I always loved hiking and to immersing myself in wild, unrestrained nature.
Growing up, I spent a lot of time with my uncle, John. He was a free spirit, a hiker who loved nothing more than to explore thick forests and wide planes. After my parents passed away, I came to live with him, and he taught me everything there was to know about surviving in the wilderness. As an adult, I wanted nothing more than to travel the world like he did, but life had other plans.
After high school, and Uncle John’s death, I couldn’t afford to go to college, so I took an office job. Ten years later, I’m still stuck in it. Every once in a while, though, when I have a few days off, I love to go on hiking trips. A few weeks ago, I did just that.
Normally, I stick to the common routes and hiking tracks, but this time, driven by nostalgia, I wanted to get that feeling of adventure that had so dominated my childhood. I wanted to go out into the wild, see unrestrained nature, and stay blissfully ignorant of human civilization.
After hours of trekking through the thick, dense forest, I realized I wouldn’t reach the camping site I’d chosen as my destination. When the sun went down, I set up camp in a small clearing. As I did, I couldn’t help but think my many trips with Uncle John. I missed that old man.
Before long, night descended, and after a quick meal, I crawled into my tent and went to sleep. I wasn’t worried about animal attacks. All that was out here were deer, foxes, and badgers. Wild boards were a possibility, too, but they usually stayed away from campsites.
Loud noises from outside woke me in the middle of the night. For long seconds I just lay there, quietly, and listened. It’s just some animal, I told myself. The sounds, however, persisted, and grew louder, almost as if something was tearing through my campsite. I heard more rustling, followed by the clang of the metal cooking pot. Foxes and badgers are curious, but they rarely make enough noise to wake you up. An icy feeling washed over me, and goosebumps appeared all over my arms when I thought about the alternatives.
The chances of running into a weirdo or a homeless person were slim, but I’d heard my fair share of camping horror stories. With shaking fingers, and my breath held tight, I slowly opened my sleeping bag. Then I made my way to the tent’s entrance. I moved the zipper down a few centimeters and peered outside.
The campsite was in total chaos. Leaves and branches had been strewn everywhere, as if something had torn through it. My chair had been thrown aside, the remains of the campfire were scattered, and the metal cooking pot was missing. At first, I saw no signs of the intruder and almost sighed with relief, but then I could make out a dark silhouette. A lump formed in my throat, and fear washed over me. Shit, that was way bigger than a fox or a badger. A person, I told myself, it’s got to be a person. Sweat broke out all over my body. I threw on my clothes before I picked up Uncle John’s hunting knife.
“Better be prepared than sorry, Lina,” he’d always said, recounting one of his many close calls.
After that, I pulled out my flashlight, and made my way back to the tent’s opening. Please, just go away, I prayed, please. Yet the figure seemed to have no intention of moving on. For a few seconds, I watched its silhouette before I turned on the flashlight and pointed it directly at it.
“Okay, whoever you are, and whatever you think-“
I yelled, but my voice caught in my throat and my eyes grew wide when I saw the true nature of the intruder. It wasn’t a person, but neither an animal. It was a grotesque, whitish humanoid creature with long dangling arms. As it held onto the cooking pot, I could almost see the joints in them. Too many for a human being, too many.
The moment it noticed the beam of the flashlight, it threw the pot aside, and its head jerked in my direction. I almost cringed back when I saw it. Its eyes were deep set and red, and its nose was nothing but a knotty heap of bone and skin. The worst, however, was its mouth. It hung half-open, and I watched as a lolling tongue pushed past misshapen teeth and licked over disgustingly fleshly lips.
Then the thing let out a high-pitched squeal. I watched, frozen in terror, as its mouth warped into a twisted smile before it came for me, half-running, half-crawling. My head was spinning, and adrenaline surged through my veins. What the hell was this thing?! This… this couldn’t be real! Then the trance I was under broke, and my fight-or-flight instinct instantly chose flight.
In a single swift motion, I tore open the tent’s entrance, jumped outside, and dashed into the forest. I didn’t know where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get away from this creature, this monstrosity. The flashlight was still in my hand, the beam darting left and right wildly, as I desperately tried to find something that could help me, save me.
When I looked over my shoulder and illuminated the forest behind me, I could see it coming after me. It was moving faster than should be possible, as if jumping from tree to tree.
