Leaves of Three
After the night I just had, I do not know whether I should call the cops, roll up in a ball and cry myself to sleep, or call my therapist. I am still trying to decide the best course of action. I already talked to my friend Kyle, and we agreed to some preliminary steps, but first I should tell you the full story. When I was in my teens, my friends and I would frequent a local park named Iglehart to play basketball and swim at the indoor pool. There was also an expansive nature preserve that we would explore. Days and evenings spent there remain vivid to me, as your formative years tend to hold those memories tighter in your subconscious. We would play basketball for hours, then take a nice long walk through the trails, which could go up to ten miles in whichever direction you chose. The indoor pool closed indefinitely for some reason I don’t remember now, but I had many a birthday party there through the years. As we got older and became more interested in girls, this would become a spot for secluded private activities as well. Every town has its lover’s lane, and this was that for us during high school. We had a large group of friends, but my closest ones were Kyle and Bailey. We were inseparable, and often you could catch us together if we weren’t at work or class. We dubbed ourselves, “The Three Leaves” and made a stupid handshake, all because we saw a sign in the nature preserve that warned of poison ivy with the ominous statement “Leaves of three? Let it be.” After years of exploring the nature trails, we had found a lot of cool things simply forgotten to the world by time. Lots of very old signs from decades prior. Rock and wood seating, grown over with the local flora. Hidden pathways obstructed so much with fallen limbs and trees that it was hard to tell where the trails ended and untamed wilderness began. I can’t tell you how many times we got lost by accidentally walking into the greater-North Woods, which holds a small twenty-mile section designated as the nature preserve. Each adventure we always seemed to find something interesting, some new place or relic from the past. It all came to an end the summer going into senior year, when Bailey went missing. Being as we spent every day together, Kyle and I wondered why we hadn’t heard from him in a few days. We went over to his mom’s house, and while she definitely loved her son very much, she was used to him not coming home. So, by the time the police got involved, Bailey had already been missing for three days. We checked all the spots we could think of, there was even a small search in the North Woods, but everything was called off after a few weeks. Apparently, it was thought that he left town to do door to door sales for High Times magazine. He had done this in the past, but his experience was so terrible and frightening that I would have never thought he’d go back to it. I told the police as much, but I was just a kid in high school, and they knew better. I’m not so sure anymore. Kyle and I remained close and still are five years later. With this brief back story in mind, I want to try and explain what happened to me over the past few hours in the North Woods. The day started like any other. I woke up and checked some work emails before brewing myself a cup of coffee while I took a quick shower. I’m glad that I stuck out college because while I’m not using my degree, it did open doors for me at the entry level into other fields, which can hopefully translate into better opportunities later down the road. Before heading out, I was scrolling social media and saw a memory of Bailey, Kyle, and myself at some party. This brought back some fond as well as sad memories, and I decided that after work I was going to go on a nice walk at Iglehart Park and toke one in remembrance of a good friend. The weather was supposed to be perfect, and it had been a while since I had been back there. I had the thought to call up Kyle and see if he wanted to tag along, but then I realized he was doing his monthly stream-a-thon for his channel. I thought maybe I’d hop on and watch the stream later and let him know. Work was work, and after I clocked out, I stopped at the gas station to get a few energy drinks before making my way to Iglehart Park. While I live in a moderately sized city, there are plenty of country roads and backwoods, and that’s near enough where the park is located. It’s only a twenty-minute drive to get back into city limits, but you can feel the isolation when you’re there. You would think you were truly alone with nature. As I pulled into the parking lot, I had this sense come over me and it put me into a reflective mood. A lot had happened in life since being a teenager, not a care in the world walking these trails. I sparked one up outside the car in homage to a lost friend, gazing at the trees swaying with the breeze. The sound of birds being scared off suddenly jerked me out of my reverie, and, finishing up my smoke, I decided to start my trek. From the parking lot, I stopped at the derelict, abandoned indoor pool building. I had many fond memories there, although I was always too scared to jump off the high dive. I wondered why it even shut down, as I remember it was quite popular back in the day. But as the thought came to me, something else caught my attention. I thought for certain I had heard someone say something, but I couldn’t tell what it was. It almost sounded casual in tone, but it was cut off abruptly. I looked around for a few minutes before deciding it must have just been the wind. I noted that there were no other cars here, so that must have been the case. After leaving the pool behind, I passed the basketball and tennis courts before coming to the main entrance to the nature trails. Walking up to the trailhead, I realized that not much had seemed to change about the place in the years since id been there last. The entry walkway was still made up of rocks instead of the packed dirt that comprises