1 Hour of Chilling Black Screen Horror Stories to Haunt your Sleep

I looked out the window as the sun set over an endless sea of clouds floating below, looking every bit like I was sailing on my way to heaven. But inside the plane was a different story. I was sitting in premium economy class—translation: the cattle car—with around an inch of extra leg room. As I glanced longingly up the aisle towards the first-class section, a man who looked like he weighed easily 350, if not 400 lb, sat in the seat beside me. I say "sat," but it was more of a struggle than that; it was like

watching someone trying to shove a beach ball into a balloon. When he finally squeezed his way into the seat, he looked at me and smiled sheepishly. I'm sure he was embarrassed, just as I was sure that I would regret having the window seat when the horrible moment came that I had to go to the bathroom. I thought they had a weight limit for passengers. I suppose when you buy cheap seats, you get what you pay for. I tried to get the company to spring for first class, but they wouldn't hear it; premium economy was as

high as they would go. I guess I see where their top salesman ranks. Okay, maybe not the top salesman, but I do sell some. Anyway, I tried to settle in beside my new best buddy, whom in my mind I affectionately labeled "the blimp." This was going to be the longest 9-hour flight of my life. I spent the first hour trying in vain to get some work done on my laptop. That was when my bladder betrayed me. I tried to ignore it and keep working for another half hour, but then it was time. I got an

emergency notice from down below: go to the bathroom or go in your pants. I surrendered and began the long process of trying to wake the blimp. I nudged him, then pushed him, then pinched him. Finally, he roused from his slumber like a sleeping dragon. "Are we there already?" he said, yawning. "No, sorry, I have to use the restroom," I said. He looked at me as if I had just asked him to skip the next several meals. "Can't you hold it?" he asked. My mind ran through an entire list of expletives and derogatory remarks that I

would have loved to respond with, but in the end, I went with the one most likely not to get me eaten when I eventually tried to sleep. "No, I can't hold it for another 7-plus hours," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He grunted and began the long extrication process as my bladder screamed for mercy. Finally, he stood and stepped into the aisle, knocking the hat off the person sitting in front of us. "Watch it, bud," the man said. The blimp stepped aside and pointed at me as I tried to get around him to rush

back toward the restrooms. Both doors said "occupied." I tried the first door just to be sure. "Someone's in here," a woman's voice sang. I tried the second one. "Can't you read?" came an irritated voice from inside the room. "It's occupied." I stood there, enduring the pain of an overfull bladder. Having no other choice, I looked around to see if there was a garbage can with an empty soda bottle, but there wasn't. Just when I was sure my bladder was about to explode, I heard the latch open, and a large man stepped out of the bathroom.

He glared at me. "You got a problem with letting people use the John in peace?" " Nope," I said as I dodged past him and into the bathroom. I whipped around and latched the door. "Hey," the man said from the other side. "I wasn't done talking to you." I ignored him as he pounded on the door. I was too busy relieving myself to pay attention until I heard, "I'll be waiting out here for you." "Great," I thought, "now some big good ol' boy wants to kick my ass." I finished and was about to flush when

I paused instead. Maybe I can wait him out, I thought. I put the seat down and sat. After a while, I looked at my watch, and it had been 10 minutes. Surely, he would be gone by now. I reached for the latch when I heard the other door open. "Excuse me, ma'am," I heard him say as the woman in the other bathroom walked by. He was waiting, and I was sure it wasn't to say that he understood my urgency and wanted to apologize for taking so long. I sat back down and contemplated my options: A)

sit here for the rest of the flight, B) go out and get my ass kicked. I didn't like either option. The plane suddenly rocked so hard I was thrown against the wall. I saw stars. It took me a minute to recover and stand to go see what had happened when I was thrown against the wall again—this time, I nearly lost consciousness. I cautiously reached for the door handle when, the third time was the charm. I hit the wall, and the lights went out. I woke to cold water slapping me in the face. I thought I'd

fallen asleep and a stewardess was waking me up. The reality was so much worse; there was water in the room. I'm not talking about a puddle on the floor—I'm talking about water halfway to the ceiling. I had my own pool. For the first time in my life, instant panic set in. Had a water pipe burst, and I bumped the sink before I went unconscious and flooded the room? I didn't want to be responsible for the carpet cleaning cost. I reached for the door and tried to... open it, but it was stuck. Was the big guy

leaning against it trying to teach me a lesson about being impatient? I pushed again, and it gave a bit. I planted my feet against the toilet and shoved with all my might; finally, the door opened. My worst nightmare couldn't be as bad as what I saw: there was water everywhere, the seats were covered, and there were only a few feet of air from the top of the seats to the ceiling of the plane. I saw heads bobbing above the water. I sloshed through and saw people still in their seat belts, unconscious. I unfastened the closest

to me and saw they had life preservers around their necks. I looked around for one for myself. I glanced over, and there was Blimp, still fastened into his seat, not moving. I shook him, but he didn't respond. I unfastened his seat belt, but he was wedged in and couldn't float out. I struggled to release him but realized he hadn't moved the entire time. I checked for a pulse, but he was gone. I pulled the life preserver over his head and put it on my own. I looked up the aisle and saw many more heads bobbing.

