WEBVTT 1 00:00:00.240 --> 00:00:01.159 Story one. 2 00:00:01.240 --> 00:00:04.120 I've never told anyone this in full detail, because honestly, 3 00:00:04.400 --> 00:00:07.000 I'm not sure anyone would believe me. But if you're 4 00:00:07.040 --> 00:00:09.519 reading this, I hope you understand just how close I 5 00:00:09.599 --> 00:00:13.679 came to losing everything, my life, my friends, maybe even 6 00:00:13.679 --> 00:00:17.280 my sanity. It happened during the summer of twenty twelve. 7 00:00:17.879 --> 00:00:20.280 I was living in a small town in southern Missouri, 8 00:00:20.600 --> 00:00:23.000 the kind of place where folks swap gossip at the 9 00:00:23.000 --> 00:00:27.000 gas station and tornado sirens are as familiar as church bells. 10 00:00:27.760 --> 00:00:30.039 A few friends and I had decided to escape the 11 00:00:30.039 --> 00:00:33.039 grind of daily life by camping out in the Ozark 12 00:00:33.119 --> 00:00:38.479 National Forest. We were a mixed group of free spirits, musicians, artists, 13 00:00:38.520 --> 00:00:42.439 and wanderers, all looking for something out there. What that 14 00:00:42.640 --> 00:00:46.719 something was, I don't know. Maybe it was peace, maybe 15 00:00:46.719 --> 00:00:51.280 it was chaos. Either way, we found it. The day 16 00:00:51.399 --> 00:00:54.600 started out sticky and humid, a thick blanket of air 17 00:00:54.679 --> 00:00:56.960 hanging over us as we set up our little camp 18 00:00:57.000 --> 00:00:59.600 near a ravine. We'd been there about a week by then. 19 00:01:00.280 --> 00:01:03.119 That's when the first rumble of thunder rolled across the sky. 20 00:01:03.759 --> 00:01:07.519 The forecast had called for rain, sure, but this was different. 21 00:01:08.000 --> 00:01:10.280 This was the kind of thunder that shakes you to 22 00:01:10.359 --> 00:01:14.000 your core, A low, guttural growl that seemed to rise 23 00:01:14.040 --> 00:01:17.280 out of the earth itself. Y'all hear that, I asked, 24 00:01:17.280 --> 00:01:19.920 looking up at the others. They were sprawled out on 25 00:01:19.959 --> 00:01:23.200 a patch of mossy ground, passing around a battered acoustic 26 00:01:23.200 --> 00:01:28.120 guitar and talking about nothing in particular. Storm's coming, Jake said, 27 00:01:28.400 --> 00:01:31.799 strumming a lazy cord. His voice didn't match the tension 28 00:01:31.840 --> 00:01:34.319 building in the air. It was as if the forest 29 00:01:34.400 --> 00:01:38.799 was holding its breath. Then came the sirens. Faint at first, 30 00:01:38.879 --> 00:01:42.000 just a distant well carried on the wind, but unmistakable 31 00:01:42.560 --> 00:01:48.040 tornado sirens. Everyone froze, their faces snapping to attension, like 32 00:01:48.120 --> 00:01:51.400 deer caught in headlights. We've got a mover, I said, 33 00:01:51.719 --> 00:01:54.840 standing up so fast my head spun. I wasn't from 34 00:01:54.840 --> 00:01:57.239 the area, but I'd heard enough stories to know these 35 00:01:57.280 --> 00:01:59.959 storms don't play around. Get your stuff and follow me. 36 00:02:01.040 --> 00:02:04.439 Most of them hesitated, their movements sluggish as they packed up. 37 00:02:05.239 --> 00:02:08.159 Some of them were high, some just naive. But I 38 00:02:08.159 --> 00:02:10.960 didn't have time to argue. The sky had turned an 39 00:02:11.039 --> 00:02:14.159 eerie greenish gray, and the wind was picking up, rattling 40 00:02:14.240 --> 00:02:18.240 the trees. Above us, branches creaked and groaned like old doors. 41 00:02:18.919 --> 00:02:21.960 Where are we going? Asked Mia, her voice trembling as 42 00:02:21.960 --> 00:02:25.719 she struggled with her backpack down. I said, we need 43 00:02:25.759 --> 00:02:29.599 to find low ground. The ravine seemed like our best bet. 44 00:02:29.800 --> 00:02:32.080 It wasn't far from where we'd set up camp, and 45 00:02:32.159 --> 00:02:35.080 I figured the rocks would offer some shelter from flying debris. 46 00:02:35.639 --> 00:02:38.919 But as we scrambled down, I realized we had another problem. 47 00:02:39.319 --> 00:02:42.120 The river running through the ravine was already swelling from 48 00:02:42.159 --> 00:02:45.479 the rain, which had started falling in the thick fat drops. 49 00:02:46.000 --> 00:02:49.599 The air was electric, crackling with something primal and dangerous. 