under the soft dark blue of the night sky and slept deeper than I had in a long time.

In my downtime the following week, I found myself playing with the light and trying out different colors. I discovered a button for mixing colors and found myself making color combinations that turned my room into all kinds of different shades. I found I liked a few of them, the blue and green combinations reminding me of undersea videos I had seen on the Discovery Channel when I was younger. There was the red and yellow of the deep desert, the purple-blue of icy peaks, and I found myself lying in bed some evening after work and trying different combinations.

I fell asleep on Thursday night, the soft blue and deep purple making me think of glaciers, and woke up to a nightmare.

I opened my eyes to find myself floating in a room that looked smeared with blood. The walls held strange shadows, the reds and blacks mingling like filth in a morgue, but that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was the creatures. They were a dirty white that was almost translucent, their eyes like lamps as they stared at my prone form. I wasn't sure what to make of them, at first, and I wondered if I was dreaming? If I was, this was the most realistic dream I had ever had. Their bodies were long and narrow, like pale reeds, and other than their eyes they seemed devoid of features. There were two of them, one in the corner by my desk, and the other perched in the junction of the ceiling and wall.

We stared at each other for some undeterminable time, and I was nearly convinced that I was actually dreaming when my phone chirped and lit up on the nightstand. All three of us looked at the light, and when I looked back at them, the one in the corner of the ceiling had dropped soundlessly to the floor. The skin around the bottom of its head seemed to rip open to reveal a double row of butter-yellow teeth, and his fellow-creature did the same as the two stalked closer to me on their noodly-looking arms.

I whimpered, reaching for the bat I kept beside my bed, and as I turned I must have rolled over onto the remote.

As the bulb changed back to the same buttery yellow I had basked under on the first day, I came up with the bat out in front of me to find the room devoid of nightmare creatures.

I turned it back to normal fluorescents and looked around in a panic, trying to figure out what had just happened.

I was still awake when the sunrise lit the windows, and I wasn't sure I'd ever sleep again with the image of those creatures thumping around in my head.

I tried to get about my morning routine, getting ready for work and getting breakfast together, but the image of those horrible things wouldn't leave me. They followed me through my day, dogging my steps as I tried to get my work done. By lunch, I was a mess, and when my boss saw me in the breakroom, my shaking hands struggling to open my lunch bag, she told me I looked ill and said I should go home and get some rest.

"You look ill, dear. Take the rest of the day, have a good weekend, and we'll see you Monday."

I told her that wasn't necessary, but she insisted.

I was grateful for the chance to get some rest, but I found my anxiety growing as I got home.

The same place I had seen those horrors.

I checked the corners where I had seen them, hoping to find some sign that it had just been a dream, and was rewarded with nothing. There were no marks on the eggshell white walls, no sign of claws or dirt from the filthy skin of the creatures, but it did little to soothe me. Sign or not, I knew I hadn't been dreaming, and that meant that these things had to be real. The idea that I couldn't see them, that they only existed in the dark, was even more terrifying, but despite my fear, the need to find out what they were and how they had disappeared wouldn't leave any sign wouldn’t leave me.

I started by just turning off the lights, but I didn't think that would do much good. I had woken up in the dark plenty of times, and I had never seen anything like these creatures. No, I thought, it had to have something to do with that light that had been covering the walls. It had changed when I rolled onto the remote, and whatever combination I had bumped had allowed me to see the creatures. I knew about things you couldn't see with the naked eye, things that were too small or hard to see outside the right color spectrum, and I wondered if these things were like that.

More importantly, if I could only see them in that spectrum, then was it a two-way street?

Could they only see me when that spectrum was on?

It might explain why they didn't attack me otherwise.

I didn't want to see them, the thought of looking at them terrified me, but I was curious as well. The thought of them followed me as surely as the creatures might, and I needed to be sure of what they were. I was no scientist, not by a long shot, but my desire for answers was greater than my self-preservation in this case.