the rest of the official trails. Off to the left, there was still that rickety wooden observation platform, now showing several more signs of rot than what I could recollect. Straight ahead, I could see where the trail splits into three, taking you along different routes that would lead into other trail middles or beginnings. I didn’t mention before, but there are multiple exits to the nature preserve. Whether those are official or not who’s to say? But I can tell you that after years exploring, there were a total of three ways to get into the preserve. I think at some point in the distant past when this area was being developed, it was clear where to go. If you were to hike up the grassy hill that runs alongside the basketball courts, there was a second entrance. There is a large, flat rock and a sign just inside the woods, but from the outside you wouldn’t be able to tell there was. Maybe a ten-minute walk from this exit, there is a trail that opens up into a clearing and a short waterfall from the stream that runs through some of the park. On the opposite side of the preserve, there is a third entrance that I believe was most likely made by kids like us. I say that because it came out into a youth baseball field, with no signage of any kind. In our teens, we would regularly walk all over this place, so we ended up knowing it very well. With all this in mind, there are all kinds of great places to visit if one has the time, but being as I came here after work, I knew I’d only be able to explore the woods for a couple hours at most. It probably would take that whole time if I were to try and do the whole lap, so instead I started off down the left of the three-trail split. For your average person never stepping foot here, this is the trail I recommend. At least I would normally. It has the most scenic views, with wooden bridges to cross the small stream that runs through. There are also several rows of long classroom style benches carved out of gigantic fallen trees. There’s even a sign detailing the creation. I decided to sit down on one of the benches and got out my phone to check in on Kyles stream. This area isn’t too far from the entrance, and there were two paths you could take to go further, or you could just turn back around. I sat on the bench for some time, remembering our high school days. Daze more like it. These very seats held so many memories. I got my first tongue kiss here from Aubrey Clark, and more later. We had concerts with our stereos, smoke sessions with the boys. We bore witness to and participated in many fights, be it playful or serious in nature. There were a few instances of the cops coming out, but I think it wasn’t a popular place to go so we weren’t bothered by them too often. This was the one gravel area in the whole place, so we made youthful use of it. Of course, Kyle was having a blast gaming on stream, and I saw that he was only thirteen subs away from his next goal, so I gifted fifteen subs with a smirk. You know how streamers will thank whoever gifts subs? Well, it’s always funny as hell seeing your buddy do it, especially with my moniker Duncan Mchawkener. As he read it off with appreciation, it hit him. The look on his face brought me out of my near reverie and I busted out laughing. He knew who it was by now and had a laugh with his chat. I stayed on for a few minutes and we had a bit of small talk until I brought up where I was. His expression grew solemn and he’s a classy enough guy to not tell the chat our backstory of this place, apart from the locker room talk about our wild, semi-true feats. We agreed to come back here again next week when he has some more free time. Now that I was in a bit of a happier mood, I swung myself off the bench and headed off again. The trail I chose this time lead down Honeysuckle Hollow. All the trails have names, but I have forgotten most of them. This one always stuck out to me due to the alliteration. It’s also a trail connector of sorts, as it splits into three and you can take those eventually back to the starting points or exits. But if you take this one all the way to its natural end, you come out to a huge wooden deck that overhangs part of the forest, and you get a really good view of nature. That was where I planned to go, as this is at the deepest point of the preserve. I planned to take one of the unremarkable paths back to the car. Unfortunately, this trip was anything but unremarkable. I was walking down the Hollow trail towards my destination when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I had the sudden sense that I was being watched. I’ve seen many animals here, including coyotes, but this felt different. I took a few minutes to survey the landscape and became satisfied that I was just being a scaredy cat. Sunset was still an hour away at least, so I didn’t think I had much to worry about as long as I got out of the woods before then. After maybe ten minutes of walking, I found the wooden deck at the end of the trail. This one seemed to be in much better condition than the one at the entrance, so I happily took a seat and checked my phone. I didn’t realize I had left the stream up, so my batter was low. I became a little annoyed at my carelessness, then stood up and leaned against the railing, looking over at the untamed forest. I was a little lost in thought, slowly spiraling into a depressive state when faced with the nostalgia here. At some point as I gazed all around, down at the bottom of this overlook, it seemed that there was another trail, one that lead to who knows where. My friends and I had never walked down there, nothing that we knew of lead into this trail. I was more than a little curious, and after a bit of searching, I saw only weeds and brambles. Looking closer, I could see the along the left side of the deck while facing it there was a dirt path. It was overgrown by foliage, and looked like not much use was gotten out of it. But I was excited to find this, and I