4 Bone-Chilling Backcountry Horror Stories That Will Haunt You

Prepare to be spooked with these chilling backcountry horror tales that will haunt you. From creepy encounters to unexplained phenomena, these true scary stories will give you goosebumps! 
true horror story, chilling survival experience, disturbing outdoor tale.

Transcript

 [Music] 
it started as a weekend getaway just me 
and Sadi my fiance we wanted one last 
unplugged trip before the wedding and a 
backcountry loop trail in the Cascades 
sounded perfect there was no cell 
service no distractions just us the 
forest and our yellow Labrador 
Dusty the ranger at the outpost was 
polite but he gave us a strange look 
when we mentioned which trail head we 
were using stick to the main loop he 
said and if you see another path one 
that's not marked don't take it we both 
kind of laughed you mean like game 
trails he shook his head no you'll know 
it when you see 
it that should have been the first red 
flag the hike started beautifully pine 
needles crunching under our boots early 
autumn chill in the air dusty trottting 
ahead on the lead the trail was clearly 
marked switch backing through the forest 
and opening up to a gorgeous overlooks 
by the second day we were deep into the 
back country no other hikers no roads 
just trees it was exactly what we wanted 
until we saw the fork it wasn't on the 
map it wasn't even a proper trail just a 
narrow dirt path veering left half 
hidden by moss and bush but the weird 
part there was a sign nailed to the tree 
behind it no text just a symbol two 
concentric circles with a line through 
them 
sadi stopped and stared "i've seen this 
before," she said quietly "i think it's 
I I don't know a warning." Dusty growled 
he never growled we stood there for a 
while debating and then we stepped off 
the main trail the change was subtiled 
at first the trees grew denser taller 
and the sound changed everything felt 
muffled like we stepped into a vacuum 
the sunlight already filtered through 
canopy seemed to dull a little more the 
weird thing was the trail looked used 
not recently but worn beaten into the 
dirt by generations of steps after 2 
hours Sadi stopped and turned to me do 
you hear that at first I didn't then I 
did a low hum like wind but not 
quite more like 
breathing we decided to turn back but 
when we retraced our steps the trail 
behind us wasn't the same the trees were 
different the ground sloped a way it 
hadn't 
before we turned again tried to retrace 
even further but it was gone the path 
had changed behind us dusty started 
whining he refused to move just stared 
into the woods 
trembling we set up camp that night in a 
small clearing the air felt heavy like 
it was pressing in from all 
sides i checked my compass it spun 
slowly counterclockwise and the GPS was 
dead at some point during the night I 
woke up to the sound of footsteps not 
animal footsteps but bare feet soft but 
wrong the rhythm it didn't feel right i 
unzipped the tent and I shined my 
flashlight no one was there just dusty 
growling glow but in the morning Sadie 
found something her hiking boots 
perfectly placed 20 ft from the tent 
side by side facing the woods and inside 
each boot was a small pile of stones we 
hiked all day not knowing where we were 
going every turn led us deeper into 
trees that felt increasingly 
unnatural the bark looked wet like skin 
and the roots curled into shapes that 
looked almost like knuckles that night 
we didn't sleep because the forest 
whispered not words not animals our 
names it was soft distant but 
repeating at around 3:40 a.m Sadi shook 
me awake dusty was gone his leash was 
still clipped to the ground stake but 
the lead had been sliced 
clean we screamed for him but nothing 
we followed the trail desperate half 
crazed until we found his collar nailed 
to a tree the same symbol carved into 
the bark above it two circles and a line 
through then the forest lit up red for a 
moment just the flash the trees were 
glowing from inside like lanterns and 
between them a figure moved tall bipedal 
no face just a blank surface where 
features should be and it didn't walk it 
floated i don't remember what happened 
next just cold then light then shouting 
and when I opened my eyes I was in a 
ranger truck sad beside me covered in 
scratches pale eyes unfocused 
they found us wandering barefoot along a 
surface road miles from the nearest 
trail no gear no tent no dusty they said 
we've been missing for 5 days but we 
remembered three of them we never found 
the puff again and the rangers went 
looking found nothing but dense forest 
the symbol we described they didn't 
recognize it sadi doesn't talk about it 
and me sometimes I dream about the 
forest about those trees about Dusty's 
collar but the worst part in my dreams I 
hear the forest calling my name and I 
can still feel the ground shifting 
beneath my feet like the trail is trying 
to find me 
 