50 00:02:50.199 --> 00:02:52.759 We found a spot near a two tier shale waterfall, 51 00:02:53.039 --> 00:02:56.759 crouching beneath an overhang of rock. It wasn't perfect, but 52 00:02:56.840 --> 00:02:59.319 it was the best we could do. I could feel 53 00:02:59.360 --> 00:03:02.280 the tension in the group, a collective unease that had 54 00:03:02.360 --> 00:03:05.719 nothing to do with the weather. This isn't safe, Jake muttered, 55 00:03:05.759 --> 00:03:08.919 his earlier bravado gone. He was gripping a broken tree 56 00:03:08.919 --> 00:03:12.280 branch like it was a lifeline. Nowhere safe right now. 57 00:03:12.360 --> 00:03:16.240 I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended. Just stay 58 00:03:16.360 --> 00:03:20.280 low and keep quiet. The wind howled through the ravine, 59 00:03:20.319 --> 00:03:23.680 and the rain turned into a torrential downpour. Then came 60 00:03:23.719 --> 00:03:26.919 the sound I'll never forget. It wasn't just a roar, 61 00:03:27.439 --> 00:03:31.439 it was a living, breathing thing. The river, swollen and furious, 62 00:03:31.719 --> 00:03:35.280 surged with terrifying speed. I turned just in time to 63 00:03:35.280 --> 00:03:38.439 see it, a wall of water, barreling down the ravine 64 00:03:38.479 --> 00:03:42.319 like some unstoppable force of nature. It was easily fifteen 65 00:03:42.319 --> 00:03:46.960 feet high, dark and churning with debris. Hold on, I shouted, 66 00:03:47.439 --> 00:03:49.599 though I wasn't sure what we were supposed to hold on. 67 00:03:49.639 --> 00:03:53.120 To the ground beneath us trembled as the floodwaters smashed 68 00:03:53.159 --> 00:03:56.800 against the rocks, spraying us with icy mist. The noise 69 00:03:56.879 --> 00:04:01.039 was deafening, a cacophony of crashing water, snapping branches, and 70 00:04:01.080 --> 00:04:04.800 our own panicked breaths. We huddled together, clinging to the 71 00:04:04.879 --> 00:04:08.639 rocky outcrop, as the water rushed past mere feet below us. 72 00:04:09.159 --> 00:04:13.120 For a moment, time seemed to stretch, each second in eternity. 73 00:04:13.879 --> 00:04:16.120 My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst. 74 00:04:16.720 --> 00:04:20.600 And then it was over. The water receded as quickly 75 00:04:20.639 --> 00:04:24.319 as it had come, leaving behind a scene of utter devastation. 76 00:04:25.240 --> 00:04:28.560 Trees had been uprooted, their massive trunks tangled in the 77 00:04:28.600 --> 00:04:31.480 remnants of the torrent. The air was thick with the 78 00:04:31.519 --> 00:04:35.920 smell of wet earth and something metallic like blood. Is 79 00:04:35.959 --> 00:04:38.759 everyone okay, I asked, my voice barely audible over the 80 00:04:38.800 --> 00:04:39.720 ringing in my ears. 81 00:04:40.199 --> 00:04:41.120 One by one they. 82 00:04:41.000 --> 00:04:44.759 Nodded, their faces pale and shell shocked. We didn't speak 83 00:04:44.839 --> 00:04:48.079 much after that. There was nothing to say. We climbed 84 00:04:48.079 --> 00:04:50.759 out of the ravine in silence, our clothes soaked and 85 00:04:50.759 --> 00:04:53.959 our spirits battered. I don't think any of us ever 86 00:04:54.000 --> 00:04:56.800 went back to that spot. The forest had shown us 87 00:04:56.959 --> 00:05:01.560 just how small we were, how fragile. That that was enough 88 00:05:01.600 --> 00:05:02.879 to haunt me for a lifetime. 89 00:05:03.480 --> 00:05:04.040 Story two. 90 00:05:04.600 --> 00:05:07.360 It all happened on a Tuesday morning, the kind where 91 00:05:07.360 --> 00:05:11.079 the world feels oddly still. My name's Caleb, and I 92 00:05:11.160 --> 00:05:14.600 live in a small mountain town called Ridgeview. Were surrounded 93 00:05:14.680 --> 00:05:18.639 by steep inclines and dense pine forests. Life here is 94 00:05:18.680 --> 00:05:23.040 simple quiet, but the kind of quiet that carries an edge, 95 00:05:23.439 --> 00:05:27.319 like something's always waiting just out of sight. That's probably 96 00:05:27.319 --> 00:05:29.920 why I never thought twice about heading up that winding 97 00:05:29.959 --> 00:05:30.720 dirt road alone. 98 00:05:30.759 --> 00:05:31.279 That morning. 99 00:05:31.560 --> 00:05:34.319 I was driving my old pickup truck, a clunky but 100 00:05:34.399 --> 00:05:38.000 reliable beast that had seen its fair share of tough roads. 