This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/megaman638 on 2024-11-10 20:45:28+00:00.
My husband, David, and I were always avid campers. We were both always the outdoorsy types and felt most at home in the woods sitting by a campfire. Something about the peace of nature and silence of the forest would always put my mind at ease. However we could never find that peace at a state park or private campground. It just wasn’t the same as the primitive camping we enjoyed so much. We always picked up the best spots from locals and other primitive campers. There are so many beautiful views and peaceful sites that are hidden away.
One such site we heard about was about 5 miles off of route 3 in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom. We heard stories about the mountain views and a peaceful lake that was one short hike away. We drove up to one of those dirt rest stops for when you need to use the bathroom or switch drivers and began our hike from there. After about 2 hours of hiking, we found a clearing in the forest. It was roughly 30 feet across and just as wide. We immediately began setting up camp. David began to set up the tent and I went to collect some branches for kindling. While collecting some kindling I heard something off in the distance. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but then I heard it again and the noise was much clearer. Laughter. I mentioned what I heard to David and we agreed it was most likely just someone else camping nearby. I was a little disappointed at the idea that this site wasn’t as isolated as we thought. But I wasn’t going to let this ruin our trip.
After setting up our camp, we went looking for the mountain view we heard so much about. Amazingly, it was only a 15 minute hike from our site. The view was beautiful. The vibrant oranges and reds of early autumn spread across the rolling mountains was something I never tired of. We sat on the edge of the cliff and enjoyed our trail mix while taking in the nature Vermont is known for. Once we began to pack up and head back, I heard the laughter. Closer this time. It was coming from down the cliff and it was much clearer. It was high pitched and giggly, like that of a small child. I pointed this out to David but he didn’t hear anything. He played it off as being the wind or maybe the campers I heard earlier. I really wanted to believe him but something about the laughter was just wrong.
I pushed down my concerns and we returned to camp. The sun was starting to go down when we got back to camp so David got a fire going while I started prepping dinner. We sat in our chairs roasting hot dogs over the fire just talking when I heard that damn laughter a third time. At this point I was getting a little freaked out. David heard it this time and agreed that it was creepy but said it was probably nothing to worry about. He rationalized that it was probably just other campers but just in case we would load the Glock 19 and keep the handgun and bear spray close when we went to sleep. This made me feel more comfortable about staying. I didn’t want the trip to end but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I eventually relaxed enough to fall asleep. I woke up a couple hours later in the pitch black. I wasn’t sure why I woke up or why I could seem to get back to sleep. That was until I heard that fucking laughter again.
Only this time, it was so distant. It was close. Very close. I sounded almost right outside my tent. It almost seemed to bounce around, coming from different directions until it was coming from every direction. It was almost deafening when it suddenly stopped. I quickly turned to David and yelled for him to grab the gun. When I didn’t hear him, I grabbed my flashlight and tried to shake him up. I grabbed at him only to realize I was shaking an empty sleeping bag. The moment I realized he was gone was when I heard a smack on the side of the tent. It was a hand. The small hand of a child. Then another and another and another all accompanied by that same laughter. Coming from every direction was that fucking laughter so loud I thought my ear drums were going to pop. Suddenly, to my horror, the hands started pressing in on the tent and the walls began to close in on me. Between the deafening laughter and claustrophobia of the tent being pressed in, I felt myself freezing up. I only broke out of my daze when thoughts of David crept into my end. Where was he? Did whoever or whatever was doing this have him? Did it hurt him?
I felt a rush of anger and adrenaline like nothing I’d ever felt before. I grabbed my gun and flashlight and tore out of the tent. I screamed into the night and let off a shot. That shot brought the woods to an instant silence. I quickly scanned the clearing, calling for David. That was when I noticed a pile of leaves on the other side of the clearing at the base of a large tree. I slowly crept over terrified of what I might find. I quietly called for David until my flashlight caught a glimpse of David’s flannel under the leaves. I brushed the leaves aside and was met with David. His skin was pale and cold to the touch. His eyes were still and lifeless. My David was dead. Upon seeing my husband dead, all my confidence was replaced by pure dread. This dread was closely followed by laughter. That damn laughter, taunting me.
My fight or flight hit me hard and I chose flight. I grabbed my bag and ran in the direction of the trail head, the laughter following me the whole time. When I arrived at the car, I locked myself inside and called 911, begging for help. Some rangers and state troopers showed up with an ambulance in tow. They scoured the woods finding my campsite and my David but little else. David’s death was officially ruled an accident though they never could explain how the accident happened. But I know what happened. Something in those woods killed him. It’s still out there and I think it might have followed me home. Sometimes, on quiet nights, when I listen closely on my back porch, I hear the faint sound of a child’s laughter.