At that moment, the world turned upside down. I stumbled over the root of a tree and crashed to the forest floor. All the air was driven from my lungs, and I lay there, desperately gasping for air. I was about to get back up, pushing myself onto my elbows when a hand clamped around my ankle, bringing me back down. The creature was right there, staring at me with a mocking grin on its disgustingly whitish face. I squirmed, tried to get free, but it didn’t let go. Finally, my boot came down on its face. It yowled in pain, and its grip on my foot loosened.
Moments later, I was up again. I ran past trees and dashed through the thick underbrush. Then I saw something ahead of me. It was stone. A cliff, I thought, but it was much too smooth for it. I realized what it was: a wall, a building. A ruin in the forest.
On weak, trembling legs, I stumbled onward, and soon discovered an entrance. Without thinking, I made my way inside, turned off the flashlight and hid in a corner. I sat in the darkness, shaking and holding my breath. It’s okay Lina, it won’t find you here, it’s okay. I repeated this mantra over and over again, forcing myself to breathe as quietly and slowly as humanly possible. Seconds turned into minutes, but there was were no sounds other than my low breathing, and the pounding of my heart. The creature was gone! Yet the moment I got up, I heard something. The rustling of leaves, as something was searching the area in front of the building.
“Oh god, no,” I mumbled, and instantly covered my mouth.
It was back, and it was right there! How had it found me? Why hadn’t it moved on!? My eyes darted around wildly, searching for another way out, for anything. That’s when I discovered a doorway to my left that lead deeper into the ruin.
I carefully made my way forward. Quietly, I told myself. Don’t you dare make any noise! It was still outside, still searching. Finally, I made it to the second room. Please let there be another way out. The moment I’d entered it, I stepped on something. It was strangely soft, and when I looked down, I saw a small creature below my feet. I cringed back when I saw a pair of empty glass eyes staring up at me. I could barely cover my mouth as a fresh surge of panic shot through me. In an instant, I kicked the thing away. Its lair. I’ve made my way right into its lair, and this here… it’s got to be its offspring. For a moment, I imagined myself being swarmed by tiny white bodies, being torn to pieces and…
Then the beam of the flashlight hit the thing, and I saw what it really was. It was nothing but an old, half-rotten stuffed animal. As my eyes darted across the room, I saw half a dozen more. All were old and dirty. That’s not all I saw, though; there was old furniture, rotten clothes. Then I jerked around. The sounds were getting closer. The thing must’ve entered the building. Window, there’s got to be a window! I sent the beam of the flashlight across the room, frantically searching for a way out when it hit something else.
Pictures.
An entire wall of the room was covered in pictures. Pictures of women, brunette women. It was dozens; small pictures, big pictures, some in black and white, others in color.
“What the…? Why?” I mumbled.
Had this thing… this creature come after me because I was a woman? Because of my brunette hair? Then I heard a disgusting wet gurgle from behind me, something almost akin to a… giggle. For a moment, I was frozen in shock before I slowly turned around. The disgusting whitish abomination had found me. I saw how its mouth changed into a smile as its red eyes focused on me. I stumbled back, pushing myself against the wall.
“Stay away from me!” I screamed at it.
The thing, however, took one step into the room, and for the first time, I heard something else, the approximation of a word.
“…ther,” it said.
My eyes darted around once more, but there was no way out. There was nothing! I pushed myself along the wall, waiting for a chance to dash past it, but its red eyes and mocking expression followed my every move.
“…other,” it said again.
I watched as it spread out its arms, as if it knew what I was planning to do, as if to block me from escaping. Finally, it said it once more, and this time, I understood what it was saying.
“Another.”
Oh god. Another. All those pictures on the wall. All those women. Another woman, another victim, had found its way into its lair. It said it twice more before it came stumbling towards me, arms outspread.
“No!” I screamed.
Then it was on top of me. My fingers closed around the familiar, worn hilt of Uncle John’s hunting knife as I yanked it from my pocket. I heard the sickening sound of flesh tearing before the creature wailed, and my hands were flooded with warm, sticky blood. In my frantic panic, I pulled the knife back and stabbed the creature twice more. The wailing grew louder and louder before it crashed onto the floor, convulsing, its arms flailing around wildly.
For another second, I just stood there, staring at the thing, before the knife fell from my hands and I ran. I ran until my heart felt close to exploding, and my legs grew numb, almost unresponsive. Yet I stumbled on over the forest floor until I came upon a small hiking track.
Not knowing what else to do, I followed it. When the sun was finally up, it didn’t take long before I ran into a group of hikers. The moment they saw me, dirty and covered in blood, they backed away, but when I rambled on about what had happened, they called the police.
A local officer named Schneider arrived soon after. He was an older man, about twice my age. I told him what had happened, but I could see in his expression that he didn’t believe a word I was telling them. After a bit of back and forth, he relented and agreed to follow me to my campsite. Once we’d arrived, we searched for the ruin where I’d been attacked by the creature. It took only ten minutes before we stumbled upon it. Keeping a safe distance, I followed him inside.
“What the hell?” he said when saw the creature.
In the daylight, the creature looked entirely different from last night. Its body was as white as a sheet, but apart from that, it was almost normal, almost… human. It wasn’t the hulking monstrosity I thought it had been. When the officer turned it around, I could see the face once more. It was as disfigured as I’d remembered it. Then I noticed that something was wrong with its hand, its fingers. I began counting them.
“Seven,” I finally said out loud.
Officer Schneider turned to me with a questioning look on his face.
“The fingers,” I said, and pointed at the creature’s hand. “There’s seven of them on its right hand.”
When I said this, the man walked over the get a better look.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Then he turned back to me.
“Miss Brandt, I believe you’re not the only one whose encounter this… creature.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?”
He glanced down at the creature once more, his brow furrowing, as if deep in thought.
“Rumors, nothing but local rumors… things in the forest. Ghosts, shades; that type of thing. Always thought it was nothing but an old story, a local legend you could say.”
I stared at him expectantly. The old man sighed before he recounted the tale.
Decades ago, a reclusive family lived out here, an older couple with their son and daughter. Because of their isolated life, the siblings grew close, and before long, their bond turned into a forbidden love. When the son got sent away, people began talking. Maria, the daughter, had supposedly gotten pregnant. It was nothing but rumors, but an old, confused midwife swore she once helped deliver a particularly disfigured albino boy. Years passed, Maria found work in one of the local villages, but even after her parents’ death, she refused to leave her family home. Some believed it was because of her upbringing, others whispered about the rumored disfigured child. One day, Maria died in a work accident, and thus the old home was abandoned. Even after her death, however, the rumors about Maria persisted. Kids talked about hearing her wailing from deep within the forest, and hikers would occasionally mention sightings of a white shade seen during the night. Seeing those seven fingers, Schneider said, reminded him of the old midwife’s story, because she’d said one more thing: the albino child was born with seven fingers on its right hand.
When he’d ended his tale, it finally clicked for me. What I’d thought to be a terrible creature must’ve been Maria’s child. After his mother’s death, he must’ve continued to live out here on his own.
In the end, the incident was ruled as self-defense. It was concluded that Maria’s child must’ve been severely mentally handicapped. After living out here on its own for so long, he must’ve been in a dangerous, almost feral state. He probably thought I’d enter his territory and thus attacked me.
At least that’s what everyone thought.
After the investigation was over, I asked Officer Schneider for a picture of Maria. I guess I wanted to find closure for what had happened to her son. Yesterday, a letter arrived. In it was a brief note by Schneider and an old photograph of a young woman.
When I looked at it, I instantly noticed her dark, brunette hair. Those pictures, I thought, all the women in them had brunette hair, just like me, and just like Maria. That’s when I realized the truth. I’d originally thought all those pictures were of his victims, but the police assured me that wasn’t the case. No women had ever gone missing in the area, and no bodies had ever been discovered.
No, after his mother had vanished, the child must’ve gathered them. In his mind, after all those years, those women must’ve looked to him like his mother. Shaken, and with tears in my eyes, I realized what he’d said that night. I’d thought he’d said other or another, but what he’d really said was mother.
After two long, lonely decades, a brunette woman had stumbled into his home. He must’ve thought his mother had returned to him. That’s why he’d been smiling and giggling, and that’s why he’d spread out his arms when he came for me.
This poor, unlucky soul. In his mind, his mother had finally come home, and then she’d brutally stabbed him to death.