101 00:05:38.439 --> 00:05:41.279 I'd planned to collect some firewood from the higher elevations. 102 00:05:41.839 --> 00:05:44.639 With winter on its way, everyone in Ridgeview knew to 103 00:05:44.639 --> 00:05:47.519 stock up. The road was narrow, barely wide enough for 104 00:05:47.600 --> 00:05:50.839 one vehicle, with sheer drops on one side and jagged 105 00:05:50.920 --> 00:05:54.240 boulders scattered along the other. I'd driven it dozens of 106 00:05:54.279 --> 00:05:58.680 times before, so I wasn't worried, not yet anyway. About 107 00:05:58.720 --> 00:06:01.920 halfway up the mountain, the air started to change. A 108 00:06:02.040 --> 00:06:05.600 thick fog rolled in out of nowhere, blanketing everything in 109 00:06:05.639 --> 00:06:10.120 a gray haze. Visibility dropped to almost nothing. I slowed 110 00:06:10.160 --> 00:06:12.920 to a crawl, my hands gripping the wheel tighter than 111 00:06:12.959 --> 00:06:16.639 I'd like to admit. The tires crunched over loose gravel, 112 00:06:16.800 --> 00:06:19.199 and I couldn't shake the feeling that the mountain itself 113 00:06:19.240 --> 00:06:19.879 was watching me. 114 00:06:20.600 --> 00:06:21.399 Then it happened. 115 00:06:21.920 --> 00:06:24.680 The truck's back tires hit a patch of loose dirt, 116 00:06:24.839 --> 00:06:27.399 and before I knew it, the whole thing started sliding. 117 00:06:28.199 --> 00:06:31.839 Time stretched out in that moment. I remember the sickening 118 00:06:31.920 --> 00:06:34.639 lurch in my stomach, the way the steering wheel felt 119 00:06:34.720 --> 00:06:37.360 useless in my hands as the truck veered toward the edge. 120 00:06:37.800 --> 00:06:40.120 My heart was pounding so loud it drowned out the 121 00:06:40.160 --> 00:06:43.920 sound of gravel scattering under the tires. No no, no, 122 00:06:44.240 --> 00:06:46.720 I yelled, yanking the wheel to the right, but it 123 00:06:46.800 --> 00:06:50.720 was no use. The truck tipped the passenger side, lifting 124 00:06:50.759 --> 00:06:53.680 off the ground. As the weight shifted, I could see 125 00:06:53.720 --> 00:06:56.600 the drop, now hundreds of feet down, into a mess 126 00:06:56.639 --> 00:07:01.360 of rocks and trees, and then a jolt, the truck 127 00:07:01.439 --> 00:07:05.360 slammed into something solid. My head snapped forward, hitting the 128 00:07:05.399 --> 00:07:10.720 steering wheel. Stars danced in my vision, but I was alive, barely. 129 00:07:11.639 --> 00:07:14.160 When I opened my eyes, I realized what had stopped me. 130 00:07:14.759 --> 00:07:18.560 A massive boulder, weathered in gray, had wedged itself under 131 00:07:18.600 --> 00:07:21.519 the truck's frame three inches to the left or right, 132 00:07:21.959 --> 00:07:24.519 and it would have missed entirely. I would have been 133 00:07:24.600 --> 00:07:27.639 nothing more than a headline in the local paper, man 134 00:07:27.680 --> 00:07:31.560 found dead after truck plunges off mountain road. My hands 135 00:07:31.560 --> 00:07:34.680 were trembling as I turned the ignition off. I didn't 136 00:07:34.759 --> 00:07:37.920 dare move, afraid any shift in weight might dislodge the 137 00:07:37.959 --> 00:07:42.000 precarious balance. The boulder groaned under the truck's weight, and 138 00:07:42.040 --> 00:07:46.800 I could hear the faint creak of metal protesting against gravity. Okay, Caleb, 139 00:07:47.040 --> 00:07:50.399 I muttered to myself, trying to stay calm. Think you 140 00:07:50.560 --> 00:07:54.319 just gotta get out, easy, does it? I unbuckled my 141 00:07:54.360 --> 00:07:57.279 seat belt, every motion feeling like it took an eternity. 142 00:07:57.800 --> 00:07:59.680 The door on the driver's side was wedged against the 143 00:07:59.759 --> 00:08:02.240 rock wall, so I had no choice but to crawl 144 00:08:02.319 --> 00:08:05.639 over to the passenger side. With every shift of my weight, 145 00:08:05.720 --> 00:08:08.839 the truck grown louder. My breath caught in my throat 146 00:08:08.839 --> 00:08:12.120 when I felt it tilt ever so slightly. Finally I 147 00:08:12.160 --> 00:08:14.800 managed to get the passenger door open. The fog had 148 00:08:14.839 --> 00:08:18.759 thickened even more, swirling like smoke around me. I could 149 00:08:18.800 --> 00:08:21.319 barely see the ground below the truck, but I had 150 00:08:21.319 --> 00:08:24.360 no choice. I grabbed the edge of the doorframe and 151 00:08:24.439 --> 00:08:27.199 swung my legs out, praying the truck wouldn't give way. 152 00:08:27.879 --> 00:08:30.920 The moment my boots hit solid ground, I ran. I 153 00:08:30.959 --> 00:08:34.399 didn't stop to look back, didn't stop to think. My 154 00:08:34.480 --> 00:08:37.200 legs carried me down the mountain faster than I'd ever. 155 00:08:37.000 --> 00:08:38.039 Moved in my life. 156 00:08:38.240 --> 00:08:41.360 Adrenaline and sheer terror were the only things keeping me 157 00:08:41.480 --> 00:08:44.799 upright as I stumbled over rocks and roots. It wasn't 158 00:08:44.840 --> 00:08:47.879 until I reached a clearing a good half mile down 159 00:08:48.240 --> 00:08:51.720 that I allowed myself to stop. My chest heaved and 160 00:08:51.759 --> 00:08:54.759 my hands were scraped and bloodied from the fall. I 161 00:08:54.799 --> 00:08:57.600 looked back up the mountain, but the fog had swallowed everything. 162 00:08:58.159 --> 00:09:00.000 For a moment, I wondered if it had all been 163 00:09:00.159 --> 00:09:03.360 some kind of hallucination, a cruel trick of the mind. 164 00:09:04.080 --> 00:09:05.919 But then I saw the faint outline of the truck 165 00:09:06.399 --> 00:09:09.960 still perched on that boulder, like a warning. I made 166 00:09:09.960 --> 00:09:13.639 it back to Ridgeview that afternoon, shaking and pale. When 167 00:09:13.639 --> 00:09:16.279 I told my story at the local diner, no one 168 00:09:16.320 --> 00:09:19.559 believed me at first. You've got the luck of the devil, 169 00:09:20.039 --> 00:09:22.360 old mister Barrett said, shaking his head. 170 00:09:23.000 --> 00:09:23.799 Maybe he was right. 171 00:09:24.399 --> 00:09:27.440 That boulder saved my life, But to this day I 172 00:09:27.480 --> 00:09:30.519 can't shake the feeling that something else was at play. 173 00:09:30.600 --> 00:09:34.080 It wasn't just luck. It was too perfect, too precise. 174 00:09:34.759 --> 00:09:37.360 Sometimes late at night I think about that fog and 175 00:09:37.399 --> 00:09:40.080 the way it rolled in out of nowhere. It's the 176 00:09:40.200 --> 00:09:43.360 kind of thing that makes you question everything, that leaves 177 00:09:43.399 --> 00:09:46.000 you wondering if the mountain wanted me dead, or if 178 00:09:46.039 --> 00:09:49.000 it had decided for some reason to let me live. 179 00:09:50.039 --> 00:09:53.720 Story three. It was a regular Tuesday morning, or so 180 00:09:53.840 --> 00:09:57.759 I thought. My name's Tim and I live in Wichita, Kansas. 181 00:09:58.120 --> 00:10:01.200 I'm just your average office worker, the kind who punches 182 00:10:01.200 --> 00:10:04.120 in at nine and punches out at five, counting down 183 00:10:04.200 --> 00:10:08.639 the hours in between. That day started like any other, coffee, 184 00:10:08.720 --> 00:10:13.039 a bagel, and the endless loop of emails. But by lunch, 185 00:10:13.159 --> 00:10:16.080 things took a turn that I can only describe as surreal. 186 00:10:16.960 --> 00:10:20.200 It started with a strange feeling, almost like I wasn't 187 00:10:20.360 --> 00:10:23.799 entirely in my body. Not an out of body experience, 188 00:10:23.879 --> 00:10:26.759 per se, but a sensation that I was just a 189 00:10:26.799 --> 00:10:29.799 fraction off, like my soul had shifted a couple of 190 00:10:29.840 --> 00:10:32.759 inches to the left. The fluorescent lights above my desk 191 00:10:32.799 --> 00:10:37.120 felt harsh, their flicker more noticeable than usual. The hum 192 00:10:37.159 --> 00:10:40.279 of the office buzzed in slow motion. I was present, 193 00:10:40.440 --> 00:10:44.440 but not quite there. Tim, you good, my co worker 194 00:10:44.519 --> 00:10:47.840 Steve asked. He's one of those guys who's annoyingly observant, 195 00:10:48.320 --> 00:10:52.360 but at that moment I was grateful for it. I 196 00:10:52.360 --> 00:10:55.519 I don't feel right, I admitted, my voice sounding distant 197 00:10:55.519 --> 00:10:58.679 to my own ears. Not right like flu not right, 198 00:10:59.240 --> 00:11:03.279 or not right like er not right. His tone turned serious. 199 00:11:03.720 --> 00:11:05.960 He could tell this wasn't a run of the mill complaint. 