Did you know that self-proclaimed cryptid hunters are a thing these days? Turns out there’s these online communities full of “sick badasses” who order combat gear on amazon and drive out to supposedly haunted locations to explore and film themselves.

Why am I ranting about this?

Apparently, some shithead has shared the location of the plot of land that's been in my family for generations.

Now, you'd think owning an entire patch of woodland would mean we're rich, but it's actually really costly to take care of. No forestry work can be done there and our staff is constantly patrolling the area, looking for irregularities. It's a dangerous job and we've lost more than a few hires in regrettable ways. Most of the time, when everyone's careful and meets the required precautions, everything goes over smoothly and the things in the forest are kept in check. I wish we could just fence the perimeter and be done with it, but due to reasons too complicated to explain right now, that's not an option. Plus, it's pretty lonely out here. You'd have to drive off-roads for half an hour to get here, so we normally don't have to deal with any unexpected visitors.

There's a spot in my woods I frequent, a little clearing surrounded by tall trees and wild rose bushes. I always light a campfire there to sit at and relax. Right now, the ground is frozen over and we've had a lot of snowfall, but I don't mind the chill. I do so love those pretty icicles hanging from the branches. The clearing is my refuge from everything. I'm not good with people and day-to-day interactions exhaust me, so being by myself is something akin to an essential need of mine.

Yesterday afternoon, I was hanging out in my usual spot, when suddenly, a voice called out to me from behind.

"You! Turn around!"

When I got to my feet, I found myself facing a young man of the very species I described earlier. Armed, cargo pants, combat boots and camo backpack. There was a small camera mounted to his helmet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, trying to keep my cool.

He backed off, visibly puzzled. "I thought you were some kinda ghost!"

"I'm the legal owner of these woods, and if you don't get off my property this instant, I will call the police," I told him.

"Wh… why are you wearing a wedding dress?" he stuttered.

"This is my private property, I could dance around stark-naked if I wanted to. How on earth did you find this place?"

"The woods? I read about them online! Someone posted about there being… creatures here. Cryptids."

"So you thought you'd go check it out?" I squinted at him. Something wasn't quite right with that guy, aside from him being crazy enough to show up here in the first place. I could sense something looking at him, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Just a hunch, but my gut instinct never misleads me.

"Yeah. I'm a cryptid hunter. Or well, I don't hunt them per se. I guess I would, I just haven't been all that successful yet," he admitted with an awkward chuckle.

"Hear, hear," I said flatly. I couldn't shake the weird feeling he was giving me. "You're still trespassing. Say, did anyone stop you on your way in?"

"No. Why? Is there someone else here?"

How the hell had he gotten past the security staff? There had to be a blind spot somewhere which he had accidentally come across. I decided not to let on how many safety measures we had in place. Better not to further pique his interest. "Nope," I lied, patting down my skirt. "Come on. Follow me, I'll see you out."

"Can't I just have a look around? If there is something in those woods, you'd be safer if I took care of it!"

"I'm certain." I was about to send him on his way a little more firmly when I realized it. There was a disturbance in his aura. Something had set its sights on him. "Were you followed here?" I asked sharply.

"What? No… I don't think so…"

"Did you encounter anyone on your way? A man wearing his caftan crossed left over right?"

"What's a caftan?"

I ignored the question. "Did you maybe notice a flock of birds at some point?"

"Yeah, sure, I mean… we're in the woods…"

"There are no birds in my woods anymore," I said sternly. "You're in danger. Something here's been following you."

"Um… what?"

"Aren't you a cryptid hunter? Shouldn't you know?"

"Well, I haven't had many encounters yet!" The man was starting to look panicked. "You're trying to get a rise out of me, aren't you?" His trembling voice told me he didn't actually believe that.

"I'm most certainly not. Trust me. I can tell, I can always tell. You've gone and crossed a spirit."

"A spirit? So there's actual paranormal activity here? And you already knew?"

"We need to get you out of here!" I hissed. "Come on, help me pack up! Douse the fire!"

He followed my instructions while I hastily gathered my belongings. Then, we took off running. I spurred him on, hoping to get back onto one of the beaten paths leading out to safety. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I knew my companion was so much more afraid. He had every reason to be, and deep down, he knew. I didn't know what he'd expected, coming here in search of a thrill, but this was most likely too much for him.

"What did you do?" I panted, not daring to slow down. "You must have done something to upset him! Did you try to fell a tree?"

"I shot at a rabbit with my crossbow earlier… I only wounded it, though. It ran off on me," he gritted out in-between gasps for air. "Who's he? I really didn't see anyone around!"

"He can come in a lot of shapes—Oh for crying out loud," I snapped when he tripped over a root and fell, sprawling across the forest floor. I grabbed him and pulled him back up, grunting under his weight. He was heavy as fuck with all that gear on. The trees were starting to let up, though. Hope renewed, I steered the "cryptid hunter" towards the light beckoning through the leaves. "Keep going! We're almost there!"

He wouldn't move. I gave him a bewildered frown. "What are you doing? Keep running, you dumbass!"

"You've been shitting me this whole time, haven't you?" he asked sharply. "There's nothing to run from, is there?"

Oh dear God.

"Keep running," I repeated. "If you wanna live, you need to get out."

"Look, lady, I'm not gonna play along anymore. You nearly scared me shitless back there, I'll admit that, but the fun's over. I'll get off your property, sure, but you could have just told me in a—"

He fell silent upon realizing that my eyes were transfixed on something behind him. It stood tall between the trees, its enormous, branch-like antlers stretching up to disappear in the foliage. Its head bore more resemblance to the skull of a diseased deer, bone exposed with bloodied strips of flesh hanging off it. Its body overall was humanoid, with rough, thick bark replacing its skin. Moss lined its back and unproportionally long arms; twigs and leaves sprouted from its wide shoulders. It glared at us out of gleaming green eyes.

