Evil Dwells in the Forest

think these are two really good stories. I'm going to share one with you today and I'll get to the other one in the next I don't know, three or four weeks. This is a fun story. I think you guys will enjoy it. So oh. Also, his author page will be linked in the description if you want to look through his books. He's a really good writer. He's got a good imagination. This is good story, so I hope you enjoy it. All. Right, here we go The

Haunted Forest by Gregory Ballin. My daughter had talked about the Haunted Forest and Fall River for weeks, telling me how much she wanted to investigate the area. Why didn't pay her much heed? She was at that age when being in a cemetery was creepy fun, and playing with the Ouiji board seemed harmless. Party entertainment. Halloween was about scaring the crap out of herself, and the paranormal was something that needed to be explored with wildfeckless abandon regardless

of any potential danger. After weeks of discussion, she informed me she was going there by herself the following weekend. Well, curiosity got the best of me and I did a little Internet research. Being her father, I wanted to see how deep was the water my fearless daughter was waded. After half an hour of research, I learned about UFO sidings, witchcraft, human sacrifice, poltergeist, and supernatural creatures called pugwodgies. The area was five thousand acres of literal haunted forest, a part

of the Massachusetts Dark Bridgewater Triangle. Part of me chuckled and snorted over the Internet at height, but the paternal instinct inside said I needed to be there with my daughter just in case. That weekend, Armed with the map quest directions and a false sense of security, we began our journey. We parked in the large parking lot, the only car there. I read an inscription on the large statue that details some of the more colorful events of

the forests rich dark history. We both had cameras, and my daughter hoping to catch a paranormal specter, me hoping to catch some decent wildlife pictures. Before we headed into the main trail by a large yellow gate, I sat my cell phone, compass and GPS navigator. My daughter had already headed toward the trailhead, forcing me to jog to catch up. I slipped the phone in my jeans pocket as we proceeded down a large, clear trail. This doesn't

seem so scary, my daughter snorted, clearly not impressed. Don't believe all the hype, I replied, feeling slightly uneasy. The trail took a hard turn and stopped, and the wall of woodlands lay before us. To our ride, A thin path led into a thick pine grove. This way, I motioned to my daughter, taking the lead. I paused for a moment, deciding to set a GPS marker on my phone. I slipped the phone out and discovered there was no

signal here. GPS and my compass app were useless. My daughter checked her cell phone with the same uncomfortable observation. Stick to the main trails. My daughter nodded as we moved with a bit less carefree abandon The thin trail spilled into a path a foot and a half wide, covered with half buried stones and pine roots. I walked over to a dead fall and dragged it fifteen feet or so, laying it halfway on the path so we

wouldn't miss the connection on our way back. I dragged the heel of my boot and created a fifteen foot arrow on the trail leading to the tree fall. There was no way we could miss either marker. My daughter marked my paranoia as we headed down the path deeper into the forest. We talked in quiet whispers for several minutes. My daughter constantly looked through her camera lens, testing the light for pictures. Something was wrong. I couldn't put the

feeling into words. The back of my head tingled as the realization struck me. Where were the birds? It was a warm, early autumn day, the trees should be full of activity. Where were the squirrels and the chipmunks. The woods were rich with white oaks, the sound of calling chipmunks prevalent, and every forest was missing. The birds were missing, and the annoying buds of horseflies and gnats didn't exist here. I walked off the path and turned over a large rock.

There was nothing. No worms, centipedes, or any other type of insects scurried away. This forest was barren save of the vegetation, and we stood alarmed in the eerie silence. What do we do? There was a slight warble of my daughter's voice that first hint of panic. But we can turn around, I suggested, Well, we've barely been here half an hour, as she walked forward, heading deeper into the woods, looking back to make sure that I followed.