200 00:11:06.519 --> 00:11:09.679 Maybe urgent care, I mumbled, trying to stay calm. He 201 00:11:09.720 --> 00:11:13.840 grabbed his keys without hesitation. Let's go at the clinic. 202 00:11:13.879 --> 00:11:18.360 The nurse checked my blood pressure, and her expression immediately shifted. Sir, 203 00:11:18.480 --> 00:11:20.480 you're going to need to head to an emergency room. 204 00:11:20.879 --> 00:11:25.200 There's one five minutes from here. Uh okay, sure, I replied, 205 00:11:25.480 --> 00:11:27.840 still feeling like I was observing the scene from outside 206 00:11:27.879 --> 00:11:30.519 my body. The drive there felt like it was happening 207 00:11:30.559 --> 00:11:34.320 in a dream. Everything blurry, the world moving at half speed. 208 00:11:34.840 --> 00:11:39.919 The er was unusually quiet, almost unnervingly so. Within minutes, 209 00:11:39.960 --> 00:11:42.960 I was hooked up to machines, nurses whispering to each 210 00:11:43.000 --> 00:11:45.960 other as they worked. A doctor appeared at my side, 211 00:11:46.279 --> 00:11:49.320 her face set in a professional mask, but her eyes 212 00:11:49.360 --> 00:11:50.320 betrayed her concern. 213 00:11:51.120 --> 00:11:52.399 Tim we're going to. 214 00:11:52.360 --> 00:11:55.440 Move you upstairs to the ICU, she said, her voice 215 00:11:55.480 --> 00:11:59.039 calm but firm. Your blood pressure is dangerously high. We 216 00:11:59.080 --> 00:12:02.080 need to get it under con troll. Immediately, the words 217 00:12:02.159 --> 00:12:03.120 hit me like a truck. 218 00:12:04.000 --> 00:12:04.600 I see you. 219 00:12:05.600 --> 00:12:08.440 That's for people who are dying. That's for people who 220 00:12:08.440 --> 00:12:12.080 don't leave the hospital. They wheeled me upstairs. The fluorescent 221 00:12:12.159 --> 00:12:16.200 lights blurring overhead in the ICU, the room was eerily quiet, 222 00:12:16.240 --> 00:12:19.360 except for the rhythmic beeping of the machines. I lay 223 00:12:19.399 --> 00:12:21.759 there staring at the clock on the wall, watching the 224 00:12:21.799 --> 00:12:25.240 seconds tick by. I couldn't help but notice how carefully 225 00:12:25.240 --> 00:12:29.399 the nurses moved, their voices hushed as they communicated. One 226 00:12:29.480 --> 00:12:32.919 nurse leaned over me, her face kind but tense. We've 227 00:12:32.919 --> 00:12:36.440 given you some medication to bring your pressure down. Just relax, 228 00:12:36.879 --> 00:12:40.679 You're in good hands. But relaxing was impossible. I could 229 00:12:40.720 --> 00:12:43.960 feel the panic bubbling just below the surface. My chest 230 00:12:43.960 --> 00:12:47.559 felt tight, my head pounding like a drum. The world 231 00:12:47.600 --> 00:12:50.519 around me felt unreal, like I was teetering on the 232 00:12:50.600 --> 00:12:53.799 edge of consciousness. As I lay there, trying to calm 233 00:12:53.799 --> 00:12:56.759 my racing thoughts, something changed. 234 00:12:56.399 --> 00:12:57.120 In the room. 235 00:12:57.519 --> 00:13:00.559 The air grew heavier, pressing down on my chest in 236 00:13:00.600 --> 00:13:02.679 a way that had nothing to do with my condition. 237 00:13:03.399 --> 00:13:05.600 The clock on the wall seemed to slow even further 238 00:13:06.159 --> 00:13:09.799 each tick, stretching into an eternity. I turned my head 239 00:13:09.840 --> 00:13:12.159 to look at the doorway, and that's when I saw it. 240 00:13:12.759 --> 00:13:17.080 A figure, no, a shadow, stood just outside the room. 241 00:13:17.399 --> 00:13:20.679 It wasn't shaped like a person, not exactly. It was 242 00:13:20.720 --> 00:13:24.759 too tall, its limbs too elongated, and its edges seemed 243 00:13:24.799 --> 00:13:27.840 to blur and waver like smoke. The lights in the 244 00:13:27.879 --> 00:13:30.360 hallway flickered, and for a moment, it felt like the 245 00:13:30.519 --> 00:13:34.200 entire hospital had gone silent. Even the machines around me 246 00:13:34.240 --> 00:13:37.639 seemed to pause. They're beeping, replaced by a low hum 247 00:13:37.679 --> 00:13:41.039 that vibrated through my skull. I tried to call out, 248 00:13:41.399 --> 00:13:44.600 but my voice caught in my throat. The shadow moved closer, 249 00:13:44.840 --> 00:13:48.480 stepping into the room. It didn't walk, it glided, as 250 00:13:48.480 --> 00:13:51.840 though the floor didn't exist. My heart raised faster than ever, 251 00:13:52.159 --> 00:13:55.679 the machines beside me screaming with alarm. The figure stopped 252 00:13:55.679 --> 00:13:57.840 at the foot of my bed, and though it had 253 00:13:57.879 --> 00:14:01.799 no face, I felt its gaze pierce through me. Tim 254 00:14:01.960 --> 00:14:05.320 It whispered, the sound like a thousand voices layered on 255 00:14:05.360 --> 00:14:08.159 top of each other. You were not supposed to leave. 