Screams

Welcome, friend. Follow me. We're going somewhere dark, somewhere dangerous. Most people would never dare enter the place we're going. There's no telling what horrors we'll find. what terrors will uncover. Don't say I didn't warn you. We might discover terrible monsters lurking there. Be careful, they could follow you out. Or maybe they're already inside you. Are you afraid?

Good. Now you are ready to enter the warning woods. Jack, Patrick, and Devin sat on the ground in bleary-eyed silence after another long day hiking the Appalachian Trail. They felt cold air on their backs, making them all vulnerable to their fire's hypnotic seduction as they sat around it. Hey guys, Patrick asked, his tone serious. His friends both turned their eyes toward him.

the rest of their bodies remaining still. Patrick didn't meet either of their gazes, just kept staring into the flames. He shifted one of his legs slightly, held it up for a moment, then said, Oh, never mind. Come on, man, what is it? Devin asked. Jack made a gagging noise, heaved forward, and shouted, You son of- Oh, that's horrible. Sorry, Patrick laughed. I didn't realize it was going to be a silent but deadly.

Oh, you suck, dude, Devin shouted, now covering his nose and mouth with his shirt like Jack. Patrick said, How come nobody warns you about the dangers of protein bar farts when you say you're gonna hike the Appalachian Trail, huh?

Their laughter petered out and they fell back into silence. The fire's crackle was the only sound in all the woods. They had discussed earlier how easy the eerie silence made it to believe the strange creatures of local legend could really be lurking amongst the trees. Two months, one week, and six days into their journey. They'd yet to see anything abnormal or supernatural, though. This night, their camp was situated between two hills near the border of West Virginia.

Their lightweight tents made a triangle around the fire pit they'd found and claimed for the night. This deep into their hike, the fun of staying up late around the fire couldn't hold a candle to the joy of a full night's sleep. So they were about to put the fire out and call it a night when a shrill, distant scream suddenly made them all turn. It sounded human, like a woman. It sounded like she was screaming a word or a name.

but the distortion in her voice made it impossible to discern. The three young men jumped to their feet. A man's screams joined discordantly with the woman's. It sounded like he was shouting, Go, go, go! or, Help, help, help. But the clarity of his words degraded completely over the distance. How far away is that? asked Devin. Far, dude, said Patrick. Jack asked, What do we do? Should we-

try to help? I don't have a signal to either of you, Devin asked. Jack said, no, and Patrick shook his head. Devin then said, they can't be more than, what, a couple of miles away, right?

What's that, 20 minutes if we run? I mean, we just came from that direction, so we know the trail's clear. Hell no, dude, Patrick replied. Jack said, Yeah, Devin, I don't know. We don't have any, like, weapons or anything. The screaming continued, unceasing. The two voices shouted for help and in multiple instances for someone or something to stop. You guys are being cowards, Devin said.

gritting his teeth and bawling his fists. Patrick fired back. You want to get lost or killed out there? Suddenly, the distant man howled in elongated agony. The woman's voice blended with his. their two sustained screams forming one awful sound. The men fell silent around their dying fire. The woods went silent too, and for a few seconds, no one moved. The three friends couldn't look at each other.

All felt tremendously guilty, and somewhat embarrassed by their own fear and inaction. Jack opened his mouth to finally say something, but a sudden, final cry from the woman beat him. It echoed off the hills. before abruptly ending. What the hell did we just hear? Patrick whispered. Devin said, sounded like somebody getting killed. Jack looked at him, wishing he could disagree.

could offer some alternative explanation. Patrick said, At least whatever it was sounded far away. Not that far though, said Jack. Devin said, We should kill this fire and get in our tents if we're not going to do anything to help. If some kind of animal got those people, I don't want it finding us next. Hey, Jack said, touching Devin's arm.