I followed in silence for fifteen more minutes. The pathway emptied into a thirty foot opening with large rock formations. To continue, we'd need to do a bit of climbing over the large obstacles. The climb wasn't too bad, and the narrow path continued. We walked in silence through the swamp area littered with dead trees, and I stopped and my eyes locked on the pond with the lily pads. I heard my daughter's footsteps as she came up beside me. What Her voice had a larger hint of fear than

before I pointed at the water. No pine skates on the surface, no dragonflies chasing mosquitoes. There's nothing, not even a frog or a freaking turtle. This whole place is dead. It's not natural, and it makes no sense. My voice was more frustrated than fearful. I was not going to show fear in front of her. Have you seen anything alive out here in the past forty five minutes? Her head shook No. I pulled out my cell phone. Still there were no bars. We're not in a landl My

hands swung to the open blue skies. We're wide open. There's no magnetic interference in these woods. We should be getting a cell signal. My daughter checked her phone. Hers was as useless as spine. The map I read at home said this trail circles around the pond and comes back. Let's just follow it and get out of here. My daughter looked up at me. I could see the fear in those almond hazel eyes. We walked side by side along the path for ten more minutes, and we cleared

the pond. But I didn't get the sense of us circling back. The position of the sun hadn't changed, and it was still behind my right shoulder. We were still going in a relatively straight line deeper into the forest. I was reluctant to vocalize my observation, and my daughter was already concerned. I wasn't going to add to that. A sense of dread crawled up my spine, exploding in a mad tingle at the base of my skull. Something

was behind us. I turned slowly, preparing to see a stranger or an animal, but it wasn't a person or any kind of animal. The air above the path twenty feet behind us flickered, flowing like waves of ambient heat over desert sand. Something inside the waves of heat moved now. I put my hand on my daughter's shoulder and pushed her forward, Come on, let's go. Her head turned back, and I waited for a scream or some kind of

panicked outburst, but there was nothing. What's wrong, dad, I felt my head shake and forced the battle ready tenseness from my body. Nothing. Let's just keep going. Maybe the trail circles back further ahead. I dared to look back, and the anomaly was there, blocking our retreat, but my daughter didn't see it, and we moved quickly, following the path, pushing deep into a section of forests thick with oaks, maple,

and other hardwood trees. The colorful canopy of the autumn leaves covered the trail, effectively choking out the afternoon sunlight. When whistled through the trees angrily, rustling the leaves around us, and the breeze was ice cold, sending a deep chill down my spine. My daughter was visibly trembling. That wind is freezing, she shuddered, rubbing her arms briskly. I ignored the chill and guided her forward along the path. The trail led to another opening. My stomach turned and my

daughter gasped and shot. The opening was identical to the area we were at thirty minutes ago. The rocks were identical. The overgrown weeds and brush were a perfect match to the rocks we'd climb before. How did we get back here? Her question followed a blistering string of curses. It can't be the same outcropping. I did my best to stay calm. We haven't turned around. We've been walking so out by southwest with some small deviations. This can't be the same place.

I approached the two larger rocks, even the hand and foot holes seemed identical. Stay here, I'm gonna climb up and see if the path is similar. Two quick pulls and I was over the rock, staring into another distortion. Only this one was larger, easily a dozen feet wide, covering a large portion of the clearing and blocking the path. Beyond the air shimmered like heat waves rising off hot sands or summer pavement. I was close enough to feel any radiant heat, but there was none. Fear naked, primal,

and unfiltered savaged my body. I stood eyes locked on the hypnotic distortion, straining my eyes to unsee the illusion nature placed before me with the ripples. Something moved and my hand clenched, feet spread apart, ready for a fight or fled light response. I spotted a baseball sized rock, picked it up, testing its weight, tossing the object between both hands. The shimmer moved closer, inching forward, a tiger creeping up slowly on the unsuspecting Gazella and Paula, waiting

for the chance to pounce. Panic I hurled the stone missile with every fiber of my strength that I could muster, and the rock passed through the barrier with no effect. I listened. The stone never struck the trees behind it. I turned and leapt the seven feet or so, rolling to absorb some of the impact. As my legs hit the ground, my daughter scream of surprise echoed, shattering the silent woods. I stood, brushing myself off, forcing her behind me.