couldn’t wait to keep it a secret until Kyle and I came back out here the following week or whenever it would be. I had about thirty minutes before it would get dark out, so I made a mental note to not get too carried away exploring. I started off carefully, as it really is steep, and I was glad that it hadn’t rained for a couple weeks so it was nice and dry. When I got to the bottom, I could see that it split going left and right. I decided to go left, as I had been all night so far. I wonder now if I went right if I’d still be alive. Almost immediately around the bend, I started seeing trash all over the ground. I became irritated that people can’t clean up after themselves, the world is their trash can, etc. Walking a few hundred feet further was when I noticed that it wasn’t all trash, but some discarded clothing as well. As I came upon one particularly dingy piece of cloth worn threadbare by time, I noticed it was the upper part of a torn-up shirt with the tag on the back. Someone had written their name on it, and when I read it, my blood ran cold. The name on the shirt was written as MICHAEL. If you’ve made it this far, you might be asking what the significance of this was. I’ll tell you; Bailey was one of my best friends in school and that was his last name. His first name was Michael. Furthermore, he was the absolute only person I knew who always wrote in capital letters. Even for class writing assignments, it was always capital letters. We never really gave him shit for it, but it was a fact, nonetheless. I became super confused by what I was seeing. There’s no way this was my friend’s shirt. The cops supposedly searched the whole area. That’s when I remembered how incompetent they were, how sure of their theory of a runaway. A mix of emotions swirled within me, fighting for dominance. Logic and curiosity won out. There could be any number of reasons this shirt got here, and it could simply be some kid who tossed their destroyed shirt away. It was still eerie, but I walked further along until I saw some kind of drainage ditch on the side of the path. It had a rocky riprap drop off to a culvert, maybe fifteen feet down below. From here I could see many more discarded pieces of humanity, scattered at the bottom. I thought it odd, because this culvert probably eventually connected to that indoor pool that was abandoned. There should be nothing coming out of that drain other than water runoff, if that. As I peered down below, I heard the snapping of a twig. I spun around and tensed; every muscle taught. The hair on my arms and neck electric. I frantically looked all around me, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound. Just when I felt myself relax, satisfied it was a squirrel or some such, I caught an image of something behind a tree, some fifty yards or so away. It was a face. A horrible face, one that looked like it belonged to one of those fucked up things from I Am Legend. I was paralyzed with fear, my sanity slowly slipping. I don’t know if he knew I had seen it, but it hadn’t moved. Yet I knew in the most primeval way that it was merely waiting for me to completely let my guard down and continue walking in that direction. I tried to calm myself and project aloofness, and I’m not sure if it worked or not but the thing remained in place. I took another look at the culvert, trying to appear casual then started back the way I came, at a brisk walk. I tried to keep my peripheral wary of whatever it was that was out here, but it was hard. When I reached the base of the path that would bring me back up to the wooden deck, I chanced a look. Right around the bend I saw two more of them climbing up from the rocky drain off. I scrambled up the steep incline and latched onto the wooden deck, then heaved myself over. I began running as fast as I could down the path, not giving a shit which trail I was on or even paying much attention where they branched off. I had a vague sense in my panic filled delirium that my car was in this general direction, and that’s all that was moving me along. I heard the things further back, and knew they were following. At this point it was nearly dark, the sun shining its last few rays of daylight. Even if my phone was not nearly dead, I felt it would have been suicide to try and stop to call for help. I was in this alone. I kept running, choosing random trails as they appeared. I chanced a look back, and twisted my ankle, sprawling face first into the dirt and leaves. Grimacing in pain, I tried to get my bearings as I wrenched myself up onto my feet, balancing myself against a flat rock. Through my haggard breathing and short gasps of pain, I tried listening for more movement, but I couldn’t hear anything. I then tried getting my bearings, looking for signs or markings that I could place. I realized that I was near the exit that was up on top of the hill past the basketball courts. Safety was seemingly within reach. I could walk down that hill straight to my car. I had a primal fear of this however, because I was now limping and would not be able to run that distance. And in this way, I would be totally exposed out in the open. If those things were anywhere nearby, they would easily spot me. I cursed at myself for not paying attention during my flight, but all things considered I wasn’t dead yet. That was a plus. Yet, it seemed the safest way to stay out of sight would be to somehow get to the complete opposite end of the trails, where the main entrance was. From there it would be just a few minutes’ walk to my car, but it was a big ask. As I pondered my options, I heard rustling behind me. Before I could react, something grabbed at my shirt collar and yanked me to the ground. One of those things looked down upon me, and I saw the hint of a malevolent grin. It tried to grab at me, but I scrambled back to my feet, and we stared each other down for a few seconds. Those seconds felt like eons, and I could finally get a good look at the thing. Truly, it