256 00:14:09.039 --> 00:14:13.240 Leave leave where my mind reeled, unable to make sense 257 00:14:13.240 --> 00:14:16.080 of the words. The shadow reached out a hand, or 258 00:14:16.120 --> 00:14:19.440 what I assumed was a hand, long, spinly fingers stretching 259 00:14:19.440 --> 00:14:23.039 toward me. Cold radiated from it, chilling me to my core. 260 00:14:23.679 --> 00:14:26.879 I wanted to scream, to fight, but my body wouldn't respond. 261 00:14:27.679 --> 00:14:30.919 I was frozen, trapped in my own skin. Just as 262 00:14:30.960 --> 00:14:33.480 its fingers brushed against my arm, the door to the 263 00:14:33.559 --> 00:14:37.159 room burst open. A nurse rushed in, followed by the doctor. 264 00:14:37.679 --> 00:14:40.679 The shadow recoiled, fading into the corner of the room 265 00:14:40.720 --> 00:14:44.440 before disappearing entirely. The lights returned to normal, and the 266 00:14:44.480 --> 00:14:45.879 beeping of the machines filled the. 267 00:14:45.879 --> 00:14:46.600 Air once more. 268 00:14:47.279 --> 00:14:50.639 Tim stay with us, the doctor shouted, her hands moving 269 00:14:50.720 --> 00:14:54.480 quickly to adjust the equipment. The nurse injected something into 270 00:14:54.519 --> 00:14:57.480 my IV and within moments, the crushing weight on my 271 00:14:57.600 --> 00:15:01.399 chest lifted, My body relaxed. The world came rushing back. 272 00:15:02.039 --> 00:15:04.480 I didn't tell them what I saw. How could I. 273 00:15:05.000 --> 00:15:08.279 They chalk it up to the stress, the medication, the 274 00:15:08.399 --> 00:15:12.480 dangerously high blood pressure. But I knew better that shadow 275 00:15:12.600 --> 00:15:16.519 wasn't a hallucination. It was something else, something real, and 276 00:15:16.559 --> 00:15:19.440 its words still haunt me to this day. You were 277 00:15:19.480 --> 00:15:23.519 not supposed to leave. I'm alive now, and my health 278 00:15:23.639 --> 00:15:27.840 is better than it was before. Story four. I grew 279 00:15:27.919 --> 00:15:31.039 up in Vermont, where snow wasn't just a season, it 280 00:15:31.080 --> 00:15:34.000 was a way of life. Winters there were like something 281 00:15:34.039 --> 00:15:38.120 out of a postcard, all frosted pine trees and glittering hills. 282 00:15:38.600 --> 00:15:41.159 I'm no stranger to the cold or the dangers of snow, 283 00:15:41.759 --> 00:15:44.759 but this one night I realized how unforgiving it could be. 284 00:15:45.600 --> 00:15:48.799 I was visiting a ski resort with some friends. By day, 285 00:15:48.840 --> 00:15:51.799 the place was a noisy playground for skiers and snowboarders, 286 00:15:52.240 --> 00:15:56.120 but at night it transformed into something quiet, almost eerie. 287 00:15:56.840 --> 00:15:58.919 We'd all been at the lodge drinking by the fire 288 00:15:58.960 --> 00:16:00.759 when I decided to step out outside for a bit 289 00:16:00.799 --> 00:16:04.039 of fresh air. I didn't bother telling anyone. I just 290 00:16:04.039 --> 00:16:07.279 grabbed my coat and walked out, leaving the warmth behind. 291 00:16:08.000 --> 00:16:11.159 It wasn't snowing, but the air had that biting chill 292 00:16:11.240 --> 00:16:14.480 that seeped through your clothes. The moon was bright, lighting 293 00:16:14.600 --> 00:16:18.559 up the endless white expanse. It was peaceful, almost hypnotic, 294 00:16:19.000 --> 00:16:22.080 and I wandered further than I realized, crunching over untouched 295 00:16:22.120 --> 00:16:25.759 patches of snow. I remember thinking how surreal it was, 296 00:16:26.399 --> 00:16:29.440 just me in the winter night, and then the ground disappeared. 297 00:16:29.720 --> 00:16:32.039 I didn't even have time to scream before I plunged 298 00:16:32.080 --> 00:16:35.960 into the snow. One moment I was upright, the next 299 00:16:36.000 --> 00:16:38.120 I was buried up to my shoulders in what felt 300 00:16:38.200 --> 00:16:41.759 like quicksand made of ice. My arms flailed, but every 301 00:16:41.840 --> 00:16:45.159 movement made the snow collapse further around me, pulling me 302 00:16:45.240 --> 00:16:45.720 in deeper. 