I wanted to help too, but there's literally nothing we can do, man. We'll hike up that hill tomorrow, so maybe we'll snag a signal and we can call to report what we heard. Yeah, sure. Devin replied, unsatisfied. He kicked dirt over the fire, now mostly just embers, and slogged over to his tent. Night, guys. Damn, he's really pissed, isn't he? Patrick asked Jack as they stood in the dark.

The forest's silence seemed louder than ever. He'll be all right, said Jack. He made to walk away, but noticed Patrick stayed put, staring in the direction of the screams. He turned back to his friend and said, He was right, dude. We should all get some rest. If there's anything we can do, it won't be till tomorrow. Do you think? What if those weren't actually people? Patrick asked.

Those were definitely people, Jack replied. Patrick shook his head. No, like, I know the voices sounded human, but what if it was something else that wanted us to think it was human? People say they hear voices out here all the time, man. What if something's trying to trick us? Hey, said Jack. We agreed not to fall for any of that BS, remember? Good night, man. Yeah, right.

Good night. Jack crawled into his tent but waited until he saw Patrick do the same to zip his flap shut. In the back of his mind, he toyed with the possibility Patrick suggested. What better way to trick three young guys full of testosterone and adrenaline than to mimic someone needing help? Needing heroes. Good thing we're apparently not heroes, Jack thought as he drifted off to sleep.

They met a middle-aged couple hiking in the opposite direction with their black Labrador Retriever mid-afternoon the next day. After exchanging small talk and niceties for a few minutes, Devin brought up the subject no one else wanted to. Hey, did you guys hear somebody screaming last night? Yeah, the man, whose name was Gary, replied. His wife, Ada, added, We were camped up on the hill and got our binoculars out to see what was going on, but it was too dark and the trees...

Gary said. We definitely heard them though. I guess you know what they say about the trail. That's what I said. Patrick practically cheered, grateful to have someone share his absolving suspicion. Jack asked. Did you happen to report it? We don't have anything other than our cell phones and we haven't been able to find a signal. Ada said, No, we haven't reported it to anybody. We have a satellite phone though. I guess we could call it in. Maybe at the next stop.

Gary murmured to her. He looked at their black lab who was staring down the trail, pointing his whole body that way. He'd been standing perfectly still like this during the entire conversation. completely ignoring the three strangers his owners were talking to. Jack, Patrick, and Devin noticed his alert stance at the same time. An eerie feeling crept over them all. Gary smiled to them and said,

We should really get moving. I'd like to be off this hill before sundown. Just a heads up, the wind's pretty brutal up there. Oh, thanks, said Jack. Ada said, There's a hostel on the other side, though. It's definitely too far for you to make it today, but you can look forward to a good rest tomorrow night. Patrick said, That sounds awesome. After saying farewell, the three men separated from the couple and their dog.

each group going their respective ways. While heating canned chili over the fire that evening, Devin said, We need a plan, guys. We should decide what we're going to do if anything like last night happens again. Everyone was tired and cold. Gary and Ada hadn't been kidding about the wind. It cut under their jackets and through their shirts. Everyone's exhaustion and discomfort showed on their faces.

Sounding as sour as he looked, Patrick said, Yeah, sure, but I think there's something more important we need to talk about. What's that? asked Jack. Patrick bit his lower lip and wrinkled his nose.

He spat at the fire and watched his saliva evaporate off of the stick it landed on as he asked, What if whatever's out there comes for us tonight? Jack said, Yeah, that thought crossed my mind too, but... look where we're at we're up high we can see down the trail for how far would you say that is zero inches once this fire goes out said devon he's right said patrick jack stood up and kicked a fist-sized rock

Okay, so what do you guys want to do, huh? Pack up and head out? We're 22 miles. 22 miles from the nearest shelter, which, by the way, is just a damn hostel. You want civilization? That's going to be 60 miles at least. So, yeah, we can keep hiking through the pitch dark until we're too tired to take another step if you want, but we'll still be dozens of miles from safety. So what do you want to do, huh? What's our other option? He finished.

looking into his friend's bewildered eyes. Patrick looks scared of him now. Well, at least I'm not some made-up creature, Jack thought. Devin said, I was just gonna say we should do a watch, dude. Have one of us stay up and keep the fire going all night. Take turns. Oh, said Jack. Yeah, that's probably a good idea. Devin nodded. Cool, I'll take the first one. You guys should get to sleep after we eat. Nobody's getting a full night's rest tonight. Hi there.