I started playing with different color combinations on the remote, my bat always at the ready. Before you ask, I tried red and black, but it gave me something like a desert cave more than anything. The remote was small, but if you held the buttons, the colors would change further. They would get darker or lighter, they would change depth and perception, and the combinations really were vast. My computer sat untouched that weekend, my books and TV left to catch dust, and by Sunday I was a mess. I hadn't slept much that weekend. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see were the faces of the monsters that had stalked me, and my rest was thin.

When someone knocked on the door, I jumped and looked around fitfully.

I peeked down the hallways as someone knocked again, and when Debby called my name, I realized it wasn't a monster trying to trick me out of my little cocoon.

I didn't even realize I wasn't dressed for company until I made it to the door. I was in clothes that my mother would have called grubs, and my hair was loose and unwashed. I likely smelled, I hadn't showered since Friday morning, and I was extremely self-conscious as I opened the door to my apartment. Debby smiled, bundled up against the cold, and when she saw the state of me, she came right in and asked me what was wrong.

"Wendy said they had sent you home on Friday with some kind of sickness, and I see why now. You look terrible. It's not the COVID, is it?" she asked, pulling her scarf over her nose and mouth.

"No, I'm not actually sick," I admitted.

"Then what's going on? Have you been sleeping okay? Here," she said, taking some egg drop soup from a bag and setting me on the couch, "I brought your favorite sick soup to help you get passed this."

I smelled, realizing that I hadn't eaten since the night before when the delicious steam hit my nose.

Bless her, Debby was a true friend.

As we sat, Debby had brought dumplings to go along with the soup, I told her about the weird creatures I had seen. Unlike me, Debby looked excited at the prospect of seeing something different. Debby was into things like ghost hunting and cryptids, and she loved the idea of actually getting to see one.

"Oh my gosh, you have to let me help. Come on, we'll have a picnic in your room. If this is making you sick, I want to help you see it through."

I was glad for her help, but I didn't want to get her caught in the same crap I was likely to get caught in. Debby was my best friend, and the thought of the creatures getting her too, all thanks to my curiosity, was something I would rather avoid. Debby, however, was not taking no for an answer. We took the food to my room, and I showed her the remote and the lightbulb. Debbie scratched her chin as she looked at the buttons, asking if I was sure it was the red and black ones as she started working through the settings.

"When I woke up it was definitely red and black, but it was different. It was greasy looking, ethereal, not quite real. It was like a dream, that's why it took me so long to realize I was awake."

Debby started changing the colors in quick succession, the colors dancing as they went through the spectrums. I was afraid she would burn it out, the colors changing too quickly for my liking, but she just shook her head. She said it would be fine, they were meant to sustain these kinds of things, and it would speed it up if she just kept flipping through.

So, we sat there eating and flipping the lights at an almost nauseating pace for the next few hours.

The sun went down and the moon came up, and as I lay on the bed and played on my phone, I realized it was almost midnight.

I had to go back to work the next day, and I told Debby I needed to get to bed.

"I appreciate your help, but I've gotta be up early in the morning."

"Just a little more," Debby said, the lights still dancing by, "I know I can do it."

I rolled over and shook my head, reaching for the remote, "I appreciate your help, but I just don't think it can be done."

She moved a little away, still flipping through the colors as I reached, and as I came off the bed, she scuttled a little further off.

"Come on, just a little longer. You can be a little tired tomorrow for a good night's sleep, right?"

"No, Debby, I'm tired. I need to,"

I grabbed the remote, Debby pulling back, and that's when it fell over us.

I don't know how, but we were both suddenly enveloped in the aura of dirty red and black light. The walls oozed like fresh blood, the dark hung around them like smog, and I was suddenly aware that we weren't alone. There were more than two this time, their numbers nearly a dozen as they clung to the walls and ceiling like grizzly insects. Debby's mouth hung open, her scream stuck midway up her throat, and I realized this had likely not been what she was expecting.

As their mouths split their faces, their teeth huge, my hands shook and my stomach dropped.

They fell on us then, and I rolled under the bed without thinking. Debby's scream came out, loud and strong, and I pulled my knees to my chest as I tried to think of what to do. They were killing her, they were killing my best friend, and the only thing I could think of was changing the lights back. It had worked the first time, maybe it would work now.