303 00:16:46.559 --> 00:16:47.279 I froze. 304 00:16:47.840 --> 00:16:51.720 Panic was creeping in, but I forced myself to breathe. 305 00:16:51.799 --> 00:16:54.399 I tried to move slowly, thinking I could push the 306 00:16:54.440 --> 00:16:57.799 snow down enough to climb out. It didn't work. The 307 00:16:57.799 --> 00:17:01.120 more I shifted, the more it swallowed me. My gloves 308 00:17:01.159 --> 00:17:04.960 were useless. They slid against the soft, powdery snow. I 309 00:17:05.039 --> 00:17:08.559 yelled for help, my voice echoing into the void, but 310 00:17:08.640 --> 00:17:11.119 I knew no one would hear me. The lodge was 311 00:17:11.160 --> 00:17:13.880 too far and the wind carried sound away like it 312 00:17:13.920 --> 00:17:17.680 didn't belong. That's when it hit me. If I didn't 313 00:17:17.720 --> 00:17:20.599 get out, no one would find me until morning. By 314 00:17:20.640 --> 00:17:24.559 then I'd be frozen solid. I started digging with my hands, 315 00:17:24.599 --> 00:17:27.720 desperate now, but it was like trying to claw through water. 316 00:17:28.559 --> 00:17:31.000 I remember thinking about all the stories i'd heard as 317 00:17:31.039 --> 00:17:33.799 a kid about people who went missing in the snow. 318 00:17:34.440 --> 00:17:38.640 They'd find their bodies months later, perfectly preserved, as if 319 00:17:38.680 --> 00:17:43.119 winter itself had claimed them. And then the strangest thing happened. 320 00:17:43.559 --> 00:17:48.079 I felt something or someone grabbed my arm. It was sudden, 321 00:17:48.440 --> 00:17:51.440 a firm grip, like a hand reaching through the snow. 322 00:17:52.240 --> 00:17:56.079 Relief surged through me. Someone must have found me. I 323 00:17:56.160 --> 00:17:59.960 called out, thank you, I'm stuck, but there was no ana. 324 00:18:00.799 --> 00:18:03.400 I looked up, expecting to see a face, but there 325 00:18:03.440 --> 00:18:07.240 was no one there, just the moonlit snow, untouched except 326 00:18:07.279 --> 00:18:10.799 for the hole I'd fallen into. The grip didn't let go, though, 327 00:18:11.319 --> 00:18:15.160 If anything, it tightened, pulling me downward. My relief turned 328 00:18:15.160 --> 00:18:19.640 to terror. I screamed, thrashing against whatever had me. But 329 00:18:19.680 --> 00:18:22.880 the harder I fought, the more it pulled. It felt cold, 330 00:18:23.240 --> 00:18:26.960 colder than the snow, and impossibly strong. My legs were 331 00:18:26.960 --> 00:18:30.240 completely numb now, and I could feel myself sinking deeper. 332 00:18:30.920 --> 00:18:33.960 Let me go, I shouted, my voice cracking with fear, 333 00:18:34.519 --> 00:18:37.839 and just like that it stopped. The grip released, and 334 00:18:37.880 --> 00:18:42.119 I was left gasping, chest heaving, frozen in place. I 335 00:18:42.160 --> 00:18:44.759 didn't waste a second. I clawed at the snow with 336 00:18:44.839 --> 00:18:48.640 everything I had, dragging myself out inch by inch until 337 00:18:48.640 --> 00:18:49.599 I was finally free. 338 00:18:50.319 --> 00:18:52.359 I didn't look back. I couldn't. 339 00:18:52.799 --> 00:18:55.880 I ran, stumbling and slipping until I saw the lights 340 00:18:55.920 --> 00:18:58.599 of the lodge. When I burst through the doors, my 341 00:18:58.640 --> 00:19:01.880 friends turned to melaughing at first until they saw my face. 342 00:19:02.400 --> 00:19:05.000 What happened to you one of the masts? I couldn't 343 00:19:05.000 --> 00:19:07.559 explain it. How do you tell someone about a hand 344 00:19:07.599 --> 00:19:11.559 that wasn't there, about being pulled by something you couldn't see. 345 00:19:11.640 --> 00:19:14.680 I didn't sleep that night or the next. Even now, 346 00:19:14.759 --> 00:19:17.559 years later, I can still feel that icy grip on 347 00:19:17.599 --> 00:19:21.960 my arm. Sometimes in my dreams, I'm back there, sinking 348 00:19:22.000 --> 00:19:25.880 into the snow, and I wake up gasping, my heart pounding. 