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I Picked Him Up in the Woods



Estimated reading time — 5 minutes

As I stride through the woods near my home, I feel a weird sensation, one of being watched. The path in front of me begins to narrow, and the feeling gets stronger. I become more aware of the sounds which are surrounding me; I hear the sound of an owl howling, the sound of the leaves bristling in the wind. The sound of footsteps. Soon, I reach a dead end and decide that I need to get home fast. I run.

The moon sitting up in the night sky lightens the path in front of me as I walk towards the small building which I call my home. It is semi-detached, with three floors and a massive front garden. Built in the 1800’s, the home now looks slightly dated, but since buying it last week, I have grown to love it.

I reach the front door and knock, waiting for my girlfriend, Lisa, to open it. She takes several seconds, but eventually the door swings open to reveal Lisa standing at the door with a slice of pizza in her hand, and our pet dog, Lotty, standing behind her.
“How was the walk?” Lisa asks, in between taking bites out of her Pizza. I enter the house and place my coat onto the coat rack, before entering the living room, which is the center of the first floor.
“The woods are big.” I inform Lisa, whilst I change the channel from whatever junk Lisa was watching before I got here. I pick up a slice of Pizza and take a bite, which receives an angry look from Lisa.
She sits down next to me and snuggles up to me, and so I grab a blanket which sits on the side of the sofa, and wrap it over myself and her. We get comfortable and watch the new movie I put on. Eventually I feel Lisa’s body slump onto mine.
And then Lotty barks; Lotty never barks…
She doesn’t stop, and soon she’s running back and forth from the living room to the front door. Is someone out there? Slowly, I get up, trying not to wake Lisa up, which I am successful at. I give Lotty a quick stroke before heading towards the door.
I see nothing from behind the glass window which is attached to the door, and yet I get the feeling that I am being watched, a feeling which I felt in the woods today, but a feeling which I just put down to being overly suspicious of my new surroundings. I don’t turn away from the window, and I stand still.
And then the hand appears on the window. I am hit by fear, and throw myself towards Lisa, hiding under the covers which covers her. The doorknob begins to rattle, but I try to ignore that. The rattling is getting louder and louder. My heart is pounding at an alarming rate. Rattle, rattle, rattle. The sound just won’t stop. Until it does.
I’m shocked by the silence, but refuse to take the cover off of my head. Soon, I fall asleep against Lisa, although the dreams which I experience aren’t pleasant.

