This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Handle-Personal on 2024-11-09 19:32:17+00:00.
I’m taking to the internet to hopefully find someone else with a similar experience and maybe someone who can explain it.
A few weeks ago some friends and I decided to go on a a camping trip.
The first time I heard the humming was when we got to the entrance booth to the park. It was a low hum, almost guttural and without a source. Like the fog around me was choking the forest of its voice.
The window to the hut slid open, and a friendly woman greeted us. The conversation was filled with your basic pleasantries, but behind her, there was a tall man, another ranger I presumed, but he was facing away from us all, staring out the exit window on the other side. We checked in and drove off to the parking area, where the humming finally disappeared. We quickly unpacked and walked the mile to our secluded campsite, far from the drive-up campers. The nearest campfire was just a distant flicker. It was perfect—just us and the woods.
As the sun began to set, we had our tents up, s’mores were being made, and the fresh air of the woods filled our lungs. Deep breaths and sighs were constantly heard as the weight of our everyday life fell off our shoulders.
That first night, I woke up with a minor headache. I lay still, listening to the breeze—and then I noticed it again. The humming, faint and constant, barely beneath the wind, made my stomach twist. As I tried to focus on it, my eyes began to shut, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up again to what I could only assume was morning.
The sky was overcast, dull. The forecast didn’t call for rain, so if that was all we got, I counted myself lucky. My headache was gone, and even while looking for it, I couldn’t hear that humming anymore. Feeling much better, we ate a quick breakfast and had a short midday hike.
During that hike was my third encounter with this humming. Standing on an overlook with a view of a few hills, I caught sight of what I thought was that same ranger I saw from the booth. The one standing behind the lady. Once again, he was turned away from me, across the valley. I couldn’t make out any distinct features besides the clothes, but I remember that as soon as I saw him, the humming started. I immediately began to feel ill again, and that damn humming just kept getting louder the longer I stared. He was still. So still. No movement, almost as if he was a sculpture amongst the trees. I snapped out of the stupor of tunnel vision I was in when my friend choked while trying to drink water of all things, and they braced themselves on me for dramatic effect.
“Wrong pipe,” they squeezed out of their throat with lost breath. I looked back to find the man, and no one was there.
Our final night, we stayed up late around the campfire. I finally brought up the humming. No one else had heard it. It was only me. Feeling a little crazy, I recounted the day’s events and mentioned seeing the ranger from the booth across the valley.
“Honestly, that would be my go-to job if I could start over,” said my partner.
Aaron lit up. “Do you think she gets to drive those sweet off-road go-karts to get across all this land?”
“Oh, I meant the guy behind the lady from the booth.” I corrected
“What guy?”
Beth’s voice rose with curiosity. “I’m pretty sure it was just the girl in that booth. I remember thinking, damn, they got her out here alone?”
“Maybe it was someone on the other side of the booth?” my partner added.
I was silent. The only thing that came to my mind was a solemn “maybe” as I questioned my own memory and, honestly, my sanity at this point.
When the night set in, we repeated our s’more ritual and laid down. Trying hard to push the thought of the ranger out of my head only made me think about him more. Late in the night, it struck again. Like a needle going into my ear, the humming started, and my head immediately began to hurt. It sounded so much closer. I got up with the excuse of needing to use the restroom, but I wanted to find where this was coming from.
I took the flashlight and walked out in the direction that felt the most correct. This humming didn’t seem to have a direction; it just existed. From all around me. The further I walked into the woods, the louder it got. I didn’t want to get too far from camp, so I made the conscious decision to turn around so I couldn’t get lost. The humming suddenly got worse and made me keel over. It didn’t just feel around me; it felt inside my head like a balloon slowly inflating behind my eyes, pushing against my skull. Permeating my thoughts. I became dizzy.
I saw what appeared to be the ranger about 15 feet away. The fog was so thick, and he was so still that I must have thought he was a tree at first and didn’t notice him, but no. This was the ranger I had seen earlier. I managed to blurt out a single, “Hey,” but no response was returned. The humming became louder, and if it hadn’t been for my obsession with who this was, I would have just walked away. I crept around the figure, my unsteady hand moving the light up his body. Tattered, mud-ridden boots. Old, shredded pants. I began to stutter on nothing when the light revealed dark, red stains leading up his shirt. Terrified, I couldn’t look away.
I saw a hanging bit of flesh in front of his neck. It took my mind a moment to understand what I saw: his tongue, hanging. His bottom jaw was gone, leaving only a row of upper teeth and a gnarled mess of tongue and flesh hanging beneath it. Before I could wrestle myself from the fear that strangled me, I saw his eyes. Empty, sunken dark holes stared back. They seemed to reach out, trying to pull my eyes out to fill the space where his should have been. I couldn’t speak. Barely a breath could escape me.
I immediately felt tears welling up as I realized the humming finally had a creator. This thing was humming, almost growling. After every detail was burned into my mind, I ran back to camp. But I quickly realized he didn’t chase me. The more I thought about it, he maybe didn’t even know I was there.
I made it back to camp with wet eyes, out of breath, and tried to get out any coherent word to explain what I saw, but it was all a panicked, panted mess. We all walked back to the car together and sat there until sunrise. I could not sleep. We went back to the site to gather our things, and not a single hum was heard. As we pulled out of the campgrounds, we passed right by the booth, and I looked in the mirror to see if the man was there again. He wasn’t,
If I could go back and find him then I’ll know it was real. I feel crazy. Like I can’t even trust what I’m writing here but it felt so real. But going crazy is the only explanation I can think of as no one else heard the hum or saw the man but maybe someone else out there has and I can get some consolation on the internet. What should I do?
I think I’ve obsessed over it too much. My partner has even told me I’ve begun to hum in my sleep.