Fred Greenhalgh here, director of audio dramas like DC High Volume Batman and Star Trek Con. However, my one true love remains all things spooky, and I'm excited to say there's a new season of my horror podcast, Undertow. This season is called Familiar Haunts.

horror tales that reveal how the past is never truly gone and humanity may be the most ruthless monster of them all. Familiar Haunts is available now. Find it by subscribing to Undertow wherever you get your podcasts, such as the app where you're listening to me right now. Search for Undertow.

When they were young, the five members of an elite commando group nicknamed the Stone Wolves raged against the oppressive rule of the Karatarakian Empire, which occupies and dominates most of the galaxy's inhabited planets. The wolves fought for freedom, but they failed, leaving countless corpses in their wake. Defeated and disillusioned, they hung up their guns and went their separate ways, all hoping to find some small bit of peace.

amidst a universe thick with violence and oppression. Four decades after their heyday, they each try to stay alive and eke out a living. But a friend from the past won't let them move on, and neither will their bitterest enemy. The Stone Wolves is season 11 of the Galactic Football League science fiction series by author Scott Sigler.

Enjoy it as a standalone story or listen to the entire GFL series beginning with season one, The Rookie. Search for Scott Sigler, S-I-G-L-E-R, wherever you get your podcasts. Just under two hours later, Jack emerged from his tent. He found Devin pushing new sticks into the waning fire. Devin looked at him curiously. You want a hand? Jack asked. You should be sleeping.

Devin replied. Jack grabbed a handful of the sticks Devin had collected and started positioning them strategically around the dull blaze. I can't, he said. I can't stop thinking about... Yeah, me either, said Devin. I offered to take the first watch because I don't think I'm going to sleep until my body won't give me a choice. Patrick's not having any trouble, Jack sneered. They could both hear their friend snoring in his tent.

After a long silence, Devin said, Hey, no screams yet. That's good, right? Don't jinx it, Jack said. But he thought, maybe keeping watch is working. I can't help but think it's following us. Devin said. Yeah, said Jack. The watch was a good idea. I'm glad you said something. Devin nodded. Sure, man. And hey, if we need to sleep in after the sun comes up, so what?

We'll be heading downhill tomorrow. We can make up the lost. Hey, hey, Jack whispered, shushing Devin. He stood and cocked his head down the hill. He asked, Is that a dog? Devin listened. In the silent forest, it was easy to hear the husky barks coming from somewhere down the hill. They boomed in rapid, continuous succession. A man's voice, slightly less audible, barked something once.

Probably trying to quiet the dog. Oh, never mind, Jack said. I think it's just that dog we saw earlier. Gary and... What was her name? Gary and Ada's dog. Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Man, a dog would be nice, huh? Probably wouldn't need to do this right now if we had a... A woman's shriek cut Devin off. The thin, cold air carried her voice up to them. The fire seemed to whip in response.

The dog's barking abruptly ended, and the woman's wordless scream took shape, forming a familiar name. Gary! Devin shot to his feet. That's them, dude. That's... Oh, God! His hands clamped around his ears, trying to block out the gut-churning sounds that came next. Gary's whooping shouts mixed in the air. They formed loose words which fell apart on their way up to Jack and Devin. The voices went quiet for a few seconds.

Then Gary's voice re-emerged, full of the wet gagging of disembowelment. A clear cry for help came from Ada, the only member of her small group still making any sound after Gary went silent. Devin's fingers clawed down his face before he said, We have to do something, man. We have to do something. Patrick emerged from his tent, wincing at the firelight and shielding his eyes. Guys, what's happening? That couple we met earlier with the dog.

