Original Story
The discoverer's name: Andrew Quinn
(29-year-old male, Canadian Nationallity)
Andrew Quinn, a 29-year-old Canadian, lived an ordinary life in town. A few years ago, he met Arthur when Arthur began coming into town occasionally to sell eggs and fresh vegetables from his farm. Arthur was not much of a talker, but he was polite. Over time, after seeing him often enough, Andrew would chat with him here and there, and that casual acquaintance gradually grew into a close friendship.
Arthur lived deep in the woods, far from town. He owned a cabin, a decent barn, and a farm where he raised animals and grew crops as needed. Most days, he kept to himself, venturing into town only when he had surplus goods to sell. He never stayed long, just enough to finish his business and leave. The woods where Arthur lived unsettled most people, but he seemed at ease there and preferred the isolation.
Recently, Arthur told Andrew that he would be traveling outside the country for two weeks to search for new farming machinery and equipment. He asked Andrew to stay at the cabin while he was gone to take care of the animals, watch the crops, and make sure the place did not get robbed. Arthur said he trusted Andrew more than anyone else, and Andrew agreed. He had always been curious about life in a remote cabin deep in the forest, and this felt like the perfect opportunity. Arthur contacted him beforehand with detailed instructions for feeding the animals and maintaining the farm. He also mentioned that the fridge would be fully stocked, since the nearest store was far away and the area was almost completely isolated. Before leaving, Arthur said one thing that lingered in Andrew’s mind. “Whatever you see, ignore it and pretend that you did not see anything.” He said it with a slightly playful tone, and Andrew laughed, assuming it was just a joke meant to scare him.
Andrew drove toward the cabin, traveling deeper into the forest. After hours on the road, he reached the narrow stretch leading directly to Arthur’s property. Tall trees crowded both sides, their branches blocking out the fading daylight. It was around six in the evening, just before sunset, when his car began making strange noises. He pulled over and stepped out to check the engine using his phone’s flashlight.
After a few moments, Andrew felt a strange, heavy sensation, like something was watching him. At first, he ignored it and kept working, but the feeling only grew stronger. Eventually, he looked up. Behind the trees, partially obscured by fallen logs, stood a dark, undefined figure. He could not tell if it was an animal or a person. The forest was known for wildlife, including deer, bears, and worse.
Andrew locked eyes with the figure for several seconds. A sudden chill ran down his spine despite the mild air. He raised his flashlight and pointed it toward the trees, but there was nothing there, only branches and shadows. He exhaled slowly, convincing himself that the isolation was playing tricks on his mind. Still, deep down, he knew he had seen something humanoid, horned, and wrong. The engine had overheated, so he waited inside the car until it cooled, the oppressive sense of being watched never fading. When the car finally started again, he drove off quickly, unable to shake the feeling that something followed him through the forest.
It was close to nine in the evening when Andrew arrived at the cabin. Arthur had told him the key would be hidden beneath a rock near the backyard. The cabin was larger than he expected, surrounded by fenced crops and accompanied by the distant sounds of animals in the barn. Inside, the air smelled of damp wood and soil. Andrew unpacked, changed into comfortable clothes, ate, and collapsed into bed around eleven, exhausted.
At three in the morning, a violent bang slammed against the front door. Andrew jolted awake, heart racing. Thinking someone was trying to break in, he grabbed a kitchen knife and approached the door. When he opened it, there was nothing, no person, no animal, not even footprints in the mud. He took the flashlight Arthur had left behind and searched the property, checking the barn, the crops, and the surrounding woods. “Who is there?” he shouted, but there was no response. He returned inside, locked every door and window, and tried to calm himself. As he lay back down, a thought crept into his mind. What if it was the figure from the road? Somewhere in the distance, faint scratching sounds echoed through the night, but half-asleep, he dismissed them as his imagination.
The next morning felt normal. Andrew fed the animals, watered the crops, and headed back toward the cabin. That was when he noticed deep scratches carved into the front porch. They formed strange symbols, unnatural and demonic-looking, etched into the wood. His blood ran cold. He tried calling Arthur, but there was no signal. He took photos of the symbols, hoping to send them later. The rest of the day passed quietly, but by nightfall the unease returned. Branches rustled outside, heavy footsteps moved through the darkness, and the cows began mooing in panic. Andrew grabbed the flashlight and knife and ran to the barn. When he turned on the lights, everything seemed normal until he noticed one cow staring toward the back of the structure. Following its gaze, Andrew saw something standing behind the logs.
Long bull horns rose above a massive female humanoid creature, wrong and inhuman. She bent down to his eye level, her empty black eyes locking onto his. Her mouth stretched open, revealing long, sharp teeth. The feeling Andrew had experienced on the road surged back, crushing his chest. As his body regained control, he stumbled backward, then turned and sprinted toward the cabin. She appeared in front of him instantly. Her grip closed around him as she pulled him close and unleashed a deafening, high-pitched scream directly into his face. Andrew blacked out.
Hours later, he woke on the ground, head pounding, ears ringing violently. Everything felt muffled and distorted. He forced himself up and scanned the area, but there was no sign of the creature. He staggered into the cabin and checked his phone, but still no response from Arthur. After several hours, the ringing in his ears faded, and exhaustion dragged him into a restless sleep.
The next morning, Andrew woke with an intense itch on his back. When he scratched it, his fingers came away wet with blood. Panicked, he rushed to the mirror and saw carved symbols identical to those on the porch etched into his skin. He cleaned and bandaged the wounds, shaken but alive. Despite everything, he stayed. The days passed without incident. The creature never returned, but Andrew was deeply traumatized.
When Arthur finally came back, Andrew rushed to him and told him everything. Arthur did not look surprised. He only said, “Thank God you’re alive, Andrew,” before pausing for a long moment and looking directly at him. “What happened to lead to this?” he asked calmly. His voice held no panic, no shock, only a steady, unsettling composure. That alone disturbed Andrew more than the memory of the creature. Slowly, he recounted everything from the beginning to the end: the drive through the forest, the figure on the road, the symbols carved into the wood, the encounter in the barn, the scream, and the marks left behind on his back. Arthur listened in silence, never interrupting.
When Andrew finally finished, Arthur exhaled deeply. His expression was one of quiet disapproval, not anger, but something closer to disappointment mixed with relief. “Well,” he said slowly, “you’ve learned a lesson.” Andrew looked at him, unsure what to say. “Don’t look at anything you see in this forest. Your eyes annoy them.” He paused, then spoke more softly. “But thank God that you’re alive, and thank you for keeping my cabin.” Arthur held Andrew’s gaze for a moment longer before his voice hardened. “And remember, do not do this again.”
Important Note:
This original story is centered entirely on the stalking mechanism only, detached from the hidden truth of Arthur’s servitude to her and his betrayal of Andrew.