Night-Time

by My Sox are Empty

Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2360273

Night Time Horror Story

"I am not afraid of the dark. I am not afraid of the dark." I chanted repeatedly as I walked through the woods back to my campsite. At least I hoped I was headed to my campsite. It seemed that the walk back in the dark was taking much longer than the hike away during the twilight. I had my tackle box in one hand, and my pole braced against my shoulder.

The darkness wasn't the worst part. I felt like the woods were whispering at me. Sometimes, I thought I could make out threats, like, "You will never see your home again." Sometimes it sounded like vague warnings. I brushed the voices from my mind, certain it was just a figment of my imagination in the spooky darkness of the forest.

"You are never going to find your camp." A voice clear as a bell stated very close to my right ear. I spun, certain someone was behind me, just outside of my vision. I spun at least three hundred sixty degrees, trying to find the speaker. My headlamp lit the trees around me and revealed nothing in the range of the light. There were no indiscernible fleeting shadows. Nothing seemed to be moving in the dark.

After I searched out the voice, I realized I had no idea what direction I was going in or which way I had come. This was a problem. I set down my tackle box and propped my rod against a tree. I pulled my phone from my pocket. I unlocked it to check my GPS, but nothing. It wasn't that I had no service; my phone came on and just showed me my lock screen image. No app icons, no clock, and definitely no sign of my GPS. I had used it to mark my camp and to make my way to the secret fishing spot my friend had given me. My phone went dark, and I couldn't get it to come back on. I should have had at least seventy percent battery. I couldn't understand why it wouldn't work.

I considered trying to find my way to camp, but decided the prudent thing to do was to plant my butt and wait for someone to come and find me. My girlfriend would surely call in a search party if I didn't make it back by morning. I brushed off the ground in front of the tree I had propped my rod against. Then I sat. A loud growl broke the silent darkness. It took me a moment to realize the sound was from my own stomach. I dug through my tackle box and pulled out a couple of energy bars. I ate and the forest seemed to settle into an uneasy silence. Perhaps the voices had gotten their way by making me lose my path.

I tucked the empty wrappers into the tackle box and leaned my head against the tree. Almost immediately, I dozed off. Strangely, I wasn't even tired. I woke up some time later. The immediate sensation was of being surrounded. I scanned the area with my headlamp, but nothing.

"He is mine," a grating voice whispered loudly.

"No, clearly he is mine," the voice I had searched for argued.

So, the voices were back. Beneath them were indecipherable voices, desperatly whispering warnings I couldn't make out.

"Oh, really? Which of us has his phone?"

"I have his equipment!"

I saw a pair of shadows made of mist circling in front of me. "Let's just share this one."

"Agreed."

The shadows stopped orbiting one another and came right at me, mostly formless. But as they came closer, I thought I could make out horns and glowing red eyes. The whispering voices began to clearly chant as one, "Run!"

I tried to get up to do just that, but solid wisps of shadow mist held me in place. I struggled against them and freed my right hand. I reached for my tackle box, hoping my filet knife could cut me free. My tackle box was not where I left it.

"Such a simple fool!" One of the shadows came closer. My lamp began to flicker. I tapped at it with my free hand. With every flicker both of the shadows came closer. My skin began to crawl. By the time the lamp went out for good. They were a single step away. I felt cold claws digging into my flesh...
-----

The ranger scratched his head. They had been searching since dawn. He finally found a sign of the fisherman. A tackle box next to a tree, a propped-up fishing rod, and a cellphone resting between them. There was a splatter of what could only be blood on the tree. He got on his radio. "I found his gear. It is like we thought. We should head in. It is almost dark."

"When will they learn that we mean it that they need to be in their tents before dark?"

"Not today."

832 words.

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