I also saw the water had risen. Panic gripped me and told me I was about to drown. I started swimming my way toward the front, hoping to find the emergency exit on the way. I unlatched as many seat belts as I could. All the passengers looked like they were unconscious, but just in case, I made it to the emergency door and tried to open it. It was harder to open than the bathroom door. I pushed with all my might, and it barely budged. I wished I had the big angry guy with me right about now,

but I was the only one I’d seen moving. A few of the passengers I’d released floated toward me, but their eyes remained closed for what seemed like hours. I struggled to open the emergency door to no avail. I paused to take a breather when I heard a horrible sound. It was like a screeching and stretching of something inhuman, like a monster in its death throes. I looked around, trying to find the source of this horrible sound when I noticed the ceiling had begun to rip apart above me. The screeching sound got louder as the water

level rose. The front and back of the plane seemed to be taking on more water, and I was standing right in the middle. The water level rose as the crack grew, and my feet no longer touched the floor. The water had risen so high that my life preserver was floating me up toward the ceiling. The problem was, the ceiling was full of jagged edges waiting to rip me to shreds. I rose, unable to stay down, going straight toward the sharp metal and plastic. Suddenly, the plane ripped in two, pulling the edges of the two sides

away from me and shooting me up to the surface of the water while the plane was dragged toward the bottom of the ocean. I popped up and down on the ocean waves, made worse by the displacement of the water from a huge passenger plane. I looked around, but it was dark, and all I could see were stars and a thumbnail moon. I swished the water with my hand, moving in a circle, but I couldn't see anything. The sea was pitch black, with only a shimmer of moonlight reflecting off of it. I focused on the shimmer,

hoping to see something move: a boat, a buoy, anything that might be in the water that could rescue me. After a while, I was about to give up when I saw something pass through the shimmer. It wasn't there for long, and it wasn't very far from me. I started swimming toward it when a terrible thought struck me: what if it was a shark? I stopped swimming and stayed as still as possible. My blood froze, even though the water wasn't that cold. I had no idea where I was or where anyone else was, and I had

no desire to become a snack. As these thoughts raced through my mind, making me want to jump out of the water and run toward land, cartoon-style, I felt something touch my leg. My body involuntarily made use of the endless bathroom I was floating in. I didn't move. I used every ounce of determination, fueled by the sheer terror, to stay as still as possible. I waited for an eternity. Nothing happened. Just as I was about to breathe the sigh of relief, something touched me again. It was toying with me, tenderizing me, waiting for me to lose

it and start thrashing around so it could enjoy its meal. It bumped me again, this time on my head. Wait a minute, I thought. Sharks don't jump out of the water to get whatever it is that's already in their reach. I took a deep breath and turned around to see what had been touching me. It was a fellow passenger floating in their life preserver. In fact, it was the man who had been in the bathroom. I breathed a sigh of relief. "So, you made it too," I said. The man stared at me silently. "You're not

still mad at me with that silly bathroom thing, are you?" I said. He refused to speak. "Let it go, man," I said. "Be happy we made it through this." His eyes penetrated mine. "Fine, be mad if you want." He then turned his eyes away from me and stared off into the distance. "What?" I asked. "What do you see? What's out there?" I turned and scanned the horizon to see what it was that he had spotted. As hard as I looked, I didn't... "See a thing? What did you—" I trailed off. He was gone. I was

once again alone in a sea of darkness. I questioned if he'd ever been there at all. What was happening to me? Was I losing my mind? As I questioned my sanity, I heard something off in the distance. I listened for a long time before I heard it again. It was a whistle—not like someone whistling a tune, but a plastic whistle someone would use to call for help. This stirred a memory. I looked down at my life preserver, and sure enough, there was a plastic whistle attached to it. I pulled it free and began blowing it