Jack said. He had also stood, but his reaction was more statuesque than Devin's. He felt helpless, paralyzed. Ada emitted her final scream in a lower pitch. It came from deep in her gut, the air being forced out by her tensed muscles before she, too, went silent. We have to keep going.

Jack said after they'd all absorbed the silence and its terrible implication. Patrick argued. It's the middle of the night. It's going to be hours before sunrise. You even said... Doesn't matter, Devin interrupted, implicitly agreeing with Jack. We've got to keep putting distance between us and whatever's down there. We've got to get to that hostel and get some help. After that, I think I'm done, guys. I want to get off this trail for good. Jack said, Alright, that's it then.

Let's pack it up. They arrived at the hostel just after noon. They told the owner about the screams, specifically those they attributed to the hikers they'd met. and asked who they should report them to. Jack made the call and gave Gary and Ada's names, but was advised little could be done without a more precise location for the supposed crime or tragedy. The men inquired about a shuttle to town.

but the hostel owner told them the shuttle only ran every other weekday to a small town useful for resupplying but little else. He warned them that they wouldn't be able to arrange further travel there. If they wanted to get off the trail, they'd need to keep hiking 48 miles to the next hostel, which offered a shuttle to the city. If they shuttled to the little resupply town, it would cut the hike down to 30 miles, but they'd have to wait until morning for that.

They couldn't afford private rooms for all of them, so they opted to stay together in the bunkhouse next to the main building. They viewed waiting until morning for the shuttle as no problem, seeing as none of them thought they could walk another mile without collapsing. With some good rest and determination, they estimated they could cover 30 miles the next day. One more day. Then they could leave this nightmare behind.

They slept through the afternoon, and when they awoke, they visited the commissary and bought a few items for dinner. As he tallied their totals, the owner told them it looked like they would have the bunkhouse to themselves for the night. No one else had showed up so far.

and it was rare for anyone to come in after dark. The trio counted this a blessing since they didn't really want to be around any strangers at the moment. They thanked the owner and returned to the bunkhouse to eat their cellophane-wrapped dinners. Are you looking for your next spooky-themed podcast? Well, Rattled and Shook is a weekly podcast featuring true horror stories sent in by real people.

We have guests, themed episodes, and immersive sound design so you can really feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Oh, and we've got a touch of that nostalgic, old-timey radio show charm. Join us. Rattled and Shook is available now, wherever you get your podcasts. That's right. After a brief snack nap. We're coming back. We're picking snacks. We're eating snacks. We're raiding snacks. Like the snackologist we were born to be. Mates is back.

Mike and Tom eat snacks. Wherever you get your podcasts. Unless you get them from a snack machine, in which case, call us. Right after nine o'clock.

Just as the men had decided to sleep again, they heard boots on the wooden front step of the bunkhouse. Patrick sat straight up and stared at the door. Jack and Devin met each other with nervous glances. No further movement sounded outside, and no one touched the door. But they knew someone was standing right outside. Devin whispered, Maybe it's just the owner checking up.

Jack shushed him, cocking his ear to listen. Patrick couldn't take it. He called to the door. Hello? The steps groaned. Devin waved to get Jack's attention again. Jack looked his way, and Devin whispered, Is it another guest? Jack shrugged and kept listening. Someone knocked. The first three raps sounded gentle, polite. But after receiving no answer, another firmer, more threatening knock rattled the door to its hinges. Just one hard knock, then silence.

Jack stood, shirtless, holding a finger to his lips. He moved toward one of the windows, peeling back the curtains slightly to see if he could catch a glimpse of anyone outside. The front steps were completely shrouded by the corner of the building. And besides a dirty light outside the front door of the main building, there was no light outside. Even the windows in the main building were dark. Psst, hissed Patrick. Jack looked his way.