The hunter slowly turned around to meet the creature's gaze. His face fell.

"Kneel," I breathed, sinking down and lowering my head. The young man didn't react at first. "It's too late to flee," I repeated in a low voice. "Kneel and pray for his mercy."

Finally, he dropped to the ground next to me.

The Leshy proceeded towards us, his steps completely silent. I had already had a few close encounters with this beast, and I had prayed not to evoke his wrath ever again. I could only hope I wouldn't be punished for the explorer's transgressions.

"I thought we had an understanding, you and I."

The creature's voice chilled me like the icy forest wind. I felt one of its long, wooden fingers reach out to touch my face, tipping my chin up and forcing me to look up at it.

"Forgive us, my Lord," I said quietly, holding the beast's red gaze.

"Then will you let me have this mortal?"

My eyes began to fill with tears. I couldn't bring myself to respond.

"I'll ask you again, will you let me have this mortal?"

"Please don't," I whispered. The man beside me had started to cry, sobs of fear shaking his shoulders.

"Sweet soul. You do so hate carnage. I'll allow you to avert your gaze while I feast."

Grasped by utter hopelessness, I turned the other way, hugging myself as I shut my eyes. Gunshots rang out, their volume stinging my ears. The explorer was probably firing away for dear life, but the futility of defending oneself against this creature with simple bullets didn't go lost on him.

"Hey lady, do something…" He started tugging on my sleeve, but I brushed off his hand. "Help me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything, please just help me!"

I couldn't. Not anymore. My blood ran cold when the explorer let out a gurgling scream and was dragged away from my side. His cries of agony mixed with the sound of crunching bones, flesh and muscle being torn and blood spattering. I felt it hit my bare back, warm and sticky, staining my white gown. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and my lower lip was bleeding where I'd dug my teeth into it. By the time the horrific noises had finally died down, it felt like an eternity had passed. A satisfied growl rumbled somewhere behind my back.

"Be on your way now, darling. And don't bother my animals with your weeping."

I left without looking back. At home, I turned on the shower to sit and cry beneath it. I tried to tell myself that this cryptid hunter wasn't a great loss to the world, but even if his hobby of choice had frankly been dumb and ill-conceived, he'd probably still been a normal guy despite it all. That's what I thought about while I went around my property, searching for traces of his entrance. I found his vehicle, a beat-up brown pickup truck, on the outskirts of the eastern side of the plot of land. I disposed of it discreetly.

Poor guy. He'd only wanted to see some action. Though it could be held against him that he'd never looked up what a Leshy was.

The first time I'd encountered the Leshy, I had known what he, or rather it, was. My mother had warned me, telling me that, while benevolent at times, he and those of his kind had a habit of stealing young women. I held her teachings dearly, and I still do, seeing as I actually inherited our land from her side of the family. She educated me about these grounds, about the dangers within them. Even before she died, I would take long walks through the woodland, setting up camp here and there and basically spending all my free time in them.

The winter around the same time that I started wearing my wedding dress, I was taking a walk to check out the grounds after the first snowfall. A thin, delicate layer of pristine white covered the treetops and meadows, offering a beautiful sight. All was well until I spotted a figure approaching from beyond the treeline. I stopped in my tracks. Nobody was supposed to be wandering around here except for myself and my family’s employees, so either this guy had gotten lost, or he was one of the local entities. He drew nearer and nearer, stopping just a few feet ahead of me. Taking in his appearance, my heart sank. He was wearing a caftan crossed left over right. His bearded face bore little trace of emotion and he was holding a large cudgel. When he spoke, it was in a deep, snarling voice with a slavic accent.

“I’ve seen you in my woods before. You’re the heiress, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” I pressed out, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Then you must know who I am.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What am I to call you, heiress?”

I hesitated.

“I won’t steal your name if you tell me,” he said, as though he’d read my thoughts.

“I’m Fiona,” I said breathlessly.

“You’re very pretty." He tilted his head at me. "I could love you, if your eyes weren’t so lifeless.” He paused before shouldering the cudgel and walking onwards. “Send your mother my regards," he said over his shoulder as he passed me.

Throughout our time as owners of the woods, the Leshy has lured quite a few of our security staff members into traps. He'd lead them astray, they’d get lost in the woods and we’d find them drowned in the lake some time later. He did bring back my father’s dog when it ran off that one time, though. Most of the time, he's neither hostile nor benevolent, but he is territorial. He likes to remind us of who's in charge. And of course, he'd have my head if I dared to disrespect him by putting a fence in his forest.

He’s not the only thing that might kill you when you enter our plot of land. And there’s worse deaths than being eaten alive, believe it or not.

You may have guessed it already, but this is a warning. Apparently, my property is being frequented by explorers or cryptid hunters. The guy that got eaten obviously couldn’t have been the only one. Someone made us public. We're already implementing more security. This post serves two main purposes.

First off, if you happen to be the person who first discovered these woods and shared their location online, please take it down. You’re doing more harm than good. I don’t know how you managed to make it out of here alive and unseen by me and my staff, but you got lucky. For your own sake, don’t come back here.

Secondly, and this is for all the others, if you’ve heard of my or any other haunted woods for that matter, don’t go exploring. It’s not worth it. Since you’re so curious to see what’s in here, I'll tell you online, at a safe distance.

X

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7