My eyes locked on the large boulders, hands raised, my breath, hissing through clenched teeth. My daughter screamed, demanding to know what was going on. Her eyes fell upon the boulders, face pale as her jaw dropped. The rippling portal stopped at the rock's edge, and we gazed, dumbfounded at the anomaly. Before I could say or do anything, the ribbons of distortion vanished, and my daughter's eyes were locked on the area the distortion occupied just seconds ago. I could see

the trembling in her arms and shoulders. What the hell was that? Her panicked whisper accompanied a river of tears flowing down her pale cheek. I don't know. I put my hand on her trembling shoulder. We need to go back the way we came. We'll backtrack and get the hell out of here. She nodded, and I silently prayed. Whatever this thing was, it just wanted us out of the area. If this thing wanted us gone, I'd gladly oblige.

We passed by the pond without incident, making our way at a feverish pace, stumbling along the path, and my daughter held a sigh of relief. As the path emptied into the first rock clearing. We climbed down the large boulders and continued on, both feeling a bit better having seen a familiar landmark. We walked in silence another half an hour before I noticed the trees were wrong. We should be in the pine thickets by now walking a

ruddy root littered path dotted with stones. We were walking toward the sun, the right general direction, but the path was wider and smooth, made of compacted dirt. I stopped. My daughter nearly plowed into me. Now what she asked, rarely the trees are wrong. We were walking in an evergreen forest full of pines and cedars and other cypress. Before the first clearing, we passed the first boulders. We climbed a good while ago. I pointed up at the

tree canopy. These are oaks, maples and other leaf bearing trees. Are you saying we're lost. Her voice was near the breaking point of full on panic. Well, how can we be lost? I don't know. We're going in the right direction, but these aren't the woods we walked through earlier. Just stay close to me, Dad, How can that be? We never left the path, we just followed it back. I didn't see a second pathway, did you? I shook my head.

I wished I had an answer for my daughter. I was just as confused and turned around as a newbie cup scout on his first nature height thirty plus years in the woods, and I was beside myself. I didn't have any answers that, above all else scared me. I couldn't show fear in front of her. She was looking for me for strength and calm. I didn't have the luxury of falling apart or appearing less than in control. I pointed further down the path. Let's go for another

ten minutes on this path. If we don't see anything familiar, we'll try something else, because just walking has worked so well so far. She grumbled and walked ahead of me. I couldn't think. My mind rased trying to find some rational explanation for what we both saw. And why the forest seemed to change at random. My daughter was far ahead of me, moving at a fast cliff. Wait, I

called out, but she kept going forward. The path ahead changed direction, twisting ninety degrees left and back into the forest. I ran, screaming her name, telling her to stop. Barely twenty feet in front of my daughter, the distortion materialized from nothingness. Something was inside the ripples. A misshapen hand motioned my daughter forward, and she kept walking toward oblivion.

I screamed her name again, desperately grabbing her shoulder. Barely six feet from the phenomenon, I made a cockle of frustrations, shattering the woodland silence. Anice cold wind slammed in to me like a freight train, numbing my arms and chest. She's mine, she's mine, Give her to me, An angry voice shrieked. As I yanked my daughter away and off the trail. Some force slammed into my back, pushing me forward, forcing the breath out of my lungs. I fell on

top of my daughter, shielding her with my body. She was shivering and weeping. The frozen gale continued to slam against me, pushing me harder into the earth. My arms strained against what seemed like hundreds of pounds, threatening to crush me in an oppose of force, twigs and force. Debris flew overhead as that band, she wail of anger and longing cried out, She's mine. I wrapped myself tighter around my daughter, shielding her as best as I could.

We lay motionless for several seconds, and during the frozen wind, crushing force, and the shower of forest debris, I focused my thoughts and prayed silently, and then shouted at the top of my lungs, no one single word, infused with all the love, protection, and mortal rage I could muster. The icy gale subsided. I took a few seconds to gather my wits. My daughter was shaking, engulfed by abject terror.