349 00:19:26.319 --> 00:19:30.200 I've avoided ski resorts ever since. Snow might look beautiful 350 00:19:30.240 --> 00:19:33.839 under the moonlight, but I know better now. It hides things, 351 00:19:34.440 --> 00:19:35.440 things that don't let go. 352 00:19:36.799 --> 00:19:37.480 Story five. 353 00:19:37.680 --> 00:19:40.480 I was seventeen when it happened, living in a small 354 00:19:40.519 --> 00:19:43.400 town in Montana, where the winters seemed endless and the 355 00:19:43.480 --> 00:19:46.519 roads disappeared under thick layers of snow and ice. You 356 00:19:46.519 --> 00:19:48.839 could walk a mile without seeing a single house lit 357 00:19:48.920 --> 00:19:51.799 up at night. My dad always joked that this place 358 00:19:51.920 --> 00:19:54.559 was perfect if you liked the quiet, the kind of 359 00:19:54.640 --> 00:19:58.279 quiet that could swallow you whole. That night, it almost did. 360 00:19:58.960 --> 00:20:00.920 I had just finished a sh at the diner where 361 00:20:00.960 --> 00:20:04.319 I worked after school. It was a cold Tuesday, and 362 00:20:04.359 --> 00:20:06.759 I was walking home because my car was in the shop. 363 00:20:07.599 --> 00:20:09.599 My breath fogged up the air in front of me, 364 00:20:10.119 --> 00:20:12.279 and the only sound was the crunch of my boots 365 00:20:12.319 --> 00:20:15.720 on the icy road. The town was deserted, not a 366 00:20:15.799 --> 00:20:18.880 soul in sight, and the street lights barely pushed back 367 00:20:18.920 --> 00:20:22.240 the darkness. The walk from the diner to my house 368 00:20:22.400 --> 00:20:25.599 wasn't long, maybe twenty minutes, but it took me through 369 00:20:25.640 --> 00:20:28.759 a stretch of wooded road that always gave me the creeps. 370 00:20:29.359 --> 00:20:32.079 Something about the way the trees closed in made it 371 00:20:32.119 --> 00:20:35.240 feel like the shadows had eyes. I'd walked this road 372 00:20:35.279 --> 00:20:38.960 a hundred times before, but that night felt different, like 373 00:20:39.000 --> 00:20:42.640 the cold wasn't just outside but inside me, clawing at 374 00:20:42.680 --> 00:20:46.000 my gut. I kept telling myself I was being paranoid, 375 00:20:46.400 --> 00:20:49.400 but I picked up my pace anyway. About halfway through 376 00:20:49.440 --> 00:20:52.079 the wooded stretch, I saw headlights in the distance. 377 00:20:52.640 --> 00:20:55.759 A car was coming up behind me, slow and deliberate. 378 00:20:56.279 --> 00:20:59.119 At first, I thought it was someone I knew, a neighbor, 379 00:20:59.160 --> 00:21:02.440 maybe offering me a ride. But the car didn't pass me. 380 00:21:02.960 --> 00:21:05.200 It just rolled forward at a crawl, staying a few 381 00:21:05.240 --> 00:21:08.200 feet behind. The sound of the tires crunching on the 382 00:21:08.240 --> 00:21:12.039 ice matched my footsteps. I turned around squinting against the 383 00:21:12.039 --> 00:21:14.480 glare of the headlights and raised a hand to wave. 384 00:21:15.079 --> 00:21:17.880 No response, just the hum of the engine and the 385 00:21:17.880 --> 00:21:23.839 blinding light. My gut tightened. Something was wrong, really wrong. 386 00:21:24.599 --> 00:21:26.160 I stepped to the side of the road to let 387 00:21:26.240 --> 00:21:30.640 it pass, but the car stopped dead stop. My heart 388 00:21:30.680 --> 00:21:34.200 started pounding as I turned back toward the trees. Keep walking, 389 00:21:34.400 --> 00:21:38.079 I whispered to myself, Just keep walking. I tried to 390 00:21:38.119 --> 00:21:41.240 act normal, like I didn't notice the car, but my 391 00:21:41.319 --> 00:21:44.920 legs felt like jelly. The headlights flicked off, plunging the 392 00:21:45.000 --> 00:21:47.960 road into darkness. That's when I heard the car door open. 393 00:21:49.000 --> 00:21:53.559 A single heavy footstep hit the icy road, then another hey. 394 00:21:53.680 --> 00:21:57.279 A voice called out, deep, raspy, you need a ride. 395 00:21:58.160 --> 00:22:02.119 My stomach dropped. I didn't turn around. No, I'm good, thanks, 396 00:22:02.319 --> 00:22:06.000 I shouted, trying to sound casual. My voice cracked halfway through. 397 00:22:06.599 --> 00:22:10.160 The footsteps started again, faster this time. I could hear 398 00:22:10.200 --> 00:22:13.920 them crunching behind me, closing the gap. I didn't think. 399 00:22:14.279 --> 00:22:15.000 I just ran. 400 00:22:15.680 --> 00:22:18.519 My boots slipped on the ice, but adrenaline kept me moving. 401 00:22:19.000 --> 00:22:21.559