in answer. After several loud blasts, I waited. There was a whistle in answer. I began swimming toward where I'd heard the sound. After a few minutes, I stopped to rest and blew my whistle again. When the return whistle came, I was surprised to find the sound didn't come from in front of me, but off to my right. I must have gotten turned around somehow. I started swimming in the direction of the sound and stopped to blow my whistle once again. The answering whistle didn't come from in front of me, but off to the left—almost behind

me. "Am I swimming too hard and going right past them?" I thought. I decided to stay still for a few minutes and then blow my whistle. When the answer came, it was in a completely different spot. I tried to test my theory that it wasn't me that was moving. I stared in the direction of the last whistle and waited for a minute. When the answering call came, this time it was right behind me. The stranger thing was it seemed like no matter what I did, the whistle never got any closer or farther away. I was

getting creeped out, and I stopped whistling. After a while, I heard the whistle again, this time from in front of me. I refused to move for an answer. After a while, I heard it again, still in front of me. There was no doubt in my mind; someone was playing games. My first and most obvious guess was the guy from the bathroom. He seemed like the kind to play mind games on someone, but would he go further? As far as I knew, we were in the ocean alone. I had no idea how many had made it

out of the plane, but I was sure the guy wouldn't be able to convince them all to play along with his stupid little game when they were fearing for their lives. The darkness began to fade as the first vestiges of light fought against it, turning the sky still gray. The light brought me hope and would also bring me answers. This guy could hide and play games in the dark, but the light would reveal his deception. As the gray sky turned lighter and gave way to orange, then white, yellow, I saw dots all around the surface

of the water. I swam toward one and found it was another passenger. "Glad to see you made it," I said. "I was indisposed at the time. Any idea what happened?" The woman looked back at me with empty eyes. "Hello?" I said, waving my hand in front of her face and snapping my fingers. She didn't respond. I reached over and felt her neck for a pulse, waiting to be slapped for being so forward, but the only slap I received was reality—she had no pulse. She was dead. I felt helpless. I wanted to say something, to do

something, but there was nothing to be done. A woman slowly floated away from me. I looked around and saw several others bobbing on the water. There were at least a dozen of them. "Hello!" I called out. "Is anyone else alive?" My eyes searched the faces one by one, looking for any sign of a response, but I found none. Hopelessness turned to determination. This was something I could do. I could check these people to see if they were sleeping or... I swam to the closest one and checked for a pulse. Nothing. I swam to the next,

and the next, and again—nothing. When I got done checking those I'd seen first, a few more popped up a little further away that I must have missed. I checked them all until I was done. I had discovered 32 people who managed to get out of their seat belts, only to perish some other way. The strange thing was I didn't notice any obvious injuries; there were no head wounds that I saw, and no cloud of blood circling any of them. It was like they just gave up. I checked the last body, and to my astonishment, it

was the man from the bathroom—the same one who had bumped into me last night. Had he been alive then? I thought so, but the more I replayed our encounter, the less I believed he had been alive. More than likely, he just had to bump into me as his dead body floated in the water. As I was pondering this, I saw another body. I swam over to check it, then I stopped cold. I recognized this guy; it was someone I had already checked. But that was impossible! I had checked him over a dozen bodies ago. Had

I gone in a circle? Everywhere I looked, there was nothing but water—with no frame of reference and no land. I could have gotten turned around. And then I looked up—the sun was high in the sky. Once it started going down, I would have the ultimate reference. I couldn't possibly lose the sun. Then I saw dark clouds on the horizon, reminding me how wrong I was. I hoped and wished and prayed for them to turn... Around and go in another direction, but they didn't. Slowly they approached, like a blanket of doom. As I watched the approaching

clouds, one of the people near me suddenly disappeared under the water. My eyes grew wide at this apparition; they didn't slip out of their life preserver. It would have stayed on the surface. I was fairly sure it wasn't my imagination, but after the last few hours, I wasn't 100% sure of anything. I had to entertain the idea that I might be slipping into madness. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten or drank anything, and I was sure that I had swallowed minuscule amounts of seawater since the crash. Come to think of it, I've been

feeling lethargic. I'm pretty sure that's one of the signs of seawater poisoning, or it could be the fact that I hadn't slept in who knows how long. As these thoughts rolled through my mind, the passenger popped back up. He looked the same, but his head was tilting to the side. I wondered if I was just imagining it when I saw the water around him was tinged with red. It reminded me of that scene in Jaws when the sheriff sees the first shark attack with his own eyes, and the camera zoomed in on his shocked and

horrified face. That's how I felt at that moment; only I wasn't watching a movie. The danger was real, and it was swimming right beside me. I looked around and spotted the first fin cruising ominously along the water among the bodies. It went under the water, and soon another passenger dipped out of sight. She returned a few minutes later, also with her head listing on its side and a red tinge to the water surrounding her. The shark must have eaten part or most of their legs, disturbing the balance of the body that held them straight up.