I looked around, finding the remote on the ground, but as I reached for it, I saw the giant yellow eyes find me.

One of those noodly arms came reaching for me, and as my fingers found the plastic face, I pushed the first button I could find and snatched it away from the sharp teeth of the creature.

The light returned to something like normal before it popped loudly, and I was left in darkness. I took out my phone and turned on the light, looking around to make sure they had gone. I found the remains of our picnic, but that was all I discovered.

By the light on my phone, I discovered that the creatures were gone, but Debby was also gone.

I've ordered another light bulb, but it won't arrive until tomorrow. I paid for express shipping, but I don't know if that will be soon enough to save Debby. I don't want to see those things ever again, but if there's a chance that Debby is still alive, I have to find her.

She wanted to help me, and now it's my turn to try and help her.

So be careful with your new light bulb if you buy one.

You may see more than you bargained for, and you may lose more than the cost of shipping.

 

---

 

Credits

Things Are Disappearing From My House. And I'm Terrified By Who Might Be Taking Them

 

The first time it happened, I didn't think much of it.

I had left my house for work in the morning, just as I always did, and when I got home that night... my yucca plant was gone.

The second time it happened, I honestly assumed it was my wife.

Again, I had left my house for work in the morning, and when I got home that night... my umbrella was gone.

But then I remembered, that my wife had left the house earlier than me that day, and got home after me. In addition to the fact that, it wasn't even supposed to rain.

The third time it happened, well... is when I started to get suspicious of the bizarre disappearances, and began to wonder whether something... else was going on inside my home.

Yet again, I had left my house for work in the morning, and when I got home that night, lo and behold... my record player was gone.

In all three instances, no matter where I looked for the lost items around the house, no matter how hard I tried to find them, they were nowhere to be found.

This continued happening enough times, that I eventually decided to keep a log, to track everything that was disappearing.

And so, I vowed that after a month of logging the missing possessions, I would scour the list, for some sort of common denominator. Some sort of motivation for why this was happening.

But just a day before the end of the month, I left my house for work in the morning, and when I got home that night... the log, itself, was gone.

That's when I realized, that anything I wanted to keep, I'd better take with me when I left my house for work in the morning, lest it be swept away to wherever all of the missing things had been swept away to.

So, that's exactly what I did, creating an itemized list of only the things I couldn't live without, by auditing every material object that I owned.

And, in the process, I was incredibly surprised, by both the amount of stuff that I'd accumulated over the years, and the relatively small amount of stuff that I really needed.

Once the list was complete, I would run through the same meticulous routine every morning, placing the most cherished of my personal belongings into a combination of my pockets, and a backpack, that I had bought for this very purpose.

But one day, I left my house for work in the morning and forgot the backpack, and when I got home that night... it, too, was gone.

After this had gone on for about two months, so many household items had disappeared, that my wife had assumed that I had been decluttering the home, purging it of my unwanted things.

This was, of course, not the case, but I was too afraid to tell her the truth, too afraid that she'd think it was all... preposterous. So I just played along.

However, I was so disappointed with myself for lying to my wife, and at the same time, so frustrated with the disappearing items, that I swore to put an end to the situation, once and for all.

So I ordered a surveillance camera, and as soon as it arrived, I installed it, before leaving my house for work in the morning.

But when I got home that night... sure enough, the camera was gone.

That's when I realized, that whoever, or whatever, was taking my things, was aware that I was aware of it, and was actively thwarting my attempts to thwart it.

But that only made me want to thwart it even more.

The next week, I faked being sick, calling out from work each day, for the sole purpose of
coming up with a plan for how to stop the mysterious disappearances, or find out who, or what, was behind them, or both.

That's when I had the realization, that nothing seemed to disappear when my wife left the house, and only when I did.

Since I'd been married to her for eight years, and was fairly certain she wasn't the one hiding my things, I grew confident that there was someone, or something, else, in the house, who was specifically taking my things, whenever I left.

So, I reached out to my company's HR contact, requesting to work remotely, and less than a month later, the request got approved, and I started working from home.