It's okay, I've got you. I repeated that mantra at least a dozen times, more to convince myself than her. I stood in my back, aching an arms scraped from the flying debris. My daughter got to her feet, and she stumbled once and fell into me, and she was crying. I kept repeating my mantra, holding on to her, offering what little protection my arms could provide against something clearly not of the natural plane. A low, thrumbing hum echoed through the woods. I dared to look back. The distortion

was still there. I strained through the ripples to see what figure hid behind the curtain. I could only see a vague outline. I turned toward it again, my eyes narrowed and paternal well focused. Anger replaced fear. No, I shouted, like I was addressing a misbehaved puppy. I got in my daughter back on the path, away from the distortion, peering back every few steps to assure it wasn't following us and stalking me like it had before. Realization hit me.

The trees surrounding us were evergreen. We were in the pine forest. The path was littered with stones and exposed pine roots. How the hell did that happen? Just minutes ago we were under a thick oak canopy. This was impossible, a welcome development, but still impossible. And as we walked back, I scanned the ground for my heel marks and the

dead tree fall I dragged onto the path. It was as if the forest erased my trail markers, and I kept walking straight into the woods, following the sunlight filtered through the pine needles, and I kept my eyes forward, forcing myself to look straight ahead and not be distracted. Follow the sun. I kept whispering in my head, that's

the way out of here. My daughter held my hand tightly as we forced our way through several thickets of saplings, and we made our way out of the woods and were back on the large, wide path, looking over to see the bright yellow gate to the forest parking lot. I pointed it out to my daughter and she sighed in relief. We practically ran the fifty yards. Once we crossed the gates threshold, my cell phone began to buzz and beat. One hundred pounds of dread fell off my shoulders.

A chipmunk scurried across the parking lot, and a large crow flew overhead. This was the first while life I'd seen all day. We were out of it and safe, but safe from what My mind struggled to rationalize the experience, and my mind falled miserably. Daddy, my daughter whispered, pointing down toward the wide path. An old woman stood on the edge of the woods, arms crossed. I could feel the weight of her stare. She's lonely. My daughter's voice

was tinged with sadness and a strange longing. She's so lonely, dad, how do you know that? I demanded. I can hear her talking, can't you? My skin crawled. We weren't beyond this thing's influence. At least my daughter wasn't. No, I'm sorry, she's lonely, but she wanted to take you. Didn't you hear me yelling at you back there? She shook her head. No, I just felt the urge to keep walking. I didn't see the ripples until you grabbed me. Her face pale.

I would have walked right through it if you hadn't a pat at her shoulder. Don't think about that. We both looked back at the old woman, and my daughter shouted, I'm sorry you're lonely, but I can't go with you. I hope you'll be okay. Only my daughter could switch from fear to compassion and empathy within a heartbeat. Maybe that was what drew this thing to her, that rare gift of youthful compassion, unburdened by this sour pessimism of adulthood.

The old woman raised a wrinkled hand and waved. My daughter waved back, and the woman turned walking into the rippled anomaly and vanished the distortion winked out of existence. I hugged her one more time, Let's go home. I sat in the living room later that evening listening to my daughter recount the tale to her mother and brother for at least the fifteenth time. My wife stared at me in disbelief, and I simply nod at once. My son just kept saying how he wished he was there,

and I laughed a bit inside. He'd of wet himself. My son asked me later what I thought we'dn't counter, and I wasted an entire evening of mental energy trying to figure that out. Son. As near as I can figure, it was some kind of a portal to where he wondered. I scratched my cheek to whatever eternal round that old woman has been condemned to spend eternity. That was the best my twenty first century sophisticated mind could come up with. She wanted to take your sister there for an eternal visit.

Near as I can figure, my son snickered that old lady would toss her ass back here after a week of her bitching and moaning. I didn't mean to laugh, but my daughter could probably drive a ghost crazy. At least I ended the day on a lighter note, tak