Panic consumed me. I tried to stay as still as possible, knowing that sharks are attracted to movement. Every fact from every shark week I'd ever watched rushed through my head. I turned as slowly as panic would allow, trying to keep track of the shark when I caught sight of another fin and another, with blood in the water. There was no doubt it would become a feeding frenzy. As I wallowed in desperation, I heard the whistle again, off in the distance. This time it was no long mournful note; it was sharp, panicked blasts. I started swimming

towards the whistle slowly, trying not to splash too much. The benefit was I was swimming away from where the sharks were feeding. I started to feel relieved when I heard another salvo of whistles. It struck me how they seemed to convey a sense of alarm, even bordering on hysteria. Was I going from the proverbial frying pan to the fire? Was the mysterious whistler being attacked by sharks too? Or even worse, was there even anyone whistling? I had tried to get close to the whistles earlier but couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. Was this some

trick? Was there some creature luring me to some horrible doom? I'd heard stories of sirens leading men to their deaths. I wasn't sure if I believed such fairy tales or not, although the longer I attempted to track down the mysterious whistle, the more my mind opened up to supernatural possibilities. It was almost a moot point; I was so tired my arms felt like they were encased in concrete. Rescue seemed more unlikely by the moment. I stopped swimming because I desperately needed a break. I turned to look back at the swarm of fins amongst the red

water and shreds of life preservers. I hoped I was far enough away from the carnage to escape notice. I turned back to the shock of my life; up in the distance, I could see something big. Was it an island? My mind screamed with joy, but then reality set in: how would I reach something so far away? My hopes came crashing down. I closed my eyes in despair; hopelessness threatened to drown me long before the water could. When I opened my eyes, I knew I was dreaming. The island had somehow gotten closer. I rubbed my eyes

to make sure I wasn't seeing things. When I opened them, sure enough, the island was even closer. That was it; I had lost my mind. I was delusional, hearing and seeing things that weren't there. I knew then I was close to death. The island continued to grow larger, coming straight at me. I finally realized the island was a ship; I was saved. The ship continued to grow as it steamed straight toward me. I saw for the first time it was an oil tanker, and it was about to kill me. My savior would be my doom.

I resigned myself to the fact that I would survive a plane crash, be tormented by ghostly whistling, avoid being eaten by sharks, only to be run over by a ship that could save me. As a tear rolled down my cheek, I was deafened by a loud blast; the horns on the ship blew, and I saw it began to turn away from me. Even better; instead of dying, the ship would turn away from me without even knowing how close it was to rescuing me. As depression set in, I noticed the ship was slowing as it turned.

Just before it got to me, it stopped. The wave slammed into me, threatening to pull me under. I waited and stared up at the massive side of the ship, looking as though it was as tall as a skyscraper. Within minutes, I heard the whine of a smaller boat's engine. A man pulled up beside me in a boat. "Are you all right?" he asked. I was shocked and overjoyed; I couldn't speak. He grabbed me and helped me into the boat. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, looking into my eyes. "Yeah, I'm..." I whispered, surprised at the

raspiness of my voice. "Is there anyone else here?" he asked. It took me a while to think. I was following a whistle. He looked around, then started the boat off in another direction. Before I knew it, he stopped and pulled someone else out of the water. It was a woman I didn't recognize. He sat her at the far end of the boat. "Are you okay?" he asked her. She looked at him with empty eyes but didn't answer. I could empathize with her; the shock of the last 24 hours must have rendered her mute. I saw

the whistle in her hand and knew she was the one I'd been chasing. "Did you see anyone else?" he asked her. She didn't look at him and said nothing. He hung his head and turned the boat to head back to the ship. When we got there, he hugged the boat onto wires that hung down and shouted up to the deck. The boat started rising. I knew I was finally safe. The woman looked up for the first time. She looked at the man who had rescued us and grinned. There was something wrong with her grin; it

was too big. There was no way her mouth could be human. Her teeth grew impossibly long and pointy, and her face turned green. Her clothes melted away into the form of some lizard-like fish-looking creature. She dove at the man and sank her teeth into his neck. He screamed as she viciously attacked, ripping and tearing at his face, arms, and chest. It wasn't long until he was nothing but a bloody lump of flesh. She turned to me and dove, watching him being torn apart. My heart had given me a moment to acknowledge what had happened. I