seemed like a human, only with its skin almost melted down. My original description from earlier still seemed to hold up, only this time I felt more of an impression that this wasn’t some supernatural being. It seemed a human being, somehow deformed. I heard more noise in the distance, and the thing took that as its opportunity to try and grab at my neck again. This time, I was ready. Since I got home, I’ve been silent thanking my dad for pushing me to compete in wrestling all my life. I scooped up the thing in a fireman’s carry and dumped it onto the rock headfirst. While not killing it, it was clearly unconscious, so I took the opportunity to scramble my way off the trails into the forest, hoping my general direction would take me close to the main entrance. It was now pitch black. I realized not even halfway there that I’d never make it out here if I kept this up. My suspicions were confirmed when up ahead I heard more branches breaking and leaves crunching. I spun around and knew I had to make a daring move. I limped along the best I could towards the clearing, and those things were gaining on me due to my injury. As I approached the waterfall, I could hear their heavy breathing right behind me, their grunting almost gleeful. I took one more look behind me and saw four of them slowly approaching. I took out my last energy drink, a tall boy, and launched it into the face of one that started towards me first. Then I did what I never could before. I jumped off the high dive. There was no way of knowing if this was suicide or not, I never knew how shallow the water at the bottom was. Fortunately for me, there was no rocks so I plunged in and resurfaced, swimming with the current of the stream as fast as I could. It was also well that it appeared that none of them made the same leap. I couldn’t turn around to see if they were still at the top of the clearing, but I had gained myself a small advantage because I knew this small waterway turns into a creek and winds a little farther down, which runs through the area I first reminisced at with the tree benches near the main entrance. I made it there unnoticed and gathered my strength. Now I just had to make it to my car. I hobbled along as silent as I could and couldn’t hear anything from the forest around me. I was quite fearful still, as now I fully believed those things could be inhabiting all the North Woods. The only sounds in the night were my own foot scraping the ground as I half dragged half walked on it. It made me very aware that I could be drawing them back to me with all this noise, but I finally made it back to the entrance and saw my car in the distance. I quietly and cautiously made my way, sticking to the shadows, ever fearful my presence would be noticed. I stopped at the wooden deck and gathered my energy and wits. There was a not so easy distance to travel to get to the car, but I heard nothing. I continued crouching and sneaking as best I could and hunkered down next to the derelict pool. This was it; I was not even 30 yards from my car. Yet the same feeling of being watched returned to me. I couldn’t see shit, and my heart was still racing from the past couple of hours of this nightmare. Good thing I didn’t need to see anything, just hear. There was a loud BANG followed by more banging sounds. I could feel the vibration as well; it was coming from the abandoned indoor pool building. Was this where these freaks lived? As if in answer to my unspoken thought, I noticed some movement higher up the wall and saw a small window with several ghastly faces pressed up against it. I could see the malignant glee, the rabid lust in their expressions. I darted off as fast as I could towards the car. Despite the cacophony and fear, I made it inside my car. I chanced another look towards the building. Backed away from it as I was, I could see that every window in the place was filled with those faces of terror. All seemed to be trying desperately to escape and capture me. I could almost see the building shake and quiver, as if their combined efforts could get through brick and steel. I didn’t think they could get out of the windows either, because they were those small ones that were only maybe a couple feet wide. I sure as hell wasn’t going to test that theory, or chance that any more of them were still lurking about, so I drove out of the park like a bat out of hell. It seemed that I hadn’t breathed until my headlights illuminated the gas station, twenty minutes away from Iglehart Park. I drove past and continued on to my house. When I pulled in the driveway, I let out a huge sigh of relief and bawled my eyes out. I had made it. I got out of my car and immediately lit up a cigarette, trying in vain to calm my nerves. Then I called Kyle and tried my best to explain everything that had happened. He seemed disturbed, probably because I sounded insane, I thought. To my surprise, he seemed to listen and believe me. It was a big deal someone believed me, as I knew the cops wouldn’t. We agreed that the shirt with Bailey’s name on it was strange and maybe we could get the answers we desperately needed about his disappearance if we went searching ourselves. We made some plans to go back during daylight, armed somehow, preferably in the morning as to give us as much daylight as possible to work with. I know it sounds crazy after the night I’ve just had, but after seeing that shirt I realized how much I needed closure on this. Us three were best friends for nearly a decade, and Kyle feels the same way as I do. I’m going to finish wrapping my ankle, turns out its probably sprained. But I just heard something outside. My hairs just went up, because I just realized something. I didn’t have to unlock my car when I was making my escape. I never checked my backseat. Credit: Jason Griggs Please note the author of this creepypasta does NOT give permission for it to be reproduced in any format Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.