Pointing to the door, Patrick mouthed, It's not locked. A hand gripped the old, loose doorknob. It turned. croaking as loudly as the worn springs of the beds as Devin and Patrick sprung to their feet. The door cracked open. Under ordinary circumstances, the men would have waited to see who stood in the doorway.

but those screams played loudly in each of their heads. Stay out, Patrick yelled. Devin rushed to the door and rammed his body against it. He turned to his friends and shouted, Help me! Jack moved toward him. Patrick stayed paralyzed by his bunk. Jack pressed his hands against the door on either side of Devin's head and pushed. Suddenly, Devin screamed and fell a few inches before catching himself. He kept screaming, though.

and Jack felt something warm and wet rub over the top of his bare foot. He looked down and saw blood smeared across it. He also saw the tip of a reddened blade sliding back under the door. Devin tried to put weight on his slashed foot, but when he did, he felt the skin split and the icy hot sensation of exposed bone pressing into the rough wood floor. He stumbled, knocking into Jack.

Jack held his weight firmly against the door, but the man outside outmatched his strength. He forced the door open a couple of inches before Devin's crumpled weight blocked it. Jack screamed for help again and again, unsure if anyone was around. or alive, to hear him. He managed to push the door closed, but then heard a renewed scream from Devon below him. Devon cried out yet again,

Then, once more, before Jack realized he was being stabbed repeatedly in his thigh through the crack at the bottom of the door. Patrick! Jack screamed. His plea for help went unanswered. Devin moved his leg, but the knife still found his hip. Jack saw no other option than to release the door and pull Devin away from the slashing blade. The man outside wasted no time forcing the door open.

slamming the side of Jack's skull with the doorknob as he did. Patrick saw the intruder first. A tall, lean man, dressed head to toe in dark weathered clothes caked with dirt and blood. His face was mostly obscured by a hood, grime, and a wild beard which grew as much upward as it did down. However, seeing a human rather than a creature of legend,

released in him a burst of confidence rooted in terror. Pure, sympathetic fight response. He instinctively grabbed his backpack, the only heavy object in reach, and charged at the intruder, holding his backpack like a shield. He neglected to account for the killer's practice, his numbness to resistance. When Patrick reached him, the killer grabbed the top of his pack, shoved it downward, and plunged his knife over the top.

directly into the base of Patrick's neck on the left side. The killer leapt like a wolf to land on top of his mortally wounded victim and twisted the knife, nearly severing Patrick's head with its wide blade. Having dispatched this latently heroic young man, he left the knife stuck in the wound and used both hands to twist Patrick's head, spraying himself with blood until they all heard Patrick's spine snap.

Jack had been standing just behind the killer, about to wrestle him off his now-dead friend. He bellowed and balled his fists together to bring them down on the back of the killer's neck. The killer, who Jack didn't know had paid any attention to him, shifted, so that instead Jack's fists fell by him, causing Jack to throw himself off balance. The killer grabbed the back of Jack's hair and shoved him so that he rolled onto the floor in a heap. He yanked the knife from Patrick's broken neck.

splattering Jack's naked side with still warm blood. Devin had dragged himself to the open door where he was screaming into the night for help they all knew would be too slow to save them, if it ever came at all.

In the back of his mind, he thought, this is how the others felt as we listened to them scream. Jack collected himself and scrambled to the door as well. His shouts for help joined Devin's as he tried to help him stand while also dragging him out onto the steps. He felt a sudden pressure in his back, like getting kicked there.

He tried to turn, but a blinding pain in his abdomen prevented him from moving his torso. His arms became heavy and cold. He let Devin drop on the stoop. No! Devin shouted.

He kicked between Jack's feet with his uninjured leg but made no contact with the killer who had buried his long knife in Jack's lower back at an upward angle. Breathing became more difficult. Through shallow breaths, Jack tried to tell Devin to get away, to leave him, but all that came out of his throat was a red bubble that burst on his lips.