focused all my energy on one desperate plan. As she dove toward me, I kicked with all I had. My foot impacted her in the face and changed her direction. Instead of diving at me, the kick turned her, and she sailed over the edge of the rising boat. I listened to the inhuman shriek as she fell all the way down to the water. I laid back in the boat, exhausted mentally and physically. I opened my eyes when I felt the boat lurch to a stop. The crewmen looked into the boat and recoiled as they saw the

remains of their crewmate lying next to me. They backed away and called for the captain. Once he arrived and surveyed the scene, he ordered me to be taken to a room and cleaned up, and the remains to be removed. It was sometime later, after I'd slept, that there came a knock on the door. The captain came in and sat down beside my bed. "Have you gotten some rest?" he asked. "Yes, thank you," I said, "and thank you for rescuing me." "Unfortunately, you can no longer thank the person responsible for your rescue," he said to me.

"I don't understand," I replied. "The man who came down in the boat is the one who spotted you in the water and called for the ship to stop," he said. "Oh," I replied. "Would you like to tell me what happened?" he asked. I sighed deeply. "Where do you want me to start?" I asked. "The beginning is a good place." This happened when I was four, so I don't remember all the minor details, but my mom does, and we kind of traced back this whole thing when I suddenly got reminded of it because of reading a

similar story. I'll try my best to explain and add the bits from my mom's memory. We used to live in a very rural area at the time and owned a small farm. Most people in that area had their own farmlands, but the houses were located about five miles away from the area where all the farms were. It was the time when we only had one cell phone that my father used to keep with him all the time and no landline at our house. There was a public telephone two blocks down that a lot of people

in the neighborhood used. It was around summer, I think. There was this group of Romani, and they were notorious for stealing the crops and would also rob people occasionally, especially women working alone at the farms. My father had a regular job besides managing the farm, so he'd leave very early and would be back late at night. Normally, my mom would manage the farm by herself, but since the Romani were going around robbing people, she stopped going there for a while, and I was also very young then. Most people in our neighborhood worked at their farms

starting early in the mornings until evening, so our neighborhood was pretty desolate during the daytime, except for a few people three to four blocks down from our house. My mom was very careful about locking the main doors and windows, so there wasn't much to worry about. My grandpa from my mom's side was visiting us one of those days, and he's a very tall, big guy. I was playing in the dining room, my back facing the main entrance, and my mom was in the kitchen while my grandpa was in the guest room since he had just

arrived and was changing or freshening up. The thing was, my mom forgot to lock the main entrance after my grandpa had come in, and she had no idea about it. I was facing my mom, telling her about whatever little me was doing, and she was facing the entrance. I clearly remember feeling terrified by the sudden change of expression on my mom's face. Now that I'm more aware of the wide range... Of emotions, more than a 4-year-old, I can tell it was a mixture of dread, shock, and pure anxiety. She left whatever she was doing in

an instant, and now she was standing between me and the entrance, shouting with a kitchen knife in her hand. As I peeked from behind her, I saw a woman, and she had a sickle in her hand. Inside our house, she was standing there trying to make conversation as if that was normal. She definitely thought that we were the only people in the house. She was wearing lots of metal jewelry and stuff. My mom was telling me to run to my grandpa, and I was crying, not wanting to leave her because I could probably sense the

danger. It's only been about two minutes, and my grandpa came running and yelling from the other room. He was telling the woman to get the [__] out of our house, and she was still trying to pretend, saying stuff like she just wanted some water and that this was a pretty big house. But then she started to back away. There was more yelling and shouting from my grandpa and mother, and the woman finally left. My mom locked the entrance, and now my grandpa was trying to calm her down as she was shaking a lot. My mom

later told me that the most terrifying part was that she didn't even notice the woman coming inside. I could have been seriously hurt or possibly taken hostage if my mom had noticed a bit later, and the woman didn't even flinch when it was just my mom shouting at her with a [__] kitchen knife in her hand. She was not scared of her at all; she was most probably looking for an opportunity to take her on. My mom has a small build, and that woman was tall—much taller than my mom. No wonder she was prepared to

take her chances. I'm a property manager and one year postpartum, so I returned to my company part-time. This is fun because I get to float around to different apartment communities that need help, and I just assist where needed. In September, I helped a property about an hour away from my house. It's a bit of a drive, but it's a fairly small property with relatively no big problems, so it's easy money for the day. I'm covering for a manager who is on vacation, and of course, it's the dreaded sixth of the month. This means I'm handing