again i've always done solo hikes it's 
not for everyone but it's how I clear my 
head i plan carefully i bring backups of 
everything a satellite phone flare gun 
emergency beacon i even log my 
coordinates at every major 
junction last summer I took a week off 
work and headed out to explore an area 
I've been mapping for a while a remote 
area of the Snake River Basin almost 
untouched the Ranger Station had a log 
book entry from a trapper back in the 
'90s but otherwise the region was blank 
that made it perfect i was looking for 
solitude but what I got was something 
else 
entirely on my first night I set camp 
near a fast-moving creek that cut 
through a steep pinewalled canyon it 
wasn't on any of my maps which excited 
me i named it Echo Creek because of what 
happened that evening i was boiling 
water when I called out for a lost glove 
where the hell did I drop it i muttered 
and the forest whispered back clear as 
day drop 
it it came from across the creek at 
first I froze i chockked it up to a 
freak echo maybe the acoustics in the 
canyon playing tricks so I tried again 
is anyone out 
there just an echo i whispered to myself 
just an 
echo the next day I hiked up river the 
terrain was brutal wet rock moss narrow 
cliff edges but I made decent time and I 
found a second clearing up 
river no animals no bugs just an 
unnatural 
stillness that night I tested the echo 
again i yelled clapped sang an old 
campfire song the words bounced back 
warped delayed like usual then I 
whispered "You're not real." And 5 
seconds later across the water I heard 
"I am." I didn't sleep that night i left 
the camp behind and headed further north 
but I couldn't shake the feeling that I 
was being followed the forest was too 
quiet no birds no rustling just the 
sound of boots on wet ground and the 
soft roar of the creek below late that 
afternoon I found something I hadn't 
seen before a trail marker carved into a 
tree no paint etched deep a crude human 
figure a stickman arms up a large circle 
for a head and beneath it the word 
"list." I should have turned back 
instead I followed the markers that 
night I camped again but something had 
changed when I whispered to myself just 
idle thoughts like "I'll pack up at 
sunrise." I heard it respond "No you 
won't." Clear immediate before I even 
finished the sentence I packed in the 
dark and started hiking down river but 
the markers had moved now they pointed 
backwards and the creek no longer ran 
below it ran beside me though I hadn't 
crossed it then I heard it again from 
somewhere deep in the woods help i'm 
over here please over 
here it was me my exact tone pitch 
urgency the voice I used in real 
emergencies i knew what it was trying to 
do but I ran away and when I stumbled 
into the clearing heart racing I stopped 
dead because there were two of me 
standing in the dark one on each side of 
the creek both whispering "Ease the echo 
not 
me." I did the only thing I could think 
of i took out my emergency beacon and 
activated it then I sat down in the 
middle of the trail pulled out my knife 
and whispered "Let's see which one 
bleeds." Neither voice responded no echo 
no reply just the sound of rushing water 
louder than 
before and then everything went black i 
woke up 2 days later in a ranger station 
akers had found me wandering near a fire 
road covered in scratches bleeding from 
my ears my gear was never recovered my 
camp gone my beacon had no signal log 
like it had never been activated but I 
know what I heard see I never hike alone 
anymore because sometimes if the forest 
listens long enough it learns how to 
speak and sometimes it learns your 
 
voice i grew up in a family of hunters 
my father and uncles would spend 2 weeks 
every November deep in the forests of 
West Virginia far past the seasonal 
cabins and weekend 
campsites they called it going quiet no 
phones no radios just rifles wood stoves 
whiskey and nature the trip I'm about to 
tell you is about what happened six 
years ago i was 26 and it was the first 
time I'd been invited to go choir with 
them my father my uncle Joe and my 
cousin Will all of them veterans of the 
woods i was proud to be joining the 
tradition we hiked for about 10 mi into 
the mountains no trails just deer paths 
and old memory the plan was to stay in 
an old trappers cabin my grandfather 
used in the 60s but when we reached it 
something was 
wrong the cabin it sat at the edge of 
the gully surrounded by pine and red oak 
small gray and slouched the kind of 
place that had survived every storm just 
by being too stubborn to fall the front 
door was open that was the first bad 
sign and the second the door frame was 
stained dark 
red at first we thought it was rust or 
paint but Will touched it and pulled his 
hand away it was wet sticky blood no one 
said a word but we all knew my father 
pushed inside rifle drawn the interior 
was worse there was drips long lines 
down the walls ceiling even the old wood 
burning stove a sickly metallic smell 
hung in the air but no bodies no signs 
of animals no drag marks no prints just 
blood and yet no one wanted to turn back 
we were 10 mi deep with night falling 
uncle Joe shut the door behind us and 
said "We'll clear it up in the 
morning." That night I couldn't sleep i 
kept hearing things dripping even though 
we'd wiped the walls clean my father 
snorred in his bed will muttered in his 
sleep and Joe was outside smoking but I 
heard something else a knocking soft wet 
coming from under the floorboards like 
someone tapping on soaked 
wood then it stopped i convinced myself 
i just imagined it the next morning Will 
cut his hand while chopping wood not 
badly just a nick across the knuckles so 
we wrapped it up but later when I came 
inside I found him staring at the wall 
blood had seeped through the grain right 
where his hand had brushed it earlier it 
pulsed i swear to God it pulsed my 
father told us to get some air but I 
noticed his hand never left his rifle 
after that that night the stove lit 
itself we had left it cold cold dead but 
when we returned from checking traps the 
fire was burning hotter than it should 
have no smoke no smell of wood just heat 
and something else the walls looked wet 
again we checked for leaks there were 
none that's when we heard it not tapping 
not dripping 
whispering faint from inside the walls 
like someone speaking through layers of 
insulation will leaned in ear to the 
wall and whispered "It's saying our 
names." Joe wanted to leave but the fog 
outside had come in thick and unnatural 
we couldn't see 5 ft past the tree line 
moving would have gotten us lost or 
worse so we stayed that night I woke up 
gasping not from a nightmare from the 
feeling of something wet dripping on my 
face i opened my eyes the ceiling was 
bleeding again but it wasn't just 
dripping it was forming 
letters spelling out our names first 
Will then Joe then my father's then mine 
one drop at a time i screamed the others 
woke up then the cabin started 
shaking not an earthquake not wind it 
heaved like something underneath it was 
breathing the whispering turned into 
chanting low guttural endless and then 
the floor split will fell first sucked 
straight into the earth gone in seconds 
joe tried to pull him back but the 
floorboards snapped upwards like teeth 
and took him to my father and I made it 
to the door as we burst out the cabin 
behind us collapsed inwards like a 
punchured lung we ran and we didn't stop 
until sunrise we didn't speak by noon we 
found an old logging trail and followed 
it to a ranger station they hiked back 
with us the next day but the clearing 
was empty no cabin no collapsed 
foundation just pine needles moss and 
silence like it was never there they 
listed Will and Joe as missing hikers no 
one believed what we saw but my father 
and I we hadn't gone back into the woods 
since and sometimes on cold nights I 
still hear it whispering behind the 
walls waiting for me to come back so he 
could finish spelling my 
 