He felt himself lifted an inch off the ground as the knife in his back cut upwards until it caught on his ribs. Devin used the doorway to pull himself to his feet. He shouted Jack's name and lunged pathetically at the hooded killer. His attack... Though brave, though noble, was so feeble Devin actually heard the man scoff as he pulled the knife out of Jack and plunged it into his stomach.

Pushing Jack out the door, the man grabbed Devin's throat with his free hand and squeezed, his fingers sticky with blood. The pressure on Devin's diaphragm as the knife sliced through his innards forced air through his throat even as the killer constricted it down to a straw. The resulting noise reminded Jack of the sound Gary had made the night before.

as he presumably met a similar fate. Devin's blood and the contents of his bowels spilled onto the floor in audible splashes as he uselessly struggled. Jack tried to rise to his feet. but the pain exploding in his own guts kept him down. Some of the muscles refused to respond at all to his desperate commands. The killer let Devon fall and propped him in a seated position against the wall. Devon.

locked eyes with Jack. Both men went silent now, knowing hope was lost. Jack watched Devin's eyes lose focus, then dull. His eyes maintained his desperate pleading gaze even after the last traces of life left them. The killer left... Jack choking and clinging to life while he rummaged through their packs, taking food and cash mostly. Wondering if the man presumed him dead, Jack closed his eyes and lay perfectly still. He held his breath.

as the man returned to the doorway, hoping he would just leave. His eyes were still closed as the killer turned back to him on his way out the door, so he didn't see the man's head tilt curiously. as he studied him. But he heard the man's boots land on either side of his splayed torso. He finally opened his eyes and looked up into the dark eyes of his killer. He screamed, but not for long.

Three miles down the trail, a pair of friends had just finished eating a late dinner by their campfire. Did you hear that? One of them said to the other. The other said, Yeah.

Was that somebody screaming? You made it out. Congratulations. If you enjoyed the story, please rate, like, review or subscribe. For early, ad-free episodes and behind-the-scenes episodes I call Into the Woods, become a patron at patreon.com slash thewarningwoods. You can also support the show by purchasing merch.

the merch store and patreon links are in this episode's description to stay up to date follow me on instagram and tick tock at the warning woods and when you feel ready meet me here for another journey into the warning woods thank you for listening there are vampires out there they walk among you shoulder to shoulder in the dark

Heading to work, heading home, going to the bar. It's a life just like anyone else's. And I have grown used to it. To the darkness, to the moon, to the taste of blood on my tongue. But... Vampires are dying out. We are a fading kind and I am the first one created in so long. And that is a dangerous thing to be.

Those who came before me, elders of all stripes, they do not want to see our kind gone, and they will do anything to keep their power. And for myself, and for Grace, who created me, that is a sword that hangs above our heads. And the worst person of all carries our secret, and he will use it however he sees fit. Who do you look to when things are at their darkest?

From the creators of Parkdale Haunt comes Woodbine, a podcast about monsters, dreams, and changes. Those you want, and those you never saw coming. Season 2 arrives September 24th, distributed by Realm. Welcome and enter if you dare. Hi, I'm Hallie Keeper. And I'm Allison Leiby. And together, we're the hosts of Ruined, a scary movie podcast where Hallie tells me the grisly details of a haunting new horror film each week. Whether you're a terror hound like me or a scary...

Dirty Cat Like Allison. We've got so many thrills, chills, and obviously kills to share with you in every episode. It's the podcast that'll have you saying, that was so funny. I should not have listened to it at night with all the lights off. From the greats like The Exorcist and Poltergeist to modern classics such as Hereditary and Get Out to the freakiest new releases like A Quiet Place and Terrifier, we ruin them all and we'll leave you howling, mostly from laughter.

Sometimes because you're turning into a werewolf. Ooh. Listen along as I try and guess the movie's twist, predict who will survive, and answer the hardest question of all. What would you do? So please listen to new episodes of Ruined every time. Tuesday on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts. And whatever you do, we're begging you, please keep it spooky.