I’ve walked the woods behind my property hundreds of times, but two days ago everything felt wrong from the moment I stepped between the trees.
It was just after sunset. The air was too still, like the whole forest was holding its breath. No crickets, no birds, not even wind moving the leaves. I only planned to go a short distance, but I kept walking deeper, almost like something was pulling me.
That’s when I heard it, footsteps matching mine, but slightly out of sync. When I stopped, they took two extra steps before going silent. I called out, thinking it was another person. No answer. Instead, I heard a low, wet breathing sound coming from somewhere behind a cluster of thick pines, like lungs that weren’t used to air.
I turned on my flashlight and swept the beam. For just a second, I saw it: a tall, pale shape standing unnaturally straight between two trees. It had no face — just smooth, stretched skin where features should be. Its arms were too long, hanging past its knees. The worst part? It was already looking directly at me, like it had been watching the whole time.
I ran.
The thing didn’t run after me. It just… walked. I could hear those slow, deliberate steps behind me the entire way out, always the same distance away no matter how fast I sprinted. When I finally burst out of the tree line near my house, the footsteps stopped.
But before I slammed the back door shut, I swear I heard a whisper from the edge of the woods. It sounded like my own voice, calmly saying my name.
I haven’t slept since. And last night, I looked out the window around 3 a.m. and saw a tall silhouette standing right where the trees begin… still watching.
It was just after sunset. The air was too still, like the whole forest was holding its breath. No crickets, no birds, not even wind moving the leaves. I only planned to go a short distance, but I kept walking deeper, almost like something was pulling me.
That’s when I heard it, footsteps matching mine, but slightly out of sync. When I stopped, they took two extra steps before going silent. I called out, thinking it was another person. No answer. Instead, I heard a low, wet breathing sound coming from somewhere behind a cluster of thick pines, like lungs that weren’t used to air.
I turned on my flashlight and swept the beam. For just a second, I saw it: a tall, pale shape standing unnaturally straight between two trees. It had no face — just smooth, stretched skin where features should be. Its arms were too long, hanging past its knees. The worst part? It was already looking directly at me, like it had been watching the whole time.
I ran.
The thing didn’t run after me. It just… walked. I could hear those slow, deliberate steps behind me the entire way out, always the same distance away no matter how fast I sprinted. When I finally burst out of the tree line near my house, the footsteps stopped.
But before I slammed the back door shut, I swear I heard a whisper from the edge of the woods. It sounded like my own voice, calmly saying my name.
I haven’t slept since. And last night, I looked out the window around 3 a.m. and saw a tall silhouette standing right where the trees begin… still watching.