Sure enough, a month went by, and nothing was stolen.

Which led me to wonder, whether it had actually been my wife's doing, after all. Rationalizing that even though she did tend to leave the house before me and get back after me every day, she could easily come home during her lunch break.

It took me a week to gather the courage to confront her about it, and I finally accused my wife of eight years and trusted confidant, of something completely outlandish. And just as I had feared, she thought it was all... preposterous.

And, as to be expected, she could not have been more offended. We had the worst fight of our marriage that night, and both went to bed upset.

And so, the next day, I decided to sacrifice a physical possession, in order to make it up to Sarah, leaving my house for work in the morning, with the sole purpose of buying her flowers.

But when I got home that night... gift in hand, and ready to apologize, this time...

...Sarah, herself, was gone.

I should have known that she, too, had been taken away, but I was so obsessed with understanding the situation, that I convinced myself that Sarah, still angry at me from the night before, must have up and left.

And with Sarah gone, I could finally know for sure, whether she was the one behind everything.

Once again, I left my house for work in the morning, and when I got home that night... the flowers that I had bought for Sarah the day before were gone... and she had still not returned.

But rather than accept the truth, I remembered that she still had the keys to the house.

So, the next day, I hired a locksmith to change every lock in the home, before leaving my house for work in the morning.

But when I got home that night... my coffee table was gone.

And that's when I knew, for certain, that Sarah wasn't the one behind the strange disappearances. That's when I knew, that she was actually the victim of them, and that something... else was undoubtedly in the house.

My wife now missing, I cried myself to sleep hard that night, clenching at the very sheets, that she once slept upon beside me.

The next morning, I thought about calling the police, but I knew that the tale would sound so far-fetched, that they'd never believe me.

My sadness quickly turned to rage, and I proceeded to tear my home apart, searching under every bed, inside every closet, behind every curtain, and around every corner, for any sign of the culprit, or the missing items, or both, leaving no stone unturned.

But ultimately, I found... nothing.

That's when I remembered...

...The basement...

...Or lack thereof.

The truth is, when we first bought the home, we were told that there had once been a basement, but at some point over the years, one of its previous owners had sealed it off, leaving no trace of a stairway downstairs.

If I could just find such a stairway, or secret passage to the cellar, I just might be able to find the culprit, who I imagined would be sitting there: surrounded by a heaping pile of everything that had gone missing... including my wife.

But no matter where I looked, I found... nothing.

Defeated, depressed, and terrified, all at the same time, I strongly considered moving to an entirely new house, but ultimately, I couldn't bring myself to leave the place that I'd called home for the past eight years of marriage.

Instead, my obsession with figuring out who, or what, had taken my wife, and to where, consumed me, and led me to drastic measures.

And so, I started clearing out the house, selling off anything anyone would buy, and giving away anything left over. Until my once cluttered home... was reduced to an empty shell of its former self.

When I finally got rid of the last item, I collapsed onto the rugless floor of the now barren living room, and sat there in silence, exhausted from what I'd just done, but at the same time, satisfied with the fact that whoever, or whatever, had been stealing my things, had nothing left to steal.

That is... until I started to doubt myself, questioning every decision that I had made, and thereby, my very grasp on reality.

I must have sat there in silence for thirty minutes, internally beating myself up about it, until I heard a rattling noise below me...

...Suddenly, in the middle of the empty living room... a trap door popped open. The very trap door, to the basement, that I had been previously looking for.

Sitting on the floor, directly behind the now upright door, and out of the line of sight of whoever, or whatever, opened it...

...I suddenly saw a disfigured hand, slowly reach out for something on the floor nearby...

...It was a pencil, that I must have overlooked during the cleanse, the last object left to steal...

...Before I heard it speak.

"I'll be back for you tomorrow." Whatever it was, called out from behind the trap door.

And like that...

...It took the pencil.

I then heard it climb back into the basement, and saw the trap door shut behind it, as I still sat there on the floor, quietly cowering in fear.

That was today...

...And tomorrow, my only hope...

...Is that it doesn't take me too.

 

---

 

Credits