name i grew up in a tiny town in eastern 
Kentucky nestled right where the 
Appalachian foothills roll into endless 
forests the kind of place with one diner 
a sheriff's department that doubled as a 
post office and more local legends than 
you can count every fall my high school 
friends and I would take a backcountry 
hike out past the old mining trails 
there's a stretch of forest people call 
Grievous 
Hollow locals won't camp there even the 
game wardens avoid it it's not on any 
official trail map but we went anyway 
there were six of us that year me Tyler 
Grace Quinn Darnell and Maisie all 18 
invincible and full of energy and 
ignorance we had no idea what we were 
walking into we hiked about 5 mi in 
before setting up camp beside a cold 
shallow stream the trees were tall tight 
packed and red and orange leaves clung 
stubbornly to branch above while the 
ground lay blanketed in rot it was late 
afternoon when Darnell called out to us 
"Guys what the hell is this?" He had 
wandered off a bit and stumbled upon 
something strange a perfect circle of 
stones 32 of them spaced evenly in a 
ring about 8 ft across in the middle was 
a tree stump weathered silver and split 
down the center moss blanketed 
everything except the inside of the 
circle which was bone dry no moss no 
leaves no sticks Grace whispered that's 
not natural quinn kicked one of the 
stones rolling it out of place maisie 
scolded him don't mess with it but he 
just laughed relax it's a bunch of rocks 
you all sound like my grandma we 
returned to camp made chili on the camp 
stove shared cheap whiskey and dozed off 
with headlamps 
flickering sometime after midnight I 
woke up to a sound I can only describe 
as tree branches snapping in rhythm like 
footsteps slow measured so I unzipped 
the tent the flashlight in hand and 
froze there was a figure standing just 
beyond the treeine not moving not 
breathing just watching a tall 
silhouette with long limbs shoulders 
hunched like it was folded slightly 
forward when I shine the light onto it 
it vanished not ran not ducked gone like 
smoke caught in 
wind the next morning we were shaken by 
trying to act normal we blamed shadows 
whiskey our 
imaginations until we hiked back to the 
stone circle the stones were back in 
place all 32 of them perfectly aligned 
except now there was something else hair 
toughs of black hair tied with twine 
laid across the center stump not animal 
fur braided human hair maisie started 
crying we left the stones alone and made 
a unanimous decision we were packing up 
and heading out but the forest wouldn't 
let us the trail we followed out was 
different we kept our bearings stayed 
true to compass and GPS but but somehow 
we ended up circling back to the stream 
after 4 hours of hiking and when we got 
there something had been left on our 
sleeping bags a single stone on each one 
slick cold we set up a new camp far from 
the first one and that night the wind 
howled trees cracked and then we heard 
rocks scraping 
together the sound grew louder closer 
darnell shouted "It's around us." I 
turned and saw it something tall pale 
head wrapped in leaves and barks its 
arms ended in jagged stone stumps 
clinking with every step it wasn't 
walking it was replacing shoving rocks 
into the soil as it moved digging up 
dirt and grinding stone into place 
trying to rebuild something quinn 
screamed and threw a branch the thing 
turned its head and the woods went still 
the creature lunged not fast inevitable 
we ran i didn't look back none of us did 
we didn't stop until we reached the fire 
road breath ragged legs 
roar maisie collapsed and sobbed grace 
vomited we left the forest and we've 
never gone back the circle is still 
there we warned others they don't listen 
every year someone goes missing in the 
hollow the rangers say they find perfect 
circles of stone in places they've never 
seen before 
perfect untouched and always one more 
than a year 
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