13 Creepy Stories That Will Make You Scared To Sleep Tonight

The cage in the woods

At the time, I was a 20 year old female, and I had just moved alone to a small town in Upstate NY. I had grown up in another, slightly larger town, about 60 miles away, and just wanted a new start. I love camping, often go camping in the Adirondacks, but at that time I hadn’t yet made friends to go camping with, so I wasn’t going to go into the ‘real’ woods alone.

Down the road from me, I had been walking and found an area where the power lines cut through a wooded section. (The power lines were perpendicular to the road). It was near a house, but far enough to the right of the house where I thought people wouldn’t mind if I walked up the trail that the power lines make (Not sure about other Countries, but in the US they keep power lines clear in case maintenance is necessary). So, I wander up there, noticing how it’s actually pretty deep woods and I can get far enough from the house that I saw on the road that they couldn’t possibly think I’m trying to break in or anything. BING! Idea! I could go camping up here! It’s secluded enough to give the real woods experience but close enough to the road that I wouldn’t be in real danger of wildlife or anything.

OK, sweet. So I do. I set up camp in this little clearing that I accessed by climbing the hill, following the power lines, then turned left onto what seemed to be a deer trail (Deer are everywhere in NY), then I came upon this really nice, flat, grassy clearing. I built my fire off to the side, after making sure to clear the dead wood, etc. I’m feeling really smart and independent. It was creepy to sleep in the woods alone, as I had always had at least one camping companion, but eh, whatever!
Next day, I decide to wander further down the path to see where it leads. I walk for about a half hour, and I can see some fields on the right but they are in the distance and there is a fence between the fields and the path, so again I figure people can’t be mad at me being here.

Then I come across another path, heading to the right. I follow it. A couple of feet in, it curves slightly and there is an old van on the left of the path. Well, that’s strange, but it’s about 1 pm, near noon anyway, broad daylight, birds are chirping, so I feel no danger. I go up to the van, which had obviously been there a very long time. It was 70’s style (Made me think of Scooby Doo van), and way overgrown with weeds. There are streaks of brownish red going down the side, from the bottom of the doors. I look in, and see what appears to be old bedding in the back, but it was all shredded, the curtains in the windows were shredded, and the clothing strewn about looked like it was from the 70’s or early 80’s. I still felt no danger signs. Snickering at the terrible fashions back in the day, I continue along the path for a short time…until I finish rounding the slight bend.

I stop dead in my tracks. FINALLY, FINALLY, my reptile sense, or whatever you want to call it, wakes the hell up and starts screaming at me, full volume. Up ahead, there is a creepy ass doll hanging from the trees. By it’s neck. With a rope, not just stuck in the trees. Just to the left of that, there is an old garage, overgrown with weeds. To the right of it, though…..there is this HUGE cage-like structure, easily big enough to hold a full sized man. It seems to be made up of pipes and other long metal objects, just kind of welded together; some were up and down, some were across, and the squares they made weren’t big enough to fit my head through (not that I tried!). It had four sides and a ceiling. It had other creepy ass dolls hanging from it. It also had reddish brown stains running down the sides, just like the van. Further, behind it, there is a run down house. Creeped out as all hell, I just turned tail and ran. (I am NOT a runner. I am a chunky girl, I had smoked for 6 years at that point, and I do not run. But I ran that day.) I don’t even remember the run, I just remember coming upon my campsite, grabbing my tent in one swoop as I ran past, (luckily I had put my things into the tent), ripping it out of the ground as I continued running. I left my cooler, my food, behind. Never went back for it, either.

I dropped the tent stakes somewhere along the way, and I had to repair rips in my tent. I tore down the hill (I’m still surprised I didn’t break my neck), jumped in my car and sped home. I locked all my doors, then paced my house going “what the fuck?! what the fuck?! what the fuck?!” for hours.

It’s been eleven years since that incident, and even typing it now makes my hands shake. I now live almost 1400 miles away, but I still just made sure my doors were locked (they are). Crazy thing is, it wasn’t in deep woods! Maybe in the 70’s it was though, who knows. As it stands now, though, there are people living within a short walk of this place.

And no, I know you are going to ask, no I didn’t call the cops. I can’t really articulate why. My best analysis, looking back, is that I didn’t want that creep to come find me. I should have, yes. You are right. I am hoping that it was just an old crime scene, not some sick fuck who still keeps people in cages in the woods.

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