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Lisa currently doesn’t have a job, which means that she will be spending today at home. I immediately feel sorry for her as the thought of her spending the day with my ‘watcher’ terrifies me, but ignore this thought as I get dressed in my suit, ready for a day of writing boring emails to people who are due to pay a large sum of taxes. When I reach work, I no longer feel watched; I feel safe. I begin to type my day away.
The lack of presence of my ‘watcher’ disappears for a while, approximately two hours (from 10:00 to 12:00), but soon the presence of my ‘watcher’ returns. I feel its anger, its hatred, but I decide to ignore it.
The drive home is remarkably uncomfortable, as the feeling is once again strong, but I continue to ignore it.
The feeling follows me all the way to my home, but knowing that I have felt it for almost all day has made me sure that Lisa will be safe, and that she won’t have experienced my ‘watcher’. The feeling continues to follow me as I knock on the front door.
Seconds pass, but the door doesn’t open. Minutes pass, but the door doesn’t open. I pull out a set of keys from my pocket, and after a couple minutes of searching, find the correct keys to open the door. I open the door and am immediately hit by the silence. Nobody is here.
As I enter the front room, I find that it is the same state that I left it in this morning, only Lisa isn’t there. Then I see the scratch marks which have formed on the outside of the window, and the tears which have drenched part of the blanket. I am suddenly hit by terror; my ‘watcher’ has been here, and Lisa’s met him.
I quickly rush into the kitchen with the aim to grab a knife from the draw, but I find something else… Lotty is lying on the floor, not moving. I give her a quick shake, but Lotty still doesn’t wake up. Is she dead? I get the answer to that when I notice the large hand prints which have been coated into her neck. My ‘watcher’ has choked her.
Holding the knife, I launch up the stairs to the first floor, and am immediately hit by the scratch marks which has torn apart our wall paper. A baseball bat sits on the floor, unused. I assume that Lisa was trying to use this against the ‘watcher’. Her ‘watcher’.
I check each of the rooms on the first floor, but there are no signs of disturbance their, so the ‘watcher’ must have chased Lisa up the stairs to the next floor.
As I climb the stairs, I begin the realize that the only time that the ‘watcher’ could have terrorized Lisa would be between 10:00 and 12:00 (the only time I didn’t feel his presence).
I reach the next floor and find that the walls are now covered in white slime which is slipping down the walls. And one of Lisa’s trainers on the first step leading up to the final floor.
Still holding the knife, I reach the final floor and find more scratch marks, and the white goo leading into another room which I know is our bedroom. Slowly, I head towards the door and open it, ready to find Lisa’s body.
But nothing is there. The door is about to shut itself when I hear the front door open, and hear Lisa enter the house. I hear her call “Just been on a walk, Terry,” and then realize that I’ve made a mistake. The ‘watcher’, my ‘watcher’ has trapped me in the most secluded area of the house, and now there is no escape.
And as I hear Lisa scream – she must have just found Lotty – I finally see my ‘watcher’. His face is pale, with completely red eyes and black rotting teeth. Small strings of hair sit on his head, which fall to his shoulders. His body is covered by a black, rotting cloth, and his white hands can be seen sneaking out from underneath the cloth. My ‘watcher’ smiles, before finally talking.
“You picked me up in the woods, and now you die because of it…” It screams, before launching towards me.
My last thoughts are for Lisa, in fear of what my ‘watcher’ will do to her, and also whether my ‘watcher’ will return to the woods, and lead someone else to their death.

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Credit To – Jacob Adams

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12 thoughts on “I Picked Him Up in the Woods”

  1. Putting ‘watcher’ in quotation marks only needs to be done once; otherwise it will be really annoying to see ‘watcher’ every five seconds, and it just emphasizes how often you use the word ‘watcher’.

    “My last thoughts are for Lisa, in fear of what my ‘watcher’ will do to her, and also whether my ‘watcher’ will return to the woods, and lead someone else to their death.”

    It’s his last thought; it needs to be snappy, but this goes on way too long and loses its punch. Compare with:
    “My last thoughts are of Lisa.”

  2. Nathair Jörmungandr

    “The sound just won’t stop. Until it does”. Am I the only one seeing some thing wrong with this one. The pacing is fast, the grammar sounds like a twelve year old wrote it, there is barely any detail to anything. It is a good concept, but the writer never put enough time into it. And I thought it was terrible that I was finding Scary Stories to Tell In The Dark on this site.

  3. Not only that, but she manages to sleep through the dog going crazy barking and the door knob rattling to start with.

  4. JoAnn Borden Torres

    I liked it and gave it a 7. There could have been more details but it made me nervous as I read it. Good story. Would love a part 2

  5. CaptainStarwind

    Uhh? So, he went in the woods and then a homeless guy follows him back to his house? And follows to him to work? Or am I missing something.

  6. This had a lot of clichés, which makes the story predictable, which also makes it bland. Next time you should ask somebody to proofread it before submitting it, which would perhaps make your prose less wordy, which, in turn, would make it less stiff and which perhaps would make us enjoy it somewhat.

    This is how it reads when you repeat “which” and “watcher” over and over again. Usually what saves those pastas with plots that have been done to death and then some is their use of language. Keep that in mind for next time.

    Don’t let the ratings discourage you, they do reflect (to some extent) the quality of the pasta, but that doesn’t mean you can’t improve. Take this as a chance to get better.

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