out late letters and making calls. Unfortunately, that's definitely not my favorite part of the job, but it is necessary. The one thing I hate about floating is that the residents don't know me well, so I'm delivering late letters and calling, and they don't even recognize me. Again, not my favorite part of the job, but it has to be done. So here we go. I had about 10 late letters to deliver, and all was going normally and fine. Some people answered the door and said, "Yeah, sorry, I'll have paid it on such and such date." Another

person didn't answer, so I left information on the door, but they flipped me off as I was walking away—all pretty normal stuff that comes with the job. I got down to about the seventh or eighth person. I walked up to this apartment and could tell from the outside that the occupants had absolutely destroyed this home. I smelled cigarettes, cat urine, and general mustiness before I even knocked. All the blinds were broken, blankets were up in the window, all the works. I got up to the door, did my normal quick knock, waited about five seconds, and

was ready to post the notice to the door. Right as I was folding it up to put it between the door, the door partly swung open. A gentleman, wearing just his boxers and with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, opened the door, but he didn't unlatch the security lock, so the door wasn't opened all the way. "What do you want?" he said, giving me a death glare but also looking me up and down inappropriately at the same time. I explained I was just here to deliver the late letters and that I would be on

my way. Now, as I'm explaining this, I notice he keeps looking over his shoulder as if someone is standing next to him behind the door. I find this odd, as if someone is hiding from me, especially because this gentleman won't open the door all the way. I hear some whispering, and now I'm sure he's communicating with someone. The gentleman in the doorway asks me to wait and says he has things in his apartment that he needs looked at. I explained I was just there for the letter but that he could send photos into the office,

and I would get work orders in. He begins complaining about our maintenance team and states he really wants someone to take a look in person. At this point, I'm feeling really uneasy. Typically, I would enter and help without a problem, but between the looks this guy was giving me and the creepy "who knows who" behind the door, I'm just not feeling safe. At this point, I defer again, trying to make myself sound unimportant, and just say, "I'm just a floating person; I can't do anything without manager approval when she gets back, so really there's just

no point at this time." Something catches my eye upstairs; I see a window blind move. I notice two additional guys upstairs who are both staring down at me. I feel so uneasy at that point that I could be sick. I tell the gentleman that I won't be entering without maintenance or the property manager present due to it being an ongoing maintenance concern and that there wasn't much I could personally do. He looks annoyed and finally slaps the door in my face. I get back to the office and grab the maintenance supervisor for the property to

chat things over regarding this encounter. The maintenance supervisor explained to me that there used to be an old man who lived in that apartment, but then his son took over the lease after he died. He told me that he's noticed a lot of strange activity and also individuals around that home since his dad died, but that he hasn't personally witnessed anything illegal yet, so he's just let it go. He explained they plan to make the move when the contract is over due to the condition of the home anyway. While I cannot prove something horrible was

going to happen if I entered the premises, this is by far the creepiest encounter I've had in property management in seven years. I rented a beautiful home in the foothills of West Virginia. I needed some time away from the hustle and bustle; this place was amazing. It was like someone had dropped a beach house down in the middle of the woods. I didn't need a place this big for myself, but I couldn't pass up the amazing price for a weekly rental. When I asked the woman why this beautiful home was so cheap, she smiled nervously

and said, "Just that time of year." I didn't question her any further for fear she would realize her mistake and up the price. The day I arrived was mostly sunny with a few clouds lazily drifting by, just enough to give some ambiance to the scenery. It was on a wildlife preserve, so animals lingered in the field without a care in the world. I saw deer and turkey walk right up to my car as I drove down the dirt road towards my destination. When I pulled in, I thought I'd arrived in heaven. There was a lake

right next to the house, with fields and woods all around. A fire pit was set up beside the lake, with a ring of wooden chairs encircling it. As I parked my car and got my suitcase, that deer walked right up to me and sniffed me. I held out my hand, and she regarded me for a moment before sticking her nose in my palm and taking a deep breath. She eyed me once more and slowly walked off, as if she'd said hello to a neighbor and was off on her way. I typed in the security code

and went inside. The pictures didn't do this house justice; my jaw dropped as I dragged it around looking at all the rooms. There was a full game room with a pool table, card table, foosball, air hockey, giant TV—you name it! The place had a hot tub and a half dozen decks surrounding it. You could step out and see in any direction from a bird's eye view. There were rocking chairs all around, which I fully intended to take advantage of. The entire place was set up for comfort and ease. I put my suitcase in the master

bedroom, then brought the rest of my supplies in, which consisted of a lot of food. I had no idea how far the stores were from the house, and I didn't want to waste hours of my day looking for a grocery store when I could be relaxing. Once I put my food away, I looked around for the Wi-Fi password. It was posted on a bulletin board in the kitchen, along with some other instructions: "This is our home; please take care of it as you would your own. The dishes and silverware are here for your use; please

make sure they don't accidentally visit your house." I chuckled at these little reminders. "Please don't flush anything but toilet paper." Then I paused as I read an unusual one: "When you retire for the evening, make sure you close and lock all windows, doors, blinds, and curtains. Do not open them or go out on the deck for any reason until sun up. If you wish to stargaze, do so only on Wednesday night." This struck me as rather odd. I had no intention of doing any of this, of course; once I go to bed, I'm out until

morning. I settled in and made myself some supper. I took it outside and sat in a rocking chair that overlooked the lake. I watched the sunset mirroring itself in the water before disappearing. Shortly after, the clouds lit up a brilliant red at twilight. I never wanted to leave this place. Once the post-dusk insects came in, I decided to adjourn back inside and read a book. I perused their selection, which ranged all over from the standard paperbacks of John Grisham and Lee Child to cookbooks and history books. There were also a few more esoteric choices, such

as "Strange Creatures of the Wilderness" and "Haunted West Virginia." I decided on a Clive Cussler book and took it with me to bed. A few chapters in, I fell asleep, tugging at my eyelids, so I laid the book aside and snuggled in. It seemed like ten seconds later the morning sun was peeking in through a sliver in the blinds, telling me it was time to get up. I made some coffee and a bagel and went back out to greet my lake. It had been raining, and that fresh smell lingered in the air. The feeling of

renewal surrounded me. I wanted to stay here for the rest of my life. I milled around the house that day, taking some incredible wildlife pictures. I read some more of my book and pretty much enjoyed relaxing. When I went to bed that evening, I made sure the doors were locked and the blinds closed as instructed. The next day went pretty much the same. I decided to... Do some stargazing that evening, but it was overcast, and the stars only peeked out here and there. I went to bed disappointed. For the first time this week, the following

night, I went to bed early with the intention of getting up in the middle of the night and looking for the missing stars from the night before. At midnight, the alarm on my phone woke me up. I peeked out through the curtain and saw a sky full of stars, with not a cloud in sight. Excited, I grabbed my camera and tripod, then headed out onto the deck. The air was crisp but not cold. I got my camera set up on the tripod and started taking pictures of the stars. As the camera did its thing, my

eyes drifted toward the lake. It was a moonless night, and there was little light, but as my eyes adjusted, I swear I saw someone sitting in one of the chairs near the lake. As I looked more intently, I saw more than one somebody. It appeared that each chair was occupied. I wondered if some local kids were borrowing my fire ring for a party, not realizing I’d rented the place for the week. My eyes rose as I began to mentally compose the email I would send to the owner informing her of the intrusion when my mind

froze. None of them were wearing clothes. I know when I see a naked person; admittedly, that hasn’t been nearly as often as I’d like lately, but I know the look. These people didn’t look like that. They were tall, dark, and looked like every one of them needed a full body shave. Then it hit me: they weren’t human. My curiosity and fear raged a mighty battle, but in the end, curiosity won. I slowly adjusted my camera from aiming at the night sky to aiming at the chairs surrounding the fire pit. I had just snapped the first

picture when one of the creatures noticed me. It growled something to the rest, and they all turned and stared at me. I’ve never felt such a surge of pure terror penetrate my mind as I did at that moment. I grabbed my camera and darted inside. Once there, I made sure to lock the door. It wasn’t ten seconds until the assault began. The pounding on the doors and windows was nothing in comparison to the guttural growling and screaming. I was terrified beyond rational thought. I ran downstairs, searching desperately for some place to hide. The poundings seemed

to follow me, as if they had surrounded the house. I searched for a room to hide in that didn’t have windows. In desperation, I threw myself into a closet and locked the door. There was no light, so I shone my phone around the cramped closet and sat on a box of cleaning chemicals. My breathing came in ragged gasps as panic and physical exertion conspired to send me into unconsciousness. The pounding seemed farther away. I was able to calm myself enough to slow my breathing. I looked at the camera, still mounted to the tripod. I turned

on the camera and looked at the picture; it was blurry. My settings were still for taking pictures of stars; any movement would blur the image. So much for proof. The pounding had ceased. I listened with hopeful ears to see if my siege of terror was over. That’s when I heard the terrible sound. It wasn’t a scream or pounding or anything like that; it was the creak of a floorboard. I stopped breathing and listened. It must have been my imagination, I thought. Then I heard the heavy breathing. I crept up to the door and listened; it

was right outside the door. I started shaking. After ten minutes, the creature hadn’t ripped the door open and devoured me. I sat back down on the box and tried to relax. If I was going to die, then I was; there was nothing I could do with the creature right outside my door that was obviously hunting me. I relaxed and slowed my breathing. My adrenaline finally wore off, and I crashed. I leaned my head against a shelf and waited for my inevitable death. I woke sometime later. I slowly sat up and stretched my neck to work

out the kinks. I looked at my phone; it said 3:33 a.m. It also said low battery. I had run out of options. I stuck my phone in my pocket, picked up my camera with the tripod still attached, and reached for the door. I turned the knob as quietly as possible and inched open the door. I stifled a gasp when I saw what looked like a giant bear rug curled up in a ball on the floor. Its breathing was loud and steady. I pushed the door open as far as I could and tried to squeeze through.

The door refused to open enough for me to fit. I looked down and saw the door was pressing against the creature's foot. There was nothing for it; I had to move the foot or stay in my closet prison. I pushed with all my might. The door opened another inch. I braced my back against the doorframe and pushed again; the foot moved enough for me to escape. Then the creature began to move. It stirred and began moving its gargantuan arms, then its legs. Suddenly, it kicked the door, throwing me back into the closet and slamming the

door. I landed on my back, and the wind was knocked out of me. I lay there trying to regain my breath and assess the damage. I felt pain but didn’t think anything was broken. I slowly rose and approached the door. I opened it and peeked out; the creature was still laying there, breathing slowly, apparently asleep. Its foot had moved, and the door was... Able to open, I stepped through, pointing my tripod at the creature as though it was some magical sword that would help me if it woke up. I stepped through the door, keeping my

eyes on the mountain of fern laying in front of me, and backed toward the front door. I glanced behind me just in time to see a creature wide awake, towering over me. It looked down, and a loud growl escaped it. I made a smelly puddle on the floor; it sniffed and recoiled. I jumped at the chance and dove for the door. It was locked. I grabbed the latch and turned it every way until it opened. Once I was through the door, the creature regained its senses, and in three strides, it was out the door, reaching

for me. I slid across the hood, doing my best Dukes of Hazard impersonation, landed, and dove inside the car. The camera and tripod jammed the door open. I started the car and threw it in reverse. Before the door was closed, I turned, causing my door to open, impacting the creature and sending it sprawling to the ground. I put it in drive and stomped the gas pedal. The car slid sideways until I eased off the gas. As I sped down the dirt road, I glanced in my rearview mirror. I could see the red of my tail

lights illuminating two of the creatures chasing me. I tried to go faster, but as soon as I stepped on the gas, the turn in the road slowed me down. I slid through several turns as fast as I could while staying on the road; trees can kill me just as effectively as those things. The dirt road emptied onto asphalt, and I drove as fast as possible for an hour before I looked back again. My mirror showed only disappearing yellow lines. I slowed a little to the speed limit and didn't stop until I was home. I sat

in my driveway, waiting for the creatures to catch up to me and rip me to pieces. After 20 minutes, that didn't happen. I got out of the car and went inside my house. I made sure the doors and windows were all locked. My clock said it was 6:17 in the morning. I took a shower and changed; I was extremely tired. I laid down in bed and stared at the ceiling, replaying the last six hours. My mom tried to tell me I dreamed the whole thing, but I looked at the blurry photo on the camera and

wasn't so sure. After trying and failing to sleep for a few hours, I decided to call the woman whose house I had just abandoned. “Hello?” she said on the third ring. “Hi, this is Tom. I was renting the house this week,” I said to her. “Was?” she questioned. “Yes, I had a little problem and had to leave,” I told her. “Oh, was it anything serious?” she asked. “You could say that I had to leave for health reasons.” “I see,” she said. “Will you be going back?” “No,” I said, a bit more forcefully than I intended.

She was silent for a long moment. “Did anything strange happen?” she asked. The whole ordeal invaded my mind in a vicious flashback. I knew it wouldn't be the last time I was scarred for life. I would never look at the outdoors the same way again. “No,” I lied, “nothing at all.” “Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed that. If you have a scary story you'd like me to read on the channel, please send me an email or post it to my subreddit. You can find details of this in the video description. It's the stories that make

this, and this is the best way to ensure variety in the stories I share. Thank you all for listening, and a special thanks to my channel members and patrons who now have special access to ad-free videos and other behind-the-scenes content. Once again, thank you